The Personal Canon - Jurassic Park

The Personal Canon is a recurring column discussing my favorite movies of all time.  While they may not necessarily be "A" rated, they are the movies that, for some reason or another, hold a special place in my filmgoing experience.

Jurassic Park (1993)

Starring Sam Neill, Laura Dern, Jeff Goldblum, Richard Attenborough, Joseph Mazzello, Ariana Richards, and Samuel L. Jackson

Directed by Steven Spielberg

Join in over the next four days for a look at the Jurassic Park Quadrilogy:
Today:  Jurassic Park
Thursday:  The Lost World: Jurassic Park
Friday:  Jurassic Park III
Saturday:  Jurassic World

This is how you make a movie that is innately special effects-driven work.  More than twenty years later, Jurassic Park still works its magic and I was quite happy to be able to see it once again on the big screen (even if the 3D, though admirably done, wasn't really necessary).  Editor's Note:  I watched Jurassic Park in its theatrical re-release two years ago, but for some reason failed to complete this review.  With the impending Jurassic World release, I decided to revisit the film (and its sequels) on dvd again.  This review is mix of the theatrical release draft I created and new work.

Everyone knows the plot -- billionaire entrepreneur John Hammond (Richard Attenborough) invites a trio of scientists (Sam Neill, Laura Dern, and Jeff Goldblum) and his grandchildren (Joseph Mazzello, Ariana Richards) to a remote Central American island off the coast of Costa Rica where his researchers have created a slew of dinosaurs that Hammond plans to show off in a theme park-like setting.  Michael Crichton has taken a seemingly ridiculous plot and created something (along with co-screenwriter David Koepp) that comes off as totally believable and fathomable.  Rather than have the science come off as silly, it seems legitimate and this intelligent base for a big-budget blockbuster action flick can't help but resonate.  

The early 90s were a pivotal time in my movie-going life with Beauty and the Beast coming onto the scene in 1991 and then the influential year of 1993 which featured both Jurassic Park and The Fugitive -- two movies that absolutely enthralled me as an eager film-loving thirteen year-old.  (And that's not even including Schindler's List, Philadelphia, Mrs. Doubtfire, and Sleepless in Seattle [another Personal Canon film])  Admittedly, Jurassic Park was probably the film that put Steven Spielberg on the film map for me.  Here, the director takes just the right amount of time to set up the story before turning everything upside down.  Surprisingly, both aspects of the plot -- the exposition and the payoff -- work incredibly well with neither feeling like they wear out their welcome or are cut short by the other.

There are so many really great moments here --

• The first moment the scientists see the giant dinos and that iconic John Williams music just swells.  This is also the first moment that we see the dinos as well and considering this film was made more than two decades ago, the special effects look absolutely fantastic.  There are moments in this movie that I feel like the effects look better than most of what is out there today.
• The entire sequence of the T-Rex wreaking havoc on the two tour vehicles.  From the moment when that cup of water starts to shake to the giant reptile eating the guy on the toilet (Spielberg also has a eye for uncomfortable comedy) to the two kids being panicked in the car -- it's all great stuff.
• Although I dislike the very end of the showdown with the velociraptors, the kitchen scene with the two grandkids is stellar stuff.
• Even the scientific set-up with the animated DNA strand is amusingly done.  This should be boring expository stuff and it still is amazingly interesting.  

Jurassic Park really is a fantastic flick and one that truly stands the test of time.  It's an incredibly fun roller coaster ride that Steven Spielberg crafted here and it's one of the best "popcorn" movies of all time.

The RyMickey Rating:  A

The Personal Canon - The Music Man

The Personal Canon is a recurring column discussing my favorite movies of all time.  While they may not necessarily be "A" rated, they are the movies that, for some reason or another, hold a special place in my filmgoing experience.

The Music Man (1962)

Starring Robert Preston, Shirley Jones, Ron Howard, Buddy Hackett, Hermione Gingold, Paul Ford, Pert Kelton, and The Buffalo Bills

Directed by Morton DaCosta

It's been nearly a year since I've added to my Personal Canon on the blog, but it's time to add another movie into that hallowed compendium of films.  The first time I saw The Music Man I was probably about eleven or twelve.  Classic films often had a place in our house as trips to the video store were a common occurrence and journeys into the older sections of "Choices" (any Delawareans remember that video store?) were always taken.  I imagine my mom probably picked this one out as I likely had never heard of it, but after watching it back then, I knew it was going to become one of my favorite movies.

The Music Man is as close to a piece of classic Americana captured on film as you're ever going to get. Flags are flying everywhere, small town camaraderie is the name of the game, and people are so goshdarn happy that they've got to sing how they feel for all to hear.  Cut yourself a slice of apple pie and settle in for a cinematic treat.

A full-fledged musical, we meet Professor Harold Hill (Robert Preston), a con man traveling salesman, as he stops by River City, Iowa, attempting to sell the town on forming a boy's marching band by giving him money for instruments and uniforms and then skedaddling before the townsfolk realize he's completely incapable of teaching anyone a note.  Along the way, Harold meets Marion (Shirley Jones), the town's librarian who seems to be the only one in town who fails to fall for Harold's quick-talking smooth lies.  It shouldn't be surprising that the shrewish Marion begins to be won over by the dashing Harold and therein lies the film's second half.

The story is light-hearted and amusing, but it wouldn't make any difference if the music wasn't any good.  However, there's nothing to worry about there as Meredith Wilson's music and lyrics are some of the best ever written for a musical.  It's a tremendously successful and varied collection of songs with nary a one hitting a bum note or causing a lull.  Director Morton DaCosta who directed the original Broadway version of the show has a surprisingly good eye for creating a successful cinematic experience.  Dance sequences are appropriately peppered throughout, but not too heavily to become overbearing bores.  He eases into songs naturally which is something that isn't easy to come by in movie musicals and, particularly great for the time, it hardly ever appears that the cast is singing to a pre-recorded track (of course, I'm assuming that they were and maybe that is an incorrect assumption).  There is a "theatricality" on display which I think helps the audience accept that they're watching a musical, but it certainly never once feels like you're watching a filmed stage musical.

Performances are great across the board from the leads down to the townsfolk who only speak one line.  Robert Preston won praises for his Tony-winning role as Harold Hill.  This is not an easy role to undertake as Meredith Wilson has created incredibly quick patter singing for the con man Hill.  Tackling difficult syncopation and counterpoints comes with such ease to Preston that it's hard to imagine anyone else taking on the role.  [Matthew Broderick tried in a remake and pretty much failed.]  Shirley Jones is simply lovely exuding charm at every turn.  You can't help but smile when she's onscreen.  Add in the young and precocious Ron(ny) Howard and a delightfully stuck-up Hermione Gingold among others and the whole cast shines.

I hadn't watched The Music Man in several years and I was a tiny bit worried that my fond childhood remembrances were not going to hold up.  I was incredibly pleased to throw those worries out the window and rediscover the fantastic film.

The RyMickey Rating:  A

Check out the other films in my Personal Canon like Saving Private Ryan and Beauty and the Beast by clicking this link.

The Personal Canon - Beauty and the Beast

The Personal Canon is a recurring column discussing my favorite movies of all time.  While they may not necessarily be "A" rated, they are the movies that, for some reason or another, hold a special place in my filmgoing experience.

Beauty and the Beast (1991)

[in 3D in select movie theaters]

Featuring the voice talent of Paige O'Hara, Robby Benson, Richard White, Jerry Orbach, David Ogden Stiers, and Angela Lansbury

Directed by Gary Trousdale and Kirk Wise

Where does one even begin when writing about a movie that they absolutely love?  Right up there with Alfred Hitchcock's masterpiece Psycho (and only a smidge behind that horror classic), Disney's Beauty and the Beast is my (2nd) favorite movie of all time.  I don't know if it came along at the right time in my youth (I would have been eleven at the time it was released), but something just clicked from the first time that I saw this film.  A meld of lovely hand-drawn animation, the best musical score ever written for the screen, and a simple story with charming characters, it's easy to see why Beauty and the Beast was the first animated film to be nominated for Best Picture at the Academy Awards.  [And let's be honest, if the field wasn't opened to ten nominees in the past two years, there's no way Up and Toy Story 3 would've been nominated, so part of me still feels that Beauty and the Beast is rightfully the only "real" animated Best Picture nominee.]

There's no way anything I write here is going to do this movie justice or truly depict why I think this movie is so special.  I don't even know if I can pinpoint and express all the reasons I love it so much.  However, watching it again on the big screen was a real joy.  [Although I'd love to see it with the non-necessary 3-D which, while not detrimental to the film in the slightest, didn't do a thing to enhance the experience.]  Animation-wise, it's amusing now to look back and see how far we've come in two decades.  The shift from hand-drawn to computer animation is certainly the key change, but even from a hand-drawn stand-point, the advancements have been huge.  That isn't to say that Beauty and the Beast looks out-dated or passé, but it is interesting to note that what was perfectly acceptable back then (most notably background characters standing perfectly still rather than have some motion to them) would never be kosher now.  Still, the film looks stunning.  Even with the darkening caused by the 3-D glasses, it looks bright and vibrant.  Scenes like the ballroom dance are gorgeous on the big screen and haven't lost any of their awe-inspiring wonder over the last twenty years.

The simple story is enhanced by charming songs crafted by the duo of Alan Menken and Howard Ashman.  The songs come naturally here, fitting in perfectly, enhancing and advancing the characters' storylines rather than stopping the story cold.  It struck me as I was watching the film this go-around (which was my first watch of this movie in probably close to five years) just how witty the late Howard Ashman's lyrics were.  One need look no further than "Gaston" than to see this on display where Ashman manages to rhyme "expectorating" and "celebrating" with great ease (and a lack of any feeling of force).  That isn't to give short shrift to Alan Menken's music either which runs the gamut from Broadway showstopper (in "Be Our Guest") to introspective (the often overlooked "Something There") to expository ("Belle" tells us all we need to know about several major characters within the first five minutes of the movie) to love song ("Beauty and the Beast"), each, with the help of Ashman's lyrics, hitting exactly the tone they set out to achieve.

Even at age eleven, I guess I was predestined to like this as I was already being groomed to be a Disney fan by my parents which may very well explain why I liked Beauty and the Beast so much back then.  However, the love for this flick has continued on for two decades and I think it's because it combines so much of what I look for in a great movie coupled with the love I have for the genre of animation.  It's got fantastic visuals, strong characters, comedy, drama, a great villain, wonderful songs, and beautiful animation.  All of that is coupled with a story that despite its simplicity resonates with audience of all ages.  This isn't a children's film -- this is simply a film.  It doesn't try to appeal to the six year-old in the audience any more than it tries to appeal to the sixty year-old in the audience (heck...what six year-old would get the classic Cogsworth joke "If it's not Baroque, don't fix it?" which still made me crack up even though I knew it was coming).  Often, this lack of trying to pin down an audience proves to be a failure for movies, but in the case of Beauty and the Beast it's what makes it so successful.

Much like when I wrote my first thoughts on Psycho on this blog, nothing I can write for Beauty and the Beast will be able to give justice to my thoughts on it (and anything that I do write about it will just be a disappointment when I go back and look at it two weeks from now).  So, rather than ramble on, I'll just bring this review to a stop only to say that I can't recommend enough that you go check this masterpiece out on the big screen once again.

The RyMickey Rating:  A+

Check out the other films in my Personal Canon like Return to Me and Once by clicking this link.

The Personal Canon - Return to Me

The Personal Canon is a recurring column discussing my favorite movies of all time.  While they may not necessarily be "A" rated, they are the movies that, for some reason or another, hold a special place in my filmgoing experience.

Return to Me (2000)

Starring David Duchovny, Minnie Driver, Bonnie Hunt, Jim Belushi, David Alan Grier, Carroll O'Connor, Robert Loggia, and Joely Richardson

Directed by Bonnie Hunt
***This film is currently streaming on Netflix***

This was my first watch of Return to Me in several years.  It was a film I simply became enamored with when I first watched it thanks to its endearing love story, its simplicity (despite its absolutely absurd premise), and its old-fashioned humor, and I was worried it wasn't going to hold up.  Seeing as how this review is posted under the heading of "The Personal Canon," it's pretty obvious that I still adore the movie.  I'm a sucker for a good romantic comedy and Return to Me is a film I love.

The reason the film was even on my radar upon its release in 2000 was because I'm a huge fan of Bonnie Hunt.  Now, Mom, if you're reading this, please don't take this the wrong way, but I always thought if I had to choose another mother for whatever reason, Bonnie Hunt would be a good substitute.  She exudes warmth but also has a wry sense of humor that when making a dig at its intended "victim" still comes with a hefty dose of heart.  That quality is certainly on display in this film which she both directed and co-wrote.  Granted, she may not have the greatest directorial eye -- there are a few incredibly corny moments at the beginning which resort to unnecessary flashbacks -- but despite her rather by-the-book visual sense, she allows her created characters to shine.

And goshdarnit, the characters in Return to Me are people that you want to get to know and become buddies with.  You want to head down to O'Reilly's Italian Restaurant run by the Irish Marty O'Reilly (the great Carroll O'Connor) and Italian Angelo Pardipillo (the equally great Robert Loggia) and sink into a booth while Marty's lovely granddaughter Grace (Minnie Driver) sings a tune while taking your order.  It's Grace whom the story revolves around who, at the film's start, is in the hospital on death's door awaiting a heart transplant.  As fate would have it, a heart comes Grace's way.  After a simply lovely evening out with his zoologist wife (Joely Richardson), a terrible car accident kills Bob Rueland's (David Duchovny) spouse leaving him emotionally devastated and Grace with Bob's wife's heart and a new lease on life.  You know where this is going, right?  Bob and Grace end up meeting a year later and fall in love in perhaps the sweetest, most innocent romance captured on film since the 1940s...and, since this is the cinema, after all, the truth will inevitably be discovered.

Yes, the plot is silly, but it works...trust me.  It works because the actors sell the innocence and purity of a movie that could've been made decades earlier (the Dean Martin-heavy soundtrack fits right in, in that respect).  David Duchovny and Minnie Driver have never been better as they get us to truly care about them despite the fact that we are well aware that there's going to be trouble for this couple up ahead. But the supporting cast around them is what really helps Return to Me shine and lifts it to that extra level.  Carroll O'Connor is absolutely darling -- sure, that's a silly term to use nowadays, but his good-natured, strongly Irish-Catholic grandfather is a joy to watch in both his interactions with Grace and his old man buddies.  When he sits in a church pew and prays for his granddaughter's surgery to succeed, we can't help but want the same thing even though we've only just met his character mere minutes before.  Jim Belushi and Bonnie Hunt are also hilarious and certainly worthy of a mention as the uncouth husband-and-wife duo who only want what's best for their good friend Grace.

I've recommended this movie to a lot of people and I've yet to have one person come back and tell me they disliked it.  There's something so innocently charming about Return to Me, and it's the film's lack of irony and refusal to stoop to raunch that makes this a film I can keep going back to year after year.  It's a love story that can be enjoyed by my twenty-four year-old brother or my eighty-five year-old grandmother or my fifty-eight year-old dad.  And that's a testament to its quality, in my opinion, and it's a testament to what makes a great film.  [And since this flick is streaming on Netflix, there's no excuse not to watch it.]

The RyMickey Rating:  A-


Check out my other Personal Canon films like Requiem for a Dream and United 93 by clicking this link.

The Personal Canon - Requiem for a Dream

The Personal Canon is a recurring column discussing my favorite movies of all time.  While they may not necessarily be "A" rated, they are the movies that, for some reason or another, hold a special place in my filmgoing experience.

Requiem for a Dream (2000)

Starring Jared Leto, Ellen Burstyn, Marlon Wayans, Jennifer Connelly, and Christopher McDonald

Directed by Darren Aronofsky

I previously reviewed Requiem for a Dream a little over two years ago (that review will contain a bit more of a summary of the film than this blog post if you're interested) and I resolutely stated that Darren Aronofsky's film is a bit of a masterpiece.  I firmly stand by that notion and am still in awe of the director's choice of camera techniques in order to place the viewer squarely in the mind of a drug addict.  Not only do we see Jared Leto's Harry or Jennifer Connelly's Marion snorting or popping or injecting their drug addiction into their systems, but we then get quickly edited, close-up shots of dilating pupils and crazed blood cells reacting to this foreign substance coming into their bodies.  Although difficult to necessarily convey on paper (or on a computer screen), these moments are visceral, breathtaking, and scary.

The reason these moments take on frightening tones comes from the fact that as we get to know these characters, it's obvious that their lives are not heading to a more peaceful place.  As Harry and Marion run out of money in order to support their addiction, the lengths to which they stoop to get their necessary kicks is devastatingly painful and a happy ending never seems to be in any of their futures.  However, illegal drugs aren't the only topic of discussion here.  Harry's mother, Sara (Ellen Burstyn), is desperate to lose some weight and begins to start a regimen of diet pills -- an addiction which slowly but surely spirals out of her control.

And it's perhaps the segments of the film dealing with Sara and her "legal" addiction that is most difficult to witness.  Here was a lovely Jewish woman who only wanted what was best for her family slowly plummeting into emotional horrors she likely never thought existed.  As her reality begins to twist and turn and her daily life becomes proliferated with hallucinatory visions of her favorite television show, one can't help but feel empathy for this woman.  Sure, we feel bad for her coke-addicted son, too, but there's a certain feeling that he brought that upon himself.  Sara, although somewhat responsible for her newfound predilection to pills, isn't necessarily finding the happiness in drugs that her son is, but she is hooked and simply unable to stop.

Certainly making the viewer feel for Sara is a stunning performance from Ellen Burstyn.  What starts off so innocently and perhaps caricaturish in her portrayal of a loving Jewish mother shifts into a woman who has lost complete control over everything.  Confused, scared, and unable to cope with her daily routines, Burstyn's Sara begins to be cut off from reality, forced into a dream-like (or perhaps nightmarish) state that is heartbreaking to watch.

Thanks to Darren Aronofsky, as the film progresses the viewer also finds themselves increasingly unable to escape the horrors of the characters onscreen.  The final thirty minutes is constantly ratcheting up the tension and he does this by incessantly switching back and forth between our four main characters (which also includes a wonderful turn from Marlon Wayans as Harry's friend Tyrone).  Every one of the quartet is finding themselves in horrifying situations they never would have dreamed possible and, much like the characters, we the viewers are never given a moment to breathe.

Kudos must also be given to the always fantastic Clint Mansell (Aronofsky's go-to composer) whose intense score for Requiem has become quite well-known and well-utilized in the cinematic world.  And this film certainly wouldn't be what it is without the awe-inspiring editing from Jay Rabinowitz.  His quick cutting and split screens are genius and certainly bring to life the aesthetic vision of the director.

This certainly isn't an analysis of Requiem for a Dream although there would certainly be plenty to write a college paper on.  Instead it's a rather "random thought" appreciation of a film that certainly won't appeal to everyone.  It's a difficult film to sit through and an even more difficult film to say you "enjoy."  All I know is that watching a brutal film like this would turn anyone off from experimenting with drugs and there's certainly something to be said for that.

The RyMickey Rating:  A

Check out previous Personal Canon flicks -- like Saving Private Ryan and Once -- by clicking on this link.

The Personal Canon - United 93

The Personal Canon is a recurring column highlighting my favorite films of all time.  While they may not necessarily be "A" rated, they are the movies that, for some reason or another, hold a special place in my filmgoing experience.

United 93 (2006)

Directed by Paul Greengrass

I knew no one personally affected by the tragedies that occurred on September 11, 2001, but in the grand scheme of things, all of us Americans were impacted by the events in one way or another.  I will not hide the fact that watching these memorial services in these days leading up to the tenth anniversary makes me slightly emotional.  Eyes well up, maybe even a tear falls...the whole thing hits at the patriotic core of me and many others.  And while there were many heroes involved in both the tragedies that occurred in New York City and Washington, D.C., on that fateful day ten years ago, those passengers on the fourth hijacked plane that crashed in Shanksville, Pennsylvania, were also patriots of the highest caliber.  Director Paul Greengrass' United 93 is their story...and, in a very broad sense, it's the story of all of us Americans, caught up in the sheer chaos of that day, completely on edge not knowing what was going to come next.  It's not an easy film to watch -- nor is it one I necessarily will feel the need to watch on any type of regular basis -- but it's a film that is simply amazing in a cinematic sense.  Not only does it affect me personally on a visceral level, but I also think it's a fantastically well-made film.

The story of the passengers and crew is already well known so there's no need to discuss the premise of United 93, so let's instead focus on the experience as a film.  Paul Greengrass (best known for directing the final two installments of the Bourne series) is masterful in both his writing and direction of this flick.  Fast-paced and moving at a rapid click, Greengrass utilizes a handheld camera, but never allows it to get to a sickening shaky level.  Jumping back and forth between the goings-on inside of the United 93 aircraft and the reactions of the air traffic controllers and governmental armed services responding to the hijacked aircraft, Greengrass creates a sense of unease, uncomfortableness, and tension.  Certainly aiding the film's flow, the events are presented in real time once United 93 lifts off the ground and the sense of distress is immensely palpable with each frame of the film further intensifying what we the viewers already know is the inevitable conclusion.


Oddly (and surprisingly effectively), Greengrass never introduces us to any of the characters by name.  Much like the passengers themselves wouldn't have known each other, we in the audience look at the heroic group as one entity.  The choice of choosing no big name actors (and in certain cases casting the actual air traffic controllers on duty that day and real life flight attendants to create authenticity) certainly aids in bringing about this sense of "group one-ness" rather than a notion of "individualized" people.  Still, we still find ourselves connecting with each person as they make their final phone calls to their loved ones and as they begin to formulate their plans to bring down the terrorists.  We will never know exactly what went on during United 93's journey, but Greegrass culls believable dialog and actions from the real life phone calls made by the passengers.  There are no knights in shining armor here, just "real" people responding to events they never thought they'd be a part of.   Despite the lack of star power, it's a superbly well-acted film with every single actor performing at top notch levels.


Banding together, denying the terrorists their victory, and sacrificing themselves in the process, the flight and crew of United 93 were certainly heroes and director Paul Greengrass tells their story in a documentary-type manner that singles none of them out.  United 93 is not a film that everyone is going to be able to watch.  It's intense and at times agonizing to view, but simply from a cinematic standpoint it really is a marvel.  When you couple the fantastic film aspects with a story that simply touches the heart of me as an American, you get a film that is an important one.  Granted, it's one that I don't need to watch for another several years due to the sheer displeasure of the story itself, but it's a film that I imagine I'll revisit in time to get a glimpse at the true patriots that were aboard that fateful flight.  While there may be more to come, United 93 is by far the best cinematic account thus far of the events that Tuesday morning ten years ago.

The RyMickey Rating:  A

The Personal Canon - Once

The Personal Canon is a recurring column highlighting my favorite films of all time.  While they may not necessarily be "A" rated, they are the movies that, for some reason or another, hold a special place in my filmgoing experience.

Once (2007)

Starring Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová

Directed by John Carney

I don't know if it's because I've played the piano for nearly 25 years, but for some reason or another, music in movies can make a major impact on me.  Whether it be a soundtrack culled from other sources (see my previous Personal Canon post on Sleepless in Seattle) or created specifically for the film as in this latest entry into the Canon, Once, I have an affinity for scores and/or songs in cinema.  If you were to ask me, "Are you more of a movie or music buff," my answer unequivocally would be film, but putting these two mediums together is oftentimes fascinating to me.  Certainly, this mixing of the two is one of the major reasons why I love the movie Once.  It certainly helps that the film has a good (though incredibly simple) story and two fantastic lead actors, but it is the melding of cinema and music that makes this film stand out to me.

There are two scenes in Once where the lead actor (Glen Hansard) watches the lead actress (Markéta Irglová) play the piano.  [It should be noted that neither lead has a name in the film, so for the purposes of this review, they'll be Guy and Girl].  We see everything in Guy's eyes.  He loves Girl.  Even though they've met only hours before (in the first instance) or days before (in the second instance), when Girl sits at the piano, it's her true self and it fascinates and intrigues him.  Admittedly, I never noticed this before, but in this, my fifth or sixth time watching the film, these two scenes were stunning in their simplicity.  No words are spoken, but the audience knows every single thing that's going on in Guy's eyes.

That's certainly a tribute to Glen Hansard, lead singer for the Irish group The Frames and co-lead of his duo with Ms. Irglová, The Swell Season.  The film totally goes for a naturalistic, day-in-the-life style of filming and Hansard (in what is essentially his first and only acting role) is nothing short of electric.  Then he starts to sing and he gets even more into his element and it really becomes a beauty of a performance.

Marketá Irglová (also a non-actor in her first film role), a mere seventeen years old when the film was shot, is infinitely wiser beyond her years (and not playing seventeen in the film...it should be noted that the discovery that she was seventeen kind of freaked me out because I would never have guessed that she was so young).  When she first meets Guy as he performs his music busker-style on the streets of Ireland, you can see that she's kind of crushing on him.  But she plays hard to get quite convincingly.  The pair find a mutual respect and love for one another through music, but both are being pulled away from each other romantically by separate forces -- Guy by his ex whom he maybe still loves who is now living in London and Girl by her estranged husband with whom she has a young daughter.  The pair tries to tell themselves that these other forces from the past are more important than the obvious tangible feelings in the present, but it's obvious to them (and to us) that they're simply too afraid to admit their true feelings to one another.  (It should be noted that the chemistry between these two is palpable.)

And then there's the wonderful music which takes up over half of the film's 86-minute running time.  I saw Hansard and Irglová in concert with The Frames about two years after they won the much deserved Oscar for Best Song for this film and they were fantastic.  Out of context, the songs from the movie still work amazingly well.  However, in context, they're even more beautiful.  Once isn't a "musical," per se, with people breaking out into song to express their feelings.  Instead, the two leads are musicians and the music simply comes naturally to them.  There is never a sense that any song feels forced into the film simply to pad the running time...they're all there for a reason and, goshdarnit, I love them.

And it's that melding of music and movie that make Once an unmitigated success to me.  It's an incredibly simple film with gorgeous music, great performances from non-actors, and nice documentary-esque, natural direction from musician-turned-director John Carney.  Much like a viewing of Psycho has become my Halloween tradition, a viewing of Once has now become this non-Irish guy's way of celebrating St. Paddy's Day.

The RyMickey Rating:  A

The Personal Canon - Sleepless in Seattle

The Personal Canon is a recurring column highlighting my favorite films of all time.  While they may not necessarily be "A" rated, they are the movies that, for some reason or another, hold a special place in my filmgoing experience.

Sleepless in Seattle (1993)

Starring Tom Hanks, Meg Ryan, Ross Malinger, Bill Pullman, Rosie O'Donnell, Victor Garber, Rita Wilson, David Hyde Pierce, and Rob Reiner

Directed by Nora Ephron

Call me a wuss all you want, but I'm secure enough in my manhood to say that I love Sleepless in Seattle.  It's one of those movies that I will keep on every single time I come across it on TBS or TNT despite the fact that I own it.  It's a movie that I love enough that I wrote a paper on it in a college film class (that earned me a near perfect A-).  It's one of those movies that makes me feel good...and goshdarnit there's nothing wrong with that.  Sure, it may not be "epic" or ingeniously directed, but it holds a place in my Personal Canon and ranks quite high up there on my list of All-Time Favorite Movies (which, I guess is kind of redundant since the Personal Canon will really only contain my "All-Time Favorite Movies").

Based a bit upon the classic film An Affair to Remember (which I watched as part of a double feature following Sleepless one year and found it treacly and cloying), director and co-screenwriter Nora Ephron's flick keeps our two leading actors -- Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan in perhaps my favorite roles of each of theirs -- apart for nearly the entire movie.  We know that fate will bring Hanks's widowed father-of-one Sam Baldwin and Ryan's recently-engaged-although-probably-just-settling-in-love Annie Reed together, but the process of getting the two to meet is what makes this movie work.

And a huge part of that successful process of uniting the two adults is child actor Ross Malinger as Sam's son Jonah.  This is a character that could've easily been one of those "too smart for his own good" types, but is probably the best part of the movie.  The father-son bond created by Hanks and Malinger is what sells me on this film.  The relationship moves seamlessly from the gut-wrenching moments of sadness following the death of Sam's wife to the rather humorous scenes several months later depicting Jonah's dislike of Sam's new girlfriend.  Despite the wide-range of emotions, there's never a false moment between these two and that's just as much of a credit to little Ross Malinger as it is Oscar-winning Tom Hanks.  [Of note: Malinger is the voice of T.J. on the animated show Recess...I knew I liked that show for a reason.]

As good as Hanks and Malinger are, Meg Ryan shines as well even if her role is a little less developed than her male counterparts.  This is film that made her America's Sweetheart in the early 90s and her Annie is just about as cute as could be.  She exudes charm, wit, and kindness -- three characteristics that will get a lady far in my book.  She may not be the sexiest woman on the block, but she's the one that would catch my eye nonetheless.  (Of course, nowadays, Ms. Ryan's plasticky face would make me run the other way).

Sleepless in Seattle actually falls a little more on the romance side of the "romantic comedy" descriptor, but the humor is provided by the supporting characters, none of whom overstay their welcome.  Whether it be Rob Reiner as Sam's buddy or Rosie O'Donnell as Annie's boss, they give the gentle funny nudging that the two leads need in order to get to that inevitable climactic meeting.  Add Rita Wilson, Victor Garber, and Bill Pullman to the mix and there's not a bad actor onscreen.  Honestly, there's not a funny moment that falls flat.  Every joke hits the mark.

All this being said, one of my favorite aspects of Sleepless in Seattle (and what I wrote that aforementioned paper on) is the film's spot-on use of music.  Using original recordings of classic songs like Nat King Cole's "Stardust," Gene Autry's "Back in the Saddle Again" and covers of standards like "Makin' Whoopee" and "In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning," music supervisor Marc Shaiman worked rather ingeniously with Nora Ephron to utilize music to both provide humor and further the plot by cluing us in to the characters' inner thoughts.  I'm not sure I've ever heard music so expertly placed in a film as in this flick and it's honestly one of the biggest reasons why I love this film.

Say what you will, but Sleepless in Seattle is one of the absolute best romantic comedies of my generation.  It never finds itself needing to be lewd or crude, but instead is sweet without ever being too sugary.  It's a movie that you can watch with your twelve year-old nephew or your ninety year-old grandmom and both will enjoy it.  It's simple, but lovely, full of terrific little moments that just make you go "awww" -- one concerning the peeling of an apple gets me every single time.  If you've never seen it, leave your cynicism at the door and check it out.  And Happy Valentine's Day to all...

The RyMickey Rating:  A

The Personal Canon - Saving Private Ryan

The Personal Canon is a recurring column highlighting my favorite films of all time.  While they may not necessarily be "A" rated, they are the movies that, for some reason or another, hold a special place in my filmgoing experience.

Saving Private Ryan (1998)

Starring Tom Hanks, Edward Burns, Tom Sizemore, Jeremy Davies, Barry Pepper, Adam Goldberg, Giovanni Ribisi, Vin Diesel, and Matt Damon

Directed by Steven Spielberg

Damn you, Saving Private Ryan.  When the single tear rolled down my cheek after watching you on my freshly received Blu-Ray, I was cursing your name.  I remember back on your opening day on July 24, 1998, as a somewhat fresh high school graduate, I sat in a theater full of mostly senior citizens (of which I assumed some were veterans) for your opening show.  Even twelve years ago, I remember welling up as the credits began to roll.  And I was not alone in the watery eye department.  You worked your emotions on nearly everyone in the theater.  I'm more than happy to report that you still stand the test of time, providing an eye-popping, gut-wrenching, and awe-inspiring glimpse into the trials our soldiers tackled head-on in World War II.

No discussion of director Steven Spielberg's Saving Private Ryan can be had without discussing the epic Omaha Beach D-Day battle sequence that opens the film.  A directing tour de force of the highest degree, Spielberg places us squarely in the action, not giving us a moment to breath for over twenty minutes.  In front of our very eyes, limbs are lost, explosions tear bodies apart -- loss of life everywhere.  The scene is relentless, unceasing, and as a viewer there is no greater desire for this assault (both physically and visually) to end. Emotionally, it's painful to watch.  Cinematically, it's brilliant.  Immediately, Spielberg has made us a soldier, shakily moving the camera as if we were standing on the beach witnessing the horrific chaos.  

By placing us in a soldier's shoes from the outset, we become one of the small battalion of men who go on a mission to search for Private James Ryan (Matt Damon) whose three brothers have been killed in various battles during the war.  Ordered from his superiors to find Ryan, Captain John Miller (Tom Hanks) and a group of eight other soldiers trek across France looking for, as Capt. Miller perfectly describes it, "a needle in a stack of needles."  Along the way, smaller battles will be fought, soldiers will be lost, and the fear, pain, joy, and camaraderie are palpably felt by the viewer.

Even though the film is bookended by two intense, lengthy battle sequences, a huge chunk of the emotional impact the film garners is derived from the quiet moments.  Towards the beginning, there's a gut check moment in which Ryan's mother is given the news that her sons have died.  There is not a word spoken in the scene by anyone, but the emotional impact of John William's melancholic score and Janusz Kaminski's breathtaking Academy Award-winning cinematography (coupled, of course, with Spielberg's deft direction and stellar acting even from secondary actors) make this moment instantly memorable.  Another particular "calm before the storm" moment occurs prior to the film's final battle where the surviving soldiers sit around thinking about life at home.  As they boast about sexual encounters or discuss simply missing their wife's rose garden, these quiet, understated moments in Robert Rodat's script allow us to get to know our fellow soldiers, all the while amplifying the anticipatory tension of the inevitable impact of the forthcoming battles.

Of course, the emotional resonance wouldn't make much of a difference if the actors in the film didn't shape characters to care about, but that's not a problem in the slightest.  Some may think Tom Hanks is rather subdued as Captain Miller and while they wouldn't be wrong per se, the dedication of Miller to both his military career and his fellow soldiers is the greatest quality Hanks brings to the character.  While Edward Burns brings a sarcastic roughness to his Private Reiben, Jeremy Davies' Corporal Upham is just the opposite -- scared and meek as he faces his first combat experience (mirroring, perhaps, how we may feel were we in his shoes).  Adam Goldberg, Giovanni Ribisi, Vin Diesel, Barry Pepper, and Tom Sizemore each craft distinct characters which, to me anyway, is not an easy thing to do in war movies in which many of the physical characteristics of people are so similar.

Unlike some future films that will be a part of my Personal Canon, Saving Private Ryan was honored by many of the year-end awards bodies.  For what it's worth, it walked away with Golden Globes for Best Picture Drama and Best Director.  At the Oscars, the film was nominated for eleven awards, walking away with five for Best Director, Best Cinematography, Best Sound, Best Sound Effects Editing, and Best Film Editing.  It did, however, lose the big Best Picture award in a memorable upset to Shakespeare in Love, a film I have grown to really enjoy in recent years (and, who knows...it may end up in the canon in time, I enjoy it that much).  But for it to beat Saving Private Ryan?  That's just crazy.  Granted, if Ryan has a fault it's that it runs on a tad too long, but it never feels like the nearly three hour film that it is.  Maybe folks in the Academy couldn't get past the intense opening reel (or maybe those infamous Weinstein brothers -- the producers of Shakespeare -- paid off a bunch of voters). 

I'm not afraid or ashamed to admit that Saving Private Ryan hits me in the gut and genuinely makes me well up.  I wiped away a single tear as the film concluded.  Yes, I knew how it ended, but this film fires on all emotional cylinders, rousing up pride for our country and our soldiers who helped shape this country into what it is today.  You ladies can cry over something like The Notebook, but give me a movie that, while perhaps sad, is about the joys of the brotherhood of man.  That's what gets to me and Saving Private Ryan fits the bill perfectly.

The RyMickey Rating:  A

The Personal Canon

If you google "film canon," you'll like find a bunch of folks listing off pretentious movies as if these films are the best cinema has to offer.  In an effort to make themselves feel superior to us regular moviegoers, many of the films in peoples' canons will be foreign or made decades upon decades ago or be overly violent or edgy.  Now, personally I have nothing against foreign films or older films or edgy, violent films, and if you want to include them in your canon, that's fine with me (in fact, there will likely be some of each in my canon).

However, my personal canon is filled with films that perhaps may not have been groundbreaking in cinema, but mean something to me (for example, you won't find the mundane [story-wise] Citizen Kane here even though I fully recognize the very significant impact it made on the industry).  That's not to say that films that bring something new to the table wouldn't be in the canon, but I'm not going to include them simply because they were innovative.

Films in my Personal Canon will be films that mean something to me in one way or another.  Did they make me crack up?  Did they make me cry?  Did they make me think about something in a new light?  Did they make me appreciate the medium that is film even more?  The movies in my canon may not necessarily get the "A" rating, but they're films that even though they may be flawed, I return to again and again simply because I truly love them.  With rare exception, these are going to be movies that I've seen multiple times as it's oftentimes difficult (though not impossible -- see here) for a movie to jump into the Personal Canon after just one viewing.

So, within the next week, I'll announce the first film in my Personal Canon.  Several of the films may be expected (and may show up on those snooty film canons that pepper the internet already), but many others will be unique.

It's time to watch some good movies for a change...