The credits for ‘Metropolis’ give a fair indication of what you can expect from the film:
‘Grot, the Guardian of the Heart-Machine’ played by Heinrich George
‘The Creative Man’, ‘The Machine Man’, ‘Death’, ‘The Seven Deadly Sins’, and ‘Maria’ played by Brigitte Helm
Oh, and there’s a sculptor too. But he’s not a character – he was responsible for the creation of the robot costume…
Yep.
“A priest, a woodcutter and a commoner are taking refuge from a rainstorm…”
If you think that sounds like the start of a bad joke you’d be right.
If you’re an Australian aged 10 or over then you’ve probably, at least once in your life, employed the resources of a large sheet of cardboard, the prevailing reference source at the time (in my case, Encarta ’95) and a generous helping of glitter, to create a project on Australia’s Gold Rush. You may have even ventured to Ballarat (or similar) to try your hand at panning for the stuff.
If you’re anything like me, you’ll remember little about the Gold Rush itself. You were far too engrossed in creating the perfect bubble writing (which would take up at least one third of the sheet of cardboard, leaving you with far less space to fill with researched information).
Now, I’m not entirely sure what my point is, except that this movie transported me all the way back to those days. ‘The Treasure of the Sierra Madre’ tells the story of a band of prospectors quite successfully mining for gold during The Americas’ own Gold Rush.
The movie stars Humphrey Bogart, about whom I know very little except that he likes to smoke, wear hats, and look at kids…
After watching this film I am reminded of that beloved Lano and Woodley scene (for those of you unfamiliar with Lano & Woodley, they’re like a modern day Abbot and Costello)…
Frank: You know, the actor guy! Oh, what is his name? See, the thing is… the thing is… the thing is that when I say his name, you’ll go, ‘YES! The actor guy, love him, adore him… ‘ But I can’t think of his name. It’s on the tip of my tongue. You know who I mean – he’s got the hair… the eyes… a bit of a nose… and a mouth and it’s all held together with… like a FACE!
That’s how I felt when I saw the lead actor in this film.
But, it wasn’t “The actor guy” (Gregory Peck). It was my old mate Fred MacMurray again! That guy is a chameleon I’m telling you.
ANYWAY, you’ll all be pleased to know that I’ve found yet another film that I actually enjoyed!
In fact, I knew I was going to like this film the minute the opening credits started rolling…
Andy’s starting to really dislike watching my movies with me. Now, however, in the midst of my ‘No TV’ challenge, there’s really nothing else I can watch with him and so, occasionally, he’ll whip out the latest selection and (somewhat reluctantly) press play.
I really don’t know what his problem is… Although I suspect it might have something to do with the constant moaning emanating from the opposite end of the lounge.
“I’m boooorrrrred….”
“When will it ennnnd Aannnndeee?”
“I’m just going into the other room to shoot myself. Let me know when it’s over”.
‘The Third Man’ was no exception.
What an absolute stinker!
It took us two days to wade through the dense narration that is Sunset Blvd. and I’m still coming to terms with how it could possibly arrive at number 32 on the imdb top 250 list and therefore my own top 100.
The 1950 black and white film provided yet another lacklustre performance by a male lead (much like ‘North by Northwest‘) and again was rescued only by the stellar performance of the female lead, in this case Gloria Swanson, who (somewhat autobiographically) plays the washed up silent movie actress, Norma Desmond.
Norman Desmond is a crackpot from go to whoa…. (Like, seriously, Whoa! Back off!)
Joe Gillis: You’re Norma Desmond. You used to be in silent pictures. You used to be big.
Norma Desmond: I *am* big. It’s the *pictures* that got small.
Joe Gillis’ narration left me feeling like I was passing through the Twilight Zone over and over again. Not in a Bella Swan way, mind you, but in the old-school, black and white, “scary door” kinda way, to which I have (being my father’s daughter) become quite accustomed. Naturally, I have no quarrel with entering the Twilight Zone… I suppose I have just come to expect that, upon entering said Zone, I will be enraptured until the very end, pausing only to ponder, “What the…” (as opposed to, “I think it’s bed time”).
At one point, Joe soliloquises, “Audiences don’t know somebody sits down and writes a picture; they think the actors make it up as they go along”. However, that couldn’t be further from the truth in this film. I was constantly reminded of some jilted man (or several) behind the scenes etching “crazy” into the bones of Norma Desmond. It’s fatal attraction minus the ‘Whitey’ the bunny (AKA ‘Stu’).
The love story subplot completely missed the mark, causing me to wonder whether women should be so keen on the idea of chivalry, if its death coincides with men gaining an appreciation of true romance beyond “Shut up and kiss me!”
In any event, I didn’t enjoy the film and, if I’m going to be honest….
(I’m ready for my close-up….)
…
……
4 pumpkins.
Have you seen ‘Sunset Blvd.’? Do you agree with my review? Let me know in the comments below.
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