Eskimo (1934)

It’s probably important to note that Eskimo is not a documentary. It’s based upon two novels by a Danish explorer familiar with the Arctic and, presumably, Alaska where the movie is set. The film does provide some anthropological interest in its depictions of aspects of life in a small village – activities like salmon fishing, duck hunting, walrus hunting. However, once you realize that, clearly, many of these scenes were shot using rear projection, and that the actors are nowhere actually near the walrus or the polar bear, the film becomes more of a rather tawdry tale of revenge. Mala (played by Native American actor Ray Mala) is the best hunter in his village, and many take advantage of his prowess to keep them alive in the harsh climate. It doesn’t take long, though, for the film to throw us a curve by showing that Eskimo husbands let close friends have sex with their wives. I mean, I guess they really have to be close friends and it’s only when the friend is lonely because they’ve been widowed or something, but still, that’s a strange custom, not one very supportive of women’s desires. It becomes even stranger when Mala goes with his wife Aba (the lovely Lulu Wong Wing) to a trading ship that’s been trapped in the ice. He meets a white captain (played in an intriguing bit of casting by Peter Freuchen, the author of the novels that were the source of the plot), who trades a rifle for furs and then rapes Aba after demanding that Mala let her stay on the ship for the night. Despite promises that he will not molest Aba again, the captain rapes her again while Mala is gone on a whale hunt with the sailors. When she leaves the ship, the ship’s mate accidentally shoots and kills her by mistake, thinking that she’s a seal lying on the frozen ground. Mala harpoons the captain – you knew that his skill at harpooning whales would come in handy later – and then returns home to his children and village. Mala remains haunted for a long time over Ada’s death and his killing of the captain, but he feels renewed when he gets a new name (Kripik), which no one seems to remember to call him, and a visiting friend gives him one of his wives so that Mala will no longer be alone. If that’s not enough of a melodramatic plot, the Mounties show up and start investigating old cases, particularly ones involving native people. They learn about Mala’s killing of the captain and try to question him, but he doesn’t quite understand their intentions. He manages to escape by injuring his hands pulling them through handcuffs. He tries to return home, but the weather is particularly brutal. He has to start eating his sled dogs in order to survive, and he's almost killed by a wolf when he’s near death. It’s a wild movie in terms of one character’s arc. The ending is a bit of a happy one even though it initially seems like Mala and his new wife Iva (Lotus Long) may be committing suicide by leaping onto an ice floe. Eskimo was filmed using the native language Inupiat with intertitles translating into English. The pronoun usage, though, is still tough to understand, at least initially. “One” means “I,” and “someone” means “you.” Reading the intertitles takes some effort because the grammatical structure is different, but given all that happens to Mala and his family, some pronoun confusion is the least of our concerns as viewers. On a final note, here’s a bit of Oscar trivia: Eskimo was the first film ever to win an Oscar for editing; the category was added to the list of honors for 1934 films.

Oscar Win: Best Film Editing

55 Days at Peking (1963)

 

Several decades ago now, I was teaching a five-night-a-week English as a Second Language class in Monterey Park. Most of the students were recent immigrants from China and Taiwan and other Asian countries although someone from Saudi Arabia or Mexico would occasionally sign up. On Friday nights, we were given permission to watch American movies and practice conversational skills in English with the students. One Friday, I showed 55 Days at Peking, a film set against the backdrop of the Boxer Rebellion of 1900, to the class and they became so angry with me. They were adamant that the movie was completely inaccurate in its portrayal of what truly happened. Well, of course, it isn’t accurate. It’s a Hollywood movie that depicts an episode of Chinese history from the perspective of those who were trying to exert influence in China: England, the United States, France, Germany, Russia, Japan, etc. – in other words, the very people that the Boxers were rebelling against. The central character, of course, is an American, Marine Maj. Matt Lewis, played by Charlton Heston with his usual woodenness. He did always think he was more charming than he actually was, didn’t he? Sometimes I think the only reason to watch a Heston movie is for the inevitable shirtless scene. Ava Gardner plays a Russian baroness, a beautiful woman with a past, which means that all of the other women hate her because their husbands can’t help but admire the Baroness Natalie Ivanoff’s beauty. Well, who could resist Gardner? She was always a good actress, but she isn’t given much to do here except try to escape from China, fail, and then tend to a wounded soldier. Oh, she and Heston do get to share a hotel room because there’s no other place for him to stay, but sadly, not enough is made of that tantalizing possibility. David Niven plays the leader of the British contingent in China, Sir Arthur Robinson, which means he’s also the de facto leader of the foreign legation. He and his wife question why Great Britain (and everyone else) is in China, and there’s lot of talk of leaving, but do colonial powers ever truly leave an area? The most embarrassing bit of casting is having British actors in yellowface. Dame Flora Robson plays the Dowager Empress, who mostly just sits around and speaks in odd metaphors. She has two advisors, the prince (who openly supports the Boxers trying to rid China of Western influence) and a general. The prince is played by another British actor, Sir Robert Helpmann, and Leo Genn, yet another Brit, plays the general. Yes, such casting was common at the time, but it’s still grating to see it on the screen. The film features outstanding production design, marvelous costumes, lovely cinematography – all depicted on a rather grand scale. At the level of an epic, it works well enough, I suppose, but the film is a bit soulless since it’s clearly taken what might charitably be characterized as the wrong side of the battle to support. The battle sequences themselves are well staged, but your natural sympathies might be on the side of those who are being occupied. The film has to have Robinson’s son get shot in order to get some emotion going. By the time Heston’s Lewis has to tell an Asian girl that his American father has been killed, you start to wonder if the only way to make the viewer care for the Western side of the story is to harm a child. When Lewis has the brilliant idea to use the sewer system to get in and out of the palace grounds to destroy some ammunition – something none of the Chinese had apparently ever considered? – you have to acknowledge that maybe my students all those years ago were right to be angry with me. Come to 55 Days at Peking for the spectacle but avoid trying to learn any accurate historical information. Consider yourself warned.

Oscar Nominations: Best Original Song (“So Little Time”) and Best Substantially Original Score

Black Hawk Down (2001)

 

Black Hawk Down is pretty unsparing in its depiction of the brutalities of war. There’s a lot of death and a lot of gore and a lot of blood in this movie, which was based on a particularly terrible day in Mogadishu in 1993. The American military attempts to capture and/or kill a warlord who’s decided to call himself the president during the Somali Civil War, and one bad, horrible thing after another happens. A helicopter crashes after being damaged in battle, another is shot down by a rocket grenade, a new soldier falls from a helicopter – it’s just a series of disasters. Troops are sent to rescue the survivors from the helicopter crashes, but they face some very well-organized Somalis, who keep them from reaching the target locations. The film features lots of young actors, many of them quite talented, but no one gets much screen time. Perhaps it’s a reminder not to become too attached to someone in a war zone like this. Josh Hartnett is billed first as newly-in-command Staff Sergeant Matt Eversmann, but his is just one of many stories we witness, however briefly. Eric Bana is an enigmatic sniper, and he’s always intriguing when he pops up the screen. Blink, though, and you might miss performances by Hugh Dancy, Ioan Gruffudd, Tom Hardy, Orlando Bloom, Ty Burrell, and Nikolaj Coster-Waldau. The film, based on a true story, of course, seems to place the blame for the errors on bad leadership decisions. Sam Shepard plays Major General William F. Garrison, and he and the other leaders of the mission just don’t seem to want to listen to honest assessments of the situation; their decisions lead to a lot of dead and wounded in a single, disastrous day. There’s an old saying that all war films are anti-war films because if you truly and (somewhat) accurately portray what happens in wartime, viewers become more opposed to it. I’m not as familiar with the historical events surrounding the U.S. involvement in the Somali Civil War as I could or perhaps should be, and there has been some criticism of this film for its inaccuracies. (Why do people go to see fiction films expecting a history lesson?) Still, even if its accuracy is flawed, watching Black Hawk Down leaves the viewer wondering just how much the raid accomplished and if it was worth the cost in human lives. Director Ridley Scott and his crew deciding to place us in the midst of all of the death and destruction of wartime certainly seems to suggest that they think it wasn’t.

Oscar Wins: Best Film Editing and Best Sound

Other Oscar Nominations: Best Director (Ridley Scott) and Best Cinematography

The Gospel According to St. Matthew (1966)

 

In retrospect, it’s tough to imagine more unlikely director for The Gospel According to St. Matthew (originally known as Il vangelo secondo Matteo and originally released in 1964), a surprisingly faithful adaptation of the Book of Matthew, than Pier Paolo Pasolini. It’s not that he isn’t a great director – he is – but he was also a self-identified atheist. And, yet, he and his crew have created a beautiful film that hews closely to the original words of the Bible. Well, to be fair, the subtitles are almost verbatim from the King James Version of the Bible, and I can’t vouch for the Italian that the performers speak. The film follows the story of Christ from his birth to his resurrection. He’s played here by a beautiful young Spaniard, Enrique Irazoqui, who portrays Jesus as a sort of angry young man with an unfortunate unibrow. By the way, is it a requirement that actors who play Jesus be beautiful? I’ve tried to think of a single cinematic Jesus who was homely or even just average-looking, but to no avail. Give that Pasolini was also public about his being gay, the many close-ups of Irazoqui highlight the young man’s features as he addresses the disciples and speaks what will later be known as the Gospels. Jesus gets confronted and questioned a lot in this movie, and he’s always ready with an answer even if not everyone else, including his disciples, fully understands the meanings and implications of what he says. All of the performers in the movie are non-professionals, and they have some great faces, some lovely, some less so, some with lots of what used to be called “character.” They get close-ups too, so that we can see their reactions to Jesus’s words. The film has a very pared-down style; it doesn’t go for the hyperbole of many (Hollywood) Biblical dramas. Even Jesus’s walk on water is presented very matter-of-factly. The exceptions are the so-called Massacre of the Innocents on the orders of King Herod, who tried to ensure the death of Jesus as a baby, and the crucifixion of Christ. Both of those sequences are difficult to watch. The Gospel According to St. Matthew is gorgeously shot in black-and-white among ruins that evoke the period. It also features some very eclectic and not period-appropriate music, ranging from expected classical pieces to songs by Odetta and Blind Willie Johnson. One of the things that most impressed me about the film was its use of silence. Many times, we are treated to visuals without any dialogue, and they are stunning in their impact. As unexpected a choice for director as Pasolini might have been, he certainly understood the power of cinema to create the right mood for a film like this one.

Oscar Nominations: Best Black-and-White Art Direction-Set Decoration, Best Black-and-White Costume Design, and Best Scoring of Music, Adaptation or Treatment

Best One-Reel Short Subject for 1938

 

The Great Heart relates the history of Father Damien, a Belgian priest who arrived in Hawaii in the mid-19^th Century and started working with lepers. Well, he wasn’t actually a priest yet when he arrived, but since he was the only one who was willing to break the taboo on touching lepers, he became the priest to a leper colony on the island of Molokai. The lepers who were isolated there initially resist his efforts to help as well as his attempts to get them to worship. He does get their attention when he destroys the places where they drink too much alcohol and engage in what a priest might consider bad behavior, stuff like dancing and, as the narrator puts it, “love-making” (even though an astute viewer certainly knows what that euphemism means). Father Damien (played by youthful-looking Tom Neal, sometimes in less-than-realistic old-age makeup) and a few others slowly start making improvements to the island, but when he changes the opening of his sermons from “my brethren” to “we lepers,” revealing that he too has become infected, the news of his illness generates lots of donations and other assistance—plus greater attention to the plight of those afflicted with leprosy. Carey Wilson, the narrator of this short, displays a sense of earnestness that borders on the hyperbolic at times. When he asks, “Your heart is undaunted, isn’t it, Damien?”, you want to remind Wilson that Father Damien has been long dead and buried and probably cannot answer such an excessive question. I did learn from this film that one of the effects of leprosy is that the body feels no pain due to a loss of nerve sensation; that’s actually how Father Damien learns of his infection, being unable to feel the heat from the water in which he is soaking his feet. Thousands died from the horrible disease, but this film does take it pretty easy on its viewers by never showing the faces of any of the lepers, just their backs or their silhouettes. The implication is that it’s perhaps just too hideous a disease to witness closely in person. That is, unless (as Wilson puts it) you have a “great brave young heart” like Father Damien. I suppose by the end of the story of his life and all of the sacrifices that he made, the hyperbole might be earned – just a bit.

That Mothers Might Live details the realization by a 19^th-Century Hungarian physician, Dr. Ignaz Philipp Semmelweis, of the need by medical professionals to wash their hands before treating patients. It begins with his concern that so many women were dying in hospitals after giving birth. Dr. Semmelweis (played by Sheppard Strudwick) even writes a book, The Prevention of Childhood Fever (the film’s shorter version of the actual title, Etiology, Concept, and Prophylaxis of Childbed Fever), detailing the need for antiseptic measures to limit the spread of germs and prevent puerperal fever, but he is, of course, initially ostracized by the medical community. We all know now that his ideas later caught on and are considered standard medical procedure, but it took decades for his ideas to slowly catch on throughout Europe. This short is a nice, illuminating tribute to a somewhat forgotten medical pioneer, and it reaches quite an emotional climax with Emmelweis’s increasing mental instability and his death in an asylum. However, the filmmakers made a rather strange choice: Strudwick and the other actors do not speak on camera. Voiceover narration by John Nesbitt (most famous nowadays for his narration of the MGM series The Passing Parade) provides the dialogue, all in a rather melodramatic, even hyperbolic, at times, tone. Why weren’t the actors allowed to speak their lines? Was it cheaper just to have a narrator say everything? It’s quite distracting to watch as the actors recited dialogue only to hear Nesbitt’s voice instead. This choice doesn’t detract too much from the overall strength of the storyline, but it is odd nonetheless. (By the way, The Great Heart makes the same choice for voiceover narration rather than the actors speaking their lines. It must have been a thing in the 1930s.)

I’ve had no luck finding information on Timber Toppers, the third nominee for Best One-Reel Short Subject. All that’s available online is that it runs 10 minutes, was directed by Tom Cumminsky, and was released by 20^th Century Fox. It’s not available for streaming, not even on “those websites” that specialize in films that are not available elsewhere. Presumably, it’s about the timber industry since “timber topping” is a term associated with the production of lumber, but that’s hardly enough to judge the quality of a short film. Oddly enough, no one even states whether or not it’s a lost film. Since that’s the case, I have not choice but to add it to my list of movies I’m likely never to see in order to complete this project.

Oscar Winner: That Mothers Might Live

My Choice: Since I’ve only seen two of the three and both of those were melodramatic and over-the-top, I’d pick That Mothers Might Live as a toss-up. They both deal with individuals who made a difference in the treatment and care of others, but Dr. Emmelweis might have had a somewhat larger and profound impact. Both That Mothers Might Live and The Great Heart tread some of the same territory, though, and use some of the same storytelling methods.

Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (1984)

 

Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom is a darker, far scarier sequel to Raiders of the Lost Ark. Much of the humor of the original Indiana Jones film has been somewhat abandoned for the sake of some very intense stuff, including several onscreen deaths. This time around, Jones (played reliably by Harrison Ford again) has to retrieve a sacred stone and all of the children that were taken from an Indian village by members of a strange cult that has overtaken the palace of a very young and way too impressionable Maharaja. Among the potential joys of being captured by this cult are perhaps having your heart removed from your body while still alive and maybe also being sacrificed to an intense pool of lava, both of which are shown directly on screen. The intensity of some of these images eventually led to the creation of a new motion picture rating, PG-13, because the Motion Picture Association of America deemed them inappropriate (but after the movie’s release, naturally, and only after the uproar from some parents) for younger audience members. Ford, the main draw here, is his usual sardonic, smart, tough, swaggering self, but he’s never safe for long, which is good for a role like this. He’s ably supported this time by Ke Huy Quan as Short Round. Quan gives such a great performance that it's difficult to believe that he was only about 12 years old at the time of filming and that this was his first acting role. I’d call it one of the best child performances in movie history, but really it’s great regardless of the actor’s age. On the other hand, though, is the performance of Kate Capshaw as Willie, a nightclub singer that Jones rescues in the film’s Shanghai opening. Frankly, her character is so annoying throughout the movie that it’s tough to see why Indy is attracted to her at all. She does a lot of yelling and screaming, and the volume is just too high most of the time. The danger quotient in this sequel was certainly ramped up, but the adventures seem to be less… adventuresome? There are two scenes that do stand out, however, one involving a rope bridge – those things are never safe in movies, are they? The other involves a race through underground mines in tiny carts; it’s like a roller coaster ride you’d never want to try yourself. Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom doesn’t quite rise to the heights achieved by Raiders of the Lost Ark, but then again, how could it top a classic?

Oscar Win: Best Visual Effects

Other Oscar Nomination: Best Original Score

Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

Raiders of the Lost Ark is two hours of genuine, glorious fun at the movies. Conceived by filmmakers and friends George Lucas and Steven Spielberg as an homage to those old serial films where the heroes were in danger after about twenty minutes so that there would be a cliffhanger to bring everyone back to the theaters next week, Raiders presents almost non-stop action, putting its hero, Indiana Jones (the great Harrison Ford in a role that would come to define him) in harm’s way almost every couple of minutes. Any movie that travels from Peru to the United States to Nepal to Egypt to Greece with this much flair and style is worthy of awards recognition. It’s as globe-trotting a movie as any James Bond film.

Ford’s portrayal of the now iconic archaeologist/adventurer is in the manner of a somewhat typical American hero, a product of his time. He consistently worries, it seems, more about himself than others, and he’s accustomed to taking things from others that he wants. There’s a glint in his eye when he sees something shiny, some beautiful artifact from the past that could be “saved” from whatever allegedly primitive tribe possesses it at the time. Ford brings the right mix of charm and bravado to the role. His Indiana Jones is sexy, even stylish, a bit too hot-headed for his own good, and yet (almost) always worthy of being cheered on.

The opening sequence of the film is justifiably famous. Jones is retrieving a golden idol – aren’t all such idols golden? – from Peru, but he has to face a series of obstacles to escape from the location where it has been sequestered. By the time he’s escaped multiple boobytraps and outrun a giant boulder, you know what kind of movie you’re in for. This sequence doesn’t really have much to do with the main plot, of course, but it does establish a style for the film overall. And it sets off what turns out to be a very action-packed sequence of events. Before film’s end, we’ll have witnessed a chase involving lots of large baskets, boats trying to outpace each other, a hazardous race involving a series of Nazi vehicles, even a sequence aboard a submarine.

Set in 1936, Raiders of the Lost Ark depicts attempts by the Americans and the Nazis to locate the Ark of the Covenant, which supposedly contains the Ten Commandments. It also reportedly contains great power for whomever possesses it, but you should know a maguffin when you see one. Yes, the Ark in the movie is truly golden and beautiful, quite a spectacular piece of design work, but it’s not really the object itself that makes us watch the film. We as viewers may be momentarily intrigued by this golden box, but the thrill of watching the film is from the chase, the search, not truly the finding. That the ark itself doesn’t really turn out to be quite what the Nazis thought it would be is even more delightful although watching it work its powers on them provides some pretty grisly moments.

Ford is solid and reliable here, a perfect fit from this type of leading man role, and he’s truly the star here. The film also features some memorable supporting performances, chief among them Karen Allen as Indy’s former flame, Marion. She’s tough, feisty, a match for almost anyone. She’s the daughter of Jones’ mentor, and when Jones arrives at her bar in Tibet, her trouble begins, but she demonstrates that’s she more than up to the task of an adventure herself. John Rhys-Davies plays Sallah, a reliable friend of Indiana Jones, and his presence in the film brings some nice comic moments. (The film actually has lots of very funny moments, but they’re almost all throwaways in service of the main adventure plot.) Paul Freeman plays the oily French archaeologist who’s in league with the Nazis. Even the great Alfred Molina shows up in the opening sequence in Peru. Alas, he doesn’t make it past the prologue, but you can see why he has had such a career in films just from his few moments of screen time.

I don’t want to give the impression that the only reason to see Raiders of the Lost Ark is its action sequences, but they are such an outstanding aspect of the film. I’m sure that’s what sold so many tickets. But the film is truly top-notch in all categories: cinematography, editing, art direction, costume design, visual effects, the stunt work (especially the stunt work), and on and on. Even the romantic original music by the legendary John Williams gifts us with an instantly recognizable motif for Indiana Jones in only seven memorable notes. Notice how many nominations it received in the technical categories, and how many wins it achieved in them too. The film takes us to such beautiful and exciting locations, and we are immersed in the world of the film even though it keeps shifting locales.

That being said, naturally, it’s the sense of adventure and excitement that bears repeated viewings. I’ve already mentioned Indy running from a boulder in the opening sequence, but the film has a lot of memorable moments, such as when he shoots a guy with a large saber just to save time in his quest to find the missing Marion. We find out about his fear of snakes in quite possibly the worst imaginable way. There’s a crazy sequence involving a fistfight with a big Nazi on top of and underneath and around an airplane that’s buzzing around waiting for takeoff. Even the film’s final shot does a wonderful job of showing us the depths of American bureaucracy in an amusing way. I also like some of the small moments, such as when a young woman in Dr. Jones’ archaeology class flirts with him by writing suggestive messages on her eyelids (and then a young male student leaves him an apple – a little provocative). Great movies tend to be filled with moments like these that can be discussed and dissected and, really, just warmly remembered.

By the way, as happened with the Star Wars films, the makers (or the distributors?) of Raiders of the Lost Ark have fallen prey to renaming the film now that several successful sequels have been released. However, a fan of the movie is never going to call it Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark just because the other movies in the series use his name first (Indiana Jones and the… whatever it is). To those who saw the film in its original release, it’s still going to be Raiders of the Lost Ark, just as it should be.

Oscar Wins: Best Art Direction-Set Decoration, Best Sound, Best Film Editing, Best Visual Effects, and Special Achievement Award in Sound Effects Editing

Other Oscar Nominations: Best Picture, Best Director, Best Cinematography, and Best Original Score