FilmJerk Favorites

A group of unique directors and the essential works that you've got to see.

||| Norman Jewison |||
Norman Jewison

Yes, he directed “Moonstruck” and two unforgettable musicals, but Jewison is also responsible for a trilogy of films focusing on racial-injustice, a whacky Cold War comedy and a signature film of Steve McQueen’s showing that he is one of the most versatile directors since Robert Wise.

This blueprint for good investigation dramas tells the story of a black Philadelphia detective investigating a murder in Mississippi who matches wits with a redneck sheriff. Groundbreaking for it’s time, this Oscar winning film is still relevant today and offers a gripping mystery with terrific dramatic performances by a complete cast of fully realized characters.

This is an amazingly funny and entertaining irreverent "Cold War" comedy about a Russian submarine stranded outside an isolated New England town, which throws the locals into a panic. Jewison does a delightful job of utilizing his all-star cast to their fullest, deftly mixing Capra-esq characters with Mel Brooks’s type situations (and vise-versa).

A bored millionaire (Steve McQueen in his prime) masterminds a flawless bank job as Faye Dunaway (an insurance investigator out to get him) identifies him as the mastermind and falls in love along the way. This is the original and the best, with all the arch stylized movie techniques of the ‘60s (including split-screen and fuzzy shallow focus) and the most erotic chess game ever captured on screen.

Recommended by CarrieSpecht

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In the Land of Women

By BrianOrndorf

April 20th, 2007

If first-time director Jon Kasdan (son of Lawrence, brother to Jake) had something more thematically devastating in mind when he wrote "In the Land of Women," you'd never know it from the final product.

In the Land of Women

Dumped by his model girlfriend, L.A. softcore porn screenwriter Carter (Adam Brody, “The O.C.”) desires a change of pace. After traveling to Michigan to take care of his grandmother (Olympia Dukakis), Carter becomes intrigued with his neighbor Sarah (Meg Ryan), a soft-spoken woman beginning her battle with breast cancer. As the two find a connection, Sarah’s teenage daughter Lucy (Kristin Stewart) finds herself attracted to Carter’s attention as well, confusing the young man and complicating his relationships with the many women in his life.

At its best, “Women” patiently examines the fierce yearnings of the heart and how stunted communication seems to block our best intentions. Kasdan is looking to dramatize a series of relationships that come alive through personal expression, and those fleeting moments of confession and pining are gifts the writer side of Kasdan shares with the rest of his family.

“Women” means well, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t occasionally touch me. The tentative friendship between Carter and Sarah captures a soft romantic essence and calm sexual neutrality that the picture seems in short supply of. When the relationship takes a turn toward desire, Kasdan doesn’t bungle the tonal switch, instead deepening Sarah’s struggle of conscience (the exhilaration of newfound attraction vs. the reality of sickness) and Carter’s primal feminine gravitational pull. If only the picture shared more moments between them.

Unfortunately, “Women” ends up with a glossy production polish reminiscent of a CW pilot that doesn’t have a prayer to make it to series. Outside of the few pillars of emotional truth, the rest of the picture is dogged by lame stabs at comedy, forced turns of drama, and too many characters for Kasdan to tend to. Sarah’s cheating spouse is the most obvious casualty of Kasdan’s focus issues. Initially presented as one of Sarah’s catalysts for her interest in Carter’s attention, the character is all but forgotten by the end of the film. Troubling, when you consider how much of the story included his participation.

I also wasn’t thrilled with Kasdan’s reliance on Brody’s third-grade smart aleck routine to save him from actual scripted moments of levity. Brody needs a lot more discipline in his acting to ever be considered a leading man; his comfort on camera is appealing, but there’s no depth behind the bowling alley lounge retorts and smirks, a quality exacerbated when put onscreen with more talented co-stars.

Perhaps it’s mean-spirited to bring up certain cosmetic changes Meg Ryan has recently undergone to reverse the aging process. Really, it’s none of my business. However, when said surgery blocks important dramatic cues, how can I keep quiet? Ryan gives one of her best performances as Sarah; a withdrawn suburban ice queen only now, in the face of death, realizing the toxicity of her distance. There’s a lot of pain bubbling under the surface of the character, but no way out. Ryan longs and tears, but it’s hard to see that expressed on her face. I’m possibly overstepping a line suggesting the botox-fueled eradication of Ryan’s theatrical faculties, but you see the film and tell me. Am I wrong to say that Ryan has robbed herself of the actor’s lone best friend, expression?

My rating: C+