Dog Day Afternoon

Few other directors are as adept as Sidney Lumet at tailoring their style to the unique qualities of a story. Kubrick, Scorsese, Spielberg, the Coens - many of the greatest directors of all time have a style to their films that make them all but unmistakable. Lumet's distinction lies in his ability to adapt to the material. Dog Day Afternoon is a great example of this. Taking into account the fact that he was working with a story based on real events Lumet employed a relatively slow pacing - approximating the feel of real time - and - with the exception of the opening sequence - chose to do without a musical score. Of course, those are just two of several considerations made with the goal of realism in mind.

Despite these commitments to realism Dog Day Afternoon manages to touch on many of the pressing social issues of 1970's America. In fact, it is because of this commitment to realism that the film achieves such a deeply insightful portrait of that time in our history. The characters' lives are faithful manifestations of a society challenged by Vietnam, myriad misuses and abuses of authority, women's lib, and gay rights - to name a few. I never felt as if I was being preached to. No one issue was singled out as the source of conflict.

In my opinion, when it comes to storytelling, the "ends" cannot justify the "means." It just doesn't work that way. The "means" are EVERYTHING. In this respect, Dog Day Afternoon is cinematic storytelling at its best.

Saturday Night Fever

I had spent most of the semester preparing myself to be open minded about this screening. Generally speaking, I am no fan of disco. I am - however - a music fan and - as a music fan - I have done a lot of thinking about what it means to really like a certain piece of music. Among the many, many reasons that I might list for why I like the music that I like, whether or not it moves me to dance would rank rather low in the order of important criteria. However, I have learned to recognize the importance of "danceability" in an objective evaluation of a given song, and so an objective theory about why people like music in general must allow for some explanation for why people dance. Aside from the various social issues that may either inhibit or promote the impetus for dance there must be something about the nature of music that facilitates a corresponding behavior. By way of this hopelessly muddled discourse I have managed to determine for myself that any song which moves a person to dance - whether or not I myself share that motivation - is worthy of my honest appreciation. I may not like a song enough to dance to it, but if someone else does then there must be something to it. At least that's what I kept telling myself as I sat down to watch Saturday Night Fever with an open mind.

I'm not sure what I expected from Saturday Night Fever. The film has more or less been a distant blip on my radar for most of my life. It is impossible to hear the song "Stayin' Alive" without obvious associations. I suppose I expected not much more than the brothers Gibb. Of course, other images which have been widely stamped on the public consciousness include John Travolta's strut and a multicolored, light-up dance floor. All of this seemed rather thin fare for someone with a professional interest in filmmaking as a serious storytelling medium.

But what's this?? There are characters here... no... not just characters... maybe the most unique characters we have seen this semester - true blue collar folk - brimming with passion - full of life - certainly among the most charmingly stupid bunch of people ever committed to film. The plot may be needlessly over dramatic, but at least the characters are interesting. We ought to recognize the filmmakers' challenge in tacking characters that are so easy to dislike - people so reminiscent of my least favorite classmates from high school.

I can't help empathizing with Tony Manero (John Travolta). We get just enough insight into Tony's environment and upbringing that his unforgivably infuriating behavior feels poignantly frustrating and his hopelessly vapid behavior feels surprisingly endearing. As much as I dread the idea of a disco club I can actually share in Tony's glory on the dance floor. That glory is one of Tony's few hopes for the future - and thank goodness he is beginning to recognize the need for changing the present course of his life. Each time Tony sidesteps Annette's sexual advances - how easy it would have been for him to take advantage - I am heartened by his continued divergence from the downward spiral that grips his peers. Essentially, Saturday Night Fever is a coming of age story set in a world where everyone gets older but too few people ever manage to grow up. I am glad that I approached it with an open mind because - and I can't believe I'm saying this - here is a movie with the potential to enrich the mind - if you can manage to slog through the heaping mounds of pop culture induced misconceptions. Few films are so subtly clever.

Shaft

On one hand Shaft was everything that I expected, with respect to the fact that the film was very entertaining despite certain questionable production values. On the other hand, Shaft offers a great deal more than I expected. These are extremely interesting characters - caricatures perhaps - but nonetheless, fully fleshed and true to themselves. Another way to put it: these characters do things that are delightfully surprising yet make complete sense within the alternate reality that is Shaft. Perhaps the best example of what I am talking about is the scene in which John Shaft sits down for his first face to face meeting with Bumpy Jonas. I think few people expect Bumpy - who has already sent two of this thugs to manhandle our hero - to be so accommodating and eventually breakdown and cry. However, the behavior rings true once we discover Bumpy's genuine, paternal concern for his kidnapped daughter.