Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (The Karate Kid)

This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


THE KARATE KID

3 1/2 Wheels

Seeing The Karate Kid for the first time in many years put me in a nostalgic mood. Not just for my own teen years of the mid-eighties, but also for the first movie we ever reviewed here at Roll Film, Breaking Away. The two films have a number of similarities, the most pointed being that they both successfully borrow from the Rocky formula, which has inspired many more bad films than good. Check out our review of Rad for a much drearier take on the theme.

While Breaking Away focused on a bike race and The Karate Kid focuses on, well, karate, both showcased likable and believable teens. Neither film disappointed when it came to the big competition. Breaking Away may have had more visual flair, but The Karate Kid was directed by John Avildsen, the same guy who helmed the original Rocky, and he still knows how to film an underdog with a heart-of-gold story.

What sets The Karate Kid apart is its pitch-perfect casting. It's not that the cast is comprised of the greatest actors. It's more that they absolutely embody their character types. Though in his early twenties at the time, Ralph Macchio plays Daniel LaRusso as a normal young teen we can all recognize and identify with. Elisabeth Shue simply IS the girl next door. Her wholesome cuteness is so natural that I found myself unable to suspend disbelief while watching her performance as a street hooker in the otherwise effective, Leaving Las Vegas. Even William Zabka nailed the obligatory bully role to such an extent that he spent most of his film career stealing lunch money.

Best of all is, of course, Pat Morita as janitor/karate master, Mr. Miyagi, Daniel's teacher, mentor and friend. He takes what could easily have been a by-the-book role and adds unexpected depth. It's hard to believe that this was his only recognized performance of note, but that may be the result of Hollywood's lack of meaty roles for Asian-American actors. It's because of Morita and his kind, but stern humor that we remember "wax on, wax off." What I had not remembered, however, was the very touching scene where a drunk Miyagi mourns his dead wife. Morita is the soul of this film and his Oscar nomination was well deserved.

Another thing I had forgotten about The Karate Kid is that it's a bicycle movie. In fact, prior to his karate training, Daniel's bicycle is his primary means to assert himself. It shows up right at the beginning as he and his mother unpack after their move from New Jersey to L.A. In addition to providing a degree of independent mobility, Daniel's bike allows him to flee from his karate-trained tormentors. More importantly, it's the bullies' damage to Daniel's bike that sets up the first bond between Miyagi and his protégé.

While The Karate Kid is best known today as an eighties nostalgia item, it deserves kudos for proving that even the most commercial of formulas can seem fresh if interesting characters and performances take center stage.

Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (Beijing Bicycle)

This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


BEIJING BICYCLE

2 Wheels

In Beijing, there are traffic signals that flash green or red in the shape of a bicycle. This is only one of the signs that we're not in Kansas anymore. Bikes of all shapes and sizes fill the streets and alleyways. They share the streets with cars as equals. They are parked in racks by the hundreds. In terms of sheer quantity, Beijing Bicycle may be the ultimate bicycle movie.

What's good about Beijing Bicycle mostly occurs within the first half hour. Here we see a city both familiar and yet truly foreign. Overcrowded and bustling, it seems modern and ancient simultaneously. It's difficult to say if a Chinese audience would be as taken by director, Xiaoshuai Wang's, portrayal of their native land, but to these Western eyes, Beijing is the most interesting character in the film.

Unfortunately, at some point, after getting used to the exotic locale, we have to start following the film's goofy plot. Country boy, Guo, has just moved to the big city where he gets a job as a bike courier. He's a hard worker, but his initial wages are all set aside to pay for his company-provided bicycle. The bike is stolen and, by this time, the film has become a virtual remake of Vittorio De Sica's seminal classic, The Bicycle Thief.

The key difference between Beijing Bicycle and the earlier Italian film is that we follow the story of the thief as well. (Actually, it's left a bit ambiguous whether he's a real thief or not.) Jian is a middle class city kid who "acquires" Guo's bike to impress the local beauty, who has a thing for cyclists. These two guys, both in their late teens, start a battle of wills over this bicycle. Now here's the goofy part: much of the film is occupied with this bike changing hands about five or six times.

Beyond that, they're both none-too-bright and whiny. Jian throws tantrums because his parents seem to favor his younger sister, while Guo's strategy for laying claim to the bike is holding onto it and screaming. Meanwhile, the girl who's begun to occupy both their attentions falls in with a local punk who can do fancy bike tricks. With these three jokers going after her, it's surprising she doesn't ride her bike off to another province.

Since Beijing Bicycle wants to be The Bicycle Thief, it's instructive to note how the latter succeeds where the former fails. In The Bicycle Thief, there is a true sense of urgency as the protagonist cares for his wife and son. The stolen bike is a real catastrophe that could mean starvation for him and his family. In Beijing Bicycle, the stolen bike represents a loss, but the stakes are lower. Guo's courier job is important to him, but it's not his only option, and the bike will only get Jian so far in his love life.

Despite all this, Beijing Bicycle is not unwatchable. It's just flatfooted and The Bicycle Thief allusions are so blatant that you may as well skip the middle man and see the original instead.

Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (Life is Beautiful)

This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL

3 Wheels

It would be a gross misrepresentation to refer to Life is Beautiful as a "Holocaust comedy." We may be asked to laugh at the antics of its protagonist, but the Holocaust is never made light of or trivialized. It is, however, a backdrop to some broad character humor that usually works, but not always. Even before the film's setting moves to a concentration camp, a sense of discomfort pervades.

Life is Beautiful is an Italian film by writer/director/actor, Roberto Benigni, told in two parts. The first half is a giddy romance with Benigni playing the boisterous Guido, who embraces life with such gusto that every moment is an opportunity for humor and theatrics. Guido falls in love with Dora the schoolteacher and wins her heart through romantic comedy stalking. You know: the kind of behavior that always gets the girl in movies, but would lead to a restraining order in real life.

It is in this setting of pre-war idealism that bicycles are prominently featured and come to represent an innocence soon to be lost. One of a series of "accidental" meetings between Guido and Dora takes the shape of a small bike collision. Years later, after the two are married and have a son, all three are seen happily riding through the Italian city streets.

The second half takes a dark turn when Guido (who is Jewish) and his family are sent to a Nazi concentration camp. Here Guido attempts to use his gift of humor and passion for life to provide his 5-year-old son the hope to survive in this hopeless environment. He convinces the boy that it is all a game and that he is actually in a contest to win a tank if he can hide long enough.

Benigni's influence for Life is Beautiful was most likely Charlie Chaplin's The Great Dictator. Chaplin's first talkie had him playing both a Hitler-like buffoon and a Jewish barber facing persecution. It's similar in style, and Benigni's humor can be described as Chaplinesque; however, The Great Dictator had the advantage of being released in 1940, at a time when the true extent of the Holocaust was not yet known. In any case, Benigni is no Chaplin--but who is?

Schindler's List and The Pianist provide such vivid reminders of the horrors of the Holocaust that the concentration camp in Life is Beautiful seems watered down for the purposes of preserving some of the film's more fanciful conceits. This is an understandable decision that allows both comedy and pathos to exist side by side, but such a laser focus on Guido and his family sidesteps the fate of their fellow prisoners.

Benigni has made a film close to his heart and it succeeds on its own terms. Intentions count in this case because if the tone were just a bit off, the whole film could have ended up as an exercise in bad taste. Benigni is like a tightrope walker trying to balance his life-affirming vision with real life atrocities, all without crossing lines of sensitivity. We see him stumble a few times, but he never falls off the rope.

Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (Go Further)

This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


GO FURTHER

1 1/2 Wheels

There was a time when documentaries were predominantly made by third-party filmmakers in order to investigate a subject. They would not be without bias, but the main goal of the films tended to be journalistic or observational. The current trend is to use documentaries solely as advocacy tools, which has the unfortunate result that the worst of them appear to be feature length commercials.

Go Further falls into the latter category as it was clearly made in conjunction with the subjects themselves. Those subjects include actor Woody Harrelson and a variety of employees and friends traveling by bus and bike from Seattle to Los Angeles on a college speaking tour to promote a staggering number of causes, all under the banner, "Simple Organic Living."

In addition to promoting bike riding, our gang of modern day hippies also sings the praises of yoga, vegetarianism, organic foods, alternate fuel sources, conservation, antilogging campaigns, hemp manufacturing and saving the world. The main weakness of the film and Harrelson's efforts is that they are so wide ranging that we never have time to really look at any particular issue in detail.

I'd argue that enjoyment of a film like this should not depend on whether the viewer agrees with its messages or not. Super Size Me is a recent example of advocacy filmmaking done well, whether you've sworn off Big Macs or not. Since Go Further is basically about modern day hippies, it had me fondly remembering the 1970 film, Woodstock, not only one of the best documentaries ever made, but a much more insightful look at hippie culture and causes.

The only time Go Further deviates from simply patting Harrelson and company on the back is when one of the group crosses the line from lovable radicalism to downright offensiveness by hanging an American flag upside-down on his bike. The filmmakers seemed to sense this was a step too far, so they allowed an observer to make the case that such an incendiary image would distance people from their cause.

Harrelson himself is well spoken, but his role in the film is basically limited to offering little bits of eco-wisdom and being followed around like a Woodstock-nation Yoda. Throughout much of the film, we are focusing on TV production assistant Steve Clark, whose claim to be converted from junk food addict to organic poster boy seems somewhat contrived. We are also treated to a number of musical interludes from the likes of Natalie Merchant and Dave Matthews, which while pleasant enough, really add nothing to the film.

Harrelson and company do quite a bit of bike riding during the course of the film. They claim to be riding the whole way, but they actually seem to spend a lot of time on the bus.

At only an hour and 15 minutes, Go Further is too short to be painful, but it just doesn't accomplish any of what it sets out to do. Yes, saving the world is a tall order, but you know you're in trouble when you're reduced to preaching on a megaphone at a herd of cows. (No kidding. This actually happens.)

Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (The Bicycle Thief)

This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


THE BICYCLE THIEF

3 1/2 Wheels

There's something magical and otherworldly about classic films made before the 1950s. This is true even of serious dramas like Gone With the Wind, Citizen Kane and The Grapes of Wrath. Actors were larger than life and what filled the screen, while possibly based on a true story, certainly did not take place in the real world. Today's dramas may embrace that cinematic heritage (Brokeback Mountain) or may just as likely appear to take place in a more naturalistic setting (Syriana).

Two films revolutionized how real movies could be. One was 1951's A Streetcar Named Desire in which Marlon Brando's method acting changed forever how film actors would approach their craft. A quick comparison of Jimmy Stewart to Robert DeNiro, while revealing greatness in both, shows two completely incompatible styles. The other film was 1948's The Bicycle Thief, which introduced Italian neorealism to the world.

Neorealism, as a film style, was characterized by shooting on actual locations instead of film sets, using non-actors instead of stars, and portraying poverty and strife in a gritty non-Hollywood manner. The movement was spearheaded in Italy in the wake of World War II when the country was struggling to get back on its feet after its disastrous period of fascism. Vitorrio De Sica's The Bicycle Thief is not the first film in the new genre, but remains the definitive one.

In 1940s post-war Italy, poverty was rampant, and sometimes a bicycle could be the only thing standing between a worker and unemployment, meaning starvation for his family. Against this backdrop we meet Antonio whose new job as a poster hanger requires that he own a bike, which he invests the last of his savings to buy. After the bicycle is stolen, we follow Antonio and his young son, Bruno, through the streets of Rome as he seeks to recover his livelihood. Antonio and Bruno are portrayed by two non-actors, but their naturalism allows for genuine emotion as the father struggles to connect with his son, while facing the moral implications of poverty and crime.

There was a time when critics considered The Bicycle Thief one of the greatest, if not the greatest film ever made. Certainly its historical significance cannot be overemphasized, but it's very low-key and may not quite live up to its reputation for modern audiences. The Bicycle Thief is a classic, though not necessarily a timeless one. While still a visually arresting and memorable portrayal of a father-son relationship, it's no longer a shock to see poverty portrayed in such a frank manner. Fifty years of influences on other films have slightly diminished the power of the original.

De Sica's achievement remains a vital turning point in the history of film, but it's also the originator of a sub-genre of bicycle movies. Films like Il Postino, Beijing Bicycle and City of God all portray the bicycle as a key means of survival in impoverished societies, and they all owe a debt to The Bicycle Thief.

Archive '06 - Bicycle Review (Rent)

This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


RENT

4 Wheels

The main challenge facing any adaptation of a Broadway musical is how to visually open it up so it stands independently as a movie and not just a filmed version of a stage performance. While 2003's Oscar winner, Chicago, solved the problem by having its musical numbers take place in the mind of the main character, Rent takes a more traditional approach and literally replaces the stage with dynamic New York City locations. In this sense, it's more reminiscent of classic musicals like West Side Story than more recent adaptations.

One technique used to open up the film is to establish one of the main characters as an avid bike rider. This is Mark Cohen: filmmaker, idealist, and broke. He sings the first verse of the title song while riding, and his bike, both parked and moving, is seen a number of times throughout. We learn that the bicycle is core to the Bohemian lifestyle in this lyric from the rousing number "La Vie Boheme," which toasts all that's dear to these alternative Generation Xers: "To riding your bike everyday past the three-piece suits."

Another lyric in the same song sums up the show's theme: "To living with, not dying from, disease." Rent is an ensemble piece that follows Mark and his friends—some of whom are gay, some HIV positive (not necessarily the same ones); many are artists of varying mediums and talents; and, most importantly, all are fully developed and we care deeply about them. While AIDS is a specter hanging over the characters, most of the film is joyful and life affirming. I detest the cliché, "You'll laugh! You'll cry!" but damned if this time the label doesn't fit.

The songs are simply wonderful. Rent, loosely based on the Puccini opera, La Boheme, is both the debut and master work of Jonathon Larson who died tragically, at the age of 35, hours before the play's premiere in 1996. It has since hailed as one of the great musicals of the '90s. Just as Hair has come to evoke '60s youth culture, Rent can be looked at as a summation of its times.

Most of the Broadway cast returns for the film and so perfectly embodies their roles that I can easily overlook the criticism that they are too old for their parts. When rumors of a Rent film first began circulating, it was suggested that either Martin Scorsese or Spike Lee might be tapped to direct. I was skeptical when I first heard Chris Columbus was chosen. Despite his skill in launching the Harry Potter series, I couldn't picture the director of Home Alone and Mrs. Doubtfire doing justice to this gritty urban musical.

From the stirring opening moments, it was clear that Columbus proved me wrong. His take on Rent may not have been as gritty as Scorsese or Lee's versions, but he successfully made the musical his own. Yes, he had superior source material, but that didn't stop Joel Schumacher from ruining last year's Phantom of the Opera. Rent is the first of the contemporary wave of musicals that deserves comparisons to the classics.

Archive '05 - Bicycle Review (Rushmore)

This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.


RUSHMORE

2 1/2 Wheels

Rushmore would seem to be exactly the sort of film that would appeal to me. It's a stylized and ironic comedy that intelligently addresses multilayered themes. Director Wes Anderson shows the visual and narrative flair of an original artist, not content to spew out typical Hollywood product. It also marks the moment when the great comic actor, Bill Murray, finally proved himself to be a great actor. The film seemed so good on paper, but the end product never comes alive.

Perhaps my problem is in the casting of its lead. Jason Schwartzman plays Max Fischer, a high school student at the prestigious Rushmore Academy who has taken on leadership roles in so many extracurricular activities that he barely has time to go to class. Max is a character utterly convinced of his own genius. His ego is such that he is shocked when his affections toward a grade school teacher are not returned. He's also socially awkward and has many attributes of the typical movie nerd.

Max is a complex character whom the filmmakers clearly relate to, but Schwartzman is not a good enough actor to show this depth. His performance isn't bad, but it is alienating. He somehow needed to project both arrogance and vulnerability, while still allowing the audience to relate to him. Instead Max often comes across as simply obnoxious.

Bill Murray gives a much more nuanced performance as Herman Blume, a millionaire alumnus of Rushmore whose wealth has not bought happiness. Blume and Max become unlikely friends, mostly because each sees a mirror image of himself in the other. Rushmore marks the first film in which Murray embraced middle age and began a phase in his career that culminated with his acclaimed performance in Lost in Translation.

The friendship is short-lived as Max and Blume find they've both fallen for the same lovely teacher. Neither takes this competition well, but it does lead to the most wickedly funny sequence in the film. As The Who's mini-opera "A Quick One While He's Away" takes over the soundtrack, Max attacks Blume with—a hive of bees! Blume retaliates by running over Max's beloved bicycle with his car. While hard on the bike, this actually makes for one memorable bicycle moment.

To be fair, Rushmore does have a cult following and I understand why. Wes Anderson has such a strong directorial signature that individual scenes seem to work even when the film as a whole does not. While Rushmore introduces intriguing themes, it does so in the context of dull plotting.
One area Anderson excels in, however, is his impeccable use of rock music, which matches his deadpan visuals so well.

Anderson's debut, Bottle Rocket, and his recent, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, both suffer from the same inconsistencies as Rushmore. Only 2001's The Royal Tenenbaums shows him reaching full potential as all his gifts and a wonderful cast finally come together for one of the sharpest and funniest films of the last decade. If you want to see what a great film Rushmore might have been, rent The Royal Tenenbaums.