Viktor Figeczki

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First of all, let me make it clear that, yes, this comparison will centre on ‘North by Northwest’ (1959) and ‘The Matrix’ (1999), and, no, I haven’t inadvertently left the caps off about 25 markers on my desk and succumbed to the fumes. These two films do actually have some common ground.

For example, try to guess which film I am describing in the following paragraph:

Featuring a leading man universally considered swoon-worthy by the fairer sex, this movie is a big-budget extravaganza boasting an accomplished cast. The plot centres on an ordinary Joe Blow, who gets mixed up in dangerous intrigue and finds himself in over his head before rising to the occasion. His nemesis, the villain, is calm, gentlemanly and speaks with a highly distinguishable dialect that secretes malice, and the action sequences have etched themselves into popular culture thanks to some original and spectacularly iconic images.

To be honest, I’m not sure which movie that is, either. Everyone remembers the slow-motion dodging of bullets in ‘The Matrix’. Equally unforgettable is the lone man, on foot, being chased by a crop-duster in ‘Northwest’. Or the “cliffhanger” on the faces of the US presidents carved into Mt. Rushmore. Cinematic history, all.

But enough about the similarities between the two movies. The aim of this post is to determine what sets them apart.

‘(Name withheld)’ takes the early lead. Why? It is simply a more believable concept. The opposition film relies on a premise that is, to put it mildly, unlikely to occur. It appears to be a mere excuse to generate the subsequent action and suspense, and the audience is asked to take a mighty big leap by accepting it.

This is by no means an indictment of the film, though, because the exhilarating pace sweeps the viewer along and makes said suspension of disbelief easier than it has any right to be - I am simply saying that the premise does not stand up well to logical inquiries.

Of course, the core concept of ‘(name withheld)’ is not without its flaws, either. Few films are. But it does appear less of a desperate script-writer’s tool and more of a valid platform for the story.

The second point of judgement centres on the plausibility of the unfolding events. In this, ‘Northwest’ and ‘The Matrix’ are a lot closer, both only about 50% logic-proof. Where they lose points are in the occasional employment of cliches. ‘The Matrix’, for example, sees one of the good guys, thought to be assassinated by a traitor, recover just enough to save leading man and alleged actor Keanu Reeves plus love-interest Carrie-Anne Moss from being murdered by the traitor.

What piece of plotular profanity does ‘Northwest’ provide? Well, its leading man, Cary Grant, pulls the knife out of a murder-victim just as a photographer takes a highly inopportune snap. Even in 1959, such inadvertent self-incrimination were already old hat.

'(Name withheld)' suffers a narrow loss in this category, too.

So, considering the criticisms that can be aimed at both movies, what is it exactly that makes them such classics? Well, both have X-factor up the wazoo.

Their narratives capture any viewer in an enjoyable maelstrom. One is an action-packed visual adrenalin-ride, and the other is a stylish adventure set in an era that, through nostalgia-goggles, appears more noble, innocent and desirable than contemporary times.

Furthermore, both employ insanely charismatic baddies. Hugo Weaving’s linguistically pedantic “Mr Smith” and James Mason’s “Vandamm” are both ominous in their refinement and steal every scene that features them (a particularly commendable feat when one is acting opposite Eva Marie Saint).

I could talk about the movies’ respective X-factors all day, so I won’t.

Before I reveal my personal winner of this final discipline, however, let me reveal the title of the film previously referred to as '(name withheld)': ‘The Matrix’.

It won the concept discipline because, within the rules of its own universe, it simply made more sense. ‘Northwest’ was supposedly set in a realistic 1959, but, let’s be honest, how many professional spies and experienced henchman would have have gotten their target - a government agent - mixed up with an advertising executive? The arrogance and toxic slime excreting from the very pores of any advertising-man is a dead giveaway. The fact is that the entire plot-structure of ‘Northwest’ is supported by a rather flimsy foundation.

‘The Matrix’, on the other hand, can trace its origins back to a philosophical conclusion by the renowned French thinker Rene Descartes, who said (and I am paraphrasing) that the only think we can be certain of is that we exist - because to believe that, or doubt it, we must exist to form the thought in the first place. Everything else, however, could be a dream, a figment of our imaginations, a hallucination, or - as illustrated by ‘The Matrix’ - a deception of our senses by some malevolent force.

The first time I saw ‘The Matrix’ (which was not at a cinema, incidentally - the over-the-top action sequences shown in the trailer turned me off), I was floored by the logical explanation of why the protagonists were able to dodge bullets and perform various other superhuman feats. Within the movie’s universe, it simply made sense.

As the plot of ‘The Matrix’ unfolds, however, a few holes do appear. For example, surely the sentient machines could conjure up more efficient sources of energy than living beings. And if not, why not simply use animals, which would require a less complicated matrix?

To be fair, though, ‘Northwest’ has plenty of flaws, too, in this regard. In fact, it has more. Why send a crop-duster to kill a man waiting in the middle of nowhere? Why not simply drive up to him in a car and pop him? And going back further, why not pour enough alcohol into a man selected for suicide whilst operating heavy machinery to make sure that he won’t be capable of operating said heavy machinery? The list of “oversights”, sadly, goes on.

What does this mean? Well, ‘The Matrix’ has secured two categories out of three, so, mathematically, ‘North By Northwest’ cannot win this match-up.

And yet it does.

For the first time, I am left with no choice but to concede to the overwhelming appeal of a film’s X-factor. Yes, ‘The Matrix’ wins two categories, but only one of them by a significant margin. And the final category just appears to have so much more weight than the previous two. Perhaps, like a fine wine, ‘The Matrix’ will increase its already impressive appeal over time. Perhaps (due to the sequels that diluted the integrity of ‘The Matrix’, like the silly ‘Rocky’ sequels) it won’t. All I know is that, right this minute, the best way to gauge the truly superior of two movies is by asking this; which would you prefer to watch for the umpteenth time?

And the answer to that, in my case, ... is ‘North By Northwest’.


- Victor Figeczki






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Welcome, fellow critiquers of cinema.

Tonight’s debate will decide the relative merits of two of Hollywood’s most decorated dramatic comedies.

Arguing the case of antiquated allegories everywhere, a film starring the blue-blooded Katherine Hepburn, the blue-collar James “Jimmy” Stewart and a man needing no adjectives, Cary Grant; 1940’s ‘The Philadelphia Story’.

Pleading the case of modern movies, a concoction directed by James “Hell” Brooks and featuring the blue-eyed Greg Kinnear, the imperfectly perfect Helen Hunt and, last but not least, a somewhat de-smirked Jack Nicholson; 1997’s ‘As Good As It Gets’.

‘Philly’ tells the story of Tracy (Hepburn), a socialite about to get married to second husband, George (John Howard). Mike (Stewart), a reporter for the gossip-rag ‘Spy’, covers the preparations, and first husband Dexter (Grant) is also conveniently in the mix.

‘As Good’, meanwhile, traces the dynamics between a reclusive and obsessive-compulsive writer, Melvin (Nicholson), his homosexual neighbour, Simon (Kinnear), and the waitress, Carol (Hunt), who struggles to care for her sickly son and also punctually serve the cantankerous Melvin at the only restaurant he frequents. When Simon is viciously attacked and robbed in his own home, Melvin (by default and duress) becomes the carer of Simon’s pooch during its owner’s recovery. The assault facilitates a web of favours and counter-favours that ultimately lead to a life-altering weekend away for the two men and the waitress.

Right, let’s get down to business.

First, the similarities: Statistically speaking, the two films are evenly matched. Both bagged two Academy Awards, ‘Philly’ scoring a total of six nominations and ‘As Good’ notching up seven. At closer inspection, it can be said that both contain comedic elements as well as dramatic depth, dual ambitions that have seen many a movie position itself between two chairs. These examples, however, have the meaty derrieres to successfully span the genres.

In my last post, I spoke of a classic that seemed somewhat “neutered” by censorship, ‘The Maltese Falcon’. This week’s offering, ‘The Philadelphia Story’, can also thank its form to those carrot-carrying centurions of morality. Stories of divorce, which were popular in the 1930s and ‘40s, came into being because extramarital affairs could not be shown on screen. A permanent or temporary breakdown in marriage was a common way of dodging decorum.

In this instance, the trick has produced a clever comedy of the screwball variety. The introduction of a headstrong woman to three eligible men leaves the viewer wondering whether Tracy will choose Bachelor A, B or C. The premise also creates room to superficially explore socio-economic barriers, the happiness vs wealth debate and the intrusive nature of the paparazzi, a topic as relevant today as ever (think “Leave Britney alone!”).

What can ‘As Good As It Gets’ offer? Well, at a glance, not much. Apart from the disturbing attack on Simon (carried out by bisexual male prostitutes in an unnecessarily brutal manner that raises questions about their psychology), there is little synopsis-worthy material to capture the interest of potential viewers. Man stays at home. Man ritually locks and unlocks his door three times in succession. Man goes to restaurant where waitress waits on customers. Waitress waits on sickly son. Hmmm ... Advantage: The representative of the classics.

Luckily, the Oscar-nominated screenplay, written by James L. Brooks and Mark Andrus, comes to the rescue of ‘As Good’. The story is subtle and poignant, well worthy of the slew of awards it occasioned. The events are a mix of conceivable callousness with uplifting gestures that never descend into sentimental potpourri. The nett result is both unique and satisfying.

Conversely, ‘Philly’ is far more conventional. Technically a love-quadrangle, husband-to-be George is quickly eliminated from the competition (in the mind of any viewer with an IQ greater than his/her shoe-size, at least). There are predictable surprises aplenty, and while the film does offer snappy dialogue and fortune-cookie wisdom (Tracy on marriage: “I thought it was for life, but the nice judge gave me a full pardon.”), the emphasis is on comedy over drama. It is entertainment on a high level, but, unlike ‘As Good As It Gets’, ‘Philly’ never ascends to parable-like profundity.

So, after two rounds, it is one victory apiece. The competition is to be decided by the X-factor of each movie, it seems.

Firstly, ‘Philly’ can be lauded for its bubbly one-liners. The dialogue is fast and witty, making the movie feel fresh more than half a century after its creation. Paradoxically, its age and late stars add elements of nostalgia and a sense that this production is something special that can never be recreated. The pairing of Hepburn, Grant and Stewart with a powderkeg of a script was always going to be a potent combination.

Of course, ‘As Good’ is not exactly short on X-factor, either. Jack Nicholson’s aura and copyrighted smirk can hold their own against the personalities of past giants. And while neither Greg Kinnear nor Helen Hunt are likely to warrant busts in the thespians’ Hall of Fame, they are both talented actors who do their best work when not directly in the spotlight but supporting a living, breathing institution like Nicholson. Hunt’s depiction of a struggling single mother rightly won her a certain golden statuette.

Additionally, ‘As Good’ has this trump card; it contains the most romantic line ever spoken on screen - when Melvin, rather circuitously, explains to Carol that she makes him “want to be a better man”. The sentiment obviously loses something in the translation from movie to review (plus the context of the statement, which I shall not reveal here, plays an important role), but trust me when I say that this nugget alone makes the audience’s time worthwhile.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of this comparison. I’m a lazy, lazy man in some ways, and deciding which film has the superior X-factor is simply too arduous a task ... which means that, for the first time in the glorious history of Filmtastic’s ‘Old vs New’, we have a distasteful tie on our hands.

But don’t blame me or my laziness - blame those dastardly makers of these wonderful movies, one no more spectacular than the other. They cram them full of accomplished stars and humorous repartees and memorable, moving moments, until we can no longer tell which sparkles brighter. Scarlett Johansson or Jessica Alba? Hendrix or Led Zeppelin? Hamburgers or pizza? The choice is maddening.

I refuse to make it.

- Victor Figeczki


Next: ‘North by Northwest’ vs ‘The Matrix’.

(And, no, that’s not a misprint - in case you were wondering).

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This week, representing the black-and-white era, a story first conceived by Dashiell Hammett and, in this instance, starring the epitome of pre-war cool, Humphrey Bogart, plus the epitome of pre-war slime, Peter Lorre, and a leaky-eyed Mary Astor; 1941’s immortal ‘The Maltese Falcon’.

And the champion of the contemporary? A movie initially deemed unworthy of cinematic release, directed by John Dahl and starring a sultry Linda Fiorentino, the prodigal Peter Berg and the lovable loser (may the Schwartz be with him) Bill Pullman; 1994’s ‘The Last Seduction’.

Why these two films? Because they loosely bookend the history of femme fatales, starting with Brigid and ending with Bridget. Okay, so ‘The Maltese Falcon’ of 1941 vintage is a re-thread of a movie made a decade prior, but the John Huston-directed later version is considered a definitive example of film noir. ‘The Last Seduction’, on the other hand, is a spectacular specimen of neo-noir, giving the femme fatale a new, legitimate lease on life.

Down to business, then. Both the birdie and the seduction are stylish thrillers, and both shy away from using mindless action as a crutch. Most importantly, perhaps, both create curiosity in the viewer to discover where the narrative is heading.

And there the similarities end. Huston’s creation was made, in part, because the original adaptation was finding it difficult to break through censorship barriers and a version that toed the line more closely was needed. Dahl’s creation, in contrast, makes its mark by breaking all the rules. If features unpredictability and a F.U. attitude towards cinematic and cultural norms. If you like your femme fatales all teary-eyed and pretend-vulnerable, ‘The Maltese Falcon’ is the go. If you prefer them strong and as unstoppable as a rugby front-rower, ‘The Last Seduction’ is probably your cup of tea.

In choosing which film is the superior, we might start by looking at the cleverness of the concept in each case - i.e. the basic premise. The old school representative has a convoluted story that centres around a jewel-encrusted artifact known as the Maltese Falcon. Needless to say, instead of simply playing a few peaceful rounds of paper-rock-scissor, people get bumped off in the process of determining with whom the falcon belongs. As the film-police might say; “Nothing to see here, folks. Move along ...”.

‘The Last Seduction’ doesn’t fare much better. Fiorentino plays Bridget Gregory, who steals a large sum of money from her husband (originally obtained in his virginal foray into the dope dealing enterprise) and flees to Anytown, USA. There she meets naive Peter Berg and manipulates him into participating in all sorts of morally unsavoury activities, the last of which is the (possible) murder of her former husband - who has sent some large men with a penchant for persuasion to retrieve the money.

Okay, so what we have here is a jewellery-encrusted statue versus cold, hard cash. One looks good on a mantelpiece, but the other is a widely accepted tender in department stores. It’s a draw, I guess.

Moving on, we get to the plot and its plausibility (or lack thereof).

Like most gumshoe detective stories, the falcon features lots of twists and turns, in between lies and lust. Plausible? Hardly. Entertaining in the I-wonder-where-this-is-going manner of an Agatha Christie novel? Sure. The problem, however, is that, at the end, you’re left with a sensation that the whole sordid mess could have been resolved a lot sooner if some of the characters had possessed just a tad more intelligence. Drama for the sake of drama is a bit like potato chips dipped in mashed potatoes - too much of a good thing.

The plot of ‘Seduction’, by contrast, is a cavalcade of interesting, plausible details. For example, the way Bridget deals with her husband’s private investigator is pure Machievalian magnificence. Admittedly, not every event furthers the plot (Bridget’s business-venture - selling the murder of cheating husbands to their scorned wives - goes largely nowhere in the greater scheme of things), but even such superfluous saturnalia only enhances the overall enjoyment.

And by the way, if anyone thinks that the extravagant events of ‘Seduction’ could never happen in real life, I suggest you chew on this little tidbit; two years after the release of ‘the film, former stripper Mechele Linehan supposedly followed its plot in the slaying of her fiance, Kent Leppink, in Alaska. If nothing else, this sort of stuff adds instant credibility to a movie, as the Coen brothers and a certain “true story” cult classic will verify.

So, for those of you keeping track, the score now stands at 1.5 to 0.5 in favour of ‘The Last Seduction’. Can ‘The Maltese Falcon’ snatch a come-from-behind victory in the dying seconds like some cliched sports movie? All signs point to yes, given that the final category is the Generation of Goose Pimples, i.e. the X-factor. This is where a classic film, with its arsenal of nostalgia, should easily defeat a neophyte made-for-TV movie.

First of all, let’s acknowledge the elephant in the room; the falcon features Humphrey Bogart - the Humphrey Bogart. And if that’s not enough, it’ll raise ‘The Last Seduction’ by one Peter Lorre, possibly the most vaguely “funny looking” man ever captured on camera pre-Steve Buscemi. The problem is, however, that Bogart, well, he’s sort of over-hyped. He’s recognisable, but let’s be honest; how many of us would hesitate to take him on in a bar-fight? Despite his legacy, he just doesn’t fit the romantic nor the tough-guy mould. And Mary Astor, for all her crying and murdering, has a haircut most frequently seen on lawn-bowl greens. It’s part of her disguise, I know, but she simply manages to disguise her sociopath self too effectively. The result is what one would expect of a movie made to please the censorship authorities.

Which means that ‘The Last Seduction’ only needs to be halfway memorable for it to pull off the upset. It is indeed - and much more. Like in the case of ‘Dial M for Murder’, a film I reviewed earlier, the audience find themselves cheering for Bridget due to her ingenuity. She is a stunning bad-guy, and not just aesthetically. Her 90-minute journey through the movie is one brilliant step after another. And then there is Bill Pullman’s vengeful-but-impotent wronged husband. Peter Lorre was perfect for his role as the oily Joel Cairo in ‘The Maltese Falcon’, but Pullman is equally ideal as a pusillanimous paper tiger. His threats (and Bridget’s dismissive rolling of the eyes) are the stuff of loser legend.

So what does all of this ultimately add up to? A landslide victory to the upstart ‘Seduction’. ‘The Maltese Falcon’ is a moody classic starring an icon or two, but it pales in comparison to its fame and leaves you asking “Was that it?” after the credits have rolled. ‘The Last Seduction’ simply has more punch and, until you read this glowing write-up, carries less of an onus to blow you away. In short, which movie is less likely to disappoint? ‘The Last Seduction.’

And it’s not even close, I’m afraid.

- Viktor Figeczki

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Ladies and gentlemen - let’s get rrrrreadyyy ... to rrrrruuumble!

In the blue corner, representing the old school, a story penned by Emile Bronte and starring Merle Oberon plus the debonair duo of Laurence Olivier and David Niven - please put your hands together for 1939’s ‘Wuthering Heights


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Old vs New

February 6th 2008 06:56
Imagine Muhammad Ali vs Mike Tyson; or Fangio vs Schumacher; or Laurence Olivier vs Russell Crowe. Okay, so that last pair might not immediately spring to mind whenever the conversation centres on epic fantasy match-ups, but bear with me a minute.

In my previous post, I criticised a recent “blockbuster”, ‘I am Legend’, for its inability to create suspense and even missing the slam-dunk on one easy setup. A certain other movie, more than half a century old and containing no cheap (or should that be overpriced?) visual aids, proved to have a much firmer grip on my attention during its 1.5-hour span


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'I Am Legend' vs 'Dial M For Murder'

January 31st 2008 11:26
Is getting a thrill really too much to ask when you go to see a horror-thriller? If you, like me, was somewhat underwhelmed by the latest string of CGI and violence spawned by Hollywood, 'I Am Legend', you might wonder what has happened to good, ol' fashioned suspense.
Statistically speaking, it's more likely to be found in a cave with Bin Laden and those WMDs than on the silver screen. The potential high watermark of 'Legend' occurred when a wounded Will Smith was trapped and dangling from a rope less than ten feet above the ground, the sun setting fast and those pseudo-vampires about to emerge from their dens. To make matters worse, Smith's loyal dog and sole companion refused to leave him. It was a perfect setup for supreme suspense, a scene to potentially rival the skinny-dipping interlude in 'Jaws'. Instead, the nail-biting scenario fell flat, just like Will Smith when he cut the rope and promptly engaged a pair of canine vampire-zombies in combat. The end result: A predictable and, despite the action, boring sequence befitting 'Resident Evil'.
Which brings me to my real point. More than half a decade ago, filmmakers did not have the luxury of cramming their productions with city-sized UFOs blowing away the White House. They couldn't even create a remotely realistic giant ape vs dinosaur fight. The quality of the script had to carry the movie. And guess what? It often did


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