Robert Redford directs this adaptation of Judith Guest’s novel, about a family reeling from the accidental death of the eldest child. Unlike so many dramas, it’s what you don’t see and what isn’t said that makes Ordinary People such a gut-wrenching, powerfully moving film.
Timothy Hutton, Donald Sutherland, and Mary Tyler Moore give superb performances as family members struggling to reconnect with one another after the tragedy. Hutton won the Best Supporting Actor Oscar for his raw, riveting portrayal of young Conrad Jarrett. Moore plays his mother, an emotionally unavailable woman barricading herself from further distress by ignoring her family’s problems, even after Conrad tries to take his own life. Sutherland plays the father, the mediator between mother and son, desperately trying to hold his family together. Judd Hirsch appears as Conrad’s therapist, a savior shrink who forces Conrad to confront his guilt and fear.
This was the first blockbuster superhero movie (for better and for worse) and I doubt there will ever be a better film adaptation for the Man of Steel. Under Richard Donner’s (The Omen, Lethal Weapon) direction and good taste, Superman is a winning blend of action, drama, charm, and yes, camp. The first forty minutes are emotionally powerful, more than any other comic book adaptation I’ve ever seen. I get choked up every time I watch this movie, whether it’s seeing Marlon Brando (as Jor-El) say goodbye to his son before sending him away from their doomed home world, watching the Kent family deal with the death of Jonathan Kent, or the gorgeous wheat field scene where Clark tells Ma Kent it’s time for him to go.
Ten years after Night of the Living Dead, which pretty much invented zombies as we now know them, George Romero went back to the well and made a sequel that I like even better. Never content to make a zombie movie that is just a zombie movie, Romero infuses Dawn with a statement on the soul-numbing effects of crash commercialism. It’s excellent fodder for college essays, but the message isn’t too overbearing. Dawn functions first and foremost as escapist fare, a kind I particularly enjoy. I mean, how cool would it be to live in a giant mall, even if (especially if?) it was under siege by the living dead? Dawn also benefits from the same claustrophobia and documentary-style film making Romero employed in the first film.
Star Wars needs another review like a wookiee needs Rogaine, but let’s reflect anyway, lest we start to forget its cultural importance and overall awesomeness. After film reached (still) unparalleled popularity in the late ’30s and ’40s, television came along and the film industry instantly began to shrivel. The dry spell lasted until the mid-70s (perfect timing, mom and dad), when the ‘film school generation’ of filmmakers hit the scene. George Lucas was one of the primary figures in this movement, and Star Wars, more than any other single film, blew the box (office) apart and reinvigorated the movie business. This isn’t an exaggeration. If I hadn’t seen Star Wars and its sequels as a child, I doubt I’d like movies nearly as much as I do today. It remains an incredible cinematic achievement to the world, and a lasting influence on me.
Brian DePalma directs this Stephen King tale of a ridiculed girl who discovers she has telekinetic powers she can use against her tormenters. King’s forte is character, and he’s got two rich ones with timid Carrie and her whackadoodle mama. Sissy Spacek and Piper Laurie knock it out of the park in two Oscar-nominated performances. Their scenes together are magic — especially when Laurie drags Spacek by the scalp and locks her in a broom closet just for getting her first period. For me, someone who fears nothing more than blind religious conviction, few scenes are as terrifying as watching Laurie scream, “Eve was weak! Eve was weak! Say it, child!” while slapping Spacek in the face with the Bible.
