HMWYBS: Fantasia

Anne continues to technically be on hiatus in May, but apparently she doesn’t know the meaning of the word “hiatus” since she insists on continuing with Hit Me With Your Best Shot.

We forget that Walt Disney Studios started as an experiment. Before the Disney Princesses, before Disneyland, before the purchases of Marvel and Star Wars and the infamous battles over copyright, Walt Disney Studios was a small group of artists testing the limits of a burgeoning film technique: animation. Fantasia was the closest thing to an avante garde film Disney would produce; a series of (mostly) plotless animated shorts based on classical music pieces. Walt himself hoped to make Fantasia an annual event with new additions to the film every year, but World War II and low audience turnout put that idea on hold. Still, it has introduced millions of children to classical music through the years. I know of one child in particular whose of classical music was born from a record of Peter And The Wolf and a wornout VHS of Fantasia. From 20 years ago to the present day, Fantasia‘s incredible union of music and animation continues to fascinate, thrill, and delight me, only now I have the grown-up film studies words to express my joy. And since I’m an overachiever and completely enamored with this movie, I’m going to present my favorite shot from each sequence, starting with my choice for Best Shot.

“Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, BWV 565″ by Johann Sebastian Bach
(Best Shot)

This is my favorite segment, and perhaps the strangest of the nine. Instead of identifiable characters or landmarks, the audience is treated first to a dazzling lights show of an orchestra performing, and then a series of abstract colors and shapes which flit across the screen in time to the music. I’d imagine this is what synesthesia feels like: flashes of moving color and light weaving through the music you hear. This scene in particular stands out to me. The bass line (represented by red ripples) rolls through rhythmically, and bits of violin flash through in rhythmic counterpoint. To this day, when I hear bass strings and french horns, I think of red waves.

“The Nutcracker Suite Op. 71a” by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

Fantasia made The Nutcracker popular in the United States. If you listen to the Narrator before this segment, he mentions that it wasn’t performed very much. Obviously, Disney changed that. I see The Nutcracker every Christmas if I can, and I love the second act suite. However, the Arabian Coffee performance, no matter how gorgeous, never seems to top this underwater sequence in exoticism or beauty. I’m going to say it even though it sounds creepy: that is a seductive fish.

“The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” by Paul Dukas

This is my least favorite segment, most likely because it’s the most conventional. It just bores me. Anyway, I chose this shot because it reminds me of an earlier silhouetted shot of Leopold Stokowski conducting The Philadelphia Orchestra:

“Rite of Spring” by Igor Stravinsky

No matter what Stravinsky thought of Fantasia, I stand by my assertion that this is the segment that best exemplifies the imaginative union of music and animation. “The Rite of Spring” is an emotional whirlwind music, but the original ballet doesn’t do it justice. I know that at the time Nijinsky’s choreography caused an uproar, but in today’s post-modern dance world, it really just looks like a bunch of guys jumping around in silly hats. Fantasia‘s version of “The Rite of Spring” unleashes all of the music’s creative power with a recreation of the beginning of the world. It terrified me as a little kid, but I never fast-forwarded through it because I was awestruck as well. Also, until my parents decided I could watch Jurassic Park these were the only scary dinosaurs I had.

“Symphony No. 6 (‘Pastoral’) Op. 68″ by Ludwig Van Beethoven

I love the little black-and-white Pegasus. Actually, what I want to talk about here is a term called “Mickey Mousing.” Mickey Mousing is a technique used most often in animated film when music is synced to an action onscreen. For instance, a character falls a distance to an accompanying slide whistle and hits the ground with a drumbeat. Characters in Fantasia do a kind of reverse Mickey Mousing; actions are matched to the beats of the music. In this case, the little black-and-white Pegasus gives himself three pulls on the tail to an accompanying three-beat violin scale that will start the next musical sentence.

“Dance of the Hours” by Amilcare Ponchielli

Ostriches eating oddly-shaped fruit is never not funny.

“A Night on Bald Mountain” by Modest Mussorgsky

Are you convinced yet that Disney didn’t set out to make kids’ movies? Because nothing about this sequence says “let’s show this to little kids.” The demons in “A Night on Bald Mountain” are terrifying, but this sequence is also the source of some of the most hallucinatory and beautiful art in the entire film. This was another situation where, no matter how badly I was scared, I could never turn the TV off.

“Ave Maria, Op. 52 No. 6″ by Franz Schubert

I used to think that this was an extension of “A Night On Bald Mountain” because of how well the one transitions into the other. But I didn’t much appreciate its calming effects or slow, light-bearing pilgrims after the blast of adrenaline caused by the previous scene. Looking at it now, I can’t help noticing that it presages the beautiful blue-green palette and architectural style of the trees in Sleeping Beauty by about 19 years.

It is profoundly difficult to write about a movie that’s almost entirely music and plotless images, so I’m going to conclude this by saying: if you haven’t watched Fantasia in a while, or even if you have, watch it again soon. And if you can’t do that, then listen to the music and create your own Fantasia.

For more fun updates, or to suggest a movie, like WRM on Facebook or follow on Twitter @WeRecycleMovies. Also check out our podcast on iTunes!

HMWYBS: The Talented Mr. Ripley

Anne is technically on hiatus through May putting super-heroic effort into a writing proposal, but will contribute brief submissions to Hit Me With Your Best Shot because she never started a project she didn’t complete, except for maybe a few papers in college.

Today for Hit Me With Your Best Shot, I’d like to talk about title sequences; specifically, Saul Bass title sequences. Since last week was Saul Bass’s 93rd birthday (commemorated by a beautiful Google doodle), I think it’s only fitting. Obviously, Saul Bass did not design the title sequence for The Talented Mr. Ripley, but anyone who knows his work will find this opening very familiar.

Best Shot

The shot is simple but effective: jagged internal frames cut through a black screen, gradually revealing a single shot circling the darkly-lit Matt Damon. This title sequence stylishly introduces a major theme of the film – Tom Ripley’s fractured identity – while paying homage to the psychological thrillers before it. The two films that immediately come to mind are The Big Knife, which starts with the image of a man being broken apart, and The Man With The Golden Arm, which famously inserts white lines like needles into the frame. (For a full list of Saul Bass title sequences, click here.)

The Big Knife

The Man With The Golden Arm

Though The Big Knife is a late noir and The Man With The Golden Arm is a film about addiction, both share with The Talented Mr. Ripley a main character torn between his ugly past and his hopes for the future. In The Big Knife, actor Charles Castle tries to break free from the corrupt Hollywood studio that owns his career. In The Man With The Golden Arm, Frank Machine battles his addiction and criminal record and tries to hold onto the woman he loves. And in The Talented Mr. Ripley, Tom Ripley tries, through whatever extreme means necessary, to pull himself out of his lower-class life. In each film, the tone and themes for the movie are laid bare for the audience before the first line is even spoken. That is the power of a great title sequence.

For more fun updates, or to suggest a movie, like WRM on Facebook or follow on Twitter @WeRecycleMovies. Also check out our podcast on iTunes!

Special Guest Post from Gabe: Die Hard!

Anne is on hiatus during May as she finishes what is quickly becoming the writing project from Hell. In the meantime, please enjoy this guest review by Gabe, writer/drinker of Beer And A Movie.

Hey there, Recyclers!

Are you ready to Die? Hard? IN SEVERAL DIFFERENT COMPROMISING SCENARIOS?! Then you’re in luck because in this installment of WRM, your favorite guest-blogger has watched the original three Die Hard films: Die Hard (1988), Die Hard 2 (1990) and Die Hard with a Vengeance (1995). So let’s get started, shall we?

For starters, let’s being with an overview of the franchise. Bad boy New York cop John McClane encounters terrorists/bad dudes and must single-handedly defeat them because the police are incompetent. That is, literally, the plot to first three movies (and fourth, which I have seen but not reviewed here for sake of time…I can’t vouch for the newest film).  Of course I’m being a bit brash with my plot reductions but Die Hard, like most action movies, is not really about the plot. It’s about the hero kicking ass, making things explode and saying snarky things after completing the latter two.  In that regard, the Die Hard series is both an innovator and a sad victim of its own tropes. Yippy kay yeah, mother recyclers!

Die Hard

I can see my house from up here!

Based off the book “Nothing Lasts Forever” (who knew?), Die Hard is in many ways a vocal response to the action films of the 1980’s. Die Hard is light on body-builders, confined in its geography and completely disempowers its protagonist which is pretty much the opposite of any Schwarzenegger film. The first fifteen minutes of the film quite effectively introduce us to John McClane as a man who’s not on his A-game. He’s in LA to woo his wife back but seems at a loss as to how to do so. He fumbles with his wife and when the shit hits the fan, he runs.  As the movies progresses, McClane acts more like a wrench in the machine more than a force to be reckoned with. Without providing a list of examples, I will say that this is evident largely in the fact that McClane regularly gets the shit kicked out him and achieves victory mostly through luck. He walks on glass, gets shot, falls down elevator shafts, etc. Like any action hero, he takes a beating beyond what we mere mortals can handle but at least we see the wear and tear on his body. In fact, the movie makes a point of showing us how unfit John is for his situation. Near the film conclusion, we’re treated to beautiful shot of McClane, machine gun in hand of course, limping down a hall. He is blackened and bloody and moaning his enemy’s name. And his wife is there to say what we’re all thinking “Jesus Christ!”

I could keep talking about Die Hard but I’ll spare you. Mostly what I’m trying to say is that this movie is actually really good. Yes, it sags a bit in the middle and is definitely too long, but it’s still one of my favorite action films. The hero is relatable and human.  The bad guy is intriguing and oddly likeable (and dies memorably). And the action is geographically confined in a way that feels fresh for the genre. Sadly, I really can’t say the same for Die Hard 2

Die Hard 2

Requisite Explosion Screenshot

It’s Christmas again and now LA cop is in Washington D.C. and terrorists have struck again! This time, a rogue group of soldiers, for reasons that are pretty much never explained, attempt to free a Latin American warlord from extradition. The plan? Hack into the air traffic control tower and crash planes until they have what they want. But what they didn’t count on is John McClane and his tendency to find average-looking people suspicious. So that’s where we begin. Abandoned are the tight-spaces and disempowerment. What we have now is a cop who knows better than everyone else. All the way until the last 20 minutes of the film, no one trusts McClane’s opinion, even when he has proved correct throughout. In short, this sequel follows the model of most action sequels: broaden the scope and bring in the army.

Not only is the writing and acting worse, the film makes little attempt to invest us in John beyond wanting him to be proven right. He’s cocky and his one-line zingers are more by rote than anything else. His famous “yippey kay yeah mother fucker” is tossed in at the end like lip service and lacks any of the punch it held in the first film. So with a watered-down good guy, the least we could ask for is an engaging bad guy, right? Sorry! No can do. Colnel Stuart is flat and calculating. The only interesting thing about him is that he does naked ninja yoga (no joke) that is never explained. So can we bank of an interesting twist at least? Meh, not really. Sadly, the twist that comes about 3/4ths of the way through this slog of a movie is not that dramatic and does little to change the outcome. Overall, DH2 dismisses what made its predecessor stand out and replaces it with the same bullet-ridden fanfare that we have grown accustomed to.

Die Hard with a Vengeance

The buddy cop movie that could have been…

Beginning with a title card that made me laugh out loud, DH3 does little to right the wrongs made in DH2.

(just watch the first seven seconds)

The scope is again broadened and McClane is again watered down. Certainly being a hero two times over earns you a little bravado, but the McClane of DH3 seems to have been thoroughly co-opted  by the action movie machine. Sure he still gets beat to shit, but McClane is smarter now and actively engages in his plight. He deviates from his enemy’s plan, outsmarts his foe, he leans on his new civilian partner Samuel L. Jackson and he’s generally a bigger douchebag. Sure, the action is bigger but it isn’t better and the story is as meandering as McClane’s cross-city adventure.  Simply put, it’s just not a good movie.

Overall, I still generally like these kinds of action movies. They are good fun and mostly mindless. What upsets about the franchise is that it started off so damn well. It had all of the elements of a great, stand-out film in its genre and yet as the series progressed, it began to look more and more like its silver screen siblings. There is a lot more that I could say about these movies; issues of race, Cold War fears and discussions of technological reliance but that’s for another day…to DIE HARD!

Thanks for sticking with me through this post. My posts on my own blog are typically shorter and booze-fueled, so this was a bit of a fun challenge for me to write something a little longer. Thanks to Anne for letting me tarnish her reputation of academic analysis. But sometimes it’s good to remember that watching a bad movie can just as much fun as watching a good one.

Thanks Gabe! If you haven’t already, find him at Beer And A Movie or follow him on Twitter @beerandamovie1.

For more fun updates, or to suggest a movie, like WRM on Facebook or follow on Twitter @WeRecycleMovies. Also check out our podcast on iTunes!

HMWYBS Summertime and Trains!

Anne is technically on hiatus through May to finish a writing project, but will contribute brief submissions to Hit Me With Your Best Shot because she’ll be damned if she doesn’t see the entire series through.

It seems like every time I write for this series, I start by saying, “Today I want to talk about my favorite subject.” Well instead, today I want to talk about David Lean’s favorite subject: trains. No other director has been so visually fascinated by trains.

Here a train…

Brief Encounter (1945)

There a train…

The Bridge On The River Kwai (1957)

Everywhere a train…

Lawrence of Arabia (1962)

Train…

Doctor Zhivago (1965)

If you haven’t seen any of these trains (or films) I highly suggest them if you have 3 1/2 hours to spare. Lean’s films run the gamut of genre (romance, epic, literary adaptation, war film, Noel Coward drama) but they almost always have a train scene. David Lean, not coincidentally, is one of my favorite directors. If you’ve seen Summertime, you probably know where this is going…

Best Shot

I’m cheating again because it’s the last shot of the film, but I’m choosing it for two reasons: 1) I love trains. 2) Despite my annoyance with the message of the story (you can rekindle your long-lost joie de vivre if you let an Italian guy stalk his way into your pants), I love the image of Katherine Hepburn recklessly leaning almost entirely out the window of a moving train just to wave good bye. It’s a joyful (if hammy) ending. And if they didn’t lock train windows now, it’s probably something I’d attempt.

Anne is on hiatus in May, but check back for guest blogs! For more fun updates, or to suggest a movie, like WRM on Facebook or follow on Twitter @WeRecycleMovies. Also check out our podcast on iTunes!

HMWYBS: Double Indemnity and LA Architecture

I seem to start every Hit Me With Your Best Shot post like this, but I’m going to say it again: Today I would like to talk about one of my favorite subjects. No, this time it’s not Technicolor or film restoration or censorship (although I may get back to that one). This time, I want to talk about Los Angeles.  Double Indemnity isn’t just the story of a crooked insurance salesman and a black widow housewife. It’s the symphony of a city, a tour through postwar LA like it wasn’t supposed to be but so often was: ugly, dark, and cruel. Architecture geeks (like me) revel in the wide array of architectural styles on display in the film. However, Billy Wilder’s real triumph is not just recording these styles, but using them to probe the fractured soul of a man and a city without a center.

In Billy Wilder’s Los Angeles, we see the smoggy streets of downtown…

…the brighter, busier Hollywood Blvd…

…the Art Deco arch of the Hollywood Bowl…

…the staid Neoclassical design of Pacific Insurance (check out that “Tiffany” window)…

…but most importantly, the Spanish Colonial Revival residence of one Phyllis Dietrichson.

It looks sunny from the outside, cheery even. Spanish Colonial Revival is an almost uniquely Southern California architectural style, meant to celebrate regional history and atmosphere. When the style was first developed in the 1910s, Los Angeles was beginning a small boom as America’s Mediterranean Getaway. Spanish Colonial Revival mixed influences from Pueblo, Mediterranean, and of course Spanish architecture. Other styles initially competed with it (the Arts & Crafts movement in East LA and Neoclassical downtown). But while others faded, Spanish Colonial Revival has continued even to present day, due to its apparent appropriateness for its sunlit surroundings. After all, what is LA if not America’s Sunny Spot? But what happens when you go inside this little villa?

BEST SHOT

An architectural style that’s supposed to celebrate sunshine and air and all of those things that make Los Angeles the New Mediterranean rendered claustrophobic and dark.  The thick stucco walls loom, venetian blinds meant to let in sun instead cast shadows, overstuffed chairs feel sensual and decorative metal ornaments become twisted prison bars. The atmosphere is one of decadent entrapment, and at the center of it is Barbra Stanwyck, prisoner and jailer all in one.

Imagine Norma Desmond decaying in a sleek modernist mansion. Imagine Dixon Steele eyeing his buxom neighbor through a large Chicago Window, unhidden by the metal grate. Imagine Mildred Pierce baking pies in her Kitchen Of Tomorrow, complete with dishwasher and laminate countertops. You can’t, can you? The mood, the melancholy, the malevolent shadows that creep from corners are the stylistic hallmarks of Los Angeles Noir, inextricably tied to an architectural style that goes from sunny to savage with the flick of a light switch.  The International Style was too antiseptic, Art Deco too frenetic, Arts & Crafts too provincial. Noir demanded drama, humanity, and location, and Spanish Colonial Revival provided all three. There has never been a greater marriage of architecture and genre.

For more fun updates, or to suggest a movie, like WRM on Facebook or follow on Twitter @WeRecycleMovies. Also check out our podcast on iTunes!

WRM Podcast: Treasure Island(s)!

Avast ye recyclers!

After a month-and-a-half long hiatus, the We Recycle Movies podcast is back and better than ever (now with sound clips)! This month, we talk about four of the over fifty adaptations of Robert Louis Stevenson’s famous swashbuckling story, Treasure Island. So strap on your cutlass, muzzle your parrot, and set sail with us!

Listen to the podcast here.

This month’s trivia question: Basil Rathbone is well-known for two things: playing Sherlock Holmes and playing dastardly villains opposite swashbuckling heroes in the 1930s and 1940s. Despite being an accomplished fencer, Rathbone had to lose again and again. He won just one swordfight in his onscreen career. What was the movie, and who did he kill?

For more fun updates, or to suggest a movie, like WRM on Facebook or follow on Twitter @WeRecycleMovies. Also check out our podcast on iTunes!

4 Best Movie Spoofs From “The Carol Burnett Show”

Today is the 80th birthday of one of the funniest women in America, A lady who ruled TV for 11 years on her own sketch show on CBS, Carol Burnett! Although I clearly wasn’t alive during 1967-1978, I was able to catch a syndicated version of The Carol Burnett Show on TBS when I was in elementary school. I don’t know if I can fully articulate how incredibly influential Carol Burnett’s been in my life. When I was in 3th grade, I was cast as the Queen in Cinderella, so I did what I thought was a dead-on impression of Burnett’s Queen Elizabeth from the “Stinky” sketch. (“STINKYYYY?”). For Halloween I wanted desperately to dress as the Charwoman, but after the previous year’s difficulty getting my classmates to understand who Harpo Marx was, I decided to go with my other childhood hero, Sherlock Holmes. (Good thing too; it snowed!) I never doubted women could be funny and powerful and dignified all at once, because every week a friend named Carol Burnett came into my living room for an hour to tell me jokes.

Unfortunately, it’s much harder to find her show now. I have a small DVD box set of Carol’s Favorites, but I pine after the recently released, limited-time-only collection of 50 episodes. (Student loans, car repair payments, or Carol Burnett DVDs: pick one.) Fortunately, some wiley YouTube folks have uploaded sketches from their old VHS tapes, so you can get a good idea of what the show was. So, since I can’t invite all of you to my place for the marathon viewing party this incredibly important day deserves, in the spirit of the blog here are my 4 favorite movie parodies from The Carol Burnett Show.

4) “Double Calamity”- Because Film Noir as a genre is ripe for parody. This sketch shows two things The Carol Burnett Show combined so well: physical comedy and wordplay. Every time Mr. Left (“Left?” “Right.”) bites off one of her earrings, I absolutely lose it.

3) “As The Stomach Turns – Raven”- Carol Burnett loves soap operas, so of course the show had to take aim at this genre too. “As The Stomach Turns” was a fantastic parody of what was wrong with soap operas (my favorite gag is the late doorbell), but usually also incorporated a popular movie as well. This particular send off of The Exorcist is my personal favorite not only because I love Bernadette Peters, but also because by the end of the sketch Tim Conway is so clearly going off script and it’s all Carol Burnett can do to keep it together and finish the scene.

2) “Nora Desmond”- Carol Burnett is the best actress for emoting through the eyes since the heydey of silent film, so of course she had to take aim at Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard. This sketch isn’t really even about Sunset Boulevard. It takes the basic idea (batty silent film star out of touch with reality and her creepy director/butler), builds a new character, and then they just run with it. Carol was so good as Nora Desmond that she and Max became a recurring sketch. My favorite of those later ones is “Nora Desmond Gets Roasted.” Especially when she picks up the foie gras and starts giving her Oscars acceptance speech. Just. Flawless.

1) “Went With The Wind”- I just–I can’t. I can’t even. Nothing I can say can possibly do justice for how good this is.

The best part is that I haven’t even scratched the surface of the hilarity that was The Carol Burnett Show. Since I’m (theoretically) trying to stay on-theme with the blog right now, I left out all of the original sketches. “The Dentist”, “Mr. Tudball and Mrs. Wiggins”, “Mama’s Family”, “Product Placement”, (my favorite) “The Pail.” Bless you, Carol Burnett, for making our lives funnier, happier, and sillier. I’m so glad we had this time together.

For more fun updates, or to suggest a movie, like WRM on Facebook or follow on Twitter @WeRecycleMovies. Also check out our podcast on iTunes!

HMWYBS: How “A Star Is Born” Changed My Life

It’s strange to think how much one movie can affect your life. A Star Is Born could easily be considered the mascot film of this blog. I’ve raved (and occasionally ranted) about A Star Is Born in all its versions. I re-started the blog reviewing all three adaptations, compared Liza to Judy in New York, New York, and used my favorite shot to trounce Tom Hooper’s silly claim that pre-recorded singing can’t be powerful. So, if you want to read my thoughts and worship at the altar of Judy, click any of the previous links. Today, instead of rehashing old memories, I’m going to tell you why this movie means so much to me. A Star Is Born might not be my favorite Judy Garland film (or it might be, I honestly spent all morning trying to rank my favorites but who can choose?). However, my personal feelings are irrelevant. The fact is, A Star Is Born inspired not only this blog, but my entire career.

It was Christmas 2009, and the theme was Movies About LA. Yes, my family does themed gift giving, but don’t judge us as those dorks wearing hand-knit ugly Christmas sweaters. (I mean, I have a Christmas sweater but I wear it ironically.) Think of what a great theme Movies About LA is for a movie geek living in LA. At the top of the pile was, of course, A Star Is Born, a film I had somehow overlooked despite being a self-identified Judy-phile. I cracked it open, and my mom and I settled in for a long winter’s viewing (with Dad napping on the couch). But halfway through the first act we hit on something neither of us had seen before – black and white stills! The movie soundtrack was as normal, but for some reason it was overlayed with some oddly photoshopped pictures of Judy. We were shocked. What the hell were production stills doing in the middle of our Warnercolor extravaganza?

Possibly photoshopped. Not 100% sure.

As many of you have probably guessed, we were watching the famous Ronald Haver restoration of A Star Is Born, which returned the film as closely as possible to its original uncut glory. This included the offending production stills, which were placed in the scenes that had recovered soundtrack but no picture. This was my first run in with film restoration. I knew movies had to go through some kind of process to get from a vault to my DVD player, but I had no idea what that process might be. When I returned to school for my spring Junior semester, I did what any film studies geek would do with a newfound obsession: I wrote a paper about it. In retrospect, the paper was naive and bordered on hero worship. I imagined Haver and his team combing through dusty, cobweb-lined archives like real reel Indiana Joneses, except instead of ancient artifacts they were discovering hidden gems from Hollywood’s Golden Age. As I polished my final draft (most likely a little late; College Me was terrible at deadlines), I sighed to myself, “I wonder how one becomes a film archivist. Oh well.”

Fast forward a year and a half: I was a fresh-faced post-grad who had luckily landed herself a job as a production assistant for a TV series which shot on a major studio lot. Because PA schedules and LA traffic are infamously changeable (i.e. they suck), I tended to arrive at the studio an hour before my calltime. This gave me ample opportunity to explore, and I took advantage. Though I loved my job for the stories it gave me and the people I worked with, I realized quickly that production wasn’t for me. My favorite part of working on the TV show was hour or so I got to wander the lot, absorbing studio history through the soles of my shoes. Then one day, after getting completely lost in the biggest building on the lot, I saw it: A door with a sign reading “FILM VAULT.”

I wish I could say that moment was a revelation, my personal version of Dorothy opening the door to Oz. In reality, I paced outside the door and then rode the elevator up and down for thirty minutes because I was so terrified. Finally, I screwed my courage to the sticking point, walked in – and was confronted by an empty room. Those who have worked in production will know that PAs work an inhuman schedule, so I had actually missed the entire archive’s staff by about three hours. But I dug in my heels. I called the vault the next day, and the head of the vault cheerfully agreed to meet with me. Then I got my Dorothy-in-Oz moment the next week. That meeting led to another, which led to another, and eventually somebody decided to take a risk on the college kid with no practical experience but a lot of enthusiasm.

I’ve been working in film archiving and post-production for a year and a half, and it is perfect for a film geek like me. My job isn’t always easy; it’s very dirty, my clothes reek of vinegar, and despite claims to the contrary I’m not exactly Indiana Jones. Still, where else would an encyclopedic knowledge of Golden Age Hollywood come in handy (besides trivia night)? Most importantly, I get to to put my passion towards preserving our film history. And I owe it all to Judy.

BEST SHOT

One of Garland’s greatest performances, captured almost entirely in one shot. My favorite moment comes during the big crescendo, when she and the camera rush to meet each other, and the frame can barely contain the kinetic energy. Look at her exuberance. This is what she loves to do. This is what she was born to do. I can relate.

Thank you, Ms. Garland

For more fun updates, or to suggest a movie, like WRM on Facebook or follow on Twitter @WeRecycleMovies. Also check out our podcast on iTunes!

5 Weird Colors From Merriam Webster As Seen In Technicolor

Did you miss these Top 5 lists? I know I did. Last week’s brief (that’s right, 2,500 words count as brief) history of the Queen of Technicolor lends itself perfectly to a list of Top 5 Technicolor Movies You Really Need To See. However, last week’s post contains stills from at least 10 movies that I would call Need-To-See. (Including The Red Shoes. Have you watched it yet?)  In fact, I’d be hard pressed to think of a Technicolor movie that I don’t think falls under that heading. This realization left me a little stumped about what to do. Fortunately, nerds to the rescue! Yesterday, future contributor Adam B. sent me a list of Merriam Webster’s “Top 10 Words For Unusual Colors Worth Looking At.” So I took the first 5 decidedly unusual colors and gave them a Technicolor makeover. Here’s I found.

1) Vermillion: The Greatest Show On Earth – Is there a setting better suited for Technicolor than a circus? In this case, director Cecil B. de Mille borrowed Ringling Bros Barnum & Bailey Circus to tell a very long melodrama about love and loss among the flying trapeze. But never mind the plot. Check out that bright red jacket! And against those purple sparkling dresses too. I have to imagine that Natalie Kalmus (who was ejected from Technicolor before this film was made) probably had a hernia when she saw this. And believe me when I say that this is muted compared to the rest of the film. If not the Greatest, it’s certainly the Brightest Show On Earth.

2) Verdigris Green: Blithe Spirit – So not every Technicolor design is perfect. Even with an army of specially trained color consultants, something hideous is bound to slip through the cracks. Take for instance Elvira’s costume in Blithe Spirit. Despite how she looks, Elvira is not in fact runner up in the Statue Of Liberty Lookalike Contest. She’s British. She’s also dead, which seems to have inspired this particularly unfortunate shade of green. For the heroine of a parlor room romantic comedy, she looks more ghastly than ghostly.

3) Titian: Color Girl – Painter Titian was famous for painting redheads, but the only one more smitten with strawberry blondes than the painter was Technicolor. Thanks to the company, in the mid-1940s redheads were in vogue. Actresses such as Lucille Ball and Judy Garland went auburn to become new Technicolor glamor girls. But no Technicolor Redhead compares to Rita Hayworth, and nowhere is she lovelier than Cover Girl. Oh, Gene Kelly is also in this movie. He’s easy to forget when Rita’s onscreen.

4) Bisque: Black Narcissus – This is an unusual movie. Unlike its more brightly colored and well-known counterpart The Red Shoes (Seriously though, have you watched it yet?), Black Narcissus is an exercise in balancing restraint and decadence. The story revolves around a group of nuns isolated in a monastery in the forbidding Himalayas. The order of the nuns’ monastic life is represented by the neutrals they wear (like Sister Ruth’s habit above), but slowly their exotic surroundings begin to encroach on their guarded lives through splashes of light and color. I’m making this sound dry and academic, but it’s actually an incredible film. It’s also more than a little racist. Blame Imperial Britain.

5) Puce: Gone With The Wind – Okay, yes. I’m cheating. I used this shot in the last post. It’s just so good. Scarlett O’Hara, true to her name and fiery disposition, wears many different shades of red through the course of the film. But oh this dress! If you need a refresher on the 3 ½ hour long plot, this scene takes place after she has been discovered in the arms of Ashleigh, who is not her husband. Rhett forces her to go to Ashleigh’s wife’s party, and this low-cut red dress is meant to be her public shame. But Scarlett is not the kind of woman to admit guilt or be cowed by convention. The dress and her defiant look say everything before she even speaks a line.

Thank you for joining me for yet another excuse to gush about Technicolor. The rest of Merriam Webster’s unusual colors can be found here.  Take a look and match them to some of your favorite colorful film moments!

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HMWYBS Jurassic Park 3D & CGI

Jurassic Park is one of those defining movies for kids of the ’80s and ’90s. Whether they love it or hate it (and let’s be honest, we all love it), they can still tell you where they saw it, when they saw it, and whether they screamed or laughed when the T-Rex ate the lawyer off the toilet. For me, Jurassic Park was a big deal because it was the first PG-13 movie I was allowed to see. (Yes, I was one of those poor, deprived children who wasn’t allowed to see PG-13 or R-rated movies. My parents put on the Marx Brothers and Judy Garland movies instead. Now that I think about it, that actually goes a long way in explaining this blog.)

Anyway, I didn’t see Jurassic Park until 3 or 4 movies after it was released, but I remember it like it was yesterday. My dad rented it on one night after a ski trip, and we huddled together on the couch, peering at a tiny television. Even though I was so proud of myself for finally watching a PG-13 movie, I couldn’t help cowering behind by dad when the T-Rex overturned the Jeep. Even on that 15 inch screen, the T-Rex loomed large. So imagine how gigantic it looked to me when I finally got to see it on the big screen last week!

If you live in Los Angeles and you haven’t been to a screening at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences, you are missing out on the best quality, most fascinating movie-going experience in the city (Here’s their website and mailing list. Get on it). Last Tuesday, the Academy assembled the multi-award-winning visual effects team behind Jurassic Park, as well as the head of Stereo D and one of the actors. VFX and Designer superstars Rick Carter, Dennis Muren, and Phil Tippett swapped stories about robots in the rain, hurricanes, and computer dinosaurs with actor Martin Ferrero (aka that guy the T-Rex eats off the toilet), while William Sherak (son of former Academy president Tom Sherak) discussed his Stereo D 3D conversion of the film. I wish I could give you a full transcript of the night’s conversation, but instead here’s the highlight reel.

It isn’t a stretch to say that Jurassic Park changed the way we make movies. Tippett, Muren, and Carter first discussed the long pre-production for the film. All three were working on other projects (Tippett and Muren on T2) when Spielberg first approached them about a dinosaur movie. Originally, Spielberg wanted all of the dinosaurs to be robotic puppets, to limit the post-production work as much as possible. Tippet’s response: “Can’t do that.” “Why not?” “For the same reason there’s no golf course on the moon!”

The next plan was to use a new form of animation called Go Motion (Stop Motion, Go Motion. Get it?). Go Motion was still slightly choppy, which is why Spielberg brought in Muren and Industrial Light & Magic to smooth out the action with the still-mostly-untested CGI. ILM would also do some dinosaur herds far off in the distance. Basically, at this point CGI was to be in a supporting role. That is, until Muren and his crew showed Spielberg the animated T-Rex ILM had been animating “on the side.” The dinosaur wasn’t even fully animated yet, but it was enough to convince the VFX crew to scrap Go Motion altogether, instead using a combination of robotic puppets and CGI. And I have to say, 20 years later, that combination still looks fantastic.

Of course, we as an audience weren’t seeing the film in its original form; we were seeing it in 3D. Sherak explained a bit about the conversion process: he watches the film on mute with the director, going scene by scene to glean the important details. The most difficult part, he said, was keeping the epic scale of the T-Rex. But a difficulty Sherak couldn’t address which (literally) pops up in the film continuously was that this was a film never shot with 3D in mind. Spielberg brilliantly used foreground and background elements to achieve the illusion of depth, but these tricks end up backfiring when actually converted to 3D. For example, suddenly what had been a subtle, eerie move through the palm leaves at the beginning of the film became a crashing thrust through dense forest. 3D changed the tone of the scene drastically.

However, the 3D conversion wasn’t all bad or all good. In some scenes, it worked fantastically. Sherak talked about the difficulty of converting the T-Rex jeep scene (3500 frames with multiple foreground & background elements, rain, a giant dinosaur, and reflections), but here more than anywhere in the movie, Stereo D shined brightest. I didn’t think that as a 25 year old, somewhat jaded action-movie viewer I could get so nervous that I’d jump out of my seat, but when that T-Rex smashed through the window I easily cleared 3 feet!

Best Shot

Three in one: The robotic head of the T-Rex, the computer-added effect of the dilating eye, a delicate 3D moment and OH MY GOD IT’S COMING THROUGH THE GLASS!

Muren noted that throughout the film, Spielberg kept saying, “It needs to be more 3D! It needs to jump out!” To this, Sherak smiled and replied, “We got it there for you.” 3D conversion may not be flawless, and for a great action film like Jurassic Park it may seem like gilding the prehistoric lily, but to be honest: yeah, they really did.

Jurassic Park plays in theaters for a limited time only. Go see it. I’m going again tomorrow. Your inner 8 year old will rejoice! (And then scream.)