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Even though I know the ending, it never fails to impress and intrigue me. First time in about a dozen viewings that I noticed Spike Jonze has a small part, too. Another great entry by David Fincher.
Now imagine the movie 40 minutes longer, half of that devoted to Cyborg's back story and origin, 10 more minutes on Flash & Aquaman, and most of the rest being a cliffhanger set-up for Darkseid on his way to Earth after Steppenwolf is defeated. And Superman only shows up near the end to show he's back for part 2.
This may sound good to some people, but I like what we got. A likable if not remarkable one-off film. Honestly, waiting two years for part 2 to see yet another CGI battle destroying vast cityscapes? No thanks. They cut their losses and salvaged what they could. IMO anyway.
It would be a dull world if we all liked the same stuff, JL has grown on me it is alot of fun, I am bitter toward WB more than anything.
I agree. It’s well-made and it got a few chuckles out of me, but the subject matter is definitely not for me.
Going in I wasn't sure about Alicia Wikander being Lara, but was quite surprised and fully on-board with her within a short time. Would be nice if there was a sequel, it is certainly set up that way (just a bit quieter please!). And what happened to the scene of her riding a Triumph?
Had seen it already but with all the talk of Danny Boyle, i thought it I give it another look.
Have to say it's an entertaining film.
James McAvoy (does he ever age?) stars as someone who works in an auction house who due to gambling debts, joins up with Vincent Cassel and his gang to steal a valuable painting. Things go awry after McCoy tries to doublecross, gets knocked out and can't remember where he hid the stolen picture. Cassel and his crew get him to visit a hypnotist, Rosario Dawson, to see if she can get him to reveal whereabouts.
After that there are a few twist and turns before a surprise climax.
First thing to be said is that Boyle is a very stylish director. He and cinematographer Anthony Dod Mantle provide a visually impressive thriller. It's a mad story but Boyle and writer John Hodge keep you interested
And the three principal leads are excellent.
Cassel would be a terrific Bond villain imho.
There's not much action but the brief set pieces he does execute with some flair.
Worth checking out!
Slow and boring. Anyone else seen it and opinion ?
Didn't love it, but i liked it.
Followed by this :
Both great films,i had a lot of fun viewing them !
Have only seen Der Himmel über Berlin and honestly that's one of the ten best films I've ever seen.
I should dig deeper into his oeuvre one of these days.
Fantastic film, that one.
Some good, all the stuff about the girl was crap. The dog fights were quite engaging though.
6/10
By far my fave from him (of those that I've seen).
A couple of weeks ago I embarked on a mission to watch six versions of The Hound of the Baskervilles, in order to find out which of these prominent adaptations was the best. I shall proceed in chronological order, starting with the most famous version of all.
The Hound of the Baskervilles (1939, 20th Century Fox)
This classic film works beautifully because it has two essential requirements for any successful adaptation of the tale: genuine atmosphere and a charismatic actor as Holmes.
Basil Rathbone’s masterful Holmes is superficially avuncular and delightfully cold-blooded—“I could imagine his giving a friend a little pinch of the latest vegetable alkaloid, not out of malevolence, you understand, but simply out of a spirit of inquiry in order to have an accurate idea of the effects,” as Doyle wrote in another story. Rathbone keeps Nigel Bruce’s doltish Watson around because he enjoys lording it over anyone less clever—he views ordinary people with the sort of amused condescension we give our pets.
Nigel Bruce’s Watson is more competent and less dense than in later entries, but even here he’s too slow on the draw to be Doyle's skilled Everyman. Because so much of the Hound takes place with Holmes absent, you need a strong and charismatic Watson to hold up the middle. Bruce is a strong enough screen presence to almost compensate for his miscasting.
Ernest Pascal’s screenplay does an admirably efficient job of compressing the book into 80 minutes—were there 20 to 30 more this film might have been truly definitive—and he whips the story along at marching speed (Watson and Sir Henry are on the moor a mere 20 minutes after the credits). The few additional scenes, like the coroner's inquiry and the séance, add mood and bring the suspects together for us.
Sidney Lanfield’s direction is anonymous, but the film’s strengths are in production design and cinematography. Though filmed entirely in the studio, the fake Devonshire moors look almost better than the real thing, and probably carry more menace. Created on a soundstage so vast (200 by 300 feet) that cast members got lost in it, the moody fake-moor is a triumph of set design, a wasteland of tors and cairns that exhales primordial fog. Without this eerie, menacing setting, the story would lose much of its bite. The hound itself is not spectral or satanic-looking but looks and acts like a vicious, intimidating, and dangerous beast. It comes across as a definite threat.
The ending isn't as strong as it should be: an Agatha Christie-style gather-the-suspects scene has been added, and the production code seems to have prevented the onscreen depiction of the villain’s death. But Holmes’s final line is still a jaw-dropper.
The film deserves its reputation. It started Rathbone on his path to dominate the public's conception of Sherlock Holmes. Not until two decades had passed did a challenger arise...
The Hound of the Baskervilles (1959, Hammer Film Productions)
Peter Cushing proclaimed himself one of the greatest screen Sherlocks with the Hammer version. I had fond childhood memories of it, but this time around I was disappointed. It has an excellent Holmes and revolutionary Watson, but lacks real mood, despite its attempts at horror-mongering. The garish technicolor (with mysterious patches of green lighting in ruins on the moor) doesn’t fit the story. Nor does the moor get its due—some location shots of Dartmoor are thrown in, but the major outdoor scenes are studio-filmed on cramped sets that are less atmospheric than the 1939 production’s. The climax is staged in an enclosed ruin, rather than on the moor itself, and the very unimpressive hound appears almost an afterthought.
The screenplay also has blemishes. Holmes makes fewer deductions, thus weakening the central theme of science versus superstition. Unwisely, Hammer attempts to sensationalize the story by adding tarantulas, busty femme fatales, human sacrifices, cave-ins, and decadent aristocrats. But blackening the Baskervilles works against the story—why is Holmes sticking his neck out for rich bastards who aren’t worth it? The structure is rushed: Holmes absence is barely felt, so his re-appearance doesn’t give any sense of relief. Terence Fisher’s direction is most vivid in the opening flashback; I get the feeling he’d much rather have directed a gory bodice-ripper than a detective story.
But the film is worthwhile for Cushing’s Holmes, who looks most like Doyle’s (aside from being short, but I don't care) and has a flitting, birdlike energy, his eyes shining and mind fizzing with a perpetual puzzles. He’s more professorial than Rathbone and less arrogant, wrapped up in his own mind. Andre Morrell’s casual, amused, and very military Watson marks the first time the character was played straight, rather than as a caricature or bloodless assistant. He’s eminently sensible, a grounding source of calm to Holmes. He’s easily capable of carrying the Holmes-less middle of the story, so it’s a pity this film curtails it. Peter Cushing had better luck--unique among screen Holmeses, he returned in yet another adaptation of the story...
The Hound of the Baskervilles (1968, BBC)
Sherlock Holmes was revived by the BBC in a TV series that began in 1965 with Douglas Wilmer in the role. It was the onscreen first attempt to consistently and faithfully adapt Doyle’s stories. Douglas Wilmer played Holmes in the first season and was succeeded by Peter Cushing kicked off his tenure with this two-part adaptation of the Hound in 1968. He’s mellower than in the 1959 film, but still excellent. His Watson this time is Nigel Stock, a very likable actor whose Watson falls between between Nigel Bruce’s and Morell’s: a duffer who’s smarter than he looks (or sounds). The supporting cast is fine and includes Ballard Berkley (the Major from Fawlty Towers) as Charles Baskerville.
Unfortunately, the BBC’s Holmes show was shot quickly and on the cheap. For very the first time several scenes were filmed on the moors from the story, but not the climactic and most important ones. The climax with the hound was very obviously shot on a tiny soundstage flooded with fog to disguise its smallness. The hound is onscreen for no more than a few seconds and looks like a chunky Rottweiler.
Since this was a 60s production, outdoors scenes were shot on 16mm film and interiors on video; the latter have the cheap sets and sort of blocking and coverage (lots of over-tight close-ups) that were holdovers from the days of live TV. The interiors are too fake and artificial to mesh with the precious few scenes of outdoor film footage. This kills the mood, which is vital in any adaptation of the Hound. A few scenes have even moved been moved indoors from the book.
The script is very faithful to Doyle but terribly wordy—not good when there’s a lack of strong visuals. The show ends super-abruptly, as if the BBC decided the show had exceeded its time slot and cut everything after the villain’s demise. I still enjoyed this production, primarily because of Cushing, but the limitations of 60s TV ensured this Hound could never be a prize animal.
In Part 2 I will move from the 60s to the 80s--and from England to Russia...
Priklyucheniya Sherloka Kholmsa i doktora Vatsona: Sobaka Baskerviley (1981, Lenfilm)
I had misgivings about the Russian version of the Hound of the Baskervilles. What if its supposed greatness was nationalistic hype from the Ruskies? What I initially saw felt terribly strange. How odd to see Sherlock and Watson speaking Russian! And though the filmmakers went to great trouble to get the period look right, the buildings, furnishings, locations, and clothing still looked very Russian.
But by the end I was definitely impressed. The Russians have a reputation for reverent, lavish adaptations of classic literature, and this must be the longest (two and a half hours) and most faithful adaptation of the Hound ever made. It also has the biggest budget—to the shame of the British and Americans, who've cranked out so many cheap versions of the tale! I don’t know what godforsaken part of Russia stood in for the moor, but it was just as desolate and eerie. And what a pleasure to see a version of the Hound with extensive outdoors photography and outdoor nighttime scenes! These are supremely important in sustaining the mood. The hound emerges from genuine darkness; strategically painted, it looks a floating skull. Very effective.
Vasily Livanov plays Sherlock Holmes. I'm still unsure about him: he looks more like an accountant than a detective and croaks his lines, but he expertly exudes Holmes’s quality of slow-burning stillness and projects great intelligence (with a hint of amused cynicism). As for Vitaly Solomin’s Dr. Watson, he is without doubt among the best-ever versions of the character and could have stepped out of Sidney Paget’s illustrations. Solomin has occasional sly glint in his eye—he could just as easily play a master detective as hid sidekick, which gives his Watson authority and charisma. The other roles are similarly well cast. The Russians have some fun with Henry Baskerville (Nikita Mikhalkov) and turn him into a boisterous cowboy, though his emotional volubility is more Cossack than Texan. He provides gentle comic relief and makes the part more memorable than usual.
So, congratulations to the Russians for creating one of the best adaptations of Doyle's novel. The worst I can say is that it doesn't have the vitality of the 1939 film and is a bit slow in comparison. Director Igor Maslennikov occasionally wrings stunning images from the material (such as the man on the Tor, and perhaps the spookiest hound to appear onscreen) but he’s not the most dynamic or pacey director. Neverthless, this handsome, heavy film is gauntlet thrown down to Homes's homeland—if Russia can put this much care and craft into the story, why can’t Britain?
The Hound of the Baskervilles (1983, Mapleton Films)
The great Ian Richardson was an inspired choice for Holmes. Anyone who’s watched the original House of Cards has thrilled to the silvery, spidery coolness of this charismatic actor. His Francis Urquhart was capable of pissing ice water, just as Holmes should be. So it’s disappointing that Richardson’s Sherlock is avuncular and super-smiley, as if the actor was afraid of hinting at the character's darkness. Thankfully there are moments when the happy-face mask slips and one glimpses the sort of magnificent, masterful Holmes that Richardson could have been with more sensitive direction.
Alas, Donald Churchill’s Watson is a harrumphing, bad-tempered throwback to Nigel Bruce. Unlike Bruce, Churchill also comes across as an a**hole. There’s no sense of great friendship or even the slightest camaraderie between him and Richardson's Holmes. The supporting cast is mouth-watering (Nicholas Clay, Brian Blessed, Eleanor Bron, Connie Booth, Denholm Elliott) but gives flat performances.
Douglas Hickox’s direction is initially over-flashy but settles down. Ronnie Taylor cinematography's is at feature film level. Much of the production was filmed on location in Devonshire and the moor scenery is stunning. But like all the non-Russian versions of the story, the climactic scenes with the hound are filmed on a sound-stage with the fog machine working overtime. Luckily the set is good, second only to the 1939 film’s. The hound is a large and imposing black dog, often shown in silhouette with an unsettling white glow in its eyes. The film makes a small mistake in fully revealing the creature before the climax, but the revelation is brief enough for the film to recover.
The script was written by someone who didn’t trust the effectiveness of the original story. A new and very obvious red herring has been introduced, several scenes have been reshuffled, and the script strains to keep the murderer’s identity a secret for too long. Watson’s time as the sole investigator is curtailed—perhaps for the best since he’s so dim in this version, but Holmes’s reappearance no longer comes as a delight. Some scripting decisions make no sense—Lestrade is introduced early on (Watson is uncharacteristically rude to him) yet doesn’t appear at the finale, his only scene in the book.
This is a production with a large enough budget to sustain lavish period settings, though they have the gaudy look that Americans tend to give Victorian England. But this adaptation is caught midway between Rathbone version (it even repeats Holmes’ gypsy disguise) and the Hammer film. So we get an old-fashioned Holmes and Watson alongside vulgarly rendered sex and violence (Sir Hugo takes forever to rape and kill the peasant girl). The basic ingredients to this Hound are good, but the result feels derivative. For a version that ignores earlier films and goes back to Doyle, turn to the following adaptation...
The Hound of the Baskervilles (1988, ITV Granada)
The Granada Sherlock Holmes series starred arguably the best Holmes and Watson of all. Its 1988 version of the Hound should have been the best as well, but it turned out to be a dispiriting disappointment. The series had overspent on earlier episodes and to save money decided to shoot a two hour film instead of two one-hour entries. The tightened budget meant no 17th century flashback to Sir Hugo, no London street chase, no filming in Dartmouth, and no outdoors filming at night. A deadly set of deprivations.
As Holmes Jeremy Brett was eternally brilliant—his line readings show an intense and sensitive study and internalization of Doyle. He alone seems to have turned Sherlock into a convincing human being, rather than a smug human computer. But at the time of filming he was afflicted by ill health (water retention caused by medication for his manic depression). His opening scenes are crisply performed, but his later scenes have less electricity. Edward Hardwicke’s Watson is the only one who seems to have an inner life; there is no doubt about his skill and competence. Kristoffer Tabori is an appealing Sir Henry Baskerville (he looks and sounds like Robbie Robertson) but doesn’t fit the character's strapping westerner image.
Like all the entries in Granada’s Holmes series, this Hound has convincing period detail, more convincing than any other version. This was achieved despite the reduced budget. Location shooting was in Yorkshire instead of Dartmoor; what’s onscreen is a reasonable substitute, but the climactic scenes on the moor were filmed indoors, on a set with a fog machine, like every damn production except the Russian one. The set looks smaller and crummier than all of the other versions (aside from the 1968 Hound), and barely has a nighttime feel. The direction, staging, and editing in these scenes is clumsy and borderline incoherent. Unforgivably, the hound is repeatedly shown multiple times before the climax, and what we see is a glowing Great Dane (accompanied by a fake head that “attacks” Sir Henry in close-up) with dodgy glow-in-the-dark effects.
Away from the moor, the editing and direction are competent but ridiculously slow and plodding. It takes forever for characters to get on and off trains, or move through Baskerville Hall, or enter and exit carriages. The lethargic pacing kills the thrills and the unimaginative direction throws away all the great, dramatic moments of the story—the death of Sir Charles, the man on the tor, Holmes’s reappearance, the unveiling of the Hound, etc. The script, by T.R. Bowen, proficiently compresses and retains much of the original. It shows that Doyle's original structure works on film, or at least would work in a film with greater atmosphere and mood. Granada's Hound is not at all bad--it simply looks mediocre in light of the series's track record.
***
And thus ends my journey though six versions of The Hound of the Baskervilles. I would have liked to review the silent films of the story, but none are available. I'd have loved to see the 1921 version starring Eille Norwood, whose star was praised by none other than Conan Doyle ("On seeing him in The Hound of the Baskervilles I thought I had never seen anything more masterly"). Almost as enticing is the 1929 Der Hund von Baskerville, a late silent version from Germany. Fortunately it will screen at this year's San Francisco Silent Film Festival.
Other versions of the Hound, I skipped for time (Tom Baker's) or because I had no desire to watch them again (like Peter Cook and Dudley Moore's--how could such funny men have made such an unfunny film?) or because I heard they weren't very good (Stewart Granger's). In any case, I have seen enough to give a verdict:
The 1939 film with Basil Rathbone remains the best film of the book, while the award for most faithful and committed adaptation goes to the Russian TV version. Both are excellent, but it's still possible to make an even better adaptation of the book. But to do so five factors are required:
* Not just a charismatic Holmes, but a charismatic Watson. Holmes is absent during much of the story, but this isn't a problem if the audience enjoys watching Watson.
* A screenplay that sticks close to Doyle. His dramatic structure still works, and the story strikes a perfect balance between horror, detection, and drama.
* A decent budget. The story does not work when done cheaply and deprived of convincing period feel and convincing settings.
* Night scenes shot on location, or a vast soundstage that gives the illusion of realism. The minute you place the characters in a blatantly artificial setting, the hound becomes ineffective. The point of the beast is that of supernatural-looking creature [/i]erupting into reality[/i]. Having it appear on a transparently fake setting on is disastrous.
* A genuinely scary and demonic hound. This requires imagination and creativity--you can't just throw a Great Dane in front of the camera. But if you find a suitably intimidating dog, just a bit of paint can go a long way, as in the Russian version.
One stray observation before I end this mega-post: I noticed that all six adaptations left out Holmes’s joyous reaction at discovering the real identity of a certain corpse on the moor. Why?
Paris, Texas got 8.1/10 on imdb.
I think imdb should delete all their ratings and start again.
That would be interesting.
Top movie. Scorsese's best ?
So you decided to finish it after all :). Terrible film.
My own second favorite of his after Taxi Driver.