Reviewing - Musicals
I've always felt that musicals had an inherent edge in storytelling over traditional films. That's not to say that musicals are always or even usually better than non-musicals, but I think musicals have the potential to tap more deeply into emotion than anything else can. Musicals give us the inner-most thoughts of their characters not just as prose but as poetry, and that's something that I think we can forget when we see a bunch of singing and dancing onscreen. Spectacle is a common feature in musicals, sure. But there's also a tremendous amount of heart-on-sleeve vulnerability. And hey - who doesn't like tapping their toes every now and then?
With the recent passing of Canadian legend Christopher Plummer, I thought we'd kick this off by taking a look at his greatest triumph. I have pretty much nothing but good things to say about all of these films ahead, but can you blame me?
The Sound of Music (*****)
In which a nun becomes a nanny to fight Nazis in song
Flawless. Unrivaled. The only film that ever dared to mix Julie Andrews and Nazis into one incredible story. This is one of the greatest films of all time.
There is so much plot woven into this film that it’s hard to believe they packed it all into just three hours. I seriously believe you could turn this thing into a Netflix limited series without once making the audience feel like you’re padding to fill episodes. Think of how many plotlines are opened, explored, and concluded over the course of this movie. Maria meets the children and teaches them to be children again. The Captain’s heart softens toward music and he becomes a father again. Maria leaves the house because of her growing feelings for Captain Von Trapp, but returns because of her love for the kids and the guidance of her mentor. Maria and Georg fall in love in spite of his engagement, eventually marrying. Nazis annex Austria, prompting Georg and Maria to cut their honeymoon short in order to get back to their children. And finally, the Von Trapp Family Singers perform for the first and last time in order to save their father from conscription into the forces of the Third Reich. That could EASILY make a six-episode series. I’m not necessarily saying this SHOULD happen – I’m just saying that the masterminds behind this film packed what could have been a six-hour story into half the time. That’s crazy. Just think for a second about the last time you saw a film about family, love, and Nazis told with this level of excellence...and award winning music to boot. Films like this simply do not happen.
The fact that Julie Andrews starred in this film just one year after Mary Poppins is the kind of lightning-strikes-twice moment that we rarely see. Harrison Ford might be another one with “Empire Strikes Back” and “Indiana Jones” coming out a year apart from each other, but it certainly doesn’t happen that often that an actor who’s relatively new to the big screen hits two back-to-back home runs. And sure, you can be in a great film, but both of Andrews’ pictures have endured for decades. But even if this film hadn’t remained in the public’s collective memory, Julie’s performance is still incredible. She exudes naivety in one scene and profound wisdom in the next, wild-heartedness here and cool-headedness there. She shows us a girl who wants to get out and see the world, a woman in love, a mother desperate to protect her children – all in ONE MOVIE. I don’t think I’m getting my point across here. You need to watch this movie again.
As great as Julie is, everyone else holds their own as well. The children are adorable and hilarious – with Kurt’s “I wonder what grass tastes like” still making me laugh every time. Liesl is a character who gets a fair amount of spotlight, and it’s so intriguing watching her live through love and loss in the midst of the Nazi takeover. Christopher Plummer’s performance is admittedly more restrained than Julie’s, but that’s partly because of the nature of the role. Either way, he does a good job playing both the rigid sea captain and the loving father. Then there’s the other supporting characters, like Uncle Max, the Baroness, Rolf, and Maria’s fellow nuns. Nobody drops the ball.
One of the things about this film that I never really paid attention to before was the cinematography. The opening shots that take us across the Austrian Alps are stunning, but the filmmakers made sure we saw not only the country’s natural beauty. We also got to see winding paths, sparkling fountains, and beautifully designed buildings of Austria. The “Do Re Mi” sequence in particular was a marvel to watch, as it took as all across the countryside and showed us the kids playing from really creative angles. The bicycle shot where the family basically had a choreographed bike dance was awesome, and the bird’s-eye shot of the children marching around the fountain was great too. To be honest, it’s hard to just highlight a few shots because so many of them are so beautiful they could be paintings. Julie singing through the birch trees, Liesl and Rolf in the gazebo, the Captain and the Baroness talking by the lake – just pause the movie whenever you want, and odds are you’ve got a beautiful picture in front of you.
I have always been a sucker for father-son stories, which is probably why there’s one scene in this movie that makes me cry every time. It’s the moment that Captain Von Trapp hears his children singing. He’s shut himself out of the world of music for so long because of the pain of his first wife’s passing, but here it all comes back to him – and it’s not pain that he feels, but love. Maybe it’s because the music reminds him of his wife, and hearing it through his children is a way of almost bringing her back. Maybe it’s because he’s suddenly realized all that the joy that he’s kept his children from, and hearing it in their voices reignites the joy within himself. Maybe it’s because for just a moment, I got to see a father wake up from a long sleep of stubbornness. Whatever the reason, it’s a beautiful heart-wrenching moment that I haven’t yet managed to get through with clear eyes.
I defy anyone to criticize this masterpiece of a film. This is a show-stopping, heartwarming, risk-taking work of art. You need to watch this again.
The Greatest Showman (****)
In which Hugh Jackman almost makes you forget he can literally murder you with knives hidden between his knuckles
I’m gonna say it and you can get mad if you’d like. This is the greatest show.
My wife is the one who wanted to see this, and I admit that I actually dragged my feet a little bit as we headed to the theater. I love Hugh Jackman, but this seemed like it was going to be super cheesy and hyper-dramatic. But by the time the credits rolled, I was absolutely blown away. We ended up seeing The Greatest Showman at least three times in theaters because we loved it so much. Never before have I been so happy to be proven so wrong about a film.
Sure, the plot is one that we’ve all seen before. A guy gets lost in the spotlight, corrupted by the money and the fame. But when it all comes crashing down, he remembers what really matters and becomes the family man that he was always meant to be. I know we’ve heard that before, but who cares. The plot of this film is not what makes it great. It’s the knock-it-out-of-the-park show-stopping toe-tapping holy-cow-this-is-amazing music that makes this film a must-see. Nearly every song is a home run. “The Greatest Show” is a blast. “A Million Dreams” is a surging emotional triumph. “Come Alive” is a smash. “Never Enough” is a jaw-dropper, “This Is Me” is an anthem, “Rewrite the Stars” is a love song for the ages, and “From Now On” is exactly the kind of Mumford-and-Sons-esque stomping romping good time that I’ve been waiting for ever since that band stopped using banjos (I still haven’t gotten over that, by the way). The only one that I don’t overly care about is “Tightrope”, although the stuff we see onscreen during that song is terrific. The bit where some back-and-forth editing makes us think Zendaya is about to fall and die totally worked on me the first time, and the moment where Barnum’s wife ends up dancing with a shadow broke my heart. There’s so many shots like those ones that are simply stunning, and that’s in no small part due to the fantastic set pieces and costumes. Hugh Jackman’s ring leader outfit is particularly awesome. It’s just so evident how much fun everyone is having. The dances and singing are spectacular, giving the whole film a feel-good vibe that permeates every second of its run time.
It’s true that this film doesn’t say anything new, but I don’t think that’s a huge deal. It’s not always about saying something new if you can say something old but with style. And this movie has a whole lot of style. The amount of confidence that each character has in themselves is emblematic of how the movie feels about itself. The Greatest Showman is no game-changer, but it’s a film that goes for gold by being unapologetically itself.
The Wizard of Oz (****)
In which a girl falls asleep and wakes up
As one of the most widely known motion pictures of all time, The Wizard of Oz still inspires whimsy, delight, and wonder over eighty years later.
Like pretty much everyone who reads this review (not that there are many of you), I’d seen this film many times when I was younger. It’s a film that was on TV all the time, and my family had a copy of it on VHS somewhere in the basement. As a result, this film was a part of my childhood in much the same way that many of Disney’s animated features were. Every major character and every iconic line of dialogue was still fresh in my mind when I sat down to re-watch this for the first time in probably at least ten years.
Based on the book by Frank Baum, this is one of those seemingly rare occasions where the filmmakers absolutely nailed their adaptation. Check out this excerpt from Chapter One of the original book:
When Dorothy stood in the doorway and looked around, she could see nothing but the great gray prairie on every side…The sun had baked the plowed land into a gray mass, with little cracks running through it. Even the grass was not green, for the sun had burned the tops of the long blades until they were the same gray color to be seen everywhere. Once the house had been painted, but the sun blistered the paint and the rains washed it away, and now the house was as dull and gray as everything else.
Baum envisioned Kansas as a gray, lifeless place – and then gave us the land of Oz, which was profoundly doused in colour. As an author, he went to great lengths to showcase the brilliant colours of this fantasy world. Switching the film from sepia tones to full colour was a brilliant way to accentuate this aspect of Baum’s book, but it’s more than that. This film was released in the same decade that ‘Technicolor’ was really beginning to take off. More than just being a way to stay true to the book, this symbolized the changing landscape of the film industry. Colour was here, and black-and-white was looking more and more like the lifeless Kansas that Baum envisioned.
The songs and sets in this movie are quite obviously fantastic. “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”, “Ding, Dong, The Witch Is Dead”, and “We’re Off To See The Wizard” are three of the most memorable hits, but all in all there isn’t a single song that I think falls flat. Then there’s Munchkinland, Oz’s palace, and the Witch’s castle – each an exciting location in their own way. It really is Munchkinland that steals the show, though. That’s in no small part because of the Munchkins – the actors and actresses behind that extravaganza of song and dance breathe so much life into the setting, and each little segment is barrels of fun. I’ve never forgotten “The Lollipop Guild”.
As someone who loves unpacking the deeper significance behind stories, I thought a lot about how this film’s perspective fits within a Christian worldview. It’s not hard to see Oz as a symbol of religious authority. Maybe he’s God, or maybe he’s just a pastor or priest. Either way, it’s clear that a lot of people seem to be blindly following his orders and putting their trust in him even when they’ve never seen him.
“Nobody can see the Great Oz!” An Emerald City guard exclaims to Dorothy and her gang. “Nobody’s ever seen the Great Oz! Even I’ve never seen him!”
“Well, then,” Dorothy replies. “How do you know there is one?”
We’re meant to view the Emerald City citizens as basically sheep – or if not sheep, they at least have the wool pulled over their eyes. They’re believing in a lie that makes them feel better in a world of witches and dark magic. Dorothy’s looking for salvation, but as it turns out, the wizard is nothing but a man – and what she really needed was with her all along.
I’m not saying that The Wizard of Oz explicitly sets out to endorse an atheistic worldview. What I am saying is that the film thematically rejects placing trust in unquestioned positions of authority – and as Christians, this might ruffle a few feathers. If you’re a Christian, does that make you automatically a citizen of the Emerald City? Or are you a Scarecrow who’s leaning on the crutch of a higher power in order to find purpose? Where Dorothy finds purpose – and indeed salvation – is not in a great leader, but in her friends and in her own inner strength. You could argue, I suppose, that Glinda, the Good Witch, is the authority figure that saves Dorothy. But I think Glinda really serves as an expositional means of highlighting Dorothy’s own power to shape her destiny. Now, with all of that said, is this a fair comparison to make? Are Christians really like the Emerald Citizens? I think some of us can be. The Emerald Citizens placed their trust in a character they didn’t know. Some people blindly follow a religious perspective not because of a relationship with God, but because of the way that perspective makes them feel. However, I don’t think all Christians are like this. I like to think that this is actually untrue for most of us. I hope that for most of us, our faith is in a very present God. Your Oz may not be God, but whoever he is, I hope you’ve seen him. For Christians especially, I hope that your relationship with Jesus is the reason you trust him – not your comfortability with your current quality of life.
And another thing – this film’s moral is very different from most family films of today. If you look at Moana, The Lego Movie, or How To Train Your Dragon, you see characters who are living in a community that is inherently broken in one way or another. Moana’s people are no longer voyagers. Emmet’s people have embraced uniformity over diversity. Hiccup’s people hate dragons. But in each film, our hero manages to save the day by establishing a NEW status quo. The home community is different and better by the end of the film. There isn’t a total rejection of the home, but the home definitely leaves some outdated ideas behind.
The Wizard of Oz doesn’t do that. Before getting sucked up into the twister, Dorothy feels like nobody understands her. Her dog, Toto, is going to be taken away by the wicked Miss Gulch, and none of her friends seem to be doing much more than giving her advice for the future. Then she goes to Oz, has her adventure, and then wakes up. But what about Toto? By the end of the movie, Toto is still in danger of being taken away by Miss Gulch. We are presented with no reason to think that he’ll be saved. What’s more, Dorothy’s home hasn’t changed a bit. The only thing that’s changed is her own perspective. The movie affirms the value of home just as modern family films do, but this movie doesn’t seem to acknowledge how her home may be flawed in some small or big way.
There’s probably an essay somewhere in there, but I think for today we’ve gone far enough. This film is a treasure from beginning to end.
Les Miserables (*****)
In which Anne Hathaway almost makes you forget that Hugh Jackman could end your life with any object in the room
Heartbreaking doesn’t begin to describe it, and a word as simple as beautiful doesn’t do it justice. This is a stunning film.
When I watched this for the first time, I had never seen the musical before. I only knew “I Dreamed A Dream” from Susan Boyle’s breakthrough performance on Britain’s Got Talent. Essentially, I went in totally cold, having no idea what to expect. And honestly, in that first watch, I remember distinctly thinking to myself,
“This might just be my new favourite movie.”
From the very first shot, the scale was incredible. Watching Jean Valjean and a horde of prisoners pull in a galleon was absolutely epic. The music – obviously – was amazing. Sure, there was a bit of a learning curve in accepting that virtually every line would be sung and not spoken, but I got the hang of it pretty quick. As the movie surged forward, it was just grief after grief after grief. It’s obviously not called “Les Miserables” for nothing. This film is about people with horrible lives, plain and simple. But what makes this such a great picture is the beauty that is woven through every verse and shot. The poetry of the dialogue is magnificent, with poignant lines found in nearly every scene. The sets and locations are lavish in their depiction of poverty, and although the setting is very much a place you don’t want to visit, you can’t help but marvel at the attention to detail. But most of all, the story is just absolutely jaw-dropping. There’s many plots and minor characters with storylines that parallel the main thread, but the main story is that of Jean Valjean. Valjean is a man who has been changed by an act of kindness – and for the duration of the film, he is presented time and time again with challenges that threaten to pull him back to the moral darkness of his past. Every time, he has the chance to do the wrong thing. But every time, he makes the hard choice – even when it looks like it will cost him everything. Valjean is the kind of guy I want to be like. You know, minus the lifetime of turmoil and strife, I guess.
Then there’s Fantine, played masterfully by Anne Hathaway. The first time I watched this, I cried at her Oscar-Winning rendition of “I Dreamed A Dream”. The second time I watched this, I cried during her song and again when we see her at the end of the film. By the third time I watched this, I started crying the moment she appeared on screen. I’ve never seen a more heartbreaking story than Fantine’s in film. There’s a line she sings in her big song that still wrecks me every time I hear it.
“There are dreams that cannot be. And there are storms we cannot weather.”
What breaks me is how real her story is – how many women throughout history (even today) have suffered the same story that she has. I just don’t see how you could be stone-faced in light of such suffering. Tragic is too small a word. As majestic as this film is, I can’t in good conscience recommend it to everyone simply because of how brutal the story is. Especially if you’ve experienced some of the trauma that’s present in this film, this thing might hit a little too close to home for you.
Just as Fantine is the saddest character I’ve ever seen, Marius is probably my favourite Romeo-type character ever. He’s the young, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed kid who falls in love at first sight. We see stuff like that all the time in film. And usually what happens is the kid moves mountains and does whatever it takes to win the affections of his true love. I’ve seen stories where the Romeo quits his job, or leaves his family, or closes his restaurant, cheats on his girlfriend, or literally kills himself in the name of love. That last one was actually THE Romeo, by the way. But how often do you see a film where a love-stricken young man puts his desire to the side in favour of fighting for a higher call? I was blown away by that. Marius decided he’d rather stand side-by-side with his friends to fight for a free France than run away with the woman he loves. We rarely see romantic love take second place as motivation in a story, and I admire this film so much for it. I don’t want to knock true love. I’m married to mine and I’d die for her without question. (Well, maybe I’d ask for alternatives that didn’t involve death). But I recognize that sometimes in order to do what’s right, we must be prepared to give up the things we want the most. True believers know what I’m talking about.
So yeah, Valjean’s great, and so are Fantine and Marius. But then there’s Javert to contend with.
Before I say anything else about the guy who obsesses over petty bread thieves, I want to speak out against some of the hate that Russel Crowe’s gotten for his performance. A lot of people have said that his singing sucks. Maybe it does – I’m not a connoisseur of the art form myself. But to my ears, he hits his notes. More importantly, he plays the part convincingly. When you’re watching the show live, you want singers that sound good. But when you’re watching a movie, it’s the acting that’s the most crucial. I think Crowe does this, so I’ve never quite understood the hate he got for this performance. And man, what a character to work with. If Valjean is Batman, Javert is his Joker. Maybe putting it the other way around actually makes more sense; Valjean’s one rule is love, and Javert is all rules and nothing else. The way these two characters dance around each other time and time again is thrilling, their ideologies carrying them from one scenario to the next where they’re continually forced to make hard decisions. I love the musical parallel between Valjean’s soliloquy and Javert’s at the end of the film. Where Valjean is a recipient of an act of love and it prompts him to radical change, Javert finds himself able to grant mercy to others but not to himself. It’s his rigidity that proves to be his own undoing.
I could unpack so many different aspects of this film. We could talk about the director’s choice to let us witness Javert’s final moments even to the exact moment of death. We could pull an entire sermon out of Fantine’s song, or one of the final lines of the film, “To love another person is to see the face of God”. We could talk about what it means when Valjean answers “Who am I” with “I’m Jean Valjean.” There’s essay after essay to be written here, but instead I’ll end with this.
I have been blessed at every stage of my life to have people who have loved me unconditionally. It is through that love that I am now able to love others. This movie goes to show how powerful an act of unconditional love can be, and how horrible the world becomes without it. If you take anything away from this film, let it be this: love people, all the time, no matter what. God will judge the wicked and reward the righteous some day. But for now, our job is to love people so that they have the chance to love others.
Wow. What a movie.
Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (****)
In which a guy from a hundred years ago with less than 30 bucks builds a flying boat-car and gets married
It’s outrageously cheesy, but a hysterical cast and a scrumptious soundtrack make this a classic that not enough people talk about.
If you’ve never heard of this movie before, here’s a couple names that might help convince you it’s worth a shot. Dick Van Dyke (Mary Poppins’ Bert among other iconic roles) is the lead. Roald Dahl (the guy who wrote Charlie and the Chocolate Factory among other classic books) co-wrote the screenplay, which is based off the book by Ian Fleming (the guy who created James Bond). Oh yeah, and the soundtrack was written by the guys who wrote the music for Mary Poppins, Winnie the Pooh, and the infamous song “It’s A Small World”. You may not know the Sherman Brothers by name – or by face – but I guarantee you’ve heard at least one of those songs before.
Perhaps it’s because of the nostalgia, but I love every single track (save one) in this film. The title song is incredibly catchy, and “You Two”, “Toot Sweets”, “Me Ole Bamboo”, “Truly Scrumptious”, “Posh”, and “The Roses of Success” are all absolute hits. “What A Lovely Man” is the only one that’s a bit of a waste of time – but everything else is just terrific. They’re intensely infused with a sense of fun and whimsy, in much the same way as many songs from the Disney classic are. If you love Mary Poppins, then this is right up your alley.
Now, as much as I love this film, it’s not perfect. The opening sequence is wayyy too long. They’re basically showing us how the car that will become Chitty started off as a winning racecar, but they do so by showing us race after race after race. I suppose if it had been executed differently it would’ve been more fun, but this segment just got old fast for me. Then there’s the insane cheesiness that pervades the story. I can handle a fair bit of cheese, but when our leading lady exclaimed “so dreams CAN come true” after kissing Dick Van Dyke, I wanted to throw up a little bit. Beyond that, the bulk of this narrative takes place within a made-up story that Van Dyke’s character tells. If we’re to understand everything within that story as fictitious within the world of the film, then that means he and Miss Scrumptious got engaged literally a day or two after meeting. If Disney’s Queen Elsa were dead, she’d be turning in her grave.
And speaking of Scrumptious, it’s a shame they couldn’t land Julie Andrews for this film. That’s not to say that the leading lady did a bad job. It’s just that she’s not Julie Andrews – and if she were, I think this film would be much bigger in the mind of the general public. Sorry, Sally Ann Howes.
But I can’t help but love this movie anyway. Dick Van Dyke gives a legendary performance as an out-of-luck inventor. He’s charming, cantankerous, compassionate, and charismatic throughout the film. His “Ole Bamboo” dance is a world of fun in the same vein as “Step In Time” from Mary Poppins, released four years earlier. The inventions depicted in the film are also wonderfully creative, and they turn up over and over throughout the film. Then there’s his adorable kids, his looney father, and the evil Baron Bomburst. Bomburst in particular gets to deliver some incredible lines of dialogue, like the moment he’s suddenly trying to shoot his wife out the sky while chuckling “I’ve been waiting for this for twenty years”. There’s just so much fun in this film. Well, apart from the Child Catcher. He’s one villain you won’t ever forget – he’s horrifying for every second he’s on the screen.
My wife doesn’t care for this movie in the slightest, and I know she’s far from the only one. For some, it may be just a bit too old school, just a bit too corny, just a bit too long, and just a bit too off-putting from time to time. But for me - to use the vernacular – it’s wizard. It’s smashing. It’s keen. It’s a whimsical joyride with all the charm of Mary Poppins, and I really think you ought to give it a shot.
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