Problem: OPTIONS:
- negative
- positive positive
=++++=
Answer: The books of James Michener taking readers to faraway places with strange sounding names were probably at their most popular in the 1940s and 1950s. His Tales of the South Pacific became a major blockbuster Broadway hit for Rodgers&Hammerstein. South Pacific was directed by Joshua Logan and he was a natural to do the film adaption of another Michener success, Sayonara.

It was only a decade before that American films during World War II did not portray the Japanese kindly. I'm sure it wasn't easy for people who fought the Pacific war to change attitudes overnight. That and a general no fraternization policy with occupied peoples in general are at the crux of this story about interracial romance.

Sayonara is a relevant film today. The military has always butted in to the personal lives of its personnel in ways no civilian employer could get away with legally. In America at the time Sayonara was made there were still miscegenation laws on the books in many states. Today gays in the military is a big issue. Someone may one day do a Sayonara like film on that issue.

Joshua Logan was on familiar ground. South Pacific also had racism as a component of its plot. With a sure hand, Logan assembled a great cast and crafts a beautiful story.

Marlon Brando, Patricia Owens, James Garner, Kent Smith some of the occidental players do a fine job. But the picture is stolen by the orientals here. Miko Taka hits the mark beautifully as Brando's love interest. But the real stars are the two that one both Supporting players Oscars, Red Buttons and Miyoshi Umeki.

Buttons is your everyman enlisted man Air Force member. He falls passionately in love with Katsumi played by Miyoshi Umeki. They marry and the military cruelly does everything they can to break them up. They presume to KNOW what's best for Buttons and Umeki. Buttons was a TV comedian and a fair talent, but he never got a part as good as this the rest of his career.

And Miyoshi Umeki's Oscar was the first one given to an oriental. It got a great deal of attention because at the time of the Academy Awards, Miyoshi was starring on Broadway in Flower Drum Song. I was privileged to see it on Broadway, it was the first Broadway show I ever saw. I still carry the memory of it.

That Oscar symbolized something else too. Our war with Japan was really over and we saw in Sayonara a great nation with a proud tradition and culture.

Ricardo Montalban plays Nakamura, a Kabuki Theatre actor. If Sayonara were done today, Logan would never get away with it. But Montalban is fine.

Good location photography and a grand story. This film should be revived more often it has a great moral.

Problem: OPTIONS:
- negative
- positive positive
=++++=
Answer: Where the Sidewalk Ends (1950)

Where One Ends, Another Begins

This is a prototypical film noir, and as such, pretty flawless, from both style and content points of view. The photography and night settings are first rate (cinematographer Joseph LaShelle lets the drama ooze in scene after scene), and the close-ups on faces pure expressionism. I can watch this kind of film for the visuals alone, even when the actors struggle and the plot stinks.

But the acting is first rate here, and the plot features what I consider the core of most noir films, the alienated male lead (representing the many men returning home to a changed United States after the war and feeling lost themselves). In fact, not only is Dana Andrews really convincing as the troubled, loner detective, he has a small but important counterpart in the film, the lead female's (first) husband, an decorated ex-GI fallen onto hard times and booze. The fact the one man kills the other might be of monumental significance, overall-- the regular guy struggling through his inner problems to success while the medal-wearing soldier slips into an accidental death with a silver plate in his head. The woman transitions from one to the other--we assume they marry and have children as suggested earlier in the movie. Even if this is pushing an interpretation onto it after the fact, we can still see the path of one man with some psychological baggage careening through a crisis to the highest kind of moral order--turning himself in for a small crime just at the point he has actually gotten away with it.

This movie belongs to Andrews. He plays a far more restrained and moving type than Kirk Douglas plays in a similar role in William Wyler's Detective Story made just one year later, and Andrews certainly is less theatrical. You could easily see both movies side by side for a textbook compare and contrast session. The fact that Andrews as Detective Dixon is morally struggling through it all, and Douglas as Detective McLeod is not, might explain why one man gets his girl and the other doesn't. Gene Tierney pulls off a hugely sympathetic, demurring, and ultimately conventional and "pretty" type of woman--not just a cardboard desirable, but someone you want Dixon to actually marry.

The criminal plot is really secondary to the main drama, but is effective enough in its play with types and cliches. The bit parts are kept snappy, the small details (like the portable craps table) nice touches, far from the character actors or the glamour of gambling in Casablanca. But then, Curtiz's great movie is iconic even in the details--it makes no effort to be subtle and real and penetrating, but instead is sweeping and memorable and inspiring. They come at opposite ends of the war, and represent opposite possibilities for their leading men. Bogart is beginning his active duty, Dixon, and the man Dixon has killed, are all through. Through, thoroughly, but not washed up.

It's no accident that many, possibly most, film noirs have what you would call "happy" endings. The man overcomes his adversaries and transforms his inner self, and the moviegoer, then and now, understands just how beautiful that must feel.

Problem: OPTIONS:
- negative
- positive negative
=++++=
Answer:
I watched DVD 1 only. The program proper may have 10 minutes of good information; otherwise it's snotty putdowns of religious people. It's as if director Brian Flemming only recently discovered both atheism and sarcasm, and feels with these tools he can easily bludgeon his opposition.

Also, Flemming wanders extensively into his own personal issues, and they take over the movie. It never gets back on topic.

Religious people are prone to discount skeptics when their objections to religion are obviously rooted in abusive upbringings. Arguments from such victimized people seem irrational, and therefore unconvincing.

Anti-religious people will want more data. We don't need to be told that religious people are nutty, any more than American Jews need to be told how annoying Christmas music gets by mid-December.

In the best scene, the Superintendent of Fleming's childhood Christian school rather insightfully confronts the director on his motivations. That seems like the most honest part of the movie, and it was too short.

If Fleming were a bit more self-aware, he might have a good story in him about his own (past & current) relationship to Christianity, and the abusive institutions that indoctrinated him in his youth.

And perhaps he could lend his "Christ never walked the earth" material to a more serious documentarian. I'm not studying the writings of Saul/Paul to find out how air-tight this all is, but a quick browse of Wikipedia suggests most of these arguments are discredited.

The bonus interviews are pretty good, tho they don't bolster Fleming's thesis much. Sam Harris is a good spokesperson for the anti-religious POV, and he doesn't go light on those other, non-Christian religions. Harris also has some good (and easily Google'd) interviews on Salon.com , Amazon.com , and Samharris.org .