Dr. M and I hail from a generation when the reviews of
influential film critics played a determinative role in which movies you
decided to see. Social media changed
that, the availability of many critical reactions diluting the formerly dominating
voices of the Siskels, the Eberts and the Kaels.
Despite today’s proliferation of opinions, we still adhere
to the newspaper reviews. Why? Habit and laziness. And you don’t have to access an “app”. (Or is it an “ap”? You can’t do it if you can’t spell it.) Using the paper, you go to the “Entertainment
Section” and there it is. There’s
nothing to it. You just need to know how
to read.
Most movies debut on Fridays, to take advantage of the
weekend attendance. Friday mornings, we
open the paper, we check out the latest movie reviews, and if they like
something, we go, often that very evening, because our lives are relatively
empty.
The trouble is, many veteran film critics, forced to sit
through uninspired programming tailored to… not
them… end up as a consequence overpraising any movie that is not fast and furious, in which no major
municipality is decimated.
Then we go to the
movie they recommended, and it’s like, “They went crazy about that?”
I feel sorry for film critics. They signed on for the job because they were
passionate about movies. The movie
business then took a profits-maximizing “Right” and now they’re critiquing Armageddonal carnage and capes.
No Marty. No Alice
Doesn’t Live Here Anymore. (There are
still a few Wes Andersons, Richard Linklaters and Nicole Holofceners making
personal movies, but mostly it’s “We blew up ‘The Mother Ship’ real good! Then we hired a comedy writer to throw in
some memorable punchlines. “Oh
really. You’re cold.” Star Wars – 2015)
All this to introduce my reaction to The Tenth Man, a slight, Argentinian movie over-hyped by a
beleaguered Los Angeles film critic because it’s about ordinary people rather
than the end of the world as we know it.
In The Tenth Man,
a former denizen of Buenos Aires returns from New York to introduce his scheduled-to-arrive
girlfriend to his father, but his girlfriend is delayed permanently in New York
and his father is too busy to meet with him.
The lead character is played, not by a Channing Tatum lookalike, but by a balding, bulging
middle-aged actor, a physiognomical cross between Louie C.K. and Jason
Alexander.
There is no chance of this man becoming an international
heartthrob. Which is the essence his
“Everyman” appeal, reflective of the film’s overall ambience, reminiscent of an
unmade Argentinian bed.
The guy’s preoccupied father heads up not the South American counterpart of a Fortune 500 corporation but an overtaxed (Jewish) volunteer
community trying to help their needy constituents any possible way they
can. (Finding Velcro sneakers for a man
too ill to tie his own laces. Lifting
needed prescription drugs from the empty apartments of recently deceased community
members who passed away with a few pills still remaining in the pharmacy bottles.)
As the narrative unfolds, the “lost” visitor gradually
relaxes, surrendering to the needs of the community as well as its cultural, Jewish
underpinnings.
I like these kinds of movies, a spiritually impacted person awakened
to life’s nourishing possibilities. It
doesn’t have to be Jewish, or religious in any traditional way. One of my favorite films is Bill Forsyth’s Local Hero (1983), where the lead
character, a no-nonsense American businessman discovers wonder and redemption
in the genuine simplicity of Scottish villagers, augmented by magical meteor
showers.
It’s nice watching someone transitioning from empty to
fulfilled. (I find “There’s hope for
everyone” to be is a resonating message.)
Nobody rescues the universe in The
Tenth Man. But they were able to procure meat for the Purim
celebration.
Which in its life-sized way is equally heroic.
And there you have it – an “Okay-Plus” movie (for me, Dr. M
didn’t care for it) with a holiday accomplishment. And for the lucky few of us, a bonus, liturgical sing-along.
Everybody!
“gahC miruP, gahC
miruP,
gahC hehpaY midaliY’L…”
*
(* Written right to left for your Hebraical convenience.)
Your liturgical mirup song gave me the biggest and best laugh of the month
ReplyDeleteThanks
Alan