Short Attention Span Review: Escape from New York (1981)

Let's set the stage for this one.  Yes, John Carpenter is probably my favorite director.  Yes, I think Kurt Russell is an epic leading man, and if we're talking about one of those movies he made with Carpenter, forget about it.  With Escape from New York, Carpenter offered up a dark and witty smash hit and Russell sank his teeth into one of the coolest parts ever as rugged anti-hero Snake Plissken.  The movie is absurd, and it is quite amusing to see our distant past grossly misrepresented as the distant future (the film was shot in 1980 and set in 1997), but it's all in fun.  True story: I once referred to this picture as a cult classic in the presence of a couple of friends who acted like I had gone insane.  They seemed to think it was garbage.  This didn't change my opinion of the movie at all, but it did convince me that these particular buddies of mine didn't know shit about movies.  Seriously, what's missing?  We've got a great hero, an insane plot, a wicked setting, an imposing villain, and a bunch of unique supporting characters to keep things popping.  In Escape from New York, Manhattan has become a maximum security prison, surrounded by a massive wall and patrolled by helicopters that gun down anyone looking to escape.  This seems like a good idea right up until the president's plane crashes in this gruesome wasteland and a desperate rescue attempt ensues.  The only man for the job is Snake Plissken, a decorated veteran and a notorious criminal who everyone believes to be dead.  Carpenter slays it with sublime direction and another of his awesome scores.  Escape from New York is very silly, but it's also very suspenseful when it isn't borderline hilarious, and it oozes cool from start to finish.  Most importantly, it's Kurt Russell's show, and it is entirely possible that this was his finest hour.  Escape from New York is a fantastic motion picture that never fails to entertain, and I can't recommend it highly enough.

Former Disney star Kurt Russell hits the mark as the one and only Snake Plissken

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

It's hard to fathom precisely what it is that makes The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly so compelling.  Surely it's a combination of many things, but is there one essential, one key to the picture's timeless success?  And if so, what would it be?  It is Leone's majesty?  The director's shot composition and pacing are damn near perfect, creating a mood and an atmosphere that is equal parts stark realism and surreal mythology.  Is it Morricone's incredible score?  Surely the music plays a critical role in the operatic nature of the piece, transforming the action playing out so leisurely before us into drama of the highest order.  Or is it that magnificent cast?  Both Eastwood and his effortless cool and Van Cleef and his deathly stare are frequently overshadowed by Wallach's fire and gusto.  Yet these three performances are interwoven to such an extent that (as the title suggests) there is no way to weigh them individually, for none of these powerful figures could be drawn so neatly without the presence of his peers in this celebrated classic.

No, it can't be that one of these ingredients rules the recipe, for what this picture represents is surely a stew, expertly seasoned, never failing to entertain not by virtue of a key component but rather because everything comes together in perfect harmony.  Some classics can't help but age; maybe they were stellar examples of quality films for their era, or perhaps some were vastly overrated to begin with.  Some, however, are cut from such a different cloth and executed to such perfection that they retain all of their glory and wonder throughout the ages.  Nearly fifty years after it revolutionized the western genre, The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly is still fresh and damn near hypnotic, drawing us in and mesmerizing us with a winding tale that never ceases to delight.  That it manages do so can't be explained simply with a nod to Leone, Morricone, or any of the gifted actors who worked wonders with a script that would have fallen flat had one of them lacked the required charisma.  Leone excels, as always, Morricone gives the picture wings, and Eastwood, Van Cleef, and Wallach shine; as a result, there can be no doubt that The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly will forever remain perhaps the finest example of what a western can aspire to be.