We're No Angels (1955)

We're No Angels is one of my favorite Christmas movies. It's a film with escaped prisoners - thieves and murderers - who enter the store and home of the Ducatel family, intent on robbing and murdering them, but are instead reformed and redeemed by the spirit of the Christmas. It's also the only Christmas story I know of wherein two characters die and everybody's lives are made better by their passing. Odd, I know, but it all works in Michael Curtiz's little known-gem of a movie.

Joseph (Humphrey Bogart), Jules (Peter Ustinov) and Albert (Aldo Ray) have escaped from prison in French Guyana and made their way into the port city of Cayene. Jules picks the pocket of a young naval officer and finds only a letter addressed to Felix Ducatel (Leo G. Carroll). The trio decide to deliver the letter themselves in order to get a reward. Once at Felix's store, Joseph signs them on to repair the leaky roof. He reasons that after dark, the three of them can sneak down into the store, kill the Ducatel's and steal everything they need to escape. From the roof, they spy on the Ducatels and discover that Felix, his wife Amelie (Joan Bennett), and daughter Isabelle (Gloria Talbott) are in serious trouble. Felix went bankrupt back in Paris, and he was bailed out by his evil cousin Andre Trochard (Basil Rathbone). In return for the favor, Cousin Andre took everything Felix owned and sent him to French Guyana to run Andre's store. But Felix has a poor head for business, the store is losing money, and Cousin Andre is threatening to throw Felix out.

The letter that the convicts delivered to Felix reveals that Cousin Andre and his nephew Paul (John Baer) have arrived in Cayenne and are waiting in quarantine on the ship in the harbor. The only person who is thrilled by this news is Isabelle, who is in love with Paul. When she reads in the letter that Paul is to marry another woman for financial gain, she faints. The three desperate criminals rush to her aide. Albert and Jules carry Isabelle to her room, while Joseph - an embezzler and forger - begins looking over Felix's books. The trio begin to take pity on the Ducatels, who are nice people caught in a horrible situation, and they decide to make the Ducatels' Christmas just a little bit better. Joseph steals a Turkey for dinner, while Jules steals flowers from the governor's garden. They cook the Christmas dinner and decorate the house. They even clean up after dinner, the whole time claiming that they're going to kill and rob the Ducatels just as soon as they wash the dishes. After the Ducatels have gone to bed, Cousin Andre and Paul arrive, and the fun really begins.

Andre is the epitome of the wrench, grasping, money-grubbing miser. He has no time for sentiment - it has no cash value. All he cares about is the bottom line, and Felix's is underlined in red ink. Joseph does what he can to help hide Felix's poor business sense, while the others attempt - without much success - to play match-maker between Isabel and Paul. When Andre discovers that the inventory doesn't tally up, he threatens to have Felix arrested. Joseph, Jules and Albert decide that Cousin Andre has lived too long, so they hold a trial, find him guilty and sentence him to death. While they're trying to decide how to kill Andre, he takes Albert's only possession - a small wooden cage containing an extremely lethal viper named Adolph. What follows is one of the best scenes in the movie, as the three calmly try to decide who is going to rush in and tell Andre not to open the cage. By the time they decide, it's too late. That night Joseph forges a new will, dividing Andre's estate evenly between Paul and Felix, but Paul destroys the will in the morning. Without a will, Paul - as Andre's closest relative - will inherit the entire estate. As our trio tries to figure out what to do about Paul, he unexpectedly discovers Adolph lurking in one of Andre's pockets, and the Ducatels are minus another nasty relative. Joseph forges another will, leaving everything to Felix. Then the three of them play match-maker once again, fixing up Isabel with the handsome, young naval officer whose pocket they picked the day before. By the end, Isabel is in love, Felix and Amelie are wealthy, and Joseph, Jules and Albert are new men.

We're No Angels is a wonderful story of redemption. The spirit of Christmas works its magic on these three hardened criminals. At the beginning, they'll stop at nothing to escape from Devil's Island. By the end, they're doing everything in their power to help three complete strangers upon whom they have taken pity. Humphrey Bogart turns in a great performance as the forger Joseph, who was convicted of fraud for selling stock in an "air factory." Aldo Ray is great as the lusty Albert, who killed his uncle when he wouldn't loan him the money he needed to impress a young woman. Basil Rathbone turns in his standard performance as the cold, distant, unfeeling Andre Trochard. But it's Peter Ustinov that steals every scene he's in as the lovable Jules, who murdered his wife on Christmas day for "giving a friend a Christmas present."

We're No Angels is also one of the funniest movies I've ever seen. The humor is subtle though, the lines delivered in a dead-pan way that makes the jokes all the more funny. When Amelie asks Joseph if he can spare her a few minutes of his time, he replies, "A man condemned to life can always spare a few minutes." When Jules goes off to steal the flowers from the governor's garden, Albert reminds him not to step on the grass. "Of course I won't step on the grass," Jules tells him. "What do you take me for." And when Andre dies, Felix tells Joseph, "It's true I never liked my cousin, only because he was not likeable. He had a number of good points, I'm sure. I just can't think of any at the moment." There's also a great running gag with Jules opening locks by simply feeling the locked object and tapping it just right. And so it goes for the entire 108 minute runtime. So if you're looking for a fun, lighthearted, feel-good movie for the holiday, then I strongly suggest you check out We're No Angels. But be careful. You too might fall in love with these three hardened criminals.

We're No Angels is rated G and is filmed in Technicolor.

Christmas in Connecticut (1945)

Elizabeth Lane (Barbara Stanwyck) is a food writer for a best-selling women's magazine. In her articles, she provides fantastic recipes and waxes poetic about the joys of living on her Connecticut farm and taking care of her husband and baby. When the magazine's owner, Alexander Yardley (Sidney Greenstreet), decides that a Elizabeth should host a real-life war hero at her farm for Christmas, the trouble begins. You see, Elizabeth doesn't really live on a farm in Connecticut, she isn't married, she doesn't have a baby, and - worst of all - she can't even cook. For years, she's been getting all of her recipes from her old friend Felix (S. Z. "Cuddles" Sakall - how can you not love someone named Cuddles?). Felix is a refugee from Czechoslovakia, who set up a restaurant in New York City with help from Elizabeth. Now, Felix cooks meals for her so she won't starve and provides her with her award-winning recipes. She bases all the stuff about the farm on one owned by her friend and would-be suitor John Sloan (Reginald Gardner). When Sloan hears about her predicament, he sees a way to finally coerce Elizabeth to the alter. He'll let her use his farm to entertain Yardley and the war hero if she'll agree to marry him. Felix and her editor, Dudley Beecham (Robert Shayne), try their best to dissuade Elizabeth - after all, she doesn't love Sloan - but she feels she has no other choice. It's take Sloan up on his offer or lose her job.

The real fun begins when the war hero, Jefferson Jones (Dennis Morgan), shows up at the farm house. Elizabeth is instantly smitten. Yup! It's love at first sight. Only problem is that Elizabeth is supposedly already married to Sloan, and she supposedly has a baby. Jones caring for her baby and later singing to her clinches the deal. What's a girl to do? Well, keep putting off the ever-persistent Sloan while flirting shamelessly with Jefferson Jones. The animals help her out quite a bit with this. A cow that wanders into the kitchen one evening provides an excuse for her and Jones to walk that cow back to the barn and be alone together. This leads to them canoodling in a snow bank. Go figure. Later, when they decide to sit in a one-horse open sleigh, the horse wanders off with them in tow, giving our love-struck couple yet another opportunity for some serious flirtation. Yardley sees them together, and he's furious. He fires Elizabeth, but Felix changes his mind by bribing him with food. Smart man, Felix is.

Christmas in Connecticut is a funny movie, in more ways than one. Yeah, it has a lot of funny moments and funny lines, like when Felix, upon seeing Elizabeth's new mink coat, comments that, "Nobody needs a mink coat but the mink." But this movie is funny in other ways too. Yes, it's a Christmas movie (or maybe I should say a holiday movie) but the opening scene is of a German u-boat sinking an American destroyer. And the first 20 minutes of the film revolve around the survivors of that attack - Jones and Seaman Sinkewicz (Frank Jenks). And while Jefferson and Elizabeth never get around to actually kissing, this was still heady stuff for 1945. Jones doesn't know that Elizabeth isn't married, so this is about as close as you can get to adultery in 1945 without actually committing it. The film also explores some real gender-bender issues like the career woman who can't cook or care for children, and the men who can obviously do both. But all in all, this is a great little movie that's really a lot of fun. Stanwyck is utterly radiant as Elizabeth Lane, and Sydney Greenstreet - always a favorite of mine - is great as her bellicose boss. Cuddles Sakall is charming as the wise and kindly Felix, who feeds people's hearts as well as their stomachs.

Christmas in Connecticut was directed by Peter Godfrey, and it's rated G. It's filmed in glorious black-and-white and has a runtime of 102 minutes.

Holiday Inn (1942)

Oh yeah! It's Christmas movie time. And I decided to start out my pantheon of Christmas films with this little nugget from 1942. Mark Sandrich's Holiday Inn, starring Bing Crosby, Fred Astaire, and Marjorie Reynolds, with music by the great Irving Berlin. This film has it all folks. Singing, dancing and romance. It's the movie that first introduced the classic song White Christmas. It's the first movie I know of that deconstructs itself, pulling away the third wall, letting us see the actual sound stage on which the film is filmed while it is filming. And it's funny, with Crosby quipping such one-liners as, "Right now we've got the ledger in an iron lung." My fifteen-year-old daughter laughed her head off while watching it the other night. Unfortunately, it is also one of the most racist movies you will ever see, with Crosby and Reynolds performing in black face, and incomparable Louise Beavers forced to sing about how Abraham Lincoln "set the darkies free." Some of these scenes will literally set your teeth on edge. But bight down and bear through it. Remind yourself that performers like Beavers and Hattie McDaniel paid their dues and paved the road for the likes of Denzel Washington and Halle Barry. Besides, the rest of the film is worth the watching.

Jim Hardy (Crosby), Ted Hanover (Astaire) and Lila Dixon (Virginia Dale) are an entertaining trio, singing and dancing their lives away. But Ted wants to retire and live on a farm in Connecticut. Ted is engaged to Lila, who wants fame and fortune, so she decides to jilt Jim on Christmas Eve and stay with Ted. Jim goes off alone to live the good life on the farm. But farm living isn't all it's cracked up to be, and before the year is out Jim is in a sanitarium for his nerves. When he gets out, he's got a great idea for his farm. He'll turn it into Holiday Inn - a restaurant and dance hall that's only open on holidays. He hires up-and-coming singer and dancer Linda Mason (Reynolds) to perform with him, and the place opens to rave reviews on New Year's Eve. Unfortunately, Lila breaks off her engagement with Ted on New Year's Eve too, and a besotted Ted shows up at the inn, dances a fabulous number with Linda, before passing out cold on the dance floor. When he comes to the next morning, he remembers he found a great new dance partner, but he doesn't remember what she looked like. Now all of the pieces are on the board and the game is in motion. Ted tries to figure out who the mysterious dancing lady is, and Jim tries to foil his attempts at every turn. Once Ted learns that Linda is his "new partner," he tries everything in the world to get her away from Jim. In the end, Jim's own desperation causes him to sabotage Linda's opportunity to try out in front of a Hollywood talent scout, and she leaves Jim for Ted and Hollywood.

That's all I'm going to tell you about the story. If you want to see how it's all resolved and who wins the girl in the end, you're going to have to watch the movie. You won't be sorry you did. The dancing sequences are simply astounding. Astaire's Fourth of July dance alone makes the entire film worthwhile. Then there are the wonderful songs by Berlin, who truly was one of the greatest songwriters who ever lived. Listening to his music, it's easy to see why for the first half of the twentieth century popular music was jazz. And then there are all of the jokes and one-liners. Finally, there are the performances, all of which are first-rate. Walter Abel as Ted's agent Danny and Irving Bacon as Gus the driver almost steal the show from Crosby and Astaire. Trust me, if you like good movies, you're gonna love this film.

Holiday in is rated G. It's filmed in glorious black-and-white, and it has a runtime of 100 minutes.

Robinson Crusoe on Mars (1964)

Okay, yeah, so everybody likes to point out that Robinson Crusoe on Mars is scientifically inaccurate, that Mars is nothing like they portray it here, and that no one could possibly survive there like Commander Christopher "Kit" Draper (Paul Mantee) does. But who the hell cares about any of that. This is a cracking good story. Helmer Byron Haskins takes Daniel Defoe's classic adventure story and sets it not on a tropical island but instead on the angry red planet itself. When their mother ship is nearly clobbered by a passing astroid, Draper and his co-pilot Colonel Dan McReady (Adam West) are forced to land on Mars. Well, they crash, really, and McReady is killed. Left with only the ship's mascot - a monkey named Mona - Draper must try to survive as best he can, while his supply-laden mother ship orbits the planet, forever out of reach. In short order, Draper and Mona find shelter and discover water, oxygen and edible plants. With all of his basic needs taken care of, Draper slowly starts to go nutty from the isolation. Fear not, though, for soon to arrive on the scene is his man Friday (Victor Lundin), a very-human looking alien slave who is forced to labor in Martian mines by other aliens who buzz about in ships that closely resemble the Martian spacecraft from the 1950 War of the Worlds. Not surprising, either, since Haskins worked on that film too. Friday is pursued relentlessly by his alien task masters, who are able to home in on him by means of his electronic handcuffs. To escape the bad guys, Draper and Friday go underground, following a deep cavern that runs for thousands of miles beneath the surface. In due time, Draper is able to rid Friday of his wrist monitors, and when the two finally emerge near the Martian North Pole, the bad guys are nowhere to be seen. Our two heroes press on to the pole; although, why they do so is never adequately explained. As they near the pole, another earth ship flies over and Draper is able to contact them assuring his and Friday's rescue.

I first saw Robinson Crusoe on Mars when I was about five years old, making it one of that small group of movies that has had a profound impact on me ever since. As a result, I love this movie. It has adventure, thrills, scary stuff, exploding meteors, great special effects that stand up well even today, and even a ghost. Oh, yeah, and don't forget the monkey. The story is a classic, of course, and you can almost never go wrong when you use a classic as your foundation. The screenplay by John C. Higgins is really first rate, and the entire thing is shot in widescreen technicolor, quite an achievement at a time when most scifi films were shot in black and white. The best thing about Robinson Crusoe on Mars, though, is the incredible performance by Paul Mantee. This is, after all, essentially a one man movie, so Mantee must carry the entire film for most of its 110 minute runtime. To say that he pulls it off is an understatement. This veteran character actor does a phenomenal job, bringing a nuanced performance to a film that could have so easily tripped over the edge and fallen into the morass of camp. But Mantee is restrained, subtle. While the common man in him is scared and lonely, the military officer maintains strict discipline, and the scientist in him rationally catalogues all of Mars' many sights. It's all too easy to believe that this man really is seeing these sights for the first time and trying to hold them in his memory for future reference. That's the sign of a truly great actor.

Robinson Crusoe on Mars is one of the finest examples of mid-century science fiction film making. It's rated G, for GREAT!

Silent Running (1972)

Let me start right out by saying that there are a LOT of things wrong with Silent Running, not the least of which is THE MESSAGE, which it beats you over the head with until you're dizzy. Here's the set up. Earth is ecologically destroyed. So, the human race in its wisdom has taken all of the earth's remaining natural habitats, enclosed them in these really cool glass domes, attached them to these two-mile-long space ships and sent them on a round the solar system cruise while we clean up the earth and get it ready to receive its forests once again. Ah, but people being the greedy and short-sighted cretins that they are decide that they really don't need all of those trees as much as they need those really cool space ships, which could be pressed into service hauling fee-paying cargo to...someplace. So the crews of the ships are ordered to jettison the domes and - wait for it - blow them up! But one poor sot named Freeman Lowell (Bruce Dern) can't accept this. The forests must be saved at all costs. So he kills his fellow crew members in order to save the last dome. Then he takes control of the ship and heads out away from earth where he will ostensibly find...I dunno...something. To help him run the ship and tend to the last dome, Lowell has three little robot companions that he names Huey, Dewy and Louie. And so this happy quartet happily maintains their ship and forest. But, guilt begins to wear on Lowell. And his little robot companions start to get picked off one by one. Finally, there's Lowell and one good droid remaining. Realizing that he is going insane with grief and that the remaining ships from earth are pursuing him, Lowell teaches the his one undamaged droid to tend the forest on its own. Then he jettisons the dome and blows up his ship, killing himself and his remaining crippled droid. The last thing we see is the little dome floating in the vastness of space as Joan Baez clobbers us over the head once more with THE MESSAGE.

So what's wrong with the film? Well, okay, for starters, why are the domes in outer space to begin with? I mean, if the earth is so polluted that all of the remaining forests have to be put under glass, wouldn't it have been a whole lot cheaper - not to mention safer - to build the domes right there on terra firma, rather than blasting them into deep space? And couldn't a world capable of building such awesome spaceships figure out a way to protect its remaining natural resources? And if the little droids could be trained to take care of the plants and animals in the domes just as well as a person, then why did they need the people up on the ships to take care of the domes? Why not just program the robots from the start? And when they decide to return the ships to commercial service, why BLOW UP THE DOMES?? Why not simple jettison the domes with the little robots on them to take care of them and send the ships home? That way they could always go back and pick up the domes at some future date when they wizened up. After all, it's not like they need the domes - they BLEW THEM UP! And finally, why did we have to have Joan Baez driving THE MESSAGE home in song like someone driving spikes through our skulls? The movie pushed THE MESSAGE just fine without her whiny singing.

Having said all of that, I would now like to say that I really love this movie. No, it's true. Silent Running has great visuals, outstanding models (this from the era when they used to actually construct space ship models), a pretty good story, and what is probably Bruce Dern's finest on-camera performance ever. I mean, Freeman Lowell is a really complicated character. Here's a guy who commits a serious wrong (killing all of his crew mates) in order to prevent another serious wrong (the wanton destruction of earth's remaining habitats) and then goes slowly insane trying to deal with the grief he's suffering on account of what he's done. And Dern pulls it off brilliantly. This is essentially a one-man movie (not counting the robots, who almost steal the show). Dern is passionate, even zealous in his love of nature. Yet he's also a scientist, and so he has the cold, rational aspect to him as well. But above all, he's a human being who cannot deal with the fact that he has taken the lives of other human beings and that he must spend the rest of his life in isolation. It takes a really good actor to pull all of this off and make it believable. The only other actors I've seen do it as well are Will Smith in I am Legend and Paul Mantee in Robinson Crusoe on Mars. I will also point out that the destruction of the Valley Forge at the end of the movie is so well done that it puts the destruction of the Death Star at the end of Star Wars to shame. Lucas should have taken a cue from Douglas Trumbull and gone with the less is more theory.

Silent Running is rated G and has a runtime of 89 minutes. It's filmed in technicolor and widescreen.

To Have and Have Not (1944)

Howard Hawks' To Have and Have Not spawned one of the greatest Hollywood romances of all times as well as one of the greatest lines ever uttered on screen. Adapted from Ernest Hemingway's novel of the same title, the film stars Humphrey Bogart as Harry "Steve" Morgan, a charter fishing boat captain. Based in Martinique, and so under the authority of the Vichy government in occupied France, Steve and his sidekick Eddie (Walter Brennan) try to eek out a living while dealing with crooked customers, avoiding the local authorities and dodging gun battles between resistance fighters and government agents. When his most recent customer dies before paying Steve, he's forced to take work transporting resistant fighters to the island. Into this mix of bullets and intrigue steps Marie "Slim" Browning (Lauren Bacall), a down-on-her-luck cabaret singer who's just trying to earn enough money to get back home to America. This was the first on-screen pairing of Bogart and Bacall and the electricity between them is palpable. Steve is loner and a tough guy, but Slim may be tougher than him. She casts her line and reels him in by simply telling him he can have her. "You don't have to say anything," she says, "and you don't have to do anything. Not a thing. Oh, maybe just whistle. You know how to whistle, don't you, Steve? You just put your lips together and... blow." And hence history was made. But things don't go all that easily for Steve and Slim. The French Resistance fighter that Steve is transporting panics when he should keep his cool and gets himself all shot up. Then Steve has to operate on the guy and remove the lead from him. Meanwhile, the authorities are circling in for the kill. They try to get information out of Eddie by plying him with booze, but Eddie's a lifelong drunk and he can take a lot of booze. Finally, in true Bogart fashion, the evil Vichy agents are defeated and Steve, Slim and Eddie escape on Steve's boat, bound for Florida and happily ever after.


Apparently, Hemingway had bet Hawks that Hawks could never make a film of To Have and Have Not. Hawks rose to the challenge and did so, but only by cutting out most of the novel and substantially rewriting the rest. He focused on a single incident at the book's beginning, expanding and embellishing it to get a full-length movie. The setting was moved from Cuba to Martinique, and the time was moved to after the war had started. In the book, Steve hauls illegal immigrants to Florida, while in the movie he's hauling resistance fighters. He's also a much nicer guy in the movie. This film also has the distinction of being the only movie to have been co-written by two Nobel-prize winning authors: Ernest Hemingway wrote the novel on which it was based, and William Faulkner wrote the screenplay. In spite of this high literary pedigree, it turns out - according to the IMDB - that most of the dialogue was actually improvised by the actors on camera. That's okay, though. It all works out great. As does the presence of the great Hoagy Carmichael as Cricket, the pianist at the local bar. In fact, this film was my introduction to Carmichael at the ripe young age of twelve, and I have been a fan of his music ever since. And all of this is wrapped up in a cracking good yarn with bad guys you can hate and good guys you can sympathize with. You can't do better than that.

To Have and Have Not is rated G and is filmed in glorious black and white. It has a runtime of 100 minutes.

The Triplets of Belleville (2003)

Let me say, right off the bat, that as a general rule I greatly dislike animated films, especially those of the Disney variety. That being said, however, every once and a while an animated film comes along and just knocks my socks off. Sylvain Chomet's The Triplets of Belleville is just such a film. It is so unlike anything that has been produced in this country for that last 30 or 40 years, and it puts the saccharin-soaked Disney stuff to shame. The film is not only entertaining, not only funny, it's also a visual feast. Every scene is packed so full of detail that it's tempting to stop the DVD so that you can take it all in. But don't do that. Let it run, and enjoy the ride. And I know that some people will be put off by the fact that this is another of those foreign films that you have to read. Not so. There is virtually no dialogue in the film. In fact, The Triplets of Belleville is just about the closest thing to a silent movie that has come out since Mel Brooks' Silent Movie. There's no language barrier to cross watching this movie; although, there are some cultural barriers. A lot of the characters that show up in the film are actually caricatures of real French people. But whether you know who they are or not, the movie is still great fun to watch.

The Triplets of Belleville tells the story of Madame Souza, who finds herself taking care of her grandson Champion. We're never told why or how she ended up with custody of Champion. She just has him. They live in a tall house far out in the French country side. Champion is a sad little boy. Madame Souza tries various ways of cheering him up. She even buys him a puppy, but soon the novelty wears off. Then Madame Souza discovers that Champion longs to race a bike in the Tour de France. She runs out and buys her little ward a tricycle, and he's in heaven. Fast forward many years. The city has encroached on the tiny house nearly knocking it over. The puppy - Bruno - has grown big and fat and lazy. And Champion is now a young man who spends all of his time training for the Tour de France, and Madame Souza is his coach and number one fan. As he peddles up and down the streets of their home town, she peddles along behind him on the old tricycle, panting out a beat through a whistle. After the ride, she massages his muscles, tunes his bike, and feeds him nutritious - albeit unappetizing - meals.

Finally, the day of the big race arrives. Champion pants his way through the Tour de France with all of the other athletes as crowds of fans line the raceway, cheering on the riders. Madame Souza and Bruno follow along behind Champion in their van ready to offer assistance when necessary. Suddenly, The Square Shoulder Men show up and disable the support van. While Madame Souza and her driver try to get the van back in the race, The Square Shoulder Men kidnap Champion and two other riders. They drive their hostages to Marseille, where they embark on a ship. Madame Souza and Bruno, arrive just as the chip is disappearing. The ever-resourceful old lady rents one of those little peddle-powered paddle boats and she and Bruno set out after the ship. Sometime later they arrive in the city of Belleville, looking an awful lot like New York City, complete with a bloated statue of liberty. Madame Souza and Bruno are befriended and taken in by three old ladies, The Triplets of Belleville, who used to have a jazz act that they performed many years ago. Their glory days gone, they live now in a run-down flat, surviving on frogs that they catch from a local swamp, and performing in a local restaurant. Madame Souza joins them in their act and bides her time. Meanwhile, The Square Shoulder Men have pressed Champion and his fellow cyclists into slavery, forcing them to peddle stationary bikes that control the movements of toy bikes on a miniature track. Mafia men from all over Belleville come to place bets on whose toy bicycle will reach the finish line first. But Madame Souza soon finds Champion, storms the Mafia hideout, and escapes with her grandson. All ends happily.

Okay, I know that doesn't sound very interesting when you write it out that way. But this film has got to be seen, has got to be experienced, in order to fully appreciate its charm and beauty. Note how everything in the background is tall and thin - buildings, bridges, boats. Note the cheering fans along the raceway - how well even these periphery characters are drawn. Note the fawning French waiters who look like they have no spines. Note how droll almost all of the characters are. Note the incredible detail that went into drawing every single scene. And this isn't a computer animation. This is animation done the old-fashioned way, by hand, with pen and ink and wash. And it shows in every frame. I love this movie. It is the antithesis of every thing that is cranked out by Disney and Pixar et al. The Triplets of Belleville is an animated film that doesn't insult your intelligence, that doesn't send you into a diabetic coma, that's truly enjoyable to watch.

The Triplets of Belleville is rated PG-13 (lots of shooting and killing during the final chase seen) and has a runtime of about 78 minutes.

The Adjustment Bureau (2011)

I am a fan of the late Philip K. Dick. No...let me correct that. I am a HUGE fan of the late Philip K. Dick. So it was with eager anticipation that I purchased my tickets and entered the theater to watch The Adjustment Bureau, which was adapted from Dick's short story "The Adjustment Team." I was, I am afraid to admit, underwhelmed. Which is a bad sign. This movie had all of the makings of a great film. It had fantastic source material. It had an outstanding cast. The leads had class and sex appeal and chemistry and a great meet-cute. It had shadowy-men-in-black. What it did not have, unfortunately, was a screen play that could carry it all through a full-length motion picture. Instead, it relied on interminable chase scenes. Yes, our hero and heroine are running away from the eponymous adjustment bureau, but come on! How many scenes do we need of them running down the street? Through a door? Up the stairs? Through another door? Along the corridor? Through yet another door? Around the corner? Through - wait for it - yet another door? Are you starting to get tired of this already? So was I. Oh, and did I mention that they go through doors? Yeah, they do that. Doors. Lots of `em.

Let me throw you the plot so you know where I'm going here. David Norris (Matt Damon) is just about to win a seat in the US Senate. Then he meets Elise Sellas (Emily Blunt) in a men's room. Sparks definitely fly. This is the real thing. They both know it. But, enter the shadowy-men-in-black who do everything in their power to prevent David and Elise from getting together. At least, most of the shadowy-men-in-black do. One of the shadowy-men-in-black (Anthony Mackie) is not so shadowy after all. He kind of runs interference for them. Tells them who they're up against. Shows them the doors. (Oh yeah, you knew they'd be back.) Once everything was established and I was all ready to hunker down with my bucket o' popcorn and gallon o' soda for a bit of good, suspenseful repartee with the shadowy-men-in-black, the film devolved into a rather insipid version of Running Man...with lots of doors. Yeah, cuz the doors let you move around sort of behind the scenes, between the space of reality as it were. Unfortunately, the film doesn't show you any of the space between the space. Instead, we just see our plucky hero and heroine enter a door in one place and - jump cut - exit a door someplace else. Not much to work with there. Then the whole thing ends so abruptly that I almost cracked a tooth on the rim of my soda cup.

In the pantheon of films made from P.K. Dick stories, The Adjustment Bureau ranks pretty near the bottom. Even the 1995 film Screamers had more on the ball that this one does. And as I said before, that's really too bad, because all of the right elements are there. It just needed a better screenplay, one that was a little more fleshed out, maybe a bit more philosophical, maybe one that actually had something worth saying in the end.

The Adjustment Bureau is rated PG-13 and has a runtime of 106 minutes, which is a long time to watch two people running.