The biggest flaw in this movie is Paulette Goddard. She's too damn beautiful. She's great! Don't misunderstand me! But it doesn't matter how much dirt you smudge on her face, the way she's made up and the clothes she's in (even when they're rags) plus her actual damn self. She's just too beautiful.
Plus, she's obviously 26 but she's supposed to be . . . fifteen? And their relationship. Is he a father figure? Are they in a burgeoning romance? I'm not sure why this choice for ambiguity.
Anyway, the moment the Little Tramp appeared on screen, our 5yrold started giggling. All he's doing is tightening bolts and she can't stop laughing.
I'm always up for some Chaplin. I mean, who isn't?
What a mad fantasy this is! I mean—the movie doesn't lie to us: they could very well be dead as the credits roll–but it embraces art and joy and hope even is depressing-as-hell-as-ever '80s Ireland.
It also kind of snuck up on me. I thought I knew what kind(s) of movie it was (and I was right), but I missed the primary theme until the epic conclusion. But, just in case I missed it, the dedication drove it home. Which dedication was, frankly, sweet.
Props to Kohl Glass for the recommendation. Props to me for finally (finally following that recommendation.
This seems like a movie that will better and better on rewatching. Even on first view the music delved right into my soul. Makes me all the sadder I still (still) haven't watched Once.
So . . . it was fine?
Lady Steed and I agree that it must have been a movie for its time. It did feel 1980 in the sense that it had a 70s vibe with some set pieces that would soon become tired elements of 80s comedy. We couldn't agree that it was a gag-a-minute sort of laff-fest and it's feminism is very pre-this-wave, but it was enjoyable enough.
I guess there's a reason everyone was still talking about it thirty years ago but less so today.
I just wish I could remember what I read or saw that prompted tracking it down earlier this year. Dang.
Terrific, thrilling movie. I will admit, parts of it hit differently in the QAnon era.
In the end, the people who come off the best are the most victimized. Because at least they maintain their humility.
There go any of us, should be so unlucky. We're not better than them.
Arguably my favorite childhood films, it's still a lot of fun although some of the choices were not, shall we say, made for realism. But a strong cast and a fun plot with some slapstick a classic lines keep this one a winner, all these years later.
I had tried to show it to the kids before (long enough ago, none of them remember it), but that was on dvd. And I don't know if you've ever tried watching Snowball Express on dvd but I have, twice, on two different dvds, and the sound and the video are out of alignment. Which makes for a MADDENING experience.
I've been nervous to try streaming Snowball Express for fear they just lifted the dvd transfer but I'm happy to say that, at least on Disney+, it is correct. (But this higher res does make the lighting rather absurd now and them.)
So while we waited to watch this movie the first time with Grandpa, this time we watched it with Poppa. For similar but distint reasons. Grandpa is a Shelbyphile and a proud owner of a car signed by the man. Poppa is just a car car whose knowledge of the era's cars is about as deep as any layman's. Plus, one of the key settings is in his backyard.
Both men enjoyed the movie and, frankly, it was a lot of fun to share the movie with each of them. Although the things they felt important enough to talk over the movie differed, the general experience both times was like a gift handed across generations.
Plus, it's just a really good movie.
So this movie is supposed to be the descendent of Rear Window (which I love and admire) and Body Double (which remains a few slots down my De Palma watchlist) but it didn't seem worth serious attention so I sped through it at fast speed and, meh, it's okay. The couple we meet at the beginning is great. The descent into obsession works well. When the twists start coming, the begin with a kind of dumb one then leap from newly obvious to even dumber. Ah well.
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