and the scene with the guards liking the storyboards was enough. It was climactic.
And it is an appropriate climax because it's about story: how people tell stories, how they hear them. The narrative that Stafford makes for the guards out of the storyboards has nothing to do with the bazaars-and-minarets Star Wars rip-off we glimpse at the script reading in Hollywood, but that's what you can do with wordless pictures in any order you want to shuffle them. It's the proof of Mendez's earlier statement that a story—these ridiculous layers of story, from the real script of a fake movie to the film-crew cover identities that are just enough of the people who'll use them to be the most convincing kind of lie, the English major as the screenwriter, the production manager who speaks Farsi—is the only thing between the houseguests and a gun. Not the relative runway speeds of cars vs. planes. That just came into focus for me: the whole movie has been about what stories can do that more conventional action can't, and then the conventional action takes over anyway. That's especially unnecessary.
the end of the new Flight of the Phoenix where they didn't trust the perfectly good man vs canal plot of the original movie and had the plane take off pursued by a bear. I mean, some barbarians.
You know, I avoided that film on principle when it came out, and every time I hear something else about it, I'm happy all over again that I did!
(The original seems to have become one of my comfort movies: I own it on DVD and I still watch it every time it comes around on TCM.)
And I was so glad the housekeeper also escaped, because she'd taken an awful risk there.
And I liked that the movie took the time to care about her, where she might have dropped off the page in another script after her pivotal scene; I think she must be a composite character, because I couldn't find any references to a woman named Sahar in connection with the historical events, but still. Because she is telling the story, we can guess she's all right.
no subject
And it is an appropriate climax because it's about story: how people tell stories, how they hear them. The narrative that Stafford makes for the guards out of the storyboards has nothing to do with the bazaars-and-minarets Star Wars rip-off we glimpse at the script reading in Hollywood, but that's what you can do with wordless pictures in any order you want to shuffle them. It's the proof of Mendez's earlier statement that a story—these ridiculous layers of story, from the real script of a fake movie to the film-crew cover identities that are just enough of the people who'll use them to be the most convincing kind of lie, the English major as the screenwriter, the production manager who speaks Farsi—is the only thing between the houseguests and a gun. Not the relative runway speeds of cars vs. planes. That just came into focus for me: the whole movie has been about what stories can do that more conventional action can't, and then the conventional action takes over anyway. That's especially unnecessary.
the end of the new Flight of the Phoenix where they didn't trust the perfectly good man vs canal plot of the original movie and had the plane take off pursued by a bear. I mean, some barbarians.
You know, I avoided that film on principle when it came out, and every time I hear something else about it, I'm happy all over again that I did!
(The original seems to have become one of my comfort movies: I own it on DVD and I still watch it every time it comes around on TCM.)
And I was so glad the housekeeper also escaped, because she'd taken an awful risk there.
And I liked that the movie took the time to care about her, where she might have dropped off the page in another script after her pivotal scene; I think she must be a composite character, because I couldn't find any references to a woman named Sahar in connection with the historical events, but still. Because she is telling the story, we can guess she's all right.