dr_foreman

Over the past couple of years, I've made it my mission to watch many of the most famous films ever made. And while I've greatly enjoyed some of these films, others have struck me as overrated drags.

"Battleship Potemkin" falls somewhere in the middle of the scale. I admire the film for its groundbreaking direction and sequences of extreme suspense and horror. But, on the other hand, much of the film is a little ... dull. Indeed, my girlfriend is now snoozing heavily in the next room, having passed out during the long sequence of the Potemkin approaching the rest of the fleet. (I suspect that I liked the film a little more than she did. Bless.)

Now, I should unpack what I mean by "dull," because I hate it when people are imprecise with their criticisms. I quite like a lot of films that can be construed as "dull" -- Twilight Samurai, Alphaville, Tokyo Story, and so on. But these films aren't boring to me; they're paced in such a way as to invite contemplation rather than generate excitement. And because I care about the characters in these films, this pacing doesn't bother me at all; indeed, it draws me into the story even more deeply.

The trouble with "Battleship Potemkin" is that it doesn't have great characters; nor does it really invite you to contemplate anything. At heart, it's an action movie designed to appeal to the most basic of emotions, not your brain. So, in the slow stretches of the film between action segments, "Potemkin" sort of grinds down. This problem doesn't spoil the film completely, but it does in my opinion prevent it from being an all-time classic.

So why did I give it an "8"? Because it truly is fascinating to watch. Because the Odessa steps sequence is rightly celebrated (and the imitations aren't as good). Because the propaganda bits are actually sort of interesting. And, of course, it's full of memorable images that are both beautiful and terrifying.

And yet, I can't help being a little annoyed at film critics for over-praising films that were groundbreaking for purely technical reasons. Even though film is a largely visual medium, shouldn't we be more invested in plot, characters, and themes than in novel use of cuts/dissolves/montage/etc.? There's more to movies than clever trickery with the camera -- or there should be, anyway.

In short, "Battleship Potemkin" looks great and is a fascinating piece of film history, but it might not entertain you, and it almost certainly won't enlighten you. I liked it fine, but I can think of quite a few movies I'd rather watch -- many of them foreign, and most of them slow-paced.

Years ago, I wrote a hostile review of Petey Wheatstraw for IMDb. What can I possibly say to justify that? I was young, and foolish. And the greatness of this film had not yet revealed itself to me.

Well, "greatness" is too strong a word. Petey Wheatstraw is not great, but rather "amusing" and somewhat "crazy." If you permit yourself to be drawn into the film's wacky universe, you may have a thoroughly enjoyable viewing experience.

Petey Wheatstraw, in short, is about a kung-fu fighting stand-up comedian who makes an unwise bargain with Lucifer. It's part comedy movie, part horror movie, part gangster movie, part sex movie, and part kung-fu epic with intentionally (I hope) bad choreography. The film bounces breathlessly between these genres, especially in the early scenes, which are disorienting and seem totally unconnected. But soon enough, the story settles into a kind of weird rhythm.

Needless to say, the production values are poor (Lucifer's demon minions are men in ballet tights and Halloween masks), the editing is choppy, and the acting is of highly variable quality. The script, however, has a weird poetry to it. The comedy dialog, though extremely crass, is sometimes really funny, and some of the "character" scenes when Petey and Lucifer get together are bizarrely effective.

Now I feel all weird, because I'm trying to defend what is, in essence, an extremely tacky bad movie. But it's a *witty* bad movie, and I can appreciate the effort that went into its production. And the film undeniably captures a time -- a place -- a bizarreness. It's sort of hypnotic.

Let me put it this way: I bought Petey Wheatstraw as a bargain DVD years ago, hated it on the initial viewing, and almost pawned it. But I never did get rid of that DVD. It survived several years of DVD trading-in, numerous changes of address on my part, and other seismic events in my life that might easily have caused Petey Wheatstraw's demise. But that DVD survived through it all; I still have the movie, still think about it sometimes, still smirk when I see it on my shelf. And that's the best endorsement I can give it.