To Kill a Mockingbird: Five Reasons It’s Wonderful

It’s been a while since I’ve written… apologies! I’m back in school, etc. I hope to post more this summer. Fortunately, we have awesome (and much more disciplined!)  bloggers.

From smushnoses.blogspot.com

However, I wanted to jump in and do one. You can say procrastinating. I’ve been wanting to review To Kill a Mockingbird for over a year, so now I’m doing it. Finally.

If you haven’t seen this movie… shame on you. Seriously. Go watch it.  Because the film and the novel are so iconic, I am not going into a lot of plot detail. For information about why the story is awesome, those comments are here.

So, without further ado, here are five reasons why this is one of the best films ever–ever.

1) Gregory Peck. I love him always, and Atticus Finch was just “the role.”  He gives an amazing performance and embodies Atticus as no one could have. It is a true “moment” in film, except it’s throughout the movie, so a long moment.

Atticus owning the courtroom! from johneaves.wordpress.com

2) Story. The story is touching and outstanding (see link above).

3) Nostalgia. I know this sounds redundant on a classic film blog (who of us isn’t nostalgic?), but it’s more than a yearning of the past or excellent film (which this fits), but it’s a nostalgia for childhood. This growing-up story is purely childhood, for all of its dark details. Scout grows up in a serious and still very special way, and watching the film, you feel Atticus is your father and that you’re growing up with her. That is great filmmaking.

Atticus and his children from lauricewithlove.blogspot.com

4) Setting. This film is set perfectly. You get the full feeling of the time and place, which is paramount to the story. If you’ve read the book (which you must), you’ll recognize it immediately. You get to know the place as well as the people.

Icons of the story from watchesinfilms.info

5) Tone. From the credits of a child humming and coloring icons from the story to the manner of speech to the speed at which they unfold the story. The film moves steadily and maintains interest, but at the same time it gives the feeling of quiet. It feels like the iconic positive childhood: passing too quickly and too slowly, but still smooth and steady.

Fix some lemonade or ice tea (or mix them, which is my favorite) and sit down with this one, especially as this weather gets warmer. It’s perfect for the muggy setting!

Gene Kelly: the prettiest shortstop in baseball.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game (1949) is one of several films to feature Gene Kelly partnered with Frank Sinatra. I am a huge fan of both performers, so I love these movies. On the Town (1949) and Anchors Aweigh (1945) are on my list of favorite Gene Kelly films, and the Gene Kelly Blogathon (hosted by the Classic Movie Blog Association) gave me an excuse (in case I needed one) to explore the third in the series. If you’re interested, there is a film collection on DVD.  What’s more, TCM’s Summer Under the Stars is honoring Gene Kelly today in recognition of his one hundredth birthday, and that just fills my heart with glee.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game portrays the adventures of Dennis Ryan (Sinatra) and Eddie O’Brien (Kelly), two baseball players doubling as a vaudeville act. They help lead the Wolves through championship years and provide musical entertainment everywhere they go. In addition to Kelly and Sinatra, this film features Esther Williams (the Million Dollar Mermaid), Betty Garrett, Edward Arnold, and Jules Munshin as the fantastic character Goldberg. Entertaining connections: Betty Garrett also plays Brunhilde Esterhazy (a cab driver who has a thing for Frank Sinatra’s character “Chip”) in On the Town, and played in Neptune’s Daughter with Esther Williams. Betty Garrett gets to spend a lot of time chasing Frank Sinatra. That’s all I’m going to say about that.

Seriously–entertainment EVERYWHERE. I really did like this number, too.

Williams plays K.C. Higgens, who has just inherited ownership of the team and knows more about baseball than they would think and has more opinions than they would like. Too bad she’s beautiful …  Yet again, we watch Gene Kelly teach Frank Sinatra about attracting the opposite sex. Naturally, Higgens and O’Brien end up falling in love and endure a complicated courtship. Ryan falls in love with her, too, but Shirley (Garrett) manages to win his affections in the end, and believe me, she earns it.

As you might expect, Ryan and O’Brien perform the famous “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” (the 1927 version, not the 1908, if you’re astute enough to know the difference. I wasn’t so knowledgeable, but I know a lot about using Google–I looked it up). My other favorite number was “O’Brien to Ryan to Goldberg,” depicting their famous double-play strategy that’s the key to their victories. The number is catchy and  entertaining, even if you are a blasphemer, like myself, who doesn’t particularly care for baseball. It’s all about the rhythm, and I tend to love Gene Kelly’s trio numbers, anyway (“Good Morning,” anyone?). They may not all be as famous as his other routines, but I enjoy them quite well.

O’Brien to Ryan to Goldberg! The triangle that trumps the diamond!

Interestingly, several songs were deleted from the film: one of Frank Sinatra crooning to Shirley (which makes me kind of sad, but it was deemed “too slow”) and “Baby Doll,” which features a bizarre dance number between Kelly and Williams that could easily have inspired the toy routine in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (1968) and is just plain weird in this film. Removing Sinatra crooning is just wrong, but they did spare us the somewhat awkward (in the context of the film) number that did no justice to the dancing talent. For this reason, I give the editing 3.5 stars.

Despite re-running many elements amongst each other, I love the films in this series. Each one is its own delight. Overall, I have to say I prefer the sailor films to baseball, but this is one is still a lot of fun. We get the pleasure of the singing Sinatra and dancing Gene Kelly, which is what matters most. Gene Kelly performs with his usual charm and enthusiasm. He plays a character that would be obnoxious, except that he’s Gene Kelly. He often plays these characters, and I cannot help but love them. It doesn’t seem to matter if the musical numbers are excellent (think Singin’ in the Rain) or maybe longer than they needed to be (this film did have some of those, I’m sorry to say)–watching him dance makes you want to join him. If you could keep up. Which I can’t. It’s pure joy onscreen every time.

No matter what he’s doing, you just know it’s Gene Kelly. I have strolled through a room, glanced at the television, and known that it was a Gene Kelly piece–even without knowing the film. He brings all of his “Kelly-ness” to everything. You have to appreciate that sort of thing.

This film is a winner when you want something light and frivolous. It’s a good choice for a Memorial Day or Fourth of July film that’s a little different, since it is baseball after all, and it does have some patriotic undertones and a patriotic number. Perhaps it’s cliche, but I think I would definitely recommend this one with a hot dog, chased by peanuts and Cracker Jacks.

 

This post has a double function: as a contribution to the Gene Kelly Centennial Blogathon hosted by the Classic Movie Blog Association, and as another entry in the 2012 TCM SUTS blogathon hosted by Sittin’ on a Backyard Fence and ScribeHard on Film. Share the Gene Kelly love with everyone you know today!

Katharine Hepburn is Awesome

Today, Summer Under the Stars on TCM features Katharine Hepburn–all day, all night, hooray! It would be wise to set your DVR to record the entire day or, better yet, just cancel any plans you may have. Get some snacks and a blanket and just get comfortable in front of the television.

ADAM’S RIB (1949)

It’s no mystery to regular readers of this blog how much I love Katharine Hepburn. She’s my hero. Her skill, her demeanor on screen, and her indomitable energy made her famous for generations. It’s only fitting that she is honored with a Summer Under the Stars tribute day.  More information than I could ever compile on the actress’ life and storied career is available and aesthetically presented on TCM’s fabulous Hepburn SUTS page.

MARY OF SCOTLAND (1936)

The lineup begins with Christopher Strong at 6AM EST, one of three films today from 1933.  The movies on the schedule run from 1933 to 1969. The schedule includes two of my favorites: Adam’s Rib (1949) and Woman of the Year (1942). I see that Brandie’s favorite, Bringing Up Baby (1938), comes on at 12:15AM EST; I’m sure she’ll be watching. The lineup further includes important films such as Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner (1967); 1933′s Little Women (which I really like, even though I didn’t care for the novel–I find this version to be the best, but I’m perhaps biased); and her shining performance as Mary Stewart in 1936′s Mary of Scotland (we’ll forgive the fact that it’s a depressing story).

BRINGING UP BABY (1938)

Renowned for her sharp wit and intelligence, Katharine Hepburn was an uncommon starlet. Her legacy endured through several eras of film and numerous changes in the nation with class and spirit.  Her charming performances in romantic comedies belied her excellent capabilities as a dramatic actress. I’ve discussed her eerie and complex performance in Suddenly, Last Summer (1959) in a previous post, and I believe it is worth comparing that film to those on the list today. In that movie, she’s elegant and regal, while being subtle and completely terrifying. The more you pay attention, the more terrifying she is. Phenomenal.

SUDDENLY, LAST SUMMER (1959)

Frankly, I was surprised not to see The Philadelphia Story (1940) on the list today, but perhaps the schedulers at TCM thought it too obvious. Still, I felt it worth mentioning here, as the role was written for her, and it is one of the most popular of her films. As much as I love the 1956 musical remake High Society, even Grace Kelly could not bring the same spirit to her character that Katharine Hepburn did. The entire film has a different tone and feeling.

So, enjoy today, all day. You’re assured first-rate performances in comedy and drama. Thank you to Katharine Hepburn and the producers of Summer Under the Stars on TCM for indulging our love of this always wonderful actress!

 

This post is an entry in the “2012 TCM SUTS Blogathon” hosted by Sittin’ on a Backyard Fence and ScribeHard on Film. More Kate-centric posts can be found on their sites throughout the day!

“I teach you truths. My truths.”

To Sir, with Love (1967) is probably my favorite Sidney Poitier movie. What’s not to love about Sidney Poitier? He’s credited with opening up the world of film for African-Americans by expanding the nature of their roles. Of all of his memorable characters, Mr. Thackeray is my favorite. He steps in as an instructor at an underprivileged school where the teachers have given up on the students. But instead of joining his colleagues in their hopelessness, he raises the standards for the students and teaches them anything they wish to know.

This plot has been used again and again, but we like moviegoers generally seem to like it. To Sir, with Love could be considered a precursor to a sub-genre of films such as Stand and Deliver (1988), Dead Poets Society (1989), and The Emperor’s Club (2002). Interestingly, the year after Sir was released, the similarly-themed The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie (1969), starring Dame Maggie Smith, premiered. Contrary to Poitier’s inspirational Mr. Thackeray, however, Miss Brodie truly becomes a manipulator for her own political and career gain–though each teacher’s special attentions and influences in shaping the minds of youth are somewhat similar.

Sidney Poitier was the perfect actor for this role. His tone, posture, diction, and manner draw in the audience the way he would his students. The film is excellent, the script well-written, and the premise inspiring. Sir insists that hope helps people achieve potential and that we rise to the standards expected of us. Mr. Thackeray begins by commanding respect and returning it. From there, he engages the students by teaching them honestly and openly. His success with his students–and their resulting gratitude–strengthens his resolve and dedication to return and continue turning around the lives of the city youth.

The film also features Lulu as “Babs”–my other favorite character in the film. Lulu was a popular British musician in the 1960s and performs the famous title song, “To Sir, with Love,” in the film. Lulu is still around and has performed in various films and television series, almost always in a musical role.

Poitier performed in the film with many other popular British actors of the time, such as Christian Roberts, Judy Geeson, and Suzy Kendall. As Poitier was from Miami (via Bahamian parents), he was a transplant in England as a performer, and a transplant in the world of the film, too. He brought his quiet, revolutionary performance style to his quietly revolutionary character.

 

Sidney Poitier gives a brilliant performance in this film. He is engaging: formal, yet straightforward, and honest as only Poitier can be. He makes it easy for the audience to align with him, and he leaves us feeling enlightened and hopeful by the end.

Today, August 7th, TCM’s annual Summer Under the Stars event features twenty-four hours of films from Sidney Poitier. I can wholeheartedly recommend all of the films on the schedule; no doubt, it will be a great day filled with shining performances. But if you can only see one movie today, make it To Sir, with Love.

 

This post is an entry in the “TCM SUTS 2012 Blogathon” hosted by Sittin’ on a Backyard Fence and ScribeHard on Film. You can read all of the entries about Sidney Poitier as they are posted throughout the day. Make sure to check in with Jill and Michael every day this month for more SUTS fun!

To Sir, with Love airs on TCM tonight at 10:15PM EST.

John Wayne is … McLintock!

The movie poster, though I can’t say I like the imagery or the color …

McLintock! (1963) is my favorite John Wayne movie. Not being a big fan of Westerns in general, this hardly may be great praise, but perhaps it is. It is on my short list of “westerns worth watching.” I love the humor, the banter, and the playfulness of this movie.

My grandmother loved Westerns, and she loved John Wayne. She would have been ninety years old this past July, and that is a big part of why I volunteered to do this piece.

John Wayne as G.W. McLintock

John Wayne made a career out of being the cowboy, the “man’s man” on the silver screen–and why not? He was huge. He’s impressive on screen and was fairly impressive in person. (There is a statue of him in Madame Tussaud’s in London–or at least there was several years ago–and you can see for yourself.) He was also known not to be shy about his opinions, which pretty  much reflects his on-screen characters. McLintock! was indeed a comedy, but also an expression of his own conservative views.

McLintock’s justice–afterwards, we see the mud brawl.

He was responsible for naming the Governor (Robert Lowery) Cuthbert H. Humphrey after his own political thorn, Senator Humphrey.  The anti-feminism within the plot feels forgivable, probably due to the film’s unabashed childishness–spankings, fighting in mud, resisting decorum. More than anything, we watch John Wayne act like a very large, intoxicated child. His escapades are so well-known that the local children race to catch his hat in the morning (which he has thrown to the weather vane atop the roof in his drunken return home). To make matters more interesting, Maureen O’Hara plays opposite him as his estranged wife Katherine, all the while informing him he should act like a grown man, instead of an ape. If anyone could play this role, it was Maureen O’Hara.

Even Maureen O’Hara’s in the mud.

In McLintock!, Wayne reunites with O’Hara once more (in the fourth of their five films together), with appearances by Patrick Wayne, Stefanie Powers, Chill Wills (Best. Name. Ever.), and a goofball performance by Jerry Van Dyke. The only really sentimental part goes to character actor Jack Kruschen as Mr. Birnbaum. They made a good choice in casting him; he made short roles go far in film and television throughout his career (it appears broadcast television had to reconfigure itself to do without him after his retirement in the late nineties, as he was in countless major series for more than forty years).

What I love about this film is that it’s quotable, such as during the famous mud scene when the Chief declares, “Great party, but no whiskey. We go home.”  He’s a great character, rather Sondheim in nature, with his random appearances regarding whiskey. Then it flips and they are crucial to the development of the plot, or subplot, depending on which plot you consider primary. Regardless, he’s an excellent addition to the film and helps set the unique tone for this Western piece.

My favorite piece of John Wayne timing is the fight with Maureen O’Hara. After said fight, in which she refuses to have a discussion with “an intoxicated man” and storms up the stairs, he follows her, stating, “And I am not intoxicated. Yet.”  This scene sums up the film and their relationship in a few lines of spot-on timing.

Mrs. McLintock vs. Mrs. Warren–I do love Mrs. Warren.

This film is fun and lighthearted. It’s the type of film that makes you think they had fun making it, or at least hope they did. As I enjoy assigning accompanying foods to movie-watching, I particularly recommend partnering McLintock! with biscuits, in deference to Mrs. Warren’s cooking prowess, and perhaps a fried chicken dinner with mashed potatoes.

 

This post is an entry in the “2012 TCM Summer Under the Stars” Blogathon sponsored by Jill of Sittin’ on a Backyard Fence and Michael of ScribeHard on Film. Make sure to check in with Jill and Michael throughout the month for more entries from around the blogosphere!

McLintock! airs at 5:45PM EST today on TCM.

Mel Brooks: Silent Movie

Before High Anxiety, Mel Brooks starred in and directed Silent Movie (1976). The ultimate silent movie, it’s a silent film about creating a silent film. Aided by his two loyal associates, Dom Bell (Dom DeLuise) and Marty Eggs (Marty Feldman), Mel Funn (Mel Brooks) takes a silent film script to Hollywood, where he was once revered. The studio has just received word that the treacherous Engulf and Devour plan to take over their studio. Mel Funn declares that his silent film will save the studio, and he sets off to find big stars for the film (including Burt Reynolds, Liza Minnelli, and Paul Newman).

Why Mel Funn wears a sailing cap, I have no idea, but they enjoy their hats in this movie.

Engulf and Devour try desperately to stop them, but they could have spared themselves the trouble. Bell, Eggs, and Funn wreak havoc on all of their stars perfectly well on their own, and the stars still agree to participate in the film. Engulf and Devour hire seductress Vilma Kaplan (Bernadette Peters) to distract Funn from his mission, but as a matter of course, she falls in love with the director/recovering alcoholic for real.

Let’s make this as awkward as possible…

The comedy is brilliantly, ridiculously slapstick, true to a Mel Brooks film. To make this film special, they perform variations of the traditional gags of the master comedians (think Buster Keaton, who was Marty Feldman’s idol), and speed up the film to mimic the early rapid, jerky frames in addition to showing frantic behavior. Then there’s the comedy hallmarks that make a Mel Brooks film: irony, quotes, and absurdity.  A few of my favorite examples:

Quoting his own plot: Distracting seductive lounge singer–Blazing Saddles (1974), anyone? Not to mention, her routines are just bizarre …

Distracting much? And notice Marty Eggs’ hat…

Marty Feldman: physical comedy, can’t catch a break, and awkward, unspoken dialogue. I love Marty Feldman. You may know him as Igor in Young Frankenstein (1974). He is a great character with odd quirks as a “mild-mannered pervert,” wearing a fighter pilot’s cap even with formal wear, and always hopping out of the convertible to open the door for Bell, even though Marty sits in the middle.  Watch Marty- he has a lot of little behaviors in big scenes that are hilarious. Details, details, details.

Hiring Bernadette Peters to be the musical star in a silent film: Just in case you aren’t familiar with her, she’s well-known for her musical talent as well as acting, and has spent a lot of time on Broadway as well as film.

Marcel Marceau speaks!

Mime Marcel Marceau having one of almost the only sounds: they call a mime on the phone (ha ha), and he answers his resounding “non/no” to being in the film, which is funny, because he’s in the film …

While I wouldn’t call this my favourite Mel Brooks piece, it’s definitely funny and worth a watch if you haven’t seen it.  Being silent, it doesn’t work at all if you multitask during the movie (a habit I tend to have), so watch it when you have time to actually sit down and watch it. I recommend lemonade and some sort of light finger food with this one–perhaps peanut butter and jelly cut into fourths.

 

This post is the second entry in Carrie’s ongoing tribute to the filmography of Mel Brooks. You can find more entries in that series here.

High Anxiety

I have to begin by saying how excited I was to hear about the “Best Hitchcock Films Hitchcock Never Made” blogathon. Several months ago, I decided to run a series on Mel Brooks, and this is the best kickoff I could have chosen. My many thanks to Dorian and Becky for hosting the “Not-Hitch” celebration!

High Anxiety (1977) was designed to parody suspense film as a genre, but primarily to parody Hitchcock suspense films. Many may recognize the references to Vertigo (1958), which are certainly prevalent, but Brooks wouldn’t be the brilliant filmmaker we know if he had stopped there.

The standard asylum fear: staff trapping patients by convincing others they are crazy. Here, Dr. Montague pretends to become a werewolf.

The setting screams Spellbound (1945), as does the opening premise: Dr. Thorndyke takes over the Psycho-Neurotic Institute for the Very, Very Nervous, a position that the villainous Dr. Montague had expected to receive. The film that ensues is a mishmash of numerous Hitchcock images including imperatives from Psycho (1960), North by Northwest (1959), The Birds (1963), Spellbound, Suspicion‘s (1941) spider web shadow, The Man Who Knew Too Much (1954), and Vertigo (please note: NOT an exhaustive list).  In proper Mel Brooks fashion, the more you know about Hitchcock’s work, the more humor you can find in the film.

Possibly the most obligatory parody in the film: Dr. Thorndyke about to be “stabbed” by a newspaper.

Most of Mel Brooks’ parodies mimic images. What makes this film extra-special, however, is the way he plays with what made Hitchcock such a famous filmmaker: camera angles. Hitchcock is widely considered a filming genius and credited with revolutionizing the use of the camera to create visual effects. Mel Brooks pays close attention to this, and mimics Hitch’s habit. The introduction runs through the airport, following a baggage claim. This preferred pattern would eventually become a favorite of modern film artist Tim Burton.  Later, the film showcases using camera angles by literally placing the camera in random places or, as in my favorite scene, actually creates a mood using the camera angle.

The gate to the institute: Please note the sign “keep in.”

One of my favorite scenes in the film involves Dr. Montague and Nurse Diesel, portrayed by two frequent Mel Brooks compatriots: Harvey Korman and the incredible Cloris Leachman. Nurse Diesel (yes, that’s Nurse Ratched from 1975′s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, and not even subtle), the true evil mastermind, explains the plot to Dr. Montague during an afternoon tea. The camera, however, sits below the glass-topped coffee table. The camera allows the audience to “spy” on the plotters, who unwittingly block the camera repeatedly as they go about having their tea. The comedy of the moment is brilliant, drawing the audience into the role of spy, albeit a spy constantly frustrated by carafes and saucers (and eventually completely blocked by a tray). Brooks creates one of his best parodies here by comedically accomplishing the very thing that makes Hitchcock so masterful: using perspective to create or change the role of his audience.

“Vertigo” and the blonde bombshell …

What also makes this film special is that Mel Brooks stars in the movie himself. Like Hitchcock, he typically has a character role or cameo in his films. Oddly, in his film pertaining to Hitchcock, he steps out and stars in his own picture. It is not the first or certainly the only movie where he does so, but it is his first with a speaking role (he stars also in 1976′s Silent Movie). However, in proper Hitchcock fashion, Mel Brooks hired a “blonde” to play the lead hysterical female role–Madeline Kahn. The in-the-film-blonde Kahn takes her role quite seriously, basically encompassing every suspense/Hitchcock bombshell all in one character (and let’s face it, no one in Mel Brooks’ arsenal, or possibly in the world, can do pitchy hysteria quite the way she can.).

Cloris Leachman is masterful as Nurse Diesel

The acting in this film is excellent overall, and no suspense is worth anything unless the villain in compelling. Harvey Korman is excellent as the rather disturbed puppet front man. Cloris Leachman’s performance as the horrifying Nurse Diesel is nothing short of a statement. Her verbal cues and posture communicate everything about her commanding strictness, and she creates a delightfully bizarre, blocked speech by clenching her teeth and only talking out of one side of her mouth. Just as Hitchcock worked hard to give the audience important signals of impending danger, she’s a caricature of held-back, hidden villainy.

This post could probably continue forever with parody mentions, pointing our references, or discussing the brilliance of the performances, but there has to be at least a little suspense left for the film …

Horseathon: The Last Unicorn

Considering that lately I’ve been in  a rebellious frame of mind, it’s fitting that my selection for the Horseathon stretches the rules of “horse” as well as “classic film.” Having grown up with horses, there is no other suitable excuse for what I am about to do, except perhaps that I’ve reviewed National Velvet (1944) at least twice and have nothing further to say (other than to reiterate again that if you haven’t seen it, you should). Also, I’ve been looking for a compelling reason to write about this particular film, so a giant THANK YOU for the Horseathon! Regardless, I hope you enjoy my little foray into 1980s animation.

The Unicorn gets vaguely helpful information from an addle-brained butterfly.

I remember loving The Last Unicorn (1982) growing up. We rented it countless times. In college, when I ran into a copy on DVD, I had no choice but to purchase it immediately, full of nostalgic glee. The story depicts the life of a unicorn, who hears that she must be the last of her own kind. She gets vague advice from a poetic, flighty (pun fully intended) butterfly, and leaves her home in search of the other unicorns. On her way, she encounters other perspectives and different forms of magic: humans who have no concept of it, a not-so accomplished magician (who oddly reminds me of Rincewind the Wizard of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld), a harpy (the darker side of her own magic), and the evil Mommy Fortuna, who captures animals and makes them appear to be magical creatures in her travelling novelty show. All of the other unicorns have been forced into the sea by the infamous Red Bull (who doesn’t give you wings, or freedom … I didn’t think it was funny, either) near the castle of King Haggard. King Haggard wanted all of the unicorns for himself, and has kept them prisoner in the sea.

The Unicorn faces the Red Bull. Tell me this image isn’t like LEGEND (1985).

The film is based on the book (with the screenplay) by Peter S. Beagle and features an all-star cast you might not expect: Alan Arkin, Mia Farrow, Christopher Lee, Angela Lansbury, and Rene Auberjonois, just to name a few. The film was actually animated in Japan, where the anime style for film was taking flight (though it originated in the early 1900s–for more information on the history of anime, click here.)  This accounts for the trademark anime elements of the characters, including large eyes, somewhat exaggerated expressions, round mouths, and the unicorn’s not-so-horselike tail.

Now for the horse elements:

Mia Farrow plays “the unicorn” or “Amalthea,” as she is called when Schmedrick the Magician turns her into a human to save her from the Red Bull. As the unicorn travels the land, those unfamiliar with magic mistakenly see her as a beautiful, white mare. She quickly discovers how clueless most people are of unicorn legend.

Molly gives the wizard Schmedrick a verbal lashing for turning the Unicorn into a woman–Amalthea.

This is about par for much of unicorn lore. In most stories about or including unicorns, they are rare creatures at best: pure, powerful, gentle, and in many cases the very holders of the world’s magic. Frequently, the story is that there are as few as one or two remaining in the world (think Legend, which came out a few years later). Unicorns are sometimes considered the landbound relations of the Pegasus, although the Pegasus derives from Greek mythology. The ancient Greeks considered the unicorn to be an actual creature, perhaps from India. The unicorn is referenced throughout ancient history, including Mesopotamia and in the Bible. Its magic and legend is so prevalent that it is often considered synonymous with the fantasy genre (particularly in the debates of fantasy vs. sci-fi, but we’ll leave that for another discussion).

Not just a cartoon character

Our fascination with unicorns resembles our fascination with horses in general, but on a different level. While horses are common–though beloved–tools of civilization, making and breaking societies in both agriculture and war, unicorns are a rare mythology that many storytellers are afraid to approach (vs. the current popularity of vampire lore, however destroyed it may be). Perhaps it is the sacredness of the creature, or the lack of depth (how can the embodiment of purity be a complicated character?), or our current social pessimism (evidenced by the re-popularity of dystopia) that drives us away from it. Regardless, the comparative rarity of unicorns in film reflect the rarity of the creature itself.

… not just for girls, either.

The answer is simply this: “film magic” could not have been created without the horse (please, they’re in so many films, though disproportionately the stars). The truly magical unicorn, however, creates its own magic, making it sometimes unwieldy in the unprepared film. Nevertheless, it reflects our own awe of seeing that rare bit of cinematic perfection that makes us sit in wonder. The Last Unicorn can hardly be regarded as that film. Though entertaining, the story trolls along a bit, and the characters tend to be underdeveloped. That doesn’t even cover the fact that the singing in at least one or two songs is noticeably flat. Still, it’s a cult classic of the 1980s and provides a little of what we all need: one last bit of purity in a corrupt, selfish world. That is, after all, the significance of the unicorn.

 

This post is my entry for the Horseathon, hosted by Page of My Love of Old Hollywood. The horses will run across the blogsophere through tomorrow, so make sure to check out all of the entries. And come back tomorrow for another equine contribution from the crew here at True Classics!