Part 95: 1987
MOVIES:
Hannah and Her Sisters
A Room with a View
Platoon (winner)
The Mission
Children of a Lesser God (hidden gem)
Hannah and Her Sisters
Director: Woody Allen
Starring: Woody Allen, Michael Caine, Mia Farrow, Carrie Fisher, Barbara Hershey, Lloyd Nolan, Maureen O'Sullivan, Daniel Stern, Max von Sydow, Dianne Wiest, Lewis Black, Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Christian Clemenson, Julie Kavner, J.T. Walsh, John Turturro, Rusty Magee, Allen DeCheser, Artie DeCheser, Ira Wheeler, Richard Jenkins, Tracy Kennedy, Fred Melamed, Benno Schmidt, Joanna Gleason, Maria Chiara, Stephen deFluiter, Bobby Short, Rob Scott, Beverly Peer, Daisy Previn, Moses Farrow, Paul Bates, Carrotte, Mary Pappas, Bernie Leighton, Ken Costigan, Helen Miller, Leo Postrel, Susan Gordon-Clark, William Sturgis, Daniel Haber, Verna O. Hobson, John Doumanian, Fletcher Previn, Irwin Tenenbaum, Amy Greenhill, Dickson Shaw, Marie Sheridan, Ivan Kronenfeld
Oscar Wins: Best Supporting Actress (Diane Wiest), Best Supporting Actor (Michael Caine), Best Writing (Original Screenplay)
Other Nominations: Best Art Direction, Best Film Editing, Best Director, Best Picture
Families are…complicated. The lucky among us grow up with parents that love us unconditionally; siblings that aren’t just relatives, but friends; holidays that don’t devolve into total and utter chaos. While everyone may think they want that perfect family life, we all know a squeaky-clean household never made for good entertainment!
On the surface, Hannah and her Sisters tells the story of three siblings. Hannah (Mia Farrow) is the responsible one – loving, nurturing and talented. Hannah’s second husband, Elliot (Michael Caine), lusts after Lee (Barbara Hershey), Hannah’s younger sister. Lee is in a long-term relationship with her former professor, Frederick (Max Von Sydow), but no longer feels sexually or intellectually satisfied by him. Then there’s the “free-spirited” sister, Holly (Dianne Wiest), an aspiring actress and entrepreneur who, in spite of all her bravado, still just wants an “old-fashioned” love when it comes to romance. She also has a friendship/situationship with Hannah’s first husband, Mickey (Woody Allen). If it sounds complicated and messy, good – because it is.
The story is told in three main arcs, with most of it occurring during the 24-month period between two Thanksgiving parties. Like almost all of Woody Allen’s movies, it takes place in New York, where our characters work in Manhattan’s two sexiest industries: art and money. Through these interweaving storylines, we learn all about everyone’s neuroses and why none of them have found happiness yet. Lee can’t commit to anyone, Mickey is a hypochondriac who thinks he has a brain tumor, Holly can’t seem to settle on a career path, and Hannah does what she can to keep her family together, while also taking care of her kids and dealing with an absent and unfaithful husband.
Remaining very much a part of their lives, for better or worse, are the girls’ parents, Evan and Norma (Lloyd Nolan and Maureen O’Sullivan), who each have failed hopes and dreams of their own. “They liked the idea of having children,” says Lee at one point, “but they were never very interested in raising them.”
Hannah and her Sisters has the narrative scope of a novel. Each section begins with a title or quotation on the screen, making the movie feel like a progression through the lives of its characters. By the end, the titles and quotations have made an ironic point: We try to organize our lives according to what we have read and learned and believed in, but our plans are often lost in a whirlwind of emotion.
The interactions between the sisters, both tender and tumultuous, reveal the dynamics of sibling relationships. From shared secrets and unspoken resentments to fierce loyalty and unconditional support, their bond navigates the ebb and flow of life’s changes – exploring themes like jealousy, rivalry, and the enduring love that transcends it all.
And, in true Woody Allen form, Hannah and Her Sisters is often hilarious in its honesty. Anyone with siblings will find something to love in this movie, as it delves into all the ways in which our family connections help shape our identities, influence our choices and ultimately contribute to our growth as individuals.
While Annie Hall remains at the top of Woody Allen’s movies, Hannah and Her Sisters is darn close. It’s funny, charming, witty, clever, and well-acted – but, most of all, it’s relatable. Whether you’re a worrywart who thinks every ailment is cancer or a creative maniac who can’t seem to commit to a career path, Hannah and Her Sisters is a movie your inner crazy definitely needs to see.
A Room with a View
Director: James Ivory
Starring: Helena Bonham Carter, Julian Sands, Maggie Smith, Denholm Elliott, Daniel Day-Lewis, Simon Callow, Rosemary Leach, Rupert Graves, Patrick Godfrey, Judi Dench, Fabia Drake, Joan Henley, Amanda Walker, Maria Britneva, Mia Fothergill, Peter Cellier
Oscar Wins: Best Art Direction, Best Costume Design, Best Writing (Adapted Screenplay)
Other Nominations: Best Supporting Actor (Denholm Elliott), Best Supporting Actress (Maggie Smith), Best Director, Best Cinematography, Best Picture
OK here’s the deal – I’ve about had it with writing about these gushy period dramas. They’re so long and boring to watch…and even more boring to read and write about…so I’m going to give you the Reader's Digest version and let these memes that my husband created act as the review for this one. I promise you won’t be disappointed!
A young Englishwoman, Lucy Honeychurch (Helena Bonham Carter) and her chaperone, Charlotte Bartlett (Maggie Smith) are vacationing in Italy. They’re mad because their room doesn’t have a view (rich people problems). At dinner, they complain, as rich Brits do in these films, and a fellow guest named Mr. Emerson (Denholm Elliott) offers to switch rooms with them.
While walking around town one day, Lucy witnesses a brutal murder and faints…but George Emerson (Julian Sands), Mr. Emerson’s son, spots her and comes to her aid. They have a brief discussion before returning home.
Later Charlotte, Lucy and the Emersons head to the countryside. A very horny George tries to make the move on Lucy, but Charlotte catches them and freaks out – bringing Lucy back to England.
Back home, Lucy becomes engaged to Cecil Vyse (Daniel Day Lewis), a wealthy and socially prominent man who is also cold, snobby and pretentious. He loves Lucy, but she’s also inferior to his high social status.
Things seem fine until – wouldn’t you know it – George and his father arrive to town. George’s presence upends Lucy’s life – and now she has to decide between George – certainly a closeted homosexual who doesn’t know how to kiss women, and Cecil – certainly a closeted homosexual who doesn’t know how to treat women. Every interaction with Lucy and Cecil is awkward, including their first kiss which literally sent me into a rage.
But things get better when the Reverend Mr. Beebe (Simon Callow), who just kind of…hangs around the entire time…enjoys a very gay bath with George and Freddy Honeychurch (Rupert Graves), Lucy’s brother. The three men strip down to their naughty bits and flounce about, chasing each other around a small lake.
It is, and I mean this with the utmost respect, the gayest scene I’ve seen in a long time.
The end of the film is pretty stereotypical. Lucy breaks up with both boys before realizing where her heart really belongs…in Italy…in a room…with a view. Aww!
Though I poked fun at it, A Room with a View is actually pretty good compared to other period dramas. Parts of it are pretty engaging and there’s actually quite a bit of comedy compared to other films in this genre. It also might be worth seeing for DDL’s unhinged performance, as well as the bathing scene featuring quite a view of not one, but three wieners.
Platoon
Director: Oliver Stone
Starring: Charlie Sheen, Tom Berenger, Willem Dafoe, Keith David, Forest Whitaker, Francesco Quinn, Kevin Dillon, John C. McGinley, Reggie Johnson, Mark Moses, Corey Glover, Johnny Depp, Chris Pedersen, Bob Orwig, Corkey Ford, David Neidorf, Richard Edson, Tony Todd, Dale Dye, Paul Sanchez
Oscar Wins: Best Film Editing, Best Sound, Best Director, Best Picture
Other Nominations: Best Supporting Actor (Tom Berenger), Best Supporting Actor (Willem Dafoe), Best Writing (Original Screenplay), Best Cinematography
Since the end of the Vietnam War, numerous films have tried, with varying degrees of success, to capture one of the most contentious American conflicts of the 20th century. Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now; Michael Cimino’s The Deer Hunter; Oliver Stone’s Born on the Fourth of July. If all of those films are slaps to the face, Oliver Stone’s other film, Platoon, is a punch to the gut.
As a Vietnam veteran himself, Oliver Stone aimed to write and direct a movie about the war that was not fantasy, not legend, not metaphor, not symbolism, but simply a memory of his own experience. It’s narrated by a young soldier (Charlie Sheen), a middle-class college student who volunteers for the war because he considers it his patriotic duty. Little does he know what’s really in store for him.
There are no heroics in Platoon, no standard heroes. The narrator is quickly at the point of physical collapse, overcome with exhaustion, fear, and pain – not to mention the agonizing ants, snakes, and gnats that are essentially barriers to sleep. Here, war is not fun. Here, war is hell.
There are also no politics. This movie isn’t concerned about the rights or wrongs of being in Vietnam. This is a film built on concrete principles: survival, counting down the days until a tour of duty is over, living each moment with death hovering over you. The Vietnamese are the enemy – not because of their political beliefs – but because they’re shooting to kill.
Platoon recounts the tour of duty of Chris Taylor (Sheen), beginning when he arrives as a fresh recruit and ending when he is helicoptered out after being seriously injured. There are no plot points in between to lead us from place to place – instead, like the characters, we’re usually disoriented. Any shot might be aimed at a friend or enemy, and in the desperate rush of combat, many soldiers never have a clear idea of exactly who they are shooting at, or why.
Chris’ loyalty is torn between two of his sergeants: Barnes (Tom Berenger), is a gruff, no-nonsense veteran who expects the same degree of brutality from his men that he himself displays. And Elias (Wilem Dafoe), is a fierce fighter who has not lost sight of the fact that the men serving under him are still human beings. While Barnes and Elias are obviously pitted against each other from the start, a frightening sequence in which Elias stops Barnes from executing a small Vietnamese child divides the platoon in two.
Throughout all these moments, Platoon illustrates the dehumanizing power of war. Barnes is the ultimate killing machine. In his mind, any action is justified if it ends with the enemy dying. Elias has retained some of his humanity, but there are moments he can act just as decisively as Barnes. Chris enters the story as an innocent, but before the film has ended, he has lost control more than once and becomes just as efficient in killing as Barnes.
The Vietnam War is one of the central moral and political issues of the last century for Americans. It has inspired many great films, each of which has covered a different angle – from mental health to politics, violence to pacifism. Though brutal, Platoon offers a simple message – one that echoes what’s said at the Vietnam Memorial in Washington DC – that before you can make any vast, sweeping statements about Vietnam, you have to begin by understanding the bottom line: that a lot of people went over there and got killed, and that is what the war meant for them.
The Mission
Director: Roland Joffe
Starring: Robert De Niro, Jeremy Irons, Ray McAnally, Aidan Quinn, Cherie Lunghi, Ronald Pickup, Chuck Low, Monirak Sisowath, Liam Neeson, Bercelio Moya, Sigifredo Ismare, Asuncion Ontiveros, Alejandrino Moya, Daniel Berrigan, Rolf Gray, Alvaro Guerrero
Oscar Wins: Best Cinematography
Other Nominations: Best Art Direction, Best Music (Original Score), Best Costume Design, Best Film Editing, Best Director, Best Picture
Any colonizing film begins with a division in power. On one side, you have the imperialist plunderers, those who want to establish a trade in riches and slaves. On the other, you have the missionaries, looking to spread the word of Christ. In the middle, you have the natives – who are just trying to live their damn lives.
In The Mission, Father Gabriel (Jeremy Irons) is a Jesuit priest operating in Argentina in 1750. His seemingly innocuous task of preaching Christianity to the indigenous Guarani people is interrupted by Rodrigo Mendoza (Robert De Niro), a slave trader who sets up giant nets to catch and abduct members of Gabriel’s flock.
But everything starts to turn south for Mendoza when his girlfriend dumps him for his own brother at the town carnival. Mendoza obviously doesn’t take this well, stomping into the couple’s bedroom, calling his brother out, then stabbing him to death in the street. Dramatic, sir...but okay.
Afterwards he mopes around in the local monastery until Father Gabriel helps him get over it by making him lug a massive bag of armor twice the size of himself up the Iguazu Falls. This sort of works, if by “works” you mean “makes him have a nervous breakdown and turns him into a crazy religious fanatic”.
Soon Mendoza is a born-again Christian, helping to build a reduction in the jungle. But disaster looms in the form of Cardinal Altamirano (Ray McAnally), who has been sent to determine whether the missions will remain under the protection of the church.
At a public hearing, Altamirano listens as Gabriel explains that the Guarani are naturally spiritual people. Without the missions, they will have no protection from slavery, which is legal in Portuguese territory. Altamirano decides to visit the Jesuit settlements and is impressed by the economic prosperity he sees. He marvels at the craftsmanship of the artisans and the musical genius evident in the orchestras and choirs. All in all, Altamirano is deeply moved by the simple lifestyle and remarkable faith of the Guarani.
Nevertheless, he can’t disobey “the will of God”. Altamirano tells the natives they must leave their homeland – an order the Guarani don’t take to very well. They decide to defend their home and Mendoza, who has renounced his vow of obedience as a Jesuit, chooses to fight alongside them.
As for Father Gabriel, he refuses to abandon his congregation. As European troops close in on the mission, he assembles his young followers as a choir in front of the church. When their singing does not stop the attack, Gabriel’s only choice is to lead a procession of women and children into a hail of bullets, armed only with the sacraments and the cross.
In the end, neither man is what you might call “successful”. The Mission depicts the challenge of conscience that confronts us all in a world fueled by power, greed, and violence…and is a commentary on the holy trinity of our day and age: church, state, and capitalism.
Children of a Lesser God
Director: Randa Haines
Starring: William Hurt, Marlee Matlin, Piper Laurie, Philip Bosco, Allison Gompf, Bob Hiltermann, Linda Bove
Oscar Wins: Best Actress (Marlee Matlin)
Other Nominations: Best Actor (William Hurt), Best Supporting Actress (Piper Laurie), Best Writing (Adapted Screenplay), Best Picture
The first time I heard about Children of a Lesser God was when I saw it on Broadway in 2018…and the only reason I saw it on Broadway was to see Joshua Jackson make his Broadway debut. Sidenote, he was phenomenal!
I didn’t know much about the story going in. I knew it was about a deaf woman and figured the play was slightly ominous, especially with a title like that. I was quite surprised to learn that the play was actually pretty funny…and the movie was even better (and I say that as a TRUE Joshua Jackson fan!).
Children of a Lesser God is a love story between a young woman who is deaf and a rebellious teacher who believes she should learn how to read lips and speak phonetically. Starring Marlee Matlin (in an Oscar-winning debut) and William Hurt, the film is timeless in its romance but dated in its message.
It opens with Professor James Leeds (Hurt), a hearing teacher with a background in deaf education, arriving at the Governor Kittredge School for the Deaf in New England. Like Julia Roberts in Mona Lisa Smile or Richard Dryfuss in Mr. Holland’s Opus, James is passionate about helping his students reach their full potential. He plans to do this by teaching his deaf students to speak and showing them how to engage their other senses when it comes to things like dancing or listening to music.
His teaching methods are unorthodox, which helps engage his classroom of unmotivated students. In one particularly moving scene, he places a deaf girl’s hand on a speaker and blasts the song, “Boomerang”, teaching her to lip sync along with the thump-thump-thump of the sound blaring through the classroom. It’s a humbling moment that should make all those who can hear music thankful that they have that gift…even if what we have to listen to is boomerang-rang-rang!
One evening after class, James meets Sarah Norman (Matlin), a young deaf janitor who has lived at the school since the age of five. After realizing she can’t read lips, he offers to teach her to speak. This offer sparks something in Sarah and she responds that she has no interest in using her voice – signing works just fine for her – and she marches out of the room.
James tries a different approach: a date. Sarah agrees, leading to another beautiful moment in the film. After a particularly tense conversation, Sarah gets up to dance. She closes her eyes and sways beautifully to a rhythm only she can hear. Her dancing is fluid, moving, meaningful. We watch her…and we watch James watch her. By the end, one thing is abundantly clear – we all love Sarah.
Through more meaningful conversations, as well as a weird breech of protocol when James decides to visit Sarah’s mother in order to gather information on her, James starts to learn why Sarah refuses to use her voice. An abusive past makes it clear that Sarah’s resistance not only stems from the fear of how her voice will sound, but from a deeper place of emotional and psychological pain, which she thinks will resurface if she opens herself up to him.
As their relationship progresses, Sarah tries to bring James into her world as much as she can (and has much as he’s willing). They go to the ocean and Sarah uses sign language to illustrate what the waves sound like in her mind. The world she lives in is good for her – she has no interest in becoming more involved with the hearing world. Despite this, though, James still makes insensitive jokes that hint at his desire for Sarah to speak. Think, “Oh, babe, can you bring me the paper? Oh, wait, never mind. You didn’t hear me, anyway.” EYEROLL.
The tension between them continues to grow as their love pulls them closer, but their inability to communicate pulls them farther away. Sarah is hurt that James won’t just let her be herself, and James is hurt that Sarah won’t even TRY to talk to him in his own language. The pivotal moment comes when Sarah finally breaks, signing that, for her whole life, everyone has spoken for her…and until James understands that Sarah is her own person who can think for herself, he will never know her or her silence. James’ argument is that Sarah lives in a hearing world – and until she learns to speak, or at least read lips, she can’t live as an independent woman.
Children of a Lesser God is a beautifully crafted film that addresses numerous issues that are still debated within the deaf community today, namely whether or not those who are deaf or hard of hearing should have to learn new methods of speaking in order to communicate with the hearing population. As we’ve seen in recent films, like CODA and The Sound of Metal, there have been numerous advances made in speech education and hearing aids for deaf individuals since the 1980s; however, these innovations have also been subject to scrutiny, since many deaf advocates maintain that they are often forced to give up their identity in the name of assimilation.
Yet, Children of a Lesser God still makes a somewhat deliberate decision to exist in the hearing world. Marlee Matlin signs all of her dialogue, then William Hurt repeats it out loud, as if to himself, so we know what she’s saying. Every scene is from his point of view. Never do we experience Sarah’s silence. Never do we get her point of view. Even a few moments of us seeing James and not hearing him would have helped underline the true subject of this movie. Unfortunately, telling the whole story from James’ perspective turns Sarah into the challenge, the problem, which is the exact opposite message the movie is trying to convey.
Still, I loved this film. I adore Marlee Matlin in everything she’s in, and it’s truly amazing that this was her debut…and an Oscar-winning one, no less! Though Children of a Lesser God is certainly one of a few Oscar-nominated films about the deaf community, it’s also one of many films about the struggles of communication – and that is something almost all of us can relate to.
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