Cinema Six

     We all have a list of movie favorites.  Some have their own thought-out Top Ten while others have a less definitive list which usually comes to mind when a specific movie is found channel surfing or brought up in conversation:  "Oh, that's one of my favorites!".  My list is a combination of both.  I can rattle off my Top Ten in no particular order, but I'll often come across a forgotten movie that I can easily see replacing one of those ten.  Rocky was my first and earliest favorite, even though It's A Wonderful Life (which I didn't see until my 30's) came out thirty years earlier in 1946.  Schindler's List is so unnerving I have only watched it once, but I consider it a favorite.  When Harry Met Sally is my all-time favorite romantic comedy, and Hoop Dreams is my favorite documentary.

   I'm no Siskel or Ebert.  My analysis and opinions on what makes for a great movie is relegated to a few subjective must-haves: A terrific screenplay, great acting, and cinematography that captures the script's mood and characters' emotions perfectly.  Two of my Top Ten, Jaws and The Godfather, are examples.  Jaws is filled with iconic scenes, quotable quotes, and a spine-tingling score.  Quint's haunting storytelling of his experience on the S.S. Indianapolis is masterful in its character analysis and story deconstruction.  It gives depth to Quint's personality profile and the backstory of his vendetta toward sharks.  The darkened backdrop of the three shipmates' isolation on the nighttime waters encapsulates the ominous mood.  Quint ends his frightening soliloquy of blood and death with his own attempt at justifying the horrific experience he endured, saying: "Anyway...we delivered the bomb." 

      Michael Corleone's transformation in The Godfather from an educated, military veteran and innocent bystander of mafia crime to a ruthless killer and crime boss, is a psychological study worthy of its own college course.  New York City is not just the backdrop of the movie, but a visceral emprise for the viewer.  The clothes, hairstyles, cars, restaurants, and neighborhoods welcome one's eyes and mind into the world of 1940's mob life in hypnotic fashion.  The shadow-laden lighting style, coloring schemes, and camera angles complement the film's narrative exquisitely. 

    

Robert Shaw in JAWS

     Is it the movie script that makes for good characters, or is it the characters that make for a good movie?  Certainly, a great movie has both.  And a good script with interesting characters needs exceptional acting to make for a great movie.  Years ago, I made a collage poster of six different movie characters I really like.  The actors that portray these characters give outstanding performances and all these movies are unanimously critically acclaimed. Four of the six are on my Top Ten list.  And they all fit into my personal category of "If it's on TV when you're channel-surfing, you stop clicking and watch it".  No matter how many times you've seen it, and no matter at what point in the movie you happen upon it.  The six characters in my collage:

1. Norman Dale (Gene Hackman), Hoosiers

2. Rocky Balboa (Sylvester Stallone), Rocky

3. George Bailey (James Stewart), It's A Wonderful Life

4. Forrest Gump (Tom Hanks), Forrest Gump

5. Andy Dufresne (Tim Robbins), The Shawshank Redemption

6. John Keating (Robin Williams), Dead Poets' Society

     I had a general idea why I made this collage of characters.  All these movies are favorites of mine, and these characters are a big reason why.  The six actors are exceptional in every film they do. These specific character roles seem perfectly made for each one of them, and they all shine in their respective performance.  Staring at my poster recently and feeling a bit nostalgic about each character, I thought through a scene or two from each movie.  Which got me thinking.  What is it about this "Chosen Six" of mine that made them worthy of my Wall of Fame?

     Like Norman Dale in Hoosiers, I was a high school basketball coach, so that commonality has an obvious appeal.  I spent some time as a substitute teacher, so I can relate a little bit to teacher John Keating in Dead Poets.  But I have no occupational or life-experiencing similarity with the other characters.  I've never been a war hero or shrimp boat captain like Forrest Gump.  I've never been a boxer like Rocky Balboa, or even a boxing fan.  Ditto for banker Andy Dufresne and bank loan officer George Bailey.  

     Whether it be people we know, or people we don't know but whom we learn about, I think most of us emulate those we admire.  The character traits of people we consider impressive or honorable are those that we wish we had ourselves.  It's no different for fictional characters.  At least that's how I see it.  I saw Rocky for the first time as a 12-year-old.  It inspired me enough to imitate the boxer's breakfast of champions by gulping down a raw egg the next morning (he guzzled five, but I wasn't that inspired).  I bought a book of Walt Whitman's poems because he was Mr. Keating's favorite poet.  I'd still like to travel to Indianapolis and Butler University to visit Hinkle Fieldhouse, because that is the basketball gymnasium used for the high school championship game between fictional Hickory High and South Bend in Hoosiers.

     Naturally we see a bit of ourselves, accurately or not, in those we admire.  That comes with the egocentricity of being human.  But often to better ourselves, the role model is a motivating example through which we can look to improve.  My two-dimensional heroes on my wall are a reminder of what I could be, or whom I could be more like.  It's my daily reminder for potential and self-growth.  Not unlike someone with a book of spiritual affirmations by their bedside, or one of those corny, motivational posters of a rock climber or marathoner with words like "PERSEVERANCE" or "DETERMINATION" in large Baskerville font.  

     Gene Hackman in Hoosiers

      Norman Dale is given a second chance at a high school coaching job after being fired 10 years earlier as a college coach.  This second chance at doing something he was meant to do, gives him a rejuvenating, appreciative perspective. He gives second chances to two players who walked out on the team but later regretted doing so.  He also gives the town's alcoholic despot a job as an assistant coach in an effort to help him gain a positive direction in his life.  Coach Dale's pay-it-forward outlook is another version of the golden rule.

     Rocky Balboa is not the smartest person in Philadelphia.  His part-time jobs as a thumb-breaking street collector for a two-bit mob figure and a local club boxer isn't the reward of a higher education. Despite his unfavorable circumstances, he doesn't blame or punish others for his bad luck.  He's a guy with a good heart.  He's unselfish, and kind to others.  He's not one of these jerks who tries to bully others because of his own shortcomings.  Instead of holding grudges, he forgives his abrasive manager Mickey and his friend Paulie for treating him poorly.  

     George Bailey is the patron saint of altruism.  Never thinking of himself first, George makes self-sacrifice after self-sacrifice so others can have something extra.  It comes at a cost to his own dreams of seeing the world, going to college, and career prosperity, none of which come to fruition.  Something very difficult to swallow for a man of his intelligence and work ethic.  Yet despite years of personal and financial struggle, he reaps the rewards of his selfless ways: The realization of the immense impact he has had on so many others, and the appreciation for the wonderful gifts of family, friends, and joys of living.

     Forrest Gump is the adult version of a child who never lost the correct manners and politeness he learned as a boy. The hardships of adulthood and the cold, cruel world doesn't change that about him.  He remains the caring, selfless, respectful, morally disciplined person he was taught to be as a child by his mother.  

     Andy Dufresne was an aloof and pretentious weakling in both body and spirit.  That was his friend and fellow inmate Red's first impression.  That judgement was quickly debunked once we saw Andy handle repeated beatings, and how his 19 years of imprisonment never broke him.  "Hope" is the centerpiece of his mindset, which keeps him as sane as one can expect to be in prison.  Hope for a life beyond concrete walls, hope for his fellow prisoners, and hope for a future life of peace and tranquility.  Andy shows his selfless and altruistic side throughout, helping other inmates anytime he could.

      John Keating has a passion for teaching and a unique and effective way of inspiring his students to tap into the wonderous gifts and talents he knows they all have.  How does he do this? By lighting for them a flame of introspection, using poetic words and examples that offer meaning and purpose to their lives that previously lay dormant. 

Robin Williams in Dead Poets' Society 

     What I love about these characters is they are all men of principle and integrity, uncompromising when it comes to standing up for what is right.  Rocky Balboa never lost his proletarian mentality and work ethic, despite going from rags to riches.  George Bailey never buckled to the town's villainous robber baron, even if it meant financial reward.  Norman Dale didn't bend to the wishes of the townspeople on how to manage his basketball team.  John Keating taught his students to become free-thinkers and not let the established rules and norms of their surroundings limit their passions or experiences.  Forrest Gump remained loyal to and rewarded those who treated him with decency and respect when most others didn't.  Andy Dufresne paid an unjustly awful price as an innocent man but still managed to avoid self-pity and help his fellow inmates when he could. With their educations, by building a prison library, or providing them a free man's indulgence of music or a beer.

     All of these men inspired those around them in word and action.  Each one in their own way had an impact on the greater good of their community.  All the while with humility, compassion, and altruism, and without an ounce of self-serving motivation.  Fictional or not, these characters I admire and use as examples of how to be.  My collage is my daily reminder of what defines integrity, passion, and character.  It's a reminder of the best of people and the best in people.  It's a reminder of whatever similar strengths I have or lack.   And it's a motivator for improving upon those admirable traits that they have.  A Rembrandt or a Picasso on my wall wouldn't do all that for me. But my $40 photoshopped framed poster does.  And that's all I have to say about that.