Julius Caesar (1953)

 "Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life cuts off so many years of fearing death."

I'm utterly knackered today after a long, difficult drive and the emotional drop after dropping Little Miss Llamastrangler back at her mum's after a wonderful half term week, so I wanted to watch something undemanding and... yeah, it's Shakespeare. But I've seen this version before in my youth and was curious to see it again, and this is the play I've seen on screen the most for some reason.

This is, of course, sublime cinematic Shakespeare. James Mason excels as Brutus who is, I suppose, the closest we come to a main protagonist: it was certainly the part later played by Charlton Heston in his later version, not comparable to this but fascinating in its own way. The direction, the sets, all is at once suitably cinematic yet at the same time appropriately intimate in ways that suits Shakespeare who, writing for the Elizabethan stage, focused by necessity on dialogue rather than complex spectacle.

Yet there are two obvious stand-out performances by two truly great actors who, incidentally, both exemplify different schools of acting, both done to perfection- the traditional stage approack of John Gielgud and the method, er, method of Marlon Brando. Gielgud is the perfect Cassius. Yet Brando as Mark Antony steals the show. Antony doesn't have as much prominence in the play as one might think, but he certainly has the big soliloquys. And Brando performs them in a way that may never be surpassed, perhaps showing once and for all that the best of Hollywood can approach Shakespeare with utter confidence. Making no attempt to pointlessly do a fake British accent, Brando brings an intensity to the part that makes the words come alive. It is, perhaps, the single greatest Shakespeare performance ever committed to film.

So, yeah, this is a truly great film. It also shows how the same Shakespeare play can speak to you in different ways each time you see it, perhaps shaped by the differences in direction, performance, version of the text. Here I was struck by the many references to the inevitability of death and how one must manage one's fear and existential dread that we are all mortal. Death is the only certainty in life.

Yet the one line that struck me most this time came not from one of the characters but from the Roman crowd as Brutus makes his speech: "Let him be Caesar!". Brutus and the conspirators do their bloody deed, ostensibly for liberty and so that the Roman Republic may not know another Tarquin, yet the masses utterly miss the point, thereby showing that such scruples are futile in the long run... and, of course, young Octavian waits in the wings, he and Antony dissing poor Lepidus behind his back...

So, yeah. Nice simple film for knackered old me.

Fantastic Voyage (1966)

"The antibodies will attack as if she were bacteria!"

This is a very silly film, played incredibly straight and, what’s even weirder, what looks and acts like a sci-fi B Movie is helmed by a proper Hollywood director and seemingly lavished with cash..

The performances are a cut above what you can expect from a B movie, with Donald Pleasance standing out as (spoilers) the baddie. We sort of know we’re not supposed to like Dr Michaels when he suggests that the wonders of the human body may have arisen through evolution, as confirmed many times over by empirical observation, as opposed to being a literal “miracle”.

The whole thing is surprisingly focused, with very little framing device; with the minimum of fuss a team is put into a submarine, shrunk and injected into the bloodstream of the ill man who absolutely must be cured because plot reasons. It begins quickly, ends abruptly and consists of various perils from the human body in-betweeen, with the realisation of the bloodstream, the heart and various organs being actually pretty impressive. Meanwhile there’s a bunch of fretting military types watching their progress, in scenes that must surely have inspired Airplane!

It’s all very ‘60s spy film, sent in the present day in a large government facility with massive corridors that looks like a Bond villain hideout, complete with those cool little cars. There’s only one token woman, of course, and she’s an assistant. And, er, Raquel Welch is playing a character called Cora. Yes, Cora.

But what’s extraordinary about this film is, firstly, that it actually looks pretty damn good and gets away visually with the premise, but mainly in the way it carries out the Lost art of doing something very, very silly with absolute seriousness. They don’t make them like this any more...

The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962)

"I'm staying. And I'm not buying a gun either."

I don't know too much about Westerns; unless you count the ones by Akira Kurosawa I've only seen The Magnificent Seven, A Fistful of Dollars and Back to the Future Part III, and the first two of those were many years ago. But The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance has made a huge impression on me. It's the most profound experience I've had watching a film in recent months. I'm only vaguely aware of the tropes and themes of serious Westerns, but this film has so much subtext I hardly know where to begin. Plus it taught me the etymology of the word "dude", which apparently predates Bill and Ted by a century and a half. Who'd have thunk it?

Much of the film takes place in flashback and structurally would doubtlessly reward repeat viewings. Rance (a likeable and charismatic James Stewart), now a senator, returns with his wife Hallie to a town much changed by the advent of rail travel and the amenities it brings. They are there for the funeral of Tom Doniphon, a fascinating character; cue extended flashback.

A young Rance, travelling by the inevitable stagecoach, is moving west straight from law school. Immediately we have a character representing law and order moving towards an area synonymous with lawlessness, and this thematic tension informs the whole film; justice versus revenge. It's not the kind of cultural reference one usually associates with Westerns, I assume, but I'm reminded of Aeschylus' Oresteia, albeit with a much more ambiguous conclusion. But for now we simply observe Rance trying and failing to apply the rules he knows to his new environment. Liberty Valance will not, as we will see, be tried, convicted and imprisoned.

Rance's antithesis- and love rival- is Tom Doniphon, a hugely watchable and charismatic John Wayne- oh, and did his catchphrase "pilgrim", must beloved of Preacher, come just from this film? Tom is none too intellectual, very old-fashioned with the ladies to put it mildly, and at ease with the rough justice of the west. He's also obviously the alpha male, something which it seems at this point that Rance will never be.

Nevertheless, stubbornly law-abiding Rance begins to have an effect on the town, teaching literacy and generally acting as a mild civilising influence, even rousing the whole (male) town to exercise their franchise and vote in favour of statehood, which is clearly not so much a metaphor of a state of law and civilisation than, well, quite literally that. Men like Rance (and they are men at this time) have power in a state that they do not in a mere territory, and those like Valance, who thrive from lawlessness, are naturally prepared to use violence to prevent the end of their natural habitat.

Rance is slowly gaining in stature and confidence, though. It's precisely his civilising tendencies that lead Hallie to abandon alpha male Tom for him, a sure sign of the way the wind is blowing. But he inevitably ends up in a shootout with Valance... and inexplicably winning, seemingly abandoning all his principles. And yet, as we eventually discover in the film's big reveal, the shooter was in fact a hidden Tom. The character personifying rough justice eventually, despite misgivings, paves the coming of law and order. But he's yesterday's man, and all he can do is provide a future for others, not himself. He's a tragic yet compelling figure.

The flashback ends, we return to the present, and eberyone decides to ignore the inconvenient fact that Rance, who owes his popularity to having killed Valance and now feels quite firmly as though he belongs in a town which has now firmly adapted to his values, did no such thing. Everyone decides to ignore the truth and print the legend. But then, don't we all when it comes to the Old West?