Bright Star

There are only four movies I can think of that captured such incredible loveliness in music, story and scenery: Cold Mountain, Pride and Prejudice, Atonement, and The New World. Bright Star has now been added to this list. Telling the tragic tale of Fanny Brawne and John Keats, this film was equally beautiful to watch and experience. I didn’t know much of Keats besides that he was a poet of great reputation, but this story, told mostly from the perspective of Fanny, was enthralling, enchanting, tragic and in ways obsessive. The entire thing wreaked of suffocation. The inability to be free, to do as you please, to live and love, no healthy lung full’s of anything. They clung quietly to each other, as if under water. One of my favorite moments, for I had many, was when Keats was describing to Fanny what poetry is, that if it isn’t natural it’s no good at all; that it’s about expressing things they way they are felt rather than literally- like diving into a lake.

I thought a lot about that quote and what it meant to me personally. I am no poet, but I do think of things artistically and I was never really able to explain my feelings about art in a way that was enough, that was equal, Keats did this in that one quote. It also explains my love of swimming. But the costumes were unparallel, each character defined and dictated perfectly, each scene a masterpiece of images: the filed of blue flowers, Toots coming down a stairway to a bowl of apples at a window, Fanny’s room with the butterflies and curtain blowing, Fanny’s gowns in candlelight. It was all so unmistakable. And sad. It was all so sad. It was obvious it would all end terribly, but… I know what that’s like. In every moment, I thought, I know what that’s like. I wouldn’t say I identified with any of the characters, but their situations were familiar. It’s hard and unfair, and that’s how good stories are made.

Cat Ballou

So this movie was hilarious. I think I first watched it when I was really young, like too young to remember, and definitely too young to understand it. All I remember is the ending scene which I caught a couple of times over the years. It must have made an impression though because I named my childhood bear Ballou, on account of this movie and, of course, the Jungle Book. Cat Ballou is the story of an aspiring schoolteacher traveling by train who unwittingly helps Clay Boone (so dreamy) elude his captor. She reaches her father's ranch to find that the Wolf City Development Corporation is trying to take the ranch away from her father, whose only defender is an educated Indian, Jackson Two-Bears (also dreamy). Clay and Jed appear and reluctantly offer to help Cat. She also hires legendary gunfighter Kid Shelleen (Lee Marvin) to come and help protect her father from fast-drawing Tim Strawn (also Marvin, funny), alias Silvernose, the hired killer who is threatening Frankie.

Strawn kills Frankie, and when the townspeople refuse to bring him to justice, Catherine becomes a revenge-seeking outlaw known as Cat Ballou. She and her four gang members rob a train carrying the Wolf City payroll, and Shelleen, inspired by his love for Cat (unrequited because she loves Clay), shapes up and kills Strawn. Later he casually reveals that Strawn was his brother. Love it. It gets better.

Cat poses as a lady of loose morals and confronts town boss Sir Harry Percival (this is the part I've seen at least five times), owner of the Wolf City Development Corporation. A struggle ensues, Sir Harry is killed, and Cat is sentenced to be hanged on the gallows. Just after the noose is placed around her neck, Uncle Jed (again as a fake preacher) cuts the rope as she falls through the trapdoor. Her gang then spirits her away in a daring rescue. I think westerns were more a part of my childhood than I realize. Cat Ballou was perhaps my first feminist role model...

Dances With Wolves

Now, I hate Kevin Costner, but I love Dances With Wolves. Maybe I love him as a director, but just not as an actor. Every other movie he's in I literally can't stand. The Bodyguard? Seriously? Bull Duram? No thanks. Maybe I just love that old wild west, cowboys and Indians. But it's more than that. I can admit it's more than that. I feel like every time I watch that movie I'm able to take something new away from it. When I was little I loved his reverence and sentimentality for his animals, when I got older I loved the love story, and now I love the historical aspects of it. The soundtrack is really good, the cinematography is epic, the story is original and endearing. You know what I think it is? I think it's that, basically, through the whole movie, Costner is being made fun of. He's not so pretentious and self-centered as he seems to come off in other roles. In this role he's playing the learner, we get to watch him struggle and squirm, and I like watching him be uncomfortable because I don't like him! Either way, it's the one time when I can say it's good acting on his part. You know it's a good movie when one of the scenes that really stays with you is in the opening sequence: After he's been told he needs his legs amputated and her pulls on his boots, gets on his horse and rides in front of the enemy lines. That slow motion shot of him with his arms open, chest out, not wincing, not flinching, just waiting. When I was six I was run over, my legs were torn to shreds and the only thing keeping my feet from separating from my ankles was a pair of leather hiking boots. I guess when it happened, I thought of that scene and I guess I thought I was going to die. I mean all that blood when you're that little will make you think that, but all I could think was, "Get my horse! Get me out of here!"

Blazing Saddles

I think I was nine when I first saw Blazing Saddles, it was the first Mel Brooks movie I ever saw and the first time I ever heard the 'N' word used in a movie as a "joke". It was also the first time I ever had a crush on a black man. But I mean, come on, Cleavon Little was hot, hilarious, and witty, what's not to like. (Gene Wilder was a close second.)Filled with some of the funniest characters, Western or otherwise- with Slim Pickens as Taggart, Harvey Korman as Hedley Lamarr (It's 'HEAD-ly'),Madeline Kahn as Lili Von Shtupp (hilarious woman, very much an idol of mine, that accent alone kills me)and Mel Brooks as Governor William J. Lepetomane (and an Indian Chief ["You're darken then we are!" HAHAHA! love it.]) Blazing Saddles has held a special place in my heart for a long time. My dad's favorite scene was when the cowboys are around the camp fire and they're all eating beans and farting, yes, farting stirs all kinds of nostalgia for me... Apparently, after screening the movie, the head of Warner Brothers Pictures complained about the use of the 'N' word, the campfire scene and Mongo punching a horse, and told Brooks to remove all these elements from the film. Brooks' contract gave him control of the final cut, so the complaints were disregarded and all three elements were retained in the film with it holding the distinction of being the first film to display "flatulence". Awesome. Obviously, watching it now, I get alot more of the humor, but at nine it was pretty good for a laugh.

Spirited Away

Voiced by Matt Damon, 'Spirit' follows a wild Mustang stallion, living free in the Old West. He's captured by horse traders and sold to a cavalry regiment at a frontier outpost. There, a cruel colonel (voice of James Cromwell and somewhat resembling Colonel Mustard) nearly succeeds in breaking the willful horse. Spirit escapes in the company of a captive Native American, Little Creek (voice of Daniel Studi) that tries to possess the magnificent animal by more humane means, but Spirit refuses to bend to human will even when he makes the acquaintance of Little Creek's fiercely loyal mare, Rain. After he saves Little Creek's life in an Army raid, Spirit believes that the gravely injured Rain has died after a tumble over a waterfall. Despondent, the horse is captured again by humans, enslaved this time for work in a pack team on the transcontinental railroad. Still strong, Spirit manages to escape for a reunion with Little Creek, Rain, and his long-lost herd.

One of the things I loved the most about Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron was that it differs from other examples of its genre in that the horse do not speak or sing; only Spirit's voice is heard as voice-over narration. I am not lame for loving this movie. The first time I saw it, only saw the very end scene with the horse running with the eagle and I was inspired. I saw to the middle again about a year and half later, but only saw to where Rain dies and I was crushed! Then, I saw it at the Robinson and my little 5 year old heart was all a-flutter. I love horses. They are the most magical animals... ever. I don't know why I love them so much. They are so graceful and strong and natural. They symbolize and embody everything I love about the old west, Native American culture, and the ideas I harbor about the unsettle North American continent. Ever since I was a little kid and learned about Native Americans I have been fascinated by their culture and the land's unsettled appeal. I mean, it was a completely foreign concept that the buildings and world as I knew it didn't always look like that. That fields and trees were expansive without buildings anywhere. I also grew up by a creek with lots of parks, so I have always loved and had huge nostalgia and respect for nature. As much of a Texan as I claim to be, I really don't have much history with Westerns, but I loved Spirit and Pocahontas and other Native American children's tales. They just speak to a very innocent, natural part of me. I love horses. I love the way they show the little mare with almost dog like qualities of playfulness.