Free Run House – Fixed Bayonets!
At POWSO, we welcome guest contributions. This week, Mason kicks off his Free Run House feature to help you navigate the jungle of free movies on the internet to find the occasional gem.
An increasing number of folks are tapping into the multimedia possibilities which bandwidth offers with the likes of YouTube and Pandora. So too, the long form medium of the feature film has, with increasing frequency, begun to reach the monitors of film fans looking for a quick – and free-movie hit. Most major motion pictures, if they are offered online at all, are restricted to pay services, leaving most free and legal streaming video sites like Hulu with significantly limited options of forgotten studio backlog pictures and copyright-orphaned public domain films. However, within the greater body that makes up the catalogs of such sites remains a multitude of great film repertoires. This column is devoted to separating the wheat from the chaff, and discovering some of the cinematic gems that may be viewed for free by anyone with an internet connection.
Fixed Bayonets! (1951 dir. Samuel Fuller) 92 minutes
Sam Fuller's set for Fixed Bayonets.
Where You Can Find it for Free: http://www.hulu.com/fixed-bayonets
There was a time when the genre of the studio War film did not necessarily entail the important ethical and moral ambiguities which – perhaps responsibly, often heavy-handedly – constitute the genre as it is now generally known. Films like The Hurt Locker (2009) and Rescue Dawn (2006) are now considered exceptional, for their sole interest lies in the action of their limited protagonists rather than the philosophical soliloquizing of man’s inhumanity to man. For these films, the grand meditations take place outside of the film’s space, allowing their dialogue to take place in the stimulated viewer’s mind. More common is a direct engagement with the tragedy of war. The nature of the dual narratives of Eastwood’s Iwo Jima pictures, for instance, necessitates the tragic mode of viewership, the impossibility of concrete answers in the face of shocking violence and the same-but-different, unutterable psychological impact this has on veterans.
In an earlier age of film making, the limited scope and a non-didactic approach to making a War film was more common. This is not to say that old studio films portrayed war in a naive way, though this too was common. John Ford’s time photographing the front lines of the European theater in World War II included his being present at the storming of Omaha Beach. William Wyler, who had also photographed Western Europe during the war, turned down the opportunity to direct The Sound of Music with the scathing admonishment: “I just can’t bear to make a picture about all those nice Nazis.” The veteran auteur tended to make a different film than those filmmakers who stayed home.
Fixed Bayonets! (1951), complete with an ostentatious exclamation point, seems at first to be another low-budget propaganda film crafted to get America’s young boys excited to go to war someday. Instead, it is a remarkably strong, obviously low-budget B-picture made in the earliest phase of the Korean War that manages to hold up in many unexpected ways. The story follows forty-odd American soldiers who are chosen to stay behind and make enough of a ruckus to convince the oncoming Korean army that they are the entire thousands-strong American force once garrisoned in that position.
Sam Fuller on the set cuing a scene with his handy gun.
Director Samuel Fuller, the cigar-chomping, irascible icon of B-movie masterpieces, was a veteran of World War II. Given to replacing the use of the word “Action” on-set with a blast from his .45, Fuller was a director with an eye for tension. His pictures tend to punctuate themselves with expertly photographed moments of nail-biting discomfort at just the right time to keep the flow of the film perfectly intact. Whether it be his extraordinarily humble directorial debut I Shot Jesse James (1949), the nearly perfect psychological drama Shock Corridor (1963), or his late work like the unjustly banned (now on Criterion DVD) White Dog (1982), Fuller was always conscious of the moments which would constitute pure film drama. In Fixed Bayonets! there are several high-anxiety scenes, but Fuller manages to put his eggs in the one basket that he knows will pay off: a classic minefield gag. This scene runs on for several minutes of near-silence and is alone worth the price of admission (but, it’s still free).
There is, of course, much more to be found in this straight-forward, not-so-straight-forward tale of “heroes:” an obvious backdrop, fake snow, actors worth a damn and words of steel and testosterone. Fuller’s film doesn’t care about why we’re at war, and neither do his soldiers. This is a movie about survival in the face of a cold and bleak landscape populated by at least one bullet with your name on it. There is a mechanical precision to this old-school 90-minute tour of the Korean War. Give it a shot, and turn yourself on to one of the less well-known American auteurs of a bygone age.
Bonus: The Rifle, the Typewriter & the Movie Camera (1996)
One of several feature-length Sam Fuller documentaries is available on YouTube.
Where You Can Find it for Free:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D1EF369uQeo
I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell Trailer
For those of you who know it, which should be a fair number, I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell is the best-selling collection of exploits of one man who is inarguably the epitome of the chauvanist-douchebag-American college boy. Tucker Max’s book has been a cult phenomenon, causing almost as many people to burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter as those who either refuse to read it on principle or those who think the book is absolute filth who think he should be tried and hung for even attempting to claim.
IHTSBIH has long been a personal favorite of mine. While I, in no way, approve of his views or treatment of women, lifestyle, or general attitude and personality, I can enjoy the antics of his adventures and tales through the removed party perspective of reading the book. Just like some great films may say things we don’t necessarily agree with personally, it comes to a question of: do we have to agree with the implicit messages and principles of an author and their work to be able to find amusement from it? My answer: Yes and no. Yes if you want to hold the piece up as truly great or classic. No, if you just want to enjoy it (this is why I went to see Transformers 2 and had a decent enough time).
Either way, the book’s stories have been flung together to a feature length film, and the trailer has just been released. From what I can tell, some of the book’s best parts have made it into the film, and I’m personally excited to see the results. I highly suggest you borrow a copy from a friend (I guarantee you know someone who owns it) or borrow it from the library if you have qualms about throwing money at Tucker Max and what he stands for. Take down the walls a bit though, and you’re sure to encounter a collection of stories, and possibly a film, that’ll be a wonderful romp:
I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell Official Trailer
Lawrence of Arabia in 70mm Puts HD to Shame
70mm > you.
As an unemployed college graduate, I have an absurd amount of time with nothing to do but shed tears over the current job market. Fed up with daily prowls on Craig’slist, I decided to take advantage of my surroundings and do something I have always wanted to do: view Lawrence of Arabia on a big-screen projected in 70mm.
In various film classes during my undergraduate education, I read about the spectacle and beauty of Lawrence of Arabia. I received the DVD as a birthday present, but after several attempts to view it on my television, I decided that I needed to see the film in a movie theater. Through the wonders of the Internet I discovered that American Cinemateque screens the 1962 classic at either the Egyptian Theater in Hollywood or at the Aero Theater in Santa Monica. However, it seemed that whenever I wanted to catch a screening, I was busy with finals or other academic obligations.
Well, now I’m a bum. Rather than devote my time to daytime television or Internet poker, I decided it was time once and for all to check out the film that inspired a generation of filmmaker’s, including Steven Spielberg, George Lucas and Martin Scorsese.
While the Egyptian may have upper hand on the Aero in terms of architecture, there was something special about seeing the illuminated marquee of the Aero light up the Santa Monica block. Popcorn and drink prices were far more reasonable than at the usual multiplex, with $6 fetching me a decent serving of both. I suppose I was uniformed on the popularity of the Lawrence screenings because I quickly discovered that it was a sold out crowd. However, I have always preferred watching films with a large audience. It is a collective cultural experience that is difficult to mimic with home theater systems. With crowds, funny moments seem funnier, scary parts are scarier and so on.
Seeing Lawrence of Arabia in a theater is more akin to a night at the opera or out on Broadway then an outing to a movie theater. Aside from its three and half hour run time and midpoint intermission, like an opera Lawrence of Arabia begins with a musical overture. As the theater’s sound system blasted through the musical selection, the lights began to slowly dim, cuing the audience to take their seat. The film began soon after the overture and I was captivated me for the film’s entire 3.5 hour-long run time.
Lawrence of Arabia is a masterpiece, but that’s really no surprise. Cinephiles and audiences have been saying that since it was first released in 1962. The performances were superb, the score was beautiful and the cinematography was absolutely mind-blowing.
Prior to my experience with Lawrence last week, I had never seen a film projected in 70mm. I was completely blown away by the clarity and crispness of each image. A little before the film’s intermission, Lawrence and his gang take the city of Aqaba. Following their victory, Lawrence rides his horse along the shore during the sunset. The lighting, composition and color arrangement is some of the most beautiful I have ever seen in my entire life. This stuff makes HD look like low-budget pornography. As I marveled at the way in which each shot outdid itself in beauty, I could not help but think about the state of current filmmaking.
Since the early 2000’s, many filmmakers (especially George Lucas) have sang the praises of digital filmmaking and the digital revolution. HD cameras and CGI have opened up unlimited possibilities for future movie makers throughout the world. However, for all the limitations that seemingly disappear with the wonders of computer technology, it must be said that no matter how close computer’s get to looking like real life they will never be the same as reality itself.
Lawrence of Arabia (shot on film) and Star Wars: Episode II – Attack of the Clones (shot on digital) use the same location, the Plaza de Espana. But the beauty of the location and the detail of its intricate architecture did not come across on the digital format the same way it did on 70mm. After seeing the location projected in both film and digital, the truth is that film just looked better.
When the lights came up on my adventure into Santa Monica and into the world of Lawrence of Arabia, I was left me with something more than just witnessing one of the greatest film’s ever made. My brain hurt trying to imagine the ways in which cinematographer Freddie Young studied and composed each of the shots in the film. There were no computer’s available to enhance those scenes. I realized that, while digital technology brings the means of production into more homes, it cannot hide, mask or compensate laziness. Nor can it produce talent and creativity. Technology is simply a tool and depending on how you use it, you’ll either end up with a film like Transformers, or a masterpiece like Lawrence of Arabia.
Declaration of a Film Junkie
From the set of "Patient 1221," trying to look all director like.
I am Gerry. I love movies. I love movies probably more than I should. As a child and proud member of the VCR generation, I would consistently watch Batman, Star Wars, Toy Story, and Cinderella (gotta love Jaq and Guss). My love of movies was so deep that it felt like just watching them was not enough. I would venture out into my backyard and continue the journeys of my favorite film characters through toys, or if necessary, large pieces of cardboard. I lived to recreate Batman racing through the woods of Gotham with my action figures, I used my bicycle as an X-Wing fighter making the trench run, I carried pull-string Woody on every family errand and I would consistently tell my parents that I wanted to watch “Rella” again.
After being born in raised in the sunny San Fernando Valley (porn capital of the world), I decided to venture into north east Los Angeles and attend Occidental College. When I got to college I decided to major in politics. I figured studying film was the equivalent of shooting yourself in the foot when it came to finding a job after college. It was time I focused on something more adult and realistic.
This “adult” line off thinking didn’t last very long. After one year and two film classes, I was hooked. Now I am an over educated asshole who wanders this world as a “Film and Media Studies” major. What does that mean? It means I got cultural capital to flaunt and crazy debts to pay off.
However, aside from the tuition that I will probably pay up until my nursing home years, my time at school further cemented my love of film and going to the movies. Aside from just watching them, I enjoy reading about them, discussing them and, when I find an idea I like enough, I love to make them. The industry is changing in fascinating ways. Films are becoming infused with elements of the Internet and video games. Storylines are no longer contained by one medium. Transmedia storytelling is the future and something I spend many days and night thinking about. It is a love that I want to share with you.
To you the readers: bear with me and my sad attempts at film theory and criticism. Laugh at the way in which I try to cite and incorporate film scholars into the discussions of my favorite films. Grant me your patience as I try to convey the millions of ideas and thoughts that rush through my head about almost every movie I see. Be kind in your criticism when I display my own work. Above all, please remember one thing: I am just one person and this is just one opinion.
People are often seeped into taking this thing too seriously and decide that their film tastes are superior to those around them. Like it or not, Michael Bay makes money. While intellectuals may not like to admit it, there are more to films than their formal, cultural or historical contexts. Movies are about the way they make us feel. Some of my best memories have little to do with the formal qualities of the movies, but more about who I saw them with, how old I was, the way the popcorn tasted, the way it made me look at a different part of my life or myself or just the way they made me feel.
I will do my best to hold back the pretensions that come with discussing films and restrain the arrogance. I just want to share the way in which I see our country’s largest cultural export. Remember too, that these are your movies too. I want to know what you think and how you feel.
Together we can convey what our generation believes is the past, present, and future of American cinema. Films belong to us as much as they do to their filmmakers, and using the tools of the Internet, it is time we make sure that those in Hollywood never forget that.