Top Ten List, Number Four...

Silence of the Lambs- Now, honestly. You can't tell me at some point in your life you haven't seen a friend or co-worker putting some kind of emollient on his or her skin and not said, "It rubs the lotion on its skin, or else it gets the hose again!" (And if that person has your sensibilities, they of course responded, "Put the lotion in the fuckin' baaaasket!") Jonathan Demme takes Robert Harris' tightly woven mix of detective procedural and character-driven suspense thriller to give us a movie which deservedly swept the 1991 Oscars.

So, consider the character of Clarice Starling.(Played by the very capable Jodie Foster) When we first meet her, she's unglamourously running through an FBI trainee obstacle field. She's summoned to meet the FBI head of Behavioral Science, Jack Crawford.(Scott Glenn) Note how on the way to meet Crawford, Demme sticks Starling in an elevator surrounded by several male FBI trainees, all dwarfing her. Later on, in a scene set in a rural southern funeral home, she's surrounded by the hostile presence of a crowd of rural policemen. Usually, in thrillers with a female protagonist, she's always given a husband or boyfriend to act as the stable force in her life. (and, y'know, save her bacon in the film's third act...) In Starling's case, Crawford is as likely to use her up as a military captain sending troops to take an enemy hill. While he's a mentor of sorts, Crawford is not the asset Starling uses to track down the killer of young women, Buffalo Bill.(Ted Levine,in a creepy performance) That role goes to a most unlikely candidate...

Hannibal Lecter. He's become a pop icon of malevolence right up there with Dr. Mabuse or Baron Corvo. Lecter made an appearance in Harris' earlier book, 'Red Dragon' (filmed by Michael Mann as Manhunter, and the inferior remake by Brett Ratner.) In 'Red Dragon', Lecter's 'help' caused the protagonist permanent mental, and physical damage. He aids Starling in her search, mainly to show off his considerable intellect, partially to open a door to escape, partially to engage in causing more suffering...and because this monster may be attracted to Starling. Her meetings with him are like watching a feeder bird in a crocodile's mouth.

Hannibal Lecter: I will listen now. After your father's murder, you were orphaned. You were ten years old. You went to live with cousins on a sheep and horse ranch in Montana. And...?

Clarice Starling: [tears begin forming in her eyes] And one morning, I just ran away.

Hannibal Lecter: No "just", Clarice. What set you off? You started at what time?

Clarice Starling: Early, still dark.

Hannibal Lecter: Then something woke you, didn't it? Was it a dream? What was it?

Clarice Starling: I heard a strange noise.

Hannibal Lecter: What was it?

Clarice Starling: It was... screaming. Some kind of screaming, like a child's voice.

Hannibal Lecter: What did you do?

Clarice Starling: I went downstairs, outside. I crept up into the barn. I was so scared to look inside, but I had to.

Hannibal Lecter: And what did you see, Clarice? What did you see?

Clarice Starling: Lambs. The lambs were screaming.

Hannibal Lecter: They were slaughtering the spring lambs?

Clarice Starling: And they were screaming.

Hannibal Lecter: And you ran away?

Clarice Starling: No. First I tried to free them. I... I opened the gate to their pen, but they wouldn't run. They just stood there, confused. They wouldn't run.

Hannibal Lecter: But you could and you did, didn't you?

Clarice Starling: Yes. I took one lamb, and I ran away as fast as I could.

Hannibal Lecter: Where were you going, Clarice?

Clarice Starling: I don't know. I didn't have any food, any water and it was very cold, very cold. I thought, I thought if I could save just one, but... he was so heavy. So heavy. I didn't get more than a few miles when the sheriff's car picked me up. The rancher was so angry he sent me to live at the Lutheran orphanage in Bozeman. I never saw the ranch again.

Hannibal Lecter: What became of your lamb, Clarice?

What impresses me about Starling is her sheer tenacity. It impresses Crawford enough to keep her on the 'Buffalo Bill' case and Lecter is impressed by her to aid her indirectly. (She stands her ground when another inmate at the asylum where Lecter is housed flings his 'baby-batter' at her-EWWWWW!! and Lecter changes his earlier sneering opinion of her.) In Starling's dealings with Lecter, she gains his help by sharing her deep personal traumas with him, knowing his capacity for cruelty on a whim, knowingly offering him her throat. (There's a sample of this when the bound Lecter, facing the kidnap victim's mother, monstrously taunts her anxiety...)

Demme and his cinematographer, Tak Fujimoto, keep the movie shot low-key,like under a cloudy day, de-glamorizing the sets. Check out, also, how canny Demme has most of the other characters when talking to Starling, talking AT the viewer, placing us in the centre of the tension. It's one hell of a departure from his earlier, sweet-natured polychromatic films like "Married to the Mob" and "Something Wild".

My Brush With Fame...(Sorta...)

So, Wednesday I was walking from my place to the supermarket to do some shoppin', as you do. A film crew had set up some craft and talent trailers in front of my apartment for a single day of shooting. They were doing a scene in a nearby record store meant to double as a place in Denver or something. Calgary is nothing if not outstanding in its sheer generic quality of cityscape. I mean, if you had to be placed in a Witness Protection program, I'd suggest Calgary. It's literally the last place on the planet anyone who wanted to 'whack' you would look. Don't get me wrong, I love this place. It's just that I've seen so many 'made-for-tv' type movie productions set up in downtown Calgary, I've taken it as just par for the course. Anyways, back to my story...

Passing by the trailers, I heard a girl's voice that sounded an awful lot like "Meg" from "Family Guy".

"Excuse me, you gotta light?"

"Um, sure.", I suavely said, reaching into my back pocket for my Zippo like James Bond would, if he had a back pocket. Checking the girl out. Dark, curly hair, slightly Slavic features, about five two, five three. Amazing pale grey-blue eyes. Dressed for Canadian winter. Nearby, an Andy-Dick-resembling P.A. had what I assumed was her pug-dog on a leash. I realized then I hadn't had a smoke since I got home from work, and didn't have any on me.

"Er, Here ya go, eh, you gotta smoke on you?" Real smooth and James Mason-like, Tom.

"Sure, that's a fair trade, smoke for a light. Hang on.", she perked, hopping into her trailer, then hopping out again.

"It's American, if that's alright."

"Hey, fine with me."

She proffered a smoke to me while using my Zippo to light hers. Gee, she was pretty, in a Jackie-from-That-70's-Show kinda way.

"Thanks, here's your lighter."

"You're welcome, have a good 'un." And so I continued to the store, lost in thought about the movie industry while she fussed over her pug-dog. Man, that girl was nice. And cute. I guess aspiring actresses 'nic-out' like everyone else. That girl kinda looked like Mila Kunis. Prettier, though.

Didn't think much of it 'til I got to work that evening, flipped through the paper before my shift started...

The Hell? What's THIS article?

"...and shooting in town, SOME RANDOM ACTOR GINK in "Straight-Edge" also starring MILA KUNIS?..."

Holy shit! I bummed a smoke off MILA KUNIS? MEG? Man, if I had known, Id've become Gibbering Starstruck Fanboy then and there! Can I take your picture, Miss Kunis? No one's gonna believe I met "Meg" from "Family Guy"! Why'd you do "American Psycho 2: Electric Boogaloo?" What's Macaulay Culkin got that I don't, anyways? Seth McFarland should give 'Meg' more to do in "Family Guy", dammit! Shee...

Mila Kunis smokes Parliaments. They taste terrible.

Borat: Cultural Learnings Of America For Make Benefit Glorious Nation Of Kazakhstan

(Forward: I've been selected to host a review/response to the "Borat" movie by the Deputy Minister of Cultural Affairs in Kazakhstan, a fellow by the name of Gennedy Y. Yaktusk. Hence, my interruption of my Top Ten Movies list. Enjoy...)

Hello to all North Americans, and Alaska, too! I am Gennedy Y. Yaktusk, Head Deputy Minister of Cultural Affairs based in the very fine (and cosmopolitan!) city of Alma-ata! I hope you are doing fine, and cordially invite you all to visit our splendid homeland! This unfortunate movie starring Sascha Jew Baron Cohen, has perhaps perpetuated many vile stereotypes of my proud country. I, of course, realize it is humorous satire, and were Jew Cohen's repellent television anchorman based in say, Ashkhabad or Tashkent, I would not, how you say, "be batting an eyelid". But he presents a racist, hairy stereotype of Eastern Europe as backward, ill-bred, and overly sexyful. Such is not the case, I most hurriedly assure you! The Jew Baron Cohen displays beloved Kazakhstan as anal opening of a country with dirt, straw, in-breeding, and keeping of billy-goats on straw roofs. I chuckle in condescending manner to think of Kazakhstan being portrayed in such an ill manner.

Were you, gentle viewer, to come to visit lovely Alma-ata in the spring, you would gape and slap your forehead in astonishment! Here you will feel you are in bustling major Western city, like Berlin or London or Saskatoon! Here you see paved roads and amber streetlights in fine working order! And upon our streets you will find the young peoples with their Ipods listening to "The Jets" and "The Franz Ferdinand" while "getting down" upon the sidewalk (clear of feces, I hasten to add) with their "fresh" Nike-brand trainers. We host many Western companies here, providing cheap, industrious labour to make your Xboxes and Adidas to be enjoyed by even Negros! I, myself, am proud owner of 2001 Ford Escort with Blaupunkt stereo. So, you see, Jew Baron Cohen and director Larry Charlestein's cheap shots at small but proud Kazakhstan fail like Lesotho football club into FIFA series!

Jew Baron Cohen portrays idiot newsperson to America with fat hairy mutant producer to learn "America" from "Jew York City". This is foolish on face of it. Perhaps, if Jew Cohen stop to think of it, would not Kazakhstan have good "vibe" with America owing to our plethora of Satellite T.V.? Perhaps, in fairness, would Vice-President Richard Cheney be coming to Alma-ata to witness our modern, progressive state? (an aside: there is no "Running of the Jew" festival anywhere in Kazakhstan, on account of the last Jew report was back in 1942. Foolish.) Suddenly, he is taken by image of prominent she-male, Tommy-Lee Anderson, mistakes him for a woman, falls in love, and lies to his producer to pursue unnatural relationship with Lee-Anderson transsexual in Los Angeles.

Along the way, Borat (Jew Cohen) encounters many examples of America, where he takes cheap shots at gun owners, etiquette teachers, rodeo owners, and antique store owners. Maybe America should be protesting "Borat", instead, eh? I note with disgust the scene where Jew Cohen and fat mutant hairy producer get into "Royale Battle" in their apartment, and roll about in homo-erotic display of fat, hairy, sweaty display of hairy, fatty, fatness. I still shudder at widescreen hairy man-buttocks being offered for my supposed amusement. Finally, he is arrived in Los Angeles, and tries to "kidnap" Tommy-Lee Anderson, with expected results. He does, however, find true love with American Negro prostitute, whom he marries and takes back to homeland.

This type of humor, I am to admit, is 'hit and miss'. A sequence with White Peoples dinner club seems unnecessarily cruel, since the people who are the "joke's butt" are guilty of nothing more than your famous "Southern Hospitality." (Silly Jew Cohen! In Kazakhstan, we have much knowledge of flush toilet in which to deposit feces! Also, is proper etiquette to procure Negro prostitute after dessert!) It is one thing to mock the pompous and ignorant, like racist rodeo owner and drunken fraternity-boys who bemoan end of slavery. It is quite another to humiliate people over their need to be friendly and accommodating. Ultimately, the laughs are low indeed. Almost as low, say, as someone impersonating the fractured-English style writing of an non-native English speaker in order to review a movie.

Thank you, and good day! God Bless Kazakhstan!

(Afterword: Turns out this 'Gennedy' guy is a hoax. He tried to hook me on one of those "Nigerian 409" scams, later on. As for what I thought of "Borat", Boy, was it mean, but I laughed like an idiot through most of it. My only serious quibble- It was pretty easy to tell which encounters were scripted, and which ones were real. That kinda threw me off...)

Top Ten list, Number Three...

Pulp Fiction- Yeah, yeah, yeah. You knew this'n would be on my list, wouldn't you? After all, one can't claim to be a member of Generation X without owning this movie, now can one? First off, having looked at all of Tarantino's work from 'True Romance' to his guest spot on 'Sin City', I've come to a conclusion about him. He's the filmmaker equivalent of an idiot savant. That is, one of those guys who can recite plane schedules or carve horses out of soap bars but can't tie their own shoes or boil water. Is that a 'dis'? No. First off, I couldn't carve a horse out of a bar of soap if I had my life to live over again. Also, I couldn't take the essential pop thrill one gets from the movies and condense it into a coherent whole. Which is what 'Pulp Fiction' does.

Tarantino bends genre conventions into loops and distills the thrills of trash films with the experimental camera-work of 'respected' filmmakers like Goddard, Trauffaut, and all the rest of the 'Cahiers du Cinema' crowd. (Who, I should point out, took their cues from American filmmakers like John Ford, Howard Hawks and Anthony Mann...) No, Pulp Fiction has no connection whatsoever to real life, and you wouldn't meet anything like the characters in the real world. But 'Pulp Fiction' connects with us.

Scenes like Vincent Vega(John Travolta) stabbing a needle full of adrenaline into the chest of his boss's wife, Mia Wallace(Uma Thurman) hold us breathless with tension. (When I first saw it in a crowded theater, the crowd was dead silent. Then a girl in the front softly muttered, 'Oh, you idiot',regarding Vincent's desperate attempt. The crowd went nuts at that comment, breaking the tension.) The scene where Jules Winfred (Samuel Jackson) and Vincent show up at Jules' friend Jimmy's house (Tarantino himself) to get out of the predicament of Vincent accidentally shooting another person in Jules' car. (that in itself, is such a shock, I almost leapt out of my seat) The dialogue between Jules and Jimmy (Haw! a Traffaut reference!) is straight out of Monty Python:

[Jules, Vincent and Jimmie are drinking coffee in Jimmie's kitchen]

Jules: Mmmm! Goddamn, Jimmie! This is some serious gourmet shit! Usually, me and Vince would be happy with some freeze-dried Taster's Choice, but he springs this serious GOURMET shit on us! What flavor is this?

Jimmie: Knock it off, Jules.

Jules: [pause] What?

Jimmie: I don't need you to tell me how fucking good my coffee is, okay? I'm the one who buys it. I know how good it is. When Bonnie goes shopping she buys SHIT. Me, I buy the gourmet expensive stuff because when I drink it I want to taste it. But you know what's on my mind right now? It AIN'T the coffee in my kitchen, it's the dead nigger in my garage.

Jules: Oh, Jimmie, don't even worry about that...

Jimmie: No, let me ask you a question. When you came pulling in here, did you see a sign out in front of my house that said Dead Nigger Storage?

Jules: Jimmie, you know I ain't seen no...

Jimmie: Did you see a sign out in front of my house that said Dead Nigger Storage?

Jules: [pause] No. I didn't.

Jimmie: You know WHY you didn't see that sign?

Jules: Why?

Jimmie: 'Cause it ain't there, 'cause storing dead niggers ain't my fucking business, that's why!

I should also point out the camera work by Andrzej Sekula. Notice how it nervously follows the characters around in long takes. Roger Ebert points out how it seems anxious to return to the main action when Vincent and Jules break off to discuss the implications of a good foot massage early in the film. The only real criticism I can bring to "Pulp Fiction", is how Tarantino influenced a whole sub-genre of 'Tarantino-esque' film-makers who ran the gamut from okay(The Usual Suspects) to god-awful(Boondock Saints).

Seven Samurai

Depending on my mood, either this or Dr. Strangelove is my favorite movie of all time. Having just picked up the new, expanded Criterion version,(and all it's attending extras) I'm listing 'Seven Samurai' as my favorite. (for now...)

There are no emotionally complex characters-odd for Kurosawa. There's no deep moral theme running through it. On the surface, we've all seen this type of 'Guys-on-a-mission' type movie before, right? But this is the one that created that whole sub-genre. If I were a pretentious twerp, I'd be inclined to tie this movie in to Kurosawa's Dostoevsky influence. You know, fate and redemption. Trouble is, only Mifune's 'outsider' samurai is the only one that even remotely fits the bill here. No, what we got here, theme-wise, is that Japanese proverb, "The nail that stands out get hammered down." The samurai fight for the peasants because it's what their class is supposed to do. (The lead samurai's speech about 'testing ourselves in battle' rings a little hollow.) Note how at the end, the romance between the youngest samurai and the peasant girl is abruptly cut off once the village is saved.

In classic Kurosawa form, every detail is fully realized, and every blast of wind and drop of rain is there for a reason. Notice how the wind always comes up at moments of tension. The final climactic battle is set in a thunderstorm, churning up the ground into a muddy soup. The more I watch this movie, the more little details accumulate. I particularly love the scene where Toshiro Mifune tries to convince the others that he's from an actual samurai family, bringing in a tattered family scroll to bolster his claim. The leader points out both Mufune's lie and his illiteracy by bringing up the fact that the name Mufune claims as his belongs to a 13-year old. In the back we see one of the other samurai counting out the years on the scroll on his fingers, then laughing as he gets the joke at the same time the leader informs Mufune of his error.

And his editing, my God, has never been better. The first we see of the lead Samurai, played by Takashi Shimura, he is shaving his head to disguise himself as a monk. (If you wonder at the overly startled reactions of the surrounding villagers to this, bear in mind that a samurai's topknot was his badge of status. Losing it was equal to pooing one's pants in public...) He's disguising himself to draw out a thief that's kidnapped a little boy. Throwing in some food to the thief's hideout to distract him, he rushes in, there's an offscreen struggle, and then, in slow motion, the thief staggers out, the gathered crowd reacts,(in normal speed) then the thief drops dead, a cloud of dust emerging from the corpse. This technique shows up again in the fatal duel between the master swordsman(Seiji Miyaguchi) and a hot-headed samurai. I suspect it's the first time this slowed-down camera at the time of death gag's been used in cinema, and here, it's so effective. I should also point out that this is the first action movie to give us the 'reluctant hero' plot point. There's probably a bunch of other 'firsts' for this movie, but I'll find 'em later.

In closing, if this DVD isn't in your library, you suck.

A Brief Interlude...

...Let me just quickly interrupt my top ten film list here...

Over the Hedge- Dreamworks' CG animation offerings are formulaic to the point of tedium. They seem to have one story template that they use over and over again. Here's the template: Disparate group of anthromorphic beings go to a unique environment where their unity as a group is tested. During this ordeal, there will be a montage of the creatures either A) wandering sadly through the environment while a current MOR top 40 band plays a subdued melody, or B) working together to achieve a common goal while a current MOR Top 40 band plays an upbeat melody. The group will always have a 'sassy', urban-type female, and a hyper-ADD afflicted 'Nerdy' character. Two-thirds into the movie, the lead character will monologue about how his doubt or his hubris has let the other members of the group down. His confidence will be restored by another monologue by his love interest or best friend. The final message is always, "Friends and Family are the most important thing, ever." At least half the voices of the main characters will be by A-level movie stars, which simultaneously proves that Dreamworks hasn't got much confidence in these movies in the first place, and that Bruce Willis, Woody Allen, Cameron Diaz and Will Smith's voice-over work tend to flatten out their performances.

Over the Hedge continues that bland tradition. A group of disparate woodland creatures awake from hibernation to find their sylvan home is now smack dab in the middle of suburbia. A cocky raccoon, voiced by Bruce Willis, sells them on the easy pickin's in suburban garbage cans, thus assuaging their fears over a steady food supply. Turns out the raccoon is using the other creatures to gather food for him so he can pay back a mean bear (voiced by Nick Nolte) whose food supply the raccoon demolished. When the animals are captured by a psychotic exterminator and a monomanical home owner, the raccoon has a change of heart and rescues them, thus learning that "Friends and Family are yadda yadda."

I'm setting all this up because Over the Hedge has one gag which has to be the funniest thing that I've seen this year in a movie. The aforementioned ADD-Nerd character in this case is a squirrel named Hammy voiced by Steve Catrell in a standout performance. (Spoiler alert) During the movie, a minor running gag is that given his twitchy, nervous personality, caffeine-laden drinks would be the last thing Hammy should partake in from the bounty of food the animals are stealing. When the raccoon rescues the other animals from their capture by the exterminator, they are stuck in the hedge between their forest home and the aforementioned homeowners' lawn. On one side is the now-angered bear, and on the other side stands the exterminator and the homeowner, both parties intent on destroying the woodland creatures. The raccoon and the leader of the animals, a turtle voiced by Gerry Shandling, bemoan their fate and wish for more time to resolve their dilemma. (At that point, fireflies light up over their heads.) They give Hammy a full dose of hyper-caffeinated soda, and he saves the day.

What sends this gag over the moon is it's reversal of expectations. We expect to see a hyper-cut montage of the squirrel frantically running about, subduing the bear, the exterminator, and the homeowner in the space of a few seconds. What the movie gives us is a slow, leisurely display of Hammy's altered perceptions in his hyper-caffeinated state. Time stops while he casually trots to the semi-lethal animal trap on the owners' lawn, sets it off, non-chalantly sets up a cage trap next to the bad guys, and makes a detour to grab a cookie on top of the homeowners' house. ("Hm-mm...I gots a cookie") While Hammy is doing all this, the lasers on the lawn move at a snail's pace. (End spoilers)

I was laughing so hard, I almost passed out. (My diaphram still hurts.) The comic saint Michael O'Donoghue pointed out that great comedy jumps a step, and that's exactly what happens here. It's unfortunate the rest of the movie doesn't match up to that scene, but having my lowered expectations surpassed is part of why I was laughing so heavily.

My Favorite Movies of All Time- Part One

Okay, let's get this done...

Dr. Strangelove- It's been said that there's two types of satire: satire from the outside and satire from the inside. Satire from the outside condemns the priest for teaching a false religion. Satire from the inside condemns the priest for not following the teachings of his religion. Or, to be more succinct, Dr. Strangelove is a movie about how the guardians of democracy are infantile madmen; while the movie, "How to Succeed in Business without Really Trying"(released at about the same time) is about how them ad execs really like their coffee breaks.

I'm not one to critique a movie like an olympic judge, but to my mind, Dr. StrangeLove is about the most successful example of black comedy in film that I've ever seen. Other examples of black comedy like Fight Club or Wag the Dog tend to lose their nerve most of the way through the picture. My understanding is that Kubrick was preparing to direct a straight adaptation of the novel, "Fail-Safe". In the course of his usual through research, he found that U.S. foreign policy involving nuclear deterrence was more absurd than an Alfred Jarry play. "Mutually Assured Destruction", anyone? So he then got the help of master comic writer Terry Southern to work with him on the screenplay.

The tone of the movie is of a mouth contorted into a rictus grin, small beads of sweat appearing on the upper lip. Every part is played straight, with no broad comic strokes whatsoever. (Well, George C. Scott plays his role of the overenthusiatic general pretty broad, but, C'mon. It's George C. Scott!) Peter Sellers, the master of sinking into a role, handles three different parts with aplomb. He's ineffectual President of the United States, Merkin Muffey,(note the effeminate name) Group RAF Captain Lionel Mandrake, the voice of reason to the insane General Jack D. Ripper, and what is to me possibly the most absurd character ever to appear in film, the Dr. Strangelove of the title. Reportedly, he was also pegged to play the B-52 group commander, Major Kong.

Notice the character of General Jack D. Ripper(Sterling Hayden), the insane head of the air force base that orders his bombers to attack Russia. He's not your stock madman. He doesn't rant and rave at the top of his voice. His tone throught the whole movie is one of calm, ordered, well-thought out logic. His rationale for beginning the attack makes sense, if you're a right-wing paranoid. It's only when he reveals his abhorrence for floride treatments in water (actually, there's a reasonable rationale for being opposed to floridation, but I'm not going to go into it here...) that we (and Captain Mandrake) realize that Ripper's gone off the deep end a long time ago:

General Jack D. Ripper: Mandrake, do you realize that in addition to fluoridating water, why, there are studies underway to fluoridate salt, flour, fruit juices, soup, sugar, milk... ice cream. Ice cream, Mandrake, children's ice cream.

Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Lord, Jack.

General Jack D. Ripper: You know when fluoridation first began?

Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: I... no, no. I don't, Jack.

General Jack D. Ripper: Nineteen hundred and forty-six. Nineteen forty-six, Mandrake. How does that coincide with your post-war Commie conspiracy, huh? It's incredibly obvious, isn't it? A foreign substance is introduced into our precious bodily fluids without the knowledge of the individual. Certainly without any choice. That's the way your hard-core Commie works.

Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Uh, Jack, Jack, listen, tell me, tell me, Jack. When did you first... become... well, develop this theory?

General Jack D. Ripper: Well, I, uh... I... I... first became aware of it, Mandrake, during the physical act of love.

Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Hmm.

General Jack D. Ripper: Yes, a uh, a profound sense of fatigue... a feeling of emptiness followed. Luckily I... I was able to interpret these feelings correctly. Loss of essence.

Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: Hmm.

General Jack D. Ripper: I can assure you it has not recurred, Mandrake. Women uh... women sense my power and they seek the life essence. I, uh... I do not avoid women, Mandrake.

Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake: No.

General Jack D. Ripper: But I... I do deny them my essence.

And there's Peter Sellers' President Merkin Muffey (such a great name!) His monologue with the drunken Russian Premier is like a Bob Newhart sketch:

President Merkin Muffley: [to Kissoff] Hello?... Uh... Hello D- uh hello Dmitri? Listen uh uh I can't hear too well. Do you suppose you could turn the music down just a little?... Oh-ho, that's much better... yeah... huh... yes... Fine, I can hear you now, Dmitri... Clear and plain and coming through fine... I'm coming through fine, too, eh?... Good, then... well, then, as you say, we're both coming through fine... Good... Well, it's good that you're fine and... and I'm fine... I agree with you, it's great to be fine... a-ha-ha-ha-ha... Now then, Dmitri, you know how we've always talked about the possibility of something going wrong with the Bomb... The *Bomb*, Dmitri... The *hydrogen* bomb!... Well now, what happened is... ahm... one of our base commanders, he had a sort of... well, he went a little funny in the head... you know... just a little... funny. And, ah... he went and did a silly thing... Well, I'll tell you what he did. He ordered his planes... to attack your country... Ah... Well, let me finish, Dmitri... Let me finish, Dmitri... Well listen, how do you think I feel about it?... Can you *imagine* how I feel about it, Dmitri?... Why do you think I'm calling you? Just to say hello?... *Of course* I like to speak to you!... *Of course* I like to say hello!... Not now, but anytime, Dmitri. I'm just calling up to tell you something terrible has happened... It's a *friendly* call. Of course it's a friendly call... Listen, if it wasn't friendly... you probably wouldn't have even got it... They will *not* reach their targets for at least another hour... I am... I am positive, Dmitri... Listen, I've been all over this with your ambassador. It is not a trick... Well, I'll tell you. We'd like to give your air staff a complete run-down on the targets, the flight plans, and the defensive systems of the planes... Yes! I mean i-i-i-if we're unable to recall the planes, then... I'd say that, ah... well, ah... we're just gonna have to help you destroy them, Dmitri... I know they're our boys... All right, well listen now. Who should we call?... *Who* should we call, Dmitri? The... wha-whe, the People... you, sorry, you faded away there... The People's Central Air Defense Headquarters... Where is that, Dmitri?... In Omsk... Right... Yes... Oh, you'll call them first, will you?... Uh-huh... Listen, do you happen to have the phone number on you, Dmitri?... Whe-ah, what? I see, just ask for Omsk information... Ah-ah-eh-uhm-hm... I'm sorry, too, Dmitri... I'm very sorry... *All right*, you're sorrier than I am, but I am as sorry as well... I am as sorry as you are, Dmitri! Don't say that you're more sorry than I am, because I'm capable of being just as sorry as you are... So we're both sorry, all right?... All right...

The film itself is Kubrick at the height of his powers. His bone-dry wit, his sly little gags, (note how General Turgidson's 'secretary' is the Playboy Centerfold that one of the B-52 crew ogles on duty. 'Peace is our Profession' on a sign in the besiged air force base, looking over several dead soldiers, "Gentlemen! You can't fight in here, THIS is the WAR ROOM"...) his deadpan camera shots. It's unfortunate how Kubrick's later work ossified these skills of his into empty technique, but for this movie and the earlier 'Lolita', they served the subject matter well.