Monday Movie Moments: Children of Men

Welcome to a weekly feature here at Movies With Abe. There are great movies, and then there are great scenes. Ideally, the two come as a package deal, but sometimes there’s just a scene that’s memorable all by itself. Each week, I’ll be taking a look at a formative movie moment that may be notable for its style, content, technique, or something else altogether. Major spoilers will be referenced in this edition of the series, so please stop reading if you’ve somehow avoided seeing the movie in question.

I’ve seen this inexplicably underrated 2006 dystopian thriller three times and was equally astounded by it each time. Its bleak vision of a future in which no one is able to get pregnant and one former activist risks his life to save a miraculously pregnant woman is astounding, and its strengths are most evident in these two clips from very different points in the film. The first truly kicks off the action and sends things spiraling, while the latter brings it all to a halt. After a formidable, ground-shaking opening with a coffee shop explosion, things really get into gear with the sudden appearance of a fiery roadblock just moments after Clive Owen’s Theo and his onetime love, Julianne Moore’s Julian share a laugh over a party trick. The speed at which the scene takes place is dizzying, and a sniper on a motorcycle fires directly at Julian before Theo opens his door to send him flying off his bike. The subsequent murder of the police officers by Chiwetel Ejiofor’s Luke confirms the horrible downturn events and foreshadows the even more miserable outlook for the rest of the film. That is contrasted sharply by the scene below, which comes towards the end of the film, where Clare-Hope Ashley’s Kee has just given birth, and the sound and sight of the crying baby stops everything in its tracks, prompting soldiers to cease fire and everyone to look on in awe. No sooner than Theo, Kee, and the new baby have passed the soldiers outside the building does the fighting start right back up again. This amazing, heart-wrenching film succeeds on so many levels, and these two scenes bookend a terrifying and captivating human story.

Monday Movie Moments: Catch Me If You Can

Welcome to a weekly feature here at Movies With Abe. There are great movies, and then there are great scenes. Ideally, the two come as a package deal, but sometimes there’s just a scene that’s memorable all by itself. Each week, I’ll be taking a look at a formative movie moment that may be notable for its style, content, technique, or something else altogether. Minor spoilers will be referenced in this edition of the series, so please stop reading if you’ve somehow avoided seeing the movie in question.

There isn’t another film that quite achieves the tone of Steven Spielberg’s “Catch Me If You Can,” the chronicle of Frank Abagnale, the real-life con man who posed as many different things throughout his prolific and illustrious career. I thought first of the early scene in which Frank, too dressed up for his first day at a new school, decides to pose as the substitute teacher and humiliate the bully who mocked his outfit. Paired with the second clip, it’s a perfect introduction to the gradual improvement and finessing of Frank’s technique, as he seeks out the victim for his latest plot. Fortunately, it’s Elizabeth Banks’ bank teller Lucy, who gushes with nervous laughter as Frank tells her that he wants to deposit a check and, with the ultimate line, take her out for a steak dinner. His grace and charm enables him to get a firsthand lesson on how checks are made, giving him most of what he needs to know to start forging them. This is one of the best Leonardo DiCaprio performances I’ve ever seen, certainly better than most of the ones that have netted him Oscar nominations, and the film is just so colorful, endearing, and well-scored. It’s a highly underrated and terrific cat-and-mouse film.

Monday Movie Moments: The Usual Suspects

Welcome to a weekly feature here at Movies With Abe. There are great movies, and then there are great scenes. Ideally, the two come as a package deal, but sometimes there’s just a scene that’s memorable all by itself. Each week, I’ll be taking a look at a formative movie moment that may be notable for its style, content, technique, or something else altogether. Minor spoilers will be referenced in this edition of the series, so please stop reading if you’ve somehow avoided seeing the movie in question.

This 1995 Oscar winner for Best Original Screenplay and for Best Supporting Actor Kevin Spacey is an absolutely fantastic thriller, and it contains many iconic scenes. The most well-known and referenced of them all comes early in the film when its five main characters are thrown together into the same lineup and cause a major headache for the police. The image of the characters standing together in the lineup adorns the film’s poster and DVD cover, and this scene serves as an extremely effective introduction to their very diverse personalities. The casting is stellar, and this extended scene subtly identifies each of the characters. Stephen Baldwin’s McManus is a hothead who specializes in reckless behavior, Benicio Del Toro’s Fenster is simply incomprehensible, Kevin Pollak’s Hockney is a smooth operator who likes to mess with his enemies, Gabriel Byrne’s Dean Keaton is a businessman prove to anger at being prosecuted, and Kevin Spacey’s Verbal Kint is something else altogether. The different ways in which they speak the signature line in the lineup are extraordinarily telling, and the subsequent interview excerpts, which last less than a minute, define this as a captivating character study as well as a ridiculously compelling thriller. A must-see for anyone who hasn’t yet had the opportunity.

Monday Movie Moments: A Beautiful Mind

Welcome to a weekly feature here at Movies With Abe. There are great movies, and then there are great scenes. Ideally, the two come as a package deal, but sometimes there’s just a scene that’s memorable all by itself. Each week, I’ll be taking a look at a formative movie moment that may be notable for its style, content, technique, or something else altogether. Minor spoilers will be referenced in this edition of the series, so please stop reading if you’ve somehow avoided seeing the movie in question.

The very deserving 2001 Best Picture from director Ron Howard contains many magnificent scenes, but this is one of the crucial early moments that sets the rest of the film’s events in motion. Mainly, it’s the beginning of the exploration of John Nash’s psyche, as his mind breaks apart numeric sequences to find patterns that may or may not be there, tuning out the rest of the world and the exhausted military men behind him waiting for him to come up with something. Russell Crowe should absolutely have won the Oscar for his nuanced, insightful performance as Nash, the antisocial but brilliant mathematician whose mind tends to get the best of him, carrying him away on impossible adventures with codes and secrets aplenty. This scenes frames his journey not as a thriller but rather as an epic drama with Nash at its center, going from anonymous student to anonymous codebreaker, constantly fascinated by the excitement that comes with his daily work and the intelligence that makes it possible. The film’s later scenes, such as Alicia’s discovery of John’s work and the tremendously moving giving of the pens in the cafeteria, all trace back to John’s first foray into the spy world in this truly excellent film.

Monday Movie Moments: Almost Famous

Welcome to a weekly feature here at Movies With Abe. There are great movies, and then there are great scenes. Ideally, the two come as a package deal, but sometimes there’s just a scene that’s memorable all by itself. Each week, I’ll be taking a look at a formative movie moment that may be notable for its style, content, technique, or something else altogether. Minor spoilers will be referenced in this edition of the series, so please stop reading if you’ve somehow avoided seeing the movie in question.

This 2000 Oscar winner for Best Original Screenplay is full of magnificent moments, particularly the introduction of its characters, such as Zooey Deschanel’s Anita, Frances McDormand’s Elaine, and especially Kate Hudson’s immortal Penny Lane. This musical bus scene, however, is probably the most memorable, since it takes its primary characters away from an out-of-control situation on the road, where tensions have to come down considerably and everyone gets a chance to relax. In addition to its superb usage of Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer” as an anthem and rallying call for the group, it also shows a cast at ease and extremely comfortable with each other, each member slowly coming alive and accepting their circumstances. Penny’s declaration of “You are home” to a young and naïve William Miller, who is gradually discovering that he’ll eventually need to return to reality, grounds the scene in its utopian reality, where music is everything and there’s no need to pay heed to the gravities of real life. Seen but barely heard in the scene as well are Noah Taylor, Jason Lee, Anna Paquin, Billy Crudup, and others – all essential parts of this wonderful, heartwarming movie.

Monday Movie Moments: Big Fish

Welcome to a weekly feature here at Movies With Abe. There are great movies, and then there are great scenes. Ideally, the two come as a package deal, but sometimes there’s just a scene that’s memorable all by itself. Each week, I’ll be taking a look at a formative movie moment that may be notable for its style, content, technique, or something else altogether. MAJOR SPOILERS will be referenced in this edition of the series, so please stop reading if you’ve somehow avoided seeing the movie in question.

There are some movie endings that are just too memorable not to discuss so publicly. This one doesn’t represent as much of a spoiler since the enjoyment of this movie has little to do with the particulars of the plot. This final scene is highlighted most by Albert Finney’s exuberant declaration of “Let’s get of here” which leads to his fleeing the hospital with his son and heading to the water. Like a good musical, all of the characters return at the end of the film, perfectly in their primes, waving as if they’ve just given the performance of their lives and the star of the show is taking a bow. No one is crying because they’re all so happy to have been touched by Edward, which is just the spirit of this wonderful happy and lovely film. Seeing the real funeral take place after with the real people showing up, recognized slightly by Billy Crudup and Marion Cotillard, and sharing stories of Edward's life, is fabulous. Finney, who netted BAFTA and Golden Globe nominations for his performance but couldn’t garner an Oscar, is absolutely spectacular, wearing so much emotion in his face and in his smile. Ewan McGregor is a superb lead for the film, and he and Finney complement each other excellently. The notion of Edward becoming the film’s title is marvelous, and it’s just the right ending for this endearing film that can best be described as larger than life.

Monday Movie Moments: Memento

Welcome to a weekly feature here at Movies With Abe. There are great movies, and then there are great scenes. Ideally, the two come as a package deal, but sometimes there’s just a scene that’s memorable all by itself. Each week, I’ll be taking a look at a formative movie moment that may be notable for its style, content, technique, or something else altogether. Minor spoilers will be referenced in this edition of the series, so please stop reading if you’ve somehow avoided seeing the movie in question.

Rarely does the first scene of a film prove such a tone-setting example of the film’s innovative and bleak nature. Watching the opening titles of “Memento” (also profiled in a Monday feature from two years ago) without knowing what’s going on leads to a gradual realization that the events being slowly depicted on screen are happening in reverse. The score is extremely helpful in establishing the mood, and zooming in on one photo as it goes from fully developed to grainier is entirely captivating. Watching the gun fly back up into the hands of Guy Pearce, wearing a stoic and dazed look on his face, seems so mechanical that it’s hard to figure out just what to make of it. Right before it cuts to the black-and-white narration by Pearce’s Lenny is the most intense part, when we hear a frantic shout from Joe Pantoliano’s Teddy the second before the shot kills him. Seeing the picture slowing fade away and Teddy’s fate revealed before he speaks is even more haunting, and it creates the perfect feel for this incredibly complex, interesting, and enthralling thriller, just a taste of the complex assembly of scenes and ideas that is to come.

Monday Movie Moments: Kill Bill Vol. 1

Welcome to a weekly feature here at Movies With Abe. There are great movies, and then there are great scenes. Ideally, the two come as a package deal, but sometimes there’s just a scene that’s memorable all by itself. Each week, I’ll be taking a look at a formative movie moment that may be notable for its style, content, technique, or something else altogether. Minor spoilers will be referenced in this edition of the series, so please stop reading if you’ve somehow avoided seeing the movie in question.

Last week’s entry involved some bloody violence, and so do this one, which starts with Uma Thurman’s the Bride, her hospital gown and mouth covered in blood, throwing off her predatory attacker. Having woken up only moments before from a deep coma, it doesn’t take long for the Bride to figure out just what was going on and to regain some basic movement, though standing up turns out to be more difficult than she had imagined. As a result, we’re treated to one of the most fabulously choreographed scenes from either of the “Kill Bill” films, which is saying something. Michael Bowen’s Buck has no idea what he’s in for when he casually opens the door to check on his customer, and this is one of the best instances of director Quentin Tarantino reusing music from the past, which in this case is “Seven Notes in Black” by the Vince Tempera Orchestra. It works magnificently as a score for Buck’s awe and amazement as the camera pans down and gets a perfect shot of Buck’s cross as the Bride is revealed to be lying on the ground behind him with a knife. This episode also showcases Thurman’s acting abilities, as she mocks Buck’s signature line right before she kills him by slamming his head in a door and then takes his car. This is a fantastic film, and this is one of its subtler, most effective scenes.

Monday Movie Moments: The Departed

Welcome to a weekly feature here at Movies With Abe. There are great movies, and then there are great scenes. Ideally, the two come as a package deal, but sometimes there’s just a scene that’s memorable all by itself. Each week, I’ll be taking a look at a formative movie moment that may be notable for its style, content, technique, or something else altogether. MAJOR SPOILERS will be referenced in this edition of the series, so please stop reading if you’ve somehow avoided seeing the movie in question.

After featuring the 2005 Best Picture winner last week, let’s jump ahead to 2006, when Martin Scorsese finally got his Oscar for the brilliant gangster movie “The Departed.” Based on a 2002 film called “Infernal Affairs” from Hong Kong, screenwriter William Monahan took a terrific story of parallel moles and turned it into an authentic American film with a style of its own. Leonardo DiCaprio and Matt Damon were perfectly cast as a cop going undercover in the mob and a mobster serving as a cop, respectively. This scene, which comes near the end of the film, expands on the corresponding scene in the Hong Kong original considerably, in a furiously fast and astounding flurry of bullets. Watching DiCaprio’s Billy drop with a bullet straight to the head the moment the elevator is the first utter shock, and it doesn’t stop after that, as Damon’s Colin takes a moment to process just what’s happening and hasn’t even fully comprehended it when James Badge Dale’s Barrigan pops Anthony Anderson’s Brown in the head. At that point, Colin understands and decides that three dead men can’t contradict his story, giving Barrigan a taste of his own medicine. The only thing that improves upon the scene is the film’s ending in which Colin contends with the one person who actually knows what happened. There’s simply nothing like it, and this is a superb illustration of why this really is Scorsese’s shining career achievement.

Monday Movie Moments: Crash

Welcome to a weekly feature here at Movies With Abe. There are great movies, and then there are great scenes. Ideally, the two come as a package deal, but sometimes there’s just a scene that’s memorable all by itself. Each week, I’ll be taking a look at a formative movie moment that may be notable for its style, content, technique, or something else altogether. Minor spoilers will be alluded to in each edition of the series, so please stop reading if you’ve somehow avoided seeing the movie in question.

This 2005 Best Picture winner is probably best remembered as the film that most believe should never have defeated frontrunner “Brokeback Mountain.” While Ang Lee’s portrait of forbidden love was heartfelt and beautifully-filmed, Paul Haggis’ ensemble drama doesn’t get nearly enough credit. This is one of those films where the large popcorn I enthusiastically purchased beforehand went almost entirely untouched, because devastating revelation after devastating revelation kept me from reaching into the bag. The marvelous complexity of interesting lives and moments is well-illustrated in this scene, in which Persian immigrant Farhad tracks down Daniel (Michael Pena), the locksmith who was working on fixing his store door a day earlier and pulls on a gun on him, demanding money after a break-in at his store as a result of his broken door cost him everything. As Daniel’s young daughter witnesses this from inside her home, she runs out to her father, bringing him the invisible cloak he told her about that keeps him safe from harm. There’s a moment of instant devastating grief as a shot rings out when she runs into his arms, immortalized by the image of Daniel crying out on one of the film’s posters. Because everything in the film is connected, she’s fine since Farhad’s daughter purchased blanks because she was against the idea of buying a gun. Therefore, the cloak worked, protecting Daniel, his daughter, and Farhad from an irreversible act. The film is full of such scenes, which to those unimpressed may seem overdone, but it’s hard to argue with their emotional impact.

Monday Movie Moments: Forrest Gump

Welcome to a new weekly feature here at Movies With Abe. There are great movies, and then there are great scenes. Ideally, the two come as a package deal, but sometimes there’s just a scene that’s memorable all by itself. Each week, I’ll be taking a look at a formative movie moment that may be notable for its style, content, technique, or something else altogether. Minor spoilers will be alluded to in each edition of the series, so please stop reading if you’ve somehow avoided seeing the movie in question.

The 1994 Best Picture winner, which also scored the second consecutive Best Actor Oscar for star Tom Hanks, has many spectacular scenes that make it unforgettable, but there’s one early on that serves as a catalyst for much of Forrest’s life. As a young boy, Forrest finds himself the subject of much mockery, and even physical violence from bullies, and, at the suggestion of his kindly crush Jenny, he takes off running. His determination and strict adherence to the instructions given to him allows the braces on his legs to break off as he outpaces his pursuers and leaves them in the dust. While this scene might be thought of as corny or overdone to some, it’s a positive, if fantastical, representation of perseverance. It also leads to significant and humorous events later in the film, such as Forrest’s career as a football player where no one from the opposing team can catch him, or even stop him from running off the field, and when he just decides to run across America and grows a beard in the process. This is a wonderful, extremely endearing film, and this scene is what kicks off that sweet sentimentality.

Monday Movie Moments: A Few Good Men

Welcome to a new weekly feature here at Movies With Abe. There are great movies, and then there are great scenes. Ideally, the two come as a package deal, but sometimes there’s just a scene that’s memorable all by itself. Each week, I’ll be taking a look at a formative movie moment that may be notable for its style, content, technique, or something else altogether. Minor spoilers will be alluded to in each edition of the series, so please stop reading if you’ve somehow avoided seeing the movie in question.

This probably ranks as one of the most referenced movie scenes of all time, from Rob Reiner’s 1992 Best Picture nominee “A Few Good Men.” Jack Nicholson earned an obvious Oscar nomination for his portrayal as stern military man Colonel Nathan R. Jessup, who staunchly defends his right to do what he pleases in service of protecting his country. That includes talking to down to the excitable young lawyer portrayed by Tom Cruise, then thirty years old. The implications of this scene, which comes near the end of the film, are enormous for the film’s plot, but it’s also a sterling showcase of characters and dialogue. It’s no surprise that the script was in fact penned by one Aaron Sorkin, who inexplicably missed out on an Oscar nomination for adapting his own play. While this film is a quality military legal drama, this scene is what defines it.

Monday Movie Moments: Back to the Future

Welcome to a new weekly feature here at Movies With Abe. There are great movies, and then there are great scenes. Ideally, the two come as a package deal, but sometimes there’s just a scene that’s memorable all by itself. Each week, I’ll be taking a look at a formative movie moment that may be notable for its style, content, technique, or something else altogether. Minor spoilers will be alluded to in each edition of the series, so please stop reading if you’ve somehow avoided seeing the movie in question.

This amazing science fiction classic is an incredible film whose campiness only makes it hold up better on the umpteenth viewing. Its dedication to relatively coherent theoretical science related to the idea of time travel is among its best assets, and therefore its most exciting scene is the one at the end of the first film where Marty needs to use the lightning that will strike the clock tower to propel him back to the future. The discovery that the cable is no longer connected means that Doc has to climb up onto the tower and manually connect the cable, and one of the best parts of the above clip is the way that Christopher Lloyd reacts so dramatically to everything. Alan Silvestri’s incredible score is a great assist as well, and as a result it’s a magnificent thing to see Marty go back to the future, made even more impactful by the disappearance of the DeLorean and the continued focus on 1955, as an amazed Doc dances in the street and celebrates the successful achievement of time travel. This is one of those films I could watch over and over, and this scene is one of the main reasons why.

Monday Movie Moments: The Silence of the Lambs

Welcome to a new weekly feature here at Movies With Abe. There are great movies, and then there are great scenes. Ideally, the two come as a package deal, but sometimes there’s just a scene that’s memorable all by itself. Each week, I’ll be taking a look at a formative movie moment that may be notable for its style, content, technique, or something else altogether. Minor spoilers will be alluded to in each edition of the series, so please stop reading if you’ve somehow avoided seeing the movie in question.

Warning: this is not for the faint of heart. This violent 1991 thriller took home the top five Oscars, for Best Picture, Best Director, Best Screenplay, Best Actor, and Best Actress. Jodie Foster, who turned in an incredible performance, doesn’t appear in this scene, but Anthony Hopkins does, and he’s magnificent. Though Hannibal Lecter isn’t technically the villain in this film, this scene sure indicates otherwise, as he makes a terrifying, meticulously-planned escape from his cage. His love for classical music is deeply disturbing, as he sits and enjoys it after he has brutally attacked his captors. Seeing him grab a cop’s face and just start eating it is frightening, but this scene makes excellent use of the unseen to an equally effective degree. The elevator moving on its own is one example, and all of the cops charging in to find one of their own crucified on the cage is another. There’s no comparison, however, to the final reveal that comes at the very end of the third clip. This is brilliant and horrifying stuff.

Monday Movie Moments: Jaws

Welcome to a new weekly feature here at Movies With Abe. There are great movies, and then there are great scenes. Ideally, the two come as a package deal, but sometimes there’s just a scene that’s memorable all by itself. Each week, I’ll be taking a look at a formative movie moment that may be notable for its style, content, technique, or something else altogether. Minor spoilers will be alluded to in each edition of the series, so please stop reading if you’ve somehow avoided seeing the movie in question.

This is a scene that everyone knows, even those that haven’t seen the film. Most probably remember it best from the way it’s parodied in a clever commercial for Hostess Cupcakes. Like last week, this is another Steven Spielberg-John Williams collaboration, featuring another classic Williams score, this one the edgier and more frightening beat that precedes the shark’s deadly attack on an unsuspecting woman enjoying the water and resulting in her blood terrifying all of the eager swimmers at the beach. Watching police chief Martin Brody’s face is perhaps the best part, as he anticipates an attack earlier only to have it revealed as a false alarm, and then fails to stop another person from dying before his beach is closed down. The film contains a handful of other memorable moments, like “You’re gonna need a bigger boat,” but this is hands down the most significant and recognizable.

Monday Movie Moments: E.T.

Welcome to a new weekly feature here at Movies With Abe. There are great movies, and then there are great scenes. Ideally, the two come as a package deal, but sometimes there’s just a scene that’s memorable all by itself. Each week, I’ll be taking a look at a formative movie moment that may be notable for its style, content, technique, or something else altogether. Minor spoilers will be alluded to in each edition of the series, so please stop reading if you’ve somehow avoided seeing the movie in question.

This movie moment is split into two equally memorable scenes. In Steven Spielberg’s classic E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial, little Elliott is riding his bike with E.T. when he experiences the unparalleled joy and excitement of flying in the air. The scene is helped enormously by the music of John Williams, and his passage by the moon has become an iconic image that also serves as the logo for Steven Spielberg’s production company, Amblin Entertainment. While that scene is moving, the one that really makes the movie is when all of the kids are fleeing on their bikes from the police and escape thanks to E.T.’s powers and fly off into the sky. The visual effects aren’t nearly as impressive now as they were then, but it’s still hard not to feel the thrill of flying as showcased in these two unforgettable scenes.