A
Scroll down for movie reviews beginning with this letter.
MPAA Rating is the rating given by the Motion Picture Association of America. Please note this is a voluntary rating, so some films (many times older films or obscure foreign films) are not rated.
G - General Audiences
PG - Parental Guidance Suggested
PG13 - Parental Guidance Suggested for those under 13 years of age
R - Restricted (those under 18 not admitted without parent or guardian)
NC-17 (X) - No one under 18 admitted.
USCCB Rating is the rating given by the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops. Please note that some films are not rated simply because the Bishop’s Conference has not reviewed them.
A-I: General Patronage
A-II: Adults and Adolescents
A-III: Adults
L: Limited Adult Audience, problematic content
O: Morally Offensive
Fr. John’s Ratings
★★★★★ - Masterpiece. This film has to show aspects of cinematic excellence that are above and beyond the ordinary and even beyond the “excellent” classification. Because a true masterpiece can be determined only through its ability to endure through the passage of time, no film is even considered for this rating until at least ten years have passed from the date of its initial release.
★★★★ - Excellent
★★★ - Very Good
★★ - Fair
★ - Poor
Andrei Rublev (1966) ★★★★★
Length: 183 minutes (the preferred director’s cut). MPAA Rating: R. USCCB Rating: A-II. Has scenes of violence and torture (though not nearly as intense as film violence in our own day), and one scene with brief nudity. This is not for children. Director: Andrei Tarkovsky. Black-and-white, with color at the end. In Russian with English subtitles.
This lengthy film follows the life of famed Russian iconographer and monk Andrei Rublev as he seeks to come to terms with the sins of his past and hopes, one day, to return to painting (“writing”) icons. Part fact, part fiction, the film nevertheless places you in Medieval Russia like no other film has done before or since. Featuring violence and temptation as well as religious messages, Andrei Rublev is a virtual kaleidoscope of human experience and human life, taking the viewer through the sordid realities of worldly existence and transfiguring the soul in a spiritually uplifting conclusion. The episodic structure, which seems to meander between unrelated events, has been criticized by some. But it is actually very true to life, as most of our lives, if you think about it, follow the exact same pattern – events that may not be directly related to each other but nonetheless find a common thread in the dramatic temporal unfolding of our own existence.
This masterpiece is considered by many, including myself, as one of the greatest films ever made. The Vatican has included this film on its list of the greatest movies of all time.
Suppressed by the Soviet Union and seen only in severely truncated versions during the 1960’s and 1970’s, Andrei Rublev finds its one true home on the Criterion Collection Blu-ray. Many years ago I fell in love with the 205-minute cut which was available on DVD. But the 183-minute cut, available on Criterion Blu-ray, is a great improvement. Not only is it the late director’s preferred cut, which he supervised himself (taking out some more violent elements and trimming other unnecessary shots), but the newer transfer preserves the original aspect ratio of 2.35:1 and cleans up many scratches, flecks, dust, and dirt. The transfer is in beautiful HD. The result is well worth the $35 or so you need to pay to purchase this version.
My least favorite shot of the film needs to be mentioned – the shot of the falling horse. It is considered by many to be totally inexcusable (I am one of those people) and even Tarkovsky’s friends said it should have been eliminated. During filming, Tarkovsky used a horse destined for the slaughterhouse, placing it at the top of creaky stairs so he could film it falling and injuring itself during the Tatar invasion sequence. The shot ends with a Tatar running up and pretending to stab the fallen creature – in actuality, Tarkovsky killed the horse himself with a single bullet after filming was “cut”. The audience sees the horse fall and knows that the injury is real and therefore the sequence really “stops” the film in its tracks. The shot is the greatest weakness in the director’s entire opus. Mercifully, Tarkovsky shortened this shot in his preferred cut – an apparent compromise between his desire to keep the shot in and the insistence of so many that it should be eliminated. The shot is there but the trauma of it is greatly reduced.
Despite its very few flaws, Andrei Rublev is a truly spiritual experience and the greatest work of a great director. Though one viewing is sufficient for many people, the film requires more than one viewing to be truly appreciated.
Apu Trilogy, The (1955-1959) ★★★★★
Length: 112 minutes for Pather Panchali (1st film), 138 minutes for Aparajito (2nd film), and 107 minutes for Apur Sansar (3rd film). MPAA Rating: Not rated. USCCB Rating: Not rated. In Bengali, with English subtitles. Director: Satyajit Ray. Good for family viewing, though some scenes of family difficulties may be too intense for very young children.
It is often that a movie will fill the eyes and weary the mind. It is less often that a movie will illuminate the mind and fill the heart. But rare is that precious film which enchants the heart and inspires the soul. Such is the case with Satyajit Ray’s “Apu Trilogy,” often lauded as one of the cinema’s greatest and most masterful achievements.
Why it is considered so great is open to debate. Is it simply enthralling for Western man, beleaguered by the burdens of our commercialized society, to view the rich tapestry of life’s simplicity as found in strange and distant India of the mid-20th Century? Perhaps. But praising the film is more than an exercise in lauding an exotic locale. It is a recognition of the true artistic excellence of the man who brought Indian cinema onto the world stage – and dared to bring realism to an Indian movie industry more accustomed to musical escapist fare.
A founder of the Calcutta Film Society, Satyajit Ray was greatly influenced by the works of Wyler, Ford, and Renoir. His first film was Pather Panchali (Song of the Little Road), the first of the Apu Trilogy. Strapped for funds, he relied heavily both on the government of West Bengal and a sympathetic voice from New York’s Museum of Modern Art. The resulting footage enthralled the audience at Cannes and went down as one of the greatest “first films” ever made.
Based on the novel by Bibhutibhusan Banerjee, Pather Panchali tells the story of Apu (Subir Banerjee), a bright-eyed boy beginning his life in early-twentieth-century rural India. Living with their aging “auntie” and their hardworking parents, Apu and his sister Durga celebrate their youth and celebrate life. Food, including nourishment that is shared with others, becomes an important part of this celebration.
Apu’s world is soon turned upside down. Sickness and death assert themselves. The family continues its journey through life in the next film, Aparajito. Now Apu is a teenager. Buffeted by both adventure and tragedy, the young Apu delves into books and intellectual development. Now food for the mind becomes a celebration – it is now chalk, slate, books, and papers which look nourishing. Apu here is not a teen idol but a real teen – awkward, questioning, and struggling on his journey to adulthood.
The third and final film, Apur Sansar, takes a partially comedic look at the life of the young man Apu, who struggles to understand what it means to be a good man and a good husband. The end of the film, and thus the conclusion of the trilogy, is a spiritually transformative scene that touches the heart with the promise of a better and hope-filled tomorrow.
In this amazing trilogy, the shots are long and the reaction shots are longer. But there is no wasted footage here. Nothing is forced. Each shot, perfectly composed, pours generous amounts of truth and nature into our souls. A great deal of ambient sound, lush visuals of natural surroundings, and tender closeups of tender faces are enriching and illuminating. No director commands our attention on the natural level as much as Ray does here. Simple foods have never seemed so delicious, sicknesses have never seemed so burdensome, youthful adventures have never seemed so hope-filled, and people have never seemed so real. It is as if the rest of cinema is a game of “let’s pretend,” with Ray’s Trilogy providing the best and most accurate barometer of what is truly immersive cinema.