Dexter: Season 4 (2009)

Warning: This review spoils content on the TV show Dexter, from Season 1 through most of 4. Please stop reading if you are not caught up on this show.

Boy, what a season of Dexter this was. After the past season's admittedly lame Miguel Prado storyline, in which Dexter tried to create a partner and was usurped by the man's utter lack of control, we get a return to the formula that I surmised was going to define the show from Season One: Dexter hunts another major serial killer. The Ice Truck Killer, a.k.a Dexter's brother Brian Moser, was Season One's big one, but otherwise there hasn't been anything of interest. Season Two shook up the formula before it was established by having Dexter himself be the hunted. And the Skinner, from Season Three, stayed in the shadows most of the time, only revealing himself at the end in a kind of lame twist on what was expected.

But that brings us to Season Four, and the decision to invent the creepiest, most effective fictional serial killer on Dexter: Trinity (John Lithgow, in an amazing performance). His cold, calculated method of three kills, one bathtub murder of a young woman, one forced suicide of a mother of two, and one bludgeoning of a father of two is a great little system. But more fascinating then the method of the serial killer is the performance by Lithgow. But more on that later.

Season Four began with Dexter dealing with his new life: father of three, married man, full time job, yet still trying to satisfy that Dark Passenger we've come to know so well (and who has been embodied by Dexter's dead foster father, Harry Morgan (James Remar)). The first two episodes alone provided some nail biters, as Dexter flubs a kill and tries to retrace his steps.

Briefly back on the scene was FBI Special Agent Frank Lundy (Keith Carradine), retired, hunting the Trinity killer because the FBI for some reason thought that the best serial killer hunter was off his rockers. Right. Regardless, it provides this season with an exciting villain, and after Lundy is offed in front of Deb (Jennifer Carpenter), and Deb herself is harmed, it leads Dexter to hunt Trinity as the suspected killer.

The show, in its first half, is fairly routine for Dexter: he repeatedly juggles family and work and killing, and slowly unveils the Trinity's identity, a.k.a. Arthur Mitchell, Christian, family man. There's a particularly annoying, but thematic subplot involving Angel Bastita (David Zayas) and LaGuerta's (Lauren Vélez) office romance. And Deb's search through her father's old CI files, while paying off in the end, takes a bit of time to get going.

But the show really takes off with the character of Arthur Mitchell. Dexter's discovery that he has a happy family (much like Dexter himself), using them as a cloak. Here, the show repeats the third season in several places, with Dexter seeking knowledge from Trinity, learning to hide himself in plain sight instead of in his very awesome apartment. This is in contrast of him seeking a friend in Miguel Prado last season. Differing, but similar storylines. That, and a repeat of Dexter killing an innocent man was leading this season towards redundant hell.

But lo and behold, in the show's Thanksgiving episode "Hungry Man," Dexter witnesses Trinity's true persona in front of his family, and the constant state of terror they live in. It was with this episode that the season really took flight, and in the last four episodes, cemented the season as, in my opinion, the second best of the show's current four seasons (Season 1 being first, 2 and 3 after).

John Lithgow is terrifying, terrific, and many other "t" adjectives. He brings life and humanity, as well as a monstrous side to the character of Arthur Mitchell, and is believable for every moment of the show, down to the end. Few actors have stood out as much as Lithgow does here, and I hope he is honored in many an awards show to come. He rightly deserves it.

But what officially cements the show is its ending. Season Two and Season Three ended on happy notes: Dexter frames someone else for his crimes, Dexter gets married. What made Season One so terrific was it ended leaving you wanting more; Dexter kills his brother, Doakes begins tailing him, and his then-girlfrend finds out her jailbird ex is telling the truth about Dexter. And this season delivers in a poignant, half-expected yet still totally surprising and devastating moment that leaves you waiting for the next season. Where Dexter will go from here is hard to say, but one knows it will be completely different from the show we've come to love these past four years. It really creates overarching themes for the whole season: it is about Dexter seeking a new life, it is about how Dexter's recklessness cost him, it is about how life is unfair. I eagerly await September 2010 with baited breath.

An Early Look at the Oscars

I usually wait to dabble in Awards hyper-mania until later, on the eve of the Oscar nominations. But, in light of recent changes to the Academy's awards set-up, the surge of top 10 lists beginning to be released, and the announcement of the Golden Globe nominees (which is more or less the official kick-off of Awards Season) next Tuesday, I thought I would share my thoughts on what I think of the current state of the Academy Awards, and who I suspect (with help from the Awards Daily people, a great site I highly recommend) could be nominated/win.

Let's start things off with the most obvious topic: Best Picture. Because the Academy has been criticized for being too "narrow," especially with their exclusion of the the second biggest movie of all time from the top prize short list (though The Dark Knight still managed to scrape in 8 nominations, more then The Reader), those snobbish, elite status members have decided to change the rules, instead allowing 10 movies to be nominated for Best Picture.

Back in the days of yore, there used to be up to 10 nominations for Best Picture, until 1944, when the rules changed and the list was shortened to five films. Now, its back to 10, and I have had reservations about this decision from the moment I heard it. While, yes, it means more movies will be nominated, it still doesn't matter because the five movies that don't have corresponding directors nominated in the Best Director category will immediately be eliminated by prognosticators, leaving the obvious short list of 5 still valid. They were still nominated, yes, but it seems more like a way for the Academy to squeeze in comedies and big budget Hollywood movies, which typically don't get nominated these days.

Of course the list of 10 opens up the high possibility that, maybe, one of the five films without a correlating director will win, and if that ever happens, then this decision would be a more exciting one. But, let's face it, very few of the 6,000 Academy members see EVERY picture nominated...and there were only five! Ten? Forget it, they are too busy. They have lives, they can't be expected to view EVERY single nominated film, while someone like me who rarely has anything to do with his January will plunder into the immense depth of the nominees. In short, it is always what is most popular, and any films sans directors will be ignored.

The 10 also takes away the enjoyable element (for me, anyways) of guessing which movies would be nominated. If there were 5, I would maybe pick Up in the Air, Precious, The Hurt Locker, Nine, and Invictus, and label An Education as the dark horse. Having only seen three of those five I still feel it is a solid list. But now the list is opened up so movies like Up, Avatar, The Lovely Bones, Inglourious Basterds, and Star Trek could could get nominations. When you have a list this dense, it really seems like the Academy is trying to be more open-minded. How about keeping it at five, and nominating Up in the Air, Up, Inglourious Basterds, The Hurt Locker, and Nine? I'd say that's a pretty varied category (also surprisingly drama-lite), but the Academy would much prefer the dark dramas...all of the them.

And at this early stage, who do I think could claim the top prize? Well, anyone who has been paying attention to Up in the Air knows that that has been garnering considerable claim, and I bet it could garner Jason Reitman his second nomination. Hell, if the movie wins, it gets his father, Ivan Reitman, an Oscar (Ivan acted as a producer), and it very well could: it's a funny, yet poignant look at a loner, and a snapshot of our current times. Is it the best of the year? I don't think so, but I've only agreed with the Academy maybe thrice this decade on what the Best Pic of the year was. I wouldn't be mad if it won, though.

As for director, probably the corresponding names to the movies mentioned above: Jason Reitman, Clint Eastwood, Lee Daniels, Kathryn Bigelow, and Rob Marshall. This could also be a year of split director/picture wins, with Eastwood winning another directing Oscar and Reitman taking Picture.

The Best Actor category at this point is pretty boring, actually. We don't have Jamie Foxx, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Daniel Day Lewis, or a Sean Penn - Mickey Rourke-level of dynamic and exciting performances. We've got Clooney for Up in the Air, Morgan Freeman for Invcitus, Matt Damon for The Informant!, Jeremy Renner for the Hurt Locker (though I am half-anticipating a snub), Daniel Day Lewis for Nine, Colin Firth for A Single Man, and maybe this Jeff Bridges movie Crazy Heart will do some business. Out of those seven potentials, though, I'd be hard pressed to pick a frontrunner at this point.

Best Actress will be the more interesting category. It will be an obvious battle between two stellar performances, Gabourey Sidibe for Precious and Carey Mulligan for her dynamic performance in An Education. Yes Meryl Streep will be nominated (when isn't she these days?), and possibly Abbie Cornish for Bright Star, Marion Cotillard for Nine, or a very dark horse would be Saoirse Ronan for The Lovely Bones. Regardless, it will be Sidibe and Mulligan battling to the end.

Supporting Actor seems to have become the new category for crazy, deranged villains. We had Javier Bardem's compressed air-tank-touting Anton Chigurh and Heath Ledger's deranged Joker. This year, two of the nominees will most likely be Christoph Waltz for his terrifying, yet exquisitely evil Nazi villain, and Stanley Tucci, as the rapist and murderer in Lovely Bones. Matt Damon for Invictus could creep in here, Woody Harrelson (for The Messenger) is starting to get the buzz, the Academy could even favor Christian McKay's turn as Orson Welles in Me and Orson Welles. This category is always the most interesting, because it is where the most diverse character actors show up.

Supporting Actress has eluded me the past couple years, so I won't say much more then guessing one or two of the six women in Nine (Nicole Kidman, Penelope Cruz, Fergie, Judi Dench, Kate Hudson, or Sophia Loren) could show up here, Mo'Nique an an obvious frontrunner for Precious, Anna Kendrick possible for Up in the Air (I was not as enamored with her performance), and a maybe Melanie Laurent for Inglourious Basterds (she was Shoshana, and was awesome). So for who will win...Mo'Nique? Honestly, I suck at this category, so I'll stay away until I am FORCED to make a decision.

There are still a dozen or so movies left for me to see before Oscar time. December is when the most exciting, though not necessarily best, movies come out. With The Lovely Bones, Nine, Avatar, Invictus, and A Single Man, among many others, to see I am ready for the mass amount of dinero I must spend at my local cineplex.

Up in the Air (2009)

No matter how much you try, no matter how hard you push, it is almost impossible to separate yourself from people in this day and age, where cellphones, the Internet, and everything keeps us in constant communication with people in the next room to people in Australia. Most people like solitude sometimes; it is nice to break away from the crowd and spend a day alone, with your own thoughts to keep you company. And some people can't stand the idea of not being with someone 24/7.

Up in the Air's protagonist, Ryan Bingham (George Clooney) seeks solitude doing the two things that most of us dread: air travel and firing people. He works for a company which loans out its employees to corporations to fire people whose boss' just don't have the balls to do it themselves. This job isolates Ryan from people because frankly, the person who fires you is the person you hate for the rest of your life. And yet, he stays detached from human emotions, from most connections that aren't personal. Everything is business.

Ryan teaches seminars that are vague but seem to focus on what you can fit in your backpack. You start with the little things and move on up until you are stuffing your house into the backpack. His point is that you can't move, you can't take all of that with you, and that these connections are just things that tie you down. Quite a pessimistic message.

Ryan's company is shaken up when a sexy young lady fresh from Cornell, Natalie (Anna Kendrick) suggests that Internet video is a far cheaper and more efficient way of firing people then flying a bunch of people all over the country. Ryan also hooks up with another woman like him (Vera Farmiga), and learns that maybe he's ready to make a connection.

This is the third movie directed by Jason Reitman, the other two being the hipster Juno (2007) and hilarious Thank You For Smoking (2005). Up in the Air is a quieter film then those two, mainly because it doesn't deal as heavily in the comedy realm as those two films did. Smokingis a satire, and while Air and Smoking share the same basic idea (men who work in positions the rest of us find unsavory), they are both completely different.

Zach Galifianakis and J.K. Simmons both show up briefly as two of the many that get fired in this movie. Galifianakis goes nuts while Simmons questions what he is supposed to tell his kids, and what he is to do next. I actually wonder how many Americans will respond to this movie: to those who have been laid off in the last year or two, Ryan will be a villain, and some may find it hard to identify with them when they are sympathizing with the people getting fired.

The movie also has a message about life in general, about how nothing is planned and we are disappointed frequently. Natalie lists to Ryan and Alex (Farmiga) her perfect man, down to the last, exact detail. Alex, 15 years Natalie's senior, responds that you are happy with what you get, and that even balding men aren't as much of a turn off. Organization isn't key to life's happiness, and you shouldn't feel like a failure if you don't achieve all your goals.

Up in the Air is both a figurative and literal title for the movie. Clooney spends much of his time flying around, but his life is also adrift, flying about with no definite place to land. The only things certain in his life is that he will fire someone, and he will continue towards the ultimate goal he has, to achieve 10,000,000 frequent flyer miles. But the title also refers to the state someone is in after they lose their job: their financial security, their job, everything that was sound is suddenly shaken loose, and they are left up in the air.

I had the pleasure of hearing Jason Reitman give a lecture and a Q&A on the movie soon after I saw it, and one of the things he talked about was how much he is like the Ryan Bingham, insofar as their thoughts on air travel. Air travel is a place where you are completely isolated from your current world and can escape into your mind, or have conversations with people you would have never had a conversation with. And while I suspect Reitman isn't feeling the pinch of the economic climate as much as other Americans, he is connected with people who are. Stay through the end credits to hear a truly sad song that either inspired the movie's title or is based on it (I doubt the former since the film is based on a 2001 novel by the same name).

The movie is smart, but I fear its appeal will not be widespread. Some may not like it because it won't be as funny as they are expecting it to be, and some won't like it because Clooney plays a man that most Americans despise. And I feel I got everything I could out of one sitting through this movie, and wonder if anything else new will be revealed upon a second viewing. Somehow I doubt it. But this is still a solid movie, in fact, it is my favorite Jason Reitman movie to date. It's not as funny as his other two films, but it smartly balances several messages and conveys them all without ever getting heavy handed or preachy.

The Road (2009)

We have always been obsessed with the idea that the world could end at any day, for any reason. But there has been a recent surge of movies all showing the apocalypse, which many feel is near at hand in the year 2012. A movie by Roland Emmerich has been made, detailing the earth's end as being a big special effects extravaganza. That is the most notable, but there are others that exist in a world where humans don't exist.

The Road is a movie about what happens after the world ends. Viggo Mortensen and Kodi Smit-McPhee play an unnamed father and son roaming a desolate America. Something wiped out humanity as we know it, and now the pair live in fear, scrounging whatever food they can find, and hiding from people who have turned into cannibals. In a way, its a clever way of illustrating real zombies, yet these people don't lumber around, they prowl.

The movie is based on a Cormac McCarthy novel, read by me, and a novel that stands above the movie. I have read McCarthy's other adapted work, No Country For Old Men and I can say the movie stands above the book. This movie is directed by John Hillcoat, who directed The Proposition (2005) a while back. He is a good director, but he is not a great one.

The movie inhabits a metallic palette, and beautifully conveys the look of this post-apocalypse America. Mt. St. Helen's is beautifully utilized, as the pair stumble across a lake full of trees (Spirit Lake) and dead, barren trees (any tree with a close radius of the mountain). Hillcoat does a good job of using actual locations, and color grading the look, rather then going into a studio and creating the backgrounds with green screen.

Charlize Theron is featured as the Man's wife, in flashbacks of vibrant color, reminding us of a life lived long ago. She leaves, leaving the man and son to fend for themselves, but whenever the man falls into a slumber he dreams of times with her. Robert Duvall and Guy Pearce make key appearances in the film, and Garret Dillahunt makes a fantastically effective villain.

And the performance by Mortensen is a strong, courageous one. Mortensen always seem to inject humanity into any character he plays, whether it be the doubtful King of Middle Earth, a small town killer, or Russian mobster. He is a fine actor. Smit-McPhee, who plays his son, is good for what is asked of him, but isn't astounding. He wears his emotions rather then embodies them, but by the end you can help but sympathize with his predicament.

However, despite all these good aspects, there is are major shortcomings: it isn't grim enough. The movie is really pretty good, but through its pacing, its editing, and its overall style, it doesn't quite get depressing enough. It moves quickly, and in a scene where the Man and Boy encounter a particularly grim cellar, there is no sense of shock, instead only of disgust. The movie doesn't resonate.

And the movie changes the novel's original end slightly, tacking on an extra bit of information that doesn't make any sense and is supposed to leave the audience with more hope then the book. Maybe this is the overall problem, the ending, but I remember feeling throughout the movie, "There needs to be more woe, more sorrow." Maybe Mortensen and his kid are too emotional and not somber enough, which is how I pictured the man's character anyway.

This movie is proof that an almost entirely faithful adaptation isn't the same thing as...adaptation. Adaptation is the process of change, but here the book is the shooting script. The source material must be respected, but does not have to be literally translated. You can never compare two different sources together, but you can contrast what makes them different. McCarthy's stark passages are very visual, but keep a third person perspective in the novel. In the movie, the man narrates, and I feel that was one of the unwise changes, though it works.

I encourage any moviegoer to seek this out over 2012 (2009) however. That movies looks like pure idiocy, spectacle, and no thought whatsoever. At least The Road has a vision, but it is the shadow of a movie that could have been great.

No Russian

My roommate just bought the newest first person shooter (FPS) Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2. The game is a standard FPS, very thrilling, very exciting, very detailed. I watched my roommate play the first three levels of the game, to see how cool it was, and upon the arriving at the third level I wondered if I would really ever want to put that game in the console again.

Now, it takes a lot to offend me. I think almost anything is OK, and love the satire level of shows like South Park, where any and all subjects are under target. I also embrace the Grand Theft Auto franchise, and have gotten much pleasure out of finding and killing the virtual policeman, and hiring virtual hookers to later kill them and take their money. I enjoy the FPS, where you have to fight an enemy combatant and take down the other team.

But in Modern Warfare 2 I witnessed a level that has offended me more then anything else in recent memory. Be warned, I will openly discuss this entire level, and if you would rather be shocked by it yourself, I say go ahead. It kind of has to be experienced first hand to really get a sense of the shock of the level.

It is preceded by a cutscene, in which whatever character you are playing as (the game jumps between different characters) is informed by his boss that he has been infiltrated into a Russian Mob group or something. Basically, this guy is The Departed level undercover, and can't do anything to blow it. The game warns you at the beginning that this level is controversial and you can skip it, but honestly it should tell what is going to happen in the level, because your curiosity is immediately peaked and it is your natural urge to find out, first hand, what this level is all about.

It opens quite calmly, with you and four of your Russian terrorist buddies entering what my roommates and I originally assumed to be bank, and drew the conclusion of bank robbery. Suddenly, the four terrorists open fire onto all the innocent civilians standing in line at what we realized was a security screening for an airport! Only then did I realize where this level was going.

You spend most of the level slowly walking through the airport, like the Columbine kids or anyone else, quickly picking off any and all innocent civilians you can find, lobbing grenades into elevators and committing mass murder against everyone. My roommate was so shocked that he refused to fire any rounds unless it was necessary, which it did become when actual armed policeman showed up.

Now, you may be asking, and I am asking myself this too, why does killing random virtual people in GTA not bother me at all, but when I get to MW2 I am sickened by what I am seeing? Well, this is what I think goes into it: GTA is violence on such a ridiculous level that you can't believe it will ever happen. When you walk up to someone, shoot them, and then run, it seems comical, and then you just spend a good deal of time running from the police and you either escape or die. Eventually, though, you do die, it is probably this reason alone that I have no qualms about random killings in GTA.

I also have no problems with killing adversaries in FPS because, well, they are armed and trying to kill me. I have to fight back, and it adds a level of exhilaration to the whole thing.

But here, there is no enjoyment to be had. It happens so unexpectedly that it shocks you, but it also conjures up memories of Virginia Tech and Columbine, and also the fact that this really could happen. It really could! So then why is this a video game level? Yes, you are warned to skip the level, and in the inevitable case I do play MW2 I will just select that option so I don't have to deal with it. But you are not told what you are missing, and curiosity will drive you mad (though you could look it up on the Internet).

I visited message boards to gauge people's reactions to this level and got the two expected sides: shocked and disgusted, and then people who just let the bullets fly on the innocents. The main argument from those who "enjoy" the level is that it isn't real, it isn't happening, so it is not bad at all. In fact, many have argued that it is no worse then what has been put on film. But just because it isn't real, doesn't mean it shouldn't effect us; I believe the game designers intended that level to effect the player on a different level then one would be expected to feel normally about a video game.

Now for the real kicker of the level: after spending five minutes killing innocents and then blowing apart guards, you are about to make your escape, when the Russians reveal they know you are undercover and shoot you in the head. The whole point of the mission was to maintain your cover, and instead it was blown all along! It's a great point of discussion, to be sure, but it just leaves you with a big feeling of "what was the point of that level?"

What was the point? To my understanding, that character hadn't been introduced at any point in the game. His role was completely irrelevant, nothing was furthered, and you watched hundreds of innocents die. Plus, if the CIA had a man undercover, and knew this attack was going to happen, would they really let it carry out just for the sake of continuing their agent's cover? Sadly I think the answer is yes, and 24 has posed weird questions like these in past seasons.

In the end, some may call me a pussy for finding the level disgusting, and I say go ahead. I like knowing I have some moral reservations about SOME things these days, which frankly is saying a lot because we live in a world where we have been desensitized to the point where airport murder levels are acceptable. Sometimes we need to pull back the reins a bit and evaluate what the point of that really is.

A Serious Man (2009)

Dark is a word you could use to describe this film; cynical is another. Comedic, maybe. They are all appropriate expressions of probably what is the Coen's most curious recent work to date. It's not fanciful like Raising Arizona (1987) or The Big Lebowski (1998), but its less cynical then No Country For Old Men (2007) and less comedic then Fargo (1996).

The movie is, at its bare bones, an adaptation of the Book of Job, and if you don't know that story, read it and find out what horrible things God will do to you to make you prove your fate. Much the same happens here, as Larry Gobnik's (Michael Stuhlbarg) life begins to spiral out of control, beginning with his wife asking for a divorce, and the incessant arrogance of everyone around him. He seeks help from three rabbis, who offer some interesting, but useless, insight.

You'll leave the movie with mixed emotions on it, I guarantee it, but this movie is meticulously and somewhat ingeniously constructed so that a single viewing, I think, may not be enough to really take in and understand all the movie has to offer and is trying to say. Most of the Coen's movies are about people who get in bad situations and things deteriorate until it ends badly for them. In Fargo, Jerry Lundegaard (a decidedly unsympathetic character) sinks deeper and deeper into a quagmire of his ransom, and in No Country For Old Men (2007), Llewelyn Moss continues playing his cat-and-mouse game with the unstoppable Anton Chigurh.

Here, however, is a man who you assume has done the best with his life and who really doesn't deserve to undergo the unraveling chaos his life is hurled into. Larry is the kind of man who doesn't stand up for himself, who lets others wash over him, as his wife begins discussing marrying an older man, Sy Ableman (Fred Melamed). Sy is the kind of man much akin to Peter Sarsgaard's character in An Education (2009); though not good looking, he is charming and reassuring, while being a complete slimebag underneath it all.

You almost forget there is a ten-minute opening sequence which tells the story of a Jewish man and his wife on a cold winter night encounter what she believes to be a Dybbuk, which, Wikipedia helpfully explains, is a soul that possesses someone's body, a soul that did not fulfill their life's purpose. Though the question is left unanswered: was this man really a Dybbuk?

I will not pretend to know what the opening is supposed to mean, but I have my theory: it lays out the rest of the movie to come, and the movie's eventual sudden ending. But maybe I'm completely off base on this one, and will delve into the many theories other's may have on IMDb or other message boards (sometimes IMDb message boards can be enlightening, sometimes they can be a sad example of what our country has come to).

The technical aspects of this movie are superb, from Roger Deakins' Cinematography to Roderick Jaynes' editing. The movie constructs a few terrific intercut sequences, paralleling either a doctor check-up and a Yiddish lesson, or two simultaneous car crashes, to the movie's powerful and sudden ending.

I really look forward to seeing this movie again. I think it is a fair step up from Joel & Ethan's previous venture, Burn After Reading (2008) which I feel is just an excuse for a slideshow of big stars to be in the same movie, doing ridiculous things. No, this movie is not gut-bustingly funny, but it lingers with you, and is a movie you will enjoy discussing and pondering. I really look forward to seeing it again.

M (1931)

I have seen Fritz Lang's M only twice now, but it is a movie I grossly underestimated, or forgot about, the first time around. This is a movie of profound power, that has the ability to challenge you with one viewpoint, and then unexpectedly turn things around on you and force you to view everything from a new, different perspective.

Petter Lorre is Hans Beckert, an elusive, anti-social young man who is a pedophile. Much beyond that, he also kills his victims, and this act causes such an uproar in the streets of the unnamed German city that police begin raiding bars to find him. Eventually he is found, but many great sequences lead up to this revelation.

First is the opening sequence, a simple yet powerfully done sequence in which children are shown playing, and then the faceless Beckert strides up and offers to buy a young girl a balloon, all the while whistling Edvard Grieg's Hall of the Mountain King. No gratuitous acts against the young girl are shown; instead, we simply get a shot of a balloon stuck in wires, and a ball rolling to a stop in the grass.

The movie descends into much of the first half as a standard police procedural, as the cops try desperately to find who this pervert is, working hours of overtime and getting 90% false leads. A unique spin comes from the German Underworld, who are getting so fed up by the constant police raids that they decide they must find Beckert themselves and end this once and for all.

M to me really speaks to German cinema in the early years of film, and solidifies my belief that they were they best filmmakers of the day. Robert Wiene helped define German Expressionism with The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920), and F.W. Murnau (Nosferatu, Sunrise) and G.W. Pabst (Pandora's Box) have turned out the greatest works from those early days. Not to mention Erich von Stroheim (Greed). And Fritz Lang essentially invented the science fiction genre with Metropolis (1927), another film I'd love to revisit because it has been so many years.

It is then sad that Adolf Hitler not only led the greatest genocide in history, but also destroyed the German filmmaking industry for Leni Riefenstahl's propaganda films. Fritz Lang had to leave his native Germany and went to America, and never directed anything notable ever again. But here is a film full of invention, tackling a subject that will always be grisly and unpleasant.

Two other remarkable scenes include: a scene where Beckert, driven mad by his desire to kill children, finds another suspect and whistles merrily the Mountain King. He is recognized by a blind man, and is marked by a young man with an M on his shirt. This shot, as Beckert turns and realizes what is on his coat, is one of the definitive shots in movie history. The realization that dawns on Lorre's wide eyes speak volumes about the danger he knows he is in.

Finally, the last scene in the film is altogether another remarkable piece of virtuoso filmmaking. Captured by the German Underworld, Beckert is put on trial in front of not just mobsters but many citizens from Germany up above. One man is assigned to Beckert's defense, and two powerful speeches are delivered: the first comes from Beckert. Writhing on the ground, he screams that the urge to commit this horrible acts is something he can't control. Here, Peter Lorre lets loose with the character and screams for mercy, because he really is insane, he really can't control the urges.

The second speech comes from his "lawyer" who states that, yes, this man has committed these awful crimes, and that he should be left to the police, not killed by the mob of angry people standing at this mock trial. A strange thing happens during these two speeches: you actually feel sorry for the pathetic little man, writhing on the floor. Not empathy, for anyone who does may need to be checked out themselves, but a small grain of sympathy is shed for this unworthy man.

In America and indeed maybe most other places in the world in the 30s, you wouldn't find a movie that explored such dark and resonant themes as these. I love classic Hollywood pictures, but something has to be said for the mundanity of most of their plots. You see where they are all going, its just how are they going to get there. But in Germany particularly, anti-heroes and antagonists were getting plenty of attention, and it is a shame that Hitler rose to power, because of the War and genocide, and also the destruction of many more potentially great films.

Footnote: The movie ends by stating that the current version of the film, which runs 110 minutes, is still an incomplete form of the movie. Like with so many other pictures in that day, scenes were edited out and that footage was lost. Still, the edition that exists in lovely Criterion transfers is well worth the watch.