The strange and the dark are starting to invade movies in 1971. Some all time anti-heroes are born. There’s weird romances, the worst ode to candy for kids of all time, and football players with cancer.
Before Charles Bronson reimagined it in Death Wish, Clint Eastwood’s Harry Callahan is the conservative dream: a one man killing machine using his own code to deliver justice, in spite of those libtards in San Francisco. You have to ask yourself one question. Does that mean this movie’s bad? Nope, in fact, the manhunt is pretty awesome.
Robert Altman announced his presence with this take on Westerns. Altman demythologizes the genre, pointing his cynical, cruel finger at how the simplicity of the time will always be ruined by the power of big money.
Akira Kurosawa’s first film in color. While not perfect (sadly, he attempted suicide after this movie was poorly recieved) it still tells an interesting tale of how the “uncivilized” poor only act that way to survive, while the rich are truly without dignity. It also proves Kurosawa can make engrossing films without Toshiro Mifune or Takashi Shimura, his muses.
Normal Jewison’s adaptation of the musical is a delight of spectacle and substance. Topol is excellent, reprising his role as a milkman and father to 5 daughters, fighting poverty and oppression as he raises his family. The movie also becomes a story of religion, understanding, and bravery in the face of anti-Semitism.
Harry Callahan isn’t the only one going on crusading vigilante missions. Richard Roundtree exudes the confidence you’d want out of the cool ass mother, who’d risk anything for his brother, can you dig it? His movie is as cool as he is, kicking ass, sleeping with beautiful women, and being the smartest cat in the room, out detectiving everyone, and doing it with eons of style. SHAFT!!!
Props to Hal Ashby and Colin Higgins for crafting the immensely satisfying and hilariously weird love story of the year. Bud Cort’s 19ish Harold gets his kicks faking suicide attempts for attention. While at a funeral service for someone he doesn’t know, he meets Maude, an 80 year old woman with a zest for living. What happens next is a strange bond between a pair of wayward souls that we don’t understand but find shockingly appealing.
William Friedkin’s thriller is as entertaining as any other thriller Hollywood churns out, with one of the better onscreen car chases put to film. What sets it apart is being conflicted on who to root for. Roy Scheider seems like a good cop, but Gene Hackman’s Popeye Jones is less a cop and more of a controlled psychopath, obsessed with getting his man, and the boundary pushing 70s also makes the ending more interesting than just old Hollywood’s let the good guy win mentality.
Stanley Kubrick took Anthony Burgess’s novel and turned it into a terrifying look at a bleak, bleak future. Malcolm McDowell is creepy and charming as ever, leading a group of young kids in a “little bit of ultraviolence” and sexual misconduct. Kubrick’s got even more sinister behavior up his sleeve, as the methods to “rehabilitate” McDowell’s Alex might be even more evil than the acts he committed himself.
The 70s couldn’t just make a lovely movie about a kid’s dreams coming true. It had to make them creepy and scary as hell too. Yes, we know about Charlie, the boy who desires a golden ticket to win a prize from Willy Wonka (Gene Wilder), the famed candy maker. The minute Wilder limps onscreen, the movie comes alive with fantastic imagery, wry humor, and even a little horror here and there, while never losing Roald Dahl’s spirit.
Peter Bogdanovich directs this black and white tale of Anarene Texas, your run of the mill small town in the United States. High school seniors (Cybill Shepherd, Timothy Bottoms, and Jeff Bridges) see their lives diverge as adulthood and the push toward the future sees time go past small town USA. This movie is about a lot of things: small towns, the past vs the future, rural decay, love vs. flings, stasis vs. adventure. Bogdanovich explores all of them, making the movie richer and richer with each passing minute.
