Showing posts with label the englishman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the englishman. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 5, 2020

The best and worst annoyingly long movie titles

You’d think that there would not be any good “annoyingly long movie titles.” The very name discounts the possibility of them being good.

But I think it’s possible for something to be annoyingly long and still good, or at least, still funny.

Today I hope to throw some words at the topic of annoyingly long movie titles, inspired by the upcoming release of Birds of Prey: And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn, which is decidedly an example of the latter. As in, the worst.

Come on, it’s just Birds of Prey, screw all that other noise. And most movie marquees around the country and the world will, indeed, be screwing all that other noise. You will not see the full title of this movie on any movie marquee in the world. But you will see it on every poster for the movie, albeit in significantly smaller type, which means some idiot in the marketing department at the studio is still trying to make And the Fantabulous Emancipation (breath) of One Harley Quinn happen.

But not every annoyingly long title is And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn. Maybe it’s only because I really liked the movie, naming it my #1 movie of 2014 and one of the top 25 of the last decade, but this new title reminds me most of Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance), a title for which I developed a limited fondness. As they are both, broadly, superhero movies, I even feel like Harley Quinn (I’m not writing that damn thing out again) is borrowing inspiration from Birdman. Both also seem to have pretentious ambitions, which again, I accept because the movie really worked for me in Birdman’s case.

Of course, probably the best example of the annoyingly long movie title is the one that does so specifically for the purposes of humor. Well, you might argue that most annoyingly long movie titles are done for humor, as otherwise you’d just switch to something more palatable. But there are certainly degrees to which the humor does or does not work.

Take, for example, Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan. Borat’s broken, some might say strangled, English was one of the biggest jokes about the character, so a title that is grammatically awkward, unduly worshipful of the man’s home country, and also gets at an obsession with America and its pop culture, is like killing three birds with one stone. I’ve made it a point of pride that I can roll off this title without any errors, when asked. (Because that particular scenario arrives just about every day.)

But long character-based titles don’t work just because it’s a somewhat beloved character. Sometimes they just try our patience. A couple years ago, the movie with the longest title on my whole movie list came out. It was called Jim & Andy: The Great Beyond – Featuring a Very Special, Contractually Obligated Mention of Tony Clifton. So Tony Clifton may not be beloved, but Jim Carrey and Andy Kaufman may both be, to varying degrees. But this title pretty much just made me smack my forehead. Suffice it to say that I definitely had to look up the correct wording just now.

The movie whose title is long just to make fun of the idea of long titles is also usually a bust. The first movie I’m discussing today that I haven’t seen is a prime example of that. That would be Don’t be a Menace to South Central While Drinking Your Juice in the Hood. Now that I’ve written it out, I think the title is not trying to make fun of the idea of long titles so much as it is being silly by trying to literally string together about four different titles. At least it’s better than Shriek If You Know What I Did Last Friday the 13th. There’s one more of these titles that is like twice this length but I’m having trouble tracking it down.

My favorite purely innocent long title is The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain. I suppose there is something cheeky about this – they could have figured out a simpler title if they’d wanted to – but the title does do an admirable job of describing what the movie is about, as it is about a provincial debate in the Welsh countryside about whether a local elevated surface is better described as a hill or a mountain. For a while, this was my favorite movie title to bring up in joke circumstances, when I was looking for something awkward to encapsulate a small, idiosyncratic non-blockbuster.

Supplanting The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain as my go-to random long title was Jeanne Dielmann, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles, which is not an easy choice as I always have to look up the exact wording, but is fun anyway. As this is an arthouse film with a very serious demeanor, this title exists to capture the everyday humdrum quality of a person’s life by naming the movie after her street address, not to be whimsical in any way, shape or form.

It’s probably worth including a subsection in this post about earnest documentaries with long subtitles, like Going Clear: Scientology and the Prison of Belief or If a Tree Falls: A Story of the Earth Liberation Front or Magic Trip: Ken Kesey’s Search for a Kool Place, but I don’t know that their length is “annoying.” Or if it is, it’s only annoying because it sounds more like the name of a graduate thesis than a movie.

I’m sure I’m only scratching the surface of movies whose titles test our patience and don’t always reward us, but I can’t end this discussion without mentioning probably the actual best movie to be guilty of a thing like this, which is Dr. Strangelove, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb. If Stanley Kubrick did it, there has to be some merit there, right?

As for this new movie coming out, I think the main things that annoy me about the title are that it a) makes up a word, b) uses the word “one” as though pretending we don’t know who Harley Quinn is, and c) suggests that the movie is entirely about the fact that she has been “emancipated” from her relationship with the Joker, or at least so it would appear.

I think I’ve had enough references to the Joker for a couple years, thank you very much.

Thursday, January 31, 2013

I finally saw: The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain


It looks like I was scratching a lot of long-gestating cinematic itches this past weekend. First From Dusk Till Dawn on Saturday, then this on Sunday.

And what was so significant about finally seeing The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain?

Well, I'll tell you.

The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain has long been my go-to movie when looking for an example of something with an unwieldy title or something that would sound fairly arcane. In fact, I just searched, and I've used it that way exactly four times on my blog. Here are the examples:

4/16/09: Lame of name

"And without even a memorable title to distinguish them, these films endure no better than half-remembered trailer fragments. Two years after they've left theaters, they're totally gone from even the bear-trap minds of the hardcore cinephiles.

The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain? Now there's a film I can remember."

3/26/10: How (not) to advertise your movie

"If they really didn't think we would be able to handle the outrageous grammatical complexity and highfalutin vocabulary of the title How to Train Your Dragon, they should have called it something else. It's not like it's The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain. It's not like it's Borat: Cultural Learnings of America For Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan."

8/14/10: Tainted!

"Both Mission: Impossible III and Inside Man were part of the initial 300-400 movies they give you automatically when you first join Flickchart, movies that are considered the most popular. (They do this so that new Flickcharters aren't immediately confronted with My Dinner With Andre and The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain)."

8/3/12: No "short wait" to revisit the original

"If a title is really popular -- say, Star Wars -- then Netflix probably keeps a dozen copies at any given distribution center. (I'm just throwing out numbers here -- I only have a vague idea of how large each distribution center is, and how many distribution centers there are.)  But if the movie is not very popular -- say, The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain -- then one or two copies per center would suffice."

Yeah, maybe I need to choose a new movie to use in this scenario. Actually, I have done so already, and would do so more if I didn't have to look up the damn title -- Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles -- every time.

The Englishman had been on our instant queue for some time, and it was one of the top three movies my wife seemed most enthusiastic about every time we passed it, so I knew it would get watched sooner rather than later. Sunday night, that time finally came, and I felt like I was finally putting my money where my mouth was.

Actually, there were reasons other than my love affair with the title that I might have seen this movie sooner. In my mind, I've been carrying on a love affair with its lead actress -- you know, the kind that takes place between a movie lover and an exquisitely charming star -- for nearly 20 years. I became smitten with British actress Tara Fitzgerald when I first saw her in A Man of No Importance back in 1994. I then saw her in Sirens (which I did not like very much) and Brassed Off! (which I liked quite a bit), but never (until now) saw her only other prominent movie ... well, ever. (She transitioned to being a TV actress pretty much full time in the mid-2000s, having made a handful of movies I've never heard of in the early part of that decade.) There's just something so button cute about this woman.

I also consider myself a Hugh Grant fan, so there's that as well.

So how did Hugh, Tara and the movie acquit themselves? And most importantly -- that title. Is it literal, or metaphorical?

Well, let's start with the title. It's most definitely literal. In fact, the premise of the possibly true story is quite wonderful, and makes the movie fit in well with the late 1990s trend of blue collar Brits banding together to overcome obstacles (see The Full Monty, Saving Grace and especially Waking Ned Devine, to which this movie is most similar). The "Brits" in this case are actually citizens of Wales, though there are two proper Englishmen in the movie as well (Grant and his stuffy compatriot, played by Ian McNeice). The Englishmen are in Wales (during World War I) for the purposes of cartography. They're using new technology to document the height of Wales' tallest supposed mountain -- which, if it does not exceed 1,000 feet, can only technically be classified as a hill. Swelling with local pride over the difficult-to-pronounce protuberance known as Ffynnon Garw ("Rough Fountain"), the citizen of the town agonize while waiting for the two mapmakers' final analysis of its true height. When Ffynnon Garw comes up just short, the townspeople conspire to artificially add 20 feet of height to their hill, to make it a mountain -- yet must also waylay the two mapmakers in the small village long enough for them to take a second reading, without letting on that that's what they're doing.

Although it's not as memorable nor quite as good as the films mentioned above, it's a damn charming little movie that mostly stays on course. Grant is not in full-on stammering mode, but he does have a couple great comic deliveries, most notably on his several attempts to pronounce the hill's name. He stumbles through these attempts in trademark Grant style, his eyes pleading for help out of a paralysis brought on by awkwardness. Fitzgerald doesn't really show up until the second half of the movie, but that's enough time to have seduced me again with her charms -- though never to the extent that she did in A Man of No Importance (which came out the previous year). Her role is a bit of a comedic one, and leads to some of the film's broadest moments -- not necessarily a good thing. Colm Meaney is worth mentioning as an innkeeper with questionable morals, who brings plenty of good cheer to the proceedings as well.

But perhaps the film's most unexpected surprise is the significant role essayed by Kenneth Griffith. Don't know who that is? I didn't know his name either, but I instantly knew his face, from the film that introduced Grant to most of us: Four Weddings and a Funeral, which happens to be a personal favorite of mine. Here he is in that film:


Still don't remember him? How about this hilarious exchange between his character (who we shall call "Old Man") and Grant's Charles during the first wedding?

Charles: How do you do, my name is Charles.
Old Man: Don't be ridiculous. Charles died 20 years ago.
Charles: Must be a different Charles, I think.
Old Man: Are you saying I don't recognize my own brother?

It's funny even in print, but the senile indignation mustered by Griffith just pushes it over the top.

I think I'd always assumed that this was just some random old man, perhaps a relative of one of the filmmakers, who had never been heard from before or since. Turns out that Griffith had over 100 credits in movies and TV, starting as long ago as 1941. (He died in 2006 at age 84.)

You might say that a little of him goes a longer way, but he's still quite enjoyable in the role of the parish priest, conflicted about asking his parishioners to work on the Sabbath to meet a deadline, but swelling with enough mountain pride to overcome his hesitations. I have to wonder if the actor himself had become a bit senile by this point, as his emotions don't always seem to be on the same page as the other actors' -- a couple times he even seems to be tearing up when the scene doesn't necessarily call for it. But he also produces a couple of those priceless looks of shocked befuddlement that seared him into my memory the first time I ever laid eyes on him, back in 1994.

Looking for a third straight I Finally Saw tomorrow? Too bad. I haven't finally seen anything else since Sunday.