The Madness of Banging the Little Fugitive Slowly

The Madness of King George (1994): starring Nigel Hawthorne, Helen Mirren, Rupert Graves, Amanda Donohoe, Rupert Everett
Sometimes the movie is a little obvious, in much the same way other movies from this time period were (in much the same way Robin Williams' "Dead Poet's Society" did things big and obvious), but Nigel Hawthorne delivers an astounding performance as the maligned king. The costumes too, are of considerable note, as far as period pieces go, this one manages to capture the essence of a specific moment in time. Not the best of the period movies, but certainly not the least.
*** out of *****

Bang The Drum Slowly (1973): Starring Robert DeNiro, Michael Moriarty, Vincent Gardenia, Phil Foster
It's a slow-paced little movie about ball players, and one happens to be dying of an incurable disease. It doesn't jump off the screen and captivate viewers, but only because the writing is so pedestrian. DeNiro's performance isn't particularily noticeable, but that's only because of how low-key it is. In fact, all the performances are lowkey, and it's only when Moriarty smashes up a locker room after being confronted with the pain of his friend dying, that we see a spark of life here. The entire team squabbles a little, but as each team member learns of the catcher's disease, they become more empathetic towards one another, until by the end of the movie, they're all singing songs together. This movie had a definite potential, I just don't feel it reached it.
**1/2 out of *****

Little Fugitive (1953): starring Richie Andrusco, Richard Brewster, Winifred Cushing, Jay Williams
As twilight descends on coney island, you can almost taste the salt water air and feel the cool ocean breeze on your cheek. The movie is less a character study and more a day in the life of a boy at a very specific time and place. Rather than a plot taking us along to it's pre-determined destination, things merely happen, and we bear silent witness to it. It's a simple story of two brothers, maybe aged 6 and 11, and the older brother tricks the younger into thinking he's killed him, thus sending the younger brother on the run. He goes to Coney island, and spends a couple of days on the beach and on the boardwalk, drowning his sorrow in junk food and pony rides. Directed by Morris Engel and Ray Ashley, the film has all the quality of an artistic (not artsy-fartsy) documentary, there's very little in the way of script of plot, it's basically an exercise in film and subject matter. And yet, somewhere in the midst of all this artistic vision, a tender story comes out and forms a touching image. It's almost impossible not to see this as a real life story, and it's also almost impossible not to fall in love with the little boy. The charm of this document and it's by-gone era lies with the people it photographs, and as a snapshot of Coney Island and New York, it's almost a love letter.
**** out of *****