Movie Maladies: ‘Once Upon A Time in America’ (1984)

So while writing an earlier blog post, I thought of a way to revive my blog (hopefully) for good. On a Monday, a bad day of the week, I can write about a movie or series that I hate and think are bad.

Therefore, I welcome you all to ‘Movie Maladies’ first entry: Once Upon A Time in America. This is probably going to be a controversial take but it’s my opinion. Sergio Leone’s 1984 film has a definitive title, adapted from the novel The Hoods by Harry Grey, which is intended as an epic crime story with Robert De Niro as the leading man. It sounds exciting to read such a description and the film’s poster only adds to that excitement.

SPOILERS AHEAD / CONTENT WARNING: mentions of s*xual violence/r*pe

IMDb synopsis: A former Prohibition-era Jewish gangster returns to the Lower East Side of Manhattan 35 years later, where he must once again confront the ghosts and regrets of his old life.

I like gangster cinema. Films like ‘The Godfather‘ (and ‘Part II‘), ‘Scarface‘ and ‘Goodfellas‘ are among my favourites. ‘Once Upon A Time in America‘ has pretty great reviews and has an IMDb rating high enough to enter the site’s Top 250 list. So, I was expecting to really enjoy it.

Unfortunately, I didn’t. ‘Once Upon A Time in America’ is a tedious, gratuitously elongated mess with a deviance to its morals. It was a disappointing and uncomfortable experience that didn’t meet expectations.

A Tedious Narrative

Long runtimes can be an issue for me since I struggle with attention. This might be the longest film I’ve seen, at least the longest English-language film since I’ve seen Indian films that go on for 3 hours+. Anyway, long runtimes aren’t that much of an issue for me so as long as the film is actually good. Like I mentioned earlier, The first two Godfather films are personal favourites…and they have long runtimes. But they’re great pieces of cinema that make the runtimes worth it.

I didn’t think this of ‘Once Upon a Time in America‘. The narrative is intriguing on the surface but gratuitously lengthy at its core. Noodles (Robert De Niro) returning to New York to face his past didn’t need to last 3 hours and 49 minutes. Especially when the narrative progression is slow and filled with some highly questionable content. The bottom line is that I was bored, exhausted and disturbed.

The introduction outstays its welcome with the added irritation of a telephone ringing. Noodles is being hunted by some shady-looking men, who kill what appears to be his girlfriend and then search through a theatre. This scene also lingers on a shot of a shady man rubbing the tip of his gun over a woman’s bare breast… which was pointless and confusing. The representation of women is a whole other rant that will appear below.

Meanwhile, Noodles makes his way to the train station to leave the city indefinitely. There was a transition from Noodles in the 1930s to Noodles in the 1960s, accompanied by an orchestral version of The Beatles’ ‘Yesterday’. I had to do a double-take because The Beatles’ music was one of the last things I expected from this film. It was jarring, I can’t lie.

As the story continues, following Noodles reuniting with his old neighbourhood and friends, many flashbacks are placed in between to try and flesh out the story. The transitions between the past and present are average except for one: Noodles’ release from prison and being met by Max.

Young Noodles stabs a notable gangster to death as revenge for shooting a friend dead. He goes to prison and is released as a young man, met by Max (James Woods) and their group reunites to become engaged in organised crime. While this life is not glamourised (thankfully), there is little to care for in terms of the ‘why’.

Their crimes are basic, their friendship has little substance and the characters themselves are hardly memorable. By the final scene, a mundane end to the characters of Noodles and Max is all there is to conclude the 3 hours 49 minutes.

I’m aware that a cut version of the film is considered below average. But as for me, the full-length film isn’t very good to begin with.

Problematic Representations of Women and Children

The main issue I have with ‘Once Upon A Time in America’ is how it portrays the women and the younger versions of the primary characters. How on earth did they allow this to happen?!

Early in the film, Noodles removes a tile in the bathroom wall to peek through a room, flashing back to his childhood. Young Noodles watches Deborah (played by a very young Jennifer Connelly), his ‘love interest’ as she practices a dance routine to music. She appears aware of his peeping and once she’s finished, there’s an unnecessary shot… A reminder that Jennifer Connelly was around 11 or 12…

Unfortunately, there was more after this. Young Noodles and a neighbourhood girl named Peggy have a scene in the bathroom of their block of flats. She is apparently an underage prostitute and is seen in vulnerable situations that are not appropriate given her age.

I’m not sure why anyone thought any of this was necessary or acceptable.

Now onto the next category: women. In one instance, the men perform a diamond heist with some assistance from Carol (Tuesday Weld). She tells Noodles to make their attack more realistic and he proceeds to r*pe her. The scene is intense and uncomfortable and there is no consequence for Noodles’ actions. In fact, Carol later has to identify which of the four men r*ped her by examining their lower regions. The scene seems to intend on being humorous, a jarring façade over what is a clear immoral act. She eventually enters a relationship with Max, who has moments of yelling at and berating her.

Carol (Tuesday Weld) identifying the men.

That must be it, right? Wrong! The next r*pe scene is arguably worse. A grown-up Noodles also meets a now grown-up Deborah (Elizabeth McGovern) and their connection is set to be romantic. After an evening spent on a lavish date, where they also open up about their feelings, Deborah reveals her plans for the future. Noodles is unable to accept this. During their car ride home, Deborah kisses him. But he then brutally r*pes her despite her audible cries to stop. The scene goes on for a shocking few minutes and Deborah is visibly violated and her anguish ignored as the audience can do nothing. The driver of the car can listen to this deviancy, stopping the car before Noodles tells him to drop Deborah off home.

Noodles and Deborah go on a lavish date before it all goes extremely offensive.

To rub salt in the wound, the present day Noodles meets Deborah again and there is no apology or much remorse from him. Deborah even appears fine to speak with him, barely exhibiting any signs of trauma.

To trivialise something heinous like sexual violence is flabbergasting. The film doesn’t bother to highlight these problematic scenes as transgressions and the audience seemingly has to continue sympathising with Noodles. It’s hard to find Noodles a believable character bearing a burden of regret when his actions towards women (including his supposed love interest) is reduced to nothing.

Pointless & Unsympathetic Characters

The film represents a significant Jewish community in New York and this identity is hardly explored. Other than a few signifiers of Jewish religious and cultural traditions, this aspect to the characters’ identities may as well have been omitted altogether. In fact, I initially assumed that the film was another in the collection of Italian-American gangster stories.

Noodles and Max are two central characters. But the gang also includes Patsy and Cockeye, who’s names I had forgotten about until checking the Wikipedia page. The latter pair have little to do in the film’s narrative other than be friends and fellow criminals to Noodles and Max.

As mentioned already, Noodles is not only a criminal but also a r*pist. For being the protagonist who had to run and hide for 30 years after his friends were murdered, it seems as if he’s supposed to be sympathetic given his life experiences. However, the unnecessary scenes of violence against women truly mars his identity as a decent man. The act of making amends once Noodles returns to New York City would have been admirable had it not been for the complete skip over his crimes against Carol and Deborah. I had little change in perception of Noodles by the final scenes and the final shot of his episode in the opium den is anti-climactic. Therefore, I couldn’t care for Noodles at all once the film finished.

The only characters I pity are two of the female leads: Deborah and Carol.

Any Redeeming Qualities?

I wouldn’t say the film has elements that ‘redeem’ it. Rather, some good standalone merits should’ve been in a better film.

The acting from the main cast was good. It was my first James Woods role and as Max, he had scenes where he shone and was on par with Robert De Niro. If the story was as good, it wouldn’t have been wasted.

There is one shot of the younger versions of the characters walking across the street, with the Brooklyn Bridge in the distance, framed by the local buildings. I suppose this is iconic and recognisable to cinephiles. But it’s also a very beautifully constructed shot. Again, it deserved to be in a better film.

Conclusion

There you have it, I dislike ‘Once Upon A Time in America’. It’s a problematic mess that did not provide an interesting story or contribute significantly to the gangster epic genre. I’m aware that many people hold this film in high regard. But I couldn’t appreciate it the same way.

This is my first Sergio Leone film, so I hope the Dollars trilogy and Once Upon A Time in The West will change my opinions.

Letterboxd rating: ⭐

‘Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story’ – Review

(I am back! The Menendez brothers case and this new series have been on my mind A LOT this past week. So here is a review of everything I can think of about it. Expect more to come.)

SPOILERS AHEAD

Another true crime instalment to Ryan Murphy’s ‘Monster’ anthology has hit Netflix with another record viewership. Based on the real-life case, it follows Lyle (Nicholas Alexander Chavez) and Erik (Cooper Koch) Menendez, who murdered their parents, Jose (Javier Bardem) and Kitty (Chloe Sevigny) as the series takes the audience for a dive into what happened and why.

As a Gen-Z girl born a couple of years after the case concluded, the information I had of the Menendez brothers was minimal. I was aware that they killed their parents and there was a debate as to whether it was justified or not. Beyond that, I never took personal time to thoroughly research the case. Upon seeing that this was now on Netflix, I became more intrigued. So I’ve been educating myself as much as I can about the real case (and still am).

While suddenly ill and in bed, I watched through ‘Dahmer’, the anthology’s first season, and found that quite *sickening*. Immediately after, I began the new season cautiously as many on social media noted the series’ inaccuracy to the real events. The result is a partly compelling, partly messy narrative that has even received criticism from Erik Menendez, dividing critics and audiences alike.

A Broken Carousel of Stories

From reading up on and watching real clips of the case, I understand the reality of Lyle and Erik having murdered their parents as a result of years of abuse and fear for their lives. The title of ‘Monsters’ is perhaps the first glaring flaw. Even the poster (see header), suggests the brothers as dark and sinister. I guess it’s to keep up with the series as an anthology, given the predecessor ‘Dahmer’. However, Lyle and Erik Menendez are not serial killers by definition. There are far more nuances around their circumstances to make them victims than ‘monsters’. Browsing social media, a comment by someone left an impression on me regarding the label: ‘monsters’ is probably more appropriate for Jose and Kitty. However, the series’ approach is clearly intended to represent multiple points of view.

image credit: Netflix / Entertainment Weekly

The episodes are a carousel of ideas on the possibilities of the brothers’ intentions, motives and actions before, during and after the killings. In the words of Ryan Murphy, it employs the ‘Rashomon effect’ of multiple, varying perspectives. I won’t lie, I haven’t seen ‘Rashomon’ myself but know of this film technique. Unfortunately, this carousel is clunky because sometimes, it spins too fast and can be confusing. Additionally, some elements are altered for dramatic effect and that is a risky move for biopics. Murphy justifies the series as allowing the audience to come to their own conclusions. But this has proven to be problematic.

Why?

One of the more notable perspectives presented and has (rightly) received much backlash is a possible incestuous relationship between the brothers (see header again). In one scene, Kitty’s perspective shows her walking in on them showering together. Despite this being represented as a point-of-view, an earlier depiction of the brothers shows them with potentially homoerotic undertones, with surrounding characters reacting in confusion. If this was supposed to be another perspective, it wasn’t highlighted very well. After the killings, it serves as part of a sequence of the brothers going on a spending spree. The series let itself fall into this controversy of depicting abused, traumatised brothers as potentially being in a relationship. I’ve learnt that Ryan Murphy is often accused of sexualising men, which is definitely shady.

Erik Menendez released his criticism of the show, especially regarding the portrayal of Lyle. The latter is presented as loud, sometimes angry and even self-centred in some perspectives. Switching between perspectives does not do justice to Lyle as coming away from the series, I was unsure who he really was. Lyle’s exchange with a woman named Norma while incarcerated was recorded and published as a book, seemingly damning his earlier court testimony. Another example is Lyle telling his friends and girlfriend to fabricate an alibi for him. I’m still reading some of these points to check the facts vs. fiction. For example, the recordings were not used as evidence because Lyle vented frustration with the presiding judge. Pairing the show’s depictions with the fragmented perspectives doesn’t paint Lyle honestly; I didn’t get to know him through the series.

At times, the series seemed to switch to a humorous tone to become a comedy than a crime drama. The spending spree and imagined escape sequences are guilty of this. The latter even involves showing the brothers in disguise as women to live in secrecy. This would’ve been fine had the show been purely fiction. But since it’s a true and serious case, it can be jarring. The inconsistency in tone makes the series feel confused by itself.

image credit: Netflix / Variety

Ultimately, the evidence supporting Lyle and Erik’s stories is much more revealing than how the show presents it. There were multiple testimonies from extended family members which corroborated the claims of abuse by Jose and Kitty, along with the latter’s cruel apathy. The real testimonies by the brothers on the stand also exhibit pure, raw emotion on how the years of abuse affected them. I’m no behavioural expert, but I thought it would be difficult to fake such responses to such extreme trauma. After watching Dr. G and Observe‘s analyses on YouTube, the reality became more clear.

The series’ reliance on multiple perspectives diminishes the facts. It doesn’t approach the case as the brothers resorting to an extreme decision after years of abuse and fear and being unfairly sentenced to life without parole. Instead, ‘Monsters’ unnecessarily plays with different theories to suggest that the case is inherently open-ended for the public to decide, including if they are indeed ‘monsters’.

The final scene was confusing to watch as, in my opinion, it seems to cement that theory.

The Hum and The Performance

While there are numerous criticisms of ‘Monsters’, the series did achieve some merits. The production value and cinematography were visually nice. The late 80’s/early 90’s mise-en-scene of Beverly Hills, California is inviting but juxtaposes the darkness behind closed doors.

Songs from Milli Vanilli and other 90’s artists would fill some sequences, some fitting choices for the zeitgeist. But the music by Thomas and Julie Newman was also fantastic. I always noticed the score ‘Hum’ as a recurring motif every time it played. The vocalisation is laced with a warm but tense melody, creating a paradox of feelings as the events unfold.

The highlight, though, is the cast’s performances. I’m very familiar with Javier Bardem and Chloe Sevigny, who were fantastic as Jose and Kitty Menendez, respectively. Yet, the standouts were Nicholas Alexander Chavez and Cooper Koch as Lyle and Erik.

Unbeknownst to me, I saw Cooper Koch in ‘Power Book II: Ghost’. He had a small role in two episodes in season one. Nicholas, on the other hand, had been completely off my radar until now. As the formal introduction to me of their acting capabilities, I was thoroughly impressed with their emotional range and realism. They are incredibly talented.

Episode 5: ‘The Hurt Man’, is considered the standout episode for a reason. The one-take episode of Leslie speaking to Erik in prison as he recounts his childhood sexual abuse is phenomenal. Some moments had me genuinely tearing up hearing the harrowing details and Cooper’s acting really sold the entirety of it. His own meeting with the brothers in person, and wholeheartedly believing and supporting them, shows how much the role was carefully portrayed by him.

Ari Graynor and Cooper Koch in Episode 5 ‘The Hurt Man’ | image credit: Netflix / Vanity Fair

The courtroom scene of Lyle on the stand, also recounting his sexual abuse as a child, was also a profound display of emotion from Nicholas. From the tremble in his voice to the sheer pain of looking at his brother, I found myself feeling a deep sadness again. Nicholas also portrayed the anger and frustration of Lyle (despite its criticism for authenticity) very convincingly, especially in scenes where he confronts his parents. He was a strong performer throughout.

Shout out to Ari Graynor as Leslie Abramson and Nathan Lane as Dominic Dunne too.

But alas, it’s a shame that such fantastic acting was marred by the inaccuracies of the case.

Conclusions

Overall, the series has been rightfully criticised. It’s a fragmented narrative of the real Menendez brothers which fails to be objective by (oddly) trying to be objective. I wish if a dramatised series was necessary, it was handled with more care based on thorough research and permission from the Menendez brothers themselves. I appreciate all the hard work the cast put into their respective performances. The series has sparked renewed interest in the case, including myself. However, it should be a disclaimer that this version is not the ultimate explanation of the events.

Go ahead and catch up on the real case. The new documentary ‘The Menendez Brothers’ dropped on Netflix while writing this review. I’d recommend watching that to hear Lyle and Erik’s own words. You can also watch the YouTube channel Justice Watchdog, run by Erik’s wife Tammi and admins to hear more from Erik.

On a slight tangent, I’ve seen plenty of edits of Nicholas Chavez and Cooper Koch being made on TikTok. A lot comes with disclaimers about editing the actors and not the characters. Admittedly, they are very handsome men. But I wonder if this will open any debate into how such pop cultural phenomena occur. I know I will be watching the lead actors’ careers with much more interest and I hope to see them in more projects soon.

As for the real Lyle and Erik Menendez, I’ve joined so many others in supporting them. It’s heartbreaking to hear what they went through and they deserve so much better. Imagine a life gone because the people who were supposed to love and care for you, hurt you instead and you were stuck in a ‘kill or be killed’ situation. I don’t condone murder, but the circumstances surrounding the Menendez brothers make it all understandable. They could’ve served time and then be released. Instead, they’ve been in prison for 35 years. I hope with recent developments, they can get a retrial and be freed soon!

#FreeTheMenendezBrothers