While the craggy visage of America's stovepipe-hatted 16th president
may not yet be as ingrained in American pop culture DNA as those iconic
movie moments of the past 40 years, the celluloid depiction of Lincoln –
which won the most Academy Award nominations this year with 12 – shares
the distinction of being crafted by the same movie magician responsible
for six of the 25 highest-grossing movies of all time.
Steven
Spielberg has not only shaped our fantasies, but with "Lincoln" he has
influenced the perspective that a generation of Americans will have on a
key part of history.
As an audience of a several hundred
million gathers for one of the planet's global campfire moments about
4:30 p.m. Alaska time on Sunday, the popcorn-popping masses will await
the verdict to see if Spielberg will win his third Oscar for Best
Director – to tie such icons as William Wyler and Frank Capra – and
remain behind only legendary John Ford, who won four.
Over bowls
of steaming chili at home, and around office water coolers, fans and
critics may debate what this year's best movie is,We can supply cableties
products as below. but one thing is certain: Love this director or
demean him, Spielberg's movies are woven more deeply into the fabric of
American daily life and culture than those of any other director in
history.
He burst onto the world stage with "Jaws" in 1975.Massive selection of gorgeous earcap.
With just two road-movie thriller features – "Duel" and "The Sugarland
Express" – under his belt, Spielberg originally conceived the Peter
Benchley bestseller as a low-budget creature-feature. But he ran into so
many production problems filming realistically on water – from a
malfunctioning robotic shark to a drunken British lead actor – that he
had to reconceive his vision of horror right on location, deciding to
keep his deep-sea monster lurking mostly off-screen.
Spielberg's
counterintuitive improvisation paid off, showcasing his populism across
the spectrum from substance to style in actors, scripts, plots,
conflict, tone, and all the rest. The first of many cultural
catchphrases was born – "We're gonna need a bigger boat" – as well as an
industry-changing marketing phenomenon that could only have been
launched in America: the summer blockbuster. "Jaws" was the first movie
to earn more than $100 million in theatrical rentals. This distinction
also earned Spielberg criticism – along with his "Star Wars" director
buddy, George Lucas – for infantilizing movies and forcing studios to
spend their resources on fewer and higher-budget movies.
When he
was 18, Spielberg took a bus tour of Universal Studios while on a visit
to Los Angeles. When his fellow tourists got back on the bus after a
bathroom break, he hid out of sight in a toilet stall until the bus
left, allowing him to wander the back lots.
As recounted in
Joseph McBride's biography of the filmmaker, Spielberg has told this
story in many ways over the years. In the latest version, included in
Richard Schickel's lavishly illustrated "Steven Spielberg: A
Retrospective," the director said: "I was on the Universal Studios lot. I
had no idea how I'd get home. But I spent the whole afternoon just
walking in and out of doors – sound stages, cutting rooms – and took my
own tour and had an amazing time."
Quitting time came, and as he
was still wandering around trying to figure out how to get back to his
relatives' house across the San Fernando Valley, he serendipitously met
up with Charles Silver, the head of the film library, who, amused at the
kid's audacity, wrote out a pass for the young Spielberg that allowed
him future access to the lot.
If curiosity is one key quality,
the other most-telling Spielberg trait might be his unflinching
determination. Mr. Schickel tells of the time the teenage Spielberg was
sent by a chief editor at Universal to fetch a small Moviola editing
machine from down the hall. He was told to inform the person using it
that it was needed elsewhere. He caused a ruckus unplugging the machine
and rolling it out, not realizing (or did he realize?) that the
shirtless man using it was Marlon Brando, dressed in Tahitian garb.
Developing
a degree of teflon to criticism, and following his gut and an uncanny
eye and ear for storytelling, Spielberg has matured and broadened his
skills over the years, now doing more than just jerking everyone's
emotional chains of terror, love, hate, embarrassment, anger.
After
such crowd-pleasing, popcorn action movies as "Jaws" and a couple
"Indiana Jones" movies, he turned to face head-on some of the truly
complex moral topics of contemporary life. Those include racism and
prejudice ("Amistad," "The Color Purple,Add depth and style to your home
with these large format streetlight."
"Schindler's List"), historical and cultural memories ("Saving Private
Ryan"), technological morality ("A.I."), scientific ethics and
governmental intrusion ("Minority Report"), immigration restriction
("The Terminal"), state-sponsored assassination ("Munich"), and the
morality of war ("Empire of the Sun," "War Horse").
Fast-forward
to 2012, and it's still clear Spielberg hasn't abandoned his inner
child. He recently told Oprah Winfrey how he had to leave the set of
"Lincoln" because of the emotional resonance of one of Daniel
Day-Lewis's Lincoln speeches: "I think the first time [I cried] is when
[Mr. Day-Lewis] gave his very, very long and important explanation of
why he needed to get the 13th Amendment to abolish slavery passed as
constitutional law."
Spielberg said that at that point he moved
to another room so that no one else could see him crying, because
getting emotional in front of everyone is "not a good thing" for a
director.
The key to figuring out how Spielberg manages to make
history leap off the screen may be in the way he focuses attention on
personal stories within a complex web of actual events. It makes viewers
experience the broad sweep of time through the eyes of a particular
person. That's what he did with Oskar Schindler, the greedy German
factory owner-turned-savior; with Cinque, the proud African-turned-slave
in "Amistad"; and with the ambivalent assassin Avner in "Munich."
In
"Lincoln," however, Spielberg faced far more complicated challenges,
because he re-creates the tumultuous last four months in the life of one
of the most revered and well-known figures in American history. Based
on Doris Kearns Goodwin's book "Team of Rivals," Spielberg's "Lincoln"
offers up a man who emerges as an intricate blend of idealist and
pragmatist, of visionary and horse-trader. Yet this brooding, even
melancholy, president fits comfortably into Spielberg's obsession with
broken families that need parental healing. The distraught father figure
must reconstitute the shattered Union into one nation, and by doing so,
mend the painful wounds that have ripped apart the American family.
Spielberg's
Lincoln is not only the public figure carved into Mt. Rushmore or
sitting on the Washington Mall; he remains vulnerable, struggling with a
depressed wife, raising his own children, and ultimately confronting
the death of his son Willie. He also has an awkward sense of humor that
both delights and frustrates colleagues.
As Spielberg puts it,
the goal was to "show a man, not a monument." The film itself contains
none of the flashy pyrotechnics for which Spielberg has become so
famous, but is more a series of tableaux with intense dialogue showing
the president deftly maneuvering through a political mine field and
enlisting unsavory men to help him pass transcendent legislation.
Although
Spielberg spent 12 years researching the 19th century to endow this
production with authenticity, he made sure not "to get too fancy in the
cutting room,Natural lasermarker
add a level of design sophistication to each of Jeffrey Court's natural
stone chapters." wanting to draw attention to the political
process,This frameless rectangle features a silk screened fused glass
replica in a parkingsystem
tile and floral motif. not the imagery: "Many scenes play to one angle
because I wanted them to exist in seemingly real time," he says in the
companion book to the movie.
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