"Hello Clarice..."

Okay, once again I've got another AFI project update to drop on you 18 Milers! Have watched quite a few already, but still have a long way to go in completing this almost Herculean task! It's fun though, so no complaints here.

Since we last left Dana's AFI update....

Silence of the Lambs: At first I was a little nervous to watch the uncut version of this film, since...well, I've never seen it unedited before! And yes, it's disturbing, but the gore level wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Hopkins is gleefully chilly and demented as Hannibal Lecter and Jodie Foster sports one hell of a thick West Virginian accent. What struck me about the film was...and I hope you'll forgive me if I go all "film-y" on you guys for a minute...was the use of full-frame close-ups. The story itself is so far-fetched (a psychiatrist cannibal and a serial transsexual killer making a woman suit out of his victims) that the close-ups bring you into the story, like you are the person they are looking at (whether it's Jodie Foster looking at you or Anthony Hopkins). Either way, as the viewer you are almost brought - unwillingly - into the action of the film, which makes it even more spine-tingling!

The Shawshank Redemption: I think people generally underrate this film, because its impact is so subtle, but every time I see it I remember just how powerful it is. Tim Robbins stars as a man sentenced to life in Shawshank Prison for killing his wife and her lover. There he meets Red, played amazingly by Morgan Freeman, who becomes an unlikely friend. All the characters in this are great and unique in their own way, whether its Brooks the "bird man" of the prison or Heywood, the Hank Williams-loving bumpkin. Morgan Freeman was nominated for a Best Actor Oscar for his role, and watching it again this time, I still wonder why he didn't win it. Though he's done some great roles in his career, this was truly one of his best.

Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid: This 1969 film, starring Paul Newman and Robert Redford is considered by many to be the ultimate "buddy" picture, as they play two train and bank robbers running from...well, pretty much everybody! There is action galore, but the writing is also really clever, which makes it sort of a smart action film and both Newman and Redford are super in this ("If he'd just pay me what he's spending to make me stop robbing him, I'd stop robbing him!").

Saving Private Ryan: This Steven Spielberg film is, in many ways, a typical Spielberg film (pacing, visual cues, fairly straight-ahead, no surprises storytelling), and in some ways it doesn't feel terribly far away from a film he did several years before this one, Schindler's List. However, it does have its moments. I remember when this film came out, several media outlets talked about the screening Spielberg did for several WWII veterans and how difficult it was for them to watch the opening beach sequence (a solid 20-minute assault, complete with bombs, missing limbs, and more bullets than I could ever count). And yes, it is something to see - about as close as I or many of you will ever get to actually being in a war. I can't speak with any authority whatsoever about the authenticity of it, but I felt pretty beat up after watching it. However, often overlooked is the bridge battle in Rammel at the end of the film, which I thought was just as strong (at one point, you have a German soldier and an American Jewish soldier fighting hand-to-hand combat...symbolism much?) In some ways, the premise is a little far-fetched with Private Ryan losing all of his brothers in combat and a unit led by Tom Hanks has to find him to send him home. But there are little surprises in this, like Barry Pepper's scripture-quoting sniper, or Paul Giamatti as a beleagured commander. Spielberg plays it pretty safe with this picture, but when you are making a film essentially honoring WWII veterans, it's kind of expected.

Have your own thoughts/experiences with these AFI films? Share them in our comments section!

Next in my queue: A Clockwork Orange, Unforgiven, Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?