Thoughts of a pseudo-film junkie

The Iceman Cometh - 1973

2008-10-25T01:30:00.002-04:00

Ultimately, this movie is a melodramatic exercise which does not make good use of cinematic tricks and turns(and, God, it's way too long). The characters work too often in flourishes, spouting off lines between silence that speaks to profundity--rather, it allows for little development. Melodrama exists with types, and there is nothing necessarily wrong with that, but long speeches debase characters and excoriate viewers. After a certain point, staging becomes painful and one cannot help but be bored. Get something interesting to say, or shut up.

Rumble Fish - 1983

2008-10-17T23:22:00.003-04:00

This is 50's melodrama, Rebel Without a Cause and other quasi-beatnik films, told with expressionistic gait. The soul of the country has been ripped out and spat on, then shot a few times for good measure. Mists creep down the streets until they're replaced by dust storms; there are stark shadows at all times of the day. Dennis Hopper is sensible, articulate and controlled: need I say more? This is a movie from a different stream. All rivers flow out to the sea, but some take confused paths filled with unusual fish.

People are trapped in their respective roles: notice how people have titles they cannot deviate from. Rusty James(Matt Dillon) is that for the whole movie, the Motorcycle Kid(Mickey Rourke) is that. They cannot deviate from that. The streets are the same, the mist and fog wrap them in a cruel shroud. Between flashes down blind alleys you get the impression they've done this before, seen all of this before. Coppola might intend for them to be in High School, but their age wrinkles through their skin. These are people who have seen all this town had at least fifteen years ago. Like The Last Picture Show, this is about the quiet curdling of desire into acceptance of what you around yourself. They might not be happy--and they cannot have Camus-esque existentialism--but they can manage wry jokes and more belts of whiskey then the guy in the next town.

The imagery is, indeed, perhaps too strong: there is almost something absurd about them rescuing all the animals in the end. The cop finally shooting the Motorcycle Kid--are we to suppose him Jesus? This is movie that throws quite a bit at the screen and hopes some of it sticks. There are splendid images, one is reminded of Welles' visual creativity, and the movie manages to never be dull(in this sense). However, movies of this kind are perhaps too heavy with their allegorical import. Although there are advantages to this, and Rumble Fish manages to get a great deal out of its latent images(and visual cues to old films), the focus on existentialism might undercut the film too much. It makes too easy of a 'this=this' sort of framework, which seems at times contrarian to expressionistic film-making.

And, of course, Tom Waits plays Benny from 'Benny's Billiards'. This makes me happy: how often can you have Waits, Nicholas Cage, Matt Dillon and Lawrence Fishburne in one scene?

Casino - 1995

2008-10-10T23:10:00.001-04:00

Although structurally sound--the narrator losing control as 'the bosses' take power away from him--the end result is somehow tame, beneath other Scorsese efforts. De Niro is quiet and serious; Pesci is violent and a man almost nihilistically bent. Goodfellas does this better. At the risk of simplification, this movie re-hashes ideas. Perhaps it has a more serious tone, but that does not alter the fundamental likeness it shares with his previous works. It is difficult to say much beyond that: the movie is quietly akin and, really, a worse version.

With one important difference. The inclusion of a female lead is somewhat atypical for later Scorsese films. Earlier, with movies like Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore, there was a conscious effort for more than 'tough guys'; over time, it seems, the emphasis switched to these tropes he has become so famous for. Even if Stone does not play a particularly powerful female character, it is worth considering that she maneuvers in her own way. The main difference, explicitly stated here while assumed in other Scorsese films, is that people are inherently verminous; they do what they have to do and, really, that's their nature. So, structurally, the character is like others Scorsese has shown before, she attracts special attention by virtue of her gender.

La Cité des enfants perdus(The City of Lost Children) - 1995

2008-10-07T00:04:00.002-04:00

One(Ron Perlman) is latter day Zampano, from La Strada. The difference in character is striking enough: whereas Zampano had much, still, to learn about humanity, One realized that other individuals are what matters. The director--who also helmed the perhaps too famous Amélie--places importance on reality at hand rather than supposed reality(of dreams). Keep close those that are close and, even if it seems worth going as the Cyclops(bravado courtesy of Polyphemus), only sacrifice yourself for those you can see with your own two eyes.

Now, that said(and it's all well and good), there is a certain air to this film which seem unnecessarily distant: despite arguing for humanity, the focus, to excess, of special effects shots overloads the actors. There is a great deal of flash, and I can respect the dystopian feel of the whole film, but it seems overwrought--as if these glares and billowing smokescreens might obscure something at the heart of the film. If I'm looking for deep characters, someone to care about(as the film seems focused on), then I doubt I'll find them here. Despite invoking Fellini--and, understandably, his contentions of characters is sometimes absurd--there is very little of the caring that so often filled those movies. Perhaps this is aimed for children and I am being too harsh: still, it would be nice to suppose that the effects and fantastic characters amount for more than just set-pieces, that we can give a damn about them.

Splendor in the Grass - 1961

2008-10-05T22:29:00.002-04:00

The movie opens in a wet dream: Natalie Wood and Warren Beatty are in his car necking and he makes his move. Upset by this, she declines and the dream is split open while he stares out over the (cold) rocks. Both have been told what is the proper way to be a (fe)male and, given the times, premarital sex is simply off the table. Angst from sex deferred underlines and defines the film, perhaps too well.

Splendor in the Grass fits nicely into psycho-sexual films from the 60's. Rather than limiting problems simply to the individual, there was a push to include their parents and other Freudian tropes into the equation(this was, in addition to, psychology more so entering the public arena). Characters were more 'robust'--they responded the way textbooks would describe, they cringed from the sadness that a good lay should provide. The critique, since it is fairly straight out there, is of conformity of the 'olden days' prior to WW2. The audience should be past that, it seems.

Natalie Wood is proto-Marnie: the female, in apparently these sexually repressive times, needs the restorative powers of orgasm. The movie makes a painful attempt at keeping certain words from the audience--sex is spoken like a bad word, curious that the film decided to take a peak at it for so long. She has been assigned a cultural role which she does not want; the seeds of rebellion are planted, and this film speaks to that given culture(consider, too, that Elia Kazan directed the oft-praised East of Eden which, ultimately, is akin to this in many ways).

Curiously, the movie takes little interest in the fact that it values psychiatry over parents. I am not necessarily saying one must be better than the other, but there is still a distinct appeal to authority outside the individual who knows better than they do about themselves(love, in this case). These appeals to authority are later dropped in psycho-sexual films of the era--the end result, being, that nobody gets a good lay but, hell, there's not anyone who cares. Appealing to the demographic of the times(I might be reaching), this seems apt.

The Big Lebowski - 1998

2008-10-03T00:37:00.003-04:00

This movie is birthed from stoned visits to late night film houses, discussions soaked in gin with a slight hint of irony shot at the viewer. Here's the deal: how about instead of someone competent investigating, like Humphrey Bogart, we have "The Dude"(Jeff Bridges) find out who kidnapped the rich man's wife? It's a joke, extended over a long time, that lovingly reclines its desires into the past(No Country For Old Men, additionally, is a sentimental film in this way). However, the fundamental difference in posturing is thus: The Big Lebowski admires those old films and places "modern" characters within them to raise respect--think Tarantino--but No Country For Old Men argues against modernism. In the end, I believe admiration for the past while positing new roles, new functions, within society is more important than blind allegiance to once past moral codes.

But, that tangent ended, I find this film a refreshing combination of clichés and tongue-in-cheek. Like After Hours but played for laughs rather than the occasional serious nod. "The Dude" is the guy who is mired in culture, appreciative of movies gone by but wishing, perhaps, for a role within them. In the end, as a tribute to films, this is a fine movie with many great gags along the way. Should be fun to revisit in a few years.

Paul Newman: 1925-2008

2008-10-01T19:00:00.001-04:00

Standing for integrity, Paul Newman's famous characters(The Sting, Cool Hand Luke, The Verdict, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof) fought against injustice, no matter their side of the law(considering Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid). Obstinate, he would drag himself from the dredges of hell to stand steadfast against the strongest of adversaries. Now, after these many years and great roles, he dies--and so, too, a reunion project he was going to make with Robert Redford.

I remember, in the remarkably well done The Verdict, when he picks himself up and realizes what it means to be good, to do the right thing in face of adversity. Newman was an actor nearly unparalleled; a literal great, and I am hardly light in saying so. His muscles had contorted, and even fighting the Church(de-facto God in the town) had to be done because it was right.

He will be missed.

Killer of Sheep - 1977

2008-09-30T00:12:00.004-04:00

The film begins with a father scolding his son to be a real man, to grow up and accept the problems that life throws at him. Don't get too angry, don't get too sad--stay strong, stay a man. A killer of sheep is the result: someone who goes through life, a somewhat depressing life full of no excitement, without standing too firmly in any given situation. The camera and script drift lazily, finding new scenes to try and understand this man. He will not make a show of himself in any one instance; the whole of this existence must be consumed, digested before we can have an accurate picture of him. Reality washes over him because he must be strong and vaguely indifferent--moments of life pass over his face, but the continuous struggles of life have clearly taken their toll.

Continuously we are taken back to the slaughterhouse, the kids making a fort and certain set events in the life of the community. These never, qualitatively, change throughout the progression of the film. We are to understand that his life will not ever progress beyond here: there will always be new engines to fall off cars, always be the white woman flirting with him behind the counter. These are part of the life, part of the territory. They define the neighborhood, for good or for ill.

Curiously, the title(while perhaps an allusion to Chicago), is perhaps a direct comparison with Abraham's killing of the ram(male sheep) after being ordered by God to do so(in lieu of Isaac). Functionally, if one accepts this, the film would be positioning the critique of the conditions on the older generation, teaching inconsistent values. One cannot be strong and silent--it mocks reason when living in these conditions. Although, overall, this is not an attack on religion, there might be a critique of unnecessary, and illogical, patriarchal tendencies in communities.

Spike Lee, in his excellent film Do The Right Thing, takes these tropes and turns them on their heads. Killer of Sheep, for all its strengths, does not consider the racism, arguably inherent, in the life the characters lead. It focuses, unlike most films, squarely on events rather than their implications. In this sense, it is a very atypical film. One to be admired for its interesting look at life and, more importantly, the style it uses to argue its point: the lazy look of the protagonist, dissatisfied with creativity(or fecundity) has given up on his life. The movie seems to as well.

The Postman Always Rings Twice - 1946

2008-09-28T01:29:00.003-04:00

An exceptional piece of genre cinema. It is ensnared too much by its placement in time--a femme fatale, while being a trope of a character, still should never say "ha!". Something is amiss when that occurs. This is, however, the main weakness of the film: how it excessively overstates a point to the point of irrelevance. Consider the ending: the scene might have played out with his foot itching for a new place to go, new faces. Rather, we are stuck with a priest and a lawyer on death row while our hero spouts on about melodramatic points. The movie has a very, very sinister streak in that either end of the product seems destined to ignore. It wants too hard to explain a point, wants too much to present things flat out without letting us delve into the characters. While, perhaps, indicative of an era, it is important to note here due to the advent of the noir-type. Turning, later, as showing(obtusely) a disillusionment with America, here it seems far too willing to remind the viewer what is right and what is acceptable. We're being led like children around. So, while perhaps the movie is compelling for some reasons--it manages to have bastards as the main characters and it has multiple arcs--its unwillingness to delve deeper without exposition forces it into a kitschy position. Which is unfortunate.

Winter Light - 1962

2008-09-22T22:00:00.002-04:00

Ostensibly a dialogue on faith, there does not seem to be a particular amount of depth to this film. There is the obligatory dialogue on the "silence of God" and, of course, we see how this makes belief difficult, but this does not shed any light, particularly, on why people do have faith. The unbeliever is shown as going through the motions of existence, stoically assisting in life and death scenarios simply out of an abstract notion of duty(an additional critique of Deontological systems?--perhaps). Without a guiding influence there is no purpose for their movement, for their actions(this is what the characters think, anyways).

I did not think, though, that there was an attempt at understanding the inherent irony of film-making: even if you don't believe in God, the world of art(cinema, perhaps most of all) enjoys a creator who fashions situations for life to play out in. Does art, then provide purpose for existence?--it provides a framework for existence, giving life to other "meaningless" actions(writing, or reciting, would be conveyed meaning by the act of the individual living through it).

This film, arguably, is part of Bergman's earlier tradition: later, in more expressive and mature pieces such as Persona he argues against this line of thinking. Art as mockery, art as something which exists foreign to reality. However, as it stands here, Winter Light is an interesting look at the loss of faith one might suffer from the "silence of God". It is not a persuasive film for its specific point but it manages to create scenes which memorably depict its points: if nothing else, it is a success in regards to the mise-en-scene.

Criticizng the Critics

2008-09-19T21:22:00.002-04:00

http://movies.msn.com/movies/moviesfeature/dvd/critics/?GT1=28101

Despite the title, I think this this more of a direct--and fairly well intentioned--attack against bloggers. There is something to be said about the myriad opinions out there(irrespective of your own views, The Dark Knight was considerably better received at IMDB than by professional critics: A.O. Scott and the like). The rampant nature of the Internet allows individuals to choose where they get their 'real' opinions from: they are not held sway by magazines or newspapers. If nothing else, it was an interesting read.

If, however, one wishes an informed view of cinema(with some Village Voice flair along the way) then this is worth reading: http://www.villagevoice.com/2008-09-17/news/what-we-learned-about-the-election-at-the-movies-this-summer/

Real criticism does not view the film in a vacuum.

Taxi Driver - Followup

2008-09-14T00:30:00.003-04:00

Taxi Driver ends curiously: Travis(Robert DeNiro) stares into the rear view mirror while the music screeches awkwardly and then he adjusts it. His descent into hell might have saved Iris(Jodie Foster) but he died in the process(I'd argue, anyways). He has "become his job" of the cinematic hero, Ethan from The Searchers or Shane from Shane. This has not necessarily forgiven what he has done, but it has provided meaning to his life--the reflection in the mirror beckons, knowing what he could have been without changing. Cinema, despite Travis not watching movies, has given some purpose, desire to his life beyond absurd notions like romancing a woman outside his reach.

Scorsese, while recognizing the absurd notions within films like The Searchers(this is also explored in earlier Scorsese projects such as Who's That Knocking at My Door), points out their ability to influence and mold people. Media, even casually for individuals such as Travis, changes their life and makes them into other people. "Changes their life" makes it seem so romantic--as discussed before, this mostly pertains to how media shapes people and defines them. The ending of this movie reinforces this--Travis glances back oddly, the quasi-diegetic music rolls off-kilter and then we are left with the taxis stretching for miles. There are many people that movies fill their lives(perhaps even me?). Scorsese points out and considers their effects: the conclusion is mixed and curious at times, but Travis could have done differently. There is someone else through the looking glass.

Ju Dou - 1991

2008-09-13T10:59:00.000-04:00

Sinister La Strada: the old man(Li Wei) buys himself a wife(Gong Li) so he can have a male child, 'to continue the bloodline for all time'. The banning of this movie seems self-evident enough(the Chinese government is wise to note the overt critique of Confucianism and patriarchy). However, what is curious is that Zhang Yimou(the director) would make these critiques here, alongside his another film Raise the Red Lantern yet still direct the opening and closing ceremonies of the 2008 Olympics. Did his critiques exist in a vacuum? He is quoted as saying, roughly, about the Olympics that he he is proud of China and everything it has achieved through the ages--at what point is he distanced from his own works which seem so foreign to that mindset. The old man might have passed on in a vat of red dye, but it seems past has colored itself differently with this film(and others like it). It is worth considering, then, that this film and Raise the Red Lantern might not be as 'serious' as critiques as once thought(authorial intent is beside the point here--there is room for both, I think, and I'm taking one approach at the moment).

The films are akin to one another in the vein of Ozu's season films: the old man and the young peasant bride are constants while other circumstances change. The old man, in Ju Dou might be overtly sinister--almost comically villainous at times--he has a more rational outlook towards the future, making plans while the lovers(perhaps rightly) relish their time together. He has been raised this way, it is all he has. This is not to excuse his behavior but, rather, to contextualize it: there is a reason his son comes to him in the beginning. History and custom march over people and it is not necessarily evil for that to be the case even if that leads towards ironically dumb scenes(such as the funeral procession--it seems absurd). Ju Dou might have an evil man in it, but it might be said that it's because he doesn't know better. Given tim, cultural changes will slightly alter his disregard for individual life(consider China now). This seems more reasonable given the director's statements and the over the top nature of the old man's character.

Raise the Red Lantern, while still possessing evil tendencies, managed to make their old man more palatable--he only lashed out at women for supposed adultery. They must stay true to the guiding principle of monogamy, on their part, which he wishes. Now, it is perfectly understandable to view him as having a double standard--and the movie certainly wants one to--but it's arguable that, despite this, he has still managed to help the people. Consider: if he is the state of China, then he has brought people out of poverty and cared for them. Perhaps his methods are oppressive at times, archaic and cruel, but they managed to do this despite that. It's a measure of taking the bad with the good. In the early 90's, before China had the absurd growth that it does today, the notion was that the bad clearly outweighed the good. Social pressures, internal and external, have morphed these "old men" from what they once were, clear authoritarians, into something else. Amorphously, they accept and reject the individuality their subjects hold so dear.

Ju Dou and Raise the Red Lantern perhaps are not so harsh of critiques: they acknowledge the sins of the past while setting forth somewhat odd, and often dubious, courses for the future. Individuality is coming and the old men are dying off--China changes in spurts and snorts. The death of the donkey(peasantry) underlines the point: the dynasties that rule will fall apart but the history will not.

The Deer Hunter - 1978

2008-09-07T14:00:00.002-04:00

War as a game, a random game with logic for who lives and who dies: plainly stated, this is the 'purpose' of the film(we, those that would fight, are just deer, to be chewed and spit out for amusement alone). This seems clear. It's arguably too explicitly stated, to the point where the film becomes as a preacher. The reason this is a good movie, despite its curious appeals to reality(archival footage) coupled with un-reality(Russian roulette games), is that it gives particular attention to life outside Vietnam.

Often, a film will showcase life inside a situation(war, what have you) and ask the audience to construct their own ideal life outside of that. The characters, then, are somehow estranged from this goodness, or life, that is beyond them. The Deer Hunter does not show a perfect life, and hell if I know whether it reflects Russian immigrants life by a steel mill, but it cares to show that the characters are not 'Buzz' or 'Reef' who only live and die in a steamy hell away from those they care about. The structure of the movie, showing before, during and after the war, manages to show rounder individuals, people that might exist in reality rather than the abstracted(though still powerful) types one sees in films like Apocalypse Now. Individuals change due to the war, rather than the film needing alterations as it progresses. In this sense, The Deer Hunter is a good movie which is, oddly, somehow unique alongside other Vietnam war movies.

There is, in addition, an implicit attack on the economic side of war, it is wrong that Nick(Christopher Walken) can make more money than his steel mill workers doing something like Russian Roulette. They are providing a serious function to the country, war or simply construction, and it begs at what point their sacrifice will be taken seriously. A soldier puts their life on the line, whether through the draft or not, and they don't get paid nearly enough for that--their life or death is beyond their control, in "God's" hands, one might say, like Russian Roulette. There is no compensation, theoretical or practical, that could possibly pay for that sacrifice(even if you want to claim Vietnam was an unjust war, what the soldiers went through was certainly not easy, or fair). The Deer Hunter is a movie, ostensibly, about a disregard for working class sacrifice: they, despite being claimed to be the 'silent majority', never got a voice during, or after, the war.

The Godfather Part 3 - 1990

2008-09-01T14:17:00.004-04:00

This is an interesting film in one sense: to see how the same themes and ideas can be corrupted and made inane simply by telling them differently. Rather than with some degree of subtlety and sophistication, they are explicitly stated in monologues with dire, and dull, platitudes. The movie insults you for being a fan, for caring about consistent characters. Why the hell should you bother that Michael(Al Pacino) always drew in his anger about being forced into the family?--the movie has him yell lines at the camera as if you're a dumb viewer. I cannot believe the level of stupidity in this movie. One of the worst I've seen, outside of films known to be bad(Slither, etc), in quite some time. Shame on the legacy and cinematic practices in general.

Edward Scissorhands - 1990

2008-08-30T21:26:00.002-04:00

Updating Frankenstein, the movie(not the novel), has been done curiously. Burton changes the original intention: it's no longer a madman trying to play God but someone who wants to create life and love. This is a major, curious, change from the source, inspirational, material. Burton's films are infused with a level of bright darkness: a look into the Gothic with friendly butterflies dancing in tow. Clever re-imaginations of childhood fairy tales and the such are nice, but it would perhaps be more interesting if Burton could manage to not move one trope into another(the monster killing master into 'monster' loving the girl--in a sense, Frankenstein to Beauty and the Beast). This is not to say Burton is a bad film maker but, rather, that his sensibilities lie in cliches and redefining them. There is a limit to this, and I'm not sure if he has learned when to say 'when'. Eventually love for the underdog, dressed in stylish Vincent Price leather, will become a bit boring: do his films exist outside of this? I tend to think their substantive depth is lower than what he could, or wants, to do(Ed Wood and Big Fish are proof of the compassion that most Burton films strive for).

The Godfather & The Godfather 2 - 1972, 1974

2008-08-26T20:56:00.007-04:00

The Godfather positions itself has an epic for crime: a disambiguation of motives and causes for a most venerated of American film types. Mob films have always had sway, from Cagney to Bogart and reaching their (arguable) pinnacle with Scorsese and this series of films. Justification has been given to violence, that there is an inherent love for blood seen splattered across the screen. I do not think so lowly of the audience. The success of The Godfather is due to its humanistic portrayal of otherwise sordid characters; the re-evaluation and updating of classic characters, such as the gangsters Cagney once dominated, leads to and epic undertaking. Its cinematic success lies in craft and subtext, human consideration and painstaking attention to detail.

The film opens by fading slowly from complete darkness to showing Don Corleone(Marlon Brando) listening to a man plead his case. To be developed in the first two movies in the series, the focus is the differences between this way, of dealing with the people he has power over, rather than extorting them for money(the contrast is explicitly stated in The Godfather 2 by having Vito(Robert DeNiro) act differently than Don Ciccio(Giuseppe Sillato). With power comes responsibility to those around you: family and those that back you come first, then come others.

Politically, the import is that this organization, while not hurting anyone outside 'the group'(those associated with the mob) is getting attention from congress while the corruption of Nixon, and the escalating violence in Vietnam, was afforded so much leeway. Textually, the invocation of war is made in the plans for Michael to become a senator(how war would be glamorous for such a position). Violence and corruption are necessarily sinister things and, curiously, are absent without cause from the mobsters; perhaps they are criminals, but they play by acceptable rules compared to the government.

Coppola is certainly not making a case of moral relativism: the depiction of Michael at the end of The Godfather 2 makes explicit that he does not want to be there. Deciding who lives and, more importantly, who dies, is an understandable reason for what Vito did, but nobody should have that power(perhaps God, since it is constantly invoked with the more gruesome of attacks). Although the gangsters, in the Hollywood tradition of humanization and (faux)exploitation, are given a degree of psychology which other people lack, there is the understood reason that they're doing it for family; even if it is wrong, it is a better and more sincere, than what is told to the public during the Vietnam era. Coppola's films from this era, The Conversation and, more famously, Apocalypse Now are infused with a (relatively) humanistic consideration that is apart from the institutions they are part of(consider this alongside David Simon's The Wire: the failure is not necessarily the person, but the 'job/role' they are in). Wrong is wrong, and power creates ample opportunities for good reasons to be cynically distorted.

Paper Moon - 1973

2008-08-16T17:50:00.002-04:00

Of course, the film is sentimental to a fault. a 'Paper Moon', facade as it might be, is better than having anything at all--the little girl, in the end, cries for $200, but it is affection and mutual love that draws them together. Bogdanovich is not prone to such things by degree--The Last Picture Show dwells on the loss of love rather than the reclamation thereof--so there, one might hope, be specific functionality for this in the movie(other than, obviously, being amusing in its own right). I doubt that Bogdanovich is claiming that truth is a non-existent and irrelevant point: Watergate was in less than a year, so that would seemingly undermine the picture's point in of itself. Rather, I think, the focus is on the unstated bonds that can grow between people should they come into contact with one another long enough. It does not matter, necessarily, who Addie's father is, so long as he is a loving man that gets her through life(the body, direct relation, is not of prime concern). A facade, if kind and gentle, is better than nothing(again, I doubt this should be taken to the logical, Orwellian extreme--after all, the movie would become non-sensible and, frankly, stupid).

Tropic Thunder - 2008

2008-08-15T14:55:00.003-04:00

The satirical edges of this film are overplayed--it is a comedy with moments of attacks directed towards films as a whole. It seems to me that critics have overplayed this nature of the film to justify their enjoyment of panda killing. Of course, Stiller did mean for there to be elements of satire, but it seems a stretch to consider this a 'damning' criticism of the industry, or any number of things I have read. The satire seems, at times, tangential to what is going on--ever present, but rarely the focus between any number of other jokes.

There is one element of focus, however, where the film does rest its ire: on authors(directors and actors, too) who falsely suppose they can relate to a given situation. Whether this is Simple Jack or the Vietnam vet who never went to Vietnam. Given the time this film premiered, and that the focus thereof, one might easily conclude that this is an attack, while certainly on artists and such, but focusing on media depictions of war(focusing, instead of on hardships of battle, but on our ability to relate to these individuals). Without being there, actually experiencing it, there is no method one can effectively 'deal with it'. This critique has some merit, but should not be pursued too far--after all, all works of fiction never happened, so it would seemingly moot every one.

Perhaps the film's greatest strength was it ending in a parallel to the faux-movie at the beginning: by re-doing those scenes within the movie within a movie within a movie, Stiller makes his own film a product. That the film had to follow this methodology, even as a satire, is the best joke of them all: movies made through this system suck so much, they cannot deal with anything seriously. Satire can't even satirize it, because a happy ending with cliche dialogue simply must happen.

The Dark Knight - 2008

2008-08-14T14:59:00.003-04:00

Under the darkness, there is the oft-alluded to 'war on terror'. Whether it is the overt--The Joker is called a terrorist, Batman's use of extralegal 'torture' and wireless interception--or the subtle invocation of images(such as Batman standing akin to Bush over a flaming building), the undercurrent seeks to invoke a mood from the audience. The movie appeals to these images to argue, what seems, for the methodology of the current government: we must adopt certain tactics to defeat these dangerous enemies(at here or abroad--literally, invoked through the excursion to China). This is not to say we become them--painfully stated throughout the whole of it--but there are methods which, although seemingly sinister(such as eavesdropping on calls) are the only way to defeat this new threat. Scarecrow, from the last movie, fought by an understandable, if not crazy, strategy; The Joker is pure evil, in contrast, and exists for anarchy.

However, the painting of the villain in these sheer tones has consequences metaphorically. If we are to represent terrorists, our current enemies via this war, as insane individuals with, literally, no motives other than curiosities for the audience, then it, implicitly, makes a propagandist argument to the audience. I am not asking for nuance(a movie might disregard that fairly), but there comes a point when the invocation of images and themes might be done without respect to their depth. Simplistic labeling is often justified under the pretenses of 'comic book' films, but with so clear a relation to reality, there comes a point when one must simply say: no, you are flattening the difficult relationship of terrorists and what they do(not) want in the world today. Far be it from me to say this, but rash judgments and weak justifications have caused many political problems.

As a defense of extra legality, the movie works poorly--and Chris Nolan is not so well suited to action. Perhaps, most damningly, the movie sets itself up for a redemptive third act, where Batman's actions beyond the law might be redeemed. Are we wrong about our current President?--I'm sure, painted with muted tones and ringing allegory, the next movie will tell me why the current mess is the public problem.

Apology

2008-08-04T13:05:00.001-04:00

I planned on updating more frequently, but The Wire proved to be too awesome. Movies are taking a bump for a little bit it seems. Never fret, noble reader, because I have a large, and hopefully good, post in the works.

Gotham: Dark Knight - 2008

2008-07-30T16:19:00.002-04:00

Hoping to cash in on The Dark Knight, an animated feature--straight to DVD--seems like a good idea. 'Expanding the mythos', one might say, allows for character development that, overall, would make concepts more appealing. Unfortunately, in this respect, the short films are a disappointment: offering little more than knee jerk emotions(and some really terrible, overly stylized anime-faces), I cannot help but think this was not a concern. There's nothing more here than a slight expansion that could easily be found on any given fan-fiction site. This, however, does not seem the focus. Action, or, more broadly, having 'the bat' fight some interesting foes seemed the purpose. In this the film is adequate, providing the usual jumping and leaping that any superhero is bound to do nowadays. There is no serious threat from anyone, because the shorts exist as a link(product) between the more serious works by Chris Nolan. This is a shame: there is talent here, but it took a backburner to what appears mostly as a cash item.

The first section, 'Have I got a story to tell you', encapsulates the film's purpose: animators from across the world conceive of new adventures for Batman and add their own flair as they see fit. They can carve new chapters, creating relevance where it has been lost over time. At once a pat on the back, it serves to show that even if the times change, there is always a 'need' for these heroes.

28 Weeks Later - 2007

2008-07-25T13:03:00.003-04:00

This is a profoundly stupid movie. Simple questions cannot be answered: why, a state of emergency dealing with infection, were all civilians kept locked in a dark room with no protection? Why have a door to it unlocked and unguarded? Why start repopulating a country while you're still cleaning out the city two blocks away? Shouldn't quarantined areas be off limits to a building supervisor? But, hell, who cares about that, violence is the cream of the crop, the reason I should care. I would allow this to follow--of course, the violence for its own sake is stupid and not entertaining--but this movie has the pretension to raise its sights, to try and target easy foes(the Iraq war) while being very, very dumb.

Suggesting, as the film does, comparisons between the crisis of zombies and the Iraq war(they refer to safe place for civilians as "the green zone") is odd. One might quibble over the Iraq war, but it is difficult to assume that out intentions there were as kindly as those Americans in the film. Additionally, if one takes the comparison further, it is appalling to think that commanders have somehow advocated the behavior in this movie. Killing civilians indiscriminately does happen, but it is not ordered from on high, first of all, or carried out on such a scale. I hate to defend America or anything, but we haven't systematically killed hundreds of civilians like that in this war(accidents--or what might be called accidents--do happen, but there is a far cry).

Curiously, the film suggests that the only way to contain a crisis(in contrast to the above sentiments) is total extermination. Consider the ending: our 'hero' has escaped Britain, infected, and then we are given a shot of Paris falling to the virus. What does this inform to the audience, given the undertones of Iraq? Kill everyone, children included, so that the "virus" does not spread? The metaphorical weight, and seriousness of this, should not be looked lightly upon; it is a shame the movie is so dumb about issues as heavy as killing civilians for the 'better good'. This is exploitation with a message, a dangerous combination.

Diary of the Dead - 2007

2008-07-23T12:21:00.004-04:00

The thrust of the film, sans-zombies, is that blogs and youtube--the wealth of media available--have disabled the capability to disseminate the truth from simply spin. This is not a bold statement by any means. One need only look at the Iraq war, certainly something with underpinnings in this movie, to understand that. And, indeed, multiple venues of information(innumerable blogs and the like) have given 'truth outlets' life. That is, if you don't like this blog, find another--it will have the film appreciation(or lack thereof) that you want. Your tastes, as a wily consumer, dictate the truth you so wish to ingest(of course, there that joke of consumerism rampant in Romero's films that people are so quick to become zombies when given the chance). However, despite me agreeing in principle with many of the points within this film, I consider it a lackluster approach to those subjects. Romero is not prone to subtlety, but some of the moves he makes within this film make me balk, which is something in of itself.

Must monster films make their points overtly? Stephen King has argued that horror(and, by extension, monster films) function inherently as allegory. This is to say that the themes might not be fully dynamic, perhaps a character or two(or three...), will be archetypes and exist as flat ideas throughout the text(or film). This argument has some weight, and it would offer a defense of this Romero film. Nobody really changes in this movie, which is clear enough. It gets its points across, for what it's worth, and I cannot be too harsh. In response to King, I should say that even if texts tend towards this--allegory--this is by no means a call to lazy writing. Romero might be playing games with this though, and that is worth considering as a meta-joke within a joke.

Romero, as the 'father' of the zombie genre, understands full well the character types that exist within zombie films(the hot chick, the guy who gets bit, the survivalist, etc). It is arguable that the inclusion of these characters, alongside the media engulfed manner they dwell, is to claim that inside such an environment(media swelling) there can be no escape from these archetypes. That is, inside of the bubble, there can only be stories involving the mummy exposing a woman's breasts. This is a symptom of media(culture) love. Blogs, Youtube and 24 hour news are an end result, and not a cause in of themselves. A consumer(zombie, as it were) culture seeks these things out, and it is a necessary condition of its existence. This is Romero's argument. That is why it exists outside his 'dead' series--it is a new beginning, hopefully one that escapes the trappings of a consumer culture.

In addition, and purely in an abstract, theoretical sort of way, I passively object to the notion of the truth. This assumes that there is a necessarily better(more functional) method of describing any given event. There are misleading manners in which events can be described--and perhaps this is what Romero is discussing--but there is no necessarily true method for which an event can be detailed. If it were this way, after all, art would be pointless in many ways; Romero, for what it's worth, certainly wouldn't want that.

Mononoke-hime(Princess Mononoke) - 1997

2008-07-22T12:25:00.003-04:00

The film paints in broad strokes, yet there is subtlety that beguiles too easy of comments. Miyazaki normally places nature as a good in of itself, something superior to the mechanical land humans inhabit. However, here, this is not the case. Both nature and machines have their extremes and excesses--this should be clear enough. Yes, favoritism between the two exists, Lady Eboshi(Yûko Tanaka) is 'more evil' than Ashitaka(Yôji Matsuda). The film critiques not so much their existence, but the manner in which the emperor demands tribute. The two separate kings, the Deer God and the unseen emperor, demand tribute in different manners. There, in how they deal with their subjects, is where the 'message' of the film lies.

The Deer God, even with the power of life and death, is content to let the world run its own course--until tried to be killed, it did nothing except live its life. The emperor, though, saw fit that he must possess the head of the deer god(by extension, hold power of life and death over his subjects). Miyazaki--perhaps too reverently in an appeal to the divine--lends this power as something humans should never happen. Nature, people too, must find a way to live together without killing the other. The emperor would not want this; iron must be forged for his armies and (animal) gods must be slain so that his empire might spread. Everything else is of little consequence.

Critiquing governments is nothing new in Miyazaki's works. Porco Rosso, Nausicaä, Castle in the Sky and Howl's Moving Castle all prominently feature teens(for the most part) developing against a background of governmental corruption. Specifically, I like to think of this critique as Miyazaki, broadly, saying that the old ways of Japan(those embodied from World War 2) lead towards diabolical ends. The next generation, seeing what 'good' came from it, will take a different, more spiritual, path away from it. Princess Mononoke exemplifies these traits, and is perhaps the best of Miyazaki's films.

Hormigas en la boca(Ants in the Mouth) - 2005

2008-07-21T13:06:00.003-04:00

A slightly above average entry for a film noir. The gangster turned politician is not uncommon, and interesting to see in a film centered on fascism and communism(Franco and Castro, respectively). While perhaps not overly special in those regards, there are some interesting sections of the film worth discussing.

The insistence upon who eats the proverbial 'dogs' first, who will go the furthest to win, is ever present. Curiously, in the end, neither character(the 'hero' or villain) go all the way to achieve their ends. Noir, generally, ends with death brought to one by the other; not so in this case(death still occurs, but brought on by different hands). This implies the same bleak vision of noir, but the situation is shifted towards revolution rather than the evil of one individual. Like Pan's Labyrinth, the audience is given the ability of hindsight(history) to know that Castro's new government did not magically get rid of all corruption. In the face of revolution, something outside the personal ambitions of the characters, only death can face their ideas. This is the source of the bleak vision of the film; it is rather well done, I might add.

'Ants in the mouth' alludes towards how the characters, Martín(Eduard Fernández) and Freddy(Jorge Perugorría), use other people as ants to cover up their own ambition. Martín seeks revolution in Spain while Freddy seeks, while never stated, to keep himself and those he cares about('friends of the family') in power. They use others, as ants before their ambition, to justify their own actions. In the end, as described above, this is shown to be hollow. It results in a void of ideals, a void of their own desires. While not the same, they are perhaps two sides of a disjointed coin. Like any noir, this must be the case. Towards that, the film is a solid example of genre fiction. Nothing terribly special, but not worth forgetting either.

The Brave One - 2007

2008-07-21T10:23:00.003-04:00

Glancing at the poster now, I find it laughable that the film considers the notion of right and wrong to be embedded within it. Despite striving for higher goals than Death Wish and the like, it stinks of the same outlandish moral code. Erica(Jodie Foster) is not a 'brave one' in any sense of the term, and exists as exploitation and violence-baiting in a post-9-11 world. She is a fantasy for diabolical parts of the audience, and it is disturbing to think the movie has defenders on this ground.

The crime itself, when she is beaten nearly to death, is videotaped and played throughout later on. This struck me initially as an acknowledgement that, nowadays, any random act of good(or evil) can be transmitted throughout the world as media. This changed as the film progressed--Eric re-sees the violence, and this provokes her into the final slaughter. The violence that happened in the Stranger's Gate was supposed to seem random, nobody could predict it and only the criminals were accountable(even a German Sheppard, long standing symbol for Nazis, was treated as a pup). The attack was filmed and savored, a blood hungry group lapped up the carnage. This was not an attack on American media(where it would be probably valid) but showing that if something like this happens, and people willingly can move back into violence to re-live it, the victims of it, too, cannot escape those images. This, then, gives them a right to try and exorcise those demons. The movie works with that logic and moves to some strongly endorsed, but crazy, moral codes.

The movie seems bent on making a 9-11 comparison. (Am)Erica, our hero, is angered to see that her city, the one that she has grown up with and loved, is being destroyed by the violence it has suffered. It is a recent phenomenon, she never saw it coming. When she is attacked, she becomes an avenging angel that will hunt you down to the ends of the earth. This is troubling because the law is supposed to see this as right(what about if you're wrong?), that they assist(what about fairness?, staring into the abyss helps nobody) and that this behavior is abstracted into melodramatic terms(the world does not work like this). An innocent, from suffering a random act of violence, is not somehow granted the ability to do anything so to 'solve' that problem. Tying the film into justifying, by extension, torture and the war in Iraq seems disingenuous and morally bankrupt.

I see film critics defending this film on acting grounds. Is the actor and their prowess so easily removed from context? I should make a film with Anthony Hopkins where he strangles puppies for ten hours with critical aplomb--he is a damn fine actor, and I doubt the film could be anything but bad. Its moral weight, for what it is worth, would not be less than this film, because it would not sensationalize violence and, more importantly, patronize the audience into believing half-truths. This is a Grindhouse movie with worldly ambitions: Jodie Foster being in it changes nothing.

Must a film like The Ox-Bow Incident seem intelligent by comparison? Vigilante movies easily address there quandaries in melodramatic terms. The villains, since all of them display there perversions easily for the audience to digest, deserve to die. Nobody innocent is going to get hurt, only our hero suffers that fate. They are justified in anything(no accidents). Good and evil are at the end of a gun, luckily nobody is asked to think about it.

Hellboy 2 - 2008

2008-07-20T15:15:00.005-04:00

Is imagination all that matters? Is it enough that Guillermo Del Toro can place the fantastic on-screen while disregarding a cohesive(and caring) story? I do not think it is. If this were to be the case, films such as Sleepy Hollow and Star Wars would be entered as classics. There is merit to them, but they are devoid of meaning when one wonders at spectacle. There ought to be more to films than this. It is a shame superhero films so often follow this conventional pathway.

One sees the hinting towards a greater context, something beyond plant monsters and trolls. 'They do not want you', the elf prince quips. Must ever superhero be shunned by society yet to save it in the end? Perhaps Hellboy III will fix this, I cannot say, but it seems rather cliché and unnecessary. The film moves effortlessly between saying that humans are to blame for the state of the planet before showing the ultimate scientific abomination: an infinite weapon capable of restoring itself(the so-called Golden Army). This seems like a joke of sorts: perhaps all creatures really wish to rule the world, and some just tend to overlook their own shortcomings.

Interestingly, the movie seems to be fond of criticizing itself. I found this the highlight of the whole experience. A drunk song, the camera lazily shifting during (apparently) unneeded character development and the even smarmier Hellboy was a reinvigoration for the series. Hellboy, the first film, seemed unsure if it wanted to be 'serious' or not, this film has answered that with killer tooth fairies and talking cancer. Guillermo must have had a great deal of fun making this movie and have wanted the audience to feel the same way.

In the abstract, I am confounded by movies like this. Their art direction is superb, but their content seems overtly childish and wantonly stupid. Pan's Labyrinth proves he is an artist of a higher caliber(if I might be so bold) and the accepting of this project over hypothetical hundreds is worth considering. Fun has its own value, when placed in an acceptable context. So long as movies like this are not the whole of his career, I do not think one can be too harsh on Hellboy II. It's rather fun, the visuals are top notch, and many of the plot inconsistencies(why try and activate the Golden army now? Why have the baby/plant scene in the first place? Did we really need to know Hellboy will have twins?) are simply diversions.

Just don't love the movie too much, or think too hard(God forbid) and it is fine. However, don't put this as one of your favorites--stupid fun is all well and good, but this is no soma.

Into the Wild - 2007

2008-07-19T19:20:00.003-04:00

There is an issue that runs throughout films like this: at what point is deviating from reality a bad thing? In the abstract, it is nearly impossible to define a 'loss of truth' which makes the film questionable in its adherence to reality(certain philosophers, such as Baudrillard, would likely not care about this). However, it seems unreasonable to simply accept changes made without understanding what those changes might mean ultimately within the text. Since this is Sean Penn, it certainly feels like a duty.

Having it that the main character(our hero) is to have problems with his family supports the other more left leaning ideas in the film. Empowering that, Penn has made the difficulties more pronounced within his text. I suppose this is to simply make more pronounced the ideals that the movie has, that removing oneself from consumerism and moral abstraction, makes one a better individual. Showing the 'ends' which result from it--the sad marriage--promotes the director's vision. That was, and isn't, 'real' is a minor issue concerned with that. It makes, one might say, a better product.

There is no escape from having reality transposed to film from taking on meaning and message. However, I believe intentionally distorting that 'reality' to further one's own end(message) while still supposing the cover of truth(note the clichéd ending of the film, and tying the audience back unto the real world) is wrong. Ultimately, the conclusion is that, despite the movie perhaps offering insight into particular lives and decisions, Penn has taken it upon himself to distort and mislead people. Perhaps these are not huge changes, I concede that much. Still, allowing the life and death of someone to be fabricated towards a 'better' cinematic experience, whilst holding a guise of reality, is wrong.

Angels with Dirty Faces - 1938

2008-07-18T19:40:00.002-04:00

Old school melodrama. The priest is right, the gangsters are wrong, but yet the audience is tacked alongside hoodlums for the whole of the movie. Not that there are mixed messages, but one must wonder at the nature of films like this. The depression saps money out of the world, so we want to see the gangster fail--they need to suffer. Perhaps there is glamour in seeing their extravagant lifestyle onscreen, but it is destined to die like a dirty rat in the chair. Good that the state penitentiary has electricity, even if home does not.

Cagney is a dream. His acting is sublime in an otherwise laughable movie. He can move seamlessly between overtly hostile and subtly kind. The title, one might guess, refers to him, and he plays the role well. Impressive, to say the least. Bogart is taking lessons for the whole of his career. Melodramas don't change, but the principle faces do. It gives them no charm for a new clientele.

The 'hoodlums' themselves are more like The Little Rascals. Funny to be around, but was society really afraid of them? The real anti-characters like James Dean would take some time to enter full force into cinema. Perhaps this is why they had such impact, creating vast waves in the whole cinematic world? These guys are props to be moved around between gangster and God--equally deified through cinema, it seems--as pawns to see who is right. The audience is not challenged because they do not need to be challenged. Cagney gets what is coming to him, but that's the love of the movie--he reigns supreme onscreen, but when we leave to the real world there is comfort that his type will be dealt with. The dark is left behind.

Funny Games - 1997

2008-06-12T12:18:00.002-04:00

Funny Games plays a joke on multiple levels. Explicitly, the focus on breaking the "fourth wall" throughout the film speaks for itself. Making the film turn around the grim violence of the characters, thought, adds an additional wrinkle to the mix. It, in a sense, gives the viewer what they want. A horror film, by its understood nature, is to give violence and death as a comedy doles out jokes. The attack on viewer wants and desires hopes to undermine their sensibilities towards the genre as a whole. After a certain point, can one really be unaffected by the suffering that is received in this movie?--does the viewer not care for the implications of these movies? Unfortunately, and not necessarily the fault of Funny Games, I do not believe that this film solves the issues associated with movies of this kind. The critique is correct on Haneke's part, but I am not sure it is powerful enough.

As the movie makes plain, the ability for the viewer to move through time, to fast-forward and such, allows them to pick and choose which reality of film they wish. In this way, should I decide, I could simply move past the parts in the movie which I believe to be "preachy"(let us say, for instance, the crying scene and such). These are secondary to the true intent I wish for; namely, violence and mayhem. The "message" of the movie, then, might be ignored(or abstracted away from) if the viewer were so inclined. One might rationally enjoy the parts of the movie that Haneke wants to criticize(they are, after all, well staged and done appropriately). The movie gives one what it wants, so to speak. Funny Games does not try and convert anyone. Rather, it preaches to the ideas we already have. If one does not agree with the movie when they come in, it would not be possible for it have any effect. Ostensibly, it tells one what they want to hear, for good or for ill.

This is not to say that a movie is incapable of convincing one in the same medium. Funny Games stays true to the roots of horror conventions throughout. I agree with its conclusions, but it does not seem absurd that one could easily enjoy the movie just as another violent film about sadists. The argument to convince the viewer is not specifically strong. It might be correct, but there is little that the movie does to try and change opinions.

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull - 2008

2008-06-06T12:59:00.003-04:00

There are several unfortunate choices made that hurt this movie. Most importantly, it is the unnecessary characterization of the side characters. There is a great deal of emphasis on them but it amounts to little in the end. In a film like this, there is so little reason to care. It becomes even more challenging to raise your head when they change from scene to scene(are they a spy, a double agent?--who really gives a damn). This was not a serious problem in the other movies in the trilogy, or not so gross an issue, because there was the tendency to focus on other events(action, specifically) rather than the constant bleating of one-note buffoons.

The inclusion of special CGI effects hurts the film as well. I will not harp on the fact they look poorly done or even that they go against what fans were told prior to the release of the film. No, the problem with effects is that they undermine the film's aesthetic of plainness. That is, film serials benefited in the 'good old days' from having relatively cheap effects that passed off their ordinary heroes as great men(Commando Cody, all things considered, was just a man--not superhero). Adding in these CGI effects for something as profoundly stupid as monkeys--oh dear God...--makes the film foreign to itself. I appreciate its throwback mentality, but it would somehow seem better if the effects matched as well. Such grandness--the effects--I presume should be reserved for the Gods, not animals.

Things are not all bad though. The opening has a great action scene, and there is an inherent coolness of seeing Indy on screen once again. Still, I believe that Lucas(although not the director) should never be allowed movies again. He has some sort of evil touch. It turns everything into a mushy pile of latent nostalgia: at this point, I'm sick of his childhood dreams.

Jesus Camp - 2006

2008-06-01T15:27:00.003-04:00

This is a movie with good intentions gone awry. Its core tenants, that there is a religious movement that seeks to have control over government, seems a fair claim to make(it might be qualified to seem less evil, but that is the basics of it). Still, the characterization of that movement seems overstretched within this movie(read the Wikipedia article on this movie to see what I mean). Despite that, there are other issues that are worth considering alongside this movie.

Documentaries, with some exceptions, should let their images speak for themselves(I believe that idea is somehow ingrained within the term 'documentary'). If the point the director hopes to make--assuming there is a 'point'--is so strong, then they should be able to convey that message simply through the scenes presented. This is not the case with Jesus Camp. The painful editorializing within the film, the scenes where we are subjected to the Air America host discussing religion, undermines any attempt by this movie to be fair. This, coupled with some less than laudable editing practices, makes this film seem more an exercise in forcing a point down my throat than anything else. It seems the victim of the type of simplicity that the runners of 'Jesus Camp' supposedly are guilty of.

One might object though: is it necessary for a documentary to even try to be "objective"?--is such a thing even possible? Perhaps the documentary does not have to be necessarily objective, but the manner in which Jesus Camp presents its message weakens their overall point. It simply becomes an instance of liberals(with whom I agree) telling others that they are wrong because of religion. This is not a nuanced discussion of a movement or group. It reads like a pamphlet, and it's about that deep.

Super Mario Bros. - 1993

2008-06-01T15:14:00.004-04:00

Where to begin?

This movie manages to fail on nearly all conceivable levels. One might rationally think during it that the directors were intentionally making a bad movie. I mean, really?--the opening was terrible no matter which way you look at it. And the two aren't even fucking brothers! How did this manage to get past the Q&A guys? You have got to start thinking even if they were trying to do anything other than cash in on the Mario name brand. I am convinced that, of course, they just didn't care.

Obviously, there are some laugh out loud scenes in this pile of tripe. Bomb-ombs and other strange scenes just cannot help but be hilarious. In that sense, it is far better than one might think(it could have been worse). How much worse?--probably not too much.

Here's a new rule: if Luigi doesn't have a moustache and Mario cannot jump high, then this isn't a Mario movie.

Juno - 2007

2008-05-26T22:17:00.003-04:00

There is the urge, rising over time, to lash out against a movie like this. The dialogue is in sore need of an editor(lines like "Honest to blog" make my ears bleed). Internal consistency is lacking: how is Juno, such a witty and (apparently) smart person, so blind to high school social dynamics? Why does a movie that plays with wit at times go down the easy route so often within the movie?--everything just has to work out, doesn't it. And, of course, there is the grating feeling that this movie denies abortion simply due to its existence(funny how the movie shifts in personal tone at that moment). I certainly never understood the convenience store owner, either.

Still, it is somewhat difficult to get too riled up. The movie sets its sights low enough: a humor filled trek through normally dreadful straights. High School films, let us be honest, are normally dreadful affairs. This movie, actually, has a degree of pluck to it. Over praised, it very well may be, but a strong hand on my part would be rather silly. It does not cry wolf at every corner, and it manages to contain itself to a reasonable amount of time(also, and more importantly, it proves that geeks are cooler as protagonists than jocks ever could be).

I find myself saying a strange thing: if you are willing to understand that the movie has flaws, it is not terribly bad. Praise is over laden, but that is not the fault of the film(perhaps it is the dull cry from stung critics--maybe depressed films like No Country for Old Men have hurt them). It needed work, and perhaps its ethics are weird, but it’s not a terrible movie(despite how I might wish to say). Careful dialogue and good acting have saved an otherwise pile of tripe.

Tres Colores(Three Colors)

2008-05-18T20:43:00.002-04:00

Kieslowski wants to start with the abstract concepts, those of fraternity and justice, and move to specific examples that hope to show the difficulty of those concepts. I find this approach, however, to perhaps be self defeating. He wants to move from these concepts as if they were already set in stone. There is no ideal, out in the aether, of what each concept means individually. From this, one might object to the entire posturing of the film trilogy in of itself. However, that would perhaps be overly simplistic--I shall try and be more specific than that.

Throughout the films, there is the recurring image of the old woman trying to insert a bottle into a machine. Presumably, this is to recycle(maybe get some change too). Only in the final film, "Fraternity", does "our hero" go and help the woman. Through the journey of these films, Kieslowski wants us to think that we have become more moral individuals(consider, for reinforcing this, the inclusion of the other characters at the end of the final film. It hearkens back towards other events that we, as viewers, have understanding of). We, through this gifted art, have been granted a superior look to the world, rather than the simplistic abstractions that, previously, had held us at bay. I found this, to think that his films had so completely removed abstraction and added specificity(the removal of doubt for a more nuanced vision towards concepts), too easy. It seems an overly confident vision of his own art("Blue" certainly seemed engorged with the strength of individual artistry in the face of monumental issues).

The Mist - 2007

2008-05-01T13:08:00.004-04:00

Stephen King, for all his claims about pure entertainment, is awfully preachy. In a skewed sense, at that. He disguises pandering and weak arguments under the guise of pure satisfaction. In that sense, he is a charlatan. He writes for those that do not want to think, and his novel(las) reflect that.

I consider myself to be quite open minded about films of this type. After all, I would even consider "analyzing" something so stupid as your average Godzilla film. There is a value in it. However, when the writer would demean your practice as pointless, despite their own content, then it becomes outlandish. It would be beneath anyone to give King's work the satisfaction of thought. If one wants to make an Iraq war treatment, they very well can--it would be their time wasted.

Although this came before Silent Hill, it lacks any of the talent, mystique or dread the series, even the lesser one's, bring to the table. Inspiration it may well be, but I don't care.

There Will Be Blood - 2007

2008-04-10T14:30:00.002-04:00

This movie takes a departure from many western conventions. Namely, there is no bastion for good amongst the lot of them. The traveler or the town(the pastor, in this case) usually have some sort of merit that is being juxtaposed against the other. In this sense, the film is easily capable of making a moral/ethical claim one way or the other about the world. That Anderson abstains from this--in the end both are evil in their own special ways--is certainly worthy of consideration.

Anderson likely wishes to showcase the evils that hide beneath the surface of so-called 'decent people'(in this case, an oil baron that is rotten to the core and a preacher who seeks money rather than God). It is a lie that these archetypes have existed, and they should be showcased as such. The oil man, literally, rapes the land(he never really has a woman in the movie) and the preacher counts money like sheep in the fold. These are not necessarily new critiques, but they are done fairly evenly throughout the film. The current time period in which these attacks are made, though, lends additional weight to them. They are apt comments and one might say appeal towards a benevolent zeitgeist. In any case, Anderson wishes to remove conventions wherever possible(still, he does so poorly--taking the opposite of a given character is not necessarily depth, it just means you know what a negative is).

The movie is structured as having a series of scenes connected together. They are loose, and the divide between them is often jarring. Functionally, this is to suggest to the viewer that there is a lack of a whole(a constant) in either of these men's lives. That there is no fabric--strand, if you will--running throughout the text is indicative of this. They are dragged along in their search for certain things and nothing else matters(money is, after all, the greatest). The structure, then, of the movie, should be complimented on this level. Discordant themes reverberate in the background adding to the mood of inconsistency--these two are not men that think rightly.

Of course, in the end, it is difficult not to think of this as a not-too-subtle attack on the Iraq war(evil oil men battle evil religious types and duplicity abound!). This may very well be the case, and it would explain why it seems so popular in certain liberal circles. However, if that is what Anderson wanted, then I am forced to consider it a weak film. He sticks to weak characterizations to make his arguments, and manages to draw the movie out over an extended period of time. There is little development--this might be intentional, but it says little--and it seems as though the audience is expected to accept these men and their values as a constant. They cease to be characters: they are abstractions of values/claims made by others that Anderson wishes to vilify. In the end, though, his lack of exploring(or rightly considering) these values shows throughout.

That is not really shocking though. The story is originally from a novel Oil! by Upton Sinclair(of The Jungle fame). The latter book is marred by its preachiness and disregard for narrative/structure for its rhetorical point. It reads more like a (poor) manifesto than a novel. This idea seems transferred to this film as well. Perhaps it helps to highlight points and maybe even characterize those within it, but it devalues humans(those currently it refers to) as unchanging, static individuals. Despite its praise, this film is lacking in providing understanding--or, at the very least, context--for actions. It dwells in clichés, and remains mired in them throughout.

No Country for Old Men - 2007

2008-04-01T13:37:00.002-04:00

It is difficult to be sure exactly what this movie is about. On the one hand, it focuses a great deal of its time showing the brutality that Anton Chigurh(Javier Bardem) goes about inflicting upon his victims. One might deduce, however, that this is not 'what the movie is about': after all, it won an Oscar for best picture. Awards are, for what they are worth, representative of esteemed content that supposedly exists within a given text. For instance, Ernest Hemingway could not win a Pulitzer prize until he published the positive novel The Old Man and the Sea--despite other books by him being superior, an award so prestigious could not go to a negative book. The case is akin to this one, but there are additional wrinkles that complicate the matter. There is supposed merit in this movie that seeks to raise it above simply another movie, and that was why it won best picture. I dispute the movie on its premises of romanticism and disgust towards new films. This is a nostalgia flick in the worst possible meaning of the term.

There is a focus on three characters in the film. Of interest for my purposes was the Sheriff played by Tommy Lee Jones. He is representative of an older time period(if one is uncomfortable with just this one example, it is easy enough to extend it to include the comical grandmother and the two old drug men killed by Anton). To represent the past--a supposed innocence--Jones is given whimsical, wistful dialogue reminiscent of Fargo. In a film by the Coen brothers, the manner of speaking defines inner character. Jones is a good person, and he is tired of the world that he lives in(note how he has, practically speaking, more dialogue in the opening than in the whole movie--the new era of film has no place for him). He is a good person, and will do anything, unless blood lust is involved, to solve the problem. There is an air of Henry Fonda about him, as if he is the soul of good America.

Of course, to counteract such a good man, we are given the devil personified. This is all well and good(and I shall not complain about the level of violence. Although over the top, it shall be accepted as a main focus of the film). His 'newness', doubly understood by him being a relatively unknown actor and with his bizarre weapons, represents the callous hands of the new age. The myth of the old west is dead, and in its place are amoral monsters such as him. Although he might have his own code, it is one of abstraction that forgets individual humanity. We are to frown upon that. Of interest, too, is how the movie seems to idolize him at times(or, at the very least, might try to insist to the audience that he is cool). This is the Coen brothers mourning the passing of an age of characters like the Sheriff. Where once there was morality in the world, it has been usurped by people like Anton.

If their argument had been correct, than this would have been a good film. After all, movies possess a distinct quality to showcase multiple points of view well enough. However, their initial premise fails when actually looked at. They claim, through skewed examples in their film, that the west(or movies, more broadly) used to be in possession of a moral character embodied in the Sheriff character. This seems a dubious assumption. Film, often enough, represents the will of the audience--what they would like to see. Older films, with nicer individuals like the Sheriff, wanted to see such things. It in no way represented reality. Rather, it showcased what product wished to be consumed by the general public(this is true as a generalization). The same might be said about a film like No Country for Old Men. The audience, in this case the academy, would like to think that morality used to be a more potent thing in cinema--they would like to think that an age existed where things were better and simpler. To that end, this product was designed for those gripped with nostalgia. To claim that the past was somehow better, more moral, would be disingenuous to what it had(especially if this film is limited to westerns). There is a long history of shame ingrained in them, and this movie seems to gloss over it. It is not a call to thought, but a call to tacit acceptance of a skewed claim.

This movie was designed to win an Oscar. It is interesting to see some of the shock that it did that. The tone, timing and message all speak towards its intentions. Although one might claim it a success because it did win, it is better judged a failure. How, after all, is one to think of a movie that sells itself so blatantly, yet claims, through its textual themes, for an older, forgotten morality?

Raise the Red Lantern -1991

2008-03-07T21:59:00.001-05:00

The importance of the color red is of high importance within this film. Namely, it is associated with life(birth), death(the ear chopping) and, of course, certain lanterns. The fluidity of this image is at the heart of the film. Namely, that rules(or other constructs, such as ideas assigned to colors) are not intrinsically existent. Perhaps that is an awkward way of putting it, but I believe it shows the point. Despite the seeming necessity of following 'the rules' in Raise the Red Lantern, they are arbitrary(to the extent that all rules are arbitrary constructs, that is). There is no reason, on of itself, to believe that the claims from 'The Master' claim any higher authority than other rules in the world. That they hold sway simply because 'he says so' means nothing: it has no rigor behind it; there is no driving force, save for a room you might get killed in that is. I believe this movie excellently showcases this point. Its aesthetic is that of enclosure and defeat--it mirrors the messages that the narrative delivers. One could feel trapped by the numerous side passages and lantern coverings within the film. The castle seeks to consume people and digest them into something more palatable(a meat dish most likely, if I might make a reference to the film). There is no reason that it must be that way, however. The movie shows this, and does not seem to do so in an outlandish(overly melodramatic or stupid) fashion.

I cannot answer, or even begin to discuss, whether the movie is about China's political system. I claim relative ignorance on the subject. Perhaps I will come back to issue at a later date though. There is,

Zodiac - 2007

2008-03-02T21:41:00.004-05:00

It is interesting, on closer inspection, to see that the movie's tag line is "There's more than one way to lose your life to a killer." Is there not even a hint of irony that this is a close to three hour film about a serial killer? If this, indeed, supposed to be a bad thing(which, I suppose, is debatable), why does the movie take a macabre pleasure in the killing scenes? The slow motion blood splatter, the love Fincher has for 'tense' scenes, and simply the framing of shots suggests a love for this kind of Stygian hellscape. Fincher loves the dark, and he wants to put that onto the big screen. Isn't there a conflict of interest here? He wants to have it both ways: honor the trash roots that he came from whilst commenting on it. I think, in general, his works are a failure towards this end. Although it would be interesting to consider his films more seriously, they seem more amateurish than anything else. While competently made, his texts need to grow up.

After Hours - 1985

2008-02-26T20:37:00.003-05:00

I really liked this movie. The allusions to Kafka--think the bouncer, the cry in the street and that he ends up at work in the end--won me over from the start. I am a sucker for such things; it is best to be honest.

From an argumentative stance, one might gain insight into the film, and its criticism of human insanity(someone being accused of things they are not guilty of, for instance), by considering it in context next to The Last Temptation of Christ. That movie, prior to this one, had fallen through, and Scorsese could no longer work on it. Perhaps justifiably upset--he did go back to work on it later--there are jibes at nearly all aspects of life. All the guy wants to do is go home and experience life under his terms, rather than those being dictated by outside(insane) forces. He does not necessarily hate the other people, but their persecution of him is a tad outlandish(Scorsese's film, The Last Temptation of Christ, is quite tame, I think, in dealing with religious issues). This is, on retrospect, one line of considering the film.

I shall leave birth imagery alone and not consider it with the analysis. That is, well, a beast of its own. The film is intentionally obtuse at times, and things layer on top of one another to create additional confusion. As such, it is ripe for analysis. The above line of think is, I think, the most preferred, but there are other equally valid considerations(the discussion early on about Tropic of Cancer, it being a piss in the face to art, could easily be taken to be the 'point' of this movie). I will be sure to re watch this at some point, and it shall be quite nice to write about it years from now.

Little Miss Sunshine - 2006

2008-02-18T21:25:00.004-05:00

This movie is not particularly great. Its fame speaks for itself: there is a dark edge to its satirical bite. Understandably, this has drawn many into the fold. However, the weakness in this film lies a great deal with its own pretenses. It screams--through editing and marketing--that it is an indie(hip) film; this lures hapless individuals into praising it. Its content, though, is markedly different than that: it extols traditional values while hiding them amongst other content. In this sense, it is a false film. There is not anything about that seems normal: it was cast as something it is not(a comedy) and then is, apparently, one of the best films of 2006. Its weak comedic moments are only the most obvious of the problems--how can a film that attempts to show falseness through images exist when its very existence is that?

The Assassination of Jesse James by the coward Robert Ford - 2007

2008-02-13T16:08:00.002-05:00

'Moral Conviction' is an attribute handily associated with westerns. Their legacy is that of instruction: this is how people acted in the frontier; see how it applies to your life. I am, of course, speaking more so about older westerns(rather than, say, the Spaghetti westerns and other changes appearing later). Of interest is how this film does not really have a 'moral center' to it. While watching the film, I specifically tried to locate such a center in it. Perhaps that makes me a lousy critic--presupposing what the movie must have in it--but that is beside the point. The interest is not so much on presenting a character within the text that provides instruction, but a text that has 'moral conviction'. Its representation of obsession and idolization does hope to undermine normal westerns(and their legacy). The emphasis on coward within the film is certainly ironic: one need only look at the images with an open mind.

I was specifically intrigued by the opening train robbery in the film. It reminded me distinctly of a dark version of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Namely, how the two bank workers refused to go along with the robbery. Whereas in the older film(Sundance) it was a comical ordeal, the newer ends with Jesse James(Brad Pitt) bludgeoning someone over the head with his gun. It seems clear enough the intent: this is an anti-western through and through.

It is intriguing that 2007 saw a resurgence in westerns. Considering they were supposed to be dead since Unforgiven, I can only speculate why they have come back as of late. My gut would say it has something to do with the Iraq war, but I shall withhold making a further statement until later.

My published work

2008-02-11T11:46:00.000-05:00

http://www.popmatters.com/pm/features/article/51493/the-enemy-within/

I love this Godzilla movie.

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? - 1966

2008-02-10T22:05:00.000-05:00

Acting wise, this movie is (nearly) impeccable. It would seem difficult, I think, to criticize it. In any case, I have not seen anyone do so in a reasonable fashion. Therefore, it would seem, that the issue is best dropped.

What struck me about this movie is its (apparent) love affair between the 'games' that the characters play. Although they are obviously hurting one another--maybe 'Hump the Hostess doesn't--one, or at least me, cannot help but laugh at it. It seems quite funny, and I am little shocked at the somber tone taken in certain sections of the film. It seems, possibly, a criticism of the expectations that an audience member has. That is, we (as viewers) want something to happen, and it damn well better be something with some yelling in it. This, sadly, is a perhaps untainable ground. I cannot, off hand, think of anything that would support this in the film text. More likely, the film is not overly concerned with that line of thinking(after all, something does have to happen during a play). Illusion versus reality is its focus, perhaps not so much on the line between audience and participant. This bothers me; should we care about the characters when the 'games' are so much fun? At the very least, they are very interesting to hear(and Martha's scream is hilarious to a fault. Still, despite that, I am forced to say that this is a good movie. It would have been better if this issue, perhaps a seemingly convulated one, had been examined (briefly) in the film. But, hey, we cannot be too pleased now can we.

Updates

2008-02-02T12:58:00.000-05:00

Updates will be less frequent. Time has, unfortunatly, been taken up elsewhere. I hope to update at least once a week, but it might be difficult.

I apologize if this upsets anyone(though I doubt it does).

Hearts of Darkness - 1991

2008-01-17T19:02:00.000-05:00

One issue that, for whatever reason, was not overly prevalent within the film was the (relative) absurdity of them making a war film while a war was going on in the film. It was as if the relationship between war and people(and how it alters their mind) only mattered if it was filtered through an American perspective. Despite a literal war going on in the country, they chose to focus on something else(something which people would find, I assume, more palatable). This is not so much a criticism as an observation about filming, the artistic process and how it relates to the viewer. Is appreciation governed simply by degrees of association? Since I did not know the 'real' reasons the rebels were fighting the Philippine Government, does that mean I would not care? Does the abstract war in Apocalypse Now simply exist as a "higher" idea because it is a uniquely American(in its import) experience?

I should think the answers to most of those questions, unsurprisingly, is yes.

This is not to deny films like Ozu(of which I have almost no relationship, or point of reference, to understand their world). Rather, it is perhaps a roundabout way of criticizing how war, and its supporters/detractors go about focusing on things. The war becomes horrible by degrees--the closer to us, the more horrible it is(unless one takes a fanciful notion towards war and 'adopts' one as a pet project). To an extent, I think this movie does not fully 'live up' to its relationship between art and war. Although Coppola does, it seems, go a bit insane, he does not seem to realize that the film itself might be insane(for it what its process suggests to the audience).

Tôkyô boshoku(Tokyo Twilight) - 1957

2008-01-14T21:33:00.001-05:00

Ozu has a deep pessimism in this movie. I do not find it overly difficult to place, however. He, over the course of his movies, was concerned with the nature of the Japanese family. Although I am certainly no expert on the subject, I am perhaps qualified to critique the manner in which Ozu presents the decline in this film. It is centered, perhaps too obviously, on the loss of a(the) mother and the abortion by Akiko(Ineko Arima). It would seem, given the leanings of the film, that it was, in part, the fault of the mother for the untimely death of Akiko. This is, presumably, why some people have been critical of the film in the past(unless I am missing something).

However, the general tone of the movie does not affix blame that simply. Everyone, to some capacity, is "guilty"(though the film would not frame the discussion like that) for the death of Akiko. Some are too busy, some are not interested in having a happy(stable) marriage for their child. The father seems perhaps too heavy in his governance of the children(though perhaps that is an aspect of Japanese culture that does not translate well here). The mother, well, her reasons are never given for why she leaves--I will not judge, then, too harshly. Akiko's boyfriend is, to put it nicely, a dick. Simply, there is a general lack of 'community' that would foster happiness in the world. The family cannot help but fall apart because, as the film shows, the disparate elements are not inclined to working together.

The cause of that? I shall leave that question to someone more versed within Japanese culture(and the post-war era). Perhaps I have made a fool out of myself already, but I shall not do so any further.

There is an unremitting darkness about this movie that seems atypical of Ozu. I am not sure, to be honest, what to make of it. I feel compelled, in a certain sense, to jump on the film for its (seemingly) melodramatic handling of abortion and Akiko's death sequence. There is something to be said that her choice lead to her death--on the surface, it seems bad for Ozu. However, and one might disagree with me, Ozu's career points to him not making such a gaffe as this. I shall refrain full judgement until later.

But, if I shall never return to this point, I am skeptical, to say the least, of certain undercurrents within this movie.

Army of Shadows - 1969

2008-01-13T22:59:00.000-05:00

This film, more so than others, manages to show both sides of the war as brutal in their own ways. Of interest, to me anyways, is the contrast with The Grand Illusion(a Renoir film). In that, both sides of the the war(WW1) are shown to be (generally) nice people that are sucked into something far beyond themselves--they regret it, and humanity could triumph if they just got along. Army of Shadows is a little different--people are all the same, but they look out for their own interests, unfortunately, rather than anything else(the Nazis are sick in their own capacity). People are parts of 'causes' only because it serves their own life. Given a chance, as they are in the film, they will betray if it suits them. This is the titled "Army of Shadows"--while we might pledge allegiance in the light, there is a darkness that consumes all souls. You will run just a like a rabbit if given the chance.

Family Plot - 1976

2008-01-04T13:50:00.001-05:00

Of interest in this movie is how it screws with people. In all(or at least nearly all), when someone is looking for someone else, it is a portent for trouble. Not so much in this case. Good news would be given if only the 'missing heir' could be found--he's guilty of nothing. However, since this is a Hitch movie, everyone is so damn suspicious that problems just create themselves. Jewel thieves aside, people just do not trust one another.

And for good reasons I suppose: everyone in this movie is a liar. Whether there are actors playing society types, or society types acting--even a fake psychic--people just cannot resist playing fake within the world. And they seem to be having a good time with it. This twisted world, where people are somewhat untrustworthy of one another, is the last thing that the old master had to say to the world through film. The villains(and 'good guys') in this film look so ridiculous going about their work that one cannot help but laugh. It seems that Hitch wants us to think that way about other characters in his other works.

What to make of it? I think Hitchcock is, in some sense, undermining his one collective texts. similar stories. It is not as though he's saying, "Don't take my movies seriously", he's rather saying, "Some of my characters are neurotic liars, I hope you see that by now." In any case, the wink at the end of the movie(mirrored in the poster above), acknowledges the oddities within his film canon. He accepts it, and likely wants us to do the same.

First Blood(Rambo) - 1982

2008-01-03T12:20:00.001-05:00

While watching this movie, I was overcome with the feeling to try and interpret what the characters "stood for". Most action movies have undercurrents of politics in them. Due to this, close analysis usually reveals what they are "really about"(or, more likely, what weird ideas the director wants to present as being normal). So I started making little mental notes while watching First Blood that might help me later on during this post. Suffice to say, I cannot make heads or tails as to what this movie is "really about". At times Rambo(Sylvester Stallone) seems the Viet Cong, but then other times it seems like Sheriff Will Teasle(Brian Dennehy) and the town are the VC. It is perfectly possible, I think, to argue both sides simply due to how strangely structured this movie is. I will not make a personal stand one way or another. Simply put, I do not think there is any reason to do so. First Blood is, more likely, a movie exploiting angst about Vietnam and spicing it up with heavy doses of explosions(I suppose this implicitly supports war, but I will not dwell on it). It presents conflict in a palatable form, and seems aware of enough to give the image that it knows more than it lets on. In effect, this gives the impression that the film is smart when, as I should have known, it is not.

Curiously enough, if one(not me!), wanted to argue it, First Blood actually undercuts itself by having sequels. If it had existed on its own, the movie could have used its (silly)flashbacks and Rambo's silence to make him the textual heir to other war films before. People want that kind of mayhem against "evildoers", but not in their own backyard. Sadly, though, by having the numerous sequels(another is due this year!), First Blood diminishes itself into just a representative pop culture artifact. The 1980's were obsessed, it seems, with greasy muscle men--I do not know what to make of that curiosity.

Frenzy - 1972

2008-01-02T21:06:00.000-05:00

It is interesting for this movie to be Hitchcock's first with nudity. Shocking indeed--I think that's why everyone in the movie seems a bit sex crazed. It's almost as if Hitchcock, by having just a few breasts shown every now and again, realizes that a few people are going to go crazy over it. I consider this the old master screwing with people again. By having people so sex-obsessed in the movie, and him delivering, he's dealing a subtle blow to the establishment(or movies of the time) that were increasingly turning to cleavage to undercut their own failings. "Frenzy", then, becomes a very apt title to describe what he thinks the audience will be like(considered in conjunction with Hitch's view about audiences(Saboteur), it is interesting to see his development of ideas. Where once the audience didn't care what was onscreen--it's funny!--now people can't keep their hands, or clothes, off one another). Hitchcock is well aware of motion pictures and their powers, and this movie remains a testament to that.

I did not delve into other elements of this movie. For this, I apologize. The reason--and it's quite dull--is that I've seen the other discussions(food, for instance) in other places, and I try not to cover the same ground. Sometimes this is difficult to avoid, but I try my best nonetheless.

Marnie - 1964

2008-01-01T15:20:00.000-05:00

While not technically a 'bad' movie, I cannot help but think there is something amiss with this movie(spoken dialogue whole dreaming is, I think, a tad too melodramatic/stupid). The movie wishes to have Marnie('Tippi' Hedren) be a icy female presence--this is accomplished, but she becomes easily cured by simple Freudian analysis. The painful scene where Mark(Sean Connery) analyzes her is, at first, enjoyable due to Marnie being sarcastic and in charge. As it progresses, it becomes too blaze and standard to be interesting. Hitchcock should know better than to have characters be so simply changed. If childhood trauma is so serious, why is it so readily healed? The scars cannot, I should think, go away after so little treatment. It's a forced resolution, and detracts from the other qualities in the movie. This movie simply feels like Hitchcock wanting to do Vertigo again--there's something about the tone that suggests it in my mind. Sadly, there is not nearly as much depth here and, more damning, it falsely solves problems in a matter of moments. The old master is better than this.

Because, really, there is the ingrained notion within the movie that all Marnie needs is a good fucking. This is a bit odd really(but it explains Sean Connery appearing in the film). Hitch might want to route everything back to sex, but sometimes it becomes a bit strained. She's comfortable on horseback--away from men--and therefore, due the positioning of the film, there is something necessarily wrong with her. I find it difficult to explain, and I'm not calling misogyny, but there is a cruel undercurrent in this movie that seems to have leaked over from The Birds. Hitch didn't really like Hedren--I've read the feeling was mutual--and there's something twisted about this movie I cannot quite understand.

I did appreciate having both main characters, Marnie and Mark, both being sexually perverse. There's something to be said when one character is psychotic and the other rapes his wife--some of the Hitchcock magic lives on in this one. I am assured by a book about Hitchcock that Mark is supposed to be as sexually depraved as Marnie. This is fortunate to hear: I would hate to have him, a rapist, be a hero. Hitch can be quite twisted, but that would be beyond me. Perhaps I am overreacting, but I doubt it.

Inland Empire - 2006

2007-12-31T11:18:00.000-05:00

One issue, it seems, people have with Lynch movies is their multiple interpretations. Since they are, at heart, cinema based completely on images, it becomes more difficult(apparently) for people to have smaller interpretations. Things can 'mean' any number of things. The Rabbits, in this movie, really are in purgatory instead of being actors swallowed up by Hollywood. It becomes difficult to dislodge differing views because the movie is so obtuse. Lynch is not interested in solving his own puzzles, and certainly he likes hearing people feeling his movies in different ways. This is quite admirable. Due to the obvious craft of his movies, there does not seem anything wrong with his style of film-making(there would, I think, be something wrong if a hack hid behind the same things--somehow I would feel cheated). This is not to say that one cannot(or should not) interpret the movies; rather, I am simply conceding that different images and characters, due to the nature of the movie, are going to be not in unison. To each their own, I guess, so long as it is based on textual evidence.

This movie seems, at heart, a discussion of the role of artist to art and art-fan to art. Art transcends time and moves at its own pace into someones life. It cannot help but affect people on some level(whether impersonal or profound) and can even change the world around it. Art existing as its own--away from the world and existing for 'Arts sake'--does not, shall I say, accomplish much. One, perhaps, can experience it, but there is not necessarily any reason for doing so(major assumptions lie there, but what are you going to do). This current runs through Inland Empire(the nature of the director, for instance, implies aloofness from reality while he is engrossed within art; consider, too, how the actress gets lost from reality due to her being absorbed into art--something that does happen) and makes itself manifest in the end of the movie.

In the end, Laura Dern(the main character) saves the lost girl from the evils of 'The Phantom'. I like to think that Lynch is saying something like this: Art is all well and good, but it needs to somehow help people. It is not enough for Art to exist in a vacuum, but it needs somehow to reach the audience in some real capacity(unlike, say, the Rabbits and their terrible show--note to film pedants: the laugh track with the Rabbits is strikingly akin to how Hitchcock used it in Saboteur and other movies; their is some contempt for stupid audiences in both directors). The actress, a profession based on lies, when and did something true by helping the lost girl reunite with her family. In so doing, she has fulfilled the true role of Art--to change the lives, for the better, of those that experience it.

The above might seem unspecific at times; this is a problem with Lynch movies. Next time, I promise anyways, I will have a pen and paper ready. Certain scenes(and scant dialogue) is important, and I should be more vigorous in keeping track of them.

The Ninth Gate - 1999

2007-12-24T16:42:00.001-05:00

It is sad to watch movies like this. They broadcast their 'subtle' points about three miles in advance and keep you 'guessing' throughout the whole. After a time, it becomes boring. Who cares, really, if Depp goes to hell or not? Hos character, for loving books so much, seems unaware of their conventions. He seems stupid somehow. The script does not help either. It has echoes of Lovecraft throughout--like many of Polanski's films--but fails to even hint at anything of interest. It would have been great, after all, if this movie had atmosphere. I can be a dreamer.

The one moment of interest in this film was when Balkan(Frank Langella) interrupted a Satanic mass and criticized them. 'You're a bunch of idiots and should stop this--what the heel are you having orgies for at your age?' That was the bulk of it anyways. It was light, self-aware, and fresh in this otherwise dull movie. It does not seem like a outlandish request for stories to, well, do different(perhaps even interesting) things. Balkan was cliche besides that scene, and so was everyone else.

The Devil is in the details(how punny of me), and this movie lacks those that, I think, warrant a second look. If it was supposed to be ironic, it failed; if it was supposed to scary, it really failed. I can only hope that somebody, somewhere, will figure out what the hell is wrong with this movie. Until then, I will hope that Balkan's critique of Satanic mass reminds directors(perhaps even Polanski) to do more interesting things in their films.

The Wicker Man - 1973

2007-12-14T11:44:00.000-05:00

The best moment in the whole movie is the ending. Namely, when Sergeant Howie(Edward Woodward) screams at the pagan villagers that they will all be going to hell(or something to that effect). It is like a Freudian understanding come to life: I am going to tell on Dad and he is going to give you such a beating. He probably shouldn't be sacrificed--I'll grant that much in a daring show of good will--but still, he manages to make Christianity look pretty stupid while he's getting burned alive. Certainly intentional, but nevertheless one cannot help but wonder if Howie was really that dense. I suppose we will never know.

I am not usually a fan of musicals(or extended songs in general), but the songs and what-not in this movie all had a point in it. Context is, obviously, the key, and it did not seem pointless in this movie. Perhaps it isn't worth pointing that out, but I do so anyways.

Lord Summerisle(Christopher Lee) plays a great role in this movie. His love with apples(there's no snake in a tree, only in the Pagan's pants) manages to overtly state the movie's "point": that the people who understand religion are using it to control people. He pretty much admits the pagan stuff is all bullshit, but proudly keeps it going because he is, of all things, a Lord. This story is told from the uniquely British point of view(Anglican church) and so it makes additional sense on that line of thinking: the only difference is which Lord said which is right(the main difference is that one has been Fu Manchu--you tell me which). Also, it's funny to think that the pagans want someone to die for their sins(or the islands anyways) while Howie is happy that Jesus died a long time ago for his. I wonder if he would have investigated that murder? I'm not condoning it, I'm just having fun with this interesting little picture.

What's the deal with all movies taking place in England having very tense Pub meetings? You'd think they are all filled with murderers and the like. At this point I'm just thinking in text, but I'd really like to know.

Jag är nyfiken - en film i gult(I am Curious - Yellow) & Jag är nyfiken - en film i blått(I am Curious Blue) -- 1967/1968

2007-12-07T13:25:00.000-05:00

Although very much part of the sixties radical movement, these two films move away from the craziness in an interesting fashion. What I am describing, of course, is the representation of art as an inherently dictatorial enterprise. Despite being 'a movie', this is very much about the process of making 'a movie', and this is what makes it far more interesting than other movies of the period. Those films, I think naively, thought to say 'knowledge is free and everyone can have it'; the two "Curious" movies might say that knowledge is fully accessible, but not anyone can get at it(this is first suggest by the numerous interviews in the two films). Even if you are "curious", your knowledge is funnelled through 'controlled' channels(knowledge, after all, doesn't just appear--people must synthesize, interpret and publish). That the movie makes a parallel(though somewhat hyperbolic) between Franco(think Pan's Labyrinth in relation to this) and a director is rather interesting: they determine what people think. And, more specifically, art is about stimulating people to become "curious". How fascinating that he's such a dick.

I like to think of these movies as being critical of both sides of the "culture war". Criticism of conservatives is overt(recall the discussion about God, suffering and the afterlife), and the described criticism above mocks leftist notions of art as pure freedom: what about financing, after all(or challenging the art)? The movie is exploring the different aspects of the arguments through multi-layered film techniques(it's "curious" about film as film) and wants to see people and how they react to it. I think the condemnation(banning) of the movie only proves the argument it's advancing: the left defends art as art, and the more conservative minded individual is upset of its frank depiction(and language) of the body. In a certain sense, though I don't want to sound too zealous in this claim, it is critical of all(including itself). Because, after all, the only thing the movie plainly states is for you to buy it. I am sure this is not what 'art as art' should be saying.

Curiously(pun intended), the 'erotic' nature of these movies is greatly overplayed. The sex scenes are essentially two ugly(or, at the very least, bland) looking people having sex. Really, it's not really that much fun to look at(I could talk about free love, but I'll leave it at that). People, like Roger Ebert, criticizing the movie on this line are, basically, stupid. There are far more obscene things insinuated in movies than what is shown in this.

Mean Streets - 1973

2007-11-30T12:39:00.000-05:00

The Simple Art of Murder is where the title of this film comes from. In it, Raymond Chandler claims that the hero in "crime fiction" must walk the "mean streets" with a sense of justice and a notion of honor. I find this to be an interesting position; fortunately for me, so did Scorsese. Like Taxi Driver, on which I wrote extensively on this blog, Mean Streets is a movie that "does away with", so to speak, the type of thinking that Chandler is advocating. Despite the Charlie(Harvey Keitel) having more "honor" than Johnny Boy(Robert De Niro), their fates were the same. They immersed themselves in a world of violence and though, naively, that they could escape without it somehow affecting them. They thought it was all something of a game. Ultimately, it led to their downfall.

Throughout the film, repeated and almost becoming a mantra, is the claim to "not get involved"(think Vietnam/political problem X if you want--I'm going a different direction). Specifically, do not get involved with Johnny boy because he is not worth the energy or time. In other words, think of him as a non-entity and all his problems will resolve themselves(likely with a bullet through Johnny's head). Charlie cannot abide by this; the central "message" of the movie comes clear. It would be easy to be "honorable" and ignore Johnny--let him die his own way. It would be a terrible thing to do, but it would be what the archetypal images in the crime genre would argue for. He would walk the "Mean Streets" and know that he's superior and not care about what happens. He did care though, and it cost him dearly enough.

Religious subtext in Scorsese's movies are rich for interpretation(lapsed religious men, or even Travis Bickle's wishing for a great flood). I will not delve too deeply into the subject--mostly due to a personal lack of knowledge--but it seems like the movie is critical of the aloof style in which religion(or its adherents) view their members; they must find their own path, and leave them to it. Charlie involves himself personally, almost like a missionary, to try and help Johnny do better for himself. To escape, though, is not an easy thing. Scorsese's movies, it seems, like to have their characters try and escape, but then fail in the end. It is interesting to consider that facet of his films in a religious context; is there a better life awaiting us?

In any case, Mean Streets, it seems, begins the battle against "honor" and archetypal crime genre enemies. They are aloof, cruel and have no value for the lives of those under them. Charlie knew better, but that did not help anyone.

Spiderman 3 - 2007

2007-11-16T13:05:00.000-05:00

This is a terrible movie. It has the all the subtlety of a crappy western.

When I read comments--and I have--that this movie has "depth" then I begin to wonder what the word means. Is it, that, the movie positions its characters in situations unlike those we are used to? Spidey is wearing a black suit instead of his normal(American Flag) suit and, therefore, we can see his soul. Yes, this is the case, but it's stupid. Why do movies about comic books have to be so dumb? I don't think it's inherent(mind you I haven't read many comics). I'd be insulted to have this movie be made and try and be a fan of it. It would make me feel sick.

Quick!--let's do a picture comparison of Good Peter Parker:

And Evil Peter Parker:

Notice the difference? Don't worry, I'll give you a second to figure it out. Hm, hm, hm, hm. Some weather we're having--eh? Anyways, time's up. Have you managed to deduce the source of his sinisterness? It's the hair! The more hair you have over your forehead the more evil you are! It all makes perfect sense really--why didn't I ever consider this before!

Seriously though, despite this stupidity, I am actually appalled at this movie. I should think that the people who would like this movie would identify themselves in some capacity as 'counterculture'(a broad term no doubt). They would likely consider themselves as not harboring all the qualities that make you a straight-laced American; they're too cool for things like that. Does it not, then, bother them that this movie poses as that type of film but then reinforces the most basic of American values(family commitment, no 'cheating', clean haircuts)? Movies like 300 market themselves to those who think above the cheapness of Hollywood sentimentality and cliches. The problem is, these crappy movies(like Spiderman 3) are exactly that--sentimental pieces of tripe that reaffirm basic, nearly romantic, ideals about the United States. Rather than 'counterculture', these movies are about assimilating into the main culture. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but it is insulting and, more importantly, wound up in a coil of cinematic conventions and laughable characterization. Again, I would be embarrassed if I were a comic fan. This movie is trash(but not even in the good way).

That such a superficial movie says the battle is "within" makes me laugh--a movie like this cannot think beyond surfaces. It's only images, and all of them flow away into a pointless stream of garbage.

Sleeper - 1974

2007-11-14T15:46:00.000-05:00

It seems that the best comedies are always satirical at their core. Perhaps it follows logically that it's the case, but I would not be so bold as to assert it. However, it seems not a huge leap to go and make the claim that the satirical elements within Sleeper hefted it from just a Woody Allen movie--not necessarily a bad thing--into something that encompasses much more. This is a comedy that is confused about its identity but, in being confused, makes fun of just about anything it can fit into 88 minutes. I suppose that's quite a good thing(considered, after all, most comedies aren't funny).

Structurally, the movie is composed of parts "old"(slapstick) and parts "new"(strange, verbal jokes that Allen makes). It fits them into the story nicely enough. But, in doing this, it fits into the confusion of the seventies and how a film should(or ought) to be(how bold of me to make such an assertion). That is, the movie is not necessarily sure which direction it should go. The old(the past that we are 'now' in) has its own share of political problems; the future is run by a tyrannical nose. Simply put, no answer seems overly helpful. This is not to say that other things(drugs or the 'orgasmatron') are necessarily good ends in of themselves(the lousy poetry is very funny). And, even further, revolutionaries are displayed as a bunch of idiots; really, everyone is an idiot in this movie in their own fashion(this seems obvious enough). Though, the questions is pretty obvious: why do it at all? There is an easy answer of, "It's funnier that way." I shall not really dispute this. But it seems more likely that Allen, like what great comics do, is understand the absurdity of the entire sphere in which he lives. Mark Twain did not simply limit his satire to the rich and Vonnegut left no prisoners. Rather, they see the world and derided it within their own texts for a specific purpose. In this case, it is to show the inherent goofiness(though there should be a better word) of the revolutionaries and 'Big Brother' style conservatives. In this fashion, the film is leagues ahead of other--dare I say budget--films of the era. This one does not seem shackled by the time. Indeed, it wishes to break free and go other places. The problem is, the future sucks too. What a drag.

General Happenings

2007-11-12T10:18:00.000-05:00

Recently, as in ten minutes ago, I had the privelage of signing off one of my pieces for publication. Now that's a good feeling.

I'll be sure to provide a link when it's formally published at Popmatters.

As you might guess, I am a tad excited. And who says "New Year Resoultions" never come to pass? Next year, I should probably work for something even better. I wonder what that could be?

Donzoko(The Lower Depths) - 1957

2007-11-07T15:45:00.000-05:00

The almost expressionistic interior sets of this movie stand out in the mind--it's almost as if the world itself is crushing those in the movie. They are in the belly of some great beast and there is, unfortunately, no escape. Although its body holds back the rain, this is not enough to protect them from the metaphorical "flood"(I should think alcohol and water have an odd bond in this movie--they both 'wash away' truth in some capacity). However, despite the general bleak tone of this movie, there is the 'happiness' that the characters have amongst one another. This is of particular interest(as a "budding" author I can safely say that making a bleak scene is very, very easy). To combine two aspects into an overarching image or artistic statement is rather difficult. I think, generally speaking, that this movie does it. In the best sense of the term, this movie is a tragi-comedy and speaks well to attributes found(I assume anyways) in the lower caste of society.

More specifically, the movie does not simply allow the oppressive set design to dominate the scene(that sounds contradictory, but it is true). The odd characters--and there are many--are the focus of the camera and they do their best. I mean to say that they are trying to find happiness, in any form in their lives. There are no shots that dwell on the fantastic set design; one does not gaze at the garbage on the ground; no, this is a "human" movie that seeks to allow the characters, even if foul-mouthed, to speak for themselves. However, there is an interesting problem, I think anyways, that comes about in this movie.

Kehei(Bokuzen Hidari)--the old man--speaks of how each of us creates our own reality to better grip the world around us. In a general sense, this is true. What is of specific interest is that the movie itself is a style of fiction trying to come to 'grip' with the world. This, I would assume, is odd indeed; there is ruin in the movie when people take their fiction to the extreme. How, then, are we to accept a movie that is challenging us to not (fully)accept it? It is best to consider the movie in line with Rashômon: a movie that is specifically not giving all the answers. This, I think, is the work of a good artist. To try and solve all problems in one text would seem overly ambitious and, to be honest, a bit bizarre. Rather, you are to take some of the text(the humor of the characters) and use it in your own lives to prevent you from going to the proverbial "lower depths". Kurosawa is pleading, it seems to me, for the viewer not to accept everything he says. Why not, after all, go out and experience the world yourself? To boot, with a bit of knowledge from some humorous, and somewhat wise, drunks; that seems to be an acceptable message.

Still, the rain beats hard, and the actor was killed. Things are not all great, but to accept them simply due to their implementation in celluloid is a travesty to.

As a supplement, if I might be so bold, this provides additional content(and context) to what I was saying.

Sleepy Hollow - 1999

2007-10-31T16:57:00.001-04:00

Form(art direction) trumping content(narrative, story, 'themes') is, oddly enough, a very hotly debated topic amongst critics. Chiefly, this is an issue for movies that feel right rather than having other individual merits(I know people that love David Lynch films but they have no idea what the hell is going on--they feel the story). Mainly the debate focuses on whether or not one attribute should have total sway over the critical process. That is, whether or not the visual elements alone should be the deciding factor of whether the movie is 'good' or not(or vice versa). This seems to be a dubious position either way you look at it: you are constraining, either intentionally or not, what the movie can do in exploration of its story. By promoting this aspect of criticism, in fact, you are limiting what "art"--in the broadest sense of the term--can do. Together, form and content must work together to forge a "good" movie that is worthy of serious consideration. Sadly, in this case, I cannot go along with that decision. Sleepy Hollow is a movie that, while visually arresting, is so full of Hollywood conventions that I am left asleep. To be blunt, my head is full of nothing but my 'gut' responses to the content of the film. This seems to be a problem.

The nature of the fighting of the swordsman('cool' fighting), the flaccid fight scene at the end, the 'hidden' nature of the villagers, and just the hero coming out in the end because of faith--these are all general cliches that are budget. I was laughing when I saw these scenes(though, considering how odd Burton is, it might be intentional). I cannot resign myself to say that, "Yeah, these are some great images and what the characters say doesn't matter." If images are all that matter, then go look at paintings. That's what the movie really looks like: a beautiful painting. We get to hear the people in it, but they have nothing to say to us--Burton knows how to make 'artful' pictures, but dialogue is a constant battle for him(Ed Wood is an exception of course). He his not using the potential of the form--pretentious jerk I am to claim that--and, because of that, I am not going to love what he's doing. It creates one image in the mind(the horseman riding like black death), and that's all well and good. I just think defending the movie for this, and giving credence to a lesser work, is not the job of a critic. We have a head for more than just eyes.

And yes, I am something of a Halloween sentimentalist(last year I wrote about Alien and Night of the Living Dead). I suppose we all have our own vices: this is mine to bear.

One Year Ago Today

2007-10-26T12:46:00.000-04:00

Can you believe how quickly time flies? It seems like just last week that I started this blog(I am joking of course). So many things have happened since then, whether they be critical or social -- I am dumbfounded to even think about it. Of course, that will not stop me from doing so.

The most important lesson I have learned is this: social grandstanding does no good. It is easy for a critic to argue the importance of a movie and say that others -- those that don't get it -- are fools. Even easier is to claim that the film has ideas that the masses just aren't ready for. It may very well be the case, but that sort of posturing is a dime a dozen(just like that cliche). Harder, it seems, is to contextualize the film and place it within a framework. Promoting(or criticizing) said context seems to be the ultimate end for a critic. It is easy to say what a movie 'does', but it is harder to say why it does so. And, even greater, what caused the why. Anyways, that is what I think about it.

I have essentially failed at my set goals(go back and read my first post to see why). However, it is my personal policy that it is better to try and fail than never try at all. I feel that there shall be much more failing before this is all done with.

With all of that 'personal' stuff out of the way, I will link my own personal favorite posts(and failures) for your reading pleasure. The 'Failure Posts' are generally ill-conceived on the most basic levels. I could rewrite them into a coherent point(I do hate Se7en and could explain myself better), but it would be wrong. Other people should see my failures so that I can learn from them.

Personal Favorite Posts:
Pulp Fiction
Taxi Driver
Psycho -- Main Post and Followup.
American Beauty
Borat
Persona
Pan's Labyrinth
Deliverance

Failure Posts:
The Departed
Silence of the Lambs
Watership Down
Ju-On(The Grudge)
Se7en

300 - 2007

2007-10-25T11:56:00.000-04:00

A friend of mine wrote this at the great Popmatters site. It effectively makes the movie look like a rancid, militaristic pile of trash; an accurate portrayal I think. Both of the movies I have seen based on Frank Miller's work -- Sin City and now this -- are fantasies for boys. The problem, of course, is that fantasy does have implications(as described in the piece I linked to) that cannot be taken too lightly. Good visuals should not ever be a free pass for crazy subtexts.

There is nothing necessarily wrong with trash cinema(I want to make sure that is cleared up now). Ong-Bak The Thai Warrior is a great example of this. Movies can be all about action and no thinking; there is nothing terrible about that. However, as stated before, one must remain critical and, oddly enough, think about what the trash is throwing into our mind. It is one thing to like 300 just for visuals(they are pretty well done), but there is another to go along with its political message(laws are meant to be broken by a 'just' leader; non-whites are evil; politicians are easily swayed by money; they'll anally rape you given the chance). Given the political climate nowadays, I do not think I need to explain why this is troubling.

I cannot say I am surprised at the low quality of this movie, but I am saddened that it did so well at the box office. Terrible, insulting movies should not be given the time of day. This bastardized movie should be forgotten and left to die.

Planet Terror - 2007

2007-10-24T16:20:00.001-04:00

There's a good quote by AO Scott at the NY Times about this movie:

"Its sloppiness is a trait it shares not only with obscure horror movies (many of which were much more rigorously executed), but also with some of Mr. Rodriguez’s other films. His energy, in movies like “Once Upon a Time in Mexico” and the later “Spy Kids” installments, has often outstripped his taste. Not only does he like bad movies, he has a habit of making them too."

Indeed, that is certainly the case. For a movie that wishes to extol the virtues of 'trash' cinema(fun but no thought), this is not a very fun movie. There are sections of course, but I would be hard pressed to enjoy the film itself. Bad movies are bad; I'm afraid that just is the case.

Also, it is interesting to think about this movie in consideration with feminism/masculinity. Both of the sections of Grindhouse have women -- how should I say this? -- getting large metal sticks on their bodies(whether a gun or metal jousting rod at the end of Death Proof). I have mentioned this elsewhere, but the turning of subtext into actual text, oddly enough, makes the movies even less interesting to think about. They become plain, plodding and without the energy and vitality that made things so much fun with cheesy garbage. Tarantino has his dick melt away in this movie: the metaphorical point is fairly obvious. Might his fecundity as a director be shown this way too?

I have little to say on this movie because it's one that dares you not to think about it. Why not play Godhand instead?

The Jazz Singer - 1927

2007-10-19T11:56:00.000-04:00

Movies, at least Hollywood ones, have a strange history. The Birth of the Nation is a terribly offensive film(despite what "critics" like Roger Ebert might say). The sad part, of course, is that it must be seen because of its technical achievements. Granted, it has a grasp of direction that most silent films could only dream of. Does that mean that it should be watched by those interested in the form? Perhaps, but it should not ever be complimented for its 'message'(or whatever you prefer to call it). The same can be said of The Jazz Singer: although it might have introduced important concepts into the form, it should not really be thought of as a "good" movie. It is dated, tired and rather offensive(I'm not even one quick to pull that complaint about a movie either). No, it just is a movie that has to be seen for historical importance. A shame really that it has to be so bad.

I try and read other reviews and opinions about the movies I see(this means IMDB and Wikipedia, but it is better than nothing I guess). I was taken by surprise that critics say that this movie actually criticizes, or comments on, the notion of black face. This seems like a stretch to me. After Jackie(Al Jolson) dons the makeup, he becomes 'evil Jackie'(forsaking God and family just for money). He is, to quote the movie, "a shadow of his former self". Indeed, certainly this is intelligent commentary on such a lurid tradition. If anything, the black face in this movie reflects how natural, how normal the practice was back then; Jolson dons the makeup like he was tying his shoes. This is a tad odd coming from my, modern, eyes. It reflects the era in all its tackiness. I do not mean to say that no movie in the era could comment on these issues, but, seriously, The Jazz Singer does not do so. It would be nice to think so, and it might do other things(accepting new things does not mean the old is terrible--tied in with silent and talkies) well, but it would false to assert certain traits in this movie.

And yes, I did pick the most offensive poster that I could find. There are others that have Al looking pretty happy with himself(and paint a good view of the movie). It would be wrong of me to mislead the audience(however small my readership might be). I can only hope that technical achievements can be appreciated without trying to justify the content. The two can be understood apart but, of course, cannot independently add up to a "good" movie.

American Beauty - 1999

2007-10-18T11:52:00.000-04:00

What a shitty movie. There, I said it. This is one of the most outlandish and overpraised films I have ever seen. The thought that someone, someplace liked this movie fills me with dread. Although I have disdain for the Oscars in general, this movie blows that out of the water. Apparently critical love is nothing but PR. Anyways, I am rambling due to hatred. I shall indulge you, noble reader, and outline some of the ways this movie fails.

Recently I have been reading some books by Pauline Kael(great stuff). She had a fascinating comment in regards to the late Humphrey Bogart. Namely, and I am paraphrasing, that audiences loved him because he was cynical, pessimistic yet, at the same time, represented America in a grand value. He toyed with the idea of going against America but always came back in the end. This movie stinks of that far worse. Obviously the writers were having fun calling it "American Beauty"(it is ironic). In the end, however, the Kevin Spacey character(his acting was the only worthwhile thing) looks at a picture of his family and gets all weepy eyed. Yes, after all the movie has put him(and others) through, he decides that the most normal American institution is the best thing for him. How pathetic. This type of pandering to the audience, playing it as "edgy" then going back to predictability, should not be applauded in any form. Rather than a work of art, it is just something crafted for monetary purposes.

And that is the worst part of it all. This movie apparently tries to show the 'hollowness of American suburban society'. Perhaps they should have looked at the terrible script before that? The characters broadest their feelings, desires and 'inner' qualities(of which we are supposed to "look closer" for) so loudly, that the movie becomes a hollow experience because of its packaged status. This movie was meant for consumption by the people it is criticizing; cynicism to the highest degree I think. The idea would be interesting to consider(for a minute), but a hollow movie really is not a good way to criticize the 'hollowness' of American society(how could a Hollywood movie do that anyways?).

The opening narration scene made me, to quote the movie, "puke my fucking guts out." Indeed, maybe it did show the hollowness in me.

El Espíritu de la colmena(The Spirit of the Beehive) - 1973

2007-10-17T22:39:00.000-04:00

I will not try to dispense cinematic 'justice' onto this movie. I confess, most sadly, that I am at a loss. Often movies relate to a particular culture and are difficult to translate; I assume this to be the case here. Discussing Franco's Spain, as it seems to be about, is problematic for me to consider fully. After all, I am not overly knowledgeable to try and fake the discussion. So be it. This is a movie I will buy though. There is a haunting beauty about it that, despite lack of "meaning" on my part, I love. This might seem like the excuse of a cheap critic, and it certainly is, but I am resigned to do so anyways.

Anyone who likes Pan's Labyrinth should watch this anyways. They seem - how should I say it? - very much alike.

Dai-bosatsu tôge(The Sword of Doom) - 1966

2007-10-10T16:07:00.001-04:00

I am constantly impressed with movies of this type. 'This type' refers to action films with aloof, nihilistic protagonists. Like Sergio Leone's film Once Upon a Time in the West, we, the viewing public, are granted a story centered around a wildly devilish character. At times he seems sick of himself, at other points he laughs at the death he has unleashed upon the world. To be frank, he is something of an enigma throughout(though, to be fair, the sequels were never made). However, this is a certain line that gives insight into the movie. "The sword is the soul. Study the soul to know the sword. Evil mind, evil sword." Spoken by Toranosuke Shimada(Toshiro Mifune), this line takes increased relevance when considered alongside the nature of 'tools'. Namely, how implicit in the quote is how a sword(tool) can do evil(or good) things depending on who wields it. Multiple types of people will wield the sword(Samurai) but you can only understand them if you know how they use the sword. I should not think it a leap to claim the following: although the director(Kihachi Okamoto) made a movie with a set tool(a camera), we can see how it moves to understand his motives. That is, by looking at how the camera(sword/tool) reacts to the fictional world, we might be able to discern meaning in an otherwise nihilistic, apocalyptic film.

The movements of the camera that must be watched are its 'relaxed' status(much like the silent form that Ryunosuke Tsukue(Tatsuya Nakadai) uses). Specifically, the tracking and long shots that are used during the major battle sequences. They capture the horrifying exactness in how Ryunosuke(or Toranosuke during the snowstorm) cut down their foes and leave them dying in agony. It is presented in an even fashion; the camera does not take sides(though it does like violence in bits and spurts). The camera takes it all in with wide eyes as if in disbelief about the carnage it is witnessing. This style leads up the devastating final confrontation in the brothel wherein Ryunosuke seems to kill hundreds of men without a pause in his conviction. He has become a monster. The camera absorbs all the sordid details of this conflict in quiet terror. In the end, the camera itself seems under attack from the silent master himself.

I take this as a repudiation of concepts usually understood in an action film: namely, that we will accept mayhem and violence in a movie simply because, well, it is a movie. I am not going to posture myself into saying that violence in movies is inherently wrong, but there is a certain oddness to the whole affair that should be looked at in a critical light. This movie most certainly does so. Like Leone's movies, as noted above, this The Sword of Doom makes us the silent observer of this deranged monster. I imagine that we sometimes are like him--happy at the violence caused, but shocked by the devastation of it. The movie is aware of the dubious nature of the genre. That alone, and its execution of it, make it worthy of high praise indeed.

Death Proof - 2007

2007-10-04T11:18:00.000-04:00

This movie is nothing more than self-indulgence. Tarantino seems proud of his skill to make a terrible movie and be proud of it. Make no mistake here, this is a bad movie. Unlike in previous ventures(Pulp Fiction for instance) where he worked inside of a genre to shows its lack of taste, this movie indulges in excess. This is not necessarily a bad thing though. However, what makes this instance less than laudable is its insistence upon insulting the audience and, at the same time, distorting the past to Tarantino's own liking. I guess anything is possible in movie land, but maybe that is a problem.

Having characters talk about movies or other texts inside of a text is nothing new. However, the difference in this movie from others is how it feels compelled to insult you. Stuntman Mike(Kurt Russell) hearkens back to the day of older films and cultural landscapes that are now quaint by comparison. It is no mistake that dimwitted vagabonds do not know about those artifacts and are confused by his musings. One could lump this with 'Tarantino dialogue' and just call it that, but I simply will not. He wants us to feel ashamed a bit that we do not recall the old movies that he cared about so long ago(note that the heroes of this movie are in touch with the mercenary spirit of 'trashy' movies). Death Proof strikes me as less tribute than advocacy: go and see old movies because I, Tarantino, say so. The movie does not provide compelling reasons and, more importantly, distorts the past in the process.

I noticed in the end credits that Roger Corman of all people is given thanks. For what? He was a terrible director that did almost nothing for the form. His movies, and I have sat through plenty, exist to fill time. That is it. I am personally disturbed that Tarantino would seriously wish to advocate thanking such a hack director(he gave starts to actors--end of story). Death Proof is a movie that wants to recall the good examples from the 'trash' genre rather than anything else. Why is it necessary to try and distort the past? I would rather hear of the good examples of 'Grindhouse' cinema(or, better yet, pay for their re-release) than to have patently false claims made about movies in general. It is one thing to celebrate lesser known movies that exceed in their own right, but to seriously try and elevate garbage like Corman movies is a joke that, really, should be frowned upon.

I was disappointed in the 'fakeness' of this walk down memory lane. You cannot, or should not, make a 'trash' movie from millions of dollars. He is like Gatsby trying to go back in time(though it is not tragic in this case). The whole thing just looks painful. Fake grime, grit and sound distortions are well and good, but they come off as so obviously strained(the dialogue too) and worked over that they lose their appeal. I love bad('trash') movies way more than your average person, but this movie lost the spontaneous crap that made them so appealing. A good director should not work towards a lesser end. A great 'trash' film is a weak director giving it their all and making something watchable(Corman never did this, but others have). This movie is far too labored with its cut film jumps(always at the right points) and camera movements(too good) for me to think of this as a bad movie. Actually, let me take that back: this is bad movie masquerading as a throwback movie.

And as a final note: anyone who seriously tries to argue that Stuntman Mike is to be representative of Tarantino and that his death at the end is supposed to be the death of Grindhouse Cinema...well, nice try but I cannot buy that. Unlike the redemption at the end of Pulp Fiction, which at least seemed somewhat possible(and plausible given his career), I cannot fathom thinking this is the last 'trashy' movie that Tarantino will make. There will be others, and no argument will change that.

I guess another final note: Tarantino appearing as a bartender in the movie is the one moment of clarity. The directors in older movies always cast themselves in roles that made them look awesome. Consider, for instance, that Tarantino gets a little kiss from all the main female characters. Go figure. I have seen enough awful movies to commend this on his part. It was quite funny and showed understanding of the genre(it could just be self indulgence in an inherent form, but I will leave him alone for a little bit).

The War - 2007

2007-10-03T16:39:00.001-04:00

What is fascinating about a movie like this is the implication of it. That is, the nature of the WW2 conflict is so ingrained into a shared understanding of American society that one cannot help but think of it as near mythological. In that sense, this movie is trying to craft a new mythology about the battles and hardships that is more palatable to modern day life. Rather than confine itself to tripe like a bad John Wayne film, it attempts to view the battle through multiple angles and provide a new cultural perspective for it. We(the Americans) were not always right and did not always have the proper tools needed for the battle. Many, many people died needlessly in a conflict with horrors beyond compare. It was, in some descriptions, 'the good war'. To say that would miss the stated point of Burns: it might have been necessary, but it was not good(I am likely editorializing a paraphrase quite a bit).

First and foremost, the movie does not present itself as having all the answers to the conflict. Rather, it takes itself as a viewer of the war and recounts it to the viewer. This multi-layered telling of reality is in of itself troubling(lies and all). However, Burns is attempting to fashion the war as being more acceptable to modern people. I do not mean he's trying to change the war or anything but, rather, showing it not as a one sided event that happened in history with only one end. It was a dynamic event that affected everybody in the entire world in one fashion or another. In presenting the story as a new shared mythology, it is helpful to have the many people that took part in the war(either directly or indirectly) to contribute to this. He is not trying to supplant history, but allow us to add to the grander tapestry that surrounds the largest event that we've been a part of on the planet.

Also of importance is how the movie prevents itself from fully supporting everything that happened. You'd find few people to defend the Nazi's, but likely as few would defend the bombing of Dresdan(so it goes). The new understanding of war, whether good or not, is to view things in more of a grey area. Things are no longer good and evil, black and white--there is the terrible ambiguity of human cost and suffering. The movie, as an instrument of sentiment, presents these issues to the viewer for them to make up their mind. However, this is not to say that there is no agenda in the movie(though it's not that sinister). I mean that the movie wants people to see how war, even if it is the 'good one', has human costs that should not ever be reduced to just a number. The terrible images in the movie cannot ever be reduced to being war propaganda(many war movies are tacitly supportive of carnage). It would be hard to consider this work as defending all actions it shows.

As a final note, and in support of the new cultural mythology the movie hearkens to, the new footage that the movie shows makes it seem as though it really happened(though I'm being somewhat flippant). This changes the events and makes them more dynamic. Hitler doesn't just yell--he awards medals to twelve year olds trained to fight. Marines are slowly buried in the sand brought in by the surf. Japanese civilians have their skin burned by just existing in Nagasaki. Ultimately, this new mythology is more nuanced than the other we previously possessed and hopefully can make people more seriously consider the cost of battle. It's not like in the movies after all.

Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song - 1971

2007-09-27T15:24:00.000-04:00

Usually before I write about any given movie on this site I try and read comments on IMDB, wikipedia and in more formal reviews(assuming I can find them quickly enough). In the case of this film, the most common complaints are as follows: Firstly, the movie reinforces racial stereotypes rather than trying to 'solve' them. And, more importantly(I think), the camera work makes no sense and the movie is rendered virtually unwatchable. I think both of these complaints are easily answerable and show why this movie is a little above the likes of Shaft.

Sweetback(Melvin Van Peebles), in the context of the film, has always been viewed as a sexual object with little humanity inherent within himself(he is nearly always splayed on top of some woman or staring without speaking). He, quite literally, has been fed this type of worldview from his foster-parents at the start of the movie. This is not necessarily how he would live his own life, but it is how things are for him. Rather than the movie trying to dress this aspect up, it shows Sweetback for what society has made him. I think it no accident that the focus of the movie is on him diverting the attention of the cops while the revolutionary Mu-Mu(Hubert Scales) is given a chance to escape. Society--in this case the complacent viewing audience--is forced to view Sweetback while the 'real' (more important)story of Mu-Mu is pushed to the sidelines and all but forgotten in the end. This seems a fair indictment of fictional archetypes fashioned by the media and lends the movie a fresh air of credibility where other, later, movies of the type(blaxploitation) have failed. Although I do not necessarily think it is a blaxploitation movie, I find it necessary to at least mention the point.

The second, more straight, criticism of the movie is that its direction and camera movement render it nearly impossible to view. This is likely made by people who do not necessarily view movies in a critical fashion. The camera does seem 'lost' in the fictional world that Sweetback lives in, but this, again, is more an indictment of the world that he lives in. Rather than a weakness of the director--why can't he keep a shot straight?--it speaks to Sweetback not knowing where his character(or race) fits into the world. During the 70's, police brutality was a fact of life(my cursory look at history reinforces this). How could someone oppressed by this time of systematic violence ever hope to find a way out from under it? The lonely, swaying movements of the camera as Sweetback runs across the entire country only serve to reinforce this general trend that the 'Black Community'(as the movie says) would understand. It is no accident that the movie was(and might still be) required viewing for members of the Black Panthers.

Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song does not fall victim to the problems in Shaft and Superfly. What I mean is this: those films dealt with cliches to try and move past them while this movie dwells within them while questing for a path out. There is not necessarily a way out yet, but the answer might very well be there someday. In an ironic sense, it is sad that the movie did usher in the blaxploitation genre.

The Birds - 1963

2007-09-19T15:17:00.001-04:00

Hitchcock loves making the familiar into something wrong, fiendish or otherwise terrible. As in A Shadow of a Doubt, he takes the usual and morphs it into a grim visage of terror that, while not actually terrifying(I don't think so anyways), might gnaw away at you as you look at some birds gathering now and again. This, I think, might be one of the ultimate ends of any author in the fictional form: to make their 'fiction' come into life and affect how real people see the world. If you somehow make birds, a normal aspect of life, somehow seem vaguely terrifying, then you have fully etched your mark(your brush stroke) unto the world. In that sense, The Birds is a magnificently successful(and powerful) film.

Monster films, natural disaster flicks or even plague movies follow a mold that, in my experience, require only a passing look to determine whether or not they should be taken 'seriously'. Namely, the question is placed like this: is the director stupid? If so, then perhaps no more consideration should be granted to the text. However, and certainly in this case, if the director is smart, then there is another step that should be taken to look at the story. Namely, and this has a vague sense of history behind it, one must consider the aforementioned cinema types in an allegorical(or perhaps metaphorical) manner. Namely, the story is likely not outlining how terrible a 'bird attack' might actually be, but it is probably saying something else(forgive the droll nature of that comment please). With all that said, I shall at least give a shot at discussing this oddly underrated Hitchcock film.

The 'true nature' of a bird--and certainly those in the movie--is to be docile and not to interfere in the world of man. This movie, like many Hitchcock has made, is layered with multiple 'truths' that each are attempting to usurp one another. Did she(Tippi Hedren) really jump into the fountain naked; did she actually commit a crime at all; does the lawyer(Rod Taylor) have a near Oedipal love affair? There are other examples, and I should perhaps be more thorough, but I suppose the point is made well enough. Namely, that these different versions of 'the truth' each are in a sort of conflict with one another and there is not necessarily an answer to that. This point, and I alluded to it earlier, is visually noted by the birds disregarding their 'true nature' by attacking people throughout the movie(it is nice an ornithologist literally walked into the movie to tell us their 'true nature'--I should think myself confused otherwise with killer gulls). Anyways, these birds have literally ended the conflict between supposed truth and actual truth by, again literally, flying away from the problem and showcasing it to others in a truly violent fashion. In the tumultuous times of the 60's, and note that this was the movie the master made after Psycho(which I wrote a ton on earlier), the death of truth is perhaps an underplayed topic in American discourse. It takes an attack from nature(from on high you might say) to show the battle between truth and reality throughout the land.

I do not wish to make it simply an afterthought, but there is certainly a great line of inquiry about this movie using the slang term 'bird' for women as a starting off point. Women wanting to be treated rightly--might they be a little upset? It is all rather interesting to consider the different points that are suggested in the movie. However, and perhaps most telling of all, the old master does not actually have a 'true' ending in the most definite sense of the word. We are left to look at the birds and--really, this is quite devious--make up our own version of the truth. We cannot escape this reality fabrication at all. Quite evil really, and fantastic when considered in that light.

7 Days in May - 1964

2007-09-12T15:53:00.000-04:00

What is particularly interesting about this film is how the media, or, rather, the one that controls it, decides the fate of the government. General Scott(Burt Lancaster) probably would have succeeded in his plan for taking control of the government should the President(Fredric March) not have done a press conference prior that day. The implications, of course, are resounding even today. 'Truth', always a difficult subject, and 'control' are then shown to be products of what people in higher places say. By force of will, and what has now been coined 'truthiness' by some nefarious television scamp, things can become what people would want. It is a relatively new world order that has allowed the formation of these sorts of power. That is, there are now enough sources of news that, should they all begin spouting one thing, it now might actually supplant the 'truth' with whatever they want. Interesting indeed.

Perhaps it is naive to think that the American public would be so easy to sway(a certain presidential debate comes as a counter to this however). Then again, as I just noted, it is sometimes irrational how willing people are towards believing the government or, in a more general sense, those in power. The voice that yells the loudest, sadly, is not necessarily the right one.

I really like that the general would have used 'Mount Thunder' to release his new rule upon the government. Invocations of Greek(and by extension Christian) ideas while including 'truth' and media?--always a fascinating thing to consider.

Das Leben der Anderen(The Lives of Others) - 2006

2007-08-23T16:34:00.000-04:00

This movie fits nicely into a near Hitchcockian mold dealing with the voyeuristic oddity that movies inherently have. I shall not really discuss it here--as it really pertains more to something like Rear Window--but the argument can certainly be made about this movie.

What is more so interesting about the movie is the issue that 'everyone can change'. Although often the subject of bad TV movies, it is given additional merit from the context of the movie(can the evil, and they certainly are, spy/government ever change). It is hard to be sure really. Although, in the end, 'the truth' does come out, it is not necessarily due to the changing of anything moral. Rather, it might just be due to a realization of the corrupt government. The ideals--the initial start--of the spying might still be within the characters, but he might have deemed it necessary to buck the trend just this once. Since we never see any other incidents after it, one cannot conclude if he actually changed.

One might actually be inclined, as I am, to think that he did not really change. Other ministers are presented as still having their odd lifestyle choice(evil snickering) still ingrained within them. If anyone should wish to reform I think, or at least hope, that they would. There is nothing to gain by having their old habits chew away at their innards; why keep them at all? It is likely dealing with the mantra of molding that the government(that of East Germany) possessed. That is, being part of society in a 'good fashion' was forced into them(they were molded to it) so they might very well have been incapable of changing.

Somehow, though, I doubt that.

Blade Runner Analysis

2007-08-22T22:31:00.000-04:00

http://www.sensesofcinema.com/contents/07/43/blade-runner.html

I do not have the capability to write such lengthy and well informed piece as above. More importantly, I have not given the film the thought really warranted. Despite that, I think it best for my few noble readers to give the above a glance.

The Lady from Shanghai - 1947

2007-08-22T14:24:00.000-04:00

Noir films are one of the few types that seem to pull off voice overs. Due to it being a visual medium at heart, oftentimes protracted scenes with personal speech come off as downright silly(there are, of course, exceptions to this). However, noir is able to integrate it well into their surroundings well enough so that we(or, to be more precise, I) do not think it is being used due to a lack of talent on the part of the director. In fact, using such a technique can only be viewed as talent in the hands of a master(Welles is most certainly a master).

As with a movie like Sunset Boulevard, there is a great deal of initial narration. Later, as the protagonist loses control of the situation, voice overs lessen in their frequency. This, it seems clear, is a break between control of the characters from the fiction that they inhabit. That is, where once they had literal sway of the 'truth' that happened in the world, now they lose their own voice and are swept away by the actions that take place onscreen. More so than any other movie that I have seen, The Lady from Shanghai blends this into the action. The protagonist actually thinks himself--and tells us--a hero. Later on, with such fanciful camera directions and the hall of mirrors scene(might everyone have a secret?) we are forced from necessarily accepting his control of the movie. He has lost grip with the 'truth' of the fiction and we are forced to take a ride with him.

Noted above is the hall of mirrors sequence. While done already in Citizen Kane, the import of the scene has been altered in this new film. Where once(as I read it) it showcased the distance the character had between himself and the world, it now takes on the feeling of duplicity. In the end, I am not sure if anyone in the movie can be seen as good(even Michael(Orson Welles) seems to have a sinister edge that is just under the surface). The scene, while being a visual break from contemporary style, highlights this issue for the audience: can you even know if someone, even the fellow right next to you, is good(or, at the very least, innocent?). It is unlikely, and this paranoia pervades noir films. That it is done so exceptionally well here is why I mention it.

Bian Lian(The King of Masks) - 1996

2007-08-15T17:18:00.000-04:00

With the heavy emphasis that this movie places on masks and acting, I think it no stretch to claim that there is an ingrained element of this movie dealing with how human affairs might be considered an act. That is, the actual differences between people are quite small all things considered, and it is only due to a 'masking effect' created by cultural/political/etc. differences that have made relations amongst people difficult. All things being equal, people should be treated equally. The movie limits itself in scope by making the main focus of the camera on gender relations(this is all well and good). However, if extrapolated to include other issues including wealth(perhaps even noted in the movie due to the rich child), it becomes apparent that we, as humans, just have different faces but have a common core that links us to something. I do not necessarily even mean on a spiritual level--as that gets difficult to actually prove or articulate rationally--but I mean moreso on the level of the 'human condition'. Certain traits are common amongst all, and it is only due to extreme difficulties involving comedies of error played out on epic scales that so many problems actually exist.

I think the point above is well shown during the movie when the army officers seem to get rough with the King of Masks(Zhigang Zhang). Once they are shown the magic, and removed are the vestments of their trade, one can see them as human beings rather than authoritarian pawns. Ultimately, as melodrama goes, it doesn't get much better than this.

Apocalypto - 2006

2007-08-14T11:45:00.000-04:00

The problem that this movie has is not something unique. No, in all truth, it is somewhat common when looked at from a broad perspective across multiple eras. This difficulty I am speaking of is something called 'The Indian Movie Rule'. Well, actually, it is not called that, but I hope to coin the term at least to some degree. Now with all that said, I shall explain to you, noble reader, why this is such a problem.

There are two groups of Indians in this movie: those that are 'good' and those that are 'evil'. This, I should hope, cannot be disputed with any seriousness. The 'good' ones, while still having facial adornments, tattoos and other non-western styled dress, dress in an acceptable alteration from the more normal things we are used to. They are different, but it's cool because they're still basically on the same page as us. Now, the 'evil' people in this movie have some of the most outlandish dresses that one could ever hope to imagine. And it does not end there, they have more facial piercings, tattoos and other body modifications. Really, they are nothing like the other people that we have grown to like in the earlier sections of the film.

And that's the rub. By defining the aesthetic nature of the characters with their moral conduct within, Gibson is inadvertently(at least I hope so) creating a western centrist view towards the world. Those that are more different than us, visually that is, are also different from the accepted moral standards that we--the arbiters of the world--would deem acceptable. A sick revulsion goes through our mind as we see those that are dressed in their outlandish garbs and, of all things, would defile their bodies with loathsome tattoos. It is a mockery to see them, and we hate them in their first second onscreen(which, if seriously considered, has the guy with all the skulls on him). It is overly simplistic and dumb.

This film is not the only one guilty of this. Dances with Wolves, a movie that actually wanted to correct problems like this, was profoundly stupid in dealing with this cliche and others. Really, it is rare indeed when a movie doesn't screw up the presentation of Indian(or native cultures in general) inside of films.

Mosura tai Gojira(Godzilla vs Mothra) - 1964

2007-07-23T12:24:00.000-04:00

I find it shocking when a film is viewed in its original form when compared to the sanitized version normally shown. Specifically, in the case of this movie, it is appalling how great an alteration has been made. Consider, for instance, that the Americans are granted a position of power in the American version(go figure) while in the original(the Japanese), the country is allowed to defend themselves. This, considering the after effects of WW2, is a profound change that speaks volumes to the difficulties between the two nations even after twenty years. However, with that brief rant now done, I shall discuss the movie for what merits it does have.

Ishiro Honda, the director, cut his teeth with Kurosawa on films like Stray Dog. Quite importantly, it is a film that concerns itself with post-war Japan. Although I am certainly no expert on the subject--I assure you of that much now--I perhaps can discuss it in an offhand, less than exact manner. The corrupt business owner, the inefficient bureaucracy/government and the general callousness towards personal suffering, quite oddly, permeate this film on a great level. I think it not accident that the film should be so rooted in post-war cinema and have these thematic qualities in it(whether or not how seriously developed they are is a matter for debate). Speaking frankly, not much is actually accomplished by the government in this movie. Although they have a plan for killing Godzilla, it ultimately fails and they are left helpless in his wake. Notice, too, that they cannot even evacuate a city properly under the rampage. This speaks to two fronts: not only is the threat of nuclear war(likely personified by Godzilla) still present, but the current officials and their cohorts are likely not up to the task of dealing with it. Despite the films fuzzy exterior(monsters films, for some reason, have this stigma), there is a heavy criticism of Japan ingrained into the actions of the characters.

Mothra--it seems to me a clear invocation of a great earth mother--seems almost incapable of stopping the great evils that we(collectively that is) have unleashed on the world. Although eternal, she can do little more than simply contain the evil of Godzilla. It is beyond the power of the Earth(expand to God if you will) to even combat such a great force. The sadness of that, really, if one considers it is quite profound. Honda had little faith in humanity and this is why his comments(or those made through his characters) might seem so simplistic on the surface. Rather than that, they speak towards a general antipathy that, perhaps rightly so, he felt. That Godzilla always found a way to return on Honda's vision speaks more towards antipathy, I think, than franchise. Later, of course, this changed, but the earlier works in the Showa series must be understood in a different light.

And perhaps you wonder why I have given Godzilla the unique privilege of a label. Well, there is a certain sentimental quality that, in truth, must be allowed for. After all, loving something is the obvious cause for a passion like mine(towards movies that is). I am very fond of Godzilla movies due to them(quite often anyways) functioning as allegory and/or myth tales. I believe monsters have always filled this role well and am pleased to see that they continue to arouse the mind's dark corners.

Heavenly Creatures - 1994

2007-07-18T17:03:00.000-04:00

Peter Jackson does an admirable job in showcasing the alienation that presents itself in the lives of the star crossed lovers. What is especially interesting is that the film does not condone visually the actions of the characters. That is, while it gives us a deep look into the lives of the characters(their twisted little world and their odd justification for murder), there is no reason for me to think that Jackson wanted us to sympathize with them on any larger scale. I find this important due to other films, Monster comes to mind, that seem to want the viewer to question traditional morality. Jackson, thankfully, does not find himself compelled to do this. We are offered a look into their mind but there is no reason for us to ever consider that what they are doing is right. They might have had bad luck befall them, but a distance is kept(most blatantly obvious during the murder scene) that is laudable on the part of the now famous director.

The special effects are quite dazzling and, to be honest, have interesting import if considered in a certain manner. The illusory world that they crafted around themselves, solipsistic in a certain manner, ultimately had a damaging effect on their development(I refer to murder rather than sexual orientation--I am glad, now that I am discussing this, to note that Jackson does not exploit their lesbian nature for cinematic uses). They considered themselves geniuses for now reason and, due to removing themselves from the real world, it is shown that they lose touch with reality and fall prey to curious adolescent moods. I consider this to be a discussion of points that Pan's Labyrinth would later take to more profound and interesting heights(this is not to criticize this film at all). Although the fiction that they create for themselves might be pleasant to their aesthetic sensibilities, it is wrong for them to continue in this delusional manner. This, I think, the movie makes plain to those that watch it.

What I find perhaps most curious about the movie is the above. Well, I mean if one takes the above and extrapolates the points to the director of the film: Peter Jackson. Namely, that he has now devoted himself to living in childhood fantasies and presenting them in over the top, extravagant manners. Quite oddly, if only to some degree, this is the behavior that is found to be painful and wrong for the characters of this film. I am not sure if this irony is understood by Jackson, but it does not seem far fetched to consider his career as being somewhat contradictory if viewed in this specific manner.

The invocation of the famous film The Third Man is quite odd and, considering it has been so long since I have seen it, I am not sure how to take it. The only manner I currently consider is that Orson Welles, in that movie, gave a speech about treating people as little dots that are for no purpose(would you really cry if a dot vanished?). Despite the two girls disliking how he looked so much, it should seem odd that they would align themselves with such a nefarious individual as that. Well, regardless of whether I am right or not, tribute to such a great man is always nice to see.

Slither - 2006

2007-07-14T11:36:00.000-04:00

Tribute films, as has been discussed before, are all the rage nowadays. The reasons explain themselves quite well: the director liked certain films as a kid and, wouldn't you know it, they want to do the same thing again. Of course there is a certain problem with bringing these movies in great numbers to theatres. Namely, that would anyone care to do a tribute tribute film? I think not in the case of a movie like this. Not only does it not provide the requisite scares or gore that are needed, it also has a weak script that provides none of the humor you would expect from a self aware director. Quite seriously, Slither is a film that has few redeeming qualities and suggests nothing new to the audience.

By "suggesting nothing new" I do not necessarily mean that in a philosophical sense(after all, many movies just hammer home old points). Rather, and I think this is the key, the film does not do anything above those other films that it adored so much. Fine, Alien and The Thing are enjoyable movies--curiously, they both suggest some interesting philosophical points--and I can understand why the director loved them, but I am shocked that his film would set its sights lower than those of the other movies. What makes something like Pulp Fiction or The Descent interesting is that they strive to go higher, to be better, than the movies that originally birthed them. Instead of simply accepting life as a B-Grade flick, they cast off the metaphorical leg-irons and try and do some interesting things(and, yes, those two examples did so nicely). Slither seems content in traversing through the muck of mediocrity and tribute without trying anything new or even caring. It's a film with an aesthetic and cinematic vision stuck long ago.

What really strikes me about this, the lack of innovation on almost any front in the film, is that its tribute denies the greatness of the other movies. What made them stand out from the rest of the crowd was that they, rather than some fondling nerd, had the vision to take their movie away from the gutters and spice it up with the needed changes the genre needed. This is not the case with this movie. It would rather let others create great works while it leeches, like the parasites in the movie, off the success of greater organisms. There is next to nothing truly worth considering for any length of time from this movie.

The Illusionist - 2006

2007-07-10T10:57:00.000-04:00

'There is truth in fiction' seems to be the cornerstone of this film. Of course granted the nature of this blog I am inclined to agree with that(why else should I even discuss texts at all). However, what is interesting to note is the direct manner used in the film at accessing 'the truth' contrasted with the ambiguous nature of the real movie. That is, Eisenheim(Edward Norton) has access to 'the truth' and shows it to the people for what it is. The movie, curiously, weaves a veil around itself so as not to provide all the answers. The stage inside of the film has the power to dispense true wisdom to the crowed(or, at the very least, what they want to see) but the stage that we viewed did not so alter us. 'The truth', then, cannot be provided for in such simple gestures.

I think it necessary to touch a bit more on the point of 'what people wanted to see'. An illusion ultimately comes down to tricking people into seeing something that is not true(perhaps even what they'd like to see). The ending supports this as Inspector Uhl(Paul Giamatti) thinks he's solved it but likely did not. However, where does that leave the viewer who is outside this trick and looking in? Are we just being shown what we'd like to see and not really 'the truth'? Is there anything behind the illusion or just the promise of something beyond it? The film, given its ending, does not answer any of these questions and leaves them to the audience to figure out on their own. While there is not necessarily something wrong with this, I find it curious that the film would wish to follow so closely the nature of illusions. That it seems so aware, the film that is, of its illusionary status, I am perhaps inclined to think that there might not be anything behind the curtain so to speak. People shall discuss the movie in due course, but it is likely that Oz is behind the curtain with nothing more to say.

In principle, as was the case with The Usual Suspects, I am against films that try and screw with you while not having much to back themselves up with. Hitchcock could get away with such things for a number of reasons and, to be forthright, I doubt they apply to this one. The great illusion with this film is its presentation of authority to the audience.

What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? - 1962

2007-07-09T12:16:00.000-04:00

Psycho meets Sunset Blvd. in this curiously strange film that borrows from both but uses its own special touch to be thoroughly unique. I shall explain what it is I mean by that comparison right now. Psycho, a film that has been discussed on this blog in some depth, destroyed much of the actual rigor that the Hayes code held over films. It allowed, to be blunt, directors and the movie industry to have more freedom than had been previously granted(I should think this only a good thing). Sunset Blvd., a classic piece of film noir, was mostly about degradation and obsession caused by having too great an attachment to the Hollywood structure. After all, and this comes from someone with a film blog, there is a big world out there not on the moving screen. Combined, and using two famous actresses, these films challenge the notions of conventional Hollywood and continue to break boundaries that had been allowed by Hitchcock.

Having 'Baby' Jane(Bette Davis) and Blanche Hudson(Joan Crawford) in the film instantly sets itself up in this regard: they are famous actresses playing in unconventional roles. Through this, it becomes understandably easy to view the film as a critique of the manner in which show business(in a general sense) treats those that are not needed anymore. They are pushed away into the shadows to deal with their own problems. The clapping does not go away but the thoughts--oh, they persist. Aging actresses really had this bad off in the day(and this, I think anyways, is not being unfair). Looks are perhaps more needed for the success of the starlet than anything else and, to be quite frank, this is grossly unfair. These two stars have gone through a great deal and, given the ending, we can see that neither one of them are totally innocent of the troubles that it has had on their lives. There is no easy answer here, and the film does not even try to solve it.

Note, too, how earlier in the film a Better Davis film(a real one) is criticized by the pungent director. One does not see the human element behind that, the person that goes into making these films. The studio, to a certain respect, wants a Baby Jane doll to be used as they please for the roles. Not someone that might have feelings or otherwise be upset(as is the case with the real one). The recurring image of that nightmarish child chills due to how real and close to the bone it is. She did send a letter to daddy(easy to see as a studio executive), but I wonder if he ever sent back anything? Money is all he wanted, and look at the results it had. In truth, the film almost loops itself by having Edwin Flagg(Victor Buono)--who has a most American name--is only interested in money. He never even called the police; he was happy just with sweeping them under the carpet and being done with it all.

The ending dance at the beach, I think anyways, is quite tragic to a certain degree. Nobody is truly innocent, and that is a frightening thought.

Hôhokekyo tonari no Yamada-kun(My Neighbors the Yamadas) - 1999

2007-07-08T11:55:00.000-04:00

This film, according to IMDB that is, was the first Studio Ghibli film to not use traditional animation cells. Most importantly, it was a pioneer into a brave new world that is without set guidelines or principles(one must play it by ear for instance). I think it self explanatory how the nature of the films creation might have some relevance to its own themes. However, I shall go into a bit more detail to explain more so what it is I exactly mean by that.

As is apparent simply from viewing, the movie takes standard sitcom conventions(the little skits) and throws them all together for a movie extravaganza. There is not a problem with that necessarily and, in this particular context, it is a melding of the old and new. The problems that face a family seem to go full circle throughout the film(note the film opening and closing with a wedding speech of sorts). Despite the fact that this is the modern age--expressed nicely through the animation style--those issues that face 'the family' still are there. And, most nicely, the film uses classical Haikus to pound home the fact into the mind of the viewer that these problems are not just recent. Rather, they have been around since humans(or nature if you will) decided that the familial structure was a good thing. They will always be there and, quite frankly, one must just accept that for what it is.

The only point in the entire film when the animation style alters from its style is when Mr. Yamada goes and confronts the motorcycle gang. This slight change is only for a moment, but it is certainly important in the larger whole of the movie. Consider, for instance, that motorcycles are a rather new invention and that the dad is doing something, I should think anyways, uncharacteristic of this character archetype. Given that, it is actually very funny with the animation style. He thinks himself worthy of this more "mature" style of animation but quickly finds himself locked back into place because, to be honest, he is not the type of person that would do this for himself. Visually the animation style locks everyone(for we are all neighbors of a sort) into a collective whole. Rather than alienate with its differing style, the film seeks to have everyone know one thing: we're all in this boat together and better just accept it.

One minor aspect of the film that particularly intrigued me--though I feel in some respects like Stephen at the wandering rocks--is the usage of the song "Que Sera Sera" at the end of the film. Hitchcock fans will note the importance of this film to family relations in The Man who knew too Much. The song, another instance of art, bound the family together and prevented them from being broken up by outside forces. This, I think, reinforces my argument about this particular film. However, there is a certain aspect of it that seems odd.

Snakes on a Plane - 2006

2007-07-06T19:53:00.000-04:00

The main reason that this film is worth writing about at this point is to note the irrelevant nature of Internet fads. More specifically, to consider how the perceived nature of something is not as interesting as the ultimate product. Preceding this film was, as I am sure some might recall, a certain degree of Internet discussion exposing how cool and popular it was. Really, this was an instant wherein it seems the yelling on collective forums did not equal the end product. One might very well have thought that this film, somehow, might become the highest grossing movie of all time. As is now understood, this is not the case.

Considering this, I find the invocation of the 'gamer culture' within the film to not only be pandering but also, more curiously, to contain a certain degree of contempt. This contempt I speak of is mostly imbued within the actions of those characters that play videogames within the film. They, most certainly, through this hobby are not interesting people, but they might become something better by applying themselves in an outlandish situation. In essence, all time wasted on this hobby is without merit unless it can be utilized somehow in a situation befitting the gaming context we are so used to. Frankly, considering how this film is marketed, I find this to be shocking and ill-conceived; why would the film subtly criticize those that are the primary audience?

Then, considering the above, I am forced to understand this movie as something of a failure. If it cannot make money simply due to its understood stupidity and it does nothing but pander and insult, I am left to think it not worth high merit. Indeed, I should have hoped there was more to this movie than one line, but it seems that I was mistaken. Intentionally stupid, this is certainly true, but I think even judged on this alone the film fails.

A Point of Order

2007-07-05T16:42:00.000-04:00

http://videogameanalysis.blogspot.com/

All pieces dealing with videogames have been moved to the above location. This has been done for two reasons:

1) For the sake of making it easier for people looking for videogame analysis via Google to stumble across my site.
2) I think constantly comparing videogames to movies and using critical approaches across forms is not necessarily for the best.

Hopefully I can keep both blogs churning away in the darkness at a good rate. Anyways, I hope to see you, noble reader, over at my new location for old essays.

Angst essen Seele auf(Ali: Fear eats the soul) - 1974

2007-06-24T20:25:00.001-04:00

Many films, or texts for that matter, that present a problem attempt within their own confines to solve it. That is, Guess who's Coming to Dinner? purports to show the true problems at the root of an issue(race, in that case) and showcase the answer(dogmatic, elderly folks). This certainly is not the case with this film. Rather than even try and solve the problem that it presents, the film(Ali: Fear eats the soul) shows it but does not provide a method upon which it can be solved. I find this to be unique, curiously intelligent and altogether arresting. Indeed, how could it be possible to solve the "foreigner problem" within just 90 minutes? It seems impossible. However, this is not to say that the film is not without merits. Just by showing the problem in its hydra headed form is enough to warrant viewing of this film and, more importantly for my purposes, further evaluation.

Implicating society at large for a problem is par for the course. Really, it is an answer that provides many targets yet they remain within an intangible nether world wherein they cannot be touched. Usually I am against such arguments on face value(it is beyond this post to discuss why), but I think it an apt point to make within the film. Truly, in the case of foreigners feeling ostracized from a society, everyone is either part of the problem or the solution. I should think that most would belong to the former category, and it does not necessarily reflect upon their own lacking of morals. Rather, as has been noted by many political philosophers, they do not have the self interest to become involved in the case. And that is what this film, through its careful, almost over-zealous focus on the main characters lives, achieves: it shows that one only cases about the problem or foreigners(and that might be extrapolated) unless someone you love or care about is involved. Perhaps it is overly cynical, but one only need look at the world and see that, though sad, this is the case.

Of course, this leads to a curious rub: how can a foreigner, almost by definition, be close to someone within the new country? In other words, how can they get someone from the locality in which they now stay to care about them? The almost outlandish manner in which they meet at the start of the film certainly could be taken at face value(if only people could know one another), but I think the film points out that only through the oddities of cinema can such things occur. Really, this is a movie that reminds us through such actions that this is just a movie and that the problems depicted, although serious, cannot be solved in conventional terms(the movie itself certainly provides no solid conclusion). And in that respect, by knowing that the problems cannot hoped to be solved(though they might be acknowledged) is an insight into how deep set the conundrum is. I should think that some effort can be made by those in the world to stop staring and try and begin addressing the issues at hand.

Speaking of which(staring), there is a fascinating article at Senses of Cinema. As always, I can only be a footnote to their great tome of information. I highly suggest that you, noble reader, go and read to your heart's content. There is more to this film than I have written of, but I doubt to do justice to the quiet poetry of it.

Borat - 2006

2007-06-14T22:15:00.000-04:00

This is a good summary of my thoughts on the film. I found this to be a farily bad film overall that thinks itself much grander than it actually is. Far be it from me to criticize a film with such insightful commentary in it.

However, one point was brought to my attention in the defense of the film that is perhaps worthy of discussion. The point is that the film "pushes boundaries" and that, while this film does not necessarily do a great job handling itself, it paves the way for other films. Indeed, this may very well be the case. In the future, it might entirely be possible for a movie to feature naked man wrestling in a context that is both funny and interesting. As it stands, I cannot truly think of anything noted in the film to be terribly worth considering. Truly this is a movie that milks one joke for hours while claiming itself to be so much higher(via "satire") than other films.

I wanted to write more about this movie, but it strikes me as unrelentingly stupid. I shall try to get a good post in the future. Lately it seems I have been writing less and less. Who knows, I might be building up for something?

Winchester '73 - 1950

2007-06-13T22:07:00.000-04:00

This film fits quite nicely into the trend of early fifties anti-westerns. The Searchers, although a confused film, is still in the same spirit of this and Shane(the best of the bunch). It is a curious backlash, in all truth, and I should truly like to understand it more. My understanding of the fifties and their sensibilities leads me to think that these anti-westerns are odd in the overall picture of the era. Perhaps I am under some sort of cruel dogma but I am at a loss. More research must be done on my part to further understand this trend.

The film itself, for all its interesting assets(Cain and Abel comparisons for instance), is best when viewed in the context of the moving gun--the so noted Winchester '73. The amount of glee and violence that people take to get a hold of this weapon is downright curious. Given how odd old westerns were, I find this to be of utmost interest. The single minded evil(obsession if you will) is most akin to what would later develop in Sergio Leone's westerns. The overall effect is most disconcerting.

L' Avventura - 1960

2007-06-10T13:24:00.000-04:00

What a great analysis of a complex film.

What frustrates me a great deal with this blog, and by extension my thinking on these films, is that usually when I get my thoughts straight about a film I find someone that does so better. More prodigious words are chosen in their effort to articulate what is in so much grey matter; ultimately, I do not stand a chance. I loathe, and I truly do, leaving my 'duty' to someone else, but if they say what I was going to say but in a more professional, skillful manner then I think it necessary to acquiesce to their might.

To compensate, I shall do a piece on Blowup without the aid of outside parties. Who knows, I might find something new within the picture so carefully examined.

My Neighbor Totoro - 1988

2007-06-10T13:15:00.000-04:00

I note this film not so much as something to discuss(I scurry away from analysis due to the age group targeted). However, I post this film as evidence--perhaps the best evidence of the Miyazaki films--for my claims made within my post dealing with Pan's Labyrinth. This is by no means a criticism of Miyazaki or his films but, rather, a point to be made about the claims made within one text and the reaction by a later director to those claims.

I find it fascinating when such inter-textual notions are done by talented directors.

Shadow of a Doubt - 1943

2007-06-04T15:46:00.000-04:00

Social commentary in a Hitchcock film is nothing new(I refer back to my post regarding Psycho). However, the manner in which it is delivered is most telling about what is going to be mentioned. Rather than focusing primarily at an institution, Shadow of a Doubt instead shifts its view--or rather the camera's eye--towards that of an "average" American town. Ultimately, through this shift in focus, Hitchcock is bringing the unthinkable fiction of cinema onto the shoulders to bear of normalcy. It is a film that comments on the supposed "pulp" nature that it is presenting within itself; indeed, Shadow of a Doubt is a film that shows why Hitchcock is referred to as the master.

Herbie(Hume Cronyn) and Joseph(Henry Travers) seem to be fans of his films. It does not take one with much perceptive abilities to note that their penchant for discussing the macabre seems well in line with Hitchcock's own diabolical(but all in good fun) tendencies. Still, as noted above, there is more functionality than that ingrained within their characters. Their discussions always air on the side of the comic; nobody in the film really takes their far fetched plans to kill one another seriously. However, their plans do have some truth to them through the actions of Uncle Charlie(Joseph Cotten). He fulfills, in a sense, their morbid sensations through his actions towards the younger Charlie(Teresa Wright). It is not a wish on their part for this to happen, but rather a fantasy made actual through the actions of the villainous Uncle. Hitchcock is likely showing how he bats ideas around for his films and, more importantly, is showing--quite obviously though--that the normal family would not necessarily want the fiction that they find appealing with them in their own home. However, this is the case with this film and that is where the fun begins.

Santa Rosa California, the city that this movie takes place in, seems almost too perfect to be believable. It is perhaps a city that seems more fit for fantasy than anything else. Until Uncle Charlie shows up, I should think that most people lead a somewhat dull existence in a expected manner in the quiet town. Peaceful if not perhaps odd. However, through the telepathic nature of the film(outlined very well here), Hitchcock is suggesting that there is an evil, or at least sinister underbelly to the quiet abode of the American town. Note the dark, sleazy bar that both Charlies go to in the end of the film--I doubt it a coincidence that there are American sailors acting in such a manner there. They are one of the images exported abroad to the rest of the world, and I think that Hitchcock wants us to see how "normal" average actually is.

Hitchcock, then, shows how a human might relish fantasy but ultimately deny it, also shows how the reality in which we dwell might not be as real as we think. I shall have to give this more thought. There is another article at the great Senses of Cinema that deals with Hitchcock and David Hume's philosophy and, perhaps a stretch, I wonder if such themes were already present within this film. However, regardless of that, this is an attempt at dispelling the myth of the peaceful, sleepy American town and it is done with typical suspense and zeal by the master. Like the great shot in the library, one cannot help but reel back from the truth noted(a surely loaded statement, but I like it nonetheless).

La Passion de Jeanne d'Arc(The Passion of Joan of Arc) - 1928

2007-05-29T20:22:00.000-04:00

A face can say so much without uttering a single word. Carl Dreyer, the director, utilizes one of the key elements of cinema--images. This seems like a rudimentary comment, perhaps even a dumb thing to say, but consider those numerous films that spend time telling through words what could be conveyed through images(the latter, of course, plays into the strengths of the moving picture).

As noted by many critics--and rightly so--there are no establishing shots in this movie. Its quick "jump into the action" allows for tension to build quickly and removes otherwise quaint scenes. It puts the viewer off edge, something to be further developed by the outlandish camera angles and bizarre facial contortions. The sheer lunacy of this film--that is, the scenes depicted--is aided by this early lack of developing shots. Also, the sets themselves lack any distinguishing characteristics; they all have a washed out, dull look to them. This is not a place to be proud of being. No, the hall that Joan(Maria Falconetti) is in does not allow for happiness in any form. That men of God would allow for such a drab, lifeless place to exist plays into the twisted nature of the scenes depicted within the film. Notice the erratic cuts that frequently occur in the film(perhaps best done during the torture sequence). This is not a rational world that Joan is in, it is not a world that allows her to be what she wants. Rather, it is a vile place filled with men that have bold distaste for her very existence.

The faces of the priests and Joan are what stick with the viewer long after viewing. No makeup was used to mask their faces; the grooves are those formed by God and time, both are quite interesting given the context of the film. The unfettered rage of the inquisitors towards Joan are shown to the audience in full force. This accomplishes multiple things by such a simple alteration(as opposed to, say, shooting the scene from a distance). The audience is granted additional rationale for identifying with Joan(certainly what the film wanted), and grants the nameless priests a more human quality. Although they are just "the priests", one comes to know them off the manner in which their skin is folded and the way shadows are cast of their face. A distinctly human element is added to otherwise inhuman characters. Although they should be frowned upon--to put it lightly--Dreyer does not want us to think of them as monsters. To do that would be as bad as what they did to Joan.

Predator - 1987

2007-05-24T22:07:00.000-04:00

These themes are all very interesting and worthy of serious consideration.

Well, not really. I feel much the same way about this film as Die Hard--it is a film that does not care about plot development or charcaters and, rather than focus time on them, prefers to have action. And really, this is not such a bad thing. Terrible are the action films that try and have charcters and fail in the process. This films knows what it wants and achieves it(the "want" is skull collecting alien bounty hunter that has a cool Stan Winston design). It is surely possible that the film wanted to explore themes(and it does have them in all fairness), but I do not think that the focus of the film is on that and, I think, anyone judging the film should not focus on it. This film is not great in the conventional sense, but it does show how effective a stupid film(a knowingly stupid film) can be.

The Manchurian Candidate - 1962

2007-05-22T21:38:00.000-04:00

Much of the value that this film is due to its placement within a historical context. JFK was killed the year after this film was released in what could be considered situations like those depicted in the film. I am not so much claiming that this is a "dated" film, though there are aspects of it that are, but I do point out to others(and myself) that its relevance politically is heightened while looked at historically. Some of its relevance has been lost, but this does not fully prevent it from being evaluated. Now, with that out of the way, I can move onto other points.

One of my main gripes with this film is the total wastefulness of Janet Leigh(Eugenie Rose Chaney) the actress. Quite simply, she fulfilled a character type and added so little to the overall feel of the film. Character types, I know, are present in almost all of fiction, but they usually have a function greater than being arm candy for Bennett Marco(Frank Sinatra). Sure, she does allow for him to not 'fall over the edge', but ultimately her character is something of a waste and does place the film in the silly station of the 50's and how they dealt with women in general. Although this might be in contradiction to what I said earlier, her character dates the film and makes me less able to take the film too seriously(this is, after all, a story that has broader implications than its characters onscreen). I find it sad that she must be 'the girl' instead of a real character(a loaded statement, I confess, but still worth saying).

Ultimately, this film makes it impossible to stop 'The Manchurian Candidate'. I mean, the only reason that Raymond Shaw(Laurence Harvey) was stopped was due to a random comment made at a bar, not because of anything done by Marco. So, even though one might try and stop these things with all their might, there is no 'true' hope of solving the issue. This is an odd stance to take considering that McCarthy was stopped and that, debate if you must, the government has not been taken over by a 'Manchurian Candidate'. So, even though it claims such a thing cannot be stopped, it is(and has been). Not that I can criticize a film for making a prophecy that does not come true(in full), but I think it worth pointing out that things have turned out (a little)better than what the film shows.

Apparently, this is the first film with a Karate Fight ever(I am not sure if this is true though). Hard to think that Sinatra would be involved in this piece of cinematic history.

Persona - 1966

2007-05-18T11:49:00.000-04:00

Ultimately, I am led to the conclusion that this films relates how "art" and "artists" attempt to depict life. This issue, while seeming so simple, is one of the most complex things surrounding "art" as a concept. How, for instance, does one really depict sadness or loss? Even a film that does it very well does not likely match how it really feels to anyone in reality. Is it even possible to do so? This films, I believe, says that art cannot fully and accurately depict what is going on in the world. Consider, for instance, when Elisabeth Vogler(Liv Ullmann) is watching scenes from the Vietnam war. She covers her mouth and cannot speak a word at all(more on this later). Seeing a man immolate himself is not something that can be depicted normally--it is too wrong and too cruel; it is too real. Showing it in a movie cannot hope to match how it really is, and this is argued to be a limitation of the form. A fear--and fear is central to this film--by Bergman towards the form as a whole.

As the movie poster for this film suggests, there is a curious relationship between Elisabeth and Alma(Bibi Andersson). As in Hour of the Wolf, there is a vein of vampirism(pun intended) throughout this work. Elisabeth literally feeds off Alma as, curiously, the actor/actress actually needs reality as a grounding point for their works. To be blunt, what would be the point of a story if it has no relation to reality at all? For a story to be effective, I should think that it must at least have some vague relationship to people's life. And, just as this "art" must have a relationship, so too must the actress/actor. The rub, of course, seems clear: if art cannot fully depict life but that it needs reality, what is the point of "art"? "Art", in the broad sense, seems like something that consumes reality and creates a mockery of it that cannot fully do justice to it. I am not sure if the film gives a clear answer to this question, but its acknowledgment of the issue is important enough. One can obviously see the tonal change towards "art" throughout the film--consider Alma's praise of it early on then her anger later.

Elisabeth's silence I take as representative of her recognition of the problem surrounding "art". It is almost comical, if we consider the problem to be actual, to even attempt at having a play. What would be the point of wearing make-up and speaking the lines? It does not help anyone, so why even do it? Really, it would be absurd to act or participate in a play at any level. Her silence, I think, is because she does not think that she can represent life anymore. However, it does not end there. She begins to observe Alma and, as noted above, feed off her to some extent. She finds herself trying to become real like Alma in hope, perhaps, of making her "art" better off. To become more real does not seem to be a possibility, but it does seem to be the ultimate goal for Elisabeth.

The splicing of scenes at the start and middle of the film strikes me as a showcase of conventional fears(a spider, sex, and other such items). This is contrasted with the unknown fear that "art", the great and powerful, might not be capable of actually depicting life, something that is so central to it. I think it an interesting and fascinating question that has been with "art" ever since its inception. After all, does it really have a point at all if it cannot depict life?

Das Testament des Dr. Mabuse(The Testament of Dr. Mabuse) - 1933

2007-05-17T13:19:00.000-04:00

Like M, this film contains a great deal of commentary about the rise of Nazism in Germany. It is no coincidence, I should think, Dr. Mabuse(Rudolf Klein-Rogge) sits scribbling in an asylum(prison) about the "empire of crime". This has quite clear similarities to, say, Mein Kemph--the crazy writing of Hitler(which I really should read). It seems clear enough, and I only touch on it briefly so that I make clear that Fritz Lang is developing themes that have been present in some of this earlier works. This, of course, is something worthy of note.

This film is quite notable as it is an early user of sound(other films prior had been silent). Many other reviews have noted the use of such things as the machinery in the first scene or the 'egg cracking'. These I think are good examples. However, for my purposes, I think I will focus on the bizarre and eerie sounds that Mabuse's ghost(I figure anyways) makes whenever he appears. Lang did not have much to go on here when he was trying to make a "scary" being, and I think it very interesting how he did it. The low, almost inaudible whispers in the background build and seem to from words--but that is probably not the case. It is a cacophonous collection of sounds that add up to a odd effect for the viewer. That first scene where Mabuse shows up is quite jarring(his eyes are really, really cool--that's why I chose the above poster), and the sound contributes to this. He's clearly insane, but only so in a deeply frightening manner.

Another interesting point to mention towards the film as an early 'talky', if you will, is how it has wrong messages throughout the picture. Consider the writing on the window, the speech coming from behind the curtain(Wizard of Oz?) and other confusions. An inability to speak "the truth" is, perhaps, at the center of this. In the end we really do not know exactly what happened in this film, and I figure that these little touches add towards it. And, also, I consider this as a reinforcement of Nazi criticism in the film. "The Truth" is prevented from fully being known, and I should think this falls in line with censorship(which the movie was) in any form.

Still, for a film that has so many good things in it, I wonder why the tacky romance is in it. It seems that even back then good movies were saddled with unnecessary oddities just for the sake of it. I have heard no good argument for why it should be there, and I can only assume it is there to relieve tension that the rest of the movie generates.