Saw A Brief History of Time, an Errol Morris documentary. It dovetails a biography of Stephen Hawking with a biography of the universe as understood by Hawking. His life is an interesting mix of triumph and pathos. The documentary closes with a stirring quote from Hawking, that if we could answer the question of why we exist, then that would be the ultimate triumph of human reasoning for then we should know the mind of god. This is juxtaposed with an image of the back of Hawking's wheelchair, set against a field of stars. His ironic vanity license plate and giant bulky speech synthesizers are placed in mute opposition to his grand words. They make him seem fragile and faintly ridiculous even while his words fire our imaginations.
Throughout the documentary, Hawking's illustrative physics metaphors are given dramatic weight by suddenly returning to Hawking's biography. He explains entropy by pointing out that we see teacups fall and shatter, but we never see the pieces reassemble into a teacup and leap up onto the table. The film shows a shattered teacup and then launches into the story of how Hawking finally lost his ability to speak. The imagery is clear. The teacup lays shattered. Hawking will not speak again. Later he tells us how he mistakenly believed that time would run backwards when the universe started collapsing. "It is no good waiting for the universe to collapse to return to our youth" he poignantly jokes.
But the film is not only gloomy ruminations on paralysis. There is also the science, which seemingly gives the whole thing a purpose (and also I loved the delightful super-nerds that surround Hawking.) We learn that, prior to the paralysis, Hawking was brilliant but directionless and indolent. It took the sickness to motivate him to work. His sickness and the nebulous death of the universe are symbolically linked in the film which seems to imply a great and vital journey for humankind. The film lacks a satisfying conclusion (which would be either a nice, soundbite-ready explanation of fundamental truths of the universe or, more simply, Hawking's death) but by ending here we go out on a high note. Fascinating usage of non-fiction in this film. This is the reason Errol Morris is so renowned.
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 27, 2014
Away We Go
Saw Away We Go. It was about this guy and girl, married and pregnant, trying to find a place to put down roots. They travel around North America, visiting friends and family and sampling the various cities they come across. The story is therefore of the road-trip archetype. They kind of rush from one place to another meeting hilariously awful people and running away from them. There's a lot of cameos from various strange people. They also deal with their baby-angst and their evolving relationship.
The central couple themselves are believable. She is sensible but fretful, he is silly but slightly obnoxious (they're having a daughter and on her father's behalf, I preemptively fear her terrible teenage scorn.) Together they are adorable and sweet. At the emotional climax, things do become a bit too treacly. This couple is in such good shape, all that's left is for them to reach out their hands and select a home from anywhere that they wish. They are poor, true, but they have enough to survive and are quirky and hip and awesome. So, we watch an already good situation merely improve.
The above are all complaints, but I liked the film nonetheless. It's really sweet and I guess I just wanted some sweetness. There's also some well-observed moments (contemplating the move, they worry about being fuck-ups. I feel the fear of being a fuck-up is the defining trait of a certain generation.) and there's a lot of really funny bits too. The first family they meet are ruled by this heinous woman who believes (for some reason) that her children cannot hear her and speaks freely about all the times she would have left her hubby but for the kids and the wedding vow. Later, she makes a move on the guy-main-character. Another couple is a parody of the Hathor Cow-Goddess types. They are creepy and sneeringly 'enlightened' and hilarious. They condemn them for not having a midwife before realizing that, as poor people, they of course couldn't have known any better. A lot of humor to be had here. Later, as I say, it becomes kinda twee, but it's a heck of a ride. (bonus Hathor!)
The central couple themselves are believable. She is sensible but fretful, he is silly but slightly obnoxious (they're having a daughter and on her father's behalf, I preemptively fear her terrible teenage scorn.) Together they are adorable and sweet. At the emotional climax, things do become a bit too treacly. This couple is in such good shape, all that's left is for them to reach out their hands and select a home from anywhere that they wish. They are poor, true, but they have enough to survive and are quirky and hip and awesome. So, we watch an already good situation merely improve.
The above are all complaints, but I liked the film nonetheless. It's really sweet and I guess I just wanted some sweetness. There's also some well-observed moments (contemplating the move, they worry about being fuck-ups. I feel the fear of being a fuck-up is the defining trait of a certain generation.) and there's a lot of really funny bits too. The first family they meet are ruled by this heinous woman who believes (for some reason) that her children cannot hear her and speaks freely about all the times she would have left her hubby but for the kids and the wedding vow. Later, she makes a move on the guy-main-character. Another couple is a parody of the Hathor Cow-Goddess types. They are creepy and sneeringly 'enlightened' and hilarious. They condemn them for not having a midwife before realizing that, as poor people, they of course couldn't have known any better. A lot of humor to be had here. Later, as I say, it becomes kinda twee, but it's a heck of a ride. (bonus Hathor!)
Jan 26, 2014
O Thiasos
Saw O Thiasos, a war film. It follows a troupe of traveling actors and musicians in Greece from 1939 to sometime in the late 40s. Things get rough. The most central character seems to be a woman whose mother and father are the leads of the group. She develops an intense hatred for one of the other actors after her mother cheats on her father with him. He rats the father out to the secret police, she rats him out to the rebels. We watch her turn from innocent naif to a hardened politico. Eventually, it starts to feel too pointless to her to continue to care this passionately and she starts up the troupe again.
This film is founded on the principal that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Dues are payed to the ravages of war of course. Several of the actors suffer greatly (or just die.) One becomes a raving, half-mad Marxist. Another recounts how he was broken, body and soul, in the POW camps. This suffering, we feel, cannot be meaningless, but over and over the film repeats the image of a sound-truck blaring slogans to re-elect Papagos (and later Papandreou.) The fascists, the communists, and the British occupation all surge back and forth, at one point literally claiming and reclaiming a street, seemingly only differentiated by the uniforms of their thugs.
I don't know why the film chose actors as our avatars. There's something interesting and meta-level going on here certainly. At two points the actors directly address the camera. The film opens with one of the actors introducing a play (in my innocence, I hoped this would be a lighthearted paean to show-business.) One of the actor-assassinations takes place on stage and the audience applauds, thinking it part of the show. The central woman is often an uninvolved spectator, present for no clear reason. Perhaps we are meant to understand that the actors, as stage-people, are allowed to pass behind the curtain (so to speak.) They only preform one play over and over (though we never see them get all the way through it) but this meshes with the cyclic nature of history that the film presents. The play is perhaps meant to be their culture as the old guard dies and is replaced by fresh youths.
An interesting film, but I must warn you it's 4 hours long. Tough to get through in one sitting, I wish I'd had someone to watch it with and to bounce ideas off of. Also, I'm getting sick of WW2 and Nazis. I fear for the sake of my poor patience if many more Nazi-films are in the pipeline.
This film is founded on the principal that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Dues are payed to the ravages of war of course. Several of the actors suffer greatly (or just die.) One becomes a raving, half-mad Marxist. Another recounts how he was broken, body and soul, in the POW camps. This suffering, we feel, cannot be meaningless, but over and over the film repeats the image of a sound-truck blaring slogans to re-elect Papagos (and later Papandreou.) The fascists, the communists, and the British occupation all surge back and forth, at one point literally claiming and reclaiming a street, seemingly only differentiated by the uniforms of their thugs.
I don't know why the film chose actors as our avatars. There's something interesting and meta-level going on here certainly. At two points the actors directly address the camera. The film opens with one of the actors introducing a play (in my innocence, I hoped this would be a lighthearted paean to show-business.) One of the actor-assassinations takes place on stage and the audience applauds, thinking it part of the show. The central woman is often an uninvolved spectator, present for no clear reason. Perhaps we are meant to understand that the actors, as stage-people, are allowed to pass behind the curtain (so to speak.) They only preform one play over and over (though we never see them get all the way through it) but this meshes with the cyclic nature of history that the film presents. The play is perhaps meant to be their culture as the old guard dies and is replaced by fresh youths.
An interesting film, but I must warn you it's 4 hours long. Tough to get through in one sitting, I wish I'd had someone to watch it with and to bounce ideas off of. Also, I'm getting sick of WW2 and Nazis. I fear for the sake of my poor patience if many more Nazi-films are in the pipeline.
Jan 25, 2014
Night of the Living Dead (1968)
Saw Night of the Living Dead, the 1968 version. It was the by now familiar tale of survivors banding together to stop the zombie horde, or at least survive the night. It hits all the right notes: unrelenting grimness, one of the survivors 'turning' after a little bite, telephone wires somehow cut, cars always low on gas, hands reaching through boarded-up windows. All of these have now become genre staples and so they seemed a bit worn out to me. But you must remember that this is the film all the subsequent films tried to copy, and the reason for that is that it all works together really well. Like the inner workings of a toilet, it is obvious, but only once you've seen it in action.
The film starts with a woman and a black dude (who actually survives quite a while) holed up in a farmhouse. She is so irritatingly shell-shocked by the zompocalypse that she can barely stop from breaking down (all women in this movie are completely useless, btw. Ah, the 60s. They were a simpler time.) He industriously tries to board up the house and gather information. Whereas his actions are more understandable to us as serene audience-members, as an armchair psychologist I think her reaction is the more realistic. I liked this mix of realism and story-necessitated fantasy. Rather than feeling like hedging, I feel it lets us eat our cake and have it too. Eventually they discover more survivors and try to gas up the car and we shift into the phase of the film where it looks like they might survive.
As per the zombie formula the plan goes slightly awry due (in part) to societal tensions which develop among the survivors. We become not only scared of the recently dead, but also of our friends, the soon-to-be dead. I've never been entirely comfortable with the zombie genre's emphasis on social paranoia, guns, and back-woods outposts. It's very fun to see the survivors building forts but less fun when they inevitably screw everything up in the third act. I think the frustration of seeing them fail is part of the shitty grimness of the zombie-movie but for once I'd like to see them live (and not in a "yes they lived, but the whole world is doomed" sort of way that I'm sure I've seen before.)
Edit: What the actual hilarious fuck Reader's Digest?
The film starts with a woman and a black dude (who actually survives quite a while) holed up in a farmhouse. She is so irritatingly shell-shocked by the zompocalypse that she can barely stop from breaking down (all women in this movie are completely useless, btw. Ah, the 60s. They were a simpler time.) He industriously tries to board up the house and gather information. Whereas his actions are more understandable to us as serene audience-members, as an armchair psychologist I think her reaction is the more realistic. I liked this mix of realism and story-necessitated fantasy. Rather than feeling like hedging, I feel it lets us eat our cake and have it too. Eventually they discover more survivors and try to gas up the car and we shift into the phase of the film where it looks like they might survive.
As per the zombie formula the plan goes slightly awry due (in part) to societal tensions which develop among the survivors. We become not only scared of the recently dead, but also of our friends, the soon-to-be dead. I've never been entirely comfortable with the zombie genre's emphasis on social paranoia, guns, and back-woods outposts. It's very fun to see the survivors building forts but less fun when they inevitably screw everything up in the third act. I think the frustration of seeing them fail is part of the shitty grimness of the zombie-movie but for once I'd like to see them live (and not in a "yes they lived, but the whole world is doomed" sort of way that I'm sure I've seen before.)
Edit: What the actual hilarious fuck Reader's Digest?
Jan 24, 2014
Jackie Brown
Saw Jackie Brown (thanks, Mike!) it was a Quentin Tarantino heist film. The indomitable Miss Brown, an ex-smuggling air hostess, sits coolly at the center of a labyrinthine plot involving a gun-running Samuel L Jackson, his stoned girlfriend and criminal friend, a bondsman and the good men at the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives. The heist is tense and revisited from several angles, so we can see from more and more omniscient viewpoints what, exactly, goes down. The film is fun and satisfying with a Swiss-watch feeling of exactness to its cuts and pans, but it also manipulates and shifts the audiences sympathies cleverly enough to tincture the fun with something interesting.
The film is not very heavy in Tarantino's quirks. Yeah, there's a single close-up of feet for no damn reason and old funk & RnB out the wazoo, but it's not nearly as self-indulgent as Deathproof was (no pretty women suffer ridiculously, for example.) True to form however, the film takes place smack-dab in the middle of a moral no man's land. Jackie is obviously conniving to keep as much as possible of a massive shipment of cash to herself. We start off in her corner. She seems, at first, like a tough but decent lady. Soon, however, she starts shifting alliances as easily as she changes outfits. She is sneaky and cut-throat, only redeeming herself when we see where her roulette wheel finally stops, and yet we are firmly on her side. I was really hoping she wouldn't wind up allied with Samuel L because he's the villain and I want to continue to like Jackie. But what has Sam done that's so wrong? If that money belongs to anyone it is him and he's only looking out for himself, as Jackie is. There's a feeling that Jackie doesn't want to hurt any more people than she has to, but she connives to murder sometimes and Sam's feelings for a downed comrade seem genuine.
I am perhaps forcing this moral relativism (it is my pet theory that that's what Tarantino is largely about, moral relativism) but I did sometimes felt sympathy for Sam and sometimes was uncomfortable with how easily Jackie manipulated everyone. Far from detracting, however, this adds some spice to the story which I believe is at heart a good old heist movie, full of fun and surprises. Who comes out on top is pretty much (though of course not totally!) a forgone conclusion, but it's so much fun seeing how they pull it off. It has shades of blaxploitation as well (look no farther than the title) and may be homage-ing things I don't know about. Ok. Enough. Good movie.
The film is not very heavy in Tarantino's quirks. Yeah, there's a single close-up of feet for no damn reason and old funk & RnB out the wazoo, but it's not nearly as self-indulgent as Deathproof was (no pretty women suffer ridiculously, for example.) True to form however, the film takes place smack-dab in the middle of a moral no man's land. Jackie is obviously conniving to keep as much as possible of a massive shipment of cash to herself. We start off in her corner. She seems, at first, like a tough but decent lady. Soon, however, she starts shifting alliances as easily as she changes outfits. She is sneaky and cut-throat, only redeeming herself when we see where her roulette wheel finally stops, and yet we are firmly on her side. I was really hoping she wouldn't wind up allied with Samuel L because he's the villain and I want to continue to like Jackie. But what has Sam done that's so wrong? If that money belongs to anyone it is him and he's only looking out for himself, as Jackie is. There's a feeling that Jackie doesn't want to hurt any more people than she has to, but she connives to murder sometimes and Sam's feelings for a downed comrade seem genuine.
I am perhaps forcing this moral relativism (it is my pet theory that that's what Tarantino is largely about, moral relativism) but I did sometimes felt sympathy for Sam and sometimes was uncomfortable with how easily Jackie manipulated everyone. Far from detracting, however, this adds some spice to the story which I believe is at heart a good old heist movie, full of fun and surprises. Who comes out on top is pretty much (though of course not totally!) a forgone conclusion, but it's so much fun seeing how they pull it off. It has shades of blaxploitation as well (look no farther than the title) and may be homage-ing things I don't know about. Ok. Enough. Good movie.
Jan 23, 2014
Inland Empire
Saw Inland Empire. It was amazing. David Lynch's films all take place in a sort of nightmarish nether-world. In the beginning of this film, a possibly crazy woman pays a call on her neighbor, a rich actress. Long awkward pauses and our sympathetic uncertainty about exactly when it's polite to kick out a crazy woman prepare us for the rest of this film. This film takes place in these anxious places where normal society just begins to break down. And then the crazy woman completely accurately predicts the future which we are suddenly in. (Notice, there's no big reveal that the crazy woman is psychic here. We may be inside her fantasy from now on, we may be seeing through the eyes of the bewitched actress, or possibly the woman predicted the future. This is yet more queasy, understated uncertainty.)
The plot (or rather, the lowest-hanging bits of the plot) follow the rich actress as she starts in a new movie. It turns out this movie is actually a remake of an ill-fated Polish film where the lead actor and actress were allegedly murdered. The actress begins to have feelings for her co-star, but her rich, jealous, mob-affiliated husband keeps a jealous eye on her. We think we see where this is going. But of course, no, now she's a poor woman living with her poor husband, now she's a whore indolently lounging on the floor of her tiny home, laughing fraternally with her whore-friends. Throughout it all we flash back to a Polish prostitute who is crying and watching a wierd TV show about rabbit-people. But the Polish prostitute may only be a character in a radio play. These stories intertwine and overlap in confusing, cryptic, ominous ways.
Everything in the film is repeated at least twice. The rabbits, for example, come up again in conversation: the actress's husband kept horses and rabbits for a circus. At the circus there is a man who would hypnotize the audience. There is a woman who claims to be hypnotized with orders to kill someone. This woman horrifyingly reveals she has a screwdriver stuck in her abdomen. The actress's husband invites his circus friends to a weenie roast, where he spills ketchup all over his abdomen. The film is full of meaningless dream-associative chains like this. There is a feeling of almost-logic to it which makes me feel deliciously as though I've lost my mind. David Lynch's films are like nightmares where nothing really makes sense and everything is vaguely unpleasant.
There's great fun to be had arguing interpretations of what's "realy" going on in Lynch's films (I personally believe this film to be the Polish prostitute's fantasy, borne of feelings of rage and envy stirred by an insipid cheating-on-hubby drama she was watching on TV.) but I think they are really best enjoyed with the mystery fully intact. Just enjoy the confusion, the hostile world of conspiracies and omens. They are sensual and terrible and wonderfully rewarding.
The plot (or rather, the lowest-hanging bits of the plot) follow the rich actress as she starts in a new movie. It turns out this movie is actually a remake of an ill-fated Polish film where the lead actor and actress were allegedly murdered. The actress begins to have feelings for her co-star, but her rich, jealous, mob-affiliated husband keeps a jealous eye on her. We think we see where this is going. But of course, no, now she's a poor woman living with her poor husband, now she's a whore indolently lounging on the floor of her tiny home, laughing fraternally with her whore-friends. Throughout it all we flash back to a Polish prostitute who is crying and watching a wierd TV show about rabbit-people. But the Polish prostitute may only be a character in a radio play. These stories intertwine and overlap in confusing, cryptic, ominous ways.
Everything in the film is repeated at least twice. The rabbits, for example, come up again in conversation: the actress's husband kept horses and rabbits for a circus. At the circus there is a man who would hypnotize the audience. There is a woman who claims to be hypnotized with orders to kill someone. This woman horrifyingly reveals she has a screwdriver stuck in her abdomen. The actress's husband invites his circus friends to a weenie roast, where he spills ketchup all over his abdomen. The film is full of meaningless dream-associative chains like this. There is a feeling of almost-logic to it which makes me feel deliciously as though I've lost my mind. David Lynch's films are like nightmares where nothing really makes sense and everything is vaguely unpleasant.
There's great fun to be had arguing interpretations of what's "realy" going on in Lynch's films (I personally believe this film to be the Polish prostitute's fantasy, borne of feelings of rage and envy stirred by an insipid cheating-on-hubby drama she was watching on TV.) but I think they are really best enjoyed with the mystery fully intact. Just enjoy the confusion, the hostile world of conspiracies and omens. They are sensual and terrible and wonderfully rewarding.
Jan 22, 2014
Eagle vs Shark
Saw Eagle vs Shark, a quirky hipster/indie romantic comedy set in New Zealand. It follows the romance of the man-child Jarred and the saintly but kind of lame Lily. The film opens by showing Lily's infatuation with the be-mullet-ed Jarred. She is attracted because he has a mole just above his lip, just like she does. Eventually, he becomes interested with her after witnessing her natural ability at a Mortal Combat-style game called "Fighting Man." Everyone in the film are nice people who are sort of terrible at what they do. Lily's brother is a cartoonist who is not funny and can't draw. Lily is fired quickly from her job at a fast food joint. Jarred works at a movie store and clearly sees himself as a sensitive ninja/stud. Much comedy is mined from Jarred's delusions.
The dialogue throughout the whole film is sort of flat and emotionless. This dead-pan delivery is familiar to anyone who's seen Flight of the Concords and which I guess is part of the New Zealand culture or something ( this is based on the, like, three non-Peter-Jackson things I've seen that were from New Zealand.) Everything's very quirky. There's also stop-motion interludes following the adventures of the two apple-cores. Very twee and cute. I really don't mind these twee indie films. I'd rather watch a film drip with artificial sincerity than with equally fake, pat, glibness.
A cute little movie, I would recommend it to anyone who enjoyed Napoleon Dynamite (which, I think, this movie is heavily copying/referencing.) There's a touch more pain in this one, but there's more romance too.
The dialogue throughout the whole film is sort of flat and emotionless. This dead-pan delivery is familiar to anyone who's seen Flight of the Concords and which I guess is part of the New Zealand culture or something ( this is based on the, like, three non-Peter-Jackson things I've seen that were from New Zealand.) Everything's very quirky. There's also stop-motion interludes following the adventures of the two apple-cores. Very twee and cute. I really don't mind these twee indie films. I'd rather watch a film drip with artificial sincerity than with equally fake, pat, glibness.
A cute little movie, I would recommend it to anyone who enjoyed Napoleon Dynamite (which, I think, this movie is heavily copying/referencing.) There's a touch more pain in this one, but there's more romance too.
Jan 21, 2014
Cries and Whispers
Saw Cries and Whispers, an Ingar Bergman film. He is in full-on inscrutable lady mode with this one, but let us attempt a bit of scrutiny anyway. The film surrounds four women: Anna the maid, Karin the eldest sister, Maria the youngest, and Agnes the deathly ill middle sister. They have a strange, intense relationship together and we come to know each in a series of vignette-ish flashbacks. Anna has lost her daughter at a young age and has seemingly transferred her matronly feelings onto the dying Agnes. Maria is a doll-like woman who affects an innocent, winsome facade, masking sophisticated dissipation. Karin has become disgusted with the impersonal nature of her marriage and transfers this disgust onto all things which seem 'nice' on the surface. She therefore retreats into an intense but undirected cruelty. Agnes is sweet but is dying in a ghastly, visceral way.
Agnes, we see, has sweetly believed her sisters to be good, loving people. As Agnes dies however, their inner demons (which seemed to be held in check purely for Agnes' sake) are let out to play. There is an intelligent idea here about the deluded nature of the sister Agnes. Her sisters are clearly not the loving duo she imagines, but her fantastic idea of them becomes reality, purely by its own virtue. Bergman eventually introduces a miracle (in the straight-faced, magical-realism way he likes to do (see also Fanny and Alexander, which post-dates this film)) which further reenforces the fact of Agnes' sisterly delusions. Only the discounted Anna remains kind and faithful but her attachment, I feel (and believe I am meant to feel,) is transferred, morbid, and unnatural.
The color red must also be talked about. The film is almost all red. Fades to red indicate beginnings and ends of scenes, Maria attempts to seduce a doctor clad in a red dress, red wine and blood figure heavily in Karin's flashback, Agnes is confined to a red bed, and the entire house is carpeted, wallpapered, draped in bright red. It's difficult to identify any specific interpretation for all this red however, because red is the color that everything lives in. Perhaps it is femininity? Or morbidity? Bits of white appear here and there which I believe indicate purity or mercy and some black too which predictably indicates severity. Perhaps the red just as predictably indicates passion, or danger? This one I have to leave to the actual critics.
An interesting film, it could easily launch entire papers into many topics. It's not overtly engaging or moving, but it is striking and heady. A potent mix of ideas.
Agnes, we see, has sweetly believed her sisters to be good, loving people. As Agnes dies however, their inner demons (which seemed to be held in check purely for Agnes' sake) are let out to play. There is an intelligent idea here about the deluded nature of the sister Agnes. Her sisters are clearly not the loving duo she imagines, but her fantastic idea of them becomes reality, purely by its own virtue. Bergman eventually introduces a miracle (in the straight-faced, magical-realism way he likes to do (see also Fanny and Alexander, which post-dates this film)) which further reenforces the fact of Agnes' sisterly delusions. Only the discounted Anna remains kind and faithful but her attachment, I feel (and believe I am meant to feel,) is transferred, morbid, and unnatural.
The color red must also be talked about. The film is almost all red. Fades to red indicate beginnings and ends of scenes, Maria attempts to seduce a doctor clad in a red dress, red wine and blood figure heavily in Karin's flashback, Agnes is confined to a red bed, and the entire house is carpeted, wallpapered, draped in bright red. It's difficult to identify any specific interpretation for all this red however, because red is the color that everything lives in. Perhaps it is femininity? Or morbidity? Bits of white appear here and there which I believe indicate purity or mercy and some black too which predictably indicates severity. Perhaps the red just as predictably indicates passion, or danger? This one I have to leave to the actual critics.
An interesting film, it could easily launch entire papers into many topics. It's not overtly engaging or moving, but it is striking and heady. A potent mix of ideas.
Jan 20, 2014
The Thief of Bagdad
Saw The Thief of Bagdad, a 1940s film set in Persia, though of course really set in the nowhere-in-particular of Kipling's Just So stories. The film is a special effects driven story of adventure and so forth. It follows the Prince-become-beggar Ahmad and his far more competent boy-assistant, Abu. The prince Ahmad had been deposed by his evil vizier Jaffar. Jaffar and he both lust for the same princess (who isn't even given a name. In the credits it's just 'Princess') who is the daughter of a silly and childlike sultan who loves gadgets and toys. There's also a genie who grants wishes. All of these may ring a bell.
The film is kind of racist in parts (the prince is the most Caucasian-looking Indian beggar I've ever seen, but he has heavy eye-liner so, y'know, no one can tell. Abu, who is actually Indian, is never given props for bailing everyone out over and over again.) but then what do you expect? Especially of the 40s and this Orientalist story. The special effects are also a bit dated. They rely on sword-under-the-armpit technology and a blue-screen technique that makes many composite shots look like the holograms in Star Wars.
Largely however, the film holds up. It's a light and ripping yarn, so long as you accept that this "Persia" is supposed to be synonymous with Oz and Neverland, and is any way a lot of campy fun. Very imaginative and pretty (in a technicolor kind of way,) it yields noble princes, sneering villains, and happy endings. There's also some bit about the belief in the impossible that could be used as a launching point for a discursion on fiction and fantasy, but I'll spare you. Also there's a lot of nude male torso and boob-windows for all, so it's got that going for it. Which is nice.
Edit: Hah! Boob-window trivia: the production had to move to Hollywood halfway through filming because of the Blitz. The Hollywood shots closed the boob-windows to satisfy the Hayes office. So you can tell the studio location of any shot by the amount of cleavage showing!
The film is kind of racist in parts (the prince is the most Caucasian-looking Indian beggar I've ever seen, but he has heavy eye-liner so, y'know, no one can tell. Abu, who is actually Indian, is never given props for bailing everyone out over and over again.) but then what do you expect? Especially of the 40s and this Orientalist story. The special effects are also a bit dated. They rely on sword-under-the-armpit technology and a blue-screen technique that makes many composite shots look like the holograms in Star Wars.
Largely however, the film holds up. It's a light and ripping yarn, so long as you accept that this "Persia" is supposed to be synonymous with Oz and Neverland, and is any way a lot of campy fun. Very imaginative and pretty (in a technicolor kind of way,) it yields noble princes, sneering villains, and happy endings. There's also some bit about the belief in the impossible that could be used as a launching point for a discursion on fiction and fantasy, but I'll spare you. Also there's a lot of nude male torso and boob-windows for all, so it's got that going for it. Which is nice.
Edit: Hah! Boob-window trivia: the production had to move to Hollywood halfway through filming because of the Blitz. The Hollywood shots closed the boob-windows to satisfy the Hayes office. So you can tell the studio location of any shot by the amount of cleavage showing!
Jan 19, 2014
Hard Boiled
Saw Hard Boiled (Thanks, Basil!) It opens on a cop named Tequila, undercover as a jazz musician, staking out a tea-house where an arms deal is about to go down. He comments to his partner that this is just like a cop movie. This, my friends, is a giant flashing neon sign indicating that this is going to be the epitome of a cop movie. It knows it and now we know it. There'll be crooked cops (actually no, because this is China,) weaselly informants, a tortured romance, a loose cannon cop, and all the gun fights you could ask for. There's also a one-eyed super-assassin (which was directly referenced in Kill Bill.) Sure enough, the stakeout immediately becomes a protracted gun-battle which demolishes the teashop and kills dozens of anonymous gangsters, cops, and bystanders.
The plot (which doesn't really matter anyway) follows the loose-cannon cop as he tries to take down a gun-running gang. In the gang is a maybe undercover cop / maybe informant whom he butts heads with. This takes them to a hospital where a climactic showdown will occur. At this point, I paused the film and got a snack. When I got back, I noticed that there was still about a third of the film left. Well, I thought, I guess there's a protracted epilogue after the climactic battle. I was wrong. Like the average pig, this film climaxes for about half an hour. What at first seems like a straightforward showdown turns into a hostage situation and then into a hospital-wide shooting gallery and then into a disaster movie where babies (why not orphans? Just go the whole hog.) are being lifted out of burning windows by a SWAT team. It's madness.
This is an action movie's action movie. Stupid, simple and glorious. I enjoyed its grand excess. This would be a good party-movie. It's ridiculous, but it knows it.
The plot (which doesn't really matter anyway) follows the loose-cannon cop as he tries to take down a gun-running gang. In the gang is a maybe undercover cop / maybe informant whom he butts heads with. This takes them to a hospital where a climactic showdown will occur. At this point, I paused the film and got a snack. When I got back, I noticed that there was still about a third of the film left. Well, I thought, I guess there's a protracted epilogue after the climactic battle. I was wrong. Like the average pig, this film climaxes for about half an hour. What at first seems like a straightforward showdown turns into a hostage situation and then into a hospital-wide shooting gallery and then into a disaster movie where babies (why not orphans? Just go the whole hog.) are being lifted out of burning windows by a SWAT team. It's madness.
This is an action movie's action movie. Stupid, simple and glorious. I enjoyed its grand excess. This would be a good party-movie. It's ridiculous, but it knows it.
Jan 18, 2014
The Thin Blue Line
Saw The Thin Blue Line, a documentary about the investigation of a cop killing. There are two major characters: Harris and Adams. We know Adams got charged with the crime, but we are told by the film that Harris actually did it. It lays out a convincing case, relying on interviews with lawyers and cops. There's much conflicting evidence. Like the prosecutor of a case, the film seeks to establish ugly motive: the D.A. had an unblemished record, Adams was only a drifter anyway, and finally (and ugliest of all) the cops wanted blood and Harris was simply too young to be executed whereas Adams was of a sufficient age.
The self-righteousness of the men who put Adams away is maddening, contrasted with the compelling doubt thrown by the film. We know Harris had robbed and killed before and since, that Adams had never been in trouble with the law before. We know that the car was stolen from Harris's neighbor, as was the gun. We know that the eye-witness testimony was given by an overly-mascara-ed woman with an addiction to mystery novels who was likely bought off. And yet the judge in charge of the case recounts how the closing argument of the D.A. about how cops are the "thin blue line" separating order from chaos was so moving that it near brought a tear to his eye. In general there's a lot of ugliness on the part of the law and the powers that be. The defense attorney is smeared by the local press as being an east-coast, civil-liberties type (this takes place in Texas, btw) and one hilariously editorialized headline reads "Cop Killer Appeals Conviction." Deeply frustrating.
We have to be a bit careful though. Documentaries are very good at making us feel informed when we've only heard a carefully selected subset of the facts (just talk to anyone who's just seen Loose Change, or Zeitgeist.) We run the risk of becoming like Adams's jury, easily swayed by a simple story, or like the shady eye-witness, seeing conspiracy and mystery behind every corner. Have I happily swallowed an invented story of southern hick-ery and cop-ly power-abuse just because it makes me feel smart? The film pioneered the use of dramatic reenactment which can serve to emphasize otherwise trivial events. A shot of the two men being stopped by the doomed cop is repeated with almost every combination of who was in the car and who was driving. It feels fair, but it may not be. Well that's the fun of documentaries, I guess.
The self-righteousness of the men who put Adams away is maddening, contrasted with the compelling doubt thrown by the film. We know Harris had robbed and killed before and since, that Adams had never been in trouble with the law before. We know that the car was stolen from Harris's neighbor, as was the gun. We know that the eye-witness testimony was given by an overly-mascara-ed woman with an addiction to mystery novels who was likely bought off. And yet the judge in charge of the case recounts how the closing argument of the D.A. about how cops are the "thin blue line" separating order from chaos was so moving that it near brought a tear to his eye. In general there's a lot of ugliness on the part of the law and the powers that be. The defense attorney is smeared by the local press as being an east-coast, civil-liberties type (this takes place in Texas, btw) and one hilariously editorialized headline reads "Cop Killer Appeals Conviction." Deeply frustrating.
We have to be a bit careful though. Documentaries are very good at making us feel informed when we've only heard a carefully selected subset of the facts (just talk to anyone who's just seen Loose Change, or Zeitgeist.) We run the risk of becoming like Adams's jury, easily swayed by a simple story, or like the shady eye-witness, seeing conspiracy and mystery behind every corner. Have I happily swallowed an invented story of southern hick-ery and cop-ly power-abuse just because it makes me feel smart? The film pioneered the use of dramatic reenactment which can serve to emphasize otherwise trivial events. A shot of the two men being stopped by the doomed cop is repeated with almost every combination of who was in the car and who was driving. It feels fair, but it may not be. Well that's the fun of documentaries, I guess.
Jan 16, 2014
Gigantic
Saw Gigantic, didn't understand it. Here's what happens: Brian is 28 and works as a luxury mattress salesman. He desperately wants a Chinese baby. He meets Harriet (AKA "Happy") whom he falls in love with. She's a rich girl who keeps her emotions hidden behind a wall of socially acceptable quirk and un-inflected declarative statements. Her dad is some kind of graceless plutocrat and her mom is absent and maybe slightly crazy. Brian's dad is a delightful old loon who makes grand speeches and is confused by the lack of bourbon around a modern office. He has a retiring (also elderly) mother and two brothers that look twice his age and behave more like uncles to him. Somehow everyone knows how to speak some combination of French, Chinese, and Japanese and for some damn reason Brian is being hunted (Yes, hunted. With a gun.) by some homeless guy. There's also a guy who does psych experiments on lab-rats who Brian is friends with.
The preceding makes it sound like this movie is a crazy mess but most of it is taken up with a will-they-or-won't-they romance between Brian and Harriet. Long calm talks are held between quick dinner-parties and various inexplicable scenes (in one scene Brian's brother discusses the institution of marriage with his his Japanese friends as they all enjoy a relaxing hand job together) I kind of don't care about their romance unfortunately because both people are completely withdrawn. Why does Brian want a Chinese baby? Nobody really knows or cares. They have guesses and kind of accept that he probably has benign intentions but he never explains (or is even asked, I think.) Harriet is pretty transparently scared by real life and isn't sure if she just wants to accept being an unemployed flibbertigibbet or actually make something of herself. Poor little rich girl.
There's thematic reasons to believe this is a movie about going with the flow vs fighting back, but not strong ones. There's also strong indications that the mysterious hunting bum is imaginary which I don't know what to make of. One possible explanation is that this film is just messy for the sake of messiness and has no real meaning beyond "what a bunch of strange stuff, huh?" This is dissatisfying to me but I can't think of anything else. Well, off to read some real criticism I guess.
Edit: looks like the real critics have largely also thrown in the analytic towel. Too bad. Oh well.
The preceding makes it sound like this movie is a crazy mess but most of it is taken up with a will-they-or-won't-they romance between Brian and Harriet. Long calm talks are held between quick dinner-parties and various inexplicable scenes (in one scene Brian's brother discusses the institution of marriage with his his Japanese friends as they all enjoy a relaxing hand job together) I kind of don't care about their romance unfortunately because both people are completely withdrawn. Why does Brian want a Chinese baby? Nobody really knows or cares. They have guesses and kind of accept that he probably has benign intentions but he never explains (or is even asked, I think.) Harriet is pretty transparently scared by real life and isn't sure if she just wants to accept being an unemployed flibbertigibbet or actually make something of herself. Poor little rich girl.
There's thematic reasons to believe this is a movie about going with the flow vs fighting back, but not strong ones. There's also strong indications that the mysterious hunting bum is imaginary which I don't know what to make of. One possible explanation is that this film is just messy for the sake of messiness and has no real meaning beyond "what a bunch of strange stuff, huh?" This is dissatisfying to me but I can't think of anything else. Well, off to read some real criticism I guess.
Edit: looks like the real critics have largely also thrown in the analytic towel. Too bad. Oh well.
Jan 15, 2014
Partie de Campagne
Saw Partie de Campagne, a short fable-like story about a shopkeeper's family vacationing in the country. They come loaded with bourgeois pretensions and are despised by the locals, first for wanting fish for dinner (a dish so common it is only fit for cats and townies) and later for wanting a picnic (such a hassle, only an entitled city-dweller would demand it.) Two country boys (a rake of the 40s era and his friend) take a shine to the wife and daughter of the shopkeeper. The daughter is affianced to an absurdly wimpy twit (who seems overly excited about fishing poles (make of that what you will)) but this is of no account to the rake and his slightly-unwilling friend. The two guys and the family interact over the course of the day, sometimes as part of an understood mutual exploitation, sometimes as a sort of symbiosis.
The film is quite short (38 minutes, including credits) and is structured as a sort of farce (look no further than the wimpy fiance, the fat twittering mother) so the team with the most money ultimately wins this little spar. It is not as mean-spirited as you might suppose though. A nice little vignette.
The film is quite short (38 minutes, including credits) and is structured as a sort of farce (look no further than the wimpy fiance, the fat twittering mother) so the team with the most money ultimately wins this little spar. It is not as mean-spirited as you might suppose though. A nice little vignette.
Jan 14, 2014
The Fugitive
Saw The Fugitive. It was a pretty ripping action film, about a falsely accused man on the run from Johnny Law and hunting down the real culprit. It's based pretty closely (I think) off of the show of the same name. There's a bunch of fairly spectacular action scenes (early on there's a train wreck that's pretty kick-ass) and chase scenes come thick and fast. In the rare moments when the film settles down and has the fugitive doing some actual detective work, or when he's out-foxing the clever (or at least shouty) cops on his tail, it's pretty fun. Less fun for me were the needless and endless chase scenes. Also, when the motive of the true killer is revealed, it's not very believable. I kept thinking that there had to be some way apart from murder to accomplish the same goal. So okay, the film's plot is a little flimsy but, as I say, the action scenes are pretty good, so the film succeeds in being a good action film. Now if only I liked action movies...
Bonus fun: it's very entertaining to imagine that the film is a David Lynch-esque story of a paranoid schizophrenic. This pays off in scenes where he furtively feeds guns into a mailbox, or begins randomly shoving people, or raves in a wild-eyed manner about drugs in front of crowds.
Bonus fun: it's very entertaining to imagine that the film is a David Lynch-esque story of a paranoid schizophrenic. This pays off in scenes where he furtively feeds guns into a mailbox, or begins randomly shoving people, or raves in a wild-eyed manner about drugs in front of crowds.
Jan 13, 2014
Tree of Life
Saw Tree of Life (thanks, Steven!) It was a beautiful film. Very spiritual, it revolves around the oldest son of a family of three boys growing up. His mother is kind and loving, his father strict and disciplining. The mother comes off in a better light than the father, but it is clear the father is strict only out of a deep desire for his sons to succeed. This story is set within a larger frame in which we know the son will die young. This frame is also set within a yet larger frame of our place in the history of this planet and in the universe. This frame of reference is so vast it threatens to render all human action as insignificant, but the film attempts instead to cast this as an elaborate plan which, rather than being coldly indifferent to us, forgives us and loves us. As I say, a deeply spiritual film.
I've previously called films 'operatic' when I meant 'histrionic' but this film is operatic in a better sense of the word. It's beautiful and swooning, complex and layered. The film scores several scenes with classical music and it feels earned, rather than pretentious as it does in weaker films. At its best the film is oblique and touching, like when one brother gets another to forgive him. At its worst it is kind of obvious, as in the closing shots of some kind of heaven of people walking on a beach as birds fly overhead. There's also some stuff slightly disconcerting flying around in time. For a while we follow a grown-up version of one of the boys (I think) but possibly the one who dies? It gets a bit confusing, but this film is not a narrative, it is poetry and my failure of analysis is anyway trumped by my sensual enjoyment of the film.
The film is directed by Terrence Malick and he indulges in his usual slightly dream-like cinematography. There are several slow pans across beautiful vistas and whispery voice-overs galore (this is kind of a problem in fact. I sometimes wished I had subtitles.) He does make a pretty film though. I might have to make a point of watching more of his films.
I've previously called films 'operatic' when I meant 'histrionic' but this film is operatic in a better sense of the word. It's beautiful and swooning, complex and layered. The film scores several scenes with classical music and it feels earned, rather than pretentious as it does in weaker films. At its best the film is oblique and touching, like when one brother gets another to forgive him. At its worst it is kind of obvious, as in the closing shots of some kind of heaven of people walking on a beach as birds fly overhead. There's also some stuff slightly disconcerting flying around in time. For a while we follow a grown-up version of one of the boys (I think) but possibly the one who dies? It gets a bit confusing, but this film is not a narrative, it is poetry and my failure of analysis is anyway trumped by my sensual enjoyment of the film.
The film is directed by Terrence Malick and he indulges in his usual slightly dream-like cinematography. There are several slow pans across beautiful vistas and whispery voice-overs galore (this is kind of a problem in fact. I sometimes wished I had subtitles.) He does make a pretty film though. I might have to make a point of watching more of his films.
Jan 12, 2014
Antichrist
Saw Antichrist. It was a sumptuously grotesque film. It opens with a male therapist having sex with his wife (who has some unspecified, grad-studentish, academic position.) While they're going at it, their toddler son falls out a window to his death. The wife takes the accident especially hard and most of the film revolves around her therapy at the hands of her super-analytical husband.
The falling-out-the-window/sex scene is shot in black and white, with slow-motion and operatic background music. It seems like the height of sophistication. Later in the film, we retreat further and further from this sophistication. The wife begins suffering from anxiety attacks, in her grief, and has a sort of reverse pregnancy. First she is coached on how to breathe to stave off the attacks, a few nights later she starts vomiting and lastly they have strange pale sex. As she progresses, she gets worse and worse, eventually developing a phobia of nature. The therapist husband declares that they must go back to a cabin (called Eden, of course. The religious symbolism comes thick and fast.) to confront her fear of nature (again, the retreat from civilization. Later still in the movie, things get more brutish.)
As anyone who's seen the preview knows, the film is supposed to be very morbid and off-putting. In this the film succeeded for me, though its take on the infernal is of a Brueghelian sort. It's not exactly scary, more eerie and surreal. The husband often will stumble upon grotesque tableaux: a deer with a fetus half-way outside of it, a fox which appears to be eating its own stomach. The wife will often mumble ominous lines: "darkness comes early around here." "Nature is Satan's church." There's a few gory scenes (I invite you to peruse the plot keywords on imdb,) but clearly these are not supposed to be the main source of your discomfort. You have to buy into the morbidity a bit to make it work or it will all seem a bit melodramatic and silly. I was willing to do this, but I think many critics were not. I suspect that if I had seen this with my sarcastic friends, the film would not have held up so well.
The film eventually reveals that the nature the wife is terrified of is specifically human nature and, even more specifically, her own human nature. The film unfortunately indulges in some magical nonsense (albeit very stylish nonsense) near the end. In fact, the very ending of the film left me completely bewildered. The film felt strongest to me on the train to the cabin. You can't exactly tell what's going on but it's weird and interesting.
The falling-out-the-window/sex scene is shot in black and white, with slow-motion and operatic background music. It seems like the height of sophistication. Later in the film, we retreat further and further from this sophistication. The wife begins suffering from anxiety attacks, in her grief, and has a sort of reverse pregnancy. First she is coached on how to breathe to stave off the attacks, a few nights later she starts vomiting and lastly they have strange pale sex. As she progresses, she gets worse and worse, eventually developing a phobia of nature. The therapist husband declares that they must go back to a cabin (called Eden, of course. The religious symbolism comes thick and fast.) to confront her fear of nature (again, the retreat from civilization. Later still in the movie, things get more brutish.)
As anyone who's seen the preview knows, the film is supposed to be very morbid and off-putting. In this the film succeeded for me, though its take on the infernal is of a Brueghelian sort. It's not exactly scary, more eerie and surreal. The husband often will stumble upon grotesque tableaux: a deer with a fetus half-way outside of it, a fox which appears to be eating its own stomach. The wife will often mumble ominous lines: "darkness comes early around here." "Nature is Satan's church." There's a few gory scenes (I invite you to peruse the plot keywords on imdb,) but clearly these are not supposed to be the main source of your discomfort. You have to buy into the morbidity a bit to make it work or it will all seem a bit melodramatic and silly. I was willing to do this, but I think many critics were not. I suspect that if I had seen this with my sarcastic friends, the film would not have held up so well.
The film eventually reveals that the nature the wife is terrified of is specifically human nature and, even more specifically, her own human nature. The film unfortunately indulges in some magical nonsense (albeit very stylish nonsense) near the end. In fact, the very ending of the film left me completely bewildered. The film felt strongest to me on the train to the cabin. You can't exactly tell what's going on but it's weird and interesting.
Jan 11, 2014
Paper Heart
Saw Paper Heart. It was a quirky comedy/documentary. This comedian Charlyne Yi feels like she's incapable of feeling love. So she interviews several characters on the subject (a quicky-marriage Elvis, a married pair of divorce attorneys, kids, some dude who's singing a song about love in a night-club, etc.) Some of the interviews are animated via hand-made puppets. It's very cute and whimsical. It's hard not to let your heart melt when adorable old couples wax rhapsodic about their love, or when children give adorably nonsense answers to her questions (what's a perfect date? "You need to take somebody to Applebee's and get them hot wings." Right on, little girl. Right on.)
Eventually Charlyne meets and falls in love with Michael Cera, the actor. Things now take a strange turn. Enjoyed purely on the surface, their romance is cute and indie-quirky in a not-totally-cliched way, but how much can we trust what we're seeing? Are we meant to believe Michael Cera allowed some romance of his to be filmed, edited, and nationally distributed? We cannot trust or believe in their love, just as Charlyne cannot trust or believe in love in general. This is very clever and meta. The two levels of the film (taken as fact, and taken as an elaborate hall of mirrors) never really collide or harmonize (except in the ending, which is pretty great) and I think they may actually distract from each other. I enjoyed the film but kept schizophrenically swapping back and forth the way I was watching it.
Cute and adorable, the film is an interesting blur of reality and fiction with people burbling about love mixed in. It's a bit saccharine but I think the meta-level (which pokes through here and there) is a nod at self-awareness that saves the film from being easily dismissed. Slightly arch but very sincere, I think it's one of the better indie quirk-fests I've seen. I liked it.
Eventually Charlyne meets and falls in love with Michael Cera, the actor. Things now take a strange turn. Enjoyed purely on the surface, their romance is cute and indie-quirky in a not-totally-cliched way, but how much can we trust what we're seeing? Are we meant to believe Michael Cera allowed some romance of his to be filmed, edited, and nationally distributed? We cannot trust or believe in their love, just as Charlyne cannot trust or believe in love in general. This is very clever and meta. The two levels of the film (taken as fact, and taken as an elaborate hall of mirrors) never really collide or harmonize (except in the ending, which is pretty great) and I think they may actually distract from each other. I enjoyed the film but kept schizophrenically swapping back and forth the way I was watching it.
Cute and adorable, the film is an interesting blur of reality and fiction with people burbling about love mixed in. It's a bit saccharine but I think the meta-level (which pokes through here and there) is a nod at self-awareness that saves the film from being easily dismissed. Slightly arch but very sincere, I think it's one of the better indie quirk-fests I've seen. I liked it.
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