Saw Friday, a shaggy dog comedy/drama about a guy who loses his job and must find rent money but, you know, it's Friday and life is hard, so he hangs out with his drug-dealer friend instead. The film is set in a very rough neighborhood which is populated exclusively by caricatures. The protagonist's father is constantly messing up slang, his neighbor is an overly-enunciating guy who wears a smoking jacket for most of the film. His girlfriend looks like Audrey Hepburn and smiles and simpers at his and his friends' rough behavior. In return, they amiably rob her house. It's a fairly amiable film.
His drug-dealer friend is played by Chris Tucker who is his usual hilarious/annoying self. The film is nothing amazing but it's pretty funny and a fairly intimate look at a rough neighborhood. It reminded me of Do the Right Thing, only without the sudden moralizing turn. There's a climax which is pretty serious (although also a bit sexist) but we never exactly get women and children screaming.
I was surprised by how tightly plotted the film was for a stoner film in which two guys basically watch the world go by. There's a sort of cleanness to the proceedings which is very pleasant. The most interesting thing about the film though is the location. They apparently actually did film this thing deep inside of crip territory (to the point that Chris Tucker was told to wear only blue) and at one point two of the locals refused to clear the set, so you can see them in the background, out of focus but in shot. It's a very immediate sense of reality injected into an otherwise cartoonish and jokey film.
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 29, 2017
Generation Um...
Saw Generation Um... (Thanks, Nina!) Filmed in 2012, it felt like a little time-capsule of the late 2000s. There's flash mobs and endless boozy parties; at one point a veteran shouts "yes we can!" It's very nostalgic although an element of that (boozy parties) is more about being young than it being 2012 or whatever. Anyway, the film follows two pretty party girls and Keanu Reeves who has stolen a camera. They use this camera to create an ad hoc documentary. One of the girls wants to pretend to be a reality TV star (more late-2000s culture) the other has a troubled past which she freely talks about. They talk and drink and snort the night away.
These women seem like fun, but one of them in particular is a complete mess. Shouting, being aggressively rude and drunk, she buys back some affection from Keanu with a quickie in the men's room. Just gross. As the film wears on, they drop little hints and revelations that explain and justify their behavior but it's kind of a third-act twist that these women are worthwhile people after all. If I were in a more generous mood, I would assume that they have their own struggles that make them behave as they do, but I am not in a charitable mood and for most of the film I couldn't wait to get away from them.
The city is also a major element of the film. Every scene had overlapping layers of sound. Music is used very sparingly and for the most part even quiet, soul-bearing scenes are played out above a miasma of honks, trucks, neighbors moving about, and snatches of conversation on the street. At one point Keanu is eating a cupcake and listening to the street noises which are overwhelming and continuous and in the background, playing on the bakery's sound system, is the Moonlight Sonata. A moment of grace, struggling to get out from this chaos.
The film felt very like being at school. Away from parents for the first time there is no one to prevent you from passing out at dawn, fully dressed but there is also little structure. The people in this film feel either uninhibited or hedonistic (or perhaps a bit of both.) The film is a bit long to sit through but offers small rewards if you tough it out. I think it's too free-wheeling for me. Getting drunk and yelling is great and all, but what if we just went to bed at a sensible time instead, girls? How about that?
These women seem like fun, but one of them in particular is a complete mess. Shouting, being aggressively rude and drunk, she buys back some affection from Keanu with a quickie in the men's room. Just gross. As the film wears on, they drop little hints and revelations that explain and justify their behavior but it's kind of a third-act twist that these women are worthwhile people after all. If I were in a more generous mood, I would assume that they have their own struggles that make them behave as they do, but I am not in a charitable mood and for most of the film I couldn't wait to get away from them.
The city is also a major element of the film. Every scene had overlapping layers of sound. Music is used very sparingly and for the most part even quiet, soul-bearing scenes are played out above a miasma of honks, trucks, neighbors moving about, and snatches of conversation on the street. At one point Keanu is eating a cupcake and listening to the street noises which are overwhelming and continuous and in the background, playing on the bakery's sound system, is the Moonlight Sonata. A moment of grace, struggling to get out from this chaos.
The film felt very like being at school. Away from parents for the first time there is no one to prevent you from passing out at dawn, fully dressed but there is also little structure. The people in this film feel either uninhibited or hedonistic (or perhaps a bit of both.) The film is a bit long to sit through but offers small rewards if you tough it out. I think it's too free-wheeling for me. Getting drunk and yelling is great and all, but what if we just went to bed at a sensible time instead, girls? How about that?
Apr 24, 2017
The White Ribbon
Saw The White Ribbon, a frustrating film by Michael Haneke. This one is less overtly cruel than his infamous Funny Games but it has its share of ice-cold cruelty. The film is set in a small German Village in the years before WW1, where a series of cruel pranks terrorize the populace. The village doctor's horse is tripped by a wire, a young boy is stripped and beaten into unconsciousness. I had immediate and strong suspicions about who done it but I'm not sure if I was lead to this conclusion or merely jumped there. In any case, you never really find out who the culprit is.
The film is very slow. It's shot from a child's-eye view, usually focusing on the draconian measures the adults take to keep the kids obedient. We are often left stranded, gazing uninterruptedly at an empty room while an adult goes to fetch a whip, for example, or to get coffee for a visitor. The titular white ribbon represents the purity and innocence of youth. This is of course ironic, as we see very bad things being done to and by children. Children are merely inexperienced, not innocent.
The film is narrated by the school teacher, a frog-like dude who seems to be the only person in the village who is actually innocent. He guilelessly and sincerely conducts an investigation into the pranks, seemingly unaware that everyone is lying to him to some degree. The film is not really a mystery but it is framed that way. It's a chilly but interesting film. It lacked the ratcheting tension of Cache (or I didn't feel it at any rate) but it's well-observed and reminded me of dreaded punishments meted out in my youth.
Edit: Arg, what an idiot I am! Because this is the dawn of WW1, the generation of children depicted in this film would go on to become Nazis. There's the key to unlock this film! Innocence indeed.
The film is very slow. It's shot from a child's-eye view, usually focusing on the draconian measures the adults take to keep the kids obedient. We are often left stranded, gazing uninterruptedly at an empty room while an adult goes to fetch a whip, for example, or to get coffee for a visitor. The titular white ribbon represents the purity and innocence of youth. This is of course ironic, as we see very bad things being done to and by children. Children are merely inexperienced, not innocent.
The film is narrated by the school teacher, a frog-like dude who seems to be the only person in the village who is actually innocent. He guilelessly and sincerely conducts an investigation into the pranks, seemingly unaware that everyone is lying to him to some degree. The film is not really a mystery but it is framed that way. It's a chilly but interesting film. It lacked the ratcheting tension of Cache (or I didn't feel it at any rate) but it's well-observed and reminded me of dreaded punishments meted out in my youth.
Edit: Arg, what an idiot I am! Because this is the dawn of WW1, the generation of children depicted in this film would go on to become Nazis. There's the key to unlock this film! Innocence indeed.
Apr 15, 2017
My Kid Could Paint That
Saw My Kid Could Paint That, a documentary about Marla Olmstead, a 4-year-old who paints very pretty abstract paintings ala Jackson Pollock. Her star rises as small-town papers bring attention from national and international news organizations until Charlie Rose on 60 minutes does a piece on her bringing into question just how uninvolved her parents are. Her father can be heard off-camera giving her instructions. Her pieces that are produced on-camera are scribble-y and childish. Her exhibit pieces are smooth, even, balanced, and polished. Her parents (who seem like incredibly sweet and sincere people by the way) insist that she just gets camera-shy. Even the filmmaker cannot bring himself to condemn them but nor can he bring himself to believe them.
The film begins with the documentary-maker giving Marla the camera. "Interview me," he says, "you hold the camera and interview me." As the film wears on and it becomes clear that the filmmaker has seen nothing to silence his doubts, the film pivots to be about him and about story-telling in general. One art critic for the New York Times says "All story-telling is a lie. Even your documentary is just going to be your telling of events." And then, in a moment of perfect poetic irony, he realizes that he ruined the take by laughing and repeats that point again word-for-word. Even the interview, the film seems to point out, is a lie.
This is an interesting, post-modern take on a story about modern art. In the first act of the film we're told that the story got traction because it gets at a long-running controversy over whether modern abstract art is even worth a damn. There's a pervasive feeling that all of these solid-colored canvasses and splashes of paint are a hoax of some kind. A child can do it. This potential hoax is compounded by the potential hoax of the child prodigy, coached and directed by her parents. This in turn is given a final twist by the documentarian who believes these sweet people but who has to admit that he sees no proof.
The film ends on a deeply ambiguous note. Like F for Fake and Rashômon, we get further and further into ambiguities the more we search. Eventually, we must confront the fact that all narratives are a hypothesis-fitting exercise. Dismissing some facts and magnifying others. We must believe the lie we can live with. But this is the conclusion of a filmmaker wracked with guilt, this is a lie perhaps that he can live with. An interesting film.
The film begins with the documentary-maker giving Marla the camera. "Interview me," he says, "you hold the camera and interview me." As the film wears on and it becomes clear that the filmmaker has seen nothing to silence his doubts, the film pivots to be about him and about story-telling in general. One art critic for the New York Times says "All story-telling is a lie. Even your documentary is just going to be your telling of events." And then, in a moment of perfect poetic irony, he realizes that he ruined the take by laughing and repeats that point again word-for-word. Even the interview, the film seems to point out, is a lie.
This is an interesting, post-modern take on a story about modern art. In the first act of the film we're told that the story got traction because it gets at a long-running controversy over whether modern abstract art is even worth a damn. There's a pervasive feeling that all of these solid-colored canvasses and splashes of paint are a hoax of some kind. A child can do it. This potential hoax is compounded by the potential hoax of the child prodigy, coached and directed by her parents. This in turn is given a final twist by the documentarian who believes these sweet people but who has to admit that he sees no proof.
The film ends on a deeply ambiguous note. Like F for Fake and Rashômon, we get further and further into ambiguities the more we search. Eventually, we must confront the fact that all narratives are a hypothesis-fitting exercise. Dismissing some facts and magnifying others. We must believe the lie we can live with. But this is the conclusion of a filmmaker wracked with guilt, this is a lie perhaps that he can live with. An interesting film.
Apr 10, 2017
The Scarlet Empress
Saw The Scarlet Empress, a film starring Marlene Dietrich about the ascent of Catherine the Great to power. This film is a riot. Catherine of course is known for her legendary (and no doubt maliciously exaggerated) sex life. In this film Dietrich plays the Empress-to-be as a wide-eyed girl sent to a den of vipers. As she leaves her home, she exits out through a large archway, literally swallowed up by darkness. The black and white film is chiaroscuro-ed to within an inch of its life. At court, she's still doing the little miss bow-peep routine, acting unconvincingly shocked at the notion of "lovers." She then is betrayed in some minor way by a man and transforms instantly into a calculating, insouciant jade and the film really begins.
This film is just such fun. The wooden palace she lives in has grotesque statues everywhere. Her husband is a grinning idiot who bores holes in the walls with an enormous corkscrew (~3 feet long) so that he can peer at her. The film is German expressionism to the hilt. Deep shadows swallow people up, mirroring their dubious intentions and shady morality. I feel it's supposed to be kind of a morality play but of course Dietrich winks and smiles her ice-cold smile and makes this court drama look sexy and fun.
The film is a delight. It's full of insane visuals. The story is a bit perfunctory, but the performances are melodramatic and weird. Peering counselors and bellowing duchesses. Just great, great fun. It's not particularly true to history, or even to planet Earth. I wonder how Russians of the time reacted? But it is a romp.
This film is just such fun. The wooden palace she lives in has grotesque statues everywhere. Her husband is a grinning idiot who bores holes in the walls with an enormous corkscrew (~3 feet long) so that he can peer at her. The film is German expressionism to the hilt. Deep shadows swallow people up, mirroring their dubious intentions and shady morality. I feel it's supposed to be kind of a morality play but of course Dietrich winks and smiles her ice-cold smile and makes this court drama look sexy and fun.
The film is a delight. It's full of insane visuals. The story is a bit perfunctory, but the performances are melodramatic and weird. Peering counselors and bellowing duchesses. Just great, great fun. It's not particularly true to history, or even to planet Earth. I wonder how Russians of the time reacted? But it is a romp.
Apr 9, 2017
Parenthood
Saw Parenthood, a dramedy about family which uses a sprawling four-family clan to examine all kinds of family dynamics and interlocking, ramshackle dysfunction. It starts out in the throes of deeply squirmy problems. All of the women are high-stung tyrants, shrieking with embarrassment or bellowing orders, the men all sneering and aloof, knowing what's best but not raising a finger to help out. There's jokes thrown in to lighten the mood but most of them are at the expense of the characters which is not the most helpful. I mean, am I supposed to like these people or not? I think I'm meant to be wisely contemptuous of them, nodding my head at their folly like a grandmother listening to the failures of her offspring.
The film is off-kilter and hilarious at moments but becomes increasingly sincere. As the film goes on, soon the only jokes are bitter asides thrown out during arguments. I actually found those moments of pure drama far more bearable than the treacly jokes of the early film, but that's my problem I think. Again, feel bad for these characters, each with their own private hell. The point of the film is these hells are all worth it for the richness it brings to our lives. This is not bad advice for life in general, not just about families.
Anyway, I found the film pretty bumpy. It was very embarrassing and difficult to watch. The ending, when everyone's starting to get along a bit better, redeems the film a bit but oh boy those early scenes. About a fourth of the way through the film I decided I hated most of the characters, only for them to charm me later on. It's a heart-warming film with some bitter jokes added in. Most of the jokes require the characters to be jerks and I think this is a weakness.
The film is off-kilter and hilarious at moments but becomes increasingly sincere. As the film goes on, soon the only jokes are bitter asides thrown out during arguments. I actually found those moments of pure drama far more bearable than the treacly jokes of the early film, but that's my problem I think. Again, feel bad for these characters, each with their own private hell. The point of the film is these hells are all worth it for the richness it brings to our lives. This is not bad advice for life in general, not just about families.
Anyway, I found the film pretty bumpy. It was very embarrassing and difficult to watch. The ending, when everyone's starting to get along a bit better, redeems the film a bit but oh boy those early scenes. About a fourth of the way through the film I decided I hated most of the characters, only for them to charm me later on. It's a heart-warming film with some bitter jokes added in. Most of the jokes require the characters to be jerks and I think this is a weakness.
Apr 3, 2017
Cronos
Saw Cronos (thanks, Basil!) It was emphatically directed by Guillermo Del Toro. One of his early films, it contains many of his hallmarks: elaborately made-up but sadly sympathetic monsters, silent little girls, a complex mythos, Ron Perelman. Yes, this one has it all. The story is one of those vampire films where they never actually say the word vampire, but there's a dude drinking blood and taking a lot of damage without dying. This film sort of returns the vampire image to its roots, a tormented old man with an addiction, struggling not to hurt people, tormented by what he must do to survive.
There's also the mixture of the innocent and the monstrous that Del Toro likes. Here the vampire protagonist curls up inside of his granddaughter's toy chest to sleep, as though dead, clutching dolls. A vital physical piece of the vamp-mythos is kept hidden inside of a teddy bear. Appropriately enough, the hole to get the thing out of the bear is in its neck.
I noticed a motif in the film of the passage of time. A climactic battle takes place in front of a clock. Pre-vampirism, the protagonist runs an antiques store. When he first discovers the vamp-ening magic, the clocks start chiming. The symbolism, that this guy is now stuck in place as time flowed around him, is obvious and apt. Less apt, I feel, is the weird late-stage symbolism connecting him to Jesus Christ. He does sacrifice himself for the greater good and his name is Jesus Gris (for heaven's sake.) I think the Jesus symbolism is a tad goofy.
That (subjective) misstep aside, this was a pretty solid film. One of the reasons I watch movies is to see things I would never otherwise have seen and I got that out of this film. It's a fun film. IT takes itself fairly seriously, but in a strange, off-kilter kind of way. The protagonist at one point licks up the aftermath of a nose-bleed in a men's room. He does this, but we also see him struggling with himself, fighting and then accepting this impulse. An interesting film.
There's also the mixture of the innocent and the monstrous that Del Toro likes. Here the vampire protagonist curls up inside of his granddaughter's toy chest to sleep, as though dead, clutching dolls. A vital physical piece of the vamp-mythos is kept hidden inside of a teddy bear. Appropriately enough, the hole to get the thing out of the bear is in its neck.
I noticed a motif in the film of the passage of time. A climactic battle takes place in front of a clock. Pre-vampirism, the protagonist runs an antiques store. When he first discovers the vamp-ening magic, the clocks start chiming. The symbolism, that this guy is now stuck in place as time flowed around him, is obvious and apt. Less apt, I feel, is the weird late-stage symbolism connecting him to Jesus Christ. He does sacrifice himself for the greater good and his name is Jesus Gris (for heaven's sake.) I think the Jesus symbolism is a tad goofy.
That (subjective) misstep aside, this was a pretty solid film. One of the reasons I watch movies is to see things I would never otherwise have seen and I got that out of this film. It's a fun film. IT takes itself fairly seriously, but in a strange, off-kilter kind of way. The protagonist at one point licks up the aftermath of a nose-bleed in a men's room. He does this, but we also see him struggling with himself, fighting and then accepting this impulse. An interesting film.
Apr 1, 2017
Agnes Varda: From Here To There
Saw Agnes Varda: From Here To There, a five-part mini-series documentary filmed by accomplished art-director Agnes Varda which I marathon-ed in one 3-hour-45-minute sitting. It followed Agnes as she traveled the world, receiving honors, visiting art galleries, and artist friends. She describes their work lovingly and explains how it inspired her own. The whole thing is mostly delightful (if a bit long when piled up together like this.)
Agnes is a wonderful old lady. She has a genuine appreciation and zest for life, describing one artist's all-black paintings as grand and dignified, emotional and evocative. She asks her Russian taxi-driver about local history just for the joy of hearing him speak Russian. Her hair is dyed dark red in a ring around her head, the crown left white. It makes her look like she's always standing in a bright sunbeam. Although her enjoyment at all the globetrotting and films and art is obvious (and infectious,) she keeps fairly straight-faced, preferring declarative narration and a simple hand-held digital camera to composed shots or swooning soundtracks. She's disciplined but indulgent, just a delight.
She tips her hand quite early on, explaining her own fascination with photographs vs films, the static vs the dynamic. Often the film freezes to capture what Agnes calls a 'critical moment.' I noticed a recurrent theme in many artist's work of industrialization vs (and in harmony with) humanity. The film is also a treasure-house of obscure films. She rattles off directors and artists as though they were her old friend (which may well be the case.) A fascinating look into the global art scene through Agnes's lens. A welcoming and busy little series.
Agnes is a wonderful old lady. She has a genuine appreciation and zest for life, describing one artist's all-black paintings as grand and dignified, emotional and evocative. She asks her Russian taxi-driver about local history just for the joy of hearing him speak Russian. Her hair is dyed dark red in a ring around her head, the crown left white. It makes her look like she's always standing in a bright sunbeam. Although her enjoyment at all the globetrotting and films and art is obvious (and infectious,) she keeps fairly straight-faced, preferring declarative narration and a simple hand-held digital camera to composed shots or swooning soundtracks. She's disciplined but indulgent, just a delight.
She tips her hand quite early on, explaining her own fascination with photographs vs films, the static vs the dynamic. Often the film freezes to capture what Agnes calls a 'critical moment.' I noticed a recurrent theme in many artist's work of industrialization vs (and in harmony with) humanity. The film is also a treasure-house of obscure films. She rattles off directors and artists as though they were her old friend (which may well be the case.) A fascinating look into the global art scene through Agnes's lens. A welcoming and busy little series.
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