The Proposition

The Proposition (John Hillcoat, 2006) [7]
This western, transplanted to the harsh outback of Australia, is quite an interesting film in terms of its dichotomies. A film that wrestles with the issues of savagery and violence, as life in the 19th century Australian outback was versus the need for British/colonial imposed order and civility. The film also has an interesting collision of images, with the vast, brutal desert these characters are dropped into, a land of desolate danger and quiet, only to be interrupted with intense outbursts of violence. Hillcoat does an admirable job of handling such complex issues and still getting the story out. Captain Stanley, solidly played by Ray Winstone, has been sent to be the enforcer of British law and order, both on the murderous Irish Burns Gang, but on the Aboriginal people that populate the unforgiving land. Stanley's character is the most impressive in the film; he's not prone to overly poetic meditation or lonely introspection as some of the other characters are. That's not saying that there's something wrong with introspection here. It's definitely fitting as a rebuke to the world surrounding the characters, but at times it feels off rhythm. The film works best when it lets the images do the talking for it. Most of the time, the film grapples with the tedium that comes with being in a desolate land only to be occasionally broken up with intense violence. But the violence never overshadows the film; it is an inevitable part of life in the surroundings these characters have been placed in. The story, written by Nick Cave, probes into revenge, family, and the meaning of law. Hillcoat balances the story and the images to create a film that knows what moments it needs to be effective.

Fast Food Nation

Fast Food Nation (Richard Linklater, 2006) [4]
Eric Schlosser's book was a fantastic piece of muckraking journalism, highly engrossing and yet disturbing at the same time. For the film, he and director Linklater have tried to translate the basic facets of the book and made a narrative out of it. Sadly, this film doesn't come anywhere close to the book in terms of skill as well as impact. Linklater focus is on three main character threads: the fast food company suit, the teenage employee of said fast food chain, and an illegal immigrant who ends up working in the meatpacking plant that supplies the fast food company with their beef. The problem with this is that even though it shows the interconnectivity of all three even though each has no direct contact with the other, each character and their story seems to really have no consequence on the other. There has to be something to thread them together, which almost comes together with Greg Kinnear as the executive and Ashley Johnson as the teenager both coming to an enlightenment of the "evilness" of the fast food industry. But that still leaves out the Mexican workers who always seem too distant from the other stories. The performances are o.k. but nothing spectacular even though Kinnear is interesting as a dim bulb. The Amber character is problematic in her transformation from good worker to young idealist. She ends up in some kind of symbolic idealism, a group of college students who seem to act in the way older people (in this case, Linklater and Schlosser) want them to. I don't believe a minute, not because I'm cynical about what is being discussed; it just seems to be taking the easy way out. Clearly, even after this film and the book, many people have chosen to ignore the disgusting facts and still frequent McDonald's and their ilk. It's hard to muster righteous indignation in a film when it seems its own characters are resigned to basic hopelessness. Linklater and Schlosser have taken all of the force out of the book and end up with a film that is too defeatist in its outlook.

Jonestown: The Life and Death of the Peoples Temple

Jonestown: The Life and Death of the Peoples Temple (Stanley Nelson, 2006) [8]
This is a spellbinding, engrossing documentary that is just as frightening as any good horror movie. The story of Jim Jones and the Peoples Temple is a familiar one to most people, at least the aspect of the mass deaths at the Temple's compound in Guyana. Nelson digs deeper to give a thorough journalistic coverage to the story, going back into Jones' troubled childhood in Indiana and the Temples early, idealistic days in rural Northern California. The most interesting coverage the film gives is to the idea of The Peoples Temple itself. Jones was preaching a forcefully integrated, pro-socialist message that appealed to the poor (and mostly African-American) by offering them some glimmer of hope. What's fascinating is how Jones adapted the black Pentecostal tradition and adapted it to fit his church. It can be seen as a very shrewd move in terms of attracting African-Americans as well as using the socialist message to attract whites. The film really focuses on the character of Jones himself, as he starts off as an idealistic, admirable preacher and ends up an authoritarian and completely paranoid of losing all the substantial power he has gained over his followers. I get the feeling that Jones used his philosophy of hope purely as a way to put himself in a position of power and influence. Jones often used his congregation as instruments in political protests and was involved in political decision making in San Francisco. It's clear by the Temple's end in Guyana, Jones was more concerned with hanging on to his power than actually caring about his congregation or the original message he preached to them. As for Jonestown, it's been told so many times that it's hard to get much new out of it, but from the interviews Nelson conducted, a frightening picture of the church's final days is shown which should leave many viewers disturbed and shaken.

Two issues always brought up with Jonestown and the Temple are should they be considered a cult and was the ending at Jonestown a mass suicide or murder? This is where the film still leaves questions but my personal opinion is divided. Many people joined the Peoples Temple in true hope that what Jones was preaching was to come about. It's hard to argue against what he was saying, but by Jonestown it's clear that his personality was more important than the message. That to me makes the Temple a cult. About the mass suicide? From the interviews of those who escaped, it sounds like the people were surrounded by armed guards with no choice but to drink the cyanide laced Kool-Aid. That to me sounds like murder. But there is no clear answer to both, as the film shows. But it still is an informative and disturbing look at its subject.

Children of Men

Children of Men (Alfonson Curon, 2006) [9]
It's sometime in the near future and the entire world in a disintegrating chaos. Women have become infertile. Something akin to a fascist police state has been set up, with the forced relocation and torture of illegal aliens. Through all this, a young woman has mysteriously become pregnant and an unsuspecting man is thrust into a situation to save the future of mankind. That's essentially the plot of Children of Men, and while story and ideas-wise, it leaves a few holes, there is no doubt that Alfonso Curon's latest effort is dazzling filmmaking. I really don't want this review to get into nitpicking political viewpoints and ideas, of myself and the film, mostly because the film's politics exist in some cloudy middle. Curon's source material, a novel of the same name by P.D. James is a right-wing Christian allegory. Curon twists the notions present, most notably the idea of the miracle birth, but skews the perspective to reflect a more modern reflexive allegory. The political ideology to me is a bit confusing. For instance, the importance of the miracle birth is never really explained in depth for me to really get an idea of its importance. Why the character of Theo is chosen for his path also has questions; he clearly has no political motivations, and that may be the point. The world the film is thrown into is in total chaos, and that may be purposeful. It's a society so far down into chaos and beyond repair, that any clear definition of politics or a worldview may be impossible to find.

Sometimes, holes in a film's story can be overlooked. The sheer breath of Curon's filmmaking here is enough to outshine any lingering questions I may have had. Emmanuel Lubezki's cinematography is absolutely perfect, dark and devoid of color but still striking. The world that Curon has created is perfect in portraying a world that has no future. One quick scene sums it up: a spot of graffiti says, "Last one to die turn out the lights." Curon shows a huge amount of virtuosity but never lets it get too showy. It took me until almost the end, at the refugee camp, to realize how long Curon's takes were, and how seamless and perfect they worked, especially when Theo is following after Kee in the camp. The camerawork never overshadows what's happening in the film; in fact, I feel it intensifies the action, making a more thrilling film. The performances are solid without being showy or spectacular, most notably Clive Owen and Michael Caine. This is the most skillfully made film of 2006 and will definitely have a place near the top of my list (which should be almost finalized sometime soon).

For Your Consideration

For Your Consideration (Christopher Guest, 2006) [5]
I wouldn't consider this a total disappointment but it certainly not of Christopher Guest and company's better efforts. I don't usually take this into effect when judging a film but I think this could have been better if it was a little longer and a had a bit more character development. As they stand in the film, I feel the characters are too thin, with only the Catherine O'Hara character reaching any sort of depth. There is a hint of pathos in her that I would have like to seen more of. Then again, this is a comedy and treading down a more dramatic path could take away from the laughs. That's the problem I see here however. The characters and all the plot being wrapped up in the anticipation of receiving an Oscar nomination only to be let down leads to more pathos in this film than previous Guest efforts. It's hard not to feel bad for these actors who get completely wrapped up in a whirlwind only to be greatly let down. The laughs here come from these actors being completely out of whack, but I feel bad laughing at their naivete and gullibility. The redeeming laughs come from Fred Willard, who as in every Guest film, steals every scene he's in. That and the Love It/Hate It show segments. Outside, the laughs come too infrequently for me to really recommend this film. Perhaps Guest's focus is on too narrow of focus. The hype and politics surrounding Hollywood awards doesn't seem like it would translate to great comedy; at least here it doesn't.

Beerfest

Beerfest (Jay Chandrasekhar, 2006) [3]
As the title of this blog says, I'm a film snob. Still, I try to make an effort to once and a while see something outside of what parameters I have for film. Usually, that means comedies since their laughs cover up things I would pick apart. Comedy troupe Broken Lizard don't make great films to be sure, but they could do a lot better than this. Super Troopers had its moments that were really funny, but nothing in this beer-soaked bore is that funny. The plot is half-baked and stupid, revelling in humor that would appeal to any meatheaded frat boy that spent college playing beer pong and being a jackass. Since I spent my college experience wholeheartedly avoiding situations and people like that, it's no wonder I found the adolescent humor in this film to be less than hilarious. Outside of that audience, I can't see how this film would be appealing to anyone else. It may be a little unfair that I hold this film to higher standards than what it's aiming for, which appears to be the lowest brow possible. But if you want to waste my time, add some better jokes.

Hedwig and the Angry Inch

Hedwig and the Angry Inch (John Cameron Mitchell, 2001) [7]
It took me a while to come to terms with a grade about this film and I'm still kind of torn. The songs are great, and when they're front and center like in the first half of the film, it's a borderline exceptional film. But the second half delves more story and for whatever reason, I just didn't find myself that interested in it. Even with that, it's not enough to sway my overall opinion that I really did like it. John Cameron Mitchell's performance as Hansel/Hedwig is great at times, especially when he's singing. Mitchell has such a strong stage presence as Hedwig, belting out glam influenced songs that really rock. The performances are clearly the most enjoyable part of the film, and I was disappointed that they occur less frequently as the film progresses. The animation sequences in the beginning also work surprisingly well and don't take the viewer out of the film, as they could easily do. I find Hedwig's story sort of frivolous and borderline silly: the botched sex change operation, the comical depiction of East Germany, and befriending/seducing Tommy. I felt it dragged the film down after the exceptional beginning. The ending, like in Shortbus, tries to be uplifting but it comes across as cloying. I never thought I would say this about a film, but the more frivolous and out there this film would have been, the better it would have been. It still has its moments though.

Monthly Listening Post - March 2007

It's time for a new batch of recommended music before some highly-anticipated April releases such as Kings of Leon, Feist, and Bright Eyes. Here they are:

Bright Eyes - Four Winds Ep
Jesse Sykes & the Sweet Hereafter - Like, Love, Lust & the Open Halls of the Soul
Old Crow Medicine Show - Big Iron World (I don't know why I didn't get this earlier but it should definitely be on my Best of '06 Honorable Mention list.)
Tea Leaf Green - Rock 'n' Roll Band (Saw them open for Little Feat last Thursday at the Magic City Music Dump. One of the few post-Phish jambands whose songs I actually like.)
Todd Snider - The Devil You Know

One of the few festivals I've wanted to go to but never been is moe.down, held every Labor Day Weekend by the jamband moe. not too far outside Utica. The lineup this year features Ryan Adams and the reunited Meat Puppets. I'm highly intrigued and being only a couple hours away, I think I'll give it a try.

Shortbus

Shortbus (John Cameron Mitchell, 2006) [4]
I swear I didn't read The Hack's review of this film before I saw it but it's exactly what I thought. For a film that drops itself into a world of hyperactive pansexuality in an attempt to engage and perhaps shock the viewer, I was bored more than anything throughout. Mitchell still gets an A for effort for at least trying to address sexuality in an real, frank way. This is never done in America but has attempted in Europe with films like 9 Songs and Base Moi. Like those films though, the execution leaves something to be desired. The sex here is so outrageous and while it may be meant to be that way, it comes across as silly and practically harmless. Perhaps I don't have the same sensibilities as most of America (I'm sure a good number of people would be absolutely offended if they did see this film) but I find nothing about the sex here. I have the feeling that Mitchell wants to present a challenging film but all that really comes of it is Rent with sex as the Hack puts it. Mitchell said in a making-of doc that he wanted the film to be uplifting instead of negative. The problem in his quest to show 'we're lonely but we can still make it' viewpoint, he takes all the impact his original idea had and sugarcoats the ending leaving me a bit disappointed. I didn't expect to be bored so much.

Stranger Than Fiction

Stranger Than Fiction (Marc Forester, 2006) [6]
A man wakes up one morning to find out that a voice is narrating his life and he has no idea who it is or where it's coming from. Eventually, the voice reveals the man's imminent death which in turn causes the man to live his life the way he's always wanted only to be spared at the end. That's basically the entire plot of this film, which has an interesting conceit that comes across in the film as not that interesting or consistently done. A lot of talk centered around Zach Helm's inventive screenplay but outside of his use of the narration thread, this story doesn't have anything drastically different from other 'man rediscovering life' films that get played out.

What saves the film from being really maudlin is Will Ferrell's performance as numbers obsessed, lonely IRS auditor Harold Crick. I firmly believe that Ferrell is much better in his more downbeat roles, such as here and in Winter Passing, than when he plays the dimwit goofball in his comedies. Ferrell as Harold has a vulnerability and tangible emotion in the character that makes him completely likable. One of the most interesting aspects of the film is why and how it has come to be that Harold is put in this situation. I truly felt that he really didn't deserve to die ; he's too harmless a man. As for the other performances, the chemistry between Ferrell and Maggie Gyllenhaal as an antagonistic baker is solid, and give the best some of its better moments. The Dustin Hoffman and Emma Thompson characters don't seem that vital to the film; they come and go and are not missed when they're gone.

The film's weakness really hinges on its conceit. The narration never seems to appear in a consistent manner. Since the voice is omniscient, it should be everywhere every time. It only appears in the film at the times when it becomes crucial to move the plot along. I just don't find it convincing enough or that original. It comes across as too put upon Harold. In fact, the film is really much better when the narration goes away and the focus is on the budding relationship between Harold and Ana. My other problem with this film is that it goes into the art of writing and literary theory and it really doesn't have anything of substance to say about either. Now I've taken literary theory and all that stuff so I may be prone to a more in-depth analysis of that aspect of the film, but there's no application of any actual literary theory in the film. The Dustin Hoffman character is a theory professor but what he mostly talks about is genre and style, not actual theory. That may be a minor point for a good majority of the people watching this but it takes away credibility for me. That and the end seems unsatisfactory. It starts to go into the whole moral dilemma Karen Eiffel the author has and cuts it too short. Instead what comes out is an ending to make everyone feel good. While I don't have a problem with it, it could have dug deep. Stranger Than Fiction is a film really too concerned with its appearance and not enough with its substance at times.

Some Changes

Since I've decided to keep this site going, I thought it was time to make it a little better looking. I think this new background looks better and switching the links to the right make everything a little bit better to read. I am still in the process of re-ordering and streamlining the links. Right now, I have the sites that I visit the most. I also added a cool little sidebar I found (www.jforsythe.com/jforsythe/netflixwidget.aspx). It's called the Netflix widget and for anybody that actually reads this site, it shows what films I have at home so you can find out what reviews are coming up next. I don't know that much about RSS code and HTML but I'm hoping to find a way to post some lists on the sidebar also. Anyway, I hope the new redesigned Useless Film Snob Reviews looks good and a Stranger Than Fiction Review should be coming up soon.

Borat

Borat: Cultural Learnings of America to Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan (Larry Charles, 2006) [7]
The problem with satire is that it's hard to make good comedy out of it. Borat, Sacha Baron Cohen's high wire act, comes close. This is due mostly to the fact that taking the guise of a anti-semitic, misogynistic, clueless foreigner gives Baron Cohen the perfect cover to reveal the true nature of Americans. There are numerous instances in this film of that, such as the drunken frat boys, the gun salesman who doesn't blink an eye when asked what gun to kill a Jew and so on. Baron Cohen earns my respect by taking such risks with the Borat character, always pushing the situation but never breaking. There are numerous times in the film, most notably when Borat first arrives in New York, that the threat of physical harm is present and he never breaks stride. This makes Baron Cohen's performance nearly extraordinary mostly because by immersing himself so deeply in the persona of Borat, he gets ordinary Americans to reveal the ugly underbelly that a lot of people in this country have, all the while still making the audience laugh.

I laughed, but not as much as I was led to believe. This leads me to the the humor of the film. A lot of the film, especially the times when Borat interacts with unsuspecting ordinary people, is based in the humor of embarrasment and humiliation. We laugh at these ignorant rednecks; it's not surprising that most of the more memorable segments have to do with Borat's ventures in the South (frat boys, the vicious homophobe running the rodeo). We laugh at the crazy and stupid things coming out of their mouths partly because we can't believe what they're saying and at least in terms of thinking in the Northern liberal elite, it reinforces our ideas about how backwards and intolerant the South still is. The interactions on the New York subway do the same thing, this time giving everyone a chance to see New York is still full of assholes afraid of human contact. What bothers me is not so much the labeling associated, is that these people are meant to be laughed at, and that's something I'm just not comfortable with. I'm more appalled with what they're saying and acting than laughing. The rodeo scene where the audience applauds America's "War of Terror" and President Bush drinking the blood of Iraqis is scary to me than anything. It probably means a good portion of this nation feels the same way.

The film's best moments always revolve the humor around the Borat character himself. This is when the satire is really sharp. Baron Cohen, making his character a bumbling reporter from a nation where a good majority of people wouldn't be able to locate on a map is a perfect way to characterize the alien nature of the rest of the world that America seems to hold. His lack of sophistication is the most consistently funny thing in the film, whether it be washing his face in the toilet or saying something completely inappropriate. The funniest moments in the film focus on Borat's own anti-semitism (being trapped in a Jewish home) and the homo-erotic/homophobia conflict (the naked wrestling in the hotel is one of the most hilarious and daring scenes I've seen in a film this year. Even with all that, I still am conflicted about the film overall. But I doubt I'll see a more daring piece of mainstream cinema for a while.

By the way, I forgot to mention the one time in the film where Borat interacts with regular people that is truly terrifying to me. When Borat ends up at the Pentecostal revival, Baron Cohen and Charles just document the happenings; they don't attempt to humiliate anybody. The actual events of this are shocking enough. That people have that much faith in a concept so abstract as religion and God that they practically lose all control of themselves is beyond comprehension for me.

Talladega Nights

Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby (Adam McKay, 2006) [4]
I watched this film back to back with Borat and a little surprisingly, found that both deal with a certain class of American society. To an extent. This is a film about NASCAR and a film not really about NASCAR. Car racing is something I have absolutely no interest in, but Will Farrell and McKay make it clear that you don't have to know who Tony Stewart is to laugh at the film. The film isn't interested in any real examination of NASCAR or the strange (to me anyway) sociological implications of it. It deals heavily with a certain class of people, Southern mostly, that are stereotyped, true or not, as overtly macho, homophobic, jingoistic, naive, and less than intelligent. Borat does this by re-enforcing those ideas, while in Talladega Nights they're played off as lovable and harmless. It creates an interesting paradigm of American society.

As for the film, with any Will Ferrel vehicle, it's completely hit and miss. The film can be really on, but it also has its moments when it just drags on with no real purpose. The story here is a bit more concrete than Anchorman, but reigning in on the story keeps out the out-of-left-field jokes and tangents that gave that previous film more laughs. When the film does fire, such as Sacha Baron Cohen's character, a gay Formula One driver that reads The Stranger while out on the track, and the shameless product placement and commercialization that define NASCAR, it borders on some sharp satire, but Farrell and McKay never have the onions to dig in. Baron Cohen's character comes of as completely harmless when I have a feeling someone like that could never set foot in a NASCAR track without something bad happening (I hope I'm wrong, but I worked at the Watkins Glen race one year, and from the people I saw, I don't think I would be). But mostly you judge a comedy by its laughs and this film just doesn't have enough. I've never thought that Ferrell is consistently funny in any of his leading roles, and here is no different, as he's upstaged by John C. Reilly as Ricky Bobby's dimwit pushover best friend. The problem with these two characters is they're so completely naive that they're absolutely harmless and of no importance to me once my viewing of Talladega Nights ended. Sometimes, it's not enough just to be silly.

The Science of Sleep

The Science of Sleep (Michel Gondry, 2006) [6]
This is a frustrating film to me at times, mostly due to the childish nature of it, which could also be perhaps its greatest strength. The film, just as the Stephane character, has a hard time distinguishing between dreams and reality. I can't say that I really enjoyed the narrative skipping back and forth; it becomes too disjointed and irritating at times, but I can see its purpose in the overall structure. This film succeeds in what it wants to do to and for that, I have to give it some respect. Gondry's unique visual style is certainly on display here, most notably his use of stop-time animation. The whimsy and inventiveness of the visuals highlight the dream segments but never quite translate over to reality reliably. The performances are solid, especially Gael Garcia Bernal as the perpetual man-child who makes naive drawings of disasters and sleeps in his childhood bed. His relationship with Stephanie, while refreshing that it focuses heavily on the neuroses of a relationship, never has any real emotional significance in it for me. It's a series of fleeting moments that never really have a chance to develop any qualities outside of Stephane's mind. Stephane's dreams can be the most interesting part of the film at times, and at others, become the most irritating. But I give Gondry credit for taking a risk on something so different.

It's Tournament Time Again

The film reviews take a back seat for the next two weeks (even though I'll post a review of The Science of Sleep sometime soon) as the NCAA basketball tournament begins tonight with things getting into full swing on Thursday. Living relatively close to Syracuse, the Orange have always been my favorite team and it's downright robbery that they were left out in favor of goobers like Arkansas and Illinois, who I'm sure that Syracuse could beat both easily. Overall, I think this was the worst tournament I can remember; anyone on this year's selection committee should be barred from college basketball forever. Want a list of things they did wrong?

-no Syracuse, Kansas State and Drexel but Arkansas, Illinois, and Stanford
-Butler as a no. 5 seed when they've stunk for the past month.
-Washington State a 3 and Texas a 4 having to play UNC
-shafting the Big East in general

Anyway, here are my picks:

East Regional: Texas over Georgetown
Upset Special: Texas over UNC and Georgetown

South Regional: Ohio State over Nevada
Upset Special: Nevada over Memphis and Texas A&M, Albany over Virginia

Midwest Regional: Florida over Oregon
Upset Special: Old Dominion over Butler

West Regional: UCLA over Kansas
Upset Special: VCU over Duke

Final Four: UCLA over Florida
Ohio State over Texas
UCLA over Ohio State

The Prestige

The Prestige (Christopher Nolan, 2006) [10]
Very often the film that I pick for the best of a certain year is a film that gets solid reviews by most critics, but is never a film that finds its way onto many critics' lists or awards (Munich kinda sorta being the exception). This film, barring there are many more strong contenders out there (and from what I deduce, there may not be), will be my pick for Useless Film Snob Reviews' Best Film of 2006. While I may be too wowed by it after just seeing it, Christopher's Nolan film of magic, jealousy, and macho one-upmanship is a dazzling piece of filmmaking.
Nolan is always a story focused filmmaker and this film contains some of the same high-wire writing and plot twists that made me a fan of his with Memento. The story focuses on the careers of two magicians, Angier the gifted showman played by Hugh Jackman and Borden, the better magician played by Christian Bale. The film revolves around the rival career arcs of the two men and the macho posturing and sabotaging of each by the other, all the result of a tragic accident that I don't want to reveal for anyone who hasn't seen the film. Nolan really focuses on the two men and their collision of egos which does cause the peripheral story elements to fall back. The magicians' motivations are so interesting that the lack of a strong surrounding story doesn't become an issue for me. The performances all around are good, especially Bale who comes across much more menacing than Jackman's character and Michael Caine is a great supporting role. The Scarlett Johansson character comes and goes without much thought but then again this really about the magicians and the role of magic.
I could go into a long discussion about the role of magic and its collision with science in the Victorian Era and its relation to reality and the importance of illusion but I don't want to sit here all day. (It would make a great paper though). Let's just say it creates a really interesting story with enough twists that rival any illusion or trick performed in the film. Nolan is often credited as being a very story focused writer and director but here, the visuals really appeal. The film deals very much in dark/bright contrasts but still manages to create a warmth as well as a coldness when the film needs it. On the entire filmmaker spectrum, The Prestige is the most accomplished film Nolan has made to date and a film that I have great respect for.

L'Enfant

L'Enfant (Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, 2006) [6]
It's interesting that the title plays such a dual role in this film; it can be seen literally about the baby that Bruno and Sonia have to care for, or the way I see it, it really describes the character of Bruno himself. The Dardenne brothers focus the film squarely on his shoulders, focusing on a character that is still stuck in an arrested adolescence and is forced to now have to care for a child himself. Formally, the brothers focus on the daily existence of the characters, painting a sociological picture that can create a situation where a character like Bruno would consider selling his newborn son the same as try to sell a stolen camera. The baby itself doesn't quite come across for me as a real character; it never cries or seems to need anything. While that may not be such an important point for the Dardennes as their focus isn't on the baby, to me it leaves something lacking. From an aesthetic standpoint, the film does a very good job of expressing a certain setting, and I really like how the brothers spend a lot of time showing Bruno and Sonia pushing the stroller around. Visually, the film is very much in tune with what it wants to say. Emotionally, I can't really say the same thing. The Dardennes have stated this is a love story, but with the exception of the last scene, I don't see it. That scene has to much compassion in it for a film for the most of it, keeps its distance emotionally. I felt that the Bruno character was too cold and calculating, only concerned with getting money. For him to have a revelation by being placed in jail muddles what was a solid film, but by no means a masterpiece as some critics have done.

The Films of Kenneth Anger, Volume 1

It's nice to see that Netflix offers this as experimental films are often too hard to find on DVD. Also, it's also great that Anger's films have been put together on a DVD set, seeing that his style has had a profound impact on later directors. His filmmaking style, a lot of repetition and pans, as well as his thought out use of a rock and roll soundtrack clearly have a huge influence on Martin Scorsese as well as others. I only do have a limited knowledge of experimental film, but from what I've seen, I would have to say that Anger is my favorite and most exciting experimental filmmaker. He has more of a sense of humor than Brakhage, and his films, especially Scorpio Rising, have more vitality to me than most avant-garde work.

Volume 1 covers Anger's early work, from Fireworks in 1947 to Inauguration of the Pleasure Dome in 1954. These films predate the notoriety he would get in the late 60s with Scorpio Rising but they still feature the use of repetition and focus that would define his work. Anger's films focus very strongly on images, and the dream like way that they appear throughout his films. Even though they may be dream like, they never seem totally random or pointless. There's always a great deal of thought put into trying to convey the right expression. It may not be completely clear all of the time, but it creates films that are definitely unique.

Fireworks (1947) [7]
The most expressive and perhaps the most inaccessible film of Anger's, this film to me has a fever dream feel to it. Dealing heavily with the themes of homosexuality, masochism, and rape, it may turn off people but it shows the talent that Anger had in creating arresting visuals. A young man enter a bathroom only to be brutally raped and beaten by a group of sailors only to find a sort of masochistic awakening, it is still a daring film, sixty years later.

Puce Moment (1949) [5]
A five minute short that Anger said was meant to be an homage to the silent film era. It starts off strong with an opening fixed shot of a shuffle of evening gowns (it's a lot stronger image than it sounds like), the film just doesn't go on long enough to gain any real lasting power in my mind.

Rabbit's Moon (1950) [6]
My introduction to Anger came while I was at the University at Buffalo, and I saw a modified nine minute version of this, which not many places had. The version here is the sixteen minute original that Anger officially released in 1971 even though all the footage was shot in France in 1950. This is the first film to feature what I would consider the rock and roll soundtrack that would be so influential to people like Scorsese. The film itself deals with the idea of a Japanese fairy tale that a rabbit lives in the moon. The narrative doesn't really move anywhere, but the interesting use of repetition and zooms make it appealing.

Eaux d'Artifice (1953) [9]
The most visually arresting of this group of films, Anger filmed the water gardens at Villa d'Este and emerged with one of the most sublime and well-crafted films of his. He uses a midget actress, Carmilla Salvatorelli, to skew the perspective of the film, to make the fountains imposing upon the figure, when in reality, they aren't. Anger also filmed everything using a red filter then printed the film with a blue one to give a unique and arresting pall to the picture. The ending's crescendo of water adds to its arresting nature.

Inauguration of the Pleasure Dome (1954) [6]
While this film may win an award for best title ever for a film, it was a little underwhelming for me. Influenced heavily by the ideas of occultist Alasteir Crowley, the film is a mash of odd images that still manage to feel like they have a purpose. I would consider this one of Anger's most dreamlike films, and while I may be wrong, the film feels like I'm watching someones dream. The film does have an interesting use of superimposition and the portrayal of the ritual, something that is done in depth in Scorpio Rising. Let's hope that Volume 2 isn't far behind.

Babel

Babel (Alejandro Gonzalez Innaritu, 2006) [4]
With tonight being the Oscars, there's no doubt that this will edge out a win for Best Picture because it has all the facets of Hollywood liberal guilt syndrome that made Crash appealing. That's not to say that this is as bad and manipulative as Crash; Innaritu is a much more talented director than Paul Haggis and his virtuosity cover up some of the more illogical elements of this film. Even though, it doesn't have as many differences as similarities: the film especially towards the end becomes more and more emotionally manipulative (the nanny's ordeal with customs, Brad Pitt playing the Ugly American) and its cut and paste way of tying the disparate story lines together, which is highly irrational. Innaritu and writer Guillermo Arriaga also have big ideas to throw around (global interconnectivity, the futility of language, the persistence of human agony, and so on) but never really form them into any coherent statement. The only part of the film that gets above is the Japanese storyline mostly because the Richo Kikuchi character, as a deaf mute, exists outside all of Innaritu's big idea garbage, and for that time, we get scenes with real character motivation and development that show the promise that Babel and Innaritu have. Too bad he lets the rest of the film mess that up.

The truth is I liked Innaritu's previous films, especially 21 Grams and I do think that he has true talent as a filmmaker. The biggest problem with Babel is that he gets himself bogged down into thinking he's conveying great truths about a global culture that is more interconnected than the average person would happen to believe. What comes out is a muddled film that has some really good moments but never gets itself above its illogical connections and liberal guilt-tripping. Which means, sadly, it will probably win Best Picture.

By the way, if anyone has read my posts from last year, I said if Crash won Best Picture, I would boycott watching the Oscars for eternity. I'm going to keep my word; I don't care anymore. My only hope is that Martin Scorsese, after he wins for best director, realizes that Oscars don't validate his career. Hell, the man lost to Kevin Costner and John Avildsen in the past. That tells you all you need to know.

The Departed

The Departed (Martin Scorsese, 2006) [9]
Sure, this doesn't rank up there with Raging Bull or Goodfellas in terms of a crowning work of cinematic achievement, but after the relative bore of his last two films, Scorsese returns with something close to what I expect out of a Martin Scorsese picture. This is his best work since Goodfellas, and it sources the same material of that film but plays it differently. This seems more like a pure work of entertainment, and while I never like film purely as entertainment, I have to say this was one enjoyable film to watch. The film has all the filmic trademarks of a Scorsese picture: the kinetic violence, fast-paced editing, and great choice of a rock and roll soundtrack. If a film has that, it's going to be hard for me to not like it.

For the film itself, William Monahan's screenplay crackles with sharp dialogue and definitely has a keen grasp of Boston, all the way down to the institutionalized racism of the (mostly) Irish Catholic citizens. Both Monahan and Scorsese do a great job of handling the interwoven stories of the two "rats" so that it doesn't become muddled. The most interesting feature of the film is the duplicity of the Damon and DiCaprio characters, how they both exist on the same level of being, yet still manage to remain distinct individuals. They have the same task, they have the same admiration of their superiors, and they even manage to be romantically involved with the same woman. For all its action and suspense, the film really hinges on the credibility of these two characters being practically one in the same. For all the tricks Scorsese pulled out of the bag for this one, it never clouds that issue.

That being said, all the tricks Scorsese uses are better than what 98% of all other directors would have done with the material. Some credit has Thelma Schoonmaker, Scorsese's long time editor, for reigning in what could have been overly excessive, most notably Nicholson's character. There are times when you can sense Jack's doing his Jack routine, but it never manages to spoil the film. Also, the Vera Famiga character doesn't come across with same conviction as the male characters, which isn't that surprising seeing that Scorsese's films excel in a male universe. Even with that being said, The Departed is definitely a contender for my best of '06. It's not quite vintage Scorsese, but anything close is still pretty good.

A Scanner Darkly

A Scanner Darkly (Richard Linklater, 2006) [5]
Let's make this review short and sweet: I just never really got into this. The rotoscoping enhances the cloud of paranoia that encircles the film really well, and the ideas brought up (drug addiction, government surveillance, paranoia, the loss of the self) are all interesting but somehow that didn't translate into a coherent work for me. The one theme that keeps popping up when thinking about this film is Foucault's writings on the penopticon and the power of self-surveillance. One of the main themes of the film is that everybody is watching everybody, but for those who didn't take literary theory, it doesn't mean that much. I felt the performances, with the exception of Robert Downey Jr., were pretty much lackluster. My main problem stems from the fact that there's not much here in terms of images or performances that manage to stick in my mind. Now Linklater may have purposely done this, keeping everything so matter of fact, and it does work in regards to the world of the film and what Philip K. Dick was attempting to get across. But for the film as a whole, it seems to mirror its main characters in a foggy, deadened state.

Bonnaroo Lineup Leaked

This is confirmed through numerous sources. It's the real deal! And while I'm not too thrilled about the choice of headliners and no Arcade Fire or Shins (hopefulley, at least not yet), there's enough here to get me all giddy for June.

2007 Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival Confirmed Artists:
The Police
Tool
Widespread Panic
The White Stripes
Ben Harper & the Innocent Criminals
Wilco (Yeah!)
The Flaming Lips (Yeah!)
Manu Chao
The String Cheese Incident
Franz Ferdinand
Bob Weir & Ratdog
Damien Rice (Yeah)
Ween
Gov't Mule
Ziggy Marley & the Melody Makers (Yeah!)
The Decemberists (Yeah!)
Kings of Leon
Michael Franti & Spearhead
Wolfmother
Regina Spektor
Galactic
The Black Keys (Yeah!)
DJ Shadow
Gillian Welch & David Rawlings (Yeah!)
Spoon (Yeah!)
Keller Williams (WMD's)
Sasha & John Digweed
STS9
Old Crow Medicine Show (Yeah!)
The Hold Steady (Yeah!)
North Mississippi Allstars (Yeah!)
Fountains Of Wayne
Hot Tuna (Yeah!)
Feist (Yeah!!)
Hot Chip
Lily Allen
John Butler Trio
Ralph Stanley & the Clinch Mountain Boys
Aesop Rock
The Richard Thompson Band (Yeah!)
Dierks Bentley
Xavier Rudd
Gogol Bordelo
Junior Brown
Tortoise
T-Bone Burnett
Mavis Staples (Yeah!!!!!!)
Clutch
Cold War Kids(Yeah!)
Dr. Dog
Paolo Nutini
Brazilian Girls
RX Bandits
The Nightwatchman
The Slip (Yeah!)
Girl Talk
Railroad Earth (Yeah!)
Martha Wainwright
Rodrigo y Gabriela
Annuals
Tea Leaf Green (Yeah!)
Sam Roberts Band (Yeah!)
Elvis Perkins in Dearland
Charlie Louvin
Sonya Kitchell
Mute Math
Apollo Sunshine
Uncle Earl
James Blood Ulmer
The National
The Little Ones
Ryan Shaw

That's a lot of yeahs. Add to that Lewis Black, David Cross, and Dave Attell in the comedy and I already got too many decisions to make. "Tennessee, Tennesse, ain't no place I'd rather be..."

Monthly Listening Post - February 2007

It is only halfway through the month, but there have been so many new releases since I've posted the last listening post that I would forget some if I didn't do anything now. The amount of new stuff is right up there with any month since I began doing this:

1) VietNam - VietNam (this is the early front-runner for my favorite album of 2007)
2) The Shins - Wincing the Night Away (a much more musically interesting album than the previous two)
3) The Broken West - I Can't Go On, I'll Go On
4) Of Montreal - Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?
5) Various Artists - Endless Highway: The Music of the Band (My Morning Jacket nail 'It Makes No Difference')
6) Explosions In the Sky - Those Who Tell the Truth Shall Die, Those Who Tell the Truth Shall Live Forever (I just got into this band so I'm going with older material)
7) The Arcade Fire - Neon Bible (this isn't out yet, but come on, it's not that hard to find

Up here in the Norheast, we're expecting a big snowstorm into tomorrow which would normally grab my attention except tomorrow is Bonnaroo Lineup Announcement Day. The Police have already spilled the beans and are the Saturday night headliner. I'm not that big a fan but for the same price as paying for a single Police show on their upcoming tour, I can see them with a whole bunch of other acts for an entire weekend. I just have a feeling this year is going to be the best lineup ever. We'll just have to see tomorrow morning.

An Inconvenient Truth

An Inconvenient Truth (Davis Guggenheim, 2006) [7]
This site is meant to be my two-bit reviews of films released months ago; this isn't really about political discourse, something that at one time I had interests in but am now so sick of with all the shrieking hyenas on 24-hour cable news that I've become cynical of any thing that smacks of propaganda, from the right or the left. I've stated before that I'm very liberal, but didn't particularly care for the shrill tactics of Fahrenheit 9/11 or the cheap, pandering faux-liberalism of Hollywood shown in Crash. I didn't vote for Al Gore in 2000; I voted for Nader mostly because I felt Gore wasn't liberal enough on some (most) positions. I had the feeling that this film, a shoo-in for Best Documentary, was only a way for Gore to suck up to the hardcore liberals after abandoning them for the center.

There, I got all of my political baggage out of the way. As for this film, it isn't great in terms of cinema, but it does have an important, sobering message that actually makes Al Gore show traits of being a human being. The information in this film could have been portrayed a little better; at times it still feels too much like the viewpoint is skewed for left-leaning audiences. I'm not going to call it bias as all the conservative weasels would like their followers to believe. There is no denying that the information that Gore covers in the films is pretty near scientific fact: the earth is warming because of carbon emissions in the atmosphere and it is most certainly the result of human activity. Anyone douchebag that tries the whole "this is just cyclical climate change, there's no hard proof of global warming" should have to watch this A Clockwork Orange style, so when they hear someone like Limbaugh or Hannity start spewing nonsense it makes it want to puke, like the rest of rational society. When a worldwide committee of scientists released a report in the last week saying essentially the same points Gore raises in the film, it raises it above bias, doesn't it?....See, it's impossible for me to review this film without bringing my politics into it. That's the greatest weakness of the film is that those who happen to be on the opposite end of the political spectrum won't pay attention to important scientific information simply because it's Al Gore as the messenger. This film's message should be listened to by everyone, because at its essence, we owe it to future generations if 1/3 of what is being predicted actually occurs. That a good number of people, a good many of them in the Republican Party and the current administration, choose to ignore information that a majority of the rest of the world acknowledges and is trying to do something about, make me be ashamed to be an citizen of the United States.

By the way, the film would be a lot stronger if Guggenheim didn't cut into vignettes on Gore's life. It dulls the potency of his presentation and gives the Fox News crowd a reason to cry bias.

The Death of Mr. Lazerescu

The Death of Mr. Lazerescu (Cristi Puiu, 2006) [9]
When one thinks of world cinema, one of the last places that someone like myself would expect quality films to come from would be Romania. This was my first viewing of any film from Romania, and only because this film appeared on both Owen Gleiberman and Lisa Schwarzbaum's Best of 2006 lists in Entertainment Weekly. I can't make any generalizations about Romanian cinema but The Death of Mr. Lazerescu is definitely a contender for my best of 2006. The film follows the title character, a man complaining of a headache, as he's shipped from hospital to hospital in a cruel, Kafkaesque journey that encounters some of the most despicable doctors seen anywhere. The film progresses in essentially real time, and Lazerescu over that time deteriorates from a man with a headache to an incoherent man on death's door. His journey is unsettling to say the least, and while a lot of time is spent pretty much waiting and anticipating, it's still kept my attention throughout.

There are two way to look at this film: either literally, which paints Romania and its health care system as the hellhole of the world, or the way I thinks it's supposed to be seen, as a parable of humanity. Almost every review states that this was the first of a series of films Puiu intends to make. The main influence for the series was Rohmer's Six Moral Tales, which this is basically a Romanian version of one. I don't think the film has any political or social commentary to it, at least as it's main point. The film has such a documentary feel to it that makes the camera an objective observer rather than to film a point of view. The greatest strength of Puiu's direction is that he simply lets the camera observe, and not get in the way. He manages to capture all the characters: Lazerescu, the paramedic, the overwhelmed and disdainful doctors and allows them to cover the entire spectrum of emotions and possibilities. The most important moment for me is near the end, when the exhausted medic, who has been taking Lazerescu from hospital to hospital, finally gets the man into surgery, she simply leaves. In a Hollywood film,

This Film Is Not Yet Rated

This Film Is Not Yet Rated (Kirby Dick, 2006) [6]
It's a little surprising to me that it took this long for someone to make a film about the asinine rating process that the MPAA has been using for so long. Maybe it's because so many filmmakers don't really want to bite the hand that feeds them, seeing that compliance with the ratings board will help lengthen a career. Dick as a director has no such problem biting the hand that feeds him, and he does a good job of playing the pain in the ass, his persistent phone calls with the ratings and appeals board the chief examples. The film plays out best when it's the muckraking expose piece, hiring private investigators to find out who the raters are and (surprise!) they don't exactly fit the qualifications of what the MPAA says they are. Through Dick's investigation and some talking head interviews, the film paints a perfect picture of the MPAA being a shadowy, near "fascist" (Bingham Ray's words in the film) organization that while claiming to protect filmmakers from censorship, does a pretty good job of the act itself. Jack Valenti, who I feel is a career political hack on the same level as protoplasm, comes out the villain, as he should. And it is truly troubling that very few films have the balls to go without a rating, as it's clearly stated that films don't have to be rated.

Which brings me to the question, "Why didn't Kirby Dick just release the film without a rating?" In my mind, the more effective tool to get back at the ratings board would to be say screw you, you aren't necessary. But he goes through the entire appeals process, which on a filmic level makes the film more interesting in that it reveals more identities, lacks something in the way of conviction. The other weakness here is there's not enough history of films rated NC-17 or X. A few films and their examples are thrown in but Dick doesn't even go back to films like Midnight Cowboy or A Clockwork Orange. These films were rated X and yet did solid box office, received Academy Awards, or became influential films. Dick plays the victim card too much, and the more successful fights he can bring up, the stronger argument he could have had.

Leonard Cohen - I'm Your Man

Leonard Cohen - I'm Your Man (Lian Lunson, 2006) [7]
The concert film/music documentary has become so watered down and so often used as a way to make a quick buck that it truly is refreshing to see one that has some thought and craft put into it. The basis for this film was a concert given in Australia that celebrated the songs of Leonard Cohen by artists such as Rufus and Martha Wainwright, Nick Cave, Antony, Jarvis Cocker, and Bono and Edge of U2 at a separate time. While none of the names on the concert bill may leap out at someone who's idea of good music is American Idol, it seems fitting because Cohen himself was never the type of success and had the tremendous influence as someone like Bob Dylan. Personally speaking, even though I love Dylan, I find Leonard Cohen the most impressive lyricist I've ever come into contact with. The way he mixes the sacred and the profane, the serious with a touch of humor, and how he grounds it in an all too fragile reality resonate with me more than any other artist.

Outside of my appreciation for Leonard Cohen, the film is well-done for the majority of it. The concert section is restrained and well filmed. Lunson doesn't let himself over-edit with one exception, letting the performances and Cohen's words linger in the viewer. All of the performances are solid, but I think that Antony's performance of "If It Be Your Will" is exceptional, showing the soulful, sacred nature of Cohen's songs. Lunson's interviews with Cohen are also refreshing. Cohen doesn't try to make himself out to be a great artist; most of the time, he discusses where he feels he has shortcomings in his music. They are truly interesting conversations and my only wish is that there were a little bit more of them. But it's still nice to see a film that while being referential towards its subject, doesn't fawn over it making it trivial.

I Don't Give a Crap About the Oscars

Academy Award nominations were announced yesterday but I don't care about them anymore. If you want to look back in the archives, you'll find that I said that if Crash won Best Picture last year, I would boycott watching and caring about them forever. I'm a man of my word, so I'll stay away from any Oscar related news. Besides, I haven't seen enough films from this year to have a real valid opinion anyway. The Academy has a long history of dubious decisions and as of late, have been rewarding tripe like A Beautiful Mind and Crash. These films fuel the cheap liberal guilt that is rampant in Hollywood and give perfect opportunity for those vapid dingbats to think they're edgy and get it. The problem is they reward films that are emotionally manipulative and don't actually have any degree of substance or political conviction to them. There's an article by Pete Keough of The Phoenix online that pretty much sums up my feelings of what gets nominated and why. You can check it out here. I haven't seen many of these films so I can't say for certain that I feel the same about every specific performance but the gist of the story is what's important. As for my specific feelings, all I've heard about Babel is that it's Crash taking place all over the world instead of just L.A., which means it will probably win Best Picture.

Coachella Lineup

Going to Coachella has never been anything that I've wanted to do. For one thing, it's all the way on the other side of the country, which means it would cost me a small fortune to go. Plus, spending a weekend in the sweltering desert surrounded by elitist hipsters doesn't sound like that great of a time. While I may be elitist when it comes to film, music is a different story. As someone who really got into the jamband scene, Coachella was and for the most part still is the complete opposite of the spectrum. But over the past few years, I've begun to listen and enjoy more diverse ("indie) groups. My biggest problem with the hardcore fans on both sides (including jamband fans) is that they outright dismiss or look down anything that they don't consider their base.

That's pretty much beside the point I meant to make. I have to say that Coachella's lineup this year is the most intriguing I've seen. It still stays pretty close to the template they've laid down but this is the first time that there's been more than a handful of bands I would have wanted to see:

Rage Against the Machine (so I can remember what I listened to in high school)

The Arcade Fire

Willie Nelson

Manu Chao

The Decemberists

Sonic Youth

Kings of Leon

Travis

Grizzly Bear

Sparklehorse

The Black Keys

Damien Rice

Nickel Creek

The Avett Brothers

The New Pornographers

Regina Spektor

Explosions In the Sky

Of Montreal

Amos Lee

Fountains of Wayne

Gillian Welch

Plus a lot of others. Even though that's pretty good, tickets are too much ($250!!) and I'd still rather go to Bonnaroo. I hope some of these artists head to Tennessee too.

Listening Post - January 2007

It's the return of the Useless Film Snob Listening Post, where I force my music opinions on you as well. This time, we're scrounging a little as most of what I'm still listening to at this time was covered on my Best of 2006 list. This list is a little mix of older and newer.

Catfish Haven - Tell Me (A really nice '60s Soul inspired garage band with a singer with a great voice.)
The Hold Steady - Seperation Sunday (Boys & Girls In America was the first I heard of them, and I liked it so much, I had to go back to the earlier stuff.)
Old Crow Medicine Show - O.C.M.S. (They have a new album out, but I still go back to this one. They put on a good live show too.)
The Grateful Dead - Europe '72 (In my mind the best official live Dead album released. The more rootsy songs fit my preference more. Jerry's guitar is sublime on China Cat Sunflower>I Know You Rider.)

The Bonnaroo lineup should be coming out in a week or so and there already a couple of leaked confirmations: The Hold Steady, Cold War Kids, John Butler Trio, Fountains of Wayne, and Charlie Louvin. A supposed "lineup" was leaked that included Bob Dylan, Pearl Jam, Tom Waits, Willie Nelson, The Police, Band of Horses, Wilco, Ryan Adams, The Shins, and the Arcade Fire among others. While the validity of this is somewhat in question, if it even is somewhat correct, 2007 will blow 2006 out of the water.

Thank You For Smoking

Thank You For Smoking (Jason Reitman, 2006) [6]
I really don't have much to say about this, it has its funny moments and all, but I didn't feel that it was as biting as a satire as I was led to believe. Some of that probably had to do with seeing Idiocracy right before it. Anyway, Reitman seems to take swipes at all sides, not just the tobacco industry but also the shameless nature of lobbying and it bedfellows on Capitol Hill. The film gives it to the hypocrites in government just as much as the tobacco industry. As someone who has a libertarian stance on smoking, I agree with the message that smoking is a personal decision and a conscious decision that a person makes. That's basically Nick Naylor's speech at the end, but then he goes and ruins it by making the soul-searching gesture and quits. It rings hollow to me for some reason. It doesn't fit mostly because the film is much like Nick Naylor himself, smug. Aaron Eckhart does a good job of portraying the right amount of smugness all the while creating defenses for himself and what he does. Reitman as a director plays right into this, which at times makes the film too proud of itself and "its look who I'm pissing off now" attitude. This had the possibility to really get it right if it just could keep its focus and not cop out at the end.

Idiocracy

Idiocracy (Mike Judge, 2006) [6]
This film is most known for being unceremoniously dumped by 20th Century Fox into a handful theatres and not being screened for critics. That would usually mean that it's a piece of crap but it's by Mike Judge and the idea seems brilliant: a man frozen for 300 years wakes up and finds a crass, stupid culture that has made him the smartest man in the world. The result is a bit of a mixed bag but with enough biting, funny satire to make me feel that this film didn't deserve the fate it received.

Luke Wilson is great as an average guy (naturally his name is Joe) that takes part in an experiment that causes him to wake up in a future where crass commercialism has take over everything, people speak in a redneck/ebonics/profanity laced slang, and any form of intelligence gets a person labeled as a "fag." The satire Judge lays down here is clever and often hilarious. The future is a world where Starbucks offers handjobs, the Secretary of State is a pitchman for Carls, Jr., and the President is a former Ultimate Fighting Champion. It's a world where stupidity is celebrated and preferred, evidenced by two of the best scenes in the film, an exchange where the Luke Wilson character is trying to explain that water is best for growing crops but can't get the idea across because the others only can think in stupid catchphrases. The scenes with the Wilson character on trial as well as the Ow, My Balls! scenes are hilarious, mostly because they're not that far removed from the world we live in now.

My main problem with the film deals with the tone. Even though this is a satire, it just seems too mean-spirited at times. In dealing with his material, Judge finds a middle ground that can offend everybody just a little bit. Most troubling is the portrayal of the people of the future, whose language seems as veiled racism (both black and white) making fun of ebonics as well as redneck slang. The film works when it takes on commercialism and the corporate culture that is overtaking America, but when Judge lays into society as a whole, he may go t

Little Miss Sunshine

Little Miss Sunshine (Jonathan Dayton & Valerie Faris, 2006) [5]
Maybe I'm missing something but I can't find anything that explains all the hype this film has been getting. Sure, it leaves you with a nice feel-good ending and it has all the eccentric characters that can be found in any Sundance favorite. The problem for me is that there's nothing here that is really refreshing to me; the characters feel like their traits are too forced upon. They're wacky just for the sake of being wacky, something I never particularly care for. The only saving grace is Abigail Breslin as Olive, the one character in this film that has some real grounding and brings the best out of the film, mostly this nation's preoccupation with winners. Her performance is the most real and impressive in the film, even though the Greg Kinnear character is also good as the loser father obsessed with winners. But a grandfather that starts snorting heroin just because he's old? Come on. The ending does redeem the film somewhat as the shameless nature of the Little Miss Sunshine pageant is exposed to the family and the audience. We come to realize that winning isn't everything and that the Hoovers have grown as a family through all the torture they've had to endure in trying to be winners. I guess that makes you feel good but I don't know if that's what I really want out of the ending. For an ending that is somewhat rewarding, it didn't feel that deserving seeing how unimpressive I felt the everything up to that point had been.

United 93

United 93 (Paul Greengrass, 2006) [8]
This is one of the toughest films that I've written a review for mostly because I'm attempting to separate the emotional impact that the film delivers, which is undoubtedly the strongest I can remember in sometime, and where this stands as a film. There is no doubt that this film has an emotional impact; for me, it was the feeling of complete helplessness as you know where the film is going and what the final outcome will be. Yet as the film unfolds and the people on that flight are shown, the anxiety within me grows as I know what is coming. That's the extraordinary power this film has, especially for the first hour or so leading to the hijacking of the flight, when you know what's going to happen and are helpless to either stop it or just get it over with.

The director of United 93 is Paul Greengrass, who made Bloody Sunday, an amazing film about the violent 1972 clash between Irish Catholic demonstrators and Protestant, British police in Northern Ireland. The docudrama style of that film fits perfectly here, as it allows to capture everything just as it happens, not allowing point of view to come into play, which would have crippled the film. Greengrass does a great job of creating a taut, streamlined film that conveys the frantic action on the flight as well as the bewilderment and near incompetence of the people on the ground trying to figure out what to do and what's going on. The first half of the film is immensely effective, creating a powerful amount of nail-biting tension that is released as the hijackers take over the flight. From then on, Greengrass does a good job of keeping the film focused and not becoming emotionally manipulative. He does a good job of keeping the hijackers human and not some kind of action movie villain cliches. And all in all, the film becomes a memorial to those who did what they did on that flight without turning the events into a jingoistic rallying cry. But as a film, it seems too preoccupied in being a memorial, evidenced in the title cards at the end. The actions of those onboard were no doubt heroic but the film differentiates between those who acted and the ones that did nothing. We can never be sure what happened down to exact details, what actually happened and what we want to believe happened. Even though, this is still an impactful film.

McCabe & Mrs. Miller

McCabe & Mrs. Miller (Robert Altman, 1971) [10]
Ever since Robert Altman's death, I've been going over his body of work and have come to the conclusion that he is quite possibly my favorite director. This is the third Altman film I have given a perfect score to, along with The Long Goodbye and Short Cuts. A lot of reviews state this film is an anti-western, a perfect example of the genre deconstructionist that Altman was. That's not quite true; the film isn't a western in the typical Hollywood style but the characters, McCabe, a gambler who thinks he's smarter than he is played by Warren Beatty, and the humanistic prostitute played by Julie Christie are archetypical western characters. It's how Altman portrays them on the screen that raises them above standard characterization. There is an underlying melancholy in the characters, not just in their actions and mannerisms but in the film as a whole. The setting is consistently dreary, cloudy, and always raining and snowing. You can just get the feeling that the only result for McCabe and Mrs. Miller is failure. They, like the town, are doomed from the start.

This all leads back to the most prominent aspects of the film, the look and sound of it. Almost every review mentions the muddy overlapping sound, an Altman trademark, as well as the look of the film, most of which was accomplished by flashing the negative before filming. This is where the film truly lies for me. The look and sound of the film is key for the overall theme of the film. When I think of this film, I think of muddiness, not just the aesthetics, but also the town of Presbyterian Church as well as the characters themselves. The opening scene where McCabe first comes into town is as close to a perfect sequence as I could imagine. But its also the jumping point for many. The scene is so dark and the soundtrack so muddled that if you don't get it, it's better to just turn off this film and forget about it. Altman lays it all out early; this isn't going to be some pristine John Ford western, in look or theme. It's the complete difference in form that makes McCabe & Mrs. Miller so difficult yet so rewarding to those who understand what Altman wants out of it.

Also, the use of the Leonard Cohen songs in the film are absolutely phenomenal, especially the scenes when the prostitutes first arrive and 'Sisters of Mercy' is playing. Brilliant.

Useless Film Snob Book Report - Rebels on the Backlot

Rebels On the Backlot: Six Maverick Directors and How They Conquered the Hollywood Studio System - Sharon Waxman, 2005

In an effort to diversify this site and make it a little better, we're starting a new feature called Useless Film Snob Book Reports, where I'll try to give my opinions on what I've been reading as inarticulately as possible. First up is New York Times Hollywood reporter (not a great first description) Sharon Waxman's account of how Spike Jonze, Paul Thomas Anderson, Quentin Tarantino, David O. Russell, David Fincher, and Steven Soderbergh invaded the studio system and against all odds, somehow managed to make credible, artistic movies in the vacuous, money-grubbing world that are the major studios. At least that's what Waxman wants you to believe. Actually, it's a little more nuanced than that. Let's be honest here; these filmmakers aren't exactly breaking the mold that much. While these films they made may be good, some great, some had major stars in them, made a sizable profit, or were prestige pictures made for awards. There is some truth that these weren't exactly "safe" pictures but the glaring failure of Waxman's book is she is trying to equate these directors and their work in the studio system to what was going on in the late 60's and 70's. What the current directors lack is the cultural significance and widespread appeal that people like Coppola, Friedkin, Altman, Scorsese, and others had in the 70's. So problem number one is Waxman overreaches here a bit. Pulp Fiction may have been a zeitgeist film, but the others covered in the book didn't become cultural benchmarks.

Another problem Waxman has is that she clearly read Peter Biskind's two fantastic books, Easy Riders, Raging Bulls about the 70's period and his Sundance/Miramax book, Down and Dirty Pictures, and cribs heavily from them, especially the latter. She lifts entire sections dealing with Tarantino from Biskind's book and plops right into her story. While Biskind's book had its fair share of gossip and innuendo, everything is told in such a fair and entertaining matter. Waxman seems to have a pre-occupation with showing every director's personality flaws that she practically forgets about the films themselves, which is especially the case with Anderson and Tarantino. This makes Waxman seem more like the shallow Hollywood reporter more concerned with gossip and celebrities' personal lives than a true author really getting into the art of filmmaking, which Biskind does a lot better.

All this leads to the more glaring weakness of the book, the number of factual errors in the book, which are astounding seeing this was published through a major company. All the examples have been discussed other places but two of the ones I can't get out of my mind is that she states that Rushmore was Wes Anderson's first film and that Julia Stiles played Michael Douglas's daughter in Traffic. It seems Waxman and her editor(s) haven't actually seen the films of the directors she's writing about, which would explain the lack of any credible analysis of the work besides Fight Club is violent and Magnolia is long. A book with glaring errors like this makes it hard for me to take it as a serious work by an author who knows what she's talking about. I bought this book because I happen to like the films that these directors made and wanted to know more about the process of how they got made. But Waxman does such a slipshod job of making her argument in the book that I came away thoroughly disappointed.