No Country For Old Men

No Country For Old Men (Joel & Ethan Coen, 2007) [10]

As this site and my film viewing have been intensified, my discretion has also become much more nuanced. 2006, for example, has yielded only one film to receive a ten. The simple fact of the matter is that what qualifies as a near perfect work of filmmaking has to be really good. No Country For Old Men is that good. A story that grabs you, partly exhilarating an yet jarring. Performances that are pitch perfect for the film. And more than anything, the superb execution of story, acting, editing, cinematography, and whatever else to show that the filmmaker has full control. The Coen brother exhibit all this in this, the best of 2007 so far, and their best film to date.

On the surface, the story deals with a drug deal gone bad and the violent consequences for those who happened to be involved in its details. Llewelyn Moss (Josh Brolin) just happens to stumble onto the bodies and the money, takes it, and a little while realizes he's done something he probably shouldn't have. Llewelyn is a typical noir hero, an ordinary man thrown into events and consequences way beyond his handling but somehow unaware of it. The pull of the two million dollars is too much for Llewelyn to just leave it alone; the inherent greediness of man, whether it be money or blood, is a key undercurrent of the film. Even from the outset, Llewelyn knows everything may not end smoothly but yet he still takes his chances. It's an intriguing element especially as he digs his grave even deeper. The man after Llewelyn and the money, Anton Chigurgh (Javier Bardem) will stop at nothing to do what needs to be done. Anton is one of the most mesmerizing and terrifying characters I've come across in film in quite some time. He is a man so psychologically twisted that a coin flip will decide whether a man lives or dies but yet it still operates as part of his moral fiber. As one character says, Chigurgh does have principles, no matter how they jet out from accepted morality. He sticks to his word and he will get the money back even if numerous others have to be murdered. Chigurgh exists in the film as a mythical figure, a ghost, as he almost miraculously slips away from situation after situation with almost no trace of him ever being there. Bardem imbues him with a eerie calmness, an emotional flatness that makes Anton almost not human but still a truly terrifying person. The film focuses on the cat and mouse game between the two, with Sheriff Bell (Tommy Lee Jones) haplessly trailing behind. I won't give away too much of what happens but things turn out they way they were expected.

The Coens have been remarkably faithful to Cormac McCarthy's novel while still giving the picture a little more. Roger Deakins is masterful, capturing the desolate isolation of the deserts of West Texas, encasing the characters in a rugged, vast emptiness which allows for anything goes. What the Coens do so well is create a taut, thrilling storytelling while still capturing the meditative rumination of McCarthy's prose. Sherriff Bell is the moral signpost of the film, a man too old and not ready to adapt the new type of criminals like Chigurgh running around. Jones plays Bell as a man exasperated at the audacious violence of these crimes as well as a man resigned to know he can't handle what's in front of him. This leads into the ending, which I know a lot of people will say there isn't one. Those people should realize that films don't need to have a tidy resolution. There is no resolution to this story. Crime and violence like this are going to continue and what Bell and the film are trying to explain that there are always going to be people who feel that the times have passed them by wondering how they got that way. Most filmgoers have been so indoctrinated by crappy Hollywood films to expect and feel entitled to an easy, tidy resolution. If they can't handle that a film is going to be a little open-ended and challenging, I feel sorry for you. The ending makes sense in the grander metaphorical world of the film. To say it plainly, the Coens have made a film that stands far above almost anything else released this year.

La Vie en Rose

La Vie en Rose (Olivier Dahan, 2007) [6]

Haven't we had enough of musical biopics with their protagonists overcoming personal demons and tragedy to achieve stardom? I would expected a little bit more with a film about French singer Edith Piaf than pictures like Walk the Line and Ray but sadly, Dahan plays it just as safe and middlebrow as them. Formally, it is much more adventurous than the American films but the story still falls into the same formula that I've grown tired with. Everything gets covered in this film: Edith's poverty ravaged childhood with an itinerant parents, her childhood bout with sickness only to be "saved", her near miraculous discovery and her subsquent stardom only to be scarred with personal demons and tragedy. The one main difference for Piaf is that her career highs seem to come paired with something just as tragic. Louis Leplee, the man who discovered her, is murdered by people out of Edith's shady past. Her only true lover, boxer Marcel Cerdan, dies in a plane crash on his way to meet her. Morphine and alcohol dependency as well as arthritis and a car crash slowly cripple her body until she finally dies at the age of 48. This continuing undercurrent of inescapable tragedy is the real thematic core of the story and it is refreshing to see Dahan not shy away from it and try to end the film on a brighter note. This leads to the fractured narrative of the film, where Dahan uses Piaf's last few years as an anchor to be able to go back into the past and explore the deeper tragedies that shaped how Edith ended up much older than her years. A lot of review have called Dahan's jumbling of narrative a mess, which I just don't see. Are American filmgoers and critics reached a critical mass of stupidity that the use of the narrative device is so perplexing? It has a thematic resonance for the film and its really the film's strongest plus for me. Most every review raves about Marion Cotillards's performance but I'm less sold on it than them apparently. No matter how hard they may think they're not trying to mimic Piaf, Dahan and Cotillard are making a film about a real person and mimicry is almost impossible to avoid in re-creating a character. Cotillard's performance has a little too much showmanship and excessive emotion for my liking. I don't know that much about Edith Piaf but Cotillard's go for broke moments just aren't what I'm looking for. Still, her performance and the film are an admirable effort but this film gets too trapped in its conventions to get above mild approval.

Before the Devil Knows You're Dead

Before the Devil Knows You're Dead (Sidney Lumet, 2007) [8]

When I think of Sidney Lumet's films, I think of them being expertly crafted and enjoyable but I never happen to think of the man as an auteur. It's that craftsman like precision that really keeps Lumet from having the identifiable style of contemporaries like Scorsese and Altman. After seeing this film, I happen to feel the same way. This is an excellent thriller with some tremendous performances and fantastic moments but still lacks just a little bit.

Andy (Phillip Seymour Hoffman) and Hank (Ethan Hawke) are some brothers who need money. Andy comes up the idea to rob their parents jewelry store, the idea being that it's as close as you can get to the perfect crime. The problem is the robbery doesn't go as easily as planned and the rest of the film goes back and forth between characters and time to tell of the crime's reasons, planning, and consequences. Lumet jumps back and forth into time and his emphasis on character's. One sequence will focus on Hank after the robbery and we get some information that gets thrown about on Andy which is explained more in depth when Andy becomes the focus of the story. This non-linear storyline makes the film much more interesting than if it was told in a straight line. It fractured and frantic pace help re-enforce that the characters feel the same, racing to decipher everything that's going on. My one qualm is that Lumet does this a little too overtly, spelling out this is 'Andy: one week after the robbery' etc. and using a jarring flashing to change perspective. I know the perception of the average moviegoer is that they're a moron but someone of Lumet's stature isn't getting that audience. Give me a little more respect; I can figure out what's going on without having to be told who the story's focusing on now.

The performances here are solid especially Hoffman as the bullying, oily older brother. Ethan Hawke, who I don't care much about, does a good job playing the younger, weaker brother. There are some scenes between the two after everything has unraveled that are just electric, with Hoffman stealing the scene. Hawke is smart enough to know Hank's role and let Hoffman dominate. Albert Finney is there to fill the need of the father, whose relationship with his sons plays a key underlying plot point in the film. As the story progresses and things get more unhinged, the film becomes more than just a heist film. It becomes about family, the bonds that it creates and also the dysfunction that can lasting consequences. There's a lot of baggage between all three of these characters and the robbery becomes a microcosm to explore everyone and their issues. Lumet does a great job of laying all this out even though I'm not quite sold on the end. Even at 83, Sidney Lumet can still show younger filmmakers how to make a entertaining and very good film.

Glengarry Glen Ross

Glengarry Glen Ross (James Foley, 1992) [9]

On many occasions, it may seem when reviewing films, that I spend more time talking about arcane ideas like form and composition of images. Story and acting are never really that important when talking about auteur theory and aesthetics. This film is all dialogue and performances and I happen to think it's exceptional at those areas. If you want to talk about it as a film, it isn't much more than a filmed stage play but after all, that's all it was. This isn't real James Foley's film, even though he does a good job of standing back and letting his actors chew their meaty roles. (Side note: James Foley is the only notable director that I've ever met; it's not important to the review, I just wanted to get it out there.) David Mamet and his dialogue are still the stars of the film. It crackles with sarcasm, profanity, desperation, and an utter lack of candor. Even though it's big and loud, the dialogue is all we know of the salesman and their world, the phantom (?) properties, and what is exactly going on. It's never clear whether this whole real estate business is a scam, and whose these people really are beyond their bluster. It's never really that important in that the whole film is in the now, not concerned with any past. The film really hinges on the actors' performances and really they couldn't be much better. Pacino, Harris, and Baldwin are perfect for their parts but no discussion can go on further without Jack Lemmon as Shelley. Clearly the basis for my favorite Simpsons character, Gil, Lemmon plays Shelley with a mix of desperation, envy, and failure that sums up everything about the film. Shelley constantly lives in the past, touting himself as 'the machine', of bragging of past accomplishments mostly because he has no where else to go but to the absolute bottom. It's really what these characters are grasping for; fighting to accomplish something (a Cadillac, good leads, the feeling of success) in order to stave off the stench of failure and total defeat that looms over the entire picture. It's a fight that by the end ends with its expected outcome.

The Essential Collection - Out of the Past

Out of the Past (Jacques Tourneur, 1947) [10]

Tournerur is one of the great forgotten noir directors and I'm hard pressed to find another film noir that is as great as this one. Quite simply, it's one of my favorite films ever made. Robert Mitchum is perfect as Jeff Markham or Jeff Bailey, depending on the situation, a "detective" that gets ensnared with a femme fatale played by Jane Greer and shadowy rich man, done with the right amount of smug charm by Kirk Douglas. The true meat and potatoes of the story are like many other noirs, full of twists, set-ups, and double crosses. Markham was initially hired by Sterling (Douglas) to track down the femme fatale who had shot him and stole his money. Markham tracks her down in Mexico only to become enamored by her and help her allude Sterling. Their entanglements eventually lead to a murder and situation in which Markham retreats to a small town and becomes Bailey. Sterling's men happen to track Bailey down and he owing them a big favor, has no choice but to accept. Of course it's a set-up and once again, Bailey's weakness shows as the woman entraps him. There's no outcome but an untimely death.

What is unique about this film is how it tells its story. The entire background story is told in a flashback, Mitchum doing the first-person narration. The entire narrative ellipses takes up most of the first half of the film, in which we learn everything about who Bailey was and how he ended up where he was. It's odd to see a studio film of the era use elliptical narrative structure so prominently and more so, so successfully. The story told in the flashback flows so seamlessly that it never feels clunky or a waste. It's most important because that sequence is crucial to developing the characters for the second half of the film. Mitchum excels as the typical noir protagonist, an (now) ordinary man thrown into extraordinary circumstances. He plays Jeff with the right amount of casual indifference and grim understanding of what exactly he got himself into with Kathie. He recognizes his weakness at resisting women and Greer plays her role with the steely understanding that Jeff will do almost anything she asks. They're performances of what you expect out of any film noir with their mannerisms and language but somehow they make it seem go beyond genre. Tourneur's direction is flawless in that he doesn't let film noir stereotypes take over. He lets the actors act and the story do its work. Out of the Past also goes beyond genre; sometimes, film noir is held to different standards than other films but this is a great film, film noir or not.

Stranger Than Paradise

Stranger Than Paradise (Jim Jarmusch, 1985) [8]

Jarmusch's minimalist debut film is a richer, much more complex film than it appears on its surface. It deals with many more deeper meanings than just its deadpan exterior. A lot of the praise for the film really ignores the story itself and deals mostly with its form, a series of static sequences all delivered with a dry, deadpan sense of humor. There's a lot I like about Jarmusch's style but also happen to feel what happens in this film also is interesting. Willie is an immigrant now living in New York, hustling with his friend Eddie to make a living. His life gets thrown out of whack by his visiting cousin from Hungary, Eva, on her way to Cleveland. It's clear that the two have not much in common from their tastes in music to clothing. By using the form he does, Jarmusch is really able to strip a lot of extraneous elements away so the ideas of foreigners and assimilation really come to mind. It's this clash of differing cultures that gives the film its humor, especially the scene with the t.v. dinners. Eventually Eva goes to Cleveland and after a questionable poker game, Willie and Eddie decide to take a road trip. They visit Eva and Aunt Lotte. They go to see Lake Erie but its frozen and windswept. The three decide to head to Florida, to perceived paradise. What happens in Florida can be described as a bit of misunderstandings that allow for a humorous ending. It may not seem like much is going on in the story, but I feel that Jarmusch is describing America to some extent. Someone like Eva comes to America expecting big things but is stuck in a lousy job in a city with lousy weather. Willie and Eddie aren't much better off. The expectations of Florida is of a grand playground but all Jarmusch shows are race tracks, highways, and motels. The reason why this works instead of being pointless is that by using the structure of the film leaves some detachment for the viewer from the characters in all their restless glory. Stranger than Paradise paints a sketch of characters on the edges of the American dream who wish to find the promise of America but end up still searching. But Jarmusch creates an almost sealed off universe where America for these characters aren't palm trees and sunshine and is instead more drab and pointless than many of us would want to believe. What this film does show is maybe that world is more honest than the ideal one.

Hey! Why is this Bright Eyes concert get full of immature assholes?

Went to the glorious Magic City Music Hall in beautiful Johnson City, NY on Wednesday to see Bright Eyes' first and last performance in my hometown. When this was initially announced I was completely shocked, seeing that Magic City's forte is mostly washed-up classic rockers and shitty metal bands, and wondered what type of crowd would go. I just had a feeling that it wouldn't go that well, and I was sort of right. The crowd was pretty good sized but may have been the worst I've ever been a part of. Coming of age in the jam band scene makes going to a Bright Eyes concert an uncomfortable proposition and between all the plaid shirts and emo college kids, I really felt out of place. But what was the worst was the overall immaturity of the crowd. Between all constant talking and cell phone bullshit, it was like half of this crowd had never been to a concert before. This might have had something to do with looked like half the crowd being underage but still, that's no excuse from given the performers on stage a little respect. When a group is doing a quiet song, the audience should actually shut up and listen. Conor didn't really help himself as he grew perpetually drunker and belligerent as the night went on. I've heard about the drunk show stories and while it didn't really affect his overall performance, it was just another blight on the night. I could understand his frustration with the crowd though as the band actually cut one quieter song out because the crowd just wouldn't shut up. If the Binghamton area is actually wants to get more quality concerts, the people going to them should stop acting like assholes and appreciate an artist like Conor Oberst actually came. I doubt he'll ever be back again. At least I'll be in Portland in a couple of months where people actually appreciate actual music.

On an unrelated note but something I wanted to address, Norman Mailer, someone who I have great apprectiation for as an author, passed away last week. As a person, Mailer was a pretty dislikable man to many different groups and his general boorishness has a unique appeal. There's no denying that the man was a talented writer and that being a prick shouldn't disqualify his literary achievements. Read The Executioner's Song and find out.

Army of Shadows

Army of Shadows (Jean-Pierre Melville, 1969) [7]

Every once and a while, for whatever reason, I find it hard to get into a film. The most notable example of this was my first viewing Exotica, after which I didn't quite like. I changed my mind after a second viewing and hopefully the same can be said for this film, which I can't quite see as the masterpiece the majority of critical reviews have given it. The film is described as a thriller but there wasn't a whole lot of action. Melville pays crucial attention to the behaviors and interior processes of his characters more than their actions. Granted, there are a few action sequences throughout but I found the film more of a psychological examination of the French Resistance more than something like the Bourne films. The film's strength relies in its examination of the characters and their actions, led by mannered looking Philippe. Melville spends a lot of time focusing on reactions, letting the camera linger to capture the true emotion of the situations the characters are in. One of the main themes is the necessary actions of what those in the Resistance were doing but being knocked up against using ruthless tactics not that much different than the Nazis. Traitors must be executed, people will die, and these characters have to come to some acceptance of their actions. Netflix calls the film bleak and uncompromising, with which I have to agree, and maybe this might be the cause of my issue with the film. I just find it too strenuous at times with its omnipresent downbeat nature. I also feel the film was too long and maybe for one a little streamlining of action wouldn't be too bad. All this doesn't mean that I don't think Army of Shadows is a bad film; it isn't, it's just that I don't see the masterpiece that many want to believe.

Year of the Dog

Year of the Dog (Mike White, 2007) [5]

In Mike White's films, especially The Good Girl and Chuck & Buck, his characters very often have very disturbing personality traits but somehow manage to come across as harmless despite their disturbances. My biggest problem with this film is that is how Peggy (Molly Shannon) comes across to me and I just don't buy it. This doesn't mean Peggy's characterization is wrong; the supporting characters themselves are so wrapped up in their own preoccupations that they are all conveniently oblivious to Peggy's tailspin. The film as a whole works in its logic, it just my personal opinion that I don't like how it turns out. Peggy's transformation after the death of her dog turns her into a very traumatized and dangerous person. Peggy's deterioration comes off mostly as harmless and by the end, everything gets resolved, not completely happy, but there is resolution. What I'm trying to say is that I find it hard to believe what happens to here would not be noticed by somebody and the resolution of her conflict would be a little bit more substantive. Peggy turns into a vegan animal rights activist and while I don't think that automatically makes her a "nut", I think the way Shannon plays it makes it very hard to get away from some preconceived notions about PETA and their ilk. It's a shame my outside baggage weighs this film down because there are some really good performances here, especially by Shannon who does a great job skipping back and forth from emotional states. Even with all of her disturbances and trauma, her character still wants to be seen as harmless and for once in a Mike White written film, I have a hard time believing.

Knocked Up

Knocked Up (Judd Apatow, 2007) [6]

As I've stated before, I'm a huge fan of Freaks & Geeks and Undeclared which maybe means I'm expecting too much of Apatow's films. This along with the 40 Year Old Virgin have their laughs but they really aren't that impressive overall. This is a solidly executed film but it really isn't the kind of revelatory piece that critics painted it to be. Maybe when you release a film in the shitstorm that is the summer movie season, anything that is even watchable becomes a masterpiece. For the actual film, it just drags too much in the beginning and really only gets its footing (and most of its laughs) when the focus moves to the Rogen and Heigl characters' relationship issues. Too much of the film is spent on the sophomoric aspects of Ben's friends which I could really do without. Apatow formally as a director doesn't do anything but get the basics across, not doing anything to emphasize the emotional complexities the film has. It's rare to see a film like this tackle the issues of marriage and raising children with such a real mix of joy, humor, and depression as this. The greatest strength of the film is that it places all the neuroses of marriage and kids right out there, whether it be the doubt if you're in the right relationship or if you can actually be a fit father. The end of the film is quite conservative, and while I'm not begrudging it, it jostles with my sensibilities. Is it quite necessary? What exactly has Ben learned besides cleaning up his superficial personality traits? I guess it all comes down to what you want out of this film; if you wanted laughs and a tidy ending you got it but I think there could have been a bit more to what Knocked Up actually is.

By Brakhage

I was in the cinema program at Binghamton University which is much more based in experimental film than narrative film. After all, the program was founded by Ken Jacobs, one of the most revered people in the genre. I rarely saw any of Jacobs' work but the one filmmaker who was the cornerstone of everything the program stood for was Stan Brakhage. Brakhage is the single most influential experimental filmmaker of the 20th century, at least in terms of creating a certain genre of experimental film, the lyrical film as defined by P. Adams Sitney in his book Visionary Film. For Sitney, lyrical film is film where the one behind the camera is the protagonist of said film. Everything seen through the camera is a first person viewpoint of the events as they are seen by the protagonist. Lyrical film is also defined by the constant movement of the camera as well as constant movement of images. Brakhage fits this description but there's more to his works than that. He has an inherent romanticism about him that flows through his work, especially his earlier work, that give his films a personality that keeps them from being didactic and sterile. Only a portion of his vast output is in this Criterion set, and sadly there is no Anticipation of the Night (1962), which I feel is his most accomplished work.



There are two phases to Brakhage's career: his earlier, more lyrical works and his later, non-lyrical works, which are almost exclusively him painting directly on film. I'm not going to cover anything about those mostly because I feel that they have more to do with modern art than film. A big discussion can be brought up about what exactly these film are and how they operate in the filmic world and all but frankly, I don't find them nearly as interesting as the image film (for lack of a better term). All the Brakhage film I'd seen at Binghamton were these, and all of them are somewhat similar in structure. There are a lot of quick movements, superimposition, and contrast of a variety of images. The standout piece on the collection is Window Water Baby Moving (1962), which graphically depicts childbirth. Brakhage takes the birth footage and cuts in shots of water, light, and the body to create something that comes out that's much prettier than one would expect. I had seen this a couple of years before and had a hard time getting past the childbirth footage but seeing it again, the meticulous nature of the cuts creates a very good film. Cat's Cradle (1959) is similar in structure and more obtuse, dealing more with sexual tension. Mothlight (1963) is one of Brakhage's most memorable pieces in that it consists entirely of moth wings and parts glued to film and projected. It's an awe-inspiring film in regards to its labor and effort put in but it just doesn't quite grab me as much as the lyrical work. Of all Brakhage's later works, only Comingled Containers (1997) does anything to intrigue me. It forsakes paint for water and the contrast of aquatic imagery harkens back to the lyrical films in a way that not much work of that time does.

The Act of Seeing With One's Own Eyes (1971) is the closest to an actual documentary Brakhage ever gets. It is footage entirely of autopsies and I actually didn't have as much of a problem with this as when I saw Window Water Baby Moving for the first time. It's almost a linear film in its progression and with much more static shots and edits, it doesn't feel quite like typical Brakhage.

Brakhage's self-described epic, Dog Star Man (1964) is his crowning achievement and one of the best experimental films ever made. That being said, even for me, it is an extremely difficult film to get through. Just because a film is difficult doesn't mean that it's not great or there aren't redeeming qualities about it. Shot in five parts, a prelude and four acts, it's a romantic observation of man, his dreams, and his interaction with the world. It's really difficult to try and boil down all the ideas in it to a paragraph or so but it's really about a man's search for truth and beauty in the world around him. It's Brakhage's most aesthetically accomplished work, with layers upon layers of superimpositions and images. It can become such an overload of imagery that it becomes hard to really focus on certain aspects for too long, especially towards the end of the Prelude and Act I. Even though, its achievement of filmmaking artistry is so impressive that the construction of the film is the center for me. Along with Scorpio Rising and Wavelength, Dog Star Man is one of the experimental films that define the genre for me. I know this kind of work isn't for everyone but for anyone with an interest in experimental film, Brakhage's work is not to be missed.

Monthly Listening Post - October 2007

Not much this month but one really good discovery in The Cave Singers, whose debut should crack my year-end top ten.

The Cave Singers - Invitation Songs
Band of Horses - Cease to Begin
The Thrills - Teenager
Ryan Adams & the Cardinals - Follow the Lights

The Essential Collection: American Movie

American Movie (Chris Smith, 1999)

It's been five years since I've seen this and while my overall viewpoint of the film has changed a bit, it's still at its heart a really good film about a really earnest man. When I first saw this, I couldn't help but laugh at Mark Borchardt, his antics, and his friends. After seeing this again, I really feel more sorry for him than anything. It's hard to tell what Borchardt really thinks of Smith but there's no doubt Smith is using Borchardt and his friends, especially Mike Schank for their comedy more than their ambitions. That doesn't mean that that doesn't come out in the film; what Smith also does is capture the ultimate filmmaker's film about a man whose only ambition is to make a film. For every comic trait Borchardt has, from his way of talking to his drinking problem to his mostly naive view of the film industry, he also has more ability than the film wants to give him credit for. He knows enough about filmmaking to have some good ideas and shots but the film doesn't really want to focus on that. It's Borchardt Hell-be-damned goals that are really the most important elements of the film, not everything that goes wrong. That brings me to the one issue I have: that the film perceives these characters as unrealistic imbeciles at times. I don't think it's entirely harmful to the film but it's a question that lingers in the back of my mind, mostly because these characters are oblivious that they were going to be laughed at. I feel bad for a guy like Mike, who has clearly taken one acid trip too many as told by himself in the film and is a clueless burnout used mostly for laughs. The problem is it's almost impossible to not laugh and Smith has for better or not, crafted an expert comedy. Even after all these years, American Movie is still a very good film but it's hard to determine if it was actually good for the ones that were in it.

Jesus Camp

Jesus Camp (Heidi Ewing & Rachel Grady, 2006) [4]
There's something quite disturbing about this documentary and it doesn't come from the Evangelicals and their actions that populate this film. What's more disturbing to myself is the whiff of exploitation that comes out of this. It's quite obvious that the Evangelical movement are exploiting this kids for their own political and social motivations, indoctrinating them into thoughts and ideas that kids shouldn't really have to grapple with at such an early age. That being said, Ewing and Grady are just as responsible for exploiting these kids who obviously have no clear grasp of how they are going to be portrayed. I'm not one of these people that are overprotective of kids but there were a handful of instances in this film that made me angry and uncomfortable with the way the adults, the filmmakers included, use these kids for their own personal advantages.

I don't really think political views have anything to do with reviewing a film so I will keep what I personally think of the Evangelical movement to myself. The film should have had good enough sense to do the same. Ewing and Grady bring a liberal viewpoint to this and they really didn't. Let the viewer decide for themselves what they think of these events. There may not be any agreement with the views of the people in the film, but let the film put it out there and have everyone make their own decision. The blundering use of an ominous soundtrack and the Air America Radio type asides do not have to be in this film. At the end of the film, the radio host and the children's' pastor have a conversation in which the host voices the same concerns I had. Watching the film, I feel that kids should be able to be kids and make these decisions about religion and morality on their own free will. I already had that assumption from the film, I don't need the film to tell it to me. Ewing and Grady are using these kids to help a political agenda and that's just wrong, as the S-CHIP debate has shown. Just leave the kids alone and go after the ones here that really deserve scorn, the adults facilitating this.

The Films of Kenneth Anger, Volume 2

The first volume of Kenneth Anger's collected work came out a while back but what I was really looking forward to was Volume 2, solely because of Scorpio Rising. I happens to be one of my top ten films of all time and having it out on DVD gets it out there beyond film classes, where incidentally, I have seen almost all these films before. Here we go with the grades:

Scorpio Rising (1964) [10]
In my mind, Anger's masterpiece. Its style and form have become so influential on later filmmakers and styles. With its frenetic cuts and rock & roll soundtrack, its easy to see its influence on someone like Scorsese as well as being a template for the music video revolution. The film itself is masterfully arranged with Anger starting off with a lot of slow pans of motorcycles with the film gradually becoming more kinetic as the action increases. Anger inter cuts outside footage of a film about Jesus as well as some Nazi and occult imagery to great effect. The inter cutting between the Scorpio character going out and the footage of Jesus is funny and right on in making a correlation. The ideas of ritual and the occult that Anger will later cover more in depth rear up in the motorcycle culture. Anger spends a good amount of the film showing Scorpio and the others preparing to go out, the clothes they wear, the mythology involved with the motorcycle culture. Of course, the film shows the homoerotic aspects of this culture, the idea of leather and chains that has become a stereotype of a gay subculture. I think too much has been made of this aspect; Scorpio Rising get pegged as a "gay film" when it really has little explicitly to do with it. It's more a film about ritual and ultimately sacrifice with the motorcycle race and the deadly end. The real power of Scorpio Rising is that it takes a lot of mundane stuff and arranges it in a way that creates something fresh and exciting. To me, it's a landmark of experimental cinema.


Kustom Kar Kommandos (1965) [5]
Besides the tongue in cheek title, there isn't really anything about this that makes it stand out. It feels too much like Scorpio Rising outtakes, except with cars instead of motorcycles. A lot of the same as Scorpio in terms of form. Lots of pans, Bressonian focus on objects, and that rock and roll soundtrack. At only 3 minutes, it doesn't do much to leave a big impression.


Invocation of My Demon Brother (1969) [7]
The most experimental of all the works on this collection, it's also probably the most divisive film of the set. What was originally film for a first version of Lucifer Rising, it's a film that focuses heavily on the occult and the black magic of Aleister Crowley. The crux of the footage is Anger performing his "magik" ritual in which a God of light is born from opposites. Don't ask me how it happens; what sells the film for me is the editing and images which is the closest Anger comes to approximating the style of Brakhage. The droning Moog score by Mick Jagger, who also appears briefly, is either going to repulse or intrigue you.


Rabbit's Moon (1979 Version) [6]
This is the first version of Rabbit's Moon I saw and I really don't feel much different about either one. This version is a bit more streamlined in terms of what shots are shown, as there is much more repetition of action in this version. This causes the story Anger wanted to tell, of a Japanese fable that a rabbit lives in the moon, to lose some of it focus but forms trumps story here. The use of the XTC song feels disjointed to what's being shown but it has a certain topical relevance that makes it work.


Lucifer Rising (1981) [4]
The most puzzling film for me, and another film about ritual and black magic. It has similarities to Scorpio in that regard but it much more direct in the occult and symbols. The film is flooded with them from Egyptian symbols to the occult to mystical spaceships. It creates too much of an image overload with no real discernible theme outside of that of ritual. Speaking on a formal note, there's just something that feels off about this film. Anger is a filmmaker of such a certain style and this doesn't feel like an Anger film to me.


Continuing on an experimental binge, I've gotten the By Brakhage anthology through Netflix so a comprehensive Stan Brakhage retrospective will be coming in the next week or two. Even though I've seen a good portion of his work, I wanted to seen everything again to really give a good opinion.

Inland Empire

Inland Empire (David Lynch, 2006) [5]

I don't want to be someone taking a director to task for being too self-indulgent or not knowing when to edit because I generally believe in the auteur theory and giving directors the benefit of the doubt. The problems with this film is what I mentioned above. It is a film that has some very interesting things going on but is too rambling and incohesive to make much sense. David Lynch has never been one to have a straightforward narrative, which I'm not talking about when I talk about this film not making sense. Speaking on a formal level, this has too much going on to make it work. Some things seem downright unnecessary, from the rabbit headed characters sitcom to the film within a film within a film and (I'm assuming) the ex-flames of the male star of the film within a film. Lynch throws so much into this that he really weakens the strength of the film which is the Laura Dern character's journey. If Lynch were to just focus on her, it would have been a shorter, and greater film. Dern is absolutely fearless in her role, and the scenes with her are truly the most memorable. As the film goes, she descends deeper into a filmic world where the reality we're given at the beginning and the supposed film become more and more indistinguishable. This blurriness of temporal space is probably the most irritating feature to someone watching accustomed to narrative. This isn't a film that conventional narrative can be found and it shouldn't be applied either. Inland Empire is Lynch's most experimental work and it should really be looked at in regards to experimental film. That being said, in my mind the one major reason experimental film can go wrong is if it becomes too self-indulgent. Inland Empire is guilty of that mostly because by shooting on DV, Lynch can shoot much more footage than with film. I'll come out and say I despise DV on aesthetic levels, but I'll admit Lynch makes it work to his advantage at times. But it also allowed him to film a lot of scenes that weren't necessary. That lack of editorial discretion makes this film too long and lessens the impact of what works. At its central focus, Inland Empire has some very strong elements working in its favor, but by failing to harness his ambitions, Lynch ends up with a film that just doesn't quite hit its mark.

The TV Set

The TV Set (Jake Kasdan, 2007) [6]

Jake Kasdan worked on Freaks & Geeks and Undeclared, two of my favorite shows in the history of television that didn't make it a full season on the air. Kasdan seems to have taken the worst elements of his experiences in television and placed them in the character of Mike Klein, a writer trying to get his pilot greenlighted by the network and still keep some artistic credibility. The film is basically a series of all the inane notes and dumbing-down network television does in the name of better ratings. There is a lot of satire that's dead on here, beginning with Sigourney Weaver's performance as the network president. Weaver's performance becomes the centerpiece of the film, due to her at times hilarious and at time horrifying performance. She's meant to be a representation of the industry itself, with it's penchant for "broad" shows that aren't too original, too original scares them a little. Kasdan does a good job of showing the inane nature of the industry as well as the struggle between artistic credibility and popular appeal. Mike has everything go wrong that possibly could: he has to change his vision of the show, he has the wrong actor in the lead, and once the show does get picked up, the marketing of it is taken in a completely different direction. Duchovny plays it all with a perma-wince across his face, half flummoxed and outraged at the network dissection of his show. It does play as solid satire and is funny to anyone who has the same view of network television as Kasdan, which I do.

My only real issue with the film is that everyone knows television has little to no artistic credibility. This is the way things work in television and it is such an easy target to skewer. A difference has to be made here between network t.v. and cable; even Mike says his show isn't going to be The Sopranos, which states there is a distinction being made. Granted, I'm no fan of network t.v. and I enjoyed the film throughout but the film does come across as a hopeless exercise. Kasdan knows the networks are never going to change so he can take all the shots at them he wants. In its best moments (the network testing at the mall, the Slut Wars scene at end), the film does its best when it attacks the stupidity of the general public for allowing the networks to get away with what they put on the air. The bad thing is there are too few of those moments to make it a fantastic film instead of just a good one.

The War

The War (Ken Burns & Lynne Novick, 2007) [9]

This will undoubtedly be on my Top Ten list of 2007 even though it will never see a commercial theatrical release. I don't really see the need to be so dogmatic to say that films that weren't shown in theatres somehow don't count. Burns has created a thoughtful, grateful, and refreshingly apolitical film that triggers strong emotions yet isn't pandering or cheap. The subtle difference that Burns uses for his approach, telling personal stories of the war, make it much stronger than retelling history as every WW II documentary on the History Channel. Each man or woman's story has enough of their own personal experience to show human elements that haven't yet been seen yet all the while still threading them into the greater narrative of the war itself. It creates some truly powerful moments as you can see how much each story means to the people telling them. This film really isn't about the broad scope of history of war; it's about people and the sacrifices they made to fight and win. People tend to forget that the war was fought by actual people, not broad terms like Allies vs. Nazis/good vs. evil, etc. By giving a more human experience of the war, Burns has made his film much more powerful as well as interesting.

Ken Burns' style gets parodied and ridiculed to an extent and I could see how most film snobs wouldn't have much use for it. His overemphasis on geography, always reminding everyone of the four cities he focuses on can become a little tiresome after a while but that's about the only real formal flaw I have with the film. Obviously, the film relies heavily on archival footage and it has some remarkable yet graphic footage. The one element that Burns reiterates that is truly effective is that while World War II may have been a just and necessary war, that doesn't mean it was any different from any war. Lives, both soldiers and civilians, were lost. Much of Europe and Japan were virtually wiped off the face of the earth. The men who fought dealt with all the killing, maiming, and shock that war entails. World War II may have been a war that had to be fought, but that by no means makes it a "good" war. War is hell, and many of the veterans speaking in the film say as much. And while the film has no overt political agenda, all the graphic footage can make one feel that war in whatever the case is never necessary. As Spielberg said, all war films are anti-war films.

Monster In a Box

Monster In a Box (Nick Broomfield, 1992) [7]

I liked Swimming to Cambodia so much, I knew I would eventually catch up with this film at some time. Spalding Gray still is entertaining in his monologue here but he jumps around trying to tell too much. While Swimming to Cambodia really focused on Gray's experience while in Cambodia, here he goes from his book (the aforementioned monster), moving to L.A. to do a stage production, expeditions to Nicaragua and Russia, and acting in Our Town. While Gray does keep a thread intertwining between all these tangents some how, it comes across as shambling and less focused than his prior film. It doesn't help that Nick Broomfield attempts to do too much with light and sound effects. Gray is interesting enough as a speaker with all the emotion he himself puts into his monologue that Broomfield's excess of sound and lighting effects overwhelms the power of Gray's words at times. Still, Spalding Gray is an interesting enough storyteller that I can't help but be entertained. He exists on a fine line between real emotional punch and breezy conversation that keeps him from being too frivolous or too self-involved.

Away From Her

Away From Her (Sarah Polley, 2007) [7]

For a first time director, Polley has made a solid but by no means spectacular film, as some reviewers are wont to believe. Julie Christie's performance is solid but not nearly as great as the reviews state. From those reviews, you would think that the film centers around Christie's character but the film is more from the husband's viewpoint, played by Gordon Pinset. The film, after all is called Away From Her. I really don't want to knock Christie's performance because it is good but I found Pinset just as credible and dealing with a lot more complicated emotional issues. It's the nature of the story that Grant, being the husband, has to deal with the brutal realities more directly than his wife. Polley, who also adapted the screenplay from an Alice Munro short story, does a good job of handling the complexities and turmoil that the two main characters' relationship and love go through. What is impressive of her direction, especially for a first-timer, is that she a pretty good hold on a continuity of style throughout. She floods her scenes, especially in the assisted living home, with light, which is always being mentioned by the home's director. Even the elements that I think don't work so well, such as the ellipses in the narrative and too much camera movement in key scenes, aren't too much of a detriment because they are consistent in the style Polley's established. The acting performances also carry the film above any flaws in the style. Christie and Pinset's insightful and emotionally deep performances are key and Polley does a good job of keeping the film's focus on them.

Monthly Listening Post - September 2007

Ken Burns' new documentary on PBS, The War, has been taking up all my viewing time for the past week. While not as good as either The Civil War or Baseball, it still has some pretty powerful moments. A full review when the entire series is done. For now, here's what I'm listening to now:

Animal Collective - Strawberry Jam
Heavy Trash - Going Way Out with Heavy Trash
Devendra Banhart - Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon
Iron & Wine - The Shepherd's Dog
Patton Oswalt - Werewolves & Lollipops

The Wind That Shakes the Barley

The Wind That Shakes the Barley (Ken Loach, 2007) [7]

What Loach does here is very skillful, in that he starts one way (Irish vs. British) and ends up in a completely unexpected place (Irish vs. Irish). The material he's working with is very incendiary, especially if approaching the events with sympathy for the Irish as I was. The film is an unsparing look at all sides of the Irish fight for independence at Great Britain, which Loach turns a critical eye all forces fighting in the struggle. The British occupying force is rightfully vilified, but Loach doesn't let the IRA off that easy either. There are scenes involving them that are just as cold-blooded and villainous as anything the Black & Tans did. That involves the Irish killing their own, as one thing the film does well is shift the identities of those fighting around as events in the film progress. Loach keeps the focus on this by focusing mainly on two characters, a set of brothers, Teddy, more in love with power than ideals, and Damien, the young doctor turned idealist. It's this amorphous identities of the characters that is interesting, especially when Teddy gets into power. The other interesting twist is how Damien moves from nationalist to socialist by the end. There's no denying that the poor where the ones behind the nationalist uprising, but the church and other factors suppressed the socialist tendencies of some especially after Ireland gained some autonomy. This clash of ideals the idealism of Teddy and the compromised power of Teddy is a real interest facet but only comes up in the end. It helps redeem the film a bit, as the second half gets bogged down in two much dissection of ideology and talking. It almost takes the film out of the intense fighting sequences that Loach has established in the first half. Still, he handles the material more than admirably and has made a film that doesn't try to sugarcoat history.

Buy the Ticket, Take the Ride

Buy the Ticket, Take the Ride (Tom Thurman, 2006) [5]

The first thing I want to say about this documentary on the life of Hunter S. Thompson is that it should be longer. Sure, this will appeal to any fan of Thompson's writings but I also think die-hards will also be disappointed mostly because it doesn't have that much depth. Thurman has constructed the film around interviews with people like Bill Murray, Johnny Depp, and Sean Penn, who became close with the good doctor, and cuts in with some film clips and interviews. What I really wanted to see more of and don't get nearly enough of are interviews with Thompson himself. One of the key points of the film is the Raoul Duke/Dr. Gonzo character Thompson created of himself for the public was not really the real Thompson. That burden of being a pop culture icon is covered, as Thompson has become a cult figure for generations now. All in all, Thurman does the best with what he's given to work with. It's worth seeing this just to see the unintentionally hilarious Gary Busey interview. The problem with this film is that it's appealing to those that are familiar with Thompson and his work and basically, no one else.

It's Been a Long Time Since Some Random Thoughts...

but I got to get some things out there:

1) There's been a lot of panning of the new Rilo Kiley album, or at least mixed reviews. Let me go on the record and say for the most part, it's a fairly good album. Older fans may take umbrage that the album is too "mainstream" or whatever other half-assed argument they have, but I find the wide range of sounds there appealing. Granted, not everything is that strong but I'm really digging on "Close Call" and "15." (I know I'm using hippie verbs but some things are too hard to break)

2) The ads on television for the Dane Cook/Jessica Alba cinematic abortion (thanks Stereogum!) that is Good Luck Chuck seem to be nonstop for weeks now. If people getting bit in the balls by penguins and hitting shit a lot is your idea of comedy, this will be right up your alley. Personal declaration: I used to think Dane Cook was funny when I first saw his Comedy Central Presents special but have sense come to my senses. His popularity is one of the reasons why I boycott MySpace.

3) It's getting pretty close to the end of the year and I know everybody is looking forward to my year in review in music (humor me here, I know I'm the only one who visits this site). I said a while ago I thought Feist would take the title but don't count out The National and as a potential sleeper, Okkervil River. But 2007 will still see releases by Band of Horses, Devendra Banhart, and Drive-By Truckers. I've been really trying to keep up with all releases so a comprehensive review will be coming in December.

4) And finally, the Useless Film Snob will be relocating to Portland, Oregon after the new year, which will hopefully mean a more relevant film review site as well as concert reviews and coverage of other stuff that doesn't happen in a cultural backwater like Binghamton, New York. While I'll always have fondness for my hometown and its gradual growth as an arts community, the Snob is looking forward to attending the Portland International Film Festival in February.

I'm Reed Fish

I'm Reed Fish (Zackary Adler, 2007) [4]

The only element I really liked about this film is the setting; not the way the town of Mud Meadows is portrayed but the physical setting seems like a nice place to live. Nothing in this film is that strong: the characters are thin and dull, the story is lackluster, and the ways screenwriter Reed Fish and Adler try to spice it up are superficial. Besides putting your name in title , the whole film-within-a-film aspect feels pandering to sophisticated film goers and critics. Average film goers may see it as clever but it really doesn't make much sense in the world of the film. It allows Fish to have a somewhat interesting twist in regards to his two main female characters but I'm still not buying its usefulness. With the exception of Schuyler Fisk's performance at times, nobody else does anything impressive in this film. Some reviews I've read state it's hard to believe Jay Baruchel's character is in the middle of these two women because of his physical appearance. I feel that's a shallow observation; I happen to like Baruchel as an actor, especially in Undeclared. What I do have a problem with the character he plays is that the character of Reed Fish is constantly sabotaging himself with both relationships. This allows him to perpetually wade in a pool of self-pity which the film tries to mask as melancholy which I'm not buying. Alexis Bledel doesn't do anything to break away from the rigid box that Gilmore Girls has placed on her acting. Overall, these characters and the film itself are completely dull with the exception of brief instances. There's nothing that Fish the writer and Adler can do from dragging the film out of the hole it dug for itself by trying too hard to be cute and clever.

Protocols of Zion

Protocols of Zion (Marc Levin, 2005) [6]

Levin has made here a earnest, inquisitive documentary that has real interesting moments but ultimately trips on itself trying to do too many things at once. It was a little different than I expected; the Netflix review specifically mentions how supposedly all Jews were told to stay home from the World Trade Center on September 11th, which is what I was expecting this to mainly be about. Instead, Levin uses that as a jumping-off point to examine anti-semitism in general, especially focusing on a book called The Protocols of the Elders of Zion supposedly telling how the Jews were to go about ruling the world. The book is a proven forgery from Czarist Russia but Levin wants to find out why it is still popular in so many circles. Besides Muslim fundamentalists, Levin also interviews white supremacists, born-again Christians, and other assorted nutjobs to find a root cause for anti-semitism. What Levin finds out is not any hatred towards particular Jews; "the Jews" act more as a figurehead for disgruntled people to place their blame. That's how Levin gets such statements out of people that Rupert Murdoch must be Jewish because he's a media mogul and Rudolph "Jew"-liani isn't what he appears to be. What's fascinating about all this is how blind the delusion of these people are, how anti-semitism has become so ingrained in certain cultures that it trumps all sort of rational thought. There are moments and comments that border on comedy they're so ludicrous. The film brings out the realization that anti-semitism is still something that is large and so deep in certain elements of society that it may never be eradicated. What the film really lacks are suggestions on how to do that. Levin presents the wide array of material but never really gives any answers. He still seems as confused as when he started his project. That the film goes in so many directions really makes it lose a central focus which Levin could have addressed. He just puts too much in and the whole Passion of the Christ subplot didn't feel necessary. Still, Levin gets credit for going out there and somehow, staying calm and rational when confronting so many lunatics.

Brazil

Brazil (Terry Gilliam, 1985) [8]

I really don't know how much I actually like this; I may be too easily swayed by the positive accolades over time and there's no denying how fully immersed into its own world the film is. For me, this is by far Gilliam's most accomplished film, at least in terms of what you think of a Terry Gilliam film to be. All that being said, I tend not to care that much about the film when it was over. It's certainly an achievement on a visual level and I found the story to be compelling but the complete lack of a concrete opinion about it bothers me. That doesn't mean I didn't like it, it's well made, but I just have the feeling that if I were to watch this a couple of years down the road, either I will completely get it or lower the grade.

Gilliam treads into Orwellian territory with a story about an omnipresent totalitarian society enslaved to technology and corporate brainwashing. What is impressive was how much this film is on the mark in terms of technology and computers controlling peoples' lives. Against all the jackbooted thugs and endless bureaucracy, a lone man is fighting to regain his imagination. What I find most weak about the film is the story of Lowery. The entire situation with him and his dreams and his relationship feel weak compared to the menacing presence of the world that he occupies. This appears to be one of the themes of the film, as Sam is trying to break free of the deadening control of his life and fulfill his dreams. The less personal, man against the system story here is better in my opinion. In regards to the much publicized trouble of ending the film, Gilliam's original ending is really the only logical one. The system in which Sam lives in is just way too big and powerful for one person to have any success in changing it. It may be downbeat but it really does fit the world of the film.

As with all Gilliam films, there are memorable images and effects. Much of my admiration for the film centers on how complete the world Gilliam created for the film works, especially the scenes dealing with the giant, never-ending bureaucracy of the monolithic state. And there was sly little Battleship Potemkin homage towards the end.

The Intruder

The Intruder (Claire Denis, 2005) [7]

On the narrative level, this film is extremely difficult. There really is no linear narrative in this film. On a purely visual level, in terms of images, it is riveting and typical Denis. Her filmmaking has always been about the sensory experience of images, of letting the camera linger over bodies and landscapes. This film really has to be appreciated on a visual level with an almost complete disregard for plot. That's not to say there isn't one, but it is there. What story there is basically comes down to is a man living in rural France needs a heart transplant which soon his body begins to reject. The man then goes on a travelogue to Tahiti to make amends with his long lost son. Denis does not spend that much time on explaining anything and instead captures the happenings. It's this lack of explanation that makes the film difficult to follow in narrative terms. On a more abstract level, it is a much more rewarding experience. As with all her films, Denis captures numerous captivating images and they themselves speak of the important elements of this film: the man's loneliness, his need to make amends with his son, and the themes of intrusion. There are numerous intruders in the film, from the unexplained psychical intruders on the man's property to the man's other son and family to the heart itself. Who or what are the intruders are never really concrete. The distinction between dreams and actual existence are never really defined. It all creates a baffling experience. However, if the viewer can detach themselves from the constrictions of narrative and experience the film as a sensory experience and interact with it on the emotion of its images, it can be appreciated.

Closely Watched Trains

Closely Watched Trains (Jiri Menzel, 1966) [5]

For its time, this film could have been considered on the cutting edge of addressing sexuality in a real and frank manner on celluloid. Unfortunately, it hasn't aged particularly well and is definitely a product of a different place and era. The plot centers around Milos, an apprentice train dispatcher who becomes wrapped up into losing his virginity to his conductor girlfriend. Initially, he has some, um, difficulties, and compensates by trying to commit suicide. The rest of the film concentrates on Milos getting some practice before finally consummating his relationship with Masa. That description sounds fairly crude but Menzel handles the material with enough wry humor and respect for his characters that it comes off as harmless and sweet. This isn't some raunchy numbskullery like American Pie. The film has a poignancy to it that isn't often seen in American cinema dealing with this subject matter. But the operating world of the film is weirdly disjointed, as the film is so engrossed in Milos and his quest that everyone is completely oblivious to the fact this is occurring during World War II and the Nazi occupation of Czechoslovakia. The war and its effects pop up sporadically, especially the end, but it feels like the reality of the world at war is being repressed. Sex is probably one of the only topics that could supersede war in a person's mind. It paints a quaint story for this film, but something, that sadly doesn't translate particularly well over the years.

The Lives of Others

The Lives of Others (Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, 2007) [7]

After viewing this, it's no real surprise that this film has been so critically acclaimed and received Best Foreign Language film at the Oscars. It's the same type of middlebrow, safe picture like Mystic River that can appeal to critics and a general American audience. I don't mean to say these are bad films, they're not. A film like this is so stringent in its narrative and what it wants to say that it really leaves any room for anything else. On one level, that's appealing in that everything is being spelled out for the viewer but it's also a bit disappointing that it leaves no room real risk-taking. What saves this film here is that von Donnersmarck has superbly crafted this film in terms of tone and images that take away from the aggressive thematic and plot elements. He overdoes the entire art triumphing over strict ideology too much, as the characters of Wiesler and Dreymen are too easily encased in their roles. As the film progresses towards the end, it appears to me that the film is riding too much on getting to its pre-determined ending, which ends up being its bittersweet resolution. All this sounds like I didn't like the film, but there's something about it that makes it palatable. von Donnersmarck's direction is solid and the look he has created for the film, especially the contrast of the cold, darker world or Wiesler the stodgy ideologue with the more vibrant, light look of Dreyman the artist. It brings out the argument being made by the film that totalitarian socialism, by restricting and monitoring art, hurts the very same ideals that it supposedly stands for.

Battle In Heaven

Battle In Heaven (Carlos Reygadas, 2006) [6]

Reygadas's film is about many things (the urban landscape of Mexico City, the immense social stratification of that nation, sexual attraction, religion) and really not about anything. This is an extremely rigorous film, a film that needs strict attention to the visuals. Reygadas has stripped any normal sense of plot away from the film, as the film meanders from scene to scene, taking its time. What makes it difficult is trying to decipher just want to take away from this. You can read into the religious angle, the social commentary (the whole subplot of Carlos and his wife kidnapping the baby), and of course, the sex. The film itself never really gives a strong toehold into any of them, only to mention them and then move on to something else. It has been a couple of days since I've seen this and I'm still not sure exactly what to make of it. By stripping his film of so many filmic elements viewers take for granted, it's hard to say I like it in terms of plot and character. But I'm also a person very interested in the visual aspects of cinema, and here with languid, meditative shots, it is something I can really appreciate. Overall, I'm still puzzled by it but know underneath my mental haze, there is something worth being said underneath.

Monthly Listening Post - August 2007

A fairly busy month for new releases, a mix of new artists and old favorites. I don't know how many of these will be on my final top ten but this is a strong group of contenders.

1) Josh Ritter - The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter
2) Rilo Kiley - Under the Blacklight
3) Jason Isbell - Sirens of the Ditch
4) Okkervil River - The Stage Names
5) Augie March - Moo, You Bloody Choir

Also, after a lousy summer for concerts, the fall concert season is definitely heating up, especially in Upstate New York. Syracuse has Bob Dylan/Elvis Costello and Phil Lesh in October while the Magic City Music Dump here in the Binghamton area has Gov't Mule, and Umphrey's McGee. The biggest surprise is that Bright Eyes will be playing Magic City in November which is completely unbelievable that an "indie" artist is playing Binghamton. Plus I'm heading out to Portland, Oregon in November to see The Hold Steady (more on that later.) It's definitely going to be an eventful fall.

Spectres of the Spectrum

Spectres of the Spectrum (Craig Baldwin, 2000) [7]

I'm a big fan of Baldwin's work, especially Tribulation 99 and this film treads much of the same ground as that film. Baldwin is a collage or found footage filmmaker, which means he uses images from other sources to create his films. This film as well as Tribulation 99 use mostly old science fiction footage to create what appear on the surface to be paranoid psuedo-documentaries but do have a critique of American political and business policies. Spectres focuses on a father and daughter who are out to show that a corporate/government monopoly on communications and radar technology to control the population and destroy the natural ionosphere of the earth. It's incredibly complicated exaggeration Baldwin has come up with, the father and daughter having to travel back in time to save the world. This plus while taking tangents into Tesla's alternating current, the creation and subsequent monopoly of radio and television, and political commentary. The first 30 to 45 are difficult to grasp but once the father and daughter get down to actually carrying out their task the film becomes much more streamlined and easy to follow. As with any Baldwin film, there are an overload of images, from everything to 50's science television programs to more modern films like Gremlins. On the surface, this all seems rambling and incoherent but the underlying message of Baldwin's films are its most important points. Baldwin is urging the public to take back their media and ways of getting information. The media conglomerates have for far too long has a stranglehold on determining what information that people can hear. Baldwin makes the point that media like radio and television initially belonged in the public arena and that corporate control is bad for the earth as a whole. It may be hard to grasp from the density of images assembled, but it's there to be found.

The U.S. vs. John Lennon

The U.S. vs. John Lennon (David Leaf & John Scheinfeld, 2006) [6]

An interesting at times documentary on the Nixon administration's failed attempts to silence and deport John Lennon for his political views and associations. What's interesting more than Lennon the person are the issues being raised of celebrity, using celebrity for voicing dissent, and the role of the U.S. government in monitoring those individuals. Leaf and Scheinfeld interview numerous people, some like Gore Vidal and Noam Chomsky, who have no tangible relation to Lennon. It doesn't work formally because it creates tangents but what they say would be a much more interesting documentary than this one. My main issues here is that this is well covered ground and the filmmakers are bringing nothing that enlightening to Lennon himself. The only real interesting facet that gets revealed but not covered enough is that Lennon's message of peace was extremely naive and that the radicals he associated himself with became more and more confrontational and even violent as the 70s wore on. The film shows that Lennon's power of celebrity was what people like Jerry Rubin and Abbie Hoffman were really after, not so much the ideas. The actual details of Lennon's immigration case are relatively boring but it is interesting to see how paranoid the Nixon administration was in their belief that one entertainer could have that much sway on public opinion. The sad reality, over the years, has become that no famous person (0r group of celebrities) has any real power to influence the political establishment or stop a war. It sure hasn't been successful with Iraq. What this film shows is that John Lennon was really the last entertainer that has had a broad impact on the culture at large but even he never had the influence to make change.

Strange Brew

Strange Brew (Rick Moranis & Dave Thomas, 1983) [5]

It's hard reviewing this film so many years later because it's basic structure, the adventures of two dim-witted men, has been aped by Wayne's World, Tommy Boy, and almost every Will Ferrel movie that it's hard to remember that this was pretty much the first one. Moranis and Thomas the McKenzie brothers made famous on SCTV and now so more for their beer commercials. They're basically two dim-witted brothers concerned with drinking beer and calling one another hoser and telling everyone to take off. Their Canadian white bread routine is funny for a while (about the length of a skit) but the repetition of eh's and hoser only can get so much laughs. Still, there were moments throughout that made me laugh out loud, especially the scene with the two brothers fighting in straight jackets. That's more that can be said for most comedies today. The plot, loosely based on Hamlet, has no real importance to the film; it could have been anything as long as it propels Bob and Doug along and gets them to act stupid. The film also suffers like most comedies of its era from cheesy 80's syndrome, highlighted by not very effective effects and the corny opening credits song. Some credit has to go to Moranis and Thomas for breaking down the fourth wall, clearly addressing the audience and letting them know that they know they're making a movie, something Wayne's World would copy and make seem like new years later. Also, for being two dim bulbs, the McKenzie brothers are completely likable, something that the smugness of Ferrel's characters lack. Strange Brew isn't great and it shows its age but it certainly has more laughs than Rush Hour 3, which I guess passes for comedy nowadays.

Exterminating Angels

Exterminating Angels (Jean-Claude Brisseau, 2007) [4]

It's hard to get people to pay attention to the message of your film when all people are going to remember is hot girls masturbating. Brisseau has always been a director that's going to push the envelope in terms of sexuality, but here he goes so far overboard that he ends up drowning his film. This treads some of the same ground as Secret Things, his previous film (which I happened to like). That film, however, dealt more with the issue of power in relation to sexuality and had campy elements that made it much more enjoyable to watch than this one. Exterminating Angels and especially the character of Francois take themselves way too seriously. Francois especially, since he acts as a vessel for these women to bring out their desires and taboos, which is just a little too convenient for what Francois is looking for. Francois doesn't say or make anything profound out of what he's doing; he comes across as being underhandedly manipulative and eventually, his transgressions (real or imagined) result in tragedy at the end. The only thing that really comes out of the film, mostly because it's repeated, is that Francois doesn't realize what he's getting into. The meeting with Julie at the end reinforces this idea even more. Besides that, Brisseau doesn't offer up anything more. The angels themselves appear haphazardly and don't take on any significance until the end. Brisseau aims for provocation and there's no doubt the sexually explicit scenes here will both intrigue and offend people. The real problem with this film is that there's a lack of anything worthwhile about the sex that's shown beyond titillation.

Live Free or Die

Live Free or Die (Gregg Kavet & Andy Robin, 2007) [3]

The quirky indie comedy is starting to go the way of the studio romantic comedy, so full of standard archetypes and characters that it's hard to make it good. This film, from two former Seinfeld writers, should be a lot funnier but falls back into the pitfalls of quirky just for the hell of it characters and a plot that doesn't really go anywhere. The plot issue isn't that big but the characters here are so unlikable and treated with such indignation by the writers that the end result is completely homeless. Kavet and Robin are so concerned with their convoluted plot and character quirks that they forgot to make a comedy with laughs in it. Granted, there are a few but they mostly involve the hilarious comedian Judah Friedlander, who sadly, isn't in this film enough. The two main characters are treated with such disrespect by the writer/directors by having so little intellect that it's insulting to the viewer as well. Aaron Stanford plays a two-bit loser that tries too hard to be a hardened criminal. Besides being stupid, his character is so over the top in his wannabe macho nature that he's completely unlikable and lacks any real personality. The other, played by Paul Schneider, is even worse. He plays the dim bulb and is there to be laughed at and nothing else. There's something wrong with playing a character's lack of intelligence purely for laughs and not giving him any humanity. I may be a cynic at heart but I like my films to have some human qualities in them and these two walking cartoon characters are so blatantly offensive to my sensibilities that I wanted to strangle the ones responsible for them. It's too bad because the story itself does have some funny moments but the down ending is completely off base for the rest of the film. This film's lack of consistency makes it a muddled mess that doesn't work at all.

Zodiac

Zodiac (David Fincher, 2007) [8]

I've never been that big a fan of Fincher's work, finding the queasy opulence of films like Seven and Fight Club not to my taste. Here, he tones it down and plays his hand relatively straightforwardly about the notorious serial killer who terrorized the Bay Area in the late 60s/early 70s and vanished, never to be solved. This film on one hand contains the standard procedural drama, laying out the facts of the case which have been well covered over the years. What makes this film work and how Fincher differentiates it from banality is the thread of male obsession that runs through. Obsession and compulsion can be used to describe the killer himself, as the Zodiac claims in the film. But the obsession of knowing the truth is what really drives this film. The three other main characters, the boy scout cartoonist, the hardened, boozy reporter, and the earnest detective at some point become all consumed with the details of the case and are unable to let it go. The performances of the three, Jake Gyllenhaal, Mark Ruffalo, and Robert Downey Jr., perfectly embody the determination and obsession that come with wanting to know what happen. They perfectly stand in for the audience as everybody wants to know who the Zodiac was and why he did what he did. But Fincher also succeeds in not really answering anything. The film wants to tag Arthur Leigh Allen as the Zodiac but all the psychical evidence in the case cannot be linked to him. The film doesn't have any more answers by the end than when it started. The strength of the film is that it can still be effective even though the entire course of it was a search for answers and it turned up nothing.

Fincher as the director here is a near perfect match. Someone who is notoriously detail obsessive as he fits the overall theme of the film perfectly. No detail in matching the period of the early 70s is spared all the way down to the studio cards at the beginning of the film. I've found Fincher's style to be a little overbearing in the past, but with this film, it fits consistently with the theme of the film.