Thursday, May 01, 2008

The Swindle

The Swindle (Claude Chabrol, 1997) [7]
The plot is fairly straight-forward in terms of the standard grifter/crime picture but Chabrol handles his basic material with a nuanced style that make of the film than it really is. Isabelle Huppert and Michel Serrault play small-time grifters that con businessmen and take just enough for them to think nothings missing. As the two set up for another con, Betty (Huppert) has plans of her own. She has methodically ingratiated herself into a seemingly innocuous money-runner who's transporting 5 million Swiss francs to the Caribbean. Suffice to say, the two get way in over their head, or at least it appears. What works simply beyond the standard caper premise is that Chabrol frames the film with enough twists and questions so that the viewer is never sure who is swindling who. It seems like Maurice, the runner, was planning to scam some of the money to begin with, with Betty and Victor (Serrault) ready to scam him. The problem is nothing is ever certain and Chabrol is smart enough in handling the key scenes never to give too much away. The final scenes in the Caribbean with the somehow humanistic crime boss let the viewer know as much as the characters on the screen know. If this had been a Hollywood picture, everything would have been explained in such nauseating detail that it would be boring and unoriginal. That, and the crime boss (played here by Jean-Francois Balmer) would have been a sadistic, over the top caricature instead a an actual human. Only at the end do we find out what really happened to the money, and it comes as almost an inconsequential element. Chabrol works with his characters in such a way that the relationship between Betty and Victor is much more interesting and honest than any elements of the crime or the money. Once again, in a mainstream American picture, any form of character development would have been sacrificed with unnecessary plot twists. I've always felt that Chabrol has a deft touch with handling complex human relationships and The Swindle shows that there can always be a little more to grifters than the crimes they commit.



Special note: This marks my last post from/in Binghamton. I am finally flying out and re-settling in Portland, Oregon. This site will be on a short hiatus while I get situated. I'm hoping that aside from more relevant reviews in regard to time, there will also be opportunities to view some experimental work, which I have not been able to see on a regular basis for a while. No matter what I've said of it, Binghamton has some charm, but the opportunity to experience more in terms of the arts is too strong a pull.

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Kissing On the Mouth

Kissing On the Mouth (Joe Swanberg, 2005) [6]
I was recommended this by Netflix, and the review was intriguing, so I thought I would give it a try. Aside from the truly hideous title and the cheap look that comes with being shot on DV, there are some moments and aspects of this film that really are done quite well. The plot is a melding of every kind of twenty-something form of angst you could get and form into a coherent form. All the bases are covered: sex, commitment, jealously, finding of purpose; they all converge into the characters of Patrick and Ellen as they grapple with life after college. Of course it's all done in the incredibly narcissistic way that most people of this generation handle their problems. Being of this generation, however, I find not this not really completely self-indulgent but to have some truth at times. These characters are obnoxious and the scenes aren't greatly revolutionary or complex but they have some truth to them and that's all that's being asked of them. Patrick and Ellen have been thrust into the real world and all its dealings, especially sexuality, and they are still completely unprepared for all the emotional repercussions that dealing in reality bring. Ellen thinks she's having meaningless sex with an ex, but it's not that simple. Patrick clearly has feelings for Ellen but can't express any of them beyond having shit-pantsed tantrums. For anyone else, these characters could have insufferable but they lay themselves out there to be exposed so much, it's hard to not take notice. Most of this has to do with the frank depictions of nudity and sexuality. Far from being titillating, it's mostly boring and not arousing in the least. Its uncomfortable nature is perhaps its strongest element. It forces the viewer to tackle not in terms of exciting sensuality but in terms of all the neurotic, needy feelings behind it.

Friday, April 25, 2008

Lake of Fire

Lake of Fire (Tony Kaye, 2007) [5]
Give Kaye credit for making an in-depth documentary that attempts to be even-handed in its coverage to both sides of the abortion argument. There is a red flag blowing in the breeze however. For a film that is about such a delicate issue of abortion and have hardly any female interviewees is wrong and short-sighted of Kaye. How can you talk about the issues that women have to face in this debate and have ideas for both sides interpreted through men? The film has such a male perspective of the issue that it makes a flawed film. The one idea that kept running through my head is that this film is so authoritative in the male realm of things, that it treats women as victims and not rational people, like many of the talking heads interviewed. Many of the women interviewed by Kaye are just that, victims. There's the woman who worked at the Florida clinic where two doctors were murdered by zealots. There's the woman who was injured by Eric Rudolph's bombing of a clinic, and there are the two women that let Kaye film the procedure. Kaye also handles the events in such a theatrical, emotionally charged way that it never lets a thoughtful perspective of these women get through. I feel that the woman at the end who allowed herself to be filmed in such a private, emotional moment is completely exploited for the sole purpose of creating a moment. Kaye also does this by showing graphic footage of fetuses, for no reason other than Kaye wants to provoke a reaction. The only time the film really finds a steady groove is when the discussion moves more the sociological spectrum, talking about abortion and in regards to class, birth control, and gender politics. When abortion itself is brought up, a lot of time is spent on talking to right-wing zealots who use their religious beliefs as their sole defense of "life." (Authors note: I know I said that I would not bring politics up but my ideas on the Christian right and religion in general are fairly negative, and I think their pro-life argument is lot of bull.) The times when the film is actually sober and rational are when it's best, and those are not the times when any of the religious zealots are on screen. And, by creating a film that operates more on emotion than rational thought, the film is inherently pro-life. Yes, the film gives time to the pro-choice argument but visceral nature of the pro-life people and their argument overruns the more measured, nuanced explanations of the pro-choice argument. It's not that Kaye is doing this on purpose; I don't think he realized that by framing the film the way he does, he gives more leverage to one side. Some or most may disagree, but I don't feel this film ends up being as neutral as its director thinks it is.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

WR: Mysteries of the Organism

WR: Mysteries of the Organism (Dusan Makavejev, 1971) [7]
Coming out at the peak of the sexual revolution, it's not much of a surprise that a lot of Mysteries of the Organism feels like a product of ideals of a certain time. Its combination of sex and politics was something was handled with a more revolutionary zeal back in the early 70s than it is today. Makavejev starts his film as a pretty much straightforward biography of Wilhelm Reich, a colleague of Freud who espoused radical views on sexuality and his idea of the orgone. The key points of Reich's philosophy was that suppression of sexual freedom is harmful to mankind and that sex and the orgasm is something to be enjoyed and not ashamed of. Makavejev uses Reich's ideas as a jumping off point to a variety of subjects, from a member of The Fugs roaming New York in a makeshift military get-up, to Warhol denizen Jackie Curtis, to the editor of Screw magazine getting his member encased in plaster. These documentary elements reach into Reich's ideas of freedom and how they could be expressed in the (then) modern world when even all of Reich's work has been banned. The film doesn't really find it's thematic groove until the final sequence, a narrative about two Yugoslavian women, one interested in politics, one in sex. As her friend fools around, Milena (Milena Dravic) complains of how the totalitarian nature of the communist state represses sexual freedom, which in limits true freedom, something they were promised. These scenes are intercut with scenes from a Soviet propaganda film starring Stalin, an example of this forced obedience. Milena woos a Russian skater, Vladimir Illyich, only to have him be unable to deal with his sexual awakening, with tragic consequences. This entire section is really the strongest because it resonates thematically. Makavejev uses Reich's theories as a way to critique the Soviet system, which crushed almost all personal liberties in the name of blind allegiance to the state. Makavejev is not anti-communist but clearly anti-totalitarian. The purpose of the film, rather than an examination of Reich and his views, is to use those ideas to the totalitarian like repression most nations have about sexuality, whether they be communist or democratic. Mysteries of the Organism is a much more relevant political document than a sexual one. It handles its sexual material in a way neither pornographic or vulgar but in a way that actually creates a dialogue other than about sex.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

The Essential Collection: Pierrot Le Fou


Pierrot Le Fou (Jean Luc Godard, 1965) [10]
Existing in a middle ground between his earlier genre deconstructions and the more experimental, radical works like Weekend, Pierrot Le Fou is my favorite Godard film. That Criterion has given the film a deluxe treatment have made it even better after not having seen it for many years. The one element I hear in critiques of this film is that it feels inconsequential and that may be perhaps I like it so much. This is the most pulp of all Godard films, starting with a standard noir storyline. Ferdinand (Jean-Paul Belmondo) is a dissatisfied writer who upon meeting an old acquittance with a sketch history (Anna Karina), embark on a road trip after an apparent murder. What is essentially a standard noir story is transformed into something bordering on pulp but becomes something. Frankly, the dialogue is ambiguous and obtuse, but the scenes and images that Godard crafts are so much more interesting that it hardly matters. There are moments in the film that foreshadow the more radical, non-narrative style that would appear in later Godard films, but here, they still have some attachment to a story, which I feel makes them work well. The musical interludes and the man on the dock are good examples. They on the surface appear somewhat random but the really dig down to an idea of complete devastation as Ferdinand's journey with Marianne has not come to what he thought. A lot has been made of Pierrot Le Fou being an extension of Godard's feelings at the time, that he had just divorced Karina and he had lost all interest in the base story that inspired the film. What I feel is more important is the idea of the destruction of the narrative form that the film contains. At least if not that, it reflects on a director searching in a new direction. But unlike the more strident tones of his more political work, Pierrot Le Fou succeeds because it allows itself to be somewhat frivolous. The vibrant look of the film, the most striking aspect of the film to me, gives the film the feel of the comic books that keep popping up. Unlike someone like Tarantino, who uses pulp and popular forms more for an all over style, Godard uses just enough to keep the heart of the film from being a bludgeon. Some critics may like the more genre-specific early films, some may like the more political ones, but for me, somewhere in the middle is Pierrot Le Fou. For me, this film is hard to beat when talking about my favorite twenty so film of all time.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

The Amateurs

The Amateurs (Michael Traeger, 2005) [3]
With a cast like this and an interesting premise (some local nobodys team together to make a porno film), it's not that big of a surprise that it came out not much better than a pile of garbage. Jeff Bridges plays Andy Sargentee, recently divorced and worried that he doesn't compare to his son's rich step dad, attempts to make a score for himself. What else but porn? He wrangles all the local losers and weirdos (played with varying degrees of passabililty by Joe Pantoliano, Ted Danson, and Tim Blake Nelson among others) to chip in and make a nice porno film in Butterface Fields. My number one gripe are the names in this thing. Does Traeger think naming a town Butterface Fields and a character Some Idiot are going to be funny? It begins to show the shallow depths of the humor in this film. Besides making the porno jokes (black guys are supposed to be well endowed, a girl works in a bed store so she must be into sex) and not actually having the balls to show any sex or nudity, there's not much that could make it worse. The film also crams out a stale "gay guy pretending not to be gay by acting overly macho" subplot and hampers Andy with a self-reflective narration, having to constantly make the audience aware that they're watching a film; I don't know where this comes from lately, but it's a stunt that always backfires. The only time Traeger is really on track with his humor is the bickering over the scripting and execution of the film, the only time that shows how actually clueless yet entertaining these guys can be. The rest of the film is just time to throw out lame jokes and have Andy wallow in self-pity. The film also has a mild ripple of chauvinism in it. It's not mean or that intentional, I think, but it is a bit alarming how Traeger spends a lot of time with male characters. The only time women appear they are more or less treated as objects. Not objects in the pornographic way but more there just to propel the story. Lauren Graham and Judy Greer are tremendously funny actresses but they rarely register in their screen time. The story is about men; I can understand that, but it certainly weakens what was already a fairly mediocre script. The real way this could have been better is if Traeger when all out and made this a raunchfest. It would have a lot more satirical bite than the toothless, throwaway nature of this film.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Panic In the Streets

Panic In the Streets (Elia Kazan, 1950) [4]
Am I missing something here? Having been led to believe it was an underrated noir, I found it to be nothing of the genre and not very exciting at all. The greatest attribute I can give to the film is that is was filmed on location in New Orleans, but even though, the film rarely uses its location to its advantage to make the film more exciting or unique. Richard Widmark plays a milquetoast medical examiner that's brought into to do an autopsy on the murdered man. The victim is found to be carrying a form of the plague which leads to a massive manhunt for the murderers, an odd couple pairing of Zero Mostel and Jack Palance. The threat of a widespread epidemic also leads to political and bureaucratic in-fighting about who's in charge, what to tell the press and public, etc. Kazan handles these elements the best, which is a bit sad because they really should be secondary to the primary action of apprehending the two men who pose the most danger to the city. For a film that's called Panic In the Streets, it's amazing that no one really shows that much of that particular emotion. A lot of the talk between the Widmark character, the mayor, and the police is spent bickering about what to do without anyone any showing much of any emotion. Widmark's character is clearly meant to be the most immediate voice but there's a scene, in the dead middle of this supposed manhunt and possible epidemic, that he goes home and has a measured conversation with his wife. The logic of this moment is completely lost on me. If he's that concerned with the public welfare, this conversation could have clearly waited, couldn't it? The only characters that portray the correct emotional level throughout are the Mostel/Palace pairing, clearly confused why they've become such targets for what seemed like an inconsequential murder. Palance, physically imposing and intimidating, makes the perfect noir villain but is not utilized enough or correctly to his attributes. Kazan is a fine director, but he misses all the elements that make good film noir. I'm not even sure that this should be considered noir. Given its pedigree, Panic In the Streets is a perplexing disappointment.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

Into the Wild

Into the Wild (Sean Penn, 2007) [6]
John Krakauer's book on the life and death of Chris McCandless is one of the best journalistic books I've ever read. It is thoroughly researched yet goes well beyond listing facts, with Krakauer trying his best to figure out who McCandless really was. The trouble may be is that it's quite impossible to know what his motives for his treks were or what happened to him those final months in Alaska. Penn's film asks the same questions the book does but it excerpts the self-reflexive thread that made Krakauer's work so interesting. This film feels too much like the viewer is to sit there and experience Alex/McCanless's experiences rather than reflect on them. Obviously film is a visual medium so the experience is meant to be looked at. It's also true that film can't not be a reflective medium but Penn pares the film down to a lyrical celebration of McCandless and his experiences. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that but I felt like the film just lacked something. McCandless to me is such an intriguing figure. I have admiration for what's behind what he does and extremely sorry for his arrogance that ultimately led to his death. The first half of the film finds Chris as played by Emile Hirsch lacking these qualities often. Only the sequences in Alaska and some later moments in the film really strongly form what I think that character should have been. These moments done right are about as good as they can be. The problem that keeps this film from being a great film is that they aren't consistent enough. Penn's directorial choices, such as the breakup of the film into chapters and a lot of the narration, with the exception of Chris, don't work enough. Still, it's worth saying that Penn has crafted a film that clearly has it's focus in the right place. Hirsch has his moments when he feels really close to the person I think Chris McCandless was. I admit it's hard for this film to measure up to what I felt it should have been compared to the book, but it's not a worthwhile effort from Penn.

Sunday, April 06, 2008

Moolaade


Moolaade (Ousamane Sembene, 2004) [8]
Sembene's final film was also the one film of his that really gained any sort of significance in upon its release in America. That it took three years to find it on DVD caused me to lose some of the initial interest I had in it when I first heard about it. The main reason the film got much more attention than all of Sembene's other films was the subject matter: the controversy over female genital manipulation that is practiced in some African nations. The subject arouses interest because in regards to Western thought, this is thought of pretty much a black and white issue, with all cultures condemning the barbaric principle of "purification." Sembene's achievement is that he doesn't reduce the argument to something this simple but instead takes into account the traditions and being respectful to these cultures while still condemning the practice. The argument is framed obviously along gender lines as Colle attempts to keep a group of girls from being cut while also attempting to convince not just the men but the women of the village. Sembene clearly has an acute understanding of what he's talking about because he never panders to the West and make the picture about outrage. There's a deliberate showing of the patriarchal societies that these cultures build up as another subplot involves a son of one of the village elders attempting to disobey his father and marry Colle's daughter. I feel that the film uses female circumcision as its main theme but it also lends itself to a greater discussion about the conflict between the past and modernization in Africa. Female circumcision is just another example of the traditions under threat (at least to the male elders) that is being thrust upon them as Africa modernizes socially and economically. The point with the radios, that the men refuse to let the women have radios because they're bringing messages that are causing Colle and the others to question the traditions is a brilliant way of showing this. The character of Mercenaire is another example of this, a man convinced by capitalism and nothing else. His disregard for traditions and obedience eventually end up badly for him. Sembene clearly is no fan of these ideas and practices but he has the great sense to handle them smartly and understand the arguments rather than just blanket assessments.

Moolaade also looks fantastic, capturing the colorful dress and landscapes of the African landscape. Sembene's captures it all unobtrusively and creates some fantastic shots and scenes, especially the beginning and end. There's a reason that he's considered the father of African cinema.

Thursday, April 03, 2008

Michael Clayton

Michael Clayton (Tony Gilroy, 2007) [8]
A highly enjoyable and entertaining film to watch, I was surprised myself how good Michael Clayton is. The only detriment about it is that is plays a little too close to the legal thriller playbook but when a film of that genre is well done, it's almost always an entertaining one. Gilroy, who also wrote the script, fills the film with enough twists, intrigue, and just enough action to draw you in. George Clooney plays the title character, a lawyer whose job it is to swoop in and expedite problems. He gets drawn into having to keep a mentally unstable colleague (a flashy but not overboard Tom Wilkinson) from blowing a case involving an agricultural conglomerate's pesticide that has been contaminating ground water and killing people. As Clayton goes deeper, he uncovers more and more about the company, that they knew about and covered up the problems with contamination and also that they're not above eliminating any problematic elements in the case such as himself. It all falls neatly into the paranoid thrillers of the 70s, films that explored the shadowy deeds of corporations and the government, usually brought on by rogue individuals. The film is foremost about the character of Clayton, and even though he uncovers all this information, the film is never really wholly about what he discovers. The contamination/lawsuit is a subplot, just a way for the film to explore the character of Clayton. That plot is used as a way to bring out an ethical dilemma in him, to decide to do what's best for him or to do what's best ethically for not just him, but everyone around him. The film really centers around Clayton and what decision he's going to make. You know it's a sign of a good film when at the end, he does the right thing (in terms of how these films usually end up) and you as the viewer actually want him to. Gilroy and Clooney don't just leave it there, as they still leave open feelings of ambiguity in Clayton as if he did the right thing all along, not just in this situation, but in his career as a whole. The film takes one event and is able to create a nuanced character study that happens to be unabashedly entertaining. It may not break any rules but Michael Clayton is a film like they used to make, when studios actually acknowledged their audience had an intellect.

Monday, March 31, 2008

Atonement

Atonement (Joe Wright, 2007) [5]
Perhaps it has to do with my personal taste in films that this had an unfair disadvantage to start. I'm no fan of stuffy, upper crusty British films (with a very few exceptions) and there was no way I was going to fawn over this to begin with. Still, I ask what's so great about this film that got critics falling all over themselves to praise it? It looks good and of course it has all the elegant period details but the one thing that most cite about it, the passionate love story, I found almost none of. There is nothing remarkably enthralling about the romantic relationship between Robbie (James MacAvoy) and Cecilia (Keira Knightley), other than the now notable fountain scene, which the sexual tension sparks across the screen. Outside of that, the rest if pretty dull and standard. That may be my prejudices coming out, but then again, these are personal reviews. It was going to take a great deal to win me over with this film, but Wright's direction almost did. The first main segment of the film, before the act that turns around the film, is well crafted in regards to shots and the staccato typewriter soundtrack that really ratchets up the tension. While from a craft perspective it works, from a story one it does not. Not to reveal any spoilers to those who haven't seen it, but the mix-up/event (the letter) that propels the story into its second arc borders on ridiculous and clumsy by the characters of the film. I haven't read the novel to see how its handled but it feels like a cheap convenience. I understand the emotion background of the letter but the execution of the situation doesn't fly right by me. Things only become more drab as the film progresses through the years. Once again, there's nothing in any of the performances to sell me on believing anything these characters think or feel. Wright also looses his footing by throwing in a extremely long tracking shot that shouts "look at me!" but has no relevance to the story. Anybody portraying Briony outside of Saorise Ronan doesn't work. The ending, while appearing clever, isn't. It all results in a film that is another pristine yet sterile class picture about period Britain. If you happened to like Atonement, you may be right; but, this is a type of film I find all too easy to dislike.

Thursday, March 27, 2008

Monthly Listening Post - March 2008

It's been a big month for some highly anticipated new releases. I haven't gotten around to getting everything yet, but here's the best of what I have:

The Black Crowes - Warpaint (the first 3 songs are some of the best the Crowes have ever written)
Howlin' Rain - Magnificent Fiend (their debut flew under the radar but this is bringing them more attention and rightly so)
Kathleen Edwards - Asking For Flowers
The Felice Brothers - S/T
She & Him - Volume One

Some sad news also to learn that Richard Widmark has passed away. Widmark is one of my favorite actors of all time, and it was kind of frustrating that he was never really taken that seriously because his best work was done in film noir. Noir or not, his performances were always fantastic. As I posted in my Night and the City review, I think his performance in that is one of the greatest I've ever seen in any film. It's too bad he was never really appreciated.

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

The Assasination of Jesse James

The Assasination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (Andrew Dominik, 2007) [6]
Dominik's film is visually stunning and has some very nice moments that are highly reminiscent of McCabe & Mrs. Miller or a film by Terrence Malick. Too bad the rest of the film never lives up to the lofty visual and conceptual standards Dominik yearns to achieve. This clearly wants to be a majestic, epic film and the visuals help it but it's the story structure and the performances that let it down. I wasn't impressed at all by any performances, especially Pitt who plays Jesses James with an almost complete lack of anything. A lot has been made of Casey Affleck's performance as Robert Ford but I'm not buying it. The film plays up his immaturity and his idolization of the legend of Jesse James but to me he comes across as a whiny little twerp who did what he did because he got picked on too much. I don't want it to seem like I'm stealing from Sicinski but he calls Ford "Mark David Chapman with a six-gun" and that was the same comparison I was thinking of while watching the film. Asides from the misguided performances, the story structure really falls flat because of Dominik's ambitions. He tries to tell it both ways: as an epic, historical epic with Ken Burns-like narration but also throws in more introspective, meditative moments a la Malick. By playing everything so close to history, the film becomes clunky, and at times, too plain long. If Dominik would have loosened up the film a little bit, get inside these character's heads a little more, it would have been a more interesting film. The tells a lot without really getting inside any of it. The visual execution of the film only makes it more like a museum piece to be looked at and not really meant to get inside of. If we're going with art analogies, this could have benefited from being a little more abstract. Plus, the epilogue is entirely too long and really unnecessary. All being said, this isn't a terrible film and Dominik has enough craft to create a film that looks great but has some glaring deficiencies.

Monday, March 24, 2008

The Graduate


The Graduate (Mike Nichols, 1967) [9]

Even after all these years of watching films, I had never gotten beyond the first half-hour of The Graduate. After reading Mark Harris's book about the Best Picture Nominated films of 1967, my interest was piqued. This is not a groundbreaking film in terms of aesthetics; Bonnie & Clyde was the film of that year that really ushered in a new brand of filmmaking in Hollywood. That doesn't mean that this film is pedestrian; in fact, I think Nichols direction here is actually pretty good with some nice unique shots and elements. The subject matter of the film is more important in the history of things, in that it seems to have landed perfectly into the generational gap of the late 60s. This was and still is a picture for young people, that speaks to the alienation and bewilderment of entering the "real world." It's acutely appealing to me in, seeing how I come from banal, comfortable, middle-class suburbia, in the way Nichols is skewering the privileged culture of Southern California, and by its outgrowth, the mindless suburbs. Benjamin is bored, and perhaps the affair with Mrs. Robinson will bring him some excitement. More than anything, The Graduate hit the public at just the right time, but in fact, the persona of Ben and what he does aren't that different still today. Young people today are still dealing with the issue of what or whom will speak for them, to voice the worries and grievances that they have. It just so happens a film can do that fairly articulately.


As for more about the film itself, what works best is the deadpan delivery of the entire film. The humor of the film is subtle and dry yet it works because it works with the characters well. Dustin Hoffman as Ben sells the role because he lets the more absurd moments overwhelm and confuse him. Most of the talk of this film centers on the affair with Mrs. Robinson but that's really only half the film. Personally, I enjoyed the second half of the film much more, with Ben's dogged pursuit of the Robinson's daughter Elaine. Now that Ben has found some goal to attain, it makes you root for him to get it. There's something between Ben and Elaine (played by Katherine Ross) that's appealing to me even though I can't quite figure out exactly what. Of course the ending has been appropriated quite well into popular culture, and all this time its greatest attribute is overlooked. Yes, Benjamin gets the girl but Nichols does something remarkable for the time and leaves the ending open. We're left with Ben and Elaine on the bus, their elation slowly turning to 'Now what?' terror and that's it. No tidy resolutions, no real happy endings. These two still don't know where their lives will be headed and that's perfectly fine, not having to know. This, and the rest of the film, handled so well by Nichols, a clever screenplay by Buck Henry and the performances quite rightly make The Graduate a landmark film for ushering a new era.


Side note: another wide known element of the film that goes above and beyond the film is the music of Simon & Garfunkel. The most ironic element of the whole thing is that 'Mrs. Robinson' wasn't even finished when the film was released and only two lines of it (besides the instrumental parts) were used in the film. I happen to think Simon & Garfunkel are the one of the most underrated groups in rock & roll history. I know they sold millions of records and have some great songs but they never seem to have much respect or influence nowadays. They seem to be largely forgotten by my generation and that's a shame.

Saturday, March 22, 2008

When We Were Kings


It's NCAA tournament time so films will take a back seat to basketball for the next two weeks. Here's one I got in before all the games started.


When We Were Kings (Leon Gast, 1996) [8]

Gast's documentary on the Ali-Foreman "Rumble in the Jungle" took twenty years to find an official release and in that time frame, it became an even more important document of a certain event and time. As the years and Parkinsons erased the Ali everybody knew in the 60s and 70s, this film captures the man at his absolute zenith, the greatest achievement of his career. Most boxing people gave him no chance against Foreman, who has previously demolished Joe Frazier (cue Howard Cosell's "down goes Frazier!" impersonations). Gast's film focuses heavily on Ali before the fight, showing the man as his usual charismatic self in interviews but in more private footage revealing a man much more somber about the reality of the situation. It's these moments with the private Ali that take the film above simply documenting a sporting event. The fight itself takes up very little of the film actually, as greater sociological and political ideas are brought up. George Plimpton and Norman Mailer give well-informed interviews on not just the fight but the odd circumstances of the fight itself, which promoted by Don King, took place in Zaire because the dictator of that nation, Mobutu Seko, put up the cash for the fight to raise the profile of his nation. That the fight took place in a stadium where underneath, thousands of dissidents of the Mobutu regime were being held, tortured, and killed provides a strange dichotomy. By the fight being in Africa, it brings up the ideas of black pride and nationalism that were sweeping across the world by the mid 70s. The most interesting facet of the documentary is the way Ali is treated by the Africans as a conquering hero. It's hard to remember now with Ali being so beloved but his association with the Nation of Islam and his refusal to serve in Vietnam had made him an enemy of much of mainstream America during the time frame. Gast's film goes beyond capturing a fight and showing revealing Ali to be one of the most important figures of the 20th century in any field, mostly because of his role model status not just to Black America but to those all over the world. That he was able to defeat Foreman makes him a much more celebrated figure and the reason this film doesn't center on George Foreman.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Useless Film Snob Book Report - Pictures at a Revolution

It's been quite a while since I posted a book review. That hasn't meant I haven't read anything since then; it's just since that I mostly write about film and music, it would be most useful to post on books with similar subjects.

Pictures at a Revolution: Five Movies and the Birth of the New Hollywood (Mark Harris)
Harris's book is definitely an enjoyable read, well written and well researched. Harris goes in-depth into all aspects of the five films nominated for Best Picture in 1967: Bonnie & Clyde, Doctor Doolittle, The Graduate, Guess Who's Coming to Dinner, and In the Heat of the Night. The book goes into vigorous details with numerous interviews of the pre-production, production, and results of each film. A lot of the book seems to gravitate towards Bonnie & Clyde and The Graduate, as examples of the new style of filmmaking that would be called the New Hollywood, hold Harris's thesis. He wants to say that these films, by being so different, refreshing, and above all successful, helped usher in a new era in filmmaking away from the colossal roadshow pictures, evidenced here by Doctor Doolittle. The problem is that the book never re-enforces Harris's thesis that strongly. Yes, 1967 may have been the start of the New Hollywood but there's never anything concrete in book that really create a difference between the pictures. All the films are run through the same way and Harris never really goes into much theoretical analysis outside of the how Bonnie & Clyde and The Graduate were handling the issues of violence and sexuality. I'm not saying that he's wrong about his subtitle but the way the book is structured as more of a history than an analysis. That doesn't mean there's anything wrong with the book; it's still an entertaining read, full of great details of how each film was made. The debacle of Doctor Doolittle could be its own book on the the last creaking throes of the old studio system. The only time this generational shift is really addressed in regards to these films is the Academy Award ceremony itself, as the two middlebrow films, In the Heat of the Night and Guess Who's Coming to Dinner fare just as well as the "newer" films. It's the only time that shows that Hollywood wasn't quite ready for the New Hollywood.

Monday, March 17, 2008

The Grateful Dead Movie


The Grateful Dead Movie (Leon Gast/Jerry Garcia, 1977) [7]
If you're a fan of the Grateful Dead, as I am, you will no doubt enjoy the movie. If you don't, well I can't help you, you'll probably find it boring. Not quite a concert film and not quite a documentary, the film was the brainchild of Jerry Garcia, who was basically the creative director of the film. Leon Gast headed up the camera crew that captured the concert footage, taken during the Dead's last shows before their mid-70s hiatus. Musically in the Dead world, I think that anything from 1970 to 1974 was the peak period of the band. The performances here are adventurous and energetic and would make an entertaining film by itself. The film itself wants to capture the Grateful Dead experience from all angles; not just the music but the fans. This is the make or break moment for the film. The crowd shots and interviews either encompass everything someone would like about the Dead or allow anyone else to say it's just a group of goofy, spaced out hippies. Essentially it's in the eye of the beholder but personally speaking, the film manages to capture the excitement and the communal atmosphere that make the Grateful Dead unique among rock & roll bands. It's a film truly for Deadheads and no doubt it plays great to that audience.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

In the Name of the Father

In the Name of the Father (Jim Sheridan, 1993) [6]
No offense to Gerry Conlon and the horrible injustice done to him but I find this story a little boring. What actually happened to him, being framed for an IRA bombing of an British pub in the 1970s and being wrongfully imprisoned for 15 years is a travesty. The filmic account of that is just a story that's been told so many times and in the same strident way that it holds nothing for me. Maybe if I had seen this film upon its initial release I would feel different but now, it's hard to find much film wise to get excited about. Sure, it kept my attention throughout and the performances of Daniel Day-Lewis and Pete Postlethwaite anchor the film and keep it interesting. The problem for me is that film is crafted too much to be about its important message than what's actually in the film. The problem I believe is Jim Sheridan, who I just have no real endearment to as a director. His middlebrow style, heavy on emotionally charged moments, is just something that I've never found intriguing. His utter of lack of any style here hurts the film immensely, essentially wasting large portions of Day-Lewis's performance because the film just clunks along with no real ups of downs. The first half-hour to forty-five minutes are much stronger, mostly because the film propels to Gerry's imprisonment and the film has some freedom. Once everything gets bogged down in the prison scenes, Sheridan almost allows the film to come to a screaming halt. If it wasn't for Day-Lewis and Postlethwaite's endearing interaction with one another, this would be a boring mess. Liberties were taken with Conlon's story and I have no problem with that. I just would have liked to see Sheridan do something a little more adventurous with the film but the film's determination to show how Gerry Conlon was wronged doesn't do justice to his story.

Saturday, March 08, 2008

My Kid Could Paint That

My Kid Could Paint That (Amir Bar-Lev, 2007) [6]
This film holds particular interest for me since its subject, a 4-year-old abstract painter named Marla Olmstead, is from here in Binghamton. I have never met the Olmsteads or have seen Marla' work but story that Bar-Lev tells in his documentary is well know to me. Perhaps that's why I don't see this as engrossing as some reviews have stated is because I know the story fairly well to begin with. That and Bar-Lev never really settles on one topic instead sending himself off into various topics and never really coming back to a concrete point. The film at its center is trying to capture the "story" of Marla rather than a portrait of her and her family. Granted this is tricky since she is only four and seems to have no real interest in all the hoopla surrounding her. What is most interesting for me is the issues of modern art that a situation like Marla bring up. That a 4-year-old can create supposed masterworks of modern art bring up the idea that it's nothing more than a scam and could be done by just about anybody. NY Times art critic Michael Kauffman is present to continually hammer this point home. Another fascinating aspect of it is this idea that modern art sells not by the quality of its work but the story surrounding it. Marla's paintings are selling for so much and attracting so much attention because of who Marla is, not so much how good they actually are. I only have a base interest in modern art so I don't really know if they're good or bad but that really doesn't matter because it's the story behind them driving it. When the 60 minutes piece basically debunks Marla as the creator of her works, the demand drops with it. This is where Bar-Lev should have stuck but instead he goes into the more personal interest vein of the story. Mark Olmstead as well as Anthony Brunelli, Marla's de facto agent, appear to relish the attention the paintings are getting without any regard for what it's doing to Marla and her family. It has the whiff of exploitation around it that never appears good in any situation. Bar-Lev then almost ruins the film by having to interject himself into it by questioning not only the authenticity of Marla's work but also his own moral role in the story. He recognizes he's using the Olmsteads for his own personal gain and begins to have second thoughts about the whole thing. If that's the case, he should have just packed up his camera and headed home. Instead, he muddies his film down with his own introspection which isn't needed. He's just as guilty of exploiting the story of Marla as the other adults around her. By the end, the question of did Marla really create these paintings is a mute point, not just because Bar-Lev avoids addressing the issue but because he loses focus of the strongest elements of his film that have nothing to do with Marla or himself.

Wednesday, March 05, 2008

Syndromes and a Century

Syndromes and a Century (Apichatpong Weerasethakul, 2007) [9]
There really isn't much use in trying to find a coherent story line in this film, there isn't one. What makes the film is the evocative images and meditative qualities of it. This is my first exposure to Weerasethakul but from what I've heard, convention is not one of the traits to look for in his film. He's created a film, quite frankly, that I have no real idea what it's really about (if anything) but is still something that is appealing on its visuals and endearing moments. The film is based on the courtship of Weersasethukal's parents and split into two parts. The first is in a rural hospital setting with an emphasis on the tropical setting while the second transplants essentially the same story in a modern, sterile urban environment. This split of practically the same story, down to the opening of each section, represents a sort of personality split as the first half is more from the woman's perspective and the second more of the man's. But nothing is really that simple here and I even have the feeling that none of that really matters. What works completely to the film's advantage is the moments it captures: the deadpan Q&A sections that open each half, the monk who wants to be a DJ, and most important, the simple beauty of the interaction of the characters. The film manages to reveal all the complexities and awkwardness of the beginning of a relationship but never handles it mawkishly or cynically. There isn't anything to really dig deep into here, but just taken on the surface, and being able to experience the film in moments and images make it all worthwhile. I like this film a lot but I can't really tell you anything about it. And that may be its greatest attribute.

Sunday, March 02, 2008

The Lady Eve

The Lady Eve (Preston Sturges, 1941) [7]
Not quite a screwball comedy and not quite a romantic comedy, The Lady Eve is certainly an enjoyable film. But to me, it feels slight compared to Sturges's Sullivan's Travels, a film I feel is much superior. That film is also part screwball comedy, but it has a insight into humanity that gives it depth. There really isn't much here other than the story and characters given. While that shouldn't automatically depreciate its value, it doesn't have enough depth, or laughs for that matter, to really make me think it's the masterpiece it's touted to be. Henry Fonda plays a wealthy brewery heir that is far from a man of the world. Barbara Stanwyck is a con artist who along with her father see Fonda's character as ripe pickings. Things aren't so easy however as the two fall into a tricky romantic situation which sees them together, apart, together again under false circumstances, apart, and back together again. Things all become complicated when the Stanwyck character actually falls for Charles instead of just taking advantage of him. Of course Charles is too dim to realize what he gets himself into and then back into. Fonda plays him with the correct amount of obliviousness and charm that make him passable. The pratfalls get to be much over time though. The film really centers around the Stanwyck character, who has to jump in from calculating grifter to a dumbstruck lover. Her presence has a cloaked sexiness to it, in that she's not overtly using her sexuality on Charles as well as the audience, but that certain qualities of her performance bring this out. The scene when she first takes him back to her cabin and realizes she's going to fall for him is a perfect example. It's not a role meant to be a sex kitten type of role but there's definitely something there that is enticing and yet refined. It helps because the story just seems so marginal to me. There's not enough laughs outside of some supporting performances that really make it a great comedy for me. Still, it's better than a great majority of what comedies are released today.

Saturday, March 01, 2008

Margot at the Wedding

Margot at the Wedding (Noah Baumbach, 2007) [6]
Here's a film with completely unlikable characters, and yet somehow, manages to pull some interesting things out of it when a lot of people will see only how unpalatable it is. This comes across as a more "serious" film for Baumbach, not just that he scales down the humor (which may be good or bad depending on the situation) but that formally, this is an improvement on the other work of his that I've seen. The film pulls no punches in the rancor and depression these characters feel and Baumbach reflects this is a handheld style that emphasizes the various shades of grey and wind of the landscapes, as well as the darkness of the interior scenes. On a simply formal level, it fits the mood of the film perfectly. The story, however, carries all the problems the film has with it. Margot (Nicole Kidman) and her son come to her sister, Pauline's (Jennifer Jason Leigh) wedding. Only that the two haven't talked in years and that Margot is using the wedding as an way to carry on a extra-marital affair. Once there, Margot manages to alienate everybody with her withering observations, mostly that Pauline shouldn't be marrying the borderline manic-depressive Malcolm (Jack Black). Much of this dysfunctional family drama played out in The Squid & the Whale, Baumbach's last film. He certainly has the ability to craft scenes that tell of the ways family members can cripple one another with words. The problem here is that unlike that film, the story here comes out too thin. Other than the key point that Margot seems to appropriate a lot of her family in her stories, there isn't that much to really tell how the sisters got to the point they're at. Margot is emotionally devastating to her son and seems completely oblivious that her words cause as much harm as good. While none of this characterization is bad, it seems to be a lot of style over substance. Black's character in particular never reaches out beyond a muted variation on the manic energy he usually displays. I guess what I'm trying to say is that not a lot of what these characters express feels that earned to me. But for whatever reason, it doesn't make me not like the film. Baumbach has enough control in what he's doing to a least make it a little interesting.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Anatomy of Hell

Anatomy of Hell (Catherine Breillat, 2004) [5]
Breillat is more a provocateur than a storyteller, and if judging this film solely on its ability to shock and provoke people with its images, it succeeds beyond a doubt. The problem stems from what exactly Breillat is attempting to do simply beyond create a visceral reaction. This isn't some feminist screed against men, even though one of its main themes is men are repulsed by female anatomy, specifically the genital area. On the surface, it shares some of the anti-feminist, pro-pornography ideas stated by people like Camille Paglia. But the film is not really pornography, nor is it pro or anti-feminist, or homophobic as some reviews have stated. Well, then what is this exactly? I really don't know and that's part of my conundrum with its grade. A woman pays a gay man to watch her for a series of nights in what she calls her most "unwatchable" acts. It a series of events and images that really don't have or need to be listed other than as a means to obviously create an uncomfortable feeling for the viewers. One of the points Breillat keeps hammering away at are that men hate women, and more specifically women's bodies. Using a gay man, who supposedly would hate women more than the common man, would emphasize this feeling of repulsion even more. Breillat's main problem may be she may be a little off base on her ideas. If she's trying to create a series of images that would support her argument, she has succeeded in this film. After watching some of the surreal scenes and images, it would create a feeling of discomfort towards the female form. I, however, don't think they are nearly as disturbing or disgusting as the general perception of the them should be. For instance, I don't happen to hate the female form that much, especially the area she mostly concentrates on. Really, the film's images aren't that disturbing; in fact, there the film's strongest element. It's the cloudy ideas that lie beneath that bring Anatomy of Hell down.

Interview

Interview (Steve Buscemi, 2007) [4]
This film simply isn't that good because it gets too bogged down in its own conceit. A remake of Dutch filmmaker Theo Van Gogh's film of the same name, which admittedly I haven't seen, it takes the surface vapidity of the celebrity interview and tries to make something meaningful and provoking out of it. The problem for me is that none of it really has any truth to it. The film and the actions of the two main characters, the less than enthused reporter played by Buscemi and the tabloid fixture actress played by Sienna Miller, are all just means to execute its conceit. The film sets up these characters with their pre-conceived notions about each other, they don't take the other seriously, the interview is a waste of time, etc., and then allows a series of events to happen to let each one dig into the realm of the personal. It's a way for each to have their true character revealed in all the snarky, detestable means possible. It frankly becomes boring after a while; not simply because it's all talk, it's more than that. None of what comes out of Buscemi and Miller's characters' mouths sounds believable to me. It one after another of loaded lines and scenes that help break down the wall between the characters set up at the start and set up and set up the twist at the end. There is nothing really that revealing or profound coming out of their mouths. All it really shows is how unlikable these characters really are. Buscemi's reporter has integrity issues and comes across more as a lecherous loser than an reporter trying to break down an actress's false exterior. Miller is actually pitch perfect playing a spoiled actress who really isn't that good of one and uses her tabloid exploitation to gain fame more than credibility. Somehow, it doesn't seem like she was stretching herself too much in playing the role. Normally, I don't have a problem with characters who are unlikable but these characters are such solely to set up the film's story. They're petulant, spoiled and have no real connection to reality under the "truths" they supposedly spout. While Interview clearly wants to dig deeper into the process, it actually comes away with nothing more than what it sets out to deconstruct.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Random thoughts for the usesless few

Random thoughts more than often tend to come on Thursdays. This can be explained that our extended family usually heads out to dinner on Thursdays and more than not, I end up drunk. When I'm drunk, I like to ramble on, hence random thoughts:

-If there's any way No Country For Old Men or There Will Be Blood don't win Best Picture, mark my words, there will be blood. I know I said I would boycott the Oscars for eternity after Crash won, but I changed my mind after the two frontrunners are the two films I considered the best of the year. My top ten of 2007 will be coming in days too...

-Thank the invisible, non-existent diety that the writers' strike is over. I really need some new episodes of The Office. Here's hoping NBC has some backbone and actually airs the final episodes of Scrubs. I have a feeling they'll dump the last few in the middle of the summer like they did Freaks & Geeks. And you wonder why they're in last place?

-Bonnaroo's lineup isn't really that bad top to bottom but Metallica on there drives me mad. Well, for all you hippie/hipsters out there (which is me and maybe a dozen other people as far as I know), look no further than 4th of July Weekend in Rothbury, Michigan for the Rothbury Festival. Panic, Phil & Friends, MMW, Ray LaMontagne, The Black Keys, Gov't Mule, Secret Machines, Drive-By Truckers, Yonder Mountain, and Of Montreal make Bonnaroo irrelevant as far as I'm concerned. Hopefully, the Snob as well as his inner circle will make the trip from Oregon and have a truly great weekend.

-Some grade changes: Sicko is now a 7, Away From Her a 6. This will all make sense when my Top Ten is released. I'm waiting for Sicinski to release his first.

Juno

Juno (Jason Reitman, 2007) [7]
One of the suprise hits (critically and commercially) of the year isn't some relevatory piece some would like to believe. At its essence though, it's watchable, endearing, and not half bad. The cultural watchdogs would like to think a film about a 16 year old girl deciding to keep her pregnancy makes the film automatically conservative and while it basically is, Reitman and writer Diablo Cody never bring ideology or politics into it. The film works because it eschews this and stays inside the head of Juno, giving a portrait of a young girl going through all the conflicting emotions that a pregnancy would raise. Juno on a more personal track, with Reitman and Cody clearly showing compassion for their main character as well as understating the other characters, especially the young couple yearning for a baby played by Jennifer Garner and Jason Bateman. The Garner character especially, with her by-the-book examination of pregnancy wrapped up in an uptight, yuppie exterior, could have easily gone too far into broad or overblown characterization. They are meant to be played as the exact opposite of Juno and while I don't completely buy into it, it serves it's purpose in the story. It's Ellen Page as the title character as well as Michael Cera, playing his standard awkward character, as the boyfriend/father that work well. The two's chemistry and hitting the right notes of the tough to define nature of teenage romance as well as the problems a pregnancy can bring are the bright spots for me. I'm no fan of the show-offy, snarky dialogue Cody pumps out in the first half to two-thirds of the film, but when she actually tones it down and examines these two beyond smart-aleck remarks, it's a very compassionate view of these characters. To me, the first half of the film keeps at bay any real emotional validity in the film or its characters but when Juno lets her guard down, it makes her real for lack of a better word, and validates her character beyond a wise-cracking teenager. This last third of the film is layered with depressive overtones that create a emotional grounding in a the film world that I feel was sorely lacking for a lot of it up to that point. This more plaintive, somber nature of actually examining the realities of the situation save the film from being a bunch of overblown hype. By it's essence, the end is inherently conservatively but there's nothing wrong with that as long as it succeeds. Reitman, while doing nothing more than workmanlike direction for most, frees up a little more at the end and actually give the film some personality beyond its script. The performances hit their spots when they're supposed to. The songs of Kimya Dawson, plaintive and somber like the film, work much better in the film than they would on their own. It all makes a nice little film that is sincere and likable and good but not great.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Sweet Land

Sweet Land (Ali Selim, 2006) [8]
After receiving this and reading the synopsis on the sleeve, I wasn't that enthusiastic about viewing this. Period romance pictures just aren't something that I have that much interest in. Sweet Land proved me wrong as I was pleasantly surprised by numerous elements of the film. Selim's direction is suberbly poised for a first time director. This is a slow-paced, subdued film, mirroring the setting, post WWI Minnesota. A quiet farmer named Olaf (Tim Guinee) sends for a mail-order bride from Norway, Inge (Elizabeth Reaser). Olaf finds out that Inge is in fact German, which doesn't sit well with the pre-conceived prejudices of the community. Plus, Inge has no proof of citizenship, which means the couple cannot get married. The film centers on the blossoming relationship between the two as they come under scrutiny from the local community, especially the local minister. Selim shows great restraint in not stereotyping characters or overdoing his story, overloading it with too much dialogue or quirk. The film's strongest asset is its quietness, just letting Olaf and Inge awkwardly interact and find out about each other. Selim never rushes anything or tries to tell too much or reveal anything before its necessary. While the pace of the film could be considered slow, it's aided greatly by the look of the film, vibrant 35mm, which in my opinion, isn't seen enough. There are some exceptions when the film jumps in progression but it's not an issue because the center of the film is the love story. Guinee and Reaser give performances that could easily have been made mawkish but they are subtly nuanced and understated. That's what makes them work so well. Supporting roles by Alan Cumming, Ned Beatty, and John Heard are also well done. The roles aren't that big but they don't take anything away from the film

One word I keep going back to when describing this film is subtlety. This isn't a film that's going to win anybody over with over the top performances and lots of action. There's not even a big romantic resolution to Olaf and Inge's situation. They end up being accepted in the community but there's not a lot personally revealed. The film goes back and forth in time to show Olaf's and Inge's death and even then, I'm not completely sure if the realtionship is based on romance or a common reliance formed with each other during the main portion of the film. While this may be maddening to people that want more, it's this idea of restraint, in terms of film and story, that make Sweet Land a quiet surprise.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Rescue Dawn

Rescue Dawn (Werner Herzog, 2007) [5]
This film, much like its central character, Dieter Dengler, is filled with such a single-minded determinism that it creates a bit of a problem. Obviously, Herzog wants to tell the story of Dengler, a pilot shot down and imprisoned during the early days of the Vietnam War and his heroic, near miraculous escape from his captors. The problem for me is the film is so centered on Dieter's struggle and his own drive to escape that it becomes it not repetetive, at least ambivolous to the events around him. Everything in the film, from the jungle landscape to Dieter's Vietnemese captors, are used completely as obstacles for Dieter to overcome. They never have any real qualities or emotions other than they exist to be conquered. There's no mention of the greater aspects of the war, other than it seems like every Vietnemese is ready to kill someone at the drop of a hat. All of this may be functional in the grand scheme of things, it is essentially Dieter's story, but the lack of other elements doesn't make this a great film to me. Herzog has used the massive size of the jungle as crucial themes in his other films, bordering on being characters themselves. Here, he doesn't do any of that which is the biggest disappointment for me. Christian Bale certainly is interesting as Dieter, a man filled with so much optimism and ambivilence to his situation, it makes you wonder if he isn't a little mentally diminished in some ways. Bales at least sells the character by consistency. The real powerhouse performance of the film is Steve Zahn as Duane, the polar opposite of Dieter, a man who captivity has crushed all optimism and will to escape let alone survive. Dieter operates as the catalyst to stir one final push in Duane, and Zahn hits all the right points in playing the character. It would have been interesting to have a film from Duane's point of view with Dieter being one of the supporting characters. Unfortunately, that's not what's here.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

The King of Kong

The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters (Seth Gordon, 2007) [8]
I would have never expected an entertaining interesting film about adults playing Donkey Kong of all things. The King of Kong centers on the rivalry of two men vying for the world record of Donkey Kong. Billy Mitchell has had the high score since the mid 80s, and apparanetly hasn't changed his hair and fashion sense since then either. Bragging of his "accomplishments", he comes of as the most self-important asshole on the planet who has no idea he's practically nobody. Steve Wiebe is a mild-mannered father of two who breaks Billy's record in his garage. You couldn't ask for two more divergent yet cinematically rich personalities than these two, as the film charts their rivalry, as Steve and Billy go back and forth with the record. Gordon portrays Steve as the nice guy playing by all the rules sent down in front of him while Billy is engaged in mind games, manipulation with the head gamers, and a constant battle of oneupsmanship. It's clear that Gordon is intentionally structuring the film to make Steve the downtrodden family man and Billy the unlikable alpha male. Still, it makes highly entertaining cinema. The film also succeeds when it goes a little deeper, beyond the simple rivalry and into the world of competetive gaming. The film gives us profiles of the other people in the gaming universe, arrested man-children, frankly nerds. What the film uncovers is the insular world these people operate in, as all of them of highly skeptical of Steve, mostly because he is not really one of them. These people clearly hold Billy in awe but I feel that Billy's aggressive personality is exactly the type that would intimidate people like this. The film's strongest moments are the tracking of their slow acceptance of Steve as a worthy player and apologizing for the inconsiderate treatment they gave him. It also shows the true love that these people have for video games and the impact Donkey Kong and other games have had on Steve, Billy, and the others life. Gordon is never condescending about this, he treats everything her with consideration and gets a fascinating story as the result.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Grey Gardens

Grey Gardens (Albert & David Maysles, 1976) [7]
Along with Crumb, this is one of the more interesting character study documentaries I've ever seen. But while Robert Crumb was an endearing in his eccentricities, I can't help but find "Big" and "Little" Edie Bouvier Beale not that likable. Their tendencies to shout over and at one another and constantly making efforts to show off for the Maysles tended to be grating for me. The Edies, aunt and cousin to Jackie Kennedy Onassis, live in squalor with cats and racoons in their dilapidated mansion in the Hamptons on Long Island. The woman live in their own little world, shut off from their rich neighbors, and the Maysles meet them head on in that bizarre little world. It's a world that is built almost entirely on the past, what happened to the past, and decisions missed and should have been made. Big Edie makes a point of saying how acclaimed a singer she used to be and how much she had until her husband divorced her. Little Edie was pretty much a Renaissance woman until having to move back out to Long Island to care for her mother, who she constantly threatens with leaving and heading back to New York. The woman bicker and fight over pretty absurd reasons, like the words to a song, and there never seems to be that many quiet moments between the two. To me, a lot of it feels like showing off too much for the cameras, as both Edies drag the Maysles into the film. This isn't a central theme but it is odd seeing how the Maysles are closely associated with the Cinema Verite movement. This familiarity is ultimately beneficial, as it gets to the sad exterior beneath these women. These were two women, from socially prominent families with extroverted personalities that for whatever reason withdrew from a world associated with glamour and money to share a dirty, run down mansion with racoons (the most humorous moment in the film). This preoccupation and sadness with the way things happened is shared by Little Edie at the end, one of the true moments of the film. Her aside to the camera that she should be in New York City, enjoying herself and life instead of where she is caring for her mother, shows her true feelings for the situation. The familial bonds are just too much for her to actually get up in do it. Beneath all the bickering, there's a deeper admiration for each other the Edies. It makes the film more than just a bizarre character piece.

Saturday, February 09, 2008

They Live

They Live (John Carpenter, 1988) [3]
The ideas present in this film could certainly make an interesting film but it's just not this film. Carpenter takes a film with grand ideas and creates a B-movie that no amount of absurd humorous moments can redeem its overall poor execution. Former pro wrestler "Rowdy" Roddy Piper plays a man with no name and no past who happens to find a pair of sunglasses. The thing is, these sunglasses reveal to our man Piper that the world is run by an alien race that wants the human population to become subserviant and complacent. Along with no buddy Keith David, Piper teams up with other guerillas in order to stop the aliens in their dastardly plot...You know what? Nothing about this story had an interest for me whatsoever and that's hard to say with a movie starring the Rowdy one and Keith David. What intrigues me is what Carpenter clearly wants to address, the issue that corporate and more specifically here, Reagan's America, has created a culture pre-occupied with distraction and complacent behavior in regards to authority. The problem is that the film gets sidetracked trying to make a valid point by taking forever to get to the point of the story. The film's almost half over before Piper finds the glasses and I can't figure out who made the sunglasses or how they work. Logic is one thing to throw out here as how else to explain the borderline ridiculous fight scene (which was the reason I rented it, on account of the South Park parody). I'm not that much of a film snob that I don't hate camp or B movies but there is a line between being enjoyable to watch and boring. Any laughs or ironic commentary that can be found in They Live still don't make it that close to being enjoyable.

Wednesday, February 06, 2008

I'm Ambivalent about Bonnaroo

Unlike past years, I wasn't going to post anything about Bonnaroo because I wasn't planning on going. Then, a couple of days ago when it began popping up that the lineup was coming out, I thought about postponing my move to Portland (again) and heading back down to Manchester for a sixth year. But after seeing it, however, I think I'll head West. Obviously, the biggest issue is with Metallica as a headliner. I've been one of the few people that have really liked the ever diverse lineups that Bonnaroo gets, but Metallica is the wrong choice. I don't know how many metal meatheads would actually make the trip but the threat of them showing up just to see Metallica and not give two shits about any other band is not some place I want to be. I've been supportive of Superfly and their decisions to make Bonnaroo the most accomodating (musically speaking) festival in this country but there comes a point where crass commercialism overtakes the spirit of the event. Musically, it hasn't quite happened but now that the early-bird tickets are more than $200. That plus my travel expenses make it not worth it, especially with a move in front of me. All that said, the lineup isn't that bad but a lot of the acts I would want to see I've already seen in past years or at other events. It's the first time I can say I've been disappointed about Bonnaroo. It'll be weird not being there after the last five years.

Tuesday, February 05, 2008

There Will Be Blood

There Will Be Blood (Paul Thomas Anderson, 2007) [10]
I've been a huge fan of Anderson's previous films, and this film is pratically nothing like those but in a good way. His previous efforts have been known for their manic energy and penchant for flashy form but There Will Be Blood is his most patient, reserved film and it's better for that. Anderson's influences still hang heavy all over this film, Altman and Days of Heaven especially but it never seems like he's copying them stylistically for once. While I think Boogie Nights and Magnolia are great films, this is the film that finds Anderson working at the top of his craft. The film is helped immensely by two excellent elements: Daniel Day-Lewis's amazing performance and Jonny Greenwood's avant-garde influenced score. Day-Lewis simply carries the film as Daniel Plainview, a ruthless oil speculator/driller in turn of the century California. He plays Plainview as a slick salesman, a charmer, a devoted family man, and as a ruthless man ready to crush everyone and everthing in his path to achieve his goals. Where the greatness of the film really lies is that even though the film is essentially a character study of Plainview, it never becomes exactly clear what his goals are. Early in the film, it's clear Plainview is searching for personal wealth and even as he achieves that, it never makes him a satisfied man. There are moments when Daniel truly cares for his "son" but he throws away all familial ties in search of greater greed. Plainview comes to the town of Little Boston to drill but finds a nemesis in a young preacher, played by Paul Dano, who has his eye on the oil's riches to help his fledgling church. The two engage in a series of scheming and humilitating the other in order for both to get what they want. It's this idea of greed, captial as well as personal that runs through Plainview and the film. The film how the all-corrupting influence of the oil encases these men's souls. Both Daniel and Eli fall under the greedy grasp of capitalism, as the money triumphs over any other tenets these men have. But Day-Lewis gives Daniel an inner fire, a need to be able to crush anyone that seems a threat to him, that takes this beyond a film about greed and wealth. It's mesmerizing to see the transformation of the man as wealth has only made him grow more unstable and vicious. The ending sequence of the film is incredibly jarring, as Daniel becomes so consumed by his demons that he takes it out on everyone around him. It's a slow, simmering self-implosion that makes the film. Day-Lewis's performance sells it but Anderson also knows how to restrain himself enough not to give too much away and let Plainview's actions speak for themselves.

Greenwood's score is also interesting in that it has no concrete connection to the time frame of the film. This isn't a period score but it contains avant-garde elements as well as older classical pieces to create something that is incredibly refreshing to hear in a film. From the jarring opening creshendo to the Kubrick like ending, it works because it's so different and unexpected. The score makes the first 20 or so minutes a great film, as no dialogue is uttered. That sequence shows how Anderson has developed as a filmmaker in creating a great film like There Will Be Blood. Now there should be no doubt he being considered one of the best of his era.

Monday, February 04, 2008

The Ten

The Ten (David Wain, 2007) [5]
The Decalogue, it ain't. Less a morality play than an excuse to a different array of zany stories, the latest outing from Wain and writer Ken Marino is pretty much the same scattershot outing as their last film, Wet Hot American Summer. Sure, the film is has some really funny moments but for me, a comedy has to have more than just laughs. There has to be some craft and understanding of filmmaking present and Wain simply doesn't show any more development of creating a tightly structured film as his previous outing. The structure of this film, being able to tell ten different stories, is helpful in that it allows the film to go off on tangents purposely. The real glaring error is that if the viewer weren't told, it would be hard to figure out that these stories have anything to do with the Ten Commandments. With the exception of the 'thou shall not covet they neighbor's possesions' with Liev Schrieber and his neighbor seeing who can get the most Catscan machines and using prison bitches as "wives", most of the other stories fall a little flat. They have some good jokes but they don't real have a real distinct link thematically. Watching the opening film, it has one mention to the commandment its representing and nothing else. A better concentration of the ideas of the commandments would have made this better. I said after seeing Wet Hot American Summer that it would have worked better as a series of skits. The Ten is basically a film of skits but sadly, it isn't any better.