Chicago 10

Chicago 10 (Brett Morgan, 2008) [6]

Morgan's documentary takes footage of the chaos at the1968 Democratic Convention and the subsequent trial of those accused of inciting the riots and violence with the hopes of enlivening history. In theory it's all well and good and I can see Morgan using the trial of these radicals in hopes of inspiring today's younger generation. The problem for me is he creates a film that works in its standard mode but trivializes the material (the trial) that he updates. I see this as more of a personal view, since I'm one who has had nothing but positive reviews for the Ken Burns, stodgy and historically reverential. You can't blame Morgan for at least trying, but his idea creates two distinct elements that don't quite work in harmony. If this was a film using solely found footage, it would be a very good one and it already does most of the work of the film. It lays out what was happening in Chicago in August 1968, who was there, who led the radical protests, and what ultimately happened. What the film lays out is that Mayor Daley and his police force set up a quasi police state and treated the protesters in a way that a confrontation was inevitable. That the footage shows that the police were the ones who started the violence only re-inforce Daley's culpability. All of it is highly fascinating in its own regard and could stand alone (just don't try to use Eminem to make it feel up to date). Morgan then tacks on the trial of those the government accused of inciting those riots, Abbie Hoffman, Jerry Rubin, Tom Hayden, and Bobby Seale among them. Since no footage of the trial exists, Morgan takes transcripts and re-creates the events with rotoscope animation. I've never been a fan of rotoscoping to begin with so visually, it plays out in is swirling miasma. The bigger problem is that Morgan doesn't know how to treat the trial. It plays out as a Yippie exercise, politics as theatre, no doubt helped by Hoffman and Rubin's presence. There is a point that the trial itself was a kind of absurd theatre, but it was because of what the actions of the court, not of the defendants. The film equates the trial as just another showpiece, a platform to raise the absurdity of just what the government was trying to prove. It's a bit dangerous because there was certainly more to it than that. Also, it trivializes it and the defendants to an extent that for me, is too easy to explain. You can take liberties with history to an extent, to broaden an appeal but there's a point where the air just gets too cloudy. Chicago 10 does that enough to where it's just not effective enough as a historical piece of work.

Gone Baby Gone

Gone Baby Gone (Ben Affleck, 2007) [6]

A lot of praise has gone onto Affleck the director since probably most critics didn't see anything in his persona that would have made it possible for him to make a film that was any good. While I happen to agree that Gone Baby Gone is above average, it's never really does anything to raise it above a standard crime thriller. Its greatest attribute is its sense of propriety, that Affleck nails down the lower-class Boston existence of the characters in the film, and imbues the film with the knowledge of the city the same that Dennis Lehane's novel does. Even so, I find the film's plot straining credibility at times and Affleck never handles the material with anymore than a middle-of-the-road style. Casey Affleck and Bridget Monahan play a pair of P.I.s hired to investigate a missing child case. Affleck's character is one of these guys who has risen out of his rough neighborhood only to have to be brought back into it only to have it become an all-consuming obsession. The story weaves itself through a number of twists and turns, the standard operating procedure of any crime thriller (I won't give anything more away for those who haven't seen it). The plot does its job dutifully but its two other elements in the story that are somewhat secondary that have the most interest for me. The film has moments where it captures the media feeding frenzy a story like a missing child creates. Affleck shows the viewer how the media chews up and spits out the people involved in events that are much more beyond quick sound bites. The other interesting question is the moral one raised by the film's ending. The film asks what should the role of parenting be and when should the welfare of a child overrule the bonds of family. Amy Ryan's character (overrated by the way) as the drug-addicted mother is present to play this friction point. The answer is left unanswered as it should be but it holds much more interest to me than any plot twists involving cops and drug dealers. If Affleck had concentrated on these themes just a bit more, this had the potential to be a really good film. Even in its current form, it's a fairly good, safe picture.

The Times of Harvey Milk

The Times of Harvey Milk (Rob Epstein, 1984) [7]

While not quite an overall biography of Milk, who rose to prominence as one of the first openly gay elected members of government in the U.S., Epstein's film does a good job of covering the most influential times of Milk's life. The isn't simply about Milk being a gay man who got elected to San Francisco's Board of Supervisors; it serves as that, but it also as a rallying point, that Milk stood not just for gay rights for equal treatment for all downtrodden minorities. The way the film does this makes it an effective piece of work if you're sympathetic to Milk's ideals but could also be considered the weakest link in the picture's narrative thread. Epstein chooses to interview only those close to Milk and while this isn't necessarily bad, it treads into that territory of lionizing Milk instead of just praising the man and his causes. The film gives a little of that with the union mechanic won over by Milk's values but it would have been nice to see a little bit more of that. There are times when the film raises the points that Milk was a shrewd, media savvy politician but once again, there's not enough as the film centers on the greater issue of Milk fighting for the gay community's rights in San Francisco. There's nothing wrong with that but it all fits too easily into the film's latter conflict, the dichotomy/rivalry of Milk and fellow supervisor Dan White, the man who shot Milk and mayor George Moscone. White's persona serves as the counterpoint to Milk's and it almost backfires, as White and his ridiculous defense for his actions threaten to take over the film. Smartly, Epstein knows to hold back just enough to the greater ideas of Milk up front. All in all, the film works because it's an honest, heartfelt portrayal of a man who needed to have his story told.

Hiroshima Mon Amour

Hiroshima Mon Amour (Alain Resnais, 1959) [5]

I think that this will need a second viewing after some time but for whatever reason, at the present moment, I don't particularly care for this film. It's not that I think it's horrible because it's not; it is effective at times but for whatever reason I never got into it. I understand Resnais's rationale for the film, that the only way to make a film about an event like Hiroshima is to not make a film about it, but I don't necessarily agree with that. The first ten minutes or so of the film is much more direct in addressing the atomic attack on the city and is the most effective part of the film. The juxtaposition of the images of the museum with the audio of the more personal relationship that takes over the film is a fantastic contrast of themes. It would work so well on its own as a short film. The rest of the film centers more on the relationship of a French actress (the striking Emmanuelle Riva) and a Japanese architect (Eiji Okada) as they reconcile with their own histories of the tragic event. Once again, I understand that Resnais feels this is the best way to deal with the bigger ideas of nuclear destruction, guilt, and peace but the two characters' actions are too obtuse for me. If the film were about these two and their relationship without a bigger issue hanging over their head, perhaps it would be successful. Here, it feels too removed in its own "arty" (for lack of a better word) way. I am one who appreciates art film but this film really pushes it into that territory ripe for parody. These characters and their story border so much on such self-absorbed behavior so distant from the viewer that it's hard to like them. Again, I may have just caught this film on an off night for me but it feels too pretentious in its execution to really make me empathize or fully understand it. And I happen to like self-absorption and a pretentious attitude in my cinema. For whatever reason, Resnais's direction here doesn't sit well with me.

Persepolis

Persepolis (Vincent Paronnaud & Marjane Satrapi, 2007) [7]

In the Pixar age, when we come to expect almost lifelike qualities in animation, it's refreshing to see something a little simpler and unique. That isn't meant to mean the new age of computer animation is cookie cutter like but there's a romantic tinge to hand-drawn animation that scores some points in my book. I feel the same way about 16mm compared to DV but that's irrelevant here. In regards to this film, Persepolis is a charming, endearing film mostly because it stands out so much stylistically. An adaptation of Satrapi's graphic novels about growing up in revolutionary Iran, the film has its stronger moments when it focuses more on history and culture than on personal memoir. Maybe because it seems so foreign to someone like me, the first part of the film, going more into a historical background and examination of the state of Iran politically is the most intriguing. The thought that the overthrow of the Shah wouldn't and directly lead to the Islamic Revolution is a fact that often gets overlooked but is a focal point to Marjane's story. When the film discusses Iranian history and culture, it is a great film. The second half bleeds into a more personal memoir, where we have to deal with Marjane and her obnoxious adolescence, with only brief moments to take us back to the culture clash which is infinitely more interesting than Marjane's all too predictable rebellion. Still, all that is not enough to keep me from recommending the film and that the film's positives really outweigh any negatives I have about it. The animation style, done mostly in black and white, is such a contrast to what is seen now that it keeps Persepolis from being just another animated film.

Killer of Sheep

Killer of Sheep (Charles Burnett, 1977) [8]

It's always nice to be reminded that you don't need a Hollywood studio and a budget into the millions and millions to be able to make effective cinema. And it's all too often the case that Hollywood ignores social realism in favor of frivolous escapism. A film like Killer of Sheep re-affirms everything that can be great about moviemaking. Burnett made this film as a masters thesis while at UCLA, and its depiction of black life in Watts is not just one of the great achievements of African-American filmmaking but one of the great portraits of American life period. The movie plays out episodically, giving brief glimpses into the life of Stan, a slaughterhouse worker trying to care for his family and find personal and economic happiness. While I feel the first half-hour of the film, with its larger depiction of the Watts neighborhood, is a little too broad, the more the film focuses on Stan, the better it becomes. It's not so much that since the story is more focused means it's better; the scenes and moments that Burnett captures are much more powerful. Scenes like Stan and his wife dancing in their home, the family in the car on their first trip out of the neighborhood, even the slaughterhouse scenes are powerful. They capture precise moments but they also speak for a broader message that hangs over the film. It's that these people have no real opportunities, economic and otherwise, and their scraping to try and overcome those hurdles is almost impossible. It's in Stan's exhausted body coming home from work barely able to acknowledge his wife and kids. It's in the junk strewn dirt lots that the children in the neighborhood play in. And yet there's something so cinematically pure in how Burnett captures all of it that he allows little moments to shine so brightly. It's an astounding accomplished piece of work for someone who was still a student at the time. That since its initial release, it still stands as such a benchmark of a portrayal make Killer of Sheep all the more impressive.

Listening Post - June/July/August

I've decided to get rid of the monthly listening post and instead post when I have a handful of new releases. This batch features new material from a strong lineup of artists, especially the highly anticipated albums from My Morning Jacket and The Hold Steady. My take: Evil Urges is better than some of the critical reviews written about it while Stay Positive is solid but not close to the Hold Steady's last two albums.

The Hold Steady - Stay Positive
My Morning Jacket - Evil Urges
Dr. Dog - Fate
The Avett Brothers - The Second Gleam
Amos Lee - Last Days at the Lodge
Fleet Foxes - S/T

Gonzo: The Life and Work of Dr. Hunter Thompson

Gonzo: The Life and Work of Dr. Hunter Thompson (Alex Gibney, 2008) [7]

Gibney has created a thorough and at times captivating documentary on Thompson but for someone like myself, who has read and knows just about everything about the man, there isn't much in this film that is new. That doesn't mean that it isn't an enjoyable film, because it is. Gibney's greatest strength is that the film examines Thompson and the cultural persona he created as much as Thompson the author. We get Thompson's story through a variety of talking heads, from family to close friends to fellow authors. The film makes the case that Thompson was a immensely talented author, and his work on the Hell's Angels, the '72 Presidential campaign, and other events of the early 70s was the basis for the New Journalism movement as well as some of the most culturally significant writing of the era. Johnny Depp provides narration of Thompson's writing throughout at moments that really bring out the best elements in his writing. The excerpts from Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas and Fear & Loathing on the Campaign Trail show that beyond his Gonzo tendencies, Thompson could tap into something deeper, a keen understanding of how America operated and the path it was going to go down. While praising Thompson's work, the film also shows how that Dr. Gonzo personality overtook Thompson and led to a period of sub par writing and a characterization of the man that overshadowed everything else. Gibney pulls no strings in stating that the last twenty-five years of Thompson's life was him struggling with the persona his over indulgences had created. It's all well-done and entertaining but for any serious Thompson fan, it's nothing new. That Gibney creates parallels from Thompson's writing on Nixon to the current administration isn't surprising, with his prescient September 11th piece from espn.com showing his understanding of the situation. That the film ends with the interviewees stating how Thompson is needed now more than ever tells all you really need to know about the man.

The Grand

The Grand (Zak Penn, 2008) [4]

Penn's mockumentary of the world of high stakes poker suffers from a few problems. One, a cast full of funny people improving doesn't necessarily mean a funny movie. Two, the film suffers from having come two or three years too late to catch the poker boom. Third and perhaps most, the film suffers from the Christopher Guest effect; if every film of this type is going to be compared to Guest's films, it clearly pales in comparison. Fair or not, The Grand isn't consistent enough in its humor to really be considered much more than a Guest knockoff. The plot centers around Jack Faro (Woody Harrleson), just out of rehab, as he enters The Grand Championship of Poker in order to save his grandfather's casino to a egotistical developer (Michael McKean doing a crummy Trump variation). That serves as a springboard to be able to introduce a parade of characters, all interpretations of the various personalities televised poker has presented over the years. The problem here is that for those who have never watched poker, they'll wonder why some of these people act the way they do and those who know will find some of the characters to be weak imitations of real people who aren't that interesting to begin with. Faro is the only one who doesn't fall into a ready-made persona but he's the character who gets too few of the laughs. All the others have one or two funny moments but it's only Chris Parnell as a socially stunted math genius and Richard Kind playing the clueless amateur that bring any consistent laughs out of the film, mostly because they stretch the limits of their characters. David Cross and Cheryl Hines, on the other hand, fail a bit because they play characters like the real people at these events who are unlikable in the first place. And not that funny. The poker action is without much tension and too staged to advance the plot to really make it believable. If this film has just gone out there and become surreal and bizarre (as some brief instances of Werner Herzog's character bring out), it may have not turned into such a bore.

My Blueberry Nights

My Blueberry Nights (Wong Kar Wai, 2008) [5]

Wong's English language debut isn't horrible but it feels so slight and unfocused that I just can't seem to recommend it. It feels too flatly acted, with a few exceptions, and without real focus of emotion that turns it into a disappointment of sorts. Seeing how I've been a huge fan of Wong's last two efforts, the film doesn't appear to be in the same category. Norah Jones plays Elizabeth, a restless young woman going through a troubling break-up that gives her opportunities to meet a variety of characters. Some reviews have stated that Jones can't act but she fills her role fine. Her character isn't really meant to be the tent pole of the film; she is more there to be acted upon by the other characters, rather than to carry the film on her own personality. All this leads to the greater problem is that none of these other characters, other than David Strathairn's performance, which grows on me even after, fall noticeably flat in any resonance. Strathairn's lovelorn drunk is the type of character that Jones's Lizzy yearns to be and the only one capable of capturing what Wong seems to want to get across through this story. Jude Law, Natalie Portman, and Rachel Weisz are mainly forgettable in their performances. The plot itself follows the kind of interpretation of a cinematic America that can be found in Wim Wenders. I frankly prefer Wenders's version. While it may be a cinematic reality, Wong's film doesn't have enough of a grounding in something I can find in reality to make me care. In something like Paris, Texas, there is the payoff scene in the theatre. There's is nothing of that magnitude in My Blueberry Nights to make it that memorable.

In the Year of the Pig

In the Year of the Pig (Emile de Antonio, 1968) [7]

While a bit dry in spots, this film is a well researched and effective documentary. It certainly has a political agenda but is always level-headed and not shriekingly partisan as some political documentaries of today. Instead of focusing on the American combat mission, the film takes a more historical overview of Vietnam. The emphasis is on how the Vietnamese has been a constant struggle for Independence and how Ho Chi Minh is a national figure second to none in that nation. All of it leads to the central idea that the Vietnam war is (or was) an unwinnable war. de Antonio uses a wealth of different footage, most of it found footage, to get his message across and constructs a film effective in emphasizing its political message. Having seen this film years ago in a found footage class taught by experimental filmmaker Martin Arnold, it was definitely one of the more interesting pieces seen in a class focused mostly on experimental film. It doesn't quite hold up in esteem since that first viewing, mostly because of its tedious history lesson tone at times. Even with its detriments, it works and has clear parallels to the situation in Iraq and the documentaries born out of that conflict.

Funny Games Double Feature

Funny Games (Michael Haneke, 1997) [7]
This films should be considered as a deconstructive instrument more than a film. The plot and characterization are not elaborate, they're just there to serve as the vehicle for Haneke's ideas. Addressing the casual association violence has with violence, Funny Games takes the viewer into completely uncomfortable territory by using violence that is much more psychologically jarring that a standard blow-em-up action picture. It is incredibly unsettling and it achieves its objective not just through its violence but through the Brechtian tactics of breaking down the fourth wall. The killers take time to address the viewer and address the notion of reality and the film world, of the viewers' allegiances, and what is and should be acceptable in film violence.
To back up a bit, the plot of the film focuses on a bourgeoisie Austrian family heading out to their lake house for a vacation. Once there, two young men meet them and play out violent, sadistic acts on the family. These are not in the grotesque vein of the Saw and Hostel-style torture porn but a much more psychological violence that to me is much more effective. It raises the question of why those horror films and their explicit violence are nothing noteworthy but the relatively tame acts of these two in this film is much more horrifying in its own way. That is one of the themes Haneke is addressing here, pushing boundaries and tolerance. The film is meant solely to provoke a reaction, one of disgust that most violence in other American cinema no longer does. It does this by having the characters address the viewer, letting them know that they have an interest in these characters' well-being. The killers are also smart enough to realize that you as the viewer are going to side with the family, and hope they can somehow escape the situation. That what makes the film effective but what also makes it practically unlikable. You want these characters to escape but at the same time, it's in the back of your mind that it's practically impossible. Haneke gives the characters and the viewer glimmers of hope but they eventually collapse.
Haneke's mastery of the shots in the film make it effective without actually showing that much explicit violence. It's moments like the extended shot of the living room after one violent episode that do much more in getting inside the mind than any act of violence. The film is a series of brutal moments after the next but that's its aim and it exceeds despite any reservations about story or content.

Funny Games (Michael Haneke, 2008) [6]
This is essentially a shot by shot remake of the original, only this time starring more American friendly names like Naomi Watts and Tim Roth. It works about the same as the original but it begs the question why remake it in the first place. In fact, I prefer the more cold, reserved European aesthetics of the original in its impact. Maybe since Haneke is addressing the American fascination with film violence, making the film a little bit more palatable for an American audience makes sense. That doesn't explain why a lot of critical reviews barely mention the original as if this was some brand new film and the original can be discounted. It doesn't make any sense.

Rififi

Rififi (Jules Dassin, 1955) [9]

Rififi has been called the template for all other heist films that have come after it and for good reason. There are few scenes as memorable in film as the jewel heist scene in this film, taking up about a quarter of the film and with absolutely no dialogue. It's completely impressive and expertly done but it isn't the only reason this is a great film. All the elements of this film have come to define characteristics of the heist noir, from the characters to the eventual demise of what appeared to be a perfect plan. Tony (played with the right amount of stoic reserve by Jean Servais) has just recently been released from prison and is looking for his girlfriend on the outside. After finding out she has hooked up with shady gangster characters, Tony gets a group together for one last big score. It's a motley assortment of hoods and safe crackers that has become commonplace in film of its type today. It's a testament to Rififi that these type of characters have become that iconic. They pull off the robbery only to have one of the group succumb to the charms of a woman and let everything out into the open. The gangsters get wind and confront Tony to hand over the jewels. Once again, everything here plot wise has been done before but at the time, it was something new and unique. These elements, when done right, always create a great noir storyline filled with suspense. The ending gets a little bit bogged down in familial melodrama but it's not enough to dull the rest of the film. Dassin handles the material deftly. While the heist sequence is the showcase, there are many other directorial touches that are quite nice. Dassin has always had a way of utilizing his settings to maximum effect, whether it be London in Night and the City or New York in The Naked City. He treats Paris the same way here, paying particular attention to the neighborhoods of the action and making them feel like a character on its own. The sequence at the end, where Tony is racing against his ultimate demise is fantastic filmmaking, the camera racing through the streets of Paris. It's a great technical achievement but there's so much more to it. Dassin gives what could have been a cold, calculating noir some real life, an appreciation for characters and setting, and creating a lasting thriller.

Mr. Freedom

Mr. Freedom (William Klein, 1969) [5]

Klein's scathing satire of America's jingoistic bullying has never been readily available for viewing until this recent release as part of Criterion's Eclipse series. While the film get some points for being brutally harsh, the whole never quite adds up to make a great film. I've always held the belief that satire is either really good or really bad. While not completely either, Mr. Freedom misses its mark. The story revolves around a quasi super hero named Mr. Freedom, part of Freedom, Inc., a company whose goal appears to be spreading America's political and economic message around the world. Mr. Freedom has been dispatched to France, where Marxist and Chinese elements are undermining freedom and the like. Mr. Freedom arrives and bullies his way around attempting to get his way. When the French people reject him, Mr. Freedom has no choice but to blow the shit out of the country. It all plays out a little too ham-handed for me to really agree with it, but it fits into the kind of comic book mind the film has. The character of Mr. Freedom is a stock comic character, a la Captain America but Klein gets under the jingoistic facade to expose a scary underbelly. Mr. Freedom is an overt racist, and the beginning of the film shows him crashing into a black family's apartment and shooting one of them, thinking they're looters. It's incredibly harsh and while it may work to a certain degree, it really overshadows any of the more clever satire in the film. Those moments have less to do with Mr. Freedom himself but the skewering of the consumerist culture America has exported throughout the world. The best moment is when Mr. Freedom arrives in France and heads to the U.S. Embassy, which is essentially a supermarket. If there was a bit more of that, I may have liked it more. The other real flaw which just takes me out of the film is that the dialogue is horrible synced at times; it shouldn't make a difference and Klein was still a novice filmmaker at the time, but come on, you can do better than that.

Lust, Caution

Lust, Caution (Ang Lee, 2007) [5]

While visually arresting at times and precisely crafted by Lee, there are just too many moments in Lust, Caution that miss the correct mark that makes it comes across as stuffy and dull at too many moments. The word I keep thinking of to describe this film is hermetic, as in sealed. Everything is nice to look at, thanks to Rodrigo Prieto's cinematography, but it all feel cased in like a museum piece. As such, it's too hard for the viewer to really immerse themselves in the world of the film and all too often stuck admiring the film and not getting much out of it. It's a testament to Lee's abilities as a director to be able to at least craft a splendid looking film even though the story and characters don't really help him out much. The crux of the film is centered on the relationship between Mr. Yee (Tony Leung), the cautious government official and Wong (a good but not great Wei Tang), a secret agent for the Chinese resistance. The problem is the film takes way too long to get to the biggest moments of their relationship and the plot. Once they get there, the emotional timbre of the film feels off, again due to the hermetic nature of the film. The rigid look and setting of the film allow for no effective emotions to really get in between the two and when the film attempts to really make its moments, they feel fairly lackluster. Even someone with a good grasp on filmmaking as Ang Lee cannot get enough out of the characters. That idea hinges on the sexual nature of the relationship and of course, the sex scenes, which for me feel neither that necessary or erotic. The film just doesn't have enough of a variety of things: emotion, eroticism, historical exposition to make it work no matter how good it looks.

The Merchant of the Four Seasons

The Merchant of the Four Seasons (Rainer Werner Fassbinder, 1972) [8]

Fassbinder's dramas of the human condition are almost always steeped in Sirkian melodrama and yet, he somehow manages to not make them feel cheesy but vital in some way. In this film, which follows the travails of Hans (Hans Hirschmuller), a fruit vendor as he deals with his overbearing middle class family, honorable yet straying wife, and a past that he just can't leave behind. With this film, as well as some others, notable Fear Eats the Soul, Fassbinder shows such precision with getting the right emotional details out of his performers. A simple story such as this works because Fassbinder has such a compassion for a character such as Hans but is not afraid to show him suffering and, ultimately, fail in a pursuit of a happy life. The film really hinges on a theme found in Sirk, the idea of forbidden love, but it is never the focus of the film. Fassbinder is more concerned with showing the ramifications of the idea. Hans clearly cares for his wife, but even she realizes by the end that his heart has always belonged to another women. His middle-class family, who constantly criticize him in his career decisions, only help drain all the dreams that Hans once had. It certainly comes as no surprise that Hans should meet a less than ideal end after one devastating blow after another. It's too easy to call the film an overwhelming downer because even though it may be, it also directly addresses the hopes and dreams of the human condition. And while it may not meet a certain conclusion, the film makes you feel for Hans, which is all you can ask for.

George Carlin

George Carlin died Sunday. He has been one of the most important and one of my favorite comedians for as long as I've been into stand-up comedy. This video has been on some other sites the past few days, notably Deadspin, but it is perhaps my favorite Carlin bit:

Harlan County, U.S.A.

Harlan County, U.S.A. (Barbara Kopple, 1976) [10]

Harlan County, U.S.A. is unequivocally one of the best documentaries I have ever seen, and in this current age of egotistical partisanism in political documentaries, it's stands so much above in terms of intelligence and telling its story. That isn't meant to say the film has no political agenda, Kopple and company clearly side with the miners and their struggle but she constructs a film without hyperventilating bluster by realizing these are real people and treating them and their story with respect and a supreme understanding of their plight.

What makes the film is that story is highly compelling. In 1973, workers at a coal mine in Harlan County, Kentucky elected to join the United Mine Workers of America. The company that owned the mine refused to sign the union contract and as a result, the miners went on strike. This led to a series of picket lines, scabs, intimidation of the striking miners by company hired "gun thugs", and all the eroding passion and determination that a year plus strike can have on the miners and their families. Kopple recognizes right away the it's the people that propel this narrative and her sympathy with the miners and their families allow her insight into meetings, the picket lines themselves, and the true feelings of the families being effected. This obvious sympathy made her a target by the strikebreakers, as the famous scene of Basil Collins, the head strikebreaker, pointing a gun at Kopple and her camera crew and their subsequent beating at the hands of some scabs. The film shows numerous moments like this between the striking miners and the scabs, with the threat of violence ready to break out at any moment. The film smartly goes these skirmishes and its best moments are the ones capturing behind the scenes moments. The film has been notable for capturing the role of women in the strike, the wives, daughters, and mothers of the miners who recognize that a better future for their men will also mean improvements for their lives, as exemplified by the fact that the company owned housing they occupy has no indoor plumbing and running water. These women are the backbone of the film, showing as much courage and emotion as the men but also becoming a perfect embodiment of the women's lib movement that was exploding in the mid 70s. It is they who give the film emotion and empathy, the true soul of the film. When the moment comes when a striking mine worker is killed by a scab, it shows this. It's one of the most emotionally potent moments I have ever seen in cinema.

All the praise the film has gotten over the years is worth it. It's not a film about political ideology, even though it has a clear political point of view. The history of the union struggle in the mines as well as the fantastic union songs clearly show Kopple's allegiance. The film goes beyond a political argument into a social one, showing people struggling to find some decency and not be exploited. That should not be a disputed point.

4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days

I'm missing Bonnaroo for the first time since 2002 so I'm going to fill my disappointment with as many films as possible this weekend.

4 Weeks, 3 Months, and 2 Days (Christian Mungiu, 2008) [9]

Romanian cinema is certainly on a roll of late in terms of art film circles. 4m3W2D is another gritty, dark social drama, a la The Death of Mr. Lazerescu, and it's a supremely made, taut film that deserves much of the praise it's been given. It's not really a film about abortion however; in fact, there are some lapses in logic in the central story that would be glaring if the film wasn't so well made. It's more of a parable of living in the dying days of communist rule in Romania, full of paranoia and the grim struggle that was life. Mungiu focuses on two roommates, one named Gabita (Laura Vasiliu) that needs an abortion, which is illegal and her roomate, Otilia (Anamaria Marinca), who helps her with all the logistical details. Where Mungiu twists it a bit is that he spends his focus on Otilia, who ends up doing all the hard work for Gabita, who has neither thought out or has the will to do anything for herself. It's this focus on Otilia that keeps the film out of a hot-button argument about abortion and instead makes it more of a parable of living under a certain regime and time. The film follows Otilia as she helps rectify Gabita's bone-headed decisions, from meeting the smarmy and arrogant abortionist (Vlad Ivanov) to finding a hotel room after Gabita screws up her first attempt. The film clearly sympathizes with Otilia as she sacrifices herself for her friend. Mungiu expertly executes the tension surrounding the scenario without cheapening the mood of the film. The best example of this is when Otilia has to leave Gabita alone to visit her boyfriend and her parents. Those scenes speak most about the film and who Otilia is, not the issue of abortion itself. The scene of a long take of Otilia at the dinner table, washed in a sea of people who she has nothing in common with is a powerful moment of cinema, even if I'm not sure how it fits exactly. Mungiu deftly creates emotions out of the picture, the empathy we feel for the women, creating moments of tension when there really is no threat, and most of all, creating a look and feel of the film that shows the dreary, beaten down existence under the crumbling Ceausescu regime. It's such of film of assured craftsmanship and emotional connection that it's no wonder it has gotten the praise it deserves.

Turistas

Turistas (John Stockwell, 2006) [2]
Granted I haven’t seen many of the films of this so-called ‘torture porn’ genre or the likes of the American rubes abroad genre a la Hostel, but I can get the general idea. Usually, I have no inclination of seeing anything of this sort, but it’s strange what boredom and borderline depression will cause you to watch on a given morning.

Turistas is one of the most insulting films I’ve ever seen. I don’t care to hear arguments that this isn’t supposed to be a representation of reality or that it’s just another form of exploitation cinema; that doesn’t excuse it from being a stupid film dealing in stupid stereotypes. A group of Euro/American tourists (you know, from the civilized countries) end up stranded in the Brazilian jungle after their bus crashes. Instead of being good citizens, they head to the nearest beach and act like drunken jackasses, only to be robbed blind by the locals. They (no one in this group is worth pointing out individually) end up following one local to a home only to be unwitting participants to a mad doctor harvesting their organs. The doctor’s rationale for this is that he’s taking revenge on these pampered First-Worlders and giving something to the Third World. I’m not one of these America First conservatives so I don’t have an issue with the ideas present in this situation. I’m insulted because the whole premise is incredibly stereotypical and completely lacks creativity. By creating a horror film that preys on the fears of Americans, that if they go overseas, there are a bunch of supposedly unscrupulous locals ready to take advantage of you, whether it be ripping you off for shitty souvenirs or by drugging you and stealing your organs, is insulting to both the audience and the “others” they’re taking advantage of for a story. It makes no difference that this is an exaggeration of supposed urban legends or not meant to be taken seriously; it’s insulting to me as a filmgoer in general. This may be the snob in me speaking, but I expect something better in cinema. If you’re going to use insipid Third World stereotypes to set up a lame story where the only thing saving you is Olivia Wilde in a bikini, then it’s not worth it.