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.

Performance

Performance (Donald Cammell & Nicolas Roeg, 1970) [7]

This film has been called the best representation of the Swinging London of the late 60s but for me, that far from the most interesting part of it. Sure, it has all the sex, drugs, and music that would become the general overview of that time and yet, the story is fairly flat and uninteresting. James Fox plays Chas, a sadistic mob goon who needs to find a hideaway after killing a guy. He overhears a conversation which leads him to rent a room in a mansion occupied by a reclusive rock star named Turner, played by Mick Jagger and two young ladies (Anita Pallenberg and Michelle Breton). Once immersed in this new, strange world, Chas succumbs to Turner's mind games and the line between identities and reality get blurred. It really makes no use trying to unearth the story as it is never really there. Fox is acceptable in his role and Jagger really does nothing more than act the way people think of Mick Jagger. There's nudity, sex, and drugs; they're there but have none of the shocking nature they must have originally had. What makes the film important is Roeg's portion of the film, the photography and a result of that, the structure. It's amazing to me that a major Hollywood studio ever released this because it's one of the most experimental narrative films I've ever seen handled by an American studio. Warner Brothers whole rationale must have been solely based on the fact that Jagger was going to be in it. Cammell's basic plot plays with ideas of identity and the whole notion of performance, which he got from writings by Borges and Artaud. These ideas are stretching the boundaries of what, at least in film terms, would be acceptable and anticipated. That the ending sees a combination of Tuner and Chas's identities into one being is not surprising. By pushing some radical ideas around, the film itself can take a very loose, radical approach. There are some images in this that are challenging to decipher yet they make the film work because the film never settles down. Performance is a film that led to an opening of structure in British cinema. I feel it has a lot in common with another film out of Britain near the same time, Dyn Amo by Stephen Dwoskin. That film takes its ideas of identity, sex, and what Freud called 'the gaze' to a much more extreme area but it has the same mentality as this film. I happen to like films that are challenging the viewer with new or difficult images or subject matter and Performance, especially Nicolas Roeg's work, meet that criteria.

Monthly Listening Post - Late for May/Early for June

I realized I missed posting one of these for the last month, so this one covers everything within that frame.

The Black Angels - Directions to See a Ghost
Hayes Carll - Trouble In Mind
Jamie Lidell - Jim
Old 97s - Blame It On Gravity
Sun Kil Moon - April
The Dodos - Visiter
Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago

Some new film reviews will be coming soon.

Death on the Oregon Trail

For a while your humble film snob has been ranting and raving about how shitty a place Upstate New York is and how I can't wait to get to Portland, Oregon. Well, I've been out here a month now and let's just say that things didn't turn out the way they played out in the mind. So, it's with my tail between my legs and with great humiliation that I'm packing up all my shit and heading back to the comfort that is the place that I've railed against since the inception of this useless blog. One part of this is musical, since I'm heading back just in time to go to the Radio Woodstock Mountain Jam at Hunter Mountain in the Catskills. Since I'm not going to Bonnaroo, a lineup that features the Drive-By Truckers, Dr. Dog, Ray LaMontagne, and the Felice Brothers being a short drive from my home is too inticing not too take up is one reason. The other is being the piss poor economy, which hasn't been helped by this incompetent administration. I know that the President doesn't have that much influence over the economic system, but still, this guy has fucked up so much that you can't blame it on him at least a little...

Anyway, the point being of this post is that I'm wussing out and heading back to Upstate New York even though I said that Portland would be so much better. The truth is that the neighborhood I've been crashing in has shown me all I've need to know about the Portland hipster. And while you're Useless Film Snob may seem like a hipster from his musical likes, the truth is I can't stand most of them. So, the best thing I can think of is to retreat to the Hippie-friendly paradises of Ithaca (and to Binghamton to a lesser extent, even though it's full of bat-shit crazy fascists) to get my views on music and film across.

All of this is meant to say that the Useless Film Snob will be relocating to the liberal oasis that is Ithaca, New York (and this is for real, no more b.s.) After being on the West Coast for a month, I've now come to realize that having a crappy job in Ithaca and being able to post useless shit on this blog is more important than being out here in the Pacific Northwest, unemployed and completely miserable.

The Killing Fields

The Killing Fields (Roland Joffe, 1984) [5]

It's hard to not like a film like this because it makes you feel like you don't give a care about the situation in Cambodia that this portrays. That's not to say what the Khmer Rogue did was wrong but there is definitely a difference between history and film. This film is no different than any other kind of middlebrow picture Hollywood has put out about world situations, mostly in the third world. The plot is based on Sydney Schanberg's time in Cambodia during the Civil War and Khmer Rogue take over. The first half of the film deals directly this. The second half deals with Schanberg's colleague and translator, Dith Pran, as he struggles to free from the forced agrarian labor camps set up by the Khmer Rogue. The main problem is the same flaw that hampers all films of this sort: it creates such a sense of guilt and shame in the Western viewer seeing what to them are barbaric actions by a people different from them. My problem doesn't have to deal with anything with the situation itself; the actions were clearly barbaric but in strictly film terms, the entire situation is manipulative. Joffe uses Dith Pran's ordeal and suffering to further his own sense of self-approval for telling the world of the horrific situation in Cambodia. It's not to say that he shouldn't but the whole film smacks so much of a sense of superiority in the filmmaker that he's doing a deed that so many other aren't that it completely taints the film. Couple with that that the film just isn't executed that well, with performances that are too stilted and emotionally empty that it really almost does a disservice to the story being told. Then again, the ending in all its standard uplifting glory is just too hard to be completely removed from, so Joffe must have done something well enough to work. Just for once, though, I would like to see a major film that handles third world affairs without such a heavy hand and tells its story without the sanctimonious babble.

Southland Tales

Southland Tales (Richard Kelly, 2007) [4]

This isn't quite the complete disaster that many reviews have made it out to be but it's way too messy to make me think it's any good either. A terrorist attack on American soil has turned the nation into a quasi-police state headed by a surveillance agency with ties to a vice-presidential candidate and a company producing a new form of energy called Liquid Karma. A group of "neo-Marxists" is attempting to overthrow the government by exploiting an action star with amnesia (Dwyane Johnson, or The Rock) who happens to be married to a the vice-presidential candidate's daughter. A lot of other characters come and go all leading to an ending steeped in supernatural gibberish, a la Kelly's last film, Donnie Darko. Kelly's script has so many different tangents and characters with so many stories that it creates a film that is so meandering that it's too difficult to really know what's going on. Just because the story is sprawling doesn't automatically make this a bad film. Kelly makes the film convoluted because he is trying to say too much and a lot of what he saying is complete nonsense. The main problem with this film is that Kelly often diffuses any criticism of the film by certain defense elements. The political ideology of the film is fairly half-baked, especially the neo-Marxists, whose knowledge of Marxism must not gotten beyond reading dorm room posters. Kelly compensates for this by having a character mention that these Marxists know next to nothing. Right there, I lost all respect for any political ideas the film attempts to make. Another defense mechanism is that Kelly fills the film with a cavalcade of B-list and character actors like John Laroquette, Wallace Shawn, and SNL relics like Cheri Oteri, Nora Dunn, and John Lovitz. It comes of as an ironic, wink-wink, remember this guy type of move that says don't take this film that seriously. Aside from these actors, the main performances pretty much stink, especially Sarah Michelle Gellar and The Rock. The only real credible performance, surprisingly enough, is Justin Timberlake, helped by his surreal sequence lip-synching The Killers' 'All These Things That I've Done.' It's the only real moment where the film goes beyond the story and shows some sign of craft. The ending is more confusing and sloppy than the rest of the film. In spite of this, there were never really any moments that I absolutely hated about this film. The problem is that there weren't enough moment in that I actually liked either.

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (Julian Schnabel, 2007) [6]

It's hard to dislike this film because it's central message, of finding some kind of optimism in a horrible situation, is something that most humans are programmed to react favorably to. I have no qualms with what the film says but I don't completely buy into the way it's constructed. Schnabel has received a lot of accolades for his decision to make the camera a first person device, letting the viewer experience what Jean-Dominique Bauby experienced after he suffered a massive stroke. It's not a bad decision but to me, it feels that Schnabel is doing too much of the work. Of course it's going to be incomprehensible to know that experience that Bauby was in, but it feels put upon by Schnabel is this is how the viewer should feel. I'm never completely comfortable having this made up for me before I really get into the film. Perhaps I'm making too much out of this but I feel this is the one element that is causing the film to be praised. It's skilled filmmaking, no doubt; however, its force of perspective doesn't enthrall me. If you want visual flair, go watch some Brakhage or Ernie Gehr. Outside of that, I found when the film removes itself from Bauby's perspective, it becomes better. Mathieu Amalric is in a tough position as Bauby, playing a difficult role that by its nature, doesn't call attention to itself. This may not sound like me, but the moments that speak truest are the ones that border on middlebrow melodrama, family strife and the connections the paralyzed Bauby makes with his caretakers. Emmanuelle Seigner, Marie-Josee Croze, and Anne Cosigny are all very good but it's Max Van Sydow as Bauby's ailing father that's the real unsung character of this. The scene where he calls his paralyzed son does more to express the themes of life and death, the optimism over despair that Schnabel spells out through the rest. Only a heartless cynic could find this film trite but let's not fall over ourselves praising it either. The story may be inspiring but there are stylistic flaws I just don't agree with.

No End In Sight

No End In Sight (Charles Ferguson, 2007) [7]

Because it has no political axe to grind, No End In Sight is being seen as the more levelheaded of all the Iraq documentaries. It may also have to do as much with style as substance. Ferguson crafts a film straight-forward in its goals and executions without a any loud, partisan tactics. It's this textbook like approach to the film, laying out all its information very succinctly, that will get it called non-partisan. But it also makes it a bit lackluster. For a film that documents all the catastrophic blunders and arrogance of those in the Bush Administration that concocted the Iraq War, it should make me feel a bit more outraged. Instead, it comes out as a depressed resignation that it's a situation that we're (I'm referring to the American public in the collective we) stuck in for quite a long time. Ferguson doesn't handle any of the ideological ideas behind going into the war but instead sticks to what happens after the move for war was made. Without going into a laundry list, it's a series of mistakes and reckless action by those in the Bush administration (Rumsfeld, Cheney, Wolfowitz) that ended up causing a cavalcade of problems in Iraq that should have been avoided. What's most interesting is that the top of the Defense department, more than likely with Cheney's assistance, overrode every red flag raised by others like the State department and their own generals. Ferguson interviews key figures in the planning of the occupation who tell of blunders like de-Baathifiqation and dissolving the Iraqi army, which subsequently led to the collapse of any infrastructure and helped embolden the insurgency. It paints a picture of key figures in the administration as either so blindly arrogant or so incredibly incompetent that it should be appalling to every American. The sad conclusion of the film is that this is really everything that most everyone should already know. Instead of attempting to ask or give some answers, Ferguson cops out and gives a recap montage that is the film's only weak spot in terms of construction. It is weak enough that it causes the film not to be as strong of a statement that it could have been. But then again, if you needed this film to change your position on the war, things may be just as bad as I think they are.

The Savages

The Savages (Tamara Jenkins, 2007) [7]

Give Jenkins credit for not turning this material into sympathetic schmaltz and handling the issue of the mental deterioration of a parent with some cold realism. Of course it's easy in doing that to make the film a continuous bummer and yet again, Jenkins carefully handles her situations and characters with enough thought and humor to make it all go down a little easier. Laura Linney and Philip Seymour Hoffman play siblings who end up having to care for their ailing father, who they have been estranged for for most of their adult lives. Both are people so wrapped up in all their personal misery and problems that having to care for a man that both of them don't care much for is that it creates the central conflict. The problems of their father let both characters to vent their personal issues with each other, which is done with enough wit and laughs to keep both Linney and Hoffman lively. They both play sad-sacks and it could have easily been a display of full-on loathing and a depression that is all too often done to death in independent film. What works is that these characters, no matter how much they might want to not care about a man that they feel didn't care enough for them, is that they actually do. It's these poignant moments crafted by Jenkins that gives the film it's heart when it could have easily all heart, overly sentimental, or distanced and snarky, afraid to deal with the issue at hand. Philip Bosco, as the dementia-addled father, helps this because his actions and dialogue interject the sibling bickering and remind them, as well as the viewer, what the real crux of the film comes down to. The Savages is a powerful film in spots, with the ending feeling a little disjointed in terms of emotions from the rest of the film, but overall it paints a fairly true picture of an issue few films would want to seriously deal with.

One Bright Shining Moment

One Bright Shining Moment (Stephen Vittoria, 2005) [5]

I just finished reading Hunter Thompson's fantastic book on the George McGovern '72 Presidential bid, Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72, and this seemed like a natural follow-up. While Thompson uses his wit and offbeat tangents to deaden some of the political venom in his book, this film get tripped up by its starry-eyed canonization of McGovern as well as their all too easy demonization of the Nixon era. If a documentary is going to be so blatantly one-sided in its portrayal, it has to do something with humor or other sleight of hand to soften some of the edges. This film is only going to appeal to those who truly believed in McGovern or the followers of the more liberal wing of the Democratic Party he created. It's probably just what it wants to do but a good film it does not make. For a film whose title refers specifically to McGovern's presidential campaign, it shouldn't take more than half the film just to get there. The first half of the film is nice in setting up who McGovern is, what a nice guy he is, how he was respected, and so on. It's all good but it pales in interest compared to the nuts and bolts of running for President. There are a number of interesting facets to McGovern's run that get covered. The weakness is that they aren't gone to in an in-depth way that would have made a more credible film. The basic thesis of the film, that an principled, ethical liberal such as McGovern, who was thought to have a snowball's chance in Hell of being nominated, and then actually succeeding, says a lot about the political process. The addresses it but never really gives an acceptable discussion on it. That the delegate rules of the '72 made the old labor/city boss style of politics in the Democratic party is interesting but discussion never goes beyond the inclusionary values of the new system. Nixon is handled in too broad of terms but the raising of the Southern Strategy and the veiled racism it entailed, could have been brought out more because of its resonance. I think George McGovern was a good guy. He ran a Presidential campaign as close to my own beliefs as anyone of the last half-century. It's too bad that Vittoria couldn't make a little bit better film out of the information given.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.