Appall-o 18.
The only thing that made this movie better than Transformers was that they didn't waste nearly as much money making it.
Moon rocks are really spiders that go in your skin! And are really boring! And are trying way too hard with too many loud-music-in-place-of-actual-scares moments!
Just awful. Not even good for a laugh.
Blah. I had to go eat a donut afterwards to feel like the evening wasn't entirely wasted.
Showing posts with label In Some Way Historical. Show all posts
Showing posts with label In Some Way Historical. Show all posts
13 November 2011
13 October 2011
Iris (Cirque du Soleil-- Kodak Center, Los Angeles)
Iris (pronounced the French way, "ee-rees") isn't a movie; it's a Cirque du Soleil show that's playing right now at the Kodak Theater (where they film the Academy Awards) in L.A., the theme of which is the history of cinema and movie making.
Needless to say, when I several months ago first saw the advertisements for this show, I was overwhelmed with enthusiasm and excitement. This buoyant feeling almost immediately (and predictably) devolved into anxiety that Cirque would somehow manage to screw it up and thereby incur my wrath for sullying the subject that has been my passion for quite some time now. Despite my apprehension, however, I ended up deciding to go to the show anyway, because I've been fortunate enough to have seen several Cirque shows over the last ten years and I thoroughly enjoyed them all.
Fast forward to September 11th, 2011 (yes, I'm a little behind on my blogging) and you'll find me nearly moved to tears within seconds of being seated before the show starts, because I can see from the get-go that the crazy French Canadian Guy Laliberte (CEO of Cirque du Soleil) has done yet another mind bogglingly competent job putting together a crazy-weird-circus-fantasy spectacle.
My favorite pre-show attraction was the female mime wandering the crowd with a metal contraption surrounding her body. She solicited several people to spin her curious cylinder-skirt, and when no one would do it fast enough to suit her needs she gave it a yank herself. To the delight of the crowd, her skirt (which resembled a film reel turned on its side) revealed itself to be a working zoetrope showing boxers fighting each other in a short, repeated loop. Rewind to February of 2005 and you'll find a fresher-faced me sitting in my history of early cinema class at UC Berkeley watching a very enthusiastic young professor (Professor Kaveh Askari, a graduate of the University of Chicago (?) if you were wondering) demonstrating much smaller versions of the same pre-cinematic device and others like it. This was probably the moment that I decided I loved film and wanted to learn everything about it, and so for the Cirque show to reference it meant a lot to me. (<-- huge understatement) The rest of the show was no different in terms of its emotional impact. Nearly every single aspect connected to some aspect of film as an art form, film history, or film production. Some of the references made were: - Norman McLaren's "Pas de deux"
- Georges Melies' "A Trip to the Moon"
- Edison's "Electrocution of an Elephant" (part of the Cinema of Attractions)
"The Kiss"
- Lotte Reiniger's "Adventures of Prince Achmed"
- Dziga Vertov's "The Man with the Movie Camera" or "The Cinematic Orchestra"
- The Al Jolson film "The Jazz Singer"
- And even what I took as a reference to a particular character from a Hayao Miyazaki film (Howl's Moving Castle)
All these references (and many, many more) were integrated with the usual Cirque spectacle of acrobatics, contortionists, a loose, somewhat dubious romantic narrative that ties the show together, wonderful live music, and some silly clowns which Cirque here opted to use to refer to modern day Hollywood industry stereotypes.
My favorite part was the McLaren reference, because it took a series of dancers and placed them in front of an enormous screen that showed their motion trails, just like in "Pas de deux". I also greatly relished the carnival/vaudeville aspect to this particular Cirque show (though I recognize it's a somewhat common theme throughout them and circus in general), because it connected back to the roots of film as a sort of freak show attraction. I also was just as much impressed by the integration of technology into the acts (I'm thinking in particular of one scene that's incredibly difficult to describe, so I'll leave it up to you to go experience it for yourself) as I was by the skill of the performers, some of whom are Olympic athletes.
I can't say whether many people in the audience understood these myriad references to cinema, but whether or not they did is not important to me. I loved the show because it reminded me of a time in my life not so long ago when I was ruled by a singular passion and drive inspired by the art form of film. Though this time isn't very far distant from me, it feels miles away. Because I am acutely aware of the literal (and metaphorical) distance I've traveled since those glorious days of oblivious (arguably naive) infatuation with my chosen subject of study, Iris moved me quite deeply insofar as it helped me reconnect with past moments in the sun, and I know this intensely personal experience would certainly not be what most people experience on seeing the show.
I highly recommend that you see Iris if you love film and you're in Los Angeles. You won't regret it.
Needless to say, when I several months ago first saw the advertisements for this show, I was overwhelmed with enthusiasm and excitement. This buoyant feeling almost immediately (and predictably) devolved into anxiety that Cirque would somehow manage to screw it up and thereby incur my wrath for sullying the subject that has been my passion for quite some time now. Despite my apprehension, however, I ended up deciding to go to the show anyway, because I've been fortunate enough to have seen several Cirque shows over the last ten years and I thoroughly enjoyed them all.
Fast forward to September 11th, 2011 (yes, I'm a little behind on my blogging) and you'll find me nearly moved to tears within seconds of being seated before the show starts, because I can see from the get-go that the crazy French Canadian Guy Laliberte (CEO of Cirque du Soleil) has done yet another mind bogglingly competent job putting together a crazy-weird-circus-fantasy spectacle.
My favorite pre-show attraction was the female mime wandering the crowd with a metal contraption surrounding her body. She solicited several people to spin her curious cylinder-skirt, and when no one would do it fast enough to suit her needs she gave it a yank herself. To the delight of the crowd, her skirt (which resembled a film reel turned on its side) revealed itself to be a working zoetrope showing boxers fighting each other in a short, repeated loop. Rewind to February of 2005 and you'll find a fresher-faced me sitting in my history of early cinema class at UC Berkeley watching a very enthusiastic young professor (Professor Kaveh Askari, a graduate of the University of Chicago (?) if you were wondering) demonstrating much smaller versions of the same pre-cinematic device and others like it. This was probably the moment that I decided I loved film and wanted to learn everything about it, and so for the Cirque show to reference it meant a lot to me. (<-- huge understatement) The rest of the show was no different in terms of its emotional impact. Nearly every single aspect connected to some aspect of film as an art form, film history, or film production. Some of the references made were: - Norman McLaren's "Pas de deux"
- Georges Melies' "A Trip to the Moon"
- Edison's "Electrocution of an Elephant" (part of the Cinema of Attractions)
"The Kiss"
- Lotte Reiniger's "Adventures of Prince Achmed"
- Dziga Vertov's "The Man with the Movie Camera" or "The Cinematic Orchestra"
- The Al Jolson film "The Jazz Singer"
- And even what I took as a reference to a particular character from a Hayao Miyazaki film (Howl's Moving Castle)
All these references (and many, many more) were integrated with the usual Cirque spectacle of acrobatics, contortionists, a loose, somewhat dubious romantic narrative that ties the show together, wonderful live music, and some silly clowns which Cirque here opted to use to refer to modern day Hollywood industry stereotypes.
My favorite part was the McLaren reference, because it took a series of dancers and placed them in front of an enormous screen that showed their motion trails, just like in "Pas de deux". I also greatly relished the carnival/vaudeville aspect to this particular Cirque show (though I recognize it's a somewhat common theme throughout them and circus in general), because it connected back to the roots of film as a sort of freak show attraction. I also was just as much impressed by the integration of technology into the acts (I'm thinking in particular of one scene that's incredibly difficult to describe, so I'll leave it up to you to go experience it for yourself) as I was by the skill of the performers, some of whom are Olympic athletes.
I can't say whether many people in the audience understood these myriad references to cinema, but whether or not they did is not important to me. I loved the show because it reminded me of a time in my life not so long ago when I was ruled by a singular passion and drive inspired by the art form of film. Though this time isn't very far distant from me, it feels miles away. Because I am acutely aware of the literal (and metaphorical) distance I've traveled since those glorious days of oblivious (arguably naive) infatuation with my chosen subject of study, Iris moved me quite deeply insofar as it helped me reconnect with past moments in the sun, and I know this intensely personal experience would certainly not be what most people experience on seeing the show.
I highly recommend that you see Iris if you love film and you're in Los Angeles. You won't regret it.
02 August 2011
The Illusionist (L'illusionniste) (2010)
The Illusionist is the animated interpretation of a script by the late great French filmmaker Jacques Tati. Directed by Sylvain Chomet (who was responsible for the much lauded The Triplets of Belleville (2003)), this film has a reputation for being compulsory viewing and is generally marketed as some type of Francophone animated masterpiece.
Admittedly, this aura of greatness is the justified result of being associated with both Tati and Chomet, whose honestly earned reputations managed to launch The Illusionist into that cringe-worthy category of film that "anyone interested in the cinema simply must see" and, implicitly, value and enjoy.
As you might expect, I could not wholeheartedly buy into the charm of this adaptation of Tati's work. Yes, the animation was charming. Yes, there were neat visual puns and clever tongue-in-cheek caricatures of various figures. Yes, there was a vicious rabbit and a wide eyed girl speaking Scottish Gaelic.
Yet there was a hole here, a gap. A lack. Charisma without depth, perhaps? The animation was nice, but not that creative. The story was gently frustrating, with safely low stakes for everyone involved. The extremely minimalistic dialogue was refreshing, but with so little a compelling story behind it, ultimately ill used.
Overall I sadly cannot recommend this film. If you're very interested in animation you'll probably watch it anyway, but consider yourself forewarned of disappointment.
Admittedly, this aura of greatness is the justified result of being associated with both Tati and Chomet, whose honestly earned reputations managed to launch The Illusionist into that cringe-worthy category of film that "anyone interested in the cinema simply must see" and, implicitly, value and enjoy.
As you might expect, I could not wholeheartedly buy into the charm of this adaptation of Tati's work. Yes, the animation was charming. Yes, there were neat visual puns and clever tongue-in-cheek caricatures of various figures. Yes, there was a vicious rabbit and a wide eyed girl speaking Scottish Gaelic.
Yet there was a hole here, a gap. A lack. Charisma without depth, perhaps? The animation was nice, but not that creative. The story was gently frustrating, with safely low stakes for everyone involved. The extremely minimalistic dialogue was refreshing, but with so little a compelling story behind it, ultimately ill used.
Overall I sadly cannot recommend this film. If you're very interested in animation you'll probably watch it anyway, but consider yourself forewarned of disappointment.
20 March 2011
Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work (2010)
Overall message of this documentary: Joan Rivers is egotistical and mean, and yet sadly fragile inside.
To which I hereby officially respond--meh.
This lackluster doc leaves out what I could consider to be any truly interesting or surprising information, instead mostly just showing us the Joan Rivers we already knew.
The result is a not very bold or unexpected, not very thought provoking, and largely pointless hour and a half about a funny lady and her dirty laundry.
To which I hereby officially respond--meh.
This lackluster doc leaves out what I could consider to be any truly interesting or surprising information, instead mostly just showing us the Joan Rivers we already knew.
The result is a not very bold or unexpected, not very thought provoking, and largely pointless hour and a half about a funny lady and her dirty laundry.
29 January 2011
The Secret of Kells (2009)
Very mesmerizing visually, slightly less spectacular plot-wise.
I was delighted to find out that the story is based on an actual book-—an illuminated manuscript of the Gospel from ninth century Ireland.
Overall, a lovely film to behold. Certainly worth your time.
I was delighted to find out that the story is based on an actual book-—an illuminated manuscript of the Gospel from ninth century Ireland.
Overall, a lovely film to behold. Certainly worth your time.
02 January 2011
18 October 2010
Severed Ways (2007)
Wanna watch the worst movie ever? Watch this!
You’ll see:
-Poop coming out of a dude’s butt
-Extremely anachronistic headbanging to metal
-Guys in really bad wigs speaking slangy Norse in digitally-altered-to-be-lower voices
-Random acts of arson
-Unexplained and unnecessary shaky camera
-Beautiful scenery of northeastern Canada
In short: all you could ever wish for in a bad movie. Ripe for a couple hours of colorful commentary from you and your friends (possibly inebriated). Vent your pent up aggression, sarcasm, and rage toward your TV or computer screen. The movie can’t talk back, and won’t make any effort to get you to like it!
A spectacle of unspeakably bad moviemaking. Enjoy.
You’ll see:
-Poop coming out of a dude’s butt
-Extremely anachronistic headbanging to metal
-Guys in really bad wigs speaking slangy Norse in digitally-altered-to-be-lower voices
-Random acts of arson
-Unexplained and unnecessary shaky camera
-Beautiful scenery of northeastern Canada
In short: all you could ever wish for in a bad movie. Ripe for a couple hours of colorful commentary from you and your friends (possibly inebriated). Vent your pent up aggression, sarcasm, and rage toward your TV or computer screen. The movie can’t talk back, and won’t make any effort to get you to like it!
A spectacle of unspeakably bad moviemaking. Enjoy.
10 August 2010
The Runaways (2010)
This based-on-a-true-story film about the formation of the all girl rock band The Runaways was kind of a letdown, but that wasn’t particularly surprising given the criticism it already received, both when it made the festival circuit and when it was distributed more widely.
I was hoping that critics had been unjustified in rating it so low, but sadly they were right. It was a pretty boring movie overall. Eyebrow raising, considering that the story it tells (of how Joan Jett and company were brought together to form a rather groundbreaking band) is actually pretty interesting in and of itself. It just wasn’t served by the filmmaking and the way the whole thing was put together.
What I did like, however, was Kristen Stewart’s performance. Finally breaking away from the moody teenager romantic angst figure that she’s been associated with so far, Stewart actually convincingly portrays Jett in presumably accurate fashion (Jett herself has been quoted as saying Stewart actually became her for the film)*. Anyone who reads this blog regularly knows that I’m already a fan of Stewart for various reasons, but I think here in The Runaways Stewart’s performance can show that she’s actually a quality actor to those who aren’t on Team Bella.
Maybe rent it if you’re interested in the music history already, or if you’re really keen on seeing Kristen Stewart make out with Dakota Fanning. Overall- meh.
*I don’t remember where. Most likely in an interview in Entertainment Weekly.
I was hoping that critics had been unjustified in rating it so low, but sadly they were right. It was a pretty boring movie overall. Eyebrow raising, considering that the story it tells (of how Joan Jett and company were brought together to form a rather groundbreaking band) is actually pretty interesting in and of itself. It just wasn’t served by the filmmaking and the way the whole thing was put together.
What I did like, however, was Kristen Stewart’s performance. Finally breaking away from the moody teenager romantic angst figure that she’s been associated with so far, Stewart actually convincingly portrays Jett in presumably accurate fashion (Jett herself has been quoted as saying Stewart actually became her for the film)*. Anyone who reads this blog regularly knows that I’m already a fan of Stewart for various reasons, but I think here in The Runaways Stewart’s performance can show that she’s actually a quality actor to those who aren’t on Team Bella.
Maybe rent it if you’re interested in the music history already, or if you’re really keen on seeing Kristen Stewart make out with Dakota Fanning. Overall- meh.
*I don’t remember where. Most likely in an interview in Entertainment Weekly.
19 May 2010
Robin Hood (2010)
Ok blog readers. I am going to tell you something. Get ready for it. Ok, prepared?
I’m a feminist.
No, not the kind from the ‘60s. Not the kind from the ‘70s or ‘80s. Not even really the kind from the ‘90s either, even though that's when I grew up. The kind from right now, probably more aptly named queer-something-or-other. I’m into thinking about things like gender, sex, sexuality, queerness, LGBT issues, etc. And specifically thinking about how these sometimes broad, intangible concepts intersect and interact with pretty much every aspect of real life that you could imagine. And how those interactions, whether under-wraps or overstated in day to day life, are inevitably and often interestingly manifested in the media, specifically film.
In case you didn’t realize that I had this thought pattern from older posts, I just thought I should let you know. Because I am about to go off on a pretty specific aspect of the latest cinematic iteration of Robin Hood Hollywood is offering. You know. The one that’s out right now, with Russell Crowe and Cate Blanchett. Yeah.
Here’s the thing: this movie is dumb. I don’t even know if I can confidently say that this movie ever even had the potential to be good. I mean, you take a story that’s been done many times over on film and you pretty much give us the exact same thing with different actors. I think there was one moment of suspense in the whole thing. One. And the fight scenes. The endless and repetitive fight scenes. Please stop.
But even if you set aside the unoriginality of the most recent Robin Hood—which I grant that you could, if you’re a huge fan of the mythology and you’re really into seeing “the olden days” reconstructed with a big budget—even then. Even. Then. You can’t ignore the annoyance of the treatment of the character of Marion Loxley, played by Cate Blanchett.
She starts out as this ridiculously capable woman who runs a whole town for ten years during her husband’s absence. She manages the household, she runs off thieves, she fights for the townpeoples’ rights, etc. Basically she performs the roles of Lord and Lady of the Manor simultaneously and effectively, albeit not without struggle. Great. This is good.
But then guess what happens. Russell Crowe shows up and through some silly and contrived arrangement gets to pretend that Marion is his wife. All of a sudden it’s “Wife, get me this” “Wife, show me the village so I don’t look like an idiot” and “Wife, ask me nicely.” So she swoons. She swoons. After approximately three days of knowing each other, they’re exchanging dramatic ‘I love you’s and slow dancing prom style to some Medieval band. Apparently for no other reason than that Robin Hood put her in her place. Awesome.
And that’s not all. The filmmakers have the audacity to have Marion follow Robin into battle, predictably striving to do some heroics while actually just messing everything up because of her unsurprising ineptitude at hand to hand combat. Guess who saves her. I’m lucky my eyes didn’t get stuck rolling so far back into my head at this particular scene.
But do you know what? I’m not even mad about Robin Hood. I think we all could have predicted that this was the type of female “heroine” that we’d be offered in this type of movie. Plus, historically, this version of Marion would probably have been burned at the stake for her extremely progressive attitude. So I guess this is progress.
What I’m really mad about is the recent news that they’re planning on remaking The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo with Hollywood actors. As in (probably) a more conventional leading lady, a more palatable storyline, and less grittiness. (They’re also planning on re-doing the recent awesome movie Let the Right One In, but that’s fodder for a whole other angry essay.)
Anyway, this “leave the Swedes alone” moment isn’t an entirely unrelated tangent. Because the fact that Western mass media markets actually prefer Blanchett’s performance of the acceptable version of a the life and romance of a “strong woman” over something like the remarkably different and varied versions of femininity, feminism, sexuality, sex, gender, etc that world has to offer… That’s what really bothers me.
Seriously, it’s 2010, and we’re still all buying into the whole “she couldn’t do it without a strong man” crap? How is this still even a thing? I’m so tired of it. I swear to God I’d pay $100 a ticket if Hollywood was to produce a movie that in any way took a risk when it came to how it handled its female characters.
Am I the only one?
I’m a feminist.
No, not the kind from the ‘60s. Not the kind from the ‘70s or ‘80s. Not even really the kind from the ‘90s either, even though that's when I grew up. The kind from right now, probably more aptly named queer-something-or-other. I’m into thinking about things like gender, sex, sexuality, queerness, LGBT issues, etc. And specifically thinking about how these sometimes broad, intangible concepts intersect and interact with pretty much every aspect of real life that you could imagine. And how those interactions, whether under-wraps or overstated in day to day life, are inevitably and often interestingly manifested in the media, specifically film.
In case you didn’t realize that I had this thought pattern from older posts, I just thought I should let you know. Because I am about to go off on a pretty specific aspect of the latest cinematic iteration of Robin Hood Hollywood is offering. You know. The one that’s out right now, with Russell Crowe and Cate Blanchett. Yeah.
Here’s the thing: this movie is dumb. I don’t even know if I can confidently say that this movie ever even had the potential to be good. I mean, you take a story that’s been done many times over on film and you pretty much give us the exact same thing with different actors. I think there was one moment of suspense in the whole thing. One. And the fight scenes. The endless and repetitive fight scenes. Please stop.
But even if you set aside the unoriginality of the most recent Robin Hood—which I grant that you could, if you’re a huge fan of the mythology and you’re really into seeing “the olden days” reconstructed with a big budget—even then. Even. Then. You can’t ignore the annoyance of the treatment of the character of Marion Loxley, played by Cate Blanchett.
She starts out as this ridiculously capable woman who runs a whole town for ten years during her husband’s absence. She manages the household, she runs off thieves, she fights for the townpeoples’ rights, etc. Basically she performs the roles of Lord and Lady of the Manor simultaneously and effectively, albeit not without struggle. Great. This is good.
But then guess what happens. Russell Crowe shows up and through some silly and contrived arrangement gets to pretend that Marion is his wife. All of a sudden it’s “Wife, get me this” “Wife, show me the village so I don’t look like an idiot” and “Wife, ask me nicely.” So she swoons. She swoons. After approximately three days of knowing each other, they’re exchanging dramatic ‘I love you’s and slow dancing prom style to some Medieval band. Apparently for no other reason than that Robin Hood put her in her place. Awesome.
And that’s not all. The filmmakers have the audacity to have Marion follow Robin into battle, predictably striving to do some heroics while actually just messing everything up because of her unsurprising ineptitude at hand to hand combat. Guess who saves her. I’m lucky my eyes didn’t get stuck rolling so far back into my head at this particular scene.
But do you know what? I’m not even mad about Robin Hood. I think we all could have predicted that this was the type of female “heroine” that we’d be offered in this type of movie. Plus, historically, this version of Marion would probably have been burned at the stake for her extremely progressive attitude. So I guess this is progress.
What I’m really mad about is the recent news that they’re planning on remaking The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo with Hollywood actors. As in (probably) a more conventional leading lady, a more palatable storyline, and less grittiness. (They’re also planning on re-doing the recent awesome movie Let the Right One In, but that’s fodder for a whole other angry essay.)
Anyway, this “leave the Swedes alone” moment isn’t an entirely unrelated tangent. Because the fact that Western mass media markets actually prefer Blanchett’s performance of the acceptable version of a the life and romance of a “strong woman” over something like the remarkably different and varied versions of femininity, feminism, sexuality, sex, gender, etc that world has to offer… That’s what really bothers me.
Seriously, it’s 2010, and we’re still all buying into the whole “she couldn’t do it without a strong man” crap? How is this still even a thing? I’m so tired of it. I swear to God I’d pay $100 a ticket if Hollywood was to produce a movie that in any way took a risk when it came to how it handled its female characters.
Am I the only one?
30 March 2010
Hot Tub Time Machine (2010)
Just the right amount of self consciousness and self-mockery, a slew of awesome one-liners, and good comedic use of the hilariously exaggerated eighties motif more than make up for the predictability of the plot, the occasional use of clichéd pratfalls and some neglected loose ends.
Hugely entertaining through and through. Unless you hate the eighties and having fun. Then you’re out of luck.
Hugely entertaining through and through. Unless you hate the eighties and having fun. Then you’re out of luck.
15 March 2010
Alice in Wonderland (2010)
Liked:
- All the wonderful colors
- Female protagonist with no romantic imperative
- Subtle (inappropriately?) dark moments
- Outrageous grotesquerie
- The costumes, especially Alice's
- The March Hare
- The pleasant demeanor of the Cheshire Cat
- Johnny Depp's switching accents
- Anne Hathaway's gagging
Did not like:
- The use (perhaps the misuse of or the lack of use of) of 3D in the 3D version (I think 2D was better)
- The futterwhacking dance
- The lame music that went along with the futterwhacking dance
- The overall mellow vibe (would have preferred a bit more crazy of a pace for such a mad story world)
Overall I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed this most recent version of Alice in Wonderland. Much serendipity came from the details and not the overall story. From The Cheshire Cat "breading" when he lands on Hatter's hat in the prison cell to the subtle yet impossible stretching of the Knave's arms and legs, I found details throughout this film that made me happy to be paying attention.
Also, I was so so pleased that the fantasy of the story turned out to be traveling to a place where you can figure out the answers to your most crucial, puzzling life questions on your own, instead of a fantasy where morals are handed to you neatly by a prince in shining armor or are revealed by a convenient metaphor mirroring your own predicament.
Definitely worth watching.
- All the wonderful colors
- Female protagonist with no romantic imperative
- Subtle (inappropriately?) dark moments
- Outrageous grotesquerie
- The costumes, especially Alice's
- The March Hare
- The pleasant demeanor of the Cheshire Cat
- Johnny Depp's switching accents
- Anne Hathaway's gagging
Did not like:
- The use (perhaps the misuse of or the lack of use of) of 3D in the 3D version (I think 2D was better)
- The futterwhacking dance
- The lame music that went along with the futterwhacking dance
- The overall mellow vibe (would have preferred a bit more crazy of a pace for such a mad story world)
Overall I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed this most recent version of Alice in Wonderland. Much serendipity came from the details and not the overall story. From The Cheshire Cat "breading" when he lands on Hatter's hat in the prison cell to the subtle yet impossible stretching of the Knave's arms and legs, I found details throughout this film that made me happy to be paying attention.
Also, I was so so pleased that the fantasy of the story turned out to be traveling to a place where you can figure out the answers to your most crucial, puzzling life questions on your own, instead of a fantasy where morals are handed to you neatly by a prince in shining armor or are revealed by a convenient metaphor mirroring your own predicament.
Definitely worth watching.
10 January 2010
The Tin Drum (Die Blechtrommel) (1979)
So here’s something unusual: it seems I have writer’s block. That is why there has been a bit of a lag in my usual regular posting. Every time I sit down to write I end up averting my eyes from Word and lamely clicking around on the internet. To be fair, there has been some hugely amusing stuff out there lately, but nothing so interesting as to justify me becoming unable to casually barf out some snark about film and post it without actually editing, as I usually do.
Maybe this aversion to writing is a result of the movie I have been trying to write about, which was so odd I’m not even sure there’s any point in trying to describe it. I watched The Tin Drum, as far as I can gather is pretty much an essay in uncomfortable situations. The story is about a three year old boy in WWI-WWII era Germany who decides not to grow up. However, not growing up doesn’t stop him from having sex with people, being hell bent on destroying various precious objects, and being generally depraved no matter what the situation.
I actually really admired The Tin Drum for its sheer audacity in presenting these explicit situations of violence, abjection, and sexuality candidly. I also was extremely impressed by Angela Winkler’s performance as the mother of the weird-o perpetual toddler. I think the scenes when she goes blank and shoves preserved fish in her mouth are brilliant.
The main issue that I take with the film is that I couldn’t really figure out what the whole thing was supposed to mean. A lot of the time when you have an unusual or fantasy-ish storyline and it’s historically located in a really specific iconic period it means that the storytellers behind it are trying to construct some sort of metaphor that relates to an overarching moral or theme. For the life of me I could not figure out what the hell this bizarro tale was supposed to be saying.
Despite my own intellectual failings I still enjoyed the movie overall. A definite recommendation for anyone who likes to indulge in the darker side of cinema, with the added bonus of getting to watch the forest fairy named Gump from Legend (1985) get busy with his sixteen year old nanny.
Up Next:
Up in the Air
Maybe this aversion to writing is a result of the movie I have been trying to write about, which was so odd I’m not even sure there’s any point in trying to describe it. I watched The Tin Drum, as far as I can gather is pretty much an essay in uncomfortable situations. The story is about a three year old boy in WWI-WWII era Germany who decides not to grow up. However, not growing up doesn’t stop him from having sex with people, being hell bent on destroying various precious objects, and being generally depraved no matter what the situation.
I actually really admired The Tin Drum for its sheer audacity in presenting these explicit situations of violence, abjection, and sexuality candidly. I also was extremely impressed by Angela Winkler’s performance as the mother of the weird-o perpetual toddler. I think the scenes when she goes blank and shoves preserved fish in her mouth are brilliant.
The main issue that I take with the film is that I couldn’t really figure out what the whole thing was supposed to mean. A lot of the time when you have an unusual or fantasy-ish storyline and it’s historically located in a really specific iconic period it means that the storytellers behind it are trying to construct some sort of metaphor that relates to an overarching moral or theme. For the life of me I could not figure out what the hell this bizarro tale was supposed to be saying.
Despite my own intellectual failings I still enjoyed the movie overall. A definite recommendation for anyone who likes to indulge in the darker side of cinema, with the added bonus of getting to watch the forest fairy named Gump from Legend (1985) get busy with his sixteen year old nanny.
Up Next:
Up in the Air
20 December 2009
Invictus (2009)
Invictus consisted of Morgan Freeman in his role as Nelson Mandela essentially delivering an endless series of brief yet somehow monumental speeches, the result of which was bringing post-Apartheid South Africa together using rugby. Apparently the quality of his delivery of these speeches designates him as “a great actor.” I do not concur with this assessment, but let’s keep in mind that I’m a cynical and whiney complainer when it comes going along with an assessment of anything as “good,” whether it be acting, plot, or dialogue, unless the criteria used for evaluation happen to miraculously align with my own personal worldview and taste.
The biggest problems with this movie were that it had boring pacing and that it turned a suspiciously blind eye to depicting the hideousness of the South African Apartheid that the real Mandela was striving to overcome. The biggest strengths were that Invictus had an interesting topic, feel-good morals, and OK acting.
Basically: Politics ‘Lite’ with a nice soundtrack.
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Up next: Avatar!
The biggest problems with this movie were that it had boring pacing and that it turned a suspiciously blind eye to depicting the hideousness of the South African Apartheid that the real Mandela was striving to overcome. The biggest strengths were that Invictus had an interesting topic, feel-good morals, and OK acting.
Basically: Politics ‘Lite’ with a nice soundtrack.
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Up next: Avatar!
13 December 2009
Into the Wild (2007)
I had the feeling that I really ought to like this movie, but somehow I just couldn’t. The problem is that I know Into the Wild means a lot to a number of people, including people I am close to. I think this appeal stems from the fact that the ideals expressed by the main character, Alexander Supertramp/Chris McCandless, namely giving up connections to money and possessions in favor of relying solely on oneself for strength and knowledge, are ideals that a lot of people (including me) have felt in one form or another over the course of their lives. I don’t think there is anything wrong with becoming frustrated by all the material responsibilities one faces as an adult, and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with feeling disillusioned by hypocritical people, especially parents, which is another theme in the movie.
But my complete disappointment with the film lies not with its spoken ideals and themes, but rather with the delivery and presentation of said themes. From the very beginning I felt like the whole thing was very, very pretentious. There were too many long quotes from Thoreau, ponderous and badly done narration from Jena Malone (as the main character’s sister), and landscapes, landscapes, landscapes. It rang very hollow for me and I ended up irritated and bored by the end of it, just wanting it to be over because I got the point already.
It is not as though I thought there was no value to the movie at all. The scene when the old man asks to adopt Alexander was particularly poignant and well done. I liked the soundtrack, and I liked Vince Vaughn’s character even though I wasn’t entirely clear on the details of what he was actually doing. The scene with the dead moose was appropriately gruesome, and the random Swedish couple from the river were hugely amusing.
I guess at the end of the day I just could not buy into the mentality that Alexander Supertramp was actually doing something noble or valuable, and I was confused as to whether the movie was condoning his behavior or condemning it. A big part of the film was about showing how much his absence negatively affected his loved ones, but for me that aspect got overshadowed by the big ideas supposedly justifying the young man’s journey and behavior.
It seems I am left just as unable to articulate my thoughts regarding breaking away from everything and leaving civilization behind as the movie itself seemed to be. Perhaps I should want that kind of independence, but should know that I can’t realistically have it? Or is it that I could have that type of experience, but shouldn’t want it?
Difficult things to think about, and unfortunately delivered by Into the Wild in a rather clunky fashion.
But my complete disappointment with the film lies not with its spoken ideals and themes, but rather with the delivery and presentation of said themes. From the very beginning I felt like the whole thing was very, very pretentious. There were too many long quotes from Thoreau, ponderous and badly done narration from Jena Malone (as the main character’s sister), and landscapes, landscapes, landscapes. It rang very hollow for me and I ended up irritated and bored by the end of it, just wanting it to be over because I got the point already.
It is not as though I thought there was no value to the movie at all. The scene when the old man asks to adopt Alexander was particularly poignant and well done. I liked the soundtrack, and I liked Vince Vaughn’s character even though I wasn’t entirely clear on the details of what he was actually doing. The scene with the dead moose was appropriately gruesome, and the random Swedish couple from the river were hugely amusing.
I guess at the end of the day I just could not buy into the mentality that Alexander Supertramp was actually doing something noble or valuable, and I was confused as to whether the movie was condoning his behavior or condemning it. A big part of the film was about showing how much his absence negatively affected his loved ones, but for me that aspect got overshadowed by the big ideas supposedly justifying the young man’s journey and behavior.
It seems I am left just as unable to articulate my thoughts regarding breaking away from everything and leaving civilization behind as the movie itself seemed to be. Perhaps I should want that kind of independence, but should know that I can’t realistically have it? Or is it that I could have that type of experience, but shouldn’t want it?
Difficult things to think about, and unfortunately delivered by Into the Wild in a rather clunky fashion.
20 November 2009
Coco before Chanel (2009)
This quiet biopic about Gabrielle “Coco” Chanel before she got famous is pleasant enough to watch but ultimately forgettable once you walk out of the theater.
It’s not that the acting or the plot is lackluster. On the contrary, it is quite engaging to see how Chanel goes from rags to riches by sheer force of will. Audrey Tautou artfully shows us just what kind of character is needed in order for Chanel to succeed, especially in light of the considerable obstacles with which an orphaned woman in turn of the century France was faced.
I think for me the problem was that the film did have some emotional content, showing Chanel in complicated romantic situations with a variety of men, but that somehow at the end of the day we could still only look on Chanel’s story from the outside. It was as though we had been invited to look through a window at her life, but never quite got invited inside to join in.
Perhaps this keeping the audience at arm’s length was the point; Chanel is repeatedly characterized as independent to the degree of aloofness throughout the film. However, this coldness had the effect of creating a certain degree of indifference in me toward Chanel—at the end of the film I didn’t really feel anything at all.
It’s not that the acting or the plot is lackluster. On the contrary, it is quite engaging to see how Chanel goes from rags to riches by sheer force of will. Audrey Tautou artfully shows us just what kind of character is needed in order for Chanel to succeed, especially in light of the considerable obstacles with which an orphaned woman in turn of the century France was faced.
I think for me the problem was that the film did have some emotional content, showing Chanel in complicated romantic situations with a variety of men, but that somehow at the end of the day we could still only look on Chanel’s story from the outside. It was as though we had been invited to look through a window at her life, but never quite got invited inside to join in.
Perhaps this keeping the audience at arm’s length was the point; Chanel is repeatedly characterized as independent to the degree of aloofness throughout the film. However, this coldness had the effect of creating a certain degree of indifference in me toward Chanel—at the end of the film I didn’t really feel anything at all.
18 November 2009
Pirate Radio (2009)
In the 1960s, BBC radio didn’t play rock music. So a bunch of dudes got on a boat and broadcast what everyone was secretly listening to anyway!
This movie is pretty entertaining, as ‘based on a true story’ movies go. Lots of talent is involved and there are plenty of laughs. The filmmakers keep it lighthearted, even when terrible things are happening. Very tongue in cheek, very fun. Makes the ‘60s look like the most awesome time ever. Excellent soundtrack, of course.
You probably don’t need to shell out to see it in theaters, though. It will make you just as happy as a rental.
This movie is pretty entertaining, as ‘based on a true story’ movies go. Lots of talent is involved and there are plenty of laughs. The filmmakers keep it lighthearted, even when terrible things are happening. Very tongue in cheek, very fun. Makes the ‘60s look like the most awesome time ever. Excellent soundtrack, of course.
You probably don’t need to shell out to see it in theaters, though. It will make you just as happy as a rental.
11 November 2009
The Beaches of Agnes (Les plages d'Agnes) (2008)
This film is a remarkable reflection by filmmaker Agnes Varda on her life, both personal and professional.
The Beaches of Agnes is visually complex to an impressive degree—Varda layers images from previous films over reenactments of events from her childhood, relayed through mirrors and frames, filtered through even more layers of images, sometimes with commentary from a cartoon cat said to represent the voice of a famous filmmaker of the French New Wave, of which Varda was a part. A mixture of whimsical and tragic, strange and yet strikingly familiar, none of the imagery or commentary can be said to operate around a central theme. Except perhaps the tricky tendencies of memory.
Events and images overlap, temporality is unclear, symbols and metaphors recur but their meanings shift and change. Varda herself provides fewer answers than questions; she makes no pretense of guiding the viewer on a tour of her career or her life, but rather works through her musings on life on her own time. What she shares with us is not a neat autobiography, but rather a collage of the thoughts that might cross through her mind when she thinks back on where she’s been.
What this all amounts to is a movie that requires thought, through and through. Should you choose to spend your time contemplating Varda’s, you may come away feeling lost, puzzled, or perplexed.
This film also, on some level, requires knowledge of Varda’s work—a oeuvre of which a sadly small number of people have knowledge. If you are interested in checking out her movies, which I highly suggest, skim her imdb profile for releases that interest you. Her Cleo from 5 to 7 made it onto my top ten list a while back, but she has many other gems to offer. Some are available on Netflix, and more are coming soon thanks to the Criterion Collection’s recent-ish release of a box set of her films.
Even if you haven’t seen her movies, I think you should still check this one out at your local art house theater, or at least snag it when it comes to DVD.
A truly rare, sincere intervention into memory, film, and life.
The Beaches of Agnes is visually complex to an impressive degree—Varda layers images from previous films over reenactments of events from her childhood, relayed through mirrors and frames, filtered through even more layers of images, sometimes with commentary from a cartoon cat said to represent the voice of a famous filmmaker of the French New Wave, of which Varda was a part. A mixture of whimsical and tragic, strange and yet strikingly familiar, none of the imagery or commentary can be said to operate around a central theme. Except perhaps the tricky tendencies of memory.
Events and images overlap, temporality is unclear, symbols and metaphors recur but their meanings shift and change. Varda herself provides fewer answers than questions; she makes no pretense of guiding the viewer on a tour of her career or her life, but rather works through her musings on life on her own time. What she shares with us is not a neat autobiography, but rather a collage of the thoughts that might cross through her mind when she thinks back on where she’s been.
What this all amounts to is a movie that requires thought, through and through. Should you choose to spend your time contemplating Varda’s, you may come away feeling lost, puzzled, or perplexed.
This film also, on some level, requires knowledge of Varda’s work—a oeuvre of which a sadly small number of people have knowledge. If you are interested in checking out her movies, which I highly suggest, skim her imdb profile for releases that interest you. Her Cleo from 5 to 7 made it onto my top ten list a while back, but she has many other gems to offer. Some are available on Netflix, and more are coming soon thanks to the Criterion Collection’s recent-ish release of a box set of her films.
Even if you haven’t seen her movies, I think you should still check this one out at your local art house theater, or at least snag it when it comes to DVD.
A truly rare, sincere intervention into memory, film, and life.
04 October 2009
Greenfingers (2000)
Sound improbably cheesy? Like something that would never happen in real life? Too full of gardening puns for you taste? Well here’s the real surprise—this movie is based on a true story.
Even though it’s unlikely you’ve heard anything about it outside of this blog, you should be at least mildly interested in seeing this movie. Though it is admittedly a very sunny, perhaps simplistic, view of what criminals in Britain can and do go through during their stay in prison, this pleasant patch of inspirational fluff is just the ticket for helping you believe that even the worst situations in life can be made better. Also, Clive Owen plays the lead role with Helen Mirren for backup. AND! As if that weren’t enough to entice you to click “Add to Queue”, consider that you'll also get the added bonus of dry humor and lovely garden settings!
A cheerful pick-me-up for any moviegoer who wants a break from the horrors of the evening news but without committing to a fully fledged trip into fantasyland.
29 September 2009
Bright Star (2009)
Jane Campion, director of The Piano (1993), has a keen eye for detail in this patient period piece. From the macro shots of the hand stitching to which Ms. Brawne dedicates herself, to the script of Mr. Keats’s love letters, and even in the sad, dark portraits of sickrooms and poverty that punctuate the film we are treated with carefully, beautifully and thoughtfully composed images and a tasteful soundtrack. Period pieces are usually focused on costuming and setting, but here Campion’s efforts shine as something truly special.
As for the story content of the film, I have to say I took the whole thing very personally. Based on historical happenings, the film isn’t about building suspense and action. It is about getting to know characters, feeling how they felt, and knowing what it meant to be them on some level. Excellent acting, real dialogue.
It should be made clear, however, that this movie was far more centered on Fanny Brawne than it was on Keats (which, if you know Campion’s work, is not a huge surprise). We see the story unfold through her eyes and we get many more insights into her emotions than those of the often absent Mr. Keats. That’s not really a weak point of the movie, but you should be aware of that fact so you don’t go to see it thinking you’re going to get to know John Keats.
24 September 2009
The Informant! (2009)
Summary:
The story centers on a guy named Mark Whitaker, an informant employed by the US government in the 1990s to gather information on agricultural giant ADM (it happened in real life!). Though the investigation is initiated by the FBI to look into allegations of price fixing in the industry, Whitaker’s own machinations come out of the woodwork over the course of the story, eventually causing his elaborately and expensively constructed life to fall to pieces.
The story centers on a guy named Mark Whitaker, an informant employed by the US government in the 1990s to gather information on agricultural giant ADM (it happened in real life!). Though the investigation is initiated by the FBI to look into allegations of price fixing in the industry, Whitaker’s own machinations come out of the woodwork over the course of the story, eventually causing his elaborately and expensively constructed life to fall to pieces.
The Good:
First of all, no one can claim that the acting was not up to par in this movie. However, walking into the theater I was skeptical. All I knew about the movie was gleaned from hearsay which excitedly advertised Matt Damon’s thirty pound weight gain, apparently a guarantee of a great performance. While I remain unconvinced that Damon’s extra heft lent any additional credibility to his role as Mark Whitaker, I do have to say that I sat through the movie thinking, “Mark Whitaker was a real asshole” and not “Matt Damon is a real asshole for playing this guy.” So kudos to you, Matt. I totally believed you were him, which is the whole point of your job.
Additionally I loved the quirky voice-overs when Whitaker details his random thoughts and daydreams, because random silly bits of character interiority thrown into movies on serious topics make me feel like maybe other people are starting to understand the value of frivolous silliness.
Performances from Scott Bakula (as the very normal FBI agent Brian Shepard) and Melanie Lynskey (as Whitaker’s dedicated wife Ginger) were excellent as well, both as their own characters and interaction with Damon’s Whitaker. Have you ever watched a movie where one performance so outshone the others that it made it seem like otherwise good actors were hacks? (Think The Dark Knight (2008), where Heath Ledger’s performance made Aaron Eckhart’s look like child’s play). Definitely not the case here. The whole cast pulled their weight in this film through and through.
The Bad:
Despite the excellent acting by all parties involved, something was definitely off. I felt as though I wasn’t really being encouraged to identify with any character. Whitaker is shown to be a confused sociopathic individual who is completely untrustworthy to the extreme. But we are not asked to take the side of the FBI either. Nor ADM. Nor even Whitaker’s wife, a sad figure who may be the one person throughout the piece with clear cut values. I’m the kind of person who has to be able to emotionally invest in a movie on some level. If I can’t even find a character where I can think to myself “I know how you feel”, I unfortunately have to file the movie under kind of pointless. At least for me.
Equally troubling as the just-not-quite-working-ness on the emotional investment side was the blaring and oddly selected musical score. I think there was supposed to be a point to it, but I think it too missed the mark. Marvin Hamlisch, composer/writer of the famous musical A Chorus Line wrote it and it definitely shows in terms of style. I think maybe they were going for satire with the jazzy and at times too loud musical interludes, but to me it was just distracting, and didn’t really work to any specific effect.
On the nitpicky side, I also really did not understand the random 1970s style lettering. This movie was about events that took place during the 1990s. What’s with the bizarre font?
Overall:
My overall impression of this movie was that it had the potential to be really great, but somehow and somewhere missed the mark. Not so severely, however, that I think it was total crap. If you like movies with good acting and aren’t up for something that will make you feel a bunch of feelings while you watch it, go for it. Just be prepared to walk out and say “What’s next?”
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