Vîdêo et Conversîo

Inglourious Basterds? Yes.

2009-09-17T18:59:00.001-07:00

Well, I saw it. And I laughed. And I really enjoyed myself.

I mean, what could possibly be more pleasing than taking in a film that crosses more genres than Big Trouble in Little China? What makes you laugh more than seeing HUGO STIGLITZ bursting in Blaxplotation brilliance? What is more incredible than hearing the haunting tones of Ennio Morricone in the midst of war-torn, German-occupied France? What could be more wonderful than seeing a man bash in another man’ skull with a bat? What could be more awesome than watching a bunch of Jewish-Americans make sure those disgusting Nazi’s get what they deserve? What could be more incredible…

You see where I’m going.

Okay, Tarantino is an incredible filmmaker. And I think that this movie shows his gifts. The humor is subtle yet hysterical. The mixing of genres stirs my soul - I understand that impulse, I love it. It was perfectly acted. Really. And honestly, who can deny a film that blatantly changes history? Brilliant.

But the problem with the movie is that it stands overagainst everything that I stand for. Perhaps it is just a movie. Perhaps it is just a setting for Tarantino to explore the movies that he loved growing up. Perhaps it is just a good story about how he might want to imagine that WWII should have ended.

But I guess that is, for me, no excuse. Because nothing is just an anything, and this certainly is not just a movie. It represents all of the glorified nationalism that America has felt at least since the turn of the century, and the glorified nationalism that still wants to make its enemies un-human. It glorifies violence (even if it is the outrageous Tarantino type violence) not only as cool, or romantic, but as the appropriate response to the destructive impulses of others. And it happens at just the right season for Americans – to transfer so easily unto the beastly enemies we face now: those who hate us for our freedoms. It gives us a posture to keep having toward our enemies, and just the right kind of heroes to hope for.

Now, we might say that Tarantino is intending this very overdramatized nonsense to actually act as critique. Or we could say that the outrageousness of the violence makes for showing the evil and roughness and awkwardness of it all. But I don’t think so. I think we’re supposed to laugh when Aldo the Apache demands his scalps. I think we supposed to cringe when the Bear beats the living shit out that German’s head, but we’re also supposed to awe at the raw American power, because that’s what happens when you mess with us. I think we’re supposed to sigh satisfaction when we blow the theatre, and when Hitler’s face is made mush by pounding of our bullets. And I think we’re supposed to agree with Tarantino – that’s the way it should’ve all ended. That’s how we should’ve ended it.

I could be wrong in my assessment of Tarantino’s intentions. But if I’m not, then I don’t agree. And what bothers me the most is that, though I sensed this disapproval not ten minutes into the film, I did laugh. I was awed, and I was satisfied. Whatever Tarantino grabbed with his inglourious art was deep inside of me. And that’s what scares me.

District 9 -- The Most Original Sci-Fi in Years?

2009-08-17T07:23:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I've taken it upon myself to bring this blog back to the land of the living. Will Alex follow suit? Stay tuned to find out.

I don't normally go see a movie during its opening weekend. The size of the crowds normally makes it a bad theater-going experience for me. I'm more of a late-matinee-Tuesday-afternoon sort of guy, when there's only a handful of people in the theater. But, occasionally, I'll make an exception to the rule.

The buzz on District 9 was that it was the most original science fiction film in years. People were comparing it to Blade Runner. It had, at one point, a Metacritic score over 90 (which is more impressive than a Rotten Tomatoes score that high, since Metacritic factors in how much each critic liked the film). So, I threw caution to the wind, and decided to brave the crowds.

While I was excited to see the film, I didn't know a lot about it. I hadn't seen a trailer, hadn't heard a plot synopsis other than "there's a bunch of aliens living on earth." And that, actually, led more to my excitement. It had been a long time since I had gone to the theater to see a film when I didn't know that much about it. Combined with its very positive reviews, I figured that this would be a great way to spend my Saturday afternoon.

I began to get a bit concerned when they started the previews. A teaser-trailer for Saw XXXVII was first up, followed by a series of random slasher films (there were about six of them, but the only two I remember were the Megan Fox-is-a-demon movie and rip-off-of-Shaun of the Dead-with-Woody Harrelson). Since movie studios generally show trailers to films that are sort-of, kind-of like the feature, figuring that if you like the feature film, you'll also want to plop down $9 for these other 7 movies, I got a little worried. If these are the films they're marketing at District 9, what does that say about the movie? My fears lightened the moment I remembered that film execs are generally money-grubbing, shoot-for-the-lowest-denominator morons. Maybe they were so perplexed by the originality of District 9 that they didn't know what to show for previews. Maybe they were like, "Well, this is sort of an action movie, let's show a bunch of trailers with action," and didn't think any more about it. That's certainly possible, I said to myself, as the movie began.

If you haven't heard the set-up for then film, here it is in a nut shell: over 1 million aliens (given the slur "prawns") have landed over Johannesburg, South Africa. It's not clear why they have landed here. They are malnourished and in danger of starvation, so the humans have taken them into the city and set up a refugee camp for them, where they live for 20 years. Because of the inevitable tension that evolves between the alien refugees and the locals, the multi-national corporation which oversees the whole project wants to move them to "District 10," a concentration camp further away from the city.

That's all explained in the first 15 minutes of the movie in the style of a documentary, using "interviews" with scientists and other key players, together with news reel-type footage of the "mother ship" and the refugee camp. And as the action begins, that documentary flavor is kept up through the use of hand-held cameras, as you follow the main character through the camp, informing the "prawns" that they are being moved to a new site

But then a subtle switch happens -- the documentary style is abandoned for more conventional action-movie style camera work. While we're following the main character Wikus around the slum, we cut to a scene inside one of the shacks (how did the camera get here, we should wonder) -- and we've left the faux-documentary behind, only to pick it up again from time to time.

From the end of the 1st act on out it's pretty paint-by-the-numbers alien action movie, we get all the greatest hits:

A MacGuffin "device" -- the one thing everybody's looking for and will kill to get it.

The evil corporate overlord with his legions of mercenaries (complete with the leader who just won't die).

A "third party" (a group of Nigerians) who always show up at just the right time to make things even more complicated.

An "idiot plot point" -- where the audience must assume that one of the main characters is a complete idiot in order for the plot to work. For those that have seen the movie, it's right after the "device" is completed, and where they decide to hide it. I'm thinking maybe "underneath" would have been the option any sane intelligent life form would have chosen.

An odd pairing of 2 characters, with completely different motivations, coming together in the final 3rd act (with a downright awful final exchange -- which you see coming from a light year away).

A devolving of the dialogue in the final shoot-em-up scene to mere profanities (seriously, we're on a Tarantino-type level of use of profanity here).

And, finally, a not-too-subtle set-up for the inevitable sequel (I'm starting to make plans to avoid District 10 in August 2011).

The set-up was original. As one reviewer put it, the movie is less about what the aliens will do to us, and more about what we do to the aliens. And that's relatively fresh territory for science fiction -- as well as a place for real cultural analysis. And that's why I'm ultimately disappointed in District 9. The set-up and the style had real potential to make a substantial observation about race relations and the treatment of refugees/undocumented "aliens" (even though setting the film in South Africa was a bit too on-the-nose for me). But, in the end, it wasted that opportunity -- choosing instead to be just your average run-of-the-mill Die Hard + Alien. And that's why I'm ultimately disappointed in the film -- it didn't in any way live up to the hype.

For those who you who only read reviews for the final "tally" (i.e. stars), I can't do that for you. But here's what I can do: tell you how much money I'd spend to see the film without feeling disappointed. For me, the action and CGI (which is quite impressive), merit spending $7 on a matinee theater showing, as long as you know what you're going to get (standard action film). I wouldn't rent or buy it, as it wouldn't play nearly as well on a small screen.

Movie Advice of the Month: For the Ladies in the Audience. . .

2008-10-17T07:29:00.000-07:00

Alex and I have decided to swap monthly features – he’ll select this month’s recipient of the “Clinty,” and I will offer the life lessons we wouldn’t realize but for the movies.

Here’s one for all the ladies that stop by the site from time to time (we know you’re out there – don’t try and deny it). Where would our relationships be without the movies? (I’m using “our” in the universal sense, of course) It’s so hard for men and women to understand one another, and that’s why the movies perform such an important public service. And, why it’s vital that we do exactly what they tell us to do.

So, ladies, here’s what the movies tell you to do – dump the guy you’re with. Dump him right now. Here’s why: he hates children, puppies, and your grandmother. On top of that, he’s secretly cheating on you and telling all of his friends. He’s an absolute [jerk], but you can’t see it because you’re so in love and dreaming about your perfect upcoming wedding. After all, he’ll change once you’ve gotten married, right? Don’t all guys eventually mature over time?

But, here’s the good news – your boyfriend/fiance’s best friend is perfect for you. He likes long walks on the beach, candlelit dinners, and opening up to you about his feelings (and, as a side benefit, he's better looking than your current boyfriend). You can talk and talk for hours with him, and even though you’ve never had a clue, he really likes you (lots of guys will have 4-hour-long conversations with women they have no romantic interest in, right?). The problem, of course, is that he’s such a loyal friend and upstanding guy that he wouldn’t dream of damaging his friendship with your idiot of a boyfriend in order to tell you how he really feels. So it’s up to you. Do what’s right. Dump your boyfriend and marry his best friend. It’s probably what your mom did.

Note: Of course, if you've actually gone ahead and gotten married, this doesn't apply to you. We're sure you've made the right decision. Go ahead and dance around the dining room table with all your friends (yes, including the bitter unmarried one) singing along to Abba. You've earned it.

Random Movie Question: Match Director to Film Franchise

2008-10-09T12:38:00.000-07:00

There’s been some interesting news as of late. Some directors have been put to film franchises that I would not have immediately associated. For example, Guillermo del Toro will be directing the adaptation of The Hobbit, with Peter Jackson producing. It’s an interesting choice, because del Toro is such a visually simulating director. If you’ve seen Pan’s Labyrinth or the Hellboy movies, you know what I mean. I can’t wait to see what he does with Smaug.

Then there’s the latest news over the weekend that Kenneth Branaugh is in talks to direct the Thor film in Marvel Comic’s Avenger series (connecting Iron Man, the Incredible Hulk, and Captain America). You may remember Branaugh from HP and the Chamber of Secrets (he played Gilderoy Lockhart) or from the number of Shakespeare’s plays that he’s directed for the big screen, including Hamlet, Henry V (which I need to see), and Much Ado About Nothing (tied as my favorite Shakespearen movie with Ian McKellen’s Richard III). He’s an interesting choice, certainly not one that I would have identified as a “comic book movie” director. Hopefully, he will bring the gravitas that Patrick Stewart and McKellen brought to the X-Men series (at least the first two films in that series).

A couple of weeks ago, “Moriarty” from Ain’t It Cool News gave an intriguing opinion (http://www.aintitcool.com/node/38353) about the next Superman movie. He thought that it would be interesting for the Coen brothers to direct the next movie – putting the ultimate man-without-guile into their O Brother and Hudsucker universe. Now, I don’t know if this is a good idea or not. Moriarty is basing it on a particular Superman story of which I’m not familiar. But that suggestion got me thinking, and that leads to this week’s RMQ:

What director do you think would make an interesting pairing with a particular story or film franchise?

The first thought I had for this was that Alfonso Cuarón would be perfect for Ender’s Game. If you’re not familiar with the story, it’s a sort of combination of Starship Troopers with Lord of the Flies. The main actors are children, and I think that Cuarón has demonstrated (with HP and the Prisoner of Azkaban) that he understands the relational dynamics between children, at least better than any of the other HP directors.

I’d also love to see Martin Scorese’s King Lear as a mob movie (like how Kirosawa brought the story into feudal Japan in Ran). With DeNiro in the title role, it would really be interesting from the perspective of the role of women (Lear’s 3 daughters as mob captains?) in contemporary Italian-American culture. Another Shakespeare film that could be interesting would be Wes Anderson’s As You Like It. There are enough off-beat melancholy characters in the play that it would fit perfectly in Anderson’s universe (Bill Murray as Jacques, the character who gives the “All the world’s a stage” speech, would be great).

What do you think? Should Spielberg direct the WWII-era Captain America origin story? Or Tom Hanks? Or Ron Howard? What about P.T. Anderson directing The Catcher in the Rye, or Charlie Kaufmann/Michel Gondry taking a crack at the oft-failed Don Quixote story? How long will we wait until Craig Brewer (Hustle & Flow) does a James Brown biopic with Eddie Murphy in the lead role?

Throw caution (and studio’s budgets) to the wind and come up with your most interesting pairings.

Counterpoint on Voiceover: Could Shawshank have been even better?

2008-09-29T08:05:00.000-07:00

I come to this debate not to concede but to clarify statements that were made about me in Alex’s last post. Do I hate voiceover? Yes. Do I think that it is inherently sloppy and lazy screenwriting? Absolutely.

Alex states that the importance of voiceover is that it gives perspective. I disagree. The power of cinema (as opposed to live theater) is that the perspective we get comes directly from the characters. We get to see through their eyes. We get to feel what they feel. We get to take part in the action in a very emotional way. When a character (or narrator) breaks the “fourth wall” by speaking directly to the audience, that power is lost. It keeps the audience on the “outside” of the movie. And we lose that visceral connection to the character.

When a character tells us what (s)he is feeling, I stop experiencing the events of the film along the character and the movie becomes a much more objective than subjective experience for me. Great artists don’t attach a paragraph of explanation for their creations. Neither do great songwriters explain their songs in the CD liner notes. The joy for the audience is seeing choices played out of the screen and wondering “why did (s)he do that?” Decalogue: Six is a great example of that. I did not fully grasp the actions of either main character in the story, but the more I thought about it, the more I liked that. The last thing I would want is for one of them to tell me what (s)he was thinking.

Alex and I agree that voiceover for expositional purposes is worse than receiving socks for Christmas. It is, as he says, the essence of “Tell, don’t Show” – which is death to a movie. Imagine, if you will, that the expositional paragraph that begins each of the Star Wars films was not written to be read by the audience, but performed by one of the key characters (or even a narrator) while the audience takes a computer-generated tour of the galaxy.

Are you done shuddering at that possibility? Okay, let’s continue.

Voiceover is not the best way to bring us into a character’s mind. As F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote in his notes regarding the unfinished end of The Last Tycoon, “Action is Character.” Plot is the foundation to film, not dialogue or exposition. And action (driven by choice) is the foundation to character. As one of the reviewers (I think it was Adam) on the Filmspotting podcast said recently, “you don’t play adjectives, you play adverbs.” You don’t tell us that you’re sad, happy, introspective, or awestruck, you speak, walk, and make decisions based on the internal feelings. Telling the audience about the feelings or “lessons learn” [ugh] is a unsatisfying shortcut to that end.

Imagine at the beginning of Rushmore that Max Fischer tells us via voiceover how much he loves Rushmore and how he would stay there forever if he could, and then gives us access to his inner-most thoughts about Miss Cross. Even with Wes Anderson’s clever dialogue, it wouldn’t work near as well as how Anderson tells us about Max. He shows us what Max is like with the quick cuts of the 25 or so extra-curricular activities Max is involved with (along with his brilliant opening scene with Brian Cox), and shows us all we need to know about how he thinks of Miss Cross by saving Latin. Max’s creed (“I think you just gotta find something you love to do, and then do it for the rest of your life. For me it’s going to Rushmore.”) is given in the midst of dialogue. Could you imagine that line opening the movie given by voiceover?

Now, to the examples that Alex gave. I admit I don’t remember the voiceover in most of them. That could be due to: (1) bad short-term memory, or (2) that the voiceovers were utterly forgettable. Whatever the case, there are two films that use voiceover (in very different ways) that I must address, because I love both films (as in “top 20 films of all time” love).

The first is The Shawshank Redemption. This film may have been the beginning of my path down film snobbery (my “gateway drug” if you will). And yet, I have to concede that it’s not perfect. The acting is perfect. The dialogue is perfect. The direction is top notch (the iconic shot of Tim Robbins emerging from the sewer pipe being cleansed by the rain gives me goose bumps just thinking about it). And yet, I have to admit that I still don’t like the voiceover. It keeps me at arms length from the picture; it keeps the film just a little bit on the “cold” side for me. There are some terrific lines delivered by Morgan Freeman via voiceover (“I like to think that the last thing that went through the warden’s head, other than that bullet. . .”), but couldn’t those lines have been given just as well (or even better) in dialogue to another character?

The second is Adaption. Here is where I need to clarify what I mean by voiceover, because I will admit, in this films it just works. The film wouldn’t be near the same without it. But here’s why it works in this film as opposed to many of the others. (1) The film is a spoof of the movie “rules.” The Kaufmann brothers characterize the tension in screen writing between following formulas (the Robert McKee seminar) and true creative thinking. So, the irony is (as Alex noted) that he’s using voiceover in a creative way, not according to the formula. (2) Charlie Kaufmann is not talking to the audience with his voiceover – he’s talking to himself. And that’s an important distinction in the film. Because Kaufmann is a severe introvert, who else does he have to talk to? The focus of the film is completely internal, and therefore the internal dialogue given through voiceover works perfectly.

So, I come to the end of this piece with a clarification of what I mean when I say “voiceover.” When it is used to read a letter for the audience’s sake or for telepathic communication (like Galadriel to Frodo in FOTR), that’s fine. But what harms a film is when voiceover is used to speak directly to the audience. That is what keeps the audience from truly entering “into” the picture, and therefore negates the real visceral power of film.

Voicing about Voiceovers

2008-09-26T11:09:00.000-07:00

Alright, y’all, it’s been a while. For that I apologize. However, I come to you now, in this great hour of need, to appeal to you to help Doug and I settle, insofar as that is even possible, a debate question.

As we settled yesterday to watch Decalogue VI,[1] the question came up about voiceover. It was inspired by a line from the movie Adaptation, where the brilliant Brian Cox portrays screenplay guru Robert McKee.[2] While speaking at his famous story seminar, ripping apart many different film writer faux pas, he quips in a harsh whisper, “And God help you if you use voiceover!” The nature of the disagreement came with my personal disagreement with him. I don’t think it’s true that voiceover is a bad thing. Doug, however (in his steely way), sided with the Adaptation McKee[3] that voiceover is cheap and never a good idea.[4]

I understood a lot of his reasons. It’s overdone, and often when it is done, it is done badly. I concede that completely. Especially when it’s expositional. Relying on voiceover to move the plot (as opposed to the Story itself – and there is a difference) can be a deadly mistake. You use dialogue, actions, scenes of tension; it’s the show-don’t-tell philosophy all over again. In that regard, voiceover can be completely destructive.

However, to say because of that, it is across-the-board weak – well, I can’t agree with that at all. I mean, some movies need voiceover, not for plot, but for story, because it is their perspective that is one of the key forces of the story. In this regard, it is like dialogue; dialogue that is expositional is cheap and boring, and often annoying, because it lacks perspective and interaction. Voiceover that is expositional is the same. But voiceover itself is like dialogue, in its own special way, because the perspective of the narrator is oftentimes the over-arching perspective of the story, and the interaction is of the narrator with the audience itself. Like the first person narrative in books, the narrator is telling us a story from his/her point of view. And when that works, that’s golden.

I think of it like flashbacks, which are like voiceovers in that they are incredibly hard to do well and they provide perspective. The crown jewel example of this would be Rashomon. The movie is almost completely perspectival – even the flashbacks told in the trial are set within the flashbacks of the three characters dialoguing in the film, and the point of the story is how each carries with it the character’s own perspective. Other films that do flashbacks in interesting and powerful ways could include Laura, Citizen Kane, Unbreakable, Enter the Dragon, Darjeeling Limited, The Bourne Ultimatum, and Big Fish. For every one of those films, there are of course one hundred or even a thousand that do flashbacks really badly, and the same could be said for voiceover, but that does not make the devices themselves bad; it makes them tricky, difficult, and risky. But as in many things, those that are tricky, difficult, and risky are often the stuff of the greatest and most powerful achievements, with the greatest payoff. Hell, in Casablanca, the flashbacks are probably the weakest part of the film, but I don’t know if it could’ve worked without it.

And I don’t know if utter gems like What’s Eating Gilbert Grape?, The Shawshank Redemption, Legends of the Fall, V for Vendetta, Juno, or countless others would work without the voiceover. The voiceovers in these stories make the film, because of the perspectives they provide. I can’t imagine trying to adapt a book to film like The Catcher in the Rye without using voiceover, because it’s not just the story, it’s Holden Caulfield’s (somewhat skewed) perspective of the story that is important. The same is true for these other movies. And rather than get rid of these devices, we need to think of new and fresh ways to use them to empower us to continue to make masterpieces.

Of course, it is not secret that the line that sparked this entire debate is from a movie that heavily relies on voiceover. However, I would hold that Adaptation works because of the voiceover, not in spite of it. It is the singular perspective of Charlie Kaufman that makes something quite “uninteresting” (the struggle of the movie itself) quite interesting indeed.

So let us know what you think, and provide examples from either side of the debate.

Voiceover – 5/5

[1] Which, incidentally, was incredibly brilliant. Review forthcoming.

[2] Cox was McKee’s own personal choice for the role, I’m told.

[3] It might be something he really thinks, but as I have never been to his seminar or read his book, I don’t know; the movie is all I have to go on.

[4] Yes, he did say never, I don’t care if he denies it =).

Random Movie Question: Who's Eeeevvviiiiiillllllll?

2008-09-08T10:49:00.001-07:00

For this week's RMQ, we turn our attention to the world of film villainry. The characters we love to hate, whose predestined and glorious deaths cause us joy unspeakable (yes, vengeance is wrong -- but it can still be funny).

And so, here's the question asked solely to encourage participation on the blog: Who is your favorite underrated film villain?

This is an easy one for me. Without a doubt, it's Edward the Longshanks from Braveheart. Yes, I know that Braveheart may not be found on any "underrated" movie lists, but here's why I can claim Edward as underrated -- because none of you would have thought of him. So there.

Besides, Eddie is downright eeevvviilllll. "The problem with Scotland is that it's full of Scots." "If we can't get them out, we'll breed them out."

And this gem of dialogue:
Longshanks: Archers.
English Commander: I beg pardon sire. Won't we hit our own troops ?
Longshanks: Yes... but we'll hit theirs as well. We have reserves. Attack .

And what a comeuppances good ole’ Eddie gets from Sophie Marceau’s Princess Isabella: “Death comes to us all. But before it comes to you, know this: your blood dies with you. A child who is not of your line grows in my belly. Your son will not sit long on the throne. I swear it.” Ouch.

Four Fantastic Documentaries I've Seen This Summer

2008-09-05T20:22:00.000-07:00

Gotta love documentaries. Well, then again, I guess you don’t gotta, but if you don’t, then there is probably something wrong with you. But that is neither here nor there, because if you don’t love documentaries, then you’re probably not reading this. And if you do like documentaries, then you’re probably getting irritated that I have not gone ahead and started the frickin’ post already. *sighs* Alright, on with the show.

Koyaanisqatsi

Well, it’s a classic. The title is a Native American word from the Hopi language meaning "Life out of balance," and the film suggests that that is just what modern living is. When I first began my quest of film snobbery, I watched this film. My friend and fellow contributor said this was like taking the elevator while everyone else was taking the stairs. I mean, as soon as you see the film, you’re instantly cultured. It contains no “script” whatsoever, only a series of videos and pictures which contrast nature to our current lifestyle in the post-Industrial West. It is brilliant and beautiful, and many of the shots are breath-taking. My favorite shot was when they transposed the rows of hotdogs going down an assembly line with a multitude of people going through rows of escalators. It was really wonderful – you just have to see it to appreciate what I’m saying. So for that reason and many others, go watch the film and become disillusioned with our consumerist/industrialists lifestyles which are certainly contrary to Creation. 5/5

For the Bible Tells Me So

A specifically Christian documentary which deals with the issue of GLBT[1] inclusion in the Church. It follows several Christian families as they deal with this issue personally, some who become pro-inclusion and others that remain “conservative.” For the most part, although the documentary is certainly biased towards inclusion, it is fair, and does not misrepresent dissenting views. This is a serious issue in the Church, and I think if anyone wishes to have an opinion on it, they need to openly and honestly deal with the objections and arguments - from several areas – that this documentary raises. 4.3/5

Deliver Us from Evil

This truly upsetting documentary has for its subject Oliver O’Grady, the infamous priest who raped and molested over one hundred children in California while filling the role of priest in several Catholic Churches. It deals very brutally with the horror of O’Grady’s crime, but has in the background a more sinister culprit that worked very hard for the sake of politics and saving face to hide the crimes: the Holy Roman Catholic Church. I love the Church, and hold myself as part of her fold, and that includes without shame my Catholic brothers, from Pope to Priest to “lay” person. However, I was as indignant and sorrowful and ashamed as anyone (especially as a Christian) when this documentary exposed the horrible actions of this Diocese and this priest, then showed the systemic cycle of evil that was happening all over the churches. There are several awful, heart-wrenching scenes that will bring tears to the eyes. 4.9/5

The End of Suburbia

This film tackles the ever-rising issue of the coming energy crisis, centered around our own oil-based economy. It argues cogently that oil depletion is very real, and that the decline of oil production will force the American culture with its mega-consumerism and silly spending like there is no tomorrow to be altered drastically. As our economic changes out of pure necessity (probably bringing with it some dark times), communities (so the film prophesizes) will become localized, centralized (“walkable”), and more self-sufficient. As our oil-based economy all but collapses, prices of all things will skyrocket because of our reliance upon trucks and highways. The local community will become the new economy, and people will become local producers. This is all, of course, a very important issue. However, I came away from the film with a great deal of hope. I think in many ways these predictions sound like a greater humanity, and perhaps the crisis could bring a great deal of good with it. Time will only tell. But regardless, it was a really good film. 4/5

[1] That’s “Gay, Lesbian, Bi-sexual, and Transgendered” for those less informed ;).

Decalogue Five: Thou Shall Not Kill

2008-09-02T13:50:00.000-07:00

"The law should not imitate nature, the law should improve nature.

People invented the law to govern their relationships.

The law determined who we are and how we live. We either observe it, or we break it.

People are free. Their freedom is limited only by the freedom of others.

Punishment means revenge.

In particular when it aims to harm, but it does not prevent crime.

For whom does the law avenge?

In the name of the innocent? Do the innocent make the rules?"

So, I'm writing this review, but I don't want to. I told Alex I would, then I gave it back to him, took it back, gave it back, and finally somewhere along the way it was generally understood that I was writing this review. Here's why I don't want to: (1) it's about the death penalty, so it's a messy subject; (2) it's the most non-linear of the episodes thus far, which might go to the issue that this is a truly messy issue with no easy answers -- this was not an easy episode to watch; (3) with those 2 issues being said, this episode was my favorite so far by far. It's hard to review what you love (see my Wall-E review for confirmation of that).

I am against the death penalty. It's been quite a hard road to come to this position, but I've come to it because the death penalty essentially de-humanizes the criminal. It makes them a non-person, having forfeited all rights. I'm reminded of the ancient practice where the condemned, just before their execution, would have their name erased from the civic registry. It's like they never existed. I just can't see the redemptive aspect there. I know many will argue that being on death row increases the possibility that the criminal will seek redemption with the victim's family and with Christ, but that's simply not justification for denying someone their humanity.

The Krysztof's (Kieślowski and Piesiewicz) are in full agreement here. This is not a balanced look at the death penalty. This is not Dead Man Walking. The state machinery of death is given the same level of scrutiny and condemnation as the punk kid who kills the cabbie. The Watcher even looks on both with indignation (holding a "measuring rod" in one scene -- is this the image of the Law as the "Standard" to measure up to?)

I love that they didn't make the criminal "good at heart," like some contemporary version of Jean Valjean. He's not. He's a punk. He watches in amusement as some fellow hooligans run down and beat up some poor victim. He tosses rocks off of overpasses and watches the ensuing automobile accidents. And, in one bizarre (and downright disgusting) moment, he tosses a young man into a urinal because he came whistling into the restroom. He's one brief step from a sociopath. He doesn't have a reason to kill the cabbie, he does because he can.

He's not good. But he's human. And the state can't deny that. The way they kill is in diametric oppostion to how the kid kills, but that doesn't make it any more justifiable. The kid's strangling of the cabbie takes a long time, and after a number of attempts, and various instruments used, he finally finishes the job. The state's method is quick and clean -- a simple jerk of the neck in a small antiseptic room. They've done this enough to have the procedure down pat. But I'm left wondering at the end of the film if the motivation for the state's killing isn't too far different from the kid. The state kills because it can.

The hero of the film is the young idealistic lawyer. The film opens with his monologue quoted above. He's been asked the question before, and the answer seemed easier then (he doesn't, as I recall, mention if his answer hasn't changed -- as mine would have over the years). He's the hero of the film because he never loses the young man's humanity. What the state says is "justice," he rightly calls "revenge."

When we look at something like capital punishment from a distance, the answers seem clear, the problems look inconsequential. But ethics is not done in a vacuum. We deal with the lives of people, messed-up people who despite the evil that works in them and through them never quite forgo everything that makes them human. Theory is easy; people are hard. One of the key image/metaphors used throughout these series of films is glass. Kieślowski and his DP's (he used a variety of them) are masters of using refractions and reflections. We often look and judge the characters of these films through glass (a glass "darkly"?). Maybe that's the point -- we use our moralism as a way to maintain distance and separation from these people's actual lives. We base our judgment of people based purely on image rather than truth. The truth is: whatever the evil in them, they never cease being what God created.

After Alex and I finished the film, we went back to hear (and copy down) the monologue that begins the film. And after the line, "Do the innocent make the rules," Alex said something like, "Sounds like 'he who is without sin cast the first stone.'" Indeed it does.

The Clint Howard Honorary "That Guy" of the Month Award Goes To. . .

2008-09-02T12:51:00.000-07:00

David Paymer.

Who? [That's what you're supposed to say with one of these -- it's what makes him a "That Guy"].

Here's where you probably know him: the V.U.P. in Ocean's 13. He's the one reviewing Al Pacino's hotel for the coveted Five Diamond Award, and who gets the bedbug treatment and the "Susan B. Anthony" (the huge slot machine jackpot gift) in the end.

[Ah! Now I know where I've seen him before -- that what you're supposed to say now.]

Saw him in David Mamet's Redbelt last night (good flick, interesting character story, little bit of a forced and bit-too-brief denouement -- give it a solid 4 out of 5). Paymer's becoming one of the Mamet Players, with roles also in Spartan and State and Main.

Here's also where you may have seen him: City Slickers, Quiz Show, Get Shorty (played the guy who swindled the airline company insurance when he didn't get on the plane that crashed), The American President, Amistad, and Payback (the one where Mel Gibson plays an anti-hero). So the guy works (there's 132 acting roles listed in his IMDb page). He even received a best supporting actor Oscar nomination for playing Billy Crystal's brother in Mr. Saturday Night (which almost disqualifies him for the "Clinty"). However, he did have a role in Howard the Duck, which I think evens everything out.

However, the true reason to award this month's Clinty to David Paymer is because he must be the only actor in the world to lose an acting gig to Howie Mandel (for "St. Elsewhere"). That must of stung. Here's hoping this month's Clinty will heal those deep and lasting wounds.

The Player: Now More than Ever

2008-08-31T12:57:00.000-07:00

I just got done watching The Player. I had thought it was the first time, and maybe this has happened to you before, but I realized about half way through – “Hey! I’ve seen this movie before!” The first time was in High School, and I remember liking it, but I cannot imagine I understood it enough to appreciate it. A Robert Altman film, it simultaneously pays homage to and satirizes the long tradition of Hollywood movie-making. Just as we might expect from the guy who did Gosford Park, he was a master of laying conversations upon conversations.[1] He also makes use of several movies posters to undergird the storyline, which provide an almost witty commentary to the film’s plot moves.[2] Perhaps most impressively, there is a seven minute shot to open the movie – quite well done – and certainly paying homage to Touch of Evil (Orson Welles) and Rope (Alfred Hitchcock).[3]

The gist of the movie is a “dirt-bag studio exec” (Robbins) who starts getting harassed by a writer he apparently brushed. Postcards are coming, threatening his death. Growing steadily more uneasy by the continued threats as well as rumors that he is soon to lose his job, Robbins attempts to sought out the writer and get him to stop. This turns ugly, and he ends up killing the writer. The thriller ensues. If you want more, go watch the movie.

Now, I want this post to consider a major theme of the movie and then end with a question. As already stated, the film certainly critiques the business angle of Hollywood, making movies with stars and happy endings because that is what makes money, and not caring to represent reality – not caring for art. Over and over in the movie, the writers who wish to make art and commentate on reality are pitted against the studio execs who want to give the public the shallow entertainment they want. This is perfectly exemplified in the scene where Robbins accepts an honor at a party for donating a number of films to the LA museum. There he says something along the lines of: “The media is saying that films are not art, they are entertainment. But they are. Films are art, now more than ever.” But these stirring words are completely contradicted by the shabby shallow ending given to a movie that is developed throughout the film, first intending to end badly and represent reality, then given a blockbuster happy ending complete with witty, BS line. The film will of course, be a success.

My question is, has this changed? This has been a common critique of “Hollywood,”[4] and in the last decade or so (correct me if I’m wrong), we’ve seen the rise of the “Indie Film.” Often these films break the Hollywood conventions and have more gut-wrenching representations and critiques upon reality. Now I don’t mean to imply that it is some kind of shallow generality; Hollywood movies (whatever that even means) can and do represent reality, whereas some Indie films do have the very themes and misrepresentations Hollywood is critiqued for. However, it seems to me that perhaps the semi-recent popularity of the independent productions is because people are aching for the kind of things that are not glossed over, manipulated, or spiced up. They are looking for art that is real, that is almost unapologetic.

What do you think, oh Constant Reader? I invite, of course, any kind of corrections to my thinking – it really is an honest question. You might say, “Oh, Indie films have always been around and you’re wrong,” or “You’re speaking in false generalities,” or “It does not even make sense to talk in these broad categories of ‘Hollywood’ and ‘Indie,’” or all that other good stuff. But it seems like the Indie film has provided both artists and appreciators an arena to enjoy artistic manifestations that are a little more “real” than the common Hollywood pop-archetype. Does the critique of Hollywood in The Player stand true? Are the independent productions filling a void in the film audiences of the American world?

The Player – 3.92-4.6, depending on which aspect of the film we are talking about.

[1] Two things: 1) this is an anachronistic compliment, I know; 2) the scenes at the outside restaurants (the first with Cusack and Houston, the second with Burt Reynolds) are prime examples of this.

[2] My favorite was showing the poster for “M,” then dissolving to a table with a reservation upon it for Mr. “M” – Tim Robbins character is named Griffin Mill.

[3] And interestingly enough, both movies are mentioned during the scene.

[4] And other entertainment industries, such as music, where pop is disdained, and many connoisseurs listen to nothing but underground bands.

The Man Who Laughs (1928)

2008-08-22T16:45:00.000-07:00

The Man Who Laughs is a silent film about the son of an English Lord, Gwynplaine, who is disfigured by a surgeon to punish his father in a political power struggle. The father is then “killed”[1] and the young boy banished. The boy does not make it to the boat, though, and is abandoned in a gallows near port. He finds a blind baby girl in the arms of her dead mother, and takes her with him as he searches for food and shelter from the cold. He is taken in by Ursus the philosopher, who raises him and the blind girl, Dea, and takes them on a circuit as the attraction “The Man Who Laughs.”

Gwynplaine, doomed to be disfigured, looking ever like a grinning clown, draws a great deal of crowd. As they grow up, Gwynplaine and Dea fall in love, but Gwynplaine will not marry Dea until another woman does not laugh at him. “It is not my right,” he says, referring to the fact that she has never seen his face. It is not long in the film before Gwynplaine’s heritage is discovered, and the Queen of England orders him made a peer and husband of a Duchess – a selfish, self-absorbed, and seductive woman. The love conflict ensues.

I had never watched a silent film before, and it was one of the more interesting experiences in my adventures in film. It was an engrossing flick. Much relies on the acting for the story to work without any dialogue, which it does in spades. The acting was without a doubt the most impressive part of the movie. It was only slightly overdone and mostly very believable. But for all the good acting, no one comes close in the film to the performance of Conrad Veidt, who plays Gwynplaine. You may or may not remember him from his role as Major Strasser in Casablanca. Throughout the film, he wears only a hideous grin, and yet despite the deformity, we are able to see an incredible array of emotions through his body language and especially his eyes: joy, sorrow, pain, terror, anger, and much more. He was simply amazing. Perhaps one of the greatest acting performances I have ever seen.

One scene I enjoyed in particular was when the Duchess, who both is attracted to and revolted by Gwynplaine, watches his show with a grimace on her face, and you are unable to understand what she is feeling until she sends her note to Gwynplaine: “I was the woman who did not laugh. Was it pity? Or was it love? My page will come for you at midnight.” We find out, it was both.

It is a good movie, no doubt. I don’t know how well the plot works, but it’s a good story and has its own culture, which comes through strongly in the telling. Based on a novel by Victor Hugo, it well portrays (at least, as far as I know) the differences in class as well as the political games played by the social elite of the 1700’s. There were several moments in the film where I actually laughed out loud. The love story of the film is told exquisitely – I mean perfectly. There is nothing like a tale of star-crossed lovers, and this is no exception. “God closed my eyes so I could see only the real Gwynplaine,” Dea says (whispers, as I imagine it in my mind)[2] to her man, and oh (*sighs*), you just believe her. And of course, as already stated, Veidt performance as the Man Who Laughs is haunting, piercing, and does not leave you quickly. Bob Kane and Bill Finger cited Veidt’s interpretation as the main inspiration for their infamous psychopathic killer the Joker, and it is not a stretch to see why.

[spoiler below - yeah, I don't know how to do Doug's nifty little "highlight to read spoiler" thing]

My one complaint for the film is that I wish it had incorporated Hugo’s original tragic ending, instead of the happy ending that is suddenly tacked on. I think it would have better captured the poignant spirit of the story, but it still works, and is well worth the watch. It is proper to rate such a classic film? I don’t know. Probably only a real jerk would. But since I’m just that kind of jerk, I’ll give a rating – aesthetic and mostly useless. The bottom line is, you should see the film regardless. But anywho…

4.98/5 (I’m still kinda pissed about that switcheroo on the ending)

[1] At least, they stick him in the “Iron Lady,” a metal shell shaped like a body with spikes on the inside, giving him a slow, incomprehensible death.

[2] That is the really interesting thing about silent film – much like a book, the freedom and limitations you are given to interpret the dialogue and acting. I mean, you hear the dialogue in your head; that’s your only option.

Prophetic Visage: Movie Advice of the Month

2008-08-21T09:01:00.000-07:00

Or, "What NOT to Do When Given a Prophetic Message by a Strange, Usually Otherworldly Character concerning Impending Doom or Destruction of You and/or Your Loved Ones."

I've seen it a million times. Guy/Gal runs into some ethereal character or self-proclaimed oracle. Oracle tells him/her about at great tragedy that will befall them sometime in the future. In great anxiety, our character tries in vain to prevent the prophecy, and by their "preventative" actions, actually bring about the fulfillment of the prophecy itself. It's at least as old as Oedipus and Antigone.

So when given some message of negative destiny from some elusive doomsayer, we at Conversio suggest this: do nothing. Just continue on business as usual. Do your best to ignore the prophecy. Just get a cup of coffee, watch a movie, and try to forget the whole thing.

Some things to keep in mind:

1. Never try to kill the guy that is prophesied to destroy you, especially if he is your best friend. Chances are, your actions will begin the process that leads to your destruction.

2. Do not trust the advice of power-hungry, malicious, ambitious wives. This goes not only for prophetic instances, but life in general.

3. Do not trust old, mysterious men who shoot lightning out of their hands to have the ability to undo the prophetic pronouncement. This is a really, really bad idea (though it could lead to having a really cool voice).

If this does not work, and doing nothing does, no pun intended, absolutely nothing to prevent the prophecy, well, please do not blame us for this advice. I mean, it was a fateful prophecy. Hard to compete with that.

______________________________________

By the way, I apologize for the hiatus. School has begun again, and I have been very busy. I have seen several great movies, and hope to update you soon. Until then, peace.

Random Movie Question: Song for End Credits

2008-08-11T08:49:00.000-07:00

At the risk of amplifying an aesthetic debate by combining music with film, here's this week's RMQ:

What is your favorite song for the end credits of a movie?

Lots of great options here. I've learned my lesson from the first RMQ and not suck the oxygen out of the discussion by only offering one opinion here (though there would be lots to choose from):

I love, love , love the use of "Shape of My Heart" by Sting at the end of Leon: The Professional. Great song, and I love the closing shot of Natalie Portman's Mathilda as she puts Leon's plant in the ground. [Highlight to read spoiler]

"That Guy" of the Month

2008-08-06T07:09:00.000-07:00

This new every-once-in-a-while feature will celebrate the unappreciated character actor. You know, "those" guys you spend half the movie thinking, "where have I seen that guy before?" The patron saint of "those guys" is, of course, Clint Howard -- though now that he's won an MTV movie award he has transcended the label.

This month I choose to celebrate Anthony Michael Hall. It's been an interesting journey for Mr. Hall, from Brat Pack performances in 16 Candles, The Breakfast Club, and Weird Science -- he was also the original Rusty in the Vacation movies -- to playing Bill Gates in the TV movie The Pirates of Silicon Valley to a seminal "that guy" performance in The Dark Knight as Mike Engel, the Wayne Enterprises lawyer/accountant who figures out Bruce Wayne's secret and inspires the best line of the movie from Morgan Freeman ". . . and your plan is to blackmail him?"

So here's to you, Anthony Michael Hall. Thanks for giving hope to Judd Nelson, Andrew McCarthy, and Emilio Estevez (outside of Mighty Ducks 4).

UPDATE: Okay, according to the comments section, I have (1) wrongly indentified the part that Mr. Hall (or is it Mr. Michael Hall?) played in The Dark Knight (he played the reporter who broke the accountant's story) and (2) not credited him for a television role he has played for 6 years on the USA network. So, an inauspicious beginning for this feature. In future posts, I pledge to only get one major thing wrong. You have my word.

The Twist in the Tale: Movie Advice of the Month

2008-08-05T19:35:00.000-07:00

I wanted to title the post:

What to Say If Someone Asks You upon Sharing Some Grand Discovery in the Intricate, Dangerous Case You Are Investigating in which Many Clues Have Led through a Trail of Murder and Death If You Have Told Anyone Else about Your Crucial Discovery: Movie Advice of the Month

But apparently that was too long. Anyway...

Okay, so you’ve been in over your head. You’re a simple detective, but the seemingly simple murder has turned into a great big fiasco involving all kinds of local bigwigs. Having made the crucial discovery in the case that will put certain wealthy power-mongers away for good, you share it with your boss/trusted friend/fellow companion/etc.

Then they say something along the lines of: “Have you told anyone else about this?”

If you want to die, the answer is always: “No.” Always. Because when anyone asks you a question like that (especially provided the above context), you can be fairly certain that they are about to kill you.

But if you want to live, say something like: “Yes. In fact, I’ve told lots of people. All kinds of people, even. Really, you wouldn’t believe all the people I’ve told! And I wrote it all in my diary as soon as I discovered it. And I told a whole bunch of people I was coming over here, and I put my diary in a safety deposit box, and told them that if anything happens, to send that to the police. And I told your mom, and your grandmother, and your spouse. I even told the police chief. Really, like, everyone knows at this point except you. You were last on my list of people to tell.” Other variations may be acceptable, but to deviate from this general idea would result in almost certain death, or at the very least, a fantastic gun battle where you will escape but only barely.

You see, the person you trusted the whole time – they are almost surely the mastermind behind it all. At least…oh, nine times out of ten.

And who says movies can’t teach us anything valuable?

Thom's Top 30, Part 3

2008-08-05T13:24:00.000-07:00

Thom's Top 30 (+1) Documentaries (in alphabetical order by title):

The Agronomist
Buena Vista Social Club
Burden of Dreams
The Corporation
Deliver Us from Evil
The Five Obstructions
The Fog of War
For the Bible Tells Me So
Gates of Heaven
Gaza Strip
God's Country
Grizzly Man
Harlan County USA
Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker's Apocalypse
Incident at Oglala
Iraq in Fragments
Jesus Camp
Koyaanisqatsi
Lake of Fire
Lessons of Darkness
Manufacturing Dissent
Soldiers in the Army of God
The Thin Blue Line
This Is What Democracy Looks Like
This So-Called Disaster
A Time for Burning
Tokyo-Ga
The U.S. Versus John Lennon
War Photographer
Wheel of Time
Who Killed the Electric Car?

Thom's Top 30, Part 2

2008-08-05T11:15:00.001-07:00

Thom's Top 30 Criterion Collection Movies

Listed in alphabetical order by director, then, if there is more than one by a given director, in order from most to least favorite:

Secret Honor, Robert Altman
The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, Wes Anderson
Rushmore, Wes Anderson
The Royal Tenenbaums, Wes Anderson
Bottle Rocket, Wes Anderson
The Seventh Seal, Ingmar Bergman
Day of Wrath, Carl Theodor Dreyer
Brazil, Terry Gilliam
Rebecca, Alfred Hitchcock
Down by Law, Jim Jarmusch
Monty Python's Life of Brian, Terry Jones
Kagemusha, Akira Kurosawa
Ikiru, Akira Kurosawa
I Live in Fear, Akira Kurosawa
Stray Dog, Akira Kurosawa
Red Beard, Akira Kurosawa
Throne of Blood, Akira Kurosawa
Sanjuro, Akira Kurosawa
Drunken Angel, Akira Kurosawa
High and Low, Akira Kurosawa
The Bad Sleep Well, Akira Kurosawa
M, Fritz Lang
Brief Encounter, David Lean
Salesman, David and Albert Maysles
Straw Dogs, Sam Peckinpah
The Third Man, Carol Reed
Night and Fog, Alain Resnais
How to Get Ahead in Advertising, Bruce Robinson
The Element of Crime, Lars Von Trier
Ace in the Hole, Billy Wilder

Thom's Top 30

2008-08-05T10:35:00.000-07:00

Thom's Top 30 North American Films from 1980 to the Present

Listed in alphabetical order by director, then chronologically (and if the writer contributes significantly to the style of the film, I'll include his/her name too):

Zelig
Woody Allen

The Darjeeling Limited
Wes Anderson

Smoke
Paul Auster and Wayne Wang

Leon: The Professional
Luc Besson

Miller's Crossing
Joel and Ethan Coen

The Brave
Johnny Depp

The Apostle
Robert Duvall

A Perfect World
Clint Eastwood

Dead Man
Jim Jarmusch

Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai
Jim Jarmusch

Zero Effect
Jake Kasdan

Brother
Takeshi Kitano

I'm Not There
Todd Haynes

House of Games
David Mamet

The Spanish Prisoner
David Mamet

The Indian Runner
Sean Penn

The Crossing Guard
Sean Penn

Twin Falls Idaho
Michael and Mark Polish

Dark City
Alex Proyas

Bob Roberts
Tim Robbins

Joe Versus the Volcano
John Patrick Shanley

Unbreakable
M. Night Shyamalan

Schizopolis
Steven Soderbergh

The Limey
Steven Soderbergh and Lem Dobbs

The Big Kahuna
John Swanbeck

Manderlay
Lars Von Trier

The Truman Show
Peter Weir

Paris, Texas
Wim Wenders and Sam Shepherd

The End of Violence
Wim Wenders

Don't Come Knocking
Wim Wenders and Sam Shepherd

Decalogue II & III: Show, Don't Tell

2008-07-31T12:08:00.000-07:00

Okay, I’m beginning to see why everybody who has seen these films calls them brilliant. Really, the reason is quite simple: it’s because they are frickin’ brilliant. No doubt about it. They are really something special. Just to show all you high-budget punks out there – made-for-TV can be all up in that bizz, yo.

Two things that I find especially amazing about these particular films: the shots and the storytelling. Let me explain.

1. One of my favorite shots of all time is in the movie What’s Eating Gilbert Grape? Those of you who know the movie may remember the scene where he burns the house down. There is a shot as he strikes the match and you see the “Keep Away From Children” warning as the fire flares up – it’s properly scrumtrullescent.[1] Well, in The Decalogue, those kind of shots are almost common. From the I, there was the milk in the tea. In II, there are delicious shots of a cigarette box starting on fire, the water dripping from the ceiling, the wasp struggling in the tea. This last was especially poignant, a perfect representation of the feeling fairly common for humans in the universe. In III, there is that wonderful shot when Ewa leaves her mother’s house and we watch her leave from the window. Several overhead shots such as these give us a strange perspective of the events – one reviewer suggested this may be “God’s perspective.” In any case, this kind of choreography and direction give us a strange, life-like surreal quality to our viewing – it feels like we’re there, it feels like our own story is being told. The almost constant absence of music, the simple, long framing of shots, and the natural dialogue complete with awkward pauses and introspective silence all work towards a very “mundane” reality within the films.

2. In most creative writing classes and books, most likely the principle rule you will learn is “Show, Don’t Tell.” The idea is, don’t tells us, “He was mad.” Show us. Show us his shaking hands. Make us hear his tone of voice. Have him kick something. Anything other than tell us through simple exposition: He was mad. The Decalogue manifests this principle perhaps better than any film I’ve ever seen.[2] There is almost no exposition at all. No conversations happen that explicitly relate to us the plot, tell us what is going on in explicit terms, even tell us what the characters are thinking and feeling. We are shown the story by a woman ripping the leaves off of a plant, a man toppling the donation candles before an altar, a woman standing at a window smoking a cigarette. The film forces you to interact with it, to experience it along with the characters.

Decalogue II tells the story of a woman whose husband is sick, perhaps dying. She tries to get the doctor that is caring for him, who lives in the same building as her (remember that all the stories take place within this one building), to give her a prognosis: will he die or not? The doctor refuses to give a diagnosis. She pushes him, explaining that she is pregnant – but with another man’s child;[3] if he lives, she will get an abortion, if he dies, she will keep the child. Still, the doctor will not give prognosis. “I have seen patients that should have died and pulled through, and patients that should’ve been fine, but died inexplicably.” Eventually the doctor does give in, and his “prognosis” serves to illustrate the commandment “Thou shall not take my name in vain:” No one but God decides who lives and dies. That is the realm of his authority alone.

Decalogue III is probably, thus far, the most abstract examination of a commandment. An exposition of the Sabbath, we have a man who is drawn away from his family on Christmas Eve by a former lover in the midst of crisis. They spend the night together, and we unravel their complex history as well as the deep layers of interaction between them as the night progresses. The main idea seems to be the principle of family within the Sabbath command. It is an examination of fidelity and regret.

I am excited to see the rest. Every 50 minutes feels like a lifetime. They are not exactly fun to watch. But they are encompassing. They are engaging yet “normal” stories that never fail to leave you wondering, and identifying with all the characters portrayed. There are no black and white people – each story is told from all perspectives, so that while some characters are better than others, we find it hard to judge any of them, because they are people. The Decalogue is a meaningful, purposeful look at life, and thus, as we watch, we find that, in some strange way, we are looking at ourselves.

5/5 (for both)

[1] Those of you who have not seen the movie, stop everything you are doing right now, give yourself a swirly, then acquire and watch the movie with all the quickness that you can possible muster. This is life or death.

[2] Other films that do this really well off the top of my head: Punch-Drunk Love, Darjeeling Limited (really, any Wes Andersen film), Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Yojimbo (and it’s Western interpretation, Fistful of Dollars), and National Treasure. This last one is a complete joke, as National Treasure actually serves as a prime example of how to rely completely on exposition for moving the plot forward.

[3] This (adultery) has been a theme in two of the films thus far, and we have not even gotten to the commandment on adultery.

Trailer Alert!

2008-07-30T08:26:00.000-07:00

I don't think I'll get into the habit of this, but I did think that this was a cool trailer.

http://www.moviefone.com/movie/harry-potter-and-the-half-blood-prince/27063/main

Love the bit of dialogue at the end.

Random Movie Question Offered Purely to Instigate Discussion

2008-07-29T12:20:00.000-07:00

Okay, it doesn't make a great acronym. I'm working on that.

From time to time I'd like to ask some random questions -- I find it helps my "movie memory." Plus, movie arguments are fun.

So, in honor of the upcoming Kevin Costner blockbuster (or merely "bust") Swing Vote, here's this week's question:

Who is your favorite movie president?

Off the top of my head:
Peter Sellers in Dr. Strangelove "You can't fight in here. This is the War Room."
Michael Douglas in The American President (despite the pretentious title)
Morgan Freeman in Deep Impact (underrated movie)
And, of course, Harrison Ford in Air Force One, where he shot more people than Dick Cheney.

Anyone who nominates Bill Pulman from Independence Day will be mocked and banned.

My New Favorite Movie of the Year -- And It Ain't Close

2008-07-22T08:28:00.000-07:00

You can certainly forgive a little bit of hyperbole in a headline, can't you?.

My brother texted me over the weekend -- promising that I would have a new top ten favorite soon. Well, I might. I need to see it 10-12 more times -- but it's on track.

It wasn't The Dark Knight. If you skip down and read my review, I liked it a great deal -- but found a central conflict in the last 30 minutes to be rushed and inconsistent in the world Nolan had created. It's a good film -- perhaps the best comic book movie of all time (though I'm crossing my fingers on Watchmen).

Nope, it's the movie I saw yesterday afternoon, perhaps one of the most strangly beautiful movies I've ever seen. EVER SEEN!!!! (Sorry, the hyperbole keeping coming back).

Frankly, what Pixar has done in WALL-E is create a mostly silent film in the grand tradition of Chaplin -- the Outsider who falls in love and who finds his complete-ness in his Other set in a dystopic future that Aldous Huxley would love, with the beauty and majesty of some of the best shots in 2001: A Space Odyssey (there's a pretty clear reference point in one of the key music cues). That's pretty stinking impressive. And, on top of all that -- it has heart! I haven't loved a bizarre looking creature with an acronym for a name like WALL-E since E.T. That's the short list (okay, okay R2-D2 also on the list -- but I still can't forgive Lucas for giving him the ability to fly).

WALL-E is a trash compactor. That's what he does. But he has a very special trait-- his work inspires him. He stacks his little cubes into spires that would have impressed the ancient Egyptians. And throughout his day he saves the little trinkets he finds along the way ("one man's trash. . ." if you will) to take back to his treasure trove. Oh, and he loves musicals. He's pretty complicated for an automated creature with limited vocabulary.

But he knows that he's alone. Other than a cockroach companion with the resilience of the Terminator, his world is empty. Humanity abandoned it 700 years ago on a spaceship that's a cross between The Love Boat (complete with a Lido deck), a Wal*Mart Supercenter, and Discovery One from 2001 (with its own version of HAL 9000).

That's when EVE comes into the picture. EVE is like most women: beautiful, complicated, does a great cold shoulder, has the ability to say her Other's name with a wonderful variety of tone -- from warm to enraged, and has a death ray. She is boundless whereas he is limited. She is focused on the mission whereas he is focused on her, and doesn't mind tracking dirt all over the nice clean spaceship to get to her. She can give life (in her own way -- the "womb" motif is pretty overt), whereas all he does is clean up someone else's trash. They're perfect for each other.

Big time credit goes to the animators to depict a beautiful silent love story as this. WALL-E's furtive Woody Allen-esque sighs and glances combine EVE's warmth coming through the LED's of her cold exterior to tell a story where dialogue is just unnecessary. It would just clutter up the space. At one moment, they enjoy a gravity-free dance with a fire extinguisher worthy of Fred and Ginger.

Their warmth, beauty, and (all right, I'll just say it) love is set against the backdrop of humanity that needs reminded of Dean Wormer classic piece of advice, that "fat, drunk, and stupid is no way to go through life." They exist in a cultural coma, trapped by the "tyranny of the present" (Cicero), lacking an alternative vision, goal, telos. If anyone needed eschatology -- it's these people. Bizarre, then, that it's the love of two robots together with their band of misfit toys (any movie that references City Lights, 2001, and Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer has to be brilliant, right?) that brings awakening and new life.

WALL-E is a movie filled with awe and wonder. I'm sorry that I couldn't keep my inner fan-boy down in this review. There might be flaws to the picture, but I couldn't see them (and I hope I never do). I was sad to read on some internet film bulletin boards that I respect that some really resented the political stance of the movie (there is a bit of a poke at W at one point). That's too bad. They need to read Neil Postman's Amusing Ourselves to Death and A.J. Conyers The Eclipse of Heaven to find the heart of the film. WALL-E and EVE don't give humanity back heaven, but it reintroduces them to the connection between love and life (complete with a cross-moment). It's the best exposition of 1 John I've seen in a long while.

Bandits: German Rockers Girls

2008-07-21T21:05:00.000-07:00

Four young German girls on the run from the law who spend their time blasting out American rock songs – what could be better than that? Wait, don’t answer that. But if your answer is “nothing,” or even “not much,” or maybe even, “I don’t know,” then Bandits is the movie for you. And maybe some others.

It’s foreign film, so if you hate subtitles, beware. But then again, if you hate subtitles, you should probably be reading somebody else’s blog, for in the true pretentious form of a genuine film snob, I must scoff at such apathetic sensibilities. But if you can get past the foreignness, then Bandits is really a fun film.

The story centers, as I have mentioned, on four German girls who meet in prison and start a band. They escape, but before they do, one of them sent off a demo tape of their performance. As the news of their prison break becomes widespread, the record producer guy who originally threw away their demo digs it back up, and quickly after that, the young band of girls (the name of their band, by the way, is “Bandits;” hence the title, right?) become quite popular indeed. The remainder of the film is them dealing with their newfound fame while trying to avoid the police (which ends up feeling like old Beatles films like Help!, where they constantly are on the run in disguise from throngs of fans) and dealing with their own inner turmoil.

The movie is interspersed with artistic (but slightly unrealistic) stylized scenes that are for the most part very fun to watch. Also, at several points, we have music videos of a sort as the band performs their various songs. The psychology of the movie is fairly trite, but believable. The acting is average. But the quality of film lies in the sheer fun of it. It has its serious moments, of course. The theme of death is revisited several times. “We live amidst death all of our lives, until the moment we die,” one of the gals says. When tragedy strikes, the line is repeated. But overall, it is a film about four quirky girls who, in an act of desperation, leave behind the troubles of their previous lives and live a dream, if only for a short time.

If you’re into obscure, foreign films, I would recommend it, if you could find it. It’s fun, it’s got very humorous scenes, and the soundtrack is really good. It is a entertaining watch, and has a certain charm. Plus, it’s German. I mean, Germans are cool.

3.8/5

Doug's review of The Dark Knight -- less effusive, less pretty pictures, more spoilers

2008-07-21T09:58:00.000-07:00

SPOILERS ABOUND in this review -- hey, you don't have to read it!

(Space for those who want to skip down)

For those of you who only read reviews for the final "tally," (so boring!) I find that I can't give it one overarching score. To me, the movie felt like 2 episodes in a miniseries. The first episode was terrific -- it made sense in the world it had created (more on that later). The second episode (begun with Joker's escape in the police car) I thought became inconsistent in the established world -- actually, felt more in line with the world of Batman Begins.

So here's my score: Episode one 4.75 pencils out of 5 (he, he). Episode two 3.5 double-headed coins out of 5.

Okay, with that whole scoring business over -- allow me to elaborate.

The real strength of the movie is that it takes place in the real world, much more than BB. One reviewer said that it felt like Batman was dropped into The Departed, and that makes a great deal of sense. Alex compares the movie to Heat, and that is an apt comparison. Nolan's choice of making the story about organized crime (rather than most supervillain's fixation on world domination -- whatever that is) lends credibility to the story, and the movie is better for it. Gotham looks like Chicago (where they shot much of the film) -- we're getting further away from the Tim Burton Gothic style (BB took baby steps in that direction, much more in this film). The Narrows are gone. No mention of Wayne Tower being the center of the city. Even Wayne Manor (and Bat Cave) are out of the picture for the time being. Even the Scarecrow is, in tone, a different character than in the first picture.

The movie is darker, and yet there are many more scenes in broad daylight (this even becomes a point of dialogue in the first meetings of mob bosses). The bank heist, the funeral procession, and the hospital scene take place in broad daylight. Again, this gives more of a flavor of reality to the film.

It's amazing how the Joker fits seamlessly into the realistic fabric of the film. He doesn't really have a character arc -- he's more of a force of nature. I love how his origin story kept changing. We don't know where he comes from. He doesn't get a completely "satisfying" end. He is chaos personified, coming in from "nowhere," with no telos in sight except "watching the world burn." Ledger deserves all the credit he is getting for the role -- his motivation is completely consistent throughout the film, and his scenes with Bale's Batman are stunning (even while hanging upside down -- "I can't kill you because you're too much fun!"). They will be a lot of pressure on the Academy to recogize the role with a Best Supporting Actor nomination.

Some have downplayed the arc of Batman in the film, but I disagree. I think Bale has been given plenty to work with here. At the beginning of the film, he's become an elitist, looking "down" on Gotham from his penthouse perch. He has nothing but disdain for his fellow vigilantes "not what I had in mind when I wanted to inspire people." His breakthrough with cellular technology is completely unethical (though pretty cool). But faced with the twin forces of chaos (Joker) and chance (Two-Face), it's his ethics (his "rules" that the Joker has so much disdain for), that bring him back to the hero Gotham needs him to be. He can't bring himself to "burn the forest" a la Alfred. He sacrifices much in the end, and I like the direction the character is going at the end of the film -- back into the shadows from which he came.

Okay, here's what I didn't like -- Harvey Dent's motivation. We see glimpses of the "gambler" mentality (the courtroom scene) prior to the disfiguring event, but he never left things to chance. He's in control the entire way -- the coin has two-heads. Gordon's fake death gave him an Ace in the hole. In addition, it was not chance that made Dent into Two-Face, it was the Joker's choice to deceive Batman. The transformation of Dent into a chance-driven maniac felt rushed, and therefore unsatisfactory. The theme of choice over chaos and chance ended with a pretty satisfactory conclusion (the twin ferries), but the hurried plot (can a 2 1/2 hour film be rushed?) led to Dent being a pretty inconsistent character. Why threaten Gordon's family? The movie became more cartoonish in motivation during the 2nd episode.

In addition, Nolan still struggles with shooting hand-to-hand combat (he needs to watch the Bourne Ultimatum again), and the whole threat that led to the ferry show-down felt underexplained (I stuggled to follow that part).

Is it the best superhero movie ever? Certainly it's the most realistically protrayed (outside of Two-Face). I would count the Star Wars franchise as technically superhero movies, so The Empire Strikes Back would be my choice as the best superhero movie ever (I'm sure Alex and others will disagree with my labelling -- but they're wrong -- and I'll defend that labelling in the comments section if need be). I came away impressed and excited for a third installment with Nolan, Bale, Oldman, Freeman, Caine and whoever they can get to play the Riddler as the master manipulator (the smartest guy in the room -- Daniel Day-Lewis, John Malkovich, Joaquin Phoenix, or Guy Pierce would be great, as would Ed Norton if he hadn't done the Hulk).

Conspiracy: Euphemism and Death

2008-07-20T18:47:00.000-07:00

“It is important to know what words mean. But it is also important to remember that in a thousand years, no matter who holds the power, history will be written in those words.”

This is the summation of the policy held by the Nazis, as portrayed in Conspiracy, a film depicting the Wannsee Conference, considered one of the more important meetings during the years of WWII concerning the fate of the Jews. The line is spoken by Heydrich (played brilliantly by Kenneth Brannagh), who was one of the key architects of the Jewish exterminations deployed by the Nazi regime.

The 2001 film is based off the conference minutes recorded in Wannsee, a Berlin “suburb,” and the script is said to stick very closely to the timeframe and discussion of the conference. Having studied a little bit in this area of history, I could tell that were several accuracies in the general feel of the film. The interaction between the political and military leaders there was very true to the political climate within the Nazi regime. Hitler was known for pitting his underlings against each other to fight for his approval, and this is well depicted in the partisans politely employed ploys and deceptions. No one says what they mean, but everybody knows exactly what is being said. Also accurate was motivation for the chambers as caused by a drop in morale of the soldiers who would spend hours a day with their only task shooting Jews (including women and children). The feel of the film is very natural. The atmosphere is deftly and wonderfully portrayed.

There was a lot less discussion at the real conference. Most of the 85 minutes of the meeting was a speech by Heydrich. The meeting was not, as is sometimes supposed, to decide the fate of the Jews. That was for the most part already decided, and such a decision would never be made by a council as such at any rate – such a decision would belong to the Führer. The meeting was actually to consolidate the power of Heydrich, who had been put in charge of carrying out the “evacuation” of the Jews. The Nazi regime was notoriously very unorganized, and many different departments and leaders had jurisdiction in many overlapping areas. Heydrich’s intention in the meeting was to make clear his authority over all the members that had a “say” in the Jewish issue of Nazi Germany.

However, the film does not fail to portray this. After about thirty minutes of opinion, Heydrich’s right hand man Eichmann basically feeds the meeting’s attendants about the “successes” of the gas chambers, and the possibilities achievable (something like 61 million Jews a year, estimated). Sprinkled throughout the film is Heydrich’s meeting with several of the more influential members, where a discreet but clear purpose if made: “You have a choice,” Heydrich says over and over. Decide your allegiances. I’m in charge.

The entire film takes place at the Wannsee estate, mostly within the one conference room. Brannagh is absolutely brilliant as Heydrich, as I have already said. Heydrich was known for his charismatic personality, and Brannagh captures this wonderfully. Even his threats are polite, said in a gentle voice with a smile on his face. Stanley Tucci plays a very good, composed, reserved Eichmann, who because of his personal experience with the Jews (even to the extent of knowing the “Jewish language”) was considered one of the most important people for dealing with the Jews “practically.” Walter Stuckart was done wonderfully by Colin Firth, which is to be expected. There is no action, the entire film takes place in dialogue, and is sometimes confusing as you try to keep all the people straight, with all of their job descriptions and such. Although exposition occurs, it is kept to a minimum, and so while this makes much more work for the audience as they try to keep up with the intricacies of Nazi German political culture, it keeps the whole setting very natural and believable. The film works.

It is something of a study in rhetoric, language, philosophy and propaganda. No clear terminology is to be used – the Jews are to be “evacuated,” nothing more. Any mention of clear intentions is “stricken from the record.” At one point, one of the attendees says something to the effect of “why don’t we just call this ‘evacuation’ for what it is.” Tucci as natural and as discreet as can be turns to the transcriber and shakes his head – it is perfectly shot, well done indeed. The film is a parabolic study of the Nazi philosophy/politics. Nietzsche and Darwin are both mentioned, both times with dual connotations (their context and our context would provide the two-sides of the dual meaning).

“We will be moving Jews in days, not weeks,” Heydrich says after the meeting is over. “Start writing up your train schedules. Ah, Schubert Quintet in C major. The adagio will tear your heart out.” Like De Niro in The Untouchables, that amazing scene where Capone cries over Mozart’s Le Mariage de Figaro interspersed with shots of a murder that he commanded, here we have glimpse of someone – a person – who can be so moved by art and yet unaffected by the terrible things that he does. The whole meeting clearly portrays a group of men convinced, for whatever reasons, that they are superior to the Jews, that the Jews are a problem, a problem that needs a solution. Whenever we study the Holocaust, we always wonder how it could be possible, and yet the dark feeling inside remains, wondering if we would have been capable or even disposed to do the same if it had been us. Conspiracy is one more reminder of the double-edged question, and like most portrayals of the Holocaust, provides no clear answers.

4/5

The Dark Knight: Batman at New Heights

2008-07-19T20:15:00.000-07:00

94% on Rotten Tomatoes. Four stars from good ole Ebert. A flow of unending praise from reviews all over the net. And they are all saying the same thing: The Dark Knight is perhaps the greatest superhero movie yet.

Really, they might be right. As a superhero movie/comic book fan, I’m going through the ole movie rolodex in the head, comparing it to all of my favorites. To tell the truth, the top of the list has been Batman Begins for three years now.[1] Does the sequel surpass the original? This could become the common debate, much like considerations of Godfather I and II or Star Wars episodes four and five. At any rate, beyond comparative questions that must always be arbitrary and are probably not helpful,[2] the truth of the matter is that The Dark Knight is probably going to be the biggest movie of the year. It is a true force to be reckoned with, a film of sheer power, and is going to change the way superhero movies are made, conceived, and received. “There’s no going back,” the Joker remarks to the Bat, “You’ve changed things…forever.” I can’t help but agree.

Of course, I wonder if we should even classify it simply as a “superhero” movie. I think it might be better thought of as an action/crime drama. Like Heat, the near-three hours are simply mesmerizing, and pass very quickly. I’m told that Heat was actually a great influence on Nolan in making the film. This very well could be true. They share a similar event-driven plot that is continually accented by personal character struggles and colliding story lines. We build to the climax in much the same way: slowly, methodically, but consistently and with dark excitement. The bank heist scene, as well as the interrogation scene, also felt to me a lot like the classic crime drama.

The scientist/detective we all know and love is definitely here. Batman Begins, of course, didn’t paint Bruce Wayne as a dummy, but here we really see him break out. As the Joker terrorizes Gotham, attempting through a steady series of ingeniously planned[3] assassinations to engage Batman in a strange psychological game, the caped crusader relies not just on his gadgetry but also on his incredible intellect to capture the crazy clown prince of crime. But perhaps more importantly, the psychological struggle in this film has been taken to a whole new level for the Batman film franchise. And this is not just for the haunted billionaire alone; Harvey Dent, Rachel Dawes, even Gordon, all are brought through incredible mental and ethical struggles throughout the story.

In one of the few bad reviews I’ve found of the film, The Dark Knight is accused of being a philosophically cheap world of polarities and dualities. This could be the case. The Joker says to Batman with a crooked smile, “You complete me.” The question is revisited again and again as to whether or not the Joker is exactly the kind of inspiration that a vigilante like the Batman would bring about. But I think this is only a shallow analysis of a much more complex portrayal. It would, I believe, be a mistake to simply see Batman and the Joker as polar opposites representing good and evil. Clearly, the kind of struggles and choices that the “hero” makes throughout the film muddy our image of good in him.[4] If anything, the movie may say something to the effect that there is no true, pure good, or maybe (just maybe) that kind of good can always be corrupted. Again and again, the truly great decisions of the film come from very imperfect people (we especially see this on the boats towards the end). The movie has a very complicated view of people, of their motivations, and of the struggles they have in the decisions they make, both for good and evil. And really, I don’t know that just because the Joker says something means we should take it as the message of the film. He is a constant liar throughout,[5] and in the end, his philosophy of corruption is clearly portrayed as incorrect.

To be honest, I think there are much deeper, and in our age and part of the world, more pressing political/philosophical speculations in the film. In a room deep in Wayne Enterprises, the Batman comes up with a way to put surveillance on all the citizens of Gotham, and Lucius Fox says, “This…is…wrong.” It is, of course, reminiscent of a similar issue that has been at the forefront of American politics recently.[6] In a conversation between Wayne, Dawes, and Dent, Dent praises the Romans for, in times of military crisis, putting the all the power in the hands of one man to get a job. Dawes counters that this is how Rome ended up with Julius Caesar – one of history’s most famous dictators. “Either you die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain,” Dent responds. Indeed.

But in the center of this psychological thriller truly does stand one, lone villain. Heath Ledger’s Joker is what everybody is talking about, and with good reason. He steals the show – he really does, and it is a good show to begin with. The acting of the movie is certainly above average. Bale is, of course, solid as a rock in his interpretation. Morgan Freeman, Gary Oldman, and Michael Caine are everything you could ask for from such veterans. Gyllenhaal is good, and Eckhart, who is facing some criticism as the only flaw of a nearly flawless film, I think does very well in his own right. But honestly, no one holds a candle to Heath Ledger’s Joker. When I first heard that Ledger would be doing the Joker, I’ll admit, I was really suspicious. After the first teaser, when I heard his voice,[7] I said, “He’s going to be the best Joker interpretation there ever was.” I was not disappointed.

For me, the pinnacle interpretation has always been Mark Hamill’s voicing in Timm and Dini’s masterful Batman portrayal, Batman: The Animated Series. He was the perfect synthesis of humor and bedlam – he was funny, and yet so evil. Well, I think, with ALL due respect to Timm and Dini’s masterpiece, the animated Joker has been surpassed. Ledger was brilliant. Incredible, really. Every twitch, every delivery, every laugh and every expression is pure magnificence. He deserves every consideration for the Oscar, and perhaps we really are going to see the first posthumous Oscar since Peter Finch (Network).[8]

The principle scene of the film was between Bale and Ledger in the interrogation room. It was like watching Pacino and De Niro at the restaurant in Heat, or Eastwood and Malkovich from In the Line of Fire. The incredible charisma between the actors, the tension between hero and villain, the intensity of the moment in the film. Absolutely brilliant, and yet believable. Nolan’s Joker is something special: he appears out of nowhere, with a back story as clean and clear as his grimy make-up, an absolutely delicious psychotic who is dark, and yet still retains that gruesome, humorous quality. This Joker will be, I think, remembered as one of the great villains, along with Darth Vader and Michael Corleone. No one will ever think of a magic trick with a pencil the same again.

There are flaws in the film. Some of the technology was not as believable for me. There are a few monologues, especially the last scene, which feel contrived. In true comic book vein, there is an endless supply of henchmen that Bats must fight at every turn. And as a Batman fan, I really don’t know if I feel the Two-face story arc received the attention it deserves.[9] But they are few, and they are hardly noticeable. Nolan’s direction is smooth and tight. The story is well-conceived. The acting is believable. For me, I need to see the movie again. I don’t know that I will really know how I feel about it until the DVD comes out and I can watch about five more times. But this I do know: this truly is a new height in the Batman franchise.

4.92/5

[1] Unless we were to count Shyamalan’s brilliant film Unbreakable as a superhero movie.

[2] I mean really, who cares which Godfather is better; they belong together. They are masterpieces that need not be compared but appreciated as two parts of a whole.

[3] Well, maybe. We must, of course, consider the scene in the hospital room.

[4] Indeed, if there is a polar opposite, I might think it the Joker with Harvey Dent – although, of course, this polarity must take a nasty turn.

[5] His continually changing story of how he got his scars was brilliant indeed, and may have even been a nod to Timm and Dini, whose own Joker also has a chameleon-esque background story.

[6] Vis à vis FISA.

[7] “Starting tonight…people will die…I’m a man of my weeerrrd.”

[8] That’s the one with the famous line, “I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore!”

[9] Unless (KIND OF A SPOILER) something changes concerning that story in the sequel; which is not too hard to conceive – I think there is more than meets the eye in the end of the film.

Citizen Kane: Reflections on Money, Power, and Masters

2008-07-18T13:26:00.000-07:00

Okay, I just saw Citizen Kane again for the first time since High School. Back then, I watched it simply because AFI told me to, and although I understood the general gist of the pursuit of power and possibilities of corruption therein, I really didn’t get it, and found it rather a chore to endure. But still, I got bragging rights. “You seen Citizen Kane?” “Sho ‘nuff, I seen it. Booyah!”

This time around, it was not nearly the chore I remember it being. In all honesty, I found it to be quite captivating simply on an entertaining level. There is a cynical, witty but subtle sense of humor that underlies the entire film. The acting, although at times I must say a little contrived, is still impressive (and really, I dig Joseph Cotton – I have since Niagara, although I’m sure most people will remember him from The Third Man). The movie is incredibly nuanced and subtle, and pays exceptional attention to detail, and so almost demands to be watched again as soon as possible, so that you can see it all again through the lens of a knowledgeable viewing. And the directing…ooh, I love it. There are some shots that were just brilliant to me. Welles’ use of angles and shadows, creating silhouettes and obstructions, long frames on one person in a dialogue between two – oh, I ate it up! One of my favorites was the shot of the reporter in the phone booth at the “Singer” gal’s joint.

But I found the juxtaposition between poor/rich, happiness/unhappiness, etc etc , to be most interesting. The “rosebud” twist/MacGuffin obviously stands as a reference to the days when Kane was poor and happy (as the only scene with him and the sled illustrates – the kid never shuts up in the background, squeals of joy reverberate nearly to the point of annoyance while his mother in the house legally sign his life away[1]), while the rest of the movie portrays a Kane who desires money and power and image and drives away all of his loved ones in the process. Kane begins as a sort of semi-social, liberal reformer. He has contempt for his “birthright” of riches, gleefully runs a paper that loses about a mil a year exposing corporate scandals, and means to serve the “common man.”[2]

Somewhere along the line, that changes. This is most illustrated when his first wife asks if his paper is still really about serving the people, and Kane replies, “People will believe what I tell them to believe!” Of course, again and again, this is proved to be wrong, as his futile attempt to have the public respect his second wife’s “singing” showed. And so the film ends and begins with a man who ultimately is broken and sorrowful, and his dying word remembers the one time in the whole film that he was poor, and was happy.

Kane found that you cannot serve both the people and money. You can’t serve them and dictate to them “what’s good for them” at the same time, so to speak. Kane’s backing of the Spanish-American War, his refusal to give up a governor ship at the expense of shattering his family (and losing the chance at office anyway), his parlays and meetings with the world’s most influential people, they do not gain him the lasting influence that is true power. Nor do they afford him the kinds of change that he sees as good and proper. Kane becomes involved in silly games of saving face and manipulation, and the original, good goal is lost somewhere in the midst. In the end, Kane constantly resorts to the only power he knows, even when trying to convince his wife to stay, and it only grants him to die alone with his selfishness, the last words on his lips the memory of a bygone time filled with light, overshadowed by a very dark, brooding life.

Someone once said somewhere that you cannot serve two masters. You can’t serve God and money, you will either hate the one and love the other, or adore the one and despise the other. Mayhap Kane illustrates this very well. At the end of the movie, we are left wondering what a man with so much “power,” with so much “influence,” really achieved. He never really liberated anyone, and actually ended up building more prisons. Thus, Citizen Kane at least illustrates what true power is not, and offers us the lone image of a simple, wooden sled to contemplate what it really might be.

5/5

[1] This point is brilliantly emphasized, I think, by the father closing the window, and then the mother opening it again. And remember, it’s like a blizzard outside.

[2] I am reminded of Barton Fink’s own search to illustrate, examine, and ultimately speak for (though perhaps inaccurately) the “common man.” Perhaps Fink and Kane have both misunderstood the “common man,” because at the end of the day, they really aren’t the “common man,” and have made no real attempts to be one of their number.

The Decalogue I: Adventures in Polish Film-making

2008-07-15T16:29:00.000-07:00

It has begun…

The Decalogue. Adventures in Polish film making. And if all ten are as good and as thought-provoking as the first, then we should be in for an adventure indeed.

By way of introduction, the Decalogue is a Polish made-for-TV miniseries that was made in the late 80’s. All ten films are centered on the tenants of a modern-day housing project, where the characters of each independent episode sometimes interact. The intent of each of the ten independent episodes is to examine, interpret, or otherwise contemplate each of the Ten Commandments.[1] Over the course of approximately the next ten weeks, I would like to review each of the ten episodes in kind.

The first episode is a clear and harmonious look at the first of the Commandments: Thou shall have no other gods before me. The story centers around a boy and his father. The boy is an incredibly inquisitive child, and also very intelligent. He shares his father’s love of computers and math equations, and the concreteness therein. The father, in his love of the mathematic esthetic, has ceased to have any concrete beliefs about God and the afterlife, and even betrays strong skepticism the existence of a soul.

The philosophy of the film is heavy from the get-go. We begin with a child’s questions about death and afterlife, and the father’s own agnostically-formulated answers. This is contrasted by the parallel relationship of the young boy with his aunt (his father’s sister), who believes in God. “God is…very simple, if you have faith,” she says.

The computer stands as a centrifugal force. Several times throughout the film, information is plugged into the dead, staring green and black monitor, then spits out its perfectly compiled information. The philosophy we are to understand behind this computer is espoused in a principle scene where the father, apparently something of a college professor, waxes eloquent on a modernistic, rationalistic understanding of language and mathematics, in which he posits, despite the many difficulties of language and culture, that there can be some kind of grand, mathematical, master language. In this way, he comes to view computers, machines, with the possibility of personality. This belief will have some disastrous consequences – which he probably could not prevent regardless.

The pinnacle scene for me came when the father stares into the dead face of his monitor. There is no information to plug in at this point to avoid the great disaster. No simple equation. Life has struck, and there is no mathematical language to give it meaning. As I watched, I could only think, “You gotta destroy that computer. That’s the only solution. Scorched earth policy, man. Tear down the idols.” And echoing in my mind was Isaiah 44, especially that great line: “All who fashion idols are nothing, and the things they delight in do not profit. Their witnesses neither see nor know, that they may be put to shame.”

The acting is fabulous and believable, especially the wide-eyed wonder and passion of our young boy[2] (I’m not going to even pretend to know these Polish people’s names). The directing impressive. Towards the beginning, there is shot of a tea cup that I really like. “The milk’s sour,” the boy says; yes, that and then some. As the first scene comes full circle with the last, we are left only to contemplate how little we know, how much we trust, and what certainty there really is.

I would consider it a pro-religious film, and at the least, not anti-religious. It is interesting to note that this was made and aired behind the Iron Curtain, during the Cold War. I don’t know if the director/writer ascribes to any Judeo-Christian or Judaistic tradition, or what influence that has had on his life. The father’s name in the first film is Krzysztof, as is the director’s and writer’s. I don’t know if this is autobiographical, the tumultuous journey of the modernist (maybe it’s just a really popular name). But I do know that twenty years later, he has still given us something very important to think about. Especially when we consider just what idols in which we regularly put our faith.

5/5

[1] I believe that it goes by the Roman-Catholic and Lutheran lists.

[2] And to me, this boy and the boy from Searching for Bobby Fisher, they really look a lot alike…just thought you might like to know.

Schindler's List - 5/5

2008-07-15T15:50:00.000-07:00

For my first post review ever, I thought I would do Schindler’s List. I had not seen the movie for quite some time – since High School, in fact[1] - and really, before watching the movie again, all I could remember is being incredibly disturbed by the whole thing. So, glutton for punishment that I am, I decided to have some people over and watch it again. I was afraid to do it alone.

Overall Impression
The movie was so much better than I remember. Really, the three hours were completely captivating. The story is incredibly engrossing, from Schindler’s savvy but selfish business maneuvering, to the disturbing policy of life/death of sociopathic SS commander Amon Göth, to the mini-biopics we are frequently given of several different people out of the 1,000 some-odd Polish Jews that Schindler saved. There were moments were I laughed out loud, obviously moments where I cried, and moments where I was unsure of even what to think or say. The scene where the Jewish women are sent to the “showers” was one of the tensest I have experienced in cinema, even the second time around! It really is a fantastic story.

Directing
I know Spielberg is an established director (and good for him). I had never really watched him for his directing abilities, and this was the first time. I was incredibly impressed with his use of light and dark (especially with the film being black & white), of shadows. The scene between Schindler and the Aucshwitz commander was so well shot, where the light just illuminated the eyes. The scene where Schindler is getting ready was fantastic (the one where we don’t see his face), and then topped by his introductory scene, where we follow him into the restaurant. Wonderfully directed, brilliant really. A friend told me that Spielberg, in order to get the backing to do Schindler’s List, agreed to do Jurassic Park. I can only imagine that meeting: “Steve, why do ya wanna do a picture about Holocaust Jews? How ‘bout a movie about dinosaurs? It’ll be a hit!” I’m glad he made the sacrifice though. I have not seen every Spielberg movie, and certainly those I have seen I have not watch critically. But I wouldn’t hesitate to say that, of his movies that I’ve seen, Schindler’s List stands as his crowning achievement.

Acting
Brilliant. I mean, brilliant. Liam Neeson is of course completely believable as Oskar Schindler. There are moments, such as the horseback scene, where the conflict of emotions on his face is just indescribable. Ralph Fiennes portrays a positively horrible Göth, and I mean that as a compliment. The bathroom scene, where he looks into the mirror after “pardoning” that poor Jewish boy…no words. I have to give Kingsley the trophy though. He is utterly amazing. The principle scene, I think, was when Schindler says to him, “When this is all over, we’ll have a drink.” I was so completely done over when Kingsley looks at him with fear and despair and sorrow and even, maybe, something like love, and says, “I think we better have that drink now.” One tear spills over his cheek. Perfect. I noticed he was not nominated for an Academy Award for that performance. Somebody oughta lose their job over that one.

But really, I have to say something for the scores of parts portraying the various Jews throughout the story. Really, their acting makes the movie. They serve as the foundation of the entire movie, and over and over, through their masterful depictions, you are again and again plunged emotionally into just an inkling of what those people went through. My hat’s off to them.

The horror of the Holocaust is truly incomprehensible. I am stunned and shocked by it. After the movie was over, I said to my friend, “Why do we hate so much?” It’s a question that still haunts me. The presence of evil in the world is undeniable, unbelievable, and unnerving. Schindler’s List stands as a particularly excellent portrayal of one corner of those events, and leaves us to ponder the more important questions.

At the end of the film, in the famous “One more” scene, Liam Neeson says, “I could’ve got one more [hesitation of brilliance] …person.” That was the point, I think. Schindler’s journey to realizing that these Jews, they were people. His conversion, whatever it was, was complete. Maybe that’s all that can be done about such reckless hate. To realize that we are not hating objects, but people, with names and lives and loves and families and desires. I’m afraid the hate that drove the Nazis might just be more common than we realize.

[1] Although the reviews will mostly be first time viewings, occasionally I will re-visit a movie that, on my first time around, I didn’t get because I lacked maturity, experience, the right mood, whatever. I’ll always let you know.

Don't hate me because I'm a film snob

2008-07-15T14:26:00.000-07:00

I've been asked to contribute to the blog as one who's a bit further down the path of film snobbery, to offer a bit of perspective along the way. Film appreciation, in my estimation, takes place best in community. Even if we see movies by ourselves (and I do this quite a bit), it's not until we can communicate our appreciation (and specifically how/why we might like the movie) that we can approach the level of sophistication we're going for in this blog. It's one thing to walk out of the theater and say "Man, that was good" -- but any Philistine who hasn't seen Rashomon or The Third Man can say that.

What I'm hoping, after being exposed to what experts consider the great films (I don't know if an addiction to top 100 lists is an official symptom of film snobbishness, but I have it), is an ability to articulate why Schindler's List is good and White Chicks is bad.

Aesthical arguments are among the most difficult to wage, because taste does vary, even among supposed experts (check out rottentomatoes.com if you don't believe me). I imagine that Alex and I will not be walking in lock-step on the films we discuss, at least I hope not. That would make for a pretty boring blog.

I have 2 hopes for this blog:

1. That I will actually keep up with regularly posting. This is my third attempt at a blog, and both previous attempts started quickly and lost momentum (seed among thorns, if you will). I am hoping to post at least once a week.

2. That we'll gather some more film lovers along the way and develop a community that will sharpen our understanding and appreciation of film. Otherwise, this will just be an exercise in self-congratulation for being elitists. Who wants that?

On Being a Film Snob

2008-07-15T13:52:00.000-07:00

I’m not one. Not yet, not really. I have seen a lot of movies, but not nearly enough, and certainly not the right ones, to warrant such a serious title. But I have, for all the years of my life, loved movies, and it recently occurred to me that film snobbery is really the next step. The right to be pretentious belongs only to those with niches, languages only other pretentious people of the same niche can truly understand, references only the few may catch and jokes only the few may get.

What is a film snob? Really, I don’t know if I can answer that question. Why become one? I don’t know if I even need to answer that question. What’s the point of this blog, then? Ah! Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. I intend, in this blog, to review the movies that I watch in an attempt to “trace,” as it were, my path to becoming a film snob. This is mostly for my own purposes, so I can remember the journey. I doubt any but a few will ever read these posts.

A few things I should state, before we get started.

1. I will have a rating system, just because. It will not be stars – that’s so passé. It will just be “out of five.” Five what? I don’t know, good question. Here’s another good question: Why don’t you mind your own business?

2. Sometimes I will probably do some speculating about Narrative/Story, language, film as an action/art, and stuff like that. You can just skip that stuff if you don’t like it. And if you like that stuff but not the reviews, then just skip the reviews. And if you don’t like any of it, then really, you don’t have to read it.

3. I’m a Christian. Something like a postmodern, post-liberal, progressive, leftist, pacifistic one. It really depends on how you define those terms, I guess. But frequently (and by frequently, I mean, always) I will interpret and review movies through that framework, and often critique them in reference to said framework. That ought to be fun. For me. And maybe you. But mostly me.[1]

Alright, that’s probably enough.

Oh, wait! The title. It’s Latin, but if you didn’t know that, then you should probably leave. Or stay. Really, I’m not bothered. I mean, Latin’s not for everyone, right? But it means, “I see and I turn around/change.” I chose it because each viewing of a movie will change me, and thus, I will change my own sphere of influence. And I also liked the similarity to the words “conversation” and “conversion,” both of which are derived from this Latin word. Make of it what you will.

Anyway, as we say in the “business,” on with the show.

[1] I guess I’m assuming here that there is, in all actuality, a “you,” and that, by being “you,” you are interacting with the writings of this blog. But perhaps you don’t exist, and so there isn’t really a “you” at all. In that case, there is only me, and me alone. But in the act of writing, of creating and expressing, there is some kind of social activity taking place. And that being the case, does that not mean that there is some inherent community to behold, some “you” amidst even me? The answer is no.