Decalogue II & III: Show, Don't Tell

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)

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[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!

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

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

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

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

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

“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

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

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[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

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

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[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

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

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[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

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.

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[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

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

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.

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[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.