Tuesday, April 24, 2012
I'M NOT DEAD
And neither is this blog, I swear! It's just that I haven't really watched many new movies lately; money is tight, I have no Netflix, and to be honest, I'm also pretty preoccupied with trying to find a steady job. Fortunately, I have a few things coming up that should be good fodder for posts; this weekend I'm watching all four of the Marvel movies leading up to The Avengers, and the IFC Center has started up free member screenings again. (I seriously doubt I will be seeing Avengers though, even though I really like the idea of Mark Ruffalo as Bruce Banner.)
Friday, February 24, 2012
The Descendants
I don't get it.
I previously said I couldn't write about this, but now I'm going to try. My main point though, is that I don't get it. I don't get why this film is particularly impressive. Oh sure, it's got George Clooney acting and beautiful shots of Hawaii and a tragic premise that causes everyone to reflect...but none of that adds up to anything substantial or meaningful. There are definitely some great scenes, but I'm not sure what The Descendants is going for. It's not quite a character study; we get just not far enough into Clooney's character, Matt's head for that. It's not quite a family drama; the well-tread (if not played out) "Father doesn't know how to raise daughters" issue is peripheral after the revelation about Matt's wife's infidelity. It's not quite about dealing with imminent death, because there's this weird subplot about whether to sell a large amount of the family land that clashes with Matt's first statement about Hawaii being far from a paradise. I suppose all of these together are supposed to have some emotions or statements about life in general, but nothing really meshes together well enough.
Take Matt's daughters. The younger one, Scottie, is used as a symbol, both of Matt's inability to understand his kids, and this scary new world of technology and vice that our preteens are exposed to these days. We see her in her first scenes in trouble both at school (for showing pictures of her comatose mother) and with other kids (for cyberbullying), and after that, her only actions of note are to have a "friend" who is nothing more than a representation of every fear about Girls These Days.
The older daughter, Alex, gets much more of a spotlight, and frankly, I sort of wish the film was about her. She's the Wild One Sent Off To A Boarding School, but Shailene Woodley manages to put real depth in this character, who has extremely complicated feelings regarding her mother and her possible death. She ends up bringing in her possible-boyfriend Sid, who is kind of a breath of fresh air, but who also inexplicably sticks around for the entire film despite having no good reason to do so. Sid is usually pretty dim but grows more profound as is required by the film. It's frustrating, because he and Alex have interesting points of view (at least, when Sid isn't being a complete moron), but it's stifled in favor of Matt's man angst. He complains about not knowing what to do with his daughters, but he doesn't really do a whole lot to connect with them; Alex is the one who kicks off the hunt for her mother's boyfriend that eventually brings them together, and Matt doesn't even tell Scottie that her mother is going to die until near the end of the film. Why? Because oh, he doesn't know how. Why trying to figure that out is less important than finding your wife's lover, I don't know.
This is a bit of a tangent, but isn't the "oh god, daughters!" thing a bit outplayed? I know we're told that Matt is a workaholic, but are you really telling me that he's this out of touch with his kids? Why is it that single dads always have this "woe is me, how do I deal with daughters?" thing about them, like girls are so mysterious that they never even bother to attempt to understand them until the mother goes on a trip or leaves them or dies or something? And of course the daughters are always Out of Control or dangerously close to it, what with the internets and the sexting and god how do they know these things it wasn't like this when I was young! shit. Are dads really this terrified of their daughters?
But, back to the film. I won't spoil much of the search for Matt's wife's lover, mostly because it's the best part of the film. Instead, I'll bring up the completely left-field subplot of whether to sell the family land. The family wants to, he has to make the decision, you probably know what happens. It's supposed to be another burden for Matt, but there's not that much reason for it besides the opportunity for some revenge and some reminiscing about beautiful times on beautiful land in paradise Hawaii (it's okay to say it's paradise now for some reason, even though before Matt insists it's not). This subplot is where the film gets its name, but it just doesn't gel with the other plots of the film.
It sounds like I'm just focusing on parts I hated, but to be honest, I was bored for the first hour and a half of the film. It meanders around without having a clear center to wander around. I hate saying that a film is boring; I really should have the attention span to watch something slow and meaningful. But there's nothing interesting about the meager scraps of meaning we get from The Descendants, so the best benefit of the doubt I can give it is that I just Didn't Get It.
And really, I don't. I have no idea why it's getting so much praise, critically and awards-wise. If this were about Shailene Woodley's character, I would understand, but it's not, and yet the film and George Clooney are getting so much attention and love. There's a very weird feeling you get when you're an attempted film buff and this sort of thing happens. Sometimes you don't like a film but can see why others might, you get the 'this person just Doesn't Get It' feeling when hearing others reactions to films, and sometimes it seems like either you're an idiot or everyone else saw a different film that you did. I'm reasonably sure that everyone who raved about The Descendants saw the same film I did (hell, I watched a SAG screener [LEGALLY, I might add], so I know they at least saw the same film), so what's going on here? What am I missing? What made this movie more interesting than a cat playing with a hanging string to everyone else?
I previously said I couldn't write about this, but now I'm going to try. My main point though, is that I don't get it. I don't get why this film is particularly impressive. Oh sure, it's got George Clooney acting and beautiful shots of Hawaii and a tragic premise that causes everyone to reflect...but none of that adds up to anything substantial or meaningful. There are definitely some great scenes, but I'm not sure what The Descendants is going for. It's not quite a character study; we get just not far enough into Clooney's character, Matt's head for that. It's not quite a family drama; the well-tread (if not played out) "Father doesn't know how to raise daughters" issue is peripheral after the revelation about Matt's wife's infidelity. It's not quite about dealing with imminent death, because there's this weird subplot about whether to sell a large amount of the family land that clashes with Matt's first statement about Hawaii being far from a paradise. I suppose all of these together are supposed to have some emotions or statements about life in general, but nothing really meshes together well enough.
Take Matt's daughters. The younger one, Scottie, is used as a symbol, both of Matt's inability to understand his kids, and this scary new world of technology and vice that our preteens are exposed to these days. We see her in her first scenes in trouble both at school (for showing pictures of her comatose mother) and with other kids (for cyberbullying), and after that, her only actions of note are to have a "friend" who is nothing more than a representation of every fear about Girls These Days.
The older daughter, Alex, gets much more of a spotlight, and frankly, I sort of wish the film was about her. She's the Wild One Sent Off To A Boarding School, but Shailene Woodley manages to put real depth in this character, who has extremely complicated feelings regarding her mother and her possible death. She ends up bringing in her possible-boyfriend Sid, who is kind of a breath of fresh air, but who also inexplicably sticks around for the entire film despite having no good reason to do so. Sid is usually pretty dim but grows more profound as is required by the film. It's frustrating, because he and Alex have interesting points of view (at least, when Sid isn't being a complete moron), but it's stifled in favor of Matt's man angst. He complains about not knowing what to do with his daughters, but he doesn't really do a whole lot to connect with them; Alex is the one who kicks off the hunt for her mother's boyfriend that eventually brings them together, and Matt doesn't even tell Scottie that her mother is going to die until near the end of the film. Why? Because oh, he doesn't know how. Why trying to figure that out is less important than finding your wife's lover, I don't know.
This is a bit of a tangent, but isn't the "oh god, daughters!" thing a bit outplayed? I know we're told that Matt is a workaholic, but are you really telling me that he's this out of touch with his kids? Why is it that single dads always have this "woe is me, how do I deal with daughters?" thing about them, like girls are so mysterious that they never even bother to attempt to understand them until the mother goes on a trip or leaves them or dies or something? And of course the daughters are always Out of Control or dangerously close to it, what with the internets and the sexting and god how do they know these things it wasn't like this when I was young! shit. Are dads really this terrified of their daughters?
But, back to the film. I won't spoil much of the search for Matt's wife's lover, mostly because it's the best part of the film. Instead, I'll bring up the completely left-field subplot of whether to sell the family land. The family wants to, he has to make the decision, you probably know what happens. It's supposed to be another burden for Matt, but there's not that much reason for it besides the opportunity for some revenge and some reminiscing about beautiful times on beautiful land in paradise Hawaii (it's okay to say it's paradise now for some reason, even though before Matt insists it's not). This subplot is where the film gets its name, but it just doesn't gel with the other plots of the film.
It sounds like I'm just focusing on parts I hated, but to be honest, I was bored for the first hour and a half of the film. It meanders around without having a clear center to wander around. I hate saying that a film is boring; I really should have the attention span to watch something slow and meaningful. But there's nothing interesting about the meager scraps of meaning we get from The Descendants, so the best benefit of the doubt I can give it is that I just Didn't Get It.
And really, I don't. I have no idea why it's getting so much praise, critically and awards-wise. If this were about Shailene Woodley's character, I would understand, but it's not, and yet the film and George Clooney are getting so much attention and love. There's a very weird feeling you get when you're an attempted film buff and this sort of thing happens. Sometimes you don't like a film but can see why others might, you get the 'this person just Doesn't Get It' feeling when hearing others reactions to films, and sometimes it seems like either you're an idiot or everyone else saw a different film that you did. I'm reasonably sure that everyone who raved about The Descendants saw the same film I did (hell, I watched a SAG screener [LEGALLY, I might add], so I know they at least saw the same film), so what's going on here? What am I missing? What made this movie more interesting than a cat playing with a hanging string to everyone else?
Chronicle - go see it
If the title didn’t tip you off, I really liked Chronicle.
To start off, the premise of “teens get powers” is elevated by the found footage style and the emphasis of character emotions instead of the details of their powers. We never find out what the object that gave them telekinesis is, and it doesn’t matter at all. This is about the main character, Andrew Detmer, his life and his issues, which in turn dictate how he uses his telekinesis.
Most of the film is presumably shot from one of his cameras, giving Andrew’s first person view or a static shot; we’re truly peering in on Andrew’s life here, the good and the very, very bad. As the film goes on, he uses his telekinesis for gradually more expressive shots and camera movements, almost as if he’s meaning to distance himself from us. The device works even better during the big action scene near the end (come on, if you saw an ad for this, you know there’s a fight), shown through surveillance, police cameras, and onlookers’ iphones. It hits home that there are actual people in danger during this fight instead of just stock onlookers to a superhero action setpiece.
I really kind of hate that Chronicle is being classified (and advertised) as the ‘watchable superhero movie; I’m not derisive of comic book movies or superhero films like a lot of people are these days, but this film is about so much more than just “teens get superpowers one is a villian oh noes!” We’re looking at three characters who don’t really care that much about The Greater Good; Andrew, Matt and Steve would much rather fly around, play pranks, show off, and record Jackass-esque attempts at controlling their powers than go out and save the world. And while Andrew could be described as “the villain”, I think that’s a lazy interpretation. His violent outbursts later in the film aren’t born from a concrete desire; he has a shitty home life and feels isolated and alone and his emotional arc is what causes his rampage. He wants revenge and to be left alone and to stop his pain, but his anger is so unfocused that it’s unfair to paint him as any sort of “bad guy”. It’s disappointing that Chronicle is being pushed into strict genre terms, because it’s really a great film that deserves to be discussed on its own merit.
(As a side note, I hope people see Chronicle if it’s still in theaters in your area because it’s the type of thing we should tell Hollywood we want more of. Support good films from industry newcomers!)
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
I don't understand.
I saw Hugo again last week, as well as the Descendants. I have previously said that I would write about both of them. But I've sat down and tried on several occasions, and I just can't seem to write anything close to a useful review on either of them.
I can at least understand my trepidation regarding The Descendants; to me it was kind of a listless film, only gaining any sort of shape or interest in the last twenty or thirty minutes. I can't say that it's a bad movie, but it just seemed...there, without anything for the viewer to latch onto. I try not to dismiss slow movies as boring, but...I found most of it boring, and the worst part is I can't express why. The characters just don't break out of the familiar character types (Dad who doesn't know what to do with daughters, The Troublesome Daughter, The Innocent Daughter, Hippie Family Friends, Derpy Boyfriend, Girl that is every fear about tweens today personified) enough to be interesting, although the actors try hard. Combined with some truly uninspired plot points (the whole issue of the Hawaiian land doesn't mesh well with the rest of the narrative, and why does Sid hang around for the entire movie again?), I honestly can't figure out how to talk about this film in a constructive manner. The bottom line is that I found a cat playing with string more engaging than most of the film, I don't understand all the praise for this film, and my apathy regarding it makes me feel unqualified to write something useful on it.
And then we have Hugo. I saw it in 2D back in December. I definitely enjoyed it more than The Descendants, and it's a film I would recommend to literally anyone, but both times I saw it, I had a baffling absence of feeling about it. Sometimes I think I'm disappointed with it, but there's no line of thinking to back that theory up. Sometimes I think I just wasn't in a great mood when I watched it, but I saw it twice, what more should I need? I don't think I've ever had so much trouble saying something useful on a film, and I'm at an utter loss.
I can't even say this is a symptom of some sort of general film apathy or even a general mood problem; I certainly had something to say about Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, which I also saw recently. As I said, Hugo is definitely worth watching, if for nothing else, for the parallel between the celebration of the birth of the moving image and Scorsese's exploration into 3D cinematography. But something is missing, either in the film or in me, and I can't figure out what.
So what is an amateur reviewer to do?
I can at least understand my trepidation regarding The Descendants; to me it was kind of a listless film, only gaining any sort of shape or interest in the last twenty or thirty minutes. I can't say that it's a bad movie, but it just seemed...there, without anything for the viewer to latch onto. I try not to dismiss slow movies as boring, but...I found most of it boring, and the worst part is I can't express why. The characters just don't break out of the familiar character types (Dad who doesn't know what to do with daughters, The Troublesome Daughter, The Innocent Daughter, Hippie Family Friends, Derpy Boyfriend, Girl that is every fear about tweens today personified) enough to be interesting, although the actors try hard. Combined with some truly uninspired plot points (the whole issue of the Hawaiian land doesn't mesh well with the rest of the narrative, and why does Sid hang around for the entire movie again?), I honestly can't figure out how to talk about this film in a constructive manner. The bottom line is that I found a cat playing with string more engaging than most of the film, I don't understand all the praise for this film, and my apathy regarding it makes me feel unqualified to write something useful on it.
And then we have Hugo. I saw it in 2D back in December. I definitely enjoyed it more than The Descendants, and it's a film I would recommend to literally anyone, but both times I saw it, I had a baffling absence of feeling about it. Sometimes I think I'm disappointed with it, but there's no line of thinking to back that theory up. Sometimes I think I just wasn't in a great mood when I watched it, but I saw it twice, what more should I need? I don't think I've ever had so much trouble saying something useful on a film, and I'm at an utter loss.
I can't even say this is a symptom of some sort of general film apathy or even a general mood problem; I certainly had something to say about Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, which I also saw recently. As I said, Hugo is definitely worth watching, if for nothing else, for the parallel between the celebration of the birth of the moving image and Scorsese's exploration into 3D cinematography. But something is missing, either in the film or in me, and I can't figure out what.
So what is an amateur reviewer to do?
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy
I saw Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy a few days ago, and I'm frankly, shocked that this wasn't up for Best Picture or Cinematography.
Okay, okay, I promise from here on out I'll only talk about it on its own merit. Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is incredibly dense and sometimes confusing, but it's definitely worth it to stick with it. The premise is simple: In the middle of the Cold War, George Smiley, a former spy, is pulled out of retirement to find a mole within the British Secret Intelligence Service, referred to as 'the Circus', after the chief dies. The story is, of course, much more complicated, with a web of coverups and secret plans and a failed operation that got an agent shot. We get glimpses of the other spies through flashbacks and impressions of other characters, and there's a point where you have a lot of pieces of the puzzle but no idea how they fit together. I remember getting restless around the 90 minute mark, but in the last half hour everything finally begins to come together.
Tinker Tailor requires careful attention from the viewer, but in return it presents a methodically constructed story. There is no scene without a purpose, no unnecessary shot, no useless line. One thing I noticed is that scenes often ended with a hanging question that is explained by the next scene, instead of a character responding with exposition. Not only does this streamline the dialogue, but it also mirrors a theme of the film; Smiley has been given an unanswered question to solve. There are also small details that may take more than one viewing to pick up on; I didn't realize that Smiley's glasses are different in flashbacks until it was pointed out to me, for instance. The cinematography is also wonderful; there is a scene where Smiley lays in wait for an enemy, and the camera switches to a first person view with the slight bob of each breath.
The last thing I must mention is the superb acting. Gary Oldman is getting the most recognition for his nuanced performance as Smiley, but I think the supporting cast deserves just as much attention. Benedict Cumberbatch and Tom Hardy are wonderful as younger spies, one who risks everything to catch the mole, and the other gone AWOL, but the real star is Mark Strong, whose last scene is perfectly heartbreaking. If you're up for a slow burning, tense film, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is a must see.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Top Whatevers of Whenever
I've only seen a pitiful 16 new releases in theaters this year, so I definitely can't do a top ten list. I also have several films I still have to see (and might not be able to see for a while unless money falls from the sky), and so this is probably not going to be a comprehensive list. But awards season has begun, and I want to highlight some films that I've really liked (even though I've already wrote about most of them).
A documentary I highly recommend: Into the Abyss
I just wrote about this, but I'm still flabbergasted that it kinda came and went without much fanfare. It was one of many documentaries snubbed by the Oscars shortlist, but that honestly seems to happen every single year. I think the grandeur and uniqueness of Herzog's other doc this year, Cave of Forgotten Dreams, simply overpowered the anticipation for another Herzog doc. The death penalty just can't beat out 3D and albino crocodiles (or was it alligators?), and it's a true shame. Not that I'm putting down Cave of Forgotten Dreams, which I also liked, but Into the Abyss had a deeper effect on me and a deeper meaning.
Other documentaries I saw include With Great Power: The Stan Lee Story, which was interesting, but didn't go into as much detail as I would have liked, Connected, which didn't go on the cliched 'everyone is overstimulated' road that I thought it would, but still didn't quite do it for me, and My Perestroika, a charming film about growing up near the end of the Soviet Union, which I wish got more attention. I have no idea if any of these films have or will come out on DVD, but I'd recommend Cave of Forgotten Dreams, and if you can find it, My Perestroika.
A Foreign Film: The Skin I Live In
Shame on me! This is the only foreign film I've seen this year! (Unless you count London River, I suppose, but I'm not sure it actually counts as one.) As I mentioned in earlier posts, I knew absolutely nothing about this film except 1) it starred Antonio Banderas, 2) it was directed by Pedro Almodovar, and 3) the trailer was fucking nuts. None of those things disappointed. Looking back on it, I can see why some other critics called it a mess; the film does have some subplots in the beginning that get pushed aside by the real meat of the story, but to be honest, I don't think it's that big of a deal. I'm sad that it isn't on the Oscar shortlist (I don't even think Spain submitted it), because there are great themes being discussed in a disturbing but effective way. Self-image, identity, the male gaze, and the awareness of the male gaze are themes set up from the beginning, and they're handled impressively.
Life / Death film of the year: Melancholia
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know Tree of Life was beautiful and all, but Melancholia hit its notes much better than The Tree of Life. (Though I think it's a travesty that the Globes passed over both of them for Best Drama. Hey, they had a few American stars! Come on!) Melancholia is one of those films that I'm not sure if I'd watch again, but I'm very glad I saw it. It's easy to write off Justine's sequence as drawn out and boring, and argue that the message is that we all deserve to die, but that's not looking closely enough at it. Why is the planet (and film) named Melancholia? We have a depressed person and a potentially life-threatening planet named after it, and Von Trier has outright said this was his film about his struggle through depression. The wedding sequence is about depression viewed from the outside; Melancholia is a distant point in the sky, and Justine is isolated from the world, something which the other characters cannot understand. She has a family and a husband that loves her, but they either minimize her emotional problems ("Why can't you just be happy?") or shrug them off entirely. In the second half, Melancholia towers over the Earth, and suddenly the feelings of dread and doom that were incomprehensible are perfectly understandable, and Justine almost revels in the "I told you so". Depression is something that's hard to truly understand unless you've gone through it; it really does feel like some unstoppable force is crushing the life out of you, and von Trier is focusing on that feeling along with a proposed Apocalypse.
I mention The Tree of Life with this because I honestly found the film to have a pretty depressing message, and attempts a similarly stylized and cosmic scale as Melancholia. While Tree of Life really is visually stunning, it rung hollow for me in a way that sharply contrast with what I believe was its intended message, whereas Melancholia is intentionally playing into hollowness.
I'm almost positive this won't be at the Oscars; Von Trier's silly antics aside, it's only gotten three nominations and one win for Best Picture (the win being from the European Film Awards, which I don't think have a lot of weight in our corner of the awards races). And while The Tree of Life is a pretty divisive film, I'm pretty sure it was better loved by critics and Malick has more profundity cred than Von Trier. Maybe it could at least be nominated for cinematography?
I can't explain why I liked this but it was awesome: Drive
I'm not entirely sure why I can't articulate what I liked so much about Drive. Maybe because I saw it five months ago? Maybe because its strengths are its stylish hero, stylized world, and Albert Brooks taking a menacing but nuanced turn as a crime boss? I don't know. I can completely understand why it won't get nominated for Best Picture; it's slick genre with nuance, but it's still a genre movie at heart. But I really hope Albert Brooks continues to get recognized, though I'm pretty sure he'll lose to Christopher Plummer. Nicolas Winding Refn also might be a spoiler in Best Director which would be pretty interesting. He got the award over Terrence Malick in Cannes, and with how well Drive is put together, I can see why.
Yo dawg, I heard you like film: Hugo and The Artist
A critic I follow on twitter (I think someone from the AV Club, I can't remember) asked why everyone hates sentimental mush unless it's about film. To me, the answer is obvious: Hugo and The Artist both play with technical elements (3D cinematography and sound editing and aspect ratio) to both enhance the film experience. Hugo definitely has a few storytelling problems, and The Artist is a simple film at heart, but they're more whimsical than sentimental. If I had to place one over the other, The Artist is a better film, but both are worth seeing. I'll eventually write more about Hugo once I see it again in 3D.
As for awards, these two are definite frontrunners, and I think Hugo really deserves Best Cinematography. And while I'd prefer Refn to get Best Director, come on. It's Marty! How could I say no to him?
Wait, I should mention this one too: Certified Copy
So...I kind of lied when I said The Skin I Live In was the only foreign film I had seen this year. For some reason I keep convincing myself I saw Certified Copy last year, and while it did release internationally last year, it didn't come here until 2011. I guess I also forgot to mention it because I'm not really sure I liked it; it's a very well done experiment playing with art and reality (it's all particularly meta), but while it's interesting, I'm not sure how much I enjoyed watching it. If you're looking for a film to make you think, I would still recommend it; I certainly don't regret spending money on it.
And now, because I am an inherently negative and jealous person (not going to even hide it), let's talk about some not so great films.
Director, I am disappoint: A Dangerous Method
Man, what the hell happened here? When it came out I wondered why it never went wide like I expected it to, but after seeing it, I can understand why. Cronenberg (and really, everyone involved) took the easy way out, and threw in some bad storytelling along with it. Viggo Mortenson wasn't bad as Freud, so I can't say that he most definitely did not deserve a supporting actor nomination at the Golden Globes, but it seemed more based on "it's a great actor playing a historical figure!" than anything novel in his performance.
Welp, you get what you pay for and I didn't pay a cent: Another Earth and London River
The cool thing about living in New York is that occasionally, something cool happens for free. The cool thing about being an IFC member is every month or so they kinda flit a secret screening at you. So I didn't pay anything to see Another Earth and London River, and I went in knowing little to nothing about them, which is probably for the best, because I wouldn't spend money on either. Another Earth wastes two good premises (the mirror Earth and a former student fresh out of jail for vehicular manslaughter) to tell something about relationships that you can see coming a mile away. London River tries to say something about terrorism and social tensions, but just ends up as yet another "White People Realize That Minorities Aren't That Different!" film, and we really should all be past that.
Aren't things great now that white people saved everyone else from racism: The Help
I don't want to reiterate my ire for this film, but I'm extremely disappointed that Octavia Spencer won Best Supporting Actress at the Globes this past Sunday over Bernice Bejo. Can we move past the "I'd rather play a maid than be one" stage? I'm truly appalled that it apparently won Best Picture at the Black Film Critics' awards, and if Viola Davis actually wins an Oscar for this, I'm going to throw up in my mouth.
Okay, probably not literally but it really bothers me how much attention The Help is getting like it's deep and meaningful and oh my goooood people were soooo terrible back then good thing we're all best friends now! I feel like I have to go see Pariah or rent Malcolm X in penance or something.
I hope I can get a job or have money dropped on me so I can get a chance to catch up on films, but I may have a chance to see The Descendants soon, which has been getting tons of attention. It even seems like it might be the frontrunner for Best Picture, even above The Artist. Not really sure if I'm going to like it, but who knows? Instincts can be wrong. Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is also coming soon; I can see that for pretty cheap and though it's been ignored for a lot of awards ceremonies lately, I think it's going to be important.
A documentary I highly recommend: Into the Abyss
I just wrote about this, but I'm still flabbergasted that it kinda came and went without much fanfare. It was one of many documentaries snubbed by the Oscars shortlist, but that honestly seems to happen every single year. I think the grandeur and uniqueness of Herzog's other doc this year, Cave of Forgotten Dreams, simply overpowered the anticipation for another Herzog doc. The death penalty just can't beat out 3D and albino crocodiles (or was it alligators?), and it's a true shame. Not that I'm putting down Cave of Forgotten Dreams, which I also liked, but Into the Abyss had a deeper effect on me and a deeper meaning.
Other documentaries I saw include With Great Power: The Stan Lee Story, which was interesting, but didn't go into as much detail as I would have liked, Connected, which didn't go on the cliched 'everyone is overstimulated' road that I thought it would, but still didn't quite do it for me, and My Perestroika, a charming film about growing up near the end of the Soviet Union, which I wish got more attention. I have no idea if any of these films have or will come out on DVD, but I'd recommend Cave of Forgotten Dreams, and if you can find it, My Perestroika.
A Foreign Film: The Skin I Live In
Shame on me! This is the only foreign film I've seen this year! (Unless you count London River, I suppose, but I'm not sure it actually counts as one.) As I mentioned in earlier posts, I knew absolutely nothing about this film except 1) it starred Antonio Banderas, 2) it was directed by Pedro Almodovar, and 3) the trailer was fucking nuts. None of those things disappointed. Looking back on it, I can see why some other critics called it a mess; the film does have some subplots in the beginning that get pushed aside by the real meat of the story, but to be honest, I don't think it's that big of a deal. I'm sad that it isn't on the Oscar shortlist (I don't even think Spain submitted it), because there are great themes being discussed in a disturbing but effective way. Self-image, identity, the male gaze, and the awareness of the male gaze are themes set up from the beginning, and they're handled impressively.
Life / Death film of the year: Melancholia
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know Tree of Life was beautiful and all, but Melancholia hit its notes much better than The Tree of Life. (Though I think it's a travesty that the Globes passed over both of them for Best Drama. Hey, they had a few American stars! Come on!) Melancholia is one of those films that I'm not sure if I'd watch again, but I'm very glad I saw it. It's easy to write off Justine's sequence as drawn out and boring, and argue that the message is that we all deserve to die, but that's not looking closely enough at it. Why is the planet (and film) named Melancholia? We have a depressed person and a potentially life-threatening planet named after it, and Von Trier has outright said this was his film about his struggle through depression. The wedding sequence is about depression viewed from the outside; Melancholia is a distant point in the sky, and Justine is isolated from the world, something which the other characters cannot understand. She has a family and a husband that loves her, but they either minimize her emotional problems ("Why can't you just be happy?") or shrug them off entirely. In the second half, Melancholia towers over the Earth, and suddenly the feelings of dread and doom that were incomprehensible are perfectly understandable, and Justine almost revels in the "I told you so". Depression is something that's hard to truly understand unless you've gone through it; it really does feel like some unstoppable force is crushing the life out of you, and von Trier is focusing on that feeling along with a proposed Apocalypse.
I mention The Tree of Life with this because I honestly found the film to have a pretty depressing message, and attempts a similarly stylized and cosmic scale as Melancholia. While Tree of Life really is visually stunning, it rung hollow for me in a way that sharply contrast with what I believe was its intended message, whereas Melancholia is intentionally playing into hollowness.
I'm almost positive this won't be at the Oscars; Von Trier's silly antics aside, it's only gotten three nominations and one win for Best Picture (the win being from the European Film Awards, which I don't think have a lot of weight in our corner of the awards races). And while The Tree of Life is a pretty divisive film, I'm pretty sure it was better loved by critics and Malick has more profundity cred than Von Trier. Maybe it could at least be nominated for cinematography?
I can't explain why I liked this but it was awesome: Drive
I'm not entirely sure why I can't articulate what I liked so much about Drive. Maybe because I saw it five months ago? Maybe because its strengths are its stylish hero, stylized world, and Albert Brooks taking a menacing but nuanced turn as a crime boss? I don't know. I can completely understand why it won't get nominated for Best Picture; it's slick genre with nuance, but it's still a genre movie at heart. But I really hope Albert Brooks continues to get recognized, though I'm pretty sure he'll lose to Christopher Plummer. Nicolas Winding Refn also might be a spoiler in Best Director which would be pretty interesting. He got the award over Terrence Malick in Cannes, and with how well Drive is put together, I can see why.
Yo dawg, I heard you like film: Hugo and The Artist
A critic I follow on twitter (I think someone from the AV Club, I can't remember) asked why everyone hates sentimental mush unless it's about film. To me, the answer is obvious: Hugo and The Artist both play with technical elements (3D cinematography and sound editing and aspect ratio) to both enhance the film experience. Hugo definitely has a few storytelling problems, and The Artist is a simple film at heart, but they're more whimsical than sentimental. If I had to place one over the other, The Artist is a better film, but both are worth seeing. I'll eventually write more about Hugo once I see it again in 3D.
As for awards, these two are definite frontrunners, and I think Hugo really deserves Best Cinematography. And while I'd prefer Refn to get Best Director, come on. It's Marty! How could I say no to him?
Wait, I should mention this one too: Certified Copy
So...I kind of lied when I said The Skin I Live In was the only foreign film I had seen this year. For some reason I keep convincing myself I saw Certified Copy last year, and while it did release internationally last year, it didn't come here until 2011. I guess I also forgot to mention it because I'm not really sure I liked it; it's a very well done experiment playing with art and reality (it's all particularly meta), but while it's interesting, I'm not sure how much I enjoyed watching it. If you're looking for a film to make you think, I would still recommend it; I certainly don't regret spending money on it.
And now, because I am an inherently negative and jealous person (not going to even hide it), let's talk about some not so great films.
Director, I am disappoint: A Dangerous Method
Man, what the hell happened here? When it came out I wondered why it never went wide like I expected it to, but after seeing it, I can understand why. Cronenberg (and really, everyone involved) took the easy way out, and threw in some bad storytelling along with it. Viggo Mortenson wasn't bad as Freud, so I can't say that he most definitely did not deserve a supporting actor nomination at the Golden Globes, but it seemed more based on "it's a great actor playing a historical figure!" than anything novel in his performance.
Welp, you get what you pay for and I didn't pay a cent: Another Earth and London River
The cool thing about living in New York is that occasionally, something cool happens for free. The cool thing about being an IFC member is every month or so they kinda flit a secret screening at you. So I didn't pay anything to see Another Earth and London River, and I went in knowing little to nothing about them, which is probably for the best, because I wouldn't spend money on either. Another Earth wastes two good premises (the mirror Earth and a former student fresh out of jail for vehicular manslaughter) to tell something about relationships that you can see coming a mile away. London River tries to say something about terrorism and social tensions, but just ends up as yet another "White People Realize That Minorities Aren't That Different!" film, and we really should all be past that.
Aren't things great now that white people saved everyone else from racism: The Help
I don't want to reiterate my ire for this film, but I'm extremely disappointed that Octavia Spencer won Best Supporting Actress at the Globes this past Sunday over Bernice Bejo. Can we move past the "I'd rather play a maid than be one" stage? I'm truly appalled that it apparently won Best Picture at the Black Film Critics' awards, and if Viola Davis actually wins an Oscar for this, I'm going to throw up in my mouth.
Okay, probably not literally but it really bothers me how much attention The Help is getting like it's deep and meaningful and oh my goooood people were soooo terrible back then good thing we're all best friends now! I feel like I have to go see Pariah or rent Malcolm X in penance or something.
I hope I can get a job or have money dropped on me so I can get a chance to catch up on films, but I may have a chance to see The Descendants soon, which has been getting tons of attention. It even seems like it might be the frontrunner for Best Picture, even above The Artist. Not really sure if I'm going to like it, but who knows? Instincts can be wrong. Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is also coming soon; I can see that for pretty cheap and though it's been ignored for a lot of awards ceremonies lately, I think it's going to be important.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Why I like Amadeus despite deriding the costume drama genre
Alright, I am going to say this right now: I have a horrible bias against costume dramas. To me they’re all about repressed rich people opressed by societal norms and there’s always someone who must marry someone else even though they are in love with another person oh no! And there are affairs and shame and it’s all supposed to be super intruiging and maybe a war or some other historical event comes around and messes everything up or there’s some sultry affair and it’s all very dignified with British accents. I’m sure this is completely unfair and somewhat inaccurate, but I just see costume dramas as everyone falling in love with Poofy Dress Eras and assuming that’s a signifier of a Prestigous Movie with Pretigious British Actors, and I’m sick of it.
And yet, despite all this bitching, one of my favorite movies is an Oscar-winning costume drama. How could the person who just wrote that bullshit above have fallen in love with a two and a half hour Poofy Dress Film in middle school? There are two reasons I can think of.
The first being that Amadeus doesn’t have the classic elements of repression or restrictive society or even forbidden love at all. Sure, Salieri has his vow of chastity and unrequited love for his muse, but the entire point of the film is that society seems to bend over backwards for Mozart. The only obstacles caused by society are the ones that Salieri takes advantage of to bring down Mozart. Mozart supposedly has sultry affairs, but it’s not dwelled upon or treated as particularly scandalous for anyone but Salieri. And what’s presented as Serious Business isn’t as much political standing as the understandable and real feelings of Salieri.
And that brings me to the second reason: the actual themes of the film apply to any time and anyone. Amadeus is about two things: inferiority and jealousy. Who hasn’t met someone like Tom Hulce’s Mozart; someone who effortlessly beats you at whatever you do best, who seems to get all the luck and attention? There’s always that one person in school who aces the test everyone else bombed, the one person at work who doesn’t screw up a single thing, and the worst part is when they’re just so fucking nice about it. Salieri sees Mozart, this goofy looking lowbrow kid, and can’t believe that his best efforts pale in comparison to Mozart’s work. Why is he better than me, me who has made music my life’s work, he asks, and that’s something that people will always be asking. Why are things harder for me than for that guy? Why can’t I do as well as everyone else? When will I get my turn in the spotlight? No matter what the society, time, country, economic or social status, everyone has or will have those feelings at some point in their lives. I had felt it before when I was a fourth or fifth grader watching Amadeus in parts in music class, and it’s still relevant to me as a twenty-something.
Of course, there’s more to the film than just the themes. F. Murray Abraham delivers an amazing performance that lets us see ourselves in Salieri, and Tom Hulce is unforgettable as the perky, crude, obnoxious, and brilliant Mozart. The art direction and costumes are amazing; Mozart’s choice of wigs is a small touch with a surprising amount of meaning, and the cinematography is beautiful. Milos Forman borrowed a lens from Stanley Kubrick so he could shoot almost every scene without added light, which I can tell you is extremely impressive. The way the music is incorporated into the film is spot-on as well, and it all weaves together to create a truly great film.
I can’t imagine how any of the few people who read this wouldn’t have seen this film, but if you haven’t, it’s an absolute must. This clip is pretty late in the film, but it’s my favorite scene, and if this doesn’t impress you, I don’t know what will.
(I will note one thing: unfortunately, the version of Amadeus that’s easiest to get is the Director’s Cut, which is not actually Forman’s cut, but just the film with all the deleted scenes shoved back in. It’s still a great film, but it pads the runtime to about three hours, and the film is perfect without it. The theatrical version is only found on an old release that uses a double sided DVD, which is annoying.)
And yet, despite all this bitching, one of my favorite movies is an Oscar-winning costume drama. How could the person who just wrote that bullshit above have fallen in love with a two and a half hour Poofy Dress Film in middle school? There are two reasons I can think of.
The first being that Amadeus doesn’t have the classic elements of repression or restrictive society or even forbidden love at all. Sure, Salieri has his vow of chastity and unrequited love for his muse, but the entire point of the film is that society seems to bend over backwards for Mozart. The only obstacles caused by society are the ones that Salieri takes advantage of to bring down Mozart. Mozart supposedly has sultry affairs, but it’s not dwelled upon or treated as particularly scandalous for anyone but Salieri. And what’s presented as Serious Business isn’t as much political standing as the understandable and real feelings of Salieri.
And that brings me to the second reason: the actual themes of the film apply to any time and anyone. Amadeus is about two things: inferiority and jealousy. Who hasn’t met someone like Tom Hulce’s Mozart; someone who effortlessly beats you at whatever you do best, who seems to get all the luck and attention? There’s always that one person in school who aces the test everyone else bombed, the one person at work who doesn’t screw up a single thing, and the worst part is when they’re just so fucking nice about it. Salieri sees Mozart, this goofy looking lowbrow kid, and can’t believe that his best efforts pale in comparison to Mozart’s work. Why is he better than me, me who has made music my life’s work, he asks, and that’s something that people will always be asking. Why are things harder for me than for that guy? Why can’t I do as well as everyone else? When will I get my turn in the spotlight? No matter what the society, time, country, economic or social status, everyone has or will have those feelings at some point in their lives. I had felt it before when I was a fourth or fifth grader watching Amadeus in parts in music class, and it’s still relevant to me as a twenty-something.
Of course, there’s more to the film than just the themes. F. Murray Abraham delivers an amazing performance that lets us see ourselves in Salieri, and Tom Hulce is unforgettable as the perky, crude, obnoxious, and brilliant Mozart. The art direction and costumes are amazing; Mozart’s choice of wigs is a small touch with a surprising amount of meaning, and the cinematography is beautiful. Milos Forman borrowed a lens from Stanley Kubrick so he could shoot almost every scene without added light, which I can tell you is extremely impressive. The way the music is incorporated into the film is spot-on as well, and it all weaves together to create a truly great film.
I can’t imagine how any of the few people who read this wouldn’t have seen this film, but if you haven’t, it’s an absolute must. This clip is pretty late in the film, but it’s my favorite scene, and if this doesn’t impress you, I don’t know what will.
(I will note one thing: unfortunately, the version of Amadeus that’s easiest to get is the Director’s Cut, which is not actually Forman’s cut, but just the film with all the deleted scenes shoved back in. It’s still a great film, but it pads the runtime to about three hours, and the film is perfect without it. The theatrical version is only found on an old release that uses a double sided DVD, which is annoying.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)