I have officially moved my blog site over to http://blog.andrewroback.com.
Hope to see you there!
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Ken Burns' "The Civil War": Parts 6-9
Dir. Ken Burns, Est. 360 min., on PBS
So last time, I said I would talk about the film's best and worst aspects.
Best:
Worst:
The conclusion was somewhat bittersweet, and from a historical point of view, focused entirely too much on the great men of history and all but forgot the former slaves. The resolution and much of the introductory portions of the episodes focused on reunion filmstrips and newsreels. While this is fascinating video, the question is justifiably raised: where is the discussion of race and the inequities that persist until our present day.
I'll stand in the camp that this film can't be all things to all people and shouldn't try to treat every aspect of the war, but it still has some notable gaps and omissions.
However, I feel that much can be excused by the fact that this film serves as a progenitor of many modern documentary series. A good question is raised as to whether a film of this length should be expected to address all aspects of an issue; I would argue no. The discretion of the filmmaker is to set the scope, but a justification should be present to defend the scope (in my opinion). We are rarely privileged to enjoy such a justification, and this is no exception.
As a historical primer and stirring film, this film has great merit. For those who argue comprehensiveness of large historical film tomes such as this, I think that this serves as a relic of what was once considered the comprehensive treatment of a subject.
Film (or television miniseries in this case) is no longer king for a treatment of such a large topic. For Burns' upcoming Vietnam war documentary, I hope for much more than a one dimensional approach: utilize the advances in technology to put your message in a more comprehensive domain. Granted this was not possible for this film, but hopefully Burns will advance with the times and deliver his masterpiece in his next work, as this film does not do justice to the potential that he possesses as a filmmaker and "compendiumist" (or whatever word you will use for that function, I couldn't find a better one at this time of night).
8/10
So last time, I said I would talk about the film's best and worst aspects.
Best:
- Stirring Letters Letters from persons in the war to their families, especially Sullivan Ballou's letter to his wife, are tear wrenching.
- Fabulous historical details Among my favorite: Abraham Lincoln handing out presidential appointments after the 1860 election and saying there are not enough tits on the pig to feed the piglets
- The impressive array of photos Whoever did the job of assembling images is to be commended, as there are hundreds, if not thousands, of stunning images compiled in this film.
Worst:
- The range of voice actors With the budget of this film, the number of actors included could have potentially been expanded. Morgan Freeman and Garrison Keeler were forced to do triple duty in some episodes.
- The soundtrack Viewed with intervals between episodes, "Ashokan Farewell," the title track and outro music, would be charming and unique. Viewed in sequence without breaks, it looses its effect after the sixth time, and becomes annoying after the sixteenth time. A sad truth for a beautiful composition.
- The Ken Burn's Effect I know I lauded it in the last review, but it does become a tiresome, predictable strategy, especially in the instances when photographs are reused (in the cases of the major players).
The conclusion was somewhat bittersweet, and from a historical point of view, focused entirely too much on the great men of history and all but forgot the former slaves. The resolution and much of the introductory portions of the episodes focused on reunion filmstrips and newsreels. While this is fascinating video, the question is justifiably raised: where is the discussion of race and the inequities that persist until our present day.
I'll stand in the camp that this film can't be all things to all people and shouldn't try to treat every aspect of the war, but it still has some notable gaps and omissions.
However, I feel that much can be excused by the fact that this film serves as a progenitor of many modern documentary series. A good question is raised as to whether a film of this length should be expected to address all aspects of an issue; I would argue no. The discretion of the filmmaker is to set the scope, but a justification should be present to defend the scope (in my opinion). We are rarely privileged to enjoy such a justification, and this is no exception.
As a historical primer and stirring film, this film has great merit. For those who argue comprehensiveness of large historical film tomes such as this, I think that this serves as a relic of what was once considered the comprehensive treatment of a subject.
Film (or television miniseries in this case) is no longer king for a treatment of such a large topic. For Burns' upcoming Vietnam war documentary, I hope for much more than a one dimensional approach: utilize the advances in technology to put your message in a more comprehensive domain. Granted this was not possible for this film, but hopefully Burns will advance with the times and deliver his masterpiece in his next work, as this film does not do justice to the potential that he possesses as a filmmaker and "compendiumist" (or whatever word you will use for that function, I couldn't find a better one at this time of night).
8/10
Monday, April 25, 2011
Hannah (2011)
Dir. Joe Wright, 111 min., in theaters
I have to admit that having missed out on Atonement (2007), I don't have too much of a basis for critiquing the style of Joe Wright's films (the only other one I've seen being his 2005 Pride and Prejudice). However, after this film, I can say that whatever his style is, I like it.
Hannah (Saoirse Ronan), the daughter of Erik (Eric Bana) is stalked by Erik's former handler, Marissa (Cate Blanchett). And that is about it in terms of plot. Sure there are typical spy developments on who is related to whom and how, but mostly it is just a great chase thriller where the only thing we need to know is that the spymaster wants the rouge agent and his daughter dead.
Spy films in general have too many characters. I was just talking to my students the other day about the minimalist aesthetic, and I think this is a genre that benefits from a few well developed characters. Certainly late act introductions and long screen absences make the plot harder to follow, but they also water down characters and make for a less interesting film. No problems with that issue here, as the few supporting characters fill their temporary niches well and then disappear.
Marissa's character is especially strong in this film, given that she could have easily been swallowed up by Ronan's performance. Cate Blanchett channels a combination of the cold ambition of Tilda Swinton in Michael Clayton (2007), the personal eccentricities of an assassin exemplified by Javier Bardem from No Country for Old Men (2007), and the southern accent of Kira Sedgwick from The Closer (or maybe Jodie Foster from The Silence of the Lambs, but more gutsy).
The film in general reminded my wife and I of Run Lola Run (1998), probably because of the strong female protagonist, but also due to the dance club soundtrack that permeates the film. As nice as this film is to look at, the aural experience is even better. The sound editing was excellent in both the effects department and the soundtrack. I don't recall hearing a single 1970's classic rock hit, which always makes me a happy camper.
Ronan cuts a striking figure as a dangerous girl killer who flashes into moments of adolescent innocence and awkwardness. Her range in this film was impressive, and I now want to see Atonement (2007) all the more for her Academy Award nominated performance.
For every really bad spy film I sit through, there is at least one redeeming entry in the genre which keeps me coming back for more, and this film certainly falls into this category. I almost feel like it makes up for the terrible disappointment of Salt (2010), my last summer film from last year.
8/10
I have to admit that having missed out on Atonement (2007), I don't have too much of a basis for critiquing the style of Joe Wright's films (the only other one I've seen being his 2005 Pride and Prejudice). However, after this film, I can say that whatever his style is, I like it.
Hannah (Saoirse Ronan), the daughter of Erik (Eric Bana) is stalked by Erik's former handler, Marissa (Cate Blanchett). And that is about it in terms of plot. Sure there are typical spy developments on who is related to whom and how, but mostly it is just a great chase thriller where the only thing we need to know is that the spymaster wants the rouge agent and his daughter dead.
Spy films in general have too many characters. I was just talking to my students the other day about the minimalist aesthetic, and I think this is a genre that benefits from a few well developed characters. Certainly late act introductions and long screen absences make the plot harder to follow, but they also water down characters and make for a less interesting film. No problems with that issue here, as the few supporting characters fill their temporary niches well and then disappear.
Marissa's character is especially strong in this film, given that she could have easily been swallowed up by Ronan's performance. Cate Blanchett channels a combination of the cold ambition of Tilda Swinton in Michael Clayton (2007), the personal eccentricities of an assassin exemplified by Javier Bardem from No Country for Old Men (2007), and the southern accent of Kira Sedgwick from The Closer (or maybe Jodie Foster from The Silence of the Lambs, but more gutsy).
The film in general reminded my wife and I of Run Lola Run (1998), probably because of the strong female protagonist, but also due to the dance club soundtrack that permeates the film. As nice as this film is to look at, the aural experience is even better. The sound editing was excellent in both the effects department and the soundtrack. I don't recall hearing a single 1970's classic rock hit, which always makes me a happy camper.
Ronan cuts a striking figure as a dangerous girl killer who flashes into moments of adolescent innocence and awkwardness. Her range in this film was impressive, and I now want to see Atonement (2007) all the more for her Academy Award nominated performance.
For every really bad spy film I sit through, there is at least one redeeming entry in the genre which keeps me coming back for more, and this film certainly falls into this category. I almost feel like it makes up for the terrible disappointment of Salt (2010), my last summer film from last year.
8/10
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Ken Burns' "The Civil War": Parts 1-5
Dir. Ken Burns, Est. 360 min., on PBS
Finding free copies of PBS documentaries, especially the crown jewels of their pledge drive monarchy, is like searching for a needle in a computer virus filled haystack.
Hence, when The Civil War aired in it's entirety over the last week, I fired up my TiVo and prepared to journey back to the time when documentary filmmaking was not for the masses, but for hypernerds and PBS tote-bag-sporting intellectuals.
Documentaries are as old as film, but we live in an era when documentaries enjoy commercial success on par with other major studio releases [citation needed]. Ken Burns was a rock star in the 1990's, only he had worse hair and played his shows over several multi-hour parts in the early evening, on public television, with sepia colored photographs and somber piano music.
The Civil War is a daunting proposition to most documentary lovers because of the length and the fact that it was originally conceived of and aired as a television mini-series. The subject matter, as I was discussing with a colleague the other day, is probably easier to swallow than some other Ken Burns fare: Jazz (2001), Baseball (1994), and the almost disturbingly boring sounding The National Parks: America's Best Idea (2009).
Before I get down to discussing this film, let me talk a bit about what I like about Ken Burns. The man does not give anything a half-assed treatment. Case in point, The Vietnam War, his next project, is not scheduled for release until 2016. In an age where we are patronized by filmmakers telling us that we will learn what we need to know about any given topic in a lean 100 min. film that glosses over debates with 60 second sound bytes and was conceived of and produced in two years, Burns sets the gold standard for complete coverage of a topic: tell the whole story in the time it takes.
Burns' style is now iconic: those of you owning a Mac will recognize the Ken Burns effect in Garage Band, where a partial of a photo is shown and the view gradually pans to the center or focal point (imagine looking at someone's feet in a photo for a hard three seconds, and the view panning upwards to their face and resting for another three seconds). I'd imagine this technique is very useful for creating time for narration voiceover; hence, a short anecdote can be read in total whilst the metaphorical camera pans across the photo.
As a documentary, the film showcases the stunning photographs (and daguerreotypes/other photo precursors) that survived the civil war era largely by luck. After the war was over and the still culturally and racially fractured populace struggled to recover from the collective trauma, many photos were discarded or destroyed out of a desire to forget the war. A famous anecdote recalls finding glass photographic plates as replacement windowpanes in a country greenhouse.
Narration comes from an impressive cast of talented voice actors, including Morgan Freeman (as Frederick Douglass), (begrudgingly) Garrison Keeler, Jeremy Irons, and Sam Waterston (as Abraham Lincoln), who would go on to act in and solidify his role as the quintessential lawyer in the critically acclaimed series I'll Fly Away.
The film is largely a compilation of quotations from an impressive range of sources with occasional interviews with historians, the most prominent being the authoritative historian on the topic, the late Shelby Foote.
Next time I'll address some of the film's greatest moments and a few issues I have.
Finding free copies of PBS documentaries, especially the crown jewels of their pledge drive monarchy, is like searching for a needle in a computer virus filled haystack.
Documentaries are as old as film, but we live in an era when documentaries enjoy commercial success on par with other major studio releases [citation needed]. Ken Burns was a rock star in the 1990's, only he had worse hair and played his shows over several multi-hour parts in the early evening, on public television, with sepia colored photographs and somber piano music.
The Civil War is a daunting proposition to most documentary lovers because of the length and the fact that it was originally conceived of and aired as a television mini-series. The subject matter, as I was discussing with a colleague the other day, is probably easier to swallow than some other Ken Burns fare: Jazz (2001), Baseball (1994), and the almost disturbingly boring sounding The National Parks: America's Best Idea (2009).
Before I get down to discussing this film, let me talk a bit about what I like about Ken Burns. The man does not give anything a half-assed treatment. Case in point, The Vietnam War, his next project, is not scheduled for release until 2016. In an age where we are patronized by filmmakers telling us that we will learn what we need to know about any given topic in a lean 100 min. film that glosses over debates with 60 second sound bytes and was conceived of and produced in two years, Burns sets the gold standard for complete coverage of a topic: tell the whole story in the time it takes.
Burns' style is now iconic: those of you owning a Mac will recognize the Ken Burns effect in Garage Band, where a partial of a photo is shown and the view gradually pans to the center or focal point (imagine looking at someone's feet in a photo for a hard three seconds, and the view panning upwards to their face and resting for another three seconds). I'd imagine this technique is very useful for creating time for narration voiceover; hence, a short anecdote can be read in total whilst the metaphorical camera pans across the photo.
As a documentary, the film showcases the stunning photographs (and daguerreotypes/other photo precursors) that survived the civil war era largely by luck. After the war was over and the still culturally and racially fractured populace struggled to recover from the collective trauma, many photos were discarded or destroyed out of a desire to forget the war. A famous anecdote recalls finding glass photographic plates as replacement windowpanes in a country greenhouse.
Narration comes from an impressive cast of talented voice actors, including Morgan Freeman (as Frederick Douglass), (begrudgingly) Garrison Keeler, Jeremy Irons, and Sam Waterston (as Abraham Lincoln), who would go on to act in and solidify his role as the quintessential lawyer in the critically acclaimed series I'll Fly Away.
The film is largely a compilation of quotations from an impressive range of sources with occasional interviews with historians, the most prominent being the authoritative historian on the topic, the late Shelby Foote.
Next time I'll address some of the film's greatest moments and a few issues I have.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Copyright Criminals (2009)
Dirs. Benjamin Franzen & Kembrew McLeod, 65 min.
I don't claim to be a gentleman who knows much about music. In college, I kept my ear to the ground so to speak, did my share of downloading, listened to the local shows on my college radio station, etc. I even made a point of going to shows with bands I had never heard of, purchasing tickets to showcases and actually showing up for the five or six opening acts. I worked long hours affixing barcodes to disintegrating library books at $5.65/hr, but my time was not complete torture as I had my many CD's that I lugged around all day (bad bad days at work were when I forgot headphones).
Grad school has turned me into an old man recluse who barely has time to watch the odd hockey game on TV whilst simultaneously responding to student emails. As such, I haven't been to a show in well over two years, and about the closest I get to a showcase is my last.fm account. I wouldn't even really know who to buy tickets to go see, unless I heard them on Sound Opinions. Likewise, grad school has left me heavily impoverished, and concert tickets no longer cost $14 with $3 beers once you get there. Going to see a band that I marginally like is financially infeasible, and seeing a band that I really want to see is usually out of my price range.
Hence, my relationship with music sadly now involves me sitting at my desk on a Saturday night, writing a blog entry on a film that discusses the legal issues of sampling. F....M....L.....
On a brighter note, Copyright Criminals is an exceptional documentary that actually provides a great deal of information about the origins and legal issues surrounding sampling. However, I highly recommend watching the film, then listening to the interview with Kembrew McLeod on Sound Opinions to get a fuller picture of the issues surrounding sampling and the music industry.
One nagging question that I have always wondered about is how artists can, in good conscience, produce something like "Come With Me" (Puff Daddy, when he was still called that) or "Wild Wild West" (Will Smith). I always assumed that large amounts of cash money payouts combined with Hollywood style hitmaking formulae were the culprit. Turns out that the complicated procedure and large financial obligations associated with clearing samples and avoiding copyright lawsuits have turned musicians into lazy, unimaginative cashgrabbers who latch onto a hook from a popular music hit, then loop it behind their tired ass rhymes. While that doesn't excuse those songs (nothing can), it does explain a lot about why we don't see anything inventive done by major label recording artists in the area of samples (e.g. past efforts from Beastie Boys, De la Soul, Greg Gillis, Danger Mouse).
The film itself tries to represent the opposite perspective that artists who sample are stealing from more talented artists, and I'll give the filmmakers props for trying to show both sides. Sampling is an area where the devil's advocate seems really out of step with the way art works. While the anti-sampling side ends up looking bad, they are allowed to voice their perspective in a way where they don't look insane, which is refreshing for a documentary produced in the last decade. You only have to look at Michael Moore to see how documentary filmmakers tend to slam their agenda over the viewers head and use their privileged position as the final editor to make the opposition look like a bunch of fools.
8/10
As a side note, I also watched the film Chain Reaction (1996). Even though that film is kind of dated and cheesy, the underlying message of the hyper-commercial nature of capitalism was a decent compliment to Copyright Criminals.
I don't claim to be a gentleman who knows much about music. In college, I kept my ear to the ground so to speak, did my share of downloading, listened to the local shows on my college radio station, etc. I even made a point of going to shows with bands I had never heard of, purchasing tickets to showcases and actually showing up for the five or six opening acts. I worked long hours affixing barcodes to disintegrating library books at $5.65/hr, but my time was not complete torture as I had my many CD's that I lugged around all day (bad bad days at work were when I forgot headphones).
Grad school has turned me into an old man recluse who barely has time to watch the odd hockey game on TV whilst simultaneously responding to student emails. As such, I haven't been to a show in well over two years, and about the closest I get to a showcase is my last.fm account. I wouldn't even really know who to buy tickets to go see, unless I heard them on Sound Opinions. Likewise, grad school has left me heavily impoverished, and concert tickets no longer cost $14 with $3 beers once you get there. Going to see a band that I marginally like is financially infeasible, and seeing a band that I really want to see is usually out of my price range.
Hence, my relationship with music sadly now involves me sitting at my desk on a Saturday night, writing a blog entry on a film that discusses the legal issues of sampling. F....M....L.....
On a brighter note, Copyright Criminals is an exceptional documentary that actually provides a great deal of information about the origins and legal issues surrounding sampling. However, I highly recommend watching the film, then listening to the interview with Kembrew McLeod on Sound Opinions to get a fuller picture of the issues surrounding sampling and the music industry.
One nagging question that I have always wondered about is how artists can, in good conscience, produce something like "Come With Me" (Puff Daddy, when he was still called that) or "Wild Wild West" (Will Smith). I always assumed that large amounts of cash money payouts combined with Hollywood style hitmaking formulae were the culprit. Turns out that the complicated procedure and large financial obligations associated with clearing samples and avoiding copyright lawsuits have turned musicians into lazy, unimaginative cashgrabbers who latch onto a hook from a popular music hit, then loop it behind their tired ass rhymes. While that doesn't excuse those songs (nothing can), it does explain a lot about why we don't see anything inventive done by major label recording artists in the area of samples (e.g. past efforts from Beastie Boys, De la Soul, Greg Gillis, Danger Mouse).
The film itself tries to represent the opposite perspective that artists who sample are stealing from more talented artists, and I'll give the filmmakers props for trying to show both sides. Sampling is an area where the devil's advocate seems really out of step with the way art works. While the anti-sampling side ends up looking bad, they are allowed to voice their perspective in a way where they don't look insane, which is refreshing for a documentary produced in the last decade. You only have to look at Michael Moore to see how documentary filmmakers tend to slam their agenda over the viewers head and use their privileged position as the final editor to make the opposition look like a bunch of fools.
8/10
As a side note, I also watched the film Chain Reaction (1996). Even though that film is kind of dated and cheesy, the underlying message of the hyper-commercial nature of capitalism was a decent compliment to Copyright Criminals.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Takin' you to school! La journée de la jupe (en: Skirt Day) (2008) and Waiting for Superman (2010)
So I have been way too busy these past couple of weeks to write any entries, but I am back on it since it is spring break and I suppose I can spare (waste) an hour or so to write about some films I've seen.
Dir. Jean-Paul Lilienfield, 87 min., at a free screening, French with English subtitles
Just as a lead in, I was talking tonight about two different types of education films that are common in our society. In category the first, films where a white teacher starts a job at an "inner city" school (with all of the negative connotations that our society associates with that pejorative term) and the white teacher eventually teaches black and Latino troublemakers that life is oh so much sweeter when you embrace white, middle-class value systems--examples: Freedom Writers (2007), Dangerous Minds (1995). In category the second, films where a beleaguered high school teacher takes brutal revenge on the nogoodnik students by transgressing the boundaries of a professional educator, mainly in the form of hitting, intimidating, and even killing the students--examples: One Eight Seven (1997), The Substitute (1996).
Skirt Day is a little from category one and a little from category two, minus the stupidness. In fact, the only comparison between the former films and the later is that Skirt Day highlights how smart films can be that cover the tightly intertwined factors of societal and classroom tensions. Skirt Day, as one of my friends at the screening said, could take place in any country because of the universal nature of the problems that students, teachers, and administrators face: problems of racial tensions, misogyny, classroom and street gang violence, gun control, teacher burnout, administrative unresponsiveness, etc. etc.
Sonia (Isabelle Adjani), an overworked and unappreciated teacher, receives no respect from the foul-mouthed students in her drama class. While students are harassing the poor volunteers who actually try to participate, Sonia notices two students acting suspiciously in the back of the classroom. She approaches them and confiscates Mouss' (Yann Ebonge) backpack, and in the struggle a handgun falls to the floor, which Sonia picks up. Mouss tries to wrest the gun away, a shot goes off, and Sonia ends up as a hostage taker, simultaneously teaching a class on Molière at gunpoint while negotiating to voice her grievances with the teaching system and the rampant misogyny and violence afforded female teachers and students in her school.
Our guest speaker, a student from France who prepared an excellent discussion session, talked about some of the cultural values and ideas that this film seeks to comment on, including the sensitive nature of immigration, the concentration of poverty in Parisian suburbs, and also some positives about the French education system as well (including their strict adherence to the separation of church and state).
For anyone who is an educator or has volunteered in schools (especially in Chicago), you might be very familiar with some of the challenges and frustrations the anti-hero Sonia faces in this film. There was some commentary on whether the situations portrayed in the film (e.g. vulgar language, classroom violence, screaming arguments between teacher and student) are commonplace or artistic license, amplified to drive home a point. For anyone who has been in CPS and seen not just the triumphs, but also the grinding reality of the daily force-of-will showdowns between students, teachers, and administrators, this film is an education in how public schooling truly is a difficult and consuming endeavor, and how a school environment free of such distractions and dangers is a blessing to those fortunate to experience it, not, as our society sometimes likes to believe, a public guarantee for all.
9/10
Dir. Davis Guggenheim, 111 min.
In yet another in a string of slick documentaries targeted for moviegoers who feel just enough compulsion to try to learn something, but lacking the fortitude to sit through a documentary film that doesn't have lots of animation segues, Waiting for Superman will tell you about the problems in our education system.
I'm not going to once again open up the "what makes a documentary film work" can of worms, but this film doesn't have it. That's not to say that there is not a lot of great stuff buried in this film.
Here's what works: interviews with innovative educators who are trying new things like Geoffrey Canada and Michelle Rhee. Narratives of students and parents struggling to obtain a good education, in their own words.
Here's what doesn't: bossy voiceovers accompanied by what amounts to cutesy educational cartoons, cramming meaningless statistics and visualizations down our throat. Here's a stat: 60 percent of the time, 100 percent of your audience either isn't paying attention or knows enough about rudimentary descriptive statistics to know that your stats are garbage filler designed to fog up the mind of the viewer. Just leave the infographics at home please.
Still, the interesting discussion about educational reform, societal factors that impact childhood education (which is everything), and a different take on teachers unions (which is no doubt very unpopular right now) make this film worth seeing. I won't get into my union opinions, but there are negative sides that deserve exploration, and this film gives a somewhat unbiased platform for those issues.
I meant to write about this film a couple of weeks ago when I saw it, but totally forgot. However, I remember enjoying it quite a bit and thinking that it was worth the spot in my Netflix cue.
7/10
That's all for this week friends. I will hopefully be writing at least two or three more times this semester, but who can say...
La journée de la jupe (en: Skirt Day) (2008)
Dir. Jean-Paul Lilienfield, 87 min., at a free screening, French with English subtitles
Just as a lead in, I was talking tonight about two different types of education films that are common in our society. In category the first, films where a white teacher starts a job at an "inner city" school (with all of the negative connotations that our society associates with that pejorative term) and the white teacher eventually teaches black and Latino troublemakers that life is oh so much sweeter when you embrace white, middle-class value systems--examples: Freedom Writers (2007), Dangerous Minds (1995). In category the second, films where a beleaguered high school teacher takes brutal revenge on the nogoodnik students by transgressing the boundaries of a professional educator, mainly in the form of hitting, intimidating, and even killing the students--examples: One Eight Seven (1997), The Substitute (1996).
Skirt Day is a little from category one and a little from category two, minus the stupidness. In fact, the only comparison between the former films and the later is that Skirt Day highlights how smart films can be that cover the tightly intertwined factors of societal and classroom tensions. Skirt Day, as one of my friends at the screening said, could take place in any country because of the universal nature of the problems that students, teachers, and administrators face: problems of racial tensions, misogyny, classroom and street gang violence, gun control, teacher burnout, administrative unresponsiveness, etc. etc.
Sonia (Isabelle Adjani), an overworked and unappreciated teacher, receives no respect from the foul-mouthed students in her drama class. While students are harassing the poor volunteers who actually try to participate, Sonia notices two students acting suspiciously in the back of the classroom. She approaches them and confiscates Mouss' (Yann Ebonge) backpack, and in the struggle a handgun falls to the floor, which Sonia picks up. Mouss tries to wrest the gun away, a shot goes off, and Sonia ends up as a hostage taker, simultaneously teaching a class on Molière at gunpoint while negotiating to voice her grievances with the teaching system and the rampant misogyny and violence afforded female teachers and students in her school.
Our guest speaker, a student from France who prepared an excellent discussion session, talked about some of the cultural values and ideas that this film seeks to comment on, including the sensitive nature of immigration, the concentration of poverty in Parisian suburbs, and also some positives about the French education system as well (including their strict adherence to the separation of church and state).
For anyone who is an educator or has volunteered in schools (especially in Chicago), you might be very familiar with some of the challenges and frustrations the anti-hero Sonia faces in this film. There was some commentary on whether the situations portrayed in the film (e.g. vulgar language, classroom violence, screaming arguments between teacher and student) are commonplace or artistic license, amplified to drive home a point. For anyone who has been in CPS and seen not just the triumphs, but also the grinding reality of the daily force-of-will showdowns between students, teachers, and administrators, this film is an education in how public schooling truly is a difficult and consuming endeavor, and how a school environment free of such distractions and dangers is a blessing to those fortunate to experience it, not, as our society sometimes likes to believe, a public guarantee for all.
9/10
Waiting for Superman (2010)
Dir. Davis Guggenheim, 111 min.
In yet another in a string of slick documentaries targeted for moviegoers who feel just enough compulsion to try to learn something, but lacking the fortitude to sit through a documentary film that doesn't have lots of animation segues, Waiting for Superman will tell you about the problems in our education system.
I'm not going to once again open up the "what makes a documentary film work" can of worms, but this film doesn't have it. That's not to say that there is not a lot of great stuff buried in this film.
Here's what works: interviews with innovative educators who are trying new things like Geoffrey Canada and Michelle Rhee. Narratives of students and parents struggling to obtain a good education, in their own words.
Here's what doesn't: bossy voiceovers accompanied by what amounts to cutesy educational cartoons, cramming meaningless statistics and visualizations down our throat. Here's a stat: 60 percent of the time, 100 percent of your audience either isn't paying attention or knows enough about rudimentary descriptive statistics to know that your stats are garbage filler designed to fog up the mind of the viewer. Just leave the infographics at home please.
Still, the interesting discussion about educational reform, societal factors that impact childhood education (which is everything), and a different take on teachers unions (which is no doubt very unpopular right now) make this film worth seeing. I won't get into my union opinions, but there are negative sides that deserve exploration, and this film gives a somewhat unbiased platform for those issues.
I meant to write about this film a couple of weeks ago when I saw it, but totally forgot. However, I remember enjoying it quite a bit and thinking that it was worth the spot in my Netflix cue.
7/10
That's all for this week friends. I will hopefully be writing at least two or three more times this semester, but who can say...
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Oscar Nominated Film Roundup (Part One?)
So I am going to try to watch as many Oscar nominated films as possible before the big day two weeks from now. Who knows what the future will bring in terms of my schedule, however, so I may not get to blog about it. If all goes well, I will be able to write at least one more post which will mean I've had time to watch at least one or two more films before the big night.
The King's Speech (2010)
Dir. Tom Hooper, 121 min., in theaters
Hooper is not stranger to period pieces, directing two period television series that involve the personal trials and tribulations of great men and women of history. I was fortunate to catch a bit of Terry Gross' interview with Tom Hooper and it may have biased my viewing of the film since Colin Firth's (King George VI, "Bertie") method approach to embodying the character and speech manner of George VI was fascinating. The big buzz in method acting this year centered around Natalie Portman in Black Swan and Christian Bale in The Fighter, but Firth deserves at least as much if not more credit for his performance in this film.
In a nutshell, George VI (Firth) becomes king of England in the period leading up to WWII after his self-absorbed and definitively un-Royal brother Edward VIII (Guy Pierce) abdicates to marry a divorcee. George's wife, Elizabeth (Helena Bonham Carter) arranges the help of a speech therapist, Lionel Louge (Geoffrey Rush) to help remedy George's debilitating stammer which prevents him from confidently performing his functions as the figurehead of British society.
The film benefits from an inspiring real life story, and the storytelling within the film keeps a brisk pace and lends a dire gravity to what would ordinarily be yet another Oscar-bait, palace intrigue story. Rush was much maligned for chewing up the scenery in this film, but I found his performance to be within the bounds of the character, whose flamboyant therapeutic methods were a perfect match for the actor. Touching moments abounded throughout, and I found myself genuinely in suspense of the outcome and desperately rooting for his success.
An additional bonus was the gorgeous cinematography. Most every shot was a visual treat. This would ordinarily strike me as a film that need not be seen in theaters, but viewing this film at home will not do it justice. In a bit of cinematic irony, we see characters in the film spacing themselves out from microphones only to have the camera bossily push its way into the faces of Firth and Rush. Dividing the screen into thirds, the film presents close ups that juxtapose visually intriguing patterned backdrops with Firth's (and Rush's) pained facial expressions. One of my favorite releases of 2010.
9/10
The Social Network (2010)
Dir. David Fincher, 120 min., on DVD
Two things: First, just because it's about Facebook doesn't mean it will be interesting or that I'll care. Second, no one talks like this in real life.
Going from a touching rendition of one man's brutally difficult struggle to be heard to a Aaron Sorkin script hardly seems fair to this film, but life isn't usually fair, as the characters of The Social Network find out.
If you have to explain to me why I should believe that the dialogue you're presenting to me is believable as human intelligible speech then perhaps it needs to be toned down ("Having a conversation with you is exhausting. It's like dating a stairmaster"--just one instance of many awkwardly explanatory lines). If Sorkin has tried to prove one thing with his writing, it's that people hash out ideas in fast-paced, borderline maniacal speech sprints that shove rapid-fire witty retorts down your throat. Putting my dislike of Sorkin's view of the world aside (if I can), the film still was a disappointment to me, perhaps due to excessive buildup.
The Social Network is less the story of Facebook and more the story of Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg), and the film really struggles to come to some conclusions about his character. The events that happen throughout the course of the film were mostly window dressing for a character analysis of, as the film's closing captions tell us, the world's youngest billionaire. As such, everything has to be extreme: extreme work sessions, extreme Harvard snobbery, extreme coincidences (Zuckerberg happens to move in next door to Sean Parker, Napster creator played well by Justin Timberlake) and, of course, extreme partying (a zip line from the chimney into the pool, really? It's like a Mountain Dew commercial, a beverage which was product placed right into the movie, EXTREEEEEMMMMEEEEE DUDE!).
In a very non-critical appraisal, I just wasn't feeling the film. I again admit that I dislike Sorkin's unique style of writing, but that wasn't the only thing bothering me. Most of the reviews I read/heard were praising this film for making a deposition interesting, but it just wasn't. The two depositions could have been struck from the film for all I care, as the storyline proceeded in chronological order anyway and didn't need any added layers of commentary telling me when to feel what. Why were they included? I guess for more Zuckerberg character development.
Was the timing right for a biopic of Zuckerberg either? Where is this source material coming from? Like the litigators in the film, is someone picking through the Harvard Crimson for this stuff? There were a lot of wasted opportunities for commentary on the ways that Facebook has changed our lives (with the notable exception of a great relationship status message bit). This film was less a study of the triumph of a megalithic social networking site than a character study on why Mark Zuckerberg is an ass (with one lawyer at the end regrettably spelling it all out for us: "You're not an asshole...you're just trying to so hard to be one"). I don't know many billionaires, but I'm guessing that being an ass is par for the course, and I didn't need a two hour lesson in why that's the case.
6/10
Restrepo (2010)
Dirs. Tim Hetherington, Sebastian Junger, 93 min. (unofficial), on Netflix Instant
In The Things They Carried, Tim O'Brien writes that "a true war story isn't moral." Hetherington and Junger's Restrepo tries to buck that trend by interjecting a lot of sentimentality and positive story trajectories into their film. However, as a documentary, whose to say that isn't the way the story went?
Firstly, the only way you can really review a film like this and criticize the artistic merits of the film is to first separate the subject from the presentation. There's no shortage of respect for the sacrifice of armed service members here, which is really the only way you can tell the story. However, along with an accurate representation of modern warfare and the struggles that our soldiers face fighting in Afghanistan, there are some disturbing undertones of how the story is presented.
This film comes off like a gnomon, leaving me with a sense that something more profound is missing from the presentation; perhaps out of respect for the sacrifices made by the soldiers, or perhaps to mitigate the senselessness of war. In either case, the filmmakers do themselves no favors by holding back. Surely the brutality of war is well represented in the film, but the sanctimonious justifications of the soldiers is not, as one would expect, thrown into sharp relief with the hopelessness of their fight. It seems like everything the soldiers in this film built will fall apart, but the film tries to go out on a high note, which I felt was undeserved given the climate surrounding the Afghanistan war this year.
I'm not sure my full attention was arrested by this film either. In terms of subject matter, the film comes off as disorganized and thrown together (dates might have been helpful in laying out the storyline). Perhaps this was a commentary on disorganized nature of human conflict and war.
However, the film ultimately redeems itself in the raw footage that the intrepid filmmakers were able to capture and put together. Funded by Nat Geo, this film (as in all of their projects) has a "being there" quality that makes it worth the experience. As a closing thought, this really is an experiential documentary, focusing on putting you in the shoes of the subjects and leaving the explication of the issues for post-viewing homework.
6/10
The King's Speech (2010)
Dir. Tom Hooper, 121 min., in theaters
Hooper is not stranger to period pieces, directing two period television series that involve the personal trials and tribulations of great men and women of history. I was fortunate to catch a bit of Terry Gross' interview with Tom Hooper and it may have biased my viewing of the film since Colin Firth's (King George VI, "Bertie") method approach to embodying the character and speech manner of George VI was fascinating. The big buzz in method acting this year centered around Natalie Portman in Black Swan and Christian Bale in The Fighter, but Firth deserves at least as much if not more credit for his performance in this film.
In a nutshell, George VI (Firth) becomes king of England in the period leading up to WWII after his self-absorbed and definitively un-Royal brother Edward VIII (Guy Pierce) abdicates to marry a divorcee. George's wife, Elizabeth (Helena Bonham Carter) arranges the help of a speech therapist, Lionel Louge (Geoffrey Rush) to help remedy George's debilitating stammer which prevents him from confidently performing his functions as the figurehead of British society.
The film benefits from an inspiring real life story, and the storytelling within the film keeps a brisk pace and lends a dire gravity to what would ordinarily be yet another Oscar-bait, palace intrigue story. Rush was much maligned for chewing up the scenery in this film, but I found his performance to be within the bounds of the character, whose flamboyant therapeutic methods were a perfect match for the actor. Touching moments abounded throughout, and I found myself genuinely in suspense of the outcome and desperately rooting for his success.
An additional bonus was the gorgeous cinematography. Most every shot was a visual treat. This would ordinarily strike me as a film that need not be seen in theaters, but viewing this film at home will not do it justice. In a bit of cinematic irony, we see characters in the film spacing themselves out from microphones only to have the camera bossily push its way into the faces of Firth and Rush. Dividing the screen into thirds, the film presents close ups that juxtapose visually intriguing patterned backdrops with Firth's (and Rush's) pained facial expressions. One of my favorite releases of 2010.
9/10
The Social Network (2010)
Dir. David Fincher, 120 min., on DVD
Two things: First, just because it's about Facebook doesn't mean it will be interesting or that I'll care. Second, no one talks like this in real life.
Going from a touching rendition of one man's brutally difficult struggle to be heard to a Aaron Sorkin script hardly seems fair to this film, but life isn't usually fair, as the characters of The Social Network find out.
If you have to explain to me why I should believe that the dialogue you're presenting to me is believable as human intelligible speech then perhaps it needs to be toned down ("Having a conversation with you is exhausting. It's like dating a stairmaster"--just one instance of many awkwardly explanatory lines). If Sorkin has tried to prove one thing with his writing, it's that people hash out ideas in fast-paced, borderline maniacal speech sprints that shove rapid-fire witty retorts down your throat. Putting my dislike of Sorkin's view of the world aside (if I can), the film still was a disappointment to me, perhaps due to excessive buildup.
The Social Network is less the story of Facebook and more the story of Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg), and the film really struggles to come to some conclusions about his character. The events that happen throughout the course of the film were mostly window dressing for a character analysis of, as the film's closing captions tell us, the world's youngest billionaire. As such, everything has to be extreme: extreme work sessions, extreme Harvard snobbery, extreme coincidences (Zuckerberg happens to move in next door to Sean Parker, Napster creator played well by Justin Timberlake) and, of course, extreme partying (a zip line from the chimney into the pool, really? It's like a Mountain Dew commercial, a beverage which was product placed right into the movie, EXTREEEEEMMMMEEEEE DUDE!).
In a very non-critical appraisal, I just wasn't feeling the film. I again admit that I dislike Sorkin's unique style of writing, but that wasn't the only thing bothering me. Most of the reviews I read/heard were praising this film for making a deposition interesting, but it just wasn't. The two depositions could have been struck from the film for all I care, as the storyline proceeded in chronological order anyway and didn't need any added layers of commentary telling me when to feel what. Why were they included? I guess for more Zuckerberg character development.
Was the timing right for a biopic of Zuckerberg either? Where is this source material coming from? Like the litigators in the film, is someone picking through the Harvard Crimson for this stuff? There were a lot of wasted opportunities for commentary on the ways that Facebook has changed our lives (with the notable exception of a great relationship status message bit). This film was less a study of the triumph of a megalithic social networking site than a character study on why Mark Zuckerberg is an ass (with one lawyer at the end regrettably spelling it all out for us: "You're not an asshole...you're just trying to so hard to be one"). I don't know many billionaires, but I'm guessing that being an ass is par for the course, and I didn't need a two hour lesson in why that's the case.
6/10
Restrepo (2010)
Dirs. Tim Hetherington, Sebastian Junger, 93 min. (unofficial), on Netflix Instant
In The Things They Carried, Tim O'Brien writes that "a true war story isn't moral." Hetherington and Junger's Restrepo tries to buck that trend by interjecting a lot of sentimentality and positive story trajectories into their film. However, as a documentary, whose to say that isn't the way the story went?
Firstly, the only way you can really review a film like this and criticize the artistic merits of the film is to first separate the subject from the presentation. There's no shortage of respect for the sacrifice of armed service members here, which is really the only way you can tell the story. However, along with an accurate representation of modern warfare and the struggles that our soldiers face fighting in Afghanistan, there are some disturbing undertones of how the story is presented.
This film comes off like a gnomon, leaving me with a sense that something more profound is missing from the presentation; perhaps out of respect for the sacrifices made by the soldiers, or perhaps to mitigate the senselessness of war. In either case, the filmmakers do themselves no favors by holding back. Surely the brutality of war is well represented in the film, but the sanctimonious justifications of the soldiers is not, as one would expect, thrown into sharp relief with the hopelessness of their fight. It seems like everything the soldiers in this film built will fall apart, but the film tries to go out on a high note, which I felt was undeserved given the climate surrounding the Afghanistan war this year.
I'm not sure my full attention was arrested by this film either. In terms of subject matter, the film comes off as disorganized and thrown together (dates might have been helpful in laying out the storyline). Perhaps this was a commentary on disorganized nature of human conflict and war.
However, the film ultimately redeems itself in the raw footage that the intrepid filmmakers were able to capture and put together. Funded by Nat Geo, this film (as in all of their projects) has a "being there" quality that makes it worth the experience. As a closing thought, this really is an experiential documentary, focusing on putting you in the shoes of the subjects and leaving the explication of the issues for post-viewing homework.
6/10
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Ip Man (2008)
Dir. Wilson Yip, 106 min., on Netflix Instant
Ip Man tells the story of a Chinese martial arts master, and not the inventor of the Internet Protocol as I was let to believe.
Wow, rereading that first sentence, I sound like a Groupon ad copy writer. All stupidness aside, the film is about a martial artist before and during the Japanese occupation of China during World War II. Ip Man is a master of the fighting style known as Wing Chung (must fight Groupon style joke...argh...can't hold back...as opposed to WANG CHUNG, GET IT, HAW HAW HAW HAW).
At first Ip Man (Donnie Yen) just enjoys the occasional bout with locals, but he eventually starts beating on a traveling group of renegade martial artists that roll into town and defeat every other skilled fighter. That whole sequence is essentially the first half of the film.
Once the Japanese show up, they start pitting soldiers (I assume they're soldiers--it's never fully explained) against former martial arts masters in town to prove once and for all that Japanese fighting styles are superior. There's some buildup over the course of an hour or so, and a subplot that briefly reintroduces some pre-occupation characters, but most of it is window dressing for the final fight between Ip Man and the Japanese general.
In general, the martial arts in the film come off slightly fantastical. I like fighting films, but they are by no means my favorite type of film, so I can't speak with too much authority on historical conventions. I know that samurai films typically have a fantastical element that has something to do with Japanese folklore, but in my experience, fighting films that focus on one particular style tend to be grounded in reality (the very notable exception I can recall is Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000)). This film doesn't so much break the laws of physics as bend them in inexplicable ways: no one is flying from rooftop to rooftop, but there are several Matrix moments in the fight sequences.
The film is semi-biographical, which is a polite euphemism for lightly fictionalized, and what I like to call partially stuffed full of crap that attempts to make it more interesting and condense a person's life history into a contiguous chain of events. Categorizations like that are always worthless anyway, as the film could have been 100% fictional and still worked just as well for anyone who didn't know anything about this man's life, a set of persons of which I am a part. If the film really was semi-biographical, the director might have eliminated one subplot which does practically nothing in terms of character development and spends 20 or so minutes as a setup for the film's conclusion (if you watch or have watched the film, I am talking about the factory subplot).
Weak pacing really sabotages what would otherwise be a perfectly enjoyable film. This film reminded me a great deal of Fearless (2006), which was supposedly Jet Li's final martial arts film, unless you count the seven he has made since then. The pacing in Fearless was superior in that the story had a superstructure that enabled the viewer to anticipate the redemptive arc. It's backdrop as a semi-biographical also worked better in my opinion; this may have had to do with superior character development for the non titular character (which paradoxically leads to better development of the film's subject).
In closing, the real test as I see it for a biopic is did I feel like I learned who the man or woman was by the end. In this case, I don't feel like I understand any more about Ip Man than I could have gleaned from a quick scan of his Wikipedia page.
5/10
Ip Man tells the story of a Chinese martial arts master, and not the inventor of the Internet Protocol as I was let to believe.
Wow, rereading that first sentence, I sound like a Groupon ad copy writer. All stupidness aside, the film is about a martial artist before and during the Japanese occupation of China during World War II. Ip Man is a master of the fighting style known as Wing Chung (must fight Groupon style joke...argh...can't hold back...as opposed to WANG CHUNG, GET IT, HAW HAW HAW HAW).
At first Ip Man (Donnie Yen) just enjoys the occasional bout with locals, but he eventually starts beating on a traveling group of renegade martial artists that roll into town and defeat every other skilled fighter. That whole sequence is essentially the first half of the film.
Once the Japanese show up, they start pitting soldiers (I assume they're soldiers--it's never fully explained) against former martial arts masters in town to prove once and for all that Japanese fighting styles are superior. There's some buildup over the course of an hour or so, and a subplot that briefly reintroduces some pre-occupation characters, but most of it is window dressing for the final fight between Ip Man and the Japanese general.
In general, the martial arts in the film come off slightly fantastical. I like fighting films, but they are by no means my favorite type of film, so I can't speak with too much authority on historical conventions. I know that samurai films typically have a fantastical element that has something to do with Japanese folklore, but in my experience, fighting films that focus on one particular style tend to be grounded in reality (the very notable exception I can recall is Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000)). This film doesn't so much break the laws of physics as bend them in inexplicable ways: no one is flying from rooftop to rooftop, but there are several Matrix moments in the fight sequences.
The film is semi-biographical, which is a polite euphemism for lightly fictionalized, and what I like to call partially stuffed full of crap that attempts to make it more interesting and condense a person's life history into a contiguous chain of events. Categorizations like that are always worthless anyway, as the film could have been 100% fictional and still worked just as well for anyone who didn't know anything about this man's life, a set of persons of which I am a part. If the film really was semi-biographical, the director might have eliminated one subplot which does practically nothing in terms of character development and spends 20 or so minutes as a setup for the film's conclusion (if you watch or have watched the film, I am talking about the factory subplot).
Weak pacing really sabotages what would otherwise be a perfectly enjoyable film. This film reminded me a great deal of Fearless (2006), which was supposedly Jet Li's final martial arts film, unless you count the seven he has made since then. The pacing in Fearless was superior in that the story had a superstructure that enabled the viewer to anticipate the redemptive arc. It's backdrop as a semi-biographical also worked better in my opinion; this may have had to do with superior character development for the non titular character (which paradoxically leads to better development of the film's subject).
In closing, the real test as I see it for a biopic is did I feel like I learned who the man or woman was by the end. In this case, I don't feel like I understand any more about Ip Man than I could have gleaned from a quick scan of his Wikipedia page.
5/10
Saturday, January 29, 2011
The Rite (2011)
Dir. Mikael Håfström, 112 min., in theaters now
After missing out on a week or more of watching new films, I'm back to review a film I had little interest in seeing, The Rite. One would have expected a film dealing with demonic possession and exorcism to have a myriad of potently disturbing visual imagery sufficient to fill at least two hours, but director Mikael Håfström comes up with practically nothing. One of his prior films, 1408 (2007) captured the phantasmagorical spectrum of eternal damnation in a hotel room that is a convergence of malevolent spirits--or as Samuel L. Jackson's character puts it, "an evil f&^%ing room."
The Rite, on the other hand, reads more like a watered down version of The Exorcist (1973), and I would recommend you watch that film instead. Anthony Hopkins gives the film's best performance, but that isn't totally surprising given that the other characters in the film are not given very much to do.
When priest in training Michael Kovac (Colin O'Donoghue) goes to Rome to take part in a course that teaches him how to conduct a proper exorcism (and by extension, extinguish his religious skepticism) he meets with Hopkins' exorcist priest. There's some religious themed debate between the principle characters on whether exorcism is nothing but an antiquated custom that harms mentally ill persons by preventing intervention by the psychiatric community; but like a bad Law and Order episode, the discussions are just factoid-esque talking points from a USA Today infographic that are wadded up and forced into actors mouths to be regurgitated at regular intervals. Chances are, you've already had a more meaningful discussion on the topic in your head while waiting in line for tickets.
In terms of bringing the scary, apart from the occasional jump scene (including the ubiquitous cat-jumping-out-and-snarling) there is not much to speak of, except for a red-eyed demon mule. Keith Phipps, in his review downplays the role of the demon mule too much. If you're watching this film for nothing else, the demon mule is pretty badass. However, you might be disappointed when the mule just stands there and does nothing, especially after the little boy who it has been terrorizing builds the demon mule up with a story about how it's kicking and biting him in his dreams.
The exorcism scenes themselves are spaced much too far apart, meaning we have plenty in the way of boring exposition which bloats the run time well past where it needed to be. Rome, with it's old buildings and narrow streets, could not have looked less scary. The cinematography in this film is a flop, with shots that should be unnerving or strange falling flat on their collective face. The most laughable sequence is in a futuristic situation room where a Vatican priest is operating a high-tech touch screen interface. It was like DiVinci Code meets Transformers.
In my entry on The Fighter I talked about how boxing films are inevitably compared to Rocky, and I would argue that no exorcism film can be discussed without thinking about The Exorcist. There is one cast off line by Hopkins' character which answers the obvious question "How can the characters exist in this world and believably pretend not to know about this film?", but this film doesn't really do anything new for the exorcism subgenre of horror.
By far the most shocking part of this film is that in the course of writing this review, I've discovered that this film has the lowest rating (17%) on RT of any film I have ever written about on this blog. Seeing as I have reviewed gems like The Condemned and Pet Sematary II, I am genuinely stunned. While The Rite is certainly not worth all of the critical badmouthing it received, it's not really worth sitting through either.
5/10
After missing out on a week or more of watching new films, I'm back to review a film I had little interest in seeing, The Rite. One would have expected a film dealing with demonic possession and exorcism to have a myriad of potently disturbing visual imagery sufficient to fill at least two hours, but director Mikael Håfström comes up with practically nothing. One of his prior films, 1408 (2007) captured the phantasmagorical spectrum of eternal damnation in a hotel room that is a convergence of malevolent spirits--or as Samuel L. Jackson's character puts it, "an evil f&^%ing room."
The Rite, on the other hand, reads more like a watered down version of The Exorcist (1973), and I would recommend you watch that film instead. Anthony Hopkins gives the film's best performance, but that isn't totally surprising given that the other characters in the film are not given very much to do.
When priest in training Michael Kovac (Colin O'Donoghue) goes to Rome to take part in a course that teaches him how to conduct a proper exorcism (and by extension, extinguish his religious skepticism) he meets with Hopkins' exorcist priest. There's some religious themed debate between the principle characters on whether exorcism is nothing but an antiquated custom that harms mentally ill persons by preventing intervention by the psychiatric community; but like a bad Law and Order episode, the discussions are just factoid-esque talking points from a USA Today infographic that are wadded up and forced into actors mouths to be regurgitated at regular intervals. Chances are, you've already had a more meaningful discussion on the topic in your head while waiting in line for tickets.
In terms of bringing the scary, apart from the occasional jump scene (including the ubiquitous cat-jumping-out-and-snarling) there is not much to speak of, except for a red-eyed demon mule. Keith Phipps, in his review downplays the role of the demon mule too much. If you're watching this film for nothing else, the demon mule is pretty badass. However, you might be disappointed when the mule just stands there and does nothing, especially after the little boy who it has been terrorizing builds the demon mule up with a story about how it's kicking and biting him in his dreams.
The exorcism scenes themselves are spaced much too far apart, meaning we have plenty in the way of boring exposition which bloats the run time well past where it needed to be. Rome, with it's old buildings and narrow streets, could not have looked less scary. The cinematography in this film is a flop, with shots that should be unnerving or strange falling flat on their collective face. The most laughable sequence is in a futuristic situation room where a Vatican priest is operating a high-tech touch screen interface. It was like DiVinci Code meets Transformers.
In my entry on The Fighter I talked about how boxing films are inevitably compared to Rocky, and I would argue that no exorcism film can be discussed without thinking about The Exorcist. There is one cast off line by Hopkins' character which answers the obvious question "How can the characters exist in this world and believably pretend not to know about this film?", but this film doesn't really do anything new for the exorcism subgenre of horror.
By far the most shocking part of this film is that in the course of writing this review, I've discovered that this film has the lowest rating (17%) on RT of any film I have ever written about on this blog. Seeing as I have reviewed gems like The Condemned and Pet Sematary II, I am genuinely stunned. While The Rite is certainly not worth all of the critical badmouthing it received, it's not really worth sitting through either.
5/10
Saturday, January 15, 2011
What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962)
Dir. Robert Aldrich, 134 min., black and white, on Netflix Instant Watch
I suppose when I think of the 1940's, 50's, and early 60's in cinema, I am usually weary of being bored to death. I know that is really stupid, but that's just the way I feel. Allow me to bore you by elaborating.
As a child, we did not really have television as you might know it today. We had a TV in our family room (a massive cathode ray tube Zenith that had channel buttons reminscient of the buttons you would find on an early touch-tone phone) and a TV in our finished basement (a VHF/UHF television with separate dials for the channels 1-13 and 14-74, or however high the UHF band went). Since we lived in between Chicago and Milwaukee we were able to pick up both city's broadcast channels, but most of the channels that came in clearly were from Chicago. Also, we had a large antenna mounted to our roof that rotated 360 degrees by manipulating a control dial in our living room (it actually looked something like this). We called it an "aerial."
To watch one station or another, the aerial had to be pointed in a very specific direction, which seemed to change based on channel, time of day, and phase of the moon. What all of this meant is that watching a different channel on each TV was relatively pointless since the aerial had to be adjusted for the channel to come in, and my parents were the masters of the aerial control box.
To wit, I mostly watched what my parents watched. Our local public television affiliate, WTTW, used to show a myriad of films from the golden era of Hollywood, but for whatever reason the films that they showed were mostly not what you would call "classics" (maybe they were really short on funds back in the day??).
When we got cable when I was 14 years old, my television life was revolutionized. I used (or perhaps squandered) my new found freedom to watch MTV and endless amounts of hockey games on ESPN2. There was a channel, however, which plagued my existence on family vacations where only one television was available. A channel whose mission must be to inhabit the cultural space that exists as an antithesis to everything hip and cool in the world of a teenager. That channel is Turner Classic Movies.
As a young lad, TCM was the embodiment of everything boring in cinema. When you consider the channel's mission, however, it doesn't and shouldn't bode well for capturing a young audience. They show only gilded era films, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Given the amount of garbage that exists in almost every era of film making (even those prepended with the word "gilded"), you are almost never likely to watch a film that you had the remotest interest in seeing. Also, there is a 99% chance you will start watching in the middle of the film: remember, there were no DVR's in 1994.
However, as I progressed out of my 14 year old "I think everything old is stupid" phase, I started to really appreciate some films from that era. I could name check a few black and white classics that opened my eyes to early era cinema, but I'll save it for later.
If you are weary of entering the black and white era, What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? could be a possible gateway (term admittedly stolen from AV Club's gateways to geekery). The story begins with two children: Baby Jane, a child star (Bettie Davis) and Blanche (Joan Crawford), a successful adult actress. While Blanche has a stellar career as an adult actress, her sister Baby Jane is unable to parley her darling child act into a successful career. After many years of bitterness and jealousy, Baby Jane is responsible for an accident that costs Blanche the use of her legs. As adults, Blanche is a prisoner in her own house and subject to the bitterness and abuse of the emotionally regressive and alcoholic Jane. The film follows their relationship as the tensions between them escalate to violent and dangerous levels.
What really stood out to me in this film was the casting. According to my go to sources (IMDB and Wikipedia) Crawford and Davis didn't much care for each other, and both were actresses whose heyday was well behind them at the time of filming. In an real-life parallel that seems too close to be accidental, Baby Jane takes an ad out in the paper looking for a piano player to revive her act; Davis took an apparently famous work wanted ad out one year prior to the release of this film. The animosity between the two is palpable in nearly every sequence, and Davis' mocking impression of Crawford's line delivery is either scarily good, or, if a voice over was used, an impressive technical trick that elevates what would be an ordinary moment in the film into truly disturbing sequence. The emotionally disturbing appearance of Davis resonates and reminds me of a similar performance by Ellen Burstyn in Requiem for a Dream (2000). Especially disturbing is the soundtrack, which plays off variations of a hauntingly sweet song entitled "I've Written a Letter to Daddy" written for the film. The mix of delusion, frenzy, and hopelessness that Davis brings to her performance of that song as a broken down and embittered late-life failure provides a moment in the film that leaves the view with a singular sense of pity.
The film has quite a few Hitchcockian moments (Rear Window comes immediately to mind as the wheelchair bound Blanche desperately tries to attract the attention of a neighbor). There is also some heavy commentary on the nature of the film industry itself. This film might not pack the same amount of suspense into two hours as some of it's better contemporaries, but it is still relevant and gripping today. If you share my apprehensions about classic film this would be a good place to start working your way into the black and white era.
8/10
I suppose when I think of the 1940's, 50's, and early 60's in cinema, I am usually weary of being bored to death. I know that is really stupid, but that's just the way I feel. Allow me to bore you by elaborating.
As a child, we did not really have television as you might know it today. We had a TV in our family room (a massive cathode ray tube Zenith that had channel buttons reminscient of the buttons you would find on an early touch-tone phone) and a TV in our finished basement (a VHF/UHF television with separate dials for the channels 1-13 and 14-74, or however high the UHF band went). Since we lived in between Chicago and Milwaukee we were able to pick up both city's broadcast channels, but most of the channels that came in clearly were from Chicago. Also, we had a large antenna mounted to our roof that rotated 360 degrees by manipulating a control dial in our living room (it actually looked something like this). We called it an "aerial."
To watch one station or another, the aerial had to be pointed in a very specific direction, which seemed to change based on channel, time of day, and phase of the moon. What all of this meant is that watching a different channel on each TV was relatively pointless since the aerial had to be adjusted for the channel to come in, and my parents were the masters of the aerial control box.
To wit, I mostly watched what my parents watched. Our local public television affiliate, WTTW, used to show a myriad of films from the golden era of Hollywood, but for whatever reason the films that they showed were mostly not what you would call "classics" (maybe they were really short on funds back in the day??).
When we got cable when I was 14 years old, my television life was revolutionized. I used (or perhaps squandered) my new found freedom to watch MTV and endless amounts of hockey games on ESPN2. There was a channel, however, which plagued my existence on family vacations where only one television was available. A channel whose mission must be to inhabit the cultural space that exists as an antithesis to everything hip and cool in the world of a teenager. That channel is Turner Classic Movies.
As a young lad, TCM was the embodiment of everything boring in cinema. When you consider the channel's mission, however, it doesn't and shouldn't bode well for capturing a young audience. They show only gilded era films, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Given the amount of garbage that exists in almost every era of film making (even those prepended with the word "gilded"), you are almost never likely to watch a film that you had the remotest interest in seeing. Also, there is a 99% chance you will start watching in the middle of the film: remember, there were no DVR's in 1994.
However, as I progressed out of my 14 year old "I think everything old is stupid" phase, I started to really appreciate some films from that era. I could name check a few black and white classics that opened my eyes to early era cinema, but I'll save it for later.
If you are weary of entering the black and white era, What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? could be a possible gateway (term admittedly stolen from AV Club's gateways to geekery). The story begins with two children: Baby Jane, a child star (Bettie Davis) and Blanche (Joan Crawford), a successful adult actress. While Blanche has a stellar career as an adult actress, her sister Baby Jane is unable to parley her darling child act into a successful career. After many years of bitterness and jealousy, Baby Jane is responsible for an accident that costs Blanche the use of her legs. As adults, Blanche is a prisoner in her own house and subject to the bitterness and abuse of the emotionally regressive and alcoholic Jane. The film follows their relationship as the tensions between them escalate to violent and dangerous levels.
What really stood out to me in this film was the casting. According to my go to sources (IMDB and Wikipedia) Crawford and Davis didn't much care for each other, and both were actresses whose heyday was well behind them at the time of filming. In an real-life parallel that seems too close to be accidental, Baby Jane takes an ad out in the paper looking for a piano player to revive her act; Davis took an apparently famous work wanted ad out one year prior to the release of this film. The animosity between the two is palpable in nearly every sequence, and Davis' mocking impression of Crawford's line delivery is either scarily good, or, if a voice over was used, an impressive technical trick that elevates what would be an ordinary moment in the film into truly disturbing sequence. The emotionally disturbing appearance of Davis resonates and reminds me of a similar performance by Ellen Burstyn in Requiem for a Dream (2000). Especially disturbing is the soundtrack, which plays off variations of a hauntingly sweet song entitled "I've Written a Letter to Daddy" written for the film. The mix of delusion, frenzy, and hopelessness that Davis brings to her performance of that song as a broken down and embittered late-life failure provides a moment in the film that leaves the view with a singular sense of pity.
The film has quite a few Hitchcockian moments (Rear Window comes immediately to mind as the wheelchair bound Blanche desperately tries to attract the attention of a neighbor). There is also some heavy commentary on the nature of the film industry itself. This film might not pack the same amount of suspense into two hours as some of it's better contemporaries, but it is still relevant and gripping today. If you share my apprehensions about classic film this would be a good place to start working your way into the black and white era.
8/10
Monday, January 3, 2011
To Hell with the critics: I Know What You Did Last Summer (1997)
Dir. Jim Gillespie, 100 min., on Netflix Instant Watch
Right off the bat, I already F-ed up by not watching Scream. Strike one. I planned on watching it on New Year's Eve, but I fell asleep after about thirty minutes since we started it at 1 a.m. or so. But it got me thinking about two things in particular:
1. I watched a lot of movies in the 90's that I only barely remember;
2. I tend to re-watch so called "bad" films, and I usually find them not nearly as bad as I remember.
In any case, I'm starting a feature called To Hell with the critics, where I'll do my best to convince you that the films that critics (and possibly you) hated are much better than you remember. To qualify, a film must score lower than 50 on either RT or Metacritic (or both).
I picked a dandy to start with, 1997's I Know What You Did Last Summer starring Jennifer Love Hewitt, Freddy Prinze Jr., Sarah Michelle Gellar, and Ryan Phillippe. Watching this film, it's hard to believe how much it blatantly rips off of Scream (1996) and how much Urban Legend (1998) rips off from I Know What You Did Last Summer. They are all spinning off the same skein, drinking from the same well, etc.
The plot itself, if you've never seen the film, involves the accidental killing of a man by the four principle actors, and the events leading up to the anniversary of that killing. I remembered the plot being extremely simplistic, but there were actually quite a few nuances that I had missed when I saw the film in theaters 13 years ago.
For all of the exposition we get in most films nowadays, this film is surprisingly light on explanatory material. In fact, if the film has a real flaw (apart from the dreadful line delivery by the principles), it's that the exposition is so poorly handled that when the big reveal comes at the end, it's almost impossible to figure out what is going on unless you were paying very careful attention to the few bits of material that develop the backstory.
In terms of action/suspense sequences, it's no Hitchcock, but the film delivers repeatedly. Take this sequence, which I would rank at least in the top 20 of horror film chase sequences. Underscored by Hoverphonic's eerie "2 Wicky" muted in the background, this scene was one of the few that I remembered from my original viewing.
The sense of foreboding that accompanies the eventual reckoning for the characters is enhanced by the ominous score and lingering, contemplative shots. That being said, the score is somewhat obtuse, punctuated with heart-clenching jump points; likewise, the camera doesn't linger nearly long enough. A film that takes a similar fatalistic approach is Eli Roth's Cabin Fever (2002) which represents a much better vision for horror films that plays to the both the campiness and eerieness that horror film watchers expect without making it so obvious. In a particularly forced move, the hook-handeded lunatic urban legend is shoehorned in at a couple points.
Although a lot of the conventions seem dated and trite, the film was decidedly made for the masses and it was a wild success (at a budget of $17m, it grossed over $70m). A large part of that has to be attributed to the films four principle actors, who inhabit almost their own world. Part of that must have been due to the expense of casting: JLH was a successful TV star from Party of Five (remember when that was big?) and SMG was Buffy the Vampire Slayer; the two male leads were relative unknowns at the time (this film made them 90's icons), though RF did have several bit parts going in.
The consensus amongst critics seemed to focus on the numerous slasher cliches, and coming off of the heals of Scream just one year prior, it would be easy to see why critics would trash this film (a lousy 39% on RT, a slightly better 52 on Metacritic). I would argue that the film does not take itself nearly so seriously as to deserve the vitriolic rants that it garnered at the time of it's release. The killer is a crazy fisherman with an ice hook dressed in a rain slicker. C'mon, are you seriously going to sit at your desk and blast the film for failing to cross a few T's?
This film gives the female (and to a lesser extent, male) leads a space to dress scantily and brood. The fact that there are numerous creepy details added in and a fabulous cameo by Anne Heche as a slightly imbalanced rustic are what make the film re-watchable; the performances from the fab four of the 90's are relatively forgettable.
Clearly the director had an eye for details, regardless of the hack horror setups.
In part, films with an ominous deadline just seem to play better in that regard, in that the pacing is (or should be) relatively straightforward, leaving more time to work in details (e.g. the handwritten notes, the tired looking floats and parade from the beginning of the film, etc.). This film gives you a sense that things are building to a climax, while retaining the sense of danger that the characters (are supposed to) feel.
What happened to the actors (and director for that matter)? Not much. Much like the brat pack, they have seen little in the way of post-twenties success. From the action Gillespie has seen in the subsequent years, you would think that this film was a commercial disaster; he's hardly directed anything of note. In terms of cultural ephemera, the film mostly misses the mark (other than the soundtrack which is somewhat dated), which is both disappointing and strangely affirming of my defense. I would argue that the film has aged well, in fact, divorced from the hype of it's release. You'll have to grit your teeth to get through some of the dialogue, but if you can let that go, the film is well worth the short running time.
7/10
Right off the bat, I already F-ed up by not watching Scream. Strike one. I planned on watching it on New Year's Eve, but I fell asleep after about thirty minutes since we started it at 1 a.m. or so. But it got me thinking about two things in particular:
1. I watched a lot of movies in the 90's that I only barely remember;
2. I tend to re-watch so called "bad" films, and I usually find them not nearly as bad as I remember.
In any case, I'm starting a feature called To Hell with the critics, where I'll do my best to convince you that the films that critics (and possibly you) hated are much better than you remember. To qualify, a film must score lower than 50 on either RT or Metacritic (or both).
I picked a dandy to start with, 1997's I Know What You Did Last Summer starring Jennifer Love Hewitt, Freddy Prinze Jr., Sarah Michelle Gellar, and Ryan Phillippe. Watching this film, it's hard to believe how much it blatantly rips off of Scream (1996) and how much Urban Legend (1998) rips off from I Know What You Did Last Summer. They are all spinning off the same skein, drinking from the same well, etc.
The plot itself, if you've never seen the film, involves the accidental killing of a man by the four principle actors, and the events leading up to the anniversary of that killing. I remembered the plot being extremely simplistic, but there were actually quite a few nuances that I had missed when I saw the film in theaters 13 years ago.
For all of the exposition we get in most films nowadays, this film is surprisingly light on explanatory material. In fact, if the film has a real flaw (apart from the dreadful line delivery by the principles), it's that the exposition is so poorly handled that when the big reveal comes at the end, it's almost impossible to figure out what is going on unless you were paying very careful attention to the few bits of material that develop the backstory.
In terms of action/suspense sequences, it's no Hitchcock, but the film delivers repeatedly. Take this sequence, which I would rank at least in the top 20 of horror film chase sequences. Underscored by Hoverphonic's eerie "2 Wicky" muted in the background, this scene was one of the few that I remembered from my original viewing.
The sense of foreboding that accompanies the eventual reckoning for the characters is enhanced by the ominous score and lingering, contemplative shots. That being said, the score is somewhat obtuse, punctuated with heart-clenching jump points; likewise, the camera doesn't linger nearly long enough. A film that takes a similar fatalistic approach is Eli Roth's Cabin Fever (2002) which represents a much better vision for horror films that plays to the both the campiness and eerieness that horror film watchers expect without making it so obvious. In a particularly forced move, the hook-handeded lunatic urban legend is shoehorned in at a couple points.
Although a lot of the conventions seem dated and trite, the film was decidedly made for the masses and it was a wild success (at a budget of $17m, it grossed over $70m). A large part of that has to be attributed to the films four principle actors, who inhabit almost their own world. Part of that must have been due to the expense of casting: JLH was a successful TV star from Party of Five (remember when that was big?) and SMG was Buffy the Vampire Slayer; the two male leads were relative unknowns at the time (this film made them 90's icons), though RF did have several bit parts going in.
The consensus amongst critics seemed to focus on the numerous slasher cliches, and coming off of the heals of Scream just one year prior, it would be easy to see why critics would trash this film (a lousy 39% on RT, a slightly better 52 on Metacritic). I would argue that the film does not take itself nearly so seriously as to deserve the vitriolic rants that it garnered at the time of it's release. The killer is a crazy fisherman with an ice hook dressed in a rain slicker. C'mon, are you seriously going to sit at your desk and blast the film for failing to cross a few T's?
This film gives the female (and to a lesser extent, male) leads a space to dress scantily and brood. The fact that there are numerous creepy details added in and a fabulous cameo by Anne Heche as a slightly imbalanced rustic are what make the film re-watchable; the performances from the fab four of the 90's are relatively forgettable.
Clearly the director had an eye for details, regardless of the hack horror setups.
In part, films with an ominous deadline just seem to play better in that regard, in that the pacing is (or should be) relatively straightforward, leaving more time to work in details (e.g. the handwritten notes, the tired looking floats and parade from the beginning of the film, etc.). This film gives you a sense that things are building to a climax, while retaining the sense of danger that the characters (are supposed to) feel.
What happened to the actors (and director for that matter)? Not much. Much like the brat pack, they have seen little in the way of post-twenties success. From the action Gillespie has seen in the subsequent years, you would think that this film was a commercial disaster; he's hardly directed anything of note. In terms of cultural ephemera, the film mostly misses the mark (other than the soundtrack which is somewhat dated), which is both disappointing and strangely affirming of my defense. I would argue that the film has aged well, in fact, divorced from the hype of it's release. You'll have to grit your teeth to get through some of the dialogue, but if you can let that go, the film is well worth the short running time.
7/10
Friday, December 31, 2010
New year, new look, new blog / The Fighter (2010)
If you've had a chance to read my blog, you know that I said in my very first post that I would generate 100 reviews of film and writing that I enjoyed during the summer. As with most endeavors, I wildly overestimated the amount I would be able to accomplish in the time that I had.
However, my boundless enthusiasm prevails in the new year, and with some encouragement and the sense of enjoyment I get from thinking about and writing about films and entertainment, I will endeavor to restart my blog and give myself an excuse to avoid more serious work, and maybe, just maybe, help you waste five to ten minutes a week of your employer's time this year.
As a side note, while this blog will remain hosted on blogger, I plan on eventually moving the business end over to my website (andrewroback[dot]com) where I will eventually start another blog related more to my research. Without further delay, my first review of the new year.
When I went to see the visually beautiful Black Swan (2010)* I saw the trailer for The Fighter and leaned over to say to my wife "I think I've seen this film before. Wasn't it called Rocky?"
Boxing films in general seem to typify the underdog storyline trajectory that we crave so very much when we go to the theaters. This type of plot line is embedded in almost every film that we pay to see, especially in films about sports, and most especially in films about boxing. As most film watchers will agree (I think?): you go to a film to see that film, but you take with you every film that you can remember watching (amongst other things).
I am a huge sucker for most sports films, so I don't need a great deal of convincing to watch one, but I have to say that boxing films don't quite do as much for me since they seem to be so heavily interested in the build up to the final fight sequence that the rest of the movie becomes window dressing. The Fighter spices things up with two exciting fight sequences, while introducing concurrent plot lines of family drama and a love interest story.
Most of the drama centers on the tension between our boxer, Micky Ward (Mark Wahlberg) and his dysfunctional family, including mother/manager Alice Ward (Melissa Leo) and brother/trainer Dicky Eklund (Christian Bale) who rides the laurels of a questionable knockdown he scored in a bout with Sugar Ray Leonard that most of the world outside of Lowell, MA has long forgotten. Wahlberg gives us his typical ineffectual line delivery and flat facial expressions, which actually fit the role well since he is a passive punching bag (pardon the pun) of a character both in the ring and out. Amy Adams plays his love interest (Charlene Flemming) who causes the (relative) change in Wahlberg's character, causing him to finally start working towards what he wants rather than being used as a payday for his white trash, lecherous family.
The camera in the film leers on Adams, stressing the her objectification as a character and woman by her surroundings. Bale's movements are jerky and erratic, and his line delivery is insufferable (which I suppose was the point). Despite the tawdry attempts at engendering pathos for his character later in the film using his infant son (who really only appears to tug at the heart strings), perhaps the saddest scene is watching him reenact the fight with Sugar Ray that made him the "pride of Lowell" with a fellow junkie in a seedy crack house. The film evolves from a fighting story to a tripartite redemption story, with Adams', Bale's, and Wahlberg's characters all seeking a better existence through his slim chance at success in the ring.
It's hard not to think of Rocky when watching this film, but after some consideration, this film doesn't necessarily rely on all of the same tropes (though there is at least one training montage). The fight scenes themselves alternate between typical film and the type of grainy image you might see on a cathode ray tube television in the 90's, with angles that look like what you might have seen on HBO. However, while that was a nice gimmick, it didn't do much for me as a viewer. I expect no realism from a filmed boxing sequence. I'm not the biggest boxing fan, but fights I have watched involve about ten exciting seconds when punches are actually landing; I've yet to see a fight where the pugilists stand toe to toe in the center of the ring and trade punches in the face like drunken pub brawlers.
Performance-wise, most critics are talking about Bale. He seems to have two gears to his body: gaunt and unbelievably ripped. With most of his gaunt roles, it's difficult to separate his physical appearance from his performance since he looks like a human skeleton (I'm thinking of The Machinist (2004) in particular). In terms of ethos, the role is nailed; I'm not sure if the clip at the end of the film was intended to confirm his ability to capture the real-life character of Dicky Eklund or not, but that certainly is what it accomplishes. Without spoiling the plot, I would say that I didn't feel for his character in the level that I thought the film was going for, but his performance was still impressive if only for his ability to make the role so memorable.
8/10
*I would have loved to review Black Swan, but I saw it so long ago (opening night) that I doubt I could do a full review justice. If you liked other Aronofsky films (Pi, Requiem for a Dream, The Fountain) then it is well worth a viewing.
Well, it's good to be back. I plan on tossing in more classic reviews this go around since I can't see myself making it to the theater as often as I would like this year due to my insanely busy schedule. My goal is going to be at least one review per week, maybe more if time allows.
Next up: A classic review of Wes Craven's surprisingly postmodern Scream (1996)
However, my boundless enthusiasm prevails in the new year, and with some encouragement and the sense of enjoyment I get from thinking about and writing about films and entertainment, I will endeavor to restart my blog and give myself an excuse to avoid more serious work, and maybe, just maybe, help you waste five to ten minutes a week of your employer's time this year.
As a side note, while this blog will remain hosted on blogger, I plan on eventually moving the business end over to my website (andrewroback[dot]com) where I will eventually start another blog related more to my research. Without further delay, my first review of the new year.
The Fighter (2010)
Dir. David O. Russel, 112 min., in Chicago theatersWhen I went to see the visually beautiful Black Swan (2010)* I saw the trailer for The Fighter and leaned over to say to my wife "I think I've seen this film before. Wasn't it called Rocky?"
Boxing films in general seem to typify the underdog storyline trajectory that we crave so very much when we go to the theaters. This type of plot line is embedded in almost every film that we pay to see, especially in films about sports, and most especially in films about boxing. As most film watchers will agree (I think?): you go to a film to see that film, but you take with you every film that you can remember watching (amongst other things).
I am a huge sucker for most sports films, so I don't need a great deal of convincing to watch one, but I have to say that boxing films don't quite do as much for me since they seem to be so heavily interested in the build up to the final fight sequence that the rest of the movie becomes window dressing. The Fighter spices things up with two exciting fight sequences, while introducing concurrent plot lines of family drama and a love interest story.
Most of the drama centers on the tension between our boxer, Micky Ward (Mark Wahlberg) and his dysfunctional family, including mother/manager Alice Ward (Melissa Leo) and brother/trainer Dicky Eklund (Christian Bale) who rides the laurels of a questionable knockdown he scored in a bout with Sugar Ray Leonard that most of the world outside of Lowell, MA has long forgotten. Wahlberg gives us his typical ineffectual line delivery and flat facial expressions, which actually fit the role well since he is a passive punching bag (pardon the pun) of a character both in the ring and out. Amy Adams plays his love interest (Charlene Flemming) who causes the (relative) change in Wahlberg's character, causing him to finally start working towards what he wants rather than being used as a payday for his white trash, lecherous family.
The camera in the film leers on Adams, stressing the her objectification as a character and woman by her surroundings. Bale's movements are jerky and erratic, and his line delivery is insufferable (which I suppose was the point). Despite the tawdry attempts at engendering pathos for his character later in the film using his infant son (who really only appears to tug at the heart strings), perhaps the saddest scene is watching him reenact the fight with Sugar Ray that made him the "pride of Lowell" with a fellow junkie in a seedy crack house. The film evolves from a fighting story to a tripartite redemption story, with Adams', Bale's, and Wahlberg's characters all seeking a better existence through his slim chance at success in the ring.
It's hard not to think of Rocky when watching this film, but after some consideration, this film doesn't necessarily rely on all of the same tropes (though there is at least one training montage). The fight scenes themselves alternate between typical film and the type of grainy image you might see on a cathode ray tube television in the 90's, with angles that look like what you might have seen on HBO. However, while that was a nice gimmick, it didn't do much for me as a viewer. I expect no realism from a filmed boxing sequence. I'm not the biggest boxing fan, but fights I have watched involve about ten exciting seconds when punches are actually landing; I've yet to see a fight where the pugilists stand toe to toe in the center of the ring and trade punches in the face like drunken pub brawlers.
Performance-wise, most critics are talking about Bale. He seems to have two gears to his body: gaunt and unbelievably ripped. With most of his gaunt roles, it's difficult to separate his physical appearance from his performance since he looks like a human skeleton (I'm thinking of The Machinist (2004) in particular). In terms of ethos, the role is nailed; I'm not sure if the clip at the end of the film was intended to confirm his ability to capture the real-life character of Dicky Eklund or not, but that certainly is what it accomplishes. Without spoiling the plot, I would say that I didn't feel for his character in the level that I thought the film was going for, but his performance was still impressive if only for his ability to make the role so memorable.
8/10
*I would have loved to review Black Swan, but I saw it so long ago (opening night) that I doubt I could do a full review justice. If you liked other Aronofsky films (Pi, Requiem for a Dream, The Fountain) then it is well worth a viewing.
Well, it's good to be back. I plan on tossing in more classic reviews this go around since I can't see myself making it to the theater as often as I would like this year due to my insanely busy schedule. My goal is going to be at least one review per week, maybe more if time allows.
Next up: A classic review of Wes Craven's surprisingly postmodern Scream (1996)
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Romeo and Juliet at the CST
William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, dir. Gale Edwards, 11/9/10 at Chicago Shakespeare Theater
Ms. Edwards, in her discussion of her collaboration with set designer Brian Sidney Bembridge, describes her stage as a once beautiful place inhabited by “wealthy, feuding dynasties” where “the modern world has been imposed on top of the elegant world of the past, now violated and perched on destruction.”
It is clear from Friar Lawrence’s laboratory (a truly beautiful and intricate set piece) that despite the protestations of Ms. Edwards that “the world” of the theater “is described by the characters through poetry and imagination,” a great deal of attention was paid to the physical stage. Her attempt to liken this to a bare bones production is laughable. Brawls are physical and real, with six or more characters hurling barricades at one another during the play’s opening; the sound effect accompanying the Nurse knocking on Friar Lawrence’s door is akin to Thor striking at the forge in Valhalla, and Prince Escalus’ drone of doom has digital echoes to remind us that we are in a tomb, lest the altar fail to do so.
The cuckoo clock machinations of chandeliers swinging up and down, beds and biers spouting from the floor, and stage hands shuffling about the bellows makes for short changes, but places you in the belly of the motorized beast which is this rushed production. Somehow making two and a half hours look flabby, this lean-Shakespeare-machine churns out the production in short order, dispensing with the final scene in a matter of minutes.
The acting was generally adequate, though dangerous overtones of Baz Lurhrman’s Romeo creep into the DiCaprio-esqe reading by Mr. Lillico. Mercutio is done passably well by Mr. Shafir; his Queen Mab monologue is “by the book” but satisfying nonetheless. The worst performance was Mr. Musselman as the Apothecary who did all but twirl his mustache in his few lines. Perhaps avenging his being passed over for a larger part, he comically barrels out from behind one of the silly garage doors on the set like Lon Chaney’s Wolfman leaping from a stand of trees.
A nod to Mr. Haggard as Benvolio, who owned his performance and exceeded the limitations of the character. Similar in quality are Mr. Lively’s Friar Lawrence and Ms. Jones’ Nurse. What they lacked in intensity was perhaps due to Ms. Edward’s reading of these characters as abortive surrogate parents to the star-crossed lovers who must display some measure of detachment in order to fulfil the directorial reading.
Questionable choices included the deletion of the opening sonnet (perhaps Shakespeare’s most famous opening) and the ill suited “music from a motion picture” interludes that swell when the director bossily tells us how we should feel.
Finally, much was made of the lack of spark between Mr. Lillico and Ms. Farmer-Clary as Romeo and Juliet, but that portion of the play seemed an afterthought of the director. Much like the bed that literally descends into the bowels of the stage and returns as Juliet’s bier, the love story seemed to flicker then vanish into nothingness, leaving the audience as “unsatisfied” as Romeo in the orchard. The direction of Romeo’s scene in Juliet’s bed prior to his flight comes off as sleazy rather than sensual, like the actors from a Tennessee Williams play accidentally wandered onto the wrong stage. In fact, much of the energy of this production seems misplaced, perhaps a byproduct of the need to “spice up” a play that has seen overly abundant production.
Ms. Edwards, in her discussion of her collaboration with set designer Brian Sidney Bembridge, describes her stage as a once beautiful place inhabited by “wealthy, feuding dynasties” where “the modern world has been imposed on top of the elegant world of the past, now violated and perched on destruction.”
It is clear from Friar Lawrence’s laboratory (a truly beautiful and intricate set piece) that despite the protestations of Ms. Edwards that “the world” of the theater “is described by the characters through poetry and imagination,” a great deal of attention was paid to the physical stage. Her attempt to liken this to a bare bones production is laughable. Brawls are physical and real, with six or more characters hurling barricades at one another during the play’s opening; the sound effect accompanying the Nurse knocking on Friar Lawrence’s door is akin to Thor striking at the forge in Valhalla, and Prince Escalus’ drone of doom has digital echoes to remind us that we are in a tomb, lest the altar fail to do so.
The cuckoo clock machinations of chandeliers swinging up and down, beds and biers spouting from the floor, and stage hands shuffling about the bellows makes for short changes, but places you in the belly of the motorized beast which is this rushed production. Somehow making two and a half hours look flabby, this lean-Shakespeare-machine churns out the production in short order, dispensing with the final scene in a matter of minutes.
The acting was generally adequate, though dangerous overtones of Baz Lurhrman’s Romeo creep into the DiCaprio-esqe reading by Mr. Lillico. Mercutio is done passably well by Mr. Shafir; his Queen Mab monologue is “by the book” but satisfying nonetheless. The worst performance was Mr. Musselman as the Apothecary who did all but twirl his mustache in his few lines. Perhaps avenging his being passed over for a larger part, he comically barrels out from behind one of the silly garage doors on the set like Lon Chaney’s Wolfman leaping from a stand of trees.
A nod to Mr. Haggard as Benvolio, who owned his performance and exceeded the limitations of the character. Similar in quality are Mr. Lively’s Friar Lawrence and Ms. Jones’ Nurse. What they lacked in intensity was perhaps due to Ms. Edward’s reading of these characters as abortive surrogate parents to the star-crossed lovers who must display some measure of detachment in order to fulfil the directorial reading.
Questionable choices included the deletion of the opening sonnet (perhaps Shakespeare’s most famous opening) and the ill suited “music from a motion picture” interludes that swell when the director bossily tells us how we should feel.
Finally, much was made of the lack of spark between Mr. Lillico and Ms. Farmer-Clary as Romeo and Juliet, but that portion of the play seemed an afterthought of the director. Much like the bed that literally descends into the bowels of the stage and returns as Juliet’s bier, the love story seemed to flicker then vanish into nothingness, leaving the audience as “unsatisfied” as Romeo in the orchard. The direction of Romeo’s scene in Juliet’s bed prior to his flight comes off as sleazy rather than sensual, like the actors from a Tennessee Williams play accidentally wandered onto the wrong stage. In fact, much of the energy of this production seems misplaced, perhaps a byproduct of the need to “spice up” a play that has seen overly abundant production.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Salt (2010)
This is probably the last entry I will be able to write for a while since I really don't have any more time to review films before the summer ends. I had fun writing some reviews up and I hope whoever was reading enjoyed them as well. I'm thinking about starting a review blog this fall/winter that will review not just films and entertainment, but also food, music, and other stuff as well. If you're interested in writing about these things (for free) email me at andrew dot roback at gmail dot com and we can talk details. Hope you had a great summer! Oh and, officially, this will be my 35th review or something like that. Even though I failed miserably to generate the amount of content I wanted to, well, there's no excuse, I just failed. Happy rest of the summer :).
Columbia Pictures, 100 min., Dir. Phillip Noyce
(Sort of) heralded as a (pretty decent) action/spy film that will (kind of) take you on a (semi-)non-stop thrill ride, I had expectations for Salt that were (a little) inflated by hype.
However, despite such glowing reviews as "it's not as bad as I thought it would be," I was hopeful that I would at least not dislike the film. From the man who directed Patriot Games (1992) and Clear and Present Danger (1994), I was expecting a smart spy film where there were lots of crazy plot developments and a really interesting cold war plot resurrection. Wrong. In other words, this film played more like Mission Impossible III than Mission Impossible.
A lot of reviews I read/heard praised the action element, but there was nothing outstanding. Action movies of this sort eventually devolve into how many different ways can the protagonist dispose of the baddies. Apart from one interesting scene involving a fire-extinguisher propelled homemade explosive, the action was mostly just Angelina Jolie hitting and shooting random guards.
The plot twists are not that interesting, and often don't reconcile with the supposed plot in some cases. There's not a whole lot of emotional investment in the characters, and the whole cold-war nuclear tension could not be more underplayed. I was expecting it to improve drastically as the film went on, but it just never did. The ending, which I won't spoil for those who wish to see it, belongs in a James Bond film where it may be taken with a level of seriousness appropriate to its mustache twisting obviousness.
The fight scenes are completely vanilla (Angelina Jolie is aging and probably shouldn't have played this role for obvious reasons), and the plot drops out to the most asinine developments possible with ancillary deux ex machina characters tossed in to finish the third act. Much like I was pissed at Iron Man II for overplaying cold war fears, I will reiterate for the rest of us who were born near the tail end: the Cold War is a piece of curious history and not a vivid memory.
The most interesting part of the movie was the idea of a Soviet spymaster creating a group of sleeper agents. Nerd that I am, I would have loved to see more of the training techniques, basically an unpacking of that whole montage. It would have replaced, perhaps, four to six scenes of Ms. Jolie breaking arms and kicking necks, but could have provided some much needed bolstering of the back story that would have made two-dimensional spy cliches into characters.
I don't see much of a future for this series, even though there is a clear setup for a sequel. The film was trying very hard to be The Bourne Identity, but an aging actress in the lead coupled with poor acting and a bad storyline sabotaged this film right from the start.
5/10: Watch Breach (2007) for a much more entertaining spy film
Columbia Pictures, 100 min., Dir. Phillip Noyce
(Sort of) heralded as a (pretty decent) action/spy film that will (kind of) take you on a (semi-)non-stop thrill ride, I had expectations for Salt that were (a little) inflated by hype.
However, despite such glowing reviews as "it's not as bad as I thought it would be," I was hopeful that I would at least not dislike the film. From the man who directed Patriot Games (1992) and Clear and Present Danger (1994), I was expecting a smart spy film where there were lots of crazy plot developments and a really interesting cold war plot resurrection. Wrong. In other words, this film played more like Mission Impossible III than Mission Impossible.
A lot of reviews I read/heard praised the action element, but there was nothing outstanding. Action movies of this sort eventually devolve into how many different ways can the protagonist dispose of the baddies. Apart from one interesting scene involving a fire-extinguisher propelled homemade explosive, the action was mostly just Angelina Jolie hitting and shooting random guards.
The plot twists are not that interesting, and often don't reconcile with the supposed plot in some cases. There's not a whole lot of emotional investment in the characters, and the whole cold-war nuclear tension could not be more underplayed. I was expecting it to improve drastically as the film went on, but it just never did. The ending, which I won't spoil for those who wish to see it, belongs in a James Bond film where it may be taken with a level of seriousness appropriate to its mustache twisting obviousness.
The fight scenes are completely vanilla (Angelina Jolie is aging and probably shouldn't have played this role for obvious reasons), and the plot drops out to the most asinine developments possible with ancillary deux ex machina characters tossed in to finish the third act. Much like I was pissed at Iron Man II for overplaying cold war fears, I will reiterate for the rest of us who were born near the tail end: the Cold War is a piece of curious history and not a vivid memory.
The most interesting part of the movie was the idea of a Soviet spymaster creating a group of sleeper agents. Nerd that I am, I would have loved to see more of the training techniques, basically an unpacking of that whole montage. It would have replaced, perhaps, four to six scenes of Ms. Jolie breaking arms and kicking necks, but could have provided some much needed bolstering of the back story that would have made two-dimensional spy cliches into characters.
I don't see much of a future for this series, even though there is a clear setup for a sequel. The film was trying very hard to be The Bourne Identity, but an aging actress in the lead coupled with poor acting and a bad storyline sabotaged this film right from the start.
5/10: Watch Breach (2007) for a much more entertaining spy film
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Zombie Film Roundup
Here's part one in what I hope could be a multi-part zombie film review. Let me know if you have any zombie films that you dig because I would love to check them out.
Night of the Living Dead (1968)
Image Ten, 96 min., Dir. George A. Romero, black and white
The defining zombie film that sparked a myriad of imitators never once uses "the zed word" during the film. I'm not a film scholar, so it's hard to say whether NotLD is supposed to be set in the 50's, or is just a low budget flick with old school sentimentalities.
Every female is a hysterical wreck who can't help anyone with anything and needs a good slap, and every male is stereotype (strong man, posturer, greedy self-lover). The screenplay is, frankly, quite awful. The characters aren't fleshed out very much and important details are tossed in as time permits.
The cinematography is quite a different story, however. The film begins during the early evening, and stretches through the night until the following morning. Since the film is shot in black and white, lighting is a huge consideration. Details such as the lighting of the face, dark makeup, and patterns of light and darkness all add to the viewing experience. The soundtrack, which Tobey Hooper obviously took stock of for The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974), uses otherworldly distortion and long-lasting crescendos to raise the stakes on otherwise stiff zombies and slow, low-budget action.
If you enjoy zombie films or are just starting to get into the genre, this is the gateway for you. Most every detail, and often times, characters, can be found in every zombie film you have seen. Romero's films alone are their own cannon, but this film was the progenitor of zombie films to follow.
8/10
The Omega Man (1971)
Warner Bros., 98 min., Dir. Boris Sagal
Boris Sagal was a television director for an unbelievable amount of series, so it's not too surprising that this movie plays like an extended television show. It could have been a pilot for a longer series.
The film is the second in three film adaptations of Richard Matheson's novel I am Legend. The novel itself depicts the force that represents 'otherness' as vampires, but this film is clearly a zombie picture. The forces against the protagonist can't venture into daylight, but that doesn't differentiate them from zombies since they also avoid daylight. You never see anyone eating flesh, but they aren't sucking blood either. In fact, the question of how these particular undead corpses survive is largely left unanswered. Their stiff appearance and style of attack seem very zombie-like in my opinion.
Charlton Heston plays Robert Neville, a scientist that survives a plague, a plague that seemingly wipes out all of mankind, by injecting himself with the last dose of vaccine after a helicopter crash prevents him from delivering it to the rest of the U.S., er, world, that is...he was definitely going to share it with the whole world...after the U.S. was safe, of course.
His arch nemesis after the plague apocalypse, Matthias (Anthony Zerbe), is the leader of the undead horde who wants to kill Neville. Neville is (in his mansion with a car, electricity, and decently aged scotch) an affront to Matthias' stone age mentality cult of plague infected weirdos who won't even pick up a gun to attack him, and want to return to a simpler life where there's no chance of wiping out humanity with biological warfare. What a bunch of losers. Although, maybe I could read their pamphlet, just to see what a bunch of losers they are. I mean, I won't want to join or anything, but you can't dispute what they say, you know what I mean?? It's not so crazy, I mean, their ideas. And what with those damn terrorists, you never know, I mean, they could totally do that, and shit. Aww man, I should really start looking into bomb shelters. But, I guess I'll finish this review first.
Neville finds some other folks who aren't yet zombie like followers of Matthias, so his life is given purpose other than hunting down the jerks who try to kill him every night. In fact, the first 30 minutes or so play like a Charlton Heston NRA commercial: "How would I kill these damn zombies without my beloved Uzi? You'll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands!"
This film is about as seventies as it gets. Wah-wah bass lines pervade, Heston watches Michael Wadleigh's Woodstock (1970) at the beginning of the film, and the clothes have magnificently large lapels. Oh, and everyone is drinking some kind of brown liquor out of a tumbler at some point, poured from a cut crystal decanter, but of course. Rosalind Cash's (Lisa's) fro is something else, and Paul Koslo (Dutch) looks like he just walked off Woodstock and into the wrong film set, maaahn. Still, watch for the awsomeness that is the finale, and for 70's style nostalgia. I'll totally have to do a 70's horror film roundup at some point.
6/10
Shaun of the Dead (2004)
Universal Pictures, 99 min., Dir. Edgar Wright
Probably the quintessential zombie movie of this decade, Shaun of the Dead draws heavily on Night of the Living Dead in a loving way, erasing the foolishness and flaws of the original and replacing them with tongue-in-cheek references which are hilarious. Barbara (Penelope Wilton) is as dazed as her namesake in NotLD (Judith O'Day), and many of the character types mirror the originals. Despite the allusion to Dawn of the Dead (1985), Shaun of the Dead only lightly references that film.
I won't go too much into detail, since the film is so enjoyable that it really should be watched and not picked apart. There is a theme of repetition, with strong undertones that we all live like zombies and it takes a massive change of pace to help us excel to our full potential, even if that event is the end of the world. In some ways, it is a coming of age piece (buildungsroman), where the protagonist must shed his juvenile exterior and mature into a robust man who is capable of determining his own destiny. The humor is best appreciated by a gen X audience (perhaps British as well), so there are numerous cultural references that exceed my understanding; however, the humor is so endearing that you will have no problem joining in on the fun.
While a parody of zombie/horror films could easily become tiresome (see every Scary Movie for instance), this film is a tutorial in how to parody a genre by including fans and not obtusely excluding the people who would most enjoy a poke at a genre of film that is overdone or short on levity. You need only go as far as the trailer for Vampires Suck to see how parody can epically fail.
9/10
As I said above, I'd like to keep watching some zombie films and writing about them, so if you have any suggestions, send them my way.
Inception (2010)
Warner Bros., 148 min., Dir. Christopher Nolan
There's not too much you can say that hasn't been said and said and said and said, so I'm not sure there's a ton to say that hasn't been said. That's my verbal attempt at translating a Penrose staircase. Incidentally, the first time I saw a Mobius strip at the absolutely fascinating Museum of Science Mathmateca exhibit designed by Charles and Ray Eames, I ended up designing one with Nicole and Sarah and Christine and just marveling at the fact that it was possible. This film has a similar, if more subdued effect.
Inception is a psychological thriller that recalls Christopher Nolan's earlier film Memento (2000), but this is a far better film. It channels some of the energy of Nolan's last two Batman films and plays like Ocean's Eleven, but with fewer characters and more emotional payoff. There's not much need to discuss the plot as you can read Adam's salon.com article and recap the plot in detail for yourself.
What kind of film is this? A heist film, plain and simple. This film has been compared to The Matrix (1999), and that is essentially a heist film as well (thought the stakes are a bit different). A team is assembled in which each member has a particular skill to contribute. One member, (Cobb in this film) has a hangup, or some kind of personal problem that he/she must overcome before the job can be done satisfactorily. The heist involves multiple layers of concurrent threads of action and at least one twist which causes the audience to question the outcome or reassess the rules of the game.
A comparison to The Matrix is valid in my opinion, in that both films offer a fantasy world parallel to the 'real' in which different rules cause spectacular confrontations and contortions of the laws that govern our physical and mental existence. In terms of the outcome of the film, you have to see it to question, then, as Adam's suggest, determine for yourself whether you care what the final scene represents.
In a word, I will echo most critics by saying that it was refreshing to see a movie that was not a sequel, middle-story film, or reboot of an 80's television show. Nolan taps into yet another set of fundamental imagery to project a singular vision that captivates the viewer and truly establishes a world to inhabit for the duration of the film.
9/10: As with most Nolan films, a repeat viewing is in order.
There's not too much you can say that hasn't been said and said and said and said, so I'm not sure there's a ton to say that hasn't been said. That's my verbal attempt at translating a Penrose staircase. Incidentally, the first time I saw a Mobius strip at the absolutely fascinating Museum of Science Mathmateca exhibit designed by Charles and Ray Eames, I ended up designing one with Nicole and Sarah and Christine and just marveling at the fact that it was possible. This film has a similar, if more subdued effect.
Inception is a psychological thriller that recalls Christopher Nolan's earlier film Memento (2000), but this is a far better film. It channels some of the energy of Nolan's last two Batman films and plays like Ocean's Eleven, but with fewer characters and more emotional payoff. There's not much need to discuss the plot as you can read Adam's salon.com article and recap the plot in detail for yourself.
What kind of film is this? A heist film, plain and simple. This film has been compared to The Matrix (1999), and that is essentially a heist film as well (thought the stakes are a bit different). A team is assembled in which each member has a particular skill to contribute. One member, (Cobb in this film) has a hangup, or some kind of personal problem that he/she must overcome before the job can be done satisfactorily. The heist involves multiple layers of concurrent threads of action and at least one twist which causes the audience to question the outcome or reassess the rules of the game.
A comparison to The Matrix is valid in my opinion, in that both films offer a fantasy world parallel to the 'real' in which different rules cause spectacular confrontations and contortions of the laws that govern our physical and mental existence. In terms of the outcome of the film, you have to see it to question, then, as Adam's suggest, determine for yourself whether you care what the final scene represents.
In a word, I will echo most critics by saying that it was refreshing to see a movie that was not a sequel, middle-story film, or reboot of an 80's television show. Nolan taps into yet another set of fundamental imagery to project a singular vision that captivates the viewer and truly establishes a world to inhabit for the duration of the film.
9/10: As with most Nolan films, a repeat viewing is in order.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
The Twilight Saga: Eclipse (2010)
Summit Entertainment, 124 min., Dir. David Slade
First of all, let me address all of the "I'm too cool to see this film" people out there. One, you probably were bawling watching Toy Story 3 or Up, so don't try to pretend that you only watch high art, "grown up films." Two, get out there and live a little; go see a movie that you wouldn't normally see, if nothing else just to bag on it or, maybe enjoy it. Three, if you have a girlfriend/wife who wants to see this film and your going to be a recalcitrant crybaby about seeing it, just man up already. It's not going to be the best two hours of film you've ever seen, but it can't be worse than watching the Cubs get jacked up again or some piece of s*&t sitcom.
That being said, this is my third Twilight movie, and I still don't like them any more than I used to (sorry). I think (and have had confirmed by fans) that these films have more of a payoff for readers of the books than for the average person who walks in off the street expecting to know what's going on. There is little to no effort made to catch up anyone on what happened in the last two films (the later of which I barely remember), and I suppose that's a product of internet/home viewing culture. Makers of the movie just expect that if you're going to see part three of a six part series that you will have the requisite knowledge to understand it. If you ask me, it wouldn't hurt serious watchers to sit through thirty seconds of recap ala Star Wars style scrolling text (or maybe a voice over here and there).
In any case, just like Twilight part two, whatever that was called, I was completely lost. There are, by my count, six or seven vampires and six or seven "shape shifters" (I learned they are not werewolves from listening to AV Talk). They all have back stories, only a few of which were explained via flashbacks during the film. Characters exchange poignant glances, and I suppose we're expected to know why, but I sure as hell didn't. There are more examples of the bewilderment that a non-book reader will experience, but I'll omit them and say that you should not expect to fully understand how or why ancillary characters behave the way they do.
The love interest sequence in this film is essentially two stalkers competing over the target of their obsession, and (without spoiling anything) having to coexist so that said target is not obliterated by an army of obsessive stalkers who want her dead, or something like that. The plot is really secondary in this film. I got the repeated notion that if you're watching the film, it's not to be impressed by storyline or dialogue, both of which are lacking and dimwitted. The fact that there are vampires and "shape shifters" is also secondary, as they could really be any characters as far as I'm concerned (extraterrestrials and extraterrestrial fighters, cult members and papal soldiers, Cubs fans and Sox fans, etc.). If this ambiguity is intentional, I've yet to discover the allegorical relationship to politics or religion that is concealed within the narrative. The stakes essentially come down to which side will the protagonist end up on, something book readers already know and something I frankly don't care about.
The on-screen characters do little to make us care about their fate. The acting from all parties involved is wooden, especially from Kristen Stewart (Bella). She mumbles her way through yet another movie, and her flashes of anger are about as intense as the anger expressed after dropping one's keys down a storm drain. The chastity sequences are something else. I'm not sure where this wave of abstinence heavy tween entertainment came from, but it is definitely entertaining. The reason they don't have sex in this film is because Edward is "from a different time." Really?? Are you that secluded that for 150 years you haven't noticed a change in cultural values, especially after attending one high school after another for that entire time?? He definitely watched some James Dean movies, since his pompadour and clothing seem to mimic that style in the first film.
On a final note, I would like to point out that these are the stupidest immortal people I have ever seen portrayed on screen. Most vampires become cultural paragons, masters of music, art, literature, or science. These people act the way they look. Dr. Cullen, who learned to be a doctor hundreds of years ago, doesn't seem too concerned with advancing medial arts and only really has that talent to justify having someone bandage up Bella after one injury or another. All of the rest just seem content to look cool and drink animal blood, occasionally playing a really stupid game of baseball (that ridiculousness alone warrants a viewing of the first film). The filmmakers at lest felt that it would be wise to give some of these characters a reason for existing this time around, however slim those reasons might be. I don't feel like this film enterprise needs to be as trivial and closely targeted, as vampire films have often found a way into a wider audience base. The exclusivity of having a single audience might appeal to the target market better, I suppose. I myself found little to like in this film.
2/10: I'd love to be one of those supporting characters who just sits there and says nothing then takes home a big, fat check
In case you're wondering, here's how I rate the other two films:
Twilight: 4/10
Twilight Part Two (New moon??): 1/10
First of all, let me address all of the "I'm too cool to see this film" people out there. One, you probably were bawling watching Toy Story 3 or Up, so don't try to pretend that you only watch high art, "grown up films." Two, get out there and live a little; go see a movie that you wouldn't normally see, if nothing else just to bag on it or, maybe enjoy it. Three, if you have a girlfriend/wife who wants to see this film and your going to be a recalcitrant crybaby about seeing it, just man up already. It's not going to be the best two hours of film you've ever seen, but it can't be worse than watching the Cubs get jacked up again or some piece of s*&t sitcom.
That being said, this is my third Twilight movie, and I still don't like them any more than I used to (sorry). I think (and have had confirmed by fans) that these films have more of a payoff for readers of the books than for the average person who walks in off the street expecting to know what's going on. There is little to no effort made to catch up anyone on what happened in the last two films (the later of which I barely remember), and I suppose that's a product of internet/home viewing culture. Makers of the movie just expect that if you're going to see part three of a six part series that you will have the requisite knowledge to understand it. If you ask me, it wouldn't hurt serious watchers to sit through thirty seconds of recap ala Star Wars style scrolling text (or maybe a voice over here and there).
In any case, just like Twilight part two, whatever that was called, I was completely lost. There are, by my count, six or seven vampires and six or seven "shape shifters" (I learned they are not werewolves from listening to AV Talk). They all have back stories, only a few of which were explained via flashbacks during the film. Characters exchange poignant glances, and I suppose we're expected to know why, but I sure as hell didn't. There are more examples of the bewilderment that a non-book reader will experience, but I'll omit them and say that you should not expect to fully understand how or why ancillary characters behave the way they do.
The love interest sequence in this film is essentially two stalkers competing over the target of their obsession, and (without spoiling anything) having to coexist so that said target is not obliterated by an army of obsessive stalkers who want her dead, or something like that. The plot is really secondary in this film. I got the repeated notion that if you're watching the film, it's not to be impressed by storyline or dialogue, both of which are lacking and dimwitted. The fact that there are vampires and "shape shifters" is also secondary, as they could really be any characters as far as I'm concerned (extraterrestrials and extraterrestrial fighters, cult members and papal soldiers, Cubs fans and Sox fans, etc.). If this ambiguity is intentional, I've yet to discover the allegorical relationship to politics or religion that is concealed within the narrative. The stakes essentially come down to which side will the protagonist end up on, something book readers already know and something I frankly don't care about.
The on-screen characters do little to make us care about their fate. The acting from all parties involved is wooden, especially from Kristen Stewart (Bella). She mumbles her way through yet another movie, and her flashes of anger are about as intense as the anger expressed after dropping one's keys down a storm drain. The chastity sequences are something else. I'm not sure where this wave of abstinence heavy tween entertainment came from, but it is definitely entertaining. The reason they don't have sex in this film is because Edward is "from a different time." Really?? Are you that secluded that for 150 years you haven't noticed a change in cultural values, especially after attending one high school after another for that entire time?? He definitely watched some James Dean movies, since his pompadour and clothing seem to mimic that style in the first film.
On a final note, I would like to point out that these are the stupidest immortal people I have ever seen portrayed on screen. Most vampires become cultural paragons, masters of music, art, literature, or science. These people act the way they look. Dr. Cullen, who learned to be a doctor hundreds of years ago, doesn't seem too concerned with advancing medial arts and only really has that talent to justify having someone bandage up Bella after one injury or another. All of the rest just seem content to look cool and drink animal blood, occasionally playing a really stupid game of baseball (that ridiculousness alone warrants a viewing of the first film). The filmmakers at lest felt that it would be wise to give some of these characters a reason for existing this time around, however slim those reasons might be. I don't feel like this film enterprise needs to be as trivial and closely targeted, as vampire films have often found a way into a wider audience base. The exclusivity of having a single audience might appeal to the target market better, I suppose. I myself found little to like in this film.
2/10: I'd love to be one of those supporting characters who just sits there and says nothing then takes home a big, fat check
In case you're wondering, here's how I rate the other two films:
Twilight: 4/10
As I said above, the hilarity of some of the sequences is just great. The acting is terrible, but if you like vampire films you could find something enjoyable about this film. At least the notion of a war between vampires and Native Americans is kind of cool, though never really developed.
Twilight Part Two (New moon??): 1/10
Not worth watching at all. You can probably read the synopsis and fill in the rest. The film introduces the idea of the "Voltari" (I don't even care to look up the correct spelling) which is a Rome-based vampire council, that has yet to do anything cool but has Dakota Fanning as a member (awesome). The film is utterly forgettable, as it takes over the middle story mentality of just killing time until the conclusion even though it is only the second entry.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Countdown to Zero (2010)
Magnolia Films, 91 min., Dir. Lucy Walker
As seen at a free screening
I had some expectations for this film going into it, mainly that shot of people in a park which flashes to white and freezes (which actually happens at some point toward the end of the film), and a lot of clocks counting down to zero, which also actually happens, several times. My expectations didn't totally match with what the film presented, but that didn't necessarily make it a bad film.
Much of the emphasis of the film is in explaining how close we are to a nuclear disaster. It draws it's organization scheme from (some might know) the "sword of Damocles" speech John F. Kennedy made to the United Nations, where he stated nuclear disaster could be caused by "accident, miscalculation, or madness." This was perhaps not the best way to organize the film, as the discussion seemed less focused in the "madness" section and involved much more complex issues than just crazy people with bombs.
A lot was missing: an in-depth discussion of the history of atomic weapons and why they were created, a history of popular resistance to nuclear proliferation, a close look at the United States' use of nuclear weapons against the Japanese people in World War II and how the rest of the world reacted to that usage of nuclear weapons, which factors into the history of nuclear weapons. The filmmakers instead chose to focus on the multiplicity of ways that nuclear disasters could occur apart from a nuclear exchange between warring nations, with a special emphasis on the ease of obtaining, smuggling, and incorporating nuclear material into a terrorist weapon.
I started out saying to myself "I knew all that," but upon reflecting there were some startling facts presented in the film that I didn't know. The film is mostly interviews with experts (although there are interviews with Jimmy Carter, Robert McNamara, and Michail Gorbachev which either too short or edited down too much). There was also a lot of padding. Examples include staged closed caption television shots (which might look familiar to British viewers), endless shots of a blast radius over different world cities, and equally endless shots of nuclear missiles launching from silos.
In terms of the theoretical side of the film, some of the most interesting theories involved how it's impossible to predict some situations, and just having nuclear weapons endangers everyone in the world by virtue of randomness; once a weapon is detonated, Pandora's box is opened and our whole way of life shot to hell. Most people will agree with that line of thought. I also know a few people who maintain that we can't give up nuclear weapons because we would be powerless against a whole host of threats (failed nuclear nation states, terrorist use of nuclear weapons, etc.). To be clear, I don't subscribe to that opinion, but I did not see a whole lot in the film that would change the mind of someone who does.
In our typical hour plus discussion following a documentary, my wife and I got to the subject of how this film compares with other documentaries we've seen in the last four years or so. I felt like some of the issues raised in the film should feel personal, but the filmmakers did not breach the threshold of actually making the threat real and immediate to individuals in a way like (another Magnolia Pictures Co. film) Food Inc. (2010) does. It all comes back to that tricky issue of individual change that I talked about in other documentary reviews.
I won't drone on about An Inconvenient Truth because I could sit here all day and proselytize about how it's the perfect documentary in many ways and how its arguments are crafted elegantly and for maximum effect, but it does have a discernible effect on viewers. The big way it does this is by convincing the viewer that he or she is involved in the problem and can exercise personal power to effect change. It also equates the value of a minor change with having collective power, and those changes are only necessary on inconsequential levels. In other words, for a documentary to be effective (in my opinion) it must convince the viewer that:
All three factors are important. For example, Food Inc. makes the consumer aware that his or her individual decisions are what makes the crooked machine run. Is a change warranted? Yes, people and animals are mistreated and our health suffers as a result of the current system. Is there a clear path to effect the change? Yes, we must consume food products that are produced by a better system, one which treats workers and animals ethically and does not create products that are injurious to our health. Is the change worthwhile on an individual level (i.e. should I change the way I consume food?). No. Organic food products that are ethically manufactured are unaffordable for most people without means.
Now, as the credits role and options are flashed on screen for individual action, I ask you, isn't there an inherent hypocrisy on the part of the film makers by demonstrating that the path to an individual change of behavior is blocked to the average citizen, but then having an expectation that the viewer will have any interest in statements like "buy food from your local farmer"?
Other films do this to better effect. To once again pull out Inconvenient Truth (for the last time) the path to change is simple and often causes the viewer to incur no cost: throw your can into a recycling bin instead of throwing it away. Hey, I can do that! IC is more concerned with convincing people a change is warranted, but the stakes are so low for many of the changes that I can say "Yo Al Gore, I don't believe in global warming, but I can throw my Clamato can into a recycling bin because you asked nicely." And yes, if you don't believe in global warming, your punishment should be drinking only Clamato, forever.
I won't put all of my problems with the documentary film explosion onto this film, because it is mostly in the genre of raising awareness of an issue instead of promoting individual changes in behavior (despite the invitation to text "demand zero" to 97999 or whatever that message was at the end of the film). However, I'm inclined to believe that first of all, few members of the audience were in favor of nuclear weapons who attended this screening, despite the fact that the film was free to watch. Secondly, I feel no more engaged with the issue than I have always felt before the film. There was some talk bandied about at the conclusion of the film which stressed how popular support caused reductions in nuclear weapons, but it's basically saying if there is a revolutionary amount of people who organize, band together, and elect new representatives to government, we can change any policy! Weak.
6/10: If you're in the mood for a double feature, watch Dr. Strangelove, then watch this film. I think they would pair off nicely.
As seen at a free screening
I had some expectations for this film going into it, mainly that shot of people in a park which flashes to white and freezes (which actually happens at some point toward the end of the film), and a lot of clocks counting down to zero, which also actually happens, several times. My expectations didn't totally match with what the film presented, but that didn't necessarily make it a bad film.
Much of the emphasis of the film is in explaining how close we are to a nuclear disaster. It draws it's organization scheme from (some might know) the "sword of Damocles" speech John F. Kennedy made to the United Nations, where he stated nuclear disaster could be caused by "accident, miscalculation, or madness." This was perhaps not the best way to organize the film, as the discussion seemed less focused in the "madness" section and involved much more complex issues than just crazy people with bombs.
A lot was missing: an in-depth discussion of the history of atomic weapons and why they were created, a history of popular resistance to nuclear proliferation, a close look at the United States' use of nuclear weapons against the Japanese people in World War II and how the rest of the world reacted to that usage of nuclear weapons, which factors into the history of nuclear weapons. The filmmakers instead chose to focus on the multiplicity of ways that nuclear disasters could occur apart from a nuclear exchange between warring nations, with a special emphasis on the ease of obtaining, smuggling, and incorporating nuclear material into a terrorist weapon.
I started out saying to myself "I knew all that," but upon reflecting there were some startling facts presented in the film that I didn't know. The film is mostly interviews with experts (although there are interviews with Jimmy Carter, Robert McNamara, and Michail Gorbachev which either too short or edited down too much). There was also a lot of padding. Examples include staged closed caption television shots (which might look familiar to British viewers), endless shots of a blast radius over different world cities, and equally endless shots of nuclear missiles launching from silos.
In terms of the theoretical side of the film, some of the most interesting theories involved how it's impossible to predict some situations, and just having nuclear weapons endangers everyone in the world by virtue of randomness; once a weapon is detonated, Pandora's box is opened and our whole way of life shot to hell. Most people will agree with that line of thought. I also know a few people who maintain that we can't give up nuclear weapons because we would be powerless against a whole host of threats (failed nuclear nation states, terrorist use of nuclear weapons, etc.). To be clear, I don't subscribe to that opinion, but I did not see a whole lot in the film that would change the mind of someone who does.
In our typical hour plus discussion following a documentary, my wife and I got to the subject of how this film compares with other documentaries we've seen in the last four years or so. I felt like some of the issues raised in the film should feel personal, but the filmmakers did not breach the threshold of actually making the threat real and immediate to individuals in a way like (another Magnolia Pictures Co. film) Food Inc. (2010) does. It all comes back to that tricky issue of individual change that I talked about in other documentary reviews.
I won't drone on about An Inconvenient Truth because I could sit here all day and proselytize about how it's the perfect documentary in many ways and how its arguments are crafted elegantly and for maximum effect, but it does have a discernible effect on viewers. The big way it does this is by convincing the viewer that he or she is involved in the problem and can exercise personal power to effect change. It also equates the value of a minor change with having collective power, and those changes are only necessary on inconsequential levels. In other words, for a documentary to be effective (in my opinion) it must convince the viewer that:
- a change in behavior is warranted,
- the path to change or the actions necessary are clear, and
- the change is worthwhile on an individual level (it must be at least worth the individual cost incurred by the change).
All three factors are important. For example, Food Inc. makes the consumer aware that his or her individual decisions are what makes the crooked machine run. Is a change warranted? Yes, people and animals are mistreated and our health suffers as a result of the current system. Is there a clear path to effect the change? Yes, we must consume food products that are produced by a better system, one which treats workers and animals ethically and does not create products that are injurious to our health. Is the change worthwhile on an individual level (i.e. should I change the way I consume food?). No. Organic food products that are ethically manufactured are unaffordable for most people without means.
Now, as the credits role and options are flashed on screen for individual action, I ask you, isn't there an inherent hypocrisy on the part of the film makers by demonstrating that the path to an individual change of behavior is blocked to the average citizen, but then having an expectation that the viewer will have any interest in statements like "buy food from your local farmer"?
Other films do this to better effect. To once again pull out Inconvenient Truth (for the last time) the path to change is simple and often causes the viewer to incur no cost: throw your can into a recycling bin instead of throwing it away. Hey, I can do that! IC is more concerned with convincing people a change is warranted, but the stakes are so low for many of the changes that I can say "Yo Al Gore, I don't believe in global warming, but I can throw my Clamato can into a recycling bin because you asked nicely." And yes, if you don't believe in global warming, your punishment should be drinking only Clamato, forever.
I won't put all of my problems with the documentary film explosion onto this film, because it is mostly in the genre of raising awareness of an issue instead of promoting individual changes in behavior (despite the invitation to text "demand zero" to 97999 or whatever that message was at the end of the film). However, I'm inclined to believe that first of all, few members of the audience were in favor of nuclear weapons who attended this screening, despite the fact that the film was free to watch. Secondly, I feel no more engaged with the issue than I have always felt before the film. There was some talk bandied about at the conclusion of the film which stressed how popular support caused reductions in nuclear weapons, but it's basically saying if there is a revolutionary amount of people who organize, band together, and elect new representatives to government, we can change any policy! Weak.
6/10: If you're in the mood for a double feature, watch Dr. Strangelove, then watch this film. I think they would pair off nicely.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Let the Right One In (2008)
EFTI, 115 min., Dir. Tomas Alfredson, Sweedish with English Sub- and Super-titles, available on Netflix Instant Queue
Something about this film resonates with those of us who have lived in a place where there is a desolate winter, which is anyone in Chicago. There is a strange sense of foreboding provided by the deserted natural landscapes, reinforced by the performances and carefully calculated presentation of the child actors in the lead roles. Every detail is attended to, and there is no escaping the longing for a sense of relief at every moment in the film: a sense that everything will be sorted out. The tension is exquisite.
It probably doesn't hurt that I watched this film during a thunderstorm, which provided the appropriate, morose backdrop, occasionally punctuated with thunder claps for effect. The settings and shots are beautiful, but in an eerie way which reminds one that the starkness of the architecture and landscape mirrors the emotional climate of the characters, cold and subdued.
The innocence and desperation of the protagonist, a 12 year old boy named Oskar (Kåre Hedebrant) contrasts with the need for attachment and understanding by the young vampire, a "twelve year old" "girl" named Eli (Lina Leandersson). Oskar is tormented by bullies and emboldened by Eli to defend himself, the irony resting in the fact that the timid girl who prescribes retaliation is herself a merciless predator.
It plays out in a way that should not be ruined for viewers, so I won't talk further of the plot. Of vampire movies, which I rightly or wrongly consider myself a burgeoning aficionado, I highly recommend it. The plot action and acting is straight as an arrow, so don't expect laughs outside of the infrequent comic relief. Vampire rules are redefined along conventional lines, so there's no learning curve. I hate to bring up Nadja since I will reference that in my Bowie roundup, but the lighting and shots in the film are similar. There is an effort (in my opinion) to avoid face shots in scenes in order to build contrast between the activities of the everyday and the visually stunning shots that break into the consciousness of the viewer later in the film.
The setting and sense of place in the film are unusual. I wasn't sure for a while whether this film takes place in the late 70's / early 80's, or whether props and wardrobe are meant to convey social class (e.g. Napoleon Dynamite). There are some political hints tossed in, but my Swedish history is a bit rusty. I couldn't really pinpoint the language either, which was a distraction since I felt I was missing some supporting details that a European viewer might pick up on.
I felt throughout the whole movie that there was an unsettling undercurrent surrounding each character. In that way, the film was very Hemingway-esque. You saw just enough of the characters to interject your own back story, rather than sitting through an extra hour of film. This is really a film that you should see for yourself, so I'll recommend a viewing.
8/10
Something about this film resonates with those of us who have lived in a place where there is a desolate winter, which is anyone in Chicago. There is a strange sense of foreboding provided by the deserted natural landscapes, reinforced by the performances and carefully calculated presentation of the child actors in the lead roles. Every detail is attended to, and there is no escaping the longing for a sense of relief at every moment in the film: a sense that everything will be sorted out. The tension is exquisite.
It probably doesn't hurt that I watched this film during a thunderstorm, which provided the appropriate, morose backdrop, occasionally punctuated with thunder claps for effect. The settings and shots are beautiful, but in an eerie way which reminds one that the starkness of the architecture and landscape mirrors the emotional climate of the characters, cold and subdued.
The innocence and desperation of the protagonist, a 12 year old boy named Oskar (Kåre Hedebrant) contrasts with the need for attachment and understanding by the young vampire, a "twelve year old" "girl" named Eli (Lina Leandersson). Oskar is tormented by bullies and emboldened by Eli to defend himself, the irony resting in the fact that the timid girl who prescribes retaliation is herself a merciless predator.
It plays out in a way that should not be ruined for viewers, so I won't talk further of the plot. Of vampire movies, which I rightly or wrongly consider myself a burgeoning aficionado, I highly recommend it. The plot action and acting is straight as an arrow, so don't expect laughs outside of the infrequent comic relief. Vampire rules are redefined along conventional lines, so there's no learning curve. I hate to bring up Nadja since I will reference that in my Bowie roundup, but the lighting and shots in the film are similar. There is an effort (in my opinion) to avoid face shots in scenes in order to build contrast between the activities of the everyday and the visually stunning shots that break into the consciousness of the viewer later in the film.
The setting and sense of place in the film are unusual. I wasn't sure for a while whether this film takes place in the late 70's / early 80's, or whether props and wardrobe are meant to convey social class (e.g. Napoleon Dynamite). There are some political hints tossed in, but my Swedish history is a bit rusty. I couldn't really pinpoint the language either, which was a distraction since I felt I was missing some supporting details that a European viewer might pick up on.
I felt throughout the whole movie that there was an unsettling undercurrent surrounding each character. In that way, the film was very Hemingway-esque. You saw just enough of the characters to interject your own back story, rather than sitting through an extra hour of film. This is really a film that you should see for yourself, so I'll recommend a viewing.
8/10
Thursday, July 22, 2010
The Swarm (1978)
Warner Bros., 155 min. (extended version)/116 min. (theatrical), Dir. Irwin Allen
The first thing you'll notice in the byline above is that there is an extended version and theatrical release. I did not know this when I queued it up on Netflix, so I watched the bloated 155 min. extended version which included a subplot involving a romantic contest between two middle aged men for a retirement age elementary school principle. Yikes, nothing makes like good watchin' more than two middle aged dudes wooing a southern belle, if you're into Evening Shade that is. I, however, wanted angry mutant bees, some great one-liners, and super-ridiculous pseudoscience.
The film opens with a special forces team landing on a nuclear missile base in Texas. Quizzically, the special forces team is operating on the assumption that a commie biological weapon strike killed the staff, yet you can see exposed skin between the sleeves of their "bio-hazard suits" (painter's jumpsuits) and black leather driving gloves. Also interesting, before they even know that the threat is bees, they have flame throwers. It will all come together by the end of the review, my friends.
It turns out that a swarm of killer bees stung most everyone in the base to death, and Michael Caine, an entomologist and the foremost bee expert in the world, happens to be out by that desert wasteland when this goes down. The President places him in charge of the military forces with one mission: kill the bees. Oh, and the base is right next to a town who's main industry is growing flowers. And it's blooming season.
Now I'm not saying I could write or direct a motion picture, but it must be hard to make both Michael Caine and Peter Fonda look like the two worst actors in the world. Caine essentially has three gears in the film:
This movie is based off a novel by the late Sci-Fi writer Arthur Herzog. I couldn't help but think about The Andromeda Strain when I watched this film as they share the same basic premise: both films present a foreign threat that has no foreseeable solution; both films involve gathering the best scientists in the world and sequestering them in a secret military installation to develop a solution. Whereas Andromeda takes the nerdy intellectual route, The Swarm eventually turns into another film about communists invading America, but with bees instead of a Soviet-Cuban alliance. The bees are constantly treated like an invading army and personified, allegedly possessing strategies and tactics designed to beat the military. As they make their way toward Huston (and there is no reason at all given as to why they're are going there) the Army officers keep referring to them as "The Africans." Don't even ask me why that is. I guess you can't refer to them as the bees, seeing as you might confuse them with the Eurasian or Australian bee armies.
Let's see, so far we've had mutant bees and some great one-liners delivered in full screaming fury by Michael Caine, now all we need is some really bad science. How's this: the bees sting some people in a nuclear power plant and, as a result, the plant explodes. Check - and - mate.
**Spoiler Alert**All the 40+ minutes of character development for the townspeople is pretty much wasted as they die in a train accident halfway through the film while trying to evacuate. There are survivors, but I guess at 155 lean minutes, the director felt it would be better not to include a 15 second scene telling us if any of them were the supporting characters from earlier.
The bees eventually begin "the occupation of Huston" and the Army does the only logical thing: start burning the city down with, you guessed it, flame throwers!! I take you now to their base of operations downtown, 11 p.m., a high rise building with floor to ceiling windows:
Stupidly enough, the bees get in through the elevator, sting some dude, and as he's dying he breaks the window. Thanks, man. Way to die in the most selfish way possible.
In a brilliant piece of writing, Caine and Ross go from fleeing the bees that are loose in the building, bees so deadly that they can drop a full grown man with one sting mind you, and in the very next shot they are in a jeep, driving in an airfield, in the daytime. I've only seen one other movie that so blatantly disregards a viewers intelligence1 and just spreads some frosting over the gaping hole in the cake.
The brilliant plan to kill the bees: spill a bunch of oil in the Gulf of Mexico, lure the bees there with their mating sound, then light it on fire.
4/10: If bees invade, at least we've got one part of the solution taken care of already
1That film was The Core (2003). For some BS reason a team of scientists needs to make it to the core of our planet, and most of the crew dies along the way from numerous, extremely boring geological dangers. After the mission is accomplished (no spoiler alert because you won't want to see this film at all), the two remaining terranauts (I love that word) go from the core of our planet to the ocean floor with a caption that reads "three days later." Great ending. I just wish the whole film would have been the title screen, then a screen that says "a month and a half later," and then the credits.
Note: I was reading some Shakespeare related stuff, but I plan on watching some movies this weekend and even reviewing some new releases next week
The first thing you'll notice in the byline above is that there is an extended version and theatrical release. I did not know this when I queued it up on Netflix, so I watched the bloated 155 min. extended version which included a subplot involving a romantic contest between two middle aged men for a retirement age elementary school principle. Yikes, nothing makes like good watchin' more than two middle aged dudes wooing a southern belle, if you're into Evening Shade that is. I, however, wanted angry mutant bees, some great one-liners, and super-ridiculous pseudoscience.
The film opens with a special forces team landing on a nuclear missile base in Texas. Quizzically, the special forces team is operating on the assumption that a commie biological weapon strike killed the staff, yet you can see exposed skin between the sleeves of their "bio-hazard suits" (painter's jumpsuits) and black leather driving gloves. Also interesting, before they even know that the threat is bees, they have flame throwers. It will all come together by the end of the review, my friends.
It turns out that a swarm of killer bees stung most everyone in the base to death, and Michael Caine, an entomologist and the foremost bee expert in the world, happens to be out by that desert wasteland when this goes down. The President places him in charge of the military forces with one mission: kill the bees. Oh, and the base is right next to a town who's main industry is growing flowers. And it's blooming season.
Now I'm not saying I could write or direct a motion picture, but it must be hard to make both Michael Caine and Peter Fonda look like the two worst actors in the world. Caine essentially has three gears in the film:
- Crazy bee guy: "The war we've been fearing is finally here," referring to a war between Africanized bees and humans, something still that keeps me up at night
- Angry at the U.S. Army guy: "LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING GENERAL!!!" If you watch for nothing else, watch for the countless screaming arguments between Caine and Illinois' own, Richard Wildmark
- The guy who doles out conciliatory lines like "there was nothing we could do," something he'll get ample opportunity to say
This movie is based off a novel by the late Sci-Fi writer Arthur Herzog. I couldn't help but think about The Andromeda Strain when I watched this film as they share the same basic premise: both films present a foreign threat that has no foreseeable solution; both films involve gathering the best scientists in the world and sequestering them in a secret military installation to develop a solution. Whereas Andromeda takes the nerdy intellectual route, The Swarm eventually turns into another film about communists invading America, but with bees instead of a Soviet-Cuban alliance. The bees are constantly treated like an invading army and personified, allegedly possessing strategies and tactics designed to beat the military. As they make their way toward Huston (and there is no reason at all given as to why they're are going there) the Army officers keep referring to them as "The Africans." Don't even ask me why that is. I guess you can't refer to them as the bees, seeing as you might confuse them with the Eurasian or Australian bee armies.
Let's see, so far we've had mutant bees and some great one-liners delivered in full screaming fury by Michael Caine, now all we need is some really bad science. How's this: the bees sting some people in a nuclear power plant and, as a result, the plant explodes. Check - and - mate.
**Spoiler Alert**All the 40+ minutes of character development for the townspeople is pretty much wasted as they die in a train accident halfway through the film while trying to evacuate. There are survivors, but I guess at 155 lean minutes, the director felt it would be better not to include a 15 second scene telling us if any of them were the supporting characters from earlier.
The bees eventually begin "the occupation of Huston" and the Army does the only logical thing: start burning the city down with, you guessed it, flame throwers!! I take you now to their base of operations downtown, 11 p.m., a high rise building with floor to ceiling windows:
"Hey Private Smith, you really shouldn't be playing catch with that brick inside our glass fortress becaus--oh shit!! Anyone have insecticide...oh yeah, we tried that 72 minutes earlier in the film and it didn't work. Welp, I had a good run, lots of fun tim--and now I'm getting stung to death..."
Stupidly enough, the bees get in through the elevator, sting some dude, and as he's dying he breaks the window. Thanks, man. Way to die in the most selfish way possible.
In a brilliant piece of writing, Caine and Ross go from fleeing the bees that are loose in the building, bees so deadly that they can drop a full grown man with one sting mind you, and in the very next shot they are in a jeep, driving in an airfield, in the daytime. I've only seen one other movie that so blatantly disregards a viewers intelligence1 and just spreads some frosting over the gaping hole in the cake.
The brilliant plan to kill the bees: spill a bunch of oil in the Gulf of Mexico, lure the bees there with their mating sound, then light it on fire.
4/10: If bees invade, at least we've got one part of the solution taken care of already
1That film was The Core (2003). For some BS reason a team of scientists needs to make it to the core of our planet, and most of the crew dies along the way from numerous, extremely boring geological dangers. After the mission is accomplished (no spoiler alert because you won't want to see this film at all), the two remaining terranauts (I love that word) go from the core of our planet to the ocean floor with a caption that reads "three days later." Great ending. I just wish the whole film would have been the title screen, then a screen that says "a month and a half later," and then the credits.
Note: I was reading some Shakespeare related stuff, but I plan on watching some movies this weekend and even reviewing some new releases next week
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