In My Skin (Marina de Van, 2002) is the least graphic of the many French New Extremist films, but possibly the most disturbing. The idea of focus in this film is a disassociation between mind and body. Esther (played by the films writer/director, Marina de Van) becomes incredibly interested in her own body and skin after an accident in which she does not realize how injured she was. This starts an increasingly sick venture into a dark world of self-mutilation.
The film is not nearly as dark, aesthetically, as the protagonist's journey. It is fairly high-key in lighting. It also has plenty of wide shots, which contrast with the painfully tight shots of Esther's peeling skin. The music, too, is rather incongruent. This contrast between style and content perfectly mirrors the contrast between Esther's mind and body. By the end, the cinematography becomes completely abstract and literally split into two images.
Esther's departure from reality is brought out in the use of surrealism. The most notable instance of this comes in the scene at the restaurant. Totally oblivious to the conversation happening around her, Esther begins stabbing at her arm with her steak knife. Eventually, her forearm ends up sitting on the table and she is stuck trying to act normal with her arm detached from her body.
The introduction of the idea of a subjective reality further highlights this notion of separation. This separates our protagonist from the film world. The sudden denial of the accepted rules of the film world also separates us from it, and her. This reminds us that we are experiencing a highly personal experience that really only can be understood by Esther herself.
23 March 2010
À l'intérieur/ Inside (Alexandre Bustillo, Julien Maury, 2007)
Inside (Alexandre Bustillo, Julien Maury, 2007), besides being a painfully gruesome film to watch, offers quite a bit to talk about in terms of gender. More specifically addressed are the concepts of 'manhood' and 'womanhood'. I choose to address something that is more often ignored, the audience experience.
This film, like most 'horror' films, offers a roller coaster ride of suspense and emotions. This particular ride, though, is an exceptionally disturbing one. The audience is always wondering, "why?". There is no attempt to humanize the evil La Femme (Béatrice Dalle), not even the ending which attempts to give a motive paints her as anything more than a monster. The audience is left in a constant state of terror, as Sarah (Alysson Paradis) is fighting for her, and her baby's, lives.
Inside never lets up, and the audience is more or left fighting as hard as Sarah is to stay in the theatre. I viewed this film in a screening in our Film Studies seminar on European Cinema at UBC. As we sat there, horrified at the gruesome unfolding before us, we needed a point to collectively release our anxiety.
This point came in the kitchen seen just after La Femme calls Sarah's knitting needle bluff and bashes her in the head with the toaster. Just when La Femme is lighting up a cigarette, Sarah mysteriously finds an aerosol can of some flammable liquid with which to torch her foes face. Nearly everyone around me, myself included, burst into laughter at this moment.
This may be intentional on the part of the filmmakers, since an equally ridiculous scene occurs soon afterward. The police officer who had been shot in the head, stands up with zombie like dark spots for eyes, and proceeds to attack Sarah. Having already released our particular anxiety, we did not laugh at this, but it is certainly just as absurd as the home-made flame thrower.
A person can only watch so much painful material, before they check out emotionally. In this case, a film becomes a microcosmic case of emotional numbing. Adding these chances that allow for some laughter to serve as a defense mechanism for the audience without taking away from the action or plot, adds to the effectiveness of this film.
This film, like most 'horror' films, offers a roller coaster ride of suspense and emotions. This particular ride, though, is an exceptionally disturbing one. The audience is always wondering, "why?". There is no attempt to humanize the evil La Femme (Béatrice Dalle), not even the ending which attempts to give a motive paints her as anything more than a monster. The audience is left in a constant state of terror, as Sarah (Alysson Paradis) is fighting for her, and her baby's, lives.
Inside never lets up, and the audience is more or left fighting as hard as Sarah is to stay in the theatre. I viewed this film in a screening in our Film Studies seminar on European Cinema at UBC. As we sat there, horrified at the gruesome unfolding before us, we needed a point to collectively release our anxiety.
This point came in the kitchen seen just after La Femme calls Sarah's knitting needle bluff and bashes her in the head with the toaster. Just when La Femme is lighting up a cigarette, Sarah mysteriously finds an aerosol can of some flammable liquid with which to torch her foes face. Nearly everyone around me, myself included, burst into laughter at this moment.
This may be intentional on the part of the filmmakers, since an equally ridiculous scene occurs soon afterward. The police officer who had been shot in the head, stands up with zombie like dark spots for eyes, and proceeds to attack Sarah. Having already released our particular anxiety, we did not laugh at this, but it is certainly just as absurd as the home-made flame thrower.
A person can only watch so much painful material, before they check out emotionally. In this case, a film becomes a microcosmic case of emotional numbing. Adding these chances that allow for some laughter to serve as a defense mechanism for the audience without taking away from the action or plot, adds to the effectiveness of this film.
Haute tension/ High Tension (Alexandre Aja, 2003)
For most of the film, High Tension (Alexandre Aja, 2003) seems like an ultra-violent, painfully graphic, Hollywood Horror film, with a plot that is somewhat more interesting. The end of the film, though, changes the viewers perception of the film entirely. With an almost Shyamalanian ending, High Tension turns itself upside down in the last 15 minutes, with a truly shocking use of the infamous unreliable narrator (as suggested by the camera Marie is speaking to while in her cell in the institution), which may suggest the concept of a subjective reality, or simply justify an hour and a half of torturous violence.
One of the more underlying, yet fascinating, themes of this film is that of gender. As previously alluded, this is not quite the average genre flick. High Tension is a film that is very much aware of the conventions of the genre, and the expectations of the audience. This movie makes some drastic departures from the genre as far as gender is concerned but, aware of these conventions, does not do so immediately.
The big reveal at the end, that Marie is actually one and the same with the killer, is really what brings the questions of gender roles to the forefront. The genre does not, in general, make room for female killers. This is High Tension's way of having a deranged female killer work within a well defined construct. The expected situation is that a demented, disgusting man, will hunt down and attack the pretty girl, most notably citing Halloween (Carpenter, 1978). Perhaps because of her guilt, Marie is projecting herself onto a generic serial killer, who she, and we, feel is a more appropriate killer.
The guilt that drives her to insanity, or vice-versa, may not stem strictly from the murdering of Alex's entire family. Her sexuality is alluded to a few times throughout the film. The first notable instance is as she is smoking a cigarette outside on the swing, she watches Alex through her window. There is a clear homosexual tone to this film, which is highlighted by this scene. The other big sexual tie is the parallel between her masturbation, and the killer's. While certainly the nature of the later is far more disturbing, this could be how she thinks of herself in these actions, since he only exists in her world.
One of the more underlying, yet fascinating, themes of this film is that of gender. As previously alluded, this is not quite the average genre flick. High Tension is a film that is very much aware of the conventions of the genre, and the expectations of the audience. This movie makes some drastic departures from the genre as far as gender is concerned but, aware of these conventions, does not do so immediately.
The big reveal at the end, that Marie is actually one and the same with the killer, is really what brings the questions of gender roles to the forefront. The genre does not, in general, make room for female killers. This is High Tension's way of having a deranged female killer work within a well defined construct. The expected situation is that a demented, disgusting man, will hunt down and attack the pretty girl, most notably citing Halloween (Carpenter, 1978). Perhaps because of her guilt, Marie is projecting herself onto a generic serial killer, who she, and we, feel is a more appropriate killer.
The guilt that drives her to insanity, or vice-versa, may not stem strictly from the murdering of Alex's entire family. Her sexuality is alluded to a few times throughout the film. The first notable instance is as she is smoking a cigarette outside on the swing, she watches Alex through her window. There is a clear homosexual tone to this film, which is highlighted by this scene. The other big sexual tie is the parallel between her masturbation, and the killer's. While certainly the nature of the later is far more disturbing, this could be how she thinks of herself in these actions, since he only exists in her world.
13 March 2010
Catching up
I apologize to any readers for my utter lack of attention to this blog. I have been working on some more involved, research based writing for a while. Before that I went quite a while without posting though. I have decided (with Acacia's help) to list the films I have watched, but will not be blogging about, here in this post. Hopefully without the intimidating thought of being 15+ films behind I can get back on track. So, without further ado, the films I have viewed since (and before) my last post, with a "*" on films I think are interesting enough to recommend to you:
1) The Matrix (Andy Wachowski, Lana Wachowski, 1999)*
2) Bowling for Columbine (Michael Moore, 2002)*
3) Le Confessionnal (Robert Lepage, 1995)**
4) Match Point (Woody Allen, 2005)*
5) The Hours (Stephen Daldry, 2002)
6) Kurutta kajitsu (Kô Nakahira, 1956)
7) To Have and Have Not (Howard Hawks, 1944)*just because it's Hawks, Bogart, Bacall, and Hemingway
8) Der Wald vor lauter Bäumen - The Forest for the Trees (Maren Ade, 2003)
9) A Brief History of Time (Errol Morris, 1991)**
10) The Big One (Michael Moore, 1997)
11) Kanehsatake: 270 Years of Resistance (Alanis Obomsawin, 1993)
12) Alexandra's Project (Rolf de Heer, 2003)
13) The Darjeeling Limited (Wes Anderson, 2007)*
14) 8 1/2 (Federico Fellini, 1963)**
15) Wallace & Gromit in The Curse of the Were-Rabbit (Steve Box, Nick Park,, 2005)*
16) Mourir à tue-tête - Scream From Silence (Anne Claire Poirier, 1979)
17) Fast, Cheap and Out of Control (Errol Morris, 1997)*
I also watched a number of films specifically for a few papers I have recently finished which I will be posting on this blog in the up-coming days:
"Documenting Documentary: Cinematic Response to Fahrenheit 9/11"
- Fahrenheit 9/11 (Michael Moore, 2004)*
- Manufacturing Dissent (Rick Caine and Debbie Melnyk, 2007)*
- Fahrenhype 9/11 (Alan Peterson, 2004) -interesting for intensely flawed right-wing rhetoric and the interviews with the always ridiculous Ann Coulter
- Celsius 41.11: The Temperature at Which the Brain Begins to Die (Kevin Knoblock, 2004) - so ridiculous I don't even think it's worth watching
"David Croneneberg Gone Hollywood?: Defining a Canadian National Cinema in a Global Culture"
The following are all directed by David Cronenberg:
- Shivers (1975)
- Rabid (1977)
- Scanners (1981)
- Videodrome (1983)*
- Naked Lunch (1991)**
- Crash (1996)
- eXistenZ (1999)*really interesting for its almost simultaneous release with The Matrix
- Eastern Promises (2007)
I know there have been more, but i can't remember what they were, so... If I remember them, and they were worth sharing, I'll post them in a future entry.
1) The Matrix (Andy Wachowski, Lana Wachowski, 1999)*
2) Bowling for Columbine (Michael Moore, 2002)*
3) Le Confessionnal (Robert Lepage, 1995)**
4) Match Point (Woody Allen, 2005)*
5) The Hours (Stephen Daldry, 2002)
6) Kurutta kajitsu (Kô Nakahira, 1956)
7) To Have and Have Not (Howard Hawks, 1944)*just because it's Hawks, Bogart, Bacall, and Hemingway
8) Der Wald vor lauter Bäumen - The Forest for the Trees (Maren Ade, 2003)
9) A Brief History of Time (Errol Morris, 1991)**
10) The Big One (Michael Moore, 1997)
11) Kanehsatake: 270 Years of Resistance (Alanis Obomsawin, 1993)
12) Alexandra's Project (Rolf de Heer, 2003)
13) The Darjeeling Limited (Wes Anderson, 2007)*
14) 8 1/2 (Federico Fellini, 1963)**
15) Wallace & Gromit in The Curse of the Were-Rabbit (Steve Box, Nick Park,, 2005)*
16) Mourir à tue-tête - Scream From Silence (Anne Claire Poirier, 1979)
17) Fast, Cheap and Out of Control (Errol Morris, 1997)*
I also watched a number of films specifically for a few papers I have recently finished which I will be posting on this blog in the up-coming days:
"Documenting Documentary: Cinematic Response to Fahrenheit 9/11"
- Fahrenheit 9/11 (Michael Moore, 2004)*
- Manufacturing Dissent (Rick Caine and Debbie Melnyk, 2007)*
- Fahrenhype 9/11 (Alan Peterson, 2004) -interesting for intensely flawed right-wing rhetoric and the interviews with the always ridiculous Ann Coulter
- Celsius 41.11: The Temperature at Which the Brain Begins to Die (Kevin Knoblock, 2004) - so ridiculous I don't even think it's worth watching
"David Croneneberg Gone Hollywood?: Defining a Canadian National Cinema in a Global Culture"
The following are all directed by David Cronenberg:
- Shivers (1975)
- Rabid (1977)
- Scanners (1981)
- Videodrome (1983)*
- Naked Lunch (1991)**
- Crash (1996)
- eXistenZ (1999)*really interesting for its almost simultaneous release with The Matrix
- Eastern Promises (2007)
I know there have been more, but i can't remember what they were, so... If I remember them, and they were worth sharing, I'll post them in a future entry.
09 March 2010
Twentynine Palms (Dumont, 2003)
Bruno Dumont's reductionist look at human nature, and the human condition in Twentynine Palms (2003) is rather bleak. This film, in terms of narrative and entertainment does not fit the bill of your average southern California film. Set east of Hollywood in the town of Twentynine Palms outside of Joshua Tree National Park which, for those geographically impaired, is a desert. Essentially nothing happens in this film until the last 15 minutes or so, the rest is spent within the painfully mundane interactions of two rather boring people, who happen to be in the middle of nowhere.
David and Katia spend most of the film having conversations that make our everyday interactions seem interesting. Their actions are just as useless as their words. They spend the entire film bickering, having what looks like painful sex, and driving around in their Hummer. The cinematography, with it's long, wide shots of the beautiful yet desolate California desert reinforces the idea that these people (or people in general) are living pointless lives in meaningless world, trapped in their claustrophobic vehicles and motel rooms.
The ending of the film changes some of this. When they are randomly attacked amidst the desolation, by the only other people they interact with in the film, it gives a real sense of whatDumont thinks of humans. If we did not get it from this, David subsequently murders his girlfriend and then supposedly takes his own life in the desert. The only people we see in this film are beastly evil, violent, and sex craved.
David and Katia spend most of the film having conversations that make our everyday interactions seem interesting. Their actions are just as useless as their words. They spend the entire film bickering, having what looks like painful sex, and driving around in their Hummer. The cinematography, with it's long, wide shots of the beautiful yet desolate California desert reinforces the idea that these people (or people in general) are living pointless lives in meaningless world, trapped in their claustrophobic vehicles and motel rooms.
The ending of the film changes some of this. When they are randomly attacked amidst the desolation, by the only other people they interact with in the film, it gives a real sense of what
À ma soeur/ Fat Girl (Breillat, 2001)
À ma soeur (Catherine Breillat, 2001), also known by its strange non-translation English name, Fat Girl provides a shocking look at the sexual 'coming of age' so to speak of two sisters. The most controversial part of the film, and the most talked about in the reviews I have read is the last scene. More specifically, the last line in the film is arguably the most disturbing part of the film.
At the film's close the last words spoken by the young Anaïs to the police are that they "don't have to believe [her]." Some reviews interpret this as an admission of consent, and go so far as to say that she is happy with her mother and sister's outcome. This does not seem like a justified analysis of this statement.
Throughout the film, she is portrayed as the most 'normal' of the family. The father is an absent, disconnected, workaholic, the mother seems to have some skeletons in here closet and something else on her mind, and the older sister, Elena, is hysterically desperate for and delusional about 'womanhood' and sex. Although Anaïs is portrayed as extremely jealous of her older sister, and an over-eater, this things are both fairly normal and rational things for a twelve year old younger sibling to do.
She does make it known earlier in the film that she would like to lose her virginity to a 'nobody', but a murderous trucker is certainly not what she meant by that. In the scene she is clearly scared and upset, like her sister was, and neither of them truly wanted it. Finally, she is far to young to make that kind of decision. When asked if it was rape, she is too young to make the distinction, especially after such a traumatic event.
At the film's close the last words spoken by the young Anaïs to the police are that they "don't have to believe [her]." Some reviews interpret this as an admission of consent, and go so far as to say that she is happy with her mother and sister's outcome. This does not seem like a justified analysis of this statement.
Throughout the film, she is portrayed as the most 'normal' of the family. The father is an absent, disconnected, workaholic, the mother seems to have some skeletons in here closet and something else on her mind, and the older sister, Elena, is hysterically desperate for and delusional about 'womanhood' and sex. Although Anaïs is portrayed as extremely jealous of her older sister, and an over-eater, this things are both fairly normal and rational things for a twelve year old younger sibling to do.
She does make it known earlier in the film that she would like to lose her virginity to a 'nobody', but a murderous trucker is certainly not what she meant by that. In the scene she is clearly scared and upset, like her sister was, and neither of them truly wanted it. Finally, she is far to young to make that kind of decision. When asked if it was rape, she is too young to make the distinction, especially after such a traumatic event.
10 February 2010
Whispering City (Otsep, 1947)
Whispering City (Fyodor Otsep, 1947) is the English language version of La forteresse produced simultaneously by the same crew. Ostep is a Russian expat. The main actors in Whispering City are American, but the rest are French-Canadian. Many reviews claim that the French version is much better, but I have not yet seen it.
It is a peculiar movie. It appears to me to be feeding off of conventions of Hollywood genre cinema, but gets them mixed up. The majority of the film, including the premise, is very much rooted in the Film Noir tradition. It tries its best to use as much Noir iconography as possible (decanted liquor, cigarettes, hats, guns, etc..).
Some important aspects of the Film Noir are missing. There is no 'femme fatale'. Instead, the witty, fast-talking, news reporter main female character, Mary Roberts (Mary Anderson) seems to be pulled straight from a screwball comedy (à la His Girl Friday [Howard Hawks, 1940]). There is some use of light/shadow, but very little. There is no real sense of claustrophobic spaces. The concept of the 'mean streets of the urban city' is underplayed by the picturesque location of Québec City.
There are some scenes that work extremely well, and make for a compelling story. There are other though, that seem so contrived, and make such an attempt to be 'Hollywood' that they are merely laughable. It is an entertaining film, that may leave a viewer that is conscious of Hollywood conventions, and that this film was made in Canada chuckling.
It is a peculiar movie. It appears to me to be feeding off of conventions of Hollywood genre cinema, but gets them mixed up. The majority of the film, including the premise, is very much rooted in the Film Noir tradition. It tries its best to use as much Noir iconography as possible (decanted liquor, cigarettes, hats, guns, etc..).
Some important aspects of the Film Noir are missing. There is no 'femme fatale'. Instead, the witty, fast-talking, news reporter main female character, Mary Roberts (Mary Anderson) seems to be pulled straight from a screwball comedy (à la His Girl Friday [Howard Hawks, 1940]). There is some use of light/shadow, but very little. There is no real sense of claustrophobic spaces. The concept of the 'mean streets of the urban city' is underplayed by the picturesque location of Québec City.
There are some scenes that work extremely well, and make for a compelling story. There are other though, that seem so contrived, and make such an attempt to be 'Hollywood' that they are merely laughable. It is an entertaining film, that may leave a viewer that is conscious of Hollywood conventions, and that this film was made in Canada chuckling.
09 February 2010
In Bruges (McDanagh, 2008)
Martin McDonagh's 2008 film, In Bruges feels a little like a poorly made Hollywood hit-man or buddy flick, but is much more. The coarsely offensive dialogue, and painfully contrived action sequences (which garner zero attention from law enforcement) act as evidence of the absurdity of life in the existential character study.
After a job goes wrong, and a young boy gets killed by Ray's (Colin Farrell) stray gunfire, Ray and his older, calmer partner Ken (Brendan Gleeson) are sent to the purgatory-on-Earth that is Bruges, Belgium. It is not too surprising that a British film about two Irishmen would have such strong religious overtones. While they are not religious men, they are searching for the meaning of life. Through all of the absurdity they encounter, Ray begins to believe there is no meaning and that there is nothing to live for, especially after killing a child. Ken seems to take the side that there may not be something inherently meaningful in life, it is what you do with it that counts.
Ray's interest in the film set is a meta-filmic reminder that the world he is in is, in fact, fiction. Through the people he meets on set, Chloe (Clémence Poésy) and Jimmy (Jordan Prentice), he is brought into an entirely ridiculous world of drugs, racism, prostitution, and criminal on criminal violence. Even when it seems as if he has made it out of Bruges, and moved onto salvation, the first and only sign of law enforcement removes him from his train for a scuffle in a restaurant with a 'Canadian'. His absurdity comes to a climax when, after being shot he stumbles back onto the film set and does not recognize it as such and literally enters into a "fairytale".
Ken's attempt to save Ray by sacrificing himself to warn him and provide a weapon for his protection is ultimately in vain. Ken attempts to, after all of the bad things he has done, do something to help someone, thereby giving meaning to his life. He is not so much a Christ figure, as another victim of this existential tragedy.
After a job goes wrong, and a young boy gets killed by Ray's (Colin Farrell) stray gunfire, Ray and his older, calmer partner Ken (Brendan Gleeson) are sent to the purgatory-on-Earth that is Bruges, Belgium. It is not too surprising that a British film about two Irishmen would have such strong religious overtones. While they are not religious men, they are searching for the meaning of life. Through all of the absurdity they encounter, Ray begins to believe there is no meaning and that there is nothing to live for, especially after killing a child. Ken seems to take the side that there may not be something inherently meaningful in life, it is what you do with it that counts.
Ray's interest in the film set is a meta-filmic reminder that the world he is in is, in fact, fiction. Through the people he meets on set, Chloe (Clémence Poésy) and Jimmy (Jordan Prentice), he is brought into an entirely ridiculous world of drugs, racism, prostitution, and criminal on criminal violence. Even when it seems as if he has made it out of Bruges, and moved onto salvation, the first and only sign of law enforcement removes him from his train for a scuffle in a restaurant with a 'Canadian'. His absurdity comes to a climax when, after being shot he stumbles back onto the film set and does not recognize it as such and literally enters into a "fairytale".
Ken's attempt to save Ray by sacrificing himself to warn him and provide a weapon for his protection is ultimately in vain. Ken attempts to, after all of the bad things he has done, do something to help someone, thereby giving meaning to his life. He is not so much a Christ figure, as another victim of this existential tragedy.
Sexy Beast (Glazer, 2000)
In many ways, Sexy Beast (Jonathan Glazer, 2000) is a standard 'heist' film. There is a place containing an abundance of valuable material, but has the best security system. The boss wants to pull together a team of all-star burglars to do the job. Our protagonist is the retired veteran that the whole plan hinges on. In reality though, it is much different. Sexy Beast not only plays with the conventions of the heist film, it incorporates stylistic techniques that are completely foreign to the genre.
Glazer uses flashback to fill in the background for much of the story, which opens after Gary 'Gal' Dove (Ray Winstone) has retired to a fantasy-like Spanish villa. This technique is not new to the heist film, but does stir up the story, revealing crucial information to the audience in small bite-sized doses. We even cut away from scenes before the climax and get the rest of the information through flashback, such as the last few moments of the super-disturbed Don Logan (Ben Kingsley).
A more uncommon stylistic choice is the use of fantastic or elements that are do not fit in our world. The most notable of these elements is the recurrence of the demented rabbit figure that haunts Gal and eventually is damned to eternity with Don underneath Gal's pool. This creature, which puzzlingly bears more than a striking resemblance to 'Frank' from Richard Kelly's film from the same year, Donnie Darko, does not seem to exist strictly in a 'dream' world. The final shot that takes us underneath the repaired broken heart at the bottom of the pool, while revealing the Dove families proverbial skeletons in the closet, also suggests that the rabbit is more of a living symbol than a dream fantasy. The rabbit figure seems to represent many things in this film, including innocence, secrets, lies and guilt.
Glazer uses flashback to fill in the background for much of the story, which opens after Gary 'Gal' Dove (Ray Winstone) has retired to a fantasy-like Spanish villa. This technique is not new to the heist film, but does stir up the story, revealing crucial information to the audience in small bite-sized doses. We even cut away from scenes before the climax and get the rest of the information through flashback, such as the last few moments of the super-disturbed Don Logan (Ben Kingsley).
A more uncommon stylistic choice is the use of fantastic or elements that are do not fit in our world. The most notable of these elements is the recurrence of the demented rabbit figure that haunts Gal and eventually is damned to eternity with Don underneath Gal's pool. This creature, which puzzlingly bears more than a striking resemblance to 'Frank' from Richard Kelly's film from the same year, Donnie Darko, does not seem to exist strictly in a 'dream' world. The final shot that takes us underneath the repaired broken heart at the bottom of the pool, while revealing the Dove families proverbial skeletons in the closet, also suggests that the rabbit is more of a living symbol than a dream fantasy. The rabbit figure seems to represent many things in this film, including innocence, secrets, lies and guilt.
07 February 2010
Alice in Wonderland (Geronimi, Jackson, Luske, 1951)
Wandering through the stacks at UBC's Walter C. Koerner library a few months ago, a title caught my eye. I was not reading a book at the time, so I decided to grab it. Once I had finished Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland I had to go back to see the Disney film, Alice in Wonderland (Clyde Geronimi, Wilfred Jackson, Hamilton Luske, 1951)
Upon watching the film, I was disappointed to find out that it takes episodes from both the aforementioned novel, as well as Carroll's other Alice story, Through the Looking-Glass. There are several adventures that I rather enjoyed from the novel that are left out as well, such as the flood in the room with the table and the locked door or her encounter with the Mock Turtle and the Gryphon.
The film takes instances from two stories and weaves them into a wonderful story all its own. It does not quite tackle the existential turmoil that Alice experiences in the book, nor does it contain the play with words or science to the extent that Carroll does. It does not leave these out completely though. Along with the beautiful animation and score Alice in Wonderland stays true to Carroll's work as well as making it truly Disney (and not in a bad way).
03 February 2010
Gates of Heaven (Morris, 1978)
Errol Morris' directorial debut Gates of Heaven (1978) is a peculiar documentary concerning pet cemeteries, and the people associated with them. It starts out introducing a man whose life long dream is to open a pet cemetery, because when he was young he buried his dog in a beautiful place on his property, and then buried the neighbor's dog there as well. He believed that people's animals deserve a proper burial because of the love they give to their 'masters'.
Floyd and his buddies tell the story of the cemetery that they put together, and how it was shut down. The film then moves from where these guys are in the south SF bay area to Napa, California where there is another pet cemetery. We get interviews with various people involved with this one.
Gates does not seem to have a clear thesis, or even focus. It feels exploratory more than anything. It is, more than anything, a very clear beginning to Errol Morris' filmmaking style.
The interviews are very 'real'. When interviewees are talking, it is not clear what the question they are answering is. It seems really as if there was no question at all, that Morris just turned on the camera and let these people speak. In this way we get what feels like moments of 'truth' the way film rarely can capture.
In one interview there is an old woman who begins talking about her dog that was buried in the cemetery, but soon begins talking about her life in general. With no cuts we watch this woman essentially rambling about her experiences for several minutes. She is not answering guiding questions, she is speaking from her heart. In a moment of absolute reality, a car starts off-screen and startles the woman. We see a completely honest reaction to an actual event in the context of a set-up interview.
Morris uses people's own words to construct a film that has a topic, but is ultimately about human beings. We hear people's thoughts on love and the nature of the human-pet relationship. We also hear about people's own passions, philosophies and goals, apart from their pets. It is a look into true human emotions.
Floyd and his buddies tell the story of the cemetery that they put together, and how it was shut down. The film then moves from where these guys are in the south SF bay area to Napa, California where there is another pet cemetery. We get interviews with various people involved with this one.
Gates does not seem to have a clear thesis, or even focus. It feels exploratory more than anything. It is, more than anything, a very clear beginning to Errol Morris' filmmaking style.
The interviews are very 'real'. When interviewees are talking, it is not clear what the question they are answering is. It seems really as if there was no question at all, that Morris just turned on the camera and let these people speak. In this way we get what feels like moments of 'truth' the way film rarely can capture.
In one interview there is an old woman who begins talking about her dog that was buried in the cemetery, but soon begins talking about her life in general. With no cuts we watch this woman essentially rambling about her experiences for several minutes. She is not answering guiding questions, she is speaking from her heart. In a moment of absolute reality, a car starts off-screen and startles the woman. We see a completely honest reaction to an actual event in the context of a set-up interview.
Morris uses people's own words to construct a film that has a topic, but is ultimately about human beings. We hear people's thoughts on love and the nature of the human-pet relationship. We also hear about people's own passions, philosophies and goals, apart from their pets. It is a look into true human emotions.
02 February 2010
The Lives of Others (Das Leben der Anderen) (Donnersmarck, 2006)
Sound is an extremely important component to Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck's 2006 film, The Lives of Others. We learn crucial plot points through sound. The musical score gives clues and guides the viewer. Sound even becomes a major theme around which the story hinges.
Wiesler (Ulrich Mühe) is doing surveillance for East Germany's secret police, and spends his life
listening. He moves his gear in above writer Georg Dreyman's (Sebastian Koch) apartment in order to find out if he has any ties to West Germany. He pieces together the story of Dreyman's life through what he hears hidden microphones and phone taps. Dreyman believes that he and his friends have a freedom to speak in his apartment, but their voices betray them through Wiesler's eavesdropping.
Music also plays a large role in the film. The title of a musical piece "Sonata of a Good Man" later becomes the name of a book Dreyman writes. The music lifts the spirts of Dreyman, and even Wiesler through the wires. Dreyman quotes Lenin in regards to music as saying if he listened to music he would not be able to finish the revolution. Art, whether it be drama, literature, or music can change people. Things that are inherently good inside people are brought out by art.
The 'Stasi' big brother tactics rely on recording of sound to serve as incriminating evidence. Along with Wiesler, we learn things about about Dreyman and his wife, Christa-Maria Sieland through their voices. Donnersmarck does give the audience the privledge of seeing as well as hearing much of the time, but the aspect of the importance of sound is never down-played.
Wiesler (Ulrich Mühe) is doing surveillance for East Germany's secret police, and spends his life
listening. He moves his gear in above writer Georg Dreyman's (Sebastian Koch) apartment in order to find out if he has any ties to West Germany. He pieces together the story of Dreyman's life through what he hears hidden microphones and phone taps. Dreyman believes that he and his friends have a freedom to speak in his apartment, but their voices betray them through Wiesler's eavesdropping.
Music also plays a large role in the film. The title of a musical piece "Sonata of a Good Man" later becomes the name of a book Dreyman writes. The music lifts the spirts of Dreyman, and even Wiesler through the wires. Dreyman quotes Lenin in regards to music as saying if he listened to music he would not be able to finish the revolution. Art, whether it be drama, literature, or music can change people. Things that are inherently good inside people are brought out by art.
The 'Stasi' big brother tactics rely on recording of sound to serve as incriminating evidence. Along with Wiesler, we learn things about about Dreyman and his wife, Christa-Maria Sieland through their voices. Donnersmarck does give the audience the privledge of seeing as well as hearing much of the time, but the aspect of the importance of sound is never down-played.
4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days (4 luni, 3 saptamâni si 2 zile) (Mungiu, 2007)
4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days (Cristian Mungiu, 2007) displays extraordinarily simple cinematography and editing. This brings the audience much closer to the characters, and lets an already extremely tense situation speak for itself. More complicated camera work and editing might distract from the raw emotional impact of this film.
The camera in this film is most often either sitting still or following Otilia (Anamaria Marinca) in an anxious, hand-held fashion. Both of these give a sense of immediacy to the situation, especially the shaky hand-held shots. This story takes place in the span of one day, and quite a bit happens in these young girls' lives. There is no time for tracking or cranes.
The story does not follow a girl who is having an abortion, or the doctor performing it, it follows the girl's friend who is helping her. This is reflected in the stationary shots. Much like Otilia, we do a lot of sitting and watching. These kinds of shots can also convey a sense of contemplation. There are hard decisions made in this film, and we are able to see the characters making them.
The editing is equally as simple and possibly more effective. There are so few cuts in this film it is astounding. Shots are regularly held for minutes. This truly gives a sense of the tension involved in this story. At the dinner table at Adi's house we get one long take of Otilia becoming more and more anxious. She is preoccupied with helping Gabriela and what she had to do for her, her relationship with Adi and the quarrel over Otilia's comparatively insignificant act of leaving the party before his mother serves the meringue, and having to listen to Adi's upper class family defame the social class of her upbringing.
Through extremely simple cinematography and editing, 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days takes a microcosmic look at intense issues of oppressive government and class struggles in a post Cold War Romania. Rather than learn about these issues through a preachy message, we see how the characters are forced to deal with them in one harrowing day.
The camera in this film is most often either sitting still or following Otilia (Anamaria Marinca) in an anxious, hand-held fashion. Both of these give a sense of immediacy to the situation, especially the shaky hand-held shots. This story takes place in the span of one day, and quite a bit happens in these young girls' lives. There is no time for tracking or cranes.
The story does not follow a girl who is having an abortion, or the doctor performing it, it follows the girl's friend who is helping her. This is reflected in the stationary shots. Much like Otilia, we do a lot of sitting and watching. These kinds of shots can also convey a sense of contemplation. There are hard decisions made in this film, and we are able to see the characters making them.
The editing is equally as simple and possibly more effective. There are so few cuts in this film it is astounding. Shots are regularly held for minutes. This truly gives a sense of the tension involved in this story. At the dinner table at Adi's house we get one long take of Otilia becoming more and more anxious. She is preoccupied with helping Gabriela and what she had to do for her, her relationship with Adi and the quarrel over Otilia's comparatively insignificant act of leaving the party before his mother serves the meringue, and having to listen to Adi's upper class family defame the social class of her upbringing.
Through extremely simple cinematography and editing, 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days takes a microcosmic look at intense issues of oppressive government and class struggles in a post Cold War Romania. Rather than learn about these issues through a preachy message, we see how the characters are forced to deal with them in one harrowing day.
27 January 2010
Rachel Getting Married (Demme, 2008)
My main issue with Rachel Getting Married (Jonathan Demme, 2008) is not even the film itself. Starring Anne Hathaway, and with a title that consists of a woman's name, and marriage one immediately expects a chick flick. This film is not that.
This trickery of audiences presumably to fill the seats of the multiplex with couples ('cause you know that's two seats, not one) is not too subtle, nor clever.
With a rather boring story, and not a single character to relate to Rachel subjects its audience to nearly two hours of excruciatingly painful moments. This is where I think Demme really accomplishes his goal.
In a scene of extraordinary awkwardness, Kym (Hathaway) gives a self-centered speech at the rehearsal dinner for her sister, Rachel's (Rosemarie DeWitt) wedding. During the course of this speech, the viewer experiences a vast array of emotions, and by the end of it you are angry and painfully frustrated. To create such an intense response from an otherwise emotionally disconnected viewer is impressive. Other than re-painting the picture that this family is screwed up beyond belief though, I am not sure what it does for the film. But Demme's effort to piss off his audience did the trick.
I must mention the camera work. Having watched this film just days after watching Dogville (Lars von Trier, 2003) I noticed quite a similar style. Demme uses this style (of smash zooms, fumbling hand-held movements, and focus hunting) to give a sense of realism, immediacy, and also use the fact that one of the characters spends the entire film wielding a camcorder. Rather than accomplish this, the cinematography seems to annoy the viewer more than anything (especially the couple in the multiplex expecting Anne Hathaway, as Rachel, to have a touching love life). Von Trier on the other hand uses almost the exact same style five years earlier for a very applicable reason. Dogville is extremely Brechtian, and this sort of cinematography constantly brings attention to the fact that you are, indeed, watching a film. Demmes application of much the same style (with in fact the same camera) is much more for the aesthetic style, than for any real reason.
As a movie to watch for fun, I do not think this is it. As a movie for something to think about, I also do not really think this is it. Rachel falls short in both respects, but attempts both in an interesting way. I also wonder if it is more than coincidence that Kym's haunting history of her dead brother is extremely reminiscent of the much more thought out 2007 film The Tracey Fragments, starring Ellen Page, by Canadian filmmaker Bruce McDonald.
This trickery of audiences presumably to fill the seats of the multiplex with couples ('cause you know that's two seats, not one) is not too subtle, nor clever.
With a rather boring story, and not a single character to relate to Rachel subjects its audience to nearly two hours of excruciatingly painful moments. This is where I think Demme really accomplishes his goal.
In a scene of extraordinary awkwardness, Kym (Hathaway) gives a self-centered speech at the rehearsal dinner for her sister, Rachel's (Rosemarie DeWitt) wedding. During the course of this speech, the viewer experiences a vast array of emotions, and by the end of it you are angry and painfully frustrated. To create such an intense response from an otherwise emotionally disconnected viewer is impressive. Other than re-painting the picture that this family is screwed up beyond belief though, I am not sure what it does for the film. But Demme's effort to piss off his audience did the trick.
I must mention the camera work. Having watched this film just days after watching Dogville (Lars von Trier, 2003) I noticed quite a similar style. Demme uses this style (of smash zooms, fumbling hand-held movements, and focus hunting) to give a sense of realism, immediacy, and also use the fact that one of the characters spends the entire film wielding a camcorder. Rather than accomplish this, the cinematography seems to annoy the viewer more than anything (especially the couple in the multiplex expecting Anne Hathaway, as Rachel, to have a touching love life). Von Trier on the other hand uses almost the exact same style five years earlier for a very applicable reason. Dogville is extremely Brechtian, and this sort of cinematography constantly brings attention to the fact that you are, indeed, watching a film. Demmes application of much the same style (with in fact the same camera) is much more for the aesthetic style, than for any real reason.
As a movie to watch for fun, I do not think this is it. As a movie for something to think about, I also do not really think this is it. Rachel falls short in both respects, but attempts both in an interesting way. I also wonder if it is more than coincidence that Kym's haunting history of her dead brother is extremely reminiscent of the much more thought out 2007 film The Tracey Fragments, starring Ellen Page, by Canadian filmmaker Bruce McDonald.
26 January 2010
The Wind that Shakes the Barley (Loach, 2006)
The Wind that Shakes the Barley (Ken Loach, 2006) uses characters of common Irish people to depict the beginnings of Ireland's war with itself. An issue this intense is often reduced in our minds to a political situation, that indirectly affects human beings, especially when it began over 100 years ago. Rather than it focusing on the political figures, like Neil Jordan's Michael Collins from ten years earlier, Barley deals with how this situation impacted the lives of Irish families.
The treaty splitting the two brothers, Damien and Teddy, shows how divided Ireland was and remains. The country is split down to its very core. Even two brothers, fighting for the same thing, end up against one another. The impact of seeing this is much stronger to the viewer, emotionally, than seeing what it was like in Dublin on the political front.
The relative absence of religion in this film is intriguing. There is only one major seen that involves religion at all, and it is when Damien argues with the priest at mass, and storms out of the church. Religion is a huge part of Irish life, as seen through cinema, that it is strange to see a film the nearly omits it. This may be an attempt to show that it is not a religious war being fought. It is a bit strange that it is Damien that storms out, because generally it is the Irish Republic that is associated with Catholicism, and the Loyalists that are associated with Protestantism. But, Teddy stays in the church, and Damien leaves.
The depiction of the British is a bit strange as well. They are completely demonized, which would make some sense, if Ken Loach wasn't English himself. The British soldiers are seen as always in the wrong, torturing and murdering innocent people. This may be the way the British see their history. They see that what their government did to the Irish was wrong.
The treaty splitting the two brothers, Damien and Teddy, shows how divided Ireland was and remains. The country is split down to its very core. Even two brothers, fighting for the same thing, end up against one another. The impact of seeing this is much stronger to the viewer, emotionally, than seeing what it was like in Dublin on the political front.
The relative absence of religion in this film is intriguing. There is only one major seen that involves religion at all, and it is when Damien argues with the priest at mass, and storms out of the church. Religion is a huge part of Irish life, as seen through cinema, that it is strange to see a film the nearly omits it. This may be an attempt to show that it is not a religious war being fought. It is a bit strange that it is Damien that storms out, because generally it is the Irish Republic that is associated with Catholicism, and the Loyalists that are associated with Protestantism. But, Teddy stays in the church, and Damien leaves.
The depiction of the British is a bit strange as well. They are completely demonized, which would make some sense, if Ken Loach wasn't English himself. The British soldiers are seen as always in the wrong, torturing and murdering innocent people. This may be the way the British see their history. They see that what their government did to the Irish was wrong.
No Man's Land (Tanovic, 2001)
The cinematography in No Man's Land (Danis Tanovic, 2001) is rather interesting. It follows many of the conventions of the genre, but transgresses others. When an artillery shell is fired at Ciki and Cera, the camera shakes as the shell explodes, and throws their bodies flying. This is quite common in war films; it makes the explosion seem more real, and gets the viewer further immersed into the story. There are also POV shots, which I believe also fall well into the generic conventions, again creating a sense of realism.
There are instances though, in which No Man's Land's cinematography strays from what I would expect form a war film. The film includes extreme long shots that display the beauty of Bosnia and Herzegovina (although it was actually shot in Slovenia). These and many other shots emphasize the lush green grass, and the stunningly blue sky. I would expect a film like this to aim for a color palette that would match the mood of war more closely.
Rather than detracting from the film, the transgression from generic norms serves its purpose well. Showing the area in its actual beauty, rather than justifying the war with muted colors, shows the absurdity of war. It is almost as if it begs the question "why fight in such a glorious place". It also shows an international audience that would not necessarily know, that it is a beautiful place.
In terms of the POV shots, they are mostly from Ciki's point of view. We seem to see the world through the Bosnian eye. While the film generally shows that neither side is right in this war, I get the feeling that the audience is meant to lean toward the Bosnian side. We are first introduced to the Bosnians, who are then attacked by the clearly more powerful Serbs. We do not just stay in the trench though. The camera goes to UNPROFOR headquarters and to the TV station. Our vision is not limited to Ciki's, but even though he seems the least willing to cooperate, and is the most violent, we tend to identify with him.
There are instances though, in which No Man's Land's cinematography strays from what I would expect form a war film. The film includes extreme long shots that display the beauty of Bosnia and Herzegovina (although it was actually shot in Slovenia). These and many other shots emphasize the lush green grass, and the stunningly blue sky. I would expect a film like this to aim for a color palette that would match the mood of war more closely.
Rather than detracting from the film, the transgression from generic norms serves its purpose well. Showing the area in its actual beauty, rather than justifying the war with muted colors, shows the absurdity of war. It is almost as if it begs the question "why fight in such a glorious place". It also shows an international audience that would not necessarily know, that it is a beautiful place.
In terms of the POV shots, they are mostly from Ciki's point of view. We seem to see the world through the Bosnian eye. While the film generally shows that neither side is right in this war, I get the feeling that the audience is meant to lean toward the Bosnian side. We are first introduced to the Bosnians, who are then attacked by the clearly more powerful Serbs. We do not just stay in the trench though. The camera goes to UNPROFOR headquarters and to the TV station. Our vision is not limited to Ciki's, but even though he seems the least willing to cooperate, and is the most violent, we tend to identify with him.
22 January 2010
Atanarjuat (Kunuk, 2001)
Atanarjuat (Zacharias Kunuk, 2001) - aka The Fast Runner -was the first feature film ever written in Inuktitut. It is acted and produced by an almost exclusively Inuit crew. It was shot in Igloolik in the territory we call Nunavut, Canada. It is the telling of a thousand plus year old story passed down through the generations.
This film really takes a lot of pondering, and digesting after the fact. It is three hours in duration, and is packed with an intense story, set in a world very foreign, to me at least. It is set 1000 years ago, in a place far from here, but it does not feel like it.
Atanarjuat was shot digitally, and with a rather hand-held feel. This, combined with the foreign location, and certainly other aspects that I cannon pinpoint, give it a kind of documentary feel. I most certainly is not a documentary though, being a fictional story deriving from a 1000 year old oral tradition.
It is indirectly educational, though. It gives viewers a chance to hear a language they would not otherwise here, for three hours. It also gives them a chance to see, and get intimate with a part of the world that is foreign, and harsh. It also lets us see and hear traditions, and stories from the point of view of the culture from which they come.
This film really takes a lot of pondering, and digesting after the fact. It is three hours in duration, and is packed with an intense story, set in a world very foreign, to me at least. It is set 1000 years ago, in a place far from here, but it does not feel like it.
Atanarjuat was shot digitally, and with a rather hand-held feel. This, combined with the foreign location, and certainly other aspects that I cannon pinpoint, give it a kind of documentary feel. I most certainly is not a documentary though, being a fictional story deriving from a 1000 year old oral tradition.
It is indirectly educational, though. It gives viewers a chance to hear a language they would not otherwise here, for three hours. It also gives them a chance to see, and get intimate with a part of the world that is foreign, and harsh. It also lets us see and hear traditions, and stories from the point of view of the culture from which they come.
The Point! (Wolf, 1971)
The Point! (Fred Wolf, 1971) is an animated feature film based on a story and music by Harry Nilsson. It stars the voice talents of Ringo Starr of the Beatles (for the home video release at least, the various telecast talents include: Dustin Hoffman, Alan Barzman, and Alan Thicke). This is an interesting connection because the animation is very reminiscent of Yellow Submarine (George Dunning, 1968). I could not find any common animators between the two, but they are very similar in style, and even content.
The Point is about a father telling his son a story about a place where everything and everyone "has a point", except one little boy named Oblio. Oblio is banished for having a rounded head, and him and his dog get sent to the Pointless Forest.
It is a pretty simple story, clearly derived from a drug trip. It is rather fun though. The Harry Nilsson music acompanying some pretty crazy animation sequences are awesome.
It's a solid allegory for the civil right movement. You really pull for the kid that is shunned for being different. He realizes that he is not really different than anyone else. He realizes everything's got a point, even in the pointless forest, and himself with his rounded head.
The Point is about a father telling his son a story about a place where everything and everyone "has a point", except one little boy named Oblio. Oblio is banished for having a rounded head, and him and his dog get sent to the Pointless Forest.
It is a pretty simple story, clearly derived from a drug trip. It is rather fun though. The Harry Nilsson music acompanying some pretty crazy animation sequences are awesome.
It's a solid allegory for the civil right movement. You really pull for the kid that is shunned for being different. He realizes that he is not really different than anyone else. He realizes everything's got a point, even in the pointless forest, and himself with his rounded head.
20 January 2010
Dogville (Von Trier, 2003)
Dogville (Lars von Trier, 2003) is a most unusual film stylistically speaking. The entire film is shot apparently in one room, with all four walls digitally-composited black or white depending on the time of day. There are no real buildings, and few props. Minus the few cars this film is minimalist even for a play. All walls in the cinematic world are imaginary, but are drawn on the ground. The audience cannot help but think of Bertolt Brecht, in the detached, self-reflective approach the audience is forced to take to the film.
The cinematography is almost as unconventional as the set design. Although there is a credited cinematographer, Lars von Trier himself gets the camera operator credit. This seems very strange and I wonder what that all means. In any case, the hand-held camera, smash zooms, and what I would call 'focus hunting' all bring a great deal of emphasis to the fact that you are watching a film.
Sound plays an interestingly meta-filmic role in this film as well. Although there are very few real set pieces and props, as in traditional cinema, there is a full foley team creating all of the sounds of a more traditional film. The particular sound that catches my ear is the sound of the doors. It is obvious that the sound is recorded from something much more solid than the floating doors on the set of Dogville.
Yet another unconventional aspect of this film is its duration. Dogville runs nearly a full three hours. If nothing else, this will remind the audience that they are watching a movie. Sitting for three hours is quite a long time, and most viewers are going to notice that they have been watching this movie for that long. The duration, however works quite well with the tone and the pace of the story. Unlike many other films that are far too long for their own good, Dogville rightfully reaches the 178th minute.
The unconventional style of Dogville certainly forces the audience to think. There is definitely a statement about society, and human nature. I am very unclear however, that even von Trier knows which side the film takes.
The cinematography is almost as unconventional as the set design. Although there is a credited cinematographer, Lars von Trier himself gets the camera operator credit. This seems very strange and I wonder what that all means. In any case, the hand-held camera, smash zooms, and what I would call 'focus hunting' all bring a great deal of emphasis to the fact that you are watching a film.
Sound plays an interestingly meta-filmic role in this film as well. Although there are very few real set pieces and props, as in traditional cinema, there is a full foley team creating all of the sounds of a more traditional film. The particular sound that catches my ear is the sound of the doors. It is obvious that the sound is recorded from something much more solid than the floating doors on the set of Dogville.
Yet another unconventional aspect of this film is its duration. Dogville runs nearly a full three hours. If nothing else, this will remind the audience that they are watching a movie. Sitting for three hours is quite a long time, and most viewers are going to notice that they have been watching this movie for that long. The duration, however works quite well with the tone and the pace of the story. Unlike many other films that are far too long for their own good, Dogville rightfully reaches the 178th minute.
The unconventional style of Dogville certainly forces the audience to think. There is definitely a statement about society, and human nature. I am very unclear however, that even von Trier knows which side the film takes.
19 January 2010
Downfall (Hirschbiegel, 2004)
While obviously the film is an interesting look into the last painful moments of a very troubled Adolf Hitler's life, there are three other things that I find very interesting about Downfall (Oliver Hirschbiegel, 2004). The first being the introduction and conclusion. The second is the way the film treats women. The third is the gratuitous suicide.
It is quite common for a historical film and/or biopic to give a recap of the events that happened in real life after the film ends it gives the film more historical credibility. The addition of interview footage with the real Traudl Junge is very interesting indeed. It comes surprisingly at the beginning and the end. Its effect really only goes that far. What she says is rather unimportant compared to the fact that she is there.
That ties in with the second aspect of this film that jumps out. I do not know whether it was an attempt to recreate the actual atmosphere at the time or not, but the women in this film are not treated well. They are portrayed as more blind than the incompetent military men around them. They are even portrayed as evil, as we painfully watch Magda Goebbels (Corinna Harfouch) kill all five of her children.
Finally, countless people die just by suicide, never mind all the casualties of war and the almost never talked about victims of the death camps. The audience becomes numb and the final climax of the film does not do much to the emotions. The film is just so full of death and destruction that the audience becomes desensitized and emotionally drained.
It is quite common for a historical film and/or biopic to give a recap of the events that happened in real life after the film ends it gives the film more historical credibility. The addition of interview footage with the real Traudl Junge is very interesting indeed. It comes surprisingly at the beginning and the end. Its effect really only goes that far. What she says is rather unimportant compared to the fact that she is there.
That ties in with the second aspect of this film that jumps out. I do not know whether it was an attempt to recreate the actual atmosphere at the time or not, but the women in this film are not treated well. They are portrayed as more blind than the incompetent military men around them. They are even portrayed as evil, as we painfully watch Magda Goebbels (Corinna Harfouch) kill all five of her children.
Finally, countless people die just by suicide, never mind all the casualties of war and the almost never talked about victims of the death camps. The audience becomes numb and the final climax of the film does not do much to the emotions. The film is just so full of death and destruction that the audience becomes desensitized and emotionally drained.
Walk on Water (Eytan Fox, 2004)
The Israeli film Walk on Water (Eytan Fox, 2004) deals with far too many immensely important issues to successfully make a meaningful statement on those issues. Among the issues addressed in the film are: World War II and the Holocaust as well as their implications today in Israel and Germany, conflicts in the Middle East, religious battles, terrorism, homosexuality, and I would even add that how the US plays into all of these is important as well. Clearly, how each one of these issues works in this film deserves its own lengthy essay, so I will necessarily be far too brief.
The film's main focus seems to be equally oriented around the relationship between Germans and Israeli's post WWII, and the relationship between Israelis and Palestinians including between organizations that represent them.
As far as the WWII aspect goes, the film is quite neutral. Well, at least politically correct(ish). Nazis are bad, and today's Germans and Israelis are good. We identify with both our protagonists, the Israeli/German Eyal (Lior Ashkenazi) of Jewish decent (although there is a streak of evil deeds, we sympathize with him), as well as the German Axel (Knut Berger). The film shows us that there is a deep internal struggle within the lives of both of these people and their families and neighbors.
The approach to the Israeli/Palestinian conflict is a bit more troublesome. Although Eyal is seen a bit as an extreme case, and Rafik (Yousef 'Joe' Sweid) as an alright guy, this film is clearly from the Israeli perspective. There is no understanding of why the people from the other side of the fence believe the things they do, and the film openly admits that. Yet I still get a sense of underlying hatred.
The homosexuality seems to be rather out of place, as if this film was not attempting to tackle enough important issues and had to pick up another. It just does not seem to work. The end is rather out of the blue. There is hardly any attraction throughout the film between Pia and Eyal, but him and Axel get very close. In addition, the scene in which Eyal beats up the German's who are harassing Axel's friends seems to be purely for the purpose of a fight scene. Maybe it shows Eyal can show compassion toward people he does think he likes.
Lastly, the repetition of Buffalo Springfield's song, "For What It's Worth" is a bit interesting. There is a cover version that is played twice, and the original is also heard. It is a song identified with the Vietnam War, and seems to be introducing the US into the already complex plot.
Not that I agree or disagree with the way Walk on Water portrays this situation, but I do believe that in order to watch a film like this, watching a film from the other perspective such as Paradise Now (Hany Abu-Assad, 2005) is important.
That being said, I think it makes a decent effort to confront these issues, and is worth seeing.
The film's main focus seems to be equally oriented around the relationship between Germans and Israeli's post WWII, and the relationship between Israelis and Palestinians including between organizations that represent them.
As far as the WWII aspect goes, the film is quite neutral. Well, at least politically correct(ish). Nazis are bad, and today's Germans and Israelis are good. We identify with both our protagonists, the Israeli/German Eyal (Lior Ashkenazi) of Jewish decent (although there is a streak of evil deeds, we sympathize with him), as well as the German Axel (Knut Berger). The film shows us that there is a deep internal struggle within the lives of both of these people and their families and neighbors.
The approach to the Israeli/Palestinian conflict is a bit more troublesome. Although Eyal is seen a bit as an extreme case, and Rafik (Yousef 'Joe' Sweid) as an alright guy, this film is clearly from the Israeli perspective. There is no understanding of why the people from the other side of the fence believe the things they do, and the film openly admits that. Yet I still get a sense of underlying hatred.
The homosexuality seems to be rather out of place, as if this film was not attempting to tackle enough important issues and had to pick up another. It just does not seem to work. The end is rather out of the blue. There is hardly any attraction throughout the film between Pia and Eyal, but him and Axel get very close. In addition, the scene in which Eyal beats up the German's who are harassing Axel's friends seems to be purely for the purpose of a fight scene. Maybe it shows Eyal can show compassion toward people he does think he likes.
Lastly, the repetition of Buffalo Springfield's song, "For What It's Worth" is a bit interesting. There is a cover version that is played twice, and the original is also heard. It is a song identified with the Vietnam War, and seems to be introducing the US into the already complex plot.
Not that I agree or disagree with the way Walk on Water portrays this situation, but I do believe that in order to watch a film like this, watching a film from the other perspective such as Paradise Now (Hany Abu-Assad, 2005) is important.
That being said, I think it makes a decent effort to confront these issues, and is worth seeing.
16 January 2010
Roger & Me (Moore, 1989)
Michael Moore's first film, Roger & Me (1989) clearly sets a precedent for his later work. Moore uses his own voice as a narration, and even interacts with people on-screen which has become his style of filmmaking over the last 20 years. His artful misrepresentation of facts in order to tell a more compelling story is also as dominant in Roger as it is in his subsequent films.
Whether he 'tells the truth' or not, he is extremely successful in this film. He set out to show anyone that would listen that Roger Smith, then chairman and CEO of General Motors, had chosen to close down all of GM's factories in Flint, Michigan where it all started and was unwilling to talk to acknowledge the devastation this created there. Roger & Me does that job.
Whether you take Moore's representation of the facts and chronology of the situation at face-value, or you dig deep to find that he does in fact misrepresent some of those facts, you still walk away from the film with a feeling that large corporations are bad for small towns. It does not hurt the film in the least that it also happens to be rather entertaining and enjoyable.
Moore's blurring of the line between educational and entertainment is well done. He is inviting you to dig deeper and seek out is fact-bending anachronisms, and in that way is getting the viewer to learn more about the issue plaguing his home town. It is a little deceiving to make the less critical viewers believe that what you are giving them is the truth, but I do not see anywhere in the film where he says that this is the whole truth.
Whether he 'tells the truth' or not, he is extremely successful in this film. He set out to show anyone that would listen that Roger Smith, then chairman and CEO of General Motors, had chosen to close down all of GM's factories in Flint, Michigan where it all started and was unwilling to talk to acknowledge the devastation this created there. Roger & Me does that job.
Whether you take Moore's representation of the facts and chronology of the situation at face-value, or you dig deep to find that he does in fact misrepresent some of those facts, you still walk away from the film with a feeling that large corporations are bad for small towns. It does not hurt the film in the least that it also happens to be rather entertaining and enjoyable.
Moore's blurring of the line between educational and entertainment is well done. He is inviting you to dig deeper and seek out is fact-bending anachronisms, and in that way is getting the viewer to learn more about the issue plaguing his home town. It is a little deceiving to make the less critical viewers believe that what you are giving them is the truth, but I do not see anywhere in the film where he says that this is the whole truth.
13 January 2010
Caché (Haneke, 2005)
For my European Cinema course we are to give 300 word analyses on every film we watch. This is the first of them. From now on I will not denote which post is for this class, but it will probably be pretty clear. As a result, this blog contains...SPOILERS... how I hate that word. But I do advise you see this film before reading this post. I think it is a really great film that challenges its audience and has some interesting things to say, so go rent Caché and then come right back here to read what I think of it.
One of the most striking elements of Caché (Michael Haneke, 2005) is the editing. In this film the editing does not merely serve the story as it does in many other films. Coupled with the cinematography, the editing of Caché guides the audience through the film shaping their emotions and reactions to each scene.
From the opening shot, which stares, unmoving, at the front of a house for several
minutes, leaves the audience confused and feeling a little voyeuristic. This feeling never leaves the viewer, especially not as the closing credits roll over a similarly stationary shot of the school. We soon learn that these awkwardly long takes are, within the cinematic world, video tapes sent to the characters. In this way the audience is right in feeling that they are spying, rather than watching a movie.
The powerful impact of the 'video' shots is heightened with the editing. After over a minute of watching essentially nothing happens; with no camera movement any cut is jarring. This is not the only instance of shock instilled in the audience. When Georges (Daniel Auteuil) goes to see Majid (Maurice Bénichou), who quickly pulls out a knife and slits his throat in a jaw-dropping explosion of blood, the audience is left as stunned as Georges. And that take continues to roll, as Georges walks off screen, then back on, letting the audience calm down. In the next sequence Georges goes home and there is a long quiet conversation in the dark bedroom. After this scene, the film cuts rather unexpectedly to a very brightly lit, extremely loud swim meet.
Haneke does not use these methods to 'scare' the audience. They are used more to heighten the sense of uneasiness of the characters, and that is already created by the story. He uses editing to get the audience comfortable with something and then drastically changes their perception of it, in a very shocking way.
12 January 2010
Driving Miss Daisy (Beresford, 1989)
Every so often, when looking for a movie to watch, I consult the list of Academy Award Best Picture winners. I have discovered that it is not quite the list of great movies that one might expect. Still, it is interesting to go through and see what films The Academy of Motion Picture Arts And Sciences deemed the best picture of their respective years.
This time we picked Driving Miss Daisy (Bruce Beresford, 1989). I honestly do not have much to say about this film. Driving Miss Daisy tells a story; it has a beginning, middle and end. Characters learn things and change. It also promotes acceptance and 'good' morals. However, by the end of it, I just wanted to ask "why?". This film fails to say why it is interesting or important. It is boring throughout. There will be a few uneventful scenes, and then some number of months or years will pass without any acknowledgment, and the same thing will happen again. It is a simple story with very little depth. The characters do change, but there is no depth to the character, and no real reason for the change.
Hoke (Morgan Freeman) is meant to show that people can overcome their differences, and succeed in life and relationships. It seems to me though, a pretty racist representation. Freeman's performance is well executed, but the direction is pretty outlandish. Seeing Morgan Freeman play the black servant to the rich Jewish woman, with his best slave accent on was a little uncomfortable for me. But I guess it is all okay because of Hoke's unfaltering morals and good-natured demeanor that finally gains him acceptance from Miss Daisy (Jessica Tandy).... Sorry Beresford, but I'm not buying it. Nobody's perfect. (To put it in the words of Osgood Fielding).
Technically it is pretty solid. I noticed a few awkward cuts (which I doubt were intentional), but other than that it is pretty much 'invisibly' edited. It is not a bad movie, just plain boring. Maybe it deserves another chance, but I still have quite a few movies to see on the Academy's list so it'll have to wait a while.
This time we picked Driving Miss Daisy (Bruce Beresford, 1989). I honestly do not have much to say about this film. Driving Miss Daisy tells a story; it has a beginning, middle and end. Characters learn things and change. It also promotes acceptance and 'good' morals. However, by the end of it, I just wanted to ask "why?". This film fails to say why it is interesting or important. It is boring throughout. There will be a few uneventful scenes, and then some number of months or years will pass without any acknowledgment, and the same thing will happen again. It is a simple story with very little depth. The characters do change, but there is no depth to the character, and no real reason for the change.
Hoke (Morgan Freeman) is meant to show that people can overcome their differences, and succeed in life and relationships. It seems to me though, a pretty racist representation. Freeman's performance is well executed, but the direction is pretty outlandish. Seeing Morgan Freeman play the black servant to the rich Jewish woman, with his best slave accent on was a little uncomfortable for me. But I guess it is all okay because of Hoke's unfaltering morals and good-natured demeanor that finally gains him acceptance from Miss Daisy (Jessica Tandy).... Sorry Beresford, but I'm not buying it. Nobody's perfect. (To put it in the words of Osgood Fielding).
Technically it is pretty solid. I noticed a few awkward cuts (which I doubt were intentional), but other than that it is pretty much 'invisibly' edited. It is not a bad movie, just plain boring. Maybe it deserves another chance, but I still have quite a few movies to see on the Academy's list so it'll have to wait a while.
10 January 2010
Double Happiness (Shum, 1994)
Double Happiness (Mina Shum, 1994) was the first film screened in my Canadian Cinema course. It is the story of a Chinese-Canadian family, centered around the oldest daughter who aspires to be an actress. Interesting fact: Mina Shum is a UBC almuni.
After taking Can. Literature last semester, it is pretty clear to me that this is a common theme in Canada, especially in Vancouver. Quite a bit of Canadian literature deals with the notion of a hybrid or double identity, and especially with the children of theses families struggling with it. Shum does pretty well addressing this issue in Double Happiness. She also does it in a way that is enjoyable and accessible to all audiences. Although sometimes seeming over-the-top, the characters are believable and relateable.
As a Canadian film, one may expect a departure from conventional, Hollywood-style filmmaking. And Shum does provide this. From the opening shot, in which the main character Jade (Sandra Oh, now of Sideways and Grey's Anatomy fame) addresses the camera in an interview-style setting, to the next shot in which the camera circles the dinner table on a lazy susan, it is clear that this film is not your average film. These self-reflexive techniques work well with this picture. It is a film about self identity, so bringing to light the fact that it is a film helps reinforce the question of "who am I?".
Not just a Canadian film, this is Shum's first feature film. It is a beautifully done first film. She was not afraid to try things and break the norm. On great choice she makes is not being afraid of the dark. She uses shadow much to her advantage in this film. The colors are also strong, through costume and art direction as well as cinematography she paints a symbolic picture with the colors. Lastly camera movements (such as the lazy susan) are unconventional, yet work really well. It just goes to show that you do not need to copy what has been done before, and it pays to try new things to make a great film.
Double Happiness is by no means perfect, but it works. I am looking forward to diving deeper into the world of Canadian Cinema.
After taking Can. Literature last semester, it is pretty clear to me that this is a common theme in Canada, especially in Vancouver. Quite a bit of Canadian literature deals with the notion of a hybrid or double identity, and especially with the children of theses families struggling with it. Shum does pretty well addressing this issue in Double Happiness. She also does it in a way that is enjoyable and accessible to all audiences. Although sometimes seeming over-the-top, the characters are believable and relateable.
As a Canadian film, one may expect a departure from conventional, Hollywood-style filmmaking. And Shum does provide this. From the opening shot, in which the main character Jade (Sandra Oh, now of Sideways and Grey's Anatomy fame) addresses the camera in an interview-style setting, to the next shot in which the camera circles the dinner table on a lazy susan, it is clear that this film is not your average film. These self-reflexive techniques work well with this picture. It is a film about self identity, so bringing to light the fact that it is a film helps reinforce the question of "who am I?".
Not just a Canadian film, this is Shum's first feature film. It is a beautifully done first film. She was not afraid to try things and break the norm. On great choice she makes is not being afraid of the dark. She uses shadow much to her advantage in this film. The colors are also strong, through costume and art direction as well as cinematography she paints a symbolic picture with the colors. Lastly camera movements (such as the lazy susan) are unconventional, yet work really well. It just goes to show that you do not need to copy what has been done before, and it pays to try new things to make a great film.
Double Happiness is by no means perfect, but it works. I am looking forward to diving deeper into the world of Canadian Cinema.
The Thin Blue Line (Morris, 1988)
I'll be doing quite a few of these blogs on documentaries for the next few months, because I am taking a Documentary Cinema course this term. The class focuses on Errol Morris and Michael Moore. The first film we screened was The Thin Blue Line (Errol Morris, 1988).
I've seen The Thin Blue Line credited in a few non-academic sources as being the first to use scripted re-enactment sequences in a documentary style, or the first to do so in a crime drama doc. This is interesting to me because the whole time I was watching it, I kept thinking that it seemed like a very well put together crime drama TV show, with interviews. The way in which Morris uses the scripted scenes is very clever. He only shows you things people say that Morris himself believes to be lies. Throughout the film it is clear that Morris' intention is to show that it was David Harris that killed the police officer that night, and that Randall Adams is innocent; yet we never see a re-enactment of Harris shooting the cop, it is always Adams.
The re-enactment scenes themselves are beautifully shot. In order to make clear that these are re-tellings and not the way it actually happened, Morris makes them extremely stylistic. Long shadows, pronounced colors, extreme close-ups, slow motion all combine to make clear that it is a memory, and even take away from the credibility of the memory with a surreal feel.
The Phillip Glass score is absolutely remarkable. It plays an eerie counterpart to the images and interviews. It goes almost unnoticed, yet is essential to the success of the film.
In this age of court dramas, and crime scene shows The Thin Blue Line can appear to fall in line with the rest. But bearing in mind it came out in 1988 and actually helped get a man out of prison that was apparently innocent it is a very effective piece of filmmaking.
I've seen The Thin Blue Line credited in a few non-academic sources as being the first to use scripted re-enactment sequences in a documentary style, or the first to do so in a crime drama doc. This is interesting to me because the whole time I was watching it, I kept thinking that it seemed like a very well put together crime drama TV show, with interviews. The way in which Morris uses the scripted scenes is very clever. He only shows you things people say that Morris himself believes to be lies. Throughout the film it is clear that Morris' intention is to show that it was David Harris that killed the police officer that night, and that Randall Adams is innocent; yet we never see a re-enactment of Harris shooting the cop, it is always Adams.
The re-enactment scenes themselves are beautifully shot. In order to make clear that these are re-tellings and not the way it actually happened, Morris makes them extremely stylistic. Long shadows, pronounced colors, extreme close-ups, slow motion all combine to make clear that it is a memory, and even take away from the credibility of the memory with a surreal feel.
The Phillip Glass score is absolutely remarkable. It plays an eerie counterpart to the images and interviews. It goes almost unnoticed, yet is essential to the success of the film.
In this age of court dramas, and crime scene shows The Thin Blue Line can appear to fall in line with the rest. But bearing in mind it came out in 1988 and actually helped get a man out of prison that was apparently innocent it is a very effective piece of filmmaking.
09 January 2010
The F Word (Weintrob, 2005)
On a search for some entertainment after packing up to head home for winter break, we stumbled upon a film called The F Word (Jed Weintrob, 2005). It would be classified among other things as "fictumentary". IMDB actually lists it as Drama. It follows a radio show host on his last day of broadcast because he is being shut down by the FCC for unpaid obscenity charges. He decides to hit the streets of Manhattan on what is coincidentally the last day of the Republican National Convention in 2004. The entire film is made up of fictional interactions between the radio host, Joe Pace (Josh Hamilton), and people on the street, all set among protesters of the RNC.
I could have done without the dream sequence near the end. The film could have been finished up nicely 15 minutes sooner without it. And the sequence was obnoxiously colorful with lame psychedelic drug effects.
The aim of the film is pretty unclear. On the start it is clearly about free speech, the whole 'plot' centers around the FCC. But about halfway through you realize that the only aspect of the first amendment around is the fact that there are protesters. The film becomes anti-Republican Party and stays that way, until the very end with a cute retrospective recap of what Pace has learned on his journey.
If you tend to hold liberal views on issues, especially social issues, you will enjoy this film. If not, you probably won't, unless you are a conservative that hates George W. There are some interesting exchanges and it is often unclear whether it is scripted or not. It is a cool flick that is worth a watch, even 5 years after its release. It is certainly political, but isn't all too serious about it.
I could have done without the dream sequence near the end. The film could have been finished up nicely 15 minutes sooner without it. And the sequence was obnoxiously colorful with lame psychedelic drug effects.
The aim of the film is pretty unclear. On the start it is clearly about free speech, the whole 'plot' centers around the FCC. But about halfway through you realize that the only aspect of the first amendment around is the fact that there are protesters. The film becomes anti-Republican Party and stays that way, until the very end with a cute retrospective recap of what Pace has learned on his journey.
If you tend to hold liberal views on issues, especially social issues, you will enjoy this film. If not, you probably won't, unless you are a conservative that hates George W. There are some interesting exchanges and it is often unclear whether it is scripted or not. It is a cool flick that is worth a watch, even 5 years after its release. It is certainly political, but isn't all too serious about it.
07 January 2010
Star Trek (Abrams, 2009)
While sci-fi and action movies are not at all my cup o' tea, I did not particularly hate Star Trek (J.J. Abrams, 2009) as I thought I might. I had expected the film to make very little sense to me as someone who has never watched any Star Trek of any kind. I was proven wrong on this count. The film does very well to cover the whole story and characters, so as not to leave the 'non-trekkies' out, while still I'm sure being entertaining to long time Trek fans.
I believe Star Trek ultimately accomplishes what it set out to do: entertain. It is a fun ride for sure. I did not find myself checking the clock, or wondering how much longer the film would be. I am definitely glad I watched it on Blu-ray on a 50" HDTV with good sound.
I must say though, there were a few ho-hum moments for me. Some of the explosions and hand to hand combat just went on far too long, and or did not relate to the story. The scene early on when James T. Kirk (Chris Pine) is a child (Jimmy Bennett) is just ridiculous. I understand the purpose, it makes Kirk look like a badass who is really good at driving things. This was pretty unnecessary in my opinion.
Kirk was a huge problem for me throughout the film. I did not feel any emotion about him, ever, except that he is a jerk. I am pretty sure that Abrams meant the audience to feel some "Go Kirk!" emotions, but I most definitely did not. The two Spocks (Zachary Quinto and Leonard Nemoy) on the other hand did pull some heart strings, and I really was rooting for the Vulcans to get out safely.
The one thing that really bothered me with Star Trek is probably something that goes unnoticed by many viewers. It is the CG lens flair/artifacts. There is a weird streaking across the screen, usually blue tones, through a great portion of the film. It seems as if it is an aim at creating a lens flair effect, but the streaking acts nothing close to the way light reacts on a lenses surface. It is obnoxious and is distracting. It does not really obscure the frame so much as just take the viewer out of the story.
With its problems, I still enjoyed Star Trek more than I thought I would.
I believe Star Trek ultimately accomplishes what it set out to do: entertain. It is a fun ride for sure. I did not find myself checking the clock, or wondering how much longer the film would be. I am definitely glad I watched it on Blu-ray on a 50" HDTV with good sound.
I must say though, there were a few ho-hum moments for me. Some of the explosions and hand to hand combat just went on far too long, and or did not relate to the story. The scene early on when James T. Kirk (Chris Pine) is a child (Jimmy Bennett) is just ridiculous. I understand the purpose, it makes Kirk look like a badass who is really good at driving things. This was pretty unnecessary in my opinion.
Kirk was a huge problem for me throughout the film. I did not feel any emotion about him, ever, except that he is a jerk. I am pretty sure that Abrams meant the audience to feel some "Go Kirk!" emotions, but I most definitely did not. The two Spocks (Zachary Quinto and Leonard Nemoy) on the other hand did pull some heart strings, and I really was rooting for the Vulcans to get out safely.
The one thing that really bothered me with Star Trek is probably something that goes unnoticed by many viewers. It is the CG lens flair/artifacts. There is a weird streaking across the screen, usually blue tones, through a great portion of the film. It seems as if it is an aim at creating a lens flair effect, but the streaking acts nothing close to the way light reacts on a lenses surface. It is obnoxious and is distracting. It does not really obscure the frame so much as just take the viewer out of the story.
With its problems, I still enjoyed Star Trek more than I thought I would.
Rashômon (Kurosawa, 1951)
I have seen Rashômon (Akira Kurosawa, 1951) once before, in Tony Kashani's Film Form class at SRJC. As I recall, I dozed a bit during the film and did not take much away from it. This is one of the reasons I decided to pick it up and watch it this time. Another reason I watched it was because I had been working through an idea of making a film with a framed narrative, and wanted to see how Kurosawa did it. Well, my film did not work out this time around, but I am sure glad I watched Rashômon. There has been so much said about this film, that without more research or thought into it I do not want to say much. I just want to share the thoughts that initially come to mind about this film.
In this relatively short film (88 minutes) Kurosawa delivers a critical look at memory, emotion, and human nature as well as a compelling story. Although it seems to highlight the inaccuracies inherent in perception, memory and eventually storytelling, I think this film also brings to light the importance of storytelling. Oral tradition is a huge part of all cultures. Through the form of the movie, Kurosawa is able to evoke that style of communication. I must also add that the last retelling of the story is hilarious, if you've seen it you know what I'm talking about, if not just go watch it.
In this relatively short film (88 minutes) Kurosawa delivers a critical look at memory, emotion, and human nature as well as a compelling story. Although it seems to highlight the inaccuracies inherent in perception, memory and eventually storytelling, I think this film also brings to light the importance of storytelling. Oral tradition is a huge part of all cultures. Through the form of the movie, Kurosawa is able to evoke that style of communication. I must also add that the last retelling of the story is hilarious, if you've seen it you know what I'm talking about, if not just go watch it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
