Monday, August 11, 2008
Boy A (2007)
Director: John Crowley
Boy A is highly recommended, small British film. It is mostly an impressive character study that displays with great empathy the reemergence of a child locked away since he was 14? for allegedly assisting in the murder of a classmate. Now at 21? Jack must try to start a new life while concealing his past from his colleagues, friends and his girlfriend. The most moving part of the film is watching Jack tentatively put a life together while still being tormented emotionally by his past. Now, while Boy A is mostly an intimate character study, it is also a thriller. Quietly, in the background, there is an angry mob stalking Jack believing he was not punished sufficiently and are out for vigilante justice. There is a tension sustained throughout the film that Jack’s past is about to jump out of the shadows and ruin the life he has pieced back together. If you go see Boy A you will be as enthralled as I was to see if it does.
Boy A is highly recommended, small British film. It is mostly an impressive character study that displays with great empathy the reemergence of a child locked away since he was 14? for allegedly assisting in the murder of a classmate. Now at 21? Jack must try to start a new life while concealing his past from his colleagues, friends and his girlfriend. The most moving part of the film is watching Jack tentatively put a life together while still being tormented emotionally by his past. Now, while Boy A is mostly an intimate character study, it is also a thriller. Quietly, in the background, there is an angry mob stalking Jack believing he was not punished sufficiently and are out for vigilante justice. There is a tension sustained throughout the film that Jack’s past is about to jump out of the shadows and ruin the life he has pieced back together. If you go see Boy A you will be as enthralled as I was to see if it does.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Asphalt (1929)
Director: Joe May
The reason lovers of film and film history should see Asphalt (1929) is to discover one of the first film noirs. If you were to throw this film up at SAM during the Film Noir Series this autumn it would be accepted as noir with little argument, though many may be unhappy with its silence. So once again Silent Movie Mondays has not only provided another fantastic film with perfect musical accompaniment via Dennis James, it has shown me yet again that most film innovations occurred in the silent era. The talkies merely added, well, talk.
What about Asphalt is prescient of film noir? First the look, Asphalt is set in a teaming city mostly shot at night. The city is large beyond a single human’s comprehension. It is active, loud and uncontrollable. And no one is to be trusted, especially not the gorgeous woman in furs who flirts and then robs you blind. Bringing us to the femme fatal, looking beautiful and played beautifully by Colleen Moore imitator Betty Amann. She tempts the innocent young man (still living with his parents) to accept sex instead of bringing her to jail. He accepts, after a quite well performed inner battle with his sense of duty, and becomes sexually obsessed with and sexually possessed by Amann. This fall into the urban underworld from a position in honest society is yet another noir theme. As the film begins we see the young man directing traffic (in the daylight), naively believing he is in control of the uncontrollable city. By the end he has murdered for Amann, the ultimate sign of love for the femme in the twisted moral code of the noirs. Finally, you will see echoes of much of the cinematography in later noirs. There are the shadows and darkness (perhaps most notably in the scene where the criminals are tunneling into the bank, and for a good 30 seconds the frame is almost entirely black), and the use of camera angles and shots up crooked stairways to convey inner turmoil.
This is a film that calls for multiples viewings because of all that is packed into it, or, perhaps more importantly, once you realize all that has been unpacked from it in film history.
The reason lovers of film and film history should see Asphalt (1929) is to discover one of the first film noirs. If you were to throw this film up at SAM during the Film Noir Series this autumn it would be accepted as noir with little argument, though many may be unhappy with its silence. So once again Silent Movie Mondays has not only provided another fantastic film with perfect musical accompaniment via Dennis James, it has shown me yet again that most film innovations occurred in the silent era. The talkies merely added, well, talk.
What about Asphalt is prescient of film noir? First the look, Asphalt is set in a teaming city mostly shot at night. The city is large beyond a single human’s comprehension. It is active, loud and uncontrollable. And no one is to be trusted, especially not the gorgeous woman in furs who flirts and then robs you blind. Bringing us to the femme fatal, looking beautiful and played beautifully by Colleen Moore imitator Betty Amann. She tempts the innocent young man (still living with his parents) to accept sex instead of bringing her to jail. He accepts, after a quite well performed inner battle with his sense of duty, and becomes sexually obsessed with and sexually possessed by Amann. This fall into the urban underworld from a position in honest society is yet another noir theme. As the film begins we see the young man directing traffic (in the daylight), naively believing he is in control of the uncontrollable city. By the end he has murdered for Amann, the ultimate sign of love for the femme in the twisted moral code of the noirs. Finally, you will see echoes of much of the cinematography in later noirs. There are the shadows and darkness (perhaps most notably in the scene where the criminals are tunneling into the bank, and for a good 30 seconds the frame is almost entirely black), and the use of camera angles and shots up crooked stairways to convey inner turmoil.
This is a film that calls for multiples viewings because of all that is packed into it, or, perhaps more importantly, once you realize all that has been unpacked from it in film history.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Babel (2006)
Director: Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu
Oh no, another of this year’s critically acclaimed films turns out to be a disappointment. OK, director Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu lost me when Gael Garcia Bernal’s characters runs from the boarder patrol officers and drops his aunt and the children out in the desert in the middle of the night. There was nothing in Santiago’s character development to justify these drastic, insane actions. Plus, as the children now wonder near death in a desert their mother, who has been accidentally shot from a mountain top, is near dieing in Morocco. Talk about a bad day for a family! It is enough to make you roll your eyes and say “come on!” and “give me a break!” Which I did, and no drama can fully recover from the eye roll.
Despite this terrible, disappointing turn in the storytelling, in all other film making aspects Babel may be the best made movie I’ve seen this year. The stories wove beautifully together to create a complex mediation comparing the ever closer interconnectedness of our globe with people's growing alienation and inability to form meaningful relationships. Also, the editing masterfully allowed for an exhale by cutting from one story to the next just when you could not bare the dramatic tension any longer; and Inarritu skillfully captured the distinct mise-en-scene of each distinct setting. You walk away thinking, that was fatastic film-making.
Ahh, too bad for that eye roll. I could have loved this film.
Oh no, another of this year’s critically acclaimed films turns out to be a disappointment. OK, director Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu lost me when Gael Garcia Bernal’s characters runs from the boarder patrol officers and drops his aunt and the children out in the desert in the middle of the night. There was nothing in Santiago’s character development to justify these drastic, insane actions. Plus, as the children now wonder near death in a desert their mother, who has been accidentally shot from a mountain top, is near dieing in Morocco. Talk about a bad day for a family! It is enough to make you roll your eyes and say “come on!” and “give me a break!” Which I did, and no drama can fully recover from the eye roll.
Despite this terrible, disappointing turn in the storytelling, in all other film making aspects Babel may be the best made movie I’ve seen this year. The stories wove beautifully together to create a complex mediation comparing the ever closer interconnectedness of our globe with people's growing alienation and inability to form meaningful relationships. Also, the editing masterfully allowed for an exhale by cutting from one story to the next just when you could not bare the dramatic tension any longer; and Inarritu skillfully captured the distinct mise-en-scene of each distinct setting. You walk away thinking, that was fatastic film-making.
Ahh, too bad for that eye roll. I could have loved this film.
Pan's Labyrinth (2006)
Director: Guillermo del Toro
Pan’s Labyrinth is half fairy tale and half military movie. I loved the fairy tale, told in the pre-Disney understanding that fairy tales are about a child’s psyche confronting death, parental abandonment and impending sexuality. Guillermo del Toro’s visual effects creating the fairy tale world are fascinating, spectacular and a compelling reason in themselves to see this film. This imagined world was so wonderful I kept hoping to get back to it each time our little girl heroine had to step back into the film’s reality. I did not care for the film’s reality, a military story set in fascist Spain. Here del Toro uses his abundant visual talents to makes us squirm anticipating torture and looking at gore (from which I chose to look away).If del Toro had decide to make the fairy tale alone I may have loved this film. But sadly, it is yet another disappointment in this year of disappointing films. As you may imagine, loving only half a film is ultimately unsatisfying.
Pan’s Labyrinth is half fairy tale and half military movie. I loved the fairy tale, told in the pre-Disney understanding that fairy tales are about a child’s psyche confronting death, parental abandonment and impending sexuality. Guillermo del Toro’s visual effects creating the fairy tale world are fascinating, spectacular and a compelling reason in themselves to see this film. This imagined world was so wonderful I kept hoping to get back to it each time our little girl heroine had to step back into the film’s reality. I did not care for the film’s reality, a military story set in fascist Spain. Here del Toro uses his abundant visual talents to makes us squirm anticipating torture and looking at gore (from which I chose to look away).If del Toro had decide to make the fairy tale alone I may have loved this film. But sadly, it is yet another disappointment in this year of disappointing films. As you may imagine, loving only half a film is ultimately unsatisfying.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Dreamgirls (2006)
Director: Bill Condon
To quote The Stranger, this is not a good film. That said, if you approach Dreamgirls as a dollop of superficial, spectacular fluff there is an abundance to enjoy. In enjoyed watching Eddie Murphy, for instance, more than I have in 25 years. Murphy gives a terrifically exciting performance in his half Little Richard, half James Brown persona. He may even be a little too good, making Beyonce’s and Jamie Fox’s uninspiring acting feel even more flat. But they, along with everyone else, is surrounded by so much noise and color, so much fashion and hair flux that you hardly care. Actual acting is negligible to the overall effect of the spectacular. So what it’s hollow; Dreamgirls is the most fun I’ve had in the theater since Little Miss Sunshine. Don’t expect character development, don’t expect real emotion, don’t imagine that there is anything beneath the shiny surface. The best musicals are sweet frosting slathered over an empty hat box, and that’s what you get from Dreamgirls.
To quote The Stranger, this is not a good film. That said, if you approach Dreamgirls as a dollop of superficial, spectacular fluff there is an abundance to enjoy. In enjoyed watching Eddie Murphy, for instance, more than I have in 25 years. Murphy gives a terrifically exciting performance in his half Little Richard, half James Brown persona. He may even be a little too good, making Beyonce’s and Jamie Fox’s uninspiring acting feel even more flat. But they, along with everyone else, is surrounded by so much noise and color, so much fashion and hair flux that you hardly care. Actual acting is negligible to the overall effect of the spectacular. So what it’s hollow; Dreamgirls is the most fun I’ve had in the theater since Little Miss Sunshine. Don’t expect character development, don’t expect real emotion, don’t imagine that there is anything beneath the shiny surface. The best musicals are sweet frosting slathered over an empty hat box, and that’s what you get from Dreamgirls.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
Check out new blog
My film blog (Big Screen Seattle) was not working. I now realize a blog is not a good format for film reviews. A blog is a quick, daily musing, where as my film blog was occasional, lengthy and demanded the organization of a web site to be useful. In Daily Media Consumption I will spend 20 minutes each night writing a paragraph on the bit of media (books, TV shows, films, radio, music, newspapers, or podcasts) that struck my mind as most worthy of comment that day.
Check it out: http://mymediaconsumption.blogspot.com/
Check it out: http://mymediaconsumption.blogspot.com/
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
The Science of Sleep (2006)
Director: Michel Gondry
The Science of Sleep reminds me of some of those 50s and 60s French New Wave films I have seen, such as Jules and Jim. The interest lies in their difference from just about everything you have seen before. The Science of Sleep certainly has that amazing effect of leaving you mesmerized in its singular dreamlike qualities and situations. But like the New Wave films, this interest does not ultimately lead to an emotionally engaging film, a satisfying film or even an enjoyable film. It is an intellectual oddity allowing you a moment to say ‘wow, I’ve never seen that before’. But once I’ve said that there is not much room to extend your commentary beyond marveling at the film’s many spectacular individual scenes, which do not add up to a satisfying whole.
The film is set in motion on the conceit that Stéphane is a child trying unsuccessfully to live in an adult world. Stephane has returned home for a visit and it is clear, perhaps because of a harsh childhood, he has not yet become an adult. The film is largely an exploration of the imaginative play of this adult/child and how, like a child, he retreats into his imagination (or into sleep) when the adult world becomes too complicated or frustrating for him. And when he must emerge from sleep or imagination to deal with adult reality Stephane reacts with emotional tantrums and spiteful interactions. Ultimately he can ‘play’ with the woman artist next door he has romantic feelings for but he cannot have a relationship with her.
What is truly marvelous in this film is the sense that the film-makers themselves are playing. They are like Stephane, creating a marvelous and sometimes breathtaking visual experience; but also like Stephane they cannot make the necessary emotional connection with the adults in the audience.
The Science of Sleep reminds me of some of those 50s and 60s French New Wave films I have seen, such as Jules and Jim. The interest lies in their difference from just about everything you have seen before. The Science of Sleep certainly has that amazing effect of leaving you mesmerized in its singular dreamlike qualities and situations. But like the New Wave films, this interest does not ultimately lead to an emotionally engaging film, a satisfying film or even an enjoyable film. It is an intellectual oddity allowing you a moment to say ‘wow, I’ve never seen that before’. But once I’ve said that there is not much room to extend your commentary beyond marveling at the film’s many spectacular individual scenes, which do not add up to a satisfying whole.
The film is set in motion on the conceit that Stéphane is a child trying unsuccessfully to live in an adult world. Stephane has returned home for a visit and it is clear, perhaps because of a harsh childhood, he has not yet become an adult. The film is largely an exploration of the imaginative play of this adult/child and how, like a child, he retreats into his imagination (or into sleep) when the adult world becomes too complicated or frustrating for him. And when he must emerge from sleep or imagination to deal with adult reality Stephane reacts with emotional tantrums and spiteful interactions. Ultimately he can ‘play’ with the woman artist next door he has romantic feelings for but he cannot have a relationship with her.
What is truly marvelous in this film is the sense that the film-makers themselves are playing. They are like Stephane, creating a marvelous and sometimes breathtaking visual experience; but also like Stephane they cannot make the necessary emotional connection with the adults in the audience.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
The Puffy Chair (2005)
Director: Jay Duplass
There are 2 possible reasons to reward The Puffy Chair with your dollars and your viewing time. 1. It is obviously extremely low budget. I mean the tapes I sent of myself to the National Board look equal in quality to this thing. So if you appreciate someone who must have worked like hell to get his cheapy-film up on the big screen, watch it. 2. I recommend The Puffy Chair for its rarity of theme: it is a break-up film. And even as most of the plot is ridiculous, the film does capture with verisimilitude the emotional ups and downs, the fears and anger of a staggeringly slow break-up.
First, in the opening scene the hero and heroine’s dysfunctional relationship is well established. Next, you get the typical road film filled with hyjinx, odd characters, chance encounters and absurd problems which must be overcome. Finally in the last scene the hero and heroine are talking in the park. Now most films, no, 99% of films, would have our hero and heroine reflecting on all they have learned about each other and themselves on the way down to Atlanta from NYC. There would be nauseating speeches in which each would now realize they needed the other to tackle life’s problems, just as they tackled problems on the road together. Finally the hero would propose to our heroine in the park, in the sunshine near his parents’ home. And I would vomit. But instead, they decide to break-up, and it feels the way breaking-up feels. They look at each other and with a whimper say, I think we should break-up when we get back to New York. And it is agreed. Quite, true, fade to credits.
So I say The Puffy Chair is worth it because so few films, especially films so closely following a screw-ball comedy pattern, have the guts to get to the final scene and say: you know what, never mind.
Quick Notes:
1. There is much that is not interesting about this film, and much that is down right annoying.
2. I’ve read reviews that have said the actual puffy chair is a symbol of the protagonist’s childhood showing the reality of the past is far different from your fond memories. No! The puffy chair is a physical representation of the dysfunction and death of the hero and heroine’s relationship. Stupid reviewers.
There are 2 possible reasons to reward The Puffy Chair with your dollars and your viewing time. 1. It is obviously extremely low budget. I mean the tapes I sent of myself to the National Board look equal in quality to this thing. So if you appreciate someone who must have worked like hell to get his cheapy-film up on the big screen, watch it. 2. I recommend The Puffy Chair for its rarity of theme: it is a break-up film. And even as most of the plot is ridiculous, the film does capture with verisimilitude the emotional ups and downs, the fears and anger of a staggeringly slow break-up.
First, in the opening scene the hero and heroine’s dysfunctional relationship is well established. Next, you get the typical road film filled with hyjinx, odd characters, chance encounters and absurd problems which must be overcome. Finally in the last scene the hero and heroine are talking in the park. Now most films, no, 99% of films, would have our hero and heroine reflecting on all they have learned about each other and themselves on the way down to Atlanta from NYC. There would be nauseating speeches in which each would now realize they needed the other to tackle life’s problems, just as they tackled problems on the road together. Finally the hero would propose to our heroine in the park, in the sunshine near his parents’ home. And I would vomit. But instead, they decide to break-up, and it feels the way breaking-up feels. They look at each other and with a whimper say, I think we should break-up when we get back to New York. And it is agreed. Quite, true, fade to credits.
So I say The Puffy Chair is worth it because so few films, especially films so closely following a screw-ball comedy pattern, have the guts to get to the final scene and say: you know what, never mind.
Quick Notes:
1. There is much that is not interesting about this film, and much that is down right annoying.
2. I’ve read reviews that have said the actual puffy chair is a symbol of the protagonist’s childhood showing the reality of the past is far different from your fond memories. No! The puffy chair is a physical representation of the dysfunction and death of the hero and heroine’s relationship. Stupid reviewers.
