Thursday, December 23, 2010
2011: 365 Movies in 365 Days
Hey everyone! In 2010, more than ever, I've fell in love with cinema and film and storytelling and performance. In 2011, here on this blog, my goal is to watch 365 movies in 365 days. I won't be writing full-fledged reviews (as I've done in the past) on every movie -- time just won't permit that. I'm not sure entirely what direction I'll take it, but right now, I'm considering either weekly or monthly posts here recapping the films I've seen during that span of time. Check back soon as the new year is right around the corner and I've got a lot of movies to watch! Please, write a sentence or two on any films you'd recommend, and maybe (if I haven't seen them yet) I'll try to add them to my queue. Right now, due to finances, I've cancelled Netflix and am relying on the library and the generosity of friends but I should be able to get my hands on a ton of stuff regardless. See you soon!
Monday, November 1, 2010
The Secret in Their Eyes (2009)
I wrote this for my recently defunct movie club as I was going to select this film as my pick for our third round. I wanted to share it somewhere, though, as I really, really liked it.
So, there's times when writing about things, i.e. (in this case) film criticism, feels, well, silly. I'm not going to come right out and "rank" this film alongside luminaries like The Godfather or Citizen Kane. Nor do I see any real reason for any film to be so stringently compared to films from the past. From my experiences it is one of the finest films I've had the pleasure of seeing. I do think its terrific, both in terms of its story and execution, and that brings me back to my opening point. I'd have a hard time writing about this movie from a cold, technical standpoint; for me, it was an emotional experience, and to spend a lot of time writing exposition about it doesn't seem as good an idea as just imploring others to actually see it themselves. Given the nature of this club I don't need to do that, you've all already saw it (hopefully!), so I'll just try to hit some of the main points and why I picked it and liked it so much.
For starters, I have a cache of films I'd planned on using from the start for this project. Films that I both think are genuinely good but that also, for whatever reason, belong in a short list of films that resonated with me and I hold dearly. My first two selections came from that list, and I'd anticipated my next several would, too. Then I saw this. Winning an Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film in 2010 (would anybody else like to tackle a project where we watch all the Best Foreign Language Film winners as a separate, non-New Eyes project?) I added it to my queue of critically acclaimed films I felt I needed to see. Upon finishing it I immediately knew it's be my next pick, I felt obligated to share it with others, as I felt it was the personification of why film is so damn good, the tension, the drama, the acting, the storytelling, the appeals to the human condition, etc.
I started the movie on a night I was home alone with my son Owen. On those nights he's usually in bed by 10PM and I always go to bed at 1AM to assure I'll get at least some sleep. I only got to watch the first ten minutes or so but I couldn't get them out of my head when I laid down in my bed. I'm a sucker for falling for characters in films, and no, not in some trivial, lustful, idealized way. But I'll genuinely get attached to characters, truly empathizing with them, which makes the moviegoing experience that much more wonderful. This notion isn't exclusively given toward females, as it extends to males, too (take, for example, Eduardo Verástegui's wonderful turn as Jose in Alejandro Gomez Monteverde's Bella -- a film some could argue as preachy human melodrama I found deeply moving mostly due to his performance). I bring this up because I couldn't get the character of Liliana Coloto (played by the gorgeous Carla Quevedo in her first role) out my head while I laid there. We see her, bathed in sunlight, sitting at the kitchen table smiling, making tea for her sick husband, practically radiant in her natural beauty. Then we see her ravaged, nude and bloody, the victim of the most awful and personal of crimes, rape. For the short duration of time she gets on-screen she entered my brain and wouldn't leave. I'm not sure why I felt this was so important to share, but certainly, lying there in bed I lay restless, wanting to see the rest of the film, wanting to learn more about her case.
I don't want to tread into the plot, it has a lot of suspense and surprises, but I'd be doing a disservice plowing through it in a synopsis. I think the way I'd most enjoy talking about the film is examining a few of its key relationships, the chemistry two characters had together, etc.
Benjamín Esposito is the main character and many of the film's relationships involve him. There's his friendship with co-worker Pablo Sandoval which is great because of their on-screen chemistry. Sandoval is a fully fleshed out character, fiercely loyal, but also deeply imperfect, spending much of his time and money on his "passion", i.e. getting drunk. There's Esposito's relationship with the bereaved Ricardo Morales who lost the love of his life, the aforementioned Liliana. I found this particular relationship very interesting. Benjamín is not just taking the case, but develops a bond with Ricardo, one that's hard to articulate but is undeniable. He worries what will become of Morales, suffering internally such great grief and despair, sitting daily at train stations awaiting the prime suspect in his wife's rape/homicide case.
The main relationship however is between Benjamín Esposito and Irene Menéndez Hastings. It's got many, many layers. It starts innocently enough, at the workplace, Esposito aplomb, unable to ask her out on a date. Over the years it develops into something much richer and stronger. Esposito not only respects her, but has been longing for her so long, that so much is said while nothing's being said. The scene at the train station, well, that was his chance to divulge his inner-feelings, ones they both were implicitly aware of, but none were offered. Years later, they look back, why hadn't he spoken up? In the end, after seeing how Morales and murderer Isidoro Gómez ended up, he understands finally that you can't keep living in the past, all you'll end up with is memories, so he decides to finally take that stand and open his heart to Irene. On one of the special features on the DVD the director Juan José Campanella compares the film's dual stories as similar to a Beethoven sonata in structure, we've got theme #1, then theme #2, then we repeat (the themes or stories being detective and romance). It works out splendidly as both are deeply interwoven both on the surface and symbolically.
The camerawork is just fantastic. The scenes at the soccer field, the crane shot from the skyline all the way down into the stadium, plus the riveting chase sequence ending up on the field during a game itself, are just spellbinding and beautiful examples of splendid cinematography. Félix Monti has done a lot of work but this has got to be his finest stuff so far behind the lens. I think the title is appropriate as Esposito says in the film, the eyes speak, as do ours, they can reveal what we aren't saying. I'm a huge fan of watching and studying the eyes of performers, have been for awhile, and this film lends itself to that sort of micro attention to details as the performances are so damned good that they pull you in. I especially liked watching Irene and Benjamín's eyes during their scenes together, there was a lot of that going on, unspoken feelings, expectations, and so on, but you could read it on the way they looked at and listened to each other.
All in all, it floored me, reminded me of the beauty and the power of filmmaking. I'm not a huge crime guy, smaller, more personal stories are my bag, but this worked for me on every level imaginable. For what it's worth I'm still haunted by images of Liliana Coloto.
So, there's times when writing about things, i.e. (in this case) film criticism, feels, well, silly. I'm not going to come right out and "rank" this film alongside luminaries like The Godfather or Citizen Kane. Nor do I see any real reason for any film to be so stringently compared to films from the past. From my experiences it is one of the finest films I've had the pleasure of seeing. I do think its terrific, both in terms of its story and execution, and that brings me back to my opening point. I'd have a hard time writing about this movie from a cold, technical standpoint; for me, it was an emotional experience, and to spend a lot of time writing exposition about it doesn't seem as good an idea as just imploring others to actually see it themselves. Given the nature of this club I don't need to do that, you've all already saw it (hopefully!), so I'll just try to hit some of the main points and why I picked it and liked it so much.
For starters, I have a cache of films I'd planned on using from the start for this project. Films that I both think are genuinely good but that also, for whatever reason, belong in a short list of films that resonated with me and I hold dearly. My first two selections came from that list, and I'd anticipated my next several would, too. Then I saw this. Winning an Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film in 2010 (would anybody else like to tackle a project where we watch all the Best Foreign Language Film winners as a separate, non-New Eyes project?) I added it to my queue of critically acclaimed films I felt I needed to see. Upon finishing it I immediately knew it's be my next pick, I felt obligated to share it with others, as I felt it was the personification of why film is so damn good, the tension, the drama, the acting, the storytelling, the appeals to the human condition, etc.
I started the movie on a night I was home alone with my son Owen. On those nights he's usually in bed by 10PM and I always go to bed at 1AM to assure I'll get at least some sleep. I only got to watch the first ten minutes or so but I couldn't get them out of my head when I laid down in my bed. I'm a sucker for falling for characters in films, and no, not in some trivial, lustful, idealized way. But I'll genuinely get attached to characters, truly empathizing with them, which makes the moviegoing experience that much more wonderful. This notion isn't exclusively given toward females, as it extends to males, too (take, for example, Eduardo Verástegui's wonderful turn as Jose in Alejandro Gomez Monteverde's Bella -- a film some could argue as preachy human melodrama I found deeply moving mostly due to his performance). I bring this up because I couldn't get the character of Liliana Coloto (played by the gorgeous Carla Quevedo in her first role) out my head while I laid there. We see her, bathed in sunlight, sitting at the kitchen table smiling, making tea for her sick husband, practically radiant in her natural beauty. Then we see her ravaged, nude and bloody, the victim of the most awful and personal of crimes, rape. For the short duration of time she gets on-screen she entered my brain and wouldn't leave. I'm not sure why I felt this was so important to share, but certainly, lying there in bed I lay restless, wanting to see the rest of the film, wanting to learn more about her case.
I don't want to tread into the plot, it has a lot of suspense and surprises, but I'd be doing a disservice plowing through it in a synopsis. I think the way I'd most enjoy talking about the film is examining a few of its key relationships, the chemistry two characters had together, etc.
Benjamín Esposito is the main character and many of the film's relationships involve him. There's his friendship with co-worker Pablo Sandoval which is great because of their on-screen chemistry. Sandoval is a fully fleshed out character, fiercely loyal, but also deeply imperfect, spending much of his time and money on his "passion", i.e. getting drunk. There's Esposito's relationship with the bereaved Ricardo Morales who lost the love of his life, the aforementioned Liliana. I found this particular relationship very interesting. Benjamín is not just taking the case, but develops a bond with Ricardo, one that's hard to articulate but is undeniable. He worries what will become of Morales, suffering internally such great grief and despair, sitting daily at train stations awaiting the prime suspect in his wife's rape/homicide case.
The main relationship however is between Benjamín Esposito and Irene Menéndez Hastings. It's got many, many layers. It starts innocently enough, at the workplace, Esposito aplomb, unable to ask her out on a date. Over the years it develops into something much richer and stronger. Esposito not only respects her, but has been longing for her so long, that so much is said while nothing's being said. The scene at the train station, well, that was his chance to divulge his inner-feelings, ones they both were implicitly aware of, but none were offered. Years later, they look back, why hadn't he spoken up? In the end, after seeing how Morales and murderer Isidoro Gómez ended up, he understands finally that you can't keep living in the past, all you'll end up with is memories, so he decides to finally take that stand and open his heart to Irene. On one of the special features on the DVD the director Juan José Campanella compares the film's dual stories as similar to a Beethoven sonata in structure, we've got theme #1, then theme #2, then we repeat (the themes or stories being detective and romance). It works out splendidly as both are deeply interwoven both on the surface and symbolically.
The camerawork is just fantastic. The scenes at the soccer field, the crane shot from the skyline all the way down into the stadium, plus the riveting chase sequence ending up on the field during a game itself, are just spellbinding and beautiful examples of splendid cinematography. Félix Monti has done a lot of work but this has got to be his finest stuff so far behind the lens. I think the title is appropriate as Esposito says in the film, the eyes speak, as do ours, they can reveal what we aren't saying. I'm a huge fan of watching and studying the eyes of performers, have been for awhile, and this film lends itself to that sort of micro attention to details as the performances are so damned good that they pull you in. I especially liked watching Irene and Benjamín's eyes during their scenes together, there was a lot of that going on, unspoken feelings, expectations, and so on, but you could read it on the way they looked at and listened to each other.
All in all, it floored me, reminded me of the beauty and the power of filmmaking. I'm not a huge crime guy, smaller, more personal stories are my bag, but this worked for me on every level imaginable. For what it's worth I'm still haunted by images of Liliana Coloto.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Old Joy (2006)
I first discovered this film after seeing director Kelly Reichardt's quiet, disarming masterpiece Wendy and Lucy (2008). It's a sparse film about a girl (and her dog, and yes, it's the same Lucy) driving to Alaska, running out of gas, then trying to figure out what to do next. It was the sort of alarmingly non-Hollywood realism that I've grown to really adore so when I dug into her filmography and found out about Old Joy I knew I needed to track it down.
I've seen this film multiple times now. Right off the bat, I'll just come out and say it -- I love it. It's a film that I see so much of myself in (in both Kurt and Mark), as well as my friends, etc. shaped by my own life experiences this far along in my journey. it really resonated with me and I find it deeply affecting. While I find it life-affirming and hauntingly beautiful I'm not beyond reason and can see how it wouldn't be everyone's cup of tea. While it worked on a deeply personal level with me, others may not connect with the material at all, but in that case, I hope something in the film does register with them, even if its on a base entertainment level. It's a film nobody has or is really talking about, although, the critics that did see it heaped tons of praise on it which I'll go into later on in my closing thoughts.
Let's get started -- to help myself stay structured/organized so I don't ramble into a messy love affair here while attempting an exploration of the film's themes I'll tackle the two days that we're privy to in film's world separately:
Day One
I love how the first sound we hear right away is a meditation gong. I know this from attending several meditation sittings at a nearby retreat I visit on occasion. The sound is accompanied by some tranquil images, i.e. the bird on the rooftop, etc. but the reason I think its significant is that gong is rang at the start of a period of meditation, almost as if in the film it's suggesting we're supposed to get to that place of relaxation and receptiveness. I also dig the quick shot of the ants, busily scurrying about, that juxtaposed with Mark meditating is a nice contrast, similarly to Mark and Kurt's own contrast (not that I believe the two are intrinsically linked).
The discussion between Mark and his wife Tanya rings all too eerily to real life. Now, it's not the most flattering portrayal of domesticity, and by referring to it and my own life I'm not trying to say its altogether bad, but I've been in that spot before, and I've seen other friends there also. That little argument, if we can call it that, gives us plenty of insight into why Mark may want to get away for a couple days.
Soon after we meet Kurt, one of the first noteworthy things he says is, when asked about a recent trip, how transformative it was, how he's in a whole new place now, etc. I'll be posing questions that I asked myself throughout this essay, the first relates to what Kurt said there, or we to accept is as authentic personal revelation, or, anecdotal hyperbole in attempt to glorify his way of living in contrast to Mark's?
I like the driving stuff, beautiful handheld camerawork from within the car of all sorts of Oregon imagery, as well as the conversation that goes on. The tidbit about Sid's, the record shop, closing and how Kurt refers to it as an "end of an era" was a neat little moment. I must comment here on the gorgeous musical score provided by Yo La Tengo, I'm not gifted enough to write clearly and poetically about music, but the simplicity and tone of the music is pitch perfect for the story told.
I'll tackle the nighttime campfire scene now, its a pretty meaty one, lots of important moments and story happen there. I liked the line, "you can't get real quiet anymore", it kind of calls back to Reichardt's films in general, which celebrate quiet moments. Kurt's line, "you should have been there", can be seen similarly to my question above, as either a subtle jab at the stifled life Mark leads, or as genuine sentiment. Another line I liked was Mark's, "you forget all of this is out here", which I think rings true, I know a lot of people caught in their daily grind that couldn't recall the last time they went hiking or just enjoyed the skyline.
Kurt talks about knowing more than his professor, and, I feel like a lot of us have heard people spout similar boasts. It could be true, in many cases, but whenever I've encountered people who talk like that I often find it as more of a security defense to excuse their own shortcomings in the classroom. We get another great example of the contrast between Mark and Kurt here: nonsensical ramblings (i.e. teardrop universes) vs. silent condescension. We get a feeling Mark's suddenly questioning this trek. Then Kurt drops the bombshell, "I miss you, Mark... I miss you really, really bad". This is such a telling declaration, Kurt really puts himself out there, exhibiting a fearlessness in confronting the gap that's grown between them.
Day Two
We'll start with the diner scene which is another key one I believe. It's another superb example of the contrast between Mark and Kurt, this time in regards to the speed at which they choose to operate/live their lives. When the waitress assures Kurt that the hot springs are nearby he's happy, mentioning that this means they can take their time. In stark contrast, Mark quickly gives the menu a glance then pushes it to the edge of the table, upon being asked if they needed more time, Mark quickly replies he doesn't, then after giving his order he makes a hasty retreat outside to answer his ringing phone (another item that demonstrates their differences, it appears Kurt doesn't own a cellular phone which says a lot).
Here's the first time where I was disappointed/angry with Mark, speaking to his wife he says judgmentally, "remember who we're dealing with" in reference to Kurt. It seems like a mean-spirited, unnecessary stab, probably not meant as a scornful indictment, but more as a way of showing allegiance to his wife by discrediting his friend and placing the blame Kurt's way. Then, upon reentering the diner, while Kurt's apologetic, Mark replies, "I never doubted you, man". This strikes me as a such a memorable moment. Watch Mark's eyes as he says it! I can't figure him out. This leads me to my next question: is this redemption for what he said outside, Mark revealing his true colors, giving Kurt a heartfelt vote of confidence, or, is it more deceit, a false affirmation?
Now we'll get to the woods, where the guys were headed all along, and where some more of the film's finer moments take place. Kurt says, "I'm so proud of you, Mark". He says it without much inflection, at first, you almost wonder, is he being facetious? But, at least for me, that thought quickly subsided as I believe Kurt really meant what he said. He did admire Mark for giving back to the community, unfortunately, Mark's acceptance of this praise ends up awkwardly as he sort of puts his foot in his mouth. I also want to comment here that I loved watching Lucy run around the woods during these scenes. It gave an aura of legitimacy and authenticity to the proceedings and a simple beauty which reminded me of being young and my parents taking my brother and I out to the woods with our dog.
They arrive at the hot springs, their destination, and it's all it was built up to be. As a viewer I didn't have hot water to slip into but I did feel the rehabilitating effects of the springs and could "feel" the scene. I liked Mark's smile during Kurt's fairly tangential story, it was one of the most major signs that he was genuinely happy and glad he'd came. The story does give us one of the film's best lines, "sorrow is nothing but worn-out joy".
Let's talk about the homoeroticism here, or lack there of, depending on your interpretation of the scene. Some people have very heavily believed there was a sexual element involved in the men's relationship. I'm not so easily convinced. While there's undertones that play in the scenes I don't think its overt or really directly implied. There's brief nudity as they strip down to bathe in the rejuvenating hot springs and then there's the massage. Watching it this time it was clear to me that there was a certain level of uncomfortableness on Mark's behalf at first. But, the act transforms into a really selfless, beautiful one of generosity. Kurt's relieving some the mighty stress Mark is inundated with. I think it's a really touching moment.
As Mark drops off Kurt playfully says, "hold on a sec", almost as if acknowledging Mark's desire to speed away back to his regular life. Manohla Dargis of the New York Times said in her review, "From the way Kurt looks at Mark, it seems clear he knows there won't be another reunion". Then, there's the ending. What do you make of it? I've read different opinions, but ultimately, I don't feel there's much to gain from focusing on it. As in life, with this film, I think it's more about the journey than the destination, it's the moments, both spoken and not, that we witness. As Roger Ebert said in his review, "And sometimes the greatest drama can take place between the lines, or outside the province of the frame, and all we notice is a pause or a glance." In interviews Reichardt has been clear that she wanted the film to be ambiguous and open-ended, to not tell her audience exactly what to think or feel, but to allow them to come to their own conclusions.
Conclusion
Mark and Kurt are very much a yin and yang, two opposite ends of the spectrum, one resigned to normalcy, a mortgage, family life, etc. and the other unable to release that grasp on freedom, as we recall Kurt saying, "I've never gotten myself into something I couldn't get out of". I see a lot of myself in both of them: I'm a new father and don't have the freedom to do exactly as I please anymore, so can relate to Mark, yet I'm very much like Kurt, a bit of a wandering philosopher, and definitely enjoy the solemnity of the outdoors. I can't recall another film that so poignantly tackles the topic of friends drifting apart. It has profound insight into the human condition.
I think the casting was perfect, Daniel London (as Mark) and musician Will Oldham (as Kurt) are both terrific. I've watched the film several times now and continue to notice subtle things both do performance-wise that astonish and amaze me.
I wanted to use a bevy of critic quotes, as honestly, I don't have the writing skills or eloquence, to help paint a picture. A lot of people have written wonderfully on this film and I guess I encourage you to seek much of that writing out if you enjoyed the movie. The booklet that comes with the DVD has excellent pieces from The New York Times and The New Republic in it, and Roger Ebert wrote a glowing, four-star review, from which this line came, "There are unarticulated tensions, feelings of sorrow, unease and even dread that course through the movie like a hidden creek."
I guess all that's left to say is, anybody want to go to Oregon with me and check out some hot springs?
I've seen this film multiple times now. Right off the bat, I'll just come out and say it -- I love it. It's a film that I see so much of myself in (in both Kurt and Mark), as well as my friends, etc. shaped by my own life experiences this far along in my journey. it really resonated with me and I find it deeply affecting. While I find it life-affirming and hauntingly beautiful I'm not beyond reason and can see how it wouldn't be everyone's cup of tea. While it worked on a deeply personal level with me, others may not connect with the material at all, but in that case, I hope something in the film does register with them, even if its on a base entertainment level. It's a film nobody has or is really talking about, although, the critics that did see it heaped tons of praise on it which I'll go into later on in my closing thoughts.
Let's get started -- to help myself stay structured/organized so I don't ramble into a messy love affair here while attempting an exploration of the film's themes I'll tackle the two days that we're privy to in film's world separately:
Day One
I love how the first sound we hear right away is a meditation gong. I know this from attending several meditation sittings at a nearby retreat I visit on occasion. The sound is accompanied by some tranquil images, i.e. the bird on the rooftop, etc. but the reason I think its significant is that gong is rang at the start of a period of meditation, almost as if in the film it's suggesting we're supposed to get to that place of relaxation and receptiveness. I also dig the quick shot of the ants, busily scurrying about, that juxtaposed with Mark meditating is a nice contrast, similarly to Mark and Kurt's own contrast (not that I believe the two are intrinsically linked).
The discussion between Mark and his wife Tanya rings all too eerily to real life. Now, it's not the most flattering portrayal of domesticity, and by referring to it and my own life I'm not trying to say its altogether bad, but I've been in that spot before, and I've seen other friends there also. That little argument, if we can call it that, gives us plenty of insight into why Mark may want to get away for a couple days.
Soon after we meet Kurt, one of the first noteworthy things he says is, when asked about a recent trip, how transformative it was, how he's in a whole new place now, etc. I'll be posing questions that I asked myself throughout this essay, the first relates to what Kurt said there, or we to accept is as authentic personal revelation, or, anecdotal hyperbole in attempt to glorify his way of living in contrast to Mark's?
I like the driving stuff, beautiful handheld camerawork from within the car of all sorts of Oregon imagery, as well as the conversation that goes on. The tidbit about Sid's, the record shop, closing and how Kurt refers to it as an "end of an era" was a neat little moment. I must comment here on the gorgeous musical score provided by Yo La Tengo, I'm not gifted enough to write clearly and poetically about music, but the simplicity and tone of the music is pitch perfect for the story told.
I'll tackle the nighttime campfire scene now, its a pretty meaty one, lots of important moments and story happen there. I liked the line, "you can't get real quiet anymore", it kind of calls back to Reichardt's films in general, which celebrate quiet moments. Kurt's line, "you should have been there", can be seen similarly to my question above, as either a subtle jab at the stifled life Mark leads, or as genuine sentiment. Another line I liked was Mark's, "you forget all of this is out here", which I think rings true, I know a lot of people caught in their daily grind that couldn't recall the last time they went hiking or just enjoyed the skyline.
Kurt talks about knowing more than his professor, and, I feel like a lot of us have heard people spout similar boasts. It could be true, in many cases, but whenever I've encountered people who talk like that I often find it as more of a security defense to excuse their own shortcomings in the classroom. We get another great example of the contrast between Mark and Kurt here: nonsensical ramblings (i.e. teardrop universes) vs. silent condescension. We get a feeling Mark's suddenly questioning this trek. Then Kurt drops the bombshell, "I miss you, Mark... I miss you really, really bad". This is such a telling declaration, Kurt really puts himself out there, exhibiting a fearlessness in confronting the gap that's grown between them.
Day Two
We'll start with the diner scene which is another key one I believe. It's another superb example of the contrast between Mark and Kurt, this time in regards to the speed at which they choose to operate/live their lives. When the waitress assures Kurt that the hot springs are nearby he's happy, mentioning that this means they can take their time. In stark contrast, Mark quickly gives the menu a glance then pushes it to the edge of the table, upon being asked if they needed more time, Mark quickly replies he doesn't, then after giving his order he makes a hasty retreat outside to answer his ringing phone (another item that demonstrates their differences, it appears Kurt doesn't own a cellular phone which says a lot).
Here's the first time where I was disappointed/angry with Mark, speaking to his wife he says judgmentally, "remember who we're dealing with" in reference to Kurt. It seems like a mean-spirited, unnecessary stab, probably not meant as a scornful indictment, but more as a way of showing allegiance to his wife by discrediting his friend and placing the blame Kurt's way. Then, upon reentering the diner, while Kurt's apologetic, Mark replies, "I never doubted you, man". This strikes me as a such a memorable moment. Watch Mark's eyes as he says it! I can't figure him out. This leads me to my next question: is this redemption for what he said outside, Mark revealing his true colors, giving Kurt a heartfelt vote of confidence, or, is it more deceit, a false affirmation?
Now we'll get to the woods, where the guys were headed all along, and where some more of the film's finer moments take place. Kurt says, "I'm so proud of you, Mark". He says it without much inflection, at first, you almost wonder, is he being facetious? But, at least for me, that thought quickly subsided as I believe Kurt really meant what he said. He did admire Mark for giving back to the community, unfortunately, Mark's acceptance of this praise ends up awkwardly as he sort of puts his foot in his mouth. I also want to comment here that I loved watching Lucy run around the woods during these scenes. It gave an aura of legitimacy and authenticity to the proceedings and a simple beauty which reminded me of being young and my parents taking my brother and I out to the woods with our dog.
They arrive at the hot springs, their destination, and it's all it was built up to be. As a viewer I didn't have hot water to slip into but I did feel the rehabilitating effects of the springs and could "feel" the scene. I liked Mark's smile during Kurt's fairly tangential story, it was one of the most major signs that he was genuinely happy and glad he'd came. The story does give us one of the film's best lines, "sorrow is nothing but worn-out joy".
Let's talk about the homoeroticism here, or lack there of, depending on your interpretation of the scene. Some people have very heavily believed there was a sexual element involved in the men's relationship. I'm not so easily convinced. While there's undertones that play in the scenes I don't think its overt or really directly implied. There's brief nudity as they strip down to bathe in the rejuvenating hot springs and then there's the massage. Watching it this time it was clear to me that there was a certain level of uncomfortableness on Mark's behalf at first. But, the act transforms into a really selfless, beautiful one of generosity. Kurt's relieving some the mighty stress Mark is inundated with. I think it's a really touching moment.
As Mark drops off Kurt playfully says, "hold on a sec", almost as if acknowledging Mark's desire to speed away back to his regular life. Manohla Dargis of the New York Times said in her review, "From the way Kurt looks at Mark, it seems clear he knows there won't be another reunion". Then, there's the ending. What do you make of it? I've read different opinions, but ultimately, I don't feel there's much to gain from focusing on it. As in life, with this film, I think it's more about the journey than the destination, it's the moments, both spoken and not, that we witness. As Roger Ebert said in his review, "And sometimes the greatest drama can take place between the lines, or outside the province of the frame, and all we notice is a pause or a glance." In interviews Reichardt has been clear that she wanted the film to be ambiguous and open-ended, to not tell her audience exactly what to think or feel, but to allow them to come to their own conclusions.
Conclusion
Mark and Kurt are very much a yin and yang, two opposite ends of the spectrum, one resigned to normalcy, a mortgage, family life, etc. and the other unable to release that grasp on freedom, as we recall Kurt saying, "I've never gotten myself into something I couldn't get out of". I see a lot of myself in both of them: I'm a new father and don't have the freedom to do exactly as I please anymore, so can relate to Mark, yet I'm very much like Kurt, a bit of a wandering philosopher, and definitely enjoy the solemnity of the outdoors. I can't recall another film that so poignantly tackles the topic of friends drifting apart. It has profound insight into the human condition.
I think the casting was perfect, Daniel London (as Mark) and musician Will Oldham (as Kurt) are both terrific. I've watched the film several times now and continue to notice subtle things both do performance-wise that astonish and amaze me.
I wanted to use a bevy of critic quotes, as honestly, I don't have the writing skills or eloquence, to help paint a picture. A lot of people have written wonderfully on this film and I guess I encourage you to seek much of that writing out if you enjoyed the movie. The booklet that comes with the DVD has excellent pieces from The New York Times and The New Republic in it, and Roger Ebert wrote a glowing, four-star review, from which this line came, "There are unarticulated tensions, feelings of sorrow, unease and even dread that course through the movie like a hidden creek."
I guess all that's left to say is, anybody want to go to Oregon with me and check out some hot springs?
Thursday, June 3, 2010
New Eyes: Movie Club
I started a movie discussion club titled New Eyes with a bunch of people where members get to select a film every two weeks and we all watch it on our own and then reconvene on a blog to discuss it. I'm writing a minimum of one "review" there every two weeks, as well as commenting on others' posts, so if you like what I do here and want more of my thoughts on film check it out!
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Le vieil homme et l'enfant (1967)
Claude Berri’s Le vieil homme et l'enfant (1967) (commonly referred to by its American title The Two of Us) is a fascinating look at an unlikely relationship formed between an old, anti-Semitic man Pepe and a young Jewish boy named Claude. This type of material, in the wrong director’s hands, could quickly turn schmaltzy, mushy, and sentimental. But, in Berri’s competent hands, it feels very naturalistic, not forced, and allows us to look beyond the surface into some of the deeper truths the film conjures up. With the exception of some of the musical score choices, gone are most semblances of that sort of Hollywood heavy handiness, replaced by a camera that doesn’t impose a viewpoint, but allows us watch a tender bond formed before our very eyes. Examining and analyzing different aspects of the film, what it may have done both successfully and not, will provide a deeper understanding on its overall effect, and in historical context, its rank among the more important films dealing with the Holocaust.
To get to the core of the film in as succinct as way as possible, the most telling line delivered in the film is by young Claude, who asks, “Why doesn't he like Jews if he is nice?” This, on the surface, a relatively simplistic and childlike question of naiveté, actually strikes much deeper than its straightforwardness may suggest. On a deeper, psychological scale, Claude’s innocent inquiry is a very rational, even logical, question to be considered. Why does Pepe so blindly hate? This question is complicated further, as throughout the film, with the exception of his anti-Semitism, Pepe is portrayed as a rather kind man, full of many good traits and ultimately very likeable. Pepe is a vegetarian; he fiercely refuses to partake in the usual dinner selection of rabbit. They raise rabbits on their own land, animals which Pepe looks after sweetly, cooing and pampering as if they were his very own personal pets. Pepe also has a dog, one much beloved, that we regularly see Pepe feeding with a spoon at the dinner table, as if the dog was a regular member of the family. It’s clear the dog has served as Pepe’s closest ally and friend, as the film progresses we see Claude moving into that position, as now, Pepe not only has a confidant that will listen, but also ask questions and interact with him. So, returning to the aforementioned question, why does this caring old man hate Jews? He even says himself they’ve never done anything to him personally. The answer, unfortunately, isn’t as cut and dry as a simple explanation. I think that holds true for many during the time of the Holocaust itself, who, without all the reliable information, weren’t sure what or how to think, not until later, when the truth was revealed, really understanding and starting to comprehend the atrocity.
Another way Claude gets about asking the same sort of moral question is bringing religion into the conversation. Pepe is a religious man, we see him attending Mass, and yet, certain ideological truths, when confronted with them, leave him bewildered and dismissive. This is showcased quite beautifully in one exchange between the two central characters:
Claude:
Was Jesus a Jew?
Pepe:
So they say.
Claude:
Then God is a Jew, too.
Pepe isn’t sure how to answer this, not just in terms of shaping an answer so a child can understand it, but, we feel as though he isn’t entirely sure himself how a justification can be made to hate all Jews in the face of such a rational line of thinking. The theological repercussions of Pepe’s savior being a Jew, an ethnicity he’s defiled, defamed, and degraded, is too powerful to consider by Pepe, who conveniently disregards exploring it further.
Before exploring other philosophical quandaries, and looking at some of the technical and aesthetic aspects of the filmmaking itself, it’d be imprudent to go much further without stepping back and fleshing out the film’s plot itself. As we analyze and offer commentary on the film’s content, it’s crucial to know the overlying storyline that holds it together as a work, and gives the genesis for the greater ideas and concepts it in turn presents us. Living in France with his parents during the Nazi occupation, we meet Claude, an 8-year-old boy. In the beginning act they’re living in an attic, attempting to remain hidden and concealed, yet Claude’s wild behavior threatens to expose them all. The parents decide it’d be in Claude’s best interest to temporarily live elsewhere, in fears he may be sent to Auschwitz or somewhere else, arranging for him to live with an old farming family.
Claude has to take on a new identity, receiving a new last name that conceals his Jewry, learning some rituals of Catholicism like the Lord’s Prayer, and is warned not to let anyone see his circumcised penis (which is represented cleverly later as young Claude fiercely opposes any help during a bath). The elderly Pepe and Meme take him in graciously as their own, and, during their time together they build a strong and mutually affectionate bond. Pepe believes World War II is the fault of Jews (as well as his other sworn enemies, communists, Freemasons, and the British). Pepe stringently pushes his anti-Semitism onto young Claude, who typically undermines it with his youthful playfulness, teasing the old man subtly about his prejudices while never letting on his own true identity.
The film has several contrasts at its heart, several of which strike a very delicate balance, while others are arguably more clichéd but familiar story devices. There are five main contrasts worth examining: old age/childhood, humor/potential crisis, country/city, joyous bonding/hidden secrets, and Gentile/Jew. The first contrast is old age and childhood, demonstrated superbly throughout the film with the relationship of Pepe and Claude. Pepe brings with him wisdom and experience, earned from years of labor and love, while Claude exemplifies the curiosity and energy of youth. This particular contrast is crucial to the film working, as with two elderly or childlike actors in the roles, it’d dramatically deflate the film’s powerful message. It also goes to show that while Pepe is the wiser of the two, when it comes to his bigotry, his intellectualism is challenged. The second contrast is humor and potential crisis. Humor is used throughout the scenes of Pepe and Claude together; it alleviates the mood, distracting from the very real concerns of the time. Pepe and Meme have very likely not had young children around in a long time, to have the exuberant young Claude running around brings joy and laughter back into their house. On the opposite side of the coin is the severity of what may happen if Claude’s Jewish ancestry is unveiled, accidentally or otherwise, or if news comes that his parents have been captured or potentially worse. Their entire existences rests on a fragile line, with the potential to slip, going from playfulness and contentment, to anger and disillusionment.
The third contrast deals with the environmental and setting differences, simplified to country and city. In many films throughout time we’ve been given stereotypical portrayals of both city and country folk. Here, Claude comes from the city, accustomed to a faster-paced lifestyle, running around when he can with neighborhood kids in the streets, getting into mischief, etc. When he arrives in the country life is lived at a slower speed and appears simpler. It’s not all picturesque and serene, he still has to deal with bullies, kids that throw objects at Claude and chase after him. But, there’s definitely a shift, although Claude seems to transition fairly nicely into his new surroundings. The fourth contrast is somewhat similar to the second, this one being between joyous bonding and hidden secrets. Claude is welcomed with open arms by both Pepe and Meme, they take him in as own of their own, and over time, there’s no doubt they’ve grown close through their shared experiences. Everyone comes out of this period together better for it. But, underneath Claude’s usual mischievous smile or happy embrace, lies his dangerous secret, that the identity he’s living is a lie. What would have happened had he reveled his true self – that he was in fact a Jew all along? We’ll never know, but that very question straddles the contrast that marks the distinction between the bonding and hiding of secrets. The last major contrast I identified was Gentile and Jew. It can, in many ways, be tired back directly into some of the previous contrasts. One on hand, we have an anti-Semite, one who claims he can smell any Jew in his immediate vicinity, and on the other, a young Jewish boy, forced to conceal his real background. It’s this contrast that makes the movie work; it’s the basis for the story, which takes shape and grows from our understanding of it. Taken all together, the many contrasts are useful in making the film more engaging, they provide the intrigue that makes the material so fascinating and deeply affecting.
The cinematography and sound in the film are rather perfunctory; the saving grace is in the acting and the director’s firm grip on storytelling. Cinematographer Jean Penzer shoots the film in black and white, which at times is rather effective and gorgeous. It definitely adds a sense of timeliness to the film that it would have lacked in color. The film starts with a voiceover from Claude as a man looking back, as though the story is told through his remembrances, which would also make the historical quality the black and white photography gives the film appropriate. In the beginning it was obvious there wasn’t going to be a lot of camera trickery, during the scenes in the attic with Claude and his parents, it almost felt as if they were on a stage performing theatrically, the camera remained back without many cuts, letting us view the scene from a slightly detached spectatorship. George Delerue’s score is fairly understated, generally doing a nice job of mirroring the film’s many moods, only getting in the way when it drifts into sentimentality, as in the scene where Pepe and Claude are outdoors seeing to the rabbits.
The acting as previously stated is very good and noteworthy. Michel Simon, as Pepe, is a joy to behold. Simon was nearing the twilight of his career, but at this point had a sturdy reputation in the industry as a wonderful character actor. He has a persona that threatens to overwhelm the screen, bringing the character of Pepe to life in wonderful ways. Although most won’t agree with Pepe’s personal politics, it’s hard not to like the old man, who despite his flaws and stubbornness, is undeniably loveable and shows a genuine affection towards young Claude. Alain Cohen was plucked from a Hebrew school to play Claude and delivered a tremendous performance. The DVD came with an informative booklet, included in it is an essay titled “The Two of Us: War and Peace” by David Sterrit, who says, “Cohen gives one of the all-time great child performances, conveying a wide array of emotions with his expressive mouth and shining dark eyes.” I agree wholeheartedly. Young Cohen brings all the verve of childhood to the forefront, while also feeling natural in quieter scenes, such as relaxing next to Pepe after playing out in the fields. When Meme pleads with Claude to allow her to help wash him to speed up the process, he covers himself and sulks down in the water for protection, but it’s the knowing look in his eyes as she leaves that says so much. I won’t soon forget when young Claude wakes fervently from a nightmare, rushing into Pepe’s room, waking him up startled, “I was afraid I was one of them!” he cries in terror, when asked whom he’s referring to, Claude answers matter-of-factly, “A Jew!”
The Two of Us concludes somewhat abruptly and is open-ended. We see Claude being picked up and leaving with his parents. David Sterrit, in the aforementioned essay, said, “(the film) refuses to spell out what might follow for the characters, allowing us to imagine their futures for ourselves.” Famed movie critic Roger Ebert reviewed the film twice, once when it was initially released, and then again in 2005 when he inducted it in his list of “Great Movies.” In his first review he championed the ending for being anti-Hollywood, “The ending is happy, but it isn't phony. If Hollywood had done this film, the old man would have discovered at the end that the boy was Jewish. Then there would have been a fine liberal curtain speech about the brotherhood of man.” And upon revisiting the film over thirty years later, Ebert had this to say on the film’s ending, “He (Pepe) is not converted in his thinking by this movie, and one of its strengths is that it ends without him ever becoming enlightened. Such a scene of discovery would be a sentimental irrelevance, because the movie is not concerned with what Pepe knows but with who Pepe is; the person who learns and grows is Claude.”
I included these quotes as I think they shine a light on the open ending. Generally, open endings aren’t a device used often in films, people tend to want closure and typically get it in some form. But, this film works in the way of a snapshot, similarly to Richard Linklater’s beautiful Before Sunrise (1995), which focuses on one single night a man and women spend together walking and talking through Vienna. In The Two of Us, we get a glimpse into a life-altering relationship between an elderly man and young boy, to know of what happens in the future is of no real consequence or importance beyond general curiosity. In the film’s brief running time of 87 minutes it packs an emotional wallop and the ending, while sudden, seems fitting.
In closing, amongst its brethren in the category of Holocaust-related films I feel The Two of Us has its own unique niche and place. While many of the films I’ve seen dealing with the atrocity bring the viewer into the hellish living conditions of the camps, as well as show the humiliating and brutal treatment of detainees, Claude Berri chooses not. In fact, with the exception of a select few snippets of dialogue, the Nazis aren’t referred to often and are never seen. Berri was more interested in telling a tale that appeals to the human condition, dealing with what it meant to be a Jew during a tumultuous time in history, and ultimately did it in an original and touching way.
To get to the core of the film in as succinct as way as possible, the most telling line delivered in the film is by young Claude, who asks, “Why doesn't he like Jews if he is nice?” This, on the surface, a relatively simplistic and childlike question of naiveté, actually strikes much deeper than its straightforwardness may suggest. On a deeper, psychological scale, Claude’s innocent inquiry is a very rational, even logical, question to be considered. Why does Pepe so blindly hate? This question is complicated further, as throughout the film, with the exception of his anti-Semitism, Pepe is portrayed as a rather kind man, full of many good traits and ultimately very likeable. Pepe is a vegetarian; he fiercely refuses to partake in the usual dinner selection of rabbit. They raise rabbits on their own land, animals which Pepe looks after sweetly, cooing and pampering as if they were his very own personal pets. Pepe also has a dog, one much beloved, that we regularly see Pepe feeding with a spoon at the dinner table, as if the dog was a regular member of the family. It’s clear the dog has served as Pepe’s closest ally and friend, as the film progresses we see Claude moving into that position, as now, Pepe not only has a confidant that will listen, but also ask questions and interact with him. So, returning to the aforementioned question, why does this caring old man hate Jews? He even says himself they’ve never done anything to him personally. The answer, unfortunately, isn’t as cut and dry as a simple explanation. I think that holds true for many during the time of the Holocaust itself, who, without all the reliable information, weren’t sure what or how to think, not until later, when the truth was revealed, really understanding and starting to comprehend the atrocity.
Another way Claude gets about asking the same sort of moral question is bringing religion into the conversation. Pepe is a religious man, we see him attending Mass, and yet, certain ideological truths, when confronted with them, leave him bewildered and dismissive. This is showcased quite beautifully in one exchange between the two central characters:
Claude:
Was Jesus a Jew?
Pepe:
So they say.
Claude:
Then God is a Jew, too.
Pepe isn’t sure how to answer this, not just in terms of shaping an answer so a child can understand it, but, we feel as though he isn’t entirely sure himself how a justification can be made to hate all Jews in the face of such a rational line of thinking. The theological repercussions of Pepe’s savior being a Jew, an ethnicity he’s defiled, defamed, and degraded, is too powerful to consider by Pepe, who conveniently disregards exploring it further.
Before exploring other philosophical quandaries, and looking at some of the technical and aesthetic aspects of the filmmaking itself, it’d be imprudent to go much further without stepping back and fleshing out the film’s plot itself. As we analyze and offer commentary on the film’s content, it’s crucial to know the overlying storyline that holds it together as a work, and gives the genesis for the greater ideas and concepts it in turn presents us. Living in France with his parents during the Nazi occupation, we meet Claude, an 8-year-old boy. In the beginning act they’re living in an attic, attempting to remain hidden and concealed, yet Claude’s wild behavior threatens to expose them all. The parents decide it’d be in Claude’s best interest to temporarily live elsewhere, in fears he may be sent to Auschwitz or somewhere else, arranging for him to live with an old farming family.
Claude has to take on a new identity, receiving a new last name that conceals his Jewry, learning some rituals of Catholicism like the Lord’s Prayer, and is warned not to let anyone see his circumcised penis (which is represented cleverly later as young Claude fiercely opposes any help during a bath). The elderly Pepe and Meme take him in graciously as their own, and, during their time together they build a strong and mutually affectionate bond. Pepe believes World War II is the fault of Jews (as well as his other sworn enemies, communists, Freemasons, and the British). Pepe stringently pushes his anti-Semitism onto young Claude, who typically undermines it with his youthful playfulness, teasing the old man subtly about his prejudices while never letting on his own true identity.
The film has several contrasts at its heart, several of which strike a very delicate balance, while others are arguably more clichéd but familiar story devices. There are five main contrasts worth examining: old age/childhood, humor/potential crisis, country/city, joyous bonding/hidden secrets, and Gentile/Jew. The first contrast is old age and childhood, demonstrated superbly throughout the film with the relationship of Pepe and Claude. Pepe brings with him wisdom and experience, earned from years of labor and love, while Claude exemplifies the curiosity and energy of youth. This particular contrast is crucial to the film working, as with two elderly or childlike actors in the roles, it’d dramatically deflate the film’s powerful message. It also goes to show that while Pepe is the wiser of the two, when it comes to his bigotry, his intellectualism is challenged. The second contrast is humor and potential crisis. Humor is used throughout the scenes of Pepe and Claude together; it alleviates the mood, distracting from the very real concerns of the time. Pepe and Meme have very likely not had young children around in a long time, to have the exuberant young Claude running around brings joy and laughter back into their house. On the opposite side of the coin is the severity of what may happen if Claude’s Jewish ancestry is unveiled, accidentally or otherwise, or if news comes that his parents have been captured or potentially worse. Their entire existences rests on a fragile line, with the potential to slip, going from playfulness and contentment, to anger and disillusionment.
The third contrast deals with the environmental and setting differences, simplified to country and city. In many films throughout time we’ve been given stereotypical portrayals of both city and country folk. Here, Claude comes from the city, accustomed to a faster-paced lifestyle, running around when he can with neighborhood kids in the streets, getting into mischief, etc. When he arrives in the country life is lived at a slower speed and appears simpler. It’s not all picturesque and serene, he still has to deal with bullies, kids that throw objects at Claude and chase after him. But, there’s definitely a shift, although Claude seems to transition fairly nicely into his new surroundings. The fourth contrast is somewhat similar to the second, this one being between joyous bonding and hidden secrets. Claude is welcomed with open arms by both Pepe and Meme, they take him in as own of their own, and over time, there’s no doubt they’ve grown close through their shared experiences. Everyone comes out of this period together better for it. But, underneath Claude’s usual mischievous smile or happy embrace, lies his dangerous secret, that the identity he’s living is a lie. What would have happened had he reveled his true self – that he was in fact a Jew all along? We’ll never know, but that very question straddles the contrast that marks the distinction between the bonding and hiding of secrets. The last major contrast I identified was Gentile and Jew. It can, in many ways, be tired back directly into some of the previous contrasts. One on hand, we have an anti-Semite, one who claims he can smell any Jew in his immediate vicinity, and on the other, a young Jewish boy, forced to conceal his real background. It’s this contrast that makes the movie work; it’s the basis for the story, which takes shape and grows from our understanding of it. Taken all together, the many contrasts are useful in making the film more engaging, they provide the intrigue that makes the material so fascinating and deeply affecting.
The cinematography and sound in the film are rather perfunctory; the saving grace is in the acting and the director’s firm grip on storytelling. Cinematographer Jean Penzer shoots the film in black and white, which at times is rather effective and gorgeous. It definitely adds a sense of timeliness to the film that it would have lacked in color. The film starts with a voiceover from Claude as a man looking back, as though the story is told through his remembrances, which would also make the historical quality the black and white photography gives the film appropriate. In the beginning it was obvious there wasn’t going to be a lot of camera trickery, during the scenes in the attic with Claude and his parents, it almost felt as if they were on a stage performing theatrically, the camera remained back without many cuts, letting us view the scene from a slightly detached spectatorship. George Delerue’s score is fairly understated, generally doing a nice job of mirroring the film’s many moods, only getting in the way when it drifts into sentimentality, as in the scene where Pepe and Claude are outdoors seeing to the rabbits.
The acting as previously stated is very good and noteworthy. Michel Simon, as Pepe, is a joy to behold. Simon was nearing the twilight of his career, but at this point had a sturdy reputation in the industry as a wonderful character actor. He has a persona that threatens to overwhelm the screen, bringing the character of Pepe to life in wonderful ways. Although most won’t agree with Pepe’s personal politics, it’s hard not to like the old man, who despite his flaws and stubbornness, is undeniably loveable and shows a genuine affection towards young Claude. Alain Cohen was plucked from a Hebrew school to play Claude and delivered a tremendous performance. The DVD came with an informative booklet, included in it is an essay titled “The Two of Us: War and Peace” by David Sterrit, who says, “Cohen gives one of the all-time great child performances, conveying a wide array of emotions with his expressive mouth and shining dark eyes.” I agree wholeheartedly. Young Cohen brings all the verve of childhood to the forefront, while also feeling natural in quieter scenes, such as relaxing next to Pepe after playing out in the fields. When Meme pleads with Claude to allow her to help wash him to speed up the process, he covers himself and sulks down in the water for protection, but it’s the knowing look in his eyes as she leaves that says so much. I won’t soon forget when young Claude wakes fervently from a nightmare, rushing into Pepe’s room, waking him up startled, “I was afraid I was one of them!” he cries in terror, when asked whom he’s referring to, Claude answers matter-of-factly, “A Jew!”
The Two of Us concludes somewhat abruptly and is open-ended. We see Claude being picked up and leaving with his parents. David Sterrit, in the aforementioned essay, said, “(the film) refuses to spell out what might follow for the characters, allowing us to imagine their futures for ourselves.” Famed movie critic Roger Ebert reviewed the film twice, once when it was initially released, and then again in 2005 when he inducted it in his list of “Great Movies.” In his first review he championed the ending for being anti-Hollywood, “The ending is happy, but it isn't phony. If Hollywood had done this film, the old man would have discovered at the end that the boy was Jewish. Then there would have been a fine liberal curtain speech about the brotherhood of man.” And upon revisiting the film over thirty years later, Ebert had this to say on the film’s ending, “He (Pepe) is not converted in his thinking by this movie, and one of its strengths is that it ends without him ever becoming enlightened. Such a scene of discovery would be a sentimental irrelevance, because the movie is not concerned with what Pepe knows but with who Pepe is; the person who learns and grows is Claude.”
I included these quotes as I think they shine a light on the open ending. Generally, open endings aren’t a device used often in films, people tend to want closure and typically get it in some form. But, this film works in the way of a snapshot, similarly to Richard Linklater’s beautiful Before Sunrise (1995), which focuses on one single night a man and women spend together walking and talking through Vienna. In The Two of Us, we get a glimpse into a life-altering relationship between an elderly man and young boy, to know of what happens in the future is of no real consequence or importance beyond general curiosity. In the film’s brief running time of 87 minutes it packs an emotional wallop and the ending, while sudden, seems fitting.
In closing, amongst its brethren in the category of Holocaust-related films I feel The Two of Us has its own unique niche and place. While many of the films I’ve seen dealing with the atrocity bring the viewer into the hellish living conditions of the camps, as well as show the humiliating and brutal treatment of detainees, Claude Berri chooses not. In fact, with the exception of a select few snippets of dialogue, the Nazis aren’t referred to often and are never seen. Berri was more interested in telling a tale that appeals to the human condition, dealing with what it meant to be a Jew during a tumultuous time in history, and ultimately did it in an original and touching way.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Collected Thoughts #2
Cube (1997) is eerily similar to Saw, with complicated puzzling, gore, and a seemingly random group of people attempting to figure out how they got in the situation while attempting to survive it. Its premise is a little more interesting, as they're stuck in a gigantic cube, each room a cube with different cubes that lead into yet more cubes. Some of the rooms are safe, others are trapped and deadly. Math becomes important, as the victims try looking for clues, patterns, etc. While the idea itself is quite unique, the execution is lacking. Its obvious the film was done on a very low budget, the acting especially suffers, with all of the characters coming off archetypical and the performances ham-fisted. There's a lot of screaming. It has a sequel which I'll be cautiously watching soon.
Frozen River (2008) is powerful, unglamorous filmmaking. In its too brief running time of 97 minutes we're introduced to Ray, a mother of two young boys, who's husband has deserted, and her meager earnings at the local dollar store aren't quite cutting it. It deals with the pressures and lengths one will go to to provide for their own. Its a stark, gray film, cold as the icy environment that exists in it. I'd recommend it for those interested in human drama.
The Brothers Bloom (2008) is, at times, too clever for its own good. In that way, kind of poking at the conventions of film and storytelling. It's about two con-men, and although I'd be happy to not see another heist picture for a long time, it's done with a sly grin that adds a layer of appeal. I'm a big Mark Ruffalo fan, and like Adrien Brody, too; that helped influence my decision to watch it and I think most people can find something in it to appreciate. Rachel Weisz, who I didn't start paying attention to until The Fountain (2006), is also quite good is lonely heiress to a fortune but full of naiveté and aloofness.
I felt like This is It (2009) was alright but that you needed to be familar with Michael Jackson to really appreciate it fully. It wasn't an extensive career biopic or anything. But, if you don't like his stuff, or never heard of him, it'd likely do very little for you. I thought, at best, it showed heart, chiefly in the very opening scenes, when dancers from around the world shared their excitement about being able to share the stage with the undeniable king of pop music. It was interesting seeing the rehearsals, what they'd planned for a giant farewell tour that was not to be, cool to hear some of the old, familiar tunes (I especially liked the Jackson 5 song). Overall, though, unless you're a fan than it's not worth going out of your way for.
The Invention of Lying (2009) plays upon a really odd premise but works in its own quirky way. What if there was a world where there was no lying? It just didn't exist. That idea is rife with comedic potential: imagine a first date where, when you go to pick up the girl, she apologizes for not being fully ready because she was masturbating upstairs? That's just one of the many ways they explore and utilize the concept. I thought the ending was too saccharine sweet, but it's a romantic comedy, so I guess its forgivable. Ricky Gervais in the role of lovable loser is pretty easy to accept.
Public Enemies (2009) was mostly solid. No need to have squandered Christian Bale's talents in the role of Melvin Purvis. He was resolutely stone-faced and besides name value, they could have slipped any number of other people in there. Johnny Depp, though, as lead character John Dillinger has some really good moments. He and his love interest (played by Marion Cotillard) have good chemistry together on-screen, watch their eyes when they talk to each other, adds a layer of gravity to the performances for sure. The game of cat and mouse, with Dillinger always being on the run, is fairly engrossing even though history buffs know the end result.
The Hurt Locker (2009) -- wow. This movie hit me like an uppercut by a trained boxer to the gut. When these young men, a bomb squad, would go into missions in the middle of Iraq, each time I felt myself on the edge of the seat in ways I hadn't felt since the criminally underrated Judgment Night (1993). Jeremey Renner's portrayal of SSG William James is one of the best of '09. A guy whom, while having a wife and little boy back home (the isolationism he feels while grocery shopping after his tour is an incredibly strong moment), can't seem to think about anything else then deactivating deadly bombs in the hellish desert war zone. It's a great movie about real people, people faced incredibly difficult tasks, and people with real fears (I almost shed a tear when Anthony Mackie's character Sgt. Sanborn says: "I want a little boy!").
Entre les murs (2008) is a film that didn't generate a lot in me, it feels more like a snapshot than a complete narrative. Its about a teacher (played by François Bégaudeau in a good performance) dealing with a rough group of students. That summarization, while succinct, aptly tells the movie's tale. The film almost entirely takes place in the classroom, or in the teacher's lounge, and is purposefully made to feel like a documentary. I like quieter films about real people, I wouldn't say this one necessarily qualifies, while I was engaged with the goings-on it ultimately felt like a wasted opportunity to perhaps do more.
Frozen River (2008) is powerful, unglamorous filmmaking. In its too brief running time of 97 minutes we're introduced to Ray, a mother of two young boys, who's husband has deserted, and her meager earnings at the local dollar store aren't quite cutting it. It deals with the pressures and lengths one will go to to provide for their own. Its a stark, gray film, cold as the icy environment that exists in it. I'd recommend it for those interested in human drama.
The Brothers Bloom (2008) is, at times, too clever for its own good. In that way, kind of poking at the conventions of film and storytelling. It's about two con-men, and although I'd be happy to not see another heist picture for a long time, it's done with a sly grin that adds a layer of appeal. I'm a big Mark Ruffalo fan, and like Adrien Brody, too; that helped influence my decision to watch it and I think most people can find something in it to appreciate. Rachel Weisz, who I didn't start paying attention to until The Fountain (2006), is also quite good is lonely heiress to a fortune but full of naiveté and aloofness.
I felt like This is It (2009) was alright but that you needed to be familar with Michael Jackson to really appreciate it fully. It wasn't an extensive career biopic or anything. But, if you don't like his stuff, or never heard of him, it'd likely do very little for you. I thought, at best, it showed heart, chiefly in the very opening scenes, when dancers from around the world shared their excitement about being able to share the stage with the undeniable king of pop music. It was interesting seeing the rehearsals, what they'd planned for a giant farewell tour that was not to be, cool to hear some of the old, familiar tunes (I especially liked the Jackson 5 song). Overall, though, unless you're a fan than it's not worth going out of your way for.
The Invention of Lying (2009) plays upon a really odd premise but works in its own quirky way. What if there was a world where there was no lying? It just didn't exist. That idea is rife with comedic potential: imagine a first date where, when you go to pick up the girl, she apologizes for not being fully ready because she was masturbating upstairs? That's just one of the many ways they explore and utilize the concept. I thought the ending was too saccharine sweet, but it's a romantic comedy, so I guess its forgivable. Ricky Gervais in the role of lovable loser is pretty easy to accept.
Public Enemies (2009) was mostly solid. No need to have squandered Christian Bale's talents in the role of Melvin Purvis. He was resolutely stone-faced and besides name value, they could have slipped any number of other people in there. Johnny Depp, though, as lead character John Dillinger has some really good moments. He and his love interest (played by Marion Cotillard) have good chemistry together on-screen, watch their eyes when they talk to each other, adds a layer of gravity to the performances for sure. The game of cat and mouse, with Dillinger always being on the run, is fairly engrossing even though history buffs know the end result.
The Hurt Locker (2009) -- wow. This movie hit me like an uppercut by a trained boxer to the gut. When these young men, a bomb squad, would go into missions in the middle of Iraq, each time I felt myself on the edge of the seat in ways I hadn't felt since the criminally underrated Judgment Night (1993). Jeremey Renner's portrayal of SSG William James is one of the best of '09. A guy whom, while having a wife and little boy back home (the isolationism he feels while grocery shopping after his tour is an incredibly strong moment), can't seem to think about anything else then deactivating deadly bombs in the hellish desert war zone. It's a great movie about real people, people faced incredibly difficult tasks, and people with real fears (I almost shed a tear when Anthony Mackie's character Sgt. Sanborn says: "I want a little boy!").
Entre les murs (2008) is a film that didn't generate a lot in me, it feels more like a snapshot than a complete narrative. Its about a teacher (played by François Bégaudeau in a good performance) dealing with a rough group of students. That summarization, while succinct, aptly tells the movie's tale. The film almost entirely takes place in the classroom, or in the teacher's lounge, and is purposefully made to feel like a documentary. I like quieter films about real people, I wouldn't say this one necessarily qualifies, while I was engaged with the goings-on it ultimately felt like a wasted opportunity to perhaps do more.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Film Discussion #1: Descent (2007)
My friend Jessie and I are going to exchange movies neither of us have seen before and I'll be posting here our e-mail discussions about the movies. I hope you enjoy these dialogues:
Jessie:
it was an obviously dark film, not sure which of the two rape scenes i had a harder time watching really. Rape is always a terrible crime and whenever you watch a film about it, it usually plays out much like this, i don't want ot make light of the act and aftermath itself, but the plot i kind of felt was retread, not necessarily how she carried on after but just the overall tone and self-deprecation of herself afterwards. I wondered how she maintained her lifestyle of drugs and promiscous sex yet still kept her job and her grades up? Also, one thing i don't think was very clear was the guy, he's a very charming dude and then there's this other side to him, a rapist, a cheat, a loser, but what are the qualities of this guy that turned him into a such a violent atrocity during the rape scene and then a kind of dumb slackoff in the next scene, his ego is the big factor but I thought it was poor characterization. Overall, can't say i would recommend this to anyone else, even being a fan of Rosario, i wasn't too enthralled with her performance, i know it's supposed to be uncomfortable, but it's even more so than that: i wasn't really attached to anyone in the film at all, i think more dialogue or character scenes for her would have helped the viewer grow more attached to her as a person instead of just scene after scene of her degrading behavior and her thinking back on it during work. so that's my 2 cents, what did you think?
Brian:
i can see a lot of what you're saying and where you are coming from.. - i think, ultimately, it is a flawed film.. - its basically told in three acts: introduction/rape, her venture into the realm of sexual violence/drugs, and lastly, her revenge.. - i think you covered a lot of the ground in regards to what the film does poorly.. - you mentioned perhaps having more character-related scenes, although, after watching the two deleted scenes, i actually liked her character less.. - they definitely deserved to be on the cutting room floor.. - i felt the second act was the hardest to find good in.. - in terms of story, i wasn't entirely clear on her objectives/motivations, and in terms of filmmaking.. it felt hurried and i got emotionally detached in it.. - the stuff at the clothing store all felt superficial and not particularly well laid out..
things i liked.. - at first, there were moments, even alone in my apartment that i felt awkward watching.. - but, after a day or two, i could reflect and there were some things i did enjoy.. - the scene where she's in the bathroom looking in the mirror.. imitating Adrian.. trying to give herself that false self-confidence.. understanding the ramifications of power/control.. - i also felt, while the third act is the hardest to watch (at times) it also has in my opinion the most rewarding pieces of cinema.. - the best part (for me) of the film is when Jared goes to meet her.. - the facade of toughness tarnishes as vulnerability begins to seep through.. his faking non-embarrassment as he stands naked.. stark.. unsure.. - i especially liked when Maya called him out on lying about his braggadocios football tales.. - she says, "you didn't score a touchdown" and that small moment where internally he realizes he's been had but outwardly he stumbles just a bit but replies attempting assuredness "I did"..
Jared, overall, i felt was the most interesting character.. - his narcissism masking his weakness.. - walks through the hallway chewing sunflower seeds confidently, but we see in the locker room after football practice, a tubby, out of shape guy easily manhandles him a la a little brother.. - the things he was saying why he raped her.. - in terms of psychology, i was fascinated by the words chosen and their roots.. - what had happened to him before college to turn him into such a monster?
you're right, this wasn't Rosario's best, her moments of candidness and reserved superiority at the party where some of her better character moments.. - when she turned to the dark side, so to speak, i found her character less and less relatable/understandable.. - watching the special features, its clear she felt strongly and passionately about the project, going so far as stepping up to produce it herself to ensure it getting made.. - my overall thoughts on the film are tiptoeing on the line.. i couldn't give it a full-fledged recommendation.. there's too much they didn't get right.. which is a shame as it had great potential as a bold piece..
Jessie:
oh that's interesting, i wasn't able to watch the deleted scenes so i wasn't aware of that part.
okay i shouldn't be all negative, interesting things for me were her as a teacher's assistant and being a test proctor, it was the only glimpse into the shiver of life she seemingly left behind, as we see her graduate with indifference, yet she still retains that connection but maybe that was part of the setup to luring him in, although how would she know he would cheat? I also liked the locker room tussle part, but i wasn't too sure how it played out, like were those two friends, but he did seem embarrassed by the action. Also liked the long walking shot of him, which plays into him being alone with himself, his thoughts and actions. You can see that he is a loner, no friends are around, his complete attention is given to Rosario, no other women in his life, no one talking to him at the party, and afterwards, he's on the football team but apparently not very good, as you mentioned, she follows the team and outs him, which he tries to hide. They are some interesting factors that play into his character now that I look at it more deeply, think you may be onto something.
My problem with her role is that you wondered, was this really her all along? was this who she wanted to be/or was, like when she's having intercourse with two diff. people, she is happy, seemingly, and even pleased thinking of it, even in her gregarious junkie looking state (which i'm surprised an uppity clothing place like that hired her, as she mostly looks like the walking dead) but I guess the film didn't have the same effect on me, as I haven't really been thinking about it, or what it was trying to say. There is a usually a role reversal scene like near what happens at the end of the film in other pieces like this and almost always the heroine comes out of it with her revenge, but never really going back to their old life, which I wish we could have seen a least a moment afterwards as to what happens now. Thought the DJ was interesting, i mean, did he and Rosario sleep together in some scenes, thought i saw them in the club together, or was he just homosexual and if so, does that mean he would willingly rape another man, shouldn't there be more to it than that? It was a hard film to watch but ultimately I think what leaves me feeling void from it is my lack of connection to her and what had become of her after it, despite the terrible tragedy of the event.
Brian:
i think Adrian was bi-sexual.. - i recall a scene in the club where Maya glimpses him standing with his hand on a girl's head while she's blowing him.. - i think, overall, in closing, we can agree that at its best there are some rare moments of interest and character development.. - but overall its a flawed film with some major holes.. namely in the depiction (and lack thereof) of Maya.. - as you asked, more or less, what happens next? - for Maya? for Jared? for us? the last one isn't so hard to answer.. we walk away from the film feeling moderately disturbed and left with more questions instead of growth or gained knowledge..
Jessie:
it was an obviously dark film, not sure which of the two rape scenes i had a harder time watching really. Rape is always a terrible crime and whenever you watch a film about it, it usually plays out much like this, i don't want ot make light of the act and aftermath itself, but the plot i kind of felt was retread, not necessarily how she carried on after but just the overall tone and self-deprecation of herself afterwards. I wondered how she maintained her lifestyle of drugs and promiscous sex yet still kept her job and her grades up? Also, one thing i don't think was very clear was the guy, he's a very charming dude and then there's this other side to him, a rapist, a cheat, a loser, but what are the qualities of this guy that turned him into a such a violent atrocity during the rape scene and then a kind of dumb slackoff in the next scene, his ego is the big factor but I thought it was poor characterization. Overall, can't say i would recommend this to anyone else, even being a fan of Rosario, i wasn't too enthralled with her performance, i know it's supposed to be uncomfortable, but it's even more so than that: i wasn't really attached to anyone in the film at all, i think more dialogue or character scenes for her would have helped the viewer grow more attached to her as a person instead of just scene after scene of her degrading behavior and her thinking back on it during work. so that's my 2 cents, what did you think?
Brian:
i can see a lot of what you're saying and where you are coming from.. - i think, ultimately, it is a flawed film.. - its basically told in three acts: introduction/rape, her venture into the realm of sexual violence/drugs, and lastly, her revenge.. - i think you covered a lot of the ground in regards to what the film does poorly.. - you mentioned perhaps having more character-related scenes, although, after watching the two deleted scenes, i actually liked her character less.. - they definitely deserved to be on the cutting room floor.. - i felt the second act was the hardest to find good in.. - in terms of story, i wasn't entirely clear on her objectives/motivations, and in terms of filmmaking.. it felt hurried and i got emotionally detached in it.. - the stuff at the clothing store all felt superficial and not particularly well laid out..
things i liked.. - at first, there were moments, even alone in my apartment that i felt awkward watching.. - but, after a day or two, i could reflect and there were some things i did enjoy.. - the scene where she's in the bathroom looking in the mirror.. imitating Adrian.. trying to give herself that false self-confidence.. understanding the ramifications of power/control.. - i also felt, while the third act is the hardest to watch (at times) it also has in my opinion the most rewarding pieces of cinema.. - the best part (for me) of the film is when Jared goes to meet her.. - the facade of toughness tarnishes as vulnerability begins to seep through.. his faking non-embarrassment as he stands naked.. stark.. unsure.. - i especially liked when Maya called him out on lying about his braggadocios football tales.. - she says, "you didn't score a touchdown" and that small moment where internally he realizes he's been had but outwardly he stumbles just a bit but replies attempting assuredness "I did"..
Jared, overall, i felt was the most interesting character.. - his narcissism masking his weakness.. - walks through the hallway chewing sunflower seeds confidently, but we see in the locker room after football practice, a tubby, out of shape guy easily manhandles him a la a little brother.. - the things he was saying why he raped her.. - in terms of psychology, i was fascinated by the words chosen and their roots.. - what had happened to him before college to turn him into such a monster?
you're right, this wasn't Rosario's best, her moments of candidness and reserved superiority at the party where some of her better character moments.. - when she turned to the dark side, so to speak, i found her character less and less relatable/understandable.. - watching the special features, its clear she felt strongly and passionately about the project, going so far as stepping up to produce it herself to ensure it getting made.. - my overall thoughts on the film are tiptoeing on the line.. i couldn't give it a full-fledged recommendation.. there's too much they didn't get right.. which is a shame as it had great potential as a bold piece..
Jessie:
oh that's interesting, i wasn't able to watch the deleted scenes so i wasn't aware of that part.
okay i shouldn't be all negative, interesting things for me were her as a teacher's assistant and being a test proctor, it was the only glimpse into the shiver of life she seemingly left behind, as we see her graduate with indifference, yet she still retains that connection but maybe that was part of the setup to luring him in, although how would she know he would cheat? I also liked the locker room tussle part, but i wasn't too sure how it played out, like were those two friends, but he did seem embarrassed by the action. Also liked the long walking shot of him, which plays into him being alone with himself, his thoughts and actions. You can see that he is a loner, no friends are around, his complete attention is given to Rosario, no other women in his life, no one talking to him at the party, and afterwards, he's on the football team but apparently not very good, as you mentioned, she follows the team and outs him, which he tries to hide. They are some interesting factors that play into his character now that I look at it more deeply, think you may be onto something.
My problem with her role is that you wondered, was this really her all along? was this who she wanted to be/or was, like when she's having intercourse with two diff. people, she is happy, seemingly, and even pleased thinking of it, even in her gregarious junkie looking state (which i'm surprised an uppity clothing place like that hired her, as she mostly looks like the walking dead) but I guess the film didn't have the same effect on me, as I haven't really been thinking about it, or what it was trying to say. There is a usually a role reversal scene like near what happens at the end of the film in other pieces like this and almost always the heroine comes out of it with her revenge, but never really going back to their old life, which I wish we could have seen a least a moment afterwards as to what happens now. Thought the DJ was interesting, i mean, did he and Rosario sleep together in some scenes, thought i saw them in the club together, or was he just homosexual and if so, does that mean he would willingly rape another man, shouldn't there be more to it than that? It was a hard film to watch but ultimately I think what leaves me feeling void from it is my lack of connection to her and what had become of her after it, despite the terrible tragedy of the event.
Brian:
i think Adrian was bi-sexual.. - i recall a scene in the club where Maya glimpses him standing with his hand on a girl's head while she's blowing him.. - i think, overall, in closing, we can agree that at its best there are some rare moments of interest and character development.. - but overall its a flawed film with some major holes.. namely in the depiction (and lack thereof) of Maya.. - as you asked, more or less, what happens next? - for Maya? for Jared? for us? the last one isn't so hard to answer.. we walk away from the film feeling moderately disturbed and left with more questions instead of growth or gained knowledge..
Monday, January 11, 2010
Collected Thoughts #1
With my final semester of college beginning, starting a job this week, buying and moving into my first house, and a first kid on the way, not to mention my several other Internet projects, I realize now that I can't continue writing full-fledged pieces on everything I watch. I will, however, try to do these capsule reviews every week or two on what I've watched since my last writing and my thoughts.
Pride and Gloryy (2008) was sterile and cold. The corrupt cop story has been done many times. The score was intrusive and manipulative. Edward Norton and Colin Farrell played close to their respective strengths, but neither hit any notes we haven't seen previously and done better.
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (2009) was enjoyable from the standpoint of someone who has loosely followed the franchise (through film adaptations only). It was noticeably darker, both visually and in terms of content. No real strokes of genius, but fairly strong character acting from series lynchpins like Alan Rickman and Michael Gambon helps. Sets up to the inevitable finale quite abruptly.
Inland Empire (2006) is a nearly three-hour journey through the nightmarish, bizarre mind of filmmaker David Lynch. Deals with the perception of reality, frightening forewarnings, prostitutes revealing their bare breasts, spousal abuse, murder, hypnosis, jealousy, adultery, and -- well, the list could go on and on. Lynch is certainly not for everybody. Amid disturbing imagery and the film's undeniable mysteriousness, Laura Dern gives a fantastic performance and anchors the film admirably, arguably its saving grace from devolving to a completely muddled misstep. Shot on digital video it has a certain grainy aesthetic that I liked. Despite its inherent weirdness, I did find myself fascinated by it, and it takes up residence in your mind long after it ends.
Morvern Callar (2002) is a quiet character study of a girl (Morvern Callar played by Samantha Morton) in the days following her boyfriend's unexpected suicide. We basically fill the role of voyeurs, watching on as Morvern picks up the pieces of her life, working at a supermarket, opening her Christmas presents, and chopping up her decaying lover's corpse in the bathtub. Callar erases her boyfriend's name from his manuscript and submits it as her own work. We don't know why Callar is as she is, unfortunately, we're only privy to the present as she pushes forward past grief and loss. It's a film that feels unresolved in some ways, but while it didn't appeal to me on some levels, Morton's performance is captivating, even with very little dialogue, and for it alone the film is worth a serious look.
Pride and Gloryy (2008) was sterile and cold. The corrupt cop story has been done many times. The score was intrusive and manipulative. Edward Norton and Colin Farrell played close to their respective strengths, but neither hit any notes we haven't seen previously and done better.
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (2009) was enjoyable from the standpoint of someone who has loosely followed the franchise (through film adaptations only). It was noticeably darker, both visually and in terms of content. No real strokes of genius, but fairly strong character acting from series lynchpins like Alan Rickman and Michael Gambon helps. Sets up to the inevitable finale quite abruptly.
Inland Empire (2006) is a nearly three-hour journey through the nightmarish, bizarre mind of filmmaker David Lynch. Deals with the perception of reality, frightening forewarnings, prostitutes revealing their bare breasts, spousal abuse, murder, hypnosis, jealousy, adultery, and -- well, the list could go on and on. Lynch is certainly not for everybody. Amid disturbing imagery and the film's undeniable mysteriousness, Laura Dern gives a fantastic performance and anchors the film admirably, arguably its saving grace from devolving to a completely muddled misstep. Shot on digital video it has a certain grainy aesthetic that I liked. Despite its inherent weirdness, I did find myself fascinated by it, and it takes up residence in your mind long after it ends.
Morvern Callar (2002) is a quiet character study of a girl (Morvern Callar played by Samantha Morton) in the days following her boyfriend's unexpected suicide. We basically fill the role of voyeurs, watching on as Morvern picks up the pieces of her life, working at a supermarket, opening her Christmas presents, and chopping up her decaying lover's corpse in the bathtub. Callar erases her boyfriend's name from his manuscript and submits it as her own work. We don't know why Callar is as she is, unfortunately, we're only privy to the present as she pushes forward past grief and loss. It's a film that feels unresolved in some ways, but while it didn't appeal to me on some levels, Morton's performance is captivating, even with very little dialogue, and for it alone the film is worth a serious look.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Once (2006)
A really terrific, tender, beautiful film. A lot of its 85 minutes of running time consists of music, be it playing it in the streets, recording it, talking about, etc. This had me somewhat apprehensive beforehand but I can safely say my concerns were unwarranted. I wouldn't call it a musical, people don't break out into song randomly, etc. All the music is inherently tied to the storytelling.
In short, the plot is about a guy (the two lead characters are unnamed, credited as simply "Guy" and "Girl") in Dublin who works in his father's vacuum cleaner repair shop. When not at work he's working on his true love music. He plays in the streets and that's where he meets the "girl". They bond over music, as well as the shared experience of past loves gone awry. The story takes place within the confines of a week, wherein she helps him record a demo he'll be taking with him to London.
I don't want to explore the story in any more depth, I feel it'd be a disservice to this brilliant film. I do want to mention my three favorite scenes. First, when Guy plays his demo for his father for the first time. There's this pause while he's waiting for his dad's reaction. Will he like it? Will he think he's a fool and wasting his time? Secondly, during an all-night recording session, Guy and his ragtag band of other street performers and Girl fight off sleep. Even though everyone is thoroughly beat, they press forward, not allowing the night to end, taking a break from the confines of the studio to toss frisbee on the beach while the sun comes out. It reminded me of times I spent with friends, during that stretch right after high school, where nobody knew for sure where we'd be in the future but in the interim we were all about making the most out of every moment right then. Lastly, my favorite moment, was the first time Guy and Girl play music together in a downtown music shop. Its such an astoundingly beautiful scene. Really, truly, one of the better moments captured in film in the decade of the 2000's. They play Guy's original song "Falling Slowly". It's worth seeing the film for this scene alone.
Glen Hansard plays Guy and does a terrific job. His real life career is a musician, and he's clearly gifted in that regard, but he also was able to bring to the role a boyish enthusiasm and optimism that made the character so likable. Markéta Irglová plays Girl and is also fabulous. Remarkably, she was only seventeen at the time the movie was made. Her character has a practicality about her, fighting off youthful idealism, showing a sense she is much wiser beyond her years. This is one of the best films released in 2006.
In short, the plot is about a guy (the two lead characters are unnamed, credited as simply "Guy" and "Girl") in Dublin who works in his father's vacuum cleaner repair shop. When not at work he's working on his true love music. He plays in the streets and that's where he meets the "girl". They bond over music, as well as the shared experience of past loves gone awry. The story takes place within the confines of a week, wherein she helps him record a demo he'll be taking with him to London.
I don't want to explore the story in any more depth, I feel it'd be a disservice to this brilliant film. I do want to mention my three favorite scenes. First, when Guy plays his demo for his father for the first time. There's this pause while he's waiting for his dad's reaction. Will he like it? Will he think he's a fool and wasting his time? Secondly, during an all-night recording session, Guy and his ragtag band of other street performers and Girl fight off sleep. Even though everyone is thoroughly beat, they press forward, not allowing the night to end, taking a break from the confines of the studio to toss frisbee on the beach while the sun comes out. It reminded me of times I spent with friends, during that stretch right after high school, where nobody knew for sure where we'd be in the future but in the interim we were all about making the most out of every moment right then. Lastly, my favorite moment, was the first time Guy and Girl play music together in a downtown music shop. Its such an astoundingly beautiful scene. Really, truly, one of the better moments captured in film in the decade of the 2000's. They play Guy's original song "Falling Slowly". It's worth seeing the film for this scene alone.
Glen Hansard plays Guy and does a terrific job. His real life career is a musician, and he's clearly gifted in that regard, but he also was able to bring to the role a boyish enthusiasm and optimism that made the character so likable. Markéta Irglová plays Girl and is also fabulous. Remarkably, she was only seventeen at the time the movie was made. Her character has a practicality about her, fighting off youthful idealism, showing a sense she is much wiser beyond her years. This is one of the best films released in 2006.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
The Jerk (1979)
I'd never seen this movie but have saw it sitting on video store shelves for nearly two decades now. I mistakenly thought the premise was that Martin was some sort of jerk, maybe an egoist, loudmouth, etc. In fact, that's not (quite) the case, Martin plays essentially the most gullible, naive man I've seen in cinema. From the first scene I knew I was in for something different, as Navin R. Johnson (Martin), now a bum living on the street, began retelling his story stating, "It was never easy for me. I was born a poor black child." For those that don't get the inherent humor, or have never seen Steve Martin, he's about as white as rice.
They don't make comedies like this anymore. Nowadays, they'd (most likely) toss Seth Rogan or someone into the lead role, add in some contemporary music to boost soundtrack sales, boost up the foul language and toilet humor, etc. But here, they allow the film to rely on Martin and his immense comedic strengths. His timing is suburb. From the moment he hitchhikes away from his Mississippi home, everywhere he lands, from working as a gas station attendant, to traveling with a carnival, losing his virginity in a trailer to a punk rock stunt woman, we are kept interested and laughing by Martin's portrayal of lovable loser Navin.
It doesn't have the emotional heft of Martin comedic gem Planes, Trains & Automobiles, which I recently watched and wrote about, but does offer a hefty dose of quality laughs and moments. Navin's first love Marie (Bernadette Peters in a fantastically understated and cute performance) helps anchor the second-half of the film. As stated before, the film doesn't offer much in the way of an emotional punch, but there is one scene I found quite beautiful, as Navin (playing the ukulele) and Marie walk along the beach at night singing "Tonight You Belong to Me", ending sweetly with Marie doing a cornet solo.
They don't make comedies like this anymore. Nowadays, they'd (most likely) toss Seth Rogan or someone into the lead role, add in some contemporary music to boost soundtrack sales, boost up the foul language and toilet humor, etc. But here, they allow the film to rely on Martin and his immense comedic strengths. His timing is suburb. From the moment he hitchhikes away from his Mississippi home, everywhere he lands, from working as a gas station attendant, to traveling with a carnival, losing his virginity in a trailer to a punk rock stunt woman, we are kept interested and laughing by Martin's portrayal of lovable loser Navin.
It doesn't have the emotional heft of Martin comedic gem Planes, Trains & Automobiles, which I recently watched and wrote about, but does offer a hefty dose of quality laughs and moments. Navin's first love Marie (Bernadette Peters in a fantastically understated and cute performance) helps anchor the second-half of the film. As stated before, the film doesn't offer much in the way of an emotional punch, but there is one scene I found quite beautiful, as Navin (playing the ukulele) and Marie walk along the beach at night singing "Tonight You Belong to Me", ending sweetly with Marie doing a cornet solo.
Angels & Demons (2009)
It doesn't get as muddled in the details as its predecessor The Da Vinci Code, but the end results are still pretty uneven. One thing I noticed fairly early and irked me is that the characters are constantly talking "at" each other and not "to" each other. To clarify, it never feels as if anyone is having a genuine conversation. Everything spoken (typically shouted) is constantly driving the plot forward endlessly, there's never moments of pause or reflection. I can understand that Robert Langdon (Tom Hanks) is a Harvard professor, and thus, understandably quite brilliant. How come everyone else is so smart? One of his partners, running around Rome from one plot device to the next, is Vittoria Vetra (Ayelet Zurer). Vetra is a scientist, yet, somehow without clear explanation during the proceedings she appears as nearly Langdon's equal in his own field (symbols), helping him translate Latin, extrapolate on theological riddles, etc. Even it seems the local security force doubles as art historians, driving from one sculpture to the next as if adrenaline junkie taxi drivers.
Once the ball gets rolling on the suspense portion of the film, it is fairly entertaining and compelling save you don't get bogged down in all religious drudgery. Its never riveting but fairly innocuous entertainment.
Once the ball gets rolling on the suspense portion of the film, it is fairly entertaining and compelling save you don't get bogged down in all religious drudgery. Its never riveting but fairly innocuous entertainment.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
My Summer of Love (2004)
Am emotionally exhausting film about despair. I'm quite sure despair is not the right word, although hope is in short order, and melancholy permeates throughout. It never hits a false note yet is tirelessly discordant. It's about two girls and their summer together, one full of love, lust, deceit, and ultimately disappointment. Mona (Natalie Press) is a girl with no family outside of her "born again" brother. The only other man in her life is an adulterous cretin who has no ambitions for them beyond his own selfish design. Then along comes Tamsin (Emily Blunt in a terrific performance), fresh from boarding school, a dangerously smart, cavalier soul who befriends Mona. But what are Tamsin's intentions? Is she just bored and lonely?
The girls are quite different. Mona is all "what you see is what you get" with her sharp tongue and homeyness. Tamsin is very pretty, but prattles off about Nietzsche, using her intelligence as a defense mechanism to disguise her own woes. Their first kiss, in a creek, is awkward, later, naked together in the emptiness of Mona's summer home, their affection is more natural. But, this isn't a love story, not by the numbers. It's much more than that. And, as the third act draws nearer to its close, its almost difficult to watch as revelations are made, composure is crushed, and even faith itself is questioned. The Yorkshire countryside makes for a beautiful backdrop for a story that itself isn't so glamourous.
The girls are quite different. Mona is all "what you see is what you get" with her sharp tongue and homeyness. Tamsin is very pretty, but prattles off about Nietzsche, using her intelligence as a defense mechanism to disguise her own woes. Their first kiss, in a creek, is awkward, later, naked together in the emptiness of Mona's summer home, their affection is more natural. But, this isn't a love story, not by the numbers. It's much more than that. And, as the third act draws nearer to its close, its almost difficult to watch as revelations are made, composure is crushed, and even faith itself is questioned. The Yorkshire countryside makes for a beautiful backdrop for a story that itself isn't so glamourous.
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