Monday, August 30, 2010
PIRANHA 3-D Doesn't Bite Hard Enough
Piranha 3-D certainly has a sharp sense of humor, but the exploitation elements are blatantly overwhelming and preposterous at times. Sure, the film knows what it is and doesn’t try to be more than the fun, B-like horror film it wants to be, but it has a difficult time mixing the comedic and horror elements.
Overall, Piranha spends more time exploiting the stars, exploiting big-breasted women, exploiting the college-party lifestyle, exploiting the over-the-top gore, exploiting CGI (Computer Graphics), and don't forget, cashing-in on the ridiculous 3-D gimmick. Instead of inverting these concepts into a clever goodtime, the content remains utterly EXPLOITIVE, no more and no less, rather than standing as a cool homage to the original, and B-horror cinema in general.
The fact that this film doesn’t use stop-motion or complex make-up effect takes the charm away from the B-horror effect. Roger Corman produced the first Piranha (1978) to cash-in on the whole Jaws-rave of the mid-to-late seventies. In addition, the original Piranha had a witty script written by the independent maverick, John Sayles, and at times, was truly frightening. This new Piranha is all-around silly.
Some of my favorite B-horror films were made by writer-director Frank Henenlotter, a genius at combining horror with comedy, along with some very inventive stop-motion effects. He wrote and directed such cult, B-horror classics as Basket Case (1982), Brain Damage (1987), and Frankenhooker (1990). These films came out before the CGI craze, and are a good reminder as to why CGI ruins the charm of stop-motion or make-up effects. When the audience sees that a certain effect is created by a computer, it’s really hard to ponder the gory creation, or how inventive the director had to be in order to create an in-camera effect. I think there are some instances where CGI is absolutely necessary, but today, I think special effects artist depend too much on it. Sometimes, CGI can really take me out of the realm of the cinematic experience, and the illusion is completely ruined.
Most importantly, Piranha 3-D is not an original creation; it’s your run-of-the-mill remake. Question: How many remakes do the studios manufacture every year? Answer: So many, I just stopped counting.
** (out of four stars)
JEAN-MICHEL BASQUIAT: THE RADIANT CHILD is Captivating
Basquiat’s artwork transcended the culture of the streets, circa 1980. He started out as a graffiti artist and rapidly become one of the world’s coolest underground painters. The interview footage, if you’ve never seen clips of Jean-Michel Basquiat, puts the viewer into the perspective of his artwork, and conveys how is ideas were partly influenced from past artists, partly his immediate emotions, and wholly groundbreaking. He became known for crossing out words on the canvas, which indirectly strengthened the meaning of his avant-guard, street poetry. Basquiat was an innovative painter who was ahead of his time. His drive was about being totally original; that is, the very best, when it came to originality.
As far as a documentary, Jean-Michel Basquiat: the Radiant Child, works well. As soon as the director presents the eventful rise and fame of the subject, the film takes a righteous step back to discuss Basquiat’s background and influences. In addition, documentaries about a single subject should never depict a person’s life in chronological order; it becomes more like a Barbara Walter’s special, and we don’t want that. I think the audiences's predilection for this film will depend on their fascination for the subject at hand; the chaotic life of an artist, the rise and fall of a famed celebrity. I absolutely adore these stories. They usually start and finish the same, but sometimes, events take the turn for the worse, and the icon dies at a very young age. Jean-Michel Basquiat was only 27 when he died of a hot-heroin overdose. Fame, fortune, and loneliness drove his drug addiction to an unbearable end. When you hear these stories, sometimes these celebrities make it, and sometimes, they never get to live long enough to tell it themselves. Always pray for their recovery. Basquiat’s work might have become more famous as a result of his death, but there’s never a price too high for a persons life; not fame, fortune, or history in the making.
I think the strength of documentary filmmaking deals primarily with the subject. If the viewer is drawn to the central figure, then it’s really hard to objectively critique the way a documentary is filmed. Personally, I don’t think The Radiant Child provides strong enough direction, but more importantly, a strong passion for the subject, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and it certainly shows. The Radiant Child lacks the spontaneity and hipness of Exit through the Gift Shop (2010), but any art lover, interested in the short, yet successful life of Basquiat, will certainly enjoy this documentary.
Basquiat was so daring and conceptual with his work, that when he wanted to explore a traumatic event from his childhood, he would literally paint in the manner of a five year-old child . A child; he was far from it. Radiant; he was above and beyond.
***1/2 (out of four stars)
Angelina Jolie Kicks Some Ass in SALT
The protagonist is wrongfully accused for a crime she hasn’t committed yet. This formula is similar to the exciting, futuristic adventure, Minority Report (2002), and similar storylines have dated back since Hitchcock’s classic, North by Northwest (1959); the hero, who’s wrongfully accused, and in Salt’s case, so we think so.
The hero, Evelyn Salt, plays like a cross between Jason Bourne and MacGyver. CIA operatives are always in way over their head, and they are always involved in convoluted plots, which deal with national terrorism. However, this is an action movie cooked very well, and an action hero whose dual intentions keep you guessing until the very end. Salt doesn’t play too long nor too loud, like most recent action films, but has the right amount of ingredients, including terrific stunts, spectacular chase sequences, violence, and plot twists. We’ve seen this type of action movie before, specifically with the Jason Bourne films, but if it works for Matt Damon, then why can’t it work for Angelina Jolie?
Salt is presented as a CIA operative who’s accused of being a mole for an elite, underground Soviet circle. From there, the chase is on, and the audience has to guess-- is Evelyn Salt with us or against us? Well, this is the hero of the film, who’s occupied a plethora of billboards and buses, so I think it’s easy to figure out what kind of character she is, but how she gets there, and why, is a better reason to invest in this character. Sure, the action defies the laws of gravity, and Jolie looks a bit too slender to be kicking so much ass, but let your inhibitions loose and you’ll find that Salt is a rollicking good time.
Salt lacks the brilliant imagination and strong visual style as Spielberg’s Minority Report, but it thrusts the viewer right into the central character’s dilemma with just the right amount of kinetic energy. I really hope that Hollywood doesn’t go overboard with this film and turn it into a multi-million dollar franchise, until Salt becomes a manufacturing machine for a string of tired-old sequels. I think Salt works well on its own and doesn’t need a continuation, unless the story dives into uncharted territories, rather than try to multiply the amount of stunts, chases, and violence.
*** (out of four stars)
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Yale's favorite film of all time is.............
Sometimes, when I have difficulty falling asleep, I’ll think of Bernard Hermann’s jazzy score, and the soothing sound of the saxophone will lay my mind to rest. The surreal images of Travis Bickle’s dark perspective of the gritty streets of New York remain a visual wonder. The opening scene in Taxi Driver (1976) is an extreme close-up of Travis Bickle’s paranoid eyes, eerily glancing back and forth, which intercuts to his vibrant, yet hellish perspective. The image of the taxi cab represents a vessel into Bickle’s disturbed mind; he glides through the steam rising out of the sewers and through the colorful reflections of the streets. The opening images establish the bold color palette of a master painter; shades of red, blue, green, and yellow softly meld into a visual orgy.
Visually and aurally, Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver remains the most daring piece of artistry ever conceived on 35mm film. Every camera movement, edit, sound design, and slow-motion shot is felt, not just seen, through every frame of cinematic brilliance. You can sense the master at his fingertips. Why is Taxi Driver the greatest film ever made? I can watch it over and over again, and I’ll channel on different aspects of the film.
When Scorsese was shooting the film the crew members were baffled as to why he would pan the camera the opposite way of the moving subject. In the scene where De Niro’s character parks his cab and walks out of the garage, the camera does a 180 degree pan the opposite way, and then stops back at the actor as he takes another look at the garage. There’s a specific reason to this simple, yet daring camera movement. Visually, the director is saying, that even though the camera doesn’t follow him within the moving frame, everything is seen through the character’s perspective, going to, and coming away from him. In fact, majority of the film is seen through Travis Bickle’s eyes.
In another scene, Travis is talking on a pay phone to Cybill Shepard’s character, Betsy, the camera tracks across to the empty, adjacent hallway, which is a clever metaphor of expressing Travis’s ultimate loneliness. Lastly, another memorable camera feature is when the director places the actor on a moving dolly as he glides toward the bouncer, inside the bordello. The image gives the viewer an urgent feeling, rushing to the bouncer, which foreshadows their bloody encounter at the same location. Taxi Driver is filled with audacious camera movements, which have influenced an entire generation of maverick directors, including Spike Lee, Paul Thomas Anderson, and Quentin Tarantino.
In the beginning of the film, Scorsese uses a variety of overhead shots, which include the concession items at the porn theater, paperwork cluttered on the desk at the taxicab office, and paperwork scattered on Betsy’s desk at the campaign headquarters. As the film progresses and Travis’s insanity gradually becomes apparent, the director cuts to a series of overhead shots of Travis’s newly acquired guns. The items viewed become more deadly, but ironically, the arrangements are more structured. At the same time, Travis’s body gets in better shape, and his bizarre routines provides him with the structure he thinks he needs. At this point, his delusions become a violent reality.
Robert De Niro’s implosive portrayal as Travis Bickle represents a man’s total alienation from society. We’re never clear as to what he endured in Vietnam, but the audience certainly senses his traumas, by his sketchy behaviors. He can’t sleep nights, obsessed with weapons, and isn’t too keen on acting normal in a society, which, he thinks, is based on clicks, populism, music, movies, and politics. Why isn’t his voice heard? Why is Senator Palentine heard and Travis kept in the dark? Why aren’t porn movies the norm for a date night if they're present all over the city? How are the police doing their job if pimps, drug pushers, and prostitutes still roaming the streets of New York? These inquiries are never heard in De Niro’s sincere voiceover, but are certainly worked in the subtext of his performance.
Many films have tried to emulate this one-of-a-kind character, such as Edward Norton in Down in the Valley (2005), and Sean Penn in The Assassination of Richard Nixon (2004), but none of them are able to provide strong enough direction to make this sordid kind of character believable. You can sense the mental anguish and emotional turmoil Paul Schrader went through when he wrote this personal screenplay. The combustible relationship of script and screen makes Taxi Driver a powerful journey into the heart of a madman.
When Scorsese was shooting the film the crew members were baffled as to why he would pan the camera the opposite way of the moving subject. In the scene where De Niro’s character parks his cab and walks out of the garage, the camera does a 180 degree pan the opposite way, and then stops back at the actor as he takes another look at the garage. There’s a specific reason to this simple, yet daring camera movement. Visually, the director is saying, that even though the camera doesn’t follow him within the moving frame, everything is seen through the character’s perspective, going to, and coming away from him. In fact, majority of the film is seen through Travis Bickle’s eyes.
In another scene, Travis is talking on a pay phone to Cybill Shepard’s character, Betsy, the camera tracks across to the empty, adjacent hallway, which is a clever metaphor of expressing Travis’s ultimate loneliness. Lastly, another memorable camera feature is when the director places the actor on a moving dolly as he glides toward the bouncer, inside the bordello. The image gives the viewer an urgent feeling, rushing to the bouncer, which foreshadows their bloody encounter at the same location. Taxi Driver is filled with audacious camera movements, which have influenced an entire generation of maverick directors, including Spike Lee, Paul Thomas Anderson, and Quentin Tarantino.
In the beginning of the film, Scorsese uses a variety of overhead shots, which include the concession items at the porn theater, paperwork cluttered on the desk at the taxicab office, and paperwork scattered on Betsy’s desk at the campaign headquarters. As the film progresses and Travis’s insanity gradually becomes apparent, the director cuts to a series of overhead shots of Travis’s newly acquired guns. The items viewed become more deadly, but ironically, the arrangements are more structured. At the same time, Travis’s body gets in better shape, and his bizarre routines provides him with the structure he thinks he needs. At this point, his delusions become a violent reality.
Robert De Niro’s implosive portrayal as Travis Bickle represents a man’s total alienation from society. We’re never clear as to what he endured in Vietnam, but the audience certainly senses his traumas, by his sketchy behaviors. He can’t sleep nights, obsessed with weapons, and isn’t too keen on acting normal in a society, which, he thinks, is based on clicks, populism, music, movies, and politics. Why isn’t his voice heard? Why is Senator Palentine heard and Travis kept in the dark? Why aren’t porn movies the norm for a date night if they're present all over the city? How are the police doing their job if pimps, drug pushers, and prostitutes still roaming the streets of New York? These inquiries are never heard in De Niro’s sincere voiceover, but are certainly worked in the subtext of his performance.
Many films have tried to emulate this one-of-a-kind character, such as Edward Norton in Down in the Valley (2005), and Sean Penn in The Assassination of Richard Nixon (2004), but none of them are able to provide strong enough direction to make this sordid kind of character believable. You can sense the mental anguish and emotional turmoil Paul Schrader went through when he wrote this personal screenplay. The combustible relationship of script and screen makes Taxi Driver a powerful journey into the heart of a madman.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
EAT PRAY LOVE.......whatever
Eat Pray Love is about a depressed woman, whose romantic pratfalls lead her to venture off across the Atlantic, hoping to rediscover herself. She leaves her life in New York, and of course, discovers new relationships in Italy, India, and Bali. As the story progresses, the central character, Liz, played by Julia Roberts, finds balance in her life. However, there’s one big problem; there’s no balance in the film, especially the narrative.
Once she leaves her past relationships, she should leave it for good! However, the writers are aware that this is a studio film, and like many studio films, images of her past have to find their way into the last quarter of the film. Why is it that writers feel the need to tie everything together into a nice little bow, even when the protagonist’s journey doesn’t call for it? Answer: A Hollywood studio romance, that’s why.
Eat Pray Love is an expensive travelogue with a glossy Hollywood makeover. Star-power cannot rise above this thinly-layered material. There were many problems with this film. First off, the opening and closing narrative voice-over is the only link to tying the cliché messages the film has to offer. Like many studio romances, it underestimates its audience. The images and character actions should speak for themselves. Show us, don’t tell us.
During the course of Liz’s existential journey, I wanted to enjoy the culture of each and every location and backdrop. However, the filmmakers wish to rush the atmosphere and focus on the star-power. Supporting characters come and go into Liz’s life, and by the very end, everything sloppily ties together, or so the writers think it does.
Audiences must love Julia Roberts. I mean, how can you not? Her uniquely structured face, long, slender body, deep-rooted eyes, and that movie star smile radiate the big screen. I think it’s safe to say that the camera is in love with Julia Roberts, but on that same token, the camera forgets to fall in love with the atmosphere. In the scene where she’s eating her exquisite cuisine in an Italian café it looks as though she’s acting for a commercial on spaghetti. The food, luscious surroundings, and ancient ruins need to be just as critical of a character as Liz.
Another problem I had with the film was the superfluous camerawork. In the scene where Liz munches on her Italian delicacy the camera cuts to a high overhead shot. Why exactly does a camera have to be 10ft up in the air to see Julia Roberts dive into her spaghetti? There are other moments where the director insists on using a crane shot when the action doesn’t call for it. Perhaps most audiences will not observe these tiny details, but for a film critic who’s just as passionate about the technical aspects of filmmaking as the basic narrative, I found these details incredibly obtrusive and detrimental to the entirety of the film.
The performances, mostly by Academy Award winning or nominated actors, are first rate. However, this is a prime example as to how great performances can only work unless they are matched by a great script.
Eat Pray Love is what I call a package film; you’ve got the stars, the bestselling book, a few weeping moments, and the two lovers riding off into the sunset. If you’re look for a thoughtful, romantic film, I’d skip it, but if the package is good enough, then be my guest.
*1/2 (out of four stars)
Duvall and Murray are excellent, but GET LOW stays slow
Get Low is a quiet and tender tale, which tries to be very moving, but it never reaches an adequate emotional level. The film is about a senile old man, marvelously portrayed by Robert Duvall, who wishes to arrange a party for his funeral while he’s still alive. The only funeral parlor in this backwoods town during the depression era is owned by a business-hungry entrepreneur played by Bill Murray. Duvall and Murray try to set up a plan to get the entire town to celebrate this bizarre man’s death.
What is it about Bill Murray and his ability to take a subtle, dramatic performance and still make it very humorous? He’s the master at combining seriousness with deadpan humor, creating an altogether, original spin on every performance he’s confronted with.
Get Low is very bittersweet, but at the same time, too restrained. Despite Duvall’s bravo performance, I felt there wasn’t enough room for the central character to grow. We are presented with this great, cynical character, who eventually finds redemption from his past sins, but I still didn’t see why the entire town should care. Sure, I cared about the character, and so did the supporting players, but why invite an entire town to a funeral party if they seem not to really bother? Why confess to an array of acquaintances if they had little to do with his past sins?
While I was watching the film I couldn’t help but notice how restrained the direction was. Every conversation was pieced together with a simple shot-reverse-shot, and the overall rhythm is dully consistent. I think once Duvall’s character steps out of his shell a bit and we discover more about his back story, the film, in itself, needs to make a subtle shift in tone and rhythm. The cinematography is absolutely gorgeous, and the filmmakers do a great job recreating the depression era, but I felt I needed something more to perceive in accordance to the film’s visual grammar. Please, change up the camera setup, or hold onto the master shot, or get rid of any “safety” cutaways. I understand that the minimal approach to filmmaking keeps the focus on the performances, but personally, I think it should enhance the performances, which it didn’t.
Get Low has moments of heart, humor, and sadness, but it never dares to be anything original, despite the original premise. As a result, I can’t say I cared too much about the protagonist nor wish to ever feel the need to be a part of his death. If you want to enjoy the all-encompassing performances, it’s worth checking out. However, I usually look for more than a dynamite cast.
**1/2 (out of four stars)
Monday, August 9, 2010
The Disappearance of Alice Creed Had Me on Edge
Now, when you kidnap a person you have to be well-equipped; the room must be discreet looking, the walls covered with padding, a comfy bed, handcuffs attached to the bed, a bucket for the victim to do their business in, several cell phones, just in case the call is traced, and lets not forget, a professional attitude. The first twenty minutes of The Disappearance of Alice Creed is about the complex process and hard work in kidnapping a person. It’s kind of like making a movie; the set has to be totally ready, and everyone has to be on their marks before the cameras roll.
If a film theorist or critic ever created a subgenre, specifically for kidnapping, The Disappearance of Alice Creed would fit the criteria, and only that criteria. This is a lean, mean, take-no-punches kidnapping-ransom thriller; all the unnecessary fat is trimmed off. The film’s principal storyline reminded me of Fargo (1996), but Fargo was about more than the kidnapping. Much more! Fargo, one of the best films of the nineties, captured the quirky nature of the Minnesotan attitude, combined with a ferocious dark humor and ingenious character portrayals.
The Disappearance of Alice Creed takes place in England, but this straight-forward story could’ve taken place anytime, anywhere. However, this itty-bitty kidnapping caper is entertaining from beginning to end, even if it only involves three characters. Without giving too much away, I will say this, majority of the film is told from the kidnappers's point of view. We never know for sure if the police are involved or how the ransom is paid. Think of the rendezvous warehouse in Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs (1992). The focus of the film is the dynamics between the kidnappers and the victim, Alice Creed. Unlike Tarantino’s jumpy, yet brilliant narrative structure in Reservoir Dogs, Disappearance doesn’t have any flashbacks or narrative tricks up their sleeves. Like I said, this film is lean and mean, with a few genuine plot twist.
The primary goal is to bring out the terror of the victim, put the audience in her shoes, and believe me; we are with her one hundred percent. Some of the twists and turns are a little unrealistic, but what can I say, this is a movie, and sometimes a movie needs the necessary developments to keep the momentum flowing and the suspense building. Perhaps the entire film could’ve benefited more as a greater subplot for a more ambitious and complex narrative, but for what it was, it had me on the edge of my seat, from beginning to end.
*** (out of for stars)
If a film theorist or critic ever created a subgenre, specifically for kidnapping, The Disappearance of Alice Creed would fit the criteria, and only that criteria. This is a lean, mean, take-no-punches kidnapping-ransom thriller; all the unnecessary fat is trimmed off. The film’s principal storyline reminded me of Fargo (1996), but Fargo was about more than the kidnapping. Much more! Fargo, one of the best films of the nineties, captured the quirky nature of the Minnesotan attitude, combined with a ferocious dark humor and ingenious character portrayals.
The Disappearance of Alice Creed takes place in England, but this straight-forward story could’ve taken place anytime, anywhere. However, this itty-bitty kidnapping caper is entertaining from beginning to end, even if it only involves three characters. Without giving too much away, I will say this, majority of the film is told from the kidnappers's point of view. We never know for sure if the police are involved or how the ransom is paid. Think of the rendezvous warehouse in Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs (1992). The focus of the film is the dynamics between the kidnappers and the victim, Alice Creed. Unlike Tarantino’s jumpy, yet brilliant narrative structure in Reservoir Dogs, Disappearance doesn’t have any flashbacks or narrative tricks up their sleeves. Like I said, this film is lean and mean, with a few genuine plot twist.
The primary goal is to bring out the terror of the victim, put the audience in her shoes, and believe me; we are with her one hundred percent. Some of the twists and turns are a little unrealistic, but what can I say, this is a movie, and sometimes a movie needs the necessary developments to keep the momentum flowing and the suspense building. Perhaps the entire film could’ve benefited more as a greater subplot for a more ambitious and complex narrative, but for what it was, it had me on the edge of my seat, from beginning to end.
*** (out of for stars)
The Hardships of Warfare in RESTREPO
Restrepo is a harrowing journey into the front lines of Afghanistan. This important, yet overlong documentary portrays the fatalistic mission of a handful of American soldiers for one year in a remote location. The film, at its best, shows the significance of photojournalism, and indirectly shows how the news dropped these important observations when composing the latest headlines. We’ll never truly understand what war, in general, is about and why our young men choose to fight if it wasn’t for real and unbiased documentation like this.
Restrepo depicts the fragile lives of the soldiers as it really is; they are young, scared, yet ready to kill if necessary. Restrepo is the name of a combat soldier who was killed at the beginning of the mission in 2006, and since then, their dangerous headquarters has been justly named after the deceased soldier. The filmmakers try to be utterly distant and objective towards the subject at hand, but I’m sure their gut intuition says they were against this attack, and the war in general. Questions and resentments were running through my mind while I was watching this film. Why are they in Afghanistan? What is ultimately accomplished by trying to overthrow the Taliban? How can the U.S. soldiers distinguish the Taliban from the regular citizens of the hillside?
The documentary is composed of five interviews and the real-life footage in Afghanistan. The filmmakers used extreme close-ups of the interviewee’s faces so we can see the tension rise as they describe their haunting tour of duty. As engaging and critical as this film was, I wanted the filmmakers to dive deeper into the reason behind the mission, and how the U.S. government demanded such a long stay in Afghanistan, with little to nil results. In addition, I wanted to know more about the soldiers's background, and understand what they were leaving behind and why. Restrepo’s message is very similar to the fictional, yet realistic The Hurt Locker (2009); it captured the adrenaline of warfare and the bond created between the young men fighting.
When those boys went overseas no one told them they would have to engage in politics with the local natives of Afghanistan. When the platoon needed to take over and persuade the villagers to give up the Taliban, they realized they weren’t trained in that department. If there ever was a point to the mission, it would’ve been to convince the natural citizens they needed the American forces for their protection.
Based on the documentary, I don’t think the people of Afghanistan were convinced at all. Perhaps if Restrepo came out before The Hurt Locker, my initial reaction would’ve been greater than it really was, but it still treads on a powerful immediacy to our nation's understanding of what war is all about. It’s too bad the young Americans were there to kill, because the Afghan countryside is absolutely gorgeous. Based upon the footage, I would love the opportunity to hike up those bountiful green mountains, drink hot tea with the locals, and campout on a starry night. Unfortunately, they were there to endure the bombings, cross-fires, and the man next to them getting shot and killed.
*** (out of four stars)
Restrepo depicts the fragile lives of the soldiers as it really is; they are young, scared, yet ready to kill if necessary. Restrepo is the name of a combat soldier who was killed at the beginning of the mission in 2006, and since then, their dangerous headquarters has been justly named after the deceased soldier. The filmmakers try to be utterly distant and objective towards the subject at hand, but I’m sure their gut intuition says they were against this attack, and the war in general. Questions and resentments were running through my mind while I was watching this film. Why are they in Afghanistan? What is ultimately accomplished by trying to overthrow the Taliban? How can the U.S. soldiers distinguish the Taliban from the regular citizens of the hillside?
The documentary is composed of five interviews and the real-life footage in Afghanistan. The filmmakers used extreme close-ups of the interviewee’s faces so we can see the tension rise as they describe their haunting tour of duty. As engaging and critical as this film was, I wanted the filmmakers to dive deeper into the reason behind the mission, and how the U.S. government demanded such a long stay in Afghanistan, with little to nil results. In addition, I wanted to know more about the soldiers's background, and understand what they were leaving behind and why. Restrepo’s message is very similar to the fictional, yet realistic The Hurt Locker (2009); it captured the adrenaline of warfare and the bond created between the young men fighting.
When those boys went overseas no one told them they would have to engage in politics with the local natives of Afghanistan. When the platoon needed to take over and persuade the villagers to give up the Taliban, they realized they weren’t trained in that department. If there ever was a point to the mission, it would’ve been to convince the natural citizens they needed the American forces for their protection.
Based on the documentary, I don’t think the people of Afghanistan were convinced at all. Perhaps if Restrepo came out before The Hurt Locker, my initial reaction would’ve been greater than it really was, but it still treads on a powerful immediacy to our nation's understanding of what war is all about. It’s too bad the young Americans were there to kill, because the Afghan countryside is absolutely gorgeous. Based upon the footage, I would love the opportunity to hike up those bountiful green mountains, drink hot tea with the locals, and campout on a starry night. Unfortunately, they were there to endure the bombings, cross-fires, and the man next to them getting shot and killed.
*** (out of four stars)
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Yale's favorite scene in film history is.........
At the young age of 14, I had the guilty pleasure of viewing Boogie Nights opening night. In October of 1997, the film was only playing in one theater in Dallas. It was the United Artist Cineplex at Walnut Hill and Central. If you've followed the history of every theater in Dallas, then you'd know that particular theater closed down about a decade ago. Anyways, before I get off on my usual tangent, I'm going to analyze the opening scene in Boogie Nights and see why it remains as the most cinematic experience in film history.
The movie theater was packed and the slow, offbeat-broken-circus score is heard over the opening credits. Suddenly, the loud disco beat of the Emotions, "The Best of My Love," startles the audience and the title, "Boogie Nights," is plastered on the vintage marquee. The camera, which is obviously attached to a steadicam operator, filming on a high crane, tilts down, and we see people coming out of the movie theater. Ironically, for the real audience, the movie is just beginning. This part of the opening, in my opinion, is inspired by Francois Truffaut's Day For Night (1973), which is a wonderful film about the joy of filmmaking. In Truffaut's film, the camera follows a man walking a long distance, and when he is confronted by a woman further down the street, the audience realizes that it's a movie set. I think Paul Thomas Anderson is using this concept, but instead, reverses the situation. It's sort of self-reflexive, meaning, it says that we know we are watching a movie, and that the marquee in the opening image is not related to the crowd coming out of the theater, but the real audience watching the film.
Next, the camera suavely tilts sideways, showing a neon sign on the side of the theater, and then swiftly moves across the street towards the night club. People from the theater are crossing the street and the central characters are being greeted by the club owner as they stride into the club. At this point, the music is slightly lowered and the sound of the voices out in the street are coming to life. In the same shot, right before we follow the characters into the club, the steadicam operator has walked off the crane and enters the interior of the club. The song is now blasting and the vibe is radiating. Next, the steadicam operator follows the club owner to the center of the set, and I swear, I was literally catapulted onto that dance floor! The music, the fluid camerawork, the 70s decor, the set design, all created a moment that was better than when John Travolta struts into Odyssey 2000 in Saturday Night Fever (1977).
The steadicam work was obviously influenced by Martin Scorsese's Goodfellas (1990), when Henry took Karen to the Copacabana. Furthermore, the way Paul Thomas Anderson uses a party or a natural environment to introduce all of the main characters is influenced by Robert Altman's Nashville(1975). The dialogue is natural and everyday; the simplistic nature expresses that all of these characters know one another. The most most brilliant part of this scene is that the director introduces all the main character in one single shot and still maintains this high-octane energy, which never lets go. Paul Thomas Anderson has the best of my love!
New on DVD: Roman Polanski is back in action with THE GHOST WRITER
Have you ever watched Rosemary’s Baby (1968) and merely observed the use of rectangular frames in Rosemary’s apartment? The doorways, wallpaper, sofa cushions, and the mystery behind the closet are all designed to correlate with one another. In addition, Roman Polanski shot a lot of the film in the apartment so the viewer is constantly looking through frames within frames. Are these details accidental? I think not. If you’re a sincere film buff, a fan of Polanski’s work, and have an acute eye for photography, then you’ll easily notice the director’s fondness in portraying the details of an apartment (Rosemary’s Baby, The Tenant, Repulsion), a cabin (Death and the Maiden), a hotel room (Frantic), and of course, the modern house in The Ghost Writer.
Roman Polanski’s films contain similar visual motifs, including encrypted codes that the protagonist must solve, water over corruption, reflections, isolated characters, knives, and secret rooms. All of these elements, and much more, create the master of suspense, next to Alfred Hitchcock. The Ghost Writer is Polanski’s latest film, and at 76, he still knows how to direct. Despite his checkered past, A-list actors are always jumping at the opportunity to work with him. It’s about the work, not the man’s flaws. The Ghost Writer is about a man (Ewan McGregor) who’s hired to write the memoirs of the former British Prime Minister (Pierce Brosnan). The corruption involved between the United States government and the UK government is reminiscent of the city corruption Jake Gittes (Jack Nicholson) was involved in Chinatown (1974). The central characters from both The Ghost Writer and Chinatown are in way over their head.
Another element I loved about this film was the gloomy cinematography. The sun is rarely seen, the clouds are always present, and the photography has an overall grayish-pastel hue. I recall reading an interview with Woody Allen and he said that he always preferred to shoot in New York when it was grey and cloudy, because it was easier to control the lighting and bring out the background in the shot. Perhaps this wasn’t Roman Polanski’s intention, but I must say, the visual overtones in The Ghost Writer were consistent throughout. It’s refreshing to see an intelligent political thriller, which doesn’t depend on extreme violence, loud noises, and senseless montages to grab its viewers.
The film opens up with an abandoned car on a ferry and a man washed up on the sea shore, which goes back to the recurrent Polanski theme of water over corruption. No shot is unnecessary and every shot correlates with the film as a whole. Majority of the action is based on the dialogue and the subtle character interrelationships. Pay careful attention to the details and all will be revealed at a moderate pace.
Do you remember the anagram Mia Farrow solved with the scrabble cubes in Rosemary’s Baby? Do you remember how suspenseful that moment was? Well, there’s a similar scene in The Ghost Writer, and believe me, the revelation is just as suspenseful. Political cover-ups are one of my favorite kinds of mysteries, and what better guide to have than Roman Polanski, a master of suspense.
**** (out of four stars)
Roman Polanski’s films contain similar visual motifs, including encrypted codes that the protagonist must solve, water over corruption, reflections, isolated characters, knives, and secret rooms. All of these elements, and much more, create the master of suspense, next to Alfred Hitchcock. The Ghost Writer is Polanski’s latest film, and at 76, he still knows how to direct. Despite his checkered past, A-list actors are always jumping at the opportunity to work with him. It’s about the work, not the man’s flaws. The Ghost Writer is about a man (Ewan McGregor) who’s hired to write the memoirs of the former British Prime Minister (Pierce Brosnan). The corruption involved between the United States government and the UK government is reminiscent of the city corruption Jake Gittes (Jack Nicholson) was involved in Chinatown (1974). The central characters from both The Ghost Writer and Chinatown are in way over their head.
Another element I loved about this film was the gloomy cinematography. The sun is rarely seen, the clouds are always present, and the photography has an overall grayish-pastel hue. I recall reading an interview with Woody Allen and he said that he always preferred to shoot in New York when it was grey and cloudy, because it was easier to control the lighting and bring out the background in the shot. Perhaps this wasn’t Roman Polanski’s intention, but I must say, the visual overtones in The Ghost Writer were consistent throughout. It’s refreshing to see an intelligent political thriller, which doesn’t depend on extreme violence, loud noises, and senseless montages to grab its viewers.
The film opens up with an abandoned car on a ferry and a man washed up on the sea shore, which goes back to the recurrent Polanski theme of water over corruption. No shot is unnecessary and every shot correlates with the film as a whole. Majority of the action is based on the dialogue and the subtle character interrelationships. Pay careful attention to the details and all will be revealed at a moderate pace.
Do you remember the anagram Mia Farrow solved with the scrabble cubes in Rosemary’s Baby? Do you remember how suspenseful that moment was? Well, there’s a similar scene in The Ghost Writer, and believe me, the revelation is just as suspenseful. Political cover-ups are one of my favorite kinds of mysteries, and what better guide to have than Roman Polanski, a master of suspense.
**** (out of four stars)
Monday, August 2, 2010
Moms are Cool and The Kids Are All Right
The Kids Are All Right is a charming adult comedy about a modern American family rediscovering their anonymous sperm donor, and the dynamic relationship between the lesbian couple, the biological father, and the two teenage children. I mean, who can resist two of America's finest actresses (Julianne Moore and Annette Bening) playing a lesbian couple! The point of the story, I believe, is that even though the matriarchs don't represent the traditional American family, they still have problems and dysfunctions like anyone else. The two kids were conceived by an anonymous donor, and the youngest son decides, like any curious child, to contact his biological father, played by Mark Ruffalo.
The Kids Are All Right doesn't attempt to break any new grounds in character development or filmmaking for that matter, but instead, simply paints a lovely portrait of a non-traditional family on the brink of collapsing. I felt as though some of the sex scenes were a bit off-putting and unnecessary. Don't get me wrong, I'm a big fan of Last Tango in Paris (1972) and the butter-for-lubrication scene, but Bernardo Bertolucci was breaking new grounds in the erotic drama genre. The pain and misery of Bertolucci's main characters were felt during those steamy sex scenes. I also love the sex scene in Boogie Nights (1997) between Mark Wahlberg and Julianne Moore, because it was really about the mechanisms of filmmaking. I admire the sexual nature and the intention to depict sex as what it is; raw and messy. "Movie sex" can be so overdone with all the backlighting, shadows, and unthinkable cutaways. But, when sex is over-the-top for the sake of being over-the-top, it doesn't ring true to me.
The best part of the film is the energy and charisma all three of the leads bring to the table. I can't say The Kids are All Right is a great film, nor did it rub me the wrong way, but it certainly is a well done comedy. The performances are bright, the dialogue is sharp, and the situations had me laugh out loud. I'm very glad to see that this film opened up in more theaters. In the first two weeks of the film's release, it was only showing in two theaters, and you better believe, if you weren't there at least 20 minutes early, it was sold out. Distributors need to give films like this a bigger chance and not underestimate their audience. When I checked the local paper for what's playing at the large multiplex theaters I noticed that Salt was playing on five screens, Dinner with Schmucks on three screens, Despicable Me on three screens, and Inception on three screens. Believe me, there's always room for a charming adult comedy with an offbeat premise.
*** (out of four stars)
The Kids Are All Right doesn't attempt to break any new grounds in character development or filmmaking for that matter, but instead, simply paints a lovely portrait of a non-traditional family on the brink of collapsing. I felt as though some of the sex scenes were a bit off-putting and unnecessary. Don't get me wrong, I'm a big fan of Last Tango in Paris (1972) and the butter-for-lubrication scene, but Bernardo Bertolucci was breaking new grounds in the erotic drama genre. The pain and misery of Bertolucci's main characters were felt during those steamy sex scenes. I also love the sex scene in Boogie Nights (1997) between Mark Wahlberg and Julianne Moore, because it was really about the mechanisms of filmmaking. I admire the sexual nature and the intention to depict sex as what it is; raw and messy. "Movie sex" can be so overdone with all the backlighting, shadows, and unthinkable cutaways. But, when sex is over-the-top for the sake of being over-the-top, it doesn't ring true to me.
The best part of the film is the energy and charisma all three of the leads bring to the table. I can't say The Kids are All Right is a great film, nor did it rub me the wrong way, but it certainly is a well done comedy. The performances are bright, the dialogue is sharp, and the situations had me laugh out loud. I'm very glad to see that this film opened up in more theaters. In the first two weeks of the film's release, it was only showing in two theaters, and you better believe, if you weren't there at least 20 minutes early, it was sold out. Distributors need to give films like this a bigger chance and not underestimate their audience. When I checked the local paper for what's playing at the large multiplex theaters I noticed that Salt was playing on five screens, Dinner with Schmucks on three screens, Despicable Me on three screens, and Inception on three screens. Believe me, there's always room for a charming adult comedy with an offbeat premise.
*** (out of four stars)
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