31 May 2008

Footpath to heaven

Men with Guns

(1997)

This is one of those DVDs I bought when I was buying anything I could get really cheap that I remembered liking, but this is the first time I've seen the film since it was new, more than a decade ago, so it was nearly new to me again, and oh, my--it proves to be one of my favorite Sayles films, which is tall cotton.

Dr. Fuentes, recently widowed and not far from death himself--and uncomfortably comfortable with a government that helps pay his salary and is, so far as he knows, only rumored to be oppressive in its pursuit of the rebels in this unnamed Latin American country--sets out to find the young doctors he trained to treat the indigenous people in remote areas, but ends up searching for the perhaps mythical village of Cerca del Cielo (which, I believe, translates roughly to "next door to heaven"--or you could just call it Oz). We get 100% of Sayles's humanity with only about 5% of his sometimes sticky earnestness.

Fuentes, incidentally, is played by the Mexican actor Federico Luppi, who is also a favorite of Guillermo del Toro's, starring in Cronos and El espinazo del diablo and also appearing in El laberinto del fauno.

And they lived colorfully ever after

The Fall

Crit (2006)
OK, here's the deal: when someone uses the adjective poetic, it's always meant as a compliment, right? But poetry's not just Shakespeare and Emily Dickinson. Poetry's also Colley Cibber and Rod McKuen and Burma Shave signs, right? The Fall is undeniably poetic; it's not undeniably good. One blurb I saw on rottentomatoes.com said something like "a feast for the eyes, famine for the brain," and I can't do much better than that.

The one interesting element has to do with narrative--not the story-within-a-story per se, which is pretty banal and clichéd (though nice to look at, it must be admitted), but the notion, familiar to all fiction writers, I suspect, of the tyranny of the narrative, the fact that the story assumes a momentum of its own and will go where it will go, regardless of the wishes of the storyteller or the audience. Hey, I didn't say it was a brilliant element, just that it was about the only thing to think about.

Catinca Untaru, nine years old when the film was made and an acting novice and natural, also contributes to making the film worth watching.
Trailers
Nothing new, but I feel compelled to report that, in contrast to my usual increasing impatience with trailers the 50th or 100th time I have to see 'em, the Mamma Mia trailer is growing on me; I may be up to a 3 on the film now.

30 May 2008

Mr. Smith goes to divorce court

The Awful Truth

(1937)

Uneven and unsubtle, but the exchange between Dunne and Grant to negotiate the difference between adjoining rooms and a cozy double bed--and also to negotiate the terms of their remarriage--is worth the price of admission. Rental. Box set purchase. Whatever.

26 May 2008

Eyrie

I Walked with a Zombie

(1943)

Like the first Val Lewton-Jacques Tourneur collaboration, Cat People, this moody pic explores the intersection of psychiatry and the supernatural, but unlike the earlier film, this one never comes down solidly on either side. Also as in Cat People, a safe, sane female alternative is available for the (rather lame) male lead. In this case, the safe alternative's role as nurse to the permanently damaged wife--and her noble self-restraint in the face of love--lends a vague Brontean air to the proceedings.

25 May 2008

Oslo sprach Zarathustra

Memorial Day weekend M4

Reprise

Sun (2006)
Art and its relationship to madness, love, friendship (including arrested-developmental male bonding), and Being Norwegian.

I don't know anything about the conditional mood in Norwegian (or about anything in Norwegian), but if the subtitles are accurate, the conditional is used to brilliant narrative effect: at the start and at the end, and once or twice in between, we are told what "would" happen to the dual protagonists, aspiring young novelists and best friend who drop their manuscripts into a mailbox together.

The opening "would" narrative is clearly an initially optimistic shared fiction of the two that turns nightmarish--though reality (whatever that is), when we return to it, is almost as nightmarish. But the exercise creates the hint of alternate realities, alternate narratives, and brings the whole notion of narrative and creation (and manipulation?) to the fore. Moreover, it calls into question the conclusion, also told in the conditional.

It's the film Charlie Kaufman would do if he were Scandinavian--high praise from me. One sad note: the signature song by the boys' favorite punk band, Kommune, doesn't show up in a Web search, either in video or audio, so you're just going to have to see the film to hear "Fingerfucked by the Prime Minister." (Speaking of sad news or at least disturbing prospects, see the Times Cannes story last week that mentioned the difficulties Kaufman's Synecdoche, New York, is having finding a U.S. distributor--Soderbergh's Che films, too, The Argentine and Guerrilla.)

Up the Yangtze

Quad
A nonfiction companion piece to Still Life, beautiful and sad and elegiac, about two young people working in hell, aka a river cruise ship full of rich white tourists. The two are from different classes in China's classless society, one essentially sold into cooliehood by her poor family, the other, one guesses, handed over by his middle-class parents for some toughening up for his capitalist future.

But it's really about ways of life, pretended ones (equality, the happy sacrifice by the few for the many, the promise of progress) and real ones (the rapacious relentlessness of that progress, as represented by the Three Gorges Dam's displacement into economic and existential limbo of millions of Yangtze lives).

Constantine's Sword

Quad
James Carroll was raised an Illinois Catholic, like me--but really more like my brother, who, like Carroll, was born during World War II and heard a calling to the priesthood. My brother decided after a year in the seminary that he'd heard wrong, but Carroll stayed the course through ordination and five years of service, 1969-74; it was Vietnam, for the most part, that drove Carroll away from the cloth, but he remains a devout believer in a god he has come to know much better than the church ever made possible.

This remarkable film, based on Carroll's book by the same title, primarily traces the Catholic Church's complicity (well, leadership in some cases) throughout the centuries in anti-Semitism and specifically in the Holocaust, but it goes beyond that to examine Christianity's role in warmaking and ethnic hatred from before the Crusades through the recent scandal over proselytizing at the Air Force Academy. One angrymaking film.

Mister Lonely

IFC
Ah, if Harmony Korine didn't exist, we'd have to invent him. I desperately wanted to love this film--set mostly in an island commune populated by impersonators of famous people from Abraham Lincoln to the Three Stooges--and for a long time its sweetness and naïveté and innocence carried me along even as my pesky mind kept raising annoying questions (like "How come Michael Jackson dances like Michael Jackson and Charlie Chaplin does some Chaplinesque slapstick, but the impersonation by arguably the best actor in the film, Samantha Morton, of Marilyn Monroe is limited to a blond wig, big boobs, and the Seven Year Itch dress getting blown up occasionally to show her '50s undies, without any mannerisms or vocal characterization?").

But the movie ultimately is like one of those fascinating people you meet at a party who just keeps talking and talking and talking until fascinating evolves into annoying and annoying evolves into get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here. OK, that's excessive; I do recommend it, but you have my permission to leave after the lovely ensemble dance to "Cheek to Cheek."
Trailers
  • Already have Recount in my Netflix futures queue, but this is the first taste I've had of it onscreen. Thanks, HBO; some of us just can't get enough agony.
  • Quid Pro Quo--looks creepy; I remain a 3.
  • Trumbo--Solid 4, tending toward 5ishness.
  • La terza madre (Mother of tears)--Looks very DaVinci Code; 2.
  • Finding Amanda--I'll stand by my 3.
  • The Go-Getter--Looks potentially fun--and did I know Steve Coogan's in it? Solid 4.
  • Take Out--Looks devastating, hard to watch; 3 toward 4.
  • Une vieille maîtresse (The last mistress)--If I didn't know that it's Catherine Breillat, I might be a soft 4 from the trailer; as it is, I'll upgrade my 2 to 3.
  • My Winnipeg--5, duh. Why weren't more people laughing uproariously at the trailer? Which I saw, incidentally, at IFC, which suggests a shift in the local platform for Maddin. Opening date is a bit awkward, 13 June; it needs to still be around for a 4th week when I M next.
  • Savage Grace--I'm wrong about ever having seen the trailer, and even w/ Julianne, I can't go higher than 3.
  • Operation Filmmaker--Potential, but I'm sticking at 3 for now.

24 May 2008

Bigger boat

Jaws

(1975)

Yeah, I know: the animatronic shark is comically primitive compared with what could be done now via CGI--but sharks are primitive, and say what you will about Mr. Spielberg's first blockbuster, it shows more evidence of narrative and gut-grabbing know-how than his most recent effort.

Action!

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

Crit

Zzzzzzzzzzzz . . . huh?! What?!? Oh, right, thrill-a-minute action movie, yeah, got it. All the ingredients, but somebody must've walked heavy in the kitchen, and the cake fell. Flat.

A few giggles, mostly at familiar elements from the first one (like when storage crates in a warehouse are damaged in a Jeep chase [a vehicular chase in a warehouse? yes] and one busted open crate reveals--to us, but to none of the characters in the film--a gleaming corner of the Ark of the Covenant; or when Karen Allen's Marion delivers her first line to Indy, matching exactly, I believe, the line and intonation of her first line to him in Raiders), but mostly rote efforts (oh, they try, they try) at fun fun fun.

Two things we learn about acting limitations:

  1. Cate Blanchett does in fact have one: she can't hold onto a Russian accent for an entire sentence. I think she's trying to channel Garbo's orthodox Party animal in Ninotchka, but Garbo had the advantage of having been a Russian a couple of times before (not counting the silent version of Anna Karenina)
  2. Shia LaBeouf also has one: an inability to act.

Son of Rambow

Crit

OK, you know how I feel about religion in general; but a religion that forbids nonsacred music and . . . movies? What kind of stick-up-his-ass Jesus do you people envision?

So we have a young boy escaping from christofascism through secret massage of all his senses. The early scenes, before William meets bad boy Lee Carter are some of the most moving I've seen, as he turns the corners of his notebook into flipbook animation, or relishes the sounds of a water cooler or a pinecone dragged across a radiator.

Nothing's as good as that the rest of the way, but nothing's as good as that in majority of films I've ever seen. The boys' conspiracy to make a sequel to the one film William has seen is mostly pitch perfect, until things go all soggy and sentimental and predictable in the final reel. And a bonus: not only a Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers song, but an instrumental ("Egyptian Reggae") that you don't get to recognize by Jonathan's voice but actually have to know his oeuvre and thus get to feel really superior to the rest of the audience (except that I think I may have been the entire audience).

Trailers