tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70371498528240461922024-02-20T21:15:35.582-06:00Art and MasturbationSelf-indulgent movie reviews.Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-88897605870731490962010-09-27T22:39:00.004-05:002010-09-28T00:13:10.407-05:00Hands, Shoulders, Knees and Toes, Knees and Toes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://s3.amazonaws.com/data.tumblr.com/tumblr_l9fp3w1JsJ1qbj1azo1_1280.jpg?AWSAccessKeyId=0RYTHV9YYQ4W5Q3HQMG2&Expires=1285734048&Signature=VPatsxGJztrnsdRZitrzzgvkCjU%3D"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 620px; height: 350px;" src="http://s3.amazonaws.com/data.tumblr.com/tumblr_l9fp3w1JsJ1qbj1azo1_1280.jpg?AWSAccessKeyId=0RYTHV9YYQ4W5Q3HQMG2&Expires=1285734048&Signature=VPatsxGJztrnsdRZitrzzgvkCjU%3D" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Well! This sure feels weird. Haven't been in this position in a long, long time. Blogging on my "PB," personal blog, that is. But I am not, thankfully, on my "hands and knees," like, say all of the desperate and lonely and dangerously repressed employees of Sterling-Cooper-Draper-Price, that fictional Manhattan start-up ad agency that occupies the fourth season of AMC's critically-acclaimed adult drama <span style="font-style: italic;">Mad Men.</span><br /><br />But yes, of course, it's an immensely weird position for me to be writing about said people finding themselves in a bitterly familiar position, not in the least because I'm choosing to jump back into the game awkwardly, toward the tail-end of my favorite show's fourth season, and with little in the way of convincing rationale other than "I feel like it," or perhaps, more apropos, "It felt right."<br /><br />This feeling of rightness, however, is very different from the feeling of "Everything's going to be okay," or "Everything's fine," or the the "thumbs up" symbols that are deployed by various characters (ok, specifially, Don, Don, and Roger, respectively -- although of course Betty and Henry motherfucking Francis and Joan get their own variations) in this increasingly tense, harrowing, emotionally riveting eleventh episode, "<a href="http://www.megavideo.com/?d=7JBFA3IO">Hands and Knees</a>."<br /><br />Indeed, whereas I feel geniuenely glad to be writing here again -- motivated to write again about something I've seen up on a screen -- if just a tad unsure about my pacing and footing (more of a general direction thing, itself a familiar feeling), the sad, wounded and greiving souls on Mad Men are only doing what Don did in episode 1, season 1, as my friend <a href="http://johnwilmes.blogspot.com/">Rosy Minded Fuzzball</a> was so quick and correct to point out -- that is, selling themselves a set of commercial taglines of reassurance, soothing acceptance and managability, all of them entirely false, of course, given how eminently FUCKED the firm is at this juncture, thanks to various overlapping conflicts and conflicts-of-interest.<br /><br />But really, the ultimate irony is that, at least for the men of SCDP, the whole goal at this point is to keep the rickety, sinking ship of the firm afloat using whatever frantic, bucket or hand-draining method they've got (although it could of course be argued that Don's ultimate goal is self-preservation, but the firm's basically an intergal part of that, so, I rest my case). It shouldn't and cannot be an easy goal, to be certain, but it shouldn't have ever come to the dire straights that its in right now -- to the point at which basically only a miraculous, highly unlikely Hail Mary by Roger is the last hope.<br /><br />That being said, Lane is all-but checked out as a character. I think that his literal crumpling to his father's will is a sign that family is and will always be the most important thing in his life. As poisionous as it is for his own self-worth and self-respect, its still seems to be better than work, and offers more possibilities for redemption. So maybe I should retract my statement, or at least revise it -- Not all the men at SCDP are ultimately concerned with the firm's survival -- or maybe they are, and Lane doesn't count, since he's such a pushover...<br /><br />Still, it was nice to see the lately-strangely successful and even, dare I say it, <span style="font-style: italic;">noble</span> Pete Campbell back to his slithery old <a href="http://petecampbellsbitchface.tumblr.com/">bitchface</a> ways, especially when dishing about Don on the couch to his pregnant, propping himself as the model of honesty when A) Discussing his fellow partner and former boss's situation in cryptic terms to his wife, but not-so cryptic as to convey the fact that he was digustingly displeased with <span style="font-style: italic;">someone</span> B) for said someone's lack of honesty when in fact C) it was the speaker himself, the entitled little rich bastard Campbell who committed perhaps the ultimate act of dishonest betrayal, and has managed to escape the consequences of his actions entirely only thanks to the patient discrection of his colleague/collaborator/victim, Peggy Olson, the mother of his bastard son. (Although it should certainly be noted that Peggy's discretion was eminently selfish and immoral in its own right, and that in truth, the only truly innocent victim is the little boy that was born of their deliciously sordid union).<br /><br />ALL OF THAT BEING SAID, I think, looking at the clock hands at this hour, that's time to get to the real point of this post, which is a compilation, what we in the biz call a "listicle," of all of the instances this show's title applied to, literal, metaphorical or otherwise. And, this being an episode all about the power (or lack thereof) of the palms to make things happen, of course I'm going to stretch the theme as far as I can. Comment if you want to add more, and I'll be happy to join them to the following list.<br /><br />ALL THE INSTANCES OF CHARACTERS ON THEIR "HANDS AND KNEES" in "HANDS AND KNEES"<br /><br />1. Don literally has his hands on knees when he thinks he's having a heart attack after seeing the two men mulling around outside his apartment. He also presumably is on his hands and knees when puking into the bathroom shortly thereafter.<br /><br />2. Lane Price literally on his hands and knees when his bitterly-old codger of a Father whacks him in the face with his (the father's) cane, drawing blood, then process to crush Lane's knuckles with his toe, all of which finally has the effect of convincing Lane (who had up-until that point been doing well on a personal growth level, not only dating across color lines as we so clearly saw in this episode [although that too seemed to be more of a kinky fetish, in retrospect, than real genuine emotional connection, given how easily he caved and elected to leave his African American girlfriend behind] but also business-wise, occupying a more confident and senior position within the firm) to finally return to England to kowtow and make amends with the assuredly vindictive Mrs. Price.<br /><br />3. Roger begging Lee Garner Jr. first not to close the Lucky Strike account, then to avoid withdrawing it for at least 30 days, to which Lee finally consents.<br /><br />4. Don begging basically everyone (WELL wait, specifically and notably just Pete and the three women who now know his secret [identity]: Betty <del>Draper</del> Francis [like how her surname is finally being buzzed into Don's office?], Faye Miller [his new squeeze], and to far-lesser extent, Megan [his witless secretary]*) to keep it on the D/L while the G-Men are rolling around.<br /><br />5. Believe Pete Campbell made a line to the effect of him chasing North American Aviation hand-over-foot for the past three years when he was arguing with Don about the proposed coverup.<br /><br />6. Pete Campbell lying during the partner's meeting to cover up for Don, telling the partners that he begged North American Aviation to accept his apologies about mixing up the made-up general's name on the documents, but that they were inconsolable.<br /><br />7. Roger yelling at Pete, lambasting him for failing to wait on NAA hand and foot, or, in his colorful language, "giving them a handjob."<br /><br />8. Think that Trudy felt her and Pete's kid turn over, kick with his feet, probably on his hands and needs inside the womb...<br /><br />9. Could read into Joan's conspicuous refusal to get on her hands and knees and pray about her abortion, though she did sort of immediately beg Roger to take care of it. Yet, at the same time, we have no proof that she went through with it, especially following the shamefully awkward encounter with the 32 year old mother of the 17 year old girl getting the abortion in the waiting room of the clinic. Note that that woman had trouble using her hands to get stuff out of her purse and pick up the magazine (flashbacks to Betty, S1, anyone?)<br /><br />10. The bunnies, namely Lane's "Chocolate Bunny," doing the famous serving-dip by bending at the knees.<br /><br />11. Don getting blown in a cab by Bethany, presumably on her hands and knees...oh wait, that was two episodes ago, sorrys.<br /><br />* At this point, most of the women Don has fucked (or, to be fairer, carried on longer-term affairs with) know his secret, or at least that he has one, including Rachel Menken, Betty <del>Draper</del> Francis, Bobby, Faye. Conspicuously, in this season, several know his secret whom he's not fucked, including the dearly-departed Anna ("The Real Mrs.") Draper's niece, Stephanie, and of course, Meghan, on whom the episode closed to the tune of the Beatles "Do You Want to Know a Secret."<br /><br />What this means is anyone's guess. Rosy Minded thinks its zeitgeisty inspiration. At first I thought/feared it was Don eyeing Megan as a liberating, revitalizing fuck, following his close encounter with Uncle Sam, but of course I quickly dismissed that as none-too-subtle. Now, I'm thinking the look that crossed his face was one of renewed concern knowing that (especially after Faye just departed the room with his secret in tow) his secret, or the knowledge that he has something to hide, is getting a bit-too widely disseminated. Ah well, guess we'll find out. Or won't we?Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-9803697779496228132009-12-31T00:09:00.008-06:002009-12-31T16:35:39.918-06:00Dat New NewDear reader,<br /><br />Good evening. How are you? Sentimental, I presume? <a href="http://www.sphere.com/world/article/new-years-around-the-world/19299485">Dec 31st</a>--It's easy for people to get sentimental around this time of year. The traditions of the holiday season encourage as much, be they the earnest appeals of spiritual leaders and loved ones to our better natures or the shameless marketing ploys by engines of commerce (and really, who can reliably <a href="http://www.capmag.com/article.asp?ID=2254">tell the difference</a>, anyway?).<br /><br />On that latter note, I've observed that cynicism is also an especially popular sentiment during such times. I'm sure you've heard your fair <a href="http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20091201114320AAnWC7Z">share</a> of the denigration of Christmas and gift-giving as nothing more than the hollow gestures of affection demanded by a society built on conspicuous consumption. New Year's too, gets a <a href="http://www.guidespot.com/guides/why_new_years_sucks">bum rap</a> sometimes for being ultimately an over-hyped occasion for mass, socially-condoned substance abuse and orgiastic behavior that in the best case, provides only the most fleeting of pleasures.<br /><br />I hear that view and I understand it to a degree, I really do. I hate walking around the mall like a zombie, desperately wracking my brain for any tiny granule of inspiration that will lead me to <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Yixing-Yellow-Crackle-Glazed-Service/dp/B002TWLQIM">the least shitty, affordable thing</a> that I could possibly purchase for my loved ones that I haven't already given them at some point in the past. I hate the typically testy scramble to figure out New Year's plans that don't cut someone important out, don't involve <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps/place?oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&um=1&ie=UTF-8&q=clybourne%27s+champaign&fb=1&gl=us&hq=clybourne%27s&hnear=champaign&cid=934396824068417225">standing around out in the freezing weather</a> for too long, and aren't basically a re-hash of getting drunk at a friends house in high school.<br /><br />But at the same time, c'mon: Those tasks aren't so bad. They don't take up much of my time, and I doubt they take up much of yours. And aren't all pleasures essentially fleeting, anyway? All the ones I've enjoyed seem to be at least. Fuck if I'm not going to get sentimental about the people I shared them with, wherever they be now.<br /><br />The year is 2009--the last year of the first decade of the 21st century--or a few moments longer! And however unrealistic it is, I hope that everyone has a chance to enjoy this time while it lasts. I am especially grateful for all the incredible opportunities I've had these years and the people that have been there along the way. I've been more fortunate than most, and I haven't given back nearly enough, not anywhere close to what I've received.<br /><br />And Christ, we haven't even gotten to my transgressions! If I slighted you at all, I hope you know how sorry I am. I hate myself for causing any harm to you, and I don't ever want to behave in that way again. Whatever foolish reason I had for acting in the way that I did, it wasn't worth it.<br /><br />You have much to teach me and the world, and I hope that going forward, especially if it hasn't happened already, that you will be recognized and respected and cherished for being here with all of us. I hope that even when things don't go according to your plans, as they are loathe to do, you will still find happiness, satisfaction and meaning, perhaps more through adversity, although again, it'd be nice if some stuff just worked and came easy.<br /><br />More than this, I hope that however the last years were for you, you're looking forward to 2010. Why shouldn't you be? Especially because, according to the decade summaries and analysis-pieces in the mainstream media, the first 10 revolutions around the sun of the 21st century were a real bust, perhaps the <a href="http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,1942834,00.html">worst 10 ever</a> (…or at least as far back as the Baby Boomers can remember). You know why of course--it's all the <a href="http://www.time.com/time/photogallery/0,29307,1942749,00.html">usual suspects</a>; terrorism, war, greed, pollution, natural disasters, celebrity culture, reality TV. A general shift in society away from the simple common courtesy that used to guide human interaction, an abandonment of the human decency of years' past. It's the "good old days," scenario has been thrown at every up-and-coming generation of youths by their forbears. Others talented individuals have <a href="http://johnwilmes.blogspot.com/2009/12/every-generation-thinks-its-last.html">written</a> about how tired and futile this argument is, and I fully agree.<br /><br />But I do think there is something to be said for knowing where we came from; all the unsung <a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=121206408">hard work</a> and <a href="http://andrewsullivan.theatlantic.com/the_daily_dish/2009/12/person-of-the-year.html">sacrifice</a> and yes, even the hell of a lot of <a href="http://blog.aynrandcenter.org/the-year-of-ayn-rand/">bad <span style="text-decoration: underline;">ideas</span></a> that have gone into making the world what is today. It's an endemically imperfect world of course, and it will likely always be. But it is also so full of life and passion and possibility, I can't help but be overcome with gratitude to those who made it so. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gtnl9GsEvEc">Every (other) time </a>I stop and think about it, I am moved by all that has lead up to this very moment, and I long for what comes next.<br /><br />Sure sure, the next decade will be filled with really unfortunate, unwelcome, unforeseen twists that will fuck a lot of things up. People will continue to suffer miserably. People that don't deserve to die will. But I also think that the coming years will be filled with unprecedented accomplishment, incredible progress, and awe-inspiring, life-affirming, bone-chillingly crazy innovation. Lest we forget, the century is young! It's been a wild, unruly, undisciplined child so far, but <a href="http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200912/dobbs-orchid-gene">sometimes those kids turn out</a> to be the brightest minds, the true revolutionists, the luminaries. She's just learning, so give her a chance, will ya?<br /><br />It will be worth it to stick around and see it all go down, I have no doubt. I'll do my damnedest to make sure I can be there, and I hope you will too, but in the end, its not really up to us now, is it? So cheers motherfuckers. A toast to whatever connection, however circumstantial or providential, has brought you to this gleaming pile of mind-vomit. And now, for a second round expulsion of malformed cliches: See you on the flip-side. God Bless America. God Bless the Globe. God Bless Us All, Even My Atheist Friends. Hail Satan! Hail Santa! XX OO<br /><br />Love always,<br />Your pal,<br />CarlCarl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-26040374503827744392009-10-20T23:16:00.014-05:002009-10-21T00:30:45.806-05:00The Best Part of Believe Is Belie<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LGKUp6EVGCw/St6Sa8MPKwI/AAAAAAAAAEs/XY4iN7STtqk/s1600-h/paractive.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 194px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LGKUp6EVGCw/St6Sa8MPKwI/AAAAAAAAAEs/XY4iN7STtqk/s320/paractive.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394910395168140034" border="0" /></a><br />When viewed primarily as a horror film about a modern-day demon possession, <span style="font-style: italic;">Paranormal Activity</span> is satisfactorily thrilling. It is not exceptionally novel; nor could it be--not in the post-<span style="font-style: italic;">Blair Witch</span>, post-<span style="font-style: italic;">Cloverfield</span> era--but it is inventive and engaging enough on its own merits to warrant the $9 or $10 dollars of admission the recession-weary, Halloween-seasoned adult filmgoer will likely hand over.<br /><br />To the credit of the director and the ultra-slim cast-turned-crew involved, the film consistently achieves a tone of impending, genuinely disturbing disaster. It is an escalating tone of hysteria that one too often expects of, but fails to find in horror films: a tone that begins measured and allows for sufficient levity along the dark, twisting, path of increasing psychological unease; with choice moments of comic relief, and at least one or two self-reflexive references to the inherent foolishness of the situation, all while staying well clear of obvious parody. (More inter-genre comparisons to follow below)<br /><br />It's a first-rate directing job by newcomer Oren Peli, a former video game programmer who was, according to the<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm2305431/board/nest/132216524"> IMDB boards</a>, responsible for some super old-school stuff and the 1998 NFL Blitz-wannabe NFL Xtreme. Sufficed to say he has probably, hopefully, found his true calling with this movie. It is an enormous accomplishment to have created, as your first film, a work that is so <a href="http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/paranormal_activity/">broadly acclaimed</a>, that has received enormous credit on all three primary fronts: commercial, critical, and indie--not to mention the fact that is falls in such an easily-dismissed genre. It will be especially difficult for him to follow up on such a culturally resonant movie even with the fuller budget and higher-production value that his next film has been allotted, but make no mistake, he's riding on a wave of goodwill right now, and well deserved it is.<br /><br />According to interviews he's given, Peli's inspiration for <span style="font-style: italic;">Paranormal Activity</span> came about when he moved into his first house from an apartment. The would-be director's imagination soon got the better of him, and he became suspicious of the unfamiliar noises he was hearing throughout the house at night, regular moans and creeks and wind and the ordinary big house noises, accented by the relative quiet of his suburban neighborhood and his unfamiliarity with the situation.. As he is quoted by <a href="http://www.cinematical.com/2009/10/09/oren-peli-paranormal-activity-interview/">Cinematical</a>: " That's kind of what made me think how I would go about trying to figure out what's going on and being the techno-geek that I am, my initial inclination would be to get video cameras and set them up around the house to see what was going on. I didn't actually go ahead and do that, but that's what started making me think how freaky it would be if you had cameras running at home while you sleep and actually did catch something."<br /><br />Thus, the premise that the movie--or the way it is being marketed, that it is instrumentally about demon-possession--is challenged, compounded by Peli's admission that it stemmed from his idea to construct a kind of <a href="http://www.theage.com.au/news/war-on-terror/how-london-became-the-world146s-cctv-capital/2005/07/25/1122143780626.html">CCTV </a>security feed in his own home. The conception of the supernatural source behind the noises came about after Peli thought of setting up cameras everywhere.<br /><br />The film's male-lead, Micah (pronounced Meeka, named for the actor who portrays him) is probably read by some audience members as a director-surrogate anyway, but that the film literally begins with the director's first thought should serve to highlight the similarity further.<br /><br />The basic idea behind the surveillance experiment itself can be-read several ways:<br />Either Micah is compunding his girlfriend Katie's (and later his anxieties) by creating a de-facto "reality show" within their own home, replete with narcissistic self-examination and over-dramatization of otherwise mundane activities, which the liberal use of the camera for non-surveillance purposes would suggest.<br /><br />OR he is using Kate's anxiety as an excuse to gain what he perceives to be more control over his "domain, Katie, which is evidenced by his reluctance to turn to outsiders for help and his possessive comments in the film, e.g. 'This is my house, you're my girlfriend, I'm gonna deal with this,'<br /><br />OR he is adopting a position of modern, skeptical, quasi-scientific arrogance (indicated by his reliance on technology and the various pseudo-scientific experiments he conducts) in an attempt first to disprove, then later fight, an ancient, undeniably powerful supernatural entity.<br /><br />OR some combination of the above, which you patient reader have probably already concluded on your own.<br /><br />The second-to-last point is of special interest to me--One of the most persistent questions I found himself asking as the film drew to its close was why didn't Katie or Micah get ahold of a priest? Where was <a href="http://www.imdb.com/character/ch0003861/">Father Damien</a>?<br /><br />The question is too-readily and unsatisfactorily brushed away by deferring to the two psychic-professionals in the film, one who appears on-screen twice and the other who is only mentioned. Of course, neither of these individuals proves particularly helpful, which would seem to support my initial conclusion that our doomed couple are atheists, equating organized religion to parapsychology: why turn to a priest why a psychic couldn't get the job done?<br /><br />But as I mentioned to my friend <a href="http://twitter.com/nirajc">Niraj</a>, if our heroes are supposed to be modernists, then they would undoubtedly be acquainted with <span style="font-style: italic;">The Exorcist</span>, or less probably <span style="font-style: italic;">Constantine (Hellblazer)</span>, or any number of other pop-cultural references to demon exorcisms wherein Christian religious rites prove at least moderately effective in dispelling demons. Few things bother me as much in movies as when characters <a href="http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/NotUsingTheZWord">conspicuously display lack of cinematic knowledge</a> of the very genre used to categorize their own story. It is especially prominent in zombie films, very few of which even contain the term "zombie" at all. (<span style="font-style: italic;">Shaun of the Dead</span> famously spoofed this tradition.)<br /><br />Even if the characters are meant to be anti-religious, one would think that their worsening paranormal experiences would finally compel them to reconsider the merits of a man (or woman) of the cloth, or of any organized religious tradition for that matter. Plus, one of the film's penultimate scenes prominently features Katie clutching that overtly Christian symbol and exorcist-tool, the crucifix, indicating exactly the kind of desperate appeal to the protectorate-God I have been advocating.<br /><br />Let's assume the movie isn't nominally an existential crisis or crisis-of-faith though. Accepting the miniscule budget, <span style="font-style: italic;">Paranormal Activity</span> is not your standard horror-fare, to be certain. The obnoxious hyperactive, jump-cut editing of many modern horror successes (and I implicate the excellent <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3J0yc4ndZ3s"><span style="font-style: italic;">High Tension</span></a> alongside the atrocious <span style="font-style: italic;">Saw</span> franchise in this regard) is nowhere to be found. But it doesn't exhibit much of the mythology of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Exorcist</span> either, which Peli also cites as an inspiration, or even that of it's modern cousins <span style="font-style: italic;">The Blair Witch</span> or <span style="font-style: italic;">Cloverfield,</span> although it shares their shaky (some [old people] find it nauseating) camera-work.<br /><br />Most useful to me is the fairly transparent but perhaps overlooked comparison to Sam Raimi's <span style="font-style: italic;">Drag Me to Hell</span>, another movie about a demon pursuing a young woman's soul that came out in theaters earlier this year only to be forgotten all-too quickly.<br /><br />Now, I'm not the biggest Sam Raimi fan, but I am a vocal defender of the guy's talents. I am proud to say I loved<span style="font-style: italic;"> The Quick and The Dead</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">Spiderman 3</span>, so maybe an uber-fan designation is warranted.<br /><br />That being said, I wasn't particularly excited for <span style="font-style: italic;">Drag Me to Hell</span>, and the film about met my expectations. But one thing the film did well is something Raimi has been known for since his earliest directing days- establishing and building upon a mythology of evil. Some would argue that it is the actually same meta-mythology across all his films, or at least all of his horror pictures; a mythology where possession, dehumanization, physical deformity and general mortal peril occur with startling regularity.<br /><br />If that's the case <span style="font-style: italic;">Drag Me to Hell</span> certainly ticks most of, if not all the boxes: The film begins with a seemingly bizarre but undeniably thrilling flashback in which we are first introduced to the film's antagonist, the Lamia. Later revealed to be a goat-like demon, the dark presence of the Lamia is immediately established as a powerful, capable threat; literally pulling its first victim, a small boy, through fissures in the earth down into a fiery hell. After the film's heroine is cursed with the demon, she desires the help of a psychic, much to the chagrin of her skeptical, philosophy professor boyfriend.<br /><br />It's easy to draw the parallel here to <span style="font-style: italic;">Paranormal Activity</span>, and tempting to go even further still: equating the message of both films as some sort of post-feminist critique of modern heterosexual relationships in which the woman feels so trapped by her surroundings, obligations and her patronizing mate that she is literally driven to a self-destructive mental breakdown. It is an undoubtedly interesting thought, and one that could warrant it's own blog post, but I'll spare you and leave that up to a more capable writer.<br /><br />What I'm trying to get at it is that <span style="font-style: italic;">Drag Me To Hell</span> exceeds <span style="font-style: italic;">Paranormal Activity</span> in terms of it's commitment to developing a backstory, a compelling mythology. The former film's psychic, Rham Jas, is more than just a throwaway plot-mechanism; he's actually a really enigmatic guy who happens to have a lot of information and skill when it comes to battling psychic evil. Also eventually proven ineffective, his presence still makes the film more complete and in my mind, more authentic than the faux-documentarian gimmick of <span style="font-style: italic;">Paranormal Activity</span>.<br /><br />The world as most people know it, even atheists, is not irreligious. There is much folklore and superstition built up behind some of the most thoughtless of gestures, e.g. saying "bless you" when someone sneezes. Albeit, modern variants of archaic rituals don't function in the same way as they originally began, but my point is that it is a mistake not to play this up this mystical undercurrent in horror films, a point in which <span style="font-style: italic;">Drag Me to Hell</span> actually does markedly better than most.<br /><br />People make up backstories for everything in their lives. "Why the fuck did the elevator doors have to close on methis time, when I was running late to the goddamn presentation?! It must not be my day." It's called <a href="http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=patternicity-finding-meaningful-patterns">patternicity</a>; the brain seeks to make order of arbitrariness. Especially in our reality-TV-obsessed world, the most ordinary occurrences take on a mythical quality. Everyone's relationship is <span style="font-style: italic;">Romeo and Juliet</span>, Anthony and Cleopatra etc. etc. Everyone's worst day is the worst day in history, and now, more than ever they can and want to tell you about it.<br /><br />But maybe this is why the demon in <span style="font-style: italic;">Paranormal Activity</span> is so undeveloped. It's Micah's and Katie's story, after all--the story of their relationship--that should be most important to viewers. But what does it say about their story that they are so unwilling to look to others for help? To get rid of a fucking demon, no less. It's not like they have a bed bug-infestation or something. Although having experienced that myself, I might select the demon.<br /><br />But there's a case to be made that the demon functions to some degree more like the shark in <span style="font-style: italic;">Jaws</span>, as an evil presence rather than a fully-formed character. It too is both reviled and sought-after. Unlike <span style="font-style: italic;">Drag Me to Hell</span>, where the Lamia was a clear menace from the get-go, <span style="font-style: italic;">Paranormal Activity</span>'s demon proves strangely enticing to the young couple, especially the brash Micah, who relishes baiting it, observing it, communicating with it, at least up until a certain point-of-no-return.<br /><br />This, in-turn, raises a host of other spiritual questions: Why such an attraction to evil supernatural forces rather than "good?" Why would anyone entertain a dark non-entity for so long while denying even the slightest-possibility of salvation promised by the Christian faith? Or any other faith?<br /><br />Perhaps that is the true dark genius of <span style="font-style: italic;">Paranormal Activity</span> after all: the couple does believe in the presence of organized evil. The irony is that the force feeds off their belief and fear and eventually pulls itself together to horrific effect. If they were true atheists or non-believers, they'd be able to will the demon away by ignoring it, excusing it with other natural phenomena, and generallly not giving it the attention it craves. Thus, I think the movie suffers for a lack of definition when it comes to its own supernatural underpinnings.<br /><br />Which leads me to my final, tantalizing observation: I think if you want to read <span style="font-style: italic;">Paranormal Activity</span> as a metaphor for anything, it's not relationships or a lack of faith. In the vein of <span style="font-style: italic;">Requiem for a Dream</span>, the movie really seems to be a dramatization of the dangers of chronic drug addiction. Think about it: Micah blames Katie for keeping her "demon" a "secret" from him and pulling him into her web of darkness and paranoia. Why does Katie get up so much in middle of the night? Insomnia is a common side-effect of rampant drug-use. Why is Katie so upset that Micah is filming them? Why doesn't Micah want them to "get help?" We hardly ever see them leaving the house, let alone going to work or visiting with friends. Katie's lone friend seems wain, pallid, and similarly mentally fuzzy. Could she be their dealer? The ending, of course, a tragic OD. And what about the white powder Micah throws all over the ground at one point? That's gotta be... OK-- that last one is a stretch ;-)<br /><br />In Sum: A surprisingly taut, artistic and visceral film, with a disappointingly undeveloped backstory and unintellectual plot. Recommended, but with a note of caution--it can't possibly live up to it's marketing hype.Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-91081519682538108432009-08-30T21:37:00.007-05:002009-08-30T23:17:31.918-05:00"That's a Bingo!" OR "The Shoe Is On the Other Foot"<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LGKUp6EVGCw/Sps4ZN14TPI/AAAAAAAAAEc/YxRZ6YAax-8/s1600-h/inglourious-basterds-31.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LGKUp6EVGCw/Sps4ZN14TPI/AAAAAAAAAEc/YxRZ6YAax-8/s320/inglourious-basterds-31.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375952586060352754" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Photo courtesy <a href="http://www.tstout.com/">Tyler Stout,</a> via <a href="http://wearemoviegeeks.com/2009/08/kick-ass-inglourious-basterds-posters/">We Are Movie Geeks</a><br /></span></div><br /><br />Fanboys know that<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0361748/"> Tarantino's WWII flick </a>has been a long, long time coming. The celebrated, controversial, eponymous writer/director announced sometime before the turn of the millennium that he intended to create his own version of the <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0061578/">Dirty Dozen</a> (a classic American WWII movie of the earnest, macho 1960's sort, wherein Allied soldiers facing court-martial for various capital offenses are offered the promise of full pardons for undertaking a suicide mission). In the time between this declaration and the eventual release of <span style="font-style: italic;">Inglourious Basterds</span>, a sidelined Tarantino created <span style="font-style: italic;">Kill Bill</span> and the <span style="font-style: italic;">Planet Terror</span> portion of <span style="font-style: italic;">Grindhouse</span>.<br /><br />I remember very vividly after the release of <span style="font-style: italic;">Kill Bill Pt. 1 </span>in 2003, (which, if <a href="http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/kill_bill_vol_1/">generally well-recieved</a>, still achieved nowhere near the universal acclaim of his earlier seminal films <span style="font-style: italic;">Pulp Fiction</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">Reservoir Dogs</span>) one particularly scathing Internet comment on the film that accused Tarantino of smoking too much weed, watching too much kung-fu and becoming too deluded to realize the difference between quality and self-indulgence in his filmmaking. So if one sect of ultra-loyal Tarantino worshiping fanboys were always unequivocally excited for his WWII project, by the time of <span style="font-style: italic;">Kill Bill</span>, an increasing subset of geekdom was becoming more vocally dubious about his abilities. Can anyone blame them? As it is with any long-in-development project from an artistic giant, e.g. Guns and Roses <span style="font-style: italic;">Chinese Democracy</span>, the more time that goes by, the less likely it is that the results will come anywhere close to justifying the wait.<br /><br />But of course, the majority of the moviegoing public has minimal-to-no knowledge about this back story. They simply began seeing trailers a few months ago with a hillbilly-accented Brad Pitt talking about killing Nazis and then, FLASH: Tarantino's name, and they either bought into that premise or they didn't.<br /><br />Fortunately for Tarantino, and, more fortunately for the film's producers, the Weinstein's (who are struggling financially as <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/16/business/media/16wein.html">David Segal expertly reported in the New York Times</a>), <span style="font-style: italic;">Inglourious Basterds</span> looks to be a <a href="http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/inglourious_basterds/">critical</a> and <a href="http://chud.com/articles/articles/20559/1/DELLAMORTE039S-BOX-OFFICE-WRAP-UP-82109/Page1.html">commercial</a> hit. True, it's not going to match the stellar success of<span style="font-style: italic;"> Pulp Fiction</span> - and again, what could? - but it's going to come close, maybe even ascending to his second-highest gross by the time its all said and done. And yet I would argue that the most fortunate people in this whole situation are actually us, the American moviegoing public, fanboys and the less-rabid folk alike. Why's that? Well, the simple truth is that <span style="font-style: italic;">Inglourious Basterds </span>is just a thoroughly well-made film in all aspects. It's confidently written, inspiringly directed, expertly acted, and cleverly edited. It's entertaining, intellectual, insightful, violent, humorous, daring, fun, occasionally romantic and at least in a few notable instances, appropriately tragic. Yes, the film is also occasionally sadistic and gory, but c'mon, that's Tarantino, and, as I alluded to before, you're either down with that side of his work or you're not.<br /><br />On more than one occasion, as those close to me will attest, I have actually been conspicuously among "you're not" segment of the population, as in I've not always been sold on Tarantino's artistic merit. I found <span style="font-style: italic;">Pulp Fiction</span> to be highly overrated (for a film about hitmen and other unsavory characters, there's more than a few stretches of time where it's damn boring) and <span style="font-style: italic;">Reservoir Dogs</span> to be more gratuitous and nihilistic than it was subversive. I remember vocally criticizing the first <span style="font-style: italic;">Kill Bill</span> for its monotony of violence, but it has grown on me tremendously, especially in light of<span style="font-style: italic;"> Kill Bill Vol. 2</span>, which I still personally enjoy the most out of all his films (any director that has the chutzpah to blacken the screen for minutes at a time, relying solely on audio to move the plot forward, deserves my unbridled appreciation).<br /><br />Yet in the run-up to to <span style="font-style: italic;">Inglourious Basterds</span> I felt a strange sense of excitement, of honest anticipation. Even reading the early mixed-reactions out of Cannes didn't dissuade me in the slightest, in-fact, I felt an even stronger conviction that I would enjoy this film. It wasn't just the marketing that sold me, for some odd reason I was eager to see what Tarantino would do with the setting, with the actors. More on that last point: He is well-known for re-invigorating the careers of actors in deep slumps (see Travolta circa '91, Carradine circa '03), but in this case, he's got a leading man at the top of his game (Brad Pitt) and some notable ascending names (B.J. Novak, Eli Roth).<br /><br />Whether it was some sort of unnoticed maturation, evolution in my own moviegoing taste or an overall low-quality year of films, or some combination thereof, I really, genuinely wanted to see and appreciate<span style="font-style: italic;"> Inglourious Basterds </span>for what I thought it would be: a violent, Grimm-stye adult fairytale set in WWII era France.<br /><br />So it was that I found myself in the awkward position of defending the picture a day-or-so before it's official release, prior to myself or it's would-be detractors seeing it. What happened was this: At my internship, during a fairly ordinary lunch period on the sun-scorched roof-patio of our office building here in DC, a common discussion about weekend plans ensued. I proposed the idea of getting a group of interns to see <span style="font-style: italic;">Inglourious Basterds</span> on opening (Friday) night, only to be greeted with reactions of harsh distaste, even disgust at the suggestion. Two of my fellow interns, friends of mine, were unapologetic in their pre-determined aversion to and boycott of the film. Amidst my own surprise and rising defensiveness (I thought it was a fine idea for a night's entertainment? No?), I attempted to understand their strong position against it. Apparently, I had neglected to consider the strong, implicit sociopolitical implications of the film: The fact that was set during WWII, that it was not factual but could be misread as such, that it was openly described as being a "Jewish Revenge" fantasy ("Kosher-Porn," according to <a href="http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200909/tarantino-nazis">one notable review</a>), raised a host of problematic issues for those concerned about the present state of Jews, Anti-Semitism, Israel, Palestinians, The Middle East and all other related hotbeds of real-life controversy, to say nothing of the historical legacy of WWII, Nazism and the Holocaust.<br /><br />"But Tarantino's not concerned with those things," I protested. "Look, you're reading too much into it." I.e. superimposing too many of your own intellectual preoccupations onto the film. "The movie isn't about World War Two, it's a spaghetti-western that happens to be set in World War Two, it uses World War Two as the backdrop." This proved to be an unsatisfactory defense, as the very fact that the writer/director would have the audacity to trivialize the memory of World War II with a fanciful, farcical story was evidence of the film's irresponsibility and lack of taste. I tried in vein to bring up the fact that many other directors and popular entertainment had done just this, creating fictional, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPk5mCYKCtU&feature=related">humorous plots out of a real tragedy</a>, but to no avail. We agreed to disagree, and that was that.<br /><br />But I will say I was wrong about one of my latter, pre-viewing assertions: WWII is NOT just a backdrop for the film. Indeed, by the end of the movie, our titular protagonists are thrust into the absolutely most vital position in the Allied offense. The course of an alternate war history is irrevocably altered because of the deliberate machinations of characters and resulting events. This is the simultaneously the most bold and ridiculous aspect of the movie, but it is unabashedly so, as we would expect from Tarantino. Furthermore, I would argue that by not compromising his vision, by deliberately warping historical narrative, with all of the negative connotations that may have on a particular segment of the audience wedded to <span style="font-style: italic;">Saving Private Ryan</span>-style historical reenactment, the filmmaker actually succeeds in making this the most raw, powerful and emotive part of the show.<br /><br />Meanwhile, devotees of Tarantino-signature dialogue have more than enough to chew on with this screenplay, which employs the various languages of the European front so often that the subtitles become a source of self-reflective comedy. Two of my favorite lines form the title of this review, but it is the second, "The shoe is on the other foot," that really gets at the heart of what is going on in and with this film.<br /><br />All but the most deliberately disengaged know what it's ostensibly about going in: A squad of Jewish-American soldiers are assigned to massacre, to brutalize, some would say terrorize, as many Nazis as they possibly can in Occupied France. In trailers we hear Brad Pitt's character, the commanding officer, Lt. Aldo Raine, saying he wants every one of the men under his command to be scalping the Nazi soldiers they take down, with each man responsible for producing no less than 100 Nazi scalps. A grim (if you're like me, darkly-comedic, but grim nonetheless) directive to be certain, but the trailers do not evidence how successful, if at all, the men are in this enterprise. But watching the film, we quickly learn that they are stunningly so, enough to rattle Hitler himself. Thus, the shoe is indeed on the other foot- with the overwhelming numbers of Hitler's "master race" irrationally fearing the wrath of a very small number of the very group they systematically objectified, subjugated and exterminated.<br /><br />I recently claimed, in conversation, that <span style="font-style: italic;">Inglorious Basterds</span> was Tarantino's most mainstream film, and I still stand by this assertion. What is more universally agreed upon than the evil of the Nazis and the righteousness of the Allied forces in taking them down?<br /><br />But that's just an excuse for Tarantino to mess with us: By inverting the role of the pursuer, making the Nazis the victim of a group of sadistic and yet still undeniably charismatic and "good" American soldiers, the film becomes much more interesting and emotionally complex. The same goes for another hero, the French Jew Shosanna, whose early, horrific escape from the film's principle Nazi villain drives her to plan an epic, cold-bolded massacre of her own. Time and time again, as the plot unfolds, Tarantino reverses the relative roles of the characters in the film- moving them between polarizing positions of dominance and subjugation, of moral superiority and compromise, of power and powerlessness. This is, for me, the chief accomplishment of the film, and the reason it is so satisfying on so many levels, the fact that it is ultimately all predicated on the continuous shifting of power-dynamics. To be certain, it is not very faithful to historical reality at all, but at the same time, I cannot help but think, from my perspective some 60+ years later, that Tarantino is actually being quite faithful to the essence of WWII, with all of its untold moral ambiguity and then-uncertain outcome.<br /><br />In Sum: A masterful film that is an undeniable, exceptional, rollicking good time, in spite of its sociopolitical baggage. Undoubtedly the best of '09, thus far.Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-30994198748608629202009-08-16T20:22:00.008-05:002009-08-16T23:18:54.578-05:00GooalllllllllllsWould you continue reading this review If I began by writing that "I'm <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">jonesing</span> for tickets to the 2010 World Cup in Johannesburg?" It reflects a true sentiment, despite the shamefully awful pun.<br /><br />Granted, I'm no great <a href="http://www.fifa.com/worldcup/index.html">association football</a> (soccer) fan, although suffering repeated losses earlier this summer in the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cegh5PfzLCo"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">FIFA</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">videogame</span> series</a> have definitely made me more passionate and more invested in the game than I ever have been. My slacker friends and I were even motivated to play a few clumsy pickup games in the dizzying heat of summer afternoons in Missouri.<br /><br />On one <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">occasion</span>, two random guys entered the fray and I ended up unintentionally bloodying one of their shin's when we scuffled over a stray ball. I can't recall who ended up winning that particular game, but before we retired, I offered my own shin out to the injured fellow as a measure of consolation, of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">sadomasochistic</span> fairness; some sort of testosterone-driven deferral to Hammurabi's Code. And to his credit, he was at first entirely reluctant, waving the prospect off with the kind of "aw-shucks" familiarity we Midwesterners are perpetually associated with before I finally persisted in wearing in him down with my own posturing toughness and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">stubbornness</span>.<br /><br />"You sure about this?" Beady eyes flicked from my gaze to my outstretched shin.<br />"Yeah man, you earned it."<br /><br />He shook his head and muttered a few more words of what sounded like <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">genuine</span> concern. Then he locked his eyes onto my shin and raised his foot and I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">suddenly</span> had a sickening vision of him just wailing on the bone and shattering it backwards in-half, through the skin, compound-fracture style. But I swallowed saliva and held firm. His kick proved to be startlingly <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">pansyish</span> (all toe) but effective; stinging pain for a moment and then I had to shake my leg out a bit and hobbled around for the next two minutes before heading home. I don't remember the guy's name, and its unlikely that I'll ever see him again, but I like to think I did us well. After all, he left the field with blood running down his leg. I hope, and I'm pretty confident, that he didn't have somewhere posh to go.<br /><br />Besides revealing the disconcerting tendency of my psychology to suddenly flood my mind with gory images (a tendency that <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0088955/">Neill <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Blomkamp</span></a> also seems to share) the story also makes me ponder the ways in which sport, particularly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">football</span>, can both create and help to mitigate conflict. Had District 9 been set in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Joburg</span> in 2010, with the World Cup in full swing, would the non-human "prawns" have been <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">received</span> quite so disgracefully? Or would they have been treated even worse; massacred, for instance?<br /><br />Both the World Cup and District 9 are essentially about globalization. It isn't absurd to think of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">football</span> as the first agent of globalization, connecting vastly diverse peoples and cultures with a single template for diversion and appreciation; 22 players, a square field, some lines, a ball, and absolutely no hands (save for goalies and throw-ins, of course). The sport has both <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/C%C3%B4te_d%27Ivoire_national_football_team">ended</a> and <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/football/2007/feb/21/theknowledge.sport">started</a> wars, and represents the first <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">truly</span><a href="http://www.carnegieendowment.org/publications/index.cfm?fa=view&id=18064"> free-flowing labor force</a>.<br /><br />And here is where we come to the crux of District 9, for where there are and many bodies and hearts and minds, there will always also necessarily be markets. More specifically, there will always be profiteers; people whose sole self-identified purpose in their lives to amass as much wealth, real or opportunistic, as they possibly can, consequences be damned.<br /><br />The obvious <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">villain</span> of District 9 is one of these such people, the CEO of the scarily-realistic and appropriately vaguely-named international corporation "Multi-National United," or <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">MNU</span>, a kind 0f futuristic <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Halliburton</span>. The "hero," if he can be called such, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/character/ch0155389/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Wikus</span> Van De <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Merwe</span></a>, begins the film as a high-level operations manager for this same company. In the film's initial documentary-style footage, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Wikus</span> comes off as naive, out-of-his league, and so childishly cheerful it borders on annoying. We expect to see the alien prawns schooling him as he tries to evacuate them from their slum, and so we have a good a time when he gets barfed on and pushed around a bit.<br /><br />But then, the film begins to take a much darker and more disturbing turn, even for the semi-geeky film <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">junky</span> who already knew the basic gimmick going-in (i.e. Aliens come to earth and we subjugate them, for a change). The film actually pulls a <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0289043/">28-Days Later</a> on us, with the conflict between the non-humans and the humans taking an ancillary position to the conflict between groups of humans.<br /><br />There's a brilliant moment when the principle prawn sidekick, Christopher Jones, is stuck in a holding truck between three-warring factions of humans; the MNU mercenaries, the Nigerian arms-dealers, and Wilkus himself, as an unlikely one-man army. It shouldn't be so easy to read such a complex series of expressions, from bewilderment to pity to defeated cynicism, on an insectisoid's face, but Blomkamp and company do an amazing job with the SFX, and besides, we are feeling the same things too. What Christopher is seeing in this moment is all of humanity's great potential, squandered on the most vile, selfish and self-destructive of enterprises, the fight for commodities.<br /><br />Quick aside: How perfectly, deliberately ironic is it that the white male protagonist has the most interesting-sounding name in the film, while the non-human prawn has the most familiarly "Christian," especially to American viewers?<br /><br />And so while the movie may make some viewers uncomfortable with its relentless, creative dissipation of the human body into a variety of mists covering the entire scale, from chunky to fine, what its irrefutably most discomforting is the recognition that we have seen this story before. All the time, in fact. It is the same story that has led us to our current ecological crisis and "clash of civilizations" Arab and Western. It is always the same story; humans find something of value and fuck it up, but it is always a blood sport to see who can fuck it up first. Damned if we don't enjoy watching it.<br /><br />That final note of guilt, the one that hits after the lights have dimmed, that we have just paid to see a display of fantastical weapons, metaphorically (and most probably actively) enriching the very military-industrial complex that serves as the film's principal antagonist, well that is something that you don't often come across in your average World Cup football match.<br /><br />So if football is ultimately used to stave-off and channel human conflict, and I find there is some reason to believe it does, perhaps stars like Ronaldo are worth 80 million pounds. If I can just get paid for some of this nonsense anytime soon, I'll gladly throw a few paychecks toward Joburg '10.Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-91716472944360305512009-06-03T15:59:00.003-05:002009-06-03T16:21:37.149-05:00The Gigantic Mr. AndersonIf for his next film, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0027572/">Wes Anderson</a> were to suddenly drop the motif of refined preciousness that has increasingly dominated his oeuvre, instead returning to the disconcerting tone of oddness that characterized his debut <span style="font-style: italic;">Bottle Rocket</span>, the result would be nearly identical to<span style="font-style: italic;"> <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1176251/">Gigantic</a></span>.<br /><br />A low-budget indie by newcomer writer/director Matt Aselton, <span style="font-style: italic;">Gigantic</span> stars Paul Dano and Zooey Deschanel as a thoroughly baffling young couple attempting to make sense of their burgeoning romance and disparately erratic families. Like Anderson's films, <span style="font-style: italic;">Gigantic</span> frequently portrays individual and family dysfunction as whimsical and comedic.<br /><br />More to the point, the film features two versions of Anderson's typical fiercely outspoken, rebellious father figure characters (e.g. Royal Tenenbaum, Steve Zissou). John Goodman appears first as Al Lolly, a profane, fast-talking art collector who insists on being driven around Manhattan lying down in the back of his station wagon due to chronic back pain. When he sends his daughter Harriet, aka Happy (Deschanel) to finalize the deals of a $14,000 mattress purchase, she encounters reticent salesman Brian Weathersby (Dano), about to embark on a trip to Vermont for his father's 80th birthday.<br /><br />Sentimentality gives way to surrealism, as the elder Mr. Weathersby's birthday tradition actually consists primarily of a communal mushroom trip/hunt with his adult sons in the Vermont backwoods. Refreshingly, there are no outlandish special effects on display here to cheapen this experience- the viewer relies instead solely on the actors to convey 'shoom-induced feelings of wonder and confused. Yet even without <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Psylocibin">psilocybin</a>, Papa Weathersby is often confused about the age he is living in- requesting bourbon and the domestic services of a (secretary) girl in a modern day cubicle.<br /><br />Thus, the same Andersonian assumption that eccentricity accompanies age and privilege is on full display here. The most awkward, unexpected and disjointed conversations occur in the spaces of greatest luxury- downtown lofts, a fully furnished cabin, high-priced restaurants, a special message parlor etc. While it is never made explicit, it is fairly evident that money buys one the ability to act outlandish without very many legal or social repercussions.<br /><br />Animating all the proceedings is a firmly American upper-class sense of entitlement- to have one's thoughts expressed aloud, no matter how convoluted, and one's voice heard above the public din, no matter how small and selfish. Even Dano's comparatively humble mattress salesman feels entitled enough to seriously desire adopting a Chinese baby at age 28 (although his reasons are presumably less superficial and disagreeable than those of some certain high-profile <a href="http://thesuperficial.com/2009/05/madonnas_adoption_efforts_get.php">celebrity</a> <a href="http://en.rian.ru/world/20090526/155093656.html">mothers</a>).<br /><br />The film is unabashedly sexier and more sexually explicit than any of Anderson's, including the over-hyped appearance of a "nude" (backside only) Natalie Portman in the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=related&v=XzztEWKRuj0"><span style="font-style: italic;">Hotel Chevalier</span></a> short film opening to <span style="font-style: italic;">The Darjeeling Limited</span>. Loly parades around her father's loft in short, revealing lingerie. At her invitation, Weathersby and her fuck for the first time in the back of her father's car while he is receiving chiropractic treatment. When they are finished, it looks as though she is pulling back on thigh-highs. The couple proceed to go skinny-dipping in a university pool on their second date, with Deschanel exposing her breasts. If not reality, all of this is a welcome dip in explicitness that is sorely lacking from Anderson's style.<br /><br />But it is in unflinching portrayals of mental disturbance and violence that make <span style="font-style: italic;">Gigantic</span> really more than a rip-off of Wes Anderson's current pampered, frilly cinematic world. Sure, suicidal tendencies appear prominently in several of Anderson's works, but never have they manifested themselves with the kind of gory entropy that is evident in this film. Self-destruction is actually personified here as a sadistic "homeless person," Weathersby's ominous bearded stalker (Zach Galifianakis, appearing as one of the leads in the hotly anticipated summer comedy The Hangover), a figure who may or may not even be real. To refer back to Dano's high-profile film by a <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000759/">different Anderson,</a> "there will be blood," and not just a little bit of it, either.<br /><br />Viewers looking for a reprieve in the flighty, wide-eyed Zooey Deschanel will be similarly disappointed, as although her character here begins innocent enough, it is obvious, after a graphic scene of vomiting and various scenes of crying and implied trysting, that she too has some serious mental and emotional issues going on. We get a slice of Happy's biological mother over the phone, drugged out of her wits in a cold marble condo in "Taos...wait, Florida," which tells us a little about her daughter's background, but not enough to explain everything.<br /><br />But that's where <span style="font-style: italic;">Gigantic</span> works best, I think, -in its cryptic treatment of these characters. The viewer is almost never certain what is going on inside anyone's head, perhaps least of all, the director's. What to make of the title, for example? Nothing in this film, outside of John Goodman, is really all that gigantic. There is a loose motif of lab rats swimming for their lives vs. "resigning" to their fates and drowning, repeated in the skinny-dip and Weathersby's fights with his stalker, but the film ends on a conspicuously dry, happy and sentimental note. Such deliberate obfuscation of message and abrupt change in tonality probably doesn't resonate with the majority of moviegoers, but this is an indie film, so it doesn't have to. I found <span style="font-style: italic;">Gigantic</span> to be an intriguing and promising work from a new director, even if it is a little too dependent on Wes Anderson for its themes.<br /><br />In Sum: Fucked-up, funny and sexy, but slow-burning and clearly influenced by Wes Anderson, <span style="font-style: italic;">Gigantic</span> is a worthy endeavor from a first time writer/director.Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-28001860722602730622009-05-26T19:48:00.009-05:002009-05-26T22:06:15.139-05:00Focused on the familyThe strange alignment of the American pop culture zodiac got just a little stranger for me over the past two days, and not only because I saw Lynch's classic <span style="font-style: italic;">Eraserhead</span> for the first time late last night.<br /><br />Indeed, earlier in the Memorial Day evening, in a move made largely to please my girlfriend, but at least partially for the purpose of satisfying my own curiosity, I consented to watch my first full episode, and the season five premiere, of the bona-fide TLC reality show phenomena <span style="font-style: italic;">John & Kate Plus 8</span>. For the unacquainted, this is a program that the <a href="http://www.figure8films.tv/site/shows/jon_kate_plus_8.html">creators describe</a>, in pseudo-documentary lingo, as profiling "a day in the life" of a contemporary American suburban couple raising eight kids, a set of twins and their younger sextuplet siblings.<br /><br />I say "bona-fide" and "phenomena" because I've increasingly observed this program dominating the TV screens and conversational topics of collegiate-age young women like my significant other. The <a href="http://www.vancouversun.com/Life/Kate+Plus+still+rate+Record+ratings+opener/1632346/story.html">ratings figures</a> alone would seem to support my experience, but of course, significant critical attention and <a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/entertainment/tv/2009/05/26/2009-05-26_jon__kate_plus_8_kicks_off_new_season_with_.html">tabloid speculation</a> has been lavished on the show as well.<br /><br />The furor surrounding the show, or rather, the furor surrounding the state of Jon and Kate's marriage has apparently mounted to such an extent that it was played as the central theme of the new season premiere. Shown in a documentary style format, Kate's attempts to mostly single-handedly plan and carry out the sextuplet's 5th birthday celebration were impeded by the appearance of paparazzi, which she (and the editing) portrayed as a kind of group of vaguely threatening bogeymen.<br /><br />Liberally interspersed within this mini-narrative was scenes of the real one, that of Jon and Kate confessing mostly separately to the camera crew, as opposed to earlier seasons where they were apparently filmed together on the same couch. The conspicuously distraught parents espoused their contentious feelings about each other, numerous reports of infidelity (mostly directed at Jon), their family's growing fame, and their full-time careers as reality-show subjects, agreeing on only the most vague and obvious of commitments- selfless love for and care of their brood. The obnoxious question posed by a member by the crew, "What does the future hold?" was greeted with mutual pauses, shrugs and thinly-veiled threats of divorce. Oh, what a terrible turn of events for the idyllic modern fertility experiment!<br /><br />Sarcasm aside, my initial reaction was one I am sure many other viewers felt- that of sadness and regret for having caught the kids up in this whole voyeuristic mess. It's barely cynical to expect that they will have their own individual reality shows a few years down the road, when they've developed their own disorders and drug habits.<br /><br />Even if Jon and Kate don't split up (and the money's saying they won't, as therapy would be a logical ongoing plot point, and two separate "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flavor_of_Love">VH1 Love</a>" contest-style shows are unlikely to play nearly as well with audiences) there remains the fact that their home-movies belong to a fucking television company, their offspring's childhoods syndicated, a-la- <span style="font-style: italic;">The Truman Show</span>, as the entertainment of millions of other households around the country and the world. Growing up in suburban America and coming out "well-adjusted" is challenging enough as it is; growing up in a national fish tank has got to provoke some severe existential angst.<br /><br />But one can't go down this train of thought for very long without putting themselves in the young parents shoes, and conceding that their options were as sparse as their family was large. Clearly, the Jon and Kate could use all the revenue and manpower that that the show provides. And clearly, once they made the decision to allow their family to be televised at all, there was no going back. Anticipating the wild success of the show was not something that anyone could have been expected to do, but there has to be that certain acknowledgment that filming a subject inexorably changes it, and in no small way.<br /><br />Yes, Jon and Kate consciously made a momentous decision- one that would benefit them greatly on paper, but would have an incalculable cost on their souls. As such, I think there is still time for them to emerge as heroes. If they can somehow regain control of the reality-TV apparatus that has presently swallowed them up, I believe they can craft a more emotionally reasonable situation, one that necessarily increases their family's level of privacy.<br /><br />But to endlessly scrutinize and speculate on the state of the Gosselin family is to miss the more interesting point, that of what the show means for America. Or rather, what it means <span style="font-style: italic;">as</span> America, as a primary vessel of entertainment for so many in this entertainment-saturated place and age.<br /><br />For me, this is the ultimate irony, because the basic premise of the show depends instrumentally upon the collectively short-term memory of modern American TV-viewers. As <a href="http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1896734,00.html">James Poniewozik writes in the May 18 issue of TIME Magazine</a>, "Big families used to be a staple of TV: Eight Is Enough, The Brady Bunch, The Waltons, The Partridge Family. When American families with three or more children were common, these clans weren't outlandish. They were like you, just more so. Lately, TV families have gotten smaller, just like viewers' families." <span style="font-style: italic;">Jon & Kate</span> wouldn't be nearly so successful if the show had debuted alongside all its similar, older predecessors, at a time when most American families were big and struggling to make ends meet.<br /><br />At the same time, however, both private and televised American families have grown more multi-cultural.<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm2765215/bio"> Jon's ethnic background</a> includes Korean, Irish and French, and his kids reflect, in varying degrees, a mix of both his and <a href="http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_is_Kate_Gosselin%27s_ethnic_heritage">Kate's "Pennsylvania Dutch"</a> physical features.<br /><br />Most crucially, in a socio-cultural shift in attitudes that would have literally been impossible forty years ago, the show indicates that Americans have seemingly implicitly accepted the biotechnological wonder of<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Artificial_insemination"> human artificial insemination</a>. Procreation by sexual intercourse alone is not to be missed, apparently. The most articulate objections to Jon and Kate are not that they decided to try for kids using artificial insemination, nor that they carried all the embryos to term. Rather, the objections are that they are acting irresponsibly now that they have the kids. And yet, the show wouldn't be compelling if there were any less kids in the family. Biotechnology has thus become doubly profitable, earning revenue not only for doctors but for entertainment producers. Either way, in this case, It's not the means, but the ends that American viewers are concerned with. It is an ends that, as I alluded to before, ironically ignores all beginnings- of life, of family, of TV families.<br /><br />All of this leads me back to <span style="font-style: italic;">Eraserhead</span>, perhaps the strongest case for abortion ever made in a film. It is nearly impossible to view the alternatively tragically and comically mutated infant in the film as anything but a mistake- of its parents, of God, of life itself. And where Jon & Kate is perfectly content to gloss over the biotechnological developments that created the situation, <span style="font-style: italic;">Eraserhead</span> appears to implicate the increasing industrialization of society with the deformation of human beings and human relations. In a way, despite its date, it is much more forward looking than <span style="font-style: italic;">Jon & Kate</span>, predicting what is now a common dissolution of the American family over child-rearing responsibilities and marital fidelity, now entirely separable from fertility.<br /><br />Henry Spencer and Jon Gosselin share more than just an obvious dislike for their wives and their domestic situations. Both men are out of real jobs, on perpetual vacations in their respective surrealistic prisons of heavy machinery and glaring cameras, wanting nothing more than to internalize, to retreat into their own self-absorbed, anachronistic fantasies. Mary X and Kate are both emotional basket-cases, wracked with motherhood responsibilities they neither fully accepted nor rejected, misdirecting their anger and frustration at their equally-guilty male partners.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Eraserhead</span>, though, was designed to be dark and troubling. It is unclear what the pleasure in Jon & Kate really is- or more precisely, where it stops- somewhere in the murky arena between the parents genuine desire for their kids well-being and the sordid reality of entertainment economics, i.e. controversy is more valuable than peace and harmony.<br /><br />If one feels pangs of regret or guilt or experiences any lasting emotional trouble from <span style="font-style: italic;">Jon & Kate</span>, then the <a href="http://www.mercurynews.com/ci_12451435?source=most_viewed">day's news regarding California's Prop 8</a> is certainly food for thought. Why is it acceptable for a young heterosexual American couple to bend the laws of nature to satisfy their desire to have children, resulting a set of twins and a set of sextuplets, when the attempts of homosexuals to marry and adopt are outlawed? Put it another way- whose family is more fucked up, the fictional mutated one in <span style="font-style: italic;">Eraserhead</span>, the "real" one in <span style="font-style: italic;">Jon & Kate</span>, or the hypothetical queer one that exists in American voters' minds? Again, America, or American pop-culture, is often quite a paradox. Let's just hope, <a href="http://www.thewho.net/index.php?name=discography&song=222">like the lyrics of the Who</a>, that in your case, whatever it is, "The Kids Are Alright."Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-66544843047007996372009-04-13T15:26:00.007-05:002009-04-13T22:24:56.098-05:00Fucks in a RowHere's Seth Rogen again, still playing into the overweight loser typecast, giving Kevin James a run for his money as the second American mall ("rent-a") cop to grace movie screens in '09.<br /><br />Leaving behind the inevitable comparisons between the two films, the next thing that comes to mind is Will Ferrell, whose entire career basically consists of riffs on the same "manchild idiot" concept in different situations. Trailers and promo for "Observe and Report" had at least one of my friends concerned that Rogen was falling into a similar pattern with his career choices- although worried is probably not the best word to use, since most of my cohorts (and myself) are at least amused by Ferrell's body of work, despite its lack of thematic variety.<br /><br />And finally, of course, comes the man who needs no introduction, whose reputation proceeds even the work he hasn't touched, generation Y's very own Mel Brooks, aka Judd Apatow. It is a fairly interesting but not altogether surprising development that finds theatergoers confronted with a face-off between two comedies featuring Apatow-alumns on Easter weekend 2009. "Knocked Up" alumns, to be more specific, although it is dubious that many non-cinephiles will take the time to realize this association.<br /><br />For most, the contemporary mainstream cinematic comedy landscape isn't so much about Apatow personally as it is about his <span style="font-style: italic;">style</span>. It is a style defined by rapid-fire, mysognistic dialogue spewed from the mouths of potheads, slackers and generally unproductive, self-involved members of society- but <span style="font-style: italic;">members of society </span>nonetheless.<br /><br />This style is not at all present in "Observe and Report." For the first time since Apatow came on the scene and defined modern comedy as the struggle of the modern urban male to adjust to his changing social predicaments, we have the precise inverse- the struggle of a man<span style="font-style: italic;"> wholly removed</span> from the rest of society refusing to budge, actively trying to <span style="font-style: italic;">bend society to his will.</span> "Bulldoze," is actually the more appropriate verb, as that is precisely the methodolgy employed by Seth Rogen's cop Ronnie Barnhardt.<br /><br />As the wound-up, power-hungry "Head of Mall Security" at a small (nearly rural) town shopping center, Barnhardt is the very embodiment of unlikeability. He's loud, aggressive, crass, brainless and completely pathetic. There is virtually no redeeming qualities about his character except his firm, unwavering commitment to what he views as his "duty." Problematically - this doesn't just mean the titular mission, nor is it simply contained to the radius of the mall. By the end of the film, Ronnie will have injured more law-abiding citizens, both physically and emotionally, than any actual criminals.<br /><br />But therein lies the aboslute beauty of this film. Ronnie isn't successful as a character so much as a<span style="font-style: italic;"> spiritual representation </span>of many characters. Take every prick in a position of minimal authority that has ever gone out of their way to spread unnecessary misery- all the security guards, teachers, maitre-d's, ticket-sellers and DMV employees- strip them down to their lonely, miserable, self-loathing cores, and Ronnie is the approximate result.<br /><br />All of this hyperbole makes the film sound much more sinister than it actually is. Don't get me wrong, it's still primarily an enjoyable, laugh-out-loud, slapstick affair that doesn't really take its darkness seriously at all. Even what should be an objectionable scene of date-rape is punctuated by a poignant, redeeming one-liner.<br /><br />No, "OAR" doesn't swerve so far off the path of comedy to eschew it entirely, like "Sean of the Dead"'s final act, for instance. But what elevates the former film above any of Apatow's or Rogen's previous work is its uniquely clever subversion of the plight of modern working-class white people. This supposedly endangered demographic hasn't really gotten it's proper due in mainstream cinema yet. Apatow's films, and the successive films he's influenced, have made no secret of their escalating favoritism for yuppies- what with the shameless product placement for such urbanite staples as Google, Red Bull, and the Iphone.<br /><br />But "OAR" lands a square, steel-toed kick in the face of it's predecessors' elitist inclinations, turning the epitomy of empty American consumerism, the shopping mall, into a fucking battleground, replete with firearms and even more fiery personal relations. Sure, sure, it's been done before, most notably by horror-guru George A. Romero in the apolocylptic zombie thriller "Dawn of the Dead." "OAR" eschews the fantastical distancing of that film to bring us, the coddled audience, some profoundly uncomfortable but necessary portraits of the underclass, perpetually pushed down into an American underworld by their economic limitations. Here is a place where cops are criminals and vice versa, where even the genuinely good people are psychologically disturbed in some way. Who, if not the over-commited vigilante Ronnie, is going to make sense of this world, to <span style="font-style: italic;">impose order</span> (albeit his own warped sense of the word)?<br /><br />In this regard, some might be quick to compare "OAR" to "Watchmen," another story about vigilantism run amok. In actuality, it is closer in ideology and narrative construction to "Taken," which also features a lone, hyperviolent white-male protoganist fullfilling the wildest fantasies of the Bush Doctrine. Ronnie is in many ways a caricature of the former president- desperate to reform the world in his image, even if he isn't quite sure how, and lacks many of the necessary socio-political and intellectual skills.<br /><br />What else do we learn from Ronnie's story, other than that it sucks to be white, fat, and blue-collar in modern America? Surely, not a cautionary note against the pursuit or abuse of superficial power. And we cannot really say that Ronnie himself learns anything except that the world is more anarchical than even he might have originally desired.<br /><br />Coming from a philosophical anarchist, I think the ultimate point of "OAR" is that there is something to be said for commitment. There is something to be said for following through on the promises you made to yourself and to others, even if it potentially ruins you in the process. Ronnie's journey isn't one of maturation, self-discovery, or improvement. It might be one of vindication, but I think that's far too simple of an emotion for far too twisted a film. Instead, I propose that within Ronnie's angry, cold, little heart, there remains, throughout all his rejection and failures, a space for self-appraisal. Ronnie can't ever hope to improve unless he proves to himself he is capable of something.<br /><br />Coming in the weeks before my impending college graduation, that's quite a valuable lesson indeed.<br /><br />In Sum: An ill-spirited comedy in the best sense of the term. Seek out, observe, and recieve enlightenment immediately.Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-44072753289709561252009-03-25T20:44:00.008-05:002009-03-28T03:20:52.340-05:00Boy Meets Boy<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LGKUp6EVGCw/Sc3b08cc6CI/AAAAAAAAAEU/pJCb_Kgtfvg/s1600-h/i_love_you_man_movie_image_paul_rudd_and_jason_segel__1_.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LGKUp6EVGCw/Sc3b08cc6CI/AAAAAAAAAEU/pJCb_Kgtfvg/s320/i_love_you_man_movie_image_paul_rudd_and_jason_segel__1_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318148437619566626" border="0" /></a><br />A funny thing about the new Apatow comedy "<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1155056/">I Love You, Man</a>" is that it is not, in fact, directed or produced by Judd Apatow. Judging by the tone of the trailers and the cast members, it really <span style="font-style: italic;">seems</span> like Apatow- the biggest name in comedy in this first decade of the 2000's, must have had <span style="font-style: italic;">something </span>to do with it. It's about the same thing as his other movies- the ridiculousness of modern love, sex, and brotherhood. There's a fair amount of sexually explicit dialogue and at least one Jewish joke, and it's even got a nice close-up shot of up a bong (Although, sadly, nobody declares their intention to fuck it.) Didn't he at least come by the set?<br /><br />But make no mistake, despite any pretenses to the contrary, "I Love You, Man" is most-assuredly not an Apatow film. For one thing, the directorial quality is not nearly as confident or pointed as any of the great A's features. As a matter of fact, it's downright timid- what with liberal use of soundstages and soft, netural lighting. This isn't exactly a surprise, coming from third-time film director John Hamburg(no er!), especially since he's the one who brought us the already forgotten Ben Stiller/Jennifer Aniston rom-com "Along Came Polly." (Checking out his IMDB credits, it looks like his debut "Safe Men" might be fairly worthwhile- but God knows when I'll get to that.)<br /><br />The second, more significant reason that "I Love You, Man" differentiates markedly from the Apatow catalog to-date is that it is a queer comedy. You read right, queer- as in non-heterosexual. It is not a super ironic buddy comedy, not a (and I promise, this is the first and last time I will resort to this grossly-overextended moniker, the late decade's poor replacement for "metrosexual":) "Bromance," not even an ambiguously gay movie, although the two lead actors often seem to be channeling the spirit of a <a href="http://video.yahoo.com/watch/148996">certain acrobatic, animated duo</a>. While Apatow has thus-far remained true to his frat-boy audience and employed only the most timeworn, clumsy, insincere depictions of male homoeroticism in his films for the cheapest of laughs, Hamburg and the "I Love You, Man" company actually go all the way and do a gay romantic comedy. Therefore, the viewer shouldn't think of this project as a sub-par Apatow knock off, but rather, a logical and necessary extrapolation, fuck, maybe even <span style="font-style: italic;">culmination</span>, of his closeted comedy career.<br /><br />Where am I getting this? The film itself makes no secret of its pretense: Paul Rudd plays Peter Klaven, a self-proclaimed "girlfriend-guy" who has managed to go some 30+ years of life without ever developing any close male friends. Once he realizes that this is not nearly as socially acceptable to his stunning new fiance Zooey (Rashida Jones, best known from "The Office") or her friends as it his to him and his family, he decides to embark on a series of, and I quote, "man-dates" to find himself a... what was it again exactly? Best man at his hetero-wedding?<br /><br />Even if this was the innocently stated impetus, we quickly discover how truly lonely and desperate Kraven is for male companionship, going so far as to turn to his openly gay younger brother (Andy Samberg) for help. (Notably, <a href="http://news-service.stanford.edu/pr/95/950310Arc5328.html">research shows</a> that the probability that the brother of a gay man is also gay is about four times higher than normal.) The crux of this whole adventure in boyland rests on the fact that Rudd's Kraven is fundamentally a shy, weird, awkward, and well...<span style="font-style: italic;">queer</span> adult man. We see it in his inability to stand up for himself- to his fiance and her friends when they bash him behind his back, to his mom when she sets him up on a dinner date with a snobby, openly gay architect caricature (Thomas Lennon, the queer and hilarious Lt. Dangle on "Reno 911"), to the loud, muscular Alpha-male strongmen in his life (Lou Ferrigno and Jon Favreau). We see it in his hobbies- he is an avid fencer in an all-men's club (and a good one at that, consistently "out-poking" his more flaccid opponents with his swordpoint), a wannabe cook and an avid fan of the films The Devil Wears Prada and Chocolat. Clearly, if we didn't know about the fantastically-formed woman set to marry him, we would conclude that Peter was pure purple through and through. Even as it is, we cannot help but think that he's at least bi-curious, given his sudden eagerness to go on man-dates the minute he realizes he's getting hitched, for life, to the very embodiment of sexy femininity.<br /><br />And sure, it's easy enough to point to the elementary Freudian symbols- the sword, the corn dog, the guitars (especially the "air" ones). Anyone can twist those around and make them as sexually significant as their particular arguments entail. But <span style="font-style: italic;">combined</span> with the such well-defined or well-summarized personalities, combined with the transparently classical romantic story structure, combined with the very relationships that form the basis of the film, well, then these symbols take on a much greater and focused significance.<br /><br />Just look at how drastically Peter's behavior, initially so meek, inhibited and insulated, changes when he begins his "relationship" with Jason Segel's Sydney. Here is Peter at the first encounter- immediately taken with Sydney's brashness but hesitant to approach- observing the stylish but eccentrically-dressed extrovert from across the room at his open house. Here he is a few days later; anxious, bashful, eagerly awaiting Sydney's call like a high school girl waits on that from her crush. Here he is again and again on the phone with Syndey- nervous; stuttering, stammering, speaking nonsense. And then so delighted after their first night out- drunk, bouncing back and forth on his heels, giant, goofy grin on his face. You get the point. The movie HAMMERS us with it over the head it, making sure we are not dumb enough to make the comparison to every straight love story we've ever seen. But again- we are trained at this point in our filmgoing career to laugh it off- to roll our eyes and shake our heads. It's just a self-aware buddy flick, that's all....Just one where the courtship of one buddy by the other forms the whole first and second acts. Just one where a guy LEAVES his babe of a girlfriend to "have fun" with the guys...with <span style="font-style: italic;">one</span> guy...in his bachelor pad on Venice Beach...with no windows...<br /><br />"Not good enough," you say, "Again, all of these could be deliberate <span style="font-style: italic;">parodies</span> of the development of a straight male friendship, allusions to common cliches of courtship to make us laugh at the conventions of both dating and hanging out." Maybe, I say, no doubt even those involved in the production would use this is a defense. But, I retort, <span style="font-style: italic;">why so many</span>???<br /><br />On a separate, but obviously related note, I would like to put forward the theory of the gradient scale of masculinity at work in "I Love You, Man." The scale goes like this: On one end is the prima-donna architect- the most stereotypically homosexual, i.e. feminine, of the lot. Then comes Peter, the repressed but burgeoning queer, who over the course of the film comes to embrace his "rock'n'roll" masculinity, thereby moving across the scale a few notches. Next is Peter's brother, Samberg's unsuspecting gay body-builder, who has to <span style="font-style: italic;">teach </span>his supposedly straight brother how to make platonic friends. In the middle is Sydney, the swinging bachelor, the "bad-boy" that no woman (or fem) can resist liking, in spite of his reckless and irresponsible ways. It's Syndey, talking crudely and frankly, who gets Peter to open up about his repressed sexuality (we find out that Zooey, for all her physical charms, is not much of a giver when it comes to oral sex, which leaves Peter unfulfilled but still too afraid to communicate, until Syndey drops a not-so obvious innuendo to the entire family at dinner) and yet it is Sydney who owns a small dog, lives alone in a house without windows and alone appreciates the fine hours d'ourves that Peter lays out for his open houses. It's Sydney that jumps to stand up to Lou Ferrigno (the alpha-male at the far end of the scale); Sydney risking his hide for his "friend" Peter. And what of Ferrigno, the some time body builder and "Hulk" actor, never depicted in this film with a love-interest? And the beefy, beer-drinking misogynistic John Favreau character, who talks a little too loudly about his sexual fitness with his wife?<br /><br />Sure, even in a straight reading, it makes sense to include all these guys to show why Peter and Sydney gravitate toward one another. The rest of the male roles are portrayed largely as extremities on the scale, people that are either too feminine or too masculine or just plain too fucking <span style="font-style: italic;">strange</span> to really relate too, let alone form an enduring relationship with. But it makes a lot more sense, and is a helluva lot more interesting, when Peter and Sydney are <span style="font-style: italic;">gay</span>, or at least selectively bisexual. Only then are the characters fully realized as symbols of modern romance, with all of its nuance, confusion and freedom.<br /><br />"You're reading far too much into this," you say, with panicked skepticism. "It's just a cheap, R-rated, Apatow-esque comedy that happens to rely mostly on gay jokes." Potentially, I say once more, and yet even in that case, the biggest joke is on us for being so fucking unreasonably, immaturely uncomfortable about the thought of man on man love.<br /><br />In Sum: A sincerely funny but more importantly, provocative film about relationships- gay, straight, and in-between, as the case may be. Worth seeing in theaters.Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-34076410168605215892009-03-23T12:56:00.010-05:002009-03-23T15:34:41.407-05:00Time keeps on slipping<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LGKUp6EVGCw/ScfwYXkzRwI/AAAAAAAAAEE/LX4-MgU6-9Y/s1600-h/Watchmencharacters.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 188px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LGKUp6EVGCw/ScfwYXkzRwI/AAAAAAAAAEE/LX4-MgU6-9Y/s320/Watchmencharacters.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316482186570057474" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This post isn't about me, per se. It's about the frequently attempted, perpetually postponed, hyper-idealized, bitterly contested fanboy-altar that is WATCHMEN. But before I write about this odd, bold yet unmistakably unwieldy beast of a film, I have to write a few words about myself.<br /><br />Firstly, I am a Watchmen fanboy. I am a film geek. But I haven't but updating this blog with anywhere close to the frequency that I did when I first began it in the Autumn of 2007. At that time, I was third-year University student (junior) enrolled in the Magazine Journalism program, and I thought I wanted to become a professional movie critic.<br /><br />I am now, in the Spring of 2009, just a few weeks shy of my graduation, slated to receive a Bachelor of Arts in Magazine Journalism and another in Religious Studies, and all that I know is that I want to write.<br /><br />The American college experience is supposed to change one's life markedly, at least as far as the price-tag goes. And indeed, I can evaluate my four college years as being some of the most profound, entertaining, and altogether wonderful years of my life. I have been blessed to have a supportive group of educators and more importantly, good friends, whom have taught me much about the life, the world, and myself. I know for instance that reviewing or following movies as a profession would be fun, but not if I have to "sell-out" and write in a disingenuously-flattering or over-simplified way.<br /><br />Type type type! Get to the point, right? What does this have to do with Watchmen? I read the original Watchmen graphic novel as a junior, a few posts into my self-proclaimed "introspective movie reviews" blog. Although I read a good number of comics growing up thanks to the influence of my cousins, I didn't discover the work of Alan Moore until I was at university. (I'm not going to get into the graphic novel vs. comic debate here, but sufficed to say, I often use the terms interchangeably, although I recognize why some people maintain a firm distinction)<br /><br />Well before I had connected Moore to Watchmen, I had read reports on AICN, CHUD, and all the other film news that I check consistently about its potential development as a film. First it was Terry Gilliam who had tried to make it in the 80's, as I recall. Then it was Aronofsky, then Greengrass, etc. etc. ad nasuem. Then there was time putting Watchmen on it's list of the 100 greatest novels of 20th century, the sole graphic-novel. My interest was sufficiently piqued. Why was this title so difficult to translate to the screen?<br /><br />I had to read it for myself, of course. So I went back to the library, procured a copy and although it would be cool to say I read it in a single sitting, I did not- instead I read it over a few nights span in the Winter of 2007/08, during my break from school. When I finished, my life was changed. I never anticipated a comic-book to be able to affect me in the Watchmen did. M(o)ore importantly, I never anticipated a comic-book to be written the way that Watchmen was- with so much character development, background and historical commentary. I was surprised and delighted to discover Moore had taken the time to include material <span style="font-style: italic;">written by the characters themselves</span> in the book. But it was the underlying ideology that really struck with me. This effort to humanize the characters, to humanize the story, to put it in the same world as we live in, where nations are the only things that are considered "superpowered," and all of our role models have some skeletons in their closets. This effort to include moral, philosophical and psychological complexity, this is what I truly admired the most.<br /><br />SPOILER ALERT<br /><br />Before I saw the film, I thought about ways to quickly summarize Watchmen for people who hadn't read it. Like that website that does one sentence movie reviews. A foolhardy endeavor, to be sure, but one that I engaged in for some moments nonetheless. I came up with a few possibilities: "Superheroes age and discover that their biggest enemy is within themselves." That sounded nice, except it neglected Veidt's role as the conspiratorial mastermind. "Aging superheroes fight internal struggles while attempting to uncover a worldwide conspiracy." What about the cold war? The whole American experience angle, the dashed American Dream? The parallel history? "In an alternate 1986, costumed American heroes are real, but the combination of their conflicted personalities and Cold War anxiety has rendered them outcasts. As nuclear war between the USSR and the USA seems more and more inevitable, one hero's mysterious murder propels those remaining back into action to uncover a global conspiracy." Ugh. It is impossible, you see? Watchmen cannot be effectively summarized- or at least I have yet to see one. Definitely creates problems for pitching the screenplay.<br /><br />But that was never the problem, really. Everyone in Hollywood WANTED to make Watchmen. So many people tried and failed. All along, Alan Moore kept his distance, raining criticism every cinematic adaptation of his work from his mystical retreat in England. And why shouldn't he? "LXG" was a notorious flop, and will be eternally remembered as such. "From Hell," totally forgettable. "V for Vendetta," the only one to recieve some critical and popular praise, was still santized and trimmed and dumbed down for the masses. Moore was well in his rights to be dead-set against a Watchmen adaptation.<br /><br />Finally, Zach Synder came along, remade "Dawn of the Dead" and suprised everyone when it turned out to be actually pretty good. Even more stunning was "300," a "niche," "fanboy," call-it-what-you-will-to-make-it-sound-less-mainstream comic book adaptation that made some $70 mil its opening weekend. As for as movie execs and most American moviegoers were concerned, Snyder was 3 for 2 at that point- a "rookie" director on an impossible winning streak. Why the fuck not take on the most daunting of projects, the "un-adaptable" Watchmen? Why not?<br /><br />Well, now, on Monday, March 23 we have the answer. Believe me, I was hoping that the Watchmen film would be great. Everything I read about the production indicated to me that Snyder and Co. were doing the title do-justice, recreating locations, scenes and characters in excruciating detail. Fuck, they even had the original illustrator Dave Gibbons on board. I wanted everyone, from fanboys to my mother (ok, maybe not her, but point made) to go into the theater and be absolutely blown away by the literary grandeur and sheer inventiveness of Watchmen. I wanted everyone to feel in their bones, in their soul, that Watchmen was the greatest story about comic superheroes that has ever been told, because that's how I felt when I read the book.<br /><br />Of course, I was let down. It didn't happen the way it should have- not to me, not to anyone. Nobody left the theater after the film thinking "that was one of the most awe-inspiring, brilliant things I've ever seen." Even the fanboys like myself just had to internally justify the cheesy dialogue, the slapstick violence, the pornographic sexuality, and all while we were watching the film for the first time. Nothing about the film conveyed any literary merit whatsoever. What happened? What went wrong? Did Alan Moore's curses really work?<br /><br />Maybe. But the bottom line that the direction wasn't good. Yes, it was lots of word-for-word dialogue and narration from the book. Yes, the filmmakers were careful to convey the tone of dread, angst and loathing, and, where appropriate, love, appreciation and reconciliation. But it just didn't ring <span style="font-style: italic;">true</span>. Characters, set pieces, situations themselves were played for their sheer, comical outlandishness rather than for their unsettling strangeness and earnest, complex emotion.<br /><br />I thought the point of the Watchmen graphic-novel was to anchor superheroes in reality, though not in the same way that "The Dark Knight" anchored Batman to the streets of a gritty, mob-infested version of Chicago. No, the Watchmen graphic novel was so good because in anchored superheroes to the reality of the human mind- to the fact that there are psychological motivations in all for us for fighting, sacrificing, seeking attention and simultaneously masking our true selves from the world.<br /><br />You don't have to have your parents killed in an ally to want justice for criminals, for instance. All it takes is <span style="font-style: italic;">being alive</span> in the world to know that it's fucked up, and that somebody should do something about it. Moreover, in being alive for some years, most people learn that most things, including the most important things, are beyond their control. And yet, the human potential for creativity, for accomplishment, is surprisingly unlimited- especially when it is least expected. This is a curious, profoundly vexing dichotomy to recognize, and it is expressed nowhere better than in the original Watchmen.<br /><br />Maybe I demand too much of my films. Maybe I demand too much of the people making them, or, more probably, people in general. After all, we are profoundly limited and powerless so much of the time. But watching the Watchmen film on that opening Thursday night at midnight, my girlfriend and I both off to the far left side of the screen because the theater was so packed with people in my demographic (20s, college, geek), I couldn't help but imagine what it could have been. Imagine a dark, gritty, "Se7en"ish Watchmen directed by David Fincher. Or a profoundly intellectual and artistic one by Aronofsky. Or a raw, unflinching one by Danny Boyle. I wanted a Watchmen with gray and white and shiny metal tones, with slow, deliberate close ups and meditative long shots, with an original weird, bubbly and minimalistic synth-orchestra soundtrack. I wanted it to be a subtle, heavy, introspective mystery as opposed to a slick, light, action/adventure. I wanted my Watchmen to be so <span style="font-style: italic;">uncool</span> it was cool, rather than the reverse.<br /><br />I understand what Alan Moore is so paranoid about, because now I'm paranoid about the same things. Yeah, sure, you can try and make something that appeals to a bunch of different people, to society at large. But in the end, unless you are doing what you are doing for you, without regard for what other people will think, its not going to be very good. That's why I resumed writing on this blog- For me. I had stopped because I was discouraged and disenchanted with my professional experiences trying to review film. Everyone who I saw succeeding was doing so at the cost of authenticity and originality. The Watchmen film suffered from precisely this problem- trying to remain loyal and yet appeal to everyone and their mother.<br /><br />At least it was about as long as I expected, which is still shorter than this post.<br /><br />In Sum: A monumental effort at adapting an epic piece of fiction, but a wholly misguided and ultimately futile one. Irony abounds.Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-62361348343215292782008-12-22T02:03:00.003-06:002008-12-22T02:26:38.642-06:00Bah Slumbug!<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1010048/">Slumdog Millionaire</a> is this year's <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0317248/">City of God</a>. Think about it: Both films are about male-pair relationships (best friends/brothers), set in filthy, crime-ridden slums on the outskirts of rapidly modernizing cities (Rio/Mumbai) and shot on location. In either case, the more ambitious of the male protagonists end up falling in with the criminal set. In fact, even the ethically-bound characters are often depicted doing illegal things to survive, mostly petty theft. The films are similarly tragic throughout, although they end on highly triumphant notes. They even have suspiciously analogous openings:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1115RRGCv40&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1115RRGCv40&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/RoNATPsOsZk&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RoNATPsOsZk&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />Which is better? See them both, and you tell me...it's a tough call, for sure.Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-62671475472717131182008-11-14T22:04:00.002-06:002008-11-14T22:09:22.472-06:00James BlandFuck Marc Forster.<br />I just returned home a short while ago after falling asleep in the latest James Bond entry. Sucked. Basically a sub-par <span style="font-style: italic;">Bourne </span>film, and those are already suspect to begin with (Pun intended, douches). It was just a bunch of confusing action sequences scattered atop a melodramatic, shallow, derivative screenplay. Fuck Paul Haggis, too. But you already knew that.Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-28906388948388991212008-09-16T23:13:00.003-05:002008-09-16T23:39:01.221-05:00Crazy ConnectionsI watched my first episode of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1119644/">Fringe</a> tonight, which was the second in the series. In case you hadn't heard about it yet, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1119644/">Fringe</a> is the newest brainchild of Lost creator J.J. Abrams. Essentially, It looks to be a series about a mad U.S. government scientist, his offspring (intentionally vague word choice here), and the Agent assigned to investigate their shit. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fringe">Wikipedia describes it</a> as a cross between the X-Files, the Twilight Zone and one of my favorite movies, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0080360/">Altered States</a>. My roommate Brian said it was more like CSI combined with Lost and the X-Files.<br />I used to be a devout viewer of Abrams earlier sexy-spy series Alias, where Jennifer Garner faced up against some imaginative, increasingly paranormal adversaries (like clones and ancient inventions). And cf course, Lost is all about the sci-fi. Fringe recycles central elements of both shows, both plot wise (dangerous, futuristic science experiments, sinister<span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"><span class="on" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_CreateLink" title="Link" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 8);ButtonMouseDown(this);"></span></span> megacorporations, questionable government intervention etc. etc.) and structurally (lots of serious-sounding psychobabble for dialogue, tense music, frequent cliffhangers) to tell a pretty interesting new story. Besides, let's face it, the world could always use some more <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0090305/">Weird Science.</a> I'll probably watch it fairly regularly, for a while.<br />What struck me initially in tonight's episode was a character with a rapidly accelerated, out of control aging process that caused him to grow from a fetus to an old, dead corpse in less than a day or so. It seemed loosely similar to Brad Pitt's character's reversed-aging process (he's born as an old man) in the forthcoming film <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Curious_case_of_benjamin_button">The Curious Case of Benjamin Button</a>. It is directed by David Fincher, who directed Pitt in Se7en and Fight Club. As such, it <a href="http://www.aintitcool.com/node/37904">looks cool. </a><br />But I subsequently recalled a potentially awesome George Clooney project called <a href="http://www.cinematical.com/2008/05/16/why-does-george-clooney-stare-at-goats/">Men Who Stare at Goats</a>, which is based on a book about a U.S. army division that tried to make things explode using their minds, among other things.<br />Of course, Clooney and Pitt are butt-buddies from their Ocean's 11 days, and from the new, sadistically humorous blackmailfail comedy Burn After Reading.<br />Do I smell a trend? Hollywood tackles issues of mortality and corporate responsibility via pulpy sci-fi? A comment on all the Hurricane Ike, global-warming business that's been going in real life? Are the designer pharmaceutical ads that accompany the telecast intentional? For now, you decide. Stay tuned for more clues...Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-61247092660919301712008-05-22T15:09:00.008-05:002008-05-24T05:21:09.962-05:00Whip it Goode<span style="font-weight: bold;">Well, I’m summering in London for school credit. I still plan on reviewing new films as they are released here, but since my class has just recently started up I’ve been quite busy with dense reading assignments. As such, I present guest-blogger </span>Saul Goode’s<span style="font-weight: bold;"> review of one of the summer’s most hyped films:</span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"> Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">As a forewarning, Saul has practiced </span><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trepanning">trepanning</a><span style="font-weight: bold;"> on himself, so his opinions should be taken with some discretion.....</span><br /><br /> Never having seen any of the other films featuring adventurer, archeologist, and entertainer Hannah-Montana Jones, I was a little apprehensive about going to see The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. Still, all my friends seemed to be excited about it, and I do love me some historical hijinks, so into the theater I went. 14 dollars and 80 cents (7 pounds, 40 pence) later, I am pleased to report that my skepticism was utterly unfounded: this film is absolutely astounding. There has never been anything quite like it before, except <span style="font-style: italic;">American Graffiti, Grease, The Mummy, Tarzan, Apocalypto, Transformers, Independence Day</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">Fern Gully</span>, but all of those movies rule as it is so just imagine them combined!<br /><br />Lucas and Spielberg have finally done it- they’ve come together like two long lost lovers and created the most beautiful, remarkable child the world has ever seen, besides maybe Jesus. Any bad feelings you might have had about the Star Wars prequels will completely vanish once you finish watching this movie. Your head will be so full of wonderful thoughts and images, like clouds of gunpowder and refrigerators flying through the air. You won’t even mind that the movie doesn’t explain some things all the way. The ambiguity in the story is fun! It’s a mystery and a comedy and a videogame combined! There are also lots of animals for the kids: gophers and monkeys and ants and long rubbery snakes and aliens and fearsome indigenous natives who live inside of stone walls.<br /><br />Some people might complain that there is lots of CGI, but don’t pay attention to them. It all adds to the fun of the movie. That’s the part that makes it seem kind of video-gamey and cool and hip. Every set looks like it was made for a high school play, but at a really rich school.<br />Instead of taking place in the boring real world with real people, the movie is set in it’s own alternative cartoony world with characters who act funny and amusing and crazy all the time. But that’s not to say that there aren’t any parts that are touching. There are some very important family revelations and instances of real affection that help to balance out all the happy fun and excitement. As they say in this industry; “you’ll laugh, you’ll cry, and you won’t want to leave with the flying saucers!”<br /><br />What about Harrison Ford and Shia LeBouf you ask? Well, in the first place, Ford totally embodies the ancient history professor turned committed babysitter. He’s kind of like Elisabeth Shue in Adventures in Babysitting in that he’s the oldest one in the movie, he’s willing to go to great lengths to protect his motley crew, and he’s a romantic at heart. Meanwhile, Shia LeLebouf does a good job inhabitating the rebellious greaser badass, also with a heart (and hair full) of gold. For comparison, my friend Michelle cleverly suggested the film The Outsiders. I think Shia was channeling the great Emilio Estevez, to fantastic effect, I might add.<br /><br />You would think that a movie this action-packed and zany would fly by, but again, <span style="font-style: italic;">Kingdom of the Crystal Meth</span> is actually really lengthy and epic. The movie starts with a literal bang and although it kind of takes some breathers in the middle, the ending is truly a sight to behold. It’s “out of this world” in more ways than one, and I apologize if that is a spoiler to anyone. But seriously, IJATKOCKS is super KICKASS.<br /><br />Basically, it’s comparable to the spending the whole day in one of those<a href="http://en.huaxiatoys.com/newEbiz1/EbizPortalFG/portal/html/CategoryList.html?ProductMultiCategoryPicker210_action=Searchcategory&ProductPicker_action=Searchcategory&CategoryID=c373e914a21ab81f8feac5005de9d68c&time=1192697434906&gclid=CPHdu7vxupMCFQ6n1QodumqACw"> <span style="text-decoration: underline;">in</span></a><a href="http://en.huaxiatoys.com/newEbiz1/EbizPortalFG/portal/html/CategoryList.html?ProductMultiCategoryPicker210_action=Searchcategory&ProductPicker_action=Searchcategory&CategoryID=c373e914a21ab81f8feac5005de9d68c&time=1192697434906&gclid=CPHdu7vxupMCFQ6n1QodumqACw">flatable “moon” bounce boxes</a>- only it’s on fire, and slowly burning to the ground around you.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">-1 out of 10.</span><br /><br />-S.G.Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-28385759457045834972008-05-01T09:52:00.002-05:002008-05-01T10:15:05.736-05:00BatmAnime Begins!Having trouble waiting for Bruce Wayne to bust out the Bat again on July 18 in <span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0468569/">The Dark Knight</a>? Wish you had something to tide you over for the final 10 days? Coming to the rescue on July 8 is <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1117563/">Batman: Gotham Knight</a>, with fan-favorite Kevin Conroy as the voice of anime Batman. (Batmanime?) Here's <a href="http://www.voxmagazine.com/stories/2008/05/01/animation-variations/">my explanation </a>of this for VOX Magazine.Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-28606824236586111502008-04-25T19:03:00.008-05:002008-04-26T20:40:34.115-05:00Second-Hand SmokeIt was probably a bit naive of me to expect <span style="font-style: italic;">Harold and Kumar: Escape from Guantanamo Bay </span>to be equally as good, if not better than its unexpectedly sharp predecessor. Paying for <span style="font-style: italic;">Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle</span> (2004) was like buying a bag of middies, only to find out that it was laced with something extra; fresh, vivid social satire on top of simple comedic green. The re-up has a similar but less potent formula, one that doesn't completely <a href="http://blog.wired.com/defense/2008/04/smoking-weed-ca.html">fail to do the job</a>, but never quite produces the same kind of giddy, fits-of-laughter-high as the first.<br /><br />This biggest problem for me was probably the scope of the plot. The original film was a clever skewering of the road comedy from a tetrahydrocannabinol-aficiando's perspective, with every distance, commute time and minor inconvenience hilariously, accurately exaggerated due to the effects of the drug. All the action was tightly-wound, contained in a radius of some 50 square miles in western New Jersey, an area aptly served by the minimalistic sets and low-budget special effects of the production.<br /><br />The unremarkable, hedonistic goals of the protagonists were played brilliantly to opposite effect; taking on a kind of soaring, idyllic significance that seemed strangely more honest and realistic than most films "based on a true story." Harold Lee and Kumar Patel came off as refreshingly unpretentious, unsung American heroes championing humble, individual happiness and friendship amidst a social climate of ignorance, intolerance and just plain strangeness. An unforgettable cameo by then-closeted Neil Patrick Harris of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0460649/">television</a> <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0096569/">fame</a>, in which he plays a despicably narcissistic, strung-out version of himself, helped to balance and moderate the titular duo's singular desires. In its entirety, the film was perhaps more important for cannabis-decriminalization efforts than it's clear-cut ancestor, the seminal <span style="font-style: italic;">Cheech and Chong</span>-series. Where that similarly ethnic duo were from the get-go stereotypical parodies of unhygenic, unambitious simpleminded drug-users, Harold and Kumar were able to confront the image of intelligent, affluent "model minority" figures without losing any dignity in the process. Even the shameless commercialism of the film's title and ultimate destination, burger-chain White Castle, worked well to this end- validating the lifestyle habits of young, urban, pot-smoking American professionals. (YUPPPIES)<br /><br />But that was four years ago, at least as far as we in the audience are concerned. (The new film begins minutes after the old one ended, an issue that doesn't ever really get addressed as thoroughly as it should within the context of the narrative). Now we have Harold and Kumar embarking on a more cliche cross country voyage of redemption and self-discovery, away from the worst place you could possibly be when under the influence of drugs; the American military prison at Guantanamo Bay.<br /><br />This aspect of the plot alone suggests a more pointed, mature and smarter film, but sadly, that's not the case. With the exception of a few vague statements about the implied hypocrisy of the American federal government and Americans in-general, <span style="font-style: italic;">Escape from Guantanamo Bay</span> is mostly preoccupied with crassness and vulgarity. Generally, these are welcome forces in any film if used discerningly, and while <span style="font-style: italic;">Escape from Guantanamo Bay</span> takes a more scattershot approach, for the most part the comedy is spot on.<br /><br />Watching Neil Patrick Harris eat mushrooms and drink a fifth of Jack-Daniels whiskey while driving through a roadside police-checkpoint is just one of the many small delights in this vein. Another is James Adomian's masterful George W. Bush impersonation. The 28 year old gives the president an endearing, everyman quality. Bush appears as a fun-loving, irresponsible heir struggling to live up to his strict father's high standards, a schtick we've seen before, but one that has rarely seemed as plausible or as acceptable as presented by Adomian.<br /><br />Unequivocally, my favorite moment of the film, was a scene where a flamboyantly dressed Harold and Kumar end up driving a flashy yellow convertible into a predominantly black, rural Alabaman neighborhood. A bunch of intimidatingly large young men are playing a game of basketball in the street, blocking our heroes path to safety. Harold attempts to turn around only to back the car into a fire-hydrant, sending a spout of water into the air and over the ground, where it spreads to the basketball game. Things go from bad to worse, as they often do when stoned people attempt to correct their errors, but I hesitate to go into further specifics for fear of ruining the scene for prospective viewers. You may imagine, however, what it would be like to be in even the situation described above, and already the comedic possibilities seem quite bountiful.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Escape from Guantanamo Bay</span>'s bounty of unsophisticated humor is not enough, though, to overlook some of the weaker aspects of the production; namely, the script, which leans too heavily on the structure of it's forebear, and the expanded setting, for which cheap-special effects and minimalist sets seem too artificial to be representative of reality, even in an allegorical sense. The climax of the film is copied almost directly from <span style="font-style: italic;">Wedding Crashers </span>(2005), an unfortunate choice since it invites an invariable comparison to that film, in which it also comes up short.<br /><br />And yet, despite all of it's missed opportunity and uninspired riffs on <span style="font-style: italic;">Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle<span style="font-style: italic;">, </span>Escape from Guantanamo Bay</span> is tough not to like, at least a little bit. The uptight Harold and easygoing Kumar win you over with their disarming charm, wit and mettle. They are eternal underdogs whose fortunes alternate constantly between the ridiculously terrible and the impossibly fantastic. Up and down the American social ladder they go, encountering a variety of characters obviously designed to evoke Homer's epic <span style="font-style: italic;">The Odyssey, <span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span>which might even be a deliberate crack at the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stoned_ape_theory">state of mind</a> of such canonical writers. But even if this is not the case, the film is a fine example of the entertainment value of it's subgenre: the Stoner-Comedy.<br /><br />In Sum:<br />My friend Erik astutely gauged the film at 75% of the original, a number that coincides quite well with my viewing experience, although I'd probably even lower that number to 70%. But as Jim Morrison once said: "The most important kind of freedom is to be what you really are," and no one could fault either of the <span style="font-style: italic;">Harold and Kumar </span>pictures for being just that. See the sequel if you liked the first, or even if didn't catch it, as this is a fun night out for anyone who can stomach gratuitous nudity and foul language.Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-60501732917281369392008-04-10T01:27:00.003-05:002008-04-10T01:30:56.738-05:00Take Two<a href="http://www.voxmagazine.com/stories/2008/04/10/take-two-nims-island/">Here's </a>a similar but shorter review of <span style="font-style: italic;">Nim's Island</span> that I wrote for <a href="http://www.voxmagazine.com/">Vox Magazine,</a> the local arts and culture rag. They rate films on a 5-"V" scale (analogous to stars). I gave it two "V's."Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-35336056208419272522008-04-07T23:43:00.005-05:002008-04-09T12:48:53.364-05:00The Rats of NimIt's would be easy to dismiss <span style="font-style: italic;">Nim's Island</span> as a run-of-the mill live-action children's comedy, along the lines of <span style="font-style: italic;">Max Keeble </span>or <span style="font-style: italic;">Agent Cody Banks</span>, except for a few key moments when the madcap trouble-in-paradise gives way to a staunch message of environmental activism. How timely! Nim could have been a bold new, blatantly environmentally conscious youth role-model, yet despite some tantalizing steps in this direction, the narrative of the film is ultimately concerned with a few very self-centered human quests.<br /><br />Not having read the novel, I cannot authoritatively blame this squandered potential on the filmmakers (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0280814/">Jennifer Flackett and </a><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0505662/">Mark Levin</a>, a bona-fide husband-and-wife pair, at least for now.) But damn, with the high number of recurring animal characters, the avid interest in science expressed by the lead human characters, and the idealistic tropical-island sets, it seems like someone had to go out of their way to keep the film from being the <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0104254/">Fern-Gully </a>of the early 21st century.<br /><br />As it plays in theaters right now across the country, the film isn't even all that terrible or vacuous. It deals with issues that any child would find weighty, such as the death and imperilment of parents, and the impending loss of a home. Less serious are Nim's subtle, cautious first steps towards romance. Fortunately, Abigail Breslin is highly-capable of taking on the role of the precocious young bookworm and adventurer, and by extension, it is her that ends up carrying the majority of the film. While many comic-book geeks (including myself) were frustrated to learn that Gerard Butler was continuing his <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0431308/">post-300 sabbatical from gruesome violence</a> for this picture, playing the dual role of Nim's brainy Dad and Indiana-Jones ripoff Alex Rover, one cannot deny his commitment to the part. His performance exudes charm and contagious energy, and if the viewer squints, Butler could almost be mistaken for Sean Connery in his prime.<br /><br />Then we come to Jodie Foster- the wildcard- she's made her name as a dramatic actress in thrillers...and here she is playing the comedic role of a timid, agoraphobic, o.c.d. novelist. It's not that she lacks the ability to play against type; it's whether viewers will accept it. As an attendee of a screening filled with mostly mothers and young children, I can report that Foster's performance not only went over well with the intended audience, but that she was actually in danger of stealing lead Breslin's thunder. Foster's routine consists of mostly crude slapstick and stereotyping, but that's all that is required of her, as the script makes her character the clumsy victim of virtually every situation. She does display an amazing range of physical movement, but make no mistake, Jim Carrey she is not.<br /><br />The problems with <span style="font-style: italic;">Nim's Island</span> don't stem from the acting or the straightforward directing style. Rather, they are the result of a criminally unrealized concept and a poorly paced screenplay. The movie clocks in at what should be a very endurable 96 minutes, but begins to drag noticeably during the second half. Situations that should be resolved in a few scenes extend until the conclusion of the film, which comes about abruptly and anti-climatically. The end is so predictable and sloppy, actually, that it undermines almost everything clever about the rest of the story.<br /><br />The worst offense of all in <span style="font-style: italic;">Nim's Island</span> is that it actually comes near to subverting its' own fundamentally <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Green">green</a> message. The titular paradise exists as a playhouse for the humans who call it home, and seems to have no purpose outside of catering to their desires. When Nim attempts to prevent a bunch of cruisegoers from descending upon her shores, the effort seems oddly selfish, far less noble than it should, which is perhaps to be expected from a spoiled only child. Yet still, we deserve more than the expected. That's part of the reasons films are worth watching the first place, because they are surprising, exciting and fresh. If <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span>Nim's </span>had brought anything new to the table, if it had delivered even slightly more on its' own environmental inclinations, I might be able to recommend it. But as its cut right now, this film is no more enjoyable than a Disney Channel made for TV movie, and only slightly better acted and produced.<br /><br />In Sum: Even though the premise seemed to promise something special, <span style="font-style: italic;">Nim's Island</span> is barely more than a recycling of tired cliches played out by some very talented actors. The result is nothing short of disappointing, although it is not substantially worse than most films for kids. Save your money and see this one on TV, if at all.Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-43360611480442738762008-03-28T22:58:00.003-05:002008-03-28T23:20:00.719-05:00Linky<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blog_carnival">Blog carnivals</a><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blog_carnival"> </a>are cool. If you are a blogger/blog-reader (which you should be, if you're reading this) I recommend you <a href="http://blogcarnival.com/bc/">check this site out.</a> Thanks to <a href="http://www.stevepavlina.com/blog/2006/05/how-to-make-money-from-your-blog/">Steve Pavlina</a> for the tip. As a result, my post on "Be Kind Rewind" has been featured in The "Good News Film Reviews" Blog about halfway down the page in <a href="http://www.goodnewsfilmreviews.com/2008/03/carnival-of-cinema-episode-68.html">this week's edition, number 68</a>.Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-9907614721636350482008-03-11T14:30:00.021-05:002008-12-09T16:47:40.085-06:00School of Heart-Knocks<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0nQtLUo0OkU"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0nQtLUo0OkU" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0nQtLUo0OkU"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0nQtLUo0OkU" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://imdb.com/title/tt0799934/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LGKUp6EVGCw/R-m5TBPjx3I/AAAAAAAAABo/jge-MVERdEk/s320/be-kind-rewind.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181876582668814194" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0nQtLUo0OkU"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LGKUp6EVGCw/R-m4lRPjx2I/AAAAAAAAABg/wfSoWxM9Sf8/s320/l_dc61f4d044185e3f295fcee05581fdab.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181875796689799010" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />A few weeks ago I was introduced to <a href="http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.wordpress.com/">this hilarious blog</a> by my friend John (Props again for the tip, Jilmes). For those too lazy to click the link and look at it, it's called "Stuff White People Like," and it's basically just a consistently growing, numbered list of exactly what the title describes, although the posts I've read suggest a more precise subject, namely; white, urban, intellectual Americans as opposed to "white people" in general. But bearing in mind this clarification, it is actually unsettlingly accurate, and especially witty. The titular "stuff," includes everything from clothing (Shorts) to mainstream cultural icons (Barack Obama) to behaviors (standing still at concerts), even ideas and beliefs (knowing what's best for poor people). According to the archives, the blog has only been active since January of this year, but it updates frequently, and is, at the time of this post, on entry number 91: San Fransisco.<br /><br />Numbers <a href="http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.wordpress.com/2008/02/17/68-michel-gondry/">68</a> and <a href="http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.wordpress.com/2008/02/17/69-mos-def/">69</a> are Michel Gondry and Mos Def, respectively. And both posts were up just in time for the release of "Be Kind Rewind,"which is more than can be said for this blog. By now, most cinephiles have either seen the film themselves or have casually dismissed it based on the kooky previews, the lackluster reviews, or perhaps the presence of pudgy, musical funnyman Jack Black.<br /><br />Well let me be the first to tell anyone in the latter category that they fucked up. Big mistake, not catching this one. Although "Stuff White People Like," lampoons the fact that the film is tailor-made for white people, featuring two of their most beloved entertainers, the irony is that the film is actually about a place affluent whites avoid for the most part, before the mixed-race leads begin remaking Hollywood blockbusters, and in the process, remake their entire community. But that's probably saying too much too soon. The most important thing a skeptic has keep in mind about "Be Kind Rewind," is that it is a work of far more substance than the mainstream press would have one believe.<br /><br />Superficially the most accessible Gondry movie to date, featuring crowd favorites Danny Glover and Mia Farrow, in addition to Black, Def, and the superb but mostly unknown Melonie Diaz, "Be Kind Rewind," retains the trademark Gondry "whimsy," that fans have come to love and expect. By this I mean the director's inspired use of random, commonplace materials like cardboard and tin foil to create wondrous props and sets. This film abounds with them, including an awesome scene where Black and Def's characters are breaking into a power plant and must hide from the police using some very effective camouflage. But unlike previous Gondry works, many of his creations are deliberately played for their comedic value, and indeed, it is impossible not to break into a smile when they appear onscreen. I would go as far as to say that, despite my affinity for Jack Black's antics, the main source of humor is largely Gondry himself, who wisely uses his takes to pepper the film with a continuous stream of ever-evolving visual gags. The result is that the viewer is constantly on the edge of his or her seat, awaiting the next distinct Gondry piece, which is sure to be better than the last.<br /><br />But the most pleasant surprise is that "Be Kind Rewind," transcends beyond well the promised fun and the laughter. Keeping it's entirely unbelievable premise afloat (the best solution for a video shop full of erased films is to...recreate them using a camcorder?) are several metaconflicts regarding race, capitalism, community and the art of filmmaking in general. What starts as a one note joke about Hollywood's penchant for remakes becomes a thoroughly touching exploration of relationships that most of us take for granted; the relationship between an artist and an artwork, between a video-store clerk and his clients, between that store and the neighborhood in which it resides, between a people and their history.<br /><br />It comes as no great shock to the viewer when the amateur remakes created by Black, Def and their ragtag crew of supporters end up being more popular with their customers than the originals, but what is shocking is how hungry all those people are for something earnest, something that they can feel connected to, even if it is short, unpolished and illegal. Leaving "Be Kind Rewind," the viewer has a sense that Gondry gets what this digital mass-movement is all about, why You-Tube and music piracy are so popular, and what has been missing from all the big studio productions. On one level, the film recognizes the destructive potential of these powerful new forces, showing how the tiny video-shop carrying only VHS is relentlessly, remorselessly squeezed by the giant, cutting-edge, corporate apparatus. But at the same time, consumer technology is a godsend, presenting the protagonists not only the opportunity to save their humble little business, but with the potential to express their own creativity, vision and heart. And so they do, relentlessly and remorselessly, to our great pleasure.<br /><br />Part of the reason I waited so long to post this review was because I wanted to first see another film that I (accurately) predicted would be it's kindred spirit. A few recent graduates and at least one drop-out of the school I attend, the University of Missouri-Columbia, came together a year or so ago to make their own independent film based on their college careers. The fascinating result is a Judd Apatow-esque comedy that will be touring college campuses around the U.S. for the next few months, so if you're a student or live near a university, be on the look out for <a href="http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendID=181671229">"Box Elder."</a><br /><br />Now, the storyline of the film is utterly simplistic; four college guys attempt to graduate while frequently indulging in the typical hedonistic pleasures associated with American higher education, i.e. drink, drug and sex, but what made the film such a hit among audiences in the area was just that- it was shot in the area, with actors who knew the community and the kind of lives its' members were living. Well, that, and the spectacularly funny dialog, which comes close, no joke, to rivaling that spewed by Vince Vaughn.<br /><br />Hearing informal reviews of this film piqued my interest well beyond that of any typical Hollywood release, but actually watching it, sitting in the newly constructed community theater, <a href="http://www.ragtagfilm.com/">the Ragtag</a>, with two of my roommates, i.e. my college-family, on either side of me, well, it was a strange and wonderful experience unlike any I've ever had at the movies. I felt joy and amusement and excitement of course, but more than this, I felt like I were looking in a funhouse mirror, seeing my own distorted reflection and that of my companions. It made me feel self-conscious, small, thoughtful, and moved, but not in some sappy, brief, forced way. No, "Box Elder," moved me to think about my own life and the choices I've made, and that's a rare quality in my moviegoing.<br /><br />We are told many people go to films to escape their lives, their problems, the terrible real issues that are occupying their worlds, and yet there is something within all of us, I think, that rejects this notion. As a viewer, the films that stay with me the longest, the films I love most, are those that speak to something inside of me, something that I've done or felt or wanted. And that's not to say that escapist films don't have their place. I just think that above all, what a good film does is speak to it's audience in a way that they appreciate, in a way that respects their experiences, in a way that makes them think about what it's like to be human. So see "Box Elder," if you get the chance, and see "Be Kind Rewind," when you get the chance, and if you're really lucky like me, you'll get to see one within a few days of the other, and then, I'm sure, we will have much more to talk about. Or just refer to the <a href="http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.wordpress.com/full-list-of-stuff-white-people-like/">list</a>.<br /><br />In Sum:<br />"Be Kind Rewind," just might be Gondry's most important film to date. It certainly aims the highest. "Box Elder," is not to be missed, seek it out and be delighted. Both films speak to the inherent value of independent, amateur filmmaking, and let's face it, we don't see that message enough.Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-35277128566650216192008-02-24T13:29:00.008-06:002008-02-25T00:37:01.160-06:00Make Step...Up YoursWhat does it say about the disconnect between the general public and film critics when "Step-Up 2 The Streets," is the number three most popular movie in America, while the Best Picture front runners languish at the bottom of the the top ten, or completely below it? Personally, I don't read too much into this disparity- as it's really just analogous to music. Nobody with anything approaching a refined music sensibility has anything good to say about "Crank Dat Soulja Boy," but for the past few months it's been played constantly, everywhere, by everyone (although, ironically, not even a snippet was included in "Step Up 2.")<br /><br />Innumerable essays have been written on the curious distance between that which is declared by a certain, classically-informed elite to be "good," and what the people celebrate. Sometimes the two coincide, to be certain, as was the case with the 1997 best picture winner "Titanic," or the 1995 Palme-D'Or recipient and contemporary-crime legend "Pulp Fiction." But more often than not, the public gravitates towards art which is blunt, unpretentious and accessible. We like the semblance of authenticity here in the United States. Even if we're being shilled products and made to feel inadequate in our looks, our love and our life, we'll swallow it so long as it remains quasi-honest and identifiable, playing on universal conflicts and emotions, like, of course, feelings of inadequacy.<br /><br />That makes it sound as though "Step Up 2" is one long, dumb commercial, and it definitely isn't. There was less conspicuous product-placement and brand-identification than in "Knocked-Up," even counting the suspicious similarity in the main characters' cell phone "Sidekicks." The film might have lacked a certain nuance, creative storytelling and original cinematography (ripping shamelessly off of the music-videos of featured musicians), but this was at least partially compensated by excellent dance choreography and a strong sense of self-consciousness.<br /><br />That's right, the makers of "Step Up 2," knew while they were creating the movie that it would be branded with critical disdain, even disgust. That's why they even factored this idea into the fabric of the narrative- the protagonists are all anti-establishment outcasts, shunning classically-trained authorities and their traditions because they have so often faced misunderstanding and rejection. "Fuck the old school," the movie would say, if it were a little-more fierce and confrontational, "They don't get us, and we don't get them."<br /><br />But because it is a film about (an admittedly precious) 16 year old girl, and because it is designed for those age 13 (or younger, with more liberal parents), the cursing, the sexuality, even the violence are all kept to a laughably unrealistic minimum.<br /><br />It's the one area where the film film failed most to me, if only because it was so promising. I mean, the subject is at least somewhat interesting- modern dance, and how it differs from the dance of previous times and eras, how it is unique, and how the people at the time relate to it. It's just too bad that the plot was so linear and the characters and their world so underdeveloped.<br /><br />The concept of a dance competition occurring in "The Streets," i.e. the poorer sections of a city, offers a lot of interesting opportunities to run wild with, such that the film cannot help but at least flirt with them. The popular dance crew are militaristic minorities, evocative of a stereotypical modern gang, willing to use theatrical vandalism and profanity-free graffitti to get their message across. Across town is a school for spoiled purebred sons and daughters, an insulated and dogmatic place buzzing with it's own sense of tense competition and exclusivity. Two sides of the same city, Baltimore, two clashing worlds, manifested by our two main characters and their relationship.<br /><br />"The Wire," this is not, though. The main characters, an emotionally troubled but strong, beautiful girl and her lovable successful douche-bag suitor, bless their hearts, are so obvious and dull that it's hard to ever take them seriously.<br /><br />Fortunately, we don't even have to, and we can still have a good time. "Step Up 2," intentionally avoids any originality outside of it's dance routines, and as such, the viewer is forced to focus more intensely on these scenes than any other singular aspect of the film. And even when they falter into the territory of hyperactive spectacle, they are no less kinetic or impressive than a typical movie martial arts battle.<br /><br />Very few of us in the audience, especially professional critics, can perform physical feats close to those displayed by the dancers in "Step Up 2," and for that the movie need be dully applauded. It is a showcase of a particular kind of talent, one that goes somewhat overlooked in a world where the cinema is such a dominant cultural presence. Which is exactly why "Step Up 2" is so content with deliberately undermining its own medium, and offending the sensibilities of it's most refined followers. People will see and enjoy it regardless of what some older, more informed person thinks, because it does satisfy a certain unsophisticated appetite, like fast-food.<br /><br />In Sum: The guiltiest of pleasures; a mostly intellectually devoid music-video that goes down easy with alcohol.Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-11518208225544138892008-01-25T18:57:00.000-06:002008-01-27T15:52:46.995-06:00Strange Monster, or: how I learned to stop placating and defend "Cloverfield"I am both surprised and mildly outraged over the amount of critical dissing that has been leveled at "Cloverfield," especially by those who generally liked the film. Most of these kinds of reviews spend some time lauding the film's technical wizardry- the integration of low-budget camcorder footage with expensive, convincing special effects- and then proceed to fault the film for a variety of imperfections in the rest of their column space, finally concluding that it is, overall, a mixed bag at best.<br /><br />The grievances range from petty condemnations of the acting on behalf of a no-name cast to pointed but seemingly obvious comparisons between the movie and a "theme park-ride," (as if a movie about a giant monster attacking a major city was not supposed to have this element to it.) Rest assured, "Cloverfield," is certainly a hell-of-a-ride, nobody can deny that, with new terrors around ever corner and a predictably high bodycount, but it is also so much more.<br /><br />It is not simply a vacuous, escapist adventure- nothing, mercifully, like the "Pirates of the Carribean," franchise or<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0338526/"> another obnoxious movie from a few years back</a>, both of which are much more suited to the negative connotations of "theme-park ride." I can see where this idea comes from, though- as many of the scene transitions in "Cloverfield," seem too timed and rehearsed to gel with the idea of the film being a spontaneous first-person documentary- the most prominent example occurring when the protagonists emerge from a subway station underground and are commanded by the military to enter a makeshift hospital area. The camera pans around the room in a circle, catching close ups of battlefield surgeries and even a captive mini-monster struggling to escape, as if the world within the movie was just an elaborately choreographed pretense, a kind of "Truman-Show" reality of sets and cues...which of course, it is.<br /><br />But I can't agree with all those who find these aspects of the movie too distracting to enjoy its' larger, overall theme and execution. Nor can I support the notion that the main characters are all unlikeable, selfish, spoiled brats. They sure have a yuppie element to them, and their concerns are mostly limited to each other's sexual relationships or lack thereof, but that's precisely the intent. "Cloverfield," begins like an episode of the "The Hills," (or it's more popular older sibling, "Laguna Beach,") and just when it approaches that point of cheap, shameless, interpersonal drama it veers off and becomes something else entirely.<br /><br />What it becomes is actually quite breathtaking to consider... a film that, like "Easy Rider," or "The Graduate," defiantly represents the concerns, the preoccupations, of an entire generation. Maybe that's why some critics are so intent on finding fault with it, because they aren't in the right age-group. As a soon-to-be 21 year old attending college for Journalism, I personally loved everything about "Cloverfield." It isn't a movie- it's a cultural time-capsule, touching on so many current elements of our lives- from terrorism, to user generated media, to the value of love in a society that revels in emotionless hookups. Not only that, it combines all these elements with those of a traditional (otherwise overdone) supernatural yarn- the giant monster B-movie, simultaneously subverting it.<br /><br />Fuck, in particular, those critics that bemoan "Cloverfield"'s destruction of New York City and the obvious parallels to the 9/11 terror attacks. Of course that's what the film is evoking, and to great effect, I might add. Why is "Cloverfield," blamed for depicting crumbling buildings in the same spectacular, morbidly fascinating fashion as the mainstream media covered 9/11? The cameraman is, like all those unsuspecting camera wielding people on the fateful day in September, just recording the shit going down in front of him. It's we the viewers that pay to see it. And indeed, for a while now, it will be difficult for ANY American who witnesses a building collapse, even a controlled demolition, to not associate the sight with the fall of the World Trade Center.<br /><br />The allusions to terrorism don't end there- the monster itself, as lots have pointed out, isn't fully revealed until the final moments of the film. Like my favorite M. Night Shyamalan film, "Signs," this approach definitely works really well on a narrative level, heightening the tension and fear by forcing the audience to imagine for themselves how the adversary really looks. But I think there's more going on than that: The monster has many parts- or "cells," including "smaller" monsters, bugs the size of dogs, that hide in dark places and sound like sprinklers when they attack. The protagonists must navigate a ruined urban environment, fearful of unseen danger at every turn. The images of soldiers and high-powered weaponry combing through city streets are the most obvious, an inverted reflection of the American campaigns in Iraq and Afghanistan. But none of this is approached the wrong way- it's all a magnificent symphony of violence and destruction, never marred by cheap, unrealistic stunts or overdone special effects.<br /><br />And that's precisely because our heroes aren't directly involved in what would be the main narrative thread in every other monster movie- i.e. finding a way to stop the creature. They don't receive any special information or powers, they never contact anyone else important (no scientists, no government agents) and spend the film either fleeing from the monster or trying to find away around it to get to their trapped friend. They are supposed to be us- the average, self-interested movie-going American public, consumed by an otherworldly situation that cannot be fully understood, let alone controlled. And yet we come to respect these characters and their struggle all the more for it. Sure, some of their motives and actions might seem like the common mistakes of B-movie prey to us sophisticates in the audience, but it is impossible not to connect with these characters on at least a raw physical level, as the audience was forced to connect with the soldiers in Ridley Scott's excellent "Black Hawk Down." Both movies work so well by relentlessly trapping the viewers in the same situation as the leads, and so, like it or not, you experience their micro-reality and nothing else.<br /><br />I have no doubts that "Cloverfield" will eventually get its due as an important early 21st century work, criticism be damned, although this might take a few years of bad Januaries and copy-cat films. I would strongly encourage all those who have seen the film to go back and watch it again with some of my longwinded rant in mind, as I plan to do soon. Even if it is nothing more to you than a big monster B-movie, it still works really well on at least this level.<br /><br />In Sum: Monstrously good fun. A Must-see.Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-75223137431060979362008-01-16T16:05:00.000-06:002008-12-09T16:47:40.601-06:00Oily Sunday<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LGKUp6EVGCw/R4_PWeFwZ8I/AAAAAAAAABY/1twukp-rTsE/s1600-h/dcb"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 270px; height: 407px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LGKUp6EVGCw/R4_PWeFwZ8I/AAAAAAAAABY/1twukp-rTsE/s320/dcb" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156568083303786434" border="0" /></a><br />I was going to title this post "Bloody Sunday," but let's face it, that would've been fairly uninspired, and somewhat disgraceful to the memory of those Irish protesters who were killed by the British back in 1972. Also, on a more personal and petty note, I'm not a big fan of U2- the opposite, in fact- everything I've heard by them grates on me, and so any title that conjures up associations with their music is one I wish to avoid. Perhaps I am even failing at this, as "Oily Sunday," is clearly a derivative of "Bloody Sunday," but it fits the following content, and thus it will remain.<br /><br />By now, if you are at all interested in film and haven't read about Paul Thomas Anderson's latest sprawling epic, "There Will Be Blood," I don't know what to make of you. For starters, I encourage all those out there unfamiliar with this director's previous work to go out and rent, even purchase, "Boogie Nights," as it is the movie that put Anderson on the map and features startlingly moving performances by Mark "<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0822854/">Shooter</a>" Wahlberg and Burt "<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0460780/">Uwe Boll made a movie in my Name</a>" Reynolds, among many others. It is a decade old now- hard for me to believe, but true- and still as groundbreaking and fresh as it was back when it first dropped. PTA also has "Magnolia," and "Punch Drunk Love," to his name...as well a few others that I have yet seen, but have no doubt are just as mind-blowing and overwhelming. The point is, the man is a legend in the making, undeniably one of the greatest working directors of our time, and his pictures deserve all the attention and praise they get.<br /><br />And if you have read at least something about his newest venture, it will likely have included praise for lead Daniel-Day Lewis, and composer and Radiohead guitarist Johnny Greenwood. Understandably so, as both deliver incredibly nuanced and captivating performances in their respective arenas. Maybe you've even heard that Paul Dano, aka the Mute Kid from "Little Miss Sunshine" and Klitz from "Girl Next Door," does a great job in his first "serious" role of note, as a power-hungry pastor, a claim I also support.<br /><br />But of the reviews I've read, few have taken the time to really decode the masterful symbolism evident in "There Will Be Blood," to arrive at some deeper, underlying allegory. I mean, at least for me, it's not enough to say, "this is a story about greed, competition, family, business, religion etc." These are blanket terms. Sure sure, they adequately describe some of the overarching themes present in the film, but I'm curious to see what exactly the film says about them. What about greed? What about competition and family and business and religion?<br /><br />And so, six days after my first viewing of the film, I've come up with two interpretations. These aren't the only two interpretations I think apply, and I'm eager to hear others. Hell, I'll probably even think of more after I see it again and think about it some more. But, you've been forewarned, if you haven't seen "There Will Be Blood," and don't want it <span style="font-weight: bold;">SPOILED, CEASE READING IMMEDIATELY. SPOILERS AHEAD!</span><br /><br /><br />***<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Interpretation #1: The Socioeconomic Commentary</span></span><br /><br />The movie is a critique of the American oil industry.<br /><br />Daniel Plainview represents the early American oil companies, raising and guiding a nascent petroleum business, portrayed by his son, H.W. Daniel didn't father H.W., but rather acquired him after the child's real dad was killed during a mining operation, analogous to the way that oil companies don't exactly "produce" the oil they sell, but rather find it in the ground, extract it, and refine it. H.W. is never referred to by anything other than abbreviation, strengthening the idea that he is not really a person , but rather an abstraction. This point is articulated even further, when, during a drilling accident, he loses his hearing.<br /><br />Over time, Daniel becomes wealthier and more powerful by using H.W. as a tool to secure people's trust, and consequently, their money. But he also becomes progressively more cruel unstable. At one point he gives up H.W., replacing him with a man who claims to be his long lost brother. Though this man initially appears to be quite helpful to Daniel, it is discovered that he is really an impostor, and an enraged Daniel murders him. This is ironic, as Daniel pretends to be H.W.'s father despite the fact that he is not, and yet he cannot stand a man pretending to be his brother.<br /><br />The impostor might then represent the U.S. government- which was initially favorable to the oil industry, but during the late 19th and early 20th centuries, began attempting to impose more strict anti-trust regulations. As we all are aware, these attempts didn't go very far, and today the oil industry is larger and more influential than ever. There is even reason to believe that the industry dictates U.S. foreign policy, overcoming political obstacles as easily Daniel overtook his false-brother.<br /><br />Eli Sunday may represent several different ideas in this interpretation. The most obvious, of course, is the role of religion, specifically Christianity, in the American society and economy. Christianity begins modestly enough, but soon begins criticizing the way big business impacts people. Yet it offers little better treatment, condemning instinctual behaviors and attempting to control people through fear and illusion. Like the oil industry, Christianity eventually rises to occupy a powerful place in American society and government, influencing many policy decisions and impacting the lives of people who aren't even followers. In the end, however, religion is still subservient to big business, and Eli is forced to beg Daniel for assistance to avoid financial ruin. Big businesses eventually "kills" religion, like Daniel kills Eli, in the sense that economic decisions often supercede religious ones for many people. Indeed, religion itself is a business, one that is just less lucrative and dependent on other businesses.<br /><br />When H.W., all grown up and married, tells Daniel he is moving to Mexico to start his own company, Daniel becomes extremely agitated and sadistic. He reveals that he isn't actually H.W.'s father in an attempt to emotionally crush him. In spite, or because of this response, H.W. does follow through and leaves his surrogate fathers house for another land. This action, of course, is evocative of the way that the United States was replaced as the world's leader in oil production by other countries- notably the Arab states. At the conclusion of the film, Daniel is financially very well off, but spiritually ruined, having spent his life dominating and mistreating others to acquire his material gains.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Interpretation #2: The Judeo-Christian Analysis</span></span><br /><br /><br /><br />Daniel Plainview is Yaweh, the god of the Hebrews. He has a son, Jesus Christ, often abbreviated as J.C., but in this film, abbreviated as H.W. Daniel creates whole towns, like Little Boston, where there was once virtually nothing- the way God created the earth and life.<br /><br />But despite what we would wish to believe, Daniel's God is far from benevolent. He is very bitter, angry and contemptuous of the civilizations he has allowed to flourish. He seeks to have complete dominion over his projects and expects order. Instead, he is often faced with chaos and disorder, which he hates. As such, he has no sympathy for the humans that propagate such forces, which are counterproductive to his grand plan. At their best, their are merely unreliable tools in his hands. Indeed, his only real link to humanity is through his obedient son, whom he parades around and lavishes with intense, almost disturbing, affection.<br /><br />Eventually, Daniel-God sacrifices his son for the sake of his plan. After H.W. is physically harmed by by the mistakes of men, as Jesus was physically harmed by the Roman soldiers, Daniel-God sends him away, "forsakes" him as it were. He doesn't want to waste his time and energy on a son that is not going to live up to him, that is going to require more work than he will produce. Daniel-God finds a replacement in the form of his "Brother," who turns out to be a "great-deceiver," the Antichrist. Daniel easily overcomes this impostor once he discovers his true nature but is made all the more weary of life as a result.<br /><br />Eli Sunday, who has been with Daniel-God since the beginning of his development of Little Boston, is the Devil. A charismatic and seemingly devout young-man, he initially seeks to be elevated by Daniel-God in front of everyone by being allowed to offer his blessing on the first drill. When Daniel-God refuses to do this, the Devil Eli turns away from him, convincing people to follow him through false miracles and deception. Despite his hatred for the Devil, God must eventually grant him some power to achieve his plan, as Daniel was forced to attend a church service and bow down in front of Eli to gain the land he needed for his transcontinental pipeline. Daniel-God, of course, absolutely resents this turn of events, and is forever eager for the opportunity to ruin and destroy the Devil Eli.<br /><br />Eventually, H.W.-J.C. returns to Daniel, but is unlike him in many ways. He marries a woman, interacting with humanity in a way that his father will never be able to. He is quiet, calm and reserved, never overpowering. He decides to leave the house of his father, Daniel-God, to start his own company, or religion- Christianity. We don't get to see how this turns out in the movie, only that Daniel-God obviously resents this and disavows his son, claiming he was not his "real father."<br /><br />Daniel-God disengages from humanity, as many people believe God has from our world, not making any confirmed appearances or proving his existence in many years. He isolates himself in his mansion, heaven, best represented by his in-house bowling alley (Heaven, or the sky, has historically been compared to a bowling alley- as thunder is said to be angels bowling). The Devil Eli comes to meet him and ask for his assistance, at first attempting to trick him once more, but then, finding himself outmatched, begging for his forgiveness. Ever the unsympathetic God, Daniel first humiliates the Devil Eli, then kills them, fulfilling prophecy but not his own existence, as he remains alone and unfulfilled.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">End Interpretations</span></span><br /><br />Damn. I'm exhausted by thinking about this film. And still some questions remain- what is the significance of the ocean? A few characters, Daniel included, make reference to "an ocean of oil," and at one point, he even travels to the seaside, but I couldn't determine what it was supposed to represent. Infinity? We all know oil will run out eventually.... And what about the lack of any prominent women figures? Some gender politics at work here? Simply faithful to the times or.....some hidden themes of homosexuality?<br /><br />In Sum: This movie provokes many more profound questions than some people are comfortable with. It is ass-numbingly long, slow, and static. Even more meditative and much less accessible than the similarly bleak "No Country For Old Men." If you are looking for something entertaining, this is not it. But if you want to experience a film that will challenge your mind, body and soul, see "There Will Be Blood" in theaters while you can.Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-7726005562466615732007-12-30T12:06:00.001-06:002008-12-09T16:47:40.613-06:00McSweeney'sTim Burton's R-rated horror-musical-comedy "Sweeney Todd," staring Johnny Depp as a homicidal English barber bent on revenge, might just be the best of the latest crop of movies to hit theaters. It is certainly more entertaining and satisfying than the overhyped "Juno." And not surprisingly, it is the only movie to come out this season that I find truly embodies the spirit of the winter holidays.<br /><br />You see, it is tradition for my extended family to congregate at my house every Christmas to eat, open presents, and watch explicit/gory films together. (Healthy, I know) Previous selections have included such beloved holiday masterpieces as "The Ghosts of Mars," "Road Warrior," "The Fist of the North Star," "Resident Evil," and "The Crow."<br /><br />This is actually a less troubling state of affairs than it sounds. My cousins and I are usually the first to occupy the downstairs "home-theater" area, taking up all the available couch-space before any of our parents or older relatives have strayed from the appetizers upstairs. As a consequence, we have total control of the viewing selection for the evening. All of my first-cousins happen to be males, of the particular sort that celebrate fake violence. So I've understandably come to see fake blood-letting as just another way to spread the Christmas cheer...it helps the the color corresponds to less homicidal things like reindeer noses and holly berries.<br /><br />More than this, I think that the overwhelming idea of all the nobler aspects that the holidays are supposed to be about; love, charity, grace, religious ceremonies- actually create something of a backlash in many people, even if they don't admit it outright. After a month of being exposed to these ideas several times a day by cute anthropomorphic animals, animated versions of traditionally inanimate objects like Snowmen, and garish covers of the same twenty old-ass songs, it's not difficult to see how some people could experience a desire to hurt things. This would certainly go some ways in explaining the appalling, discourteous behavior of many winter shoppers and, more frustratingly, drivers- but that's a whole different, timeworn topic that need not be repeated here.<br /><br />Frankly, I kind of like seeing people go crazy around the holidays. I mean in principle I wish they didn't for everyone's sake, including their own (It's just not healthy to stand out in the freezing weather, hours bef0re the ass crack of dawn just to get into a fucking department store, especially now that we have this thing called the <span style="font-style: italic;">internet</span>)<span style="font-style: italic;">. </span>But at the same time, I like seeing this more brutal side of America laid bare- it's seems somehow more authentic to me, people pushing and shoving each other to get some material crap that will likely be discarded in a few years or even returned a few days later. It's consumerism at it's most pure baby, the thing that has made the United States such an economic giant for so many years. It certainly seems more in-line with our everyday activities than showing up for one or two nights to "worship" at seasonally-overcrowded Christian church services.<br /><br />And yes, coming back to the matter at hand, "Sweeney Todd," vividly explores the most despicable behaviors of human beings. Lust, exploitation, blackmail, corruption, and of course murder all swirl uninhibited through Burton's miserable, dark, vision of 19th-century London, singing and dancing to the tune of Sondheim's glorious music. We don't get too much outright criticism of consumerism, but when Bonham-Carter's Ms. Lovett character turns her once derelict dining establishment into a London hotspot by filling her meat-pies with human flesh, the irony is far from subtle.<br /><br />Despite what you might have heard to the contrary, Depp, Helena Bonham Carter and Alan Rickman, the three lead actors, are all very capable singers. In the opinion of this mostly theater illiterate-reviewer, they do justice to the Broadway material. <a href="http://www.moviehole.net/interviews/20071228_exclusive_interview_stephen_so.html">Sondheim himself has said he completely trusted and enjoyed Burton's vision of his musical.</a> I was most impressed, though, with the less-famous singer-actors in the supporting roles of Johanna, Toby, and Anthony, the sailor boy. Here's to a future with these burgeoning actors filling ever more prominent parts in quality films. Hopefully they will avoid <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0409182/">some of the more embarrassing career choices</a> that striking singer turned actress Emily Rossum has made since her turn as Christine in the most recent film adaptation of "The Phantom of the Opera."<br /><br />"Sweeney Todd," is a rare kind of movie. A genre-bending exercise that wallows in the misery of the human condition while simultaneously making light of it, and both approaches work together seamlessly. Showtunes aside, it is unlike the majority of other cheesy horror-slashers in at least a few couple key departments. The most apparent; the fatalities themselves- the horrific, graphic murders in "Todd," are never played for laughs or fun.<br /><br />Every time someone is killed in cold blood, the audience is almost sure to audibly wince. Even though the blood itself is bright and stylish, akin to "Sin City," the violence doesn't seem nearly as hyper-kinetic or casual as that film. We are always reminded of how terrible the act of killing is, usually during the unceremonious disposal of the bodies- as Todd tips back his adjusted barber's chair to dump his freshly killed customers headfirst into the basement two stories below him, their heads crashing loudly, sickly onto the ground. The horrific, cruel nature of unanticipated murder is not dwelled upon too much at any particular time, though. Instead we are just left with a series of profoundly disturbing images of a wronged human being wronging others...a point which leads into the next, and less obvious key difference...<br /><br />Sweeney Todd himself, our enigmatic antihero. We are shown in flashbacks the reason for his bloodlust- his unrighteous imprisonment, the seizure of his beloved wife and daughter. We might even sympathize with his desire for vengeance, were not extended to include all of London, nay humanity itself. But even when we find out how truly warped Todd has become, targeting people who have nothing to do with his predicament, we are still rooting for him. This puts him in the same department as nearly every other horror icon- Mike Myers, Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger. Everyone watches the movies with those guys because they want to see them kill... especially because it is unjustified. But at the same time, we all want to see them die too- or at least be temporarily defeated at the conclusion of the film. Their murders cannot go unpunished. We need some sort of closure for the movie to be satisfying, some way to believe that evil cannot proceed uninterrupted for long. We applaud loudly when the cheerleader or the nerd or whichever weak surviving character gives it to the killer, because we want to see them get fucked up for what they've done.<br /><br />And if you haven't seen the film, are unfamiliar with the musical and don't want the ending <span style="font-weight: bold;">SPOILED. NOW WOULD BE THE TIME TO STOP READING!!!</span> (If you haven't already)<br /><br /><br />***<br /><br />When Todd is killed at the end of the film, we the viewers also welcome this. But it is not because we want to see him suffer for his crimes. No, in fact, quite the opposite. The death of Sweeney Todd is made oddly more satisfying and more touching than the deaths of similar repeat killers because it is the only <span style="font-style: italic;">escape from suffering</span> possible for him. To continue living, most assuredly facing prison-time again if he doesn't flee, and always having the burden of the murder of his wife on his hands no matter what, is an awful fate for our avenging antihero, one that we cannot condone for him, despite his acts. Suicide, too, would seem like a cop-out, something that would not please him or us. No, Sweeney needs to die by the hand of another- released from the world that would otherwise have continued to fuck him over in an act of justice, and unintentional, morbid benevolence. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWBWVpCuswosx0hBzOOs76-hXSX8FU566yTNbMzghwTtWBTsPezQLu-kFcIykYmETxOj_AEq7twa-lYBHqM4j_q6wUZNNIykiUf89lXIvLC6XVHYGzjUROAkSGYOaEWC_OpmjbHSKafwhUnCY/s1600-h/presents.jpg">And what are the holidays really about...if not benevolence?</a><br /><br />In Sum: Awesome. If you are into Tim Burton's gothic sensibilities, you will thoroughly enjoy this. How many R-rated musicals are there? Not many....Go see it now!<br /><br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><a href="http://www.moviehole.net/interviews/20071228_exclusive_interview_stephen_so.html"> </a>Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037149852824046192.post-71301530067171771302007-12-22T02:02:00.001-06:002008-03-25T22:08:20.119-05:00Cera-phine<b>"That smart, hip, human comedy you've been waiting for all year? The one with dialogue like a sugar rush and performances like grace notes? It's called <i>Juno</i> and it just arrived in theaters. Go forth and multiplex."<br />- Ty Burr, Boston Globe<br /></b><b><br />"The most pleasant surprise of the year."<br />-Boo Allen, Denton Record Chronicle<br /></b><b><i><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />"</span>Juno</i> is a coming-<wbr>of-<wbr>age movie made with idiosyncratic charm and not a single false note."<br />-David Denby, The New Yorker<br /><br /></b><span style="font-weight: bold;">"Jason Reitman's "Juno" is just about the best movie of the year. It is very smart, very funny and very touching; it begins with the pacing of a screwball comedy and ends as a portrait of characters we have come to love."</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">-Roger Ebert, The Chicago Sun Times </span><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></b><br />The above are just a sampling of the numerous gushing reviews that "Juno" has received since it began screening a few weeks ago. With such a seemingly unanimous outpouring of critical love, it's almost as if the critics themselves believed one of their lot were responsible for the witty young Canadian's pregnancy (Even, especially?...female critics). Or perhaps it's some sort of weird identification with JK Simmons or Alison Janney as her supportive father and stepmother, respectively.<br /><br />The truth is, "Juno" is far from a perfect movie. It is not, as Ebert says, "just about the best movie the year." Not even close. Taking obvious hints from such previously beloved, idiosyncratic movies like "Napoleon Dynamite" and "Little Miss Sunshine," and with a narrative-arc suspiciously similar to that of this year's earlier hit comedy "Knocked Up," "Juno" breaks absolutely no new ground.<br /><br />Sure, sure, newcomer Diablo Cody should be commended for a bangup job on her first successful screenplay, which relies largely on clever wordplay between all characters. And her portrait of a pregnant teen is somewhat refreshing because the titular Juno is so defiantly, uncompromisingly unique and strong-willed, and so will be a role-model to many young female viewers, unexpectedly pregnant or otherwise. It is definitely very cool and more than slightly ironic to see a young woman in film portrayed as more than<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1083271/"><span style="font-family:monospace;"></span> an object of the male gaze </a>, as multi-dimensionally as her.<br /><br />But let me be honest, I wasn't blown away by the movie- not in the way the reviews lead me to believe I would. The obvious influences of those other witty, endearing movies were too pronounced for me to ignore- and personally, I'm not a big fan of understated expression and quirkiness. Wes Andersen has begun to grate on me, which is why I have yet to see "Darjeeling Limited." I walked out of "Little Miss Sunshine" halfway through, much to the utter surprise and condemnation of most that I know.<br /><br />I think it all comes back to the fact that I am averse to saccharine examinations of interpersonal relationships, especially of the familial variety. I walked out of "LMS" midwat because I felt like I was watching the film adaptation of a Hallmark card. Not one of those sappy, over-sentimental ones with pastel colors and pictures of flowers and ornate cursive lettering- no, the cinematic equivalent of those would be more along the lines of something like "The Notebook," or, more appropriately <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0765447/"> "Evening." </a> I am talking about one of the more crudely drawn, brightly colored, subversively cheerful Hallmark cards that have some <a href="http://www.hallmark.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/product%7C10001%7C10051%7C769625%7C-2;-107988;-105367;-105375;124616;11416;-105435;-105475%7C%7CP1R12SO%7Cproducts/"> sort of weird, borderline profane message on the front but make up for it with an innocuous declaration of affection/celebration on the inside. </a> "Juno," is definitely like that.<br /><br />Not that I mind these cards at all really. To the contrary, I find even the most eye-roll inducing, cheesy ones to be much more palatable than the melodramatic ones. But I just don't want to see either when I go to the movies. If I am watching a movie primarily about families, friendships, separated lovers, or some combination thereof, it better involve some pretty fucked up, immoral interpersonal conflict. It better involve some grave injustice, some deliberate cruelty, some explosive rage, some crushing despair, overpowering emotions of any kind, really, I just want to feel some PASSION. I am a romantic at heart, which is why I loved "Closer," and am a devout "Nip/Tuck" viewer. And that's the root of my problems with something as reserved as "Juno."<br /><br />But if that, and the allusions to past films were all that I found to be "wrong," with Juno, I wouldn't be devaluing it so much. No, I think the major thing that prevented me from enjoying it as much as so many others have so far is that though the film had it's hilarious moments, it was much more dramatic than it was humorous. I'm not against the "bait-and switch," advertising that is running for "Juno," presenting it as a "screwball comedy" because, as I just said, it does have it's moments of comedic gold. But it's worth mentioning that the movie is a "dramedy," in the utmost sense of the word, with the drama coming first, not chronologically of course, but being the key ingredient in the film. The most astute critics have been those that have compared it to "Knocked Up," and not just because both movies deal with the effect an unexpected pregnancy has on people. Rather, it's because both movies have essentially the same plot, and more frustratingly, the same ending. "Juno," complicates and alters the plot, of course, her being a suburban teenager uncomfortably close to the age of consent- and these complications are very welcome, as it brings about the necessity of Jason Bateman's and Jennifer Garner's characters. But seriously, go see the movie- and tell me it's not the same dynamic between Michael Cera and Ellen Page as it was between Seth Rogen and Katherine Heigel. Except not as funny or entertaining.<br /><br />Jason Reitman's directing is just kind of blah to me in this movie. I really liked "Thank You for Smoking," because it was so politically incorrect and edgy. "Juno" flirts with edginess, but if you think she's going to be anything like Aaron Eckhart's slick cigarette-spokesperson, you are in for some serious disappointment. She's clever alright, almost too-clever sometimes, and I suppose that's part of her appeal, but I felt the urge to tell her to shut-her-trap sometimes, and that's never a good thing.<br /><br />I must say that I wasn't entirely <span style="font-style: italic;">disappointed</span> with "Juno." It still was a good movie in it's own right, and will probably win some awards here and there. Diablo Cody's screenplay should probably get a nod for being the best, but I can't really support that because it is so close to that of "Knocked Up," despite some inventive altercations. It was Michael Cera that really saved the movie for me though. His character, whom I expected was going to be totally unsympathetic and callous, is actually really hilarious and identifiable. His subtlety commands every scene he's in. I hope his career continues to be full of such wonderfully drawn roles.<br /><br />In Sum: Fine, worth seeing, but not as good as you're expecting. "Thank You For Smoking," is much more enjoyable.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></div>Carl Franzenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13674044930644646930noreply@blogger.com2