Thursday, December 3, 2009
"Primer" comments by Andy
I had no clue what happened. Today I ran the film again from that last place I remember understanding what was going on. Turns out I would have still been confused, even if I had stayed awake. I paid attention, I listened to the dialog well, and at the end, I still had to check wikipedia to understand what the hell happened.
Thank goodness for wikipedia. But it begs the question, can a film be great if I have to check wikipedia afterword to understand it?
The answer is no, at least in my opinion, but "Primer" sure came close. Yes, I was very confused at the end, but wow it was an intense movie. My wife said she was totally lost, but her heart was pounding just the same.
The acting was superb, and the only reason I didn't like the low production values was that I couldn't quite hear the complex dialogue, and you really really really need to hear the dialogue. So what I would change, and what would make it much less confusing, is to add a scene or voiceover that gives a little bit of context and information about how the time traveling began to spin out of control. It wouldn't need to be much.
"Primer" is supposed to be the most accurate filmic portrayal of time travel, and from the movies I've seen, I totally agree. Time travel is scary, messy, and ultimately results in a dynamic (and thus an effective absence of) history and future. I don't think we humans are capable of accurately understanding, describing, or portraying what time travel actually is, but I think "Primer" has gotten the closest to it.
As a separate issue, I really liked the complex dialogue (but I wish the audio was better). I read that the director intentionally left it complex rather than dumbing it down for us. Yes, much of it went over my head, but I think the complex dialogue was nicely juxtaposed with a very complicated plot and concept.
Good film. I feel smarter for having watch "Primer."
comments by Andy
Thursday, November 26, 2009
"Five Obstructions" comments by Andy
I get that it was a short film that Jorgen Leith did many years ago and that Lars von Trier obviously loves. I'm just not arty enough to understand why Jorgen needed to do it again with different constraints.
I think that's what I'm struggling with in my movie-going maturity - can I appreciate art films with no plot???? I don't know. This had interesting parts, I guess, but on the whole I didn't enjoy it, nor did I appreciate it's artines. It's beyond the line for me. I needed to watch a good big-budget mainstream movie just to get back to center.
But I'm still interested in a challenge, and I'm in no means swearing off odd films...
thoughts by Andy
Thursday, November 12, 2009
"The Five Obstructions"
by Jason Pyles
In keeping with the spirit of this unusual documentary, I’ll place an obstruction on my review and limit myself to 500 words or fewer to hone my craft.
For those who are unfamiliar and therefore unprepared, “The Five Obstructions” documents a contest between two gifted filmmakers, Lars von Trier, and his mentor, Jorgen Leth.
The latter made a 13-minute, experimental film in 1967 called “The Perfect Human.” Von Trier apparently has always loved Leth’s film and has watched it numerous times. But von Trier wanted to challenge Leth to remake five variations of his movie, with each new attempt having some sort of handicapping stipulation(s) inhibiting the filmmaker. In fact, the obstructions often are multi-faceted.
I won’t list the obstructions here, because learning of the new requirements is part of the fun. I will say that many of them are technical with regard to filmmaking itself, but not all. Intriguingly, von Trier tries to delve uncomfortably deep into his mentor’s psyche, seemingly wanting to punish him but “for his own good.” (Why is this is not surprising coming from the maker of “Dogville,” “Dancer in the Dark” and “Antichrist”?)
It is a wonder that Leth agreed to entertain von Trier’s bizarre challenge, which takes a couple of years to play out, and involves location-scouting, casting, etc. But what is most endearing about “The Five Obstructions” is Leth’s sincere determination not only to hurdle over each obstruction, but also to make a film that excels in spite of it. Watching the seasoned filmmaker work out these cinematic puzzles is what makes this film worth watching.
Still, “The Five Obstructions” is the kind of art film — much like “The Perfect Human” — that leaves moviegoers with a distaste for art films, in general. Indeed, I suspect that only those viewers who are filmmakers or film art scholars, or both, would truly enjoy this documentary. I’d wager that most people I know would shut it off because of its “weirdness.” As for objectionable content, this unrated film would probably be rated R (though the original 1967 version of “The Perfect Human” would be approximately PG).
A note for those who plan to watch this on DVD: I have three exercises for you that I think will enhance your enjoyment and appreciation of the film:
1.) Before watching the documentary, go to the DVD’s “Extras” and watch the original version of “The Perfect Human.” It is interspersed throughout the feature film, but I personally wish I had seen it first in order to gain my bearings.
2.) Watch the documentary next.
3.) Watch the U.S. trailer and observe how a trailer can be effectively cut together to make a film seem like it has widespread marketing appeal. The Danish trailer wasn’t nearly as appealing to my American sensibilities.
By the way, my favorite new versions are the results of Obstruction 1 and Obstruction 4.
Word count total: 497
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Kill Bill Vols. 1 & 2
by Jason Pyles
Quentin Tarantino’s two “Kill Bill” films have an undeniable video game quality. This is not uncommon in modern action films, but these two examples are special because each one has a different video game emphasis. In “Vol. 1,” Uma Thurman’s The Bride character slices and dices numerous victims — many of them nameless, faceless blanks. Gamers are accustomed to mowing down hundreds of place-holders, such as these.
“Vol. 2” — as well as the two films collectively — illustrates the way one must progressively climb the ladder of “bosses,” having prerequisite, episodic showdowns that must be won in order to face the biggest boss at a long-awaited finale. I love that.
Of course, I don’t think it was necessarily Tarantino’s objective to bring a Double Dragon-like video game to the screen. No, according to the Making of “Kill Bill” short film that accompanies the DVD with “Vol. 1,” while QT was filming “Pulp Fiction,” he and Thurman came up with the concept of this Bride character as a woman-scorned, revenge flick. In addition, as he is wont to do, QT also intended to draw upon his vast knowledge of the Kung Fu film genre to weave an amalgam of Hong Kong cinema, ‘70s grindhouse cinema, exploitation cinema, samurai films and the spaghetti western.
The more one knows about these various genres, the more one will appreciate what QT has done with his “Kill Bill” creation. I don’t claim to be an expert on any of these genres; however, I do know a thing or two about martial arts films, which enhanced my appreciation for “Vol. 2” specifically.
The concept of having a vendetta — especially one that could develop within a young person whose loved one(s) has been slain — is a prominent martial arts film theme. Spoilers ahead: Knowing that we were watching a Tarantino film, there was no doubt that Copperhead’s little girl was going to witness her demise. And following the genre, The Bride tells the kid to come find her when she’s older if she’s still sore about her mother’s death.
Another common martial arts theme is having foes who are specially trained with one, unconventional weapon, just as GoGo is with her chain mace.
Perhaps the most prevalent martial arts film theme is the student’s unconventional training by a superhumanly powerful master teacher. Accordingly, The Bride learns the mysteries of Kung Fu under the cruel tutelage of Pai Mei. Now, this sequence cashes in — thrice — on the screenwriter’s technique of set-up and pay-off, which is where information planted earlier in the film comes back around later. Also, I would note, there is something in The Bride’s education relevant to battling each of her three foes in “Vol. 2.”
The Bride’s training of being able to punch through wood from only three inches away addresses her escape from Bud’s seeming death sentence. (This sequence, by the way, is masterful: The way the screen ratio claustrophobically changes while she’s in the coffin, as well as the initial pitch blackness with incredibly haunting sound effects of shoveled dirt, constitutes the film’s most effective — and affecting — portion.) And naturally, the way The Bride plucked the eyeball (Elle Driver) and the superb execution of the five-point-palm exploding heart technique (Bill) were also set up during The Bride’s training. Because it was a set-up and pay-off scenario, I wasn’t disappointed with this seemingly anti-climactic, fatal blow: Again, and maybe this convention comes more from martial arts video games than films, but it is common for a martial artist to have one finishing technique, ie., Daniel Larusso’s Crane Kick in “The Karate Kid.” Finishing moves are a big deal when you’re a Kung Fu master.
Just a quick actors’ note: Michael Parks, who plays his usual character Earl “Pops” McGraw in “Vol. 1” and then Esteban in “Vol. 2,” is one of my favorite character actors. He was also in the exceptional introductory sequence of “From Dusk Till Dawn.” I wish that guy had also been squeezed into “No Country for Old Men.” Anyway, he’s a dynamic actor who’s worth mentioning. Also worth noting is Daryl Hannah’s passable performance: After seeing her execution of her role in “Wall Street” (1987), I seriously had my doubts about her acting abilities. (A quick check at the IMDb.com reveals that she won a Razzie Award for that role, as well as for two other performances.) In any case, I liked her in these films.
Though they inspire much discussion, the “Kill Bill” films are two of those rare motion pictures that are difficult to describe because they speak for themselves. I feel that way about “Mysterious Skin,” too. I realize that I’ve likely contributed very little above to the pages and pages of writing about the “Kill Bill” films. They combine to form so rich a work, that it’s a challenge to write commentary beyond scenes I admired.
I will agree with Andy’s post below that the second film is slower, but it also features better storytelling. (It probably doesn’t help that it’s about 44 minutes longer than the first film.) Nevertheless, I found it engaging upon my first viewing, which this was. That brings me to Andy’s point: This was Andy’s second viewing, and I could see where these films would not hold up us well with subsequent viewings. After we’ve already learned the tricks of the narrative, we’re left with video-game violence and lengthy dialogue, which is still intriguing, but not the way it is in, say, “Pulp Fiction” or “Reservoir Dogs.”
As for Tarantino’s purpose in slicing “Kill Bill” in two (and it looks like three, slated for 2014), I’m sure there are official answers for this, but my speculation would be that this is an example of a notably extravagant filmmaker who has indulged himself in the work of constructing an epic.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
"Kill Bill" already...by Andy
Thursday, October 29, 2009
"The Son" comments by Andy
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Up Too Close and Personal
by Jason Pyles
In his review of “The Son,” esteemed film scholar and critic Stanley Kauffmann, of The New Republic, said “... both times (I saw ‘The Son’), I felt that I was in the presence of a work that is larger and more deeply roiling than we are usually prepared for in a film.” In another review, he described this film as “... magnificently simple and large ...”
Roger Ebert raved about “The Son,” calling it “a great film.” In fact, in his review he wrote: “... go see the film. Walk out of the house today, tonight, and see it, if you are open to simplicity, depth, maturity, silence, in a film that sounds in the echo chambers of the heart. ... If you find you cannot respond to it, that is the degree to which you have room to grow. ... I grew during this film. It taught me things about the cinema I did not know.”
The New York Times’ A.O. Scott said “The Son” has “devastating power.” He also wrote, “To call ‘The Son’ a masterpiece would be to insult its modesty. Like the homely useful boxes Olivier teaches his prodigals to build, it is sturdy, durable and, in its downcast, unobtrusive way, miraculous.”
The three critics quoted above are all greater than I. Also, I will be the first to confess that I have much to learn about the cinema, or as Ebert puts it, I have “room to grow.” Having said that, I think “The Son” is mostly irritating, slow and therefore boring, and a bit lean in its story. No, not all cinema should be entertaining or formulaic (“The Son” is neither), but its simplicity approaches a dullness comparable to my workplace's safety training videos.
Specifically, what drove me nuts is the way the camera piggy-backs over Olivier’s shoulder through most of the film. I’m fine with wobbly, hand-held camerawork, but it was the perpetual close-ups and medium shots that literally made me keep scooting back from the screen, so I could get some distance between the actor and me, in hopes of gaining some perspective.
I watched the entire film closely (I had no choice!) to see why the directors Dardenne chose to photograph their principal actor in this claustrophobic way. After all, films tell their stories with more than just the script: editing, cinematography, sound — and basically every other element usually contributes to making the narrative materialize before us, so I suspected they had a reason for this pervasively noticeable stylistic choice. The best I could come up with was the close camera (which witnesses Olivier’s troubled nature), symbolizes how his burdensome knowledge was a “monkey on his back.” After the scuffle in the woods when the unlikely pair load the wood together in the final scene, the camera finally backs off a little, as if to suggest that Olivier is now free from the information he was harboring.
The film is painfully slow. Some films’ slow pacing assists in conveying their narratives, as I mentioned above. “Cast Away” is a great example of this: It is slow — of necessity — to help give us a sense of Tom Hanks’ long passage of time on the deserted island. But “The Son” is not only needlessly slow, it doesn’t seem to care if we’re watching or not. Case in point: At one point we see Olivier begin to put on his back-support belt, but before we get the thrilling opportunity to watch him put it on, Olivier is partially out of the frame, off screen, so we just have to wait for him, without getting to at least see the belt sequence, which is better than watching nothing.
I admire the naturalistic performances. The cast members seem more like regular people in a documentary than actors in a screenplay. Also, I like how the Dardenne brothers wrote their story with credible developments and outcomes, rather than resorting to ramped-up drama like the material we’d expect to see in an artificial (albeit entertaining) Hollywood flick.
Yes, there is finally some degree of power within “The Son,” but it’s like cracking the shells of pistachios to get the nut — or sucking on rib bones to get a little meat: There’s eventually a good morsel, but it’s not really worth all the work to get to it. Put another way, “The Son” would have worked much better as a short film.