Alternatively, I would propose that we work on a two-week cycle. We could make it a goal to have the film watched early in the first week, and have posted about it by the end of the first week. The second week could be the week to discuss the films in-depth... I would personally prefer the experience of depth in discussion to quantity of experiences watching. This change might strike a good balance between analyzing deeply, and experiencing a variety of films. We would need to be careful about this, though, because we may be tempted to just procrastinate and put-off watching and posting, which would just defeat the whole purpose of giving us more time to discuss. Just something I've been thinking about...what does everybody else think?
Friday, August 8, 2008
Just thinking out loud...
This is Travis/Grabloid. I just had a thought/suggestion. I wonder if we ought to move to doing a film every other week as opposed to every week. I personally feel like it takes until Thursday/Friday to watch the film and to really be ready to react to it and analyze it very deeply. We then spend several days discussing it and digesting it after that, and by that time it is time to watch another film. For instance, I just barely got out of "Fargo-mode" and just started being able to react to, and think about "Dancer in the Dark", and it is already Friday. It might take me a day to feel ready to post about it confidently, and then the discussion of the film will be shortened by the necessity to watch/think about the next film. Maybe I just work/think too slowly???
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Regarding Censorship and Next Week's Film
Hello Friends,
This is Jason Pyles, the man who couldn't be more pleased with the spirited participation of the intelligent people who contribute to this blog. This post will address the question of my censoring the profanity on the blog with asterisks, and I need to talk to you all about next week's film:
Addressing the latter first ...
Andy Howell selected F.W. Murnau's 1927 film titled "Sunrise" (aka "Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans") for next week's screening. Nice.
When I had access to UVU's library, I used to be able to rent films from the pioneering days of the cinema, but now that I'm in Wheeling, W.Va., things are different.
Neither Netflix nor my local video stores have "Sunrise," so I'm not sure that I'll be able to screen it. Do any of you know of any Web sites that enable one to watch films like this online? If so, do tell.
Are any of you having trouble getting a copy of "Sunrise"? Let me know.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As for censoring the dialogue of this blog ...
I'm thankful you felt comfortable enough to ask about it.
My fervent goal was to have as few rules as possible on this blog. It is true that one of those very few rules was that we would avoid typing profanity, even though many of the films we'll be discussing are replete with profanity.
I can see where that wouldn't make sense.
Here are the reasons for my request:
1.) In July 2009, I'm "releasing" a movie review yearbook called "Considering the Cinema 2008." As part of the addenda-type back matter, I'm considering including some of the debates from this blog (crediting you, of course, with your permission), and I don't want profanity in my book.
2.) I am a newspaper man who is striving to adhere to the Associated Press Stylebook. I like to incorporate AP Style in my writing about film because that's a necessary part of my film-writing career, so I'm learning how to do it now. In AP Style, "obscenities, profanities, vulgarities," if printed in a newspaper, are usually printed with hyphens (not asterisks) replacing the letters. I looked it up again for this post, and I was mistaken; I thought it was asterisks, and I should have used hyphens. See? Still learning. So, though I don't edit anything else you write (I wouldn't dream of it), I'd like to refer to the AP Stylebook when these issues arise.
3.) My third reason will probably upset some people, but it's the honest truth: Many LDS people don't watch R-rated films. I'm LDS and I do watch R-rated films. I never try to persuade an LDS person who chooses not to watch R-rated films to watch them. Indeed, much of the content of R-rated films (including profanity) is offensive to me. But alas, I am a movie critic. Nevertheless, I think many R-rated films have substantial merit, and I think it is regrettable that everyone cannot comfortably choose to enjoy any film. Therefore, in an attempt to discuss these great films with LDS people and other conservative film lovers, I hope this blog can be a way for those people to engage in those kinds of films. In short, I don't want to alienate those who avoid profanity. And those who wish to convey profanity are not alienated, either. They still can, but hopefully, they will through the AP Style method. And yes, anybody can plainly understand what is meant by a--hole, but the point is, my site doesn't actually have the word itself, and will not therefore come up on search engines. In other words, I don't want my blog to pop up anytime somebody Googles the "F-word."
4.) Lastly, and this could be debated till the cows come home (which, presumably, is pretty late), but I give it strictly as my opinion that there is a level of professionalism associated with those who can communicate effectively without such color metaphors (which is not to say that people who swear are not intelligent). But this group of contributors is remarkably scholarly, and quite capable of vigorous writing sans swearing. Yes, there are times when we'll need to quote from a film laced with profanity, which is fine, because the AP Style method allows us to sufficiently portray the quote.
5.) And I would note that I was never critical of any of you who have already posted or quoted profanity, I just quietly (though incorrectly) changed it with asterisks, preserving the original concept evidently, though not precisely. My censoring isn't meant, in any way, to be judgmental. Naturally.
I hope that answers your question. As always, feel free to comment and disagree.
This is Jason Pyles, the man who couldn't be more pleased with the spirited participation of the intelligent people who contribute to this blog. This post will address the question of my censoring the profanity on the blog with asterisks, and I need to talk to you all about next week's film:
Addressing the latter first ...
Andy Howell selected F.W. Murnau's 1927 film titled "Sunrise" (aka "Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans") for next week's screening. Nice.
When I had access to UVU's library, I used to be able to rent films from the pioneering days of the cinema, but now that I'm in Wheeling, W.Va., things are different.
Neither Netflix nor my local video stores have "Sunrise," so I'm not sure that I'll be able to screen it. Do any of you know of any Web sites that enable one to watch films like this online? If so, do tell.
Are any of you having trouble getting a copy of "Sunrise"? Let me know.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As for censoring the dialogue of this blog ...
I'm thankful you felt comfortable enough to ask about it.
My fervent goal was to have as few rules as possible on this blog. It is true that one of those very few rules was that we would avoid typing profanity, even though many of the films we'll be discussing are replete with profanity.
I can see where that wouldn't make sense.
Here are the reasons for my request:
1.) In July 2009, I'm "releasing" a movie review yearbook called "Considering the Cinema 2008." As part of the addenda-type back matter, I'm considering including some of the debates from this blog (crediting you, of course, with your permission), and I don't want profanity in my book.
2.) I am a newspaper man who is striving to adhere to the Associated Press Stylebook. I like to incorporate AP Style in my writing about film because that's a necessary part of my film-writing career, so I'm learning how to do it now. In AP Style, "obscenities, profanities, vulgarities," if printed in a newspaper, are usually printed with hyphens (not asterisks) replacing the letters. I looked it up again for this post, and I was mistaken; I thought it was asterisks, and I should have used hyphens. See? Still learning. So, though I don't edit anything else you write (I wouldn't dream of it), I'd like to refer to the AP Stylebook when these issues arise.
3.) My third reason will probably upset some people, but it's the honest truth: Many LDS people don't watch R-rated films. I'm LDS and I do watch R-rated films. I never try to persuade an LDS person who chooses not to watch R-rated films to watch them. Indeed, much of the content of R-rated films (including profanity) is offensive to me. But alas, I am a movie critic. Nevertheless, I think many R-rated films have substantial merit, and I think it is regrettable that everyone cannot comfortably choose to enjoy any film. Therefore, in an attempt to discuss these great films with LDS people and other conservative film lovers, I hope this blog can be a way for those people to engage in those kinds of films. In short, I don't want to alienate those who avoid profanity. And those who wish to convey profanity are not alienated, either. They still can, but hopefully, they will through the AP Style method. And yes, anybody can plainly understand what is meant by a--hole, but the point is, my site doesn't actually have the word itself, and will not therefore come up on search engines. In other words, I don't want my blog to pop up anytime somebody Googles the "F-word."
4.) Lastly, and this could be debated till the cows come home (which, presumably, is pretty late), but I give it strictly as my opinion that there is a level of professionalism associated with those who can communicate effectively without such color metaphors (which is not to say that people who swear are not intelligent). But this group of contributors is remarkably scholarly, and quite capable of vigorous writing sans swearing. Yes, there are times when we'll need to quote from a film laced with profanity, which is fine, because the AP Style method allows us to sufficiently portray the quote.
5.) And I would note that I was never critical of any of you who have already posted or quoted profanity, I just quietly (though incorrectly) changed it with asterisks, preserving the original concept evidently, though not precisely. My censoring isn't meant, in any way, to be judgmental. Naturally.
I hope that answers your question. As always, feel free to comment and disagree.
Monday, August 4, 2008
BLOODY NICE
So, here's my take on Fargo, at last. For those of you eager to read this, sorry for the delay. Despite my previous facetious post, Fargo is actually one of my favorite films of all time. I love the characters and the dialog and the moral simplicity and the beautiful photography by Roger Deacons, but I also feel that this is a film with many layers and only multiple viewings could ever do it justice.
In his post, Travis mentions the term, "Minnesota nice" and gives some examples of local vernacular. I'd like to take this a step further by saying that the upper mid-western culture represented in Fargo is actually a main character in the film - weird, quirky, and nice. Bloody nice.
The "niceness" of the culture is passive-aggressive, setting the tone for every single action taken by every single character. "Minnesota nice" represents the status quo and the criminals represent the underbelly of "polite" cultures. Often times, overly polite cultures tend to be more oppressive, more intolerant, and more violent. Fargo is not only a great morality play, but a commentary on cultures and societies that alienate large portions of their citizenry through arbitrary customs like being overly polite. Jerry and his accomplices are citizens on the fringe of that culture, unable to connect; alienated by smiling faces and winterly landscapes.
What's scary about Fargo is that Jerry is such a schmuck. Yet, he's an every-man, and we identify with his predicament. He's caught in a system created by his locality (including his family and his inability to stand up for himself) and he feels trapped. People do really stupid things when they feel trapped. In this way, the real villain of Fargo, is the culture of upper mid-western America. Ignorance breeds sin and Jerry illustrates this very clearly. He's been insulated by his culture and is totally unfamiliar with real crime, even ignorant of his actions. Jerry commits his crimes without a clear sense of reality and because he lives in a "polite" culture, Jerry is virtually unfamiliar with criminality.
As Jerry's plan keeps getting fouled up by "nice" people, you begin to sense the doom that awaits him. This sense of dread is also a product of "Minnesota nice." There is something quite eerie about people who smile and act polite all the time in such a dreary environment. Their behavior has a "big brother" feel. As a result, the only characters in Fargo that feel real to audiences unfamiliar with the culture of upper mid-western America are the criminals. Audiences feel alienated by the politeness of the culture and laugh uncomfortably when Jerry and the two criminals don't play along.
I guess every town in America has its criminals. What's interesting is that the criminal behavior in Fargo actually says more about "Minnesota nice" than all of the smiles and accents. Fargo brilliantly uses criminal behavior as a kind of cultural analysis. The Cohens appear to be saying that "Minnesota nice" is actually kind of bloody. In this sense, I guess one could argue that the violence represents tensions in the culture that have been masked by the niceness.
I could say more, but I'm getting tired.
In his post, Travis mentions the term, "Minnesota nice" and gives some examples of local vernacular. I'd like to take this a step further by saying that the upper mid-western culture represented in Fargo is actually a main character in the film - weird, quirky, and nice. Bloody nice.
The "niceness" of the culture is passive-aggressive, setting the tone for every single action taken by every single character. "Minnesota nice" represents the status quo and the criminals represent the underbelly of "polite" cultures. Often times, overly polite cultures tend to be more oppressive, more intolerant, and more violent. Fargo is not only a great morality play, but a commentary on cultures and societies that alienate large portions of their citizenry through arbitrary customs like being overly polite. Jerry and his accomplices are citizens on the fringe of that culture, unable to connect; alienated by smiling faces and winterly landscapes.
What's scary about Fargo is that Jerry is such a schmuck. Yet, he's an every-man, and we identify with his predicament. He's caught in a system created by his locality (including his family and his inability to stand up for himself) and he feels trapped. People do really stupid things when they feel trapped. In this way, the real villain of Fargo, is the culture of upper mid-western America. Ignorance breeds sin and Jerry illustrates this very clearly. He's been insulated by his culture and is totally unfamiliar with real crime, even ignorant of his actions. Jerry commits his crimes without a clear sense of reality and because he lives in a "polite" culture, Jerry is virtually unfamiliar with criminality.
As Jerry's plan keeps getting fouled up by "nice" people, you begin to sense the doom that awaits him. This sense of dread is also a product of "Minnesota nice." There is something quite eerie about people who smile and act polite all the time in such a dreary environment. Their behavior has a "big brother" feel. As a result, the only characters in Fargo that feel real to audiences unfamiliar with the culture of upper mid-western America are the criminals. Audiences feel alienated by the politeness of the culture and laugh uncomfortably when Jerry and the two criminals don't play along.
I guess every town in America has its criminals. What's interesting is that the criminal behavior in Fargo actually says more about "Minnesota nice" than all of the smiles and accents. Fargo brilliantly uses criminal behavior as a kind of cultural analysis. The Cohens appear to be saying that "Minnesota nice" is actually kind of bloody. In this sense, I guess one could argue that the violence represents tensions in the culture that have been masked by the niceness.
I could say more, but I'm getting tired.
Bjork Thrives Best Hermit Style
by Jason Pyles
“I used to dream I was in a musical, ‘cause nothing dreadful ever happens … ”
This ironic line of dialogue from “Dancer in the Dark” should be enough reason for none of our Considering the Cinema members to pass on watching this film. Our weekly films aren’t mandatory, but this one should be.
Here Eleanor has selected what could be a poster child for unusual, discussion-worthy films. Bravo, El.
Filmed much like a documentary, “Dancer in the Dark” has a convincing appearance of verisimilitude; in other words, as we watch, it is easy to believe that we are watching real people behave, not just actors acting (which is also a credit to the cast).
And yet, the first musical number (of the seven total, full-blown musical productions) doesn’t begin until 40 minutes into the film. Neat.
But what is remarkable about this musical is its seeming realism. Most chirpy musicals have an unashamed artificiality to them. In this way, when the characters in these typical productions burst forth into song, we can kind of just go with it.
When “Dancer in the Dark” (an atypical musical, to say the least) derails for its musical numbers, it’s a little startling. But what keeps the contrast from becoming a train wreck each time is the fact that the song-and-dance performances aren’t actually happening in the film, they are only a part of Selma Jezkova’s (Bjork) coping-mechanism, escapist’s dream world.
And as a musician, I offer my useless opinion that the best song of the film is the second one, “I’ve Seen It All.” I particularly love the line, “You haven’t seen elephants, kings or Peru,” which was supposedly performed by Radiohead’s Thom Yorke, not Peter Stormare (“Fargo.”)
Speaking of cast members, I also enjoyed seeing the great French actress, Catherine Deneuve, of “The Umbrellas of Cherbourg” (1964) and “Belle de Jour” (1967) fame. This may be reaching, but I couldn’t help but wonder if the name of her character, “Kathy,” and the name of the son, “Gene,” had anything to do with “Singin’ in the Rain” (1952)? … Kathy Selden … Gene Kelly … another nod to musicals, perhaps?
Along with little tidbits like this, at times I couldn’t help but think I was seeing an homage to “Employees Leaving the Lumiere Factory” (1895), as well as the brothers’ “Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat” (1896). I wouldn’t put it past Lars von Trier. (That last sentence could be preceded by almost anything.)
“Dancer in the Dark” had me thinking on loftier matters, too. It is sweetly sad how the selfless mother in this film (Selma) sets aside her dreams, her safety and ultimately her own life for her son’s well-being and happiness. I don’t claim to have gained any special wisdom from my son’s birth, but as a new father of six months, this character’s sacrifice struck a chord with me.
And, as a new father, I also noted and felt somewhat comforted that this selfless mother also allowed herself brief episodes of escape into her dreams — outside her noble, parental duties. Ah, justification.
There is also a lot to be said (perhaps not by me) about the correlations and symbolism between vision and blindness. This film reminded me of the scripture, “Where there is no vision, the people perish.” (Proverbs 29:18) And I suppose one could insert “Justice is blind” in this movie somewhere, too.
Indeed, this film seems to be a blatant critique on the justice system — and the death penalty. Isn’t it fascinating (and frustrating) that everything said during Selma’s trial is the exact opposite of the truth? I am presently covering a murder trial for my newspaper, and I couldn’t help but think of this film today during the testimonials.
But what are we to make of that horrific, shocking murder scene? Somehow one of cinema’s gentlest caricatures of humanity is compelled to administer a grisly murder. I have to contest this and assert that Selma’s deed really pushed the credibility envelope. Despite her desperate mission to provide for her son’s surgery, I just can’t see this character doing such a thing. Can you?
On the other hand, I guess it’s neat that this blind character had such a clear, precise tunnel vision when it came to her primary objective. Here’s another believability question: Do we all believe that the son really did receive the surgery? Or were they lying to appease Selma? Tell me if I’ve missed something.
“Dancer in the Dark” is unsettling, to say the least, particularly the ending. But what else did we expect from a Bjork musical? Finally, she has images to match the brooding mood of her music.
“Dancer in the Dark” is somewhat of a paradoxical thing: a downbeat musical. Most musicals are syncopated, or upbeat … That was a little musician’s humor there. Very little.
“I used to dream I was in a musical, ‘cause nothing dreadful ever happens … ”
This ironic line of dialogue from “Dancer in the Dark” should be enough reason for none of our Considering the Cinema members to pass on watching this film. Our weekly films aren’t mandatory, but this one should be.
Here Eleanor has selected what could be a poster child for unusual, discussion-worthy films. Bravo, El.
Filmed much like a documentary, “Dancer in the Dark” has a convincing appearance of verisimilitude; in other words, as we watch, it is easy to believe that we are watching real people behave, not just actors acting (which is also a credit to the cast).
And yet, the first musical number (of the seven total, full-blown musical productions) doesn’t begin until 40 minutes into the film. Neat.
But what is remarkable about this musical is its seeming realism. Most chirpy musicals have an unashamed artificiality to them. In this way, when the characters in these typical productions burst forth into song, we can kind of just go with it.
When “Dancer in the Dark” (an atypical musical, to say the least) derails for its musical numbers, it’s a little startling. But what keeps the contrast from becoming a train wreck each time is the fact that the song-and-dance performances aren’t actually happening in the film, they are only a part of Selma Jezkova’s (Bjork) coping-mechanism, escapist’s dream world.
And as a musician, I offer my useless opinion that the best song of the film is the second one, “I’ve Seen It All.” I particularly love the line, “You haven’t seen elephants, kings or Peru,” which was supposedly performed by Radiohead’s Thom Yorke, not Peter Stormare (“Fargo.”)
Speaking of cast members, I also enjoyed seeing the great French actress, Catherine Deneuve, of “The Umbrellas of Cherbourg” (1964) and “Belle de Jour” (1967) fame. This may be reaching, but I couldn’t help but wonder if the name of her character, “Kathy,” and the name of the son, “Gene,” had anything to do with “Singin’ in the Rain” (1952)? … Kathy Selden … Gene Kelly … another nod to musicals, perhaps?
Along with little tidbits like this, at times I couldn’t help but think I was seeing an homage to “Employees Leaving the Lumiere Factory” (1895), as well as the brothers’ “Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat” (1896). I wouldn’t put it past Lars von Trier. (That last sentence could be preceded by almost anything.)
“Dancer in the Dark” had me thinking on loftier matters, too. It is sweetly sad how the selfless mother in this film (Selma) sets aside her dreams, her safety and ultimately her own life for her son’s well-being and happiness. I don’t claim to have gained any special wisdom from my son’s birth, but as a new father of six months, this character’s sacrifice struck a chord with me.
And, as a new father, I also noted and felt somewhat comforted that this selfless mother also allowed herself brief episodes of escape into her dreams — outside her noble, parental duties. Ah, justification.
There is also a lot to be said (perhaps not by me) about the correlations and symbolism between vision and blindness. This film reminded me of the scripture, “Where there is no vision, the people perish.” (Proverbs 29:18) And I suppose one could insert “Justice is blind” in this movie somewhere, too.
Indeed, this film seems to be a blatant critique on the justice system — and the death penalty. Isn’t it fascinating (and frustrating) that everything said during Selma’s trial is the exact opposite of the truth? I am presently covering a murder trial for my newspaper, and I couldn’t help but think of this film today during the testimonials.
But what are we to make of that horrific, shocking murder scene? Somehow one of cinema’s gentlest caricatures of humanity is compelled to administer a grisly murder. I have to contest this and assert that Selma’s deed really pushed the credibility envelope. Despite her desperate mission to provide for her son’s surgery, I just can’t see this character doing such a thing. Can you?
On the other hand, I guess it’s neat that this blind character had such a clear, precise tunnel vision when it came to her primary objective. Here’s another believability question: Do we all believe that the son really did receive the surgery? Or were they lying to appease Selma? Tell me if I’ve missed something.
“Dancer in the Dark” is unsettling, to say the least, particularly the ending. But what else did we expect from a Bjork musical? Finally, she has images to match the brooding mood of her music.
“Dancer in the Dark” is somewhat of a paradoxical thing: a downbeat musical. Most musicals are syncopated, or upbeat … That was a little musician’s humor there. Very little.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
FARGO KICKS BUTT AND I WILL EAT YOU ALIVE IF YOU DISAGREE WITH ME
Ahhh, Fargo. If only all movies were this good. I remember seeing this film for the first time on DVD about 6 years ago and I knew right then and there that it was a masterpiece.
Story: Check.
Editing: Check.
Acting: Check.
Directing: Check.
Cinematography: Check.
Masterpiece: Check.
But seriously, Fargo is just awesome. And man, I love awesome movies.
Story: Check.
Editing: Check.
Acting: Check.
Directing: Check.
Cinematography: Check.
Masterpiece: Check.
But seriously, Fargo is just awesome. And man, I love awesome movies.
Friday, August 1, 2008
-FARGO- (by Travis/Grabloid)
The Coen brothers have mastered the art of illustrating their characters through environment, pace, speech, and tone rather than strictly through dramatic action. The environment that we are taken through in the beginning (and throughout the whole film) sets everything up so well. We are placed in a setting so desperate, so unusual (and at the same time completely real/believable), that the Coen’s are permitted to do almost anything with their characters and we will be convinced by it. The midwestern accent and attitude (sometimes known as ‘Minnesota nice’ [‘darn-tootin’, ‘you-betcha’, ‘ah-sher’, ‘alrighty now’, and on and on]) adds to this greatly.
We are also heavily convinced by the disclaimer at the beginning which tells us that all of the events are exactly true to fact, etc. But in fact, that events are not completely true. The events are very loosely based on some police reports, everything else is imagined and created by the Coen’s. This was brought to my attention by Torben, who also posts on this site (as Torben B), which I’m sure he’ll also mention in his post (hopefully I’m not stealing his thunder). I think he discovered it on some insight while watching the movie (...how would’ve anybody known where/how Carl hid that money out in the snow by the barbed-wire fence...he hid it without telling anybody, and soon after was put into the wood-chipper). Torben’s questioning was validated by the extras he watched on the DVD. And as I look around online it appears to be so...it was just a tactic by the Coen’s to get us to suspend our disbelief that much more. Some people may be bothered by this, feeling deceived or betrayed, but I don’t mind it at all. There has recently been a big uproar about this in the publishing world about things being "published appropriately/honestly". Like, for instance, the James Frey books that you all probably heard about. Things can’t be published as “memoirs” (or as being ‘true’/’factual’) if there is any doubt to their ‘factualness’ or ‘truth’ whatsoever. I personally think that any amount of remembering and recording personal/historical events requires a certain amount of imagination and invention on the part of our fallible memories. That is what makes art interesting...a degree of mystery/creation/imagination. There was an interesting article in Harper’s Magazine that was recently brought to my attention that applies to this discussion...I posted it over on my blog, if you’d like to read it just click the link. I highly recommend it, it is called “A Lie That Tells the Truth” by Joel Agee. The title comes from a quote by Picasso: “Art is a lie that tells the truth.”
The only reason I would object to this kind of method is if it were to harm somebody else, put somebody else in the way of harm, or to intentionally deceive or cover something up that was important. The film Hotel Rwanda for instance, omitted some imperative facts (or I should say got the facts wrong...or just straight lied about/covered up certain things) about the Rwandan genocide, which disturbs me very much. Particularly, how it portrayed the UN, and certain factual events concerning the UN's involvement. A story that horrific and important should be told as close to what really happened as possible, otherwise it shouldn't be masked as being factual, or relating to an actual incident. If you are interested in this stuff concerning Hotel Rwanda, to start, CLICK HERE. I could (and would love to) go on about this, but it’s a bit to tangential here. So, if you are interested in either of those conversations, we could go on about it in the comments.
Hotel Rwanda told lies that covered up the truth, harm done. In the case of Fargo, I would say "no harm, no foul". So, in light of Fargo's newly discovered (to me) not-so-true-to-fact nature, I don’t think it changes the power and amazing-ness of the film. In fact, I would only say that even more credit is then due to the Coen’s for constructing and creating such a well filmed, perfectly edited, tightly knit story. The Coen’s shoot scenes in an incredibly economic way. Almost every shot is set-up in such a way that a minimal amount of cutting and shifting around has to be done, while also giving the maximum amount of necessary information in each frame. The way that they are able to build suspense is beyond me. Fargo is very masterful and methodical suspense. The Coen's really perfected it in their newest film “No Country For Old Men”. In "No Country For Old Men", they take suspense to a whole new level, AND with no identifiable musical score or tension building sound! (Outside of the field sound they gather and the sound that is directly connected to what appears on screen.) The absence of music and sound effects in that movie actually ends up increasing the tension.
Something else that I wanted to talk about in response to some of the other posts is Fargo’s dark humor. I think the humor in Fargo is brilliant, not to mention ridiculously funny. The silly little moments of humor like...:
Carl: Shep said you'd be here at 7:30. What gives, man?
Jerry: Shep said 8:30.
Carl: We've been sitting here an hour. He's peed three times already.
...are countless, and are due to incredible writing. I have to also mention the hilarious exchange in the car where Carl endlessly threatens Grimsrud:
“I don't have to talk, either, man...........see how you like it...........just total f****n' silence................two can play at that game, smart guy................we'll just see how you like it....................total silence.” Hahaha!
But outside of this sort of easy going humor, Fargo has a lot of humor of a much more visceral type. The interesting dark humor, where we laugh in ugly and cruel situations is rather disturbing to some. I think that our response to laugh in these situations is rather complex. Laughing at it can be a way of distancing ourselves from the horror of what we are experiencing. If we can’t laugh, or if we repress laughter, then we have to really deal with the horror of what is on screen...and who wants to do that? It can just be the silliness of a strange juxtaposition (comic relief), for example: Jean looking stupid and blindly running around in the snow in the midst of her kidnapping by two heartless/murdering bastards. Of course, this is a very intentional tactic executed by the directors. In my mind this doesn’t suggest the “twisted-ness” of the directors, or the material itself. Rather, it is projected (quite literally) upon us as viewers and we are now in the “situation”. What is our response? Does our reaction to the material say more about us than it does about the material/makers of the material? I think so. We might be a little sick if we were laughing at Jean because we know her fate (Carl). We might only be silly if we are laughing at the way she’s running around, which seems absurd in the situation she is in (also, Carl?). If we don’t laugh at all, and we get scared, maybe we have some deep rooted fear of being victimized in a similar way. Or, if we don't laugh maybe we are deeply disturbed...Grimsrud isn’t laughing, and I think it is because he is inhuman, he’s a cruel, barbarous person who doesn't laugh at anything. (LATER ADDITION: or was Grimsrud really laughing? On my second thought I can't recall for certain....)
When you really think about it, most jokes we make are on account of somebody else’s misfortune or loss, what is that about?
I’d like to go on into the character development and so forth, but the other posts did a good job of that. I just want to quickly point out that almost every one of the major characters is sort of acting out of their stereotype in complex ways. Most interestingly (in my opinion), Jerry, the iconic car salesman who will do whatever he can to make the deal, and to make a buck...including using his wife as a hostage/decoy.
What a great film!
I'm looking looking forward to the Coen’s next film, "Burn After Reading"? I think it is coming out in September. (Click this link to see the trailer for it, which looks great). I would have to say my favorite Coen brothers film so far is "The Big Lebowski", what do the rest of you think?
We are also heavily convinced by the disclaimer at the beginning which tells us that all of the events are exactly true to fact, etc. But in fact, that events are not completely true. The events are very loosely based on some police reports, everything else is imagined and created by the Coen’s. This was brought to my attention by Torben, who also posts on this site (as Torben B), which I’m sure he’ll also mention in his post (hopefully I’m not stealing his thunder). I think he discovered it on some insight while watching the movie (...how would’ve anybody known where/how Carl hid that money out in the snow by the barbed-wire fence...he hid it without telling anybody, and soon after was put into the wood-chipper). Torben’s questioning was validated by the extras he watched on the DVD. And as I look around online it appears to be so...it was just a tactic by the Coen’s to get us to suspend our disbelief that much more. Some people may be bothered by this, feeling deceived or betrayed, but I don’t mind it at all. There has recently been a big uproar about this in the publishing world about things being "published appropriately/honestly". Like, for instance, the James Frey books that you all probably heard about. Things can’t be published as “memoirs” (or as being ‘true’/’factual’) if there is any doubt to their ‘factualness’ or ‘truth’ whatsoever. I personally think that any amount of remembering and recording personal/historical events requires a certain amount of imagination and invention on the part of our fallible memories. That is what makes art interesting...a degree of mystery/creation/imagination. There was an interesting article in Harper’s Magazine that was recently brought to my attention that applies to this discussion...I posted it over on my blog, if you’d like to read it just click the link. I highly recommend it, it is called “A Lie That Tells the Truth” by Joel Agee. The title comes from a quote by Picasso: “Art is a lie that tells the truth.”
The only reason I would object to this kind of method is if it were to harm somebody else, put somebody else in the way of harm, or to intentionally deceive or cover something up that was important. The film Hotel Rwanda for instance, omitted some imperative facts (or I should say got the facts wrong...or just straight lied about/covered up certain things) about the Rwandan genocide, which disturbs me very much. Particularly, how it portrayed the UN, and certain factual events concerning the UN's involvement. A story that horrific and important should be told as close to what really happened as possible, otherwise it shouldn't be masked as being factual, or relating to an actual incident. If you are interested in this stuff concerning Hotel Rwanda, to start, CLICK HERE. I could (and would love to) go on about this, but it’s a bit to tangential here. So, if you are interested in either of those conversations, we could go on about it in the comments.
Hotel Rwanda told lies that covered up the truth, harm done. In the case of Fargo, I would say "no harm, no foul". So, in light of Fargo's newly discovered (to me) not-so-true-to-fact nature, I don’t think it changes the power and amazing-ness of the film. In fact, I would only say that even more credit is then due to the Coen’s for constructing and creating such a well filmed, perfectly edited, tightly knit story. The Coen’s shoot scenes in an incredibly economic way. Almost every shot is set-up in such a way that a minimal amount of cutting and shifting around has to be done, while also giving the maximum amount of necessary information in each frame. The way that they are able to build suspense is beyond me. Fargo is very masterful and methodical suspense. The Coen's really perfected it in their newest film “No Country For Old Men”. In "No Country For Old Men", they take suspense to a whole new level, AND with no identifiable musical score or tension building sound! (Outside of the field sound they gather and the sound that is directly connected to what appears on screen.) The absence of music and sound effects in that movie actually ends up increasing the tension.
Something else that I wanted to talk about in response to some of the other posts is Fargo’s dark humor. I think the humor in Fargo is brilliant, not to mention ridiculously funny. The silly little moments of humor like...:
Carl: Shep said you'd be here at 7:30. What gives, man?
Jerry: Shep said 8:30.
Carl: We've been sitting here an hour. He's peed three times already.
...are countless, and are due to incredible writing. I have to also mention the hilarious exchange in the car where Carl endlessly threatens Grimsrud:
“I don't have to talk, either, man...........see how you like it...........just total f****n' silence................two can play at that game, smart guy................we'll just see how you like it....................total silence.” Hahaha!
But outside of this sort of easy going humor, Fargo has a lot of humor of a much more visceral type. The interesting dark humor, where we laugh in ugly and cruel situations is rather disturbing to some. I think that our response to laugh in these situations is rather complex. Laughing at it can be a way of distancing ourselves from the horror of what we are experiencing. If we can’t laugh, or if we repress laughter, then we have to really deal with the horror of what is on screen...and who wants to do that? It can just be the silliness of a strange juxtaposition (comic relief), for example: Jean looking stupid and blindly running around in the snow in the midst of her kidnapping by two heartless/murdering bastards. Of course, this is a very intentional tactic executed by the directors. In my mind this doesn’t suggest the “twisted-ness” of the directors, or the material itself. Rather, it is projected (quite literally) upon us as viewers and we are now in the “situation”. What is our response? Does our reaction to the material say more about us than it does about the material/makers of the material? I think so. We might be a little sick if we were laughing at Jean because we know her fate (Carl). We might only be silly if we are laughing at the way she’s running around, which seems absurd in the situation she is in (also, Carl?). If we don’t laugh at all, and we get scared, maybe we have some deep rooted fear of being victimized in a similar way. Or, if we don't laugh maybe we are deeply disturbed...Grimsrud isn’t laughing, and I think it is because he is inhuman, he’s a cruel, barbarous person who doesn't laugh at anything. (LATER ADDITION: or was Grimsrud really laughing? On my second thought I can't recall for certain....)
When you really think about it, most jokes we make are on account of somebody else’s misfortune or loss, what is that about?
I’d like to go on into the character development and so forth, but the other posts did a good job of that. I just want to quickly point out that almost every one of the major characters is sort of acting out of their stereotype in complex ways. Most interestingly (in my opinion), Jerry, the iconic car salesman who will do whatever he can to make the deal, and to make a buck...including using his wife as a hostage/decoy.
What a great film!
I'm looking looking forward to the Coen’s next film, "Burn After Reading"? I think it is coming out in September. (Click this link to see the trailer for it, which looks great). I would have to say my favorite Coen brothers film so far is "The Big Lebowski", what do the rest of you think?
Fargo - Coen Brothers at their finest
"Oh My! He's fleeing the interview!" It's brilliant lines like this - one after the other - that just make the characters as rich as they get in moviedom. Andy and I watched this together and were commenting all along the way... about it's brilliance.
I mentioned that you know the directing and acting are superb when for example the scene where Marge and her old high school friend are having lunch and you literally feel as awkward as they do!
I've often wondered if Joel Coen knew Francis McDormand would be perfect as Marge because he is married to her (and had been for 12 years prior to making this film) or if he had her try the role out to make sure :)
Every character is this film is so well cast, that by this point you cannot imagine anyone else playing them.
Not being a film critic myself (other than my own usual meandering insights) there is not much more to say about this movie other than it is one of the most engaging character studies I have ever seen. Not to mention a primer on how not to conduct a kidnapping!
I think my favorite point is how most outsiders would dismiss Marge as bumbling mom-to-be and yet her keen insights and gut instinct help her solve what could easily have been an unsolved mystery.
If only more movies were this perfectly written, directed and acted.
-Karl
I mentioned that you know the directing and acting are superb when for example the scene where Marge and her old high school friend are having lunch and you literally feel as awkward as they do!
I've often wondered if Joel Coen knew Francis McDormand would be perfect as Marge because he is married to her (and had been for 12 years prior to making this film) or if he had her try the role out to make sure :)
Every character is this film is so well cast, that by this point you cannot imagine anyone else playing them.
Not being a film critic myself (other than my own usual meandering insights) there is not much more to say about this movie other than it is one of the most engaging character studies I have ever seen. Not to mention a primer on how not to conduct a kidnapping!
I think my favorite point is how most outsiders would dismiss Marge as bumbling mom-to-be and yet her keen insights and gut instinct help her solve what could easily have been an unsolved mystery.
If only more movies were this perfectly written, directed and acted.
-Karl
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