I like this, from The New York Times:
"Hitting someone with a shoe is a strong insult in Iraq. It means the person is as low as the dirt underneath the sole of a shoe..."
Monday, December 15, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
The Yearling (1946)--3/5
Life is cruel. Haven’t you heard? “The Yearling” works hard to remind us. If you even make it past infancy, you get to contend with nineteen-toed bears, coiled rattlesnakes, and inbred neighbors. Or you could just stop breathing, like Jody’s (Claude Jarman, Jr.) only friend, Fodderwing.
These are just the horrors visited upon humans in the film. Nature in “The Yearling” is a less-mediated circle of death. Flag the Fawn’s mother is hanging around the wrong clearing when Pa (Gregory Peck) is bit by a rattlesnake. He shoots her down to rub her heart and liver on his wound. (Does this work? And: gross.)
The most surprising thing about “The Yearling” is how long it takes for the title deer, Flag, to appear. The first hour is crucial to what comes later because the Baxter family’s subsistence is underlined—again and again and again. One eaten crop leads to lost revenue leads to possible starvation. Flag, unable to live anywhere else, is nonetheless informed by instinct. Jumping over a ten-foot fence, he eats the Baxter’s corn twice. What has to happen is no surprise; “The Yearling” is number three on The A.V. Club’s list, “Nine Classic Instances of Animal Snuff for Kids.”
The first hour is also superior. Without the melodrama of the deer, the actions of daily farm life move at a leisurely, unforced pace. One day Pa and Jody go into town. On another, they help with the wash. These mundane activities are made appealing by the quality of the filmmaking and Gregory Peck’s reliable gravitas. The lack of a clear endpoint in this section is novel in a children’s film.
“The Yearling” comes with a certification from the American Humane Society during the end credits. As evidenced by the injury undoubtedly done to animals in the film, the standards were way different back in 1946. Pa and Jody take their dogs out a-huntin’* the bear that’s killed their livestock (more death!). For sure, we think, the filmmakers won’t actually set two excited dogs on a bear. It’ll all be done with fancy cuts and movie magic. No such luck. For five excruciating minutes, the dogs jump on and swipe at the bear. He, in turn, envelops the dogs and attempts to break them in two. I think the animals would have rather played the odds in real nature.
*The dialogue in “The Yearling” is spoken in a strangely compelling 1940’s approximation of common-folk patois of the 1800’s. Favorite line: “That’s a mighty skimpity prayer!”
These are just the horrors visited upon humans in the film. Nature in “The Yearling” is a less-mediated circle of death. Flag the Fawn’s mother is hanging around the wrong clearing when Pa (Gregory Peck) is bit by a rattlesnake. He shoots her down to rub her heart and liver on his wound. (Does this work? And: gross.)
The most surprising thing about “The Yearling” is how long it takes for the title deer, Flag, to appear. The first hour is crucial to what comes later because the Baxter family’s subsistence is underlined—again and again and again. One eaten crop leads to lost revenue leads to possible starvation. Flag, unable to live anywhere else, is nonetheless informed by instinct. Jumping over a ten-foot fence, he eats the Baxter’s corn twice. What has to happen is no surprise; “The Yearling” is number three on The A.V. Club’s list, “Nine Classic Instances of Animal Snuff for Kids.”
The first hour is also superior. Without the melodrama of the deer, the actions of daily farm life move at a leisurely, unforced pace. One day Pa and Jody go into town. On another, they help with the wash. These mundane activities are made appealing by the quality of the filmmaking and Gregory Peck’s reliable gravitas. The lack of a clear endpoint in this section is novel in a children’s film.
“The Yearling” comes with a certification from the American Humane Society during the end credits. As evidenced by the injury undoubtedly done to animals in the film, the standards were way different back in 1946. Pa and Jody take their dogs out a-huntin’* the bear that’s killed their livestock (more death!). For sure, we think, the filmmakers won’t actually set two excited dogs on a bear. It’ll all be done with fancy cuts and movie magic. No such luck. For five excruciating minutes, the dogs jump on and swipe at the bear. He, in turn, envelops the dogs and attempts to break them in two. I think the animals would have rather played the odds in real nature.
*The dialogue in “The Yearling” is spoken in a strangely compelling 1940’s approximation of common-folk patois of the 1800’s. Favorite line: “That’s a mighty skimpity prayer!”
"Aww. Now I must shoot you, I reckon."
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
LOL (2006)--2/5
Joe Swanberg has managed to eke a career in the margins of the so-called “mumblecore” film movement. His films, along with those of Andrew Bujalski (“Mutual Appreciation”) and the Duplass brothers (“The Puffy Chair”), are defined by their ultra-low budgets, improvised dialogue, and mundane situations. They’re almost all the same. Once in a while, a thoughtful insight peeks through the awkward action and dialogue. Mostly, they’re exercises in urban navel-gazing and narcissism—entitled white kids rebelling by lazing around shitty, overpriced apartments.
The films can be effective time capsules of this phenomenon. Since the point is quickly grasped, the first film in this genre viewed by anyone—“Mutual Appreciation” for me—will probably be the best.
One more thing: The characters in “mumblecore” films all date women way out of their league—cast, no doubt, because they’re unobtainable to the filmmakers. The excitement of being in a Real Movie legitimizes the gratuitous, “naturalistic” sex scenes prevalent throughout. It’s all kind of smarmy, to say the least.
The same actors playing the same characters in Swanberg’s “LOL” are used to lazily show the effects of technology on the male libido. Swanberg plays a jerk in love with his PowerBook. He chats with friends sitting next to him and looks to the computer’s screen while making out with his girlfriend. Kevin Bewersdorf plays a jerkier jerk who makes music out of invented instruments and found sounds. He lies to an interested girl about a tour he’s going on just to get a ride to St. Louis. In reality, he may or may not be meeting up with an Internet porn crush he’s been emailing. Yeah. The plotlines are all left open. These losers will continue to shuffle—and mumble!—through every opportunity given to them.
More fascinating than any ostensible plot in “LOL” is the music made by Bewersdorf. In a sparsely-attended living room show, he creates a thrilling cacophony with voice loops, percussive slaps of the microphone, and a keyboard. Since we see him performing, character and actor are the same here. During the film, he asks the people he meets to make sounds—any sounds—on camera. From these collected voices, he composes inventive music and video collages used as scene breaks. Where’s the documentary on this guy?
The films can be effective time capsules of this phenomenon. Since the point is quickly grasped, the first film in this genre viewed by anyone—“Mutual Appreciation” for me—will probably be the best.
One more thing: The characters in “mumblecore” films all date women way out of their league—cast, no doubt, because they’re unobtainable to the filmmakers. The excitement of being in a Real Movie legitimizes the gratuitous, “naturalistic” sex scenes prevalent throughout. It’s all kind of smarmy, to say the least.
The same actors playing the same characters in Swanberg’s “LOL” are used to lazily show the effects of technology on the male libido. Swanberg plays a jerk in love with his PowerBook. He chats with friends sitting next to him and looks to the computer’s screen while making out with his girlfriend. Kevin Bewersdorf plays a jerkier jerk who makes music out of invented instruments and found sounds. He lies to an interested girl about a tour he’s going on just to get a ride to St. Louis. In reality, he may or may not be meeting up with an Internet porn crush he’s been emailing. Yeah. The plotlines are all left open. These losers will continue to shuffle—and mumble!—through every opportunity given to them.
More fascinating than any ostensible plot in “LOL” is the music made by Bewersdorf. In a sparsely-attended living room show, he creates a thrilling cacophony with voice loops, percussive slaps of the microphone, and a keyboard. Since we see him performing, character and actor are the same here. During the film, he asks the people he meets to make sounds—any sounds—on camera. From these collected voices, he composes inventive music and video collages used as scene breaks. Where’s the documentary on this guy?
Monday, December 8, 2008
Encounters at the End of the World (2007)--4/5
Leave it to Werner Herzog to make travel diary footage this entertaining. Of course, it helps that he’s an iconoclastic genius and his trip is to Antarctica. “Encounters at the End of the World” further documents Herzog’s kinship with those who willingly endure the extremes of the world.
Although initially mesmerized by the stark beauty of under-the-ice stock footage, Herzog’s interests gravitate towards the inhabitants of Antarctica. In the ugly, industrial McMurdo Station,* he meets a “philosopher/forklift driver.” This man’s imagery of people falling to the bottom of the world (“How did you end up in Antarctica?”) is repeated often by others.
The shots of “fluffy penguins” in “Encounters” are not about the beauty of nature. With a straight face, Herzog asks the resident penguin-communer whether he’s witnessed insanity in the birds. He says no, but Herzog’s not so sure. He finds a lone penguin marching towards certain death in the mountains. Any attempt to correct its course, says the expert, would be futile.
Did the early Antarctic explorers—Shackleton and Scott, in particular—have an affinity with this penguin? In the broadest sense, yes. They all traveled an irregular path to encounter hardship or death. However, the penguin does it out of confusion or misfiring synapses. The humans willingly took on the journey. Herzog, while fascinated with the impulse, derides it as a hubristic exercise. Can no part of the globe be unsullied by people?, he asks.
I think Herzog would be the first to admit that he is unable to fight this impulse; it’s a foundational part of his being. Only age has tamped down his wildest exploits.
In "Encounters,” he travels only to “safe” places already inhabited by humans. Legendary, though, are Herzog’s past exploits in film. The 1969 documentary/tone poem “Fata Morgana” follows him through the African desert. In “Fitzcarraldo,” he tells the story of a man who moved a boat over a Peruvian mountain by…moving a boat over a Peruvian mountain. A loopy woman at McMurdo tells of a similar past, including dangerous transits through Africa (in a garbage truck) and South America (in a strapped-down sewer pipe). Wherever he vacations, Werner Herzog quickly finds his soul mates.
*It has the “abominations” of aerobics and yoga classes.
Although initially mesmerized by the stark beauty of under-the-ice stock footage, Herzog’s interests gravitate towards the inhabitants of Antarctica. In the ugly, industrial McMurdo Station,* he meets a “philosopher/forklift driver.” This man’s imagery of people falling to the bottom of the world (“How did you end up in Antarctica?”) is repeated often by others.
The shots of “fluffy penguins” in “Encounters” are not about the beauty of nature. With a straight face, Herzog asks the resident penguin-communer whether he’s witnessed insanity in the birds. He says no, but Herzog’s not so sure. He finds a lone penguin marching towards certain death in the mountains. Any attempt to correct its course, says the expert, would be futile.
Did the early Antarctic explorers—Shackleton and Scott, in particular—have an affinity with this penguin? In the broadest sense, yes. They all traveled an irregular path to encounter hardship or death. However, the penguin does it out of confusion or misfiring synapses. The humans willingly took on the journey. Herzog, while fascinated with the impulse, derides it as a hubristic exercise. Can no part of the globe be unsullied by people?, he asks.
I think Herzog would be the first to admit that he is unable to fight this impulse; it’s a foundational part of his being. Only age has tamped down his wildest exploits.
In "Encounters,” he travels only to “safe” places already inhabited by humans. Legendary, though, are Herzog’s past exploits in film. The 1969 documentary/tone poem “Fata Morgana” follows him through the African desert. In “Fitzcarraldo,” he tells the story of a man who moved a boat over a Peruvian mountain by…moving a boat over a Peruvian mountain. A loopy woman at McMurdo tells of a similar past, including dangerous transits through Africa (in a garbage truck) and South America (in a strapped-down sewer pipe). Wherever he vacations, Werner Herzog quickly finds his soul mates.
*It has the “abominations” of aerobics and yoga classes.
An archetypal Herzog monologue from "Burden of Dreams."
Friday, December 5, 2008
Get Smart (2008)--2/5
“Get Smart,” a textbook case of mediocrity, is forgettable while being watched. Let’s see what I can still remember…(cue “Wayne’s World” special effect).
“Get Smart” is not a parody of anything. At best, it’s a mildly diverting action movie with a few laughs. The attempted- to successful-humor ratio is on par with “Transformers,” which wasn’t billed as a comedy. Full minutes go by in “Get Smart” without even a painful, failed joke.
Steve Carell is Maxwell Smart, the role made famous by Don Adams. Since I’ve seen very little of the original “Get Smart” series—and because I’m lazy—I’m going to assume that Don Adams’ second most famous character, Inspector Gadget, is just like Smart. In the irritating self-titled series, the incompetent Gadget only succeeds in confounding Dr. Claw because of his niece, Penny and her dog, Brain. The concept has merit if it’s not repeated eighty-six* times.
The problem with the new version of Maxwell Smart is that he’s inconsistently inept. He’s an expert marksman, he passes the agent exam flawlessly, and he’s skilled in information gathering. Only when it serves the plot—or serves up a lame sight-gag—is he a total moron.
In the laziest casting move, Patrick Warburton shows up in a cameo in “Get Smart” as a robotic strongman. Of all the “Seinfeld” bit-players, Warburton has coasted the most on his one-dimensional character.** Every role he’s had since has been a slight and less-funny variation on Puddy. If Warburton does have range, he’s never been able to show it. He’s always cast as “that Seinfeld guy.”
*The number of “Inspector Gadget” episodes.
**John O’Hurley, J. Peterman on “Seinfeld,” is now a part owner of the real J. Peterman company!
Maxwell Smart fights Cylons in “The Nude Bomb.” Wowsers!
“Get Smart” is not a parody of anything. At best, it’s a mildly diverting action movie with a few laughs. The attempted- to successful-humor ratio is on par with “Transformers,” which wasn’t billed as a comedy. Full minutes go by in “Get Smart” without even a painful, failed joke.
Steve Carell is Maxwell Smart, the role made famous by Don Adams. Since I’ve seen very little of the original “Get Smart” series—and because I’m lazy—I’m going to assume that Don Adams’ second most famous character, Inspector Gadget, is just like Smart. In the irritating self-titled series, the incompetent Gadget only succeeds in confounding Dr. Claw because of his niece, Penny and her dog, Brain. The concept has merit if it’s not repeated eighty-six* times.
The problem with the new version of Maxwell Smart is that he’s inconsistently inept. He’s an expert marksman, he passes the agent exam flawlessly, and he’s skilled in information gathering. Only when it serves the plot—or serves up a lame sight-gag—is he a total moron.
In the laziest casting move, Patrick Warburton shows up in a cameo in “Get Smart” as a robotic strongman. Of all the “Seinfeld” bit-players, Warburton has coasted the most on his one-dimensional character.** Every role he’s had since has been a slight and less-funny variation on Puddy. If Warburton does have range, he’s never been able to show it. He’s always cast as “that Seinfeld guy.”
*The number of “Inspector Gadget” episodes.
**John O’Hurley, J. Peterman on “Seinfeld,” is now a part owner of the real J. Peterman company!
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Bolt (2008)--3/5
In “Bolt,” the title dog and his friends travel to Hollywood’s favorite locales: Hollywood, of course, and New York City, “Ohio,” and Las Vegas. The predictability in location choice extends to the scope of the film. “Bolt” is a slight entertainment.
One thing about “Ohio:” Remember the “Seinfeld” episode in which Newman and Kramer drive a mail truck full of empty bottles to Michigan? They stop in Ohio at a farmhouse and Newman gets into trouble with the famer’s daughter. Yeah, that’s what most people think Ohio is like. “Bolt’s” Ohio is no different: small towns and farmland.
“Bolt” is the first CG Disney movie made under the aegis of Pixar. John Lasseter, Pixar’s resident auteur, is credited as an Executive Producer. The Pixar effect is seen in Bolt’s central conflict. He thinks that he’s actually a genetically modified super-dog and eventually learns that he’s not. This still works, but it’s a little to close to Buzz Lightyear’s arc to be an original concept.
Often, behind-the-scenes employees are cast in small or cameo parts in animated films. Andrew Stanton, the director of “Finding Nemo,” plays Crush, the sea turtle in that film. Bud Luckey, an animator, plays Agent Rick Dicker in “The Incredibles.”*
None of these touch the brilliant casting of Mark Walton, an animator, as Rhino, the Bolt-worshipping hamster in a ball. When excited, Rhino’s tenor soars into squeaks and giggles. It’s just like a hamster would talk. Walton’s original temp track proved so funny that the directors chose to officially hire him. This bodes well for finally ending the trend of inappropriate celebrity voice-casting. If “Bolt” were a “Shrek” movie, Walton’s reading would be trashed in favor of Andy Dick caterwauling towards the microphone.
*He also made “The Ladybugs’ Picnic” and many other Sesame Street shorts.
One thing about “Ohio:” Remember the “Seinfeld” episode in which Newman and Kramer drive a mail truck full of empty bottles to Michigan? They stop in Ohio at a farmhouse and Newman gets into trouble with the famer’s daughter. Yeah, that’s what most people think Ohio is like. “Bolt’s” Ohio is no different: small towns and farmland.
“Bolt” is the first CG Disney movie made under the aegis of Pixar. John Lasseter, Pixar’s resident auteur, is credited as an Executive Producer. The Pixar effect is seen in Bolt’s central conflict. He thinks that he’s actually a genetically modified super-dog and eventually learns that he’s not. This still works, but it’s a little to close to Buzz Lightyear’s arc to be an original concept.
Often, behind-the-scenes employees are cast in small or cameo parts in animated films. Andrew Stanton, the director of “Finding Nemo,” plays Crush, the sea turtle in that film. Bud Luckey, an animator, plays Agent Rick Dicker in “The Incredibles.”*
None of these touch the brilliant casting of Mark Walton, an animator, as Rhino, the Bolt-worshipping hamster in a ball. When excited, Rhino’s tenor soars into squeaks and giggles. It’s just like a hamster would talk. Walton’s original temp track proved so funny that the directors chose to officially hire him. This bodes well for finally ending the trend of inappropriate celebrity voice-casting. If “Bolt” were a “Shrek” movie, Walton’s reading would be trashed in favor of Andy Dick caterwauling towards the microphone.
*He also made “The Ladybugs’ Picnic” and many other Sesame Street shorts.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Up the Yangtze (2007)--3/5
Stylistically, “Up the Yangtze” is a bold new documentary. It’s free of excessive talking heads and narration. These two elements are used sparsely as embellishments, not as necessary explication.
In the film, the Three Gorges Dam serves as an inexorable villain and a creator of cruel ironies. Yu Shui is the teen daughter of dirt-poor* itinerant farmers. Prior to the opening of the film, the rising waters of the Dam have forced the family out of a major city and to the opposite side of the river. They share a glorified lean-to with starving, scruffy cats. To support the family, and in lieu of further education, Yu Shui is forced to work on a cruise ship. She is given a Romanized name (Cindy) and washes the dishes of American tourists gawking at the rising flood.
We are constantly told that the Three Gorges Dam is for the good of the people.
“Up the Yangtze” is most effective when simply showing the terrifying beauty of the rising waters. In a somber time-lapse** segment, the waters slowly creep over Yu Shui’s family’s shack. (They have to move. Again.) Initially, the shack can be seen under the water. No trace remains in the end.
Relying only on the events captured in vivo, Chang reveals the nature of documentary vs. narrative filmmaking. Making one in the style of the other is not the solution here. Too often, opaque scenes of daily life and snippets of conversation stand in for a driving narrative.
And anyway, Chang’s ideas about serendipity and the sanctity of the image as it is captured ring false. Yu Shui works on the same cruise ship as Chen Bo Yu (Jerry). In Yu Shui’s opening scenes, we are led to believe that her departure is not foretold. The director knew the disposition of Chen Bo Yu and Yu Shui’s family before he started making the film. Any pretense to the contrary is untrue.
“Up the Yangtze” is still a worthwhile, educational film. Yung Chang’s dogma only reduces the powerful impact of the environmental decimation on display.
*Literally--the floor of their house is dirt.
**It may not actually be time-lapse. Rather, regular speed shots are separated by cuts of many hours. Regardless, it has the same effect as time-lapse.
In the film, the Three Gorges Dam serves as an inexorable villain and a creator of cruel ironies. Yu Shui is the teen daughter of dirt-poor* itinerant farmers. Prior to the opening of the film, the rising waters of the Dam have forced the family out of a major city and to the opposite side of the river. They share a glorified lean-to with starving, scruffy cats. To support the family, and in lieu of further education, Yu Shui is forced to work on a cruise ship. She is given a Romanized name (Cindy) and washes the dishes of American tourists gawking at the rising flood.
We are constantly told that the Three Gorges Dam is for the good of the people.
“Up the Yangtze” is most effective when simply showing the terrifying beauty of the rising waters. In a somber time-lapse** segment, the waters slowly creep over Yu Shui’s family’s shack. (They have to move. Again.) Initially, the shack can be seen under the water. No trace remains in the end.
Relying only on the events captured in vivo, Chang reveals the nature of documentary vs. narrative filmmaking. Making one in the style of the other is not the solution here. Too often, opaque scenes of daily life and snippets of conversation stand in for a driving narrative.
And anyway, Chang’s ideas about serendipity and the sanctity of the image as it is captured ring false. Yu Shui works on the same cruise ship as Chen Bo Yu (Jerry). In Yu Shui’s opening scenes, we are led to believe that her departure is not foretold. The director knew the disposition of Chen Bo Yu and Yu Shui’s family before he started making the film. Any pretense to the contrary is untrue.
“Up the Yangtze” is still a worthwhile, educational film. Yung Chang’s dogma only reduces the powerful impact of the environmental decimation on display.
*Literally--the floor of their house is dirt.
**It may not actually be time-lapse. Rather, regular speed shots are separated by cuts of many hours. Regardless, it has the same effect as time-lapse.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
