I have made a very strange discovery today. At the half-hearted request of my friend Will to watch the Paris Hilton video for her song "Stars Are Blind", I obliged. Though I can't find confirmation from googling director Chris Applebaum, it seems that someone involved in the creative process seemed to think that ripping off and/or paying homage to a famous scene from Antonioni's Blow Up was a good idea. So without further ado:
Whit Stillman's first feature, a comedy of manners about a group of wealthy upper-class Manhattan teenagers during Christmas vacation, is simultaneously a hysterically sharp satire and endearing love letter to the young bourgeoisie. Based on personal experiences from his youth (and oddly, Mansfield Park by Jane Austen), Stillman never stoops to a level of cynicism in his pseudo-satirical portrayal -- instead focusing on the the repressed and guarded nature of people born into a life of unattainable expectations. The group of characters are largely despicable in their selfishness and in the importance they place in social status -- but Stillman transcends the boundaries of class snobbery by employing highly relatable growing-up themes of romance, uncertainty, gossip, class consciousness, et al. Stillman's simplistic and glossy approach recalls the films Leo McCarey, though not without its kinks -- the awkwardness of scene transitions and cutting screams amateur, but not in a terribly distracting way.
Sophisticated, witty, and earnest,Metropolitan is in many ways a precursor to the more well known (and later) films of Noah Baumbach (Kicking and Screaming, The Squid and the Whale) and Wes Anderson (Rushmore). The excellent cast of newcomers includes Carolyn Farina, Edward Clements, Taylor Nichols, Elizabeth Thompson, and Baumbach/Stillman regular Christopher Eigeman.
The Enigma of Kasper Hauser a.k.a. Every Man For Himself and God Against All (JederfürsichundGottgegenalle, Werner Herzog, 1974)
Based on the true story of a boy who, having been locked away all his life void of human contact, appeared mysteriously in Nuremberg in 1828. One of Werner Herzog's more sentimental films, it deals patiently (and painfully) with the process of Kasper's socialization. Herzog takes no prisoners -- challenging religion, logic, among other societal standards on Kasper's journey to becoming a "member" of society, only to be mysteriously stabbed to death. Void of the well-worn Herzogian irony, Kasper Hauserfunctions differently from much of his other work, most notably in its sincerity-- aided by the casting of street-performer turned actor Bruno S., who'd spent much of his life in mental institutions after having been beaten by his prostitute mother. While God and Society are treated with much disdain in this film, it maintains a strange level of sentimentality and personal connection that's missing in many of his other films. The surreal sequences of Kasper's dreams are particularly effective in increasing the depth of the story and character, and Herzog's soft-focus, romantic visual aesthetic (which would later be nearly perfected in Nosferatu) works in achieving his usual contrast between the beauty of his images and the hopelessness of his heart-shattering stories.
Alison Maclean's (Crush) dreamlike drama about a junkie (Billy Crudup) in and around Iowa City in the 1970s. The film, like the Denis Johnson novel its based on, is named after a lyric in the Velvet Underground's Heroin and is structured in fragmented vignettes. It is also one of the better movies about junkies that I've seen -- mostly because of it avoids the celebratory and predictable nature of most drug movies (I wrote this exact praise for Half Nelson on this here blog). Crudup is willing to take chances, and his performance is not only a great mixture of off-beat comedy and bittersweet sadness, but its better than anything else I've seen of him -- it also helps that the performance is complimented by a top-notch supporting cast that includes Dennis Leary, Samantha Morton, Jack Black, Dennis Hopper, Miranda July, Greg Germann, and Holly Hunter. All in all Jesus' Son is a carefully crafted and engaging character study, and the lush CinemaScope cinematography by Adam Kimmel (Capote) is especially notable, as is the classic rock soundtrack. [107 minutes. Rated R.]
I've kind of always been a fan of Judd Apatow, from his involvement with sketch shows like The Ben Stiller Show (among others) to his television series Freaks & Geeks. Though I'm certainly on the late train for this one, I happened to recently catch his big-screen directorial debut in this popular comedy about a middle-aged electronics store employee (Steve Carell) trying to lose his virginity with the guidance of his immature co-workers. It manages a handful of laughs, especially at the hands of Apatow-regular Seth Rogan, but it treats the characters as skits and jokes rather than real people. The end result seems often forced and dull, and the visual aesthetic is shamefully television (Freaks & Geeks is more cinematic). A bright note however, is that Apatow makes good use of his love for classic rock (much like he did in Freaks & Geeks).
[Co-written by Carell, with Catherine Keener, Paul Rudd, and Romany Malco. 116 minutes / 133 minutes (unrated). Rated R.]
Aguirre, the Wrath God (Aguirre, der Zorn Gottes, Werner Herzog, 1972) Facism and colonialism get treated by New German Cinema pioneer Werner Herzog in one of his most memorable (and visceral) films, about a group of Spanish conquistadors in the Amazon searching for El Dorado, the lost city of gold. The film makes great use of power dynamics, and Klaus Kinski's menacing performance as the manipulative, greedy Aguirre is, as they say, worth the price of admission alone. And despite what Herzog might have to say about aesthetics, this film is a visual treat -- never has the jungle been so beautifully violent and horrifying as it is here. Toss in classic Herzogian elements like the unattainable dream, the futility of man against the brutality of nature, long handheld camera shots, a haunting original score by Popol Vuh, and a touch of surrealism, and you've got yourself a winner.
[100 minutes. Color. In German with English subtitles.]
Day For Night (Nuit americaine, La, Francois Tuffaut, 1973)
"Making a film is like a stagecoach ride in the old west. When you start, you are hoping for a pleasant trip. By the halfway point, you just hope to survive." -Ferrand in Day For Night
In the last two weeks, I've watched two movies about movies. One, which I reviewed here, is Richard Rush's The Stuntman (1980), and the other, is François Truffaut's Day For Night (1973). Both films are about movies, focusing on the individual members of the crew, and both show an admiration and love of the cinema. The similarities however, don't go much further. It's no wonder that Truffaut loved The Stuntman when he saw it (see earlier review), which has become clear after seeing Day For Night -- Rush's The Stuntman is distinctly American in its cynical, hyperactive, overblown and ridiculous way. Rush's film is a close relative to the certain brand of vulgar and pulp American directors that the Cahiers du Cinema critics (i.e. Truffaut, Godard, Rivette, Rohmer, etc.) had a taste for like Sam Fuller, Nicholas Ray, Budd Boetticher, and so on. To put it bluntly: The Stuntman is the film Truffaut wishes Day For Night was.
Criticisms aside, Day For Night is enjoyable, and it has it's own charm in that fluffy, French way, but Truffaut is too blinded by his love for the cinematic process that we are left with the meaningless interactions of shallow characters. The most fleshed out character, and not surprisingly, is the director Ferrand, played by Truffaut himself -- simply by looking at his body of work one knows that Truffaut is not only a man with a tremendous amount of love for the cinema, but a man who understands that process (especially directing, duh). This becomes more and more evident as we (the viewers!) begin to see that the film they are making, Meet Pamela, is going to be an utter failure. Yet despite the complications, failures, and conflicts, Truffaut is still able to capture the spirit and love of filmmaking, even if its harmless. On a last, additional note, the large ensemble cast does a collectively great job.
[With Truffaut regular Jean-Pierre Leaud as Alphonso, Jacqueline Bisset as the beautiful actress Julie. 115 minutes. Color and B&W. In French and English. ]
