Rescue Dawn (2007)

Rescue Dawn (2007)
Written and Directed by Werner Herzog

The enigma of Werner Herzog returns, this time for his second *fictional* film in the last fifteen years, and a fictionalized version of a documentary he made a decade ago at that. Herzog, presumably drunk on the unexpected success of Grizzly Man, and some Hollywood producers and crew (also presumably drunk enough) to finance and make the film have all (knowingly and unknowingly) decided to give America a giant ironic birthday cake this July 4 (the official release date of the film). Adapted from the *true* events that made up his 1997 documentary Little Dieter Needs to Fly, Rescue Dawn is the story of Dieter Dangler, a (German-born) American pilot who gets shot down in the early stages of the Vietnam war. Played by the unevenly British (and again emaciated) Christian Bale, Dangler survives the crash only to be captured and held prisoner in Laos with some other delusional fellows (a surprisingly effective Steve Zahn, and a not so surprisingly overacted Jeremy Davies, once again doing his Charles Manson).

Rescue Dawn has all the makings of a quintessential Herzog film: the harsh jungle, savagely violent natives, Caspar David Friedrich-esque imagery, a man driven by obsession -- but color me confused on this one, it felt more like someone doing their damnedest Herzog impression. Technically, it would be unfair to criticize Herzog for breaking from the mold he so carefully (and sloppily) made throughout his career, which was my first reaction to the film ("What? Where is the futility? The death?"). However the more I dissect it, it isn't that Herzog has moved away from the 'impossible-dream' driven stories that made him famous, but it's that he has turned down the knob from 10 to 1 on the classic Herzogian irony and futility scale. All the elements remain intact, but it's all a bit watered down -- though I'll give him credit for making a film that is destined to be misunderstood by just about everyone who sees it (especially Americans). Despite the setting and circumstances, the film has very little to do with Vietnam (Herzog has never been concerned with social reality), yet Dieter's "success" in survival and escape has everything to do with Herzog making an underhanded statement about America and the Vietnam war. Quite simply, the scenario of Vietnam plays second fiddle to Herzog's interest in mankind's never ending (and futile) attempt at overcoming the impossible -- the fact that Dieter survives as a celebrated war hero is sweet bitter irony in the fact that when he escaped, the Vietnam War had just started to heat up, and would (obviously) go on for years costing countless people their lives.

Additionally, the fact that a German embodies 'what it is to be American' in this film, while the 'real' Americans end up dead or as backstabbers (also probably dead) will most likely also be a commonly overlooked part of this film. Possibly his most accessible feature length narrative, Rescue Dawn is a long way off from his finer achievements (like Stroszek, Kaspar Hauser, Aguirre), but it's a much deeper and darker film than it lets on -- so enjoy it this independence day Americans, but don't forget that it really is just one big ironic birthday cake.

[126 minutes. In English. Rated PG-13.]

Rapid Fire: Summer Begins

In an attempt to catch up on some things I've viewed.

White Dog (Sam Fuller, 1982) -- Fuller's last American film, and perhaps one of his best. An actress in L.A. finds a "white dog" (a dog trained to attack black people) and the subsequent attempted rehabilitation by an African-American animal trainer. A sad and hopeless indictment of racism in America, what might appear as a Lifetime made-for-TV movie is rich with energetic and unique direction by Fuller. It's a shame this film has been shelved for so long. Based on the real life exploits of actress Jean Seberg and Romain Gary (who wrote the memoir).

All The Real Girls (David Gordon Green, 2003) -- The follow up to his breakthrough great film George Washington, the (then) 28-year old American wunderkind co-wrote and directed this southern love story. In many ways an improvement over his previous feature, yet I found it to be much less enchanting -- Green strives so hard for awkward and natural performances that it grows a bit tiring, however realistic it may be. Still, this is an excellent film from one of America's most promising directors. Co-written by lead actor Paul Schneider, and co-starring a wonderfully confused and beautiful Zooey Deschanel.

Saraband (Ingmar Bergman, 2003) -- Bergman's follow up to Scenes From a Marriage, some 30-odd years later. Shot on digital video (I know, right), this film is just as heart shattering the second time around. Bergman's work with Liv Ullman and Erland Josephson is so good it's mind bending.

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Entourage (Episode 43: Welcome to the Jungle) -- Entourage gets ambitious in this 2nd-half season premiere, choosing a documentary style approach to cover the making of their film in Columbia, with drastically mixed results. Though a few good gags, the interview-format was underwhelming and the Walsh-Goes-Hearts-Of-Darkness storyline was brutally predictable and silly.

John From Cincinatti (Episode 2: His Visit) -- Though I missed the first episode, I figured I'd give this a shot. It's terribly uneven, and the characters tend to lapse into elliptical, abstract dialogue which seems like a half-ass attempt at something interesting and profound. The episode provided enough for me to want to watch next week, but with a short-leash.

Flight of the Conchords (Episode 1: Sally) -- New Zealand comedy-rockers Flight of the Conchords get their own show, which seemed deserving to me after seeing their HBO stand-up special (which was nothing short of hysterical). After seeing the first episode, I'm not convinced their live performance ability is justified by a pseudo-narrative storyline. A few comic highlights (including a laugh-out-loud joke about Fleetwood Mac), but mostly a drag. Again, I'll give it another shot.

La Haine (1995)

La Haine (Hate)
Written and Directed by Mathieu Kassovitz

The day after a race riot (started by police brutality, of course), three alienated youths wander around the suburbs of Paris aimlessly. Their alienation is highlighted by their respective races-- one is a Jew (Vinz), one is black (Hubert), and one is North African (Said). When Vinz introduces a gun (a magnum, at that) to the other characters, and to the story, it brings to the screen an endless sense of dread and anticipation. Going on a 24-hour crime spree of sorts, it's as if the characters (especially Vinz, who is emotionally unhinged) are looking for a reason to use the gun--and between abusively brutal police officers, nasty skinheads, and a coked out psychopath, there are potentially many opportunities to use it, though writer-director Mathieu Kassovitz knows better. His storytelling is confident and his direction is assured and energetic -- he gets his many points across by focusing on the acting, and as a result makes this potentially bad hip-hop shoot em up an intriguing portrait of race-driven angst and teenage hopelessness.

Vinz, Hubert, and Said are all wannabe gangsters, petty criminals at best, and though the film is titled Hate (and they have plenty of it), it's too complicated a subject to be bogged down with moral points-- and though shot in black & white, the world that La Haine creates (and its characters) are realistically nothing but an unsure, murky area of gray. Simultaneously a road, buddy, gangster, youth, and hip-hop film, La Haine is far from uneven, and despite all its stylish low-budget camera work (which there is plenty of) Kassovitz and his cast never forget the essentials: feeling and human emotion (compliments to the excellent acting by Vincent Cassell, Hubert Kounde, and Said Taghmaouui).

96 minutes. B&W. In French with English subtitles.

(Side note: though it was widely unavailable in the United States for over a decade, it was recently released on Criterion Collection.)

Ousmane Sembene R.I.P. (1923-2007)

Ousmane Sembene, Senegalese filmmaker and writer, dies at 84

George Washington (2000)

George Washington (2000)
Written and Directed by David Gordon Green

At the age of 25, North Carolina School of the Arts grad David Gordon Green made his first mark on the film world with this lyrical coming-of-age summer drama about a group of impoverished kids in North Carolina. For starters, George Washington is problematic in a variety of ways -- stilted performances by (mostly) non-actors, a meandering and (sometimes) distracted storyline, a young white kid making a film about poor black kids -- but Green transcends his, and the film's flaws with his natural, southern-poetic style and strong metaphoric visuals (compliments of the CinemaScope photography by Tim Orr, with whom he shares screen credit at the end). It's as if the locations created the film, and for all the better -- the characters wander through a timeless southern wasteland, a world of overgrown grass on old railroad tracks and the decaying wood of abandoned houses. As a storyteller Green shows his youth in the lack of direction, but more than makes up for it by the avoidance of cliche. Though the characters are involved in a tragic accident that results in the death of a friend, the film never becomes procedural, instead shifting the focus on how it affects the remaining characters, becoming a metaphor for change, for moving on and drifting apart. Though his style recalls fellow Texan Terrence Malick (who would later produce his third feature, Undertow), Green sets himself apart by his involvement with the characters. The cool, detached feeling Malick often shows towards his characters is absent in George Washington, and despite all the pretty poetry and pondering voice over, Green is able to present a remarkably humanistic portrait of youth.

[89 minutes. Color. In English.]

Goodbye, Dragon Inn (2003)

Goodbye, Dragon Inn (2003)
Written and Directed by Tsai Ming-Liang

Tsai Ming-Liang's minimalist ode to old movie palaces and their strange (and perhaps otherwordly) inhabitants is quite possibly the most infuriating film made I've seen this decade/century/millennium. Hailed as a masterpiece by every art critic from here to Hong Kong (I'm looking at you Hoberman, Rosenbaum), Goodbye, Dragon Inn explores the empty world of a cavernous movie palace on it's (implied) closing night, where they are showing King Hu's 1966 samurai film Dragon Inn. The film is kind enough to include a few characters -- two of the stars of Dragon Inn sit separately and silently as the movie plays, a young tourist makes his rounds cruising for a gay-hookup, a deformed/limping theater attendant is possibly in love with the projectionist she can never find, and there might be some ghosts. I would say more if I could, but Tsai rejects traditional narrative in favor of empty space, super-long shots, and silence as means to reach his point (or mood). Citing the Lumiere Brothers as a stylistic comparison might be either too much or too little credit -- a better comparison might be the patience and (attempted) contemplation of Tarkovsky yet with the static of Jim Jarmusch. Regretfully, there comes a point when all this minimalism becomes more overt and obnoxious than the 360-degree dolly shots of Michael Bay, and Tsai crosses the line far too many times: gags run on for too long, silence and slowness is confused and mistaken for profoundness, and moments that should be for contemplation are replaced with confusion and irritation.

[In Mandarin, Cantonese, and Taiwanese with subtitles. 81 min.]