Tite Times

Tite Times is Dead; Long Live Tite Times

2007-10-16T13:39:00.000-07:00

Just kidding, sort of. Tite Times has officially been moved to a new location, which can be found at my new (currently under construction) website.

Nothing Ever Happens
http://www.ericmarshland.com/blog

He wrote me from...

2007-08-27T21:11:00.000-07:00

There's a lot going on over here at good old Tite Times, which includes but is not limited to moving into a new apartment this week, starting a new (real) job, getting a pseudo part time film reviewer job (more on that later when it happens), and so on.

In the meantime, enjoy a new favorite music video of mine, one which for some silly reason I had never seen until this week.

Yo La Tengo, "Sugarcube" (featuring Bob Odenkirk, David Cross, and John Ennis)

The Abyss (1989)

2007-08-21T21:27:00.000-07:00

The Abyss (1989)
Written and Directed by James Cameron

In the wake of his smash hits The Terminator and Aliens, James Cameron wrote, directed, crashed, and burned with this bloated sci-fi epic. I had the displeasure of viewing this film last night for the first time in probably 10 years, though this was my first time seeing the obnoxiously long 171-minute special edition version. The story is relatively simple, as a group of American soldiers and underwater oil rig workers investigate a sunken submarine at the bottom of the ocean. The film then unfolds sluggishly through territories well explored in the history of cinema, and Cameron makes sure he hits every unnecessary and trite direction possible. Despite some actually spectacular action/fx sequences that heat up in the second act, Cameron drowns the third act with somewhere around three to four separate climaxes, and for his finale employs unforgivably sappy left-wing ideology with a child's vision of solving the world's problems. Ed Harris was reportedly to have said he would never work with Cameron again after the filming of this movie: I wouldn't either, because it stinks like a big piece of shit.

***If this film has one saving grace it's everyone's favorite bad actor Michael Biehn, playing the wigged out Navy Seal who turns his back on everyone***

[171 minutes. Color. In English. PG-13.]

Superbad (2007)

2007-08-19T12:46:00.000-07:00

Superbad (2007)
Directed by Greg Mottola
Written by Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg

The latest feature from the Judd Apatow factory of comedy, Superbad is a movie about getting drunk, trying to get laid, and the inevitability of losing friends after high school. The latter gets the least amount of screen time, while the former gets treated with D-Day-esque importance, which allows for the film's juvenile fantasy to play out in the most riotous way possible. Starring the reigning king of awkwardness Michael Cera, and archetypal fat, ugly stoner Jonah Hill as the two best friends who finally get their chance to go to a cool party and possibly score big, Superbad manages its fair share of potty mouth induced belly laughs. Christopher Mintz-Plasse stars as Fogell (aka McLovin), the dorkiest of dorks, and Apatow and company apparently discovered him on YouTube. Only with writer Seth Rogen and SNL-regular Bill Hader making an appearance as local police officers does this film lose it's true charm -- the cops are crazier and more ridiculous than anyone else in the film (hogging the spotlight, a bit). It rubbed me the wrong way, but Rogen and Hader are well known and established funnymen, making their joyriding with McLovin still pretty enjoyable. The real gold however, is the performances of Hill and Cera who consistently hit the right comedic notes (yet I worry that Cera's 5-year run using the same comedy style (read: 1 note) might run its course sooner than later. Hopefully not.) Time will tell if Superbad holds up as important and funny of a high school comedy as Fast Times or Dazed and Confused, but it beats the shit out of American Pie and every other high school comedy since then.

[114 minutes. Color. In English. Rated R.]

Sweetie (1989)

2007-08-17T16:10:00.001-07:00

Sweetie (1989)
Directed by Jane Campion
Written by Jane Campion and Gerard Lee

Though she will most likely be remembered for the ultra successful, award winning drama The Piano, Jane Campion made her auspicious feature film debut with Sweetie, a black comedy about two sisters and their destructive relationship within a dysfunctional family. The film starts with wide-eyed neurotic Kay, who falls in love with Louis (Tom Lycos) after going to see a fortune teller. Later, their relationship begins to decay because he attempts to plant a tree in their backyard. It is at is seems -- Kay isn't the most emotionally stable or developed, and things get even more complicated when her emotionally infantile, slobby sister Dawn/Sweetie (Genevieve Lemon) shows up at their doorstep. The two sisters lock into an endless, childish struggle, and when the rest of the family gets involved it becomes clear as to the dangerous emotional effect Sweetie's suspected mental illness has had on the family (especially the sadly delusional, possibly incestuous father).

Campion, with cinematographer Sally Bongers, manage to create a richly textured world of fantasy within the scope of everyday objects and settings. Employing peculiar framing, carefully crafted camera movements, with surrealism and color saturated sets and costume design, Campion poetically intertwines her unique visual style with an engaging and equally disquieting script. The precise direction of Campion not only makes the film impressive to look at, but the unorthodox nature of the story and the simultaneously enchanting and horrifying work of the actors (particularly Lemon) makes Sweetie as close as a film can get to being a complete, fluid work.

This Week: Godard's "Pierrot le Fou" (1965)

2007-08-17T09:05:00.000-07:00

Playing in Chicago this week at the Music Box. Go see it. From the Reader:

"I wanted to tell the story of the last romantic couple," Jean-Luc Godard said of this brilliant, all-over-the-place adventure and meditation about two lovers on the run (Jean-Paul Belmondo and Anna Karina). Made in 1965, this film, with its ravishing colors and beautiful 'Scope camerawork by Raoul Coutard, still looks as iconoclastic and fresh as it did when it belatedly opened in the U.S. Godard's misogynistic view of women as the ultimate betrayers is integral to the romanticism in much of his 60s work--and perhaps never more so than here--but Karina's charisma makes this pretty easy to ignore most of the time. The movie's frequent shifts in style, emotion, and narrative are both challenging and intoxicating: American director Samuel Fuller turns up at a party scene to offer his definition of cinema, Karina performs two memorable songs in musical-comedy fashion, Belmondo's character quotes copiously from his reading, and a fair number of red and blue cars are stolen and destroyed. In French with subtitles. 110 min. -Jonathan Rosenbaum

Rififi (1955)

2007-08-13T11:58:00.000-07:00

Rififi (aka Du rififi chez les hommes, 1955)
Directed by Jules Dassin
Written by Jules Dassin, Rene Wheeler, Auguste Le Breton
Based on the Novel by Augeste Le Breton

After a seven year prison stint for robbery, hardened old timer Tony (Jean Servais) meets up with his former colleagues only to decline a bank robbery job. Upon finding his former girl (Marie Sabouret) shacked up with a sleazy night club owner (Pierre Grasset), Tony re-joins his gang to pull off a heist at a nearby, highly secured jewelery shop. What follows is non-stop action, bringing in all the quintessential elements of the crime/heist genre: dishonor among thieves, double crosses, backstabbing, murder, theft, kidnapping, and vengeance.

Blacklisted American director Jules Dassin directed this crime thriller adaptation while living in exile in France. Having directed a string of successful crime films in America in the late 1940s (Thieves' Highway, Brute Force, The Naked City, Night and the City), the material was nothing new to Dassin -- though Rififi marks a step forward in structure and style with a simultaneous step backwards in themes. That's not to say the film avoids moral issues all together, as Dassin specifically deals with the blacklist backlash, playing one of the criminals himself -- meeting his bloody, violent demise after ratting out his colleagues. Never the less, Rififi remains a landmark crime film, most well known and appreciated for the thirty minute, no-dialogue, no-music heist scene which is a brilliant exercise in tension, sound, paranoia, and professionalism.

[115 minutes. B&W. In French/Italian with English Subtitles.]

Killer of Sheep (2007)

2007-08-08T19:28:00.000-07:00

Killer of Sheep (2007)
Written and Directed by Charles Burnett

The often overlooked and under appreciated Charles Burnett made this gritty, neo-realist masterpiece as his Masters thesis film at UCLA in the late 70s, though the film never enjoyed a theatrical run until now. Despite being named one of the 100 Essential Films of all time by the National Society of Film Critics in 1990 (and placed in the Library of Congress' Film Registry), Killer of Sheep had been unreleasable for the past thirty years due to the twenty-odd songs used for the soundtrack of the film (which includes Dinah Washington, Paul Robeson, Louis Armstrong, Earth, Wind and Fire, etc.). Recently restored by the UCLA Film & Television Archive and Milestone films (in addition to a contribution from Steven Soderbergh), they also paid around $150,000 for the soundtrack licenses.

In many ways, the wait was worth it -- Killer of Sheep is no doubt a masterpiece, a rare gem in American cinema that examines the life of African-Americans in the Watts ghetto in the late 1970s. Burnett loosely pieces together scenes (some call them 'vignettes', though the scenes are a bit more connected) centered around Stan (Henry Gayle Sanders), a slaughter-house worker. His long work hours seem to have little affect how he and his family lives, although he would be the first one to tell you he's not poor ("I donate stuff to the Salvation Army" he says). With no discernible plot, the film builds scene upon scene, making nothing into something: a hauntingly sad portrait of everyday life in the ghetto, a life that Stan can't seem to escape even if he tried. Together with the soundtrack, Burnett juxtaposes life in the ghetto with a sort of history of African-American music, creating a beautiful, humorous, and sad world of futility. Killer of Sheep is unlike many American films, especially those of the 1970s -- the film is much more closely connected to the neo-realist works of De Sica and Rossellini, though his knack for dry humor and music set him apart (and more American) from the latter. Made for around $10,000 and shot on weekends using non-professional actors, Killer of Sheep is perhaps the most powerful film you'll see this year even though it was made over thirty years ago.

[81 minutes. B&W. In English]

***Killer of Sheep is enjoying an extended run at the Music Box, so check it out before it goes away, you might never have the chance again.

http://www.killerofsheep.com/

Broken English (2007)

2007-08-08T16:38:00.000-07:00

Broken English (2007)
Written and Directed by Zoe Cassavetes

Zoe Cassavetes makes her directorial debut in this "indie" romantic comedy starring Parker Posey. Zoe is the daughter of famous actor and independent film pioneer John Cassavetes, and while it seems unfair to try and compare them, it is strikingly peculiar that there is little of the "Cassavetes" feel in this film. That however, is the least of its problems.

The film stars Parker Posey as a loveless thirtysomething in New York City, who continually gets involved with "bad" guys, including a narcissistic, moronic actor (Justin Theroux) and a still heart-broken mope (Josh Hamilton). Eventually, she meets an attractive and sensitive Frenchman, but of course, pushes him away because of her "insecurities". God, I even feel silly attempting to describe the plot. Broken English is so full of cliches, stereotypes, and mushy platitudes that it's hard to muster up the strength to turn away from the Houston Astros/Chicago Cubs game right now. The script is so inconsistent that it gives the always entertaining Parker Posey little room to display her talent -- her offbeat, unique humor comes through in the first act, but disappears quickly and returns only in flashes for the rest of the film. Cassavetes and the film spends the rest of the time sleepwalking through Dr. Phil-esque self-realizations and predictable plot twists. This film is a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy, and I say that in the most degrading, negative way possible. It's a shame to see such a talent like Posey to go to waste in sappy filth like this. Someone check Zoe's DNA.

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

Sunshine (2007)

2007-08-06T20:00:00.002-07:00

Sunshine (2007)
Directed by Danny Boyle
Written by Alex Garland

Apparently sometime in the future, the sun will start to die. In attempt to save the world, a crew consisting of young attractive white Americans, a few Asian-Americans, and an Indian-American psychologist will make the second trip to the sun -- with intention of shooting a gigantic bomb into it in hopes of creating a star within a star. If I wasn't scientifically inept I would try and explain more, though I can tell you that it's a pretty awesome idea (also something the folks at CERN are currently trying to figure out as well). But that is not my place -- my place is to tell you what is right and what is wrong with the latest film from English heavyweight Danny Boyle (Trainspotting, 28 Days Later). Re-teaming with the 28 Days Later crew, including writer Alex Garland and producer Andrew MacDonald, Boyle has managed to create two-thirds of a possibly great film.

In theory, the faults of Sunshine are in no way the work of Boyle, who has established himself as an always interesting (at least visually) director over the past decade. His visual flair has been there from day one (Shallow Grave), and Sunshine is no exception -- this is a beautifully shot and constructed film, which combined with some modest special effects prove particularly interesting (especially in the psychedelic, I'm looking right at the sun way). Boyle, as competent as ever, also continues his love-affair with electronica group Underworld, who composed much of the impressive ambient/techno score which was more than enjoyable. For at least two thirds of the film, Sunshine is engaging -- it weaves in and out of varying sci-fi styles, and one hopes that it settles in -- unfortunately it never does. Granted Andrei Tarkovsky and Stanley Kubrick have covered almost all there is to cover metaphysically when it comes to space, Sunshine only slightly explores it's most interesting aspect: seeing/experiencing closeness to the sun as metaphor for God/Heaven/Death/Immortality.

Unfortunately, it seems Alex Garland held his How-To-Write-Dramatically-For-The-Screen book a bit to close this time around. The kick-ass visual aesthetic and score are helped very little by Garland's script, which at times is nothing short of brilliant, but ultimately resorts to the most pathetic and predictable usage of cliched characters / sci-fi archetypes. Sadly, Sunshine had a chance to be something special, a sort of chaotic mixture of all the sci-fi cinema that has come before it, but it's third act burns out faster than the dying sun of the not-so-near-future (oh damn!). Worth a look, but don't be surprised if you leave just a bit disappointed.

[In English. 107 minutes. Rated R.]

Moving Images, Moving On

2007-08-01T21:04:00.000-07:00

A lot has happened since my last update. Two of cinema's greats, Ingmar Bergman and Michelangelo Antonioni have passed away, the MLB trade deadline came and went (way to go White Sox), and I spent a week in San Luis Obispo, California, having lots of tite times. It's been a sweltering hot summer, though productivity has been pretty good. All the tite times have a price though, such as my lack of summer writing. Hence, moving on. For the sake of letting the past be the past, what I've been watching:

Bukowski: Born Into This (John Dullaghan, 2003) -- Drinking, writing, drinking writing. Formulaic documentary made up mostly of footage from another documentary already made about Bukowski. Luckily for first time filmmaker Dullaghan, he chose an interesting subject -- Bukowski's tortured, alcoholic soul is always engaging even when he comes off as a misogynistic hack.

Blue (Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1993) -- First of his Three Colors trilogy, Kieslowski poses the question: is it possible for a woman (or person for that matter) in contemporary society to put everything behind her and start anew? The result is ambiguously depressing and uplifting, though the hypnotic beauty of the visuals and Juliette Binoche's powerful performance is more than enough to convince me of anything.

In the Mood For Love (Wong Kar Wai, 2000) -- Hong Kong heavyweight Wong Kar Wai toned it down for this small film about a love story that never happens. Pretty to look at, but Wong's masturbation through use of repetition is aggravating.

Forty Guns (Sam Fuller, 1957) -- Fuller at his cigar chomping finest. If there ever was an argument for the king of pulp, here it is.

The Simpsons Movie (David Silverman, 2007) -- Of course it's funny, and of course it can't live up to over a decade's worth of priceless satire. See it, for there won't be many more entertaining movies this year like this one.

Mr. Jealousy (Noah Baumbach, 1997) -- Made in between two supremely better films (Kicking & Screaming, The Squid and the Whale), Mr. Jealousy is Baumbach trying to be something he's not. The results are mixed. The comedy is spot on (Jacot and Eigeman deliever as usual), but the shameless homages to Truffaut, Lubistch, et al. are tiresome. Plus, Eric Stoltz could never get women that hot.

My Night At Maud's (Eric Rohmer, 1970) -- One of Rohmer's six moral tales, and not for the short-attention span crowd. The "devout" "catholic" lead as played by Jean-Louis Trintignant is engaging in that confused, tortured way, which moves this nice little movie along when Rohmer gets a bit too wordy.

Ace in the Hole (Billy Wilder, 1951) -- This is what it looks like when Billy Wilder says fuck you to the world. This is also what it looks like when Kirk Douglas unleashes the venom of a viking warrior in the world of small town journalism. This is what an awesome movie looks like, and no it's not funny, and no, it does not star Jack Lemmon.

Time Indefinite (Ross McElwee, 1993) -- The pondering southern gentleman followed up his now-classic Sherman's March with another diary-documentary, this time leaving the women of the south behind for the confusing world of marriage, life, and death. Drags a bit in the middle, but McElwee has an irresitable charm.

Six O'Clock News (Ross McElwee, 1996) -- The charm wears a bit thin in this film, McElwee's examination and worried-father look at news, violence, and disaster. A bit more unfocused than some of his other (better) films.

Bright Leaves (Ross McElwee, 2003) -- The second best of McElwee's autobiographical diary narratives. This film has something to do with the tobacco industry, but McElwee takes his stance as the anti-Michael Moore -- McElwee is not out to muckrake or to promote any sort of political stance, he's simply trying to make sense of a world in which his complex lineage might be traced to a fictional adaptation of his grandfather's life in a Hollywood movie starring Gary Cooper about the rise of the Duke family, Bull Durham tobacco, and lost fortunes. It sounds confusing, but it's not -- probably his most complete and organized film to date, and it totally pays off.

Knocked Up (2007)

2007-07-12T17:52:00.000-07:00

Knocked Up (2007)
Written and Directed by Judd Apatow

I've caught the last train after the last train on this one, and so much has already been said about TV-vet turned film-comedy-superstar Judd Apatow's most recent success that I'm practically speechless. As one might suspect from the title, the film concerns a pregnancy, and an unexpected one at that. In the weeks since it has come out (and boy, it's been out for a while) there has been some controversy in regards to the absence of abortion discussion in the film -- but I think these people (Pat Graham) are missing the point: Knocked Up isn't about much (especially morally) -- unless morality somehow has transformed itself into "an excuse for a group of friend-colleagues to get together and make hilarious jokes and references in front of a camera."

What's especially interesting about Knocked Up, in the critical sense, is it's strangely dualistic nature: it treats moral conflict and drama in the most rudimentary and unimportant of ways, yet it's nature as a contemporary comedy is not only timely but filled with painstaking detail complete with an inexhaustable, relentless barrage of references, insults, one-liners and impressions. Of course it's not a first for a high-profile comedy like this to have actual *emotion* take a back seat, but most mainstream comedies aren't nearly this funny. Apatow is slowly breaking the chains that have binded him in his television-rooted past, most notably his sloppy, close-up driven TV directing style -- but here he shows that he is growing, however slightly. His comedy and work with the actors is far superior here than in anything he's previously done (especially 40-Year Old Virgin) -- and maybe I hang out with too many stoner-fueled, film loving fantasy baseball playing dudes, but it's hard not to enjoy scenes that felt so painfully hilarious to real-life that I couldn't contain myself. It helps that he's basically worked with the same group of actors since Freaks and Geeks, but their casual camaraderie, improvisation, and culture-obsessed humor hits home in the best of ways possible.

Starring Apatow regulars Seth Rogen, Paul Rudd, Martin Starr, Jay Baruchel, Jonah Hill, Loudan Wainwright III, Leslie Mann, and Jason Segal, and also with Katherine Heigl and a bunch of other people I'm too lazy to list, although Harold Ramis has a particularly funny bit.

[129 minutes. Rated R. Color.]

Tite Times Update -- 7.12.07

2007-07-11T23:29:00.000-07:00

All I can offer for the time being is a recent and most excellent article concerning Woody Allen's 1979 masterpiece:

Defending Manhattan
by J. Hoberman (Village Voice, 7.10.07)

--------------------------------

Somehow graduating college has left me with less time to write than before, or maybe I've been spending my summer days with beers, baseball, and Built to Spill instead. That being said, there is plenty of fun stuff to look forward to here at the Tite, including and not limited to reviews of a handful of Ross McElwee films, Kieslowski's Three Colors Trilogy, Knocked Up, and some other junk I've been watching. Soon, friends, soon.

Rescue Dawn (2007)

2007-06-27T20:46:00.001-07:00

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

2007-06-18T07:09:00.000-07:00

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.

--------------------------------

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)

2007-06-16T14:19:00.000-07:00

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)

2007-06-12T00:18:00.000-07:00

Ousmane Sembene, Senegalese filmmaker and writer, dies at 84

George Washington (2000)

2007-06-11T23:29:00.000-07:00

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)

2007-06-11T21:47:00.000-07:00

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.]

Paris Hilton Loves Michaelangelo Antonioni

2007-05-29T18:56:00.000-07:00

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:

Paris Hilton, "Stars Are Blind"

Blow Up (Antonioni, 1969)

Metropolitan (1990)

2007-05-26T14:59:00.000-07:00

Metropolitan (Whit Stillman, 1990)

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.

[98 minutes. In English. Color.]

The Enigma of Kasper Hauser (1974)

2007-05-22T21:41:00.000-07:00

The Enigma of Kasper Hauser
a.k.a. Every Man For Himself and God Against All
(Jeder für sich und Gott gegen alle, 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 Hauser functions 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.

[110 minutes. Color. In German.]

Jesus' Son (1999)

2007-05-22T13:27:00.001-07:00

Jesus' Son (Alison Maclean, 1999)

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.]

The 40 Year Old Virgin (2005)

2007-05-16T08:18:00.000-07:00

The 40 Year Old Virgin (Judd Apatow, 2005)

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 of God (1972)

2007-05-12T21:04:00.001-07:00

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 (1973)

2007-05-01T09:39:00.001-07:00

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. ]

Links:
Roger Ebert: Great Movies -- Day For Night review
Pauline Kael short review

Day For Night trailer:

Stalker (1979)

2007-04-27T09:46:00.001-07:00

Stalker (Сталкер, Andrei Tarkovsky, 1979)

"If we emerge from Tarkovsky's films somewhat puzzled, this is only the first of the special gifts they have to offer, for ultimately they aren't so much mysteries to be solved as experiences to be interpreted, learned from, and assimilated." -Jonathan Rosenbaum

"Some filmmakers deliver sermons, but the greats leave us with our freedom." -Chris Marker on Tarkovsky

As suggested above (and I'll confirm with enthusiasm), Tarkovsky's films are self-probing experiences, and as head-scratching as they can be, he is able to achieve a tremendous amount of emotional resonance within his ambiguous, poetic style. At this point I've had the pleasure of seeing only three of his films: the metaphysical sci-fi epic Solaris (1972), the deeply personal and dense The Mirror (1975), and most recently, his 1979 masterpiece Stalker, which had quite an effect on me since viewing it little less than a week ago.

Like Solaris, Stalker is both science fiction and an adaptation, this time loosely based on Boris and Arkady Strugatsky's Roadside Picnic (emphasis on loosely). The film takes place in the suggested future and is centered mostly in The Zone, a government fenced off area once hit by a meteorite. The Zone also happens to (supposedly) be a place that has the ability to grant wishes, and can only be navigated by certain individuals known as 'stalkers'. This is the setting and context for the film, which, for most of its lengthy 161-minute running time, concerns only The Zone and three central characters: stalker (Aleksandr Kajdanovsky), writer (Anatoli Solonitsyn), and professor (Nikolai Grinko). Just as he did in Solaris, Tarkovsky plays down the sci-fi, and puts his money and mouth where his metaphysics are -- Stalker is an epic philosophical and spiritual quest that leaves all windows open.

Stalker, on the surface, is about the spiritual struggle between faith and empiricism, and the character's journey into The Zone is a spiritual quest. Though a man of great faith, Tarkovsky never answers the spiritual and personal conflicts in the film by faith, or even simply at all. If anything Stalker, who uses The Zone in a strange attempt to 'better the world' and also give himself personal worth, is the most naive and blindly foolish character -- he changes the least. In interviews Tarkovsky has discussed that his interest is more in Writer, who approaches the quest with such skepticism and cynicism. He has given up all hope and faith in himself, and in turn he actually is the one who comes out of the quest the most changed. So it seems that Tarkovsky in a way is interested in the classic 'it's not what's at the end of the journey, but how you got there' type story -- Stalker seems to believe this as well. So despite the large amount of post-apocalyptic despair, the journey itself is an attempt to give hope, and possibly faith, to these specific individuals.

It's worth noting the stylistic elements of Stalker, if only briefly -- the film is told through often-complicated and lengthy shots (mise-en-scene, if I dare) that seem to go on endlessly and freely through the post-apocalyptic wasteland of The Zone -- a style that Tarkovsky fans will find familiar within his work (constantly moving camera, the changing of color tones, the unfolding of action within single shots, slow pace, etc.).

And last, and important note -- I feel intimidated even writing about Stalker, since not only is it extremely difficult, I admire it too much to even think I'm doing it any justice. I don't want to spend any more time writing this, since I'll just write-edit-delete-write-edit-delete until I die, but one thing is for certain in my mind -- Stalker is a masterpiece, and a film I won't soon forget.

[With Alisa Frejndlikh as Stalker's wife. 163 minutes. B&W and Color. In Russian with English subtitles.]

Links:
Andrei Tarkovsky on Stalker
How Stalker Foretold Chernobyl
Nostalghia.com (Tarkovsky resource) -- Stalker page
Jonathan Rosenbaum on Tarkovsky, Marker's "A Day in the Life of Andrei Arsenevich"

Video Clip from Stalker:

The Cinema of Peter Watkins

2007-04-26T09:53:00.000-07:00

Hey friends, Cineaste recently published an article on radical British director Peter Watkins. The article is a good read, and Watkins, from what I've seen (Punishment Park, Privilege), is quite the filmmaker. He swings the sledgehammer of leftist paranoia hard, and it's awesome.

The Cinema of Peter Watkins
(Cineaste, Vol. 32 No.2 (Spring 2007), 20-25.)

Bunny Lake is Missing (1965)

2007-04-24T13:00:00.001-07:00

Bunny Lake is Missing (Otto Preminger, 1965)

On the downslope of a successful career in Hollywood, Otto Preminger produced and directed this stylish thriller set in London in 1965. Already proven as a master of his craft, Preminger continued onwards with Bunny Lake is Missing, a film that he directs with such exuberant confidence and skill that the beautiful black and white widescreen picture swallows you up in all its technical glory (compliments to Denys Coop). Its fast pace and excessive use of long takes and tracking shots is hypnotic and overwhelming (positive). As he'd done throughout much of his career Preminger puts his law degree at use, and is effective as ever -- his knack for objectively analyzing situations seems unrivaled, and no doubt enhances his ability to construct a mystery like no other. The film is not out to 'shock', and Preminger treats almost every twist and turn with equal attention, most importantly leaving a wide array of options for the audience's own sleuthing attempts.

Unfortunately, Bunny Lake is Missing ultimately becomes memorable for a reason that isn't its slick style and near-perfect mystery construction -- the ending. The fault lies in the script, which after three re-writes, concludes with a bizarrely embarrassing cop-out of an ending. When the final twist is revealed, it's not that we're shocked by what it reveals, but what unfolds afterwards -- it's too ridiculous to be taken seriously. A sad disappointment for such a beautifully made film. As far as Preminger goes, there are much better pictures to select from his filmography than this one (i.e. Laura, Anatomy of a Murder, The Man with the Golden Arm, etc.).

[With Carol Lynley as the hysterical Ann Lake, Keir Dullea as the off-kilter brother Stephen, Laurence Olivier as the rational Superintendent, Noel Coward as the particularly memorable sadistic landlord, and an interesting appearance from The Zombies, as themselves, playing on television. 107 minutes. B&W. In English.]

Links:
Capsule Review by Dave Kehr (Chicago Reader)
Otto Preminger and the End of Classical Cinema (Senses of Cinema Article by John Orr)

Title Sequence:

Breaking Away: Road Trip

2007-04-20T10:29:00.000-07:00

Hello friends. In roughly one hour from now, I am embarking on my annual road trip to Bloomington, Indiana, home of Indiana University and one of the greatest heavy-drinking weekends that exists -- which is not coincidentally centered around a 200-lap bike race, the Little 500. This is my fourth straight trip to this event, and will return on Sunday probably not any wiser. In the meantime enjoy this clip from one of my favorite movies, Peter Yates' 1979 film Breaking Away -- a feel good coming-of-age film about overcoming class and economic struggles that centers on a group of 'cutters' (i.e. townies) in Bloomington -- in which the climax is them entering the above mentioned bike race (tears, I tell you). If you haven't seen it, you should -- it won Best Original Screenplay at the 1979 Oscars and stars a young Dennis Quaid and Daniel Stern, in addition to one of my favorite "father" characters played by Paul Dooley.

The Stunt Man (1980)

2007-04-17T09:55:00.000-07:00

The Stunt Man (Richard Rush, 1980)

In 1980, at the San Francisco Film Festival, Francois Truffaut was reportedly asked who is favorite American director was, to which he replied, "I don't know his name, but I saw his film last night and it was called The Stuntman." The director, as Truffaut would probably discover later, was Richard Rush, a now-forgotten American exploitation director who gained the admiration of Ingmar Bergman and Stanley Kubrick (to name a few) with some late 60s AIP pictures and later films like Getting Straight (1970) and Freebie and the Bean (1974). In 1980, he released The Stunt Man, which earned Oscar-nominations for Best Actor (Peter O'Toole), Best Director, and Best Adapted Screenplay. Since then Rush has only directed one film, 1994's Color of Night, and it seems at this point Rush's reputation has been designated as 'the guy who made The Stunt Man' -- which for many would be quite the accomplishment.

The plot centers around Vietnam-war vet turned fugitive Cameron (Steve Railsback), who in a strange turn of events (coincidences) is hired onto a film as a stunt man by the flamboyant and egomaniacal director Eli Cross (Peter O'Toole) -- motivated by his desire to cover up the 'accidental' death of the previous stunt man. Upon its release Pauline Kael called it "a virtuoso, kinetic piece of filmmaking," and her enjoyment of this movie should come to no surprise -- The Stunt Man is a movie about movies, and more importantly, about the spectacle of movies, no matter how ridiculous. The film is never serious enough to actually have anything to say socially (despite the post-Vietnam implications) -- but its paranoid, hyperactive, and purely ridiculous nature is everything that is right and wrong about the movies all at once. By acknowledging his own hypocrisy, Rush is able to move freely and creatively through The Stunt Man. Despite its lack of believability, it never disengages the audience -- he's thrown 'realism' out the window yet is able to keep its self-reflexive criticism, humor, and boisterousness all intact. One of the best movies-about-movies that I've ever seen. [131 minutes. Color. In English.]

Side note -- Supposedly Peter O'Toole based his character on David Lean, with whom he worked with on Lawrence of Arabia.

Links:
Roger Ebert's Chicago Sun-Times Review (11-07-80)
Pauline Kael's New Yorker Capsule Review

Trailer:

Devo, "Mongoloid" | A film by Bruce Conner

2007-04-16T21:54:00.000-07:00

For all the complaining I do about YouTube and the all-time lows of the film/video aesthetic, it does have its perks, which is not limited to tons of shorts and experimental films people might not be able to find elsewhere. Anyways, the video-of-the-day comes from stock-footage master Bruce Conner. It was made in 1978 and cut to Devo's "Mongoloid" -- and pre-dates the actual invention of the music video (or rather the official implementation via MTV). It's awesome. Enjoy.

Signs of Life (1968)

2007-04-11T21:06:00.000-07:00

Signs of Life (Werner Herzog, 1968)

At the age of 24, Werner Herzog wrote and directed his first feature film, Signs of Life. Loosely based on the Achim von Arnim story The Mad Invalid at Fort Rattoneau, this beautiful-tragedy of a film examines themes of isolation, futility, and the inner search for meaning through a group of German soldiers stuck in Greece during World War II. Herzog revels in their isolation, and in turn makes the audience sit through many painfully slow sequences -- but with good intentions. The film is largely metaphoric and symbolic, and within every action of the the soldiers, larger implications of its isolation-oriented themes begin to crack through the walls of the fortress (metaphor).

The film starts off with voice over narration (which continues throughout) and informs us that a young soldier, Stroszek (Peter Brogle), has been injured and transported to the island of Kos. There he will recuperate and is assigned to guard a fortress with his Greek wife, Nora, and two soldiers: the intelligent and lanky Becker (Wolfgang von Ungern-Sternberg), and the brutish and bald Meinhard (Wolfgang Reichmann). Not only are their stuck in this fortress (which must be locked at night), but it's more drastic in a larger context: they are stuck on an island, and on the island they are stuck in a fortress. Together they become increasingly bored, and Herzog makes explicit points in detailing the monotony of their daily lives -- Meinhard begins to create traps for rodents, Becker passes the time translating old Greek relics, and Stroszek takes a liking to fireworks. This boredom has a tremendous effect on Stroszek,who subtly begins a soul-searching expedition into madness, which comes to the forefront when he becomes insane and erratic at the site of a giant field of mechanical windmills. From there he begins a self-proclaimed war on everything: the townspeople, the sun, etc., but the reality is him fighting himself (i.e. life, meaning). And so it goes.

Stylistically, the film is in many ways traditional Herzog -- long takes, handheld camera, and so forth, but this being his first feature, there are a few close-ups and dollys that make their way into the film (and brilliantly so, if I may add). The traditional Greek music adds a strange element and seems to hint at the off-kilter nature of the characters and their isolation. Even at such a young age, it's apparent in Signs of Life that Herzog is a vast talent, a strange visionary of despair and modernity, which is something he would continue to prove for the many years following. Signs of Life is tragic and beautiful, dull and exciting -- it explores its themes with vigor, both mentally and physically, and even provides the clunky-yet-intellectual feel that would come to define Herzog's work. This film would be greater and more important if Herzog didn't spend his entire career re-visiting the same themes (the impossible dream, the search for meaning, the indifference of nature/the world, etc.), but it sure was a good start -- and more importantly, the important arrival of Herzog as a leading figure in the New German Cinema movement.

91 minutes. B&W. In German/Greek with English subtitles.

How To Get Ahead in Advertising (1989)

2007-04-08T21:27:00.000-07:00

How To Get Ahead in Advertising (Bruce Robinson, 1989)

Following the success of the brilliant buddy-drug comedy Withnail & I (1987), British writer/director Bruce Robinson returned to the big screen two years later with his satirical attack on consumerism in How To Get Ahead in Advertising. The film, like Withnail & I, stars the emaciatingly venomous Richard E. Grant at his over-the-top-theatrical best, and is heavy on words. The latter however, seems to be the fault of How To Get Ahead... -- though it has a consistent flow of absurd comedic moments.

This time around, Grant plays a even more despicable character in Denis Bagley, a very successful scum-sucking advertising agent. And just like the aforementioned Withnail, Bagley becomes a sort of disgustingly lovable protagonist. Hired to make a commercial advertisement for a pimple/boil solving skin cream, Bagley becomes fed-up with advertising and has a mental breakdown in the process, which results in him "quitting" his job and tearing apart his house in a psychopathic outrage. Coincidentally (or maybe not?) he begins to grow a large boil on his neck, which soon begins talking and taking the form of a real human face (and eventually grows a mustache...). This furthers Bagley's paranoia and madness, and it is soon revealed that the boil has taken on all the bad sides of his prior personality -- the shameless capitalist attitude, the creepy and constant sex fetishes, hostility towards others, and so on.

I have come to a realization -- I wrote the above paragraph without thinking twice, but a quick re-read has led me to a conclusion -- certainly talking boils that grow mustaches seems ridiculous, yet within the film, despite the initial shock, it seems completely plausible within its world (or at least acceptable). So then comes another conclusion -- How To Get Ahead..., like Withnail & I, is an intoxicating film, a bizarre drug itself. You might feel appalled, confused, and conflicted, but Robinson seems to have a gift for beautiful visual train wrecks (metaphor).

This is the point where I'm supposed to further the discussion of the themes of the film, but the film itself says enough, and it says what it really wants to say -- Robinson shamelessly pours out his thoughts and feelings about modern capitalist society into the film, and it in no way is ambiguous or subtle. How To Get Ahead... is an obnoxious, yelling, screaming, disgusting, weird protest of sorts, and manages to engage on a high comedic level despite its heavy, lecturing dialogue. Not coincidently the film is a tour de force for Grant, who I really cannot say enough positive things about. A must-see for fans of Withnail & I, and my first viewing of this makes me wonder why Robinson has only directed one film since then (1992's Jennifer Eight). He's an unmistakable comic talent, both as a writer and director, and according to the database, he's in pre-production for an adaptation of Hunter S. Thompson's The Rum Diary.

94 minutes. Color. In British.

Links:
Roger Ebert's Sun-Times review (5/12/89)
Vincent Camby's New York Times review (5/30/89)
Criterion Collection essay by Stanley Kauffmann

Half Nelson (2006)

2007-04-08T14:39:00.000-07:00

Half Nelson (Ryan Fleck, 2006)

Ryan Fleck and Anna Boden's character drama about a drug addicted high school teacher earned Ryan Gosling a nomination for Best Actor at the Academy Awards, and deservedly so. Gosling is remarkable as Dan Dunne, a crack (and cocaine) addicted high school teacher in Brooklyn, who, despite his personal troubling escapades seems to be an effective teacher -- at least one who believes in change (for the students, the world, etc.). The catch of course is that Dunne is unable to change his own life (despite what he says, preaches). His life spirals out of control, and through his relationship with a student, Drey (Shareeka Epps), we're given a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel, though it's ambiguous enough to leave emotional resonance. None of it is that simple though, and that's kudos to to Fleck and Boden, who have managed to create characters of complex contradiction and conflict. In turn, this is what made all the performances in this film great -- their believability, their simplicity, their complicated nature.

Half Nelson does a good job avoiding the celebration, glamorization, and/or stylization of drugs as seen in recent films like Requiem for a Dream, Spun, and even Trainspotting to an extent, and sets itself apart by being a film about a character and their relation to life/the world/people as opposed to their relationship with drugs. Stylistically, the film is shot almost entirely hand held, with the in-out of focus technique that has become so popular not only in television but in film lately (especially action -- I'm looking at you Tony Scott, Peter Berg) -- and while I generally don't care for it, it works for the most part in Half Nelson -- probably because the shaky camera doesn't present the material as faux-emotional (re: Friday Night Lights). And while its not entirely believable (i.e. Dunne keeping his job despite outrageous behaviors), Fleck and Boden's writing combined with Gosling's performance achieve a sort of transcendence -- realism is achieved not in the dramatic plot turns or visuals, but in the core nature of film itself: character and performance. Flawed and beautiful all at once, Half Nelson is definitely one of the better films I've seen recently.

With Anthony Mackie in a good performance as Frank the drug dealer, cinematography by Andrij Parekh, and a surprisingly good score by Broken Social Scene (long live hipster film soundtracks!).

Links:
Jonathan Rosenbaum's review of Half Nelson

Let's Pound Some Budweiser

2007-04-01T16:00:00.000-07:00

Today is a glorious day. As the amazing Bill Veeck once said, "There's only two seasons: winter and Baseball" -- and today marks the beginning of the latter, kicking off with a matchup between the New York Mets and the St. Louis Cardinals (yes, I know, it's not particularly inspiring). But never the less, I'm gearing up to attend opening day at The Cell tomorrow, and could not be more excited about baseball season. So, in celebration, may the Tite Times provide some videos/links:

Interview with Bill Veeck:

White Sox Pre-Game Video Montage:

Video About Dick Allen, the Ultimate Bad Ass of Baseball:

Frank Thomas Blue Jays Commercial (kinda hilarious):

Death and the Compass (1996)

2007-03-28T20:54:00.000-07:00

Death and the Compass (Alex Cox, 1996)

Originally conceived as a 50 minute made-for-television film for Spanish TV/BBC in 1992, British filmmaker Alex Cox (Repo Man, Sid & Nancy) later expanded the film into a 96-minute feature. The film, which is adapted from the Jorge Luis Borges short story La Muerte y La Brujula, was Cox's second Mexican feature, and it is probably no coincidence that it is representative (if not obvious influence) of Luis Bunuel. In the film, Cox paints Borges' other-worldly vision of a crime-filled dystopia onto a stunning visual canvas of endlessly bright blues and yellows, long takes, and jump cuts, combined with muddled field recordings and an 80s-style synthesizer-filled soundtrack from Pray for Rain.

The story is all at once simple and vastly complex. The film is narrated in the present by Treviranus (Miguel Sandoval), who hysterically recalls the past downfall of the city's greatest detective, Erik Lonrot (Peter Boyle). A self professed rationalist, Lonrot begins investigating the murder of a Rabbi, and with the help of a Zunz (Christopher Eccleston), a nerdy journalist, he subsequently (and inaccurately) begins his symbolic, religious text-driven search to unmask a conspiracy involving the notoriously evil crime lord Red Scarlach. All of this, of course, is done against the advice of his commander, Treviranus, who gives us this story with a large amount of comical hysteria, pain, jealously, and sadness.

The strong visual style carries the film, and the plot unfolds (although clumsily) as a somewhat standard mystery (though absurd) -- though from what I've gathered about the Borges short story (I'm not this perceptive) is that it is often viewed as an allegory for the reading/misreading of text (i.e. Lonrot's impossible investigation), and the exploration of the relationship between truth, perception, and symbolism makes it a bit more interesting -- though it didn't really cross my mind upon viewing. Despite it's boots being stuck in the mud of not only Borges, but the film detective genre itself, Death and the Compass nobly leaves its Wellington's behind and ventures (in socks!) into a nightmarish mess of saturated colors and orgasmic surrealism. Cox makes the film his own, though at what price I'm not sure -- it's brilliant to look at and is comical in its own dark, off-beat way, but it comes across as a bit thin (and quite possibly lazy). Who knows though, maybe I'm just misreading it.

With wonderful cinematography by Miguel Garzon, jarring editing by Carlos Puente, and elaborate set design by Cecilia Montiel. 96 minutes. B&W and Color.

Links:
-Alex Cox on Death and the Compass
-Los Angeles Times review by Kevin Thomas
-Brief review from The Garden of Forking Paths
-Literary essay about the short story by Matei Calinescu

Shall We Gather At The River

2007-03-27T22:32:00.001-07:00

I returned this evening from my week long road trip via Recreational Vehicle, which took me and some fellow slackers from Chicago to Missouri, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Colorado (barely), and most importantly Arizona (where blackouts and visits to Monument Valley occurred). It was a grand time, and I managed to purchase a picture of John Ford, John Wayne, and Jimmy Stewart, a bandanna with a cow-skull on it, and lots of Red Bulls. Pictures and/or video might come soon, but my eyes hurt and I'm exhausted -- so in honor of my visit, here's the famous and hilarious clip from the Ford interview with Peter Bogdanovich:

Landis, Carpenter, Cronenberg Round Table Discussion (1982)

2007-03-19T12:52:00.000-07:00

If you've got 29 minutes to spare today, here's a television round table discussion from 1982 featuring John Landis, John Carpenter, and David Cronenberg. They talk about horror, obviously, among a few other things. Pretty interesting, even though Landis is a total dork. Strangely enough, this was filmed while Cronenberg and Carpenter were in production and/or post-production on Videodrome and The Thing, which are my favorite films from each of them.

Alejandro Jodorowsky Trailer

2007-03-18T21:31:00.000-07:00

The previously not so wonderful people at Abcko Films and/or the beloved people of Anchor Bay Entertainment, I'm not sure which, have recently provided the public with this video gem via the old interweb -- it's a trailer/advertisement for the Alejandro Jodorowsky DVD box set, which comes out May 1st. It includes a hilarious interview with Jodorowsky himself, in addition to songs and footage from El Topo, The Holy Mountain, and Fando y Lis. Enjoy.

Site Update (03.18.07)

2007-03-18T21:20:00.000-07:00

Hello, peoples. It's time to discuss a few site changes that might occur soon. I generally don't have the time or inclination to post a review everyday, and since my viewing and attending of the movies fluctuates, I've realized that there's no way this blog could be updated daily in its current state of only reviews. That being said, I'm going to make an effort to post other film-related stuff in between short reviews as an effort to provide you (the masses) with something interesting more often than I currently do. So that being said, well, that's all -- though it's worth mentioning that in two days I am embarking on a 7 day road trip via RV from Chicago to Arizona, which will include such stops as John Ford Point in Monument Valley, Utah, and Phoenix, Arizona, the home of heavy drinking in sleeveless t-shirts. Alright. Peace.

Privilege (1967)

2007-03-18T16:56:00.000-07:00

Privilege (Peter Watkins, 1967)

Peter Watkins takes his pseudo-documentary approach into a dystopic future Great Britain in Privilege, where Steven Shorter is the ultimate star of music, pop culture, fashion, and just about every other aspect of commercial society that you can imagine. The film starts with a typical Shorter concert, where he performs in a cage, handcuffed while he sings, only later to be let out and beat by police on stage. The fans love it. Eventually Shorter's managers (of which there are too many to remember) decide that they are going to use Steven as the face of a new public relations campaign promoting the unification of church and state, which is topped off by a concert in which a priest yells at all the fans to "Conform!", Steven is freed from his handcuffs and made to confess his sins and sing in midst of giant crosses and hysterical fans. The film, like other Watkins' work, is memorable in its hysteria and paranoia, and seems to celebrate that paranoia until the same concepts are repeatedly punching the audience in the face. I can't say its a bad thing, but for much of Privilege the camera just hovers and the film itself slows down on the verge of boredom (complimented by sleepy acting), and the newsreel-style voice over doesn't exactly have a place in the film. That being said, Privilege is the film of an extraordinary visionary, and it is just as applicable (if not more) to the world's (especially America's) use of blind and crazy idolism, materialism, greedy capitalism and corporatism. Watkins is uncompromising in his beliefs and drive behind his films, and this is no exception despite being his film which most resembles a true narrative -- so as clunky and unpolished as Privilege is at times, it remains a fascinating work of conviction (despite its hysteria) and darkly comedic imagination. With Paul Jones as Steven Shorter. 103 minutes. English.

Interesting: Patti Smith re-recorded her own version of "Set Me Free" from Privilege for her 1978 album Easter.

Tigrero: A Film That Was Never Made (1994)

2007-03-18T13:20:00.000-07:00

Tigrero: A Film That Was Never Made (Mika Kaurismaki, 1994)

In this partially contrived documentary by Finnish director Mika Kaurismaki, filmmakers Sam Fuller and Jim Jarmusch take a trip to the amazon, where 40 years before Fuller had gone to shoot footage and gather ideas for a script. The result was a conceived film, called Tigrero, with John Wayne, Ava Gardner and Tyrone Powers attached -- but Zanuck and 20th Century Fox were unable to get the necessary insurance and the project was abandoned. The documentary is in some ways about Fuller's exploration into the past and the people he had met on his first trip in 1953, but it's also about the culture of the tribe, the Karaja, in addition to seeing the two filmmakers interact (which to no surprise is dominated by Fuller's overbearing presence, but works nicely in contrast to Jarmusch's reserved, quiet personality). The viewer gets snippets of the Karaja culture, some back story about Fuller's original film, and other interactions, but there is no focus. We get acted out and contrived scenes between Fuller and Jarmusch, actual documentary footage and interviews, but there is no consistency in its style. An all together inoffensive and generally fun film, but its lack of identity makes it forgettable: it can't make up its mind what kind of film it wants to be and what it wants to be about, so the resulted feeling is that of emptiness. Side note -- the height difference between Fuller and Jarmusch is hilarious. 75 minutes. Color.

El Topo (1970)

2007-03-11T14:03:00.001-07:00

This review initially appeared in The DePaulia on Friday, February 16, 2007.

Return of the Midnight Masterpiece: Alejandro Jodorowsky's El Topo
Independent Film Review

Let’s go back in a time machine for a moment. It’s midnight in New York City, 1970. There’s a line around the block at our favorite local theater. Some celebrities are in line, like Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper and John Lennon. You’re very stoned, and quite possibly on various other drugs. The occasion of course, is a screening of Alejandro Jodorowsky’s "El Topo," a brutally bloody and delightfully absurd psychedelic spaghetti western. It is a film which in many ways is unlike any picture you have ever seen. It is here that the cultural phenomenon of the "midnight movie" is born.

Chilean-born filmmaker and graphic novelist Alejandro Jodorowsky wrote, directed, and stars in "El Topo," which was shot entirely in the beautiful and desolate desert landscapes of Mexico. The film begins with its Christ-like hero, El Topo (The Mole), a leather-clad, gun-wielding cowboy of sorts as he rides over the horizon into the picture. He orders his naked, 7 year-old son (Brontis Jodorowsky) to bury his first toy and the portrait of his mother. Soon after, they ride through a town in which anyone and everything has been massacred -- complete with shots of guts hanging out of animals and a river of blood. El Topo then seeks vengeance upon the responsible party.

He engages in a gunfight with a group of disgusting, balloon-blowing, howling bandits, and then tracks down and kills the treacherous and masochistic colonel accountable. El Topo then steals the colonel’s mistress and leaves his son to be raised by a group of previously enslaved monks. From there, at the suggestion of a woman named Mara, he sets out to travel the desert in an inward spiral in order to battle and defeat the Four Masters of the desert. This is just the beginning.

To understand "El Topo" is to understand that Jodorowsky is not as concerned with the plot as he is with assaulting the audience with a barrage of relentless, startling imagery and cluttered ideas pulled from any and all sources of influence. "El Topo" is an enigmatic journey towards enlightenment for its hero and Jodorowsky draws upon leftist radicalism, Bunuel-like surrealism, the genre and narrative bending of Godard, the disfigured characters of Tod Browning’s "Freaks," and the grit and violence of Leone and Corbucci spaghetti westerns, to name a few. Despite these positive similarities, Jodorowsky’s "El Topo" belongs to a class of its own.

In all the mish-mash of Catholic and Eastern religious ideology, overtly symbolic imagery (especially sexual), crude but often hysterical depiction's of slavery, fascism, animal cruelty, religious fanaticism, genocide, torture, sadomasochism, rape, and disfigurement, Jodorowsky creates a unique and provocative world out of his own warped mythology.

"El Topo" is an ambitious, overwhelming, engaging, and strangely amazing experience. It is a rare film that possesses the ability to shift from and blend moments of disgust and horror with laughter and silliness, and this along with its naturally complex and confusing nature have no doubt contributed to its long standing status as a cult masterpiece.

It’s been over 30 years since the original release of "El Topo," and the film has been widely unseen since its initial release, with the exception of poor quality bootlegs and imports. In 1971, John Lennon hailed the film as a ‘masterpiece,’ and convinced Beatles manager, Allen Klein, to purchase the rights to the film for distribution, whereupon it was released to much controversy. Klein later shelved the film after a business disagreement with Jodorowsky, and their ongoing feud prohibited any official release or distribution of the film in theaters or on video for 30 years. Until now, of course. Klein and Jodorowsky have buried the hatchet and have agreed to release the film on DVD in a box set, along with two of his other works, the earlier, improvised, mythical journey film "Fando y Lis" (1968) and the bigger budgeted, even more ambitious and symbol driven "The Holy Mountain" (1973). Along with this agreement came the personal restoration and remastering of the films by Jodorowsky himself, and the new 35MM prints of both "El Topo" and "The Holy Mountain" are touring the country. For those whose only experience with "El Topo" was a bootleg, seeing it restored on the big screen is like seeing the film for the very first time. For those who have never seen it, I’d recommend you join the ‘midnight mass’ of "El Topo," if you can stomach its grotesqueness. 125 minutes. Color. Abkco Films.

Ali: Feat Eats the Soul (1974)

2007-03-11T14:02:00.002-07:00

Ali: Fear Eats the Soul (Rainer Werner Fassbinder, 1974)

Fassbinder's take on Douglas Sirk's 1955 melodrama All That Heaven Allows. About the difficulties of the interracial relationship between Emmi (Brigitte Mira), an aging maid, and Ali (El Hedi ben Salem), an Arab car mechanic in Germany. Fassbinder's picture succeeds through heightening the character differences of the Sirkian archetypes -- he widens the age gap, changes their class level, and brings in the issue of race. A touchingly sad film, and one that is much more thought provoking and complicated than initially appears -- As a drug addict, homosexual, and real-life lover of Salem, Fassbinder certainly understood the limitations and difficulties of love in a hate filled, gossipy society, so all of this should come as no surprise. Great. 94 minutes. Color.

Bad Taste (1987)

2007-03-11T14:02:00.001-07:00

Bad Taste (Peter Jackson, 1987)

Long before he got fat and started making billion-dollar blockbusters, Peter Jackson made his first film, Bad Taste. It's about a group of goofy, incompetent government agents fighting a corporation of human eating aliens in a remote town in New Zealand. Though Jackson would go on to make much better pictures, including the horror-camp classic Dead Alive (1992), this film is pretty hilarious in that gore-splattering way. Fans of Big Pete should watch this, but by no means is it essential viewing. 91 minutes. Color.

David and Lisa (1962)

2007-03-11T14:01:00.002-07:00

David and Lisa (Frank Perry, 1962)

The first effort from director/screenwriter team Frank and Eleanor Perry. About the mental institution relationship between an extremely obsessive compulsive boy (Keir Dullea) and a schizoid girl (Janet Margolin) who speaks in rhyme. The hit of the Venice Film Festival in 1962, David and Lisa launched what would be a great career for the Perrys -- but the film itself is brutalized by its sappy ending, which prompted Pauline Kael to write, "The theme is love conquers mental illness; audiences seem to believe it, they're even willing to believe that earnestness conquers art." For those unfamiliar with Perry's work, you can skip this one and go right to The Swimmer (1968), Last Summer (1969) or Diary of a Mad Housewife (1970) -- all of which are much more polished and complex. 95 minutes. B&W.

The Naked Kiss (1964)

2007-03-11T14:01:00.001-07:00

The Naked Kiss (Sam Fuller, 1964)

Pulp auteur extraordinaire Sam Fuller wrote and directed this drama about Kelly (Constance Towers), a prostitute trying to make right in a small town. The film isn't particularly engaging, but Fuller's simplistic and often fun style has several memorable scenes of violence: the opening, in which Kelly beats her pimp over the head with her shoe repeatedly, and later when she kills her husband-to-be with a telephone after finding out he is a pedophile. 90 minutes. B&W.

Children of Men (2006)

2007-03-11T14:00:00.000-07:00

Children of Men (Alfonso Cuaron, 2006)

A visually stunning film. Cuaron's utilization of the long take-long shot is particularly noteworthy, and the elaborate staging used in the creation of this film is dealt with in painstaking detail. Unfortunately the remarkable visuals cannot make up for a half-assed script, which boasts a large number of cliche characters and a wholly unbelievable future dystopia -- it also goes the way of over-the-top humanity towards the end, which makes a potentially great scene a snoozefest. When Terry Gilliam's future world of slapstick in Brazil is more believable, you've got a problem. 109 minutes. Color. Rated R.

Fast Company (1979)

2007-03-11T13:59:00.003-07:00

Fast Company (David Cronenberg, 1979)

Fast Company stands today as the major outlier of Cronenberg's impressive and varied filmography. Though he's explored a variety of genres and themes, nothing is quite like this: a docudrama about drag racing, complete with pop-rock soundtrack. All in all it's an enjoyable, harmless film, but it's not much more than feel good exploitation with lots of fast cars. It's got the good guy / bad guy racing thing down, and John Saxon is pretty great as the sleazy corporate sponsor. What's more important than the film itself, are the long-term working relationships Cronenberg formed with cinematographer Mark Irwin, art director Carol Spier, and editor Ronald Howard while working on this film.

With William Smith as Lonnie "Lucky Man" Johnson, Nicholas Campbell as Billy "The Kid" Brocker, and Cedric Smith as Gary "The Blacksmith" Black, and the brutally dated rock soundtrack is mostly by Fred Mollin. 91 minutes. Color.

Pierrot le Fou (1965)

2007-03-11T13:59:00.001-07:00

Pierrot le Fou (Jean-Luc Godard, 1965)

Godard said himself that this wasn't really a film, but an "attempt at cinema". Made in between the dystopic future of Alphaville and the sociological investigation of youth Masculin Feminin, Pierrot le Fou is a pseudo gangster/road movie starring Godard regulars Jean-Paul Belmondo and Anna Karina. In a non-sensical mish-mash of scenes, they set out on a road adventure involving Algerian terrorists, briefcases of money, and the usual hardships of relationship stuff. It's a funny and exciting film, but its absurdity can't transcend the stronger themes and narratives of some of his other work.

With an awesome cameo by Sam Fuller, and the beautiful CinemaScope photography by Raoul Coutard. 110 minutes. Color. In French.

Shock Corridor (1963)

2007-03-11T13:58:00.001-07:00

Shock Corridor (Samuel Fuller, 1963)

Beyond the terrible acting, questionable use of superimpositions/effects, and preposterous concept, Sam Fuller's Shock Corridor is a fairly enjoyable film. The film is about Johnny Barrett (Peter Breck), a greedy journalist hell-bent on winning the Pulitzer Prize. How you ask? Simple, to fake a mental disorder, get committed to an insane asylum, and solve a murder. There's concern at the beginning of the film with Cathy (Constance Towers), his stripper girlfriend, who is worried that his exposure to the asylum would mess with this head and he wouldn't come out alright -- but it's swept aside by his delusions of grandeur and she ultimately agrees. What unravels is a beautifully shot 'mystery' filled with unbelievable 'insane' characters, who despite their absurdity are endlessly intriguing -- including an obese patient who thinks he's an opera singer named Pagliacci, a patient who thinks he's a Civil War general, a black patient who thinks he's a member of the KKK, and a world renowned scientist whose level of intelligence has reverted back to that of a 7 year old. Barrett's journey through the 'shock corridor' of course results in the inevitably harsh outcome, but Fuller succeeds in his own crudeness and simplistic approach to the material.

Written, directed, and produced by Fuller. Additional technicolor dream sequences shot by Fuller as well. The beautifully startling, black and white cinematography by Stanley Cortez (Night of the Hunter, Magnificent Ambersons). 101 minutes. B&W (some brief technicolor).

Mod Fuck Explosion (1994)

2007-03-11T13:57:00.002-07:00

Mod Fuck Explosion (Jon Moritsugu, 1994)

Jon Moritsugu wrote and directed this low-fi 'punk' film which is loosely structured around a rumble between a gang of vespa riding mods and motorcycle riding Asians. It focuses mostly on London (Amy Davis), her teenage naivete and innocence (and desire for a leather jacket), and the problems concerning her drug ridden and horny mother, outcast drug addict sister, mod brother X-Ray, and her crush on the dorky newspaper obsessed M16. Like most Moritsugu films, Mod Fuck Explosion is more about the impressions the images give off, the abrasiveness and/or absurdity of the music and title cards, and vaguely constructed ideas as 'scenes' which attempt to scathingly ridicule society, race, sex, classifications, etc. In this particular case, he succeeds quite effectively in making an absurdly funny yet strangely sad world, filled with punk rock, violent bikers, drugs, and girls who are interested in and talking about 'fucking'.

76 minutes. Color.

Reflections of Evil (2002)

2007-03-11T13:57:00.001-07:00

Reflections of Evil (Damon Packard, 2002)

Underground filmmaker Damon Packard's paranoid, disgusting, and jumbled portrayal of modern America is a terrifying, sloppily made condemnation of everything, and has become a cult sensation since its release in 2002. The film is too long for its own good, but within the jumbled mess of 16MM film, digital video, archival footage, cheesy low budget effects, bad voice overs and dubbing, and an ingenious vomiting scene is a oddly fascinating film. To describe it to its fullest would either be impossible or take way too long, but it loosely follows an obese watch salesman (played by Packard) who wanders around Los Angeles, which becomes his own personal nightmare (Side Note: He's like a modern, retarded Ignatius Reilly). There's also a portion of the film devoted to a brilliant 70s flashback in which a girl (Packard's "sister" in the film) comes across an early Steven Spielberg production called "Something Evil" on the Universal lot, where most of the crew is burned alive in an accident as a result of the young Spielberg's recklessness. Anyways, Reflections of Evil has its great moments of horror and humor, but it's a case of biting off a bit more than one can chew.

138 minutes. B&W and Color.

Punishment Park (1970)

2007-03-11T13:56:00.001-07:00

Punishment Park (Peter Watkins, 1970)

British director Peter Watkins wrote and directed this pseudo documentary about a group of bearded, dirty 'counter-culture' members who are standing trial in the desert of Southern California for various (though vague) crimes. Made at the height of the Vietnam war, Punishment Park is in part based on the McCarran Internal Security Act of 1950 which authorizes federal authorities to detain and sentence people who are considered 'threats' without referring to congress or a standard court trial.

This film has it all: oppressive and murderous national guard troops, staunchly conservative and lame looking tribunal members and judges, and every facet of the counter culture: the anti-war, the feminist, the civil rights, the communists, etc., and most importantly, a 'game' in which these prisoners are supposed to hike across the desert to reach an American flag, where upon they will be released -- unless of course they are caught by the troops. Watkins' documentary style camerawork and fast paced, thoughtful editing shine in this film, constantly drawing paralleles and cutting between those standing trial and those in the desert, running from the troops. It's violent, political, and deals with specific issues a lot better than most political films of the time. It's an assault on the senses, and though dated in much of the ideology spouted in the film, this one is a horrifyingly awesome ride from start to finish.

With non-actors in almost all of the roles (and actually helping the realism for once). 88 minutes. Color.

Kiss Me Deadly (1955)

2007-03-11T13:55:00.000-07:00

Kiss Me Deadly (Robert Aldrich, 1955)

Robert Aldrich's stylish and apocalyptic film noir was a late comer in the noir cycle, yet it remains one of my all time favorites. Adapted from a Mickey Spillane novel which Aldrich despised, he and writer A.I. Bezzerides turned the tough-as-nails private investigator Mike Hammer (Ralph Meeker) into quite possibly the most inept, suicidal, impulse driven, narcissistic, and lousy noir protagonist of them all. Hammer punches his way through a mystery concerning the murder of a lunatic asylum escapee and a strange box that everyone and their mother is after (re: the 'great whatsit'). Hammer is way in over his head in this one, and despite his natural instincts for survival, he can't help but be duped by anyone and everyone and bring this film to a memorable, fireworks filled end.

With Meeker bringing the perfect amount of toughness and confusion to the role of Hammer, Maxine Cooper as his lusty assistant Velda, Nick Dennis as the stereotypical 'hispanic' Nick ("Vavavoooom!!!"), and the impressive, often skewed camera work and slashy light/dark lighting by Ernest Laszlo. 106 minutes. B&W.

Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956)

2007-01-23T11:34:00.000-08:00

Invasion of the Body Snatchers (Don Siegel, 1955)

Invasion of the Body Snatchers was one of a few "B" films that helped Don Siegel rise to the ranks of Hollywood "A" director (along with The Lineup and Riot in Cell Block 11), and to this day it holds up as one of the most influential and great sci-fi/invasion films of the 1950s.

The film follows Dr. Miles Bennell (Kevin McCarthy) as the small town doctor who stumbles upon a diabolical plan where the population is being replaced by alien duplicates. The film's style and pace are dead on, moving quickly from one scene to another, and isolating the viewer's point of view to that of Miles -- which effectively brings the utmost sympathy for him, and makes the end all the more insane and scary.

It's hard to write about a film that has been written about a lot, but it's important to mention here that many critics and theorists view this film as an allegory to communism (re: aliens/pods=communists, reds, pinkos) -- though Don Siegel has denied this thoroughly, and from reading interviews with him, is more of a film that argues against the rise of corporate America, bureaucracy, the loss of feeling, and the 'business first' mentality that was on the rise in post-war America. It's also of importance that the opening and closing scenes, as well as the voice over, Siegel claims to have shot in self-defense, as the studio forced him to put it in, and he did it himself to 'avoid having one of their pod directors do it'. He's also claimed that they took much of the comedy out, and from what I can tell that's true, since this film, as is, is dead serious.

Never the less, Invasion of the Body Snatchers remains an essential classic of 1950s sci-fi that captures paranoia and despair through its brilliant use of stylistic lighting, quick editing, general creepiness, and its awesome fatalistic ending.

With Dana Winter as the lovely Becky, Larry Gates as Danny, and a young Sam Peckinpah in a brief cameo as the gas man in Miles' basement. 80 minutes. Black and White.

Withnail and I (1987)

2007-01-23T11:20:00.000-08:00

Withnail and I (Bruce Robinson, 1987)

First thoughts: Withnail and I is a really British movie. I mean that in both good and bad ways, especially for an American viewer like myself. The film concerns two young friends, who are out of work actors with a tendency of indulging in heavy drinking and drugs. The aforementioned friends, are of course, Withnail and "I". Withnail is rail-thin, theatrically flamboyant and narcissistic -- "I" on the other hand, is the healthier looking, more responsible one, but doesn't mind slumming it with his pal in the big city.

Basically, they get so high that they freak out and decide they need to get out of the city, which they do -- and 'escape' to a countryside house that belongs to Withnail's fat, bizarre, homosexual uncle Monty. The film is essentially a comedy buddy film, and is written with a very literate, hilarious sharp wit -- though at times it's a bit much, from the slang to the obviously forced deliveries of certain lines -- but that's part of its charm.

The two characters, as mentioned, are actors -- and this film is as much about strange encounters with murderous poachers as it's about self-deception and the realization of failed dreams and hopelessness. Apparently based on the personal exploits of writer/director Bruce Robinson, Withnail and I has a certain sadness to the film (which becomes explicit near the end), and it makes it much more than a goofy drug comedy. The film also launched the career of Richard E. Grant (Withnail) who would go on to star in a bunch of films, not limited to a few appearances in some Altman films (The Player, Gosford Park).

With Paul McGann as Marwood, Richard Griffiths as Uncle Monty, and Ralph Brown as the stoner/drug dealer Danny. Rated R. 107 minutes.

Additional note, disclaimer: the accents are kind of brutal at times, and I watched a bulk of the film with subtitles on because of either slang or lack of being able to hear what the hell they are saying.

Safe (1995)

2007-01-16T10:50:00.000-08:00

Safe (Todd Haynes, 1995)

Rating: A-

Todd Haynes wrote and directed this ambiguously disturbing film about isolation, emptiness, delusion, and paranoia in modern suburbia (although seemingly applicable to the 'modern' world). Safe was his second feature film, and remains a big achievement -- in regards to his earlier works (most notably 1991's Poison), and to 90s independent cinema.

The film concerns Carol White, a suburban house-wife in California, whose emptiness and delusion leads her to a series of panic attacks and the paranoia of being 'environmentally ill'. Played with the perfect amount of frailty, confusion, and lack of self identity by Julianne Moore, Carol is an intriguing character: she knows something is wrong her life, is obviously dispassionate towards just about everything -- and she does not know what is wrong or how to solve these particular mysteries. When confronted with her problems, she cannot identify them, much as she cannot identify herself -- this lack of knowing, or lack of identity, makes it impossible for her to get better (both mentally and physically). When she begins to have actual physical reactions to her own, presumably self-created illness, her search for the solution is a painfully hopeless one to watch. Safe could have easily gone down the roads of other crappy disease movies, or even actually blamed the environment for Carol's problems -- but it doesn't. The film offers no solutions to Carol's illness, and Haynes allows the viewer to come to their own conclusions. The film culminates in two particularly heart-shattering scenes near the end, and Carol's struggle will go on long after the credits roll.

If 1991's Poison was a mere indication and hint of Haynes' talent, Safe is his coming out party (almost a bad joke for a guy labeled one of the pioneers of 'New Queer Cinema', har har) -- the film is shot in extremely long shots and takes, and the suburban environment looks as if it is consuming Carol, and the use of big open spaces gives off an unnerving sense of emptiness and isolation, yet the feelings for Carol remain one's of restraint and claustrophobia. For an apt (though not entirely accurate) comparison, imagine the visual style to be 2001: A Space Odyssey in the San Fernando Valley.

With Xander Berkeley as the 'you don't like him but feel bad for him' husband, Peter Peter Friedman as the shmoozy and cliche cult leader, the excellently creepy low-hum/drone soundtrack by Ed Tomney, and the spacious and beautiful cinematography by Alex Nepnomniaschy. 120 minutes. Rated R.

Cache (2005)

2007-01-13T16:42:00.000-08:00

Cache (Michael Haneke, 2005)

Rating: B

The film opens with a lengthy, static shot of an apartment on a architecturally cluttered street in France. We soon learn that this is actually footage from a tape, which has been sent to talk show host Georges Laurent and his publicist wife Anne. The tape sets off a series of terrorizing-type activities, in the form of both video and odd, children's drawings. They do not know who it is, though we all learn who it is later, well, kind of -- Cache is a vague film, but probably for all the right reasons.

The title, Cache, translated into English means hidden -- and is better for understanding the film. The film is very much about what is hidden, and in this case, Georges possesses what is potentially a 'horrible' secret from his childhood -- and at the same time, the strained relationship of Georges and Anne is taken to the test and becomes very much about what they are hiding from eachother through this 'stalking/terrorizing' endeavor. Unfortunately, the latter is the most interesting, but given the least amount of screen time. The former, Georges childhood 'secret', becomes somewhat the center of the film (though the film hardly has a center). Forgive me if I plead ignorance on the murky past of Algerian/French relations, but if what we perceive is to be true, then the importance and horror of all this terrorizing is shallow and almost inconceivable.

Austrian director Michael Haneke (though current French resident) does himself a favor in Cache however, by keeping it vague. And very vague it is. Outside of the relative lack of resolution, the emptiness and suspense is illuminated through the lack of clarity (and this is a good thing). Visually, the film is controlled and deliberately slow, which shows Haneke's patience and discipline, and most of the shots in the film might as well have been the same static surveillance shots. It's clearly made with painful attention to detail. Another plus, the film is wonderfully acted, mainly by Daniel Auteuil and Juliette Binoche, who sleepwalk through this movie to the point of complete believability -- it shares the icy cool acting and characters as Hitchcock's Vertigo (again, a very good thing).

Cache is a film of suspense and mystery, which is handled with care even through the climax (which is a shockingly brutal and amazing scene) -- but it gets muddled in its politics and childish revenge elements. Though it's been noted elsewhere, check the left hand side of the screen in the final shot of the film, which suggests an endless amount of scary possibilities.

117 minutes. Rated R. In French with English subtitles.

My Darling Clementine (1946)

2007-01-05T18:06:00.000-08:00

My Darling Clementine (John Ford, 1946)

Rating: A-

There is one thing that should pass through the mind of the modern viewer when watching John Ford's classic western adaptation of the Earp legend, My Darling Clementine: "Tombstone is a great fucking movie." That of course, friends, is the curse of modernity. Now I understand, believe me, if there is no John Ford, there certainly is no Tombstone. To dismiss one of the most revered westerns in American history, as well as the Western's finest director, would probably be considered a travesty to most -- but this is the world we (I) live in.

It's no one's fault that My Darling Clementine has become an inferior film over the years. And after all, it's a pretty good film itself, of which some people have considered a masterpiece. It's skillfully acted, beautifully shot and composed, and directed with the patience and control that only old man Ford could pull off without really caring at all (at least pretending not to). Clementine is a variation on the same old story -- the Earp brothers, Wyatt, Virgil, and Morgan, end up in Tombstone, in this case, because their cattle was stolen and their brother James, murdered in the process. Wyatt soon comes out of his 'retirement' and suits up as Marshall in a town full of whores and thieves. This time around, the film is about self-sacrifice, progress, and morality -- all of which makes sense in the ashes of World War II. The problem with My Darling Clementine, however, is its simplicity. The Earp's are good. The Clanton's are bad. Black. White. Shotgun to the head. Holliday is the only character in the film that provides any sort of uniqueness, and he's quite the tortured soul: a former doctor turned gambler/gunslinger, dying of tuberculosis, easing the pain with alcoholism, and so on. This might have passed in 1946, but 50 years later, the same old story has been exhausted, and it takes an anti-hero, an axe-murderer, or a more complex character than Ford's good ol' Earp to stir the pot in my belly.

Of note: Earp is played with a sense of dignity, pride, and decency that probably only Henry Fonda could have pulled off -- and it's no wonder Ford cast him instead of his usual partner, John Wayne. Fonda delivers every line with heart and sincerity, and gives an excellent performance.

With Linda Darnell as Holliday's woman, Chihuahua, Cathy Downs as Clementine of the title, Walter Brennan as Old Man Clanton, the ultimate heavy, Ward Bond as Morgan Earp, and John Ireland as Billy Clanton. The beautiful cinematography is by Joe MacDonald, who should have thought twice about shooting day-for-night, produced by Daryl Zanuck. 97 minutes. B&W.

Once in a Lifetime (2006)

2007-01-05T09:08:00.000-08:00

Once in a Lifetime: The Extraordinary Story of the New York Cosmos (Paul Crowder, John Dower, 2006)

Rating: B-

The truly fascinating thing about the New York Cosmos was that they weren't just a popular soccer team in the United States -- they were soccer in the United States. With the rise of the Cosmos came the rise of soccer, and with the downfall of the Cosmos came the downfall of soccer (in Amerca). This documentary, which came out this past year, is a good look back on the creation, existence, and downfall of the New York Cosmos and the North American Soccer League, starting in the early 1970s and lasting thru the early 1980s.

A brief history lesson: the New York Cosmos were bought out by Steve Ross and Warner Communications, who then purchased some of the finest soccer players in the world (Pele, Carlos Alberto, Franz Beckenbauer, Giorgio Chinaglia, etc.), and single handedly popularized soccer in America.

The film has its fair share of sweet old school soccer footage and anectdotes, but is mainly about Warner Communications guru Steve Ross (and company), and the greedy power struggles that came with the country's most popular franchise. The complete lack of cohesion within the interviewees responses also makes this movie a joy, since everyone seems to have their own view and take on what happened, especially the power hungry Giorgio Chinaglia, who is blamed by many for the death of American soccer.

The film makes the argument that the impact of the Cosmos and the NASL was invaluable to soccer in America, leading to countless youth leagues and kids kickin' the old football around still today and the Unites States competing in the World Cup, but what its about is a grand failure, on the part of the owners, players, and the fans. This film is a treasure simply because it covers a period in time where the United States was obsessed with soccer -- and though the MLS currently thrives in its own small market, nothing like the Cosmos and the NASL will likely ever be seen again in this country. A good thing: this film can be watched and enjoyed by non-soccer fiends (like myself), but that's also kind of a problem, since the style of the film is dreadful, like a bad 'behind the scenes' television show. Never the less, Once in a Lifetime is a worthwhile watch, for any American, who wants to relive or for the first time learn about the national phenomenon that was the New York Cosmos and the NASL.

Features interviews with Marv Albert, Carlos Alberto, Franz Beckenbauer, Giorgio Chinaglia, Ahmet Ertegun, Mia Hamm, Steve Hunt, Rodney Marsh, Shep Messing, Werner Roth and more (Pele declined to be interviewed on the grounds of payment, he wanted $100,000, which proves that he really is the money grubbing asshole he was when he became the country's highest payed athlete in 1975, great player or not). Narrated by Matt Dillon. DVD features full length championship games, including (for Chicago fans) the 1981 final against the Chicago Sting. PG-13. 97 minutes.

Can't Stop The Titeness

2006-12-25T17:43:00.000-08:00

Happy Holidays, all.

This is where I apologize for not updating since December 8th. My extended winter break left me full up with film projects, hangouts, weddings, and holiday activities. I've probably watched some movies since then, but none really worth posting about -- I don't have to broadcast to the world that Spike Lee's "School Daze" is a bad movie. The only film I watched since my last post that was worth talking about is probably "Grey Gardens", the Maysles documentary from 1976 about the Beales, which is fascinating, funny, obnoxious, and boring at the same time. It's worth a watch, and hopefully I'll type much more about it later.

That being said, I'm in the process of finishing up a short film for an online competition at the moment, and then on Thursday I head to Phoenix, Arizona, the desert land of Steve Nash, Beer Pong, NBA Live 2005, and karaoke near the airport. So sorry faithful readers (though I know you don't exist), but I won't be posting anything until I get back after January 3rd. I hope you all have a great New Years and get very blacked out for me. I know I will.

In January, the Titeness will continue and come on like gangbusters. Reviews to look forward to (or dread):

Francois Truffaut's "Shoot the Piano Player"
Jean Renoir's "The Rules of the Game"
Yasujiro Ozu's "Good Morning"
Todd Haynes' "Safe"
Stanley Kubrick's "The Killing"
Luis Bunuel's "The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie"
"Cache"
...and more.

So until then, remember what Jacques Rivette said:

"The evidence on the screen is proof of Hawks's genius: you only have to watch Monkey Business to know that it is a brilliant film. Some people refuse to admit this however; they resue to be satisfied by proof. There can't be any other reason why they don't recognize it."

[img]http://web.utk.edu/~cmaland/images/fargo.jpg[/img]

(Music to write to, a new favorite of mine: Wilderness, "Vessel States")

Swimming With Sharks (1994)

2006-12-04T23:16:00.000-08:00

Swimming With Sharks (George Huang, 1994)

Rating: B+

We've seen it before, we've heard it before -- people in Hollywood are assholes. Swimming in Sharks is about two of these assholes (and some others), specifically thet foul-mouthed jerk-off studio boss Buddy Ackerman (Kevin Spacey) and the naive recent film school graduate assistant Guy (Frank Whaley). The film is about the greed and power that drives these characters, and how they are able to survive and thrive (swim with the sharks!) in a cuthroat environment. Swimming With Sharks brings to mind a similar film that came out several years before, Christopher Guest's The Big Picture. Both involve a recent film graduate who has gone to Hollywood with ideals only to be swept up in the shit-storm hurricane of petty in-studio politics and money-grubbing idiots. The difference however, is drastic -- Swimming With Sharks avoids the fluffy, jokey side that brought down The Big Picture and tears into the culture with one of those spikey ball and chain things that would rip off all the skin on your ribs (i.e. James Caviezel while filming Passion of the Christ). That's not to say that Swimming With Sharks isn't funny though, it's just funny in the biting, satirical way, which always wins me over more so than light-hearted drab. The film is constructed in a non-linear fashion, which allows the manipulation of the viewer in order to shift the understanding of each character as the film goes along -- which is done quite well. To give away more of the plot would be to ruin it, so I'll keep it minimal, and say that what's good about Swimming With Sharks is its ability to pull itself out of the hole that it finds itself in constantly. Just when you think it would be predictable and go in an overly melodramatic and shitty direction, it finds a clever and fulfilling solution to the problems at hand. They say to give the audience what they want, just not how they expect it: and that's precisely what works here. The dialogue is written well, though a bit self-indulgent and comes across awkwardly with some of the weaker actors. Spacey however, is nothing short of brilliant, and he makes the film what it is with his performance.

With Benicio Del Toro in a small role and Michelle Forbes as the object of everyones affection (kind of). Rated R. 93 minutes.

Poison (1991)

2006-12-01T15:02:00.000-08:00

Poison (Todd Haynes, 1991)

Rating: B

I might be at a handicap here since I've never read anything by Jean Genet, and the three narratives of Poison are based on his writings. A movie is a movie however, and a filmmaker can never expect that his viewers have read the 'based on' material, so here goes nothing:

Poison marked the directorial debut of Todd Haynes (contributing pioneer of New Queer Cinema) outside of his previous effort and now bootleg cult classic The Karen Carpenter Story, which doesn't really count since it was made with barbie dolls. The film uses three completely different narratives to explore sexuality -- which includes themes of isolation, love, homosexuality, paranoia, disease, sadomasochism, violence, and jealousy. The three segments are titled Hero, Horror, and Homo.

Hero is a mock documentary, evoking the style of Errol Morris in order to tell the story of a misunderstood child's murder of his abusive stepfather, and his mysterious disappearence. Through interviews we learn that the child had some peculiar sadomasochistic (and homosexual) tendencies, and was a master manipulator of other people. We also learn that he had an abusive stepfather, of whom he shot, before he flew away through a window, his mother says. Hero is the weakest link of the narrative, as the interviews are often not as funny as they should (could) be, and the is either the most shallow in thematic depth or the hardest to understand. It captures the strangeness of modern suburbia in the same way that Morris captures similar absurdities in Gates of Heaven and Vernon, Florida -- but the problem is that the latter are not only real, but much funnier.

Horror is a black and white 1950s style monster movie (think Roger Corman) -- and uses a scientific experiment gone wrong as an allegory for the AIDS crisis and paranoia of the American public. Stylistically, Haynes captures it perfectly -- the awkward, cheesy inflection of dialogue, the expressionist black and white lighting, cheap laughs, and its obvious low-budget appeal. Thematically, it's the easiest to follow of the three, and is the most frenetic, complimented by a freakout jazzy-type score and the sadness, horror, paranoia, humor of the disease and contagiousness. This segment shines because it forces you to not take it too seriously while still getting its message across.

Homo is the story of an orphan turned thief, who has found himself in prison, suffering at the hands of his repressed homosexuality and love of another one of the prisoners. This narrative is in the vein of French realism, and again, captures the style excellently despite how derrivitive it is. It's the most complicated and challenging of the three narratives, and Haynes does a particularly good job in portraying the relationship between the two prisoners and the awkardness and hesitance for them to act as who they are in their situation: the jealousy, the tension, the fear. What is impressive about this segment is Haynes' tendencies towards the subtle nuances of dialogue and character -- he often lets the camera just roll, before and after the what's scripted, and captures reactions and looks that are devastating.

The film cuts between these three narratives, and is the film's major fault -- since they are so different in style it often takes you out of the picture as you have to re-adjust to the style, characters, and varying themes. Never the less, Poison is an extremely impressive independent film, even though Hayne's ambition gets the best of him. It has style and substance (albeit a bit mushed together) and its no wonder Haynes has gone on to have a successful and uncompromising career -- the talent displayed here is one of encouraging possibilities.

NC-17 (for a shot of an erect dick). B & W and Color. 85 minutes.

Edmond (2005)

2006-11-28T17:50:00.000-08:00

Edmond (Stuart Gordon, 2005)

Rating: B

Stuart "Re-Animator" Gordon directs this film adaptation of David Mamet's 1982 stage play about Edmond Burke (William H. Macy), who is essentially the ultimate of the modern repressed white American male. Edmond's life goes from mundane to a psychotic rage fest in the course of one night in the Big Apple, and it's a wildly fun, bizarre ride. After a strange encounter with a fortune teller, Edmond leaves his wife. Then after a strange encounter with a business man (Mamet heavyweight and resident Chicagoan Joe Mantegna) who tells him that "the niggers have it easy" and to "go find some fun" -- he embarks in a night on the town. He looks around to get laid: but instead finds a lot of expensive hookers and strippers, con men and con games, pimps with knives who are trying to stab him, a sweet WWI soldiers knife at a pawn shop, and so on. Mamet's script has his name written all over it, and is hysterical in that hyper-masculine stylized dialogue way, and is considerably darker than much of his other work. Edmond's descent, which leads him into a particularly bad place, is as much about the scum-infested streets of New York in Taxi Driver as it is about the scum-infested soul of the white American male. A foolish viewer might see Edmond as a victim, but his racist, violent, and psychotic inside makes him both the hero (in the traditional protagonist sense) and villain of the story. In a series of trials, Edmond unleashes the inner-hate of man that is so repressed and played down in modern American society that here we see what happens when it is unleashed (bad things!). This film is as black as Special Agent Dale Cooper's coffee, and it's quite the enjoyable journey watching a man trying to solve the meaningless of his (and our) existence.

Stuart Gordon, the once promising filmmaker and director of the cult-classic Re-Animator has apparently freed himself from the sticky web that is bad H.P. Lovecraft adaptations to put a chilling, creepy touch on the film -- though is inconsistent: he meanders in and out of an odd, surreal style mixed with some by-the-books filmmaking. It feels quite staged for a lot of it, but hell, it was a stage play...and I never complained during Oleanna, American Buffalo, or Glengarry Glen Ross, so I won't now. Gordon is also an old Chicago friend of Mamet, which is bonus points for the both of them (Chicago rulez). A strange coincidence: the film features both a pawn-shop, similar to the one in the previously staged American Buffalo, and an on-street con game, reminiscent of the later film House of Games.

With Julia Stiles as the waitress, Denise Richards as a stripper, Jeffrey Combs in a cameo as a hotel clerk, Mena Suvari as a whore, George Wendt as the pawn-shop owner, and Rebecca Pidgeon still as David Mamet's wife and a bad actress. Rated R. 82 minutes.

Unknown (2006)

2006-11-26T21:12:00.000-08:00

Unknown (Simon Brand, 2006)

Rating: D

Unknown is based on an interesting concept: how a group of people locked in a wharehouse, who have no recollection of who they are or how they got there, react when put in an extreme situation of life and death. They all wake up, and soon enough find out that they were involved in a violent kidnapping plot, and the fun is that none of them know which side they are on -- they simply know that by sundown big, bad, accent toting Peter Stormare and Mark Boone Junoir (in his usual greaseball bad guy role) are going to show up in a Denali and clean up whatever mess is on their hands.

The problem here (among many) is with the script by Matthew Waynee, which favors stock dialogue of characters explaining their situation and feelings outloud, cheap flashbacks triggered by people looking in mirrors, and a handful of loophole filled sucker-punch twists. Waynee's script manages to avoid the interesting issues by suffocating the character's individuality through their 'lack of remembering' -- it's more interested in brutish and irrational exchanges than character development, logic, and building suspense. The kicker is that the film spells everything out for the audience, with-holding certain information only for the sake of twist, and in turn breaking all sorts of obvious David Mamet and Alfred Hitchcock rules of filmmaking and suspense: the script treats the audience like a bunch of idiots. And without respect for the audience, it's impossible to engage them.

The film was made by Simon Brand, former pop-music video and commercial director, which is indicative of his style, which is non-existent. Even worse, the film tries to cover up its cookie-cutter style with a barrage of hokey editing tricks ('oh my, jump cuts!') and visual effects ('oh my, blurry flashbacks!'). Much of the film plays out like bad television melodrama: it is awkwardly paced and foolishly heavy handed, has a generically crappy score, and a whole ton of wooden acting from some otherwise notable actors. More and more directors these days are coming from backgrounds similar to that of Brand, and more and more it is seeming like one big shitty idea. A guy might be able to direct a Nike commercial and an Enrique Iglesias video with relative success, but feature films are a much more sensitive and demanding medium -- and Brand's inexperience shows in his inability to overcome or alter a script that's comparable to a giant balloon of hot air.

The stellar cast gone wrong is: Barry Pepper, Greg Kinnear, Joe Pantaliano, James "Jesus Christ" Caviezel, and Jeremy Sisto. There are other actors, but those scenes (outside the wharehouse) especially suck. The notably bad score is by Angelo Milli. Color. 98 minutes. Not-rated.

Vertigo (1958)

2006-11-26T12:33:00.000-08:00

Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)

Rating: B+

Hitchcock's calculated, smooth approach to every aspect of the film is astounding, and Stewart gives a memorable performance as Scottie, a recently retired police detective in San Francisco who develops a severe case of vertigo (re: 'afraid of heights'). In the final scene, Stewart's delivery has the ability to pierce a man's soul (much like his final speech in Rope) -- and Kim Novak's icy cold, detached performance fits the film perfectly. The film is about a man who falls in love with an illusion, and the powerful nature of deception and loss. The third act of the film really picks up and becomes ultra creepy as Stewart's obsession is heightened -- and it becomes more clear that Hitchcock isn't concerned with the seemingly superficial love of the two characters as much as Stewart's love of the image of a woman, her clothes, her hair, her jewelry. There's no doubt that Vertigo is a masterpiece, and one of Hitchcock's finest -- but like almost all of his films, it is gimmicky and favors fantasy over reality. I found it difficult to be sympathetic with Scottie, even though he is brutally duped in a con game -- but the motivations for his irrational love of Madeline (or, her image) in the first two acts is unclear and seems like he's kind of just crazy, which makes it hard to care. With a weird, hypnotic score by Bernard Herrmann, Barbera Bel Geddes as the too-mom like-to-be-sexual friend Midge, and Galvin Elster as the something-is-not-right-here old college buddy. Color. 128 minutes.

Medium Cool (1969)

2006-11-23T22:31:00.000-08:00

Medium Cool (Haskell Wexler, 1969)

Rating: A

Semi-documentary written, directed, shot, and produced by the now-legendary cinematographer Haskell Wexler. The film takes place in Chicago, 1968, and centers on TV news cameraman John (Robert Forster), who at the beginning of the film approaches his work and lifestyle with a cold and disturbing detachment. The film follows him as he befriends a Vietnam war widow (Verna Bloom) and her son, is fired from his job after finding out the FBI and police have been viewing his footage, and culminates with the riots in the summer of 1968 at the Democratic National Convention. Wexler uses powerful imagery in the style of cinema verite -- and captures an uncomfortably realistic feel while breaking down all barriers between fiction and documentary. Medium Cool is as beautiful, stylish, and confrontational as any of the late 60s films of similar technique (i.e. Easy Rider, Midnight Cowboy) -- but Wexler's natural tendency to tell the story through simple images trumps any of the shallow fiction elements that hinder the other films of the time period. It's a barrage of the senses, effortlessly weaving overlapping sound and picture, full of political banter, media theory, social arguments -- and one that is easy to welcome with open arms. A must-see for most, and required viewing for any Chicagoan. The film features a great scene where you can hear an assistant off-camera say, "Haskell, it's real!" -- referring to the tear gas which has been shot at them by the CPD. Studs Terkel is given a credit as "our man in Chicago" which I found humorous. 110 minutes.

What is it? (2006)

2006-11-19T16:18:00.000-08:00

What is it? (Crispin Hellion Glover, 2006)

Rating: D+

I had the pleasure/displeasure of seeing this film on Crispin Hellion Glover's current tour -- which includes Glover in the flesh as he presents a slideshow where he reads from his books, shows his directorial debut film "What is it?", and fields questions from the audience afterwards. The slideshow, which apparantly is deemed "The Big Slide Show", was funny and interesting at times, but dragged on too long as he rambled and re-used the same style and humor for every book. This is a perfect segue into the film, because it's the same way: once the shock and absurdity wears off you'll encounter an impenetrable, clunky mess.

What is it? is written, directed, produced, and starring Glover, and is an overtly surreal and uncomfortable film. The film's main storyline concerns a man who gets locked outside his apartment and wanders around a bunch, encountering different people and pouring salt all over snails -- the kick is that all of these actors are portrayed by people with down syndrome. On the other hand is the "underground" type world, an obvious portrayal to the inner-psyche of the character(s?) and features Glover himself as the ruler of this world, which is full of Nazi symbols, naked women moving watermelons, a Shirley Temple doll, a minstrel wearing black face, music by Charlie Manson, and is not limited to the naked man with cerebral palsey getting a handjob in a giant clam. The film goes in and out of both these worlds, juxtaposing the "innocence" of the characters with down syndrome to the world of hate, racism, and dictatorship led by Glover. I'd go into the 'meaning' of the film more, but I'd prefer people do it themselves or just dismiss it (like many have, I'm sure). What is it? is a jarring and often uncomfortable film (in a good way), but once the jig is up, the film drags, not to mention all the out of focus shit made my eyes hurt real bad. Glover likes to claim that the film was influenced by Bunuel, Herzog, Fassbinder, and Kubrick, but it's closer to a clumsy version of a David Lynch film -- the film is so inside itself and ridden with poor execution that it is a bore. With Fairuza Balk as the voice of a snail, and the Chicago audience as a bunch of idiots asking bad questions afterwards. Unrated. 72 minutes.

Borat (2006)

2006-11-18T12:11:00.000-08:00

Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan (Larry Charles, 2006)

Rating: A-

British actor/comedian extraordinaire Sacha Baron Cohen wrote, produced, and stars in this extension of his character on Da Ali G Show. For those who don't know, Borat Sagdiyev is a television reporter from Kazakhstan who is sent to America to interview people and gain information on how to improve his home country. The film is more or less a mockumentary, with a mixture of unscripted interviews and interactions as well as some scripted scenes this time around. Directed by former Seinfeld writer and Entourage/Curb Your Enthusiasm director Larry Charles, the film follows Borat as he travels/interviews his way across the country in search of Pamela Anderson (after having seen a re-run of "Baywatch" on television). The film is as much a comedy as it is a satire and exploration of what is wrong with America -- racism, sexism, homophobia are just the beginning of what's exposed in his travels and encounters drunk frat bros, hate-filled rodeo riders, delusional southern church-goers, and so on.

Cohen's natural skill of improvisational comedy shines in his ability to masterfully guide conversation and mold scenes into both complete hilarity and utter repulsion. Those familiar with the character won't be surprised at the content, but that doesn't mean there aren't laughs -- for there are plenty. Some of the show gags are re-hashed, but there's enough original material here that entertains for both veterans and newcomers to Borat -- but that's also partially the problem, as it becomes hard to sustain the joke for a solid 84 minutes. Like any film that is an extension of an already established character, it's going to have to naturally cater to the audience who knows nothing, which leads to some particularly unfunny scripted moments and backstory type stuff that falls flat. That being said, the hype is pretty real on this one, and its mixture of both gross-out humor and social satire had me belly-laughing in a theatre for the first time in a few years. Cohen is a wonderful gift to contemporary comedy/satire, and we can hope this is just the beginning of his ventures to the silver screen. The film also features a disgusting scene involving naked fighting/wrestling that will be a topic of conversation for a long while. Co-written by Old School director/G.G. Allin documentarian Todd Phillips, "Da Ali G Show" writers Anthony Hines and Dan Mazer, and Peter Baynham. Rated R. Distributed by 20th Century Fox. 84 Minutes.

Stealing Beauty (1996)

2006-11-11T11:29:00.000-08:00

Stealing Beauty (Bernardo Bertolucci, 1996)

Rating: C-

Stealing Beauty marked Bernardo Bertolucci's return to Italy after a lengthy self-imposed exile, with mixed (mostly bad) results. The film centers around 19-year old American girl Lucy Harmon (Liv Tyler), who, inspired by a poem written by her recently deceased mother, travels to the beautiful hills of Italy in search of her biological father and to perhaps lose her virginity. The film is essentially about how the people of the villa, who are all decadent narcissists of sorts, react to Lucy (i.e. "beauty") -- and they all do so by manipulating and using her in their own way. For most it's simply sexual, though resident artist/sculptor Ian (Donal McCann) uses her for his art, and the dying/gay writer Alex (Jeremy Irons) uses her as not only a muse, but a reason to hang on for a little while longer. Bertolucci spends most of the time focusing on Lucy's personal journey, which is painful due to Lucy's lack of actual characteristics -- she is a blank slate, naive, boring, and filled with a superficial sense of wonder. Plus, she writes really bad poetry. What's interesting about this film is the large supporting cast of characters who are essentially a miniature representation of Europe (all sorts of countries being represented here) -- how their dreams have died and how they react in the face of beauty, which they no longer have a feeling for. Unfortunately, the film is so focused on Lucy and ends so abruptly that we hardly get time to explore what's really interesting: the lives of the other inhabitants and Lucy's uncertain and potentially heart-breaking future. With an excellent supporting cast that includes Sinead Cusack, Rachel Weisz, Joseph Fiennes, D.W. Moffett, and Jean Marais. With beautifully lush cinematography by Darius Khondji, a poorly used pop-soundtrack featuring Liz Phair, Cocteau Twins, Lori Carlson, and more. Written by Susan Minot based on a story by Betrolucci. 118 minutes.

This Blog Is Not a Cold Dead Place

2006-11-07T18:36:00.000-08:00

Though it might be for a while. Just as I felt I was gaining steam, I've become slammed with all sorts of other "obligations" that are going to be taking up almost all of my time for the next week or so. In the meantime let's hope the Chicago Bears sort out their problems and don't forget to take your daily vitamins.

And for your viewing enjoyment, a music video for (Lone) Wolf & Cub that I had the pleasure of being involved with.

Cheers.

10 Horror Films to Watch on Halloween

2006-10-30T20:35:00.000-08:00

Halloween is upon us, which seems like an appropriate time to make a list of sweet horror movies to watch. Of course here comes the inevitable disclaimer: it would be too narrowing and stupid to define horror specifically, so all horror sub-genres apply (slasher, comedy-horror, etc...but I won't include thrillers like "Silence of the Lambs" or "Cape Fear" because that just would get complicated). In addition, it would be boring for me (and you) to list horror or Halloween-related films that most everyone has seen or knows about, so I'll try and suggest things that aren't Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Halloween, Friday the 13th, and so on. So without further ado, here's a list of 10 films that range from hilarious to scary to gross to awesome.

10 HORROR FILMS TO WATCH ON HALLOWEEN

10. Tokyo Fist (Shinya Tsukamoto, 1995)

From Shinya Tsukamoto, the man who brought the world Eraserhead's weirder Japanese counter-part, Tetsuo: The Iron Man. What starts out as a love-triangle involving boxing turns into an over-the-top flesh ripping, metal-fusing, mutilatingly violent film. Great fun.

9. Near Dark (Kathryn Bigelow, 1987)

Here's a combined genre film you don't see everyday: the horror western. A gang of vampires parade around the southwest eating, killing, and driving around in an RV. Once you get past the melodramatic bullshit of the beginning, you get to meet a vicious gun-toting band of vampires that includes ancient leader Jesse, as played by notorious 80s hard-ass Lance Henriksen, as well as the boisterous face eating Severen, played brilliantly by a young Bill Paxton. With an obnoxious score by Tangerine Dream. 95 minutes.

8. Phantasm (Don Coscarelli, 1979)

Two brothers discover a mortician who has not only bridged the gap between Earth and the afterworld, but is in need of extracting the brains of his victims. Directed in a artfully stylized and economic manner by 23-year-old director Don Coscarelli, "Phantasm" has remained a cult-classic for the last 25 years. With Angus Scrimm as the now legendary and menacing "Tall Man". With a hauntingly excellent original score that is second best only to some of the Argento/Goblin soundtracks. 90 minutes.

7. Dead Alive (Peter Jackson, 1992)

Peter Jackson does his best Sam Raimi imitation, resulting in a hilarious gore-fest that out does both of the Evil Dead films. The scenario is simple: a dorky young man must defeat a ridiculous army of zombies in order to survive and save his romance with the girl he loves. It's got everything schlocky horror should - laughs, gross-outs, and a scene where the protagonist mows down around 30 zombies in his house with a lawnmower. 97 minutes.

6. Dawn of the Dead (Zach Snyder, 2004)

George Romero gets his face and film shoved up his own ass on this one. Commercial music video director Zach Snyder breathes life into the Romero bore-fest and makes one of the better zombie films in a long time. It's stylish and commercial, but doesn't hold back the violence and gore. Romero die-hards will complain that the "social commentary" has disappeared and so on...but who cares -- Ving Rhames totes a fucking shotgun the whole way through this one. Killing zombies in the mall has never been more entertaining. Includes a great scene where the group of protagonists snipe the heads off zombies in the mall parking lot while a lounge cover of Disturbed's "Down With the Sickness" plays. 100 minutes.

5. Nosferatu the Vampyre (Werner Herzog, 1979)

Werner Herzog updates the F.W. Murnau classic, which is basically a telling of Bram Stoker's "Dracula". Follows the original film closely, and opts for mood and creepiness over the obvious move towards gore. Props to Murnau and Max Schreck, but Herzog and Kinski take the cake on this one. 107 minutes.

4. Deep Red (Dario Argento, 1975)

Argento's finest achievement. A slasher mystery made with elegance and grace. Pianist Marc Daly (David Hemmings, who looks strangely like George Clooney) watches a murder of a psychic while hanging out with his drunken friend in the middle of town and begins his investigation. Argento constructs some of the most stylish and horrifyingly brutal deaths in this one, not limited to drowning a woman in scalding water and shoving a man's face into the corner of a table repeatedly, which is all done without getting sloppy or cheesy. The soundtrack by Italian prog-rockers Goblin is worth the price of admission alone. 98 minutes.

3. The Fly (David Cronenberg, 1986)

What's a horror list without Cronenberg? That's right, nothing, and if I wasn't being so democratic he'd have found his way on here more than once. "The Fly" is Cronenberg's most successful and popular film, and contains all of his classic elements -- intelligence, off-beat humor, science, gore, and repulsive body transformation. About a man who slowly and painfully turns into a giant fly. Jeff Goldblum's rambling, sympathetic, and funny performance as Seth Brundle is an unforgettable one. 97 minutes.

2. Re-Animator (Stuart Gordon, 1985)

Based on the story by H.P. Lovecraft, two medical students create a serum to revive the dead. Of course they didn't plan on the dead returning as blood-thirsty zombies. Jeffrey Combs' turns in a cult-worthy performance as the nerdy med-school lunatic Herbert West, and David Gale (who looks like John Kerry) shines as headless Dr. Hill With great gross outs and humor - and don't turn away when the decapitated Dr. Hill-zombie attempts to perform oral sex on a woman while holding his severed head in his bloody hands, it's genius. 86 minutes.

1. The Thing (John Carpenter, 1982)

John Carpenter's sci-fi horror masterpiece about a crew of Americans in Siberia who come across an ever-changing alien life-form that aims to destroy everything. The film is deliberately slow paced and uses this to create an uneasiness and sense of terror that is overwhelming (complimented by the Ennio Moriconne score that is nothing but a couple bass notes repeated). If there was ever the perfect argument against CGI, this is it -- Rob Bottin's animatronic special effects are unbelievably scary and disgusting. When shit gets out of control, this film has no peer. With Kurt Russell as the hard-ass helicopter pilot MacReady, Keith David as the hard-ass black guy Childs, Wilford Brimley as the hard-ass scientist, and chillingly cool cinematography by Dean Cundey. 108 minutes.

(Music to write to: Slayer - Reign in Blood. Obviously)

Altered States (1980)

2006-10-30T14:26:00.000-08:00

Altered States (Ken Russell, 1980)

Rating: C+

William Hurt made his impressive film debut as Professor Eddie Jessup in this wordy melodrama about a Harvard scientist who experiments with hallucinogenic drugs in an attempt to regress genetically in order to exist the beginning of life. Jessup becomes obsessed with experimenting with drugs and isolation chambers, destroys his marriage and family, becomes increasingly distant and out of his mind, and even travels to Mexico to trip out on mushrooms with some natives. It's a film about the search for and discovery of the creation and existence of life, which turns out to be the scariest thing in the world. The film boasts some incredible mind-fucking hallucination scenes, but the inbetween is a sluggish mess of pseudo-intellectual garbage, one dimensional supporting characters and acting which is comparable to bad British theater. Roger Ebert said in his review of the film, "I wouldn't advise trying to think about it very deeply." -- which is a huge problem, since it's a film that is begging to be taken seriously and make a profound statement (though if it's not Russell certainely did a poor job). In addition to the awesome psychadelic freak-out scenes it includes a terrific scene in which Hurt is genetically mutated into a primal ape-like being and runs to the zoo and eats a sheep. Directed with a wooden touch by BBC veteran Ken Russell, starring Blair Brown as the often naked and anthropologist wife, Bob Balaban as the quiet but loudly bearded assistant, and Charles Haid as the obnoxious and yelling "this isn't right" character who is terribly annoying. Adapted by Paddy Chayefsky ("Marty") from his novel of the same title. 102 minutes.

7-0, nine more to go

2006-10-30T00:22:00.000-08:00

I spent the majority of the weekend attending Halloween parties and drinking whiskey, which ended in glorious fashion at Soldier Field today as the Bears rolled over the 49ers with a 41-10 victory. Thus, I haven't posted anything. I've got a backed up queue of films to review however, so this week you (my faithful readers) can look forward to reviews of:

"Altered States"
"Masculine Feminine"
"Stealing Beauty"
"Kicking and Screaming"
"The Prestige"
"The Departed"

...and maybe more. Bulls season starts in two days, so get excited. Cheers.

(Music to write to: Yo La Tengo - I Can Hear The Heart Beating as One)

Calvaire (The Ordeal) (2006)

2006-10-27T13:20:00.000-07:00

Calvaire (The Ordeal) (Fabrice Du Welz, 2006)

Rating: B

Calvaire is the story of Marc Stevens (Laurent Lucas), a lounge singer who gets lost in the back woods of Belgium after his van breaks down. Shortly after he is taken in by Bartel (Jackie Berroyer), a creepy old man who has a house in the woods (and promises Marc help). But sooner than you know it Bartel has knocked out Stevens with a car battery, lit his car on fire, shaved off half his hair, put him in a dress, and started calling him "Gloria" despite insisting that "I'm Marc Stevens, not Gloria." Calvaire translated into English is "The Ordeal" -- and that's putting it lightly. It ought to be called "A Huge Fucking Strange and Bloody Ordeal". The film is Deliverance and Texas Chainsaw Massacre with an overdose of French surrealism and horror. And it doesn't stop with Stevens' run in with Bartel -- it seems that everyone in the woods is out of their fucking minds. Directed stylishly by Fabrice Du Welz, Calvaire is a strangely entertaining and bizzare film experience. It's hard to watch at times, but keeps you waiting in anticipation for what will come next. Though a bit too short and hollow to be a great film, Calvaire is one of the better horror films that has come out recently (which also includes fellow Frenchman Alexandre Aja's High Tension). Including an excellent scene where Stevens is strapped down in a chair crying while Bartel is cutting off his hair with an odd razor-type device. With Jean-Luc Couchard as Boris, a peasant searching for his cow, a creepy score by Vincent Cahay, cinematography by Benoit Debie. In French. 94 minutes. Color.

The film, which was made in 2004, was initially released in the US in August of 2006 and has been showing on IFC -- but is also showing this weekend at Facet's Multimedia, for those Chicagoans who are interested.

Man Bites Dog (1992)

2006-10-26T23:09:00.000-07:00

Man Bites Dog (C'est arrivé près de chez vous) (Remy Belveux, Andre Bonzel, and Benoit Poelvoorde, 1992)

Rating: A

Not for the faint of heart. 1992's Man Bites Dog is a fake documentary and was made by a trio of Belgian film students who wrote, shot, and star in the film. It centers around the exploits of Benoit, a cold-blooded, smirking, loud-mouthed serial killer, played wonderfully by Benoit Poelvoorde. His murders are shown through the documentary footage of the film crew composed of Remy (Remy Belveux), Andre (Andre Bonzel), and the always revolving sound guy. The filmmakers eventually become close with Benoit to the point of him acting as the film's producer, while Remy and Andre become willing participants in the horrific acts taking place. The contradictary nature of Benoit is the jewel of the film, as he continually defends his killing through practicality while complaining about the decline of culture every step of the way. I suppose it's called Man Bites Dog because Benoit's actions are pathetic and simple -- he only kills the helpless and undeserving (biting the dog, as opposed to the more standard dog biting man, duh). Man Bites Dog works as both a satire on filmmaking and a critique of media culture at the same time. It's a haunting, often brutal, and hysterical look at the life of a psychopath and two filmmakers. Made with the perfectly "dirty" touch and plenty of loud-as-fuck sound effects to go around. 95 minutes. B&W.

The Sheltering Sky (1990)

2006-10-26T20:43:00.000-07:00

The Sheltering Sky (Bernardo Bertolucci, 1990)

Rating: D+

Based on a supposedly great novel that I've never read, Bernardo Bertolucci's 1990 film The Sheltering Sky is the tale of three American intellectuals who travel to northern Africa in the wake of World War II. The group is composed of Porter (John Malkovich, who gives an excellent performance), Kit (Debra Winger), and Tunner (Cambell Scott). Porter and Kit are married, though their relationship is obviously strained. They are all proclaimed "artists" yet participate in nothing of the sort. They are narcissistic and, and engage in questionably slothful and activities, which isn't limited to Porter having sex with an African prostitute and Kit getting blacked out on champagne and fucking Tunner. The motivation for their trip isn't explicit, though it seems to be driven by their desire for exotic new experiences -- unfortunately all they find is the harsh reality of a world that doesn't care and is filled with bad food, thieves, flies, disease, death, and so on. Bertolucci attempts to portray their lost sense of reality in juxtaposition with the uncompromising African landscapes and culture, but Kit and Porter are so delusional and shallow that it is difficult to care at all. The film takes a drastic turn when Porter dies of typhoid nearly 2/3 of the way through the film, and Bertolucci uses the last 25-30 minutes to let Vittorio Storaro whip out and measure his cinematic dick with unecessary travel sequences and shots of stunning African sunsets. Sometimes great director's make bad films, and this is one of them. With Jill Bennet and Timothy Spall as the strange mother/son couple lurking around Africa in a Rolls Royce, Eric Vu-An as Belqassim, original score by Ryuichi Sakamoto, based on the novel by Paul Bowles. 138 minutes.

Welcome to the tite

2006-10-26T12:04:00.000-07:00

hi.