The Usual Review

'Black Swan': Darren Aronofsky's Fake Masterpiece

2011-11-16T07:13:00.001-08:00

“Watch the way she moves. Imprecise but … effortless. She’snot faking it.” This is how ballet director Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel) describes one of hisdancers in Darren Aronofsky’s 2010 film, "Black Swan." If only Leroy’s quotecould apply to Aronofsky. With incredible precision, Aronofsky has convincedmany critics and fans that "Black Swan" is a work of art. In reality, the film isa sorry and unoriginal horror exercise.

One of the more absurd bits of praise for "Black Swan" is thatit compares well to Roman Polanski’s "Repulsion" (for examples, see here and here). While both "Black Swan" and "Repulsion" concern a woman with a crumbling mind, and whileboth films have cinematography that effectively conveys anxiety, Aronofsky cheapenspsychology, as well as art, by having protagonist Nina Sayers kill herself inthe pursuit of her dream as a lead ballerina in Tchaikovsky’s "Swan Lake." Polanski,a survivor of the Holocaust, doesn’t confuse nightmares with the pursuit of dreams.

On a more obvious level, Aronofsky isn’t subtle or tasteful likePolanski. He doesn’t trust his audience’s intelligence like Polanski, who used aseemingly innocent family picture to suggest sexual abuse in "Repulsion." Butthat by itself doesn't allow one to understand the artistic distance betweenthe two directors. Because there is no subtlety in "Black Swan" (right down toits superficial connection to Tchaikovsky’s "Swan Lake"), we must look atsomething in the film that approaches Repulsion stylistically: the use ofvisual effects.

A comparison of visual effects reveals Aronofsky as a hackand Polanski as a genius. Aronofsky primarily uses visual effects to illustrateNina Sayers’ transformation into an artist, even though her transformation ispreposterous from a conceptual standpoint. People don't quickly become artiststhrough masturbation, drinking, and lesbianism (though I support all threeactivities in their proper places). Her transformation is also silly from avisual standpoint. We see Sayers morph into a black swan gradually with effectsthat recall David Cronenberg’s "The Fly." However, the similarity with Cronenbergends there. Aronofsky’s effects are only there as a road map for the audience –you know, in case we’re too dumb to “get it.” This condescending approachculminates when Sayers, on stage during her great final performance, becomes aglossy black swan. This effect has little power besides awkwardness. One getsnone of the dread that Cronenberg elicits with the final stage of JeffGoldblum’s transformation in "The Fly," and wonder isn't at play, either, giventhat the effect is obviously an effect. In this way, Aronofosky is no betterthan George Lucas or James Cameron. In contrast, Polanski primarily uses visualeffects in "Repulsion" to illustrate the mental deterioration of his protagonist.His effects show us what his protagonist thinks she is seeing: cracks in thewalls (multiplying over time) and hands reaching out of walls to fondle her. Polanskididn't have Aronofsky’s budget, but his simplicity is effective and doesn't assumeanything about the audience.

To be fair, Aronofsky attempts to show us what Sayers thinksshe is seeing in "Black Swan." But whereas Polanski is honest and clear about hisprotagonist’s hallucinations, Aronofsky reveals Sayers’ self-destruction in aclichéd plot twist. Neither you nor Sayers really knows what’s happening untilshe realizes she is killing herself rather than murdering someone for gain. Thissudden awareness is a cheap twist that appeared in "Fight Club," "Secret Window,""High Tension," and "The Machinist," to name a few recent examples. Ironically,Aronofsky was more straightforward with "The Fountain," a film with three interlockingstories.

If the ending of "Black Swan" is uninspired due to aconventional plot twist, the overall content of "Black Swan" is monotonous due toAronofsky’s previous film, "The Wrestler." The protagonists of both films areobsessive artists who end up dying for their art (some would say "The Wrestler’s"ending is ambiguous, but in reality it’s tasteful rather than vague). Thedifference between the two films lies in their levels of futility. At leastMickey Rourke’s Robin Ramzinski bonds with his fellow wrestlers and appears tohave fun wrestling. Natalie Portman’s Nina Sayers doesn't even seem to enjoyballet. She's been in the ballet company longer than anyone (according to hermother), yet she has virtually no friends or support. She is abused and hurt inalmost every situation. Her most pleasurable moment, the lesbianism scene, isrevealed to be a fantasy. It's almost as if Aronofsky takes the emotionalheaviness of "The Wrestler" and attempts to satirize it in the style of MartinScorsese’s "After Hours." Indeed, I found it hard not to laugh during some scenesbecause Sayers rarely catches a break.

Is exploitation what Aronofsky wanted? You get the sense hewanted to say something more profound, but Nina Sayers is no Jesus Christ orSantiago. Her sensationalized plight illustrates nothing meaningful about thehuman condition. Sayers has her heart set on the lead role in "Swan Lake," but unlike Tchaikovsky’s originalballet, Aronofsky’s version isn't ultimately concerned with eternal love;"Black Swan" is concerned with death by art. Is this the same director who warnedus about drug addiction in "Requiem for a Dream" and explored the intellectualand emotional sides of mourning in "The Fountain"? With "Black Swan," Aronofskydemonstrates that he has, if anything, become a more immature filmmaker.

All the same, "Black Swan" gives one the impression that Aronofskythinks of himself as a master. His reactionary words to critic Armond White - who dared to write a negative review of "Black Swan"! - atthe 2011 New York Film Critics Awards are more evidence of his sense ofentitlement (see here). Despite his pride,Aronofsky wants our approval, but he couldn’t wait for the real thing. When thescreen goes white in "Black Swan," you can still hear the applause of Sayers’audience as the words “Directed by Darren Aronofsky” appear.

Yep, he’s faking it.

'Paranormal Activity': The Anti-Cinema of Mockumentary Horror

2011-10-31T11:51:00.000-07:00

"The Blair Witch Project" wasn't the first mockumentary horror film, but it started a revolution. Numerous documentary style and found footage horror movies have been made since the 1999 blockbuster, including hits like "Paranormal Activity" and "Cloverfield." The goal of these films is to heighten the horror by making events seem more real.

Last week my girlfriend Lacey and I had different reactions to "Paranormal Activity," which has spawned two follow-ups since its 2007 release ("Paranormal Activity 3" recently broke box office records). She was engaged during the film and very frightened afterward, but I thought I had just watched a silly television show. It was my first mockumentary horror film experience (I had only watched scenes from "The Blair Witch Project").

Our reactions stemmed from different beliefs and experiences. Lacey believes in the supernatural due to unexplained experiences she had more than a decade ago, so she is the ideal audience for director/writer Oren Peli. This is even clearer when you consider that she can handle non-mockumentary ghost movies like "Poltergeist" and "Insidious." For her, the faux documentary brings her closer to the real terror she felt many years ago.

Unfortunately, I am not the ideal audience for Peli. I don't believe in the supernatural because I've never seen anything out of the ordinary (though for one year I lived in a house that was said to be haunted). But that by itself doesn't explain why I wasn't captivated by Peli's approach. For example, even though I wasn't scared during "Poltergeist" or its half-assed imitator "Insidious," they interested me. On the other hand, "Paranormal Activity" didn't have my attention until its deadly ending. The reason is simple: I believe in cinema, and "Paranormal Activity" is not cinema.

******

One year after the mockumentary horror film exploded onto the scene with "The Blair Witch Project," reality television made its stamp on American television with "Survivor" and "Big Brother." This one-two illustrates a significant cultural phenomenon. Since 1999, more and more people have wanted films and television to be more real. For them, it makes viewing more entertaining and exciting.

Although "mockumentary" is most often used to describe comedies that satirize culture - films like "This Is Spinal Tap" and "Bruno" - I find the term even more suitable for this new wave of horror movies and reality television. These things mock reality in the most technical sense. During the first season of the hit television series "Survivor," I remember people getting off on the real interactions between the contestants. Hell, I remember getting off on the second season in Australia myself, mainly because it had this real crazy guy who killed a pig and smeared its blood on his face. But this man probably wouldn't have killed a pig and made such a spectacle if not for the show. Of course, we must consider the possibility that the whole thing was staged. But fuck it, right? It was the presentation and inclusion of no-name people that made "Survivor" more real for viewers. (I say "more real" instead of "more realistic" because the former is associated with the belief or perception that something is actually happening. "Realism," on the other hand, refers to art that depicts subjects as empirical reflections of reality.)

This is not to say everyone who watches reality television takes it seriously as drama. From my own observations, many people are more likely to laugh at reality television's subjects. It's cheap entertainment. But the phenomenon started from the idea that, yes, we are watching something that is more real than a sitcom or drama. And for what it's worth, reality television is more real than any silly-ass sitcom.

But the mockumentary horror film is taken as seriously (if not more so) as it was when "The Blair Witch Project" made millions. Some people who scoff at "The Blair Witch Project" are affected by the "Paranormal Activity" films. I think the main reason for this is that "Paranormal Activity" allows one to see everything more clearly; "The Blair Witch Project" is notorious for its shaky camera. In this way, "The Blair Witch Project" is pure anti-cinema.

There's that word again. What does cinema mean? For me, it means the work of many wonderful filmmakers and the standards they set. D.W. Griffith, John Ford, Akira Kurosawa, Orson Welles, Alfred Hitchcock, Federico Fellini, Francios Truffaut, Steven Spielberg, and Werner Herzog (who knows a thing or two about blurring the line between feature film and documentary), to name a few. Cinema represents the idea that film can do anything and make us feel a wide range of emotions by appealing to our most immediate sense: sight. The term also sets what we know as film apart from any other medium (please note the following is an incomplete list): literature, music, painting, and, oh yeah, television.

Critic Pauline Kael once remarked about the detrimental influence of television on film in her essential piece of film criticism, "Trash, Art, and the Movies": "Television is a very noisy medium and viewers listen, while getting used to a poor quality of visual reproduction, to the absence of visual detail, to visual obviousness and overemphasis on simple compositions, and to atrociously simplified and distorted color systems. The shifting camera styles, the movement, and the fast cutting of a film like 'Finian’s Rainbow'—one of the better big productions—are like the 'visuals' of TV commercials, a disguise for static material, expressive of nothing so much as the need to keep you from getting bored and leaving. Men are now beginning their careers as directors by working on commercials—which, if one cares to speculate on it, may be almost a one-sentence résumé of the future of American motion pictures."

Kael's comments can be applied to "The Blair Witch Project." Indeed, the story and thematic content of the film are so bare that the producers needed a shaky camera to keep people's attention. "[A]bsence of visual detail" and "static material" is "The Blair Witch Project" in a nutshell. We could even speculate that the main reason people distiguish it from television is that it was marketed and released as a theatrical movie.

So where does that leave "Paranormal Activity"? Well, I have to give it credit to an extent. It did set a higher standard for mockumentary horror films. For one thing, it's not "very noisy" or lacking "visual detail" in a sense. The noises in "Paranormal Activity" are doled out slowly, and as mentioned before, the film doesn't suffer from a shaky camera. I can see why the film spellbinds people. Its camera, unlike the cameras in normal feature films, is an object in the purest sense. In many scenes, the camera doesn't show you anything but what's happening in a bedroom while a couple sleeps (or tries to sleep), and we know it's not going to move unless something we're seeing tampers with it. The film gives the illusion that we're forced to watch malevolent forces unfold in real time. Whereas in a traditional horror movie, the camera is magic, separate from the scene - we trust the director to show us what we need to see.

However, I wasn't spellbound by the mockumentary approach. "Paranormal Activity" has an unoriginal, paper-thin story with characters who don't say or do anything interesting. The film didn't seem to comment on anything culturally relevant (though Slate critic Dana Stevens theorized it was a metaphor for the credit crisis - interesting, but I disagree). The editing has no rhythm; the film is shot from an exceptionally normal perspective for the illusion of realness, with choppiness to boot. But the biggest problem was how the film killed suspense. During the bedroom scenes, you can see the camera's clock in the low right-hand corner. The "scene" fast-forwards as the clock numbers roll. The scene resumes when the clock stops rolling, letting you know when to expect ghostly activity. The technique is a converse of the instant replay, which drove the film's relationship to television even further home for me.

******

Last night Lacey and I watched "Paranormal Activity 2." Admittedly, it held my attention more than the first because it had more action, characters, and camera perspectives (the father sets up security cameras in the house), but I was struck by the fact that it had a different director. Peli is replaced by Tod Williams, but you can't tell a difference in directorial style. This uniformness reminded me of how television shows change directors while retaining the same stylistic elements. Mockumentary horror films appeal to individual beliefs and experiences while rejecting the individuality of cinema as a personal artform.

I could discuss the numerous cinematic limitations of "Paranormal Activity" and its kind for hours, but the reality is that the horror film and audience expectations have changed. I just hold to the hope that if this new wave of horror movies continues to take over, we, as a filmmaking and filmgoing culture, will not forget the past - that we will learn about it and from it.

'Ironclad' starts strong but becomes tedious, hypocritical

2011-10-25T12:53:00.000-07:00

In a way, it's impressive “Ironclad” (2011) is mediocre instead of plain shitty. The film had an almost completely different cast before financing got tricky, and there are 18 executive producers in its credits. So when the squire Guy says "We held" after a tough victory, you can imagine the creative team saying the same thing.

The story of “Ironclad's” production is inspiring, but director/writer Jonathan English only makes a halfway decent historical action film. The plot concerns a Templar knight, Thomas Marshal (James Purefoy), who helps lead an effort to stop King John (an entertaining Paul Giamatti) from killing the barons who forced him to sign the Magna Carta. Marshal and Baron William de Albany (the great Brian Cox) form a group similar to that of Akira Kurosawa's "Seven Samurai" and fortify Rochester Castle, King John's main target. Meanwhile, Lady Isabel (Kate Mara) is unsatisfied with her husband, the constable of Rochester. The last part sticks out because it's a pointless subplot that destroys the morality of the film.

English directs a good film for an hour or so. He emphasizes action, but the bits of dialogue are often meaningful. The best parts involve Marshal and the squire Guy. During one exchange, Marshal tells Guy it is not noble to kill. Guy asks, "Not even when it's done for freedom?" Marshal replies, "Not even when it is done for God." This line shows honor that wasn't present in Mel Gibson's “Braveheart.” Later, when Guy broods after his first kill, Marshal consoles him: "Faith, Guy. Only the weak believe that what they do in battle is who they are as men." This line counters the cynicism in Clint Eastwood's “Unforgiven,” in which William Munny doesn't share anything as insightful with the Schofield Kid.

The action in “Ironclad” is interesting at first. Although the setting and parts of the battles recall Peter Jackson’s “The Two Towers,” English’s visual style is more intense and visceral. The weapons in “Ironclad” don’t neatly slice and chop flesh and bone. One of the seven heroes, Jedediah Coteral, even uses a severed arm as a weapon. You almost find yourself believing so few men can defend Rochester Castle. That is, until the portcullis is raised under the heroes' noses and everything goes to shit. Then you have a select few survivors doing the improbable. The main problem is not believability, however. The last action scenes simply do not raise your pulse like those in Takashi Miike's “13 Assassins,” John Woo's “The Killer,” or Sam Peckinpah's “The Wild Bunch.” The outcome is predictable, but the greater flaw is that “Ironclad” offers nothing noteworthy after King John sets a bunch of pigs on fire to take out the castle's keep. Shouldn't our heroes do something as electrifying?

English compromises the morality he sets up in “Ironclad.” Marshal makes a good hero of few words, but his honor is lost when he gives into the advances of Lady Isabel (a name very close to Jezebel, the infamous woman in The Bible). Marshal resists Isabel several times because he has taken a sacred vow not to have sex. Isabel eventually convinces him he should not deny his desires. Nevermind that she's married. Nevermind that the heroes of the movie are fighting because King John failed to live up to his word. The sad thing is Purefoy and Mara have chemistry and lose it after their characters have sex (the funny thing is not even an adolescent would defend the sex – no tits!). English wastes an opportunity to illustrate the honor of Marshal and instead suggests vows aren't important, that one should do whatever one wants, just like King John, Marshal, and Isabel. Not to mention Isabel has no characterization other than her tingling vagina. But at least it’s understandable when Marshal fucks Isabel. In an earlier scene, he leaves the castle to get food … without telling anyone. Marshal says all the right things to Guy, but his decisions outside of battle are questionable. “Ironclad” pretends this moral discrepancy doesn’t exist.

English should be commended for seeing his film through production hell, but if he wants to be successful in crafting action art, he must come up with something more heroic than the second half of “Ironclad.” Even though the good guys win, their victory is hollow.

Genre and Politics in '13 Assassins'

2011-06-06T14:20:00.000-07:00

It’s rather cool that “13 Assassins” is reminiscent of both “Seven Samurai” and “The Wild Bunch,” further reinforcing the connection between the samurai and western. Moral codes. Honor. Sentimentality. There’s a scene in “13 Assassins” of samurai being forced away by the sight of guns – a historical point with much to say about our postmodern culture that was created by numerous technological advances. Out with the old, in with the new. Not only does the scene invoke Kurosawa and Peckinpah, but it trumps the argument that the action film can’t be for thinkers.

But what makes “13 Assassins” electrifying is the stamp of Takashi Miike, an incredibly prolific director (about 40 movies since 2000!) who ignores the line between the highbrow and lowbrow. For the most part, “13 Assassins” is impressive from a technical standpoint, but Miike throws in CGI bulls on fire, an effect that really looks like shit. If I had seen such a thing in any other historical epic, you would likely be reading a mini-rant now. But in this case I remember that Miike has directed many direct-to-video productions. His lack of taste, if anything, has made the world of film more interesting and funny.

I don’t want to mislead you, though. “13 Assassins” is one of Miike’s most accessible films. The humor is sharp rather than demented. While the film is very violent, the level of violence is comparable to movies like “Saving Private Ryan.” As in “Seven Samurai,” the good guys are introduced one by one; this formula, for whatever reason, is always fun.

As agreeable as the film is to general audiences, I couldn’t help but notice subversive elements. With films like “Ichi the Killer” and “Izo,” Miike is as satirical as he is fond of genre. In “13 Assassins,” the samurai poses are very obvious (and thus awesome), but the coolness is countered by some of the deaths that follow. I found myself relishing the genre glory but losing the high moments later. Early on, images of an amputated victim approach the territory of “Audition,” Miike’s horror masterpiece.

In interviews Miike has deflected the idea that his work has social commentary. Nonetheless, “13 Assassins” touches on a few political morals. For example, the major question is whether a samurai should stay loyal to his master if the latter is corrupt and murderous. Obviously, the 13 assassins say no, and we root for them. But what are we doing in our actual lives? Are we blindly following an inhumane Military Industrial Complex and/or leader, or is our political reality not so bleak?

In “13 Assassins,” a bandit/hunter named Kiga is found in a cage and freed. Although he is of samurai lineage, he rejects samurai tradition (i.e., he fights with sticks and stones and doesn't appear to be someone willing to commit ritual suicide). He joins the cause as the thirteenth assassin but is flippant about the carnage that ensues. In a way, Kiga represents postmodern culture. Rather by direct or indirect participation, we make up a political entity that fights other political entities, but many of us are often disconnected from the traditions and sacrifices involved (even as voters). But like Kiga, we find meaning in our personal lives. But would we appreciate life more from a different perspective? Lord Naritsugu, the antagonist of the film, provides an answer with his rumination on war: “With death comes gratitude for life.” The veterans I know might agree.

'The Fighter,' My Favorite Film of 2010

2011-01-06T11:43:00.001-08:00

When I saw the advertisement for "The Fighter" a few months ago, all I could think was that director David O. Russell ("Three Kings") was wasting his talent on a pretentious and sentimental boxing film for the all-important American dollar.

Instead, what we have here might be the most honest film of 2010. You're going to hear "Here I Go Again" by Whitesnake more than once. You're going to see homely women that must make the elite Hollywood crowd wince. Hell, you're going to see and hear the two boxers and brothers this film is about, Mickey Ward and Dicky Eklund, right as the end credits roll. The hilarity and pain of real life are plastered all over this movie - unlike "Cinderella Man," which makes the Great Depression seem like a fight anyone could have won.

One of the simplest pleasures I've had in a theater is watching Christian Bale play a crack addict. Bale excels in roles in which he can't get outside of himself (e.g., "American Psycho" and "The Machinist"). In this respect, the pathetic energy of Bale's Eklund is natural. But reality catches up with him in the form of Melissa Leo, who plays Eklund's aggressive mother. Russell prevents Bale from chewing scenery by finally getting him to connect with other actors, something that only Steven Spielberg had achieved, and that was more than 20 years ago when Bale was a child in 1987's underrated "Empire of the Sun."

But really, this film has a fuckload of effective performances. I already mentioned Leo, whose acting in the film's domestic disputes brought to mind experiences from my own life (that's powerful shit, my friends). Amy Adams drops her innocence to play one of the strongest women I've seen on the screen in a while, and what's particularly inspiring is that Adams makes it clear that this strength comes from bad decisions her character must live with; there is no fake, inherently badass quality to speak of. The father, played by Jack McGee, is overpowered by the women and boxers around him, but one winds up empathizing with him as a steady figure rather than dismissing him as a pussy.

In the middle of these performances is subtle Mark Wahlberg. Yes, that's right, he's fucking subtle. He's the subtlest boxer I've watched in a film, and you need to see that. For example, after winning his first comeback match, Wahlberg isn't able to enjoy the moment because of the conflicting personalities around him, and you don't get that with a line or even a shrug, just his eyes.

At this point I could be a typical reviewer and point out that this film isn't about the fighting but the characters. But that would be bullshit. The fighting in any boxing movie is very important. Compare "Rocky" and "Raging Bull." Their stories and fights are different. Rocky has long, unrealistic fights to show us how much the underdog can overcome, and Raging Bull has short, nasty fights to accentuate the brutality of the protagonist and sport. "The Fighter" doesn't take either route. The women who parade the signs make the scene as alive as anything, as do the fools in the audience. The fights aren't spectacular or painful to watch; they simply involve people punching each other. This is the most down-to-earth boxing since "Diggstown."

I believe Russell has directed his greatest work, a decidedly humorous masterpiece of sports cinema, and it would be a shame if one avoided it because of the trailer's phony inspirational vibe. I almost did, and I would have missed my favorite film of 2010.

A Review of Christopher Nolan's Filmography or: How I Managed to Offend Some of His Fans

2010-09-13T12:34:00.000-07:00

This entry reviews Nolan's filmography. After reading this entry, if you feel like I have said something dreadfully wrong and you are driven to dislike me to any extent, congratulations. You are a Batman Fan. But if you read this entry and disagree or perhaps find yourself nodding in agreement, you are a Normal Human Being. If you think Nolan is a shitty director, you might be a Sophisticated Filmgoer. Pat yourself on the back.

(Note: If one were to say I am biased against Batman and superheroes, I would accuse one of the opposite. There are many, many Batman and superhero stories - whether we’re talking film, television, or comic books - that I prefer over “Batman Begins” and “The Dark Knight.”)

Following (1998)

I had watched every Nolan film with the exception of his debut up until two weeks ago. Perhaps surprisingly, “Following” features some of Nolan’s best direction. Its black-and-white imagery, obscure cast, and unpretentious dialogue give the film a naturalism that I prefer to Nolan’s phony realism in “Batman Begins” and “The Dark Knight” (interestingly, you can see the Batman emblem on a door in “Following”). Initially, I was bugged by the voice-over at the beginning of the film, but this exposition is later tied into a sequence that effectively brings the story to its climax. As in “Memento,” Nolan employs a nontraditional time frame for “Following,” but in contrast to “Memento,” the time frame doesn’t resemble a gimmick. That is, Nolan isn’t simply telling the main story backward.

Memento (2000)

That one can easily follow “Memento” is evidence of Nolan’s talent as a storyteller. As the main story is told in reverse, black-and-white scenes - that move forward as a traditional story would - are interjected to illuminate the mental condition and purpose of Guy Pierce’s protagonist. When the two series of events meet, the viewer may solve the mystery (or maybe not). Much like the characters in “Following,” the players in “Memento” have dubious motives, establishing moral ambiguity as a consistent theme of Nolan’s work. My favorite scene is when Pierce cannot remember whether he is chasing or running away from someone (Nolan’s wit takes a serious blow after “Memento”). What strikes me the most about the protagonist is not his rare disease that prevents new memories but his psychological need for resolution - a need that is common among humankind and the basis for the mystery genre itself.

Insomnia (2002)

“Insomnia” features a recent Al Pacino performance that doesn’t amount to self-parody. Maybe this showcases Nolan’s potential as a filmmaker more than anything. But I digress. Nolan sets up another case of moral ambiguity with the protagonist, but he makes it awfully damn clear that Robin Williams’ character is a shit-eating piece of shit (I stole this clever line from the back of the DVD case). What worries Pacino is that he starts to realize that he might also be a shit-eating piece of shit, and to make matters worse, he’s in fucking Alaska during perpetual daylight. Thus, the man gets no rest. I dig this lesser work from Nolan, but I have to excuse Hillary Swank’s horrible go-getter role and the firefight climax that should have been saved for a dumb action movie. Finally, one should note Nolan adopts the linear narrative starting with this film.

Batman Begins (2005)

And here, Nolan throws moral ambiguity out the window (but thankfully doesn’t abandon it in his career). We can forgive him for this, however, because Liam Neeson plays the villain! Also, Cillian Murphy! (When speaking of The Villain in Batman films, the word “also” is a must.) Anyway, this movie isn’t realistic (any scene involving the redneck toy Tumbler is incredibly fucking stupid, for example), but Nolan’s main concern is showing us how Batman began, thereby making him less myth and more man (or rather, more Christian Bale-ish). I can appreciate that. What I cannot appreciate is how retarded some of the dialogue is: “It's not who I am underneath, but what I do that defines me.” Well, Jeezus Christus, just slap me with your balls while you’re at it. Lastly, Rachel Dawes (played by Katie Holmes) gives Nolan a two-movie streak of shitty female characters, the director seemingly forgetting what he accomplished with “Following” and “Memento.”

The Prestige (2006)

Just as one can see Nolan gradually define morality with “Insomnia” and “Batman Begins,” one can see him return to the morally gray territory of “Following” and “Memento” in “The Prestige.” Neither magician in this film would be allowed in the church choir, which makes the conflict all the more decadent (and enjoyable). Nolan brilliantly creates a parallel to this conflict with a Thomas Edison vs. Nikola Tesla subplot (and getting David Bowie to play Tesla is terrific casting), granting the film an evident, but secondary, science fiction element. I would mark “The Prestige” as Nolan’s first step toward science fiction, even though others give that distinction to “Memento.” One should keep in mind that “Memento,” unlike the subplot in “The Prestige,” is primarily concerned with answers, not the backbone of quality science fiction: questions. The only major problem with “The Prestige” is the ending, a parlor trick (oh! he has a twin!) that cheapens the aforementioned conflict.

The Dark Knight (2008)

First, let me assure everyone of one thing: I do not consider “The Dark Knight” Nolan’s weakest film because it is his most successful film. I believe “The Godfather,” “Jaws,” and “Blazing Saddles” are three of the greatest films in history and the best work from their respective directors. Furthermore, in case anyone still has questions on the matter, I was blown away by “The Dark Knight” after I saw it in a theater. However, I tailored my opinion after repeated viewings and more thought.

“The Dark Knight” is Nolan’s weakest film because it is, quite frankly, full of shit (i.e., it does not accomplish what it thinks it does). Nolan pretends this film is more believable than other Batman vs. Joker stories, but it isn’t. The Joker is still able to pull off impossible scheme after impossible scheme, and Batman is still the only one who can stop him. Do I have a problem with either of these things by themselves? Of course not. However, Nolan’s pretense on the matter is absurd. And if only that were the single major flaw of the film.

Replacing Katie Holmes with Maggie Gyllenhaal doesn’t change the fact that Rachel Dawes is a boring character who serves as little more than a piece of meat for the predominantly male cast.

Remember the silly line I quoted from “Batman Begins”? “The Dark Knight” is replete with this obvious Flashcard Writing. The worst offense is Commissioner Gordon’s monologue explaining the entire fucking movie, interpretative thought be damned.

Some people say moral ambiguity is at play in “The Dark Knight,” and Nolan undoubtedly shares this view, but I don’t buy it. The film is no more morally ambiguous than Burton’s two Batman films, in which the protagonist breaks the law however he sees fit to fight criminals. In fact, I would argue that Burton’s first film has more moral ambiguity insofar as Batman is directly responsible for creating the Joker via dropping Jack Napier into a chemical vat. In “The Dark Knight,” the Joker is not the effect of Batman’s existence (unless you want to argue that Nolan’s Joker wasn’t abused as a child). As Alfred Pennyworth says, “Some men just want to watch the world burn.” Yeah, that’s another Glaring Flashcard for the stupid audience (which includes me and you, by the way), but it illustrates that Batman has a noble purpose and that the Joker is wrong.

“The Dark Knight” is not a bad movie, and it features one of the best performances of the 2000s (I don’t even have to say the actor’s name), but it is not a masterpiece. Also, watch “Batman: The Brave and the Bold.” OK, I’m done.

Inception (2010)

“Inception” is Nolan’s first full-fledged attempt at science fiction, and while I wouldn’t call it a knockout punch (come to think of it, I wouldn’t call any movie a knockout punch), it is a thinking person’s theme park ride. Moral ambiguity is back again. The idea of sneaking around in someone’s dream is fucked up, no matter the purpose. As far as the time frame is concerned, Nolan’s narrative is still linear, but the dream-within-a-dream-within-a-dream structure is far from a standard experience. You won’t know what I’m talking about until you see it, but when the van finally hits the water, the effect is orgasmic. (So be careful whom you sit by.) Alright, alright, so most of the characters in this film are about as flimsy as paper, but Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s coolness makes up for that shortcoming. Now, about the ending: it’s not complicated, and there’s no reason for Multiple Interpretations. Nolan is simply pointing out that reality and dreams have meaningful interplay, a theme explored previously by the late Satoshi Kon’s “Paprika.” In other words, it doesn’t matter whether the last scene is a dream or not. The conflict has been resolved in the protagonist’s mind.

Acknowledgements. Then I'll blather about 'Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker.'

2010-06-15T06:57:00.000-07:00

Well, shit, it's been more than two months since my last entry that concluded Another Top 50 Films of the 2000s List. I told several people--hopefully not more than several--that I would write a follow-up to the list. You know, mention some movies that didn't make the list (e.g., no Clint Eastwood films!) and thank people and so on. I'll just stick to the thanking.

I extend a hearty thank-you to everyone who read the list (including friends at Facebook, Comic Book Resources, and Anime Forums), to those who commented on the entries, and to those who encouraged me to continue writing (my girlfriend is certainly part of this long list). Special thanks go to Ray R. from CBR (I quoted him here) as well as other members of that forums site. Special thanks also go to IcareAlot from A4 (because I did steal a line from him for the "Save the Green Planet" review) as well as other members of that forums site. If I do another list, I hope it's as rewarding as this one.

Alright, I'm done being a nice guy. Now I am going to give a negative review to a direct-to-video film, "Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker." Why should anyone read or write this shit? We have to start somewhere.

But seriously, "Mask of the Phantasm" is a very good movie. Perhaps the best Batman film yet. It also didn't make back its small budget during its theatrical run. Ouch! That doesn't give me dollar signs to use as a fucking crutch while I pontificate about how "Mask of the Phantasm" is better than every comic book movie--and certainly most movies ever made.

I have determined that the preceding paragraph is the product of poor transitional thought and anger, but the point I wanted to make is that perhaps "Return of the Joker" could have been very good, just like "Mask of the Phantasm." Paul Dini is a solid writer, and "Batman Beyond" refers to a new Batman who uses futuristic technology and hangs out with an older, grumpy Bruce Wayne ... fair concept. Hell, it even sounds fun. Here's the problem: "Return of the Joker" should be fun, but it's not.

But could we call "Mask of the Phantasm" fun? It was serious most of the time, but Joker attacking someone with bologna? Yeah, that's worth a laugh.

"Return of the Joker" has nothing to laugh about. That's because--and yes, I'm about to spoil this no-theatrical-release mofo--the Joker in this film is actually Tim Drake. The guy who used to be Robin. The really young guy. In the film, we get a dark flashback involving Batman, Drake, Batgirl, the Joker, Harley Quinn, torture, death, and insanity ... maybe I could let you fill in the blanks. It shouldn't be too hard. Just think of an obvious way to make the young Robin fucked up. Like, Robin gets tortured by the Joker and Harley Quinn, but Batman and Batgirl come to the rescue, and Joker and Harley Quinn die, but Batman did not kill them, thus making their deaths Rightful Punishment, and Drake, though rescued, is insane.

So fuck it, that's all I have to say about the story. I can't enjoy this morbid nonsense. I'm just wondering why this movie contains the phrase "Batman Beyond." After all, Joker doing fucked up shit to people and Batman dealing with the consequences are not beyond my expectations.

And then a thought comes, and none of this matters! Ding, ding, ding! It's a nearly 10-year-old straight-to-video Batman film! Jeezus, what was I thinking?

Another Top 50 Films of the 2000s List: 5-1.

2010-03-29T13:51:00.000-07:00

I apologize for not writing this sooner.

Twenty days. Why did the final five take that long to write? The most obvious explanation is I tortured myself on the ordering. About a week ago, any of these five films could have been No. 1 in my mind.

But that is just a partial explanation for this lateness. My personal life has been tumultuous this month. That’s not to say I don’t have a lot to be thankful for. But let’s say my brain has been rather weak. Only now do I consider my wits restored.

No. 5 - “Inland Empire” (2006)

When you get down to it, director/writer David Lynch asks a lot from you with his longest and weirdest movie. The good news is that “Inland Empire” doesn’t require you to watch it in one sitting. Or at least, that’s been the case for me.

The following thought is probably going to doom my reputation as a Serious Commentator, but I feel I have a very odd relationship with “Inland Empire.” As I implied, I’m fine with watching this movie in multiple sittings, and the main reason for this sentiment isn’t the 179-minute running time. Simply put, “Inland Empire” can overload you mentally and emotionally if you accept Lynch’s rejection of a narrative rulebook.

Ultimately, the film is a visceral mystery. Now, now, what the fuck does that mean? As I follow Laura Dern’s confused protagonist through nightmarish cul-de-sacs, I find myself just as clueless and stupefied as she is. Watching “Inland Empire,” you will sometimes have trouble determining whether there is more than one mystery, and if you decide there are multiple mysteries, do you need multiple answers, or does one solution solve the entire puzzle? If the previous sentence leads you nowhere, that is exactly how you feel during the majority of “Inland Empire”—in short, you are never removed from the fear and anxiety of Dern’s character.

And a quick word about Dern. She gives an amazing performance. Somehow, she is able to satisfy Lynch’s craziest wishes and translate her character into a woman we can understand. It’s a daring role that is often difficult to define but always impressive. I was particularly moved by the scenes in which Dern describes the violence she enacted on men. Her delivery during these scenes makes me squirm and guffaw.

There is something I feel I should address: the absence of “Mulholland Dr.” from this list. Frankly, I have no idea why anyone would prefer that film to “Inland Empire,” as the latter features far better acting, writing, and directing. “Mulholland Dr.” is a contrived and humorless combination of ideas. “Inland Empire,” on the other hand, is a fully realized film that Lynch wittily sums up for us: “A Woman In Trouble.”

So yeah, you’re goddamn right I’ll take a challenging and funny movie over a dull, meaningless phenomenon.

No. 4 - “Inglourious Basterds” (2009)

I have to do two things with this entry. First, I have to justify why this film made my list. Second, I have to explain why and how this film deconstructs World War II pictures. I am addressing the second point because some people have inaccurately suggested that “Inglourious Basterds” is sort of a mindless but fun revenge fantasy. In reality, that conclusion is oversimplification.

But yes, it is irrevocable that the film is a lot of fun. Director/writer Quentin Tarantino is all about having a good time at the movies, often through homage. As Tarantino intended, “Inglourious Basterds” is “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly” in a World War II setting, with Shoshanna being The Good, Hans Landa being The Bad, and Aldo Raine being The Ugly. This fact, among other things such as faulty subtitles and obtrusive segments narrated by Samuel L. Jackson, proves that we are supposed to have a blast with the story.

At the same time, this movie has a surprising amount of substance from a film history standpoint. Had any WWII movie rejected historical accuracy to this extent? No, they never dared to. At best, WWII films strived for historical accuracy and/or relied on action sequences. “Inglourious Basterds” clearly dismisses both trends. This conclusion is evident in Tarantino’s decisions as a writer and director. For example, why spit on historical accuracy in one monumental scene but pay such careful attention to language throughout the film? While these decisions may seem contradictory at first, they work together to defy convention and audience expectations. Most importantly, Tarantino wants us to laugh, particularly when it’s inappropriate to do so.

And if you still don’t think “Inglourious Basterds” deconstructs WWII films, take this challenge. Watch both “The Dirty Dozen” and “Schindler’s List” and explain how “Inglourious Basterds” champions the goals of these films. I predict you will have trouble finishing such an analysis since “Inglourious Basterds” resembles a critique of these films far more than it resembles, well, them.

Some have called “Inglourious Basterds” disrespectful. Others say you cannot justify its running time (whereas I value the film’s Hitchcockian suspense). But these complaints seem rather minute when one considers that film has the power to kill Hitler and make our mouths water as whipped cream is applied to a strudel. Our reactions to “Inglourious Basterds” typify the concept of being alive. Insert a rant about what art should do here.

No. 3 - “No Country For Old Men” (2007)

Out of these top five films, “No Country For Old Men” has the tightest plot. To use an appropriate cliché, the film is like clockwork. A look at the practical side of the directing/writing team of Joel and Ethan Coen is elucidating. On the set of a Coen brothers film, the tone is relatively relaxed. If you ask Joel what to do and then go to Ethan, you will get the same answer. This confident attention to detail is evident in all their films, but it is most apparent in “No Country For Old Men.” Why? Because their script closely follows a Cormac McCarthy book that assuredly presents description after description in concise sentences.

The Coens are genre whores, too. Genre-wise, the essence of “No Country For Old Men” is encapsulated in the scene where Tommy Lee Jones’ Sheriff Bell opens a hotel room door, his cowboy silhouette representing the mixture of the film noir and western genres. But the movie also contains a fair bit of action (more than any other film by the Coens), and Anton Chigurh is like a horror movie villain in that he always moves forward for another kill. Of course, no Coen brothers film would be complete without comedy, as the darker variety can be found in "No Country For Old Men."

Damn, two paragraphs in and I’m still sucking off the Coens as a general phenomenon. But isn’t that enough? “No Country For Old Men” is the epitome of something we’re familiar with as filmgoers. This film will never be remembered as a great thing by itself. A substantial chunk of its appeal is that it showcases the Coens in top form …

No, that’s not everything. The story is fucking great and very much resembles what McCarthy wrote in his book, which demonstrates the Coens’ eye for what can work in film rather than the philosophy that all adaptations should be faithful. But beyond the theme of an old man not keeping up with the times, there is the face of Chigurh, portrayed by Javier Bardem. Chigurh’s face is symbolic of nothing certain. We can’t tell where he’s from. We don’t know what he’s thinking. We just know that destiny follows him.

Funny. A strange man with a silly haircut is a great visual definition of the universe.

No. 2 - “There Will Be Blood” (2007)

An underrated aspect of “There Will Be Blood” is its sense of humor. The final scene is a self-referential joke from director/writer P.T. Anderson, who has a history of unusual endings (just watch “Boogie Nights” and “Magnolia”). Comparisons to “Citizen Kane” and “The Treasure of the Sierra Madre” are apt, but it's a sinister final wink that makes “There Will Be Blood” stand out, and Stanley Kubrick has the patent on that. And like Kubrick’s work, “There Will Be Blood” has a soundtrack that takes on a life of its own while playing off the visuals. (The soundtrack is Johnny Greenwood's greatest accomplishment. Yes, better than the drivel with Radiohead. As a recovering admirer of progressive rock, I interject unnecessary insults about its followers, even when I like them.)

Notwithstanding that Anderson was looking to Kubrick for guidance, “There Will Be Blood” is a distinct creation. Anderson’s dialogue, for example, is strange in how it can fit a story that takes place in the early 1900s but still evoke contemporary culture. Thankfully, even if you don’t listen to OutKast, “brother from another mother” is funny enough as a phrase to work without the reference.

There's also this unknown actor called Daniel Day-Lewis who plays the lead role, Daniel Plainview. His performance is as masterful as any in film history. The voice, physicality, and personality of Plainview are often ridiculously blunt. During the scene in which Plainview performs his first execution, Day-Lewis no longer looks human, contorting his face into an uncomfortable ugliness. Yet in other scenes, I could only laugh at how evil he is, his threats delivered as naturally as we would say “Hello” to a friend.

“There Will Be Blood” works on more than one level and achieves every lofty goal of Anderson. That's the main point here. It's a fantastic character study, a unique comedy, a brutal commentary on American capitalism, and a technical achievement that is scary in its audaciousness. When oil catches fire, the film is an eerie hell and every aspect of its design a brilliant flame nonetheless inseparable from the other in the demonic mise-en-scène.

No. 1 - “Grizzly Man” (2005)

Although “Grizzly Man” is directed by Werner Herzog, it is the work of two great filmmakers: Herzog and the late Timothy Treadwell, who lived with grizzly bears for 13 summers and videotaped more than 100 hours of his work. Indeed, a notable aspect of “Grizzly Man” is Herzog’s acknowledgement of some of the wondrous shots Treadwell set up in the wilderness, many of them unintentionally beautiful.

And yeah, I hope no one has a problem with a documentary being the No. 1 film of the 2000s. I certainly don’t, especially when it involves Herzog, who has blurred the line between feature film and documentary for decades. “Grizzly Man” is as much of a character study, with Herzog making assumptions like any good storyteller, as it is a biography. But I would argue the film goes even further than that. During several scenes, I find myself as fascinated with the mentality of Herzog. When Treadwell remarks on the general beauty of nature, Herzog reveals that he disagrees with Treadwell’s assessment. When a close friend of Treadwell wonders what to do with an audio recording of Treadwell’s death, Herzog insists that she must never listen to the tape and destroy it. Of course, these moments involving Herzog do not outnumber those that deal with Treadwell’s character, but they are just as moving and human.

This is not to say that Herzog relies on his own perception to interpret the actions of Treadwell. Herzog’s various interviewees range from people who loved Treadwell for everything he was to those who questioned or condemned his quest to save the bears. After you finish this film, you are not left with a one-dimensional portrait of the character (unlike the incredibly overrated 2000s documentary, “Man On Wire”). Treadwell is foolish and inspired, courageous and outrageous, tragic and detestable, funny and depraved.

I am still amazed at the sheer watchability of “Grizzly Man.” The foundation of the film is built on information, but the story is sold with emotion. This paradox is perhaps the reason I consider Herzog the greatest narrator in film history. His calm voice—an incredible sound, as German as it is English—convicts me to look for truth as my heart would have it.

Another Top 50 Films of the 2000s List: 10-6.

2010-03-09T13:34:00.000-08:00

No. 10 - “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” (2004)

“Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” works as romantic comedy and science fiction. I can’t say that about any other film I’ve seen. But such is the quality of Charlie Kaufman’s writing, which serves as a hole puncher to allow us to peek into the human soul …

Goddamn! I gotta quit that kind of talk. Let’s just say Kaufman knows the awkward conversations that precede and follow relationships. He also knows good science fiction is built around questions, not maxims and computer-generated spaceships that bore the shit out of me. Sure, maybe the answer to “Should we fuck with our memories to reduce heartbreak?” is simple, but it’s fascinating seeing how the idea plays out.

I have to admit, for a while I was sucking off Kaufman so much that I somewhat dismissed Michel Gondry’s role as director. I mean, is it a coincidence that the Kaufman-scripted “Adaptation,” “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,” and “Synecdoche, New York” remind me of each other visually, despite having different directors? No. But I’ll put money down saying Gondry’s film has the best pacing out of the bunch.

(As a side note, what I like so much about the memory-tampering sequences is how they aren’t just visually engaging—when one watches the destruction of a life via memory swipe, it is irksome. Maybe James Cameron could learn something here.)

Finally, the cast is the main reason “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” is a pleasure to watch. Jim Carrey delivers his most restrained performance, with Kate Winslet playing the wild card. Regardless of how their characters are scripted, Carrey and Winslet make a strange pair, but their interplay is universal in how it speaks to our …

I’m moving to the next one.

No. 9 - “Caché” (2005)

Man, I would have been pissed off if I had paid to see this bugger in a theater. Director/writer Michael Haneke likes fucking with us and then, to slightly plagiarize a friend, laughing maniacally at the ruckus. Basically, think an evil, thinner Alfred Hitchcock with white hair and beard, glasses, and vicious teeth.

But I really like the bastard, what can I say. But yeah, I missed the ending to this film. Strange idea, isn’t it? Missed the fucking ending. Then you look at the title again, “Caché,” and curse yourself for letting Haneke win again.

You will get no definitive answers to the mystery, but this isn’t “The Birds.” Haneke simply dangles possibilities in front of you.

The crazy thing is I don’t think Haneke gives a shit about what actually happened in this story. He wants you to look at what caused the mystery. Truthfully, it’s a simple ploy, but we are so used to certain conventions that it is devastating. Thank Christ you’re not the protagonist.

Plus, any movie that puts all its opening credits on one screen is admirably cuckoo.

No. 8 - “The Royal Tenenbaums” (2001)

A few people may see this movie at No. 8 and go, “Sorry, I can’t get into Wes Anderson.” I can help with that. If Anderson’s intentions are that dubious, pretend this entry is about your favorite movie of all time.

Essentially, “The Royal Tenenbaums” is a storybook of a film, complete with obvious typography and a section for the cast of characters. The story is narrated by a calm Alec Baldwin, which is a testament to Anderson’s knack for self-referential contradictions. Clearly, the introduction of this film is an odd way to start a movie. But listen closely. A cover of “Hey Jude” by The Beatles is playing in the background, and the lyric “Take a sad song and make it better” perfectly describes what Anderson is doing with the dysfunctional Tenenbaum family.

For example, instead of presenting Royal Tenenbaum (Gene Hackman in a superb role), the insensitive father, in a totally negative light, Anderson wants us to laugh at him when he lies about having cancer to win his family back. Rereading the previous sentence brings to mind a genuine sadness to this film that Anderson cloaks and reveals ever so well.

But fuck all that. Look at this cast: Hackman, Anjelica Houston, Ben Stiller, Gwyneth Paltrow, Luke Wilson, Owen Wilson, Danny Glover, Bill Murray, and Kumar Pallana.

I believe I have shown there is nothing that difficult to “get” here. If I haven’t, perhaps I should have included “The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou” in this list like my wacky side suggested.

No. 7 - “The Piano Teacher” (2001)

Close call. I almost listed two movies in a row by the same director twice. (Check out No. 16, “Audition,” and No. 15, “Ichi the Killer,” both by Takashi Miike.)

A question remains, however. Does Michael Haneke deserve to have two movies in a top 10? No, the scheming bastard certainly doesn’t. I am not a Haneke fan in the way one is a Nolan fan. Haneke is a self-important and deceptive person. Having said that, his films are unique, provocative, and unforgettable, and those three adjectives should describe all of the top 10. Otherwise, what the hell am I doing?

I want to switch gears a bit to write about Isabelle Huppert, who plays the titular protagonist. Huppert is a scary actress, much like Daniel Day-Lewis is a scary actor. The depths she is able to convey through both subtle and fierce performing may scar you. I could not remove her character from my mind. Her motivations and secrets are tormenting.

But see, that’s only the excellent actress at work. During the film, you might feel guilty, as Haneke’s camera angles seem more like hiding spots for the most depraved voyeur than visual framing for a story. Like Hitchcock, Haneke is very interested in letting you see nastiness, but the primary weapon in “The Piano Teacher” is sexuality, not violence. If you can handle the violence, Haneke thinks you should be able to handle the sexuality.

(By the way, “Audition” has lost its throne as the most disturbing movie on this list.)

No. 6 - “Oldboy” (2003)

This revenge film from director/writer Park Chan-wook is as visceral as it is intellectual. Don’t let those who praise the hallway fight as cool lead you astray. “Oldboy” is not about heroism or victory. Chan-wook takes the Sophocles approach to tragedy but mixes in enough dark humor and romance to make you think he was the kid burying bodies in the sandbox to make a larger point about—ah, just take my word for it.

This movie is fucked up. That is one claim no one will dispute. The challenge is to take “Oldboy” in a broader context rather than as a film for the sake of itself. If one misses the commentary on the dreary revenge film genre, the movie may resemble unjustified torture. I assure you it is not. Even the infamous squid scene ties into Chan-wook’s critique of revenge flicks. (I’ve read that more than one real octopus had to die for the scene.)

But it’s so addicting! “Oldboy” is immensely rewarding on repeated viewings. Choi Min-sik's lead performance is just as scorching every time (the same can be said for Yoo Ji-tae's antagonist), and his voice-over narration doesn't get tiresome, as it is needed and funny. The flip side is that one also realizes this is an incredibly contrived story, but for a contrived story, it knows how to punch you in the gut.

Damn, I wanted to put this at No. 1.

Another Top 50 Films of the 2000s List: 15-11.

2010-02-24T08:39:00.000-08:00

No. 15 - “Ichi the Killer” (2001)

I don’t like it when a list includes two movies by the same director in a row (in this case, Takashi Miike), but damn it, this is how my ranking turned out. “Ichi the Killer” contains more perverse violence than anything on this list. Dismemberment, disembowelment, torture with hooks, rape, tongue cutting. Fucked up, I know, but this exaggerated violence seems to mock Japanese gangster films and anime. “Ichi” was clearly made with comedy in mind, as evidenced by cartoony gore, wild characters (one guy puts on dog ears to become a hound/sleuth), and complete lack of explanation for the titular character’s deadly suit (which may comment on countless anime in which whiny protagonists become unstoppable via ridiculous suits).

But why the hell is it so high on the list? The story is unique, where almost every character has a sadistic or masochistic side. These tendencies are often exploited for laughs, but if you take the characters for what they are, their motivations are understandable. The script simply plays by a different rulebook.

Convention and decency are not only ignored in “Ichi”—they are deemed inappropriate. Perhaps the boldest display of this philosophy can be seen in the film’s climax, when Miike allows his cast (led by the incredible Tadanobu Asano) and crew to make the creative decisions themselves. As Miike explains in a DVD commentary track for this scene, one possibility is more fascinating than multiple possibilities.

He’s right. There will never be another climax like it.

No. 14 - “Memories of Murder” (2003)

Director/writer Bong Joon-ho could have made a pretty good serial killer film, like David Fincher went on to do with “Zodiac” in 2007. After all, Joon-ho was drawing material from real and fascinating unsolved cases in South Korea. Instead, he made a great satire using the same story. This is why you see an officer dropkicking a suspect during an interrogation. Every time you think you might be watching a procedure, “Memories of Murder” inches toward bitter critique. Song Kang-ho is brilliant as the lead detective who helps botch the investigation.

No. 13 - “Spirited Away” (2001)

From my standpoint, one can enjoy Hayao Miyazaki’s animated masterpiece in two ways. You can watch “Spirited Away” as a quirky story about growing up, with the child protagonist Chihiro getting a job, falling in love, and finding her way in a world of spirits and magic. Just as one’s life is affected by many people, Chihiro meets an array of strange characters that help and challenge her.

However, I prefer watching “Spirited Away” the other way, accepting every weird, unexplained thing as fact and not bothering with what anything means. Judging by certain negative opinions on this film, some people may have forgotten the bliss of watching a movie as a child. Miyazaki certainly hasn’t.

No. 12 - “Eastern Promises” (2007)

David Cronenberg changed his direction for the 2000s, leaving behind social critique and sci-fi/horror for a more realistic, character-driven, and subtler approach. (But as one can see in “Spider,” “History of Violence,” and “Eastern Promises,” the director didn’t abandon subtext.) Cronenberg improved this new approach with each of his 2000s films, making “Eastern Promises” his contemporary masterpiece. For such a short film in an overcrowded crime genre, it explores several themes and sets itself apart from “The Godfather,” “Miller’s Crossing,” and every other superb crime film (for example, everyone uses knives in “Eastern Promises”).

The cast and characters are devastatingly good. Viggo Mortensen’s best performance could have been a disastrous lesson on how not to do a Russian accent. Half the battle was won with the script, which presents Mortensen’s character as a three-dimensional moral enigma. Then you have Naomi Watts, whose maternal heroine stands up to an organized family of crooks; Vincent Cassel (almost steals the movie), a son who may or may not be hiding homosexual feelings; and Armin Mueller-Stahl, a friendly but sinister force of evil.

But as much as Cronenberg restrained himself in the 2000s, he still couldn’t help his fascination with the relationship between sex and violence. This lack of restraint is best demonstrated in the sauna fight of “Eastern Promises,” a hilarious spectacle of penetration and dick waving. What makes the scene so well done is how its excess complements the overall story.

Finally, I like any movie that knows how to use a voice-over narrative with fucking dignity. “Eastern Promises” doesn’t overuse the device and allows it to enrich the story, not frustrate me with rambling and exposition.

No. 11 - “Pan’s Labyrinth” (2006)

“Pan’s Labyrinth” is a fairly tale in hell that gets darker every time I see it. The greatness of this film lies in its ability to be simple and profound simultaneously. The fantasy segments don’t give us a break from the war story. They help us understand it. Guillermo Del Toro handles the theme of resisting authority—even if it means death—rather brilliantly, framing the idea in the context of politics and family. The girl Ofelia is defying both a captain of a repressive regime and her stepfather. While this story element may seem merely obvious, it helps accomplish the impressive feat of melding the war and fantasy genres.

“Pan’s Labyrinth” does a lot of things very well: acting, cinematography, visual effects, characters, etc. But what I can’t forget is the woman humming during the main theme of the film’s soundtrack and how her voice overcomes an undefined sadness.

Another Top 50 Films of the 2000s List: 20-16.

2010-02-12T08:27:00.000-08:00

No. 20 - “Children of Men” (2006)

The cinematography in this allegorical sci-fi film is breathtaking, but director/writer Alfonso Cuarón uses the camera to support his story about hope and fear, not drown it. “Children of Men” is sometimes nihilistic with its brutal depictions of murder and xenophobia, but the movie also explores the resilience of humankind—in the form of a baby—and the general beauty of life (perhaps the latter is best symbolized by the strange attention Cuarón gives to kittens). Because the script relies heavily on metaphors, the film could have collapsed without the talented cast, including action man Clive Owen in his best performance, Michael Caine in an unusual turn, and Chiwetel Ejiofor, whom I believe ranks with the top performers of the decade.

No. 19 - “The Lives of Others” (2006)

Odd. Controversial films are generally loud, but this subtle picture stirred up some shit. One cause of debate was “The Lives of Others” winning the Best Foreign Film Oscar over “Pan’s Labyrinth.” Others argued that the film was too optimistic and unrealistic in regard to its protagonist, a fictional member of the secret police of 1980s East Germany. The film was also questioned for delving into the fascistic tendencies of the German Democratic Republic. Before the film’s release, criticism regarding the GDR was taboo in Germany, despite the fact that the GDR’s secret police invaded the private lives of Germans through wiretaps and informants.

All of this hubbub over one of the most restrained dramas I’ve seen. Director/writer Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck’s direction is an interesting beast to dissect, as its power can be inexplicably overwhelming. The challenge is giving it a chance. “The Lives of Others” is a cinematic heavyweight that cannot be easily—or perhaps accurately—described in a review or on the back of a DVD case.

No. 18 - “American Splendor” (2003)

“American Splendor” is a comedy about a couple from an autobiographical comic book of the same name and is directed by two documentarians who happen to be a couple. What a crazy sentence to write and read, but the film is a crazy, unique production. There’s nothing quite like watching actor Paul Giamatti as a curmudgeon, especially when he’s playing off an equally adept actress like Hope Davis. But watching the real Harvey Pekar and Joyce Brabner show up in the film to discuss, yes, the film? Fuck, my mind has stopped and I can’t write anymore …

No. 17 - “City of God” (2002)

I was not captivated the first time I tried watching this one. I stopped it before an hour had passed. I have no idea why, considering how impressed I was throughout my second viewing. Well, maybe I have an idea. I kind of stupidly dismissed it as a Brazilian “Boyz n the Hood” wannabe. Damn.

“City of God” makes “Mean Streets” look tame. Most of its cast came from real shanty towns in Brazil. In other words, the film could have been a shitty bummer, but the direction of Fernando Meirelles and Kátia Lund lends enough cinematic power to prevent the movie from being a boring exercise in realism. Something as straightforward as chasing a chicken becomes a surreal parade. And that’s only the first memorable scene (which occurs at the very beginning of the film, by the way). The script is also strong. It wants us to sympathize with the protagonist, a boy whose love of journalism helps him escape the streets, but this is not a preachy or sentimental story, and other fascinating characters—like Li'l Zé, Benny, and Carrot—often steal the spotlight.

If nothing else, “City of God” is a trumpet leader for modern Brazilian cinema. I am still unfamiliar with the country’s other recent endeavors in filmmaking, but “The Elite Squad” waits for me as I write this entry.

No. 16 - “Audition” (2000)

There is only one other 2000s movie that disturbed me as much as “Audition,” but I will be writing about that later. Director Takashi Miike is a cunt’s hair away from insanity, but he’s also one of the greatest and most prolific directors alive. His sensibilities are unorthodox, deranged, and unpredictable. The first 50 minutes, give or take, of this film almost resemble a romantic comedy, but the set-up becomes a faint (and pleasant) memory once you experience the second half. Experience. “Audition” isn’t something you watch. It’s something that gets into your stomach. Poe and Hitchcock would have loved it.

As an aside, you will see “Audition” listed as both a 1999 and 2000 film, depending on the source. I tried to dig up the reason but haven’t found anything definitive. However, Wikipedia indicates the film was released in Canada October 6, 1999, and in Japan, March 3, 2000. A Japanese Movie Database link corroborates the Japan release date.

Another Top 50 Films of the 2000s List: 25-21.

2010-02-01T07:22:00.000-08:00

No. 25 - “Into the Wild” (2007)

Sean Penn can write and direct. If someone mentioned his name and asked me what I thought, that's what I would say. Yes, he's a good actor, but he often overplays the part. As a director, Penn has much more control, he knows when to hit hard, and he injects a subtle intensity into both of his full-length 2000s films, “The Pledge” and “Into the Wild.”

Penn's eye for tragedy evolved with “Into the Wild,” though. “The Pledge” was tragic, but it was also sort of a detached examination of chance. “Into the Wild” is personal. One can tell Penn has a strong admiration for the protagonist, Christopher McCandless. But as you see in the second half of the film, Penn is also willing to pinpoint the brutal irony in the story of McCandless, a man looking for meaning that was in front of him almost the whole time.

Emile Hirsch won't go down as one of my favorite actors, but he's fantastic as McCandless. Penn's script calls for a complex character, likable and intelligent yet disappointing and shortsighted, and Hirsch gets every bit of it right. I was also impressed by the supporting cast, particularly Hal Holbrook, whose late appearance is unforgettable and crushing.

As excellent as this film is, it doesn't go beyond the bottom of my top 25 for one reason: Eddie Vedder's contributions to the soundtrack. I can listen to Pearl Jam without laughing, but Vedder is hilariously inept here. What's worse, the music doesn't suit the imagery, either. I've been told Pearl Jam was McCandless' favorite band, so the soundtrack includes Vedder for that reason, but shitty music isn't what the film needed.

No. 24 - “The Hurt Locker” (2009)

I'm somewhat surprised this film captivated me. Lately I've been reevaluating my opinions on war movies. “Tropic Thunder” and “Inglourious Basterds” helped inspire these second thoughts. So even though I was very interested in “The Hurt Locker,” I was apprehensive. I didn't want to see any obvious pro-American nonsense with a soldier I could believe in.

“The Hurt Locker,” superbly directed by Kathryn Bigelow, is not your everyday war film, though. It's an honest character study that favors suspense over action, which tends to be mesmerizing when it's there. The first explosion is a religious experience if you worship Sam Peckinpah. But don't take that to mean the film is about spectacle. Ultimately, the film rests on nuanced acting from Jeremy Renner and Anthony Mackie, whose relationship in the film involves uncomfortable racial tension. I believe their roles also benefit from the fact that two veteran actors, Guy Pearce and Ralph Fiennes, aren’t allowed to take over the screen. Bigelow makes damn sure of that.

Frankly, the film's general visual style had to grow on me. It often subscribes to the Shake The Camera If You Have One philosophy, but Bigelow's execution is much better than what you would have seen from Michael Bay, Danny Boyle, Paul Greengrass, Marc Forster, or any other director who has recently utilized the style.

I haven't read too many reviews of “The Hurt Locker,” so I'm not sure if everyone has sucked off the sound effects enough, but I will anyway. The sound in this movie is the best since “WALL-E,” especially in scenes with fire and even for smaller details, like a knife cutting through a car seat.

No. 23 - “Sideways” (2004)

The script doesn't always work, but “Sideways” seems to improve the more I watch it, thanks to Alexander Payne's brilliant direction and great performances from Paul Giamatti, Thomas Haden Church, Virginia Madsen, and Sandra Oh. Payne wisely keeps a comical tone for the most part, but the film contains several effective dramatic moments. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, Payne established a two-movie streak of hefty nude people with “Sideways.” I am curious to see whether he maintains the streak in his next movie, if it ever comes out. (Honestly, I wish Payne would get off his ass and do something.)

No. 22 - “Downfall” (2004)

I stopped “Downfall” after about two hours into its running time to take a breather from disturbing content. Perhaps the film doesn’t affect everyone in the same manner, but director Oliver Hirschbiegel wanted the film to answer tough questions, particularly about Adolf Hitler’s humanity. Much has been said about Bruno Ganz’s three-dimensional portrayal of Hitler. For some people, it is not easy to accept the idea that Hitler was a charismatic man, but Ganz demonstrates how he was. Of course, Ganz’s frenzied breakdown, which is associated with a boring Internet joke thanks to a Depraved Scheme, is one of the decade’s finest moments in acting.

No. 21 - “Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World” (2003)

Not many actors in the world can match Russell Crowe's intensity, but Paul Bettany is one of them. Director/writer Peter Weir creates one of the most fascinating relationships in film history with Crowe and Bettany, who represent the conflict of politics vs. science. “Master and Commander” is a superb overall production, no slouch in terms of art direction, sound, visual effects, music, and cinematography. Weir's sly sense of humor—demonstrated throughout 1998's “The Truman Show”—is the key to the movie's brilliant ending. This choice is a benchmark for the list, in that every movie after this point must be great in almost every respect to warrant mentioning.

Another Top 50 Films of the 2000s List: 30-26.

2010-01-25T14:05:00.000-08:00

This entry took me longer to write for a couple of reasons. First, I rewatched "Fulltime Killer," a film I thought was definitely going to make the list. Yes, the film has great action, but I wanted more. The action scenes are too short, and there's too much talking. Hence, "Fulltime Killer" didn't make the list, and I needed a replacement. Second, I watched three acclaimed 2009 films and wanted to take a breather in case they warranted inclusion. And I'm happy to say one of them made a lasting impression on me.

So the bottom 25 is over with this entry. Again, these choices are negotiable in their placement. I am far more concerned with the ordering for the top 25.

No. 30 – “The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters” (2007)

Yeah, yeah, it’s a documentary involving video games, but “The King of Kong” gets on the list because it lets us laugh at losers. I can appreciate the appeal of having The High Score on a video game, but professional gamer Billy Mitchell suggests he’s just as controversial as the abortion issue, and Steve Wiebe cries during one scene when he fails to beat Mitchell’s high score on “Donkey Kong.” The characters in this film gave me so much joy that I considered visiting them and writing my own story, but I have abandoned the idea.

Is the movie factual? For the most part it is, but a few people who appear in the documentary, Mitchell and Wiebe among them, dispute certain claims of the film. You could put yourself through many headaches trying to pinpoint lies. I’m sure these nerds are willing to say anything after being exposed for the crazy lads they are, but they might have a decent point or two. Honestly, I don’t give a shit because the movie is funny and well-directed.

No. 29 – “Amélie” (2001)

I always want to watch this movie again immediately after I finish it, a rather attractive quality for a romantic comedy considering that I usually find films in this genre unfunny and unromantic. “Amélie” is bloated with creativity, much like Woody Allen’s masterpiece, “Annie Hall.” Director/writer Jean-Pierre Jeunet is much more positive than Allen, though, and actress Audrey Tautou leads the march with her unique smile and penchant for mischief. The film basically tells you it is scripted, but unlike “Slumdog Millionaire,” it never takes itself too seriously. Admittedly, I wish the reference to Princess Diana’s death could have been traded for another equally ridiculous plot device, but you can’t have everything in a movie this wild.

No. 28 – “Ratatouille” (2007)

“Great art may come from anywhere—not everywhere.” Has the world of art and art criticism ever been summarized so well? Not to my knowledge. I don’t have much to write about this film other than it lives up to what it says. But yes, its voice-over narration is Shitty.

No. 27 – “The Fountain” (2006)

Many people like Darren Aronofsky because of “Requiem for a Dream,” but I didn’t appreciate his direction until I finished “The Fountain.” The film received mixed reviews, though, and I turned it off the first time I tried to watch it.

My second attempt to watch “The Fountain” was different. I completed it in one sitting, and the film’s three stories interlocked beautifully. Despite the film’s uncomfortable focus on death, the movie had a peaceful effect on me.

Going back to the mixed reviews, there was some common ground. No could deny the visual artistry of the film, and many noted the good intentions of Aronofsky. But some dismissed the film as pretentious and confusing with no emotional power.

Whereas I found it a mature take on life and death that doesn’t discredit emotion or intellect.

No. 26 – “The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford” (2007)

Good luck guessing the ending to this one!

But it’s not that simple, and thank Christ. The relationship between Jesse James and Robert Ford is downright strange, but the movie works because of Brad Pitt and Casey Affleck. Pitt makes a great upscale redneck, and Affleck is a disturbing little bastard. Neither one is that likeable, but their interplay is a subtle breed of film magic.

If Pitt and Affleck make the movie worthwhile, director/writer Andres Dominik makes it a work of art. His script is an apt blend of the western and psychological thriller, and his use of hazy images gives the film a spooky quality that matches the story.

By the way, I briefly considered putting this sucker in my top 25, but it happens to feature annoying voice-over narration every once in while, so there you go. Don’t tell me what the fuck’s happening when it’s obvious, especially when you’re making a slow-paced film in the first place.

Another Top 50 Films of the 2000s List: 35-31.

2010-01-16T09:55:00.000-08:00

My ordering has been off for the bottom 25 out of laziness, but these five choices could have been in my top 25 if I weren't such a snob.

No. 35 – "The Pianist" (2002)

This film was not easy to include in my list for political reasons. Director Roman Polanski is back in the news again, finally apprehended for fleeing the United States more than 30 years ago during his infamous statutory rape case. There is no excuse for Polanski’s crime, but his morality is not being judged here. This list is about films, and nothing is ineligible because of controversy related to a film or filmmaker. I know many people will not expose themselves to the works of particular criminals or assholes, but I would limit myself as a person if I adopted the same philosophy. It is certainly your right to feel differently, but any criticism of my inclusion of “The Pianist” will be seen as irrelevant if it relates to Polanski’s personal life.

“The Pianist” is a personal film--the "No Shit, Sherlock" phrase of the sentence--from Polanski, who survived Nazi oppression in Poland during World War II (his mother didn’t). I avoided this film for years because I didn’t want to watch another movie about the Holocaust. “Schindler’s List” was enough for me, I thought, and I’ve never cared for Adrien Brody that much. But I gave the movie a fair shot a couple of years ago.

What strikes me about “The Pianist” more than any other movie in the list is that it is great for one unequivocal reason: the direction. Brody received a lot of praise and awards, but I credit more of his performance to Polanski. The phenomenon is quite subtle, but it’s as if I’m watching someone else when I watch Brody. Polanski maintains his detached style in the camerawork (in contrast to Spielberg’s more upfront camera in “Schindler’s List”), but he channels his mixed emotions about survival through Brody, whose character is not glorified by the guilt-stricken director. The effect is directorial control at its most remarkable.

No. 34 – “About Schmidt” (2002)

That Jack Nicholson appears in two movies on my list illustrates how much respect I have for him as an actor. Contrary to what some people say, Nicholson doesn’t just or primarily play himself, and many specific criticisms of his work fall flat. For example, his performance in “A Few Good Men” is not that over the top, and I say that after recently rewatching it to spot the ham and cheese. Some people also thought he was too “Jack” in “The Departed,” but I found his improvised dildo scene in the theater savagely inspired. That is, when I do see Nicholson playing himself, I might ask, “How is that a bad thing?” At least he’s not playing parodies of himself for the most part (exceptions include “Anger Management” and “The Witches of Eastwick”), unlike Al Pacino, Robert De Niro, and Christopher Walken. And how many people have seen the majority of his work? (I barely have.) “The Passenger,” “Broadcast News,” and “Missouri Breaks” feature only three examples of overlooked Nicholson performances—he is more prolific, selecting, and versatile than what you might have read.

But enough about Nicholson, who plays the most delicate role of his career as Schmidt. Director/writer Alexander Payne is a master at combining comedy and drama. “About Schmidt” is a comedy for the most part, with a couple of wacky scenes involving failed seduction, but Payne dares to end the film dramatically. I usually hate it when comedies soften up, but Payne doesn’t quench the laughter out of fear or laziness. He wants us to see the frailty we may face through an actor who still has the fire after all these years.

No. 33 – “Let the Right One In” (2008)

I toyed with the idea of including Park Chan-wook’s vampire movie, “Thirst,” but that crazy stuff is not easily understood in one viewing. However, I’m confident that “Let the Right One In” will reward me on even more viewings, and that’s the kind of movie you always want, whether it’s great or a piece of shit. “Let the Right One In” does not fall into the latter category, but Swedish director Tomas Alfredson stumbles a couple of times. The CGI cats are quite embarrassing, for instance. Such a loud mistake is countered and eventually forgotten with Alfredson’s quiet style. The movie’s story is serious in that it involves children and bloodsucking, and there is one disturbing glance of what vampirism wrought on a young girl. But the movie softens the blow with subtle humor and an appreciation of love. (I also find it amusing that so many people cherish “Twilight” as a love story when the younger characters of “Let the Right One In” display more maturity.)

No. 32 – “Memento” (2000)

The most passionate Nolan fans would string me up by the balls (only verbally, of course) if I didn’t choose one of his films. So I’m going with the only 2000s Nolan film that deserves it. I like “Insomnia” and “The Prestige,” but they are lightweights compared to “Memento,” and “Batman Begins” and “The Dark Knight” have gotten tiresome after multiple viewings (if you ask me which one is better, I would flatly say “Begins”). Nolan is a good director, but “Memento” is the only Nolan film I can call excellent without any hesitation (I haven’t watched his 1998 debut, “Following”).

The screenplay is the best out of Nolan’s 2000s films. It avoids the pitfalls of exposition and idiotic dialogue (“Batman Begins” and “The Dark Night”) and doesn’t peter out (“Insomnia”) or champion an obvious revelation (“The Prestige”). Guy Pierce, Carrie-Anne Moss, and Joe Pantoliano nail their flawed, sometimes unlikable characters. Most importantly, Nolan communicates clearly despite an unusual and meticulous timeframe. “Memento” is still the benchmark for the productive director.

No. 31 – “A History of Violence” (2005)

This film is a tricky little bastard from David Cronenberg. If you’re not careful, you could dismiss it as a clichéd story about a guy with a shady past, but Cronenberg is going for straightforward subtext. He also can’t help himself from making yet another connection between sex and violence, but the perspective is nonetheless interesting. Ed Harris and William Hurt are not as likable as Viggo Mortensen’s protagonist, but by the end of the film, a moral question about Mortensen arises, and one might believe he’s more than a little full of shit. I didn’t understand this movie after one viewing—but even then, I could appreciate the powerful opening and closing scenes.

Another Top 50 Films of the 2000s List: 40-36.

2010-01-11T06:50:00.000-08:00

Quickly, before we start this up again: I was reading through my progress, and I really haven't put much thought into the bottom 25. I know I already said as much in the introduction, but it's incredibly obvious when one reads through the list. No. 38 should be lower. Hell, so should No. 37. I should have already included an entry on "Fulltime Killer." Alright, onward.

No. 40 - “The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring” (2001)

Peter Jackson's adaptation of Tolkien's book is superior to his next two films, “The Two Towers” and “The Return of the King.” The main reason is that "The Fellowship of the Ring" carefully balances large-scale battles with character-based moments, whereas the other two movies are too hung up on CGI carnage to tell a great story. Moreover, “Fellowship” is not as fucking long and has more meaningful character deaths. And is Viggo Mortensen ever more interesting in the series? Hell, no. Honestly, you could probably strike this movie off the list, but I feel it deserves a place somewhere. (I'm not a Tolkien enthusiast, by the way. Some of his ideas were really dumb, like Sauron being nothing more than a big eye on fire, and I generally don't care for his slow writing.)

No. 39 - “The Pledge” (2001)

I have a strange opinion about Sean Penn. I think he should stick behind the camera. Jack Nicholson gives one of his most nuanced performances as a detective who puts solving a case for a mourning mother above everything else. Penn builds suspense and even throws in one of the scariest moments of the decade. The script is the movie's greatest weapon, though, offering a sobering ending and a theme involving chance (a precursor to what “Match Point” and “No Country For Old Men” would go on to do).

No. 38 - “JCVD” (2008)

Hell, I never thought I would be able to say a Jean-Claude Van Damme movie is great. You might have to watch “Bloodsport,” “Lionheart,” and “Kickboxer” to appreciate everything this film is about, but Van Damme's ability to make you feel for him is impressive, the script is funny and original, and director/writer Mabrouk El Mechri (let me know if you know the pronunciation) keeps the pacing tight. The surreality kicks into overdrive with a pleading monologue from Van Damme, a risk that seems pretty lame in theory, but the martial artist and Mechri pull it off.

No. 37 - “The Aristocrats” (2005)

There are two things I appreciate about this documentary. First, it's hilarious. George Carlin, Stephen Wright, the Smothers Brothers, Sarah Silverman, Jon Stewart, and dozens of other comedians share their thoughts and takes on a dirty inside joke about show biz. The joke in question is described as a jazz riff in the film, where a comedian takes the structure of the joke but makes the middle his or her own creation, whether improvised or planned. Second, it doesn't overstay its raunchy welcome, so if you have the sensibility for this type of humor, you're laughing for about 70 straight minutes. Admittedly, a few of the selected comedians are kinda shitty, but you can see how the joke evolves and devolves by teller, which serves the purpose of the film. I've watched “The Aristocrats” several times and still find its honesty refreshing.

No. 36 - “WALL-E” (2008)

This entry is bitchier than others, but the truth is I'm a bit disappointed I can't put this film higher on the list. The last 25 minutes or so of “WALL-E” aren't a complete disgrace, but they're nothing to be proud of, either. Pixar needed a hero, and a dumb fucking character inexplicably saves the day during a trite action sequence, complete with shit sliding down an unstable ship floor. Everyone soon cheers on Earth because humankind rules!

I wouldn't be as harsh on the final third of this film if the first hour hadn't snatched me by the balls. I remember seeing the previews at home and telling people the picture looked like a lame R2-D2 fantasy, but when the opening of “WALL-E” hit me with imagery and dissolves that evoke John Ford, I couldn't believe it. Wow. And the greatness didn't stop. The movie dares to go the route of little to no dialogue for quite a stretch. Not only did Pixar pull this off, but the studio was jeopardizing the commercial viability of the film … no talking isn't what you usually try to sell in a modern movie for the family, but Pixar keeps the kids entertained with the best sound effects since, fuck, a long time ago, and adults could chew on the eternal human theme of loneliness and brutally honest commentary on the environment of the planet. And I'm just now mentioning that the titular character is a visual masterpiece by itself that anyone of any age can appreciate.

The first hour or so was a jaw-dropping mixture of science fiction, romantic comedy, and satire, and I was in total shock. Was I watching one of the greatest movies of all time? Yes!

So while I'm still disappointed with Pixar eventually taking the familiar route, I am thankful for “WALL-E.” Besides being a masterpiece for about two-thirds of its running time, the movie showed me—more than any other—that my intuition can be embarrassingly off the mark.

Another Top 50 Films of the 2000s List: 45-41.

2010-01-08T07:11:00.000-08:00

No. 45 - "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang" (2005)

Robert Downey Jr.

I could leave the entry at that, given Downey Jr.'s mostly must-watch record. He is the protagonist and narrator, kinda dimwitted but strangely capable. He's trying to be a detective with the help of … a gay Val Kilmer. This idea could have been a disaster, but it is Kilmer's best role since he played Doc Holiday perfectly in “Tombstone.” And that's because Kilmer is allowed to be funny, seemingly instructed to stop taking himself seriously. As a result, his character is the intelligence among all the idiocy.

But what the hell is this movie trying to accomplish? A satirical commentary on film noir that is both caustic and sentimental about the classic genre. The film succeeds brilliantly, thanks to daring swipes at “Chinatown,” “L.A. Confidential,” and anything with a narrator. The plot is convoluted to the point of absurdity, and women are used and abused so much you can't help but shake your head (though actress Michelle Monaghan plays a good heroine). “Kiss Kiss Bang Bang” has a funny point. Surprisingly, it's written and directed by Shane Black, the guy who wrote “Lethal Weapon.”

No. 44 - “Brick” (2006)

“Kiss Kiss Bang Bang” is a great modern satire on film noir. “Brick” is just creative modern film noir. Director/writer Rian Johnson's detective story involves high schoolers. The coolest one is the gumshoe, of course, played by Joseph Gordon-Levitt, who has quietly turned into a damn good actor. While many viewers and critics are dreaming of Shia LeBeouf and Ryan Gosling, Gordon-Levitt is acting very well, and he has screen presence to spare. Hell, I even liked the campy shit he did in “G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra.” If you find me especially nonsober, you might even hear me say I thought he was alright in “10 Things I Hate About You,” right before I commit suicide because of snobby principles. Dear God I've ruined this entry. I'll just end it quickly by saying this movie has its own language, like those Humphrey Bogart pictures, and a cool footchase.

No. 43 - “Team America: World Police” (2004)

Some would consider this a belligerent choice on my part. “Team America” is indeed belligerent itself, but it's also funny and intelligent as hell. Any movie with puppets doing graphic sex scenes and puking their guts out during a dramatic moment deserves a lot of credit. And there's the political commentary one can appreciate in a drunken analogy involving dicks, pussies, and assholes. Alright, I'm a deranged person, and that's why this movie made the list. Before I leave this disgraceful choice behind, the soundtrack is undeniably hilarious with its sledgehammer approach.

No. 42 - “Adaptation” (2002)

Let's get a few things straight. This movie contains the two best performances by Nicholas Cage. That alone is one helluva accomplishment. But look at the other solid performances: Meryl Streep, Brian Cox, Tilda Swinton, and Cara Seymour. Oh yeah, I almost forgot Chris Cooper, who upstages everyone, even Streep. The screenplay by the Kaufman brothers is one that literally juxtaposes the two screenwriters and their styles. Finally, director Spike Jonze makes this weird shit understandable, and the movie doesn't drag ass like Charlie Kaufman's somewhat enjoyable wankfest, “Synedoche, New York.”

I know a question might remain. What's the point? Allow me to share a rule about movie lists I forgot to include in my flawed introduction: Every movie list requires a self-referential, humorous but touching movie about filmmaking (think “8 1/2” by Federico Fellini). So we should just accept that and move on with Our Lives.

No. 41 - “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon” (2000)

Chow Yun-Fatt looks awesome sword fighting with one hand behind his back. As much as I would like to leave the entry at that … actually, I think I will.

Nah, I would never betray you, Dear Reader! Ang Lee, known for drama, directs a slew of incredible fight scenes, including a savage duel between Michelle Yeoh and Zhang Ziyi. Story-wise, “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon” is a soap opera about a sword, only this soap opera has good actors. I find myself not only waiting for the next battle but for, uh, love stuff. This choice is undoubtedly obvious considering how much praise the film receives, but not everyone talks about the less obvious parts of this movie, like Chang Chen's bandit, that add up to make a satisfying martial arts romance, unless your idea of “satisfying” must include nipples.

I suppose I should address the wire work a lot of people criticize. Lee, like Akira Kurosawa, is interested in melding the theatrical with the cinematic. He's not going for realism. If you don't dig that, there's nothing I can do to convince you that the movie is worthwhile.

Another Top 50 Films of the 2000s List.

2010-01-05T09:25:00.000-08:00

What makes a good movie list? Well, it must include obvious choices, or you will be berated for oversight. It must also include odd choices, or you will be criticized for sticking to the obvious. I realize this balance is almost impossible to maintain, but in all seriousness, I just want to share what I love about 2000s filmmaking. In no way can this list be considered definitive, unless you limit the analysis to films I've been exposed to. At the same time, I try to give equal footing to those obvious and odd choices.

(Speaking of being criticized for sticking to the obvious, you should check out the Five Favorite Films features at Rotten Tomatoes. If a director, actor, or whoever cites “The Godfather” as a favorite film, the commenters go after that person like rabid badgers. This is Really Questionable to me. The implication is that someone is a hack for liking “The Godfather” a lot, so I suppose Stanley Kubrick was a fucking hack.)

After reading this list, you will have a good idea of what I have been exploring and what I prefer. You might detest a choice. You might think a choice is placed too high in general or peculiarly sandwiched between two superior movies. You might discern that I enjoy the Coen brothers stuff too much.

Fine. I want discussion. That's really it.

I want to be as upfront as possible about my limitations. While I am quite aware of South Korea's recent output, I don't know much about contemporary Iranian filmmaking, other than the greater attention it has received over the last few years. In other cases, my knowledge is limited as opposed to rich or nonexistent. Brazilian filmmaking? Big fucking surprise, “City of God” makes my list. But that's the only Brazilian movie I've seen. Thankfully, I know more about French and German films of the 2000s, but I probably look ignorant in these areas compared to other people. You can tell I live in the United States.

I also haven't seen every movie of every great filmmaker. Johnny To is the John Woo of the 2000s, but I've only seen two of his movies, “Exiled” and “Fulltime Killer.” The former was disappointing, but the latter makes my list. Does that mean “Fulltime Killer” is To's best film? Does that mean I wouldn't have put another one of his movies over “Fulltime Killer” if I had seen his complete body of work? No. But To is an important action director, and action movies often get the shaft in these lists, and “Fulltime Killer” is a great action movie.

I want my reasoning to be clear to you. With each entry, I am trying to put you in my head for a minute. These brief visits to my cranium might not be Pleasant every time, but I want them to be understandable and interesting. So let's start with the bottom five.

(Note: Choices 50-26 are negotiable. I didn’t spend much time ordering them, and I consider these choices to be of similar overall quality. Choices 25-1, however, are movies I won't budge on and will be more rigorously placed.)

No. 50 - “Casino Royale” (2006)

All I can say is “Well, fuck” if I blow my credibility here. It is true that the artistic merit of “Casino Royale” is dubious, but … wait, did I just use “artistic merit” and reference a James Bond film in the same sentence? Well, fuck.

It's a great action movie. The brutal, black-and-white opening scene is evidence of Martin Campbell's—who also directed the more traditional Bond film, “Goldeneye”--impressive sense for action directing. And then you have the boggling footchase, the hilarious airport explosion, the brief but memorable stair brawl, the PG-13 torture scene that makes me cringe more than usual. An action movie is supposed to keep you on your toes in a baffling fashion, and I think this one does. Some say the movie is too long, but its final action scene, which I wouldn't spoil for anyone, is more than enough payoff (OK, technically, I'm talking about the penultimate action scene that is much bigger than the very last action scene, which was a nice touch).

Last but not least, Daniel Craig is fantastic. He's badass, but he also makes Bond a more interesting character. The one-liners have less charm but more punch, the suave bullshit is gone, and he's a frighteningly effective killer on-screen. It's just refreshing that Craig and Campbell aim higher than everyone before them in terms of characterization and story without sacrificing the action. Too bad Campbell's steady hand couldn't have directed the sequel, “Quantum of Solace,” where Marc Forster shakes the camera so much you can't enjoy Craig doing what he does best. The greatest action movies—“Dirty Harry,” “The Killer, “Die Hard,” etc.—don't spare you the details of violence, and “Casino Royale” follows this formula with its own twists.

No. 49 – “Burn After Reading” (2008)

I thought this was a lesser effort from the Coens initially, but having watched it three times since, I deem my original conclusion lacking (you can read more about that here and here). The Coens are well-known for writing stupid characters to make us laugh, but there is something different about “Burn After Reading.” The film's characters are moronic as usual, but this time they are heavily associated with current American fads (excessive fitness, appearance-altering surgery, online dating, etc.).

Ray R., a friend at Comic Book Resources and no stranger to Washington, has an enlightening perspective: “it struck me by how quintessentially Washingtonian it is, where the terminally stupid mingle with those who think they're actually powerful, when in reality, who cares. Plus, true pragmatists like J.K. Simmons, who know where the bodies are buried, but don't care as long as the file gets closed.”

“Burn After Reading” also has the most outrageous MacGuffin in film history, hysterical disdain for movie trends (for example, overly dramatic music), deft physical humor, and a perfect deadpan ending thanks to the delivery of character actor J.K. Simmons. As a creator, God has a sense of humor (if he exists), and the same can be said about the Coens (they do exist). Only now they're meaner. Quite the sight, really.

No. 48 - “Save the Green Planet!” (2003)

My masturbation to South Korean cinema begins here. A good friend and I see this comedic film as one that pulls the rug out from under you. (In fact, I believe my friend first wrote that, bugging me incessantly to watch the movie, and I finally bought the fucking thing years ago, so I have to mention my friend or this is all Plagiarism.) However, whereas many movies only pull the rug once or twice, “Save the Green Planet!” is an entire movie of vicious and, if I could be allowed to write libelously, criminally insane rug pulling. Like other recent South Korean films, it is not shy about borrowing ideas from multiple genres—in this case, martial arts, science fiction, horror, crime, and comedies of all stripes. The film is the giddy work of a Whackjob, from the Far East rock rendition of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” to the downright ridiculous bee scene that gets me every time. The brief social commentary and tragedy really have no place, but it's hard not to appreciate a unique misstep. More rug pulling, in other words.

No. 47 - “The Descent” (2005)

I was tempted to include “Dog Soldiers” in this list, as it is very enjoyable. Director/writer Neil Marshall's other horror movie, “The Descent,” makes the list without question. But this is important: Fuck the American theatrical version, which butchers the character-based and psychological ending of the uncut British version that you should get on DVD if you care to watch this movie. The American version has a stupid peek-a-boo ending that is intended to be shocking. It comes across as something I could have written when I was 10 years old, only I would have written something better as a child.

Now that I've got that Nasty Bile out of the way, I like how every main character is female. Interestingly, the movie doesn't exploit their sexuality but rather utilizes them as personalities that bash into each other for disturbing consequences. The film is every bit a tragedy as it is a weird-creatures-that-kill-shit-in-the-cave flick. Marshall puts the camera in the most claustrophobic places I can remember. “The Descent” isn't just voyeuristic, it’s suffocating.

No. 46 - “Forty Shades of Blue” (2005)

Clearly inspired by 1970s filmmaking. Clearly pretentious (maybe a little too pretentious during certain scenes). Clearly the craft of a gifted director, Ira Sachs, who knows how to use space between characters to create moodiness. What makes the film, however, is the acting. Rip Torn is savage without going over the top. But actress Dina Korzun claims the screen in a fantastic ending that makes this otherwise depressing movie worth the trouble and, because of its strong but justified feminist tone, one of the more memorable dramas of the decade.

As an aside, I wouldn't have watched "Forty Shades of Blue" if I hadn't been working in a video store when it came out on DVD.

Defending and Attacking Larry Clark's 'Kids'

2009-11-10T06:57:00.000-08:00

I watched a slew of movies last week, but I'm writing about one I didn't enjoy as much as the others: "Kids." The film is a great example of uncompromising vision. Whether it's good or bad, people talk about and remember this shit.

If you look through the reviews on "Kids," you're going to find a lot of people calling the movie pornographic. I knew about the movie's controversial reputation, so I was expecting something truly fucked up last week. Well, I got something truly fucked up but not because of the reasons everyone had proposed.

"Kids" features teenage actors and actresses having simulated sex. While these scenes can't be ignored, they are still restrained in that there isn't much nudity or anything arousing about the circumstances of these scenes ... I don't see how a boy giving a girl HIV could be that arousing to many people, and the scumsuckers who might find this arousing are probably too busy with their sick routines. In other words, pornography is designed with an audience in mind, so I don't get the argument that director Larry Clark was disguising child pornography as art when he made "Kids."

Indeed, while watching "Kids" I could not divorce the thought that Clark considers himself a very serious artist (check out this interview for evidence that supports my theory). The film obviously has a message: kids are, quite frankly, fucked up. And Clark uses a documentary style in an attempt to give his message levity. Whereas pornography is, by definition, something with no message other than "Jerk off to this" or "Finger yourself" or ...

But some might still ask, "Would you consider it borderline child pornography [and therefore irresponsible]?" My serious answer is I don't know because I can't define "borderline child pornography." I don't watch child pornography and therefore have no idea where the line is drawn. Now, if you had asked me whether Stanley Kubrick's "Eyes Wide Shut" is borderline titty porn, I could respond because I have watched ...

This entry is probably making everyone uncomfortable at this point, but I'm almost finished. "Kids" is not pornography from my perspective, but it is troubling, and I mean outside of what the filmmakers wanted me to feel. Chloe Sevigny's character Jennie, for instance, doesn't seem to have much of a purpose other than being a punching bag. First, she learns she has HIV even though she's had sex only once. Before the film ends, she is raped. After the rape, you don't see her again.

It's a cold movie, and it's cold because Larry Clark and screenwriter Harmony Korine care. They want us to see how kids really are. But wait a minute. Not every kid is this fucked up.

And that's why I don't get "Kids." I was supposed to have my eyes opened, but:

1. I already knew this shit happens because I was a kid. Duh.

2. Reality isn't this bleak.

On the other hand, any film that provokes as much thought deserves a chance. Try it if you haven't.

(Another criticism against "Kids" is that Clark was exploiting his young cast. Yeah, I'm sure Clark was thinking about the big bucks he was going to make off his Hollywood blockbuster, "NC-17 Teen Drama with Rape Scene.")

'Zombieland': Did it need the damn Twinkie jokes?

2009-11-05T06:46:00.000-08:00

Fuck, I know. It looks like I'm about to take a big piss all over everyone's Fun. But that's not what I'm trying to do. I'll start by saying "Zombieland" is a decent comedy/family lesson/action film. I enjoyed it, and I wouldn't mind watching it again. My three favorite scenes:

3. The scene where Woody Harrelson (he pretty much outclasses the remaining cast members), Jesse Eisenberg, Emma Stone, and Abigail Breslin are taking turns talking in the front seat. Well-directed comedy.

2. The Zombie Kill of the Week. Or whatever the hell it was. It reminded me of Quentin Tarantino. By the way, Ruben Fleischer directed "Zombieland." Yeah, there is no wikipedia article on Fleischer, so don't even try now.

1. The scene where Woody is on a rollercoaster shooting shit. Great action directing.

Honorable mention to the slow-mo opening credits.

Were these scenes worth $8? I don't know, but the movie didn't completely shit the bed. But goddamn it, I despise advertising. When commercials come on, I stop paying attention. When people ask me if I've seen a particular "funny commercial," I have no idea what they're talking about. Total ignorance. And in this case, it makes me feel good.

On the other hand, it's hard for me to ignore a commercial when the product plays a central motherfucking role in the motivation of a character played by Woody Harrelson. Yeah, he really likes Twinkies, and just in case you can't remember, Twinkies are made by Hostess. Yes, he loves Twinkies.

The last two sentences are the summarized messages I received from "Zombieland," and the kinky part is that the movie wanted me to laugh at these messages. Honestly, it made me uncomfortable. For one thing, it wasn't funny to me in the slightest. I'm not unflexible on product placement or questionable advertising, either. "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" is one of the few television shows I enjoy. One episode from its fifth season featured quite a bit of questionable advertising (the show was clearly sucking off Dave & Buster's), but I didn't mind because I laughed at the show's jokes. Maybe I need to see "Zombieland" again to get the elusive Twinkie humor, but it sure as hell didn't work on me the first time. And the number of Twinkie jokes was too much. I could have casually forgotten about one comedic misfire.

I would like a Twinkie right now, but that's not a good idea at the moment. So there you go. I'm not going to bitch about how lame Jesse Eisenberg's voice-over was or anything else, just offering a simple question:

Did "Zombieland" need the damn Twinkie jokes? Surely something funnier could have motivated Harrelson's character. Something that wouldn't resemble a commercial at all. Something that wouldn't make me hungry.

Everyone Should Be Required to Watch the Last 15 Minutes of Cronenberg's 'The Brood.'

2009-11-03T07:35:00.000-08:00

I should explain myself. I used to write this blog. My last entry was more than three months ago. I kept telling people I would update. I kept telling them I would write about "Inglourious Basterds."

Well, I'm a fucking liar. I'm not writing about "Inglourious Basterds" now, but when the DVD comes out in December, I hope to get an entry for it.

Enough sincere apologies, I want to talk about watching movies for Halloween. I'm three days too late, but I don't think anyone has read The Truth about Halloween movie watching--assuming you've been reading the same stuff I've been reading.

You only need about 15 minutes, perhaps less, and a DVD of David Cronenberg's "The Brood." Unless you want to risk boredom or dissatisfaction, do not attempt to watch this film in its entirety. It has really shitty dialogue and acting. Alright, you got the DVD already? Skip to the scene where a man is confronting a woman and start watching. You may stop the movie when you see enough.

I realize not everyone will be inspired to find "The Brood," so I'll motivate you with these three words about the film's climax: bloody fetus licking.

So the next time someone recommends you a "great horror film you have never seen," remember this. The ending of the "The Brood" is probably more disturbing, and you only need about 15 minutes to fuck your sensibilities.

'Bruno': Relevant or Irreverent?

2009-07-16T07:30:00.000-07:00

Before I attempt to answer the question posed in the title, I want to shoot down a comparison people have been making.

The comparison is Tom Green and Sasha Baron Cohen. City Pulse writer Cole Smithey said, "Sasha Baron Coen picks up where Tom Green left off as cinema's most cunning agent provocateur." Smithey's misspelling is fun to point out, but more importantly, how the fuck was "Freddy Got Fingered" cunning? How was Green an agent in that film? It is important to make a distinction between Green's television and film work.

Google around and you'll find more comparisons. Even though I should be a douchebag for the sake of entertainment, I'll be fair. You could describe both Green and Cohen as obnoxious. And their comedy involves interacting with real people beyond a controlled setting for wild results. That's where the comparison ends. And with those two criteria, you could bring in other names, like Triumph and Dave Attell.

Just as it doesn't make sense to say Triumph is influenced by the work of Tom Green, it doesn't make sense to state, in any way, that Cohen is continuing Green's work. Green is himself; Cohen plays characters. Green's comedy has no underlying social commentary; Cohen is a satirist.

There are two potential reasons why someone would make such a limited comparison. First, the person doesn't know what the hell he or she is talking about. Second, the person doesn't find Cohen funny or insightful and either wants to use Green's name as an easy way to discredit Cohen or lumps all unfunny comics--from his or her perspective--into the same category (which doesn't necessarily make sense--for example, I don't like Carrot Top or Steve Carell for very different reasons). It's fine to think Cohen is a comedic failure, but it's a mistake to suggest he's not putting as much on the line as Green. And it's also a mistake to dismiss him with a simple "Well, he's so obnoxious" line. No, he plays obnoxious characters, and he does so for a reason. Instead, explain why his characters fail to deliver the satire.

With this logic in mind, I want to briefly analyze Cohen's newest film, "Bruno," and answer a question: Is it relevant or just irreverant? (I'm loosely defining "relevant" as an action that brings about social commentary or satire and "irreverent" as an action that just pisses people off.)

The answer is both. When Bruno pulls his pants down in front of politician Ron Paul, it's irreverent. I can't find any meaningful commentary in this scene other than Paul handling the situation about as well as you can expect.

However, when a disguised Bruno pleases a crowd by chanting ridiculous shit like "Straight Pride" before sending it into a frenzy--complete with a thrown chair and laughable expressions of disappointment--by stripping and kissing another man, it's relevant (and funny). An American crowd cheers when he champions heterosexuality but would have injured or killed the same bastard for stripping and kissing a man if a cage didn't separate spectacle from audience.

Bruno revealing that some parents will put their children through any horrible thing to make money: relevant.

Bruno showing a tape to a focus group that features a penis swinging around and yelling his name: irreverent.

Bruno taking his clothes off and trying to get into a tent with a hunter: irreverent.

Bruno convincing a karate instructor that a homosexual is going to attack him in a number of improbable ways (the last example involves a homosexual attacking him with two dildos and an exposed penis): relevant.

And sometimes an action is both relevant and irreverent. For example, a television audience commends Bruno for being a parent until he mentions that he's gay. This is relevant until Bruno goes out of his way to piss the audience off, with pictures of the baby in a pool with him and other men.

My message here is simple. You don't have to like "Bruno," but approach the material for what it is. It doesn't resemble Tom Green anymore than Triumph the Insult Comic Dog. (Granted, the dog is a puppet, but he is always irreverent, like Green.)

One more thing. While I watched "Bruno," a couple behind me said "That's it" and began to walk out when Bruno dropped his pants in front of Ron Paul. I laughed at them of course, but they soon disturbed me. Halfway down the steps, they called to another party, "Let's go." First, a girl stood up. She looked about 17. Then a shorter boy stood up. OK, he was probably only 13 or 14, but that's not too bad. Then an even shorter boy stood up, perhaps as young as 10. An important thing to keep in mind is that the parents didn't walk out when a penis was talking on the screen.

I'm sure that family has a fascinating future.

(By the way, Cohen's work is most reminiscent of Peter Sellers. The physical comedy [especially the velcro suit scene in "Bruno"]. The multiple accents. The satire. This is what you call solid intel, Mr. President.)

'Star Trek': Captain Jim Hanging from Ledges

2009-06-16T08:30:00.000-07:00

Months ago I did not want to see the new "Star Trek." I've seen most of the films and a few episodes from almost every series, and I like "Star Trek IV" the most because it has the best sense of humor. Director J.J. Abrams seems to have no sense of humor, so I thought avoiding his film would be wise. That was before a multitude of people praised it and got me curious.

Thank Christ for Karl Urban. He plays Bones, the blunt doctor who gives "Star Trek" its humanity, and consider my ass laughed off at Urban's performance.

But Abrams, that vicious bastard, would be damned if Spock and Jim aren't the Humans of "Star Trek." For example, Abrams makes Uhura, the foxy communicator, Spock's girlfriend. Thus, we are supposed to believe Spock is human--even though the two performers have no Chemistry and their relationship has the depth of a mud puddle I pissed in as a child because I wanted it to be bigger.

Oh, and Jim hangs from ledges a lot. But I understand why Abrams uses this device: characterization. Jim is Tough, but he hangs from ledges, so he's an underdog in hard battles, too!

You also see Scotty and Chekov, whose appearances only amplify the silliness of the film, which is fine by me. Too bad Scotty shows up too late, but it's better than watching Spock and Uhura make out just because the director thinks kissing between a Vulcan and Human is deep.

The new music is UNACCEPTABLE. I can't remember any of it, with the exception of a generic "BUM! BUM! BUM!"

Some of you might ask, "Does it stay faithful to the original series, or does it strike a new path?" My answer? I wish it was funnier, so I wish Bones was the doctor AND captain. Why should I care about all this other nerdy bullshit? Make it funnier, you bastards!

Does the movie look good? Yeah, it has good-looking spaceships and laser beams, but I don't jack off to that anymore.

Finally, the villian sucked. Unfunny, uninteresting. Should have had more facetious dialogue. Should have been played by Alan Rickman.

Every movie should have Alan Rickman as a villain.

Can you imagine that? Bones is the captain, and Alan Rickman is the villain. Abrams really needs to get his head out of his ass.

If it seems like I'm pissing on good fun, maybe I am. Or maybe fun equals more humor (think "Star Trek IV") and less gratuitous genocide (think Vulcan and Romulan planets destroyed).

'Ichi the Killer': It's Just Comedic Storytelling

2009-05-21T08:06:00.000-07:00

Takashi Miike is a storyteller. Unfortunately, some critics and viewers seem to want their stories in safe packages. I assume they can handle "The Godfather" despite its violent moments. But a film like "The Godfather" offers characters with redeeming human qualities. That is not a flaw, but it is traditional.

With "Ichi the Killer," Mike's goal is to tell a comedic nontraditional story, and he wants his crew and audience to help make the journey. He can't do it alone. However, some critics dismiss the film as torture of the audience.

But more about that later. You might not know much about Miike. I only knew his filmmaking by reputation for a long time, but hearing about his movies--and their most insane parts--will not give you an accurate understanding of Miike.

"Audition" is perhaps Miike's most well-known film and for great reasons. Its voyeuristic direction is reminiscent of Hitchcock, it has solid and understated characters, and it will make you uncomfortable. Hell, even Rob Zombie was creeped out. I will not reveal anything specific about the film, but I will share a story about myself.

I was at work eating lunch, and I had watched "Audition" the previous night. The movie was still on my mind, so I looked it up on wikipedia. As I read through the synopsis, I came across a detail that almost made me stop eating a tasty sandwich. I had blocked a particular scene from my mind, and the description on wikipedia reminded me why I had done that.

Notwithstanding its disturbing images, "Audition" has characters you can easily understand. The challenge is finishing the film. Do not take this the wrong way. The film does not have gratuitous violence, but it involves one of the most fucked up characters in film history, and you have to watch that person at work. Think Hitchcock's "Frenzy," only more graphic and prolonged.

In contrast, if you can easily understand or identify with characters in "Ichi the Killer," I never want to meet you. Both "Audition" and "Ichi the Killer" have torture, but the torture in the latter didn't faze me as much. Primarily because it's rather cartoony. For example, a man hangs from a ceiling with hooks through the skin of his back and legs, but it is obviously not his skin being pierced. It's disgusting but not realistic in the slightest sense.

The violence in "Ichi the Killer" is over the top and often the result of computer graphics and comedic intentions. Remember that. Comedic intentions. I say this because some critics would recognize a comedic ingredient but still concluded that the film--and Miike--was sadistic.

For instance, Michael W. Phillips Jr.'s review indicates that the film's spraying blood reminds him of "the blood Monty Python used," which should have told him that Miike had comedic intentions. Instead, his conclusion misses the point:

"There are movies that I value that include a lot of sadism and misery, but I have to believe that there's some purpose to it. I couldn't find a purpose here except wallowing in pain and inviting others to partake of it."

The primary purpose is humor. I'm not saying I didn't think "What the fuck?!" several times while watching the movie, but it's clear the violence is humorous, sometimes for its inherent absurdity and sometimes for its mockery of other films.

It's also clear that Miike is exploring the possibilities of storytelling with the violence. Phillips sensed this a little when he discussed the character of Kakihara:

"And there's the somehow amusing thought of being faced by an opponent like Kakihara, the bleach-blonde psychopath in the shiny suits: how do you fight a guy whose pleasure increases the more you hurt him? Punching and kicking seem somehow useless in a situation like that."

But again, his conclusion does not seem to consider the facts: "I think there is a line between depiction and glorification, between exploring sadism and practicing it, and Miike takes a Carl Lewis long jump over that line and doesn't look back." First, Phillips accuses Miike of practicing sadism. My response is that you can turn off the movie whenever you like. Plus, Miike is telling a story anyway. Phillips presents two possibilities, (1) exploring sadism and (2) practicing sadism, but does not consider another possibility: Miike is neither seriously exploring sadism nor practicing it. He is telling an unconventional story that involves sadistic and masochistic characters.

Another critic, Nick Schager, touched on both of my points, but his review doesn't suggest he understood Miike's intentions:

"With slits running from the corners of his mouth out into the middle of his cheeks (the wounds held together only by two ring piercings) and a sexual appetite for S&M-tinged beatings, Asano's Kakihara is a demonic monster whose moral vacuity is simultaneously frightening and comical. He's not enough to elevate the pointless Ichi the Killer into something worthwhile, but his extreme indecency does make the endless degeneracy slightly more bearable."

I don't understand Schager's logic. He is basically saying that the most depraved character in the film makes the depravity more bearable. Not only do I find this claim illogical, but I disagree with its implications. Kakihara should not have any bearing on one's viewpoint of the degeneracy. Degeneracy is degeneracy. The important factors are the tone of the film and the intent of its director. The tone is comical, and the director is telling a story. Therefore, the degeneracy can be accepted as part of the humor and story. Again, what's so pointless about humor and telling a different story?

Humor is pointless if it is not ironic. I don't think anyone could claim that "Ichi the Killer" is not full of irony. It might not be congruent with your tastes, but the irony certainly exists.

A story is pointless if you do not understand the sequence of events and the characters. And honestly, this is where I can agree with Schager. The film can be quite hard to follow, but then again, I've only watched it once. The marketing didn't help, either. Kakihara's face is featured on the DVD cover, and for at least 40 minutes I kept assuming he was also known as Ichi.

But the characters make sense, as long as you aren't looking for an insightful lesson from them. That's part of the problem I have with the reviews by Phillips and Schager. They aren't judging the film on its own merits so much as lamenting the fact that it doesn't contain social commentary to slice up and analyze. It's akin to dismissing "Airplane!" because it doesn't address the political environment of 1980. Judge it by the jokes, not by the deep conversations you could have had with friends if the film had done this and that.

Kakihara seems to be a character anyone can appreciate on at least a superficial level, so I will explore his motivations before closing. Kakihara's boss has been killed and robbed, and he wants to find the culprit. Thus, he tortures a member of another clan that he believes has a lead on the killer. When Kakihara realizes he is wrong, he cuts off part of his own tongue as a political apology. Kakihara soon learns about Ichi's destructive spree, and because Kakihara would love nothing more than a severe beating for pleasure, he becomes obsessed with the prospect of fighting Ichi. He finally faces Ichi on a rooftop, but the fight is a fluke. So Kakihara sticks pins deep into his ears out of frustration. He apparently damages his brain because he hallucinates and finds one of Ichi's blades sinking into his forehead, and Kakihara falls to his death, happy and satisfied.

That is a funny and unconventional ending for a character if you ask me. How did Miike present it? In a commentary track, Miike said he only directed the camera angles for that sequence. Everything else--the duration of the shots, the positioning of the characters, the acting, etc.--was under the control of his cast and crew, and they didn't revise their instincts. Miike explained that one possibility is more special than many possibilities.

After that, it's all up to us to laugh and enjoy the ride.

'JCVD' is a damn good time, 'The 400 Blows' does not blow, and Tarantino refuses to admit he made a mistake.

2009-05-04T08:13:00.000-07:00

Nothing like a ridiculous title to illustrate that I don't know how to focus anymore.

But we're going to get through this. Let's start with Francois Truffaut's "The 400 Blows," which I finished last night after stopping it about five times. It is said to be Truffaut's greatest film and perhaps the main staple of French New Wave. I can't confirm the former claim because I had only seen "The Wild Child" before watching "The 400 Blows." (I wrote an entry about it here, complete with a pretentious comparison to David Lynch's "The Elephant Man.)

Honestly, I enjoyed my first viewing of "The Wild Child" more, but there is undeniable power in "The 400 Blows," however quiet that power is. As I said, I stopped the film several times to do other things before returning to it. Why? Because the film was asking too much of me. The story involves a young boy who gets into too much trouble ... he is certainly a misbehaving little bastard ... but adults--his parents, teachers, etc.--treat him like a monster. That's a tough thing to enjoy, and Truffaut doesn't gloss it up one bit, though he throws in a few clever and funny moments.

As I observed in "The Wild Child," Truffaut utilizes a detached, almost scientific perspective in "The 400 Blows," and he expects the viewer to take in the facts and arrive at a humane conclusion. This fascinating technique has worked twice on me, but again, if you don't bring a heart to either of these films, you're going to dismiss both as Tales of Bratty Children.

There is one interesting difference between "The Wild Child" and "The 400 Blows." The kid in the former is a heathen of the woods, yet adults are willing to help him--they don't want him in a cage. The kid in the latter is a heathen of society, yet adults are unwilling to help him--they want him in a cage.

But enough serious talk ... "JCVD" is a silly and intelligent ride. Not only can Van Damme act, but he can make you feel for him. I'm not going to say much else about "JCVD" other than these points:

1. If you haven't watched any Van Damme movies, don't bother watching this now. Go watch "Bloodsport," "Kickboxer," and "Lionheart." Then watch this.

2. If you take this film too seriously and miss the point, shame on you. I'll admit the pacing could have been better, but the payoff is worth it. Christ, it's only a little more than 90 minutes.

3. This isn't another "Being John Malkovich." If you dismiss it with this faulty intel, you are a liar and possibly a sexual deviant, Mr. President.

And now, the big headline: ADMIT YOUR HORRIBLE MISTAKE, TARANTINO. Yeah, I have all your movies on DVD (and I've probably lost credibility now, but fuck it), and I have defended your ridiculous ass on many occasions (and will continue to do so when appropriate), and I am going to watch "Inglourious Basterds" (and I wish everyone would stop whining about the misspellings ... Jeezus Christus, why take obvious bait?).

But your claim from this article is pathetic and stupid:

‘‘Fahrenheit 9/11.’’ You know what? As time has gone on, I’ve put that decision under a microscope and I still think we were right. That was a movie of the moment — ‘‘Fahrenheit 9/11’’ may not play the same way now as it did then, but back then it deserved everything it got.

- Quentin Tarantino, on the decision to give "Fahrenheit 9/11" the Palme d'Or in 2004

First, let me clarify something. I don't give a shit about what movie wins the Palme d'Or. "Freddy Got Fingered" could have won it one year. I have no idea.

But Tarantino is simply wrong. Yeah, he's been a douchebag plenty of times, but he usually knows how to make a point. Here, he doesn't even attempt to make a point. He says "magnifying glass," but if he would take a close look at "Fahrenheit 9/11," he would know it's garbage filmmaking. It's not even consistently entertaining. A chunk of the movie is essentially a mother whining about her dead son who signed up to die. Not only is it a ridiculously overlong appeal to pity, but it's something I never want to watch in the first place. And guess what Tarantino could have voted for? "Oldboy," one of the most groundbreaking and exciting films of the decade.

OK, OK, so I'm bitchy. But I simply detest arguments that praise "Fahrenheit 9/11" like an unfortunate junkie rejoicing over a cure for AIDS.

John Woo's 'The Killer': What happened to dude's arm?

2009-04-01T07:16:00.000-07:00

Given the date, I have to waste at least a sentence to say this entry isn't an April Fool's Joke. Which gives me a reason to waste a paragraph for a quick deranged story. I was very young, maybe 11 or 12, and I thought I had a great April Fool's Joke: wake up my mother and tell her my sister had been hit by a truck. I still hate my younger, immature self for this ploy because I'm sure my mother couldn't rest this morning. If an April Fool's Joke is measured by how much you fuck with a person's mind, I scored a big one. I'm done with the shit, and before I leave this matter, fuck your Web sites today. I hope you lose readers, you annoying badgers!

I rewatched John Woo's "The Killer" Sunday with a friend who had not seen it. His reactions to the out-of-control gunfights reminded me of my amazement years ago when I first rented the VHS from Blockbuster. I would go on to rent the VHS five or six times. Then something happened that I will never forget: Blockbuster began selling all of its video tapes. I own the very VHS that changed the way I look at action films. (However, my friend and I watched the DVD, a gift from my mother, God Bless Her Poor Soul Today.)

The violence in "The Killer" is hard to capture with writing. It is silly, extravagant, staged, funny, emotional, and ultimately captivating. Chow Yun-Fat, whose varied facial expressions are a treasure, is the killer. He shoots men as many as 10 times with his two .45s in case the first shot to the head isn't enough. He doesn't seem to reload often enough, but the bullets fly anyway. The way he shoots people are almost stories by themselves. The killer dispatches one man by firing into the legs, the man eventually falling to his knees for a final hole at the bottom of his neck. Another man pumps a shotgun as the killer stomps the end of a table to pop a revolver into his hand for two shots into the man's chest.

And then there's the scene where the killer stops a jeep beside a car. The main villain opens a back door of the car to lean out, and the killer blows the main villain's Entire Fucking Arm off with a hand cannon resulting in a lurid black spray.

Here's the mystery. It is obvious to anyone that the Entire Fucking Arm fell off the man's body like a rotted log. But the main villain continues to have that arm in the film. He continues to fire weapons with the arm. He even presses a gun to the forehead of a hostage with that arm, the sick lucky bastard.

The DVD has a commentary track with John Woo. Excited, I skip to the scene in question for insight on the arm. With slow English, Woo discusses the relationship between the killer and his best friend while the violence occurs.

I was disappointed initially. But upon reflection, it's better this way. The arm completely fucks the continuity of the film, but so do the endless bullets and sparse reloads. It's a humorous and impressive move by Woo, and an explanation would cheapen the laughs and shock. Perhaps this is the reason P.T. Anderson has refused to do a commentary track for "There Will Be Blood." Maybe it's the reason David Lynch only says "Inland Empire" is about a woman in trouble.

It is definitely the reason I am smiling on April Fool's Day.

Why the hell do I like 'Slumdog Millionaire'?

2009-03-02T11:13:00.000-08:00

I dislike it when new movies end with people dancing (I don't mind ironic cases: "Inland Empire" and "Tropic Thunder") because the idea exemplifies cliched filmmaking.

I watch "Slumdog Millionaire" with my mom and friend. The story is over. I am ready to leave my seat and walk down the steps and hope that people don't lumber like stupid cattle. But there's more than credits on the screen. People are dancing, including the two main characters. Everyone in the theater stops. I can't leave.

Later, I have a discussion with another friend about the film. I point out the lame dancing, and he says, "But that's Bollywood."

Fuck it.

(Note: I talked with my Indian co-worker about dancing in Bollywood films. He said people are very entertained by dancing in India, and sometimes audience members even dance in the theater themselves.)

Notwithstanding that I could not easily leave the theater because of an annoying tradition, I liked "Slumdog Millionaire." Director Danny Boyle goes wild with the flashbacks, but I never felt lost. The cinematography is wonderful at times. Anil Kapoor's role as the host of "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?" deserved an Oscar nomination. And A.R. Rahman's music amazed me.

But the dancing isn't the only thing I found troubling.

While the direction is great for the most part, Boyle sometimes displays tendencies in line with Michael Bay, quickly cutting from shot to shot as if he's in a competition for most shots within one minute.

While the protagonist's brother is essential to the story's development, he is wasted about halfway through when he unbelievably becomes Scarface within a few minutes and sticks a gun in his sibling's face.

While the audience got a big laugh out of a kid covered in human shit, I didn't. (Although the scene is more innocent than what my statement would imply.)

While the music kicked ass, the film often struck me as five or six music videos strung together.

For almost every good thing about "Slumdog Millionaire," I can come up with a counterpoint.

Why the hell do I like it? Manipulation. The film just knows how to make you like it. It lays the foundation with an underdog character, frames the story within an entertaining modern game show, utilizes Freida Pinto's beauty for all its worth ("I just looked her up on wikipedia, and she was born ONLY a month before me!"), and includes colored boxes for subtitles.

Colored boxes for subtitles, that's why I like the film, goddamn it.

'Duck, You Sucker!' blew me away because it's about dynamite and explosions and shit blowing up.

2009-02-09T07:26:00.000-08:00

In case you're wondering what the hell I'm writing about, "Duck, You Sucker!" is a spaghetti western directed by Sergio Leone. If you don't know anything about Leone ("The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly" and "Once Upon a Time in the West"), then shame on you, Mr. President. You have neglected your duties long enough.

(Note: You are not allowed to read anymore of this blog entry until you watch some of Leone's films.)

Alrighty, there's another potentially confusing thing I need to address. This film is also known as "A Fistful of Dynamite." "Duck, You Sucker!" was Leone's preference, but the studios changed the title to "A Fistful of Dynamite," hoping to attract audiences who watched "A Fistful of Dollars." And yes, "Duck, You Sucker!" is said a few times during the movie, but James Coburn doesn't overdo it.

Fuck! I don't feel like I've said anything substantial yet.

Alrighty, so one might think that this is a silly comedic western with a title like "Duck, You Sucker!" And honestly, it feels silly for a while. The beginning of the film is essentially Coburn the Irish dynamite expert and Rod Steiger the Mexican hoodlum flirting with each other, albeit dangerously. Steiger shoots Coburn's bike tire. Coburn blows a hole through Steiger's stagecoach. Etc. This mating ritual is similar to how Clint Eastwood and Eli Wallach treated each other in "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly," only more suggestive. Yeah, Eastwood and Wallach were flirting in that film, but they almost killed each other. Coburn and Steiger would never take That Risk, or at least that's the impression I got.

And the music is silly for a while, too, which is not the norm for Ennio Morricone. In fact, I sort of hated the music until the last third of the film, when the tone of the music is juxtaposed against some disturbing and weird flashbacks. Thank the living Christ it finally suited my ears because I've never disliked a Morricone score.

The second half of the film is clearly stronger than the first, mainly because the characters finally come into their own. Steiger's character is pretty much Wallach's "The Ugly" before The Significant Event That Changes Him. Leone's camerawork during The Significant Event is devastatingly great. At that point, you realize he's not simply fucking around with a colloquialism.

Coburn's character is explored throughout the film in flashbacks, but it's not until the second half that they get juicy. Of course, flashbacks were also used in "The Wild Bunch" to develop characters, but Sam Peckinpah doesn't make you wait for the meat. Leone is a completely different mammal. He wants you to wait for Everything. But without patience, Leone would be nothing. There's just something so damned interesting about watching two characters look at each other for minutes in silence.

The message is watch this immediately, but only if you're familiar with Leone's filmography. I can't see someone appreciating this one too much without some knowledge of spaghetti westerns. Just remember to get the collector's edition DVD at 157 minutes and prepare your ass for a long sit.

The Oscar Nominations Are Out, and It Seems I Must Slap My Grandmother.

2009-01-23T07:18:00.000-08:00

I was surprised and giddy and thankful to find Robert Downey Jr. nominated for Best Supporting Actor. If you read the last paragraph of my "Tropic Thunder" review, you'll notice two things:

(1) An explanation of why Downey Jr. is brilliant.

(2) Doubt that the Academy would ever recognize Downey Jr. for his work. The specific comment: "It is highly unlikely Downey will get an Oscar nomination for this performance, but I would slap my grandmother if it would get him a nod."

No, I did not slap my grandmother, but maybe I owe her one.

For your official records, here is a list of the Oscar nominations. There has been a lot of savage weeping online about "The Dark Knight" being snubbed. It's not in the Best Picture or Best Director lists, and this fact causes Pain to shoot into people's Groins.

I'm glad Heath Ledger was nominated, as my "Dark Knight" review was totally dedicated to his manipulation of the audience and menacing effort. But I will not sob about any snubbing.

You might be disappointed that "The Dark Knight" wasn't nominated for Best Picture or Best Director, but it doesn't deserve either, Mr. President. Here is the intel:

1. Maggie Gyllenhaal's performance was flaccid, and her cheeks are too fucking monstrous. But I won't put all the blame on her because her character never had anything going for it. Childhood friend, sweet lawyer, shaking her head back and forth while she talks to Bruce Wayne. Jesus Christ, no film deserves Best Picture or Best Director with a savagely uncreative beast like that.

2. Christian Bale's Batman is a Sissy attempting to hide his tears by speaking in the lowest, brawniest voice he can muster behind his pathetic hyperventilation and disposition to panic attacks. This is not how a knight speaks.

3. The Nolan brothers can't incorporate themes into a script without having characters indicate that the themes are indeed there. What the fuck is this, Bible school?

The final line of the film:

Gordon (Gary Oldman): Because he's the hero Gotham deserves, but not the one it needs right now. So we'll hunt him because he can take it. Because he's not our hero. He's a silent guardian, a watchful protector. A dark knight.

God bless Oldman for going through with That Shit.

The truth is that eight nominations for a comic book film is a huge achievement, and that's all it deserves, friendz.

'Gran Torino': Race and Religion in the Theater

2009-01-12T08:13:00.000-08:00

I had never heard so many different racial slurs in one sitting, barring that one George Carlin routine about how bad language is bullshit. The first instance occurs when Clint Eastwood opens his door and finds a Chinese boy standing on his porch. "Zipperhead" is fired from Eastwood's mouth before he shuts the door.

I wasn't counting the slurs, but I remember the audience laughing the most when Eastwood directed his anger toward a group of three young black men.

But hell, I thought Eastwood was funny, too. But when Racism is involved, an important distinction is whether you are laughing at something fucked up or laughing because you are fucked up.

OK, sermon over. I have no right to make assumptions about white people in a Mississippi theater.

Speaking of sermons, I felt like I was leaving church when I made my way to the exit. I saw young adults, middle-aged folk, and senior citizens--and what seemed to be children standing around the very front row. And most people looked solemn and respectful. Eastwood got his guts blown out, which gave me a feeling similar to when I watched John Wayne die in "The Cowboys" (two death spoilers in one sentence, OUCH). But the other audience members. Looking at their faces, it would seem they had watched Christ die.

But who better to worship than Eastwood? "Gran Torino" was a straightforward story, even cliched. But the man with slits for eyes and the warmest scowl made it special.

Jesus, Eastwood, don't let it be your last one. You wrinkled old cracker.

Second Viewing of 'Burn After Reading' Exposes Me As a Fool with No Sense of Humor

2008-12-28T09:14:00.001-08:00

Second viewings should be a fear of anyone who writes about movies. Not in the sense that you should be frightened of watching a film twice. But a second viewing can give you a better idea of what you think about a film, and sometimes your opinion can change drastically.

Months ago I reviewed the Coen brothers' 2008 comedy "Burn After Reading" and implied the idiotic characters of the film were not as entertaining as those found in "Fargo" and others. (I also used a pretentious Fellini reference like a Whore.)

Well Mr. President, I was wrong. I fucked up on that intel.

Throughout my second viewing of "Burn After Reading," I found myself laughing considerably more. I could easily watch it again. Yeah, I still think Swinton was weak, and it's nothing that original for the Coens. But it is insane and well crafted, just like that Dildo Machine.

Same thing happened years ago with "The Big Lebowski." I thought the characters were too contrived, so I kept missing the punchlines.

OK, I'm cutting out the confessions. I can forgive you for thinking I was a dumbass if you can forgive me for being one.

No, no, no. No need for formal apologies and mercy and grace. This is getting shameful and Pathetic.

(And hot damn! "Burn After Reading" made it to DVD quick, my friends!)

I do not get it, Spielberg.

2008-12-09T06:55:00.000-08:00

I do not get it, Spielberg.

Your wallet is already Immense, so maybe you just wanted to play with George. If that is the case, I am disappointed in you and I wish that goddamn robot shark had worked and given your first blockbuster less of a suspenseful and horrifying Grip.

Fuck man. The same year you take the Third Risk in your life, you serve a bogus and inconsistent H.G. Wells family drama instead of ... well, I'm convinced the movie would have sucked no matter what.

"At least I don't do shitty special effects" is an old excuse you cunning bastard--and one that no longer is the truth. Those goddamn gophers you let George shove into an Orifice ... we all saw that in May.

You are in TROUBLE. Get it together or the respect you earned will be gone. You had better not Fuck Up our 16th President.

JP, a sometimes Spielberg defender

Consistently Absurd: 'Fando y Lis'

2008-11-19T10:45:00.000-08:00

Because I am a manic collector, some of my happiest dreams involve finding films that I would never see in Mississippi stores. And when I wake up, I'm pissed at my teasing mind.

Last weekend I was in Princeton and visited an establishment not unlike those in my dreams. Elusive films at reasonable prices. I was tempted to throw hundreds of dollars on the counter like a fiend, but I decided only one purchase was enough: an Alejandro Jodorowsky collection.

Having seen "El Topo," I decided to hold off on "The Holy Mountain" and watch Jodorowsky's first feature length film, "Fando y Lis."

Months ago I wrote that "El Topo" was a mindfucker but a positive experience. True, I had to view it again to really get it, but from the beginning I knew I would be able to decipher its secrets.

Not so with "Fando y Lis." I may never be satisfied with it. Initially I felt confident, looking at the back of the DVD and spotting the 96-minute running time, almost a half hour shorter than the confounding "El Topo." But that bastard Jodorowsky was particularly absurd in 1967. I would never spoil "El Topo," but I am fed up with Jodorowsky's psychological bullshit, so stop reading if you don't want any rash spoilers.

I understand the General Story. Fando and Lis are a couple searching for Tar, a legendary city they believe will cure the crippled Lis. Throughout the film, Fando gives into frustration and abuses Lis but soon apologizes and the two travel on. In the final act Fando goes too far and kills Lis. He lies by her grave in mourning so long that ivy overtakes him, and you see Lis escape the ground and scurry off, naked and happy. The straightforward message? Fando was a depraved dick, and Lis was only happy after death. The search for Tar should have been an Unnecessary Endeavor if the two loved each other.

The only reason the description above makes sense is that I have edited out the numerous vague and insane events of the film. "El Topo" is wacky but never boring, and its various chapters add up despite the weirdness. Sometimes, "Fando y Lis" is unentertaining drivel.

But it's hard not to admire Jodorowsky's willingness to do anything. In a flashback, we see Lis as a child chased by adult male perverts. They finally catch her and lie down beside her. You never see literal molestation. Instead, Jodorowsky cuts to male hands squeezing eggs until they crack and seep yoke. The writer/director delves into uncomfortable territory but pulls back and yet retains the wretchedness of the moment.

And as a Fellini fan, I enjoyed how Jodorowsky takes the surreal scene from 8 1/2--where Marcello Mastroianni dominates women with a whip--and turns it around, this time with the male, Fando, being whipped by a female as other women toss bowling balls at him.

And some people call Jodorowsky a misogynist.

(A Final Note: The DVD transfer of "Fando y Lis" is flawed. Lis's whiteness was Blinding, and other images are mysteries. My vision has worsened over the last year, but the contrast on this DVD was Disturbingly Abnormal.)

'The Wild Child,' Philosophy and Science and Heart

2008-10-30T07:47:00.000-07:00

"The Wild Child" is my first exposure to Francois Truffaut and French New Wave. (Yeah, I'm behind, but I live in Mississippi and don't find online rental services that appealing.) Before going any further, let's not confuse this film with the upcoming "Wild Child," which appears to tell the story of a spoiled bitch who trashes her dad's girlfriend's stuff and is sent to boarding school in England for more bitchy adventures before the epiphanic "Hey, I'm a stupid bitch" occurs and her heart is purified and she and a group of new friends jump into an ocean. I apologize in advance if I spoiled a potential experience for you.

But back to Truffaut's movie. It reminds me of "The Elephant Man," which was released a decade later. Both films raise the question, What makes a human? Of course, the protagonist of each film is seen as inhuman for very different reasons. The Elephant Man is a disfigured circus freak, so his appearance is the perceived shortcoming. But when that film concludes, we see him as a human. We learn he can recite Shakespeare, that he understands our social norms, that he wishes to sleep on his back without suffocating.

With the forest boy in "The Wild Child," his appearance isn't what raises the question, especially after he is taken in and cleaned up by a doctor (portrayed well by Truffaut himself). But his behavior is that of an ape. As you watch the boy relax his savage gait and learn words, you see a human finally taking shape ...

But wasn't he already human? What the hell would we be doing if not for socialization?

The Elephant Man's big line, delivered beautifully by John Hurt, was "I am not an animal! I am a human being!" If The Wild Child could talk, his line would be "I am not a human being! I am an animal!"

Along with the philosophical element, there's a lot to appreciate in the "The Wild Child." Truffaut puts the outmoded iris shot to effective use. (I could not find a helpful page on the iris shot. It is simply a fade involving a circle. So if it is a fade out, the screen shrinks into a circle. This technique was invented by Billy Bitzer, who worked with D.W. Griffith.) Jean-Pierre Cargol is believable as the jungle boy, definitely one of the greatest child performances I've seen. The film can also feel like a scientific exercise, as the majority is dedicated to the doctor testing the boy and writing in a journal.

But you've gotta have a heart while watching this movie. That's the only way it can be fully appreciated. Otherwise, it could be seen as a pointless story about a stubborn doctor tampering with an idiot kid.

'W.': Oliver Stone on a Needed Leash

2008-10-19T16:22:00.000-07:00

I was afraid my friends would abandon me when I told them I wanted to see Oliver Stone's "W." (Somehow I got three people to go with me.) And I read all the bullshit. Some Democrats thought Stone was too soft on Bush. Some Republicans thought he was too harsh on Bush. The majority of comments I read about "W." stemmed from the commentators' own previous evaluations of the president. In other words, they weren't talking about the movie but sharing their better wisdom.

Rolling Stone movie critic Peter Traver's review puzzled me. He implies the film has no balls, that Stone censors himself. But isn't the opposite Stone's fucking problem? I don't know about Travers, but the last thing I needed in "W." was Stone's balls. The director has a serious illness of letting things go too far, not being able to pace a film, his completely insane tendencies hanging over the viewer's head like 20 savage dicks ready to pound one person's face. I wonder if any humans can watch "JFK," "U Turn," "Any Given Sunday," and "Alexander" in a marathon of madness and come out of the experience without feeling like an elephant hasn't defiled them.

Not counting his documentaries (I haven't seen any of them), this is Stone's second restrained film in a row, though no form of desperation has yet led me to view Nicolas Cage among the wreckage of "World Trade Center." Like the overlooked 1987 film, "Talk Radio" (highly recommended), "W." is short on preaching and therefore actually enjoyable.

The cast is the drawing point. Josh Brolin was the reason I gave the film a chance, and he nails another great good ole boy performance (the other being his role in "No Country For Old Men"). Brolin's portrayal of Bush isn't copycat acting. It's surprising how much dimension he brings to a character we thought we knew. James Cromwell does the same for George H. W. Bush, and when Brolin and Cromwell share the screen, the film really works. The other cast members range from appropriate (Richard Dreyfuss as Dick Cheney) to disturbingly accurate (Thandie Newton as Condoleeza Rice).

Ultimately, the film still needs editing. Stone's baseball metaphor grows tiring, the movie sometimes trudges through boring muck, and you still get a few of the director's trademark in-your-fuckin'-face camera angles (though a couple of them are appropriate). But if you don't take yourself or politics too seriously, W. is a pleasant comedic drama.

The Tension of 'sex, lies, and videotape'

2008-10-14T19:25:00.000-07:00

Director/writer Steven Soderbergh is a guy I thought I knew. "Out of Sight." "Ocean's Eleven." "Traffic." "The Good German." They all pointed to a filmmaker with a slick eye. You could see all he had to offer, the style sometimes excessive.

Different story for his debut, "sex, lies, and videotape." The charm of this 1989 picture is not visual slickness but an underlying tension, ranging from awkwardness to innocence to depravity. The feeling can be as understated as the clamor of utensils at the dinner table. There is something wrong, a deranged secret to be told.

The film makes you feel dirty but never resorts to nudity. The sex is suggested, no simulation. You want it to go further, but Soderbergh keeps a distant angle, appropriate considering that the strange and aloof James Spader is his lead character. (The movie also has a few odd laughs, a completely different sort than what you could get from "Ocean's Eleven" or "Erin Brockovich" or, hell, the majority of films that may make you laugh.)

More than halfway through the movie, I arrived at the idea that sex is not necessarily the physical act but a conversation revealing the flawed past of a person, a burst of frightening honesty. And perhaps it is a lie to say otherwise.

But that's masturbation on my part. If you have yet to feel during a Soderbergh film, I think his first feature will take care of that.

(And like me, you might wish the bastard would make more films like this instead of sequels to a heist/comedy remake.)

'The Straight Story,' There's a Gentleness About It

2008-09-17T19:59:00.000-07:00

David Lynch, we know him for the rum "Mulholland Dr." and "Blue Velvet," maybe "The Elephant Man" and others for some viewers. You hear about "The Straight Story," G-rated and Disney. But its opening scene is not indicative of what we normally associate with Lynch or tame family films. Maybe at first the director is up to his weird play, when we hear a sound from inside a house, obviously a person hitting the floor, and Lynch pans away to focus on an unhealthy old woman stretched out on a cheap lawnchair. The scene suggests natural death that no one wants to think about.

An old man had fallen in the house. In the next scene, we see him on his back on the floor, and he's fine. Just needs help getting up. His daughter comes in and starts to freak out. It's funny because of the relief. You know the old bastard is fine.

The old man learns his brother had a stroke more than a couple of hundred miles away. The man's hips aren't hardly worth nothing. He can't drive to his brother in a car. But he tries with a riding lawnmower. It breaks down. He has to go back. He buys another lawnmower, a John Deere one. And you watch him leave his daughter behind again.

He meets a lot of people on the way and at one point notices a stream of younger people on bicycles and he pulls his lawnmower off the road and watches the alien crew zip in front of him and onward, they are passing him, an old man off the road. He watches their youth pass him.

There's a gentleness about it.

'Burn After Reading': Insert Stupid Play On Words Here

2008-09-13T07:34:00.000-07:00

The Coen brothers' latest film does not suffer from a comparison to their previous masterpiece, "No Country For Old Men." "Burn After Reading" is a different kind of movie but an obvious entry from the Coens. I cannot remember who used the term, but "deranged film noir" seems to be the most accurate way to describe it and its predecessors: "Fargo," "The Big Lebowski," and "The Man Who Wasn't There."

The biggest flaw of "Burn After Reading" is its contrived idiotic characters. Nothing wrong with idiotic characters as the Coens have proved, but whereas the characters in "The Big Lebowski" were lovable and worth quoting, they rarely come to life in "Burn After Reading."

Most of the film seemed like the Coens were making it up as they went along. If you watch the extras on the "No Country For Old Men" DVD, it is very clear the Coens are directors known for knowing exactly what they want. Many of their pictures can be absurd, but the absurdity is controlled and crafted into something viewers can understand and enjoy.

There is not a lot of direction in "Burn After Reading." I was impressed by much of the cinematography and other technicalities, but the substantive aspects were thrown together. You can tell the picture was rushed, especially when you think about the awkward self-referencing ending as you leave the theater. Brad Pitt manages to energize the movie when he is on the screen, but most of the cast is lost or unused. Tilda Swinton is the worst case of the latter. She adds absolutely nothing to the film, and I cannot blame her. Her dialogue is forced and lacks vitality. She was a puppet without great puppeteers, to reference the words of Federico Fellini.

Perhaps the saddest moment of my experience was that I found myself laughing more at a particular audience member. He was sitting in the center of the theater, and his laugh was like the ridiculous call of an extinct bird. That weird bastard was more entertaining than a lot of "Burn After Reading," although I am sure he would disagree with this evaluation given his frequent squawking.

I have made this film sound pretty bad, but it isn't. It is alright, better than "Intolerable Cruelty" and "The Ladykillers" but not quite as capable as "The Man Who Wasn't There." It is well shot and offers a few surprises and jokes that I would have probably spoiled if the movie were better.

And of course, the Coens will have another chance next year, when their next movie, "A Serious Man," is released.

'Death Sentence': An Unlikely Primer.

2008-09-02T08:03:00.000-07:00

So the first question I would have reading this title would be: Why the hell did you bother with yet another vigilante flick?

The answer is sometimes you need to watch anything to come back to film. Before Labor Day weekend, I was tired of movies. I would put a disc in the player, watch up to half of the film, and stop.

I wake up Sunday morning. Flip through about 50 movie channels. I land on "Knocked Up," the Judd Apatow film all my friends told me to see. I decide to watch it. I never had any real interest in it, but I didn't have anything else to do. Just watch a movie, I thought.

A trend started. I hit up "An Inconvenient Truth" on another movie channel, notwithstanding my distaste for most American politicians and whatever their activities might be.

Finally, "Death Sentence" happened to me, just like a car wreck would.

Ask many critics/viewers to name the best film from these disparate three, and most will say either "Knocked Up" or "An Inconvenient Truth"--and you would be lucky to get some people to shut up about those two as well. (And ultimately, it is fine if you want to blather about them. Talk to me and you will likely remember the term "Oldboy" for quite some time.)

I have to be candid. "Death Sentence" is technically the worst film of the three, but I would watch it first if I had to choose. Despite numerous problems, it reinvigorated my passion for film. Maybe "Knocked Up" and "An Inconvenient Truth" are more consistent, but they don't have a shot this well done.

They also don't have a performance as crushing as Kevin Bacon's, who makes the film too hard to watch. The best summation I can give of "Death Sentence" is that it is an action movie that will not let you enjoy the blood. And before you think that is a good thing, it isn't. The film doesn't work on any level. It's not a good drama because it's too exploitative. It's not a good action flick because it's too depressing. (It's not good unintentional comedy, either. Some critics said otherwise, and I hope I never have to meet the depraved bastards. These critics need "Bloodsport" as a reference.)

Yet I am primed. "Death Sentence" was fascinating enough to get me back to film and updating this damn blog.

(A quick note: James Wan directed "Death Sentence." Same guy who did the first "Saw" movie. If you watch "Death Sentence" closely, you will see a picture of Billy, the stupid puppet from the "Saw" series.)

'Tropic Thunder': It Features a Child Firing a Bazooka

2008-08-15T13:14:00.000-07:00

"Tropic Thunder" was scheduled to start at 7:25 p.m., but I walked in around 7:27, just in time to catch the last 20 seconds of the "Max Payne" trailer. A video game movie trailer, no matter how short, is a depressing way to kick off a theatrical experience.

A few minutes later, I thought we as a country were fucked. A rapper was advertising a drink called Booty Sweat with women showing their skin and enough horrid dancing to kill my hope for today's wayward youth. Why didn't these vicious bastards show off the product before the trailers?, I thought. Then I heard the rapper's name: Al Pacino. What the hell. He commenced to jabber on and on about how he loved "Pussy." I laughed, I had been duped, and this kind of outrage set the tone for the following 100+ minutes.

I had been introduced to the fictional actor Alpa Cino, played by actor/comedian Brandon T. Jackson, someone I hope to see more of. Three more trailers presented the other "stars" of the "movie" (this metatextual drivel is confusing here but straightforward when you see it): Tug Speedman (Ben Stiller), Jeff Portnoy (Jack Black), and Kirk Lazarus (Robert Downey Jr.).

That was the biggest surprise: four trailers being the actual beginning of the film. The second biggest surprise, occurring as I recovered from laughing so much throughout "Tropic Thunder," was revealed with the first closing credit: "Directed by Ben Stiller." In contrast to my initial reaction to the Booty Sweat trailer, I felt hope after that credit. If Stiller, utterly flaccid after the terrible "The Heartbreak Kid," can direct a reasonably intelligent comedy, we can fix the education system. We can.

(I don't feel like I need to write anything else but will confirm that Downey Jr. is a freak. He nails playing an Australian actor playing a black man. Downey's role called for him to satirize method acting by method acting, and this accomplishment solidifies him as one of the best actors in the world. It is highly unlikely Downey will get an Oscar nomination for this performance, but I would slap my grandmother if it would get him a nod.)

'The Lives of Others': A Bald Man Can Smile

2008-08-10T12:30:00.000-07:00

As a friend said to me recently, it is hard to get excited about watching a two and a half hour movie involving the Stasi. After finishing "The Lives of Others," the debut of German director Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, it is hard to get excited about writing this entry, but I have not been updating as often as I promised and this is the only film I have seen this week.

"The Lives of Others" is a great and unsettling movie, but the material is very dull on paper. So why in God's name did I watch it? Because "Pan's Labyrinth" lost Best Foreign Language Film to it, and I wanted to see whether the Academy blundered as usual or if "The Lives of Others" had any merit.

It took me a long time to sit down and watch the movie, much less pick it up. Reading the plot description on its DVD case in a rental store brought up a troubling question: what poor bastard had to watch the movie in order to write this description? The last thing I wanted was to end up like that writer, too bored to do his job anymore.

I also do not want you to end up like me. I almost did not put the DVD in my player because some people were stubborn enough to mention the story, virtually impossible to render into interesting language. Another futile attempt would torture you and me and give this movie an even smaller pool of potential viewers.

Perhaps the best approach here is to casually remark on a few seemingly random pieces of fascination within "The Lives of Others." A fat bald politician pulls down his embarrassing underwear to force himself on a writer's insecure girlfriend. A bald play director commits suicide and inspires an article that tangles the collective panties of the East Germany government. And the Main Bald Man finally smiles after frowning so much.

The bottom line is baldies drive the story of "The Lives of Others," and you will not find a more enticing comment than that.

'El Topo,' or When Confusion Is Delightful

2008-08-01T13:49:00.000-07:00

Here to be divulged is my reaction after seeing Alejandro Jodorowsky's 1970 film "El Topo" the first time. Notwithstanding my love for spoilers evident from previous entries, I serve you by withholding details (hence, no wikipedia link for the movie itself). I was delighted to be confused. I will say this much. Both for its protagonist and whoever watches it, a large part of "El Topo" is not finding the way, not stumbling near understanding, being blinded by the sun.

A thought followed after watching the film. That "El Topo" was David Lynch before David Lynch. But having recovered from confoundment, I am not sure I can agree with myself.

With his trademark abstractness, Lynch utilizes not knowing for mood. This can be frightening as anyone with "Inland Empire," Lynch's most abstract film, checked off his or her to-see list will attest.

Jodorowsky has another mind game. Not to say mood does not come into play during "El Topo," but the film does not feed as heavily on it as Lynch's pictures. "El Topo" affects you more after you watch it than it does during its two hours.

The confusion inherent in much of Lynch's work gets me talking. Hey there, were you freaked out, did bunnies doing the family sitcom show up in your nightmares? I simply look back at the experience.

After "El Topo," I am looking at the future. What is coming. What I may not ever understand.

And one other thing. A concern of mine and many others I assume: is "El Topo" a western? Not really, but any genre should be proud of being confused with it.

'The X-Files: I Want to Believe' But Cannot

2008-07-26T19:42:00.000-07:00

To be honest, I feel slightly foolish for writing about, of all films, “X-Files: I Want to Believe.” Considering the pleading title and disastrous latter seasons of the 1990s television show, this essay demonstrates I must have really wanted to believe in something for no good reason other than a careless and fun leap of faith.

“I Want to Believe” could have been a witty and intelligent mystery. It is witty a few times, maybe even touching a couple of times, but mainly left me wondering why I had attempted to be a believer.

The film does not fall prey to the traditional flaws of many summer blockbusters. It is not filled with gratuitous and poorly conceived special effects. It is not trying to be bigger than what it should or can be. It is not a badly acted spree of stupid writing. But “I Want to Believe” cannot ultimately stand due to its shortsighted reliance on director/writer Chris Carter’s solid visuals and the chemistry between David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson.

With the exception of Fox Mulder (Duchovny) and Dana Scully (Anderson), the characters can be cut in half with scissors. Billy Connolly plays a psychic and former Catholic priest and boy molester and that description and a scene where he cries blood are about as interesting as he gets. His character is written as a penitent paranormal talent, but Connolly’s performance is guiltless scruffy hair notwithstanding. Two FBI agents played by Amanda Peet and Xzibit move the plot along like robots. Skinner, a main character from the television show, makes an unsurprising and pointless appearance. No one but those familiar with the show could know why he is there.

The story offers a mystery, but the unraveling is clockwork because everyone can follow a psychic. The disturbing revelation is that a group has kidnapped a woman with the goal to remove her head and sew the head of a man on her body. This idea might fascinate you for a few minutes as it involves decapitation and surgery and identity, but its execution is only for the sake of that brief fascination. Which is usually fine within the body of a 50-minute television program. In the theater the flippant scene sets off a gigantic so what.

Admittedly, the subplot detailing Scully’s struggle to cure a deathly ill boy with a risky procedure raises an admirable discussion about faith.

Just read the above line as a small compliment. Proselytized I am not.

'The Dark Knight': Villain, My Hero

2008-07-19T20:22:00.000-07:00

The status quo of "The Dark Knight" is pandemonium. The opening heist sequence sets the tone for director Christopher Nolan's anti-comic book film in which the Joker meticulously kills his henchmen and avoids police in a school bus. It is the Joker's plan to destroy all plans. That is all. A scarred past? He tells a mob leader his father gave him the quasi Glasgow smile. We learn the story is unreliable, simply a device to make us think we can figure him out. Money? He claims at first if he is good at something not to do it for free but later burns a pyramid of money. Does he just want to kill Batman? Of course not. Batman completes him he adoringly quips.

Heath Ledger is the unequivocal lifeblood of this film. Without him Nolan could not have transcended the expectation of hero defeating villain. For all the positive traits of "Batman Begins" and the praise it received for reviving the Batman franchise, you realize how immature it really was. Nolan built a limited foundation in "Begins" and obliterates it here and digs into the dark hoping to reach Hell.

Ledger is unrecognizable. No trace of Cesar Romero, Jack Nicholson, or Mark Hamill, all great interpreters of Joker. Ledger interprets nothing. I believe he drove himself insane. I would call the performance inspiring if I could shake the scares. Some have compared Ledger's power to Marlon Brando. I call that and raise you Daniel Day-Lewis, who weeped on Oprah after Ledger died.

Day-Lewis indeed commanded the audience to react in a number of ways during the screening of "There Will Be Blood" I attended. Unbelievable to observe a similar charisma only months later and in of all things a movie based on mainstream comic book characters. But it surely happened. Ledger repulsed everyone around me and seconds later had them laughing.

Because Ledger was so bereft of anything holy or just, I tear down my character to say he was my hero during "The Dark Knight." I knew those feelings would be gone--the anticipation of glorified destruction, the inhuman glee, the life I sucked from death on the screen--without Ledger, the unstoppable force.

They are gone now and I want to go back to "The Dark Knight."

Film Binge

2008-07-18T13:24:00.000-07:00

Weeks ago I viewed “The Pianist” and “La Dolce Vita” and “Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid” and “Manhattan" and “The Big Sleep” and “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance” and “The Incredibles” and “The Grapes of Wrath” not in that particular order but day by day for the first time each and every one and I was indeed bloated but altogether different from the aftermath of a drinking binge where pleasure is soon forgotten and the foundation for more liver destruction is laid.

Share your film binges here but do not stumble about too much. Check back in a day or so for words on “The Dark Knight” and such.

An Unfortunate Dispute Between Directors Abel Ferrara and Werner Herzog

2008-07-13T11:32:00.000-07:00

They are very different filmmakers. Abel Ferrara is known as a master of trash cinema, often utilizing sex and violence to illustrate the depravity of his characters and settings. Werner Herzog is known as a quirky documentarian, recently directing two of his most accessible films, "Grizzly Man" and "Rescue Dawn" (the latter being a fictional film based on Herzog's previous documentary, "Little Dieter Needs to Fly").

"Bad Lieutenant" is the conflict. Ferrara directed the 1992 original with Harvey Keitel starring as a perverse cop finally seeking redemption by investigating the rape of a nun. The film was obviously personal for Ferrara, and he held nothing back. "Bad Lieutenant" was rated NC-17 for theaters, and five minutes were cut from the theatrical cut so that Blockbuster would carry it.

Ferrara's comments on everyone involved in Herzog's planned remake of "Bad Lieutenant" were blunt: "I hope they're all in the same streetcar, and it blows up." Ferrara also said he would fight to stop the remake from happening.

Herzog was then interviewed by Defamer.com. Among his responses to Ferrara's anger:

"Let him fight. He thinks I'm doing a remake."

"It [Herzog's film] has nothing to with his [Ferrara's] film. But let him rave and rant; it's good music in the background."

"I've never seen a film by him. I have no idea who he is. Is he Italian? Is he French? Who is he?"

"Maybe I could invite him to act in a movie. Except I don't know what he looks like."

As an admirer of both filmmakers, I am disappointed if these words are true. But honestly, I understand Ferrara's position more than Herzog's.

Here is a common promotional image of Ferrara's film. Pay special attention to the font style of the title. Now glance at a poster (scroll down to first image in article) of Herzog's film used at this year's Cannes Film Festival.

I understand Herzog when he says he is not doing a remake. If he is telling the truth, he has not seen Ferrara's version. Instead of New York, Herzog is taking the story to New Orleans. Plus, Nicolas Cage will star in Herzog's picture, and he has little in common with Keitel as a performer.

But look at the posters again. If Herzog is not filming a remake, why are the title fonts of the posters so similar? Why is he filming a penis scene with Cage? Is he not aware Keitel's penis was shown in the original? Herzog keeps saying this is not a remake, but it bears obvious similarities with the original.

Herzog claims he does not understand the passion behind Ferrara's frustration. It is puzzling a director like Herzog, who has given us so much work about people and their creative obsessions, cannot understand why Ferrara would be upset over a movie with the same name as his own starring Cage, who has performed in mainstream remakes in the past ("Gone in Sixty Seconds" and "The Wicker Man").

Admittedly, Ferrara went too far wishing death on everyone involved in Herzog's film, but as far I know, he has not specifically attacked Herzog.

Apparently, the title of Herzog's film has been expanded to "Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans." This is a right step for Herzog. Still, I doubt Ferrara will be satisfied.

Of course, knowing the controversial Ferrara and witty Herzog, this fight could be a hoax. If not, an unfortunate and unnecessary dispute between two gifted artists.

'WALL-E': Brilliance Was Once Your Art

2008-07-09T13:29:00.000-07:00

Seeing the trailer to Pixar’s newest film, my jadedness told me this was an extended R2-D2 feature, a cute harmless voyage.

Seeing the first 10 minutes of Pixar’s newest film, I forgot my jadedness. Lap dissolves reveal wasted land and places people once called home, evoking the technique and tone of John Ford’s “Grapes of Wrath.” A computer animated film with an opening on par with American cinema’s finest. This might be the one that transcends “Toy Story.”

WALL-E is the titular protagonist. His name is appropriately a forced acronym given our society’s current and likely undying obsession with words in words—Waste Allocation Load Lifter: Earth class. He is a product of Buy N’ Large (as you might guess, a fictional organization ripe for satirical thrusting). Lonely and contemplative his design is to shovel the leftovers of absent humankind and shape them into blocks and stack the blocks like a child building nothing.

He is a bit of a naughty robot. If he finds something he likes—for him it is the jewelry case rather than the ring within he trashes—he keeps it for his collection of forgotten culture and highlights the sad irony that we like WALL-E distance ourselves from the drudgery of production with products themselves.

The film shifts from bleak satire to romantic comedy with the introduction of EVE (Extraterrestrial Vegetation Evaluator), a floating and feminine and feisty machine WALL-E falls for. I laughed at the robots clumsy in their attempts to introduce themselves. As T.S. Eliot and Quentin Tarantino claimed, great art steals from other great art, and “WALL-E” channels Ford and Woody Allen among others within the first 30 minutes while creating its own identity.

After things go outer space to the Axiom ship, we see where humans have gone and what they have become. In one respect or another, they remind me of people I see and talk to now—both amusing and horrifying. Director Andrew Stanton leaves behind the mediocre and antiseptic Finding Nemo to challenge us in the vein of Jonathan Swift.

Unfortunately, the film loses its smarts around the last third. Earlier, Captain McCrea of the Axiom was introduced as a captain only in name, seemingly a hair away from being as stupid as the rest of humankind. He inexplicably becomes the hero in an all-too-easy action sequence, and as Stephanie Zacharek of Salon.com writes, we are expected to forgive the shortcomings of humankind at the conclusion.

For all its morbid lessons about our planet and caustic swipes at consumerism and effective romantic humor, the film takes the easy and traditional way out and briefly transforms into the cute harmless voyage I had feared but trusted would not materialize after such a beautifully crafted first hour.

Oh “WALL-E,” brilliance was once your art.

***1/2 (out of four stars)

'Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid': Sam Peckinpah's Final Valediction to the Old West.

2008-07-07T11:27:00.000-07:00

Sam Peckinpah is the director who revolutionized violence—from both thematic and technical standpoints—in American cinema with one 1969 western: "The Wild Bunch." At the beginning of the film, children marvel at an ant colony killing two scorpions and eventually set fire to all. Toward the end of the film, the central character, played by an ornery and tough William Holden, kills enemy after enemy with a machine gun but is finally shot down by a child.

This unflinching portrayal of children as violent beings is groundbreaking enough. But I have not mentioned the slow motion gun battles staged by Peckinpah, scenes that undoubtedly inspired countless modern action directors, the most obvious example being Hong Kong filmmaker John Woo. We take slow motion for granted as a technical feature. In 1969 it was shocking. Akira Kurosawa and others had toyed with it but not to this extent.

Four years later, Peckinpah returned to the western with “Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid.” Unfortunately, Peckinpah and much of the film’s cast and crew disowned the theatrical version because of several edits that cut the running length from just more than two hours to 106 minutes. However, now on DVD you can see the version Peckinpah wanted: the 1988 director’s cut.

The sadness of the Old West’s passing is inherent in “Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid” as it was in “The Wild Bunch” but on a more personal level. During the opening credits—restored for this version, heavily edited for the maligned theatrical cut—we see clips of Garrett shot down from his horse juxtaposed with clips of Billy the Kid firing at chickens for target practice (and yes, in mesmerizing slow motion). Subtitles tell us the former occurred during the early twentieth century and the latter during 1881. Essentially, the remainder of the film explains this strange juxtaposition.

The Kid and the lawman Garrett meet at the beginning of the film having been apart for years. They were fellow outlaws, and evidence suggests Garrett played a fatherly role to the Kid. We do not see this, however. We only see the relationship go from awkward, when Garrett tells the Kid to straighten up or else, to violent, when Garrett and the Kid are killing each other’s allies. The Kid is captured but escapes, sparking Garrett’s quest to take the Kid down for good.

The Kid’s goal is simple. He would continue his legendary parade and shooting up whatever he wants and taking whatever he wants and the Old West embodied in his belligerent spirit as if he rode with The Wild Bunch itself.

Garrett’s goal is complex. He would live old in a New West and stand for order but at the expense of his old friend, his unofficial son.

Throughout the film I wondered whether Garrett cared about killing the Kid. I wondered if maybe James Coburn or Peckinpah missed a dramatic opportunity for Garrett is ever determined to strike a new path for himself by destroying the path of another. Until the end. He learns where the Kid is hiding. He brings two men with him slipping up on the Kid like assassin dogs. He sees the woman the Kid has taken to bed and the empty space beside her. He knows the Kid is around and stops to contemplate his deed.

Garrett sits on a porch for a night at the conclusion. He walks from the porch to his destiny alone. The Kid is dead and Garrett is forlorn. And you discover the irony of the opening sequence—Garrett killed the Old West to be shot down in the New West.

An irrelevant but interesting note:

Slim Pickens has a small supporting role in “Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid.” His character speaks of abandoning the ground of the West to venture on water. When shot in the gut he walks and walks and walks finally reaching a river and dies. A heartbreaking moment from an actor we usually remember for a laugh.

What To Expect.

2008-06-27T13:38:00.001-07:00

I have a passion for writing and reading about films. I hope this blog can serve the dual purpose of giving me a chance to highlight both inspired and uninspired filmmaking and giving you the opportunity to discuss or comment on the topics at hand. Any feedback--outside of the hostile type--is encouraged and will be appreciated.

I plan to update this blog at least twice each week. I will also include wikipedia links with certain terms, such as actors, camera techniques, etc., so we can always be on the same page.

Notwithstanding the title of this blog, this site will feature more than reviews, sometimes covering news and other topics related to film.

Another important thing to remember: There Will Be Spoilers. So beware.