Monday, November 27, 2006
New Review! Read it in Four Magazine!
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Sansho The Bailiff - 1954 - Film
Sunday, November 26, 2006
This is an absolutely amazing movie and it is a crying shame it has taken me this many years to finally see it. Then again, the wait was worth it because I had the privilege of seeing it on 35mm at The Music Box theater, which in case you haven't checked the list of "Best Movie Theaters" on the right scrollbar of this blog, is one of the finest movie theaters in the country.
Thoughts on the film will be brief because I am completely backlogged with other movies to be covered, but I couldn't sign off without noting how gorgeous the long shots are in the forest sequences. In fact, every shot is calculated so meticulously with different scales of light and dark that they are worth noting. In particular though, when I remember the movie the shots that call to mind are the ones of the children trekking through the forest, vines and leaves strewn in the fore, thick tree
trunks and foliage in the background--all of which comes together with a clean, matte finish over it. And I haven't even mentioned the story itself, which is a heartbreaking tale of a mother separated from her son and daughter, both of whom go to the ends of the earth to find her again, after years of rape, abuse, slavery and torture. I can't wait to watch it again, and afterwards I'm eager to get to The Story of the Last Chrysanthemums (1939), too. Kenji Mizoguchi fans and experts, please weigh-in for a list of recommendations and favorites, it will be a greatly appreciated guide.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Marie Antoinette - 2006 - Film
Friday, November 24, 2006
Marie Antoinette is lovely for its scenery, for its graceful long shots, elegant costumes, poetic choreography, and for Kirsten Dunst, who, by virtue of her thorough dedication to the characters she plays is one of the best actresses in Hollywood. When you watch Dunst her star persona simply fades away and she is completely that character. With Dunst, director Sofia Coppola gives us one of the prettiest-looking films of the year, not only through the highly stylized costumes and makeup that create this version of Marie Antoinette (Dunst) that looks like a cross between the eighteenth-century and 1980s pop culture, but through every inch of the set that seems to be coated in shiny pink icing. Ironically, the silence that befell Marie Antoinette in its long, picturesque scenes is exactly what brings its energy to a dead halt.
Coppola's last film Lost in Translation (2003) was quiet in terms of dialogue, which made sense thematically since its lead characters played by Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson, as Americans in Tokyo, literally could not communicate
verbally--their characters really are lost in translation. Marie Antoinette looks like it is riding on the fumes of Coppola's former film with the same kind of muted peace, but the momentum of the two stories are too disparate to pace at Lost's cadence. Marie Antoinette (Kirsten Dunst) is fourteen when she arrives in Versailles to rule with King Louis XVI (Jason Schwartzman), himself a teenager at the time. The story, based on Antonia Fraser's book "Marie Antoinette: The Journey," is a revised history of the infamous queen's life, which adds a little more sheen to her character than has been popularly thought. What intrigued Coppola about the story was how much pressure this teen was under. She had to give up her former life: her friends, family, clothing, everything. Then she was put in charge of a country. How would a contemporary teen deal with such pressure, Coppola wondered? To see, she tried it out with Dunst and Schwartzman, punching up the costume drama with a stellar
soundtrack and a lot of bright color, but the movement of everything she tints with her retro nostalgia sit still, they hardly react. It was clear that Coppola was commenting on celebrity lifestyle, and perhaps her own rather privileged upbringing. But rather than explain the emotional and mental consequences this kind of responsibility and fame burdens upon someone so young and impressionable, there are long, almost still shots of scenes that simply present the problems, as means for our observation.They are beautiful scenes to observe, I'm the first to become entranced by their depth and detail. Without Coppola to guide us through the long shots with more sympathy, and maybe even a little mockery of Marie's extravagant lifestyle, however, we don't leave the theater seeing eye-to-eye with her, which is after all, the purpose of the story.
The Battle of Midway - 1942 - DVD
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
I read the credits for The Battle of Midway days after the DVD was on its way back to the Netflix warehouse, so unbeknownst to me Henry Fonda and Jane Darwell both have voice-over dialogue in this John Ford WWI propaganda piece. Too bad! It would have been the second most interesting thing about the 18-minute film. The best part being the final intertitle that reads "300 Japanese Aircraft Destroyed" while a hand paints a "V" in bright red paint across it--which looks a hell of a lot like blood. Get it? Victory spelled with blood? Maybe not.
I was loath to watch this movie, but as it turns out I would have anticipated it with interest if only I had done some superficial research before I screened it. Not only would I have known that there was a reputable cast and crew behind it (yes, Gregg Toland is an uncredited cinematographer, per IMDb), but I would have had a better sense of the danger during the actual shooting. Ford is out there shooting real battle scenes, not picking up stock footage from some nameless soldier drafted to the field. In many shots you can see the camera shake as the bombs rattle the ground (or ship deck, etc.) around it. From that angle, there are a few amazing images of ships and land structures that lay victim of the bombings. The most memorable instance is towards the end as thick, black smoke snakes through the top layer of the blue sky. It's an incredibly surreal moment of chaos and peace in one shot, of an ordinary day gone terribly awry that reminded me of this:
That's some heavy punctuation to follow my otherwise light observations, so I will continue, however briefly, and say as a pseudo-historian I am grateful for this live, historical footage. Sure, it's propagandistic, but the images seen by themselves have meaning, and provide even more context for an event in history that is slowly dying out of collective memory.
Next up in the Ford Movie Marathon: 3 Godfathers (1948).
Monday, November 20, 2006
Floating Weeds - 1959 - DVD
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Years ago Roger Ebert brought Floating Weeds (1959) to The Conference on World Affairs (CWA) in Boulder, Colorado, which is an annual meeting of minds and scholars in the sciences, arts, and beyond. There, Ebert famously hosts "Cinema Interruptus", a 5-day screening and shot-by-shot analysis of a film of his choosing. At the event in the University of Colorado's Macky Auditorium, the film is screened in its entirely the first day (Monday). Each subsequent day the "interruptus" begins; at any point in the film, including the opening credits, audience members yell "stop!" at which point they must either have a comment or question about something within that freezed frame. As you can imagine, it is a long process getting through a movie in total, and in fact, the year I saw Hitchcock's Vertigo (1958) at CWA we hardly got past the credit sequence before our time was up for the day. Luckily, the conference keeps running until Friday, but rarely is the whole film seen in full after Monday's introductory screening.
I missed that 2003 "Interruptus," and have meant to see Yasujiro Ozu's Floating Weeds ever since. I finally did, and I am a better critic for it. Now I am left longing to see the original version, The Story of Floating Weeds (1934). The word on the street is that the original is even better. In the meantime, I am mesmerized with the 1959 version, the poetic long-takes of Ozu's characters who move in-and-out of and throughout the frame naturalistically. At once the composition is both simple and complex; in one shot, for instance, Ozu frames two rooms that are separated by one wall: a dining area and a staircase. The shot is simple in terms of the camera movement, since the camera doesn't move; but the shot's complexity is illustrated though the choreography of the characters within the spaces in simultaneous time.
I'm a novice in the Ozu department, but once this John Ford movie marathon is over (does it have to be?) there might be an Ozu marathon in the works. Stay tuned...
'G' Men - 1935 - DVD
Saturday, November 18, 2006
For years 'G' Men looked to me like one of those good, gritty gangster flicks from the 30s that would be loaded with shadowy sets and equally shady characters. Sadly, for a long time I confused it with Anthony Mann's T-Men (1947) (which it looks nothing like), and though the confusion in titles is cleared up the film 'G' Men itself was an utter let down.
James Cagney stars as as "Brick," a freshman employee with the FBI, the newly formed government unit that is keen on
showing off their covert ops technology. Most of the picture includes leaden scenes of FBI officials presenting different machines that examine evidence (e.g. high-powered microscopes), almost as if the group is proving its legitmacy to the public. It's like a Hollywood version of a public service announcement. The most ridiculous scene takes place with Cagney at his lady crush's car. She's about to drive away, but Cagney, with a small secret camera hidden in his coat keeps haranguing her for a photograph of herself. Does she have any he can give him as a momento? Very subtle. Cagney literally pulls the "hidden" camera into plain sight while he's talking to her in his not-so-coded language, and you know what the worst part is? She never figures out what he's talking about. He's that sly.
On the other hand, the movie has some great posters. Here are a few I found, including a screenshot from the movie's credits (above).
10 Items or Less - 2006 - Film
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
I snuck into an early screening of 10 Items or Less (in theaters December 1st), the new indie flick from director Brad Silberling, who is most recently known for Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events (2004), Moonlight Mile (2002), and City of Angels (1998). As I filter through the press packet the bio section has no mention of Mr. Silberling's directorial contributions to the 1994 series The Byrds of Paradise--a credit for which I know him better, since I haven't seen any of his movies.
I hope someone out there in Blog Land remembers that TV show, it was with Seth Green and Jennifer Love Hewitt, who played brother and sister in a Hawaiian teen/family drama. It was profound stuff for my 14-year-old self, but I bet it wouldn't pack the same punch all these years later. My main point in mentioning the above TV show is primarily for the sake of my own nostalgia, but it also shows the background that the director Mr. Silberling had before testing out indie waters.
10 Items or Less is about an actor, "him" who is played by Morgan Freeman, a character in the film who is famous in Hollywood, but who has been out of work for four years. To get the momentum back in his career he tries out a small indie picture, which at the very least keeps him busy for a few weeks. On this point, the movie is probably a bit autobiographical for Mr. Silberling, who also wrote (and co-produced) the film.
The story begins as Mr. Freeman's character visits a bodega in a working class area of L.A. to research his role. There, he meets Scarlet (Paz Vega), the head checker of the "10 items or less" lane. After a small series of mishaps the two are inconveniently stuck with one another for the afternoon.
It is a simple plot from there. They each spend a lot of time listening to one another while touring through mundane daily activities. Scarlet takes "him" to the local Target store in one scene, where he stands in slack-jawed awe of the low prices, "$8 for a designer t-shirt!" A marvel for a guy wearing a tee retailed at more than ten times that price. The story isn't particularly exciting, but the interactions between these two strangers is delicate and kind. It isn't a movie I plan to buy or watch again, but it was a pleasant time in the theater where I felt a kind of priviledge to watch these two people simply be together. 10 Items or Less opens on December 1, 2006 in select cities.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
The Long Voyage Home - 1940 - DVD
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Half-way through the Ford marathon and The Long Voyage Home is one of my new favorites.
Gregg Toland is cinematographer and shares the title card with John Ford in the opening credit sequence. My viewing companion (and big Welles fan) told me that this is done in the title shot for Citizen Kane (1941), where Welles is simultaneously listed with Toland. He says the shared title card with Welles and Toland was controversial because it was the first time a director shared authorial credit with his cinematographer. As we watched the titles he was of course shocked to see Ford had done the same thing, too, only a year earlier. Filtering through my memory, I do believe I've seen Ford's name shared in the credits of other films, though I think its with producers, not creative personnel like a cameraman.
You can feel Toland's presence in the film (which is probably why he's credited along-side the director); the picture simply has more depth and focus, and ambient movement is as integral to the shot as his immediate subjects. John Wayne (he plays Ole Olsen) stands on a ship deck with a crew member; white puffs of smoke gust from the ship's smoke stack below them, which is shown in a separate shot. Up on deck Wayne stands quietly, like he's posing for a painter; the smoke slowly rises, fills the frame, and begins to drift in the wind. Toland slowly pans left to follow the movement of the white smoke against the black sky and dark figures below. No dialogue is spoken, it's serene, gorgeous. That shot alone is enough to love the movie, but the entire picture is composed as delicately, with no superfluous space, movement or dialogue. The film is also another way to see John Wayne; he is popular for playing gruff leading men with his signature twangy strut. Here, his speaking role is more calculated, gentler, and we see that he has as much grace in his standing stature as he does in his Western swagger.
I name this my favorite of all the previously-unseen Ford films. And I think it's going to stay that way for awhile, The Battle of Midway (1942) is up next on the Ford queue...
Young Mr. Lincoln - 1939 - DVD
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Man does Henry Fonda look like Abe! Kudos to the costume designer, who looking through the credits appears to be a man named "Royer". I like people with one-name names, like Prince; they just drip with art.
There is a beautiful credit sequence leading us into the movie, where the background is set to a stone finish and the letters of cast and crew names appear like engravings, much like the words engraved on the walls of the Lincoln Memorial. Like that memorial, the film is also a dedication to a piece of American history; not only is it about the life and legend of the late-President's early political years, but it's a trip through American history to the mid-nineteenth century. A parade sequence, in which Lincoln and crowds of people gaze at the spectacle, salutes surviving Revolutionary War veterans and other U.S. historical events and figures. It is a movie hyper-aware of history that uses rhetorical images to convey famous events, a courtesy extended to the legacy of Lincoln as the film progresses.
Ward Bond has a secondary speaking role, though a part much larger than his previous appearances in Ford's films. There is a fantastic vignette sequence that captures events of a county fair taking place the same day as the parade; they are like little chapters that introduce us to Lincoln's versatile, wholesome and likable personality: fair and balanced, he judges a pie eating competition--but the peach and apple pies are both too good to name one superior (and we never do hear Lincoln's verdict in the matter).
He enters a rail-splitting contest, and of course wins--he is after all a man of the land as much as he is learned lawyer. Finally, he takes part in a tug-o-war competition, but gains an advantage for his team in a not-so-honest fashion (he ties the anchor end of the rope to a cart, but even that sneaky move is done in too much earnest to frown at).As much as the film masters rhetorical images and speeches of Lincoln that always portray him as a pillar of integrity, Lincoln himself uses nonesuch political language speaking among his friends and colleagues.
Take for instance the final courtroom scenes in where the opposing lawyer spews poetic words about America ("this great country" etc.) that doesn't persuade the courtroom, but puts them to sleep (there is a shot of the judge snoring). That lawyer loses the attention of the jury through rhetoric, while Lincoln enraptures them with the plain, simply spoken truth.
Ford really makes Lincoln more of a down-home guy than he does a politician, and his setting embellishes that simple personality. The composition of nature shots at the front and end of the film look painted; the depth and natural detail of the scenes are Romantic in the way of Wordsworth's descriptions of the clouds and sky, sublime. They are idyllic pictures of Lincoln basking in the shade of a tree, the river meandering by; a skilled and cunning man, at one with nature, with a prophetic vision of how American will look tomorrow. That's a dose of the American myth for you.
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