Only Two Types Of Men Get Shot: Criminals and Victims: Cowboys & Aliens (2011)

It only figured that after some amount of time what would be my desire to find the farthest stretches of western revisionism would result in a film that completely failed on all accounts.  To think that I seriously considered going out of my way to spend money on seeing Cowboy & Aliens in theaters upon its initial release is absurd, something I am glad I did not do, because it could have clouded my opinion of many of the film's actors, as well as director Jon Favreau, who is clearly more of a puppet to producers visions than the voice that would create the ever-enjoyable Iron Man.  While it does borrow heavily from the western genre tradition, it is far from a well delivered film, in fact, I would argue that the film is nothing more than a set of events paired together by a Hollywood think tank whose only concern for the film was that it had an appropriate amount of action and managed to make the most use of Harrison Ford as possible.  If you pay attention during the opening credits the executive producers and writers for the film appear to essentially be the same group, and the nod to Steven Spielberg as a producer is evidenced when one realizes that the film is, essentially James Bond and Indiana Jones versus E.T. and his friends from Close Encounters of the Third Kind.  Again it is within the framework of the western genre, so my point of contention is not there by any means...trust me I wanted to enjoy this film.  Yet, if one considers that such a large amount of money was dumped into this film ($163 Million to be exact) it is frustrating to see the visual deliveries come across as cheap, repetitive and lacking in the sort of grandeur one might assume that is ostensibly borrowing from two of the most cinematic genres known to film history.  I mean, imagine how many films Shane Carruth could make with that kind of money, especially considering that the vision that was Primer was executed on a budget of seven thousand dollars, yet has more visual magic than any scene in Cowboys & Aliens which is further baffling when you consider that pretty much every moment in the film cost well over seven thousand dollars to make.  While it serves its place in the post-modern 21st century moviegoing canon, Cowboys & Aliens fails in regards to pretty much everything its sets out to do on screen.

Cowboys & Aliens primarily focuses on Jake Lonergan (Daniel Craig) a loner and ex-criminal who inexplicably awakes in the desert with a deep wound in his stomach and a hunk of metal attached to his arm.  Needing medical attention Jake moves quickly to the nearest town, Absolution, where he meets a local preacher who treats his wounds.  After awaking somewhat healed Jake makes his way out to the town, only for it to be in the midst of a semi-shootout started by the young Percy Dolarhyde (Paul Dano) after being berated by the local saloon owner Doc (Sam Rockwell) who is fed up of Percy using his connections to Woodrow Dolarhyde (Harrison Ford), an infamous gunslinger,  to bully the town.  Jake stepping into the action unaware of these elements, puts Percy in his place, resulting in the sheriff showing up and placing him in jail, despite the concerns of the townsfolk and it is during this time that people realize that Jake is indeed a wanted criminal, also leading to his being jailed.  Both Jake and Percy are to be shipped to the marshall, only to have Woodrow emerge and attempt to stop the event from happening, however, it is also during this confrontation that aliens attack the town capturing men and women in the process, both Percy and Doc's wife among the group.  During the battle, Jake realizes that his metal bracelet is capable of releasing huge burst of destructive energy which he uses with a bit of success against the aliens.  Jake and Woodrow are initially at odds with one another, but when it becomes apparent that they will need one another's help they join forces, eventually getting the help of the town prostitute Ella (Olivia Wilde) who later reveals herself to be a different species of alien hoping to help Earth survive the attack.  Eventually, a set of memories Jake has been having allow for him to better understand the nature of how to attack these aliens, specifically once they find their ship buried into the ground mining for gold.  After a battle both within and outside of the ship, the aliens are destroyed and Jake retains his previously lost memory and the various captives are returned to their loved ones.  The group returns to Absolution to begin rebuilding, but Jake decides his life should exist somewhere else, his departure occurs with a promise by Woodrow and the sheriff to claim that Jake had died during the invasion, as to avoid any trouble with his past in the future.

If that plot description sounds a little brief, yet incredibly all-over-the-place that is because it is precisely how Cowboys & Aliens exists as a film.  At no point is any commitment made to make the alien element of the film a complete hybrid with the western genre that dominates the films narrative.  In fact, if you took out that element to this film it would still have a similar narrative flow, all be it equally basic and misdirected.  There are a ton of western tropes incorporated within this film, but as soon as the film sets any single one of them up for analysis it is immediately knocked down to move onto the next "important" sequence in the film, which may or may not deal with aliens, in most instances it has very little to do with the latter portion of the title.  In fact, from what I have read Favreau and the others working on the film were invited to Spielberg's house for screenings of a variety of classic western and the director gave them suggestions on what they could include in the script.  It is really a shame that Spielberg was not involved beyond this point because it is clear that they appeared to take the suggestions as not "possible" options, but instead "necessary" ones, blowing past very key social commentaries and even deeply engaging religious inquiries, again to seemingly more important narrative task.  If it were just dealing with these tropes that proved problematic I would chalk it up to a relatively refined palette, certainly more so after nearly a month of westerns, but it is the case for every damn element of this movie.  For example, there are way too many characters in this film, many of which purely serve as veritable canon fodder for the main characters to go on their quest.  Doc would be seemingly content to bemoan his life from behind the counter of his saloon were it not for the loss of his wife, just as Woodrow would appear to remain cantankerous and vile, a state of mind that drastically alters when he is faced with not only the very real possibility of losing his son, but his grandson as well.  Hell, even Jake, a character who could benefit from a vague storyline, is given just enough information for a viewer to consider empathizing with him, but the focus on returning his memories only to have them prove rather arbitrary in the films closing moments.  When he leaves town it is supposed to be the into the sunset scene that is both stoic and heartbreaking, but in the case of this, at times, insufferable film, his departure is welcomed because it is quickly followed by the credits.

Key Scene:  If I had to chose something I guess the underwater shot of a camp being attacked by aliens is one of the few well-executed moments in the entire film.

Avoid this film, there is really no reason to engage with it and I can think of a ton of films from both genres individually that are much more worth one's time.

We're Not Lost, We're Just Finding Our Way: Meek's Cutoff (2010)

I first came to the work of Kelly Reichardt via Wendy and Lucy, a film that while not perfect, proved to be a huge step in terms of reconstituting who is afforded the opportunity to occupy the space of a film, particularly in regards to gender.  Furthermore, while it is feasible that I had seen Michelle Williams in a film prior, it was certainly the first major work in which I can recall her performance, especially in its bleak sense of dread and disillusion that has become, to a degree, her trademark.  Meek's Cutoff had been on my "to watch list" upon its initial release and, unfortunately, kept being pushed aside or overlooked for other viewing experiences, yet when I began planning my month of westerns, aside from the obvious classics, this stood out as a necessary work to, especially since it was by a female director and ostensibly stood to revert the genre, an element I am continually seeking in this thirty movie marathon.  Of course, Meek's Cutoff is not a perfect movie, much like Reichardt's previously mentioned film, Meek's Cutoff suffers from spouts of existential wandering and stagnant cinematography that appears to lack an ultimate motive or payoff, yet when the narrative finds its occasional grounding it does so with such an excellent eye and focus that it makes up for many of the emergent issues.  The beauty of this film is not in its execution, however, but in its complete disavowal of the gender oppression which would have occurred during that era.  The idyllic films within the western genre canon, seem set on dissecting every detail as to why male-based rationality and bravery ruled out over feminine "hysteria" and emotions.  Meek's Cutoff demands that a viewer truly consider the likelihood of such blind subservience, particularly in the face of dehydration, starvation and a growing sense of failure.  Otherness becomes less obvious when survival becomes key, although Reichardt is no idealist in this context and furthers to critique to say that perhaps such moments of challenge against authoritative gender norms found direction based on the ability to markedly define a lesser body.  Regardless, Meek's Cutoff, while not an absolutely standout film, nonetheless, takes a genre and considers its prevalence historically as well as within an contemporary and changing filmmaking world.

Meek's Cutoff follows a small band of pioneers making their way through the desolate Oregon Trail in hopes of starting the life anew.  The group includes the stern Solomon Tetherow (Will Patton) and his wife Emily (Michelle Williams) as well as the other couples William (Neal Huff) and Gloria White (Shirley Henderson) and Thomas (Paul Dano) and Mille Gately (Zoe Kazan).  Their lack of expertise on travel requires them to involve the help of Stephen Meek (Bruce Greenwood) an arrogant and somewhat ruthless guide who appears to lack the knowledge he suggests in terms of navigation.  The group, already drawn thin by lengthy travel, in worsened when discovering that they are running dangerously thin on water, without any assurance that they will find it in the immediate future.  Becoming frustrated by the lack of success, the group, particularly Emily begin to challenge Meek in terms of his authority.  Upon the discovery of a Native American man, played by Rod Rondeaux, the groups animosity towards Meek grows when he violently attacks him for not telling them where to find water.  It is only upon the notion, by Thomas, to barter that the Native man agrees to lead them in exchange for two blankets.  During the continually grueling trip tensions as to the nature of the Native vary from Millie's believe that he is signaling to his tribe for attack, while Emily and Thomas defend his presence, Emily even going so far as to help by fixing his moccasin.  Trouble strikes, however, when the Tetherow wagon rolls out of control and breaks apart, leading to a loss of goods.  Meek frustrated by the Native who begins perusing the goods, pulls a gun on him, which quickly leads to Emily defending the Native.  At this point, Meek's power is clearly cut and the travel continues with equal paranoia and a sense of helplessness, yet when the group arrives at a tree with green foliage all hopes are rekindled, because it suggests the presence of water nearby.  With little explanation or communication the Native simply continues on his way, only Emily notices his movement away as the narrative closes and the credits emerge.

I could talk about the tropes of masculinity within the context of the western and the manner with which this film directly rejects such constructions, but they are rather obvious, particularly with Emily's appropriation of power through the phallic rifle, while still maintaining the domestic abilities that allow her to barter with the Native by fixing the shoe, whereas, Meek is a failed masculine figure in his lack of basic knowledge and failed attempts to bring everyone on board with a backward-looking notion of social constructs.  These things are there in the forefront and decidedly important, but what caught my attention was Reichardt's interesting filmmaking style.  The choice to go digital and reject the widescreen tradition of the western is captivating, especially since she still relies on the wide shot composition for many scene, which manage to still be stunning.  Furthermore, she shoots in natural lighting a choice that makes the daytime images seem stark, the dusk and dawn images mesmerizing and the nighttime shots nearly incomprehensible.  This method of filmmaking, for this genre specifically, is fascinating, it is a choice often reserved for horror films or indie psychological dramas, but has a big payoff here in its consideration of exactly what is so idyllic about the western as a film genre.  Within the narrative Reichardt clearly rejects the sentimentality and traditionalism attached to the era, because it was terrible for everyone involved and doubly so for anyone without a voice or power.  Secondly, aside from a few moments each day the living conditions within the world were far from comfortable.  The near black scenes of night, remove the sort of homely comfort associated with the campfire of the old west and remind viewers that it would probably have been quite impossible to visually communicate in the darkness, while providing pioneers with little to no comfort.  The digital camera only makes the dark even more incomprehensible, instead of possessing the sharp "true blacks" of a strictly film era.  In the matter of less than two hours, Reichardt's film narratively and structurally reconsiders the relevance of the western in contemporary society, unfortunately, its obtuse ending fails to provide any tangible alternatives.

Key Scene:  There is a rather stellar speech about destruction and chaos about halfway through the film that is a highlight from a consistently solid film

This is on Watch Instantly and I suggest checking it out, although it is necessary to come at the film with an appropriate frame of mind, because it is a highly perplexing and philosophical engagement.

Always Look Ahead And Above Yourself: Jiro Dreams Of Sushi (2011)

As many a documentary filmmaker seem to agree, Albert Maysles specifically, the purpose of the non-fiction filmmaking style is to quote reality to some degree.  A larger question arises though when we are to consider a individual or a reality so unusual or exceptional that they transcend our own understandings of the real or the factual.  This certainly proved true with the penultimate documentary Grey Gardens, directed by Albert and his brother David, however, it also proves to be grounds for many other documentaries, although in most instances filmmakers manage to find exceptional subjects, only to completely drop the ball on creating their world, or as suggested earlier, visually quoting their reality.  This is certainly the case with I Like Killing Flies, a work with a incomprehensible figure that flails to cinematically reflect on the vibrance of the subject.  In contrast, exists what has come to be the standout documentary of last year, 2011's Jiro Dreams of Such, which focuses on world famous sushi chef Jiro Ono, who in his eighties still attends work regularly and delivers a product to his diverse customer base that he acknowledges changes and, hopefully, evolves everyday.  The traditional Japanese food offered by Jiro is not flashy or fusion heavy, but, instead, simple traditional sushi perfect.  Filmmaker David Gelb who both directed and shot this documentary does the idea of quoting reality justice within his visual study of the iconic sushi chef, taking vibrant but subtle angles and deep focus lenses to capture the slow artistry at work in the art of making the cuisine.  Often the film simply rests the camera on the piece of sushi as it occupies a minimalist space on a dish, or will use a series of overlaps and cuts to show time evolution and the notion of memory simultaneously.  The documentary exists both as a provocation on the state of fish-based food industries in Japan as well as a endearing reflection on the life of an accomplished and hard-working individual.  The film is exceptionally well-executed and deserved of the near universal praise it has managed to accrue.

Jiro Dreams of Sushi, as noted previously centers on aging sushi master Jiro Ono, a prominent figure not only in Tokyo where he resides, but on the global scale as well being the oldest chef, and one of the few sushi chefs to receive the prestigious three star rating from the Michelin Institute in France, an accolade one food critic quips in the documentary makes it worth going to said country simply to eat at that restaraunt.  At the time of this film, Jiro is eighty-five and shows no signs to considering retirement, going so far as to awake early in the morning and leave work quite late at night, a routine he has kept up for well over sixty years.  In fact, aside from obeying national holidays and no longer traveling to the fish market, Jiro sustains the same methodologies and approaches from his earliest days in the trade.  While many of his contemporaries have either passed or retired, Jiro keeps at his job, while his eldest son, now well into his fifties works under him as assistant chef, per Japanese tradition.  Incidentally, his younger son, knowing that he will not be afforded the opportunity to take over the restaurant, leading to the opening of his own restaurant, which is a literal mirroring of his father's place considering that he is right handed.  Things seem nearly unstoppable for Jiro and most of the documentary instead chooses to focus on the mad methods incorporated by the chef to assure a quality products, ones he claims are constantly evolving and never perfected.  Jiro proves to be the most humble of individuals and clearly possesses a hidden charm that manages to rub off on all those he meets, especially his former employees and the fish market workers with whom he previously worked.  If anything is left uncertain in the future of the narrative post filming it is the state of sushi as an art form after the eventual loss of Jiro, as well as the problems with overfish.  Although it also considers what troubles Jiro's sons will face living up to their father's illustrious name, yet as the closing moments seem to suggest, this is far from impossible and may already have occurred.

Why then does a seemingly straightforward documentary about a elderly man putting raw fish onto rice seem to gain such mass appeal.  I would suggest that its seemingly universal love is a direct relation to the universal motifs and themes promoted within the film.  Jiro is probably one of the most likable individuals one could ever hope to encounter in live, yet he suffers from some of the same hardships anyone could imagine, most notably issues with addiction to cigarrettes and forming a lasting bond with his children, even his unique distancing from his parents manages to evolve in to a degree of universality.  However, larger themes than these emerge within Jiro Dreams of Sushi, the most obvious being rhetoric surrounding passion and livelihood, one would find difficulty arguing against Jiro's old age being intrinsically tied to the zeal and love he pours out into his work.  The philosophically inclined sushi chef goes so far as to say that the moment a person curses their employment proves to be the exact moment in which they cannot produce a decent product.  Of course, Jiro also struggles with a variety of issues, whether it be technological changes, adapting to a market inundated with quick consumption sushi or changing demands in customer service, however, the zen like patience of Jiro always adapts, as he does when serving each customer, whether it be adjusting portions to unique paces or serving the food on the left hand side to help a customer who favors that hand.  Jiro Dreams of Sushi seems to answer the ever present question of why humanity exists and how one should engage life, if we are to take Jiro's actions to heart, it seems to be to find something we love and continually strive to perfect that, even if said perfection comes in embracing its simplicity.

Key Scene:  There is a moment when Jiro's work is compared to a piece of music that would be on the nose in any other work, however, given the artistic magnitude of this surprisingly minimalist film it fits in all to perfectly.

This is an exceptional film and one of the most stellar documentaries of the past year, if not the past decade.  It is a beautiful work currently available on Netflix Watch Instantly, there is no justification for missing its perfection.

History Prefers Legends To Men: Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter (2012)

For the remainder of October I am going to focus my blog in a slightly different direction and jump on the blogosphere bandwagon of blogging about horror movies specifically.  I plan to, or at least hope to, run through a slew of different horror films from genre hybrids, to country variations and hopefully a few historically important ones as well.  I plan to even revisit a few of my personal favorites with the hopes of reflecting on my love of them in written form.  Ideally, my reflections will cover films that you as readers as heard of, but touch upon a few that are not familiar to mainstream audiences, and who knows maybe a few of the films I plan to focus on will have even myself reconsidering what I include in a horror oeuvre.  As always, I am fully open to suggestions for viewings and hope to blog about a film each day through the actual celebration of All Hallow's Eve.  This focus will maybe even help flesh out some research projects as I begin to draw connections of theory and criticism through various films, as well as serving as a means to see a few more horror films in theatre, a specific genre that I feel strongly benefits from big screen treatment.  With all this being said, I begin my October Horror Blog Wonder Extravaganza with a solid bit of absurdly terrible post-modern horror with Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter.  I went into this film knowing full and well that it would be quite terrible and those in the theater with me clearly shared my views as they laughed at the films genuine attempts to be a bad-ass appropriation of a honored historical figure.  However, I did not expect some of the liberties taken by the writer and director about comparisons of slavery to evil creatures to be quite so problematic, but then again from Hollywood it should not have come as a surprise.

Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter for those inept at reading context clues, is about an alternative history in which America's sixteenth president Abraham Lincoln (Benjamin Walker) undertakes the job of being a vampire hunter, as a means to revenge the death of his mother at the hands of the monsters of the night.  To some extent this job is thrust upon him by an expert vampire hunter named Henry Sturges (Dominic Cooper) who engages in the act, as a means of revenge himself.  Lincoln must keep this act of hunting vampires a secret as he engages with other notable historical figures, whether it be his historical friend Joshua Speed (Jimmi Simpson) or Mary Todd (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), as well as one Stephen Douglass (Alan Tudyk) and Jefferson Davis (John Rothman) whom the film cast in the light of being similar to the vampires.  As Lincoln struggles with the question of slavery and an imminent war, his engagement with vampire hunting comes to the fore front after he confronts the lead vampire Adam (Rufus Sewell) only to fail to defeat him initially.  In a purely Hollywood move the final confrontations lay upon the battlefields of the Civil War, most notably that of Gettysburg, in which Lincoln requires that all silver be move to the battle front to help kill the vampires who have become soldiers for the Confederate Army.  This is where history coalesces, and the North wins, slaying the vampires in the process, Lincoln delivers his famous Gettysburg Address, but in this filmic narrative it has a edge towards condemning the vampires as well.  The film then fast forwards to present day where we are shown a man of African-American descent sitting at a bar being approached by Henry to become a vampire hunter for a new age...

If that closing scene does not prove problematic there are certainly a list of other problems in the "message" of this film.  First off, like Tarantino's Inglorious Basterds, AL: VH takes liberties to condemn the entire south as evil, going so far as to suggest that the vampires are fully responsible for the trading and abusing of slaves.  This action results in dismissing the true scar on American history by suggesting that it was enacted by some demonic force.  Similarly, the film suggests that at some point during the war the entire Confederate army was that of vampires making their being killed a moment of glorious celebration, at least that was the case in the theater where I viewed the film.  I had trouble with this scene specifically, partially because it was just ungrounded cinematic bloodshed, but also because it  dehumanizes the deaths of soldiers in America's bloodiest war, which indeed witnessed a very real amount of human bloodshed.  Finally, the gumption of the film's director to reconsider such important speech as Lincoln's Gettysburg Address as a means to condemn vampires, or that Jefferson Davis himself dealt with the dark lords, is in bad taste.  Such scenes could have proved as a means to get viewers not familiar with historical rhetoric to truly consider that ethical problems of slavery and human oppression, but instead it just serves as a stepping stone for another set of stylized vampire killings.  Finally, regardless of political leanings the blatant connection between Lincoln and Obama in the films closing shot is egregiously problematic.  

Key Scene: The stampede battle is quite well-crafted and paced ending in a explosive manner that was deserved of the applause it received.

To dismiss this movie completely would be incredibly unfair, however, one must take it very critically to realize the problems the rethinking of a troublesome portion of American history visits.  It is not intended to be a political commentary, but an argument could be made that the film does not do enough to deter the possibility for interpretations.

There Is No Point. That's The Point: We Need To Talk About Kevin (2011)

Anxiety manifests itself in some unusual ways when one considers films.  In some cases it can be quite overdone and seem ridiculous, as is the case with Requiem for a Dream, in other instances it can be minimalist and almost become a character within the film, as occurs in The Following and on other occasions it can so perfectly serve the plot that it makes the film a class, check out many a Hitchcock film for an example of this.  However, in Lynne Ramsay's We Need To Talk About Kevin, anxiety envelopes the film in such a manner that one becomes almost nauseous, and at the very least exhausted, after watching the film.  Of course, it could sound as though I am reflecting negatively on the film for this, yet that is not the case.  A challenging and draining movie is to be respected, similar to the works of Von Trier or Passolini, We Need To Talk About Kevin is beautiful in its abjectness and exists as either the most unassuming horror film of all time or the darkest comedy ever created.  Needless to say, it is clear why this film fell to the wayside last year, considering that it deals with incredibly provocative  issues and is unapologetic and nonredemptive in the manner it portrays them, particularly the relationship between a mother and son that is troubled, literally from conception.  A brilliant set of performances from Tilda Swinton, John C. Reilly and Ezra Miller, along with some grating and confrontation imagery amounts to what is probably the greatest pro-choice film ever composed.  The concept of loathing burns of the screen as viewers consume, at times involuntarily, the world falling apart before their eyes.

It is clear that We Need To Talk About Kevin begins in media res, however, the events happening and those that have already occurred are less clearly defined.  We can tell that a woman named Eva (Tilda Swinton) is existing in pill-induced, alcohol consuming post-marriage life, as a result of what appears to be her son Kevin's (Ezra Miller) act, which appears to have been some sort of high school shooting.  Taking this moment in her distraught life, where she has now taken up employment at a travel agency, is juxtaposed quite jarringly with her past, one in which she was married to Franklin (John C. Reilly) after the birth of Kevin.  It is clear from the onset that things will be troublesome between Eva and Kevin, as even during his toddler years Kevin acts out against Eva, specifically harming her body and desires when nobody is around, only to act completely innocent when Franklin is around.  As Kevin grows older, his and Eva's relationship splinters more and more, eventually to the point where, in what might be jealously, Kevin leaves a cleaning chemical out to cause his younger sister to burn her eye.  Eva, despite her disdain, attempts to formulate some degree of a relationship with Kevin who continually belittles her every instance in which she may find success.  After all but giving up, Eva makes one last suggestion about going on a trip, which Kevin dances around committing to, only to go about killing the next day.  Throughout the film Eva constantly meets with Kevin in a juvenile prison where he demeans and dismisses her, up until the films closing scene in which Eva visits Kevin prior to his transfer to an adult prison and it is at this moment that Kevin admits for the first time to being lost, which results in a hug of comfort from Eva, perhaps the first genuine moment of bonding between the two throughout the whole film's narrative.

I only half-heartedly meant the bit about it being a wholly pro-choice movie, an analysis of that would be foolish and ungrounded.  Instead, I would like to consider this film as a perfect example of how one should depict and philosophically approach violence and its acts in film.  At no point does this film glorify or justify Kevin's actions, yet at the same time it does not condemn them.  It clearly draws a line of points which could elucidate particularly why Kevin acts out, yet it also helps to explain Eva's innocence in the situation, a claim that parents victims seem to disagree with adamantly, as happens up her being hit randomly by a woman in the street.  In fact, one could make the argument that Ramsay's film draws greater concern to the family structure of contemporary America as a place of latent violence.  The silences and back room dealings that happen within even the seemingly happiest and well-to-do families only lays in wait for something tragic.  Life, according to the world of We Need To Talk About Kevin, is usually shitty and there is no explanation as to why, yet it is pointless to dwell on the past no matter how dismal the present may be, simply put, there is no going back to a time before.  As Eva's constant scrubbing of red off her porch suggests, some stains cannot be removed, as such, you must accept getting use to their presence.

Key Scene: Tilda, Shopping Cart, Christmas Music, Eggs.

This is with little doubt one of the hidden gems of 2011, along side House of Pleasures and Take Shelter, it is deserved of acknowledgement when one reconsiders the best films of last year.  Rent it and see what I mean.

May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favor: The Hunger Games (2012)

I have been quite adamant in my loathing of The Hunger Games as a rip-off of Battle Royale, which in its own right borrowed quite heavily from Lord of the Flies, and while I was not upset that the film and book got hype, I was dismissive of how many people praised it for its originality, something, narratively speaking, it did not possess.  As such I avoided viewing this film for quite some time because I felt as though I would be selling out to one of my favorite novels and films in Battle Royale, as well as feeding into media hype about a film that I would more than likely hate.  However, I by some accident saw the trailer on television and was instantly drawn into the cinescape created by Gary Ross and knew that it would linger in my mind until viewing the film.  Unable to convince my friends to join in the viewing of a film that they too had dismissed, I grabbed a bluray copy from a drugstore nearby and popped the popular movie in for viewing.  I enjoyed The Hunger Games very much, it is certainly a rip-off thematically of works like Battle Royale and Lord of the Flies, but not it is clearly not with the means to exploit it for profits, and while I can only speak for the film, I felt as thought it was a realized distopian film with excellent cinematography, decent enough acting and enough fresh approaches to the  kill-or-be-killed narrative to make the two plus hour film worth my time and, more importantly, worth convincing others to watch.  The Hunger Games will likely be forgotten in the throes of big budget Hollywood in the next five or so years, but that does not mean we should ignore its current successes, as it stands right now, The Hunger Games is a great offering from the blockbuster system and as far as those are concerned it is one of the better films of the year.

The Hunger Games, for the two and a half people who do not know, follows a society in the grips of poverty and famine that choose to sacrifice two youth from each of their districts to fight to the death, the last one standing is promised wealth beyond comprehension.  Of course, the districts with larger populations and a decent means can train their youth to compete, while others are chosen by random drawing, often to their dismay.  In the case of the specific Hunger Games shown in the film one Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence) volunteers as tribute for the Hunger Games in order to assure that her younger sister will not be subject to the cruel engagement.  Along with another village boy Peeta (Josh Hutcherson) they represent their district in the games.  The two are whisked off to training at the Capital, which is grueling and affords them an opportunity to see how truly corrupt the society they live within has become, particularly in the disparity between people of various districts and their wealth.  Realizing this rather quickly, Katniss makes it a point to contradict the influence of wealth and stick to her own ways, making the initial hours of the actual games incredibly grueling.  As Katniss competes against others trying to kill her and various natural obstacles, she learns self-reliance and to trust people who do right by her, ultimately surviving the bout till it is only her and Peeta left.  Agreeing to commit suicide, as opposed to killing one another, a committee declares them joint winners of the games, in order, to not cause more despair amongst those viewing the games.  Katniss and Peeta return as victors, much the the anger of the committee and the film closes with the President of the districts contemplating the situation, after all this is a trilogy.

So I should probably confront the race issue in the film.  Having done a bit of research for this specific blog I have come to realize that in the novel the characters were clearly of darker skin than those in the film, proving problematic when you consider that white characters cover much of the main cast.  It also helps to elucidate the scenes of bonding between Katniss and Cinna (Lenny Kravitz) who claims to have a connection to her, which when we know that Katniss is supposed to be darker, makes much more sense.  This is not my criticism per se, but just something to keep in mind when watching the film.  I myself, am drawn to the ways in which the adaptation completely dismisses the quality of any political structure in this particular distopian vision.  Neither right nor left wing politics have proved useful in this vision of the future, and libertarian notions are shot out the window when we consider that the actual games reaffirm that if humans are left to their devices that they will prove Darwin right every time.  I cannot say for sure what the political rhetoric that emerges would be from such a film, put I know that in its wake gender roles would be subverted, racial tensions would be broken and the idea of self-sacrifice for others would be glorified, at least this appears to be what Katniss' actions suggest and the President's discomfort reflect in the films closing.  The various social commentaries emergent within this film are many and each could be drawn on for hours.  Ideally, this should be a film introduced to burgeoning film studies students, as it offers a wide range of critiques that combine cinematic and theoretical language perfectly.

Key Scene: The poison/drug trip is well...trippy

I know I said that I rented this film, but I plan to get a bluray copy soon, it was much to my surprise quite good and well worth owning.

My Tears Were White, Like Milk: House of Pleasures (2011)

Thanks once again to the guys over at Battleship Pretension for turning me onto a film that I would otherwise completely overlooked from 2011.  In this case, it is the French period piece titled House of Pleasures (Tolerance), which as you may have guessed focuses on life in a brothel, specifically one at the beginning of the 19th century in France.  While it may sound as this is the formula for an incredibly exploitative film, it is all but that and is instead an incredibly focused, cinematic and atmospheric study of a lifestyle and experience that is often relegated to the bizarre and profane in historical narratives.  With moments that are incredibly Kubrickian style, a contemporary soundtrack and a complete refusal to shy away from depicting the more unflattering moments of life in a brothel, House of Pleasures is sincere in what it is trying to depict.  It is important to note that the film was independently produced and eventually picked up by IFC, allowing for it to be unfiltered in its depictions, most importantly in the sexual elements of the narrative.  Bertrand Bonello's film is at times sobering, at others revelatory, but never uninteresting.  Including an excellent set of actresses, of various races and ages, House of Pleasures may well be one of the most politically correct films, about one of the more socially unacceptable topics.  More importantly, House of Pleasures stands out as one of the most beautiful films shot in 2011 and has knocked yet another film off of my previous list of my favorite films of last year, now only losing to Take Shelter and Tree of Life.  It is truly a tragedy that his film did not receive more hype, here is to hoping that at least one more person reads this post and discovers the film.

House of Pleasures focuses on the experiences of a group of women living in a brothel together, as they attempt to gain independence, while also paying off their debts to the madame of the house Marie-France (Noemie Lvovsky) who engages in the business as a means to provide for her two children.  While it is clear that Marie-France is not completely fair in her dealings with the prostitutes, she is considerably maternal to each of the women working there.  The head woman, of sorts, is Madeleine (Alice Barnole), also known as The Jewess, and she becomes the cook and maid to the other women after a tragic act of aggression by a client leaving her with a smile-like scar on her face.  Her dream from the night she was attacked becomes a point of reference throughout the film as the other girls engage in acts with various customers, most notably the woman known as The Doll, who literally acts as though she is a doll for clients and the Algerian who is often chosen by men for her foreign features. The narrative also focuses on the emersion of a new girl named Pauline (Iliana Zabeth) who is fifteen and seeks the brothel as a means to escape a dismal home life.  Covering every element of the brothel life, viewers are shown the general assembly of women as they wait for clients, as well as the more grim act of testing each woman for venereal diseases.  The film crashes climactically into one party scene, in which the women engage in an orgiastic encounter that includes masked lovers, animals and even Madeleine, scar and all.  Ultimately, the film closes with Madeleine recounting her dreams as milky white tears fall from her face.  The scene that follows completely throws the narrative off-kilter, but still manages to capture an inherent beauty in the film beyond explanation.

This narrative, as was the case with 8 Women, focuses on the experiences of a group of women in France that are to some degree voiceless.  However, avoiding the comedic, Bonello's film is sobering in its reality and brutality.  Often depicting multiple scenes at once it reminds viewers about how truly degrading and dark brothel life was in a time where sexuality and femaleness were not a thing of simultaneous power.  EAch woman is objectified within the film, whether it be the literal doll-like behavior of one girl, or the exoticization of women of color within the film, it is clear that they are assumed to be lesser than a male.  We are to assume that these women seek their own individual existence and find this to be the quickest avenue for their desires, however, the reality of the situation is that their desires are, ultimately, made a point of exploitation as they serve men who see them only as objects of  sexual gratification, which they can poor champagne over or sexually oppress as they see fit.  In the most problematic scenario, men can even act out their latent aggression on the women, as is the case with Madeleine's suitor and his knife/phallic attack, which permanently cripples her, in the sense she can no longer work within her normal brothel job.  House of Pleasures, however, never condemns these women for their actions, instead; it offers the argument that they were simply trying to find their own route to freedom in the only method they knew, something that is perfectly and poetically realized in the films closing scene.

Key Scene: The few times that Bonello uses a split screen are quite intense and add to the full element of the film's ambient existence

Netflix managed to pick this up on watch instantly, and as far as I can tell their are no plans to release it on blurry, so it may suit you to see it via Netflix before it falls into obscurity.

This Rock Has Been Waiting For Me My Entire Life: 127 Hours (2010)

As I  mentioned only a few posts ago, I am a huge fan of Danny Boyle's work.  I plan to do a complete analysis of his entire body of work at some point in the future and still have a considerable amount of his works to get through.  The most recent viewing was that of 127 Hours, the one film that worried me in his oeuevre, considering that it did not receive very much critical praise and stars one of my least favorite actors, James Franco.  To be honest as the movie began I was rather skeptical of its validity, aside from some brilliant cinematography and unusual narrative it seemed to have very little going for it in a completely fillmic sense.  I should have known better though, considering that the work was by Danny Boyle, as is so often the case with his works, he takes a situation and places it within normalcy and waits ever so patiently to take the viewers comforts away by large slaps of suspense, we see this in works like 28 Days Later... and to some extent Slumdog Millionaire.  Furthermore, I was in awe of how well delivered James Franco's performance was, and while it certainly does not cause me to place him in a tier of great actors, it was a pleasant surprise to find his presence in scenes anything but grating.  Perhaps the greatest element of this film is that it is grounded in a factual experience.  Having heard about the film for a great deal of time I knew the twists within the film, yet found each piece of narrative rewarding and engaging from his initial departure to his climactic return to civilization.  I am starting to gain some certainty about Danny Boyle's place in the filmmaking word, considering that one of his lesser films still proves to be leaps and bounds better than most of his contemporaries.

The film, as stated is based on the experiences of Aron Ralston, a carefree climbing enthusiast who spent a traumatic 127 hours trapped beneath a bolder in the canyons of Utah.  The film begins with Aron (James Franco) leaving for his trip while making his plans and location a secret to his boss, girlfriend and even mother.  It appears as though his trip will be of little difficulty, particularly considering that he runs into a duo of women hikers who he wins over with ease by showing them a cool hidden crevasse containing a pool.  While the two women clearly display interest in him, Aron is aloof to their advances and continues on his journey with indifference.  It is not much farther into this journey that he meets tragedy by slipping on a rock and becoming trapped underneath its mass.  It is at this point that he begins to panic and struggle for freedom, drinking much of his water in the process.  In a matter of hours, Aron's surival instinct kicks in and he begins using his small amount of items to help obtain freedom, as well as protect him from the constantly changing weather.  Water proves to be Aron's greatest concern, so much so that he begins to drink his water in panic, to the point of needing to rely on his urine for a small amount of hydration.  As delirium sets in, Aron begins to reflect on his life and his mistakes, something he keeps track of in his film journal.  His visions range between his tumutuous relationship with his girlfriend to his rather distanced one with his mother.  He attempts to beg for forgiveness, although he is doing it to the silence of the canyons.  He even begins to see visions of his future, a time that involves him hanging out with a yet unborn son.  After amputating his arm, Aron finally escapes the canyon and is helped by hikers in the canyon.  The closing shots explain that Aron's premonitions came true, even the one about having a child.

127 Hours is a film about self-reflection and overcoming turmoil.  However, it is unusual in that the entire process takes place within a single individuals world.  For a better portion of the film, we are only shown the experiences of Aron.  Even the moments that involve other people are stationed within his own consciousness, a fact that clearly influences the narrative.  Furthermore, what makes 127 Hours particularly unusual is that the character within the film is far from perfect.  Aron has many moments of failure and lack as a human, in most other films of that nature each action engaged in by the protagonist would be heroic.  Beyond this, Boyle's film does not shy away from some of the more gruesome and brutal elements of its story.  The film goes to great lengths to show the pain involved with amputating ones arm and Aron by no means deals with the act coolly.  Even the action of him drinking his own urine is made intense by his constant bickering and concern.  The ultimate seen of his pre-evolved materialistic nature is when he wines about the multitool his mother gave him, since it proves completely useless in helping him escape, however, he quickly realizes that when he was gifted the item he, nor his mother, could have ever imagined it would be used for such a task.  With his heroism in question, it is important to remind readers that he is quite brave and acts with strokes of genius frequently throughout the film.  This is clear when he manages to use each of his items to keep him warm in the cool desert nights, as well as his expert execution of a tourniquet, in one of the films most gruesome scenes.  Ultimately, it is not a film that intends to make Aron an unquestionable hero, but one that simply tells his story for what it is, something so completely unbelievable that it seems fictional, were it not for the presence of the person alltogether.

Key Secne: The initial urine drinking scene is done in an experimental nature, as much of the film is, but is at its best during this portion.

For those who love Danny Boyle, 127 Hours is a must own work, for those who are unsure please rent it at least, it is well worth a viewing.

There's A Storm Coming Like Nothing You've Ever Seen: Take Shelter (2011)

I really am beginning to regret making my favorite films of 2011 list so early, particularly considering that I had not seen a considerable amount of films that received critical acclaim from the year.  It is likely that films like The Artist, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy and even Drive would have replaced some of my choices.  However, I was adamant that no film I watched from last year would be more spectacular and profound than Tree of Life.  This was certainly the case, until I watched Take Shelter.  Without a doubt, this Jeff Nichols film about paranoia and the decaying of the family unit within rural America is one of the best films of the past decade and contains what may very well be the best ensemble acting performance of last year.  A film like this gives me faith in the possibilities of independent film in the next decade, considering that its budget was nothing compared to a work like Super 8 or Midnight in Paris, yet manages to exude both the thrill of cinema and honesty of good narrative better than both of the previous films combined.  I also mentioned that The Muppets film accrued much of its praise from being an astute observation of the economic woes in The United States, however, its comedic leanings lessen some of its pertinence, where as Take Shelter focuses on the same issues in a grating and inescapable manner, and for that its is also brilliant.

Take Shelter, set in Ohio, the heart of tough living American in the past few years, focuses on the daily interactions of Curtis (Michael Shannon) a working class man struggling to support his loving wife Samantha (Jessica Chastain) and the medical demands of their deaf daughter Hannah (Tova Stewart).  Curtis seems capable of dealing with his heavy demands; until he begins have hallucinatory dreams about an impending storm of yellow water that will leave nothing in its destructive path.  As a result of the paranoia that insues with his dreams, Curtis begins repairing a worn down storm shelter in his backyard, despite the economic demands of such an endeavor.  Initially realizing the absurdity of his actions, Curtis keeps his projects a secret to his wife and friends, only recruiting the help of a co-worker to help build the storm shelter.  As the dreams become more dark and the economic demands become greater, Curtis finally falters and his visions hinder his ability to be productive.  He loses his job and his wife becomes enraged with him and at one point he completely falls apart at a luncheon attacking his former friend and yelling at everyone in the room with a prophetic omen about the impending disaster.  As a result of love, or perhaps fear, Samantha follows Curtis into the shelter on a particularly stormy night and they await a passing storm.  Eventually they leave the shelter to realize that everything is fine and that their world is back to normal.  The family then takes a much needed trip to the beach where, Curtis watches Hannah become preoccupied with a storm brewing across the ocean.  Samantha steps outside and witnesses the storm herself, suggesting that Curtis was indeed right about his fears, or in a more bizarre possibility that the entire family has slipped into a destructive paranoia.

While paranoia certainly influences the narrative of the film, Take Shelter is far more concerned about the effects of the economy on family relationships, particularly when money proves an inescapable burden.  I plan not to elaborate in too great of detail on this because I am going to formulate a paper about this for an academic journal, but I will give a few general commentaries on this notion.  First off, the film inserts various brief scenes about money woes through the film, whether it be the depictions of the family eating the same meals every day, or Curtis' pricey trip to the gas pump.  All these brief additions are intended to set up a monetary demon for the family that is constantly attacking them, only to be worsened by the dangling promise of healing Hannah through a pricey medical procedure.  With these notions in place, the impending storm could represent a variety of ideas whether it be complete bankruptcy or the fears of divorce it is something that could cause a frenzied panic and, furthermore, an anxiety so great that Curtis would need to seek psychiatric advice.  In one of the films more brilliant scenes, Curtis takes his family into the house built within the shelter, one created from using a storage unit as a portable home.  It could be read as creating a sort of new sphere, separate from the private and public, considering that neither has proved beneficial to the family.  However, as the film proves, even this new creation is useless as the "storm" that influences the entire narrative finds new methods to attack Curtis and his family.

Key Scene: The dream sequence between Curtis and Samantha...you will know it when it happens.

Take Shelter is a gem of 2011 that was all but ignored.  Thanks to the excellent podcast Battleship Pretension, I was turned onto this film and I can only further their recommendation and demand that you get a copy on bluray.  It will be worth your time and money.

I Love YOu But You Have No Idea What You Are Talking About: Moonrise Kingdom (2012)

I went into Wes Anderson's newest offering with quite high expectations considering that I have yet to dislike anything the hipster-adored auteur has made.  Roughly ten minutes into the film I was uncertain as to whether or not the film would deliver considering that Anderson chose to focus almost the entire narrative on two kids.  However, as I should have expected, the film starts off in a world of irregularity and spirals into absolute absurdity and this is easily one of his better film, third only to Bottle Rocket and Rushmore.  A sweet and sentimental film, it is clear at this point in Anderson's career that he fully understands how to make a film that is both accessible to mainstream audiences and intimately familiar to his die hard fans.  Furthermore, as is often the case with his works, the film is heavily concerned with the notion of family and the decaying unity that results from financial comfort and an unhealthy amount of existential self-reflection.  Moonrise Kingdom takes this theme from Anderson's films a step further by becoming preoccupied with a coming of age story that is both laughably honest and heartrendingly mature. 

Set in the 1960's, Moonrise Kingdom focuses on the burgeoning love relationship between two young children, the orphan Sam (Jared Gilman) who is the butt of the jokes within his scout troupe and is completely overlooked by the overly zealous Scoutmaster Ward (Edward Norton) and the well to do Suzy (Kara Hawyard) who is completely ignored by her divisive lawyer parents, played excellently by Bill Murray and Frances McDormand.  Meeting by chance at a local performance, starring Suzy, the two agree to meet and run away in the woods to live together in happy uninterrupted bliss.  This plan appears to be perfect until the individuals who previously ignored them, suddenly decide to pursue the lost couple.  This expedition is led by the simpleminded island police officer Captain Sharp (Bruce Willis) who follows the book and calls Social Security (Tilda Swinton) to inform her of the lost orphan.  It becomes apparent that despite their best efforts that Suzy and Sam will have to part, especially after they are discovered at an uncharted inlet of the island.  Despite the attempts by both parties to part the couple, the wiley group of scouts agrees to help Sam reunite with Suzy.  This agreement is enacted with absurdist results, considering that Sam is at one point struck by lightning from the storm that is to lead to an upcoming flood.  Social Security finally intervenes with the intention of taking Sam to a juvenile correction facility, however, at the last moment Captain Sharp agrees to adopt Sam and raise him on the island close to Suzy, despite the clear disapproval of her parents.  All ends well, with Ward placed back in charge of his scouts and with Suzy closer to her family, although not completely reconnected.  The film closes with a beautiful painting of the now named inlet; of course it should be no surprise that the name is Moonrise Kingdom.

After viewing the film, I could not wait to have discussions about Anderson's newest work with many of my friends who share a passion for the indie filmmaker.  Many of the responses were what I expected, often citing how much they loved the quirky soundtrack or the pitch perfect performance of Bill Murray, but I found myself hung up on a particular statement from a friend.  He noted that, in his opinion, many of the characters were underdeveloped, particularly Suzy's parents.  I agreed with him wholeheartedly on this commentary and began considering why this occurred.  I am quite certain that most of this can be explained by the notion that the film is about the two kids and not any of the other characters.  We are allowed to see Suzy's parents as failing drunkards, because that is how she looks at them.  Similarly, we only see Sam's orphan parents for a brief moment and it is assumed that this brief interaction is exactly like his own interactions with the elder couple.  In fact, when one considers that Anderson clearly intends the other characters to be manifestations of Suzy and Sam, whether it be the bratty younger brothers of Suzy's or the almost demonic fellow scouts of Sam's.  The more complex characters are then lesser realized, like Captain Sharp who is stoic and stalwart, because that is the concept that Sam knows, however, when looked at by Suzy he becomes something less.  The more obscure characters are then caricatured and almost impossible, which is evident in Social Security, Commander Pierce (Harvey Keitel), and most blatantly with the too cool for camp Cousin Ben (Jason Schwartzman).  It is a new vision for Wes Anderson filmically speaking and I am all for it and can only hope for more in the future.

Key Scene: The Dance Party

If you even remotely enjoy Wes Anderson you will love Moonrise Kingdom and it is only now making its run through theaters.  Go and watch it immediately.

I Won't Say A Word: The Artist (2011)

A friend of mine described The Artist as being as beautifully simple as a well-drawn straight line, and while this synopsis is an appropriate way to describe such a stellar piece of filmmaking, I do believe that beneath the films rather simple plot and earnest composition is something grand, complex and intense. The best picture winner at last years Oscars, The Artist is a friendly movie, one that is accessible to a wide array of people, despite entrenching itself in a narrative format that is well over a century old.  Between the peppering in of some rather notable actors and a heavy dose of spectacular experimental cinematography, The Artist formulates into something so watchable that it almost seems as though the film was curtailed specifically for each viewer sitting in the audience.  With this being said, I am not quite sure it is deserved of the accolade of last year's best picture.  Simply put, it is far to minimal in its complexity to be so praiseworthy.  The Artist is by no means bad, and while it is certainly not as heady as a film like Tree of Life, it is not as socially realized as something like Moneyball.  This is purely an aside on my part though, because The Attist is genuinely quite good and easily one of the best films of last year, just not the absolute best.  Furthermore, everything in this film was much more captivating when it was done in Singin' In The Rain.

The Artist focuses on the career of veteran silent film actor George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) who is basking in his relative power as a big Hollywood name.  It would appears as though George is assuredly a staple within Hollywood, considering his incredible wealth and loyal fan base, and despite a rather tumultuous relationship with his wife, George is clearly on his way to making much more money.  However, things change drastically with the introduction of sound to cinemas.  At first, George dismisses the innovation as nothing more than a fad and continues to make his movies, at one point aiding an aspiring actress named Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo) in the process.  While it is clear that he has feelings for the young girl, George is too tied down with work and a frustrating marital life to pursue a relationship.  As time passes, George begins to fade from the spotlight, due almost entirely to his refusal to step into the world of sound acting and he slowly falls into a realm of crippling debt.  In the mean time, Peppy excels as an actress receiving part after part within film until she finally gains a leading role, one which plays off of a fake birthmark on her lip, and idea originally posited by George.  George's despair continues to grow as he loses money and becomes disillusioned by the changing Hollywood system that no longer favors his presence.  As the sadness becomes too much, George attempts suicide, only to be saved at the very last moment by Peppy, who admits to having a fondness for him ever since their initial encounter behind stage.  Realizing a way to twist the advancement of sound in their favor George and Peppy become dance partners using their movement and the subtle sound of tap to bring George's career back and we has viewers can easily imagine that the end result is the couples happiness.

The question remains then as to why a silent film with a rather conventional plot did indeed win Best Picture at this years Academy Awards.  A handful of people will jump to the notion that the Academy only picks feel good movies for winners.  While this does happen quite often with the Oscar winner, films like No Country For Old Men and American Beauty stand as contradictions to this notion.  Another argument posited is that a political commentary overrules the logic for a decision, while this certainly rules the decisions of categories like Best Foreign Film or Best Documentary, it seems a bit unlikely for Best Picture winners as the past decade has seen a considerably diverse set of films win.  If anything, I would be more inclined to argue that the winners have been decided on their global appeal.  This is at least the case for the past three winners.  Slumdog Millionaire is certainly global, with its British director and Indian subject matter.  The King's Speech is less global, but nonetheless manages to encapsulate a global theme in discussing the emergence of World War II.  In this case, The Artist is even more widespread than the previous two considering that it involves a French director and actors from France, England and The United States amongst others.  Furthermore, it manages to finds its setting in Hollywood, in some way validating the entire existence that is The Academy of Motion Pictures.  Now there is always the possibility that the film won simply because it is quite good, but that would be giving the frivolity that is The Oscars far too much credit.

If you are lucky, The Artist may still be floating around a theater near you.  If so, watch it there, because it makes a world of difference.

We’ve Both Spent Our Lives Looking For The Weaknesses In One Another: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011)

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy was one of the films that I knew I had missed out on by not seeing it in theaters.  Fortunately, for me, the advances in home entertainment have allowed for theater like experiences to exist outside of actual theaters, and this, combined with a Redbox coupon allowed me to view the spy thriller in a setting that replicated the big screen.  The grandiosity of such a film is only helped by viewing it in an encompassing manner, particularly considering that the film is both incredibly cinematic and narratively dense.  Viewing the film is no passive activity and between the brilliant screen adaptation of the seventies miniseries and a veritable onslaught of Academy Award deserving performances, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is everything one could desire in a thriller.  It is becoming rarer and rarer to find a thriller that is not easily predictable or repetitive and despite knowing the plot to this film prior to engaging with it, I still found myself on the edge of my sofa wondering what would happen next and at what point each character would meet their demise.  The release of this film, along with The King’s Speech a year earlier is quickly restoring my faith in the presence of British filmmaking, something that for so long seemed to  be carried solely by Danny Boyle.  Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is a giant achievement in reminding moviegoers of how complex and magical a piece of cinema can be when executed correctly.

The plot for Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is a long, drawn out piece of narrative that is to be experience and would suffer from the slightest of spoilers.  However, I will attempt to give a cursory explanation as to the workings of the film in order to allow readers some semblance of what the workings of the film.  The narrative places those watching within the aftermath of a recent assassination of a British spy, one Jim Prideaux (Mark Strong) who was sent by a higher up with the intent of ratting out a Russian spy within their own forces.  His assassination is unexpected and the result of an overreaction by persons within the Russian infiltrate.  Realizing the emerging danger within such actions, British intelligence brings their best spy George Smiley (Gary Oldman) out of retirement in hopes of finding the rat within their organization.  Armed only with his wits and the help of a younger agent, Smiley delves into an investigation that leads him to the realization that every individual within British Intelligence is suspect to odd behavior, including himself.  Smiley quickly becomes a point of contempt by members of the agency and is watched as closely as those he is investigating.  Travelling between Britain, Hungary and France Smiley unfolds a trail of deceit and paranoia that also forces him to reflect on his own past, one that is full of loss, despair and disillusionment.  Ultimately, the film ends with an explosive climax of realizations on both national and personal scales fading out with what will perhaps prove to be the best use of Julio Iglesias music ever.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is an incredibly nostalgic film.  It would seem odd to call a spy film about the divisive effects of The Cold War to be such, but the signs are all there.  The characters exist in a world very similar to that of the television series Mad Men, when unspoken rules of etiquette and social mores outweighed individuals desires to prove a point or rise in the world.  This notion is only double when placed within a British society that highly values manners and formalities.  The characters in the film clearly exist to provoke viewers into reflecting on a past when spies could get drunk at parties and bureaucracy could be overturned simply by knowing the right individuals.  Despite reflecting fondly on the past, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is also fairly critical of the era, making note of the incredibly misogynist existence of the agency, manifested quite clearly in the dismissal of the suspicions of one female spy within the film.  Furthermore, the other women within the film are either relegated to the corners of the scenes or completely non-existant, as is the case with Smiley’s wife Ann, who never makes an appearance, despite the film existing in multiple time periods.  Furthermore, when characters engage in behaviors seen as socially unacceptable behavior they do so behind close doors, because their being spies only exacerbates their possibility for exploitation.  To some extent, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy plays out like an old school James Bond film in that it seems cool on a surface level, yet is clearly problematic when one looks at each of the pieces individually.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is profound.  It is well worth owning and in this case bluray is the only way to go.

If We're Seen, We Have To Leave: The Secret World of Arriety (2010)

Studio Ghibli is essentially a flawless company that has only gained a larger global acclaim with the help of Disney and the douchy shirt wearing John Lasseter.  While the handful of anime films released by this Disney subsidiary certainly have their father company to thank it is clear that most of the credit for their success should be directed to Hayao Miyazaki, the now aging director of anime classics such as Howl's Moving Castle and Spirited Away.  While Miyazaki has stepped down from the directors seat he was present as a writer, and, undoubtedly, as an advisor on Studio Ghibli's most recent offering, The Secret World of Arrietty which is based off the British novel The Borrowers written by Mary Norton some sixty years earlier.  While The Secret World of Arrietty is nowhere close to Miyazaki's masterpiece Howl's Moving Castle it is a clear work of art and a solid example of the cinematic possibilities of animation, a fact that many film critics still seem hesitant to embrace.  Like many of Studio Ghibli's other offerings, The Secret World of Arrietty is both accessible, yet quite broad in its commentary and philosophical pondering, and with the exception of the work of Satoshi Kon, I have trouble thinking of another anime director who is as concerned with the simplest of details in their work.  A key animator, under the tutelage of Miyazaki, it is clear that the films director Hiromasa Yonebayashi is prepared to take the reigns for the now well-respected Studio Ghibli and I know for one that I am excited at the future prospects.

As is the case with many works tied to Miyazaki, the film concerns itself with the experiences of particularly young individuals, however, these youth are rarely offered world situations that are remotely possible in the physical realm and often rely on worlds of magic and make believe for their existence.  The Secret World of Arrietty one such film as it focuses on the life of the title character Arrietty who is, along with her mother Homily and father Pod, a Borrower.  Borrowers are miniature versions of human beings that borrow small items from humans that they can live without missing, such as thread, needles, sugar and tissue.  It is their belief that they must remain out of the sight of humans because to be spotted by humans would assure their destruction, because as Pod make clear, their curiosity would lead them to ruin the Borrower lifestyle.  Arrietty seems set to abide by these rules and looks forward to her time as Borrower, until she is spotted accidentally by a human named Shawn.  Shawn despite being very calm in his approaches, given an life-threatening heart disease, is dismissed by Arrietty who assures him that no good can come of their interactions.  Arrietty's reservations are assured when Shawn's aunt becomes obsessed with catching the Borrowers, because she has been living in seclusion for years after public mocking for her previous claims of spotting such creatures.  As such, she hires exterminators to catch the Borrowers, much to the dismay of Shawn.  Realizing the impossibilities of unity, Shawn sets out to help Arrietty and her family move from the house to a new location and luckily, the task is made considerably easier by Arrietty's father running into another borrower, who provides guidance to a new location in a more urban area of Japan.  Both Arrietty and Shawn part with sorrow in their heart, yet they realize that their summer will represent a lasting memory in their lives of something magical and sentimental.  It is heartbreaking, but in a way that reminds viewers of the possibility of good in humanity.

When I reviewed Paprika awhile back I made note of the problems technology presented to women's relationship in society.  I argued that through objectification and disconnect women were oppressed on at least a theoretical level.  When referencing this, it is interesting to discover that the worlds of not only this film, but most other Studio Ghibli films place women in a rather progressive place.  Arrietty is an independent girl who desperately desires to carve her own path in the world and clearly dismisses the notions of domesticity pushed forcefully by her mother.  This is a theme that manifests itself in other Ghibli works, most notably in Howl's Moving Castle and Spirited Away.  Even the males within these works diverge from gender norms, Pod is a masculine in his demeanor, but is clearly an affectionate and loving father, while Shawn is in tune with his emotional side and promotes unity over the possibility of oppressive power.  In fact, it is clear that this film, as well as others from the studio, suggest that such traditions of gender are problematic and often only reside in the minds of an older generation.  With this in mind, a character like the aunt within the film are more understandable as villains, not only does she represent someone out to destroy the Borrowers, but she also wishes to maintain traditional gender norms as well.  It is interesting as well to compare this character to say the work of Ozu, in which gender mores were propagated by an aging male figure, in many Miyazaki films the paternal oppressor is not only not present, but rarely acknowledged.  All is not perfect in these films though, as they often end with the suggestion that the characters have found some sort of heteronormative relationship to engage in, this is certainly the case in The Secret World of Arrietty, as Arrietty is shown in the closing credits accepting a gift from Spiller, a male Borrower who has shown interest in her.  Problematic for sure these images must be criticized, however, as a whole the film does question gender roles and their apparent concreteness.  It suggests a possibility for fluidity and the evolution from an older ignorant tradition.

While The Secret World of Arrietty has been out in Japan for nearly two years, it is only now completing its U.S. theatrical run and it is certainly worth checking out in theaters.  It was my first anime theatrical viewing and the fully realized world of Arriety pours off the screen beautifully.  Also, I have to agree with my girlfriend on how awesome Arriety's room is in the film.

no look inthe eyes: Film Socialisme (2010)

Upon finishing Everything Is Cinema: The Working Life of Jean-Luc Godard by author and film critic Richard Brody I came away with two clear notions.  The first is that Godard has left an indelible mark on the history and construction of cinema since his initial feature film Breathless.  Second, I realized that he has become one of the most divisive and belligerent filmmakers of the past two decades.  While I constantly sing his praises for his earlier work, it is clear that his desire to be a political dissident and destroy the structure that is video have done nothing but ruin his artistic output.  Film Socialisme, could well have been one of the best films of this decade were Godard to have reigned in his animosity for the rest of the world, given its clearly cinematic nature and experimental narrative.  Tragically, his desire to distance viewers, particularly those not speaking French, with incoherent subtitles, like the one that titles this blog entry and his spiraling into ungrounded political attacks cause the film to quickly become unwatchable.  It was only a matter of time before I found myself guessing when Godard would throw in an image of Hitler, and to no surprise, he did so in some of the films closing scenes.  Not to dismiss the work completely, Film Socialism does indeed offer a few moments of cinematic expression rare in contemporary art house cinema, yet as a whole the film is clearly a failed attempt at creating works similar to the early works of Dziga Vertov, or anything by Dusan Makavejev, and ends up lacking the one thing that Godard always had going for him...hipness.  Film Socialisme is a film that attempts to mix political commentary with the exploration of human relationships, however, the concoction lacks far too many ingredients to prove successful, the most apparent being a sane and accessible director.

While Film Socialisme plays out as a series of vignettes, it is possible to glean some basic narrative from the various characters presented throughout the film.  The initial setting of Godard's work is on a cruise ship, as the images cut between glossy shots of the ships deck and the ocean to shots of passengers dancing in a nightclub which are captured in terrible quality by what appears to be a cellphone camera.  In the midst of this entire structure, we are introduced to various members of the cruise, including an aged war criminal, a former official for the United Nations and what appears to be a Soviet detective.  The characters interact to some extent, but without a complete understanding of the multiple languages throughout the film, it is impossible to verify with any certainty their conversations or the seeming ties between each character.  Even when American viewers are offered a familiar language in that of musician Patti Smith she only rambles incoherently about a variety of things.  With little explanation the film then cuts to the interactions of two children as they cope with coming to age and realizing the frivolity of their young lives and as such they begin to question there parents on a variety of issues, including notions of political justice and global equality.  Their conversations are being recorded, for apparently no reason by a film crew who possess clearly revolutionary ties.  These moments while completely absurd reflect Godard's traditional styling; it is when the film reaches the third act that everything falls apart.  The film falls into a slew of still images, news reels and even the title menu for a film, with sections that represent major world locations, including but not limited to Barcelona, Egypt and Odessa.  What connection Godard is attempting to make is quite unclear, but he obviously associates many of the images to fascist rule and violence is shown throughout, particularly as it relates to the Middle Eastern countries depicted.  At one point earlier in the film, Godard even inserts this popular YouTube video again for no apparent reason.  The film closes with the words no comment, implying that Godard desires no confrontation about the images he has depicted, despite their clearly agitating intent and fallacious nature.  Furthermore, in a bizarre twist, Godard filmed the cruise scenes on the recently ill-fated Costa Concordia making the disparate nature of the film almost prophetic.

To dismiss the political and critical commentary of Film Socialisme would be unfair, despite the clear disinterests of Godard to his viewers and society in general.  Film Socialisme is primarily concerned to great detail with what role the movie image plays in societal change.  As the film's tagline suggests, "Freedom is Expensive," making Godard's choice to stage an early portion of the film on a cruise ship pertinent.  The individuals on this ship are attempting to escape their problematic pasts and their large amounts of wealth provide them such an opportunity, yet any attempts to capture their escapes are ruined either by the lack of proper technology, which is best seen in the grainy footage of a party on the ship or inability to capture images properly as occurs with shots of individuals talk to people off camera who are never shown, or the scene later in the film in which one of the revolutionary filmmakers is killed off screen, but the stagnant camera is unable to follow the action.  Godard desperately wants his viewers to understand that the power of video as a means of social justice is impossible and the third act of his film attempts to drive this notion home by suggesting that we as a society have seen atrocities in the past via video and have done little to affect change as a result.  Film Socialisme, as such is a manifesto on the fading power of video in an evolving technocracy that allows those in power to escape media condemnation.  It very much had the possibility of revolutionizing our current cinema standards, yet in the hands of an aging Godard, Film Socialisme is nothing more than a preachy old man shaking his fists with rage and fury so as to ruin any validity to his argument.

Film Socialisme is a unique viewing experience, without a doubt, however, to purchase the film would be illogical unless you are a die hard Godard supporter.  The director has lost his touch and seems incapable of ever gaining it back.  Rent the film if you find yourself intrigued by its controversy.