Have I Changed, Or Has The City Changed?: Memories Of Underdevelopment (1968)

With the viewing of this film earlier this week I can now say definitively that at some point in my life I have seen every film on the TIFF essential 100 list.  This might seem a little silly for those who do not regularly read my blog posts, but this has been an endeavor that was well over two years in the making.  Many of the films on the list were quite easy to come by, but since it is an incredibly diverse and decidedly globalized list some of the works were just near impossible to find, particularly Memories of Underdevelopment, which as you may know is a Cuban film about revolution set in the heart of the sixties.  Fortunately, my attending a rather big name school for graduate studies has afforded me the chance to watch a copy, all be it, on a VHS player, but it is by no means the worst venue for some of the films I had to dig up, I think specifically of Wavelength and Pather Panchali when reflecting on this quest.  It is quite appropriate that I ended with something like Memories of Underdevelopment, because it stands apart from so many on the list (all quite excellent films in their own rights) as something uniquely its own.  A hardened cinephile will quickly recognize the various cinematic traditions exploding on the screen, whether it be flares of cinema verite, or a heavy use of Fellini's humorous absurdism, in fact, one can even pick out a healthy dose of American rock'n'roll influence, despite being a film made in Cuba during the height of its revolution.  What makes Memories of Underdevelopment such a powerful film, however, is that despite its clearly personal commentary on the state of Cuba politically and its inevitable extension to those occupying the spaces of the multiracial, multi-classed island, the film somehow manages to exude a certain degree of awareness about the larger questions of humanity, personal struggle and the ever present concern of aging and existential angst.  Filmmaker, Tomás Gutiérrez Alea blows the lid off of cinematic conventions, by layering cinematic tricks, with masterful metaphors never allowing the narratives decidedly non-linear structure to ever provide any degree of comfort or intimacy to the viewer, yet the message is so personal and impassioned that it is hard not to be fully gripped from the violent opening of the film to its introspective closing moments.

Memories of Underdevelopment has a few narratives interwoven within the particular experiences of Sergio (Sergio Corrieri) a well-to-do Cuban whose travels and living in Paris have clouded his judgement of Cuba both as a country and as global political identity.  Sergio purposefully uses the term underdeveloped to refer the the nature of Cuba as it moves towards the seventies, suggesting it to be indicative of its relationship with countries like the United States, as well as a reflection of the larger social landscape.  Of course, Sergio is quite well off, therefore, he is able to more easily move about Cuban streets and, subsequently, engage with people of various classes.  Yet, as a single bachelor, Sergio spends a considerable portion of his time attempting to hook up and manages to find success with an young girl named Elena (Daisy Granados) whose doe-eyed demeanor is both built up as a point of attraction for Sergio, as well as a sign of weakness which he is happy to exploit.  Of course, his involvement with Elena is far more fleeting and desires nothing more than casual sex, yet, when it is revealed that Elena is indeed a virgin, and expects Sergio to now wed her after their intimate encounter, Sergio moves into a panic, attempting to avoid any degree of commitment.  It is, however, revealed that Elena, aside from still being a teenage, is also suffering from a high degree of mental illness, or at the very least a severe case of depression.  These changes result in Elena's family stepping in to seek reprimands for Sergio's behavior, although the wealth and well-being of Sergio allow for him to escape without as much as a scratch, able to float about Cuba with his condescending gaze fixated on all those lesser than him.  The film shows this rather simple narrative while continually intercutting between popular film and political footage, with a rather obvious yet incredibly poignant message along the way.

The notions of class and privilege cannot be ignored within Memories of Underdevelopment, and certainly should not, considering the political climate in Cuba at the time of the film's release.  Firstly, Sergio is intended to be a loathsome character, his Westernized, views of the world allow him to look at his country with some degree of disgust, suggesting that the people are to some degree underprivileged and, therefore, decidedly less than he is, especially since he has seen the "better," and considerably whiter parts of the world.  It is no irony that the people he seems to condemn the most are of considerably darker complexion than himself and as a result less connected with the Western ideal.  This frame of reference helps explain how he goes about seducing and taking advantage of Elena, who is noticeably darker than himself, her suffering from a mental disorder, only helps to convince of his ability as the closest thing to a "white oppressor" to take advantage of the mentally troubled and, as a result, savage Cuban woman.  It is a narrative that steeps itself within the realm of colonial criticism, which is no small irony, given that Cuba would be dealing with a colonial gaze via America, whose concerns for their production of weapons would lead to high levels of hostility, leading to surveillance and infamous photographs at the Bay of Pigs, completely unbeknownst to the people of Cuba.  Much in the same way, Sergio lives in a high rise condo and uses the lens of an expensive camera to spy upon the people around his building, whose class and racial complexion are othered and exploited, even gazed upon at Sergio's leisure.  It is, in fact, these sequences that seem to sum up the issues of the film beautifully.  The film seems to ask what good can come from change and a desire to alter the landscape of a country that is being passed down and decided by a for so high up as to be literally detached from the ground.  Their understanding of the problems does not speak to the deaths happening on the ground, only the lofty ambitions to be equal to the West, although this idea, as the narrative seems to hint, will never, and can never happen.

Key Scene:  There is a nice repeat montage of some dancing and striptease scenes in the middle of the film that is experimentally sound and metaphorically powerful.

This is a doozy to come buy and does not appear to be receiving an American release in future, as such I strongly recommend watching it but will leave you to your own devices to figure out how to do so.

This Isn't A Novel, This Is A Film. A Film Is Life: Weekend (1967)

My last review of a Godard film was less than positive.  I find the director to be more pretentious and less accessible than he has been in previous decades and appears to have no concern with making any sort of relationship with his viewers.  This problem appears to have really occurred within the past two decades and only seems to worsen with each of his subsequent films.  With that in mind, there was a time when he was a master of non-linear cinema that pushed the envelopes of the profane image in film and what political purposes a piece of cinema could provide.  Weekend, one of Godard's more difficult to obtain films, and perhaps his most curious works.  I would by no means place it above my personal favorite Alphaville, nor would I say it is better than Breathless or Contempt, however, it would most certainly find itself jostling for the fourth or fifth spot on a list of his key works.  At this point in Godard's rather controversial career, he had yet to have fallen completely out of regard to many critics and had one of his more respected followings second only to his heightened fame during the French New Wave.  Politically speaking, at this point in his career the outspoken filmmaker was mastering his Marxist heavy voice, one that was at times critical of the contempt directed at the bourgeois, while also being completely aware of the legitimate suffering faced by many foreigners and working class persons of Paris during the late 60's.  In a fashion that could be called Godardian in its creation, the director manages to take what we assume to be a comedy for a better portion of the film and completely drop it on its head, ultimately becoming a dark horror film about societal disconnect and a literal man eat man mentality that emerged with the obsession with consumerism that popped up in the mid-1900's.  If we were to take this solely on its political ideologies and how the narrative pokes fun at French history in order to advance his point, this would be Godard's masterpiece, however, it lacks a complete character evolution that has become so integral to the filmmaker.  To be fair though, the character count in this film is quite large and he does manage to make each person interact substantially with the world around him and for that Godard should be praised.  Ultimately, Weekend is a film that exudes the temperament and concerns of late sixties commentaries while still managing to possess a timelessness, perhaps the most Godard thing about each of his films.

Weekend, for what contextual narrative it possesses, focuses on a bickering married couple known as the Durands.  There is Corinne (Mireille Darc) a soft-spoken housewife who may or may not partake in bizarre sexual encounters in her free time and Roland (Jean Yanne) an explosively angry man who clearly suffers from impotent rage, something he takes out on various individuals throughout the film.  The Durand's are attempting to make it through the French countryside to make it to Corinne's dying father with the intent of racking up a huge inheritance.  However, the two also have the intention of killing one another in order to reap the money for themselves and each of their respective lovers.  The tension that results from such underlying confrontations influences how they engage with the various characters they meet on their pseudo-pilgrimage.  The people they encounter range from the mundane, such as two politically fueled garbagemen to a Mozart praising pianist who claims to be the worst musician alive, as well as the completely absurd as is the case with a man who claims to be the love child of Alexander Dumas and God or the ditsy version of Emily Bronte and her mentally challenged friend Tom Thumb.  A large portion of the interactions within the film end in rather violent means often in shootouts, wrecks, and even incineration, clearly the result of the couples unfulfilled desire to murder one another.  Not only are these interactions clearly frustrating to both Corinne and Roland, they also prove as time wasting endeavors that ultimately mean that they are unable to meet up with Corrine's father and obtain their inheritance.  This failure leads to the couple running into a group of cannibals that eventually kill Roland and cook his body, along with that of other people and a pig, making the statement on Roland's character blatant.  After a seemingly inexplicable shootout between feuding rebels Corrine is depicted returning to the cannibal camp and engaging in a meal, one that includes the flesh of Roland stating that she will eat more of him in a little bit.

It would be easier to comment on what Godard does not comment on in this film than what he does decide to criticize.  It is clear throughout the narrative that the controversial director intends to poke fun at bourgeois privilege, Marxist revolutionaries, guerilla warfare, capitalist frivolity, neo-classicism and racial pride amongst other things.  Furthermore, as is always the case with Godard he clearly intended to deconstruct the notion of cinematic language, so much so that he breaks from his traditional modernist leanings into the post-modern realm and breaks the fourth wall by allowing for the characters to acknowledge their own presence within the film, going so far as to note that they only meet crazy people within the film.  I could go into detail about each of these notions within Weekend, but I am far more inclined to discuss how influenced Godard was by video and television production within this film specifically.  First off, Godard's choice of Darc and Yanne as lead actors reflects his preoccupation with the still new form of media as both of the actors were well regarded for their roles on television by this time in the sixties, but this is only relative to what serves as a stylistic component to his entire film.  Composed as a series of vignettes, Weekend often fades to black inexplicably and repeatedly, something closely associated with cutting to commercials in television.  The genius here comes when Godard simply cuts to more footage of the film.  To Godard, Weekend, film in general, and society as a whole existed in a vacuum of commercialism and television was simply the newest venue with which to tap into the capitalist venture.  With this notion in mind it is somewhat easier to understand where Godard is going with the various diatribes portrayed in the film, almost nonsensical in composition, these various commentaries reflect the fast-based and often jarring style of commercials during television breaks, each does not necessarily preceed or proceed the other, yet they all exist within the same vein of trying to influence the subconscious to desire a particular product, in the case of Godard, to adhere to a particular ideology.  However, as Godard was clever enough to make many of the commentaries contradictory, as is the case with commercially fueled capitalist outputs.  Nothing coexists with the world of Weekend, it is a fabrication to our own world of capitalism, in which no two ideologies can exist simultaneously, because to do so would ruin the competitiveness inherent to the practice.

Key Scene: The traffic jam tracking shot seen is almost incomprehensible in its magnitude and the payoff is well worth the wait.

I was lucky enough to see this a few days ago at a local theater, however, for most people this film had existed in a region lock trap of inaccessibility.  Fortunately, as of a two days ago the film was announced as an upcoming title for The Criterion Collection and should prove to be a great purchase.

We're Always A Step Behind: Shiri (1999)

Shiri, sometimes referred to as Swiri, was for quite awhile the highest grossing film in Korean cinema's sporadic history, going so far as to beat out sales for Titanic within Korea that year.  While Shiri is by no means a stellar piece of cinematic acheivement, it is certainly an enjoyable film with much to offer in the way of an action flick.  Vibrantly film, at times recalling a Wong Kar-Wai film, Je-kyu Kang's work is what one should expect from a thriller film.  However, what makes Shiri an exception to the general nature of action films is its incredibly heavy focus on the political nature of North and South Korea, something that becomes quite evident from the opening shots of the film.  As is no surprise to anybody who has remotely paid attention to the world over the past twenty-five years, North and South Korea are sworn enemies and their attempts to reconcile always fail miserably.  Shiri focuses on these issues in great detail and even attempts, at times, to offer optimistic solutions to the divisive state of things, however, as is integral to a action film, there are good guys and bad guys and in the case of this film they are clearly divided between national lines, almost as if the DMZ were the separating force.  Ultimately, this film full of Korean superstars exists first as a well-executed action film and secondly as proof that Korea can hold its own on a global scale, both in art house films and in big budget works as well.

Shiri begins with the training of a group of North Korean soldiers in a remote part of the Communist nation.  The trainees depicted engage in a variety of ruthless activities that range from bayonet practice of living individuals to a race assembling a gun to shoot the person next to them, all with the intent of creating an elite group of fighters to place within South Korea as a sort of sleeper cell.  This display sets of the underlying plot of the entire film, as the group will attempt to steal a explosive liquid material with a power equitable to an atomic bomb.  The central figure within the film is an unseen sniper known as Shiri, who has taken it upon herself to wipeout various South Korean leaders and diplomats, causing a considerable amount of unrest within Seoul and its surrounding provinces.  As is necessary to any good action film, a set of relationships and romances evolve and devolve throughout the film, particularly between partner detectives Yu Jong-won (Han Suk-kyu) and Lee Jang-gil (Song Kang-ho).  Yu constantly frets about accidentally killing Lee, while also panicking about the imminent marriage to his fiance Yi Myung-hyun, played masterfully by Kim Yunjin of LOST fame.  Each attempt by this triangle to deal with their relationships is halted by the ever present threat of total destruction at the hands of a nearly indistinguishable bomb.  The climax of the film takes place at a "friendly" soccer game between North and South Korea, aimed at helping to bond the nations; yet, it is precisely at this place that the bomb is intended to be detonated.  Through tough actions and quick thinking, the two detectives are able to prevent the bomb from exploding, however, for Yu it has very problematic consequences, as he realizes his own fiance was involved with the sleeper cell and had spent the entire time under a false alias, she herself, was none other than Shiri the entire time.

The commentary within Shiri is clearly one intended to critique and question the issue of a seemingly ideological divide between two struggling countries.  As the few documentaries available show, North Korea lives under a guise of self-sustenance, but is actually struggling to feed its ever expanding population, similarly, South Korea struggles to succeed on a global market, despite being relatively powerless to compete with well established global powers.  Shiri clearly critiques the divide between the two countries and uses the soccer game as a blatant metaphor for the necessity of unification.  On a more filmic level, Shiri is preoccupied with notions of identity, particularly those of North and South Korean, which to a Western eye are indistinguishable.  The fact that Shiri can steal the identity of a woman from South Korea placed within a mental institute with little to no problem is indicative of the political forces influencing the divide between the two nations.  It is not a matter of race, religion, or to much an extent class but a political pressure that has plagued the two nations for well over a half century.  In a rather simple comparison, it is the much like our own Cold War in that each side fears the destructive possibilities of the other, yet neither country possesses the means to outright destroy the other.  The bomb within the film is a water-like substance that is indistinguishable from the rejuvenating substance except when it is both placed under a light source and heated to an incredibly high temperature.  This liquid is much like the peoples of North and South Korea, they are calm and peaceful to the eye, yet to do the fueling of political rhetoric and misguided ideologies, it is possible for either side to destroy the other within seconds.  Unity is impossible due to a fiery paranoia that nothing seems to squelch.  While Shiri is optimistic of possible reunification, it is clear that the film gladly exploits this fear for a great film narrative and its high revenues reflect the ideas of South Korea far to greatly too ignore.

Key Scene: The entire composition and editing of the soccer game is something of a marvel to view

You could say that Shiri has become "the movie" that reflects New Korean Cinema, while it is certainly not a profound piece of filmmaking it is certainly worth taking a look at and Netflix has copies available so you are only hurting yourself by not checking it out.

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.

They're Just Flying Around, Looking Dangerous, Getting By On Their Looks: The Informant! (2009)

I remember hearing about this film during an NPR interview and being instantly intrigued by how bizarre the film sounded.  At that point in time, I was not quite versed enough in film to associate the work with director Steven Soderbergh, despite having seen all the Ocean's movies and even owning his genius comedy Schizopolis.  When watching this film I could not get over how absurdly fictitious the film was, yet so incredibly believable.  I assumed it to be some excellent fabrication of all the worst problems in The United States as seen by Soderbergh.  This was how I was feeling until the film ended and I realized that it was by no mean fictitious, but indeed a very real story, on that had occurred right underneath Americans noses in the nineties.  What is delivered with a film like The Informant! is a story so fantastical and reprehensible that a viewer can only make light of it, for to take such a story serious would be an incredibly depressing endeavor.  I want to refer to the film as a piece of conspiracy cinema, because it is so entrenched in a anti-government paranoia, yet the fact of the matter is that the main character was deserved in his concerns for he was legitimately engaging in illegal behavior.  Perhaps it is Matt Damon's excellent performance or the possibility that the film only works in the crafty hands of Steven Soderbergh, but damn if this is not one of the most overlooked films of 2009.

The films focus is on Mark Whitacre (Matt Damon) a wholesome agricultural engineer turned businessman at Illinois based business ADM.  A pedantic, walking encyclopedia, Mark discovers that his company is engaging in illegal price fixing affairs and draws this to the attention of his superiors.  Rather confused by the claim, Mark's superiors take his accusations seriously and bring in the FBI to begin an investigation.  The FBI agents, played spot on by Scott Bakula and Joel McHale begin questioning a considerably helpful staff at ADM only to be informed by Mark that his superiors are indeed lying to the government.  At this point, the agents recruit Mark to help with their investigation as a sort of inside man to the going-ons of ADM on a global scale, particularly their relations with their Asian affiliates who appear to be the most active in the price gouging.  As the case grows bigger so do Mark's accusations and inabilities, when asked to provide specific details or to tap conversations Mark consistently evades the tasks, claiming that he either cannot perform the task or has obtained a sudden loss of memory to a situation.  Faltering between incredibly jovial behavior and insanity Mark clearly suffers from delusions of grandeur, which come to fruition when it is realized by an investigator at the now closed ADM that Mark himself had been engaging in his own illicit monetary scams and had indeed used the entire gouging accusation as a distraction for his own transferring of funds to the tune of nearly ten million dollars.  Even when Mark is faced with the blatant facts that he has committed serious fraud he smiles and claims that his actions were rather arbitrary compared to his superiors.  When told that their actions were indeed fabricated and that he would have to spend time in jail, Mark becomes furious and claims that he was nothing more than a puppet for the FBI.  In his fury, he attempts to bring down the agents he aided, by claiming they assaulted him and is successful in removing one of them from service before being jailed.  The film closes with an interview with Mark from a decade later as he is leaving federal prison, in the interview Mark asks for a presidential pardon for his unjust criminal record and claims innocence from all wrongdoing.  The film then closes with an explanation that it was later realized that Mark swindled a larger amount of money than even the government initially realized.  It is a stellar display of the many faces of corruption, which at times can be incredibly friendly.

I am tempted to go into detail on corruption and big business as it is one of the integral themes of the film and obviously a large concern for Soderbergh, however, I feel as though the film speaks to this a great deal and to elaborate would be redundant.  Instead, I want to discuss the casting choices for the film as they help to elucidate the absurdity for which Soderbergh's film attempts to portray.  Excluding Matt Damon, who is simply an excellent actor and the character of Ginger Whitacre played by Melanie Lynskey, better known for playing opposite Kate Winslett in Heavenly Creatures, the cast is meant to be comedic.  Actors like Tony Hale, Patton Oswalt and Joel McHale comprise the film, not necessarily, because they are excellent at acting overall, but because they are capable of committing to images and actions that are so far gone from logic without the slightest inclination of it being ridiculous.  One only needs to think of Tony Hale as Buster Bluth to realize how good Hale is at delivering the absurd, which is what allows him to play Mark's lawyer with equal parts ease and theatrics, without the entire performance seeming forced.  The viewer will instantly feel for Hale's character that is simply attempting to defend a crazed man, but has only begun to realize how truly gone his defendant has become.  Even the choice of Scott Bakula as Special Agent Brian Shepard is intentional, because as viewers will instantly recognize him as Quantum Leap's Sam Beckett.  Given the rather unconventional plot of the sci-fi show, it is no surprise that Bakula brings an earnestness to the character of Shepard despite the narratives seeming unconventionality.  As a character, Shepard is asked to believe some rather implausible things, and Bakula makes this seem easy.  With all this being said a large amount of the praise should be given to Matt Damon for his performance.  The film is easily one of the highlights of his career and it is a shame Damon was beat out by a handful of serious films for a Best Actor nod.

The Informant! is a fine example of the multiple faces of Soderbergh as a director.  It is easily his funniest film and a refreshing contrast to his more conventional Hollywood releases.  I cannot urge you enough to get your own copy.

He Want's You To Disappear For A Little While: Boarding Gate (2007)

Olivier Assayas has become a popular name as far as art house filmmaking is concerned.  His film Summer Hours received a large amount of critical acclaim upon its release and his miniseries Carlos while controversial has become the definitive biopic of the past few years.  I knew this before picking up my copy of Boarding Gate and was thoroughly confused by the cover and general concept of the film.  It simply did not looks or sounds like something that the acclaimed French director could have possibly conceived.  I was still uncertain as the first few minute of the film occurred and it was apparent that Michael Madsen phoned in his entire performance.  However, as the film became more complex and surreal I started to pick up on  Assayas's style and the film intrigued me and when the ambient tones of Brian Eno kicked in I was consumed.  The movie is an unpredictable and unusual approach to deceit and infidelity in a way that stand alone.  Not to mention the movie is incredibly self-aware about its sex appeal, without making the film glossy in its sensuous approach.  It is gritty and reminds viewers, like Soderbergh's The Girlfriend Experience, that intimacy is a very real thing that can have very tragic results.

The film focuses on the intertwined relationships of a group of people engaging in activities that would be described as illegal.  The first person introduced is Miles (Michael Madsen) an aging adviser for a security company who has admitted to a partner that he is selling his shares in the company because of some mismanaged money.  It is uncertain about where this money could have possibly gone, until Miles is informed that he has a guest in the lobby.  This guest is ex-prostitute Sandra (Asia Argento) who is also Miles's former lover.  She has come to explain to him that she has found a new job and is far removed from relying on his wealth.  Miles is skeptical of Sandra's claims, but allows her to leave contingent on her agreeing to stop by his place later.  Sandra is then shown working at a shipping company with her friends and employers Lester (Carl Ng) and Sue Wang (Kelly Lin) who are married.  It is also apparent that the shipping company is cover for drug smuggling that turns awry when a deal goes bad involving Sandra.  Fortunately, Sandra is rescued by Lester who then has an awkward sexual encounter before leaving her to her own devices.  Sandra also engages in her meeting with Miles, which involves her dangling her sexuality over Miles before killing him in half defense and half rage.  This murder leads to Lester offering help to Sandra to travel to China to hide.  However, given the illegal nature of her act Lester demands that she avoid contact given that the authorities would certainly be after her.  The trip is secretive and leads Sandra to the underworld of China and multiple near death experiences, one of which involves Sue trying to exact revenge for her infidelity with Lester.  However, due to her streetwise nature Sandra is able to escape from the situation and receives aid from Kay (Kim Gordon) an enigmatic woman who appears to have complete control of the reigns that are underworld China.  Sandra then attempts to exact revenge on Lester by following him to a restaurant.  She is only moments away from stabbing Lester when she witnesses him exchanging briefcases with the man Miles had originally talked to at the films opening.  Every characters' intertwined experiences result in Sandra realizing that revenge is arbitrary and that she can do more good by succeeding ethically. 

The film is excellent as far as narrative is concerned.  It is somewhat difficult to watch the acting at times given what seems to be the director's inability to direct actors outside of his language.  It can be insufferable at times, but the overall quality of the film far outshines this flaw.  What I specifically love about this film is the international nature of the film.  It involves actors from The United States, China, Italy and other nations as well as a director who is French.  The film is set in multiple locations, centering heavily on the narrative as it occurs in Beijing and Paris.  It may seem like a rather arbitrary thing to make a huge deal out of, yet it is simply not a common occurrence that a film crosses as many boarders as Boarding Gate does.  The multiple nationalities involved in the film certainly add another layer of relevance to the films title.  It is a veritable boarding gate of a film in the constant intersections of culture and identity in a way that forces individuals to acknowledge their previously ignored presence.  This also helps explain the abrupt ending to the film that leaves films considerably unfulfilled.  Sandra could have exacted revenge to Lester thus completing her already brutal spree of murders.  However, as she watches Lester leave the restaurant and enter his car after engaging in what are most certainly illicit activities, she realizes that her attacks against others are only acidic to progression.  She changes her behavior to reflect somebody who desires to engage in the world stage productively, even if those intersections only occur in passing.

Boarding Gate is an excellent film, but not a piece of cinema.  It fails to gather cohesion enough to deliver an entire concept and seems much more a series of scattered statements than a fully realized philosophy.  With that being said, the film is worth watching via rental.  Also, it has one of the coolest credit songs I have head in awhile.

What I Believe In Is Called The Constitution Of The United States Of America: The Ides Of March (2011)

Sometimes you can tell by a trailer alone that a film will be fantastic, this is certainly the case with The Ides of March.  I am sure that a large constituent of people dismissed this film solely because it was directed by George Clooney or because it was a political film, however, those who instantly disregarded this film are missing out on something special.  The Ides of March is an honest film about the deceitful and theatrical world of political performance and the unforeseen effects such illusions of normalcy have on the private lives of those involved.  It is a film so intertwined with the desires and beliefs of each character shown that is becomes almost impossible to choose a character that you like, or can even tolerate.  It is clear from the onset that we are to side with certain individuals, but even with this information, the viewer cannot help to disdain their involvement in unethical endeavors, even if they are simply doing so to survive in the Darwinian inspired landscape of American politics.  I know those past few sentences seem like incoherent ramblings, yet it is the best I thing I could provide to even begin to explain the intensity of this film.

The film centers mostly on the actions and experiences of Stephen Myers (Ryan Gosling) a up and coming speech writing prodigy for the democratic governor Mike Morris (George Clooney)  who is seeking the candidacy of president.  Myers is keen at his job as in a major factor in assuring that Morris receives the nod from his party, despite facing tough competition against a senator named Ted Pullman (Michael Mantell).  Assisted by weathered political adviser Paul Zara (Phillip Seymour Hoffman) the Morris campaign is invincible and even has the assistance of the media via New York Times writer Ida (Marissa Tomei).  Everything seems set to work brilliantly, until Myers receives an unusual call from the competing campaigns adviser Tom Duffy (Paul Giamatti) requesting that they get lunch and discuss things.  Myers is justifiably suspicious but agrees to meet with Duffy regardless.  When he engages in this meeting, he quickly realizes his mistake, as Duffy attempts to recruit him to Pullman's campaign.  Upset and confused Myers leaves the restaurant and decides to take up a dinner invitation from one of the interns for the Morris campaign.  The young girl Myers has dinner with is one Molly Stearns (Evan Rachel Wood) whose father heads the Democratic National Committee.  Regardless of the blatant problems with sleeping with Stearns, Myers decides to pursue a relationship with her because he finds her exceptionally intriguing.  Their romance seems to be probable until they are together and Myers accidentally picks up a call for her from Morris.  Realizing the inherent issues in his discovery Myers demands that Stearns ceases all contact with the governor.  However, this request is not simple given that Stearns has become pregnant as a result of her encounter with Morris.  This all comes in the face of the Morris campaign discovering Myers recent meeting, which leads to his removal from the campaign.  His removal is quickly trivialized when it is discovered that Stearns has overdosed on prescription drugs, one that she received after the realization that her recent abortion was more about Morris's political image than her own comfort.  Myers seizes this opportunity, with some emotional turmoil, and uses his knowledge to regain access to the Morris campaign, in a backroom shadowy scene that is reminiscent to Network.  The film then closes on Myers reengaging in the Morris campaign with a new look in his eyes; one that is a combination of disillusionment and disdain for all that is political.

I mentioned the film being an incredibly personal look at the effects of politics on individuals, which perhaps helps to explain the uncomfortable detachment I felt as a viewer.  It helps truly elucidate the impossibilities of any political figure truly representing the ideals of every individual, because what is relevant to one person may completely illogical or counterintuitive to another.   Take for example the candidates desires to win over the Democratic senator Franklin Thompson's (Jeffery Wright) nod of support.  Both realize that the endorsement of his voters, if only verbal, could be the single factor in influencing the actions of the remaining election.  However, they also realize that in order to gain such support they must be willing to provide a substantial offer in return, in this case cabinet positions.  It may seem as though Thompson's actions are conniving and dishonest, however, the simple fact is that he is concerned with his future in politics, which rest on assuring his place in a political position.  Similarly, Myers reacts to the announcement of Stearns pregnancy with little joy and, in fact, much disdain.   Myers is justified in his concern, because as he notes a politician one can get away with pretty much anything, but sleeping with interns is the obvious exception.  Myers is reacting out of concern for Morris's political image, which inevitably means his future employment.   In an idea situation Myer's would prefer what is best for Stearns, however, politics muck up everything and often have very dire and fatal results.  The film shows how quickly politics concerning the repressed on a large scale disappear simply because each individual has an insurmountable amount of ulterior motives.

The Ides of March is yet another movie from an outstanding year of filmmaking, to call it middle of the road would be true for 2011, yet if it were released in any other year, it would be one of the best movies of the year.  Grab a copy and watch it, it is an intensely real film experience.

It's A Bad Day To Be A Rhesus Monkey: Contagion (2011)

The masterful filmmaking that has become synonymous with Steven Soderbergh, makes his recent retirement announcement all the more troubling.  However, that has not stopped me from enjoying the work that he is still producing.  His paranoia inducing and Hollywood heavy film Contagion is a pseudo sci-fi masterpiece.  It is apparent at this point that Soderbergh has developed a style that is both accessibly mainstream and avant-garde in its visionary cinematic advances.  With a stark opening, techno fueled montages and rather conventional character development Contagion is a work of composed brilliance that manages to create a shockingly accurate landscape for a global pandemic.  It manages to honestly confront both the large scale and intimate issues of a rampantly spreading disease without losing sight of sound movie making.  It is a shame that this film was not popularly received because it is considerably better than many of the films released this year, excluding The Tree of Life of course.  A few directors and whole genres of filmmaking could take a few notes from Soderbergh's playbook before endeavoring to make their own dystopic thrillers.

Contagion, as the title suggests, follows the spreading of a disease through contact.  However, the disease in question proves not to be a simple flu bug, but a seizure-inducing virus with fatal effects.  In classic Soderbergh fasion the film involves several narratives that loosely intersect, but never seem to fully connect.  The characters in the film are all attempting to avoid contracting the virus while also assuring their own personal goals whether they be like the character of Mitch (Matt Damon) whose major concern is the safety of his daughter or Alan (Jude Law) who sees the virus as an opportunity to unmask government conspiracy while also cashing in on paranoid internet users.  Others like Dr. Ellis Cheever (Laurence Fishburne) and Dr. Erin Mears (Kate Winslet) employ their scientific understanding of disease prevention full force in an attempt to subdue the virus.  However, as these, and other, characters realize their personal goals are made nearly impossible in the face of a growing global pandemic, which leads to illogical and often barbaric behavior ranging from small scale robbery to fully enacted kidnapping.  Problems are only heightened by the realization that a vaccine for the virus cannot exist in a large enough amount to assure immediate availability.  This leads to an even larger amount of rioting, global political confrontations and a considerable amount of class consciousness.  Ultimately, and rather unusually for Soderbergh, the film reminds viewers that with time things will eventually become normal and diseases can only spread so far when people are consciously preventing their occurrence.  A nice moral message blanketed by a well-made thriller, yet it is in no way obnoxious, a difficult feat to perform, take my upcoming review of Birdemic as an example.

I tossed around what type of critical reflection to provide for this film, given that so many critics have drawn upon the films realistic portrayal of the rise and fall of a global pandemic.  I considered mentioning something else about this film, but all I can do is offer a resounding agreement to these claims.  The film does a damn good job of focusing on the cogs turning as a simple case of virus related deaths turn from something personal to a large-scale issue that involves large scale government actions both privately and publicly that posses dire consequences.  Contagion absolutely catches the bureaucracy of dealing with an invisible disease both in regards to politics and science, while reminding viewers that sometimes the best action for an individual or even a group of individuals does not necessarily mean that it is good for the whole.  This is clear in the approach to dealing with quarantined victims in the film.  It is made clear that quarantine is necessary to the safety of cities in the film, yet the problems of financing said quarantine have bureaucratic strings that must be tied in order to provide services.  Furthermore, the act of providing vaccines would prove terribly problematic, as it does in the film, given that limited supply would inevitably lead to arguments over who "deserves" the first right to vaccination.  It is a film about the problems of dealing with a problem, a very pertinent commentary given our current economic state.  Contagion reminds us that when it comes to dealing with world issues neither bureaucrats or Occupy Wall Street members have the idea entirely correct.

Go watch this film now...It is terribly underrated right now and I am begging you to help that change.

Appearances Can Be...Deceptive: Burn After Reading (2008)

I am coming to realize a very tragic flaw with The Coen Brothers as they relate to popular cinema.  This being that their most provocative and provocative films have proven to be the least well received to regular cinemagoers.  Their Oscar winning film, No Country For Old Men, while spectacular is far inferior to their existential drama A Serious Man, which failed to prove as profitable as the previously mentioned film.  The same fate occurred with Burn After Reading, which was released shortly after No Country For Old Men and proved relatively unsuccessful as far as the Coen's films are concerned.  Burn After Reading is certainly not as thrilling as No Country For Old Men and arguably lacks the same unique characters, but to dismiss this film entirely is certainly a tragic action.  What is offered from the Coen's with Burn After Reading is a very intimate look into a group in American society that many seem to deem unfilmable.  Yet as this film shows, this group, which I will discuss later, provides some of the most joyously fantastic humor available in a dark comedy and it really makes me want to revisit the entire Coen Brothers' oeuvre to find similar subject matter.

Burn After Reading, like so many of Joel and Ethan's movies, involves multiple narratives which by some unseen fate become cruelly intertwined.  The film opens with an aging CIA agent named Osbourne Cox (John Malkovich) discovering that he is being asked to resign from his job, due to various reasons, most notably his continually problematic alcoholism.  This announcement comes at a terrible time for his wife Katie (Tilda Swinton) whose vanity becomes threatened with a sudden cessation of money.  Instead of supporting her ailing husband, Katie decides to pursue her affair with Harry Pfarrer (George Clooney), a sex-crazed employee of the state department, who dismisses not only Osbourne, but his own wife Sandy (Elizabeth Marvel) as nothing more than an author of tacky children's stories.  This entire narrative of infidelity is arched by the discovery of Osbourne's memoirs at a local gym by two mundane employees, the jockish Chad (Brad Pitt) and the aging Linda Litzke (Frances McDormand) whose desire to get plastic surgery challenges even Katie's vanity.  This group of characters began to cross each others paths', assuming that large scale spying is occurring and that Osbourne's memoirs are a major component to refueling the Cold War ideologies in the United States.  Despite being arbitrary, Osbourne's memoirs being leaked, prove to lead to larger amounts of infidelity, murder and political corruption.  All of this blows up in the faces of the characters involved and proves rather tragic.  Yet as the film shows in its closing monologue of a CIA Superior (J.K. Simmons) while  stating that the group "tried its best" that the lives of those men and women involved in this conspiracy were indeed full of sound and fury, but as always signified nothing.  It is a truly existential film that has an equally bleak ending, similar to its predecessor No Country For Old Men, but so much funnier.

As I noted earlier, this film is concerned with a very specific group of the American demographic.  Burn After Reading is preoccupied with middle-aged ennui, a great subject given that it likely reflects The Coen Brother's own personal struggle to stay relevant in an ever evolving world of cinema.  Burn After Reading is all about individuals staying relevant when younger generations are vying to take their place.  From the onset Osbourne reflects this given his removal from the CIA for younger agents.  Instead of proving his worth to the CIA, he quits and commits to discussing the better days of the agency, a classic action of middle aged individuals to become nostalgic as opposed to relevant.  Similarly, both Katie and Linda find themselves loosing their relevance in very physical terms, a particularly notable issue given that both of the characters are women.  Yet, neither attempts to adapt to the situation, but instead rely on medical advancements to rekindle their youth.  Finally, even George Clooney and Brad Pitt's characters, which are implied to be relatively young, are preoccupied with being hypermasculine to a fault, with Clooney being a philanderer and Pitt being fanatical about working out to a fault.  The ultimate problem in the film is that each character's desire to remain relevant becomes hazardous to the group as a whole causing very physical problems in their realities and their inability to acknowledge that they are not indeed "doing their best" is a very dire problem.  With that being said, I should note that I think The Coen's are doing their very best at their age and their relevance is undeniable, certainly in their ability to reflect on a film of ages gone by and rethink it for a new generation, this being of course their glorious adaptation of True Grit.  Burn After Reading is a call to adapt, or else flail in a new generation with differing ideologies which manifest themselves in a variety of forms.

This is an excellent Coen Brothers film that I strongly suggest owning.  Getting a cheap copy of this film is relatively easy and you will not regret it, I promise.