Sometimes Truth Defies Reason: Frailty (2001)

Whenever I take upon a viewing marathon, particularly one that involves me watching a ton of films of a specific genre I attempt to do a bit of research and find some examples of criminally underrated films that for a variety of reasons were overlooked and written off, yet prove to be the highlights of that particular year in filmmaking and even stand on their own against the giants of the genre.  While 2001's Frailty is not a perfect film, nor could it compete with the likes of The Exorcist or its contemporary masterpieces in the same ambiance and from the same year, particularly Mulholland Drive, it does manage to allow the important influence of these respective works wash over the narrative and make it become a visually engaging work with a narrative that could only work with the right levels of earnest dedication from all those involved.  Flowing in a simulacra of saturated filmic space, created by the mesmerizing cinematography of Bill Butler, Frailty manages to possess precisely this degree of direction and certainty, only benefitted by the always rewarding, if not initially realized, acting of Matthew McConaughey.  The fact that this is the feature length directorial debut of Bill Paxton, perhaps better known for his role on Big Love, makes the discovery of something like Frailty that much more rewarding.  Essentially, there is no quantifiable reason as to why a person would like Frailty on paper, nor is there an explanation as to how people would have sought it ought upon release, because it would appears to be a derivative and contrived piece of filmmaking with little to offer to the genre.  Derivative it is not, perfectly seasoned with a blend of horror classics and an understanding of a changing landscape in narrative filmmaking, Frailty manages to step up and compete with the other great puzzle films emerging around the time, such as Memento, The Machinist and in small ways the masterwork Zodiac.  To have been the person who rediscovered this film must have really been quite the revelation, not because it is has now become a much adored contemporary classic, but because it clearly appears to be remerging in the most word of mouth way possible.  I certainly know it will receive a healthy dose of acknowledgement on my part, right beside a few of my contemporary overlooked horror films in Session 9 and the science-fiction survival nightmare that is The Cube.

Frailty begins at the FBI headquarters in Dallas, Texas wherein a man introducing himself as Fenton Meeks (Matthew McConaughey) explains to Agent Wesley Doyle (Powers Boothe) that he is rather certain about the whereabouts of the God's Hand Killer, suspecting it to be his mentally unstable brother, who has recently committed suicide.  Suspicious for obvious reasons, Agent Doyle demands that Fenton provide some substantial evidence to such bold acquisitions, leading to Fenton telling a rather lengthy back story about his childhood growing up with his brother Adam (Jeremy Sumpter) in a single parent household with their father, played by Bill Paxton.  Things, while tough financially, are relatively easy going until in the middle of the night their father claims to have seen a vision of angels explaining that it is the job of not only himself, but Fenton and Adam to become slayers of demons in the name of God.  Thinking that it is simply a wild delusion of grandeur, Fenton, and to a degree Adam, write off the entire incident and continue on with their daily lives, even going so far as to overlook their fathers repeated returning home with items related to the killing of demons, the most disturbing being the various weapons he purports to be key to the act of slaying.  Yet, even this does not truly cause the children to step back and critique the situation, but when the father does indeed bring home a woman, bound and kills her with an axe, claiming that her sins had resulted in her becoming demonic, both the children appear to be initially hesitant, particularly Fenton who immediately questions the behaviors of his father and their larger implications on society.  This questioning on the pat of Fenton, leads to a divide between himself and Adam who sides with their father and betrays Fenton's desire to run away.  This leads to Fenton being locked in a cellar until, as his father says he is able to see God, at which point he will be released.  Through eventual dehydration and becoming stir crazy, Fenton claims to have seen God and then begins joining in the killings, as though it were something forever engrained in his psyche.  These actions carry the narrative back into the present where Agent Doyle and Fenton arrive at the alleged place of the burials.  It is at this point, where it becomes convoluted as to whether the narrative told was indeed through the yes of Fenton, or through those of Adam, perhaps even existing as a bizarre and troubling version of both.

Frailty could be interpreted as many different narratives, all having to pull from a decidedly complex narrative, that masks itself in a deceptively obvious form of linearity.  One could certainly make a case for it being a narrative of split-personality disorder, wherein one character is, in fact, extending his former reflections into multiple characters to help rationalize the terrible actions he committed, a reading that is further suggested by the general synthetic look of the film, one where glossy shine makes each action seem impossibly fabricated.  Another could simply be a study of the nature of evil and whether or not ridding the world of such entities should be deemed murder, the Texas setting for this reading making the narrative that much more complex.  I, however, am rather convinced that it is actually a metaphor, albeit obvious at times, about a troubling past with child abuse that was exacted upon children by a father figure.  Indeed, the narrative suggests that the family is void of a maternal figure, but the ways in which food magically appears in scenes and domestic chores happen to always be complete, would suggest that the memories spouted by Fenton are missing an element purposefully, perhaps an abused wife so minimized at the hands of an angry father that she has become literally non-existant in the narrative.  I know that the film suggest she has passed away, but considering its willingness to alter and shift factual understanding at a moments notice make such assumptions quite tenuous.  The reading of it as such a film is reinforced by particular images of Fenton possessing bleeding hands from working all day digging an impossibly large ditch.  Sure these could be callouses, but considering the father's reaction and awkward willingness to help heal the damage it could equally be read as one such act of abuse.  The fact that Denton is also depicted falling asleep during class, reflect his worry of the visions of God trouble facing his family, but again, it also could indicate an individual so emotionally distraught in the space of his home that he can no longer rest without severe anxiety and distress.  Add these images and subtle narratives to the notion that Adam and Fenton have considerably altering views on the nature of their father's goodness, and such a narrative begins to become rather blatant.  Indeed, should nothing else sound plausible, turning ones attention to the nailing the hatch shut on the shed scene, pretty much makes it a fact.

Key Scene:  The vision of the first weapon sequence is rather basic trick cinematography and special effects, but it occurs with such a degree of realized execution as to completely change the pace of the film, and is only one time when which this occurs in the stellar film.

This DVD and bluray is cheap, I would recommend the latter as it is a decidedly cinematic film and well worth a blind buy.

I'm Good, We Gonna Be Good: Fruitvale Station (2013)

It is no small task to release a film about a controversial shooting against the backdrop of a heated debate of racial attacks in America, particularly one where justice became murky quite quickly and an sour taste was left in the mouth of those both directly and indirectly involved in the incidents.  It is even more challenging to release a film against the existence of very real footage surrounding an event, one whose violence is factually chronicled, yet still wildly inexplicable.  That is precisely what occurs within the context of Ryan Coogler's cinematic and poignant directorial debut Fruitvale Station.  A film that possessed such an evocative theme and decided force from its very inception, Fruitvale Station was already on my radar well before its release and the closer to its release date it came, the more it seemed as though it was on the tails of the Trayvon Martin case, whose presence invariably exists all over this film.  Fortunately, the film does manage to navigate the tenuous and troubling issues with a degree of awareness about the layers of representation, suggesting that even the most seemingly understood of individuals can prove to have a set of motives and challenges that invariably come to challenge any notion of changing or starting over.  There have been many films like Fruitvale Station prior and there will, undoubtedly, be many films like it to follow, what they all lack is an understanding that they invariably exist outside the frame of the reality, attempting to posit a layer of credibility to a set of events that can only be certain in the previously reality, thus making the film a statement about what can and should occur in the aftermath of a tragedy.  Whereas, Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing, from which Fruitvale Station inevitably pulls, is afforded a pre-9/11 space to create a narrative against an assumed outcome, Fruitvale Station cannot create quite the same sense of a simulacra of events.  Coogler understanding that his work is occurring after the events of Rodney King, as well as in a post-9/11 framework chooses to audaciously bookend his film with images of the real, making each fabrication and directorial choice that much more purposefully and precisely heavy-handed.  It is a profusely audacious decision, but one that pays off in incalculable ways.

Fruitvale station, begins with actual cell phone footage that depicts the arresting of Oscar Grant III, which leads to an assumedly accidental shooting, before cutting to the fictionalized version of the events leading up to the real incident.  Oscar (Michael B. Jordan) is shown talking with his girlfriend Sophina (Melanie Diaz) about their respective New Year's Resolutions, while also caring for the couple's daughter Tatiana (Ariana Neal).  Hoping to get his feet back on the ground after a stint in jail, Oscar returns to his old job begging to be forgiven for his continual tardiness, which has direct ties to his selling of drugs, an endeavor that assumedly caused his jailing, which is also dealt within in the narrative.  Despite his inability to attain a legal job, Oscar vows to end a life in the world of selling drugs both for his daughter and girlfriend, as well as for his mother Wanda (Octavia Spencer) who seems to serve as the only guiding presence in Oscar's desultory life, especially considering his notable devotion to assuring that she has an enjoyable birthday.  After attending his mothers birthday party, Oscar and Sophina plan to meet up with various friends and attend New Year's fireworks in San Francisco.  The group meets up and despite the general drunkenness of those on the subway train they are traveling, nonetheless, seem to get along with little or no trouble, the general glee of New Year's celebrations momentarily transcending race, class and gender divides.  At one point, Oscar even appears to meet up with a man whose work in web design could prove a ticket to a respectable job and step in the right direction.  Tired from the events the group returns home  on an even more crowded train, at which point Oscar by a wicked twist of fate runs into an enemy he made while in prison leading to a minor incident on the train.  Nonetheless, the scuffle results in subway authorities entering the train and forcefully removing Oscar and his friends.  The two leading officers become incredibly aggressive in their methods, pushing Oscar's face into the ground and eventually shooting him through the back.  Realizing their mistake the officers quickly rush Oscar to the hospital, but it proves too fatal a wound to save and he is left on life support until it proves futile to keep him alive, the film closing with Sophina showering a confused Tatiana who simply asks where her father has gone, and in an even more sobering closing moment, the film cuts to a 2013 vigil for Oscar and a match cut of the real Tatiana crying closes the film, reminding viewers of the reality of the event and the contemporary presence of such inexplicable loss through acts of violence.

I know when I have reviewed a film like Red Eye, I praised its for its self-aware existence in a post-9/11 framework, where they understand that the ebb and flow of their narrative is entirely contingent upon an understanding that the majority if not the entirety of the audience is aware of the tragic inexplicable act of violence that occurred at the World Trade Center.  Red Eye kowtows into the absurd as a clear juxtaposition to the real violence, but also accepts that its tension is derived from that acknowledgement, particularly given its plane-in-flight setting.  Of course, the major example of post-9/11 cinema will always be United 93 poignantly directed by Paul Greengrass, but Fruitvale Station may well exist as the clear second in line to this work, in that, like United 93 it accepts that it is a fictional consideration of a very devastating and very real occurrence, one whose images are easily accessible and for many viscerally and permanently burned into their memory.  The moment of the planes hitting in United 93 is not recreated, because to do so would be to compete with a collective memory of the reality, a fabrication would seem ill-conceived and to many offensive.  With this in mind, reading Fruitvale Station as a film working within the space of the post-9/11 filmmaking framework is particularly fascinating, because like Greengrass does in United 93, Coogler accepts that his narrative is existing within the space of real images, ones available and catalogued heavily on the internet, an example of viral video becoming a powerful tool for justice and political action.  As such, Fruitvale Station is a poetic realist fabrication of the events leading up to the shooting, beginning the film with the real events as a means to assure that at no point will this film attempt to extend or challenge the reality, because it has been captured and to contest it, or undermine it would be to nobody's credit, particularly not that of Oscar who was very much a victim, as the cell phone footage affirms.  In so much, as it instead becomes a tribute to the ethereal memory of the lost Oscar, the film is post-9/11 instead celebrating moments of a remembered character, both in their ups and downs, hoping to show a scale of humanity that is discussed in the aftermath of such tragedy, while never suggesting itself as anything more than a film.  Indeed, as the closing shot of Fruitvale Station attests, no amount of glorified cinematic composition can help to deal with the tragic loss that affects those in the reality, but in an ideal world something like Fruitvale Station can at the very least afford people a space to consider their emotions and frustrations of such events, without hostility and violence becoming the immediate answer.

Key Scene:  Tatiana chasing Oscar after he picks her up from day care will break your heart, and again, this is because the film sets up from the beginning the certainty of his death and Coogler manages to make the fictionalized version of Oscar stand in for an emotive replacement nearly immediately, a challenging task made much easier by the stellar, Oscar-worthy, performance by Michael B. Jordan.

Go to a theater and see this, it is what should ideally be shown for 10+ screenings a day, as opposed to The Man of Steel.

There You Are, Right Back In The Jungle Again: Duel (1971)

While I am quite aware that there are a ton of films I still need to catch up within regards to the "most important" works of cinema, both American and foreign, it is quite nice to be at a point in my film consumption that I am able to dig deeper and find lesser known gems for viewing experience, especially the discoveries of lesser known works by well-established directors, particularly those of Steven Spielberg.  In the past few decades Spielberg has all but made himself the face of American filmmaking by creating gripping narratives that often double as fully realized blockbusters.  Now it is also worth acknowledging the particularly troublesome notion of films being Spielbergian which seems to account as being both negative and positive simultaneously, granting that his use of orchestra heavy John Williams scores and sweeping camera work cause very real emotive responses within their viewers, while also arguing that this highly-stylized execution on the part of Spielberg is in some ways hokey or hammed-up for effect.  While there is a degree of validity to this argument, it is quite necessary to remember that these descriptors account for a specific set of films by the director, whose cannon is almost inconceivably expansive.  The epic nature of his films often only hold true for those that are in their very nature fantastical, whether it be Jurassic Park or the Indiana Jones films.  Indeed, if one were to revisit something like Jaws or Schlinder's List it becomes rather obvious that the over-the-top nature of the auteur only emerges when it is begged from the narrative.  To solidly entrench this argument I offer what may well be the biggest hidden gem in Spielberg's oeuvre, his 1971 television movie Duel, which exists within the world of implausibility and intensity, while also managing not to be an entirely showy or melodramatically over-abundant film.  Indeed, I would even contest that this film is a highly internal work that focuses on the experiences of a singular man in relation to a terrible encounter that invariably leads to his fracturing from insanity, the acting is surprisingly minimal given the movies concept and the music is decidedly diagetic.  Perhaps it was the fact that the film was made-for-tv that resulted in Spielberg reigning in his showy ways, but one thing is for certain, it shows a varied cinematic output by one of film's most identifiable directors and the result is quite excellent.


Duel is a decidedly enclosed narrative, focusing nearly entirely on the experiences of David Mann (Dennis Weaver) a non-descript business man who is taking a semi-lengthy trip for a meeting with somebody a couple of hours from his home.  With only the absurd discussions of talk radio to accompany him he heads about his way, hoping to make great time an endeavor that leads to him passing a slowly moving freight truck with little or no thought.  However, immediately after this decision, it becomes clear that the unseen trucker is quite infuriated with David for his act and begins bullying the much smaller car by passing him on the narrow road and blocking him from moving any further.  An irate David pulls into a gas station to seek respite and  calls his wife to apologize for some vague event involving a sexually demeaning advance by another man at a part, an act for which David apparently stood by indifferently.  David clearly hopes that this brief pause will afford him escape from the encroachment of the maniacal truck, although it becomes quite obvious upon return to the road that the trucker's vendetta is far from over.   What follows is a highly intense game of cat and mouse between David and the truck driver, wherein David constantly attempts to take advantage of his much smaller size and speed to take side roads and the like, even going so far as to break at a local diner in order to approach the truck driver in person, yet in the decidedly elusive nature of the driver, David ends up showing face and ultimately gets kicked out of the restaurant for starting altercations with the customers.  All the while, David is continually chased by the trucker who shows no hesitation in destroying all that is in his path in order to teach David a lesson.  When David attempts to seek solace by helping a group of children and their bus driver get back on the road it is only another point of failure as he is again attacked by the truck driver who chases David off and immediately aids the children in their getting back on the road, verifying that the driver's wild behavior is entirely intended for David.  Ultimately, the chase leads to a dead end of sorts and a showdown occurs between the much smaller vehicle David is driving and the truck, but in a last minute move of genius that plays upon the rampage of the truck driver, David is able to get the truck to drive off of a cliff, thus, assumedly, killing the driver in the process.  Yet given his ultimate escape, David does not immediately return home, instead he sits dazed by the events and simply tosses rocks in to the wreckage in the canyon below.

The tossing of the rocks pretty much entrenches the films clear narrative influence which, while pulled from a short story, clearly borrows heavily from the biblical tale of David and Goliath, both in the chucking of rocks at a figurative slain beast, as well as the title character's all to obvious name.  However, David's last name is Mann, which helps to conceptualize the second layer of Spielberg's Duel, which clearly seems to deal with the issues of failed masculinity and the misguided attempts to reassert one's masculine loss a theme that is present to varying degrees within other works by Spielberg, particularly Jaws and Close Encounters of the Third Kind, but seems to be most blatant and wild within the context of this film.  Between the failed ability to assert himself in an awkward situation the day before, as evidenced by his brief conversation with his wife and his recounting of his experiences in what viewers can assume to be the Vietnam War, David has assumedly lost all sense of self-worth, even going so far as to silently relate to a man who bemoans feeling as though he is not the head of his household, while he is quick to laugh off another man who is concerned with whether or not his filling out of the census will result in his home being invaded.  With this in mind, one is better able to understand the frustrations that come to a boil, leading to David's initial passing of the truck, it is half out of a need to speed up his travel time and as passive condemnation of the truck for interfering with his ability to escape his lack.  Yet, when the truck driver quickly puts David into check, what unfolds is a series of missteps and failures to verify his own masculinity some taking very physical form, whether it be his cowering in fear when his verbal threats fail at the diner, or his own attempt to exert a "perfect male sense of direction" to elude the truck driver.  David runs the gamut of attempts to be a man only to find that in this scenario those assumedly male advantage  are both useless but, arguably irrelevant.  Metaphorically speaking, David is also reminded of his own failures as a male in the form of references to what might be his impotence, these realizations occur most noticeably at the aptly named Snake-o-rama gas station, as well as his failure to "perform" when he cannot push the phallic-like bus through the tunnel, a metaphor only heightened when David notices the truck waiting at the other end of the tunnel, suggesting that another phallic power already resides in his place, one that is sexually adept and bigger.  It is no coincidence that David's ultimate success comes in his avoiding a head on conflict with the truck driver, finding that butting phallic heads proved futile.  It is worth considering this in relation to some other Spielberg works, because I am quite confident that it is a metaphor that extends well through a series of his early works.

Key Scene:  The Snake-o-rama scene is wild and surprisingly elaborate for a television movie.

Quite a surprise for an early work and while Jaws is the definitive starting point for Spielberg, I would highly encourage checking this movie out because it is as thrilling as they come.

For Your Awareness: Fear and Desire (1953)

I was always hesitant to undertake Kubrick's first feature film, partially because the director himself was so critical of the work and completely dismissed its value during his lifetime, perhaps helping to explain why it went unseen for so long.  I was also rather hesitant to view the film, because as it stood prior to this Kubrick was one of the few directors I was a aware of who had a flawless oeuvre, in so much as he had not made a single bad film.  I was quite concerned the Fear and Desire, released in 1953, some four  years before he would start to get attention with his equally prescient war film Paths of Glory.  Popping the bluray from Kino, based on a Library of Congress print was instantly gratifying and I am not sure why I even had a notion that anything with Kubrick's hands upon it could be terrible.  Fear and Desire was good, in fact, it was really really good.  The black and white chiaroscuro really pops of the screen and makes for a cinematic feast of contrast and shadow play that would go on to signify the film noir movies the director would make in the following years.  Between the intense close-ups of the characters faces and the over all existential themes of the brief first feature, one can easily identify this as a film by the late director, although it is also quite obvious that he has drawn some heavy influences from the neo-realist directors, as well as some tricks for psychological intensity from the surrealist movement.  I realize that it has some dubbing issues, the acting can be a bit iffy and it is rather clear that the film was shot on a low-budget in and around Hollywood.  With that being said, this film is still heads above most other war films and proves that Kubrick is undeniably one of the great masters and perhaps one of the few great directors to make it through his career without a notable failure, critically speaking, most audiences were not ready to engage with such deeply profound material, nor were its more unconventional methods ideal for a non-European audiences.  However, I can only imagine what it must have been like to be an earnest cinephile that just happened to pop into one of the rare screenings of this film, it must have been a revelation.

The film in classic Kubrick fashion is heavily existential, as well as critical of masculine confrontations. With a cast of only five actors, some of which play multiple roles, Kubrick manages to really delve into some psychological issues and focus on power plays and sexual awakenings.  The plot is deceptively simple, a group of stranded pilots must make their way across a river to safety, but become aware of the presence of an enemy general close-by changing their plans to jump on a once in a lifetime opportunity to gain military praise and recognition.  Of course the task of getting to this general is easier said than done as building a raft proves tedious, not to mention the capturing of a curious village girl, as well as the killing of a handful of guards in a house, almost motivated entirely by their desire to take their food. Kubrick paints a picture of a bestial world when it comes to war, something that he would echo time and again, both in Full Metal Jacket and Paths of Glory, as well as suggest its possibility in other non-war settings.  Extreme close-ups of characters eye lines would become a trademark of the director, whether it be Private Pile having a mental breakdown or Alex DeLarge's introduction in A Clockwork Orange, suffice to say this method is used heavily within Fear and Desire and combined with natural lighting and the shading of trees, these intense close-ups take on a whole new level of eeriness.  I want to reemphasize the ways in which this is truly an introduction to Stanley Kubrick, it has all his classic traits jammed into a far too short film, which just explodes off the screen via its 35 mm transfer.  Furthermore, it is a welcome reminder to those who may be interested in independent work that just because an individual does not possess a large amount of production money does not necessarily mean that they cannot make a masterpiece.  Fear and Desire is on a low-fi masterpiece level with Carnival of Souls and that is saying a lot coming from somebody who absolutely adores that film.

Buy a copy of the bluray from Kino, sure it is only sixty minutes long and relatively pricy at the moment, but in doing so you are invariably opening yourself up to a fresh cinematic experience, as well as supporting film restoration and archiving, something I am passionate about and has proven to save quite a few significant films over the past years.

The Spider Web Drips With Water: The Day A Pig Fell Into The Well (1996)

Yet another Korean film and yet another piece of cinema I find myself enamored with.  While The Day a Pig Fell into the Well, manifests itself somewhat differently from many Korean films I have viewed, as well as those mentioned on the blog here, not because it is non-linear or multi-narrative, but because it is a work solely concerned within the tragic monotony of a few middle-class individuals in modern Seoul.  In that aspect, it is similar to other films I have seen in its fear and frustrations resulting from improper dealings with modernity, however, the better portion of this film just depicts a group of people failing on a large scale.  This is a poetic, highly sexual and incredibly watchable film, yet it is also a tragic film in which characters possess very few redemptive skills, lack the will to advance beyond their  insufferable existence and constantly cross behind each other back to engage in devious monetary mismanagements and a seemingly unending set of infidelities.  All that being said, director Hong Sang-soo in his debut manages to offer something so inherently realized and necessary that I am not surprised by its great success at the festival circuit and its constant mention in the various books on Korean cinema that I read.  I am a bit bothered though by its lack of familiarity on a larger cinema scale, not only on the stage of world cinema, but within Korean cinematic history as well.  Sure it is not Oldboy, or a classic Korean melodrama, but it is an opulently cinematic film that masks itself within the veneer of a gross and reprehensible set of characters, managing to create something that borders perfectly between disturbingly sparse and melodramatically grandiose.  The Day a Pig Fell into the Well, is a work that should stand as a lesson in how to produce an independent work that is always and at once well-acted, forward thinking and earnestly reflective of its previous influences.  While not one of the best made films by a long shot, perhaps a sounder made film does not exist.

The Day a Pig Fell into the Well, is a set of heavily interconnected stories about a group of individuals who exist within deceitful lives, in terms of monetary engagements, job related tasks and most importantly sexual exploits.  Arguably the largest factor within this film centers around characters going behind one another to engage in sexual acts, whether it be a writer who is having an affair with his wife, by having sex with a woman who is having an affair with her husband.  However, if this were all he was doing it would be one thing, the man also borrows money from one female only to turn around and give it to the person with whom he is having an affair.  Another segment of the narrative focuses on the cuckolded husband as he makes a trip to Seoul for business, only to turn around and sleep with a prostitute, something that leads to him getting an unspecified venereal disease, which in turn leads his wife to realize that he too has cheated, even though she is guilty of similar actions on a far more frequent basis.  We are even provided a glimpse into the writers other lover, who is head over heels about him, going so far as to buy him presents and swoon over him, yet when she comes to his apartment and finds him with another woman she becomes upset, leading him to chastise her and kick her around in the street.  Eventually, by some means of absurdism the group comes together at what is assumed to be a wake or funeral, the levels of infidelity become clear yet little confrontation occurs.  It is only in the end that the husband reasserts his masculinity upon his wife, but as the narrative suggests she has yet another relationship on the back burner.  Also some people are killed at some point, but that is almost a trope within Korean cinema at this point.

I cannot begin to expand on the possibilities for interpretation within this film, one could always touch upon the fears of modernity within contemporary Korea, a theme that I have mentioned frequently on this blog, but these are obvious critiques something not worth reiterating at this time.  I could even talk about the gender components in this film, because at times they are glaringly problematic, while in other moments they are quite revolutionary, however, I have an academic paper I am currently working on which will afford me that opportunity.  Instead, I am going to glean something from an article on the film that I have yet to read that discusses temporality and repetition in the work.  This seems to be a rather keen focus for this, film considering that it is essentially the same group of people, committing the same acts in somewhat similar spaces.  In fact, the only separating factor appears to be time a very temporal thing, but one that serves to solely sever a direct tie between each act.  Psychologically speaking this is what allows the characters to commit awful acts, ranging from money laundering to murder, a disconnect not by spacial awareness, but one of time, which I know makes little to no sense, but something about detaching oneself from a moment as it relates to spacial recognition is far more difficult than detaching oneself from a differing time period.  An obvious example is how we often overlook previous acts of genocide, because if we were not there we would not have committed them, this film suggests the opposite of that notion to varying degrees.  An individuals acts are contingent to a moment in time, we could all commit the crimes if they time, not the space allowed for its occurrence.  I know I have not hashed this theory out very well, but it is something I want to look into more and perhaps reflect on better in a later review.

Key Scene: The means by which sexual acts abruptly intercept scenes is so jarring and appropriate that it might be one of my favorite uses of intercourse in a film to date.

This is yet another film suffering from region blocks, once again, making Youtube your best viewing source.

You Don't Go To Work Everyday. You Got To A Bar Everyday: Trees Lounge (1996)

It is fitting that right off of my month of horror films, I got into something like Trees Lounge.  The film is about gross people, living in a gross existence dealing with the gross experiences surrounding their lives.  However, as Steve Buscemi's directorial debut, this focus on less than amicable persons manages to capture a few moments of beauty within these somewhat uninspired lives, as well as catch more than enough of the tragedy one can expect latent within the films subject.  Furthermore, the film captures a few moments of comedy, as one could come to expect when considering Buscemi is in control.  A criticism could be directed at this film for being somewhat slow in its pace and a bit all around in what exactly it is trying to say, but I cannot help but find a simple adoration in what is both being said and not said within the film.  The actors, a mixture of notable stars, indie icons and flat out amateur individuals allows for something that both seemingly reflects a film about drifting personas as well as a conscious commentary on the cyclical nature of joy and pain as it reflects a larger concept of humanity. It is quite likely that Trees Lounge could have been so much more, but I would argue for a directorial debut that it too could have been so much less.  It is hard not to find something to love about this film, even if the characters are inconceivably unlikeable.  The soundtrack is magnificent and contains a level of hipness that could easily cause one to think that it is a Jim Jarmusch film, a notion that would be seconded by the somewhat cursory nature of the relationships between the individuals in the film narrative.  Trees Lounge does not exist as a film concerned with overdramatizing life and all its woes, instead; it simply portrays one man's desultory movement around a small town, in which he finds many half-hearted friends, a night of fleeting love and quite a few enemies, ultimately, realizing that a life he thinks to be uniquely his own has already existed, and its outcome is less than welcoming.

Steve Buscemi plays a double role in that he is the director, as well as the the main character of the film, Tommy, a down and out alcoholic, whose severe gambling habits have cause him to become unemployed, losing his job as a mechanic after stealing from his boss Rob (Anthony LaPaglia), who just happens to be living with Tommy's ex-girlfriend, and possible mother of his child Theresa (Elizabeth Bracco).  Nothing seems to fair well for Tommy, he continually seeks jobs as a mechanic, only to be turned down, leading him to continually drink his evenings away, until the passing of his Uncle Al (Seymour Cassel) causes him to revisit many of his detached family members during a funeral.  Many of these family members are less than receptive to their alcoholic kin only offering passive acknowledgement of his presence, save for a close family friend's daughter Debbie (Chloe Sevigny).  After taking up Al's former job as an ice cream truck driver, Tommy finally appears to have things going for him, even making a close relationship with one of his fellow bar fly friends Mike (Mark Boone Junior), as well as spending much more time with Debbie.  It is, in fact, during one night at the bar that Debbie's appearance spurs Tommy to spend more time with the young girl, eventually leading to a night of them making out.  Debbie's father and close friend of Tommy's Jerry (Daniel Baldwin) discovers what Tommy has done and enters into a fit of rage, resulting in chasing him down about a baseball field grabbing a bat to take to not only Tommy but his ice cream truck as well.  The film then displays Tommy discussing an alternate future with Theresa in which they both would be happy sharing a child together, before he eventually heads back to the bar to take his place in the seat of a former regular whose leave of absence was due to health issues, suggesting his own future in the process.

The basic premise of Trees Lounge does not sound as though it will make for a particularly watchable film, viewers are essentially provided with a variety of druggie alcoholic individuals who fail to take any credit for their lives, particularly in that they seem more content with numbing their minds from their despair than actually rising above their situation.  One could certainly make this case for Mike who desperately wants to rekindle a relationship between his wife and daughter, but cannot bring himself to leave the bar for a day or to provide an honest account of anything to his wife.  Instead of accepting his problems, Mike continually blames his wife for refusing to accommodate his selfish demands.  Similarly, Tommy continually complains about the issues of not having a job and how it is affecting his ability to traverse through a confrontational world, yet seems quite content to blow what little money he has on booze, or ignore job offers that he deems above his character.  These descriptions certainly reflect a film in which the characters are not redeemable, but a larger issue of lack of communication and community influences the narrative.  Tommy, Mike and a few other regulars know each other closely, however, when it comes to helping one another do anything but drunkenly walk home they could care less for their safety.  For example, Mike has an opportunity to employ Tommy within his moving company but ignore his requests, perhaps because he figuratively cannot hear Tommy's cries for help, or literally does not want his stoic, cool bar persona to become connected to his rather loathsome public persona.  Even when Jerry assumes that Tommy might be taking a liking to Debbie, he could have been more adamant about it not occurring, but a lethal amount of indifference causes him to shrug his shoulders and inevitably let it occur.  Characters in Trees Lounge are afraid to communicate and this lack of interaction causes for a fractured and, continually, doomed community, one which Tommy is likely never to escape, and perhaps we should on a very small level feel bad for him.

Key Scene:  The entire baseball confrontation is perhaps one of the funniest things to ever happen in an indie film.

This film is well worth watching, buying a copy is perhaps not that necessary, but, thankfully, it is on Netflix watch instantly making a viewing quite easy.

Top Ten Thursdays: 1998 In Film

The blogosphere, or at least the blogs I follow, appear to occasionally offer lists of the "best years in film."  I listen to these lists being amazed by years that genuinely do offer a lot of great movies.  As such I am dedicating the top ten thursday lists for the remainder of the month to years that I find to have a large amount of great films.  I will begin with 1998 with brought moviegoers first-time offerings from a group of now well respected directors as well as great films from those who were already well established.  The list while numbered is easily maneuverable and not necessarily reflective of my personal favorites.  Although number one is certainly the best film of that year.

10.) What Dreams May Come

I remember being told in Sunday school that this film was blasphemous, which resulted in me not seeing it for sometime while I grappled with my religion well into college.  Now that I am a full on Atheist it was a pleasurable experience to watch this film a few years ago and I am mesmerized by both its visual style as well as its honest approach to world religion.

9.) Dark City 

I stumbled upon this gem after reading a list of best bluray releases, and I was quickly sucked into this dark neo-noir world.  The films claustrophobic and evasive imagery still haunts me.

Review Here

8.) The Truman Show

Religion really seems to be a thing prevalent in the works of 1998, Peter Weir's study of a man whose entire life is a reality show had a fair amount of religious overtones, particularly Ed Harris playing a Godlike figure controlling the life of a wide-eyed Jim Carrey.

7.) Life is Beautiful

People were baffled when Beningi racked up awards at The Oscars, but to be honest if your heart does not break when watching this movie, it is probably because you do not have one.

6.) Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels

Could you imagine a world without Robert Downey, Jr. playing Sherlock Holmes.  Well thanks to this directorial debut by Guy Ritchie you will never have to.  This film is in a close second to Snatch as my favorite work by the British director.

5.) Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas

I could pick just about any line from the film as my favorite, but I think this one sums it up best: "I was right in the middle of a fucking reptile zoo!  And somebody was giving booze to these god damn things!"

4.) Rushmore 

 Perhaps the most critically acclaimed of Wes Anderson's films, Rushmore is brilliant, if only for Bill Murray jumping into a pool whilst holding a cigar and a glass of scotch.

3.) Pi

Yet more religion, this time in the form of Darren Aronofsky studying Jewish mysticism gone awry.


Review Here

2.) The Big Lebowski

If you really think about it, Dudeology is its own religion, or at least it is certainly a cult.

1.) The Thin Red Line

My high school history teacher once told me this is the greatest war movie ever made.  I would be hard-pressed to disagree.  If it were not bad enough that Malick was snubbed at this years Oscars, it was a sad case of history repeating itself, because his 1998 film faired no better at the 71st Annual Oscar's either.












Honorable Mention


Pleasantville
Saving Private Ryan
SLC Punk

Just Get Through The Goddamn Day: A Single Man (2009)

When a person approaches film narrative from a stream of conscious ideology, I often get concerned as delivering a coherent narrative is often difficult.  Of course there are exceptions to this concern, such as Gondry's Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind or Lynch's Lost Highway.  However, it is rare for a movie to deliver stream of conscious narrative in a manner that is both accessible and perfectly poetic.  A Single Man, the debut film for Gucci designer Tom Ford, is a case where poetics and approachability combine  magically and in what could prove to be one of the most overlooked masterpieces of the past decade.  Obviously inspired by the successes of Mad Men, A Single Man focuses on the life of a professor in 1960's America at the height of Cold War fears.  Furthermore, it uses a set of respected actors who neither possess superstar images nor overact for the sake of assumed Oscar nominations.  Tom Ford's period pieces is all about subtlety and this helps the surreal nature of the film exponentially.  To add to my already exuding adoration for this film, I will state that it is precisely how a film should perform character study, by focusing on the character in a very singular and internal sense.


A Simple Man follows the course of events over a single day for the aging British professor George Falconer (Colin Firth) who is reeling from the recent loss of his partner Jim (Matthew Goode).  His loss is quite internal given the staunch conservatism which exists, even in the relatively liberal Los Angeles college community of which George teaches.  Given his depression, which has resulted from inner turmoil, George has vowed to commit suicide at the end of November 30th.  He plans to simply make it through the day and off himself with a gun, leaving everything that represented his life sitting out in his kitchen.  George begins to deal with his plan rather stoically until the world around him begins to interfere.  This begins with the inquiries of a young Jewish student about anti-semitism that leads George on a brilliant diatribe about the illogical nature of fear. After the deeply philosophical speech, George heads to his office to clean out his desk and down a fifth of whiskey.    This speech inspires a young student named Kenny (Nicholas Hoult) to approach George after class and discuss his own beliefs, as well as his past drug use.  Before parting Kenny purchases George a yellow pencil sharper as a gift for escorting him across the campus, it is quite apparent at this point that George desires Kenny.  However, realizing his purpose George leaves and stops by a liquor store to purchase gin for his former lover Charlie (Julianne Moore) of whom he was intimate with, prior to his coming out.  Upon leaving the liquor store George bumps into a young Spanish man dropping the bottle of gin and breaking it.   This accident leads to a discussion with the man named Carlos (Jon Kortajanera) who states that George is in dire need for someone to like him.  Shrugging this off indifferently, George heads home in an attempt to kill himself.  However, he finds himself unsuccessful at shooting himself and after receiving a call from Charlie decides to head to her house for a few drinks.  After dinner and a pass on the part of Charlie for sex, George leaves and heads to a bar, which him and Jim frequented.  There, by chance, he meets Kenny  again and after a drink they decide to go swimming.  During their swim at the beach George is knocked unconscious, at which point the two decide to return to George's house.  While finding a bandaid, for George,, Kenny discovers a  naked picture of Jim and proceeds to distance himself from George for the remainder of the night.  When George awakes a few hours later, he discovers Kenny lying on his sofa holding George's gun as a form of defense against his advances.  Realizing that Kenny had no desire for him, George enters his room with a new level of serenity, unfortunately, his decision to be happy is quickly followed by deathly heart attack that leaves George on the floor, which fulfilled his original plan for the day.

The film is quite impressive for its approach to a quite overlooked narrative in America prior to the 1970's, this of course being the experiences of homosexuals in the United States.  While Mad Men has dealt with this to some extent, they have never made it a matter to focus heavily on the alternative world of gay underground, let alone as a sole narrative.  Prior to a film like this, the commentary of gay life prior to Stonewall reserved for documentary filmmaking and narrative distanced from film.  I would imagine one of the biggest factors in changing this in cinema was the critical acclaim received by Brokeback Mountain.  IT is great to see a gay narrative emerge in film and even more so that it was provided with a respectable budget.  In years prior gay filmmaking was reserved to the avant-garde and experimental realms with filmmakers like Kenneth Anger and Su Friedrich leading the way.  A Single Man represents a complete change to voices about the past, as well as voices present in contemporary filmmaking.  I am glad to see films like this being made for a variety of reasons and hope the change continues, but if films like Beginners have anything to do with it, the trend is only beginning.  Sorry the criticism is not heavy in theory, but this is such an experiential film that explanation is somewhat arbitrary.

Watch this movie immediately, somehow it fell under my radar in 2009 and for that, I feel terrible.  Make sure you get a copy and share it with your friends; it is truly a visual manifesto.

I Am Here To Save Your God Damn Life: The Beaver (2011)

Let me get it out of the way.  I did not see this one coming.  The Beaver was a great movie.  I foolishly mocked the directorial debut of Jodie Foster as a ridiculous concoction of black comedy and anti-semitic acting power with a hand puppet attached somewhere.  I mean I could not have begun to imagine the bizarre beauty of this film, let alone the superb acting that occurred in this film, most surprisingly by the film’s star Mel Gibson.  I am here to tell you that I have seen the light, and damn was it glorious.  The Beaver is not only a decent movie, but it is superior to many of its contemporaries, specifically in the genre of dark comedy.  To quote a friend who watched the film with me, I am scared by how much I enjoyed this film.  Perhaps it is a direct result of my very low expectations coming into the film that resulted in its surprising enjoyability or its relative honest despite being absurdist in nature, but The Beaver is a must watch film and not in the same sense that Plan 9 From Outer Space is a must watch film.  The Beaver is not so bad that it is good; I would argue that it is so good that it might be bad.  I know that statement does not make sense, but you will not understand until you have experienced this stand-alone piece of cinema.

If you are stumbling upon this blog while searching reviews for this particular movie then you more than likely no the movies ridiculous plot.  However, for the few of you who have missed this movie in discussions I will explain.  Walter Black (Mel Gibson) is a severely depressed man who has inherited his father’s toy company, yet cannot manage to find a reason to enjoy life.  His indifference has led his oldest son Porter (Anton Yelchin) to despise every shared quality he has with his father and to his wife Meredith (Jodie Foster) demanding his departure from their literally decaying household.  Realizing he has lost everything, Walter stops off at a liquor store and purchases an insane amount of alcohol.  While returning to his vehicle Walter discovers a beaver hand puppet in a dumpster and decides to bring it along with him to his newly inhabited hotel room.  Walter, after becoming severely intoxicated, attempts to hang himself with no luck and then attempts to jump off the balcony of his hotel only to fall back into the room and have a television land on him.  After blacking out for some time, Walter awakes to a rough Australian voice.  However, this voice does not come from a human being, but instead from the beaver puppet which is attached to Walter’s hand.  The beaver explains to Walter that it is here to help him get his life back together and remove himself from his severe depression.  Agreeing to this change Walter reintroduces himself to his family and job with the beaver attached to him and speaking for him, explaining to his wife and others that it is part of a therapy suggested by his psychiatrist.  The puppet works almost instantly, excluding his son Porter, allowing him to rekindle his romance with his wife and take the flailing company into new and productive directions.  The joy ride does not last forever, however, and indeed becomes dark as those around Walter realize that his reliance on the beaver has not ended his depression, but instead serves as a veil to ignore it.  There you have it.  That is the plot for The Beaver.  I know it seems ridiculous, but somehow it manages to work and I am very glad to have taken the time to discover the film, which is inevitably doomed for obscurity.

I could do some sort of analysis concerning the vague discussions of religious salvation or its metaphors on the decaying nuclear family.  These are important themes in the film, but I would be remised not to mention how well the film deals with mental illness, both in regards to insanity and depression.  The character of Walter is obvious mentally instable in his possession of split personalities, one being the mute Walter and the other being the loud, foul mouthed beaver that is excellent with people.  As should be understood, people react with some degree of uncertainty to Walter illness often rolling their eyes and whispering uncertainties behind his back.  This seems to be the case for Walter’s illness for most of the film.  However, in a moment of self-reflection, Walter creates a toy that proves to be a big hit, causing people to exploit him for his creativity.  He is shown on various talk shows with the beaver, often being mocked indirectly while simultaneously being praised for his brilliant creation.  It makes me think of a musician like Daniel Johnston who has garnered large amounts of critical acclaim for his dark and brilliant lyricism.  Musical snobs often quote him as a masterful musician, yet many of those same critics shy away from befriending him due to his unconventional nature.  I felt the same thing being done to Walter throughout the film, both by the other characters and by myself as a viewer.  I though Walter was an insanely good character, yet overlooked his legitimate mental illness.  If I were to meet a similar person on the street today I would shy away from him immediately.  A film like The Beaver, despite its absurdity makes us acknowledge that mental illness occurs in various forms and that we must be careful to criticize it whether it is a person who suffers severe depression or more humorously talks through a puppet.  Often the latter is the one in need of more help, despite outwards signs saying otherwise. 

I am going to avoid recommending the purchase of this film, given that I am uncertain about its rewatchability.  Fortunately for you, Amazon.com has a digital rental version. Overall, I enjoyed The Beaver and will likely place it on my Top Ten Films of 2011.  A statement I never would have imagined myself saying months ago upon first hearing about the film.

You Don't Know Me, But I Know You: The Lives of Others (2006)

The cinema of post-World War II Germany is bleak and desolate.  It displays its expressionist roots, without the faint promise of redemption.  Think most specifically of Fassbinder's nightmares that are often gritty, painfully distant and sparse in dialogue. Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck's directorial debut The Lives of Others adheres to this style of filmmaking, but manages to rekindle the glimpses of humanity that had long disappeared from German films.  She is Wim Wenders, but with a tighter focus on reality and a connection to human experience more indicative of Italian Realism.  The Lives of Others is a rather predictable film that still manages to suspend its viewers placing them into dueling worlds in which they are constantly confused about what group represents good and evil, a divide of ideals that is as thick as the wall that divided Germany in the era depicted within the film.

I am going to dance around the rather lengthy and multifaceted plot, because to explain it in too much depth would be to rob viewers of an intensely emotional movie that is almost entirely predicated on character evolution and regression.  With that being said, the film focuses the majority of the narrative on two individuals the GDP lieutenant Hauptmann Wiesler (Ulrich Muhe) whose professional job entails him interrogating dissidents to the GDP, as well as planting and monitoring surveillance setups for possible political dissidents.  The other portion of the narrative focuses on Wiesler's current subject, the famous playwright and previously outspoken political rebel Georg Dreyman (Sebastian Koch).  After attending one of Dreyman's plays Wiesler suspects Dreyman of political subversiveness and demands to be allowed to monitor him.  Wiesler's higher up dismisses this claim at first, but agrees to allow him access after one of his superiors shows interest in Dreyman's girlfriend and main actress Christa (Martina Gedeck).  Dreyman shows much enthusiasm for his job and is determined to nail Dreyman with insubordination as soon as he finds evidence.  However, as Wiesler comes to discover Dreyman, and his associates are experience a rather unfair living because of the GDP and the simple act of living proves unbearable.  Without expanding further on the plot, Wiesler comes to realize that his actions are inhumane and that his spying is leading to the downfall of an arguably innocent man.  What follows is a both tragic and redemptive film about personal choice and being honest in the face of unseen judgment.

The Lives of Others is preoccupied with voyeurism.  It is both a film about watching those who are unaware of a gaze, as well as the ethical dilemna of enjoying a film about invading privacy.  What Von Donnersmarck does is creates a film where the viewer both condemns and partakes in voyeurism creating an ethical dilemma for the viewer.  We, as viewers,are appalled by the actions Wiesler and his men undertake, yet at no point did I feel as though I should stop watching the film, in fact I eagerly anticipated each of his discoveries and applauded him for using his infiltration to attempt to mend the problems that arose.  However, it raises the question as to whether or not such an invasion of privacy is appropriate, particularly in the wake of ever-increasing government infiltration into our daily lives (Think the PATRIOT Act).  The question than becomes whether Wiesler's good actions justify his voyeurism, because he is inevitably invading privacy to do so.  Or to make it more relative to daily life, is it justifiable for our government to tap are phone calls and hear our most intimate secrets, purely on the belief that one out of every thousand conversations could prove to be a national threat.  I by no means am attempting to provide and answer, but am simply applauding The Lives of Others for bringing the question about so eloquently.  It is a film that displays a quest for answers, but only provides the viewer with questions.

The Lives of Others is the reason blu-ray players exist, but a copy immediately.

You Cannot Run From This, It Will Follow You: Paranormal Activity (2007)

I felt that after The Blair Witch project and its use of the "found footage" method nothing would prove as successful or as scary as that film.  I was wrong; Cloverfield used the same filming style and became a standout film upon its release.  However, when approaching Paranormal Activity, I expected little more than a domestic version of Blair Witch...oh how I was mistaken.  Oren Peli's psychological approach to a personal phobia results in an eerie film that, while not brilliantly acted is without a doubt one of the scarier films I have seen in the past few years.  It combines the suspense of any high budget horror movie, yet sparsely uses special effects and manages to pace itself much better.  Furthemore unlike many of its contemporaries Paranormal Activity delves into the human psyche and its preoccupation with the unseen, even if what we want to discover proves to be deathly.

The film, as noted earlier, sets itself up as a "found footage" documentary.  It follows Micah (Micah Sloat) and his girlfriend Katie (Katie Featherston) as they attempt to videotape and record audio of a entity that Katie clams to be haunted by.  Of course, in classic horror fashion Micah finds this to be absurd but plays along with the ordeal with hopes of creating different types of videos with Katie.  Slowly through reviewing the video, and using various avenues of demonic communication Katie and Micah discover that their house is indeed possessed by a demon, one that desires to possess Katie and maim Micah.  Despite their best efforts to escape the unseen demon, Micah and Katie fall victim to it in what may be one of the best closing scenes to a horror film I have ever seen, and in found footage fashion the film simply ends, no credits and little explanation for the aftermath of Katie.

I will admit up front that I may be reading too much into this film, but I cannot help but feel that it was intended to be something far more analytical than a simple horror film.  I think Peli envisioned the film to be a commentary on the public nature of relationships in a society that is growing more technologically invasive with each day that passes.  The film shows the downfall of their relationship, using the demon as a metaphor for jealously, distrust and animosity.  No matter what the couple does, one thing is certain, they cannot escape the gaze of the camera.  The intervention of friends only prove to divide Micah and Katie, as it becomes a point of contention over who is properly dealing with the demonic issues.  In a moment of brilliance, Peli has a psychologist/psychic visit the house only to admit that he is of no use to this couple, not only in regards to their demon possession, but for their decaying relationship as well.  While the ending is certainly an unlikely outcome for a splintering relationship, it does serve to show that such divisions can prove drastic if not properly dealt with.  This film is primarily a horror film, but it serves a secondary purpose as an eye into contemporary romance its how easily love can falter in the face of obstacles.

This movie is intense and may prove too much for the faint of heart.  However, it is a sound horror film and certainly a new convention in the genre.  It is sad to see the director going in the route of multiple sequels, but this is certainly a stand-alone work worth owning for horror and film buffs alike.