Monday, January 30, 2006

duck amuck


Duck Amuck
d. Chuck Jones, 1953

A lot of great films have been made about making movies. There's what is probably the best, Federico Fellini's 8 1/2. Other great ones include Jean-Luc Godard's Contempt, Ingmar Bergman's Persona, and to some extent Jean Cocteau's Blood of a Poet, which applies to all artists.

Then there's Chuck Jones' 1953 short animated film, "Duck Amuck." And though it may be one of the most famous cartoons of all time (if only because it stars Daffy Duck talking directly to the screen), I don't believe it gets the recognition it deserves for masterfully dissecting the cinematic art.

In it, Daffy Duck argues with the artist about the expectations of a film. At first, he is seen riding a horse dressed up as a knight. When the setting is changed, Daffy Duck gets angry and the timeless monologues to the screen begin. Whenever Daffy Duck adapts to the new setting, the artist decides to change it.

In less than 7 minutes, Chuck Jones and his writer Michael Maltese are able to explain the nature of cinema and its possibilites in such an apparent way that it seems almost too simple. The message I get by the end of the film is that movies work at their best when they are not tied down by a story (a perfect statement for an animator to make), but instead when it indulges in its endless possibilities. Would you rather see Daffy Duck and Bugs Bunny in some heightened and predictable melodrama, or in a surreal setting plotting ingenious shenanigans? I thought so.

Of all the Looney Tunes cartoons, the ones by Chuck Jones are the best ("Duck Amuck" is probably my favorite). Another two that I have rewatched recently are "One Froggy Evening" (1955) and "What's Opera, Doc?" (1957), all three are part of the National Film Registry for preservation in the Library of Congress.

In "One Froggy Evening," Jones and Maltese tackle the issue of greed through the ages in an ingenious way, as they did to the cinema in "Duck Amuck." "What's Opera, Doc?" is very famous for its use of Wagner (topped only by Coppola's Apocalypse Now) and everyone has probably seen it, and it provides a great arguement about how the only way for a "story" to be effective on film is by leaving it behind and focusing on finding originality within those themes, everything else is superfluous.

Watching "Duck Amuck" today is a testament to its own brilliance. It's a 7 minute cartoon made more than 50 years ago. And yet, it is as entertaining, ingenious, and lovely as basically any other film.

Saturday, January 28, 2006

jules and jim


Jules and Jim
d. Francois Truffaut, 1961

Francois Truffaut's 1961 masterpiece, Jules and Jim, is one of the most beautiful movies ever made. In my opinion, it is also the best of all the films that came out of the French New Wave, and the best motion picture of the 1960's.

The film is about two friends, Jules and Jim, who meet in 1912. Jules (Oscar Werner) is Austrian and Jim (Henri Serre) is French. The opening shots show them talking to each other and the voice-over narration (the best of any film I've seen) tells the audience that they translated poetry and taught each other their languages. Jim has more luck with girls than Jules, who is introduced to many by his friend. At one point during the first sequences, the narration announces that "taking Jim's advice, Jules decided to finally take up professionals, with no luck." This is followed by the shot of a woman's leg with a watch around her ankle, and no further explanation. It is narrative freedom like that that you do not see in many modern films, and one of the main reasons I love Jules and Jim so much is the way the story flows.

The film covers more than 20 years in 105 minutes, and does it in such a way that by the end of my first viewing I knew I hadn't gathered half of what I was supposed to. Jules and Jim really gets going when Catherine (Jeanne Moreau) is introduced. Jules and Jim meet her at a small gathering arranged by Jules' cousin. Catherine starts a relationship with Jules, and Jim spends time with them and they have a great time together. In one particularly wonderful scene, they go to the theatre together. Afterwards, arguing about the female protagonist of the play, Catherine jumps into a river to the astonishment of Jules and Jim. This scene establishes her as the engine that will drive the rest of the movie.

When World War I breaks out, Jules and Jim are sent to fight with their respective militaries. The narration (both by the narrator and in a letter by Jules) tells the audience that they both fear they might kill each other while fighting. Luckily, they are both still alive by the end of the war. Jules and Catherine are married by then and urge Jim to come and visit them, for he is considering marrying his own girlfriend, Gilberte.

Once there, they all spent some nice time together. Jim meets their daughter, Sabine, and they all seem rather happy. This continues until Jules announces, to Jim's surprise, that Catherine is not completely happy with the marriage, and has run away with lovers once before ("three that I know of," he tells Jim). Ultimately, Jules knows that Catherine will never be content with anything, but he loves her enough to believe they can make it. Eventually, Catherine takes a liking to Jim (who has liked her for some time), and he moves in with them.

The three of them, and Sabine, live in the country home. Jules believes this is best because he can stay close to Catherine, who he thinks will be happy with Jim. However, as by now the audience expects, Catherine is not content with Jim for a long time, she gets bored and wishes to go back with Jules. This is the on-going pattern that drives the film, and to say more about the story would dimish a first viewing.

The film's effect is largely due to its cinematography, by Raoul Coutard, who photographs the film in elegant shots. The way Jules and Jim looks is a departure from other New Wave films like, say, Godard's Breathless, whose fast-paced jump shots were also intriguing, if not as fascinating as Truffaut's direction. The score by Georges Deleure is one of my favorite in all the cinema, and it's more of a combination of wonderful images and music than just those two isolated elements.

Ultimately, Jules and Jim is about two guys who spent some of the earlier years of their lives in wonderful harmony. Their inability to realize that that kind of situation would not carry on into their adult lives led them to dark places, with Catherine as the catalyst.

However sad the film may be, it is still certainly one of the most enthralling and uplifting films the cinema has ever produced.

the squid and the whale


The Squid and the Whale
d. Noah Baumbach, 2005

Noah Baumbach's The Squid and the Whale is probably the funniest comedy of last year, one that, in recent times, can only be matched by something of Wes Anderson's. And indeed this film does share some similiraties with Anderson's films; if only in its writing, seeing as to how Baumbach co-wrote The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou. However, I still believe Anderson's films are more inventive and, in their own way, funnier.

A lot of the success of The Squid and the Whale comes from the writing, which is reminiscent of Woody Allen's work as well as french new wave films like Truffaut's The 400 Blows. Although its screenplay is the movie's strongest point, its visual style is no less than admirable, if less inventive than Anderson's. The film was shot on Super 16, and the grainy, organic effect that it creates is one that I am instinctively drawn to.

The film revolves around the Berkman family. The parents, Bernard (Jeff Daniels) and Joan (Laura Linney) are both writers, and they have two sons, Walt (Jesse Eisenberg), who is 16, and Frank (Owen Kline), who is 10. Soon after the opening scenes, the parents decide to separate, and the rest of the film is about the aftermath. The film observes as Walt sides with his father while Franks clings to his mother, as secrets are revealed, and as they try to come to peace with one another. And, yes, it's a comedy.

Although I am unsure as to how strong the film's message really is, it certainly does a great job at observing these particular characters and painting interesting and heartfelt exchanges between them.

The result is a very enjoyable film that is, at once, both funny and sad. All of the scenes are great in their own way, and The Squid and the Whale is never boring. There is so much intellectual wit and cultural references in it that you'd think you were watching something Woody Allen would have made soon after Annie Hall.

Friday, January 27, 2006

freaks


Freaks
d. Tod Browning, 1932

I was somewhat surprised to find out that Freaks was controversial upon its release, back in 1932. The reason for the controversy was Browning's use of real "freaks," but to me it is hard to believe that anyone who watches the film walks out of it feeling offended, when its message is a rather good one.

The film centers around the lives of people who work at the circus, some of them "freaks," some not. A full grown woman (as the film's tagline calls her) pretends to be in love with a little person so as to take his money. Hans, the little person, truly believes that she loves him.

Freaks' brief running time, right around an hour, goes by so fast that it has hardly any down moments, it works for the film because dragging the simple story for too long would have been a mistake. The same, I think, goes for the Marx Brothers' masterpiece Duck Soup, which benefits from its running time because every single scene is funny, as opposed to, say, certain sequences in A Night at the Opera. Amongst over-pretentious and self-important films, it is always nice to watch one that knows exactly what kind of story it is telling, and does it magnificently.

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

mccabe & mrs. miller


McCabe & Mrs. Miller
d. Robert Altman, 1971


Having seen Robert Altman's McCabe & Mrs. Miller twice now, it is quickly becoming one of my favorite of all films. However, I'm not sure how well I can explain a lot of my reasons for that.

Every once in a long while, I discover a film that I just fall in love with; everything from the music, how it looks, the mood it evokes. For me, McCabe & Mrs. Miller is one of those rare films. A movie of extraodinary beauty, heart, and, above all, an amazing piece of filmmaking.

Robert Altman fashioned this masterpiece at the beginning of the 70s, and it was one of his first films. He actually built a town in Vancouver that works pretty much the way it looks in the film, and the crew and cast lived there for a while. The effect that all these elements bring is unparalleled by any film.

McCabe & Mrs. Miller is the story of John McCabe's arrival to the town of Presbyterian Church. He rides in on his horse and goes into the bar, makes sure he knows where the back door is, and begins playing poker with the locals. The town is made up of roughly 125 men and most of them are involved in the construction of it.

McCabe decides he is going to build a saloon and a gambling house. After having purchased three women and with the place somewhat done, Mrs. Miller comes into town. She is a whore that "knows a lot about whores." She offers him her partnership on account that he knows nothing of women and needs someone like her to keep business running properly. He agrees, and soon the place is open for business.

Although Mrs. Miller plays a key role in the film, this is McCabe's story, and what a sad story it is. Yet, the film is not sad in the sort of heightened melodramatic cliched way, it is much deeper than that. From the beginning you sense a yearning for love that is never going to come to him, not with Mrs. Miller, and certainly not in the town of Presbyterian Church. Often he speaks to himself, saying things like "I got poetry in me!" and "All you've cost me is money and pain. Pain" shortly after leaving an unsuccessful visit to Mrs. Miller. The film's tone also owes something to the way Altman uses the songs of Leonard Cohen ("The Stranger Song," "Winter Lady," and "Sisters of Mercy" are used in the film).

Without any sort of introduction, in classic Altman style, the audience finds out things about these characters. As when McCabe gets into bed with Mrs. Miller and it hasn't yet been established that they are sleeping together, then it turns out that she's been charging him just like all the other guys that visit the place.

Sometime later in the movie, two guys from a big company come and try to buy all of McCabe's holdings. Being the proud man he is, he turns them down. Mrs. Miller realizes how big a mistake he's made ("They'll shoot you in the back as soon as they'd look at you," she tells him), but he pretends to believe he can negotiate with them. But he knows the time has come, the company will send someone to kill him.

More than any story could provide, the film gives the audience several moments of raw emotion as good as have ever been put on screen. There a lot of great scenes in McCabe & Mrs. Miller, but it would be pointless to describe them for they all depend on Altman's direction and Vilmos Zsigmond amazing cinematography to be effective.

Another revelation that comes in the film is that Mrs. Miller tries to hide the fact that she smokes opium. She often has all her doors locked because of it, as when McCabe comes to visit her. That realization further emphasizes the sort of distant relation both of them have, a relationship which is based entirely on business (to McCabe's disliking, of course). Also, a statement emerges throughout the film about the big company that is trying to buy McCabe out. They may be ruthless and unfair, but the film has the courage to admit that just as bad is inherent human nature, which can't be taken away with any sort of law and order.

All of these different elements are developed in such an effortless way into a breathtaking viewing experience that is truly like no other. It's hard to imagine that this film is not widely considered one of the best ever. It deserves as much recognition as other 70s masterworks like, say, The Godfather or Taxi Driver.

Films have come and gone since 1971, but McCabe & Mrs. Miller is to remain a timeless materpiece for the ages.

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

naked


Naked
d. Mike Leigh, 1993

I had been waiting to see this film for a while now, since I've heard a lot about it and its director, Mike Leigh. Luckily, I wasn't disappointed by Naked. Except for Scorsese's Taxi Driver and Coppola's The Conversation, this is the best film about social isolation that I've seen.

Its main character, Johnny, spends the movie drifiting from place to place through the London streets. He goes to his old girlfriend's house, hooks up with her friend, leaves, meets some other people, and eventually goes back.

Mike Leigh famously improvises his movies. But from what I've gathered, it's actually a very organized and calculated form of improvisation. Regardless of the form, the film's writing and direction are top-notch here. As is the acting by the whole cast, particular David Thewlis as Naked's protagonist Johnny.

There are many very interesting sequences in the film, all of them revolving around conversation (mostly Johnny's). My favorite is probably the one that takes place in an empty building when a guard lets Johnny in. He goes on to basically speak against everything the guard believes (i.e. by trying to prove that God is bad, the apocalypse is coming, and that evolution pretty much proves everything the guard believes wrong). The way the conversation unfolds as they walk through the building is wonderful, as are most of the scenes in the film.

The film comes full circle in a pretty unexpected way. At the beginning, he was arguing with his closest acquaintance, and he runs away. By the end, he's getting along with her, yet still he runs away. What did it get him?

the new world


The New World
d. Terrence Malick, 2005

Terrence Malick's The New World is probably the most ambitious and daring movie to come out last year (and, in my opinion, the best). In an age of sequels, remakes, and every other movie being the same, it is nice to know that there are directors out there still willing to take a chance with a film like this.

The New World contains such extraodinary beautiful sequences and imagery, it demands to be seen on the big screen. While watching it, I was reminded of the world Herzog was able to create in his Aguirre, the Wrath of God. The film tells the story of the founding of Jamestown colony and, though the name is not mentioned in the movie, Pocahontas. Malick has taken this historical myth and turned it into a breathtaking experience that is at once very intellectual and very emotional. At first, it is deceptively simple. I even had my doubts about it during the first couple of sequences. But once Malick begins layering perspectives and drawing parallels between all the people in the film, it is hard to deny its powers.

I am still overwhelmed by The New World, as it is very complex. But I know that it is one that I will be revisiting in the future, if not in theatres again. Maybe I'll write something more descriptive then.

the night of the hunter


The Night of the Hunter
d. Charles Laughton, 1955

Easily one of the strangest American films of the 50s, Charles Laughton's The Night of the Hunter stands as one of the best of all film-noirs. This is, however, in no way a conventional one. It is way more eerie and has a completely different tone from films like, say, Double Indemnity or The Big Sleep.

The film stars Robert Mitchum as a "preacher" who goes to prison, meets a guy who is to be hanged the next day. Apparently, he murdered someone and stole 10,000 dollars. The money is now hidden somewhere in his home, with only his two kids knowing where it is. After he gets out of prison, he finds the farm and the rest of the film is that of him trying to get the money.

Though that is essentially what the film is about, it is hardly what truly makes it great. The tone it evokes is so strange (largely due to Mitchum's performance) that you are not likely to ever see anything like it, nor forget it once you see it. The movie was obviously inspired by expressionist films, and The Night of the Hunter does an amazing job at mixing frightening images, dark humor, original photography and set design, as well as the rare ability of being able to turn these elements into a cohesive story of such power that it makes one wonder why the film isn't as highly regarded as other films of the time.

Monday, January 16, 2006

toy story


Toy Story
d. John Lasseter, 1995

Toy Story is, I believe, one of the first few films that I actually remember watching. I'm sure it wasn't, but it certainly was one of the first to make an impression on me. At the time I hadn't really seen many "great" films (except maybe some Keaton, Chaplin, and early Looney Tunes shorts), and the amazement of that first viewing of Toy Story (in theatres I believe), was only later surpassed when I discovered a film like Apocalypse Now or Rear Window.

Now, watching the film after a couple of years, I can definitely see why I liked it so much to begin with. Toy Story, as many people know, was the first fully computer-generated film. Essentially, it's like ballroom scene in Beauty and the Beast except that instead of a couple of minutes, it's 80. However, John Lasseter and his Pixar staff were smart enough to not use this ability as a gimmick, as most animated films do, but instead as a way to fully realize the inventiveness of their story.

The story of the film is very simple, it works under the pretense that all toys lead lives when their human owners are not present. The film opens with Andy's birthday party, and the toys, lead by sheriff Woody, fear that they will be replaced by the new toys that Andy is to recieve. They send an army of army men with a walky-talky to tell the rest of the toys what the presents are.

Problems ensue when Andy receives a Buzz Lightyear. Of all the toys, he is the one not in on the joke; he truly believes he is a "space ranger." The other toys' admiration of Buzz strikes a nerve with Woody, whose jealousy takes over when he feels rejected. Their conflict can only be solved by realizing that they were both just as wrong to begin with. Woody's cynic, jealousy-ridden personality is obviously a bad one, but no more than Buzz's childish idealism. The film argues that a balance is necessary between the two; which is realizing that life is real and not a game, but also acknowledging that, within in this not-so-magical life, there is much room for hope.

Every scene in Toy Story is as lovely as the next. This is in no small part due to the wonderful voice-acting of the whole cast. Tom Hanks as Woody is fantastic, as is Tim Allen's Buzz Lightyear. The "supporting toys" are just as great; Wallace Shawn's neurotic Rex and Don Rickles' Mr. Potato Head are often hilarious and deliver some of the funniest lines in the movie ("Look at me, I'm Picasso","It's Laser Envy").

Every computer-generated film to be released after Toy Story obviously owes something to it. The thing is, the people making recent animated films like, say, Chicken Little are only superficially looking at what the film is is. Sure, the animation's great, but that's not the reason so many people keep going back to it and look at it as the standard for all films of its kind nearly 10 years after its release. Toy Story is, above everything else, a glorious example of what can happen when technical skill and imagination collide.

Saturday, January 14, 2006

pickpocket


Pickpocket
d. Robert Bresson, 1959

More than any other film I've seen, Pickpocket seems to be the dividing line between classic and modern cinema. This may be due to the fact that Robert Bresson, unlike new wave directors like Jean-Luc Godard and Francois Truffaut, was making movies before the actual movement. Pickpocket stands aside from films of the era like Godard's Breathless and Truffaut's 400 Blows and provides a much different experience.

This is probably the most unconventional of all crime thrillers, if it can even be called that. The film is not interested in the high-points or pay-offs of those films, but instead turns out to be a character study of a lonely soul. The pickpocket is Michel, a lonely Parisian who, more or less, appears to be stealing not because he is greedy (though he may very well be), but because it provides some sort of social interaction in his otherwise mundane life.

Bresson's film is very ambiguous, and not at all manipulative, largely due to the performances. He is known for not wanting his actors to emote, he prefers them to merely physically move and let the audience draw its own conclusions from the story and imagery of the film. While watching Pickpocket, I was reminded of the absurdist prose of Albert Camus; Meursault in The Stranger is just as distant and unaffected at the face of everyday life as Michel.

Needless to say, I enjoyed the film and highly recommend it. However, I don't think I've really gathered my thoughts on it just yet. I'll extend on my interpretation after a second viewing.

eyes wide shut


Eyes Wide Shut
d. Stanley Kubrick, 1999

With just one viewing, I'm not really sure if I completely understand the film. But i'll try my best to make my interpretation of Eyes Wide Shut as clear as possible. Above all, the film is an exploration about the difficulties of maintaining a serious relationship (marriage). These issues, the film suggests, arise from problems people have when it comes to balancing both carnal desires and a longing for something deeper: an emotional companion. It's important to point out that the audience recognizes these elements during the opening sequences, and Eyes Wide Shut is not about providing that message, but about analyzing it.

At the beginning of the film, Dr. Bill Harford (Tom Cruise) and his wife, Alice, (Nicole Kidman) are getting ready to go a Christmas party. Once there, they are each lured away from their partners into the hands of other people. Bill by two models who want to take hm to a more "private" place and Alice by a doctor who hits on her as they dance. The movie also introduces the host of the party, Victor, (Sidney Pollack) when he calls Bill up to his room (and away from the models) because a hooker has overdosed in his bathroom.

Bill and Alice go back home and discuss the party at length (while high on pot), this extended shot of their conversation is probably one of my favorite scenes in the film. They each question each other about the party, Bill about the guy Alice was dancing with and she about the two girls. She also begins questioning Bill's fidelity and his perception of her (he is sure his wife would not be unfaithful to him). Alice describes a fantasy she had about a young naval officer and this vision appears in Bill's mind throughout the film.

At the end of that conversation, Eyes Wide Shut follows Bill through the streets of New York as he keeps thinking about what has happened. One of the on-going "jokes" of the film is the way everyone in the film seems to react sexually to Bill. And his walk eventually leads him (with several episodes prior) to a strange party that he is warned to be dangerous by one of its own participants. He leaves the party, goes back home and still has visions of his wife's dream.

Bill spends the next day trying to make sense of the events of that night. Although the adventures of that night take up a lot of the film's running time, I don't think his journey should be taken in a literal way. Kubrick insists on this by introducing one of Alice's dreams into the film. That dream is not nearly as evident as the "real" adventure of Bill's, but, within the subject of the film, is just as important.

There are some more plot twists here and there, but the film serves mostly as an exploration of the themes described above. Kubrick's last film is one of his best and it works as a poignant observation on adult relationships. Few films about the subject are as psychologically complex and even less are willing to discuss the emotions that serve as the basis for Eyes Wide Shut.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

george washington


George Washington
d. David Gordon Green, 2000

It would be hard to deny that this is one of the most beautifully photographed films of recent years. The widescreen cinematography, by Tim Orr, is great in the sense that it knows how to use that space to make some really memorable shots. The photography plays a particularly important part in George Washington since the film doesn't really rely on story so much.

Instead, the film is an exercise at evoking a mood. The mood is bookmarked by the narration of a 12-year old girl who seems to be looking back at the events of a particular summer, and a feeling of both regret and strong memory are present throughout. The film is essentially about the few years before adolescence really kicks in. Most of the characters in the film, all played fantastically, are between the ages of 12 and 13. The few adults in the movie don't really play a key role, and most of the scenes dealing with them revolve around wasting time with the kids, since neither have anything better to do.

Washington takes place in an old industrial landscape in North Carolina. The setting merely serves as the backdrop for a lot of scenes that, although may not form a strong narrative, are cohesive in that the focus never seems to drastically change.

There is more to the film than just kids killing time in an old town, but the "tragedies" come so unexpectedly to the kids (and the audience) that it's no use writing about them. However, the movie isn't really about these events either, they provide (to the kids) the first realization that tragedies can happen. As mentioned above, George Washington is as an exercise at evoking mood, and a damn good one at that.

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

pulp fiction


Pulp Fiction
d. Quentin Tarantino, 1994

Every time I rewatch a great film, and Pulp Fiction certainly is a great film, I tend to notice something new. This time around it was Samuel L. Jackson's film-driving performance. Forget about Tarantino's obvious influences and inspirations, his great elliptical script, flawless direction, and notice the way Jackson delivers his lines. By the time he gets to "I'm trying real hard to be the shepherd," near the end, almost every character in the movie (and they are all well-developed) takes a back seat to this newly enlightened hitman.

Although Jackson's performance is definitely one of the highlights of the film, the true star is obviously Tarantino. Having more resources than when he was making Reservoir Dogs, he was able to fashion a masterpiece so astonishing that very few films I have seen can be compared to it. Other than Paul Thomas Anderson's Magnolia, I don't know if there's another movie of the 90's that deserves to be mentioned in the same sentence as Pulp Fiction.

I am unsure as to whether it is important to describe the film's "story" (stories, actually). I for one don't think the film is necessarily driven by plot, but instead by wonderful conversations and an unforgettable cast of characters. The situations merely arise out of these elements, instead of the other way around, as in most films, where the situations define what the characters say and do.

Pulp Fiction's pacing is one of its best attributes. There is rarely a down moment, and when there is, it is to provide some background information or comic relief, as is the case with Christopher Walken's famous "watch" speech. However, although the film is definitely fast-paced, it is not nearly as violent as it is known to be. There are a couple of scenes of unexpected violence, but the film itself is essentially people talking. Whether it be about Amsterdam, hamburgers, Bible passages, or foot massages.

Few films are as entertaining, fascinating, and audacious as Pulp Fiction.

Friday, January 06, 2006

mon oncle


Mon Oncle
d. Jacques Tati, 1958

I have not seen many of Jacques Tati's films (just this and M. Hulot's Holiday), but he is definitely one of the most original and special directors in all the cinema. His films take the lessons learned from masters like Chaplin and Keaton and mixes them with contemporary cinematic elements (color, elaborate designs, sound effects) to make something new.

While Holiday is a pretty cheerful picture all the way through, Mon Oncle is somewhat more pessimistic (especially in the depiction of the "modern" world). The main focus of Holiday was to evoke a feeling of nostalgia, and it does so very well in its 80 minutes of running time. Mon Oncle is more ambitions, both in its running time (about 2 hours) and its complex set designs, which, in turn, lead to more complicated physical comedy by Tati.

The film revolves around Mr. Hulot (Tati) and his sister's family. Hulot lives on the side of town that is messy, loud, and, in more than one way, alive. His sister and her husband and kid live on a mechanized and sterilized home. The design on the home, without the hilarious sequences that ensue, is a masterpiece of set design onto itself. Tati pays such attention to little detail when it comes to his scenes, that even though they seem effortless, the audience kind of has to figure out that a lot of work went into every single one.

There are tons of wonderful scenes in Mon Oncle. Many of the ones I enjoyed the most revolve around a hideous fountain that Hulot's sister has in her garden. Just as lovely are the ones with Hulot in the factory that he gets a job at. This is the same factory that his brother-in-law is an executive of (the factory makes hoses, by the way).

Mon Oncle is bookmarked by all the wonderful scenes of physical comedy, but it also makes a statement about the perils of leading a mechanized life. Although the film obviously favors the lifestyle that Hulot was leading, the last few scenes leave room for hope that even people submerged in a mechanical world can still learn to really communicate.


Also saw a couple of Stan Brakhage films today, but I am unsure as to what to write about them. Since most of them are short I'll probably rewatch them to see if I can understand them better.

Monday, January 02, 2006

before sunset


Before Sunset
d. Richard Linklater, 2004

Before Sunset
is a brilliant film made by a master director. For little over a decade, Richard Linklater has been perfecting the art of making films that span over a day (or night). The last day of school, and the night that followed, in his Dazed and Confused was filled with unforgettable moments and ultimately provided a touching statement about people's inability to appreciate how special certain things are. Similarly, some of his other films like Before Sunrise (this film's predecessor), Slacker, and Waking Life all take place over a short period of time and rely heavily, almost solely, on conversation.

What makes Sunset his most ambitious project yet is that it doesn't cover several hours, but only about 80 minutes. Essentially, it takes place in real time. This is astonishing in two ways; first on a technical level, because of how difficult it is to shoot long, elegant takes with a lot of dialogue while making it look effortless and easy for the audience to watch. Secondly, and most importantly, the real-time setting is important to this story because it adds a sense of urgency. The movie, which takes place 9 years after the night in Vienna from Before Sunrise, revolves around these two people meeting again and slowly realizing that they may have missed out on something important.

Jesse (Ehan Hawke) and Celine (Julie Delpy) talk about everything from politics, sex, whether they met in Vienna again, their current relationships, and so on. What they are getting at, however slowly, is that they made a connection that night that is probably not going to come again. They are both now wise (pessimistic?) enough to realize that you do not meet many people with which you instinctively communicate with.

The last twenty minutes of the film are some of the best sequences in modern cinema, the dialogue and acting are so carefully nuanced that it makes me forget most bad films I have seen that pay no attention to characters. Although one can certainly enjoy Before Sunset on its own (it is that amazing), the experience is more engaging if you have seen 1995's Before Sunrise, which, although still great, falls short of the astonishing piece of work that is Sunset.

All of these threads (technical skill, wonderful dialogue, naturalistic performances) add up to what the film truly is: the most beautiful meditation on the nature of time that I have ever seen on film.