For Lack of a Topic....

For lack of anything else to write about, I thought I’d offer up a short paragraph or two reviewing some of the films I’ve seen lately. Sorry if this seems like a jumbled mess. Enjoy!

High Sierra (1941)

            I watched this film for my gangster film class. From what I’ve read, it marked a turning point for Humphrey Bogart’s career. He plays a ruthlessly loyal gangster, fresh out of prison and willing to do anything for the game. As a genre piece, the film turns a few of the core elements upside down, and is very conscious of its effort. An extremely entertaining and exciting film. I recommend it to anyone who is interested in the gangster genre, film noir, or Bogart.

Drive Angry (2011)

            I’ve always told people that the most fun I’ve ever had in a theater was the midnight premier of Snakes on a Plane. Everyone in the theater was excited, overtired, and ready to have a good time. It was that exact atmosphere I was expecting for Nicholas Cage’s latest treatise on awful career decisions, Drive Angry. I didn’t exactly get what I wanted. Don’t get me wrong, the film itself was phenomenal. All you need to know is that there is a scene where Nikki Cage kills 8 people while still having sex with a stranger (fully clothed, of course). What I was disappointed in was the crowd. There were only about a dozen people in the theater, it should have been full. Shame on you, Chicago.

High School (1968)

            This was my first foray into the documentary art of Frederick Wiseman. One of the most compelling documentaries I’ve ever seen, this film merely shows what is going on in a Philadelphia high school. There are no interviews, no title cards, and no talking heads. Wiseman films for months in a single location, and then spends a year editing. What High School gives us is a portrait in time. By observing for long enough, Wiseman is able to find profundity in seemingly mundane situations. There’s a beautiful moment in the film where a teacher plays the Simon and Garfunkel song The Dangling Conversation over a tape deck for her students. First she speaks the lyrics, then she asks the students to listen to the song. Is it a poem? What defines a poem? Wiseman is asking the same questions of his film.

The Postman Always Rings Twice (1981)

            I saw this film in class, and we looked at it in search of the authorship of cinematographer Sven Nykvist. The film as a whole wasn’t anything special to me. The hyper-sexual atmosphere was well done, and it had some solid acting, but all in all something seemed to be missing. The strongest element of the film was its cinematography. Nykvist achieves some amazing, highly stylized noir lighting while making it look incredibly natural. He’s the master of soft, naturalistic lighting, and it was incredible to see how that could be translated into a genre with very well established aesthetic conventions. Worth a watch for the cinematography, but I wouldn’t go out of my way to see it again.

Miller’s Crossing (1990)

            Having been studying the gangster film as a genre for the past couple of weeks, Miller’s Crossing was a real treat to take in. It was my second or third time seeing the film, and I have to say it gets better with every viewing. As a genre piece, it’s interesting to look at in terms of gangster conventions. There are certain moments where it diverts drastically, and it is in those moments that the film holds the greatest impact.

The Exterminating Angel (1962)

            This was my introduction to Bunuel, and I couldn’t have been more pleased. I came to realize that my film watching was extremely lacking in terms of Spanish movies, so I got this from Netflix in order to right that wrong. It was stunning in a most unexplainable way. There’s a hidden magic to it, much like when you’re watching a Fellini film. The Exterminating Angel is about a group of upper-class people having a dinner party. At one point during the evening, they realize that they can’t leave the room in the house that they’re in. The force causing their paralysis is never explained. People die, animals run loose in the house, and the upper crust is given a thorough lashing. I recommend it highly and I can’t wait to watch more of his work.

The Battleship Potemkin (1925)

            The Music Box Theater in Chicago was playing a restored print of Potemkin and I knew that I couldn’t miss it. I had seen the film once in its entirety, and had been given instruction on sequences from the film on multiple occasions in class. I had always appreciated the film for its place in film history, but never considered it among my favorites.

            After seeing the restored 35mm print on the big screen, I can now count it among the best films I’ve ever seen. There’s no other way to see that film. The gigantic images, the pulsing score, the hyperactive editing, it all comes together in a gigantic, Russian spectacle on the big screen.

            Most often lauded for its editing, the thing that struck me this time around was how visually beautiful the film is. The father of modern editing certainly knew a thing or two about how to compose an image.

            Potemkin is an exhausting experience. In no other film have I seen such a culmination of ideas and theories. Hegel feeds into Marx feeds into Eisenstein. Ideas are clashing together just as images are. Simply breathtaking.

 The Great McGinty (1940)

            I’ve been on a Sturges kick lately. His haphazard screwball comedies have been hitting me perfectly, and I just can’t stop watching them. They’re all of the utmost quality. Tightly written, directed superbly, and completely ridiculous. There isn’t much more I can say about it. The man is a master.

Trafic (1971)

            And so continues my love affair with Jacques Tati. Again we find our bumbling friend M. Hulot in a biting, hilarious satire about automobile culture. True to form, the film is as hilarious as it is profound. It contains my now all-time favorite Tati bit, where we find Hulot trying to explain to a woman that her dog is not dead. It might not sound like much here, but I suggest you watch the film to see what I’m talking about.

            While I did like the film a lot, there was something lacking about it. I can’t quite put my finger on what was missing, but the heir of meandering contentment that is so prevalent in his other films seemed to be toned down. Not up to par with M. Hulot’s Holiday, Mon Oncle, and Playtime, Trafic is still a must-see for Tati fans and comedy fans in general.

Blue Velvet (1986)

            Yes, this was my first time seeing David Lynch’s cult classic. No, I did not particularly care for it. But I’m not sure that the film was the problem, it was the atmosphere.

            I saw the film at midnight, a time when usually only die-hard fans will show up to revel in how much they love it. Seeing a film for the first time among devotees is a difficult thing to do. These people had seen it again and again. They laughed during parts I didn’t think were funny, they whispered to each other throughout, and there was an aura of expectancy during every scene. For example, people were laughing when Dennis Hopper first entered the frame. Perhaps they were laughing uncomfortably at the moment; maybe it was out of appreciation for the role. Either way it was distracting. This is the last time I’ll see a “cult” film at midnight for the first time. It didn’t sit right with me, but I look forward to revisiting it on my own.

What’s Eating Gilbert Grape? (1993)

            I haven’t disliked a film so much in a long time. There was something about it that rubbed me completely the wrong way. The characters were unsympathetic (which isn’t always a bad thing, but here it is), the plot was predictable, and the whole thing was steeped in clichéd sentimentality that I frankly don’t have any time for. I don’t have much else to say about it. A big thumbs down from me.

Night and Fog (1955)

            One of the first attempts to deal with the Holocaust post-WWII, Night and Fog is incredibly affecting. As with any piece of Holocaust art, the challenge is to shed new light without being exploitive of the subject. Night and Fog does this very well.

            Night and Fog doesn’t attempt to explain. It doesn’t attempt to accuse, it attempts to silently, solemnly reflect. The film recognizes that much of the Holocaust will never be explained. One shot in the film finds the camera passing by a building, the voice over claiming, “it’s useless to describe what went on in these cells.”

            The film does its best not to aestheticize and exploit the human tragedy of the Holocaust. The only ‘new’ footage that Resnais filmed was of the haunting, empty concentration camps. The camera glides through them, accompanied by voice over written by Jean Cayrol, a Holocaust survivor. Cayrol’s beautifully somber words filled with doubt. How could we let this happen? It could happen again.

The Dark Knight (2008)

            I hadn’t seen this film since its midnight release, so it had been a few years since I had first seen it. During that time I had heard a lot about it, about the acting, the nihilistic themes, and the symbolic characters. I have to say, upon revisiting it, the film holds up. It lives up to the three years of chatter that followed its release. It’s exciting, entertaining, and a key to tracking the trajectory of Nolan’s now recurring “intelligent blockbusters.”

Bonnie and Clyde (1967)

            It’s hard to separate this film from the impact it had on American film history. It brought the New Wave to America, savagely depicted violence, and its central characters were young and restless. This was all new for our country in 1967, and it sparked what is now known as the ‘Second Golden Age of Hollywood.’ Incredibly fun, very entertaining, and unabashedly profound, Bonnie and Clyde gets better with every viewing.

Hiroshima Mon Amour (1959)

            My second step into the world of Alan Resnais, Hiroshima Mon Amour is unlike anything I’ve been watching recently. Through a series of conversations, the film meditates on the impact of the atomic bomb in Hiroshima and Europe alike. It also offers some interesting explanations of place, and the effect that a particular place can have on shaping a person. The film combines documentary footage reminiscent of Night and Fog along with the narrative piece. A challenging, rewarding watch.

Biutiful (2010)

            Biutiful is a film that works on some levels, but completely falls apart on many more. The heavy-handed script provides for one of the most emotionally exhausting films that I’ve seen in a long time (and not in a good way). The film brims with intensity, asking the audience to assign emotional significance to every single frame, every single second. There’s simply too much going on here, and the stakes are too high. Javier Bardem delivers a fine performance, and it looks very nice, but the finished product is less than the sum of its parts. Simply put, it should be about half as long and deal with half as much.

The Conformist (1970)

            One of my favorite films, I always relish an opportunity to see it again. Every single aspect of this film works on a higher level.

            The film is an attempt to hold Italy morally responsible for its Fascist period. By examining the psychology of a fascist “conformer,” Bertolucci boils down the psychological motivations and the political refusal of admittance of his fascist protagonist. Using a fractured structure, pitch-perfect cinematography (honestly some of the best this world has ever seen), and superb acting, this film displays a perfect marriage of form and function. Anyone who hasn’t seen this already should do themselves a favor and watch it, read up on it, and watch it again. What seems confusing at first becomes clear with multiple viewings.

Ivan’s Childhood (1962)

            Tarkovsky has gone on record saying that he made this film in order to learn if he “had what it took to become a director.” I think it’s safe to say that he all that it took and more. This is probably the best first film that I’ve ever seen, and I can count it among the best I’ve ever seen. It’s stirring, beautiful, and tragic all at once.

            Ivan’s Childhood tells the story of a young Russian boy whose parents have been murdered as a result of WWII. He ends up joining the army, gaining intelligence through harrowing missions much beyond his years. All the while he is executing his role in the war, he dreams. While his regular life is tarnished and war-torn, his dreams remain untainted gems of childhood yearning. Ivan’s Childhood stands alongside 400 Blows as one of the best films ever made about childhood, and along Grand Illusion as one of the best films made about war.

So there you have it. I’ve done my best to sum them up quickly and quaintly, but I do recognize that this post has run a little bit long. I’ll do my best never to come to a post like this again, as it’s exhausting to write, and I’m sure exhausting to read. From now on this blog will have a little bit more focus and regularity, I promise.

This week I plan to watch both Carlos and Che for a revolutionary-themed comparison. Should be fun. And long.