Los cronocimenes.

Another packed theater this week for Nacho Vigalondo's first feature length film, "Los Cronocrimenes (2007)" which translates into English as "Time Crimes." Thankfully, my viewing at Cinema 10 was my second encounter with the three Hectors, and I was able to appreciate the film on a new level. As was the subject of my last post, this Spanish film was a relatively low budget picture at just over $2 million, and it's clear that none of that money was wasted. The director even cut corners at appropriate - but never detracting - spots, particularly with the cast which consisted of only four actors, one of whom was the director himself.

The film follows Hector, a middle aged Spanish man, who gets inadvertently caught up in a web of time-travel. He finds himself chased by a strangely dressed assailant, which leads him to a lab where his only means of escape from certain death is in the belly of pretty plain looking tank. Transported back through time by only an hour, Hector tries to go home, but is stopped short when he sees his wife is having an affair... with - gasp! - Hector! Even though there's no technical difference, Hector feels the need to see to it that he, himself, gets back with his wife. Confusing? Only slightly. He foolishly and selfishly sets off a series of events that results in a deeply troubling, philosophical film.

Perhaps one of the film's strongest points is that it wastes no time trying in vain to explain the intricacies of the time travel it presents. There are no flashing machines or flux capacitors (Ahem...), or long involved monologues about what could happen if Hector interacts with his former self. Instead, the writer/director focuses on story and character, which should always be a film maker's intention. The audience gets a chance to see three different aspects of Hector's psyche as he's put through various tests of himself. We see - quite literally - his different faces and what each means to accomplish. In the end, though, his goal throughout is a noble one: to stay with and protect his wife.

There are two things present that are troubling. Maybe more. Almost definitely more, in fact. The first, though, is the overwhelming longing one feels after leaving the theater. It's a thirst that can only be satisfied by answers to questions that cannot possibly be answered. I'm not at liberty to spoil any aspect of the movie if you have not yet had the chance to see it, so I'll only say that I wonder what happens to the Hector we have at the end. Does he stay, or does he disappear? (On that note: the ending was perfect and beautiful in a manner reminiscent of "Fight Club (1999)" in which the two central characters find some comfort in the crumbling infinity around them). It's not a bad longing, the viewer is just left pleasantly unsettled. While most films have some sort of backdoor or solitary shot that allows for a relieving understanding of the film, this one is sealed up.
Secondly, the film seems to be haunted by the "horror" label. Maybe this is for the sake of American audiences, which differ drastically from those in Spain (as does the film industry). Horror has come to imply some sort of gore, and at the very least, a scary scene or two. You're not supposed to want to sleep alone after watching because you're scared of what's lurking. But this film has none of that. It's not scary or frightening, and is completely devoid of gore. It doesn't need blood and guts; it's not dependent upon people jumping out of the dark. It puts you on the edge of your seat and makes you want to sleep next to someone because it's suspenseful and thought provoking. It makes you want to share a bed so thoughts can be shared, and a comfort can be found in the blissful hopelessness that the film offers. Let's just call the film sci-fi and leave it at that.

Verdict: So Stoked! I could say "Great Scott," and it would be equally as appropriate. The film is surprising and smart and is nothing like I expected, which is said with something like an exhausted contentment. It's entertaining as hell as most definitely is a mental exercise. See the Spanish-Language English-Subtitled version if you can; there's a certain tone to the original language that adds to the film. The dialogue is minimal in the first place, so subtitles should not be an issue. Incredible turn out from the Cinema 10 Crowd, though I'm not sure what to expect for next weeks exhibition of "The Beaches of Agnes (2008)".

Oh my god.

"Paranormal Activity (2007)" just got a wide release, and I had the pleasure of catching the midnight screening with a bunch of friends at the Roxy Theater. I cannot recall ever having been so terrified by a movie in my life. For the first time in a long time, we got to watch a horror movie that wasn't dependent upon CGI or gore or nudity, like so many others that are getting released for the Halloween season (including "Saw VI (2009)" which also played last night). The terror was in what you didn't see: the loud noises, the screaming, and the total absence of the ghost's form. Each time I expected the movie to pussy out and throw in a cliche, it ignored me, and went right along its path. Instead of wasting his money on gallons of blood, first-time director Oren Peli spent his money on letting your imagination do the work. He conditioned us for an hour and a half to tense up every time the lights went out, and then pulled that rug out from under us, too. I'm trying not to reveal too much here, so I have to be vague. What I can say without tip-toeing is that the movie let out around 1:30 AM, and my friends and I weren't comfortable enough to go to bed until 5 AM. Although we laughed and tried to ease up, we found ourselves in the grips of what could only have been PTSD every twenty minutes, as we recalled scenes from the movie that made our skin crawl. I would be listening to a friend tell a hilarious story, but I would be off in space, reminiscing about this movie, hypersensitive to all the creeps and bumps in the building around me. Oh, and still scared out of my fucking mind.

All I can really say is that you need to go see this movie. There are certainly some people that won't find it frightening and will think that it was boring. And that's fine. You're allowed to be wrong. Even if it's not your cup of tea, it's still a really innovative movie that's found a good balance between the shaky cam fixation and standard haunting stories. Its predecessors can't compare.

Verdict: So Stoked. Theater was almost full, and everyone stood outside afterwords shaking, but not from the cold, and laughing, but not because anything was funny. This movie is worth your money.

Too much on your plate.

Food, Inc. (2008) is one of the better documentaries to be released in recent memory. Not only is it a compelling presentation of shocking, and often times sickening information, but it is also a film that employs a number of classic cinematic techniques to scare the shit out of you. And it does. Granted, I didn't leave the theater vowing to convert to a plate full of organic food, or swear off store bought beef for the rest of my life. I did, however, take a step back and just stew in what Robert Kenner had just spent an hour and half showing me. I knew going in that there would be some grainy night vision footage of animals being abused. I was prepared for that and was completely unaffected by it, as cruel as that might sound. I've seen it all before. What had me struggling to keep my dinner down were the mountains of overwhelming corn to which half of the film was devoted. Shot after shot of corn falling at the screen, or the camera panning across an ocean of corn that is destined to become soda and crackers and feed. It all boils down to a food industry in which there is little to no variety, with a handful of people controlling what goes into your body three times a day. The film did what any documentary should do, which is preach to the unconvinced and spark a fresh thought. It made me wonder why my family, after so many years, had stopped relying on our own garden and animals for food. There was a time when our kitchen was full of home-grown vegetables and home-slaughtered pig. Why had we stopped doing this altogether so suddenly? That I can't answer, though the film shows why this happens with a lot of families. What I can say is that it makes me, and probably a lot of other viewers, long for locally grown food.

I was excited to see this film, even though I was prepared not to agree with a lot of what was presented (as I assumed that it would be a message laden with organic-only intentions). I grew more and more excited as the theater continued to fill until only a few seats were left. Following the film there was a panel discussion about the importance of locally owned and operated food production, which strengthened the film's message by allowing the opinions of those closer to the audience than the flashing images. Even better was that every person left the theater talking. That's what a good documentary - a good film - does. It stirs shit up, throws a wrench into the machine so that people start questioning what they're doing. While it wasn't the most artsy film Cinema 10 has brought to Potsdam since I've been attending, I cannot think of movie with more a connection to the North Country. Of all the films, I've attended, this one seemed to have the biggest impact.

My only concern (and the cause of a certain degree of puzzlement) is the inclusion of information regarding the founder of Stonyfield Farm. What bothers me is that his story almost goes against what the film encourages, which is for people to support local farming and demand to know what's going into their food. While Stonyfield Farm produces organic only yogurt products, this does not mean that they have anything to do with local interests. Just because something is labeled "organic," does not mean that it comes from a small, independent producer. The founder says that his business deal with Walmart is a small step toward the nation becoming more involved in their food choices. But selling out to one of the largest (if not the largest) suppliers in the world seems to take away from the movement. There's even a segment in the film where the producers and Stonyfield's founder walk around a convention full of organic and "independent" food producers. But, as is pointed out, most of these companies are owned by larger businesses like Coke and Pepsi. What this means is that although the ingredients might be organic, someone is still getting fucked. Walmart sets the prices because they command the majority of the market on everything. They're still going to find a way to produce the organic food cheaper and quicker so that there can be more of it supplied to people as the demand grows. He's taken his business from something small and meaningful, to just another wing in the corporate mansion. By buying in, he seems to have lost sight of what the movement means. Am I reading into this correctly? I wonder, then, why the film makers included this. Perhaps it's because they disagree with his methods, and are showing his methods as if to say that this is the opposite of what should be done. Maybe I'm wrong? I would absolutely love feedback on this, because when I think about this film, I get caught up on this section.


Verdict: Pretty much Stoked. Amazing turnout. I wish the response was always this great, and maybe it will be from now on. Really looking forward to next week's screening of Los cronocrimenes (2007).

Food, Inc!

So the plan is as follows, dudes and dudes. On the 19th, the Roxy Theater will be screening Food, Inc. twice, with a panel discussion following the first. It's a look into the corporate dominated world of the Food industry, and it's received really good reviews thus far. I don't remember where, but someone said it was "the film 'Fast Food Nation' should have been." Or something to that effect. Either way, it'll probably be busy come showtime, so make sure you show up early to get your tickets. Just because you have a season pass does not mean you are guaranteed a seat. Too many pronouns in this.

"She'd never looked so beautiful."

The only Japanese cinema to which I had been exposed before this week's Cinema 10 film were the likes of "Battle Royale," "Oldboy," and "Tokyo Gore Police." There's also the slew of horror movies that have been remade for American Audiences. While these movies are actually completely awesome, they all deal with subject matter that's pretty disturbing. "Departures" was something entirely different. Made in 2008, it received an Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film, and I can understand why. Yojiro Takita's film work is nothing short of beautiful.

The film follows Daigo Kobayashi, a struggling cellist, as he attempts to make ends meet in a less than respectable position. After his orchestra is dissolved, he takes up the shunned craft of preparing the deceased for cremation. He is a blissfully awkward character in the midst of indifference and unfaltering joy. Though he's seen as something of an untouchable after he begins cleansing the skin of the dead, he finds some comfort in it, and eventually learns to love what he does. But that all sounds kind of trite and unoriginal. A person thrust into uncomfortable circumstances, and then coming to terms with his station in life? Been done. But Takita plays up such a parallel between the living and the dead, between what it means to be alive and what happens when we're dead, that other films that address such circumstances fall short. "Departures" is comic, yet sad; beautiful, yet dingy. You won't know what I'm saying until you see the film, as it is nothing short of phenomenal, so find it on Netflix or at Video King or whatever you have.

But before you do that, I want to say what I have to say, dammit! All I could think of in the theater was how much this film had in common with 2007's "No Country For Old Men." Stay with me. There have been a few occasions where I've started at my DVD collection and found pairs of movies that were opposite sides of the same coin. For example, "Trainspotting," and "Requiem for a Dream," would be heads and tails, respectively. Both deal with heroin addicted groups of friends, but while one suggests something hopeful, the other is somber and depressing. "No Country" is about fate; how the only real certain destination anyone has is the afterlife, and to what do our lives between birth and death really amount? It leaves the viewer wondering what all of their morals and ideas mean, and if they matter. "Departures" also deals in fate, but is much more uplifting. The film recognizes that death is the only true certainty anyone can have, but the departed here are treated with such care and grace that the viewer can't help but think that maybe it's a peaceful drift down that god damn lake of fire.

Verdict: Completely and Utterly Stoked.

The only real criticism I have is that this is another film that's a victim of its trailer. Because the companies seem so intent on showing you everything in the movie in the two minutes of trailer, you get a pretty clear idea of how the film's going to end a lot earlier than you should. Any foreshadowing to the ending that the film uses seems so obvious because of the trailer, that a lot of the surprise is used up by the time we get to the climax. Oh, well.

By far the best film Cinema 10 has brought to Potsdam in recent memory, certainly this season. The crowd was nearly double that of the previous week, and the theater was noisy with the buzz of opinions as the credits rolled. Hopefully the showings continue to impress.

Cinema 10's going to take a break next week, as SUNY Potsdam will be on October break. It will return on the 19th with "Food Inc." Can't wait.