Bored in Kazakhstan

Tonight was the final Cinema 10 film of the Fall 2009 Season. While I love what Cinema 10 does for the community and appreciate the hard work that goes into setting it up, sometimes the films presented are a bit of a let down. But I've never been so taken aback as I was tonight. It's not that "Tulpan (2008)" was terrible; the acting was fine, and quite a few of the shots contained beautiful images. It just wasn't interesting to me in the slightest. The plot sort of meanders around for an hour and a half, and there's never really any clear indication of what's going on or why we should care about the characters.

The title suggests that a girl named Tulpan will be the person of interest, and she is... sort of. Asa, the protagonist, tries desperately (sometimes) to win her affection, and seems to have turned her into a symbol of change and complacency. That is: once he weds Tulpan and mans his own flock and yurt, he'll be a happy person. The fact that we never see her face leaves a kind of mystery, but even that is not incredibly engaging. The movie begins with Asa's first attempt to court the girl, which predictably ends in a less than desirable fashion. From there, the director throws in about ten minutes of lingering shots on the desert farmland of Kazakhstan and the family's herd. What makes this movie so boring is the lingering and the superfluous information the audience is given. The director devotes an absurd amount of time to the family's animals, and while I understand the purpose - which is, of course, to show the importance of the flock - it's just not entertaining. Animals are not really characters, unless of course it's a single character and his dog placed out in the wilderness, in which case the narrator only has one outlet for interaction. (Or, Ahem...)In this case though, the animals are so numerous and interchangeable that almost any time spent on them seems like too much. In addition, too much importance was placed on the family members. While they were certainly played an integral role in Asa's life, they, like the animals, were the focus of a number of lingering shots that added almost nothing to the film. A little flavor here and there, perhaps, but it could have been worked into a cohesive plot.

Verdict: Not Stoked at all, God Dammit.I fell asleep somewhere around thirty minutes in, coming to and passing out again at various points. When I finally woke to the sound of bleating - a constant, whining reminder that we were stuck on a farm - I didn't feel the least bit guilty. I had missed nothing, and the plot still made perfect sense because it was so loose and wandering that I didn't need to be awake. I was bored to sleep and missed nothing. If you see this movie, make sure you have control of the volume, or stay far away from speakers, lest you have your ears bleated and screamed off by animals and children.

Fantastic Mr. Fox

So I saw "Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009)" for the second time tonight, the first at a private midnight screening, and to applaud it by referencing the first word of the title would be cliche, so I won't. I will, however, say that it was wonderful and is certainly a movie that any Wes Anderson fan would enjoy. But that's also boring, so I'll be perfectly honest. I could not be more pleased with this movie than I am; having seen almost none of the trailers, and even fewer of the tv spots, I went in with a completely blank slate and came out quoting it from the second I left the theater.

I read a review in Entertainment a few weeks ago that gave it an "A" rating, citing that Wes Anderson's style and tone were expressed perfectly through the world of animation, so much so that the critic said the director should have been manning the helm of animated movies from the start. I was hesitant to agree, as I feel that Anderson's live action films are nothing short of hilarious masterpieces. In fact, I was a little taken aback when I first read that Anderson was going to be working on an animated feature. I was not convinced that his subtle and awkward humor could work using anything other than real people. But I had no reason to worry, it turns out. The jerky animation and extreme close-ups that help personify the animals, not to mention the Anderson-esque dialogue, makes you forget that you're watching something fake.

If you love "The Royal Tenenbaums (2001)" and "The Life Aquatic (2004)" but are hestitant to see this movie because it's animated, then shut up. Go hock the G.I. Joe 2-Disc collector's Edition DVD that you got as an early Christmas present for some cash, and go see George Clooney talk smug while killing chickens. There is nothing to worry about. Unless of course you don't enjoy this movie, which means you don't have a soul, and you might want to seek professional help immediately. Why? Each and every line in this movie's 87 minutes is hilarious, and as is typical with all other Anderson movies, there are a few beautiful shots that catch you off guard, that seem almost out of place amidst the humor, but are surprisingly appropriate. The soundtrack is much more playful than his previous works, but it helps the mood and progresses the story. There was something else I wanted to say... oh, yeah. Perhaps what I find most enjoyable about Anderson's expositions is how he introduces each character in segments that are almost asides from the storyline. This film is no different, and is perhaps enhanced by the fact that it is animated.

Verdict: So Stoked out of my mind it's unbelievable. I haven't a single complaint about Wes Anderson's sixth feature length. While some have labeled it a children's movie, that is something of a rushed conclusion. It's certainly more accessible to children, and a lot of the jokes will go unnoticed, and that's okay. But in order to be fully appreciated, the movie's got to be seen by an adult. Jesus, I feel like I just kinda droned on for a few paragraphs. Go see the movie, that's all.

New Moon

Yes, I saw "New Moon (2009)," the newest addition to the Twilight Family. Let's just get that out in the open right here and now. And I wasn't dragged to it. Sure, it was free for me, and that's probably why I went. But I still went of my own accord and in a sober state of mind. And really, honestly? I enjoyed it. It was a wonderful comedy full of off the wall slapstick antics and pointless teenage drama bullshit, sprinkled throughout with delightful special effects that were eye-catching and believable.

Oh. It wasn't a comedy?

Well, then it was just really, really, really stupid. But that's not to say that it was terrible by any means. I'm not going to be one of those IMDb trolls that claims that it was the worst movie ever made and gives it a 1-star rating under four different account names (Ahem...) Robert Pattinson and Taylor Lautner were fine, if over dramatic (which is what the roles call for). Their acting was believable and not quite as off-putting as I expected. By their own admission (in an Entertainment Weekly article), this movie isn't about the acting. It's all about appearances. Still, though, they tried and displayed at least a somewhat vast range of expressions. The most laughable part was Kristen Stewart's acting. I've heard people say that she's a great actress, but I just don't see it. Ever. And I really want to, for a number of reasons. But it just isn't there. Maybe she's just not trying, but every emotion that she's supposed to have seems the same. There was literally no difference in her tone between begging Edward not to leave her and walking away from a motorcycle gang, expressing the "rush" that she felt from the danger. I just don't know how that's passable or reasonable at all. I'm not an actor, though, so I guess I can't talk too much shit.

And I don't want to gripe ad nauseam about the story line. There were plot holes and very clear issues with the display of the passing of time, but in terms of what people actually go to this movie for, that's secondary. It's all about appearances. So, why then, do the werewolves look like cartoon characters? Wikipedia lists the estimated budget for this movie to be between $50 and $70 million. The actors had to be paid, I guess, along with the rest of the crew, but certainly a substantial part of the budget was dedication to visual effects. Despite this, I'm almost positive that everyone in the sold-out theater this morning laughed when the werewolves finally showed up. Let's look at another werewolf flick just for a second. "Dog Soldiers (2002)" is a British Horror movie about a group of soldiers dropped into a forest infested with a family of werewolves. The creatures in this movie look amazing, and are probably the best that I've seen in almost any movie. And yet - gasp! - they weren't created using CGI. To top it all of, all sources indicate that this was a low budget movie, though none can give an exact figure. In any case, it didn't come close to the $70 mil mark. It seems like the creative geniuses behind the second of fifteen films in this Saga could have saved themselves a lot of money by going for a more natural look. Sure, there might have been some functional issues, like the werewolves fighting, but CGI could have been used a little more sparingly.

Verdict: Not Stoked.I feel as though at this point I've droned on far too long for a Twilight movie. It wasn't great, and it wasn't terrible. It was just a money-making, appearance driven feature that had nothing to say. But god dammit am I envious of that Vampire complexion. If I could be pale and glittery at the same time, I think I'd be okay with my life.

Cold Souls

For the first time I feel almost at a loss for words over a Cinema 10 movie. This week was the screening of Sophie Barthes' first feature film, "Cold Souls (2009)," which I have been waiting for since the beginning of the season. It seemed like it would be a perfect movie. It stars Paul Giamatti playing a fictionalized version of himself, and that alone got me Stoked out of my mind for the movie. Add to that a plotline in which he travels to Russia to find his soul after it's been removed from his body. What could go wrong? Existential and maybe metafictional and you've got my approval, even though I don't really understand either concept too well. So why is it that I feel almost totally indifferent to this movie? I feel as though I'm not compelled to ask too many questions, and honestly humored the idea that I, personally, have no soul because I wasn't incredibly touched by this movie and its outstanding ending.

Looking back, I can find no fault with the story, the acting, or the themes. All were incredible. But maybe I wanted too much out of it. Having done so much research prior to the screening, naturally I had certain expectations. But I received something entirely different; I didn't feel how I wanted to feel. Reviewers and critics alike - yes, there is a difference - have drawn some parallels between this movie and other quirky dramas in the vein of Charlie Kauffman. I guess that's why I expected to be moved a great deal, like my last experience with existential, maybe-metafiction, courtesy of Cinema 10 (Ahem...) I find that such films can move me to tears, but Barthes' attempt did not. That is not to say that her debut wasn't beautiful. All of the messages were presented wonderfully, and as I said before, the ending was powerful in a way that I could never master in my art. Why, then, do I feel indifference?

I wonder if I did, indeed, miss something crucial. My brother didn't have to tell me how this picture moved him. It was noticeable in the absence of words, in the grimace that tried desperately to become positive. Others around me wore similar expressions, though I'm not totally convinced that they understood what they saw, either. The only conclusion that I can draw about this film is that it absolutely warrants a second viewing, perhaps a third. Though our souls can be condensed to chic-peas and easily contained, this film won't fit into any glass jar. It's much too deep and vast to be quickly examined and discarded.

Verdict: Not sure how Stoked I am. It might be an important film, but I can't say yet. Get back at me, or watch it for yourself. In fact, do the latter because you're going to draw your own conclusions no matter what I say. But Jesus God, man, respond to all of this and let me know. Someone set me straight.

A Christmas Carol (in 3D)

A friend recently said that in a drunken stupor he stumbled upon my blog in the hopes of finding a review of "A Christmas Carol (2009)". Unfortunately, he did not find it. This is my quick attempt at an apology to him.

The story is one that everyone already knows, but this incarnation had a much darker feel to it. I was surprised to find that it wasn't child friendly, and held nothing back. A few of the images and scenes were fairly brutal, especially for the younger audiences that have been attending. But I don't so much care about them, as I'm pretty relieved that the movie wasn't hokey. It was hilarious when it needed to be, and frightening when the scene called for it. The voice acting left nothing to be desired.

What was much more impressive, however, was the utilization of the 3D effect. This is the first film I've seen that was intended for 3D; the only other attempt was the reissue of Toy Story, which was never meant to be shown in this way, so it jumped back and forth between 2 and 3D, ultimately resulting in a god damn splitting headache. This movie, however, used the effect the entire time, and I could not be more pleased with it than I am right now. While I was fairly convinced that it would be just an attempt to throw things at the screen for some cheap shock value, it was anything but. Granted, there were a few moments where gold flecks and whips flew at the audience, but it was used purposefully. At times where it was snowing on screen, I had to remind myself that I was in a theater, and that the audience around me had no reason to shiver. A scene near the end in which a surprised Bob Cratchit watches from outside the office as Scrooge dances was so deep that I could not believe that I was watching a film; I felt as though I had been dropped into the scene and I was intruding on the action.

Verdict: So Stoked. I firmly believe now that 3D can be a great addition to a film as long as it is utilized carefully. If the effect is your only selling point, so much so that the plot is lacking and wholly unentertaining, don't bother to make the movie at all. If used well, though, 3D can allow the audience to feel like a part of the action instead of an innocent bystander.

Saw VI

Every once in a great while I like to post a review of something that's not Cinema 10 related. This is one of those times. I'm told that this blog is decent enough and thorough, but I'm going to keep this one brief. I think. I don't know, let's see what happens.

After work the other night, I finally got a chance to see "Saw VI (2009)." Sure, you could be wondering why I even bothered; didn't I expect the same gore from the other five installments? Absolutely. But I tend to keep my faith in directors or series for much longer than I should, holding out in the hopes that they'll surprise me or, at the most, redeem themselves (Ahem...) Now let's be clear, the first "Saw (2004)" was and still is awesome. It was incredibly original and very well executed. Its only fault is that it spawned six sequels (as Saw VII is in the works - and in 3D!), and those sequels have sadly failed to match up to the high bar set by the original. The fact is that as long as these movies continue to make money they'll continue being made, no matter how confused and up-their-own-asses they become.

This installment showed that the film makers have got their fingers to the pulse, dropping a Health Insurance Exec into a hell-hole where he's forced to decide who lives and who dies based on a formula he created. Meanwhile, Agent Hoffman is trying to tie up loose ends so as to not be found out to be the current proprietor of Jigsaw, Inc. Like Hoffman, the film itself plays catch-up and answers most of the questions posed by the other five movies. All-in-all was not terrible. The acting was what I expected; the Saw movies rarely have awful actors. But I guess the story just left a lot to be desired. I found myself just repeating, "Really? Come on," and wanting for their to be some semblance of the feeling I had after the completion of the first movie. It just wasn't very gripping or intense, and I didn't have too many reasons to care about whether the characters lived or died.

It ends in such a way that I feel as if there's no need for a seventh installment, but I know this will not be the case. My only hope is that if and when the seventh comes out, it's not just a cheap thrill that uses 3D as an excuse to get rid of plot, much like the last "Final Destination (2009)" film. Although I know the series is mostly just gore and is partly responsible for the infatuation with "torture porn," I can't help but feeling like the original minds behind this have got something up their sleeves that will bring the series home. I.e. - where the fuck is Dr. Gordon and why hasn't he hobbled his way back into my life?

Verdict: Not Stoked. Watched this in a theater with just four other people, which is to be expected now that it's been out for a few weeks. They seemed just as displeased as I was. What I don't get is that I overheard them saying that they had never seen a Saw movie in its entirety. Why go to see it then? Granted, the series has mostly been reduced to gore for gore's sake, but it still relies on plot points from the other five movies. Someone want to help me out with this?

You see what you want to see.

After last week's surprise, I was a little more open to tonight's screening of "Everlasting Moments (2008)." Okay, okay, I'll admit that I fell asleep after about 45 minutes, but I have an excuse! For once my dozing wasn't the result of the movie boring my lids shut, but because of being overly comfortable and tired from such a long, arduous day of being a student of my caliber (Ahem...). On the contrary, my first encounter with a Swedish film was an enjoyable one.

Gritty and minimalist (in regards to the score), "Everlasting Moments" portrays the life of a Swedish woman, Maria, belabored by an alcoholic husband and the children he has her bare. Like so many other films before it, this one is propelled by the horrors of capitalism, and how it can tear families apart. Though a common theme in cinema, it is a story that is told well by director Jan Troell. The cinematography is also noteworthy, as it is nothing short of fantastic. It perfectly captures the Sepia tones present in photography of the early 1900s, accentuated by bursts of color in very particular shots.

Though I'm certainly not ecstatic after watching this, I was only able to find two faults. The first is the narration provided by Maja, Maria's eldest daughter. The voiceover feels almost like an afterthought, as it is prominent in the beginning, and reappears at the end. From the middle section, it seems almost entirely absent, though I know this is not the case. What is spoken seems superfluous; what she says we already know, or can figure out on our own, from the action and the dialogue already occurring. The only time Maja's grown voice plays a crucial role is the resurgence at the end when she comments on her Mother and Father's relationship; quite a bit is revealed here in only a few words. The second area of contention is with the ending. I'm reminded of the fifteen or sixteen endings of "The Return of the King (2003)," though that is a gross over exaggeration. The film seems to end over and over again during the last ten minutes, and though they're all wonderful, they could have been arranged in a different manner, perhaps ending with the snapshot of Maria being spun around in her husband's arm. But I suppose you can't change the past.

Which leads me to my next point: the philosophical nature of "Everlasting Moments." I think this movie bridges on metafilm. Or meta something. I wracked my brain in the theater during Maria's last scene with her would-be lover, Mr. Pedersen, trying to find a term for this. Maybe it's meta-art. If that doesn't ring any bells, what I mean is that this film could be considered art about art. It focuses on a woman's inherent talent for photography, and the things she makes using it. The film, aside from being about family life and the struggles of women in early 1900s Sweden, is about how art is created and the effects it has. At one point, Maria wants to sell her camera back because it's starting to interfere with her home life. She says she forgets that she's a mother and puts all of her effort into her art. As a writer, there are often things I have to put aside to focus on my fiction, and it sometimes is detrimental to my personal relationships. But it is unavoidable. Art in any form, even those intended for exhibition or wholly collaborative, is born out of a certain solitude. Working with a group of people still necessitates that each member participate in serious inner-reflection, and often must shut out those not in the group. This is Maria's quandary. She distances herself in order to produce pictures, and her family suffers as a result.

Secondly, this film asks "what purpose do photographs serve?" This film unflinchingly states that they serve as a window into the past, and are taken under the assumption that the current happy moment will be better than the one that follows. Each picture in this film is taken when there is an abundance of beauty, no matter how ironic. Immediately after the capture, something even worse happens, usually involving the husband's rage. I had more to say during the movie, and now I've forgotten it. If I had written it down (or maybe taken a picture) we'd be in much better shape.

I guess that's all. Thoughts?

Verdict: Not Overly Stoked. Another great turnout. I'd like to think this blog and all of my advertising is having something to do with consistent attendance, but I'll keep my ego at bay for now.

Next week we've got Paul Giamatti playing Paul Giamatti in "Cold Souls (2009)." So Stoked for this movie. Hope it exceeds all set expectations.

Magic wands aren't always where you expect them.

Sometimes I'm wrong. Sometimes, but not often. As of late, I've taken to admitting when my mouth runoff is in the wrong. For example, last Wednesday I thought that the water being pumped through our bathroom had a disgusting yellow tinge to it, and so I put off showering as long as possible in the hopes that clarity would return. To my surprise upon closer inspection, the water was, and always had been, clear. I stunk for no reason, but acknowledged that maybe I should have just showered in the first place (Ahem...). The fact that I didn't shower has almost nothing to do with this week's Cinema 10 showing of Les plages d'Agnès (2008), except that my apprehension toward the water in my room was about as justified as what was felt upon entering the theater.

To this humble blogger, the description provided for the film suggests a certain degree of arrogance. I expected just under two hours of self-praise, scene after scene of director Agnès Varda talking about how awesome her life is and how influential her fifty-year film career has been. On the contrary, what I found is that the film was comparable to Ray Bradbury's "Zen in the Art of Writing," which is not a how-to-write guide. Rather, it is a guide to finding the inspiration to write. And that's what "The Beaches of Agnes" is: a glimpse into the director's life and how she has used her experiences in her art. It is a two hour documentary of Varda chasing her muse. In a a scene nearing the end, she films each living member of her close family, during which she beautifully states that she doesn't know or understand them; she just goes towards them. She doesn't always comprehend her ideas, but she follows and uses them to the best of her ability, often creating something beautiful and open, allowing for a great deal of viewer interpretation.

The film was not at all what I had expected. To be perfectly honest, I wanted to hate this movie because I assumed it was pretentious. And - as is fairly consistent in the art of assumption - I was mistaken. The audience needn't any prior exposure to the director; the film stands alone as a portrait of the nine (or more) muses. It is not an attempt to pat herself on the back. If anything, Varda marginalizes her role, though her soothing French is ever-present. Rather than make an attempt to flex her movie knowledge, the fact that she had seen only ten films before making her first is presented without hesitation. What she has chased and how it has been used is the focus.

I didn't find myself caught up in the quirky stylistic choices, either. Nor am I now reflecting upon the color schemes, or wondering at the use of mirrors. Their implementation is fairly obvious, and to dwell upon them infinitely would only detract from this film's purpose. They are unconventional, certainly. But the film's not about how unconventional Agnès Varda is. It's about how important the people around her are; the shots of loved ones are the most crucial and advance the (loose) plot more than a million shots of beaches ever could.

My only gripe is the use of special effects at the end. After we learn of the death of her husband, Jacques, a few shots have particularly strange overlapping effects. A shot of her back to the audience with waves crashing over her shirt is odd and seems like something out of a PBS documentary.

Verdict: Surprisingly Stoked. The audience actually clapped after the credits. Hm. Next week: Everlasting Moments (2008). I'll try to keep an open mind before I sit down in the theater.