Black Swan
Director: Darren Aronofsky
Venue: Regal Union Square Cinema. Digital Projection
In the list of filmmakers whose work I anticipate with every project, Darren Aronofsky figures high. His debut, Pi, is a mesmerizing, powerful piece of cinema. The follow-up, Requiem for a Dream, was a truly disturbing film. But since then, Aronofosky has yet to fulfill the promise of those two films. While I admired it's ambition, The Fountain suffered from a weak central performance, too short a running time, and a pretentious tone. The Wrestler amounted to very little in my opinion, save some great Aronofosky gore and a compelling (if somewhat overrated) performance from Mickey Rourke.
It was for these reasons that I approached Black Swan with some degree of trepidation. While it looked fascinating and compelling, I couldn't help but wonder if Aronofsky was able to pull it off. I'm happy to report that he does. Aronofsky's film is overblown, ridiculous, hypnotic, one of the best films of the year, and easily his best since Pi.
Black Swan is the story of Nina Sayers (Natalie Portman), a aging but still childish ballerina with the Lincoln Center ballet. A 4-year veteran, Nina has yet to have her big moment. This opportunity presents itself when aging star Beth Macintyre (Wynona Ryder, playing wonderfully against type) is forced to leave the company by artistic director Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel, effective and unlikeable). Leroy has decided to begin the season with a 're-imagining' of the classic Swan Lake, and is looking for a dance capable of playing both the innocent white swan, and her darker counterpart black swan. In what is one of the film's funnier moments, Nina convinces Thomas she is up to the role.
But there is something going on with Nina. The skin around her shoulders is blistering. She is seeing herself everywhere, including in the company's newest dancer, Lily (Mila Kunis, doing great work), who is the opposite of Nina in every way. Her mother seems unwilling to allow her a social life, and there are mentions of self- mutilation and cutting. When all of this comes to a forefront, Nina begins to change.
Thematically and storywise, Aronofsky isn't breaking any new ground. We've seen this before, and if we know the story of Swan Lake, it's very clear where this is going. It's the approach and vision that make this film such a show stopper. Aronofsky's character's are always ones of great ambition, and they are always a reflection of him. He isn't afraid to pull out all the stops in order to achieve what he wants. This is fully on display in Swan, which is a technical masterpiece. The cinematography, sound, and production design are incredible. Every inch of this film is realized, and corresponds to Aronofsky's vision. It is one of the most vividly directed films of the year. At times, it goes too far with it's surrealistic touches and horror (in addition to being one of the best films this year, it's also one of the least subtle. It is a credit to the entire team that this lack of subtlety doesn't ruin the film), but it is this kind of balls to the wall, unhinged filmmaking that we rarely seen anymore. There are moments that take us back to the films of Bergman, and of David Lynch as well. It is an impressive achievement, technically and artistically.
None of this would be possible without good performances, and here is where we come to Natalie Portman, who absolutely owns this film (she is rarely not on screen). It is a large, expressive performance that runs across the spectrum, but is most effective in it's few quieter moments (a early on phone conversation in a bathroom stall is moving and beautiful). Able support is provided by Cassel, Kunis, and Barbara Hershey, as Nina's mother.
Black Swan is an incredible work, a film of such passion and force that occasionally it's unclear what response it wants from us, but I can't find fault with it for that. Aronofsky has absolutely pushed his ideas and vision to the limit, and it's a breathtaking thing to see.
4/4
12/4/10
6/20/10
The Killer Inside Me
The Killer Inside Me.
Director: Michael Winterbottom.
Venue: IFC Center, 323 Avenue of the Americas, New York, New York. Theater 1
Date: June 20, 2010
Few titles have been higher on my list of 'Must-Sees' in 2010 than The Killer Inside Me. Based upon the infamous 1952 book by Jim Thompson, and boasting Casey Affleck as gentleman/sociopath Lou Ford and the versatile directing talents of Brit Michael Winterbottom (A Cock and Bull Story, Welcome to Sarajevo), my hope was that this film would be the highlight of the year so far. In that regard, it disappoints, but it is not without its merits.
Killer tells the story of Lou Ford, a 29 year old deputy sheriff doing his duty in the small West Texas town of Central City. One day, Lou is told by sheriff Bob Maples (excellent character actor Tom Bower) to go put a little pressure on prostitute Joyce Lakeland (an unexpected Jessica Alba, who doesn't really have the chops for the role) to leave town. When Ford arrives, Joyce becomes irate, and hits him repeatedly. At first resisting his impulses, eventually Ford pins her, removes his belt, and begins beating her backside. Joyce likes it. What begins as violent assault results in sex.
So begins a love affair, which results in the blackmail of Joyce's former lover Elmer Conway, whose father is local (corrupt) building magnate Conway (Veteran, brilliant Ned Beatty). Eventually, Joyce ends up dead, beaten savagely by Lou, who is revealed to be a ruthless and sadistic killer. From there on, the film falls into place as a film noir, with Lou trying to cover up his crime and his mistakes until one violent act leads to another, and often for reasons which are unclear.
That's the biggest problem with Winterbottom's take on Thompson classic novel, which is admired both for it's plotting and it's development of a truly disturbed individual. The director seems to be aiming for the latter much more than the former. In his quest to create a distinctive character in Lou, Winterbottom has lost command of his narrative. Events fly by without fitting into a comprehensible package. Characters appear and reappear, and their motives don't become clear (this is particularly true of Elias Koteas' turn as Joe Rothman - a fine performance, but the character's reasons for being in the film are woefully unclear until too much late). The narrative whizzes along, but the scenes themselves often feel long and languid, which creates a vacuum within the film. Winterbottom doesn't seem too concerned with building any tension or suspense, and the film's climatic scenes thus have little to no weight. It feels as though he hoped the story could take care of itself, while he and Affleck could create a monster.
And what a monster they've created. Affleck, so good in The Assassination of Jesse James..., builds upon his work on that film and has created something incredible here. His Lou Ford is a mesmerizing piece of acting. He creates a character that, to the film's audience, is terrifying, puzzling, and simultaneously naive and knowing - he's dangerous. However, to those around him ignorant to his true nature, Ford comes across as well-meaning, gentlemanly, and helpful. It's astounding.
So is the production. The 35mm cinematography is beautiful and crisp, and the production design is authentic to a fault. This IS Texas in 1958, no question. Everything, from image to sound to dialects, is top notch.
It should be noted that Killer contains extreme violence, particularly in an early sequence when Lou beats Joyce to death. Winterbottom has not spared his audience at all, and the effect is excruciating and horrible. We see, hear, and feel every blow. At times it feels questionable, but it is also something that sets the film apart from other films which deal with violence. Here, it doesn't feel like a cheap thrill, but rather an extension of a sick man's psyche. Likewise, the connection between sex and violence plays an important role in Killer, and, to Winterbottom's credit, he manages to make the (fairly violent) sex both arousing and troubling. It's rare to see that contradiction played out on screen, but it's done so effectively here.
In the end, Killer is a much more viscerally effective film and portrait than it is a thriller. It's sights and sounds are alluring and disturbing, while it's story suffers. Winterbottom is more interested in the world that these characters inhabit than he is the things that drive them, which makes for a unique, if flawed, experience.
3/5
Director: Michael Winterbottom.
Venue: IFC Center, 323 Avenue of the Americas, New York, New York. Theater 1
Date: June 20, 2010
Few titles have been higher on my list of 'Must-Sees' in 2010 than The Killer Inside Me. Based upon the infamous 1952 book by Jim Thompson, and boasting Casey Affleck as gentleman/sociopath Lou Ford and the versatile directing talents of Brit Michael Winterbottom (A Cock and Bull Story, Welcome to Sarajevo), my hope was that this film would be the highlight of the year so far. In that regard, it disappoints, but it is not without its merits.
Killer tells the story of Lou Ford, a 29 year old deputy sheriff doing his duty in the small West Texas town of Central City. One day, Lou is told by sheriff Bob Maples (excellent character actor Tom Bower) to go put a little pressure on prostitute Joyce Lakeland (an unexpected Jessica Alba, who doesn't really have the chops for the role) to leave town. When Ford arrives, Joyce becomes irate, and hits him repeatedly. At first resisting his impulses, eventually Ford pins her, removes his belt, and begins beating her backside. Joyce likes it. What begins as violent assault results in sex.
So begins a love affair, which results in the blackmail of Joyce's former lover Elmer Conway, whose father is local (corrupt) building magnate Conway (Veteran, brilliant Ned Beatty). Eventually, Joyce ends up dead, beaten savagely by Lou, who is revealed to be a ruthless and sadistic killer. From there on, the film falls into place as a film noir, with Lou trying to cover up his crime and his mistakes until one violent act leads to another, and often for reasons which are unclear.
That's the biggest problem with Winterbottom's take on Thompson classic novel, which is admired both for it's plotting and it's development of a truly disturbed individual. The director seems to be aiming for the latter much more than the former. In his quest to create a distinctive character in Lou, Winterbottom has lost command of his narrative. Events fly by without fitting into a comprehensible package. Characters appear and reappear, and their motives don't become clear (this is particularly true of Elias Koteas' turn as Joe Rothman - a fine performance, but the character's reasons for being in the film are woefully unclear until too much late). The narrative whizzes along, but the scenes themselves often feel long and languid, which creates a vacuum within the film. Winterbottom doesn't seem too concerned with building any tension or suspense, and the film's climatic scenes thus have little to no weight. It feels as though he hoped the story could take care of itself, while he and Affleck could create a monster.
And what a monster they've created. Affleck, so good in The Assassination of Jesse James..., builds upon his work on that film and has created something incredible here. His Lou Ford is a mesmerizing piece of acting. He creates a character that, to the film's audience, is terrifying, puzzling, and simultaneously naive and knowing - he's dangerous. However, to those around him ignorant to his true nature, Ford comes across as well-meaning, gentlemanly, and helpful. It's astounding.
So is the production. The 35mm cinematography is beautiful and crisp, and the production design is authentic to a fault. This IS Texas in 1958, no question. Everything, from image to sound to dialects, is top notch.
It should be noted that Killer contains extreme violence, particularly in an early sequence when Lou beats Joyce to death. Winterbottom has not spared his audience at all, and the effect is excruciating and horrible. We see, hear, and feel every blow. At times it feels questionable, but it is also something that sets the film apart from other films which deal with violence. Here, it doesn't feel like a cheap thrill, but rather an extension of a sick man's psyche. Likewise, the connection between sex and violence plays an important role in Killer, and, to Winterbottom's credit, he manages to make the (fairly violent) sex both arousing and troubling. It's rare to see that contradiction played out on screen, but it's done so effectively here.
In the end, Killer is a much more viscerally effective film and portrait than it is a thriller. It's sights and sounds are alluring and disturbing, while it's story suffers. Winterbottom is more interested in the world that these characters inhabit than he is the things that drive them, which makes for a unique, if flawed, experience.
3/5
3/5/10
Shutter Island
Shutter Island
Director: Martin Scorsese
Venue: AMC 34 Street
Review Date: March 5, 2010
Martin Scorsese was, arguably, the greatest filmmaker America had ever produced until the early nineties when Goodfellas arrived. While a great movie, it lacked the fiercely personal point of view that has defined Scorsese's best work (After Hours, Taxi Driver, Mean Streets). Since losing the Oscar that year to the far less deserving Dances With Wolves, he has increasingly made highly conventional, albeit technically accomplished, films. Finally, in 2006, Scorsese was awarded the best director for The Departed, a high energy, substance less riff on the Hong Kong film Infernal Affairs. It was the least personal film Scorsese had ever made. Now, he's back with Shutter Island, another Boston set thriller filled with technical mastery, occasionally dazzling sequences, and only slightly higher level of resonance than The Departed.
The films opens on the deepest fog seen since Hitchcock made thrillers in the 50s and 60s. (Appropriate, as Scorsese spends about 75% of the film's run time paying homage to films better than this). From this fog emerges a boat pulling out of Boston harbor. On board are state troopers Teddy Daniels (Leonardo DiCaprio) and his new partner Chuck Aule (a woefully miscast Mark Ruffalo. It's hard to see such a talented actor doing work that just wasn't meant for him). Both are veterans of World War II, and both show it in their every mannerism, Daniels in particular. Tragedy, both large and small, has informed this man's life, and his permanent scowl and temper make it clear he hasn't quite gotten past it. The two are headed for Shutter Island, which houses a new age treatment center for the disturbed and criminally insane, in search of escaped patient Rachel Solando. The facility, run by the sinister Dr. Cawley (Ben Kingsley) and Dr. Naehring (Max Von Sydow, in a inspired bit of casting - he's fantastic, despite his limited screen time). Cawley's philosophy on the treatment of the mentally ill is decidedly modern for the time, but Naehring's slight German accent instantly makes Daniels suspicious.
As Daniels and Aule begin their investigation, and the pounding storm heading for the island grows stronger, they quickly begin to sense that everything is not as it seems on Shutter Island. How did Solando escape from a room with one exit and a barred window? What kind of experiments are being conducted at the hospital, and what is happening in Ward C?
Shutter Island's biggest weakness may be Scorsese and Co's inability, or perhaps unwillingness, to push beyond genre. The character of Teddy Daniels is by far the most interesting protagonist Scorsese has attempted to create in a long time, but DiCaprio is not up to snuff. Daniels has an everyman quality that DiCaprio does not. He is too technical and self-aware to create an all encompassing character. We are too aware of DiCaprio the actor. The decision to make Daniels a World War II veteran is one of the best elements taken from 50's noir, as World War II had a definitive role in the creation of the noir genre. These characters are meant to represent the disillusionment of the era, which, if explored further, could have been a great thematic element to the film. Likewise, the constant reference to Daniels as a 'man of violence' is something Scorsese has explored beautifully in the past, and could have done so here, especially in the context of noir. Unfortunately, Scorsese and screenwriter Laeta Kalogridis chooses instead to prolong the inevitable, albeit obvious, 'stunning' conclusion with cliche twists and turns. For those paying attention, the ending of the film becomes fairly clear about 90 minutes in. As a result, the film suffers from a lack of suspense, and only an occasional jump (a scene taking place at a graveyard during the storm is particularly effective). Scorsese comes close to an exploration of psyche, but drops it in favor of a dot connecting story. It's disappointing to say the least.
That isn't to say the film is a complete waste.It is, as expected, a technical knockout. The cinematography by Robert Richardson (whose work on Inglourious Basterds was probably the most beautiful lens work of last year) is exquisite, and filled with flourishes that enhance the many moods and feelings the film is meant to evoke. Dante Ferritti's production design is dead-on. Everything about the film visually and aurally is masterful. Additionally, there are some show-stopping set pieces. The one-shot execution of several soldiers is downright eerie, and an early flashback featuring Daniel's mysterious wife (Michelle Williams, given little to do) really sticks. Likewise, the film's concluding moments has an emotional heft that nearly achieves greatness, had it not been for the plodding and cliche story leading up to it. There are images here that will stick in your mind. Unfortunately, the film itself won't.
Some of the greatest filmmakers of all time have been exceptional at genre work. Scorsese's powers of deep expressionism, questionable protagonists, and powerful treatment of violence should have put him on this list. Unfortunately, he gets so caught up in creating atmosphere that he loses his hold on the characters, themes, and story. The film is, at best, a pastiche of better films. It has very little to call it's own, which is a great disappointment for it's maker after a career spent defining American cinema.
2.5/5
Director: Martin Scorsese
Venue: AMC 34 Street
Review Date: March 5, 2010
Martin Scorsese was, arguably, the greatest filmmaker America had ever produced until the early nineties when Goodfellas arrived. While a great movie, it lacked the fiercely personal point of view that has defined Scorsese's best work (After Hours, Taxi Driver, Mean Streets). Since losing the Oscar that year to the far less deserving Dances With Wolves, he has increasingly made highly conventional, albeit technically accomplished, films. Finally, in 2006, Scorsese was awarded the best director for The Departed, a high energy, substance less riff on the Hong Kong film Infernal Affairs. It was the least personal film Scorsese had ever made. Now, he's back with Shutter Island, another Boston set thriller filled with technical mastery, occasionally dazzling sequences, and only slightly higher level of resonance than The Departed.
The films opens on the deepest fog seen since Hitchcock made thrillers in the 50s and 60s. (Appropriate, as Scorsese spends about 75% of the film's run time paying homage to films better than this). From this fog emerges a boat pulling out of Boston harbor. On board are state troopers Teddy Daniels (Leonardo DiCaprio) and his new partner Chuck Aule (a woefully miscast Mark Ruffalo. It's hard to see such a talented actor doing work that just wasn't meant for him). Both are veterans of World War II, and both show it in their every mannerism, Daniels in particular. Tragedy, both large and small, has informed this man's life, and his permanent scowl and temper make it clear he hasn't quite gotten past it. The two are headed for Shutter Island, which houses a new age treatment center for the disturbed and criminally insane, in search of escaped patient Rachel Solando. The facility, run by the sinister Dr. Cawley (Ben Kingsley) and Dr. Naehring (Max Von Sydow, in a inspired bit of casting - he's fantastic, despite his limited screen time). Cawley's philosophy on the treatment of the mentally ill is decidedly modern for the time, but Naehring's slight German accent instantly makes Daniels suspicious.
As Daniels and Aule begin their investigation, and the pounding storm heading for the island grows stronger, they quickly begin to sense that everything is not as it seems on Shutter Island. How did Solando escape from a room with one exit and a barred window? What kind of experiments are being conducted at the hospital, and what is happening in Ward C?
Shutter Island's biggest weakness may be Scorsese and Co's inability, or perhaps unwillingness, to push beyond genre. The character of Teddy Daniels is by far the most interesting protagonist Scorsese has attempted to create in a long time, but DiCaprio is not up to snuff. Daniels has an everyman quality that DiCaprio does not. He is too technical and self-aware to create an all encompassing character. We are too aware of DiCaprio the actor. The decision to make Daniels a World War II veteran is one of the best elements taken from 50's noir, as World War II had a definitive role in the creation of the noir genre. These characters are meant to represent the disillusionment of the era, which, if explored further, could have been a great thematic element to the film. Likewise, the constant reference to Daniels as a 'man of violence' is something Scorsese has explored beautifully in the past, and could have done so here, especially in the context of noir. Unfortunately, Scorsese and screenwriter Laeta Kalogridis chooses instead to prolong the inevitable, albeit obvious, 'stunning' conclusion with cliche twists and turns. For those paying attention, the ending of the film becomes fairly clear about 90 minutes in. As a result, the film suffers from a lack of suspense, and only an occasional jump (a scene taking place at a graveyard during the storm is particularly effective). Scorsese comes close to an exploration of psyche, but drops it in favor of a dot connecting story. It's disappointing to say the least.
That isn't to say the film is a complete waste.It is, as expected, a technical knockout. The cinematography by Robert Richardson (whose work on Inglourious Basterds was probably the most beautiful lens work of last year) is exquisite, and filled with flourishes that enhance the many moods and feelings the film is meant to evoke. Dante Ferritti's production design is dead-on. Everything about the film visually and aurally is masterful. Additionally, there are some show-stopping set pieces. The one-shot execution of several soldiers is downright eerie, and an early flashback featuring Daniel's mysterious wife (Michelle Williams, given little to do) really sticks. Likewise, the film's concluding moments has an emotional heft that nearly achieves greatness, had it not been for the plodding and cliche story leading up to it. There are images here that will stick in your mind. Unfortunately, the film itself won't.
Some of the greatest filmmakers of all time have been exceptional at genre work. Scorsese's powers of deep expressionism, questionable protagonists, and powerful treatment of violence should have put him on this list. Unfortunately, he gets so caught up in creating atmosphere that he loses his hold on the characters, themes, and story. The film is, at best, a pastiche of better films. It has very little to call it's own, which is a great disappointment for it's maker after a career spent defining American cinema.
2.5/5
10/6/09
A Serious Man
A Serious Man
Directors: Joel and Ethan Coen
Venue: Landmark Sunshine Cinema, Theater 1
Review Date: October 3rd, 2009
I have always had a love-hate relationship with the Coen Brothers. I loved Oh, Brother, Where art thou?, The Man Who Wasn't There, and Fargo. The Big Lebowski and No Country For Old Men did very little for me. I hated Burn After Reading. I admit an ignorance to their early work, but I have a deep admiration for Coen Brothers. They are brilliant craftsman, and regardless of content, their films are extremely well composed. A Serious Man is no exception, in content nor in craft.
A Serious Man takes place over a series of weeks in a small Minnesota town in 1967. It details the collapse of the life of Larry Gopnik (played by theatre actor Michael Stuhlbarg, whom I was lucky enough to see play Hamlet last year in the Public Theatre's stunning production). Gopnik is a University Physics professor, a Jew, and a man who seems to never be aware of what is happening around him. His son is a pot-smoking, F-Troop-watching slacker quickly approaching his bar mitzvah. His daughter is stealing money from his wallet to fund a nose job. His constantly pouting wife(Sari Lennick, another unknown) is having an affair with serious man Sy Abelman, and his umemployed, couch-borrowing brother is constantly draining the cyst on his neck. When his tenure is threatened by blackmail, and his wife asks him for a divorce, things really start to unravel for Larry.
Sounds simple enough, but the Coen Brothers are masters of plot and irony, and they manage to bring all these elements together gracefully, hilariously, and painfully. They have written their own Job story; how much abuse can a religious man who strives only to be good take before he loses it? That's what is explored here through breathtaking cinematography (The incomparable Roger Deakins), wonderful pacing, tight performances, and strong music choices. The Coens make every shot count, and there are layers and layers to reflect upon. Take the school bully chasing down Larry's son for weed money every day after school. At first, this image plays as comedy, another moment of relief in a very dark (albeit funny) affair. But look closer, stick through to the end, and the image has an indescribable pathos that only lodges itself in your brain upon reflection. Images from the film keep coming back to me. As usual with the Coens, there's a lot of ambiguity here, and they exploit it for everything it is worth.
The technical work is magnificent, but the acting more than equals it. Stuhlbarg has somewhat of a one-note character here, but the variety and commitment which he brings to is magnificent. Richard King, as Larry's brother Arthur, brings a sadness to his usual goofy and irritating persona. Fred Melamed does comedic masterwork as the adulterer Abelman. The supporting work is a wonder; we get a sense of community and down home provincialism. It's a wonderfully constructed world.
With A Serious Man, the Coen Brothers have delivered a film that is equal to their best work. It is both hilarious and tragic, and should be remembered in the winter awards season.
4.5/5
Directors: Joel and Ethan Coen
Venue: Landmark Sunshine Cinema, Theater 1
Review Date: October 3rd, 2009
I have always had a love-hate relationship with the Coen Brothers. I loved Oh, Brother, Where art thou?, The Man Who Wasn't There, and Fargo. The Big Lebowski and No Country For Old Men did very little for me. I hated Burn After Reading. I admit an ignorance to their early work, but I have a deep admiration for Coen Brothers. They are brilliant craftsman, and regardless of content, their films are extremely well composed. A Serious Man is no exception, in content nor in craft.
A Serious Man takes place over a series of weeks in a small Minnesota town in 1967. It details the collapse of the life of Larry Gopnik (played by theatre actor Michael Stuhlbarg, whom I was lucky enough to see play Hamlet last year in the Public Theatre's stunning production). Gopnik is a University Physics professor, a Jew, and a man who seems to never be aware of what is happening around him. His son is a pot-smoking, F-Troop-watching slacker quickly approaching his bar mitzvah. His daughter is stealing money from his wallet to fund a nose job. His constantly pouting wife(Sari Lennick, another unknown) is having an affair with serious man Sy Abelman, and his umemployed, couch-borrowing brother is constantly draining the cyst on his neck. When his tenure is threatened by blackmail, and his wife asks him for a divorce, things really start to unravel for Larry.
Sounds simple enough, but the Coen Brothers are masters of plot and irony, and they manage to bring all these elements together gracefully, hilariously, and painfully. They have written their own Job story; how much abuse can a religious man who strives only to be good take before he loses it? That's what is explored here through breathtaking cinematography (The incomparable Roger Deakins), wonderful pacing, tight performances, and strong music choices. The Coens make every shot count, and there are layers and layers to reflect upon. Take the school bully chasing down Larry's son for weed money every day after school. At first, this image plays as comedy, another moment of relief in a very dark (albeit funny) affair. But look closer, stick through to the end, and the image has an indescribable pathos that only lodges itself in your brain upon reflection. Images from the film keep coming back to me. As usual with the Coens, there's a lot of ambiguity here, and they exploit it for everything it is worth.
The technical work is magnificent, but the acting more than equals it. Stuhlbarg has somewhat of a one-note character here, but the variety and commitment which he brings to is magnificent. Richard King, as Larry's brother Arthur, brings a sadness to his usual goofy and irritating persona. Fred Melamed does comedic masterwork as the adulterer Abelman. The supporting work is a wonder; we get a sense of community and down home provincialism. It's a wonderfully constructed world.
With A Serious Man, the Coen Brothers have delivered a film that is equal to their best work. It is both hilarious and tragic, and should be remembered in the winter awards season.
4.5/5
10/3/09
NYFF:Antichrist
Antichrist
Director: Lars Von Trier
Venue: Starr Theater, Alice Tully Hall, Lincoln Center
(New York Film Festival '09)
Review date: October 2nd, 2009
Before I offer my feelings on Antichrist, I should speak of my reverence for director Lars Von Trier. Von Trier, a Dane, stands as my favorite filmmaker and a huge influence. Dogville, Breaking The Waves, and The Idiots are masterworks. Dancer in the Dark, Manderlay, and The Boss of It All stand slightly below, but are still wonderful motion pictures.
Throughout his work Lars Von Trier has continually made films about men and women. Each of his films include a key relationship involving a man and a woman. More often than not, the woman is an idealist and the man has lost (or never had) his ideals. He has explored these relationships through Greek theatre (Medea), musicals (Dancer in The Dark), melodrama (Dogville, Manderlay) and comedy (The Idiots, The Boss of It All).
Now he has turned to horror for his latest work. Born out of a self-admitted depression, Von Trier's Antichrist bears all the marks of a Von Trier film (beautiful composition mixed with jerky handheld work, density of idea, extreme emotion), but it is by far his purest, most simple film yet. He has paired his theme of man vs. woman down to a story of a couple (literally called He and She), and the process of recovery after their son's death. She (Charlotte Gainsbourg) has become irrational and depressed, and He (Willem Dafoe), an educated and self-assured psychologist, decides that She needs to face her fear. He asks her where she is most scared, and she replies Eden, a forest in which the couple own a cabin (the location of Eden is never clearly established; we are led to believe, based on an envelope, that we are somewhere near Seattle, WA). Once there, He tries to help She face her fear, which leads to chaos, fear, and, ultimately, violence.
It's hard to describe Antichrist in a way that would do justice to the experience of seeing this film; simply put, it is the most harrowing experiences I have ever had in the cinema. The imagery, sound, and extreme violence create a tension that never lets up. At times, I felt myself chuckling, yet there is nothing truly funny about this film (Von Trier has a great sense of humor, and the movie has some laughs, however trying and unclear). I dreaded every second of tension as the film built to its climax. When it concluded, I felt lighter, thrilled, and purged. It was a cathartic experience.
Antichrist's complexity of theme and emotion at times threaten to swallow up the work, yet never do thanks to the precise work of the production team(The sound design is staggering; Anthony Dod Mantle's camera work is, as always, stunning) and the incredible performance of Charlotte Gainsbourg. It is a fearless, moving, and challenging portrait of a woman in grief whose behavior becomes terrifying and incomprehensible. It is an incredible screen performance, and should be remembered come award season. Equal credit must be given to Willem Dafoe for his equally powerful work in a somewhat thankless role.
Yet what this film, and all his films, really boils down to is Von Trier. He is an imaginative and provocative writer-director, and, with this film, he has once again proved his fearlessness. It is brazenly noncommercial, complex (a later blog entry may be devoted to the film's thematic content. It is far too large to be discussed here.), visceral, and challenging. Does everything about the film work? No. There is occasionally clunky dialogue and the film requires a second viewing to digest it's ideas and imagery. The tonal shifts are incredibly strong and hard to take, but ultimately part of what makes the experience so rewarding and cathartic. It is, without a doubt, a milestone in adult oriented cinema and probably Von Trier's most important film.
5/5
Director: Lars Von Trier
Venue: Starr Theater, Alice Tully Hall, Lincoln Center
(New York Film Festival '09)
Review date: October 2nd, 2009
Before I offer my feelings on Antichrist, I should speak of my reverence for director Lars Von Trier. Von Trier, a Dane, stands as my favorite filmmaker and a huge influence. Dogville, Breaking The Waves, and The Idiots are masterworks. Dancer in the Dark, Manderlay, and The Boss of It All stand slightly below, but are still wonderful motion pictures.
Throughout his work Lars Von Trier has continually made films about men and women. Each of his films include a key relationship involving a man and a woman. More often than not, the woman is an idealist and the man has lost (or never had) his ideals. He has explored these relationships through Greek theatre (Medea), musicals (Dancer in The Dark), melodrama (Dogville, Manderlay) and comedy (The Idiots, The Boss of It All).
Now he has turned to horror for his latest work. Born out of a self-admitted depression, Von Trier's Antichrist bears all the marks of a Von Trier film (beautiful composition mixed with jerky handheld work, density of idea, extreme emotion), but it is by far his purest, most simple film yet. He has paired his theme of man vs. woman down to a story of a couple (literally called He and She), and the process of recovery after their son's death. She (Charlotte Gainsbourg) has become irrational and depressed, and He (Willem Dafoe), an educated and self-assured psychologist, decides that She needs to face her fear. He asks her where she is most scared, and she replies Eden, a forest in which the couple own a cabin (the location of Eden is never clearly established; we are led to believe, based on an envelope, that we are somewhere near Seattle, WA). Once there, He tries to help She face her fear, which leads to chaos, fear, and, ultimately, violence.
It's hard to describe Antichrist in a way that would do justice to the experience of seeing this film; simply put, it is the most harrowing experiences I have ever had in the cinema. The imagery, sound, and extreme violence create a tension that never lets up. At times, I felt myself chuckling, yet there is nothing truly funny about this film (Von Trier has a great sense of humor, and the movie has some laughs, however trying and unclear). I dreaded every second of tension as the film built to its climax. When it concluded, I felt lighter, thrilled, and purged. It was a cathartic experience.
Antichrist's complexity of theme and emotion at times threaten to swallow up the work, yet never do thanks to the precise work of the production team(The sound design is staggering; Anthony Dod Mantle's camera work is, as always, stunning) and the incredible performance of Charlotte Gainsbourg. It is a fearless, moving, and challenging portrait of a woman in grief whose behavior becomes terrifying and incomprehensible. It is an incredible screen performance, and should be remembered come award season. Equal credit must be given to Willem Dafoe for his equally powerful work in a somewhat thankless role.
Yet what this film, and all his films, really boils down to is Von Trier. He is an imaginative and provocative writer-director, and, with this film, he has once again proved his fearlessness. It is brazenly noncommercial, complex (a later blog entry may be devoted to the film's thematic content. It is far too large to be discussed here.), visceral, and challenging. Does everything about the film work? No. There is occasionally clunky dialogue and the film requires a second viewing to digest it's ideas and imagery. The tonal shifts are incredibly strong and hard to take, but ultimately part of what makes the experience so rewarding and cathartic. It is, without a doubt, a milestone in adult oriented cinema and probably Von Trier's most important film.
5/5
10/1/09
Classic Review: The Steamroller and the Violin.
Katok i skripka
The Steamroller and the Violin
(1960)
Director: Andrei Tarkovsky
Andrei Tarkovsky is a not a well known filmmaker in the U.S., outside of those with a keen interest in cinema. His most famous feature is probably Solaris (1972), due to the fact that it was recently remade by Steven Soderberg and George Clooney.
On the international scene, however, Tarkovsky is a legend. His films are provocative, deeply spiritual, and beautiful. They are also notorious for being slow moving, occasionally inert, and challenging in their intellectualism.
I have struggled my way through much of Tarkovsky's Andrei Rublev and Stalker before, mostly unsuccessfully, and so I have decided to watch his films in chronological order to try and find a new way to appreciate them.
I've begun with Steamroller and the Violin, a mosfilm production that Tarkovsky made in 1960 as his diploma film. It is a student film, and this is often evident from the level of production. However, it is a wonderful film, and very indicative of where Tarkovsky would go in the future.
Steamroller and the Violin details one day in the life of Sasha, a seven year old musician. Sasha plays the violin, and it is his goal in life (pushed by his mother) to become a professional violinist. It is clear, however, that Sasha has other aspirations, and these include daydreaming and wandering (a beautiful kaleidoscopic early in the film shows us his imagination in full blossom). When leaving the house one morning, he is harassed by several of the local boys who spitefully call him 'musician.' He is saved by Sergei, a local worker who operates the steamroller that is doing construction outside the block of flats where Sasha lives. From this early interaction, the two strike up a friendship which the film details in simple, lyrical, and wistful ways.
Tarkovsky's work is often comprised of long, colorful, and dreamily shots heavy with atmosphere and symbolism. Steamroller and the violin is no exception. It is beautifully and meaningfully composed, and many seemingly mundane objects completely steal your attention throughout. He uses his simple story as a springboard for a deeper exploration of the things we are lacking in our lives, and the strangeness of our daily existence.
Of course, being a student film, there are aspects of the production that feel amateurish. There are editing guffaws and odd sound problems, but the film doesn't feel dated, and, at 43 minutes, is not one of Tarkovsky's more challenging efforts.
Tarkovsky was a great filmmaker; his films feel like a dream, and Steamroller and the Violin showed him off to a great start. Highly recommended. The film is available on Netflix.
4/5
Next up: Ivan's Childhood.
The Steamroller and the Violin
(1960)
Director: Andrei Tarkovsky
Andrei Tarkovsky is a not a well known filmmaker in the U.S., outside of those with a keen interest in cinema. His most famous feature is probably Solaris (1972), due to the fact that it was recently remade by Steven Soderberg and George Clooney.
On the international scene, however, Tarkovsky is a legend. His films are provocative, deeply spiritual, and beautiful. They are also notorious for being slow moving, occasionally inert, and challenging in their intellectualism.
I have struggled my way through much of Tarkovsky's Andrei Rublev and Stalker before, mostly unsuccessfully, and so I have decided to watch his films in chronological order to try and find a new way to appreciate them.
I've begun with Steamroller and the Violin, a mosfilm production that Tarkovsky made in 1960 as his diploma film. It is a student film, and this is often evident from the level of production. However, it is a wonderful film, and very indicative of where Tarkovsky would go in the future.
Steamroller and the Violin details one day in the life of Sasha, a seven year old musician. Sasha plays the violin, and it is his goal in life (pushed by his mother) to become a professional violinist. It is clear, however, that Sasha has other aspirations, and these include daydreaming and wandering (a beautiful kaleidoscopic early in the film shows us his imagination in full blossom). When leaving the house one morning, he is harassed by several of the local boys who spitefully call him 'musician.' He is saved by Sergei, a local worker who operates the steamroller that is doing construction outside the block of flats where Sasha lives. From this early interaction, the two strike up a friendship which the film details in simple, lyrical, and wistful ways.
Tarkovsky's work is often comprised of long, colorful, and dreamily shots heavy with atmosphere and symbolism. Steamroller and the violin is no exception. It is beautifully and meaningfully composed, and many seemingly mundane objects completely steal your attention throughout. He uses his simple story as a springboard for a deeper exploration of the things we are lacking in our lives, and the strangeness of our daily existence.
Of course, being a student film, there are aspects of the production that feel amateurish. There are editing guffaws and odd sound problems, but the film doesn't feel dated, and, at 43 minutes, is not one of Tarkovsky's more challenging efforts.
Tarkovsky was a great filmmaker; his films feel like a dream, and Steamroller and the Violin showed him off to a great start. Highly recommended. The film is available on Netflix.
4/5
Next up: Ivan's Childhood.
9/5/09
District 9
District 9
Director: Neil Blomkamp.
District 9 has arrived as one of the most anticipated films of the summer, and it's not too hard to see why. It offers an intriguing premise, stunning (and thrillingly real) visual effects, and a very mysterious advertising campaign. The film delivers on many levels, but it is far from the 'masterpiece' that's been hyped for months.
20 years ago, a mysterious spaceship appeared over Johannesburg, South Africa. After three months of no contact from the inhabitants of the ship, the humans on the ground decided to force their way on board. What they found was a group of aliens living in squalor and filth. It was decided by the powers-that-be that the best option would be relocate the aliens to camps on the ground.
Flash forward 20 years. The aliens are once again living in squalor and filth in a slum called District 9. It has been decided that something needs to be done to remedy this situation. Enter MNU (Multi-National United), a corporation that has built District 10, a new facility in which to house the alien race, now nicknamed 'Prawns.'
Leading this operation is Wikus Van De Merme, an attention loving bureaucrat clearly in love with the camera following him around.
The first half of the film details MNU's attempt, led by Wikus, to force the prawns out of District 9, and this sequence is astonishing. It's very clear from the potency of images (District 9 calls to mind images as far reaching as the camps in Schindler's List to the ragged images of Sao Paolo in City of God) and immediacy of the camerawork that Blomkamp is not giving us the average science fiction film. He's engaging us politically, socially, and emotionally. The ineffectiveness and arrogance of the MNU agents is hilarious, and Sharlto Copley's performance as Wikus is top notch (credit must be given to Copley for turning a seemingly simple character into much more).
The tension in this sequence builds until an inevitable confrontation between Wikus' team and a group of aliens, who are trying to hide a mysterious liquid whose purpose is unknown. The liquid causes Wikus to develop alien features, and so he becomes a fugitive.
This sequence, as well as the brief sequence where Wikus is forced to use his new abilities to demonstrate alien weaponry, are absolutely brilliant. Science fiction at it's allegorical best. However, once Wikus escapes and is on the run, the film loses not only it's momentum, but also it's political engagement, it's unique perspective (the documentary style disappears, which is an utter mistake and a huge inconsistency in what has been previous established cinematically), and most of it's originality.
From this point on, District 9 becomes essentially a chase film, with several protracted (and mostly unexciting) set pieces which don't really build to anything. It is interesting to see the desperation of Wikus has he tries to get his life back, and Copley absolutely nails it, but in the end it feels empty. This performance deserves a better film, and a better conclusion.
Overall, District 9 is a disappointment. What begins as social thriller on par with The Constant Gardener devolves quickly into a run of the mill action film. However, Blomkamp is a gifted director, and will be worth watching in the future.
2.5/5
Director: Neil Blomkamp.
District 9 has arrived as one of the most anticipated films of the summer, and it's not too hard to see why. It offers an intriguing premise, stunning (and thrillingly real) visual effects, and a very mysterious advertising campaign. The film delivers on many levels, but it is far from the 'masterpiece' that's been hyped for months.
20 years ago, a mysterious spaceship appeared over Johannesburg, South Africa. After three months of no contact from the inhabitants of the ship, the humans on the ground decided to force their way on board. What they found was a group of aliens living in squalor and filth. It was decided by the powers-that-be that the best option would be relocate the aliens to camps on the ground.
Flash forward 20 years. The aliens are once again living in squalor and filth in a slum called District 9. It has been decided that something needs to be done to remedy this situation. Enter MNU (Multi-National United), a corporation that has built District 10, a new facility in which to house the alien race, now nicknamed 'Prawns.'
Leading this operation is Wikus Van De Merme, an attention loving bureaucrat clearly in love with the camera following him around.
The first half of the film details MNU's attempt, led by Wikus, to force the prawns out of District 9, and this sequence is astonishing. It's very clear from the potency of images (District 9 calls to mind images as far reaching as the camps in Schindler's List to the ragged images of Sao Paolo in City of God) and immediacy of the camerawork that Blomkamp is not giving us the average science fiction film. He's engaging us politically, socially, and emotionally. The ineffectiveness and arrogance of the MNU agents is hilarious, and Sharlto Copley's performance as Wikus is top notch (credit must be given to Copley for turning a seemingly simple character into much more).
The tension in this sequence builds until an inevitable confrontation between Wikus' team and a group of aliens, who are trying to hide a mysterious liquid whose purpose is unknown. The liquid causes Wikus to develop alien features, and so he becomes a fugitive.
This sequence, as well as the brief sequence where Wikus is forced to use his new abilities to demonstrate alien weaponry, are absolutely brilliant. Science fiction at it's allegorical best. However, once Wikus escapes and is on the run, the film loses not only it's momentum, but also it's political engagement, it's unique perspective (the documentary style disappears, which is an utter mistake and a huge inconsistency in what has been previous established cinematically), and most of it's originality.
From this point on, District 9 becomes essentially a chase film, with several protracted (and mostly unexciting) set pieces which don't really build to anything. It is interesting to see the desperation of Wikus has he tries to get his life back, and Copley absolutely nails it, but in the end it feels empty. This performance deserves a better film, and a better conclusion.
Overall, District 9 is a disappointment. What begins as social thriller on par with The Constant Gardener devolves quickly into a run of the mill action film. However, Blomkamp is a gifted director, and will be worth watching in the future.
2.5/5
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