February 14, 2009
Some new ways of considering the Oscars
1. (fact) The way that Oscar voting works is convoluted, but surprisingly democratic. Everyone's vote counts (as evidenced by a 1967 tie for Best Actress between Barbra Streisand and Katharine Hepburn). Initially, all the voters in a certain category compile a ranked list of their top five choices for nominees. They can write in anyone. When you consider that in Grammy voting, the organization can overrule the popular vote, the Oscars suddenly seem like the voice of the people. Then it gets into a lot of math I don't understand. But here's an important factor that I think somewhat lessens the democracy: a person or film cannot be nominated if it isn't at least one person's first choice.
What?
So if every single person voting for Best Picture put The Dark Knight as their #2 choice, it would not be nominated, but if a healthy smattering of people put The Reader in the lower ranks of their lists but ONE PERSON put it at #1, it would be nominated. I kind of see what they're going for with that rule, but not really. If my number 2 choice ended up on the final ballot but my number 1 choice didn't, I'd still feel pretty good about voting for #2.
Bottom line: it's easy to blame the Academy for a snub, as if they got in a room and conspired all night, but it's really the decision of thousands of people who may not even know each other. Plus, there's a stupid rule involved.
2. (opinion) Allow me to propose a theory I have that might explain some surprising nominees or winners.
Elements (be it actors or cinematography) from mediocre films stand out more than elements from uniformly solid films.
Only two Best Actress winners of the last 10 years have been from the film that won Best Picture, and only three Best Actor winners. Think of performances like Helen Mirren for The Queen, Forest Whitaker for The Last King of Scotland, Jaime Foxx for Ray, Charlize Theron for Monster, Philip Seymour Hoffman for Capote. The movies themselves were okay, but they were really performance vehicles. The performances stood out because the rest of the elements were eh.
I think maybe being too solid can hurt a film. Look at Zodiac. Incredible cinematography, flawless special effects, inspired directing, great performances, great script. Too perfect. Nothing stood out. There were no weak links that would emphasize the strong parts. This may also have been why Revolutionary Road was almost completely ignored (save for a Best Supporting Actor nom). Doubt did get a lot of nominations, but isn't really predicted to win any. That movie is so rock solid from top to bottom that if you gave it one award, you'd have to give it all of them.
Think of it this way. If you walk out of a film and can't immediately put a finger on what you liked best about it, it may not jump into a voter's head when they're assembling the best five whatever of the year. If an Academy member walks out of The Wrestler and his first thought is "Mickey Rourke was amazing!" then he's probably going to conjure up Rourke when he's voting. If he walks out of Revolutionary Road and thinks "That movie was amazing!" he's less likely to think of Leonardo DiCaprio when he's voting. (As an aside, I think the people behind the marketing of The Wrestler shot themselves in the foot by promoting it solely as a performance vehicle - it's completely solid in all areas.)
What do you think?
Movie theater verbal diarrhea
This is something I start to notice every year around Oscar season. You'll get a lot of thinkpiece movies, ones that feature cutting dialogue and verbal sparring. Frost/Nixon and Doubt are good examples from this year's crop, particularly since those films are based on plays. When I'm sitting in the audience for films like that, whenever Meryl-Streep-as-Sister-Aloysius or Michael-Sheen-as-David-Frost gives a good jab, a stunning punch of logic or morals, I'm inclined to mentally give a little "oooo" or "yeah!" The key word here is MENTALLY. Verbal diarrhea describes the process of the brain-to-mouth filter eroding, and consequently verbalizing every single thought you have about what is unfolding in front of you.
I saw a Sunday matinee of Doubt, and the theater was awash with moans and grunts. Women particularly would give a big "Oooooo" or "mmmmm" after every line with any weight - so, like, the whole movie. I started to dread those moments in the film because I knew their power would be somewhat diminished by some obligation to give a noise to what the audience was feeling. It was happening when I saw The Wrestler too, after every single moment of emotion.
This isn't to say that people aren't allowed to react to movies. You can and should should laugh when it's funny and cry when it's sad. But verbal diarrhea is the equivalent of someone saying "THAT WAS DEEP" after every line that was. It doesn't let a film breathe.
Am I being completely hypersensitive or does this bother other people too?
January 21, 2009
"Yeah, I kinda like everything."
"Yeah, I dunno, I just like a bit of everything."
No. No you don't.
The most telling part of that answer is what follows it. A followup to that remark which would make logical sense is to say two very diverse things, to demonstrate the vastly separate poles of your interest. For example: "I like pretty much everything, from The Bicycle Thieves to Armageddon." Postwar Italian neorealist film and recent Hollywood blockbuster? Yes, those are very different and imply that your tastes stretch between them. But here are some of the things I heard in class:
"Yeah, I just like everything - like Judd Apatow and Woody Allen."
"Yeah, I like everything - some auteur stuff like Wes Anderson, but also, like, The Dark Knight."
This answer is just a cover-up for people who don't stray far from the beaten path, taste-wise. There is not a single person in the history of the world who likes every genre of film and every film they've ever seen. And if they do, it means they have no taste! It's even more of an epidemic with musical tastes. "I like everything" with reference to music actually means "I pretty much just like top 40 stuff, I like a couple socially uncool bands that I am forced to keep to myself, and I have a couple of Mozart songs on my iPod because I had to learn them for a piano recital like 10 years ago."
I'm not saying that there aren't people with diverse taste, but those people never use that dreaded preface - they can just rattle off bands or directors they like and paint a very clear picture of what they like and gravitate towards.
So how can we combat this annoying trend? Easy: with follow-up questions. "Oh, you like everything? How about foreign films? Documentaries? Shorts? Animation? Avant-garde? Experimental?" For music, "so then you like Chinese folk music? Yodeling? Screamo? Opera? Classical? Tuvan throat singers?" And they will say no, be forced to admit their actual taste, and be more careful about using that vast generalization in the future, in case there's a smart aleck like you around.
January 14, 2009
Jeffrey Katzenberg's mind. Hilarious.
It's funny because it's TRUE! Click to enlarge, you gotta read all of it. From genius Mortal Wombat (love it) via Cracked.
Is this actually a movie? #3
What does this movie sound like to you? When I clicked on the title (with no auxiliary information present) I figured it might be a crappy Nicolas Cage action movie, or something about mutants in space.
No.
It's a live-action movie about guinea pigs saving the world. (And eerily, I was correct on the Nicolas Cage front - he voices one of the guinea pigs).
So just think about that for a second.
Are you ready to see what all this is about? Behold.
Several things come to mind:
1) Jerry Bruckheimer. Uh oh.
2) Penelope Cruz, you were actually making good career choices for a while there that resulted in award nominations! Why must it come to a crashing halt?! (She voices the martial arts piggy Juarez).
3) A guinea pig exuding sex appeal is something that no one should ever have to witness.
4) Will Arnett is very funny, but there's not a whole lot he can do acting opposite guinea pigs.
5) As I watched this, I realized what the fundamental problem was. If you want to make an effective animal movie, you have two choices. One is to make an animated movie, where the animals can talk and sing and dance and do whatever and that's fine. The other is to make a live-action film where animals only do things they can do in real life. When you merge the two, it becomes a disaster. Real animals who have certain body parts animated to do things they can't usually do isn't only not cute, but it's kind of disturbing. So really, this should have been a completely animated movie. Think about how awful Bolt would be if they used real animals with animated mouths. It goes against a natural world order.
If you have no brains or soul and this movie appeals to you, it hits theaters July 24. And if you have children who drag you to it, I apologize in advance.
January 1, 2009
A response to the Women's Film Critic Circle Awards
For reference, here are the winners (losers?) of those categories:
MOST OFFENSIVE MALE CHARACTERS
Aaron Eckhart: Towelhead
Sam Rockwell: Choke,
Larry Bishop: Hell Ride
Paul Rudd, Sean William Scott: Role Models
Jason Mewes: Zack And Miri Make a Porno
Roman Polanski: Wanted And Desired
House Of The Sleeping Beauties
The Women
The Life Before Her Eyes
The Hottie and the Nottie
Savage Grace
Made Of Honor
The Family That Preys
Hounddog
Zack And Miri Make A Porno
Talk about COMPLETELY MISSING THE POINT OF EVERYTHING.
What these lovely ladies don't seem to understand is that depicting a morally maladjusted character or a character who does bad things does not mean that the director/screenwriter endorses that characters or his actions. Does Clark Gregg, the director of Choke, think that sex addicts are totally awesome and everyone should be one? No. But he chose to tell the story of one because he thought it would be interesting. Similarly, in Towelhead Aaron Eckhart played a married man who rapes an underage girl. Does Alan Ball endorse this behavior? Of course not, but it was an incredible, nuanced, and above all, compelling performance. I'll skip over Hell Ride, since I haven't seen it, and ponder what the crimes of Paul Rudd and Seann William Scott were in Role Models...that they liked sex and didn't like kids? Jason Mewes in Zack and Miri also seems to be on this list for liking sex.
This reminds me of a discussion I had with my boyfriend about a student film someone in one of my classes made. After workshopping the script in class, I pointed out that the girlfriend of the main character was ridiculous and offensive. Mere seconds after the boyfriend would upset her by being profoundly insensitive and closed off, she would start pawing at him for sex. She was like the sexbot of the writer's wildest fantasies. When I pointed this out to my class, everyone else in the class (all male) ganged up on me and said that it was totally possible, because there were really girls like that. It still bothered me, though. When I mentioned it to my boyfriend, he agreed that yes, there are really girls like that, but writing the character that way is simply uninteresting and one-dimensional. Then I realized what had really bothered me about the character and the script: it exemplified heinously bad writing and character development. She could have been an incestuous coke-dealing rapist prostitute for all I care, as long as she was interesting and well-developed.
As for the Hall of Shame, I wish they had offered reasons for inclusion of each film. For example, they probably included The Hottie and the Nottie because of the inner beauty/outer beauty conflict, but I think the rest of the world would have included it because it stars Paris Hilton, who is not just an embarassment to women but to the human race. It's also featured prominently in the IMDB Bottom 100, so it's just terrible. Similarly, The Life Before Her Eyes, The Women, and Made of Honor are just bad movies. But Roman Polanski: Wanted and Desired, which I've heard good things about, probably just made them throw their hands up in despair because of Polanski's statutory rape charge. Allegedly the film introduces the notion that the justice system evaluating Polanski's case may have been a bit wobbly, but these lady critics may have wildly misconstrued this as endorsement. Similarly, Savage Grace is about mother-son incest that ends in murder, which is messed up, but based on a true story. And I don't know what their problem is with Zack and Miri Make a Porno. People make real pornos, and they have far more graphic sex acts in them than the movie (I think the most scandalous thing is anal?). This movie is just funny.
The link I provided also lists awards from past years that are equally ridiculous. The 2007 awards are particularly bipolar in that they both praise and condemn some of the same movies (Atonement, Hairspray). Their placement of Atonement in the Hall of Shame really makes me think they have a problem with sex in general.
So there you have it. I appreciate what this organization is trying to do, as women and their stories are sorely under-represented in cinema, but I think they may be actually holding the cause back by getting their petticoats in a bunch over every single representation of vice and sin on screen.
What do you think?
December 19, 2008
My new film!
I have an internet version here. It's not the greatest quality, but you get the idea. I couldn't upload it to YouTube, because it's too long. Instead, I uploaded it to Median, which is Emerson College's version of YouTube without length limits. The bummer is that it's a Flash-based site, so I can't provide a direct link. It should be one of the first titles on there, but if not, you can search "Teenage Christ."
Here ya go: http://median.emerson.edu/
Comments welcome, as long as they are glowing positive reviews.
Happy holidays...I think you'll find the subject matter of this film fitting for the season. Share it with friends! Free publicity woohoo!
December 9, 2008
What are your favorite cinematic themes and/or elements?
1. Unrest in the suburbs. Mosey over to this post to see my full exploration of that little fetish.
2. Challenges to masculinity and/or destruction by too much power. This theme appears in some older movies, such as Written on the Wind (1957), where it takes the literal form of impotence that drives one of the male leads to insanity. That can be fun and all, but I also gravitate towards stories that show the dangers of being overly masculine (or having others expect you to be). The last few years have been ripe with these films - The Departed, There Will Be Blood, and No Country for Old Men stand out as examples. Just as too much testosterone can shorten your lifespan (true business!), being too macho ultimately destroys you. It's an interesting change of pace from the indestructible he-man that Hollywood depicted for so long.
3. Real relationships between real people. Hollywood glamour and magic can be nice, but sometimes, it's just grating. You can't always watch gorgeous celebrities reading picture-perfect screenplays of romance (or even picture-perfect destructions - Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? is a great film, but far more theatrical than real life). The closer to real a relationship is, whether in terms of passion, dialogue, or attractiveness, the more I'll dig it. Examples: the stream-of-consciousness dialogue in Before Sunrise, Zach Braff farting on Jacinda Barrett in The Last Kiss, the unglamorous marital messiness but ultimate reunion of Harvey and Joyce Pekar in American Splendor, people with bad social skills falling for each other in Punch-Drunk Love. As much as you hear that the cinema is escapism, people can connect more to the real.
4. Bittersweet endings. A good ending can make or break a film. Lots of older films (noirs and crime films in particular) have slapped-on happy endings put there by the Production Code (see my exploration of that subject here ) that seem awkward, but can be forgiven with knowledge of the extenuating circumstances. Crap endings in modern films - when the director/screenwriter actually has options - infuriate me. Both happy and sad endings have their place, but I believe that the Holy Grail is the bittersweet ending. Maybe things went to shit, but there's a glimmer of hope. Maybe you lost the girl, but you gained a friend. Without explicit spoilers, Casablanca, Annie Hall, and The Squid and the Whale are examples. Alternately, I like endings that show that things don't really change, or that cycles continue, such as Election or Thank You For Smoking. Another version of the bittersweet ending is one that is technically a happy ending, but doesn't give you a huge movie kiss on a silver platter. See: The Apartment, My Fair Lady (even though I hated MFL).
5. Combating aggression with intelligence. In The Big Sleep, Humphrey Bogart remarks to a gun-toting thug, "My, my, my! Such a lot of guns around town and so few brains! You know, you're the second guy I've met today that seems to think a gat in the hand means the world by the tail." SO COOL. I'm a sucker for films where protagonists can defeat enemies with just their wit. Courtroom dramas are a subdivision of this genre that I naturally love - such as Inherit the Wind, where Spencer Tracy takes down a whole courtroom of creationists by, like, making sense.
What premise or themes are you drawn to?
December 3, 2008
11 Great suburban unrest films
1. Shadow of a Doubt (1943)
This was Hitchcock's favorite film of his own, because, as he said, it brought murder "back into the home, where it rightfully belongs." Murder in a creepy motel is all fine and good, or on an exotic adventure, but Hitch gets it: it's creepier in your own house. Especially when you suspect that your own flesh and blood (in this case, a favorite uncle) is a widow killer! Some critics call this Hitchcock's most "American" film, because it is rooted in the traditional American paranoia of someone infiltrating and destructing our perfect lives.
2. Rebel Without a Cause (1955)
Let's take a trip in the way-back machine, to when all this business started. Suburbs as they are now known started cropping up at the end of WWII, so this film would have been one of the earliest to explore the idea that these perfect communities do not exclusively contain perfect people living perfect lives. This film was also revolutionary in putting forth the argument that teenagers actually have real problems. Every time I hear James Dean yell "You're tearing me apart!" to his parents in this film, it gives me chills.
3. All That Heaven Allows (1955) and
4. Far From Heaven (2002)
I'm mentioning these together because the second is an homage to/reimagining of the first. It basically takes the concept further, asking what if the forbidden love had not been between the housewife and the younger man, but the housewife and a black man? And oh, her husband is gay too? Both films are heartbreaking explorations of how the suburban ideal keeps people from being themselves - and being with those they truly love.
5. The Graduate (1967)
Okay, yes, we've all heard of The Graduate (I hope?!). Benjamin is burnt out - he can't be a slave to his parents' expectations anymore. Mrs. Robinson is just as unsatisfied as he is with the "plastic" (yuk yuk) life they lead. So they turn to the short-term solution of sex. Everyone wants to escape, but nobody really gets anywhere.
6. Blue Velvet (1986)
While I can't exactly say that I like this film in the traditional sense of the word, it's definitely unique and compelling. David Lynch has painted a surreal universe where you are constantly asking which is freakier: Dennis Hopper huffing gas and committing graphic acts of sexual violence, or the chipper and fake everyday people of Lumberton. Lynch subtly implies that there's twisted stuff going on behind every closed door in the burbs.
7. The Ice Storm (1997)
Set in the 1970s during a time of changing values, this film tells the tale of neighboring families getting increasingly intertwined. The ensemble cast is amazing, but Joan Allen stands out in her role of the housewife who just can't stand by and watch her husband cheat and her anymore. Her gradual build towards an outburst can be seen as representative of suburban repression everywhere.
8.The Truman Show (1998) and
9. Hot Fuzz (2007)
I mention these together because, though they diverge wildly in style and content, they are both riffs on a much more literal interpretation of the suburban lie: that it is an actual conspiracy. Whether those nice neighbors are actually members of a violent gang or actors interacting with you for the pleasure of a worldwide viewing audience, the burbs are certainly not what they seem.
10. American Beauty (1999)
Duh. Dad's having a midlife crisis, Mom's having an affair, daughter's having a whirlwind romance with a dangerous stranger, the dangerous stranger's parents don't speak, etc. It's not new or groundbreaking territory by any means, but it's done well and with a snarky edge.
11. Little Children (2006)
Oh, Little Children. You are challenging, you are painful, you are real. It's incredible that Todd Field managed to elicit sympathy for a bunch of adulterers and even a child molester. It's even more incredible that parts of this movie are actually funny.
As a disclaimer, I am aware that there are certain things that would qualify for this list, but I have not seen them. They include, but are not limited to: Edward Scissorhands, The Virgin Suicides, and countless classic zombie or horror films that I don't have the nerves and/or stomach for. Kindly do not freak out at me for this.
What are you favorite films of this genre?
November 14, 2008
My dream week of theater programming
There's a great little independent movie theater in my native Boston called the Brattle Theatre. It has hosted such pivotal moments in my life as almost getting a picture with Simon Pegg and going to a screening of American Splendor because I knew a cute boy was going but ultimately falling completely in love with the film and forgetting the boy. Anyway, they have a cool annual raffle (called the Braffle!) where the winner gets to pick a night of programming for the theater. Anything you want them to show, they'll try to dig it up (read more about it here ). Winning that would clearly be awesome, but I couldn't even begin to think of what I'd pick if I only had one night. Thus my interest was piqued when they posted their schedule for this past March (yes, I started this post a while ago), and I noticed that one of their repertory series is called "Selected By...Andrew Bujalski." Bujalski is a local indie filmmaker (http://imdb.com/name/nm1216004/) and now, the target of my fierce jealousy. I've decided that being chosen to inflict your taste upon people - for a week! - is the ultimate measure of success. You can check out his picks here - or just do what I did and start thinking about what your dream program would be.
Let's say you had six days (as Andrew did). You can do single or double features, maybe a triple, themed or not. But before you just start rattling off all your favorite movies, there are some things to take into consideration. First of all, you might want to think in terms of films that could benefit from being shown on the big screen. Silent expressionist classics? Sure. Lavish musicals? Totally. A Will Ferrell movie? Not really. Second, this is your chance to tell people what they should see. Maybe you really like Jaws, but bringing Jaws to the masses won't really make a statement at this point. It's your chance to be that cool friend saying "hey, check out this movie, maybe you haven't heard of it but I think you'll like it" on a large scale. Finally, you would want to pick films that say something about you as an artist or as a person. If someone told you that they like the Beatles, does that really narrow down what kind of a person they are at all? Similarly, if you were to screen Star Wars or The Godfather or The Wizard of Oz, that's pretty noncommittal. Everyone likes those. Also, if you want, it's fun to think of films that go well together, either thematically, chronologically, by person, etc...
So after some consideration, here is my dream "Selects" series!
NIGHT 1
Ruthless ambition night!
Election (1999)
Sweet Smell of Success (1957)
Though one is a perky high school student and the other is a sleazy and desperate ad man in New York, both Tracy Flick and Sidney Falco are experts at clawing their way to the top. Election's dark comedy would complement the acidic tone of the jazz-tinged Sweet Smell.
NIGHT 2
Dance! Dance! Dance!
Center Stage (2000
All That Jazz (1979)
The former is just a straight-up guilty pleasure. It's what a ridiculous dance movie should be: absurd and contrived dialogue, unlikely coincidences, and unironically awesome dance sequences. The latter is especially timely due to the recent passing of its star, Roy Scheider. If you only know Scheider as Captain Brody from Jaws, you're in for a treat if you witness his bravura performance as a thinly veiled portrayal of the film's director, Bob Fosse. Although he doesn't actually do much singing or dancing, those duties are more than amply distributed to the rest of the cast, who create an alternately jubilant, morose, and surreal experience. Would be amazing on the big screen.
NIGHT 3
Pedro Almodóvar night!
Mujeres al borde de un ataque de nervios (Women on the Verge of Nervous Breakdown) (1988)
Carne trémula (Live Flesh) (1997)
Todo sobre mi madre (All About My Mother) (1999)
This is my frenzied cry for America to pay more attention to Pedro. He is my favorite director working today, and the only one whose movies I consistently get ridiculously excited for. I try to push him on people at every possible opportunity. This trio of films represents the three stages of his career pretty well. Early on, his movies were lusty screwball farces, of which Mujeres is the best example. Carne marked his move into melodrama, but is still teeming with the extravagant excess of his earlier work. Todo sobre mi madre is one of my absolute favorite films of all time, and represents a maturation and polish to his films. No detail is overlooked, and Almodóvar dictates everything from casting to set design to soundtrack. He is pure cinema. (They actually had a Pedro program at the Brattle this summer, so maybe this would be better somewhere else.)
NIGHT 4
Rockin the suburbs!
Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1959)
Little Children (2006)
Two very different films, from very different times, that echo the same sentiment: the suburbs are fucked up. The ORIGINAL Body Snatchers (I don't mess with the 70s version, or that Nicole Kidman remake crap) begs the question of whether the emotionless clones of citizens that begin to appear are symbolic of Communists. Whether they are or not, I think we can all agree that giant oozing pods appearing all over town and spawning evil clones is fairly problematic. Little Children, a criminally overlooked masterpiece of 2006, deals instead with inner demons - adultery, pedophilia, porn addiction, isolation, insecurity, and other fun things of that nature. And Patrick Wilson is gorgeous, so now you have no excuse for missing this nonexistent event.
NIGHT 5
Modern black and white night!
The Man Who Wasn't There (2001)
Good Night, and Good Luck (2005)
I'm always interested by modern filmmakers who choose to film in black and white. Some, like Kevin Smith for Clerks, do it for financial reasons, but Clooney and the Coens wisely chose it for artistic reasons. Both films, set around mid-century, make ample use of gorgeous cinematography with no shortage of langurous cigarette smoking. Stunning cinematography and acting would make this pairing a knockout.
AFTERNOON 6
Fun!
What a Way to Go! (1964)
A breezy matinee to cap off the week. Did you know that there's a movie starring Shirley MacLaine, Robert Mitchum, Gene Kelly, Dick Van Dyke, Paul Newman and Dean Martin, that's a dark comedy that parodies silent film, French film, and musicals? Yes. This exists. And it's awesome.
What would yours be, for a day or a week?
November 11, 2008
What a movie ad's choice of endorsing quote says about the film quality
Having worked at a video store and having seen my fair share of movie posters, ads, and DVD covers in my time, I feel that I have developed a pretty good system of "reading" endorsement quotes. It's really not enough to hear that it's the best movie of the year - you need to know who said so. Additionally, it's only partially about what reviews were received - it's about what review is displayed. Presumably, the quote they choose to flaunt is the best they have. A movie isn't going to proudly display a quote from some podunk reviewer for an Alabama newspaper if they have a glowing review from Variety. So, going on the assumption that the review on the poster is the best and most prestigious one the film has to date, let's see how you can interpret their choice to determine the film's quality. I know this sytem isn't perfect, but it's fairly accurate. Please don't bother giving yourself a hernia from angry commenting, because I know there are exceptions and on some level, this is INTENDED TO BE HUMOROUS. I have provided crappy pictures that I took myself as examples.
October 8, 2008
Does knowing that the bad guy must lose in old movies affect the viewing experience?
One aspect of the Code that I've always found interesting is that the bad guys weren't allowed to win. To cite the actual text of the Code, "the treatment of crimes against the law must not: 1. teach methods of crime 2. inspire potential criminals with a desire for imitation 3. make criminals seem heroic and justified." Even in the era of gangster movies, where the audience secretly sympathizes with the gangsters the whole time, their behavior was not allowed to go unpunished. They must either repent, get caught, or die (or all three).
Now, perhaps you have not noticed that in older movies (and keep in mind that this does not necessarily apply to pre-1934 films) it never ends well for people working against the law, even if they are arguably the protagonists. I'm always very aware of it, and it can sometimes color my viewing experience. It's essentially knowing the ending - or at least the general outcome - of every crime movie made in a 30+ year period. I know that a good film should still hold up and be engaging even if you know how it ends, but a certain virgin quality is lost of going in totally unaware.
For example, I recently saw Stanley Kubrick's breakthrough film from 1956, The Killing. It's a taut crime noir about a gang of hoods robbing a racetrack. Even though I was totally hooked on the story, my mind started to wander a little and I couldn't help but thinking, "no matter how well they execute their plan, they will ultimately not succeed." Even though nobody explicitly spoiled the end for me, the truth of that era of moviemaking hung over me. To Kubrick's credit, he actually handles the mandatory disciplining of his lawless characters with deftness and grace, but depending on the nature of the story being told, often the endings just seem slapped on. Take Michael Curtiz's Angels With Dirty Faces (1938). The film features the incomporable king of the gangsters, James Cagney, thugging it up for almost the entire running time and clearly having his escapades glorified, but then shows him being executed at the end, and appearing afraid and pathetic in the face of death so that a gang of street urchins who idolize him will cease to do so. Most modern audiences - and in fact, even the audiences at the time - realized the incongruity of these endings and generally ignored them, but being a sucker for good endings, I still wonder how these movies would end if the directors were left to their own devices.
In trying to think of a film where the bad guys got away with it, the first one that came to mind was Ocean's Eleven (the Soderbergh version - I can't speak for the original). How could they not get away with it? Those guys are heroes! They're too cool to get caught! In modern films, because the possibility of success and failure exist in an equal ratio (unless it's based on a true story), there is actual tension and suspense as to the outcome. Again, the film should still stand on its own if you know who wins and/or loses, but with that knowledge a certain bite is lost.
What do you think? Have you noticed this phenomenon, and has it affected your viewing experiences?
September 18, 2008
Really easy ways to not make a terrible movie
It is a fucking disaster.
In one of my classes yesterday, my fellow students lamented the inexplicable surge in popularity of zombie culture at our school, and by extension, zombie-themed movies. The oppressively tangible irony of the situation was that the complaining parties were completely guilty of abusing EVERY OTHER FILM STUDENT CLICHE EVER. They had all made movies with strippers, suicides, murderers, etc.
I deserve medals for the screenings I have sat through. There are no apparent storytelling skills, the lighting sources are obvious, the sound is bad, the acting is overly melodramatic, the themes are ludicrous. And there are lots of penises. Yes, penises. I'll get to that later.
I think part of the problem is that some of the professors are too lenient in what they allow. Some probably feel like they have no right to interfere with their students' visions, but allow me to butt in and say that if their visions are shit, they should be told that, and soon.
Filmmaking has rules. The rules aren't in place to be mean and arbitrary, but rather because they are time-tested strategies that are effective at communicating stories in a non-confusing manner. I am 100% okay with breaking the rules, but not because you didn't know them in the first place. For example, the 180-degree rule states that you should never orbit a full 180 degrees around a character in two consecutive shots, because it is spatially disorienting. In Spike Lee's fantastic film 25th Hour, he breaks this rule left and right. This is okay, though, because Lee studied the rule, employed it in other films, evaluated how it would work in this particular project, and consciously decided against it for artistic reasons. This is a far cry from a spatial mess that is a result of sloppy shooting.
The biggest problems I typically see, however, are thematic. What horrible traumas happened to all of these students as children that condemn them to make film after film of morbid, perverse tragedy? During a final screening of student films last year, I kept a running tally of on-screen suicides. I ran out of fingers to count on. The suicides are all the same, too: 1) shot of gun held against head 2) Black screen with gunshot sound 3) Shot of lifeless face in a pool of blood. For the love of God, if you somehow must involve a suicide, do something DIFFERENT.
There are also virtually no comedies. Everyone has this Really Intense Story that they simply need to share with the world. The few comedies that get made, however, are not funny. One film sticks out in my memory about an old-school actor accustomed to performing in blackface, who naturally cannot find work anymore. This had a slight potential to be funny with competent execution, but as it was it just made the audience uncomfortable.
Sometimes I wonder what I would be like as a film professor. I feel that with a few simple rules, so many cinematic train wrecks could be avoided. I don't plan on becoming a professor, though. So, for the sake of my own sanity, I will throw the following advice up into the air and hope it lands on at least a few aspiring filmmakers. It's difficult to make a great film, but it's also not hard to avoid making a terrible one. If I can make a difference in the creative output of even a single person, I will feel that I have done my part to prevent a potential cinematic apocalypse.
(Disclaimer: I am not, by compiling this list, claiming to be the world's greatest filmmaker or any kind of critical authority. But I do think we can all agree on certain points of taste and competence, such as submitting a colonoscopy for a final project. Yeah. See #5.)
1. Have people act their age (and their look).
Your 20-year-old roommate is not a rogue cop. He is not a serial killer. He is not an innocent 13-year-old boy. He is not a weathered father. He is a 20-year-old dude, and he looks like one. Cast accordingly. If you are not going to put in the extra effort to find people who can realistically portray their assigned parts, then make a movie exclusively about people the age of your friends. Nothing wrong with that.
2. Your dingy apartment is not CIA headquarters.
It's not a police station, or a high school, or a brothel, either. It's your dingy apartment. With some art direction, it could be a few different things, but the audience isn't really going to buy it if your rogue-cop roommate brings your serial killer roommate in for government interrogation in front of a blank wall with the corner of a Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas poster poking out. If you think I'm exaggerating, I saw a film where a high school with some brown sheets draped around was supposed to be a cave in Iraq. Really.
3. No suicides.
It's lazy. And no murders unless you give me a really, really compelling reason.
4. No strippers/prostitutes. And better women in general!
The vast majority of film majors are males. The vast majority of males are heterosexual. The entirety of heterosexual males are horny. Also, men in college typically lack a world-weary lifetime of experience with women that is reflected in the films of older male directors. The sad result is that their film projects play out as a fairly straight depiction of their fantasies, fetishes, and desires. For instance, I once saw a (silent!) film project about a high school boy with an attractive teacher. Some Googling reveals that his teacher is a former porn star (of course), so the boy (after masturbating vigorously) takes it upon himself to post a printout of her in her porn days on the classroom door. When the class asked the writer/director why the fuck anyone would do that, he just looked away uncomfortably and said that sometimes people feel confused, leading me to believe strongly that this really happened. A script I read in class recently featured a young and attractive girlfriend character who appeared to have a three-second memory - despite her boyfriend constantly ignoring her and mistreating her, within a matter of minutes after any offense she was pawing at him for sex. I shot this mo-fucker down in class, basically saying that this might be his dream girlfriend, but that shit doesn't fly in the real world.
5. No penises.
There's a running joke every year about anticipating which film at a screening will be The Penis Movie. The motivation for showing a penis in these movies is never, ever clear. One movie I saw last year had the following plot outline: man wakes up. Man makes and eats breakfast. Man smokes a cigarette. Man goes to beach. Man strips down naked and wades into water. Man buries himself in sand up to neck. A cockroach walks by. The end. A more famous example around campus featured a guy masturbating, and at the end he backed his asshole into the camera while spreading his butt checks. Straight-up colonoscopy. The only time I could make a compelling point for seeing a penis would be 1) for genuinely comedic purposes, such as Forgetting Sarah Marshall, or 2) in the context of a WELL-DONE (emphasis on WELL-DONE) sex scene. Same for female naughty bits, really.
6. Write real dialogue.
Most student films contain dialogue that sounds like it was written by Martians with no knowledge of human interaction. The real genius in crafting dialogue is simply listening to how people talk and communicate. You don't have to write a terse 90 minutes of Tarantino-esque pithy one-liners, and in fact, you shouldn't. Just listen to your friends, your family, yourself. The best dialogue, in my opinion, resonates like something either I or someone I know might have said. Don't try so hard, just listen.
7. Be able to tell a story without words before graduating to words. Words are a privilege, not a crutch.
At our school, we have a rather strange curriculum order. First comes Intro to Media Production, where we make little projects on digital (with sound). Then for film students, there's Film I, which is black and white silent filmmaking. Then Film II, which is color, sound filmmaking. Huh? Kids get so whiny when they can't have their little Tarantinoish dialogue peppering their masterpieces. Well, film was silent for almost 30 years, and they did alright for themselves then. Most students cheat their silent films by filling them with signs, text messages, emails, letters - any kind of type they can, feeling panicked by the silence. If you really think about it, though, you tell people stories all the time that have no dialogue in them. Weird guy following you down the street? Waking up hungover with no idea where you are? A strange dream you had, where nobody talked? There are countless examples. People sitting around and talking is not a movie, unless it's Before Sunrise or Before Sunset (and I am not knocking those movies). One of the best student films I've seen in my time here was about strange cowboy boots that made people so uncomfortable that they died and the sun exploded. And it had virtually no dialogue. It was so out there that it actually worked.
So please. I impore you. Take my bite-sized nugget of alternate film school with you in your journey through life. Remember, you make films for yourself, but also for the audience. If a movie falls in a forest and no one watches it, is it still a movie?
August 30, 2008
Third-person narration done right
Oy.
Ask anyone who's studied film for three or more minutes and they can tell you that one of the cardinal rules of filmmaking is "show, don't tell." Don't have a character say "I am so sad right now!" - have them cry instead. Narration can be a very tricky thing to master - you shouldn't do it unless there's a concrete reason. Third-person narration in particular is near impossible to pull off, because it lacks the personal connection to the story gained from one of the characters narrating in first person. It can't just be a crutch. I think great cinema is achieved when it doesn't take very much to convey a lot. When one look on an actor's face says it all.
Well, in VCB, the actors' looks have to say mostly everything, because the narration renders them useless. The movie is like an audiobook with pictures. One of the opening shots has Vicky and Cristina, played by Rebecca Hall and Scarlett Johansson, sitting in the back of a taxi. The narrator spills out their life stories, values, likes, dislikes, habits, and desires in one fell swoop while the two talented actresses sit there and stare out the window. WTF?! Don't just have a random voice saying "Vicky was conservative and traditional in matters of love, while Cristina was adventurous and free-spirited" (or whatever they said to that effect) - have Vicky on the phone with her man from back home while Cristina flirts with the cab driver. Something! It's so patronizing that it's offensive.
Not only was the voiceover patronizing, it was redundant. Long ago, it became cinematically accepted for characters to do several things in a montage sequence without painstaking explanation. Two characters say "we're going to have a fun day!" Then they go shopping, get ice cream, see a movie, go dancing, walk through the park, etc. These can all happen in rapid succession without someone stopping to clarify everything they're doing. Woody apparently missed this memo, because shots of the characters going to a bakery and a sculpture garden are accompanied by that goddamn voice saying "Then they went to a local bakery and sampled candies and sweets. Then they went to see a sculpture and Vicky thought it was beautiful." Those lines are as close to verbatim as I can remember them. It's like a slideshow of someone's vacation.
So as a favor to Woody, who apparently does not know any of this, I will provide some legitimate and creative reasons to employ third-person voiceover narration as a cinematic device, and some filmic examples of each.
1. To lend an epic nature to the proceedings
Successful examples: The Big Lebowski (1998), Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy (2004)
At their cores, Lebowski is just a movie about a Los Angeles slacker embroiled in a kidnapping mystery, and Anchorman is a silly story about a newscaster. But by employing a booming voice to set up their stories, The Dude and Ron Burgundy become heroic men of their times. Another byproduct of this faux-epic setup is, unsurprisingly, humor.
Excerpt: "And in San Diego, one anchorman was more man then the rest. His name was Ron Burgundy. He was like a god walking amongst mere mortals. He had a voice that could make a wolverine purr and suits so fine they made Sinatra look like a hobo. In other words, Ron Burgundy was the balls." -- Anchorman
"Sometimes, there's a man, well, he's the man for his time and place. He fits right in there. And that's the Dude." -- Lebowski
2. To establish a thematic context
Successful examples: Amelie (2001), Magnolia (1999)
These two films are both largely about the interconnectedness of people, so the narration talks about events that may not pertain directly to the main narrative - but that's exactly the point.
Excerpt: "On September 3rd 1973, at 6:28pm and 32 seconds, a bluebottle fly capable of 14,670 wing beats a minute landed on Rue St Vincent, Montmartre. At the same moment, on a restaurant terrace nearby, the wind magically made two glasses dance unseen on a tablecloth. Meanwhile, in a 5th-floor flat, 28 Avenue Trudaine, Paris 9, returning from his best friend's funeral, Eugène Colère erased his name from his address book. At the same moment, a sperm with one X chromosome, belonging to Raphaël Poulain, made a dash for an egg in his wife Amandine. Nine months later, Amélie Poulain was born." -- Amelie
(after noting several historical coincidences) "And it is in the humble opinion of this narrator that this is not just 'Something That Happened.' This cannot be 'One of Those Things...' This, please, cannot be that. And for what I would like to say, I can't. This was not just a matter of chance. Ohhhh. These strange things happen all the time." -- Magnolia
3. Expressing a character's thoughts that, no matter how talented the actor, they couldn't express themselves
Successful example: Little Children (2006)
A good actor can display a myriad of emotions. He or she can give countless different readings of a line. But there are subtler trains of thought that can't be conveyed any other way. As talented as Kate Winslet is, how else could she communicate the train of though below? Besides, a lot of the source material from Tom Perrotta's novel was probably just too good not to include.
Excerpt: "She didn't feel shame or guilt, only a sense of profound disorientation, as if she had been kidnapped by aliens, and then released, unharmed, a few hours later."
"Sarah was short, and boyish - and had eyebrows that were thicker than Brad thought necessary." -- Little Children
4. To pack in a lot of backstory about a character
Successful examples: The Royal Tenenbaums (2002), Network (1976)
I know I said earlier that the voiceover in VCB explaining the characters' lives away was unnecessary. However, that was because it was discussing their traits and characteristics, which should be able to come out in their performances. At the beginning of the two films listed above, there's just some narrative information that needs to get out there, and fast. Also, when your narrator is Alec Baldwin, it's hardly ever superfluous.
Excerpts: "In the sixth grade, he went into business, breeding dalmatian mice, which he sold to a pet shop in Little Tokyo. He started buying real estate in his early teens and seemed to have an almost preternatural understanding of international finance." -- Tenenbaums
"This story is about Howard Beale, the acclaimed news anchorman on UBS T.V. In this time, however, he was a mandarin of television with a HUT rating of 16 and a 28 audience share. In 1969, however, his fortunes began to decline. He fell to a 22 share. The following year, his wife died, and he was left a childless widower with an 8 rating and a 12 share. He became morose and isolated, started to drink heavily, and on September 22, 1975, he was fired, effective in two weeks." -- Network
5. To set up a chronology that might otherwise be unclear
Successful example: The Killing (1956)
Kubrick's early film received initial criticism for its non-linear account of a robbery, which was cited as confusing. However, that same element holds up as a strong point today. Without the voice specifying what time it was, the full impact of the overlapping storylines might not have been achieved. Interestingly, though, the narration was added at the studio's insistence and Kubrick hated the idea.
Excerpt: "An hour earlier that same afternoon, in another part of the city, Patrolman First Class Randy Kennan had some personal business to attend to."
6. When the source material is a widely-known classic and people will be pissed if it isn't included
Successful examples: movies adapted from Dr. Seuss or Shakespeare
Could you imagine a Dr. Seuss movie without the delightfully nonsensical rhymes of the corresponding book, read in voiceover by some narrator with a twinkle in his eye? Or how about a Romeo and Juliet adaptation (one that uses the original language) where the famous opening is just hacked off? It simply can't be done. Baz Luhrmann's Romeo + Juliet (1996) added a twist by having that opening read as a newscast, but it was still there.
Excerpts: "Two households, both alike in dignity / In fair Verona, where we lay our scene / From ancient grudge break to new mutiny / Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean..." -- any decent R+J adaptation
"And so, all ended well for both Horton and Who's, and for all in the jungle, even kangaroos. So let that be a lesson to one and to all; a person is a person, no matter how small." -- Horton Hears a Who (2008)
What other movies do third-person narration right - or horribly wrong?
August 20, 2008
Actors that are not only still alive, but have been consistenly working since their heyday
1. Faye Dunaway
Poor Faye. She was a go-to girl in the late 60s and the 70s for playing complex and sophisticated women, winning an Oscar for her devilish role in Network (1976) and earning nominations for her roles in the classics Bonnie and Clyde (1967) and Chinatown (1974).
And then?
Lots of TV movies and TV guest appearances. Dunston Checks In in 1996, where she costarred with a monkey. Independent movies where she is billed near the bottom.
Lowest point: Cougar Club (2007).We're not talking about wildcats here....
2. Eli Wallach
Making his film debut in Elia Kazan's Baby Doll in 1956, Wallach is best known for his menacing turns in The Magnificent Seven (1960) and The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly (1966), but kept busy with juicy roles through the 1970s. He is also a Tony-winning stage actor.
And then?
TV appearances ("Whoopi"??), voiceover work, an uncredited bit part in Mystic River (is that cool or sad?), and headlining several independent films about Italians. At least he's managed to maintain lead or high billing all these years, but that doesn't really matter if no one sees the movie, huh? He shows no signs of slowing down despite being 93 YEARS OLD.
Lowest point: Two Much (1996). Right from the punny title, you know it's comedy genius...
3. Mickey Rooney
Best known as a child star, Rooney of one of the major musical stars in MGM's stable in the 1930s. He made 15 films as his Andy Hardy character, costarring often with Judy Garland, and countless shorts as his Mickey McGuire character. He received four Oscar nominations, and a special "juvenile" Academy Award in 1939.
And then?
He did receive one of his Oscar nominations in 1979 for The Black Stallion, an impressive four or five decades past his heyday. But he never stopped - there were TV movies, endless appearances as a grandfather figure, voice work, and bad, bad movies.
Lowest point: The year 1998. How about Sinbad: The Battle of the Dark Knights (1998), with its stunning 1.6 star rating on IMDB? Or how about Babe: Pig in the City (also 1998), where he is credited as "Fugly Floom, The Speechless Man in Hotel"?
4. Kevin McCarthy
Best known for his role as the lead in the 1956 classic Invasion of the Body Snatchers, McCarthy also had a Golden Globe-winning turn as Biff Loman in 1951's Death of a Salesman. He also made an appearance on practically every TV show of the 50s and 60s.
And then?
Even though he acted highbrow fare like the 1966 adaptation of Chekhov's The Three Sisters, McCarthy hasn't lost touch with schlock. He played "fire department rescuer" in the campy Mommy (1995) and despite his ripe old age of 94 he has a film coming out called The Ghastly Love of Johnny X (tagline: " They Sing! They Dance! They're Teenagers from Outer Space!"). He also played Dr. Bennell in Looney Tunes: Back in Action (2003), a groan-inducing nod to his character's name in Invasion.
Lowest point: Trail of the Screaming Foreheads. Yes. This exists.
5. Lauren Bacall
A husky-voiced screen siren of the 1940s, Bacall made her smoldering debut in To Have and Have Not (1944), playing opposite future husband Humphrey Bogart (they fell in love during filming). They made three more films together, and Bacall moved on to other such films as How To Marry a Millionaire (1953) and Murder on the Orient Express (1974).
And then?
She actually received an Oscar nomination in 1996 for The Mirror Has Two Faces. Through the turn of the millennium, she's been in about one movie a year, often with fairly high billing. You go, girl.
Lowest point: none, really. I mainly included her on this list because she is often thought to be dead. Even if she did star in some movies that weren't amazing, there was no Trail of the Screaming Foreheads equivalent.
Any surprises here? Who else fits this description?