Sunday, January 18, 2009

Movie Roundup: 1/18/09

I figured I should do this one more time before school swoops in and steals my soul again. I've spent the last (and final, sadly ... or is the promise of actually having something to do really so bad?) week or so of my break re-visiting some old favorites while discovering some, er, interesting new flicks. Same format as before, same scale, same everything. Just different movies. Which is great, 'cause I don't think I could handle The Spirit again just yet.

Forward.

American History X (Tony Kaye, 1998) 84
The movie that made Edward Norton a star, and deservedly so. His work here as a violent skinhead who gets a taste of his own medicine is nothing less than riveting. It's a prime example of a single performance (still Norton's best, by a long shot) elevating an already well-made film into the realms something much greater. The movie as a whole is likely the most brutal examination of racism I have encountered in a film (as much as I like Crash, this makes that one look like Sesame Street), and its impact is indelible. This is only my second time watching the film, but even after the first time I think I'd have had immense trouble forgetting the infamous "curb scene." It's among the nastiest, most mirthless acts of violence I've ever watched onscreen; it gives me chills just thinking about it. But that's a testament to how well done this is: it's sobering as hell and it tugs at the heartstrings unapologetically, but it never feels ingenuine. It's that believability that makes it such a forceful, potent piece of work. Factor Norton's should've-won-an-Oscar performance (he was nominated, but lost to Roberto Benigni) back in there and you have an unsettling film that's every bit as great as everyone says it is.

Ashes of Time Redux (Wong Kar-Wai, 1994/2008) 51
A gorgeous trainwreck. I realize the film probably deserves much lower than what I'm giving it, because it really is pretty awful, but I'm a sucker for visuals. I realize this is the cinematic equivalent of liking someone 'cause they're hott and leaving personality on the backburner, but sue me. I'm shallow. And regardless, I still hate this damn movie. Ashes of Time is well-shot to an extent that it actually makes the incoherence of the rest of the film even more frustrating. Why would Wong Kar-Wai waste such excellent cinematography on such a jumbled, indecipherable, and frankly disinteresting mess? And then, why would he feel the need to resurrect said mess to do a "redux" version? Given the assumption that his new "definitive" cut is an improvement, god help me if I ever have to sit through the original. According to IMDb, the original is seven minutes longer. You don't understand the weight of this. Time is a vacuum with this film. Seven Samurai feels shorter than this thing. An extra seven minutes might very well kill me. But hey, at least they'd be pretty.

The Big Lebowski (The Coen Brothers, 1998) 91
One of my all-time favorite comedies, if only for the fact that every single scene is some sort of absurd comic gem. One of the things about seeing it multiple times is that you learn to not expect it to be a smooth, coherent narrative in the traditional sense. Sure, there's a story, and for a comedy it's almost ridiculously twisty, but you can tell storytelling's not what the Coens are going for this time. They're just fucking around, and the result is that the story ends up riding shotgun to the randomness and absurdity that dominates the whole affair. This'll drive lots of people crazy (and the film does have its avid naysayers), especially if they don't know exactly what to expect, but I think what the Coens have whipped up here is brilliant. The thing is overflowing with memorable scenes, characters, and quotes ("I hate the fuckin' Eagles, man!"); you'll be surprised how often parts of it will come back to you in day-to-day life. It's wonderful, and it's one that gets better and better the more you watch it. I just love it.

Chinatown (Roman Polanski, 1974) 87
"Ya know what happens to nosy fellas? Huh? No? Wanna guess?" Roman Polanski's Chinatown is almost unquestionably among the greatest of all detective films: it's one of those that has both become a milestone in film history, and one that I greatly enjoy on a personal level. Calling it Polanski's best work is a no-brainer, and citing it as Jack Nicholson's finest two hours probably isn't too far off the mark, either. Film noir is my favorite genre, and this is just about as complex and hard-freakin'-boiled as they come. It may elude the casual viewer at first just why the film is called Chinatown, but stick with it: it has one of the grimmest, most hardass (which is to say, ideal) endings I can remember on a film, and by the time the credits roll all will make sense. "Forget it, Jake; it's Chinatown" may be the most wrenching non-sequitur ever spoken on the silver screen, but man. The gut-punch it packs is something else. A great, great film.

Eraserhead (David Lynch, 1977) 81
Fuckin' weird. David Lynch's debut film is much more a continuous stream of surrealist mindfuckery than it is a coherent narrative. To even attempt to describe it would be completely beside the point, and assigning a score to it is about as easy as achieving world peace. With our extant technologies, it's pretty much impossible. Acceptance of this one all hinges on whether or not you're a David Lynch fan. I am, so I give it a really high score, but I'm quite aware that most people ain't gonna be willing to put up with this nonsense. And though I can without hesitation call it brilliant, I too draw the line at calling it enjoyable. This is my second time, and it's still a remarkably uncomfortable experience. But I guess it's supposed to be. I admire it greatly, and even though I own it, it's not the sort of thing I'd ever bust out on a Saturday night and kick back to. I waited two and a half years between viewings #1 and #2. I think I can safely say I've filled my quota 'til June 2011.

The Hidden Fortress (Akira Kurosawa, 1958) 79
Er, how had I not seen this before? This is the film that George Lucas openly admits he took most of his ideas for Star Wars from, and while not a direct copy, it's very easy to see where he drew his inspiration. Truth be told, this is much more lightweight than the bulk of Kurosawa's work. His usual themes of humanity, redemption, and honor are present, but displayed under the guise of an adventure/comedy instead of a deeply moralistic samurai parable (Seven Samurai, Rashomon, etc.). Even still, it feels inherently Kurosawa, and like nearly all of his samurai collaborations with Toshiro Mifune, it's pretty much awesome. Honestly, this thing's just a lot of fun. Mifune's always a badass, the bumbling peasants are consistently amusing, the cinematography is great (but of course), and overall it's another gold star for one of the best-ever filmmakers. If there's one minor quibble I have, it's that the duel scene seems to go on for a really long time. Other than that, this is rockin'. And to think I got the Criterion disc used at Hastings for, like, $7 or something. Whatta steal.

Pan's Labyrinth (Guillermo del Toro, 2006) 97
If "masterpiece" is a word I throw around too much, Pan's Labyrinth is the sort of film that makes me wish I didn't, because that's exactly what it is. Guillermo del Toro's estimably mature adult fantasy is among the extremely few near-flawless cinematic achievements of the decade (or ever, for that matter); I have now seen it a good five or six times and still cannot shake the effect it has on me. It gives me everything I could want from it: it's brutal, it's creepy, but more than anything it's profoundly sad. The scene where Ofelia imagines herself standing in her father's lavish court is one of the most heartbreaking things I've ever seen, especially given the context in which it happens. Not to mention the spine-chilling Pale Man scene, which must be the single most recognizable sequence from any film in a rrrrreally long time. But seriously, neither words nor a near-perfect score can do justice to how phenomenal this is. If you haven't seen it, go watch it this instant. If you have seen it, go watch it again. You'll be glad, I promise.

Repo! The Genetic Opera (Darren Lynn Bousman, 2008) 55
I see lots of movies. Quite a few. Enough to make me think I'm past the point of ever seeing another movie that'll have me gaping at the screen, thinking "WTF" for its entire duration. Repo! The Genetic Opera almost effortlessly convinces me I'm so fucking wrong about this. I have to qualify that 55: this is not a movie I could ever give a straight-up score to. It's not. It wouldn't work. I'm only taking a guess at this, but that final score appears to be an average: if I gave this an 85 for sheer entertainment value and a 25 for how good it really is, that'd just about even it out. This movie is terrible. It's so goddamn bad. But it's entertaining as shit. Go watch it, and I defy you to take your eyes off the screen for even a moment. You won't be able to. So, er, I really don't know what to say about this. It's an instant cult film, for sure (like many have said, it's like the lovechild of Rocky Horror and Sweeney Todd by way of Blade Runner ... and it's got Paris Hilton in it). Am I glad I saw it? Er, well, yeah. Would I watch it again? Er, well, yeah. So I guess, technically, that makes me part of its cult. But I really, really, really don't want to think that way. If you've seen this, you know what I mean.

Revolutionary Road (Sam Mendes, 2008) 68
About ten years ago, Sam Mendes directed a little suburban relationship drama called American Beauty. Remember that one? Wasn't the happiest film ever, was it? Well, now he's gone and directed Revolutionary Road, another suburban relationship drama that successfully makes his prior Oscar-winner feel like a rollicking good time by comparison. Man, this is a harsh, harsh movie. I'm not going to deny it's very well done (the performances in particular are stellar, and I'm banking on Kate Winslet finally winning an Oscar for her work here), but it's nothing I would want to subject myself to ever again. You see it once, you get the point; you've seen what there is to see. You see it twice, you're really just engaging in masochistic behavior. By this token, Revolutionary Road falls into a curious class of film: one that if done well will be depressing, but one that if not done well will still be depressing. Thank god it's done well.

Seven Pounds (Gabriele Muccino, 2008) 47
Ick. Contrived, saccharine blah. It doesn't do anything you don't expect it to, and doesn't do any of these expected things interestingly (it attempts a nonlinear editing style to try to conceal the "big twist," even though we the not-stupid viewers basically have it figured out within 15 minutes). The only legitimate surprise is that it features what may in fact be the single most ridiculous scene involving a jellyfish I have ever watched. But you have to sit through, like, 95% of the movie before you get to that. Which is to say: not worth it.

All right. Three movie roundup posts under my belt. I think I've successfully convinced myself that I am, in fact, going to maintain this stupid thing like I said I would. (Ha, watch it die now. Though really, I like this format. I'll be keepin' it up. Though with school ... yeah. The updates'll be slower comin' and all that, but no worries. The day I stop watching/loving movies will be the day I die, and I don't anticipate that day for quite some time. And with that, I am outta here. Adios.)

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