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Z (1969)
9/10
Angry film that should not be ignored
8 September 2007
Z is that sort of film that defies classification. The best label I can come up for it is political-crime-action-satire. Think ALL THE PRESIDENT'S MEN on Mediterrainean steroids, or Frank Capra in need of Prozac. It's key ability is to grab you by the balls and throw you into a world where you're not sure which "elected" official to trust, or who is getting paid off by whom.

The story is disturbingly based on real incidents that took place in Greece in the early to mid 60s. A prominent senator and deputy of a Nuclear Disarmament committee is hit by a truck immediately after giving a major speech. The film makes it clear who the good and bad guys after from the very first scenes: A corrupt, fascistic government versus a liberal organization deemed unpatriotic. It's also very clear to the audience from the get-go that the deputy was killed deliberately. The suspense lies in whether there will be justice for the dead, and his grieving wife.

Z's jarring proto-reality TV editing can make viewing a pain, but also gives it a harshness and documentary quality that benefits the story. The film's two hindrances are the abrupt ending (which attempts to compress years of developments into a few minutes), and the seething anger which permeates nearly every frame. Yes, the gross injustice in the film is blood curdling stuff, but the filmmakers have a tendency to romanticize the nobility of protesters, political dissidents, and even tabloid reporting. The ruling opposition are caricatures at best, hypocritical monsters at worst. The most human (and most interesting) character is the lead magistrate appointed to investigate the "accident", whose view of the world noticeably evolves over the course of the film.

But ultimately this is a film about ideas rather than humans, as it should be. The same rage that weakens it gives it its best strengths. Z is a film to remind us that our trust in political power should not be taken for granted (as it usually is in the United States), and that ideals scarcely translate from the drawing room to the real world. This message, along with an entertaining thriller plot and Mikis Theodorakis' brilliant score, makes Z a film that ought to be seen.
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Images (1972)
9/10
Underrated, creepy film
27 April 2007
Since the 90s, audiences have been treated to a variety of "mind blowing" thrillers, films that make people sit up in their chairs and say, "what the hell is going on?" We've had JACOB'S LADDER, DONNIE DARKO, MULHOLLAND DRIVE... The subgenre culminated in the profoundly weird LOST HIGHWAY and the profoundly lucrative THE SIXTH SENSE. Now, as audiences wade through pale imitations like THE MACHINIST and THE NUMBER 23, it's good to go back to the roots of this strange breed of movie. Those roots would be IMAGES.

IMAGES was a superflop upon release, and it's not hard to see why. With a bleak, dreary atmosphere, characters impossible to trust, and slow moody pacing, Altman wasn't trying to make the feel-good hit of the summer. Or even a film with stable logic-- every time a "rule" appears explaining what's going on, it's broken.

Is Cathryn going crazy? Is her husband and his friends playing tricks on her? Is she being visited by spirits? Are figures and scenes from an alternate universe crossing over into this one? Or is something sinister disturbing the flow of cause-and-effect reality? IMAGES poses all these questions, yet answers none of them. There are no "twists", no silly contrivances, no deus ex machina moments to save the day and explain everything. No. This is straight up cinematic insanity, something even the noblest of mind-bending flicks fail to achieve (with the exception of LOST HIGHWAY).

In the end, the audience is invited, by means of provocative images, to make sense of the film themselves. This is no easy task, which explains the godawful reviews bestowed at Cannes and in the American press. Over time, with a little help from David Lynch, audiences have gotten savvier at decoding nightmares of logic, and IMAGES has found its acclaim in an era where "Twin Peaks", "X-Files" and "Lost" make must-see TV, unthinkable decades ago.

The acting is superb. The cinematography is perfect, capturing an ultra-creepy visual mood that contemporary filmmakers (such as Gore Verbinski with THE RING) aspire to, but fall short. John Williams' (!) score is a major asset, with sound effects of all types punctuating the mood like an impressionist painting.

Depsite being clunky in parts, IMAGES is must-see film to appreciate the depth of Robert Altman, or complete your knowledge of mind-blowers.
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Heaven's Gate (1980)
5/10
If Cecil B. DeMille made art films...
19 April 2007
...they'd probably be better than this.

Towards the end of "Heaven's Gate", it dawned upon me that Michael Ciminio has no idea what his movie is about. Is it an epic adventure, a revisionist western, a character study, a snapshot of a historical period, a love story, a dramatic expose of corruption, an artful meditation on humanity? Cimino has no idea. He tries to make "Heaven's Gate" into all of these things, more or less failing.

It's not as if he was concerned about the damage this incoherence would do to the plot, characters, pacing, etc. The bottom line is SPECTACLE. The audience is supposed to be overwhelmed; by the epic subtext, cast of thousands, artistic lighting, the sheer money apparent on the screen. But any self-respecting viewer will tell you that being overwhelmed is not the same as being entertained.

Every scene presents a bare minimum of information to tell the story: There's a guy. We saw him before, I think. Now he's on a train. Now he's talking to somebody. Now he's mad. And so on. We get the gist of what's going on, with little clue why or how. Not that we care anyway, the characters are all constructed as supporting players to spectacle.

To make matters worse, every shot, scene, sequence, and subplot is about four times too long. There is one exception: the roller skating scene, filled with such energy and cinematic prowess that it seems tacked on from another picture. That alone was worth the price of admission. Almost.

Cimino has a relatively unimaginative style of direction, which appears standard on prime time TV. Yet Ciminio constantly gets lost in "fetishes", which apparently are dust, trains and horses. Dust is everywhere. Everywhere. Indoors, outdoors, in the middle of grassy fields. Sometimes there's so much dust you can't even see what's going on. Whenever a train appears, we are treated to beautiful, laborious shots that clog up the storyline. There are apparently less people in Johnson County than horses, who repeatedly hog the foreground. Even in the battle sequences. In fact, the dramatic scene at the end of Part I consists of horses riding off a train, obscured by dust. I'm serious.

This would be a film forgotten by time if it weren't for the titanic production misadventure that bankrupted an established movie studio, bringing the New Hollywood era down with it. Of course, "JAWS" and "Star Wars" are guilty too, but only in the best possible ways.

But "Heaven's Gate" is a sheer mess. Not a disaster, or an ostracized masterpiece. An unguided, absolute, sheer mess. Like T.S. Elliot, "This is the way the world ends/not with a bang but a whimper." It would feel a lot better if the age of the auteur that included "The Graduate", "Bonnie and Clyde", "2001", "The Godfather", "Taxi Driver", and "Apocalypse Now" had ended with a spectacular bomb.

But no. "Heaven's Gate" is Hollywood's whimper.
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4/10
Uneven, pretentious, and occasionally just bizarre
18 April 2007
So much has been thrown around about "Lady In The Water" that it's hard to cut through the discourse it's generated. The film itself is not as bad as you've heard, but it's not nearly as masterful as the fans claim.

We start off with an animated prologue worthy of Sunday-school class: knowing, somber, didactic. This kept my expectations mercifully low, probably why I'm giving it 4 stars instead of 1. The next 15 minutes of film is a collection of related scenes that might have passed from an forgotten Robert Altman film, had they been filmed with vitality or intelligence.

When the plot kicks it, "Lady In The Water" settles into its default mode: talking heads. People are on screen. We see their faces. They say something. Cut to another person. Their face. They say something. Cut back to the first... And so on. This isn't Chayefsky level dialogue. It's talk about Narfs, scrunts, rules, what happens when rules are broken... One hundred percent exposition. Many have commented that Shyamalan seems to be making up the rules as he goes along. I couldn't agree more. Believe it or not, this back and forth pseudo-profundity is the bulk of the movie.

By the time of the inevitable climax and credits, I walked away feeling very little for the characters. In fact, feeling very little at all (except being glad it was over). Why? Maybe, as the fans accuse, I'm a hardened old cynic who doesn't believe in fairy tales anymore. Eh, I doubt that. It's more that nothing in the film FEELS convincing. We believe in the characters, the silly plot because we're SUPPOSED to. Not because Cleveland is an endearing dude, or because Story makes a cool Sea Nymph. There are plot holes you can drive a truck through. We're supposed to ignore them: Why? Because we're supposed to "believe"! Duh!

To make things stranger, Shyamalan seems intent on deconstructing the film as it's playing out. Some moments (like Story on the walkie-talkie, nearly every time the Critic speaks,) are so bizarre they play like self-parody. It's almost as if Shyamalan knows how convoluted this all is, and really wants to rub it in. But in doing so he breaks the semblance of story logic he's worked so hard (ahem) to establish, threatening to turn an innocent bedtime story into a postmodern, Pynchoneseque nightmare of clashing codes. Unfortunately, he doesn't.

One of the most interesting aspects of LITW is the illusion of depth (not unlike a swimming pool at night. Heh.) Characters ramble about "meaning", "purpose", "God", etc. without saying anything important or meaningful. One common tactic Shyamalan uses is to throw out a New Age platitude whenever the plot starts to feel pointless. To someone reared on cinematic cotton candy, this must appear pretty deep indeed. For the rest of us.... let's just say that this is not Ingmar Bergman.

Much has been said about Shyamalan casting himself as an messianic writer, so I won't go into it in depth. I will say - dumb move. Really dumb.

To top things off, "Lady In The Water" looks boring. There are only a handful of shots that I thought looked intriguing, or even decent. The color scheme of badly lit. whites, greens, blues and browns is so overwhelming it makes a $75 million (!!) movie look like a student production. Where did the budget go?

This could have been a really cool movie. I mean it. If Shyamalan had either (a) constructed a believable, coherent fantasy world, or (b) upped the conflict between premodern myth and postmodern confusion, this might have been genuinely interesting. But the almighty Ego seems to have gotten in the way. In his quest for True Vision, the auteur has forgotten many of the essential elements of storytelling, leaving us with a threadbare plot held together with "Johnathan Livingston Seagull" clichés.

"Lady In The Water" joins the ranks of would-be masterpieces hindered by hubris, like "Heaven's Gate" and "1941" before it.
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Eraserhead (1977)
10/10
Lynch's gift to cinema
6 March 2007
The first time I heard about ERASERHEAD was as one of Stanley Kubrick's favorite films. That alone got me interested, but I was turned off when I read several reviews. It seemed to be weird for weird's sake, like a mash-up of BRAZIL and the FORBIDDEN ZONE.

After seeing MULHOLLAND DR., BLUE VELVET and DUNE, I was ready to accept David Lynch as a great moviemaker and storyteller. Biting the bullet, I found myself a copy of the film that had disgusted me a year and a half earlier.

Wow. From those first shots of Henry floating in space, to the enigmatic Man in the Planet sitting in his cramped little room, I was hooked. This wasn't a movie- this was an experience. I hadn't been this absorbed by any film since before middle school. When the credits flashed by to Fats Waller's gleeful music, I was shaken- in all the best possible ways.

You have to keep in mind that ERASERHEAD is a film aimed at the soul, not at the brain. Yes, not everything will be explained when the credits roll. In fact, most of the imagery isn't explained at all.

The story itself is deceptively simple, and not as inaccessible as most reviewers describe. Henry Spencer is an depressed man living in a world of abandoned factories, railyards, and mounds of dirt. His one-room apartment is a Lower East Side tenement from Hell. One evening his temptress neighbor tells him that his ex-girlfriend and her parents have invited him to dinner. This dinner turns out to be perversely awkward (like MEET THE PARENTS on acid), and it so happens that his ex has given birth to... something (imagine the offspring between a raptor from JURASSIC PARK and a human, except in fetal form). Henry is forced to marry his ex, and they live together in his apartment with the "baby". Revealing any more would take away from the fun.

The cinematography is amazingly beautiful. It seems Lynch and crew have discovered at least ten different variations of "black", making film-noir look like THE WIZARD OF OZ. The rumbling, everpresent soundtrack frequently shifts from sensually overwhelming to breathtaking. When the Lady in the Radiator (Henry's muse) sings "In heaven, everything is fine," you are both repulsed by her deformed face and enchanted by one of the most eerie songs in the cinematic universe.

It took a grand total of six years from getting financing to putting ERASERHEAD into theaters, and it all seems to have paid off. 1977 is best remembered for giving the world STAR WARS, the beginning of the end of the New Hollywood auteur era. But while studio execs were envisioning the profits of mass-marketed franchises, David Lynch was watching audiences vomit and literally run out of the theater (including the projectionist) at the premier of his first film.

Not because it was God-awful, but because it gets into people's heads the way very few other films can.
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Borat (2006)
8/10
very funny? yes. best comedy of all time? no.
28 October 2006
Warning: Spoilers
It's hard to watch a movie like "Borat" when the hype is as unbelievable as it's gotten. When fanboys and critics alike are foaming at the mouth, you either expect a masterpiece or a 90-minute administration of rabies. "Borat" is mostly the former.

I need to note that "Borat" is not for the easily offended, either by sex, obscenity, political incorrectness, or just plain mean-spiritedness. (I happen to be a Zappa fanboy, so I myself handle near anything. :-) If you can take that, then you'll likely find "Borat" to be a great popcorn flick, albeit with popcorn flying out of your nose from laughing.

Everyone likely knows the premise by now. Borat and his TV producer are drawn out of their backwater Kazakhstani village to document American culture, but things get skrewy when Borat falls in love with Pamela Anderson, leading to a wacky road trip across the southern US that we've seen 14,761 times before.

The difference this time is that Borat is very ignorant, very enthusiastic, and very randy Third-Word eurasiatrash. He often acts like an 11-year old kid who's just discovered that the adult world of social roles and sex exists, with disastrously inappropriate consequences. He's also extremely anti-Semetic, anti-Muslim and anti-Gypsy, although this doesn't quite jive with the rest of his (ig)Noble Savage shtick. Blame it on his culture.

Truth be told, the first three quarters or so is hilarious. The scenes in Kazakhstan and New York are very fresh and very, very, irreverent, all in the best ways. It's hard to know the "status" of all the people he interacts with (some are obviously plants, some are apparently playing along by feeding him lines, and some are totally ignorant of what's going on). It brings up all sorts of issues of consent on the observer's part. In some cases, that's quite disturbing. But that would require too much thought for this film, so I'll move on.

Unfortunately, some person as ignorant of screen writing as Borat is of "pusse-magnets" decided to give the film a "plot", by causing Borat to lose his cash, meet a good-hearted prostitute straight out of central casting, and fall out with his producer. As soon as this happens, Borat ceases to be poignant social satire and becomes "Borat: Kazakh Son Of Pink Panther". I believe they secretly hired Blake Edwards to direct the dinner party, antique shop, and hotel scenes, as they reek of his trademark cartoon slapstick cum shock factor. Incidentally, most people consider these to be their favorite scenes. Maybe I'm just a snob who thinks "Fargo" did a much more funny job of a fight between naked men. ("Hey, smoke a f***in' peace pipe!")

After Edwards was called back to his retirement home, it appears Baron Cohen and crew realized that they had repeated the same premises ad infinitum and were rapidly running out of ideas. So they tidy up by having Borat realize the sorrowful truth of Anderson's virginity status, hence becoming depressed. Then, in a corny deus ex machina, he wakes up in front of a Pentecostal church on Sunday morning! Borat becomes a born-again Christian and forgives Pamela for all her wrongdoings. Praise be to Mr. Jesus! (This scene was disturbingly sweet, and there was uproarious laughter in the theater, not at Borat's conversion, but at the "weird" behavior of the Pentecostals. To me, this was the meanest, most stupidly biased moment of all.)

After that, things get pretty boring. There is a brilliant line during a fight on Hollywood Blvd, but that's too good to share. Then it ends.

So there's "Borat". The MySpace, YouTube audience, who laughs at anything "ironic" and "out there" will pee their pants with glee at this politically incorrect "Napoleon Dynamite" meets "Pee Wee's Big Adventure". I can't blame them; they've grown up with such crappy, unentertaining media that anything not quite in the norm, even if it's corporately glossed from head to tail, seems "subversive."

But to the rest of us, "Borat" is just kinda there. Yes, it does have an overt liberal bias. Yes, it is shot "reality style", with painful cinematography and a plot so hoary it never would have gotten greenlighted without Baron Cohen. But is it "shocking"?

Well, if the mere presence of male genitals or bigots offends you, yes. If your idea of a shocking comedy is more along the lines of "Dr. Strangelove" or "Network" or like "Pink Flamingos", then it doesn't come close. In fact, "Borat" doesn't have a subversive bone in its body, despite all the controversy that follows it.

Does it make you think? Not really, unless you consider that some of the targets were real cheap (gun salesmen? c'mon.) or that some people didn't deserve to get humiliated. Anyone who claims that "Borat" intends to make the audience question their inert biases as Americans is giving it too much credit. It's likely claiming "Jackass 2" is an assessment of virility versus puerility, with the horse semen scene as the crux of the argument. Sacha Baron Cohen isn't in the business to be a philosopher, and 20th Century Fox certainly isn't.

But do you laugh? Yes. To some, that's all that matters.
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5/10
disappointing
9 October 2006
Warning: Spoilers
I tend not to be disappointed by films, since I usually have an intuitive sense on whether it will be good or not. But "Viktor Vogel" ,or as it's known in the States, "Advertising Rules!" (??) really let me down.

For the first two thirds, I was really into the movie, even though the melodrama was typical and the main conflict was telegraphed from about 500 miles away. The situations were amusing. The characters were likable. It seemed to bring up some good points about the nature of consumerism and the purpose of one's life, which is more than you can ask from any given American film. But the last third slowed down significantly, and suddenly I became very bored. The ending, however, blew me away, in the worst possible way.

I imagine the filmmakers standing around the set with a deadline looming and an incomplete script:

"Man, I don't know how to end this damn movie! How are we supposed to solve the conflict? It's so huge!"

"Well, let's have really random things come out of nowhere so the audience will go, 'Hey, that makes me think!' And then we'll end it right there, with no explanation as to what happened in the last five minutes."

Don't get me wrong, I love weird, funky twists and weird, funky movies, but "Viktor Vogel" was not able to pull it off. It was like a pilot for a network comedy, only for the last ten minutes to be written by David Lynch at 2 AM, who had not read the beginning of the script.

Enjoy it for what it is, but don't get your hopes up that it gets tied together at the end.

5/10
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