Reviews

Michael Moore is a self-admitted propagandist. He's the Leni Riefenstal of the smug liberals. He's got something to say and the vehicle with which to say it. I'm not questioning his right to a political opinion, I'm not doubting his sincerity in getting his message heard. My beef is with Michael Moore the filmmaker, Michael Moore the documentarian. This film (as a film not a political statement or message) is a terrible film. It's a good half hour too long. It's use of funny little nods to the TV generations savvy (Bonanza) is insulting not only to the people who are profiled in the film but also to those watching it. But you know something? I could get over all that if he didn't consistently take the low road and mock the very people he's profiling. (I'm not talking about the Bush administration here--I'm talking about the ordinary people like Lila Lipscomb and the soldiers he interviews). He did it in Roger and Me, I'm sure he did it in Bowling for Columbine (I couldn't bear to watch that one), and he does it again here. He acts like he is much smarter, cooler and "in the know" than the people he's speaking to and he edits the living daylights out of his footage to make them all look like idiots. If he is trying to make the point that the poor, disenfranchised youth of America are fighting the war for the big, bad politicians (and believe you me, that is one of his points), then he would be much better served if he didn't make fun of them by editing their words thematically. Let me explain. He thinks it's amusing to interview soliders and ask them what music they listen to when they're "working". He then uses these clips strung together to paint a very unflattering picture of the very soldiers he asks you to feel sorry for a half an hour later in the film. The soldiers may very well be pawns in the industrial military complex. Does that mean they have to be pawns in a Michael Moore film, too?

It is very unfortunate that this film will line the pockets of Michael Moore and even more unfortunate that people will be swayed by its themes into thinking it's a good film. Come awards season, we'll no doubt have to see Mr. Moore's large, disheveled self pontificating from on high. I'm thinking of taking a trip to Saudi Arabia around the end of February just so I don't have to watch.

I had heard about the controversy surrounding The Brown Bunny (who hadn't?)--the feud with Roger Ebert, the graphic sex scene--so when I received an invitation to a press screening, I jumped at the chance to see what the trailer calls "the most controversial American film ever made". What the trailer and all the hype didn't prepare me for was the fact that The Brown Bunny could also be considered one of the most original American films ever made. In a time of overblown budgets and enormous productions with endless crew lists, Vincent Gallo has almost single-handedly made a concise, well-thought out, conceptual film--a poignant, touching love story. It's not often that a director's second film is more daring than his first--money, greed and Hollywood power seem too tempting to most and sophomore efforts usually represent the big sell out. Not so The Brown Bunny, not so Gallo the iconoclast. He manages to make a second film more interesting, more intimate, more revealing and more memorable than his first. And he manages to do it outside the system.

Gallo's instincts as a director are spot-on. Not only does he pull from Chloe Sevigny the performance of her career, he also solicits from a cast of complete unknowns and non-actors (including Cheryl Tiegs) painfully believable performances. I have always thought his talents as an actor were underrated, but surely The Brown Bunny will provide him his due as Bud Clay, a motorcycle racer undergoing a breakdown while driving across the country. Simply put, Gallo as Bud is devastating. At one point during the film, I was so tense watching him fall apart that I realized that I had been holding my breath through the entire scene. When you stop to think that he is also directing himself and directing the photography, it's that much more impressive.

I don't know how someone circumvents the Hollywood system to make a movie in this day and age, but it seems that Gallo has not only done that, but done it in a way that is memorable, haunting and visually stunning. This is a truly radical film made by a very courageous filmmaker, someone willing to tell a story, tell it honestly and suffer the consequences of his convictions. Pasolini would be proud.

OK, first of all, I should mention that I went to this movie not because I wanted to see it, but because I was with two friends and it was one of those situations where someone had seen every other film playing at the right time of day and basically it was the "compromise" film we could all agree on. I was happily prepared to blame my friends for making me waste my time and money on a film that I should by all rights hate. You see, I detest Jim Carrey. And even more than how much I dislike Jim Carrey, I abhor the untalented and overrated Charlie Kaufman. But there I was, at the $14 a ticket Arclight in Hollywood, watching a film written by a hack, starring a buffoon. Don't tell me you liked Adaptation. Susan Orlean wrote an article in the New Yorker which was inflated into a book despite the fact that there was barely enough story for a magazine article. (The book was a snooze.) Then Charlie Kaufman turns it into a movie about a guy who can't adapt a book--yeah, because the book sucked. So then he resorts to adding wildly unbelievable plot twists to get himself out of the corner he's painted himself into. Just like Being John Malkovich. Another movie that was watchable for about 20 minutes before it all fell apart. But I digress.

I'm a fan of Michel Gondry's video work--that Lucas with the Lid Off video was incredible at the time and so was the Rolling Stones one. But I've been disappointed many, many times when watching a video director's attempts at making a full-length feature (Mark Romanek's One Hour Photo and Jonas Akerlund's Spun are two that instantly come to mind) because the visual trickery that is interesting in a music video is never a substitute for plot or character or storytelling or soul in a film. So, I didn't really hold such high hopes in the directorial department either.

Man, was I surprised when Jim Carrey didn't completely annoy me as Joel. I mean, sure, he's got his moments, and maybe it was the editing of his performance, but he's not his usual over-the-top ungracious self. And I was blown away by Kate Winslet as Clementine of the ever-changing hair color who I'd formerly been known to call (in my head only) "Fatty, Fatty Kate Winslet" after seeing her in the drivelous Titanic and the tear jerkery Iris. In fact, I was so blown away that I actually like her now and would never dream of calling her anything but beautiful. Sure, the plot is unbelievable and hokey and Kirsten Dunst is completely without talent and pumpkinheaded in the role of Mary, but there's something about the coolness of the--dare I admit it--visual trickery that kept me entertained and buying the whole concept of the story. Kaufman's story doesn't unravel this time. (Or at least not as much as in the past).

This film is worth seeing just for the CGI effects alone. (Kate Winslet being the other reason to see it). I had to wonder many times just exactly how on earth Gondry pulled off some of those effects. And don't think I figured it out--I wouldn't have the first clue. But it did make for an interesting film and one well worth the ungodly $14 I shelled out to see it.

For the life of me, I can't figure out why someone doesn't put this film out on DVD or video. Puzzle of a Downfall Child is a hauntingly spare film about the breakdown of beauty. Although less well known than The Panic in Needle Park, it is Jerry Schatzberg's masterpiece. His use of non-linear storytelling coupled with some incredibly dreamy flashback sequences made me feel as if, like heroine Lou Sands, I too was coming slightly undone. For Faye Dunaway fans (and really who isn't a fan of Faye's?), this film showcases not only her incredible beauty--the eyelashes are to die for--but also her talents as an actress. She is more believable as an actress portraying a model than any model portraying an actress could ever hope to be. If it should ever make its way to an art-house near you, you will do yourself a disservice if you miss it. After I left the theater, I kept thinking of that trite adage about how they don't make them like they used to.