There Will Be...............Questions for Old Men
As Denzel Washington read the names of the nominees for Best Picture at the 2008 Oscars Awards it was clear in the minds of those watching that although five movies would be mentioned, the competition lay firmly between Coen Brother’s No Country for Old Men and Paul Anderson’s There Will Be Blood. These exhibited masterful craftsmanship by their directors and actors that earned the respect and praise of the Academy. Although they tell different stories they have more in common however than nominations and level of praise, enough at least to argue that their rivalry was less of a coincidence and more out of attraction for the style employed by the movie’s plots.
An important factor that made these two movies distinguishable is that they blur the lines between protagonist and antagonist, either wedging both into the same character or harmonizing the appeal between hero and villain so closely that as the film concludes the audience is no longer sure if the good guys won or not; because who the hell were the good guys anyways and why are they supposed to win? Did anyone win?
Perhaps it is the unconventional portrayal of good and evil that is daunting.
Protagonist, Daniel Plainsview is no hero; instead he is an alcoholic, limping, grief stricken by the pain he has caused his son and embalming himself with his hatred for the entire world as if it is a quality he needs to survive. Whatever good that comes from him is either garnered by someone else’s good intentions or tainted by the real motivations that lie behind it. Although it is to him that our sympathies first go to and his story that we follow, there seems to be nothing protagonistic about him by the end of the film.
Antagonist Anton Chigurh embodies a calm, collected almost peaceful attitude; imperfect and yet invincible, stoic and yet reaping satisfaction from his work. His notion of justice is decided by the chaos of chance and it is by chance that Chirgurh has to pay at all. He suffers only a gun shot wound, a broken bone and some scrapes; a small price to pay for enormity his crimes. Although his position as antagonist doesn’t change during the film, whatever protagonists there are end up killed by Mexicans or retire, never making a final stand. Without anyone to challenge him it would seem he has won but bloodied and on the run, his escape hardly feels victorious and the reality is that we never really do find out what Chigurh’s ultimate motivations were or even why he is so violent.
What we do know however is that this character shares the same appeal as say Hannibal Lector, Mr. Brooks and other flawless-like murderers who have been depicted in relatively protagonistic roles. He isn’t the “good guy” in the movie, but as he spares the life of the old man at the gas station in such a child-like and playful manner, a more comical and merciful side of him appears. While the escape of a murderer is by its nature a bad thing, the appeal that his character has softens the negative connotations of the ending of the movie and makes his escape acceptable to the audience.
What all this means is that these two films leave the audience confused because the endings not only transcend the normal “good guys win and bad guys lose” doctrine but also the “bad guys win, good guys lose” doctrine. By the end of each story, even though time has passed and many events have taken place, it feels like the characters have moved backwards instead of forwards; that nothing has been accomplished that helped anyone at all.
In the shadows of the monuments of praise heralded to both these films were the complaints of non-climactic endings that left the audience without that final wholesome message relieving the viewers from the cruelties exposed to them and then dwarfing those cruelties with a righteous victory that rises from the ashes of torment, compensates all injustices and ultimately defines the movie with a positive spin.
The job of final judgment is ceded to our imaginations. Whereas Hollywood has generally shelled out happy ending standards that give positive flavor to cinema, the satisfaction that is usually granted is withheld and the audience is forced retreat and search the rest of the movie for the meaning and truth.
If you combined the ideologues from both these films to make an imaginary world view it would say: “Justice is an illusion and should be left to chance, rules are there to make us creative about the way we take around them, family is either a means to an end or a liability and life is not a fairy tale.” It is not a happy message, nor is it really right or wrong. But since when was it supposed to be?
Monday, March 10, 2008
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Seattle Times Article on Violence in Entertainment
Misha Berson tries to explain why it is that people have no problem watching violence on a stage but then recoil at the thought of violence in cinema. In doing this she makes a few important and frequently revised points. It is obvious that violence in a movie can be more realistically portrayed on the big screen (given all the special effects available to them in contrast with live theater). But the bigger point is that many people believe that the attraction to violence in entertainment comes from peoples desire to vent out their violent desires in a socially acceptable and peaceful manner.
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/movies/2004251289_violence020.html
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/movies/2004251289_violence020.html
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Proposal
This year at the Oscars there were two well-praised movies that stood out that shared similar styles. These are No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood. Comparing the two by looking at their success and the similar properties that helped them get there, I would like to write a critical essay about what their popularity says about our culture.
Both films exhibit dark violent moods that seem to appeal to the audience. They both have main characters whose priorities lie in obtaining and maintaining power. In addition family, money, and religion/philosophy are all factors that influence each movie and each character in the movie. Finally both movies end abruptly. There are no fairy tale endings in either the movies. Instead there is a finality in which both movies seem to end almost exactly as they started, nothing really resolved and quite a few people dead.
Using these defining characteristics as context, what do these movies say about our society?
Both films exhibit dark violent moods that seem to appeal to the audience. They both have main characters whose priorities lie in obtaining and maintaining power. In addition family, money, and religion/philosophy are all factors that influence each movie and each character in the movie. Finally both movies end abruptly. There are no fairy tale endings in either the movies. Instead there is a finality in which both movies seem to end almost exactly as they started, nothing really resolved and quite a few people dead.
Using these defining characteristics as context, what do these movies say about our society?
Monday, February 25, 2008
Hope at the Oscars
Leave the happy endings to Hollywood. Never mind the writer’s strike that lasted months and cost Hollywood billions. Had it not been for Jon Stewart’s comical references it would seem almost as if nothing had ever happened. And who better to pull off such a stunt than an auditorium full of actors, directors, playwrights, comedians and the like?
Hosting once again, Jon Stewart quickly defined the 80th Annual Oscars calling it the writer’s strike “make-up sex”. His light-hearted comedy seemed to make up for the heavy feeling that hung over Hollywood in the previous months. Both quick and witty, Stewart improvised throughout the show; consciously providing a mistranslation of Javier Bardem’s Spanish to “I believe he told his mother where the library was.” Even cueing the orchestra after one of the commercial breaks, Jon Stewart should be commended.
Afraid that the writer’s strike would extend past the Oscars, the Academy had prepared video clips that recalled famous Oscar moments and decided to use them regardless. The effect was a nostalgic recap of Oscar history that seemed to remind everyone there what they were fighting to preserve.
The Oscars awarded were carefully sprinkled out amongst a large number of movies but a few stood out. No Country for Old Men seemed to pull out on top taking best picture, best adapted screenplay, best director, much appreciated by the famous Coen brothers and best supporting actor for the proud Javier Bardem. But There Will be Blood’s British star Daniel Day-Lewis grabbed best actor and La Vie en Rose’s French star Marion Cotillard grabbed best Actress. Interesting to notice is that the European crowd won many of the awards this year. Taken aback, even Tilda Swinton from Scotland took best supporting actress for Michael Clayton.
Perhaps the most humble to receive an Oscar were Irish Glen Hansard and Czech Market Irglova with best original song; “Falling Slowly”, performed beautifully by them onstage. Cut off before she could give her acceptance speech, and she wasn’t the only one, Jon Stewart took advantage of his hosting powers in a touching moment to allow her to return to the stage and say a few words.
In the absence of the strike something else took hold. In between the random shots of Jack Nicholson smiling in his sunglasses and the clips of Cher’s spectacular costumes there was a feeling of hope for the future. Memories of the writer’s strike and the obvious European failed to tarnish the feeling of communal pride because as Market Irglova wisely noted: “hope at the end of the day connects us all, not matter how different we are”.
Hosting once again, Jon Stewart quickly defined the 80th Annual Oscars calling it the writer’s strike “make-up sex”. His light-hearted comedy seemed to make up for the heavy feeling that hung over Hollywood in the previous months. Both quick and witty, Stewart improvised throughout the show; consciously providing a mistranslation of Javier Bardem’s Spanish to “I believe he told his mother where the library was.” Even cueing the orchestra after one of the commercial breaks, Jon Stewart should be commended.
Afraid that the writer’s strike would extend past the Oscars, the Academy had prepared video clips that recalled famous Oscar moments and decided to use them regardless. The effect was a nostalgic recap of Oscar history that seemed to remind everyone there what they were fighting to preserve.
The Oscars awarded were carefully sprinkled out amongst a large number of movies but a few stood out. No Country for Old Men seemed to pull out on top taking best picture, best adapted screenplay, best director, much appreciated by the famous Coen brothers and best supporting actor for the proud Javier Bardem. But There Will be Blood’s British star Daniel Day-Lewis grabbed best actor and La Vie en Rose’s French star Marion Cotillard grabbed best Actress. Interesting to notice is that the European crowd won many of the awards this year. Taken aback, even Tilda Swinton from Scotland took best supporting actress for Michael Clayton.
Perhaps the most humble to receive an Oscar were Irish Glen Hansard and Czech Market Irglova with best original song; “Falling Slowly”, performed beautifully by them onstage. Cut off before she could give her acceptance speech, and she wasn’t the only one, Jon Stewart took advantage of his hosting powers in a touching moment to allow her to return to the stage and say a few words.
In the absence of the strike something else took hold. In between the random shots of Jack Nicholson smiling in his sunglasses and the clips of Cher’s spectacular costumes there was a feeling of hope for the future. Memories of the writer’s strike and the obvious European failed to tarnish the feeling of communal pride because as Market Irglova wisely noted: “hope at the end of the day connects us all, not matter how different we are”.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Defense of "Set Your Tasers on Slo-mo Wipeout" by Mike Hale
Mike Hale’s review of “Unbeatable Banzuke” is a well paced, clear cut, simple article. Going into the background from where Banzuke originated, Hale provides easy context for Americans to understand the show: by comparing it to Jackass.
Although Hale seems to lean on the rave side with a “but” early in the article, his position remains ambiguous. The only argument he really makes is that Banzuke is about as good as Jackass and only abandons his neutrality on the subject to keep Banzuke in parallel with Jackass.
Maybe not everyone would be satisfied with this comparison, but Hale politely explains the similarities and also the differences between these two similar shows; a healthy compare and contrast. By doing so the reader gets two things:
Firstly, by comparing the article to Jackass, Hale has allowed the assumption that if someone doesn’t like Jackass, they probably won’t like Banzuke and that is useful for a reader who will now not waste his time on a show he won’t enjoy. Secondly by contrasting the shows he has allowed the reader who does like jackass to use that as a standard that he can grade Banzuke from. The result is an article that is of practical use to any reader who is interested in the show.
p.s. i couldnt find the link but its in monday's paper, page B10.
Although Hale seems to lean on the rave side with a “but” early in the article, his position remains ambiguous. The only argument he really makes is that Banzuke is about as good as Jackass and only abandons his neutrality on the subject to keep Banzuke in parallel with Jackass.
Maybe not everyone would be satisfied with this comparison, but Hale politely explains the similarities and also the differences between these two similar shows; a healthy compare and contrast. By doing so the reader gets two things:
Firstly, by comparing the article to Jackass, Hale has allowed the assumption that if someone doesn’t like Jackass, they probably won’t like Banzuke and that is useful for a reader who will now not waste his time on a show he won’t enjoy. Secondly by contrasting the shows he has allowed the reader who does like jackass to use that as a standard that he can grade Banzuke from. The result is an article that is of practical use to any reader who is interested in the show.
p.s. i couldnt find the link but its in monday's paper, page B10.
Monday, February 18, 2008
It’s Enough
When the Whole Arts Theatre decided to put on a production of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? they probably already understood that the resources available to them would not compare in scale or grandeur to many previous productions of the play.
This is a reality that many smaller theatres face. Instead of working to make the most glorious version of a well known play, the goal is to put on a production that can remind the audience of the play’s glory and to remind the audience of the entertainment that a live, in the round theatre performance can provide.
Edward Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? debuted on stage in 1962, before being made into a movie in 1966. It is the story of a maddened couple, George and Martha, and the time they spend entertaining young couple, Nick and Honey, in their home for a “nightcap.” The older couple, heavily inebriated, tantalizingly drags them through the issues of their tumultuous relationship. During the course of the evening, Nick and Honey’s own problems surface, wreaking emotional havoc amongst four people so wacky and intense that the only natural response seems to be to squirm in your seat—or join in on the drinking.
Richard Philpot and Martie Philpot, George and Martha, respectively, beautifully execute their characters. Maybe their offstage marriage contributes to the chemistry that produces their vicious and violent arguments. But the Philpots consistently outperform both Carol Zombro as Honey, and Trevor Maher as Nick, in tact and execution.
The Philpot’s seemed to have found their characters making their performances appear far more natural than those of Nick and Honey.
While Honey is definitely supposed to be drunk for a good deal of the play, Ms. Zombro’s choice of facial and corporeal expressions instead misleads that audience to conclude that Honey has developed some sort of severe mental handicap in the course of the evening. What is really supposed to be a role that is comical alternatively turns into a role that makes little sense in the play and evokes pity rather than laughter.
Mr. Maher is more in touch with his character, acting within the frame of sanity, but with both hands waiting at his side like a quick draw cowboy, many of his lines were delivered quickly and missed their target. Precariously smoking a cigarette, the audience practically holds their breathe to see if he will choke or continue to deliver his lines.
It seems that the younger cast was chosen based more on availability than merit and this is all well because the only disappointment available is for the people who go to the play and expect a performance as great as Elizabeth Taylor’s. Given the scale of production and price of the show, Ms. Zombro’s and Mr. Maher’s performances’ are not exactly reprehensible and with the Philpot’s performance, it is enough to call this a successful local production.
This is a reality that many smaller theatres face. Instead of working to make the most glorious version of a well known play, the goal is to put on a production that can remind the audience of the play’s glory and to remind the audience of the entertainment that a live, in the round theatre performance can provide.
Edward Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? debuted on stage in 1962, before being made into a movie in 1966. It is the story of a maddened couple, George and Martha, and the time they spend entertaining young couple, Nick and Honey, in their home for a “nightcap.” The older couple, heavily inebriated, tantalizingly drags them through the issues of their tumultuous relationship. During the course of the evening, Nick and Honey’s own problems surface, wreaking emotional havoc amongst four people so wacky and intense that the only natural response seems to be to squirm in your seat—or join in on the drinking.
Richard Philpot and Martie Philpot, George and Martha, respectively, beautifully execute their characters. Maybe their offstage marriage contributes to the chemistry that produces their vicious and violent arguments. But the Philpots consistently outperform both Carol Zombro as Honey, and Trevor Maher as Nick, in tact and execution.
The Philpot’s seemed to have found their characters making their performances appear far more natural than those of Nick and Honey.
While Honey is definitely supposed to be drunk for a good deal of the play, Ms. Zombro’s choice of facial and corporeal expressions instead misleads that audience to conclude that Honey has developed some sort of severe mental handicap in the course of the evening. What is really supposed to be a role that is comical alternatively turns into a role that makes little sense in the play and evokes pity rather than laughter.
Mr. Maher is more in touch with his character, acting within the frame of sanity, but with both hands waiting at his side like a quick draw cowboy, many of his lines were delivered quickly and missed their target. Precariously smoking a cigarette, the audience practically holds their breathe to see if he will choke or continue to deliver his lines.
It seems that the younger cast was chosen based more on availability than merit and this is all well because the only disappointment available is for the people who go to the play and expect a performance as great as Elizabeth Taylor’s. Given the scale of production and price of the show, Ms. Zombro’s and Mr. Maher’s performances’ are not exactly reprehensible and with the Philpot’s performance, it is enough to call this a successful local production.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Review of “In Treatment” for the Gazette
“In treatment” is very similar to what it would be like if anyone could spy on patients while they talked to their shrinks. In fact it’s probably about just as good or better because you don’t have to feel guilty about it, because in this case it’s legal and because your couch is probably more comfortable than anywhere you might have spied from.
Adhering so far to juicy sexual, emotional, gut wrenching and controversial issues, the series focuses around the work of psychoanalyst Paul Weston, played by Gabriel Byrne, who seems to be “in treatment” himself. His sessions vary widely in tone and topic; Laura with love trouble, Alex with guilt trouble, Sophie with sanity trouble and Jake and Mary with abortion trouble.
This unlikely mesh of people has at least one thing in common however. They all seem to be at war with Paul in every session, forcing him to fight for every psychological victory. This seems to be the form in which Paul’s own problems are manifesting themselves, where he was once able to preserve his patience with his patients (a pun used in the show). Frustration building, he decides to visit Gina an old friend and supervising colleague, who he hasn’t seen in ten years, to see if she can explain his professional downturn. In this way ‘In Treatment’ is different from the everyday psychology session because; what does therapy really mean anymore when the psychoanalyst is the one that is being analyzed?
Well, psychoanalysis isn’t the same as regular psychology. Psychoanalysis is Sigmund Freud’s approach in psychology which works on the basis that people have sabotaging thoughts and mental processes that they are not conscious of and which will continue to weak havoc unless brought to light in “treatment”. So it would make sense that Paul, apparently making the same mistake as his patients, would have to go see another person to figure out his problems right? Maybe, but it’s so interesting to be in the mind of the psychologist for a change that it doesn’t really matter.
“In Treatment” should really be called “In therapy.” It is closer to the truth. “Treatment” sounds so civilized, like the application of a band aid to a wound. But therapy can better express the mood of the show, because behind Paul’s calm face, the pretty furniture and apparent scientific methodological approach there is a wave of conflict and tension that practically emanates from the TV screen. Every patient seems to represent an almost barbaric nature and with every response Paul is forced to rally back with the proper civilized nature that masks the surfacing emotions that he is scared he can’t control anymore. Watching “In Treatment” is really like indulging in a guilty pleasure that normally wouldn’t be permitted. It may be a just a show but it has all the realness that one could hope for and a few more perks to it to boot.
Adhering so far to juicy sexual, emotional, gut wrenching and controversial issues, the series focuses around the work of psychoanalyst Paul Weston, played by Gabriel Byrne, who seems to be “in treatment” himself. His sessions vary widely in tone and topic; Laura with love trouble, Alex with guilt trouble, Sophie with sanity trouble and Jake and Mary with abortion trouble.
This unlikely mesh of people has at least one thing in common however. They all seem to be at war with Paul in every session, forcing him to fight for every psychological victory. This seems to be the form in which Paul’s own problems are manifesting themselves, where he was once able to preserve his patience with his patients (a pun used in the show). Frustration building, he decides to visit Gina an old friend and supervising colleague, who he hasn’t seen in ten years, to see if she can explain his professional downturn. In this way ‘In Treatment’ is different from the everyday psychology session because; what does therapy really mean anymore when the psychoanalyst is the one that is being analyzed?
Well, psychoanalysis isn’t the same as regular psychology. Psychoanalysis is Sigmund Freud’s approach in psychology which works on the basis that people have sabotaging thoughts and mental processes that they are not conscious of and which will continue to weak havoc unless brought to light in “treatment”. So it would make sense that Paul, apparently making the same mistake as his patients, would have to go see another person to figure out his problems right? Maybe, but it’s so interesting to be in the mind of the psychologist for a change that it doesn’t really matter.
“In Treatment” should really be called “In therapy.” It is closer to the truth. “Treatment” sounds so civilized, like the application of a band aid to a wound. But therapy can better express the mood of the show, because behind Paul’s calm face, the pretty furniture and apparent scientific methodological approach there is a wave of conflict and tension that practically emanates from the TV screen. Every patient seems to represent an almost barbaric nature and with every response Paul is forced to rally back with the proper civilized nature that masks the surfacing emotions that he is scared he can’t control anymore. Watching “In Treatment” is really like indulging in a guilty pleasure that normally wouldn’t be permitted. It may be a just a show but it has all the realness that one could hope for and a few more perks to it to boot.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Oscar Wilde
In The Critic as Artist, Oscar Wilde is trying to make the point that the critic is even more creative than the creator himself. Maybe this is out of an arrogant zeal that he possessed for his own profession but regardless there is wisdom to be heeded in his words.
Wilde points out that if you write beautifully enough there will be a scarcity of those who would disagree with it because to do so would be to deny the beauty that exists in your words. The mere fact that what is written is related to a subject that the reader is interested in appears like a cherry on top of an already decked out hot fudge Sunday of pleasant and poetic word combinations with hot fudge on top. He explains art as aesthetical, not a surprise given his background in aesthetic movement. He explains highest criticism to be dealing with art as impressive rather than expressive. This make perfect sense because as a writer your criticisms are really are your impression. The way the art is expressed does affect your impression, but ultimately it is not what your criticism should be about.
Wilde points out that if you write beautifully enough there will be a scarcity of those who would disagree with it because to do so would be to deny the beauty that exists in your words. The mere fact that what is written is related to a subject that the reader is interested in appears like a cherry on top of an already decked out hot fudge Sunday of pleasant and poetic word combinations with hot fudge on top. He explains art as aesthetical, not a surprise given his background in aesthetic movement. He explains highest criticism to be dealing with art as impressive rather than expressive. This make perfect sense because as a writer your criticisms are really are your impression. The way the art is expressed does affect your impression, but ultimately it is not what your criticism should be about.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Pauline Kael
There as always been controversy over the criticisms that have been provided by Pauline Kael during her time as a weekly movie critic for The New Yorker. As a critic, Ms. Kael used movies to show “us the work of art in some new relation to our age”, as Oscar Wilde put it. Pauline herself stated “I was often accused of writing about everything but the movie.”
It is true that Pauline experimented with the boarders between movie critic and social critic, the boarders between what type of film should or shouldn’t be reviewed (Deep Throat); there are really few barriers in critical writing that Ms. Kael did not confront. An explorer in the field of movie critics, she had no particular movie preferences and could easily stomach and enjoy even lowbrow comedy.
But looking closely at her reviews and at her interview in Afterglow, where she describes some of the reasoning behind her work, there are a lot of movies that have done quite well that she has panned (American Beauty, Star Wars) and gone against the crowd, and then there are other films which seemed like they deserved less credit but received more.
It is complicated to keep track of what Ms. Kael’s taste is because it may revolve more around the social context that the movie is platformed on than the movie itself. Top Gun was seen as homoerotic instead of the classic, and Hiroshima Mon Amour, positively heralded throughout the media, was suggested by Ms. Kael to be the educated audience’s “wish fulfillment in the form of cheap and easy congratulation on their sensitivities and their liberalism,” but Barbra Streisand’s Funny Girl was given a “Bravo!” Perhaps an understanding of her opinion will always elude us.
It is evident that a great deal of actors, directors and movie-goers will not agree with her opinion and that is okay because the success of a critic is not measured by the degree of accuracy they have to the general public’s opinion or to the actual truth. Pauline Kael did a superb job of what Oscar Wilde calls “setting a mood.”
This, he explains, is what art is about and this is what Ms. Kael was great at. She would take a film, decide if she liked it or not, figure out the social context that it represented and then as Adler says “Then there began to be quirks, mannerism, in particular in certain compulsive and joyless naughtiness.”
Pauline Kael was daring, naughty, fun, pretentious, witty, and had a unique taste in movies perhaps only perfectly compatible with Francis Davis. Her vast reserves of knowledge about movies that are forgotten today, the movies of the sixties, seventies, eighties, may grant her some insight into films that escapes the rest of us. Ms. Kael had practically become a film Guru. It showed that she loved her medium and was happy to write about it with a creativity that spawned from her genuine criticism and did what a movie critic’s job is anyways. Ms. Kael entertained her readers, not matter what.
It is true that Pauline experimented with the boarders between movie critic and social critic, the boarders between what type of film should or shouldn’t be reviewed (Deep Throat); there are really few barriers in critical writing that Ms. Kael did not confront. An explorer in the field of movie critics, she had no particular movie preferences and could easily stomach and enjoy even lowbrow comedy.
But looking closely at her reviews and at her interview in Afterglow, where she describes some of the reasoning behind her work, there are a lot of movies that have done quite well that she has panned (American Beauty, Star Wars) and gone against the crowd, and then there are other films which seemed like they deserved less credit but received more.
It is complicated to keep track of what Ms. Kael’s taste is because it may revolve more around the social context that the movie is platformed on than the movie itself. Top Gun was seen as homoerotic instead of the classic, and Hiroshima Mon Amour, positively heralded throughout the media, was suggested by Ms. Kael to be the educated audience’s “wish fulfillment in the form of cheap and easy congratulation on their sensitivities and their liberalism,” but Barbra Streisand’s Funny Girl was given a “Bravo!” Perhaps an understanding of her opinion will always elude us.
It is evident that a great deal of actors, directors and movie-goers will not agree with her opinion and that is okay because the success of a critic is not measured by the degree of accuracy they have to the general public’s opinion or to the actual truth. Pauline Kael did a superb job of what Oscar Wilde calls “setting a mood.”
This, he explains, is what art is about and this is what Ms. Kael was great at. She would take a film, decide if she liked it or not, figure out the social context that it represented and then as Adler says “Then there began to be quirks, mannerism, in particular in certain compulsive and joyless naughtiness.”
Pauline Kael was daring, naughty, fun, pretentious, witty, and had a unique taste in movies perhaps only perfectly compatible with Francis Davis. Her vast reserves of knowledge about movies that are forgotten today, the movies of the sixties, seventies, eighties, may grant her some insight into films that escapes the rest of us. Ms. Kael had practically become a film Guru. It showed that she loved her medium and was happy to write about it with a creativity that spawned from her genuine criticism and did what a movie critic’s job is anyways. Ms. Kael entertained her readers, not matter what.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Afterglow
Afterglow gives a differing perspective into the mind of Pauline Kael, a movie critic who made waves in movie criticism throughout her career. A reader usually doesn’t have a whole lot of background information about the person whose critique they are reading, although it would seem pertinent to do so to see how much weight their opinion should be have. But movie critiques have intentions and styles that are not determined from movie to movie. Pauline Kael liked taking a movie and making cultural critique out of it that embodied not just the movie itself but the public’s response to the movie. It is easy in Afterglow for her so seem arrogant in her opinions because with every movie that she thinks to be unappreciated she acts as if the viewers are simply stepping on their own toes. Her writing itself is entertaining to read and provides for a practical viewpoint of the movie.
For Pauline Kael movies are becoming more and more popular for being aesthetically pleasing than actually being original and daring. This is probably because that is the style from which Pauling Kael lived her own life but it brings forward a good point. Should a movie be good because it is easily entertaining and good looking? Perhaps it’s a mute point because a movie doesn’t change at all whatever our opinions may be.
For Pauline Kael movies are becoming more and more popular for being aesthetically pleasing than actually being original and daring. This is probably because that is the style from which Pauling Kael lived her own life but it brings forward a good point. Should a movie be good because it is easily entertaining and good looking? Perhaps it’s a mute point because a movie doesn’t change at all whatever our opinions may be.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
"Once" Review
Once is an independent film, shot simplistically with digital technology that combines a healthy blend of comedy, romance and desperation—on a budget of $160,000 using musicians doubling as actors, to help the story along. Both the film’s stars are experienced musicians, Glen Hansard himself started busking when he was just thirteen and Marketa Irglova started playing music at the age of seven.
The story is about a chance encounter between an Irish guy, Glen Hansard, employed at his father’s hoover repair shop by day and busking by night, and Czech immigrant, Marketa Irglova, who takes odd jobs selling flowers in the street to earn money to care for her mother and daughter. Throughout the film, Hansard and Irglova remain unnamed, appearing finally as Guy and Girl in the credits. Both are interested in music and it is this shared passion that leads them together through a strange series of events, ultimately concluding with the creation of an album foreshadowed to be Guy’s big break as his pending move to London nears. These events are shadowed by the romance that grows between them but is held back by their lingering past relationships.
Built on a small budget the movie was filmed digitally and in a very simple style that meant that it was up to the actors to create the story. The perspective that the film gives acts firmly as a passive objective observer to the story at hand. In this way the events are allowed to tell the story without needing any fancy cinematography to accentuate. In one scene they enjoy dinner with some friends in which afterwards each person sings. The scene is very personal and exclusive. This is a style that produces an entertainingly intimate movie.
Most of the scenes take place in ordinary settings, like a bus or the street, and gives the movie a down to earth feeling. There are no real mega twists in the plotline nor is the script extravagant. Everything would seem rather basic and bland were it not for the music.
Once is musical but it is not a musical. Musicals are characterized by an obvious replacement of music for normal communications and conversations. Although there is still communicative significance to the songs in the film, they are executed in a more personal music for the sake of music style, versus music for the sake of continuing the plotline.
John Carney and Hansard should be commended, directing and composing the movie and the music, respectively: both elements carrying equal weight in its success. Simplicity itself is its beauty and it is brought to life through its music, charged with the character’s emotions behind it. Its hard to place this film in any one category, not a musical, not a comedy, not really a romance and not totally tragic—it seems that it is just like life: a healthy blend of them all.
The story is about a chance encounter between an Irish guy, Glen Hansard, employed at his father’s hoover repair shop by day and busking by night, and Czech immigrant, Marketa Irglova, who takes odd jobs selling flowers in the street to earn money to care for her mother and daughter. Throughout the film, Hansard and Irglova remain unnamed, appearing finally as Guy and Girl in the credits. Both are interested in music and it is this shared passion that leads them together through a strange series of events, ultimately concluding with the creation of an album foreshadowed to be Guy’s big break as his pending move to London nears. These events are shadowed by the romance that grows between them but is held back by their lingering past relationships.
Built on a small budget the movie was filmed digitally and in a very simple style that meant that it was up to the actors to create the story. The perspective that the film gives acts firmly as a passive objective observer to the story at hand. In this way the events are allowed to tell the story without needing any fancy cinematography to accentuate. In one scene they enjoy dinner with some friends in which afterwards each person sings. The scene is very personal and exclusive. This is a style that produces an entertainingly intimate movie.
Most of the scenes take place in ordinary settings, like a bus or the street, and gives the movie a down to earth feeling. There are no real mega twists in the plotline nor is the script extravagant. Everything would seem rather basic and bland were it not for the music.
Once is musical but it is not a musical. Musicals are characterized by an obvious replacement of music for normal communications and conversations. Although there is still communicative significance to the songs in the film, they are executed in a more personal music for the sake of music style, versus music for the sake of continuing the plotline.
John Carney and Hansard should be commended, directing and composing the movie and the music, respectively: both elements carrying equal weight in its success. Simplicity itself is its beauty and it is brought to life through its music, charged with the character’s emotions behind it. Its hard to place this film in any one category, not a musical, not a comedy, not really a romance and not totally tragic—it seems that it is just like life: a healthy blend of them all.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Writer’s Strike
In a battle between any two forces the winner will always be the one that has the upper hand, of course. The writer’s strike however is in the midst of confusion. People are relatively up to date on how much money is being lost and whether or not the Oscars will take place as usual. But there has been an absence of discussion about which of the two has the upper hand.
While not completely certain, it is suspected that the
Steinem Review
What Gloria Steinem is talking about in her article is what we real people call a “non-issue” or rather an issue that really isn’t important at all. Instead it takes attention away from the issues that really that do matter.
Shouldn’t presidents be elected based on merit and not because of their gender? When voters cast their ballots letting gender factor into their decision it benefits
I think what really worries Steinem is simply that the race isn’t looking great for
ticket.
Zinsser Review
William Zinsser does a superb job of putting the importance of art today into context and provides an almost friction free guideline for both reviewing and criticizing. He doesn’t give absolute rules of dos and don’ts from some invisible writers manual. Instead he shares tips that are valuable and justifies them each with a proper explanation that gives him clarity. After sifting through the difference between the reviewer and the critic, he provides three principles that apply for both: enjoy the medium you are writing about, don’t give away too much of the plot and use specific detail.
To emphasize the validity of his guidance he shows examples of great pieces of writing that reflect the suggestions that he already made. The examples, from Virgil Thomson, a music critic from 1940-1954 for the New York Herald Tribune, John Leonard on Michener’s The Covenant, and Cynthia Ozick on the legacy of T.S. Eliot, are diverse enough to help display a broad spectrum of applicability for all of his advice. Zinsser concludes by going into depth with each example showing the reader why the excerpt qualifies as a good piece of writing. The article was very well constructed, providing clear context, advice and applicability for anyone who wishes to critique and review.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Atonement
Regis Hanna
Arts Journalism
Marin Heintritz
1-14-07
Atonement
Taking place at the time of the First World War, Atonement is the story of a 13 girl who is discombobulated by the wanton actions of the adults that encapsulate the world that she knows. Without being provided any context from which to understand the events that surround her she self righteously interprets them herself, tearing apart two lovers and leading herself to a path of regret and redemption. Created by Pride and Prejudice director Joe Wright, working once again with Keira Knightley, and based on the novel by Ian McEwan Atonement is a nostalgic inducing love and war film that captures the real hopes and wishes that everyone indulges in if we could change something we did in our past.
Atonement will make you feel the emotions and turmoil of the characters using a soundtrack that provides a sense of urgency and suspense. Redisplaying his ability to capture beautiful imagery, Joe Wright uses a time and perception alternating story line method that enables the viewer to see and feel deeper into the movie. Different forms of scenery, both breathtaking and grotesque, take part in the movie to refine the projection of the emotions of the characters. Both are flawlessly captured in a masterful acute simultaneous display of both good and evil.
Although not the most enticing script ever written, the actors do a superb job of filling in for any gaps and, perhaps to compensate, small clues and hints of irony riddle the movie acting as a sort of bonus to an already plump storyline for whoever is sharp enough to catch them. In addition there are short mysterious aspects, such as a bee trapped by a window, added to the film that can only make sense if interpreted symbolically, giving an optional even further depth to the movie.
Although Atonement reflects the most beautiful and horrible aspects of human nature using the most extreme and overused examples of both: love and war this film sets itself apart because it is not exhibited in the fairy tale, lived happily ever after sense. Atonement is a film that shows the reality behind the fairy tale conceptions of love and war, and the regret that haunts us when, because of the choices we have made, the only happy outcome left possible is in our imagination.
If you look past the brilliant soundtrack, cinematography and acting and just look at the story itself, it seems like one big apology note. The way it is constructed however is so pertinent to human experience that, although fiction, Atonement gives leaves you with that “Based on a True Story” buzz as you leave the auditorium with a taste of romance, a gulp of drama and a shot of nostalgia.
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