Even without much response elicited by my appeal to readers, I will keep posting my filmlog, out of which this blog developed. It will be more a memoir to myself, rather than an attempt to tell you in capsule all you need to know about whether to see a film or not. (BTW, MC-score represents numerical consensus from metacritic.com) Here’s a sample:
3-7-06 Way We Laughed. *7-* (1998, dvd, n.) Gianni Amelio’s film does not have the amplitude or the warmth of The Best of Youth, but it covers some of the same ground. Two Sicilian brothers out of their element in Turin from 1958-64, caught ellipitically on six separate days within that span. Close-mouthed, they keep secrets from each other and from us. They -- and the film -- fail to connect despite deep connection. To appreciate this film, you need to forego traditional narrative satisfactions and resolutions. Everything happens in the gaps and under the surface. The surface, however, is quite handsome. (MC-63.)
3-9-06 Bamboozled. *6* (2000, dvd@cai, r.) As usual with Spike Lee -- too much. Almost all his films would be better 20-30 minutes shorter. The implicit history of the minstrel show and Negro caricature in popular culture is novel and multi-layered. But the satire is uncertain of tone, and when the bullets start to fly the movie goes off the rails. (MC-50.)
3-10-06 Oliver Twist. *6+* (2005, dvd, n.) Stately rather than Dickensian, Roman Polanski’s mounting of the familiar story is neither funny nor pathetic enough. Beautifully designed and shot, but emotionally inert. None of the characters pop off the screen. (MC-65.)
3-13-06 The World. *6+* (2004, dvd, n.) Jia Zhangke’s film has garnered international praise for the young Chinese director, but I found it slow and meandering, albeit full of interesting observation. Set in a Beijing theme park that recreates world sites in dwarf size -- Pyramids, Acropolis, St. Peter’s, London Bridge, Eiffel Tower, Manhattan skyline complete with Trade Towers, etc. etc. -- the film follows a group of provincials who have come to the big city to work as performers (and sometimes prostitutes), security guards, and construction labor. But far from being free and cosmopolitan, they are more trapped and isolated than in the countryside. This is a multifaceted look, incorporating wacky flights of animated fantasy, into the largely unknown world of modern mainland China, both insulated and globalized. The long-shot, long-take aesthetic probably requires a large screen to immerse oneself. More interesting to think about afterwards than to watch. (MC-81.)
3-15-06 Tristram Shandy: A Cock & Bull Story. *8+* (2006, Images, n.) After the misfire provocation of 9 Songs, Michael Winterbottom is back on form as one of my favorite younger directors. Wild and woolly, yet seamless in its rapidfire ricochet through time and levels of reality -- depicted, acted, “real” -- this remains an adaptation of both the spirit and the letter of the book, while also being a classic movie about the making of a movie, plus a backstage reality tv sit-com. Will bear repeat viewing on dvd, with subtitles a help to catch off-hand dialogue of overlapping British accents. Steve Coogan is great, as usual, but the whole cast of familiar and unfamiliar faces works beautifully together. (MC-80.)
3-17-06 My House in Umbria. *6-* (2003, HBO/T, n.) This HBO adaptation of a William Trevor novella was pleasant enough, what with the Italian locations and Maggie Smith’s performance in the central role, but skippable unless you’re a big fan of one or the other.
3-18-06 The Real Dirt on Farmer John. *7+* (2005, B-10, n.) Well put-together documentary on maverick Midwestern farmer who finally saves the family farm through Community Supported Agriculture. An obsessively filmed life leads to an effective film biography, which offers a cultural as well as a personal portrait, helps answer the question, “Whatever happened to the Sixties?” Post-film talk with folk from two Berkshire CSAs and responsive full-house audience at MassMoCA made this an excellent community event.
3-20-06 Occupation: Dreamland. *6+* (2005, Sund/T, n.) This intimate documentary from Ian Olds and Garrett Scott follows a squad of 82nd Airborne, as they try to subdue Fallujah in early 2004. It gives you a real “you are there” feeling, even if you don’t want to be there. Fleshes out just what the word “occupation” means. Demonstrates implicitly that the only way to support our troops is to bring them home.
3-21-06 Cache (Hidden.) *8* (2005, Images, n.) Puts the viewer through Hitchcockian paces, but not at Hitchcock’s pace. Very European, very intellectual, with long, long shots that force you to think about what you are looking at. And if you like your psychological thrillers tied up at the end, forget about it. The last lingering shot of the film is a touchstone: for some it offers the final piece of the puzzle and the picture clicks into place; some cannot even see the action taking place in a distant crowd; me, I saw it but couldn’t figure what it meant. Like much in this film, you are not meant to “get it,” in the sense of having certain knowledge or an easy explanation. Michael Haneke’s frequent gruesomeness is pared down to a single instant of shocking violence, though terror permeates all. Daniel Auteuil and Juliet Binoche are a perfect Parisian bobo couple -- he has a popular book show on public tv and she works for a publisher -- but their complacent, slightly paunchy existence is disrupted by receipt of mysterious videotapes that reveal they are under constant surveillance. The stress fissures their relationship and reveals faultlines buried beneath the surface and in the past. Despite some very slow stretches, the film is riveting, and offers lots to think about. I’d put it in a category with The Vanishing and With a Friend Like Harry, highbrow gothic from the EU. (MC-83.)
3-23-06 The Son’s Room. *8+* (2001, dvd@cai, r.) Nanni Moretti directs and stars as a psychoanalyst who experiences a family tragedy. Chastely heartbreaking, this film stands up well on second viewing. Overwhelmingly sad, it is still understated and funny withal, precisely observed and psychologically acute. (MC-73.)
Reconstruction. *6* (2003, Sund/T, n.) A decent Danish mindtwister from Christoffer Boe, this is an overtly constructed and deconstructed romance about a man who loses his way between two women, played by the same striking actress (Maria Bonnevie.) Stylish -- with neon colors, deep shadows, intense two-shots with lots of swirling smoke -- this film has its Dogme elements, but is most reminiscent of Wong Kar-Wai’s In the Mood for Love. (MC-60.)
3-24-06 The 40-Year-Old Virgin. *7* (2005, dvd, n.) Manages to mix raunchy humor with a sweet spirit and some genuine wit, under the hand of Freaks & Geeks (see it on dvd!!!) alum Judd Apatow. Steve Carrell is surprisingly good as the title character, and Catherine Keener is reliably engaging as the “hot grandma” he falls for. The gang of guys is fun too, and even the women are a bit more than caricatures. Way, way better in every respect than The Wedding Crashers in the adult comedy category, though not the “Best Picture” candidate some made it out to be.
3-25-06 A History of Violence. *6* (2005, dvd, n.) Not as bad as with Munich, but I had with this film the same refusal to suspend disbelief. Despite the surface plausibility and filmmaking skill on view, I kept seeing this as the comic book it originally was. Viggo Mortenson infuses the film with some humanity, and frankly, Maria Bello can dress up in a cheerleader costume for me anytime. Ed Harris is excellent as usual, especially in the best, scariest scene in the movie, when the hitman takes an avuncular interest in the little girl at the mall. No guns, no bloodshed, just palpable terror. William Hurt has a few minutes of fun as the mob boss, brother to Viggo, who has escaped his feral Philly past into small-town Indiana rectitude. And right there, let me note the sort of detail that threw me right out of this film -- I can assure you that there is no roadsign in the Indianapolis vicinity that says “Philadelphia: 680 miles.” David Cronenberg is famously explicit with his gore, the violence meant to be antidote but actually more anodyne. He may make it genuinely ugly, but he’s still making it entertainment. And I’m not buying it. Despite it’s #1 rank in Village Voice critics’ poll best of 2005. (MC-81.)
3-26-06 Through the Fire. *7-* (2006, ESPN/T, n.) Though not nearly as deep or as broad, Jonathan Hock’s documentary plays as a worthy sequel to Hoop Dreams. What is lost in the whole family and community context is made up in hardcore game action, as we follow Coney Island schoolboy phenom Sebastian Telfair through his senior year, in pursuit of a third straight NYC championship and in a quandary over whether to go to Louisville or enter the NBA draft. An Isaiah-sized guard who slices through defenses like a hot knife through butter, Sebastian has the telegenic smile and carefully-groomed demeanor to make himself a marketable commodity, which along with his undeniable hoop skill gets him on the cover of SI, and a shoe contract that negates his college prospects and puts him at the mercy of the draft. The film hardly questions the system or ethos of professional sports, but within its limits offers an honest portrayal of one of those mythic escapes from the projects that fuel the dreams of so many. (MC-64.)
3-28-06 The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill. *6* (2005, dvd, n.) This pleasant, if light as a feather, documentary, well-shot by Judy Irving, focuses on a San Franciscan flock of birds and the long-haired fellow who feeds and observes them. The birdman opposite Alcatraz, as it were. The film goes on some amusing and appealing flights of ornithological fantasy, but the parrots are not quite as anthropomorphized as the penguins on their march. On the other hand, there’s not much of a story line, just Mark Bittner’s observations, visual and verbal. The cute ending is a bit of a cheat, coming out of the blue. A better film would have foreshadowed it. (MC-80.)
3-29-06 The Shape of Things. *5* (2003, dvd, n.) Like Closer, this is another four-hander making the transition from stage to screen, only to be seen through, revealed as hollow. Neil LaBute adapts his own play, and the actors follow. Something with Rachel Weisz, Paul Rudd, and Gretchen Mol should have been better, but this story is contrived and shallow and the final switcheroo painful, but not in the way intended. (MC-59.)
3-30-06 Why We Fight. *7* (2006, Images, n.) I can hardly call this a convincing documentary because I was convinced going in. But unlike Michael Moore, Eugene Jarecki assembles his case judiciously, allowing alternate voices their say, even while montage and music make his points. Let Richard Perle be condemned out of his own mouth, rather than ridiculing Paul Wolfowitz because he puts his comb in his mouth. Somewhat scattershot in its argument, the film is well-grounded in President Eisenhower’s farewell speech, warning against the power of the “military-industrial complex.” This from a 5-star general and Republican president! With a tip of the cap to Frank Capra’s WWII documentary series of the same name, this film interweaves graphic and archival history, contemporary reporting (a military trade show in particular), and interview testimony from participants and commentators. I have to agree with its premise that we are in the business of war because war is good business. That is almost as good an explanation as oil, or maybe the same explanation, for why we are in Iraq. (MC-68.)
3-31-06 The Beat My Heart Skipped. *6+* (2005, dvd, n.) Jacques Audiard is apparently a coming French director, critically acclaimed, but this noirish remake of Fingers is his most commercial feature yet, and certainly the first I’ve seen. I will look further, but this one did not grab me. Highly watchable, but not something in which I would invest belief or emotion. Romain Duris follows his father’s trade of thuggish real estate transactions, but longs to follow his dead mother as a concert pianist. There’s a succession of alluring young women, a taxonomy of feminine appeal, but as usual, when the everyday low-grade violence turns to cinematic splatter, I begin to tune out. (MC-75.)
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