The Cranes Are Flying (Mikhail Kalatozov, 1957)

I fond the above poster at Stale Popcorn, on the list of best film posters ever. I agree that the poster is gorgeous: effortlessly beautiful and symbolic, and still distinctly Soviet. That poster succeeds in portraying the film in a way that the American poster really doesn't. But no matter how beautiful the poster is, and how beautiful the movie itself is, I never felt myself particularly moved or swayed by the movie's actions. Veronica and her fiancee Boris are torn apart by World War II, when Boris heroically enlists to help save his country. Veronica also loses her parents (in the one really emotionally resonant scene for me in the movie), and moves in with Boris' family, including his cousin Mark, who is hopelessly in love with Veronica. He's also a scumbag who won't take no for an answer, and tries to force himself time and time again on Veronica. The feminist/progressive defense of accepting a man because you can no longer hold your own in the world is an interesting and provocative one, but alas, Kalatozov doesn't really go that route. Veronica instead becomes a heroine of the war, working in a hospital with Boris' father. When the inevitable happens, it's sad, but not unexpected nor emotionally engaging. This seems more like a Soviet melodrama than a profound statement on war and female engagement in the world. The propagandist ending, with Veronica handing out flowers to her comrades and looking forward to a brave new world, was so ridiculous I actually laughed. For resonant drama, look elsewhere, but The Cranes Are Flying is beautifully photographed and has beautiful actors. 7/10

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Another Day In Paradise (Larry Clark, 1997)

Larry Clark is really a love or hate director for most people. I personally love him, a lot. When I worked at a university library one summer in special collections, I would hide in the air conditioned rare books basement and read dirty books; particularly, old issues of Playgirl, High Times, and Larry Clark photography. I love the maligned Ken Park -- it's a film with no real plot to speak of, but short vignettes about how hard it is to be a teenager. That's what most of Clark's films are about, the in-between period when you're not an adult, but certainly not a child, and what sex and love and fun means to you then. In Another Day In Paradise, Clark takes on adulthood, or at least two adults who are in a state of arrested development, and two young people who want to be adults. James Woods and Melanie Griffith (with whom I was surprisingly impressed) play Mel and Sid, two junkie thieves who end up hooking up with Bobbie and Rosie (played by Vincent Kartheiser and Natasha Gregson Wagner, who both give wonderful performances but seem to have fallen victim to the strange young actors of the 90s curse), two teenage junkie hoods who want to become big time. Mel and Sid become like parents to Bobbie and Rosie, but, like most things, the good times only last so long. The plot isn't so much what's important about Another Day In Paradise; rather, it's the movie one can point to when detractors try to claim that Clark isn't a director, but instead is an exploiter of underage sexuality. This film has lots of beautiful and occasionally poignant moments. All four of the leads are remarkably well acted, and in all these people at the bottom of society, we see glimpses of failed dreams and vulnerability. But it wouldn't be a Clark film without some sex, and although this was the director's cut, there was some of the most straightforward sex talk I've seen in film in a while. Wagner in particular is fantastic as Rosie, who wants to be rich and have her fun like with Bobbie, but also wants to settle down and be a mother (hard with a heroin addiction), but fails in the end. The only real problems I had with the movie is that there was no way that Wagner plays for a teenager, as she was almost 30 at the time of filming; and I could see where the plot was going long before it got there. But like I said, plot isn't the most important thing in this film, but rather the actors' reactions to the situations. Those are all amazing. Not Clark's best film, but certainly a really good one, no matter who the director. 8.5/10

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Death Sentence (James Wan, 2007)

James Wan is really underrated, I think. While watching Death Sentence, I thought back on his previous directorial efforts, Saw and Dead Silence, and realized that basically everything he's done, I've been a fan of. I'm not saying he's the next Scorcese or anything, but he's a great genre director. In that vein, Death Sentence is a great piece of exploitation action; what Grindhouse would have been if the directors didn't take themselves so seriously (though I still prefer Grindhouse, this is just the Death Wish to their sexploitation-horror films). Kevin Bacon plays the father of a promising youth athlete who is murdered in a gas station gang initiation ceremony. The gang member is caught, but Bacon is shocked that he would get 5-7 years in jail at the most, so he purposefully ruins the case and decides to take revenge. The change from white-collar businessman to no-nonsense vigilante is a really genuine seeming one; it really could happen to someone you know. In particular, one chase scene, which goes from the streets to a parking garage, is done for several minutes in one continuous shot which is really impressive. It brings you into the action and is just an impressive directorial feat (there's even a bonus feature on the DVD about the making of that particular scene). So while it may seem like a far-fetched premise, Bacon, the writing, and Wan's direction really bring it to life. Not to mention, John Goodman has an incredibly badass role as an arms dealer and gang leader. James Wan really pulled this modern day Charles Bronson movie off, and not least because he understands that a double-barrelled shotgun is the most badass weapon there is. 7.5/10

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2 in brief

Infinitely better and more sophisticated, both in plot and in cultural implications than Princess Tam-Tam (strangely enough, since this was the year before), Zouzou is another Josephine Baker star vehicle that has improbable musical numbers with outrageous costumes (Baker as a bird in a cage!) and a hidden love story. Baker and Jean Gabin play orphans who were raised as brother and sister by a circus barker, and have stayed close ever since, even though Baker has fallen in love with her not-brother. Problem is, he falls for a friend of hers, and then he's arrested for murder (wrongfully, of course). It's nothing remarkable, but is really a pleasant yet surprisingly deep (a few moments of real moral quandaries) way in which to watch Baker in her element. Plus, her Parisian cheapie vogue style of the happening 30s is one of my new style icons. 7/10 The award for most inventive plot ever definitely goes to Bubba Ho-Tep. Perennial awesome guy Bruce Campbell plays Elvis who, years after trading places with an impersonator, is living in a Texas nursing home where an Egyptian mummy is sucking the souls from fellow residents and shitting them out. Oh, and he has to team up with Former President Kennedy, played by Ossie Davis, to defeat the mummy. I have no idea how one would even come up with that story, but it's both a fun and funny, yet oddly touching movie. The first half of the movie lays out the premise, but also has some real truth and poignancy to it about aging and the meaning of life. The second half is a gross, funny, ass-kicking Campbell spectacle. Fans of b-movies have undoubtedly already seen it, but if my description piqued your interest at all, there are far worse ways to spend 90 minutes. 7/10

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Beyond the Darkness (Joe D'Amato, 1979)

From the first few minutes, with its thrilling footage of the main character driving a van and some other random things happening, my main thought about Beyond the Darkness was that if Mystery Theater 3000 had watched and mocked gory horror movies, this would have been one of the first they would have done. Frank's girlfriend dies within the first few minutes of the movie (because his creepy maid had a voodoo doll of her), and then he totally snaps. Or maybe he was crazy to begin with, we never really know. He digs up her corpse (after injecting her with...something that I really thought was going to bring her back to life), takes out the organs, and keeps her at his house. But that's not enough for him -- he starts inexplicably killing local girls as well, with, of course, the help of the creepy maid, who is now his fiancee (or thinks she is). But the movie isn't actually as bad as it might seem -- there are some moments of horror, and some really intense gore (the scene where Frank takes out his girlfriend's guts is brutal, even if it's obviously fake). And the movie doesn't make sense until afterward, when you really think about it. It's a fun, weird horror movie with some incredible WTF moments, but I just can't see why all my Netflix friends who have seen the movie have loved it. 6.5/10

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A few site updates

If you're wondering why I haven't been posting much, it's because I've been thoroughly engrossed in Michael Apted's Up series -- I'm through the first three, and want to see the rest as soon as possible. They're a wonderful mixture of the mundane and the universal, and I find myself really invested in these people, for good or for bad. I'll certainly be writing about the series when I finish it. For now, a few things. Please tell me your favorite film blogs that I'm presumably not reading. I feel pretty isolated from other film bloggers, and I want to change that! Help me! Second, thanks to Adam, I've become preoccupied with StumbleUpon. If you have Firefox and don't use it, I recommend you get it now. And if you do, I've put a handy SU button on each post. If you really like something I've written, or if you just feel like being nice, click it and share it with the world! I would appreciate it. (And if you read this on the LJ feed, come by and see the blog -- SU buttons and all -- once in a while! Because if you comment on the LJ feed, I have no way of seeing it. If you comment here, I will almost surely read and respond!)

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My Blueberry Nights (Wong Kar-Wai, 2007)

Like Michael Haneke, my relationship with Wong Kar-Wai is one where I really go against the grain. Most people I know who love film love his films, citing how beautiful and romantic they are. Instead of romantic, I find them melodramatic, and, at their worst, trite and boring. I've never seen a Wong film that I really, truly love, and My Blueberry Nights, his first English-language effort, didn't change that. The film starts with about a half hour of the main character, Elizabeth (Norah Jones, in her first acting role which I'll get to soon) complaining to cafe owner Jeremy (Jude Law, who looks sort of dead behind the eyes) about the unseen man that's left her for another woman. She stays at his cafe past closing to talk with him and eat blueberry pie, since Jeremy explains that it's always almost all left at the end of the night, but he keeps making them anyway because someday, someone will want some. These overwrought metaphors (get it? Elizabeth's the blueberry pie!) might sound romantic and lovely in Chinese through subtitles, but when we actually hear this dialogue in English coming from these actors, it just doesn't work. Another Wong trademark, slow motion, is used to complete excess here and seems to be just padding when there's nothing else to show; it's distracting rather than masterful. Every review I've read of the film pretty much hinges on the performance of Norah Jones -- people either commend her bravery for taking her first acting role as the lead in a prominent director's first English feature, or dismiss her outright with little acting and emoting talent. I'm in the second camp. Half the time, Jones seems checked out of the role, as if reading from a cue card or having her lines read to her. Especially when put up against such grade-A talents as David Strathairn and Rachel Weisz, Jones is almost wince-worthy at times. The entire movie is based on the premise that Elizabeth (who goes by Beth and Liz at times in her journey) is someone to whom you can really connect; why else would Straithairn's alcoholic police officer or Natalie Portman's obsessive gambler open up to her like they do? I saw nothing in Jones' portrayal of Elizabeth that made this at all plausible. Her innocence and wide-eyed naivete could have been endearing, but instead were ridiculous and unrealistic. Elizabeth is someone who believes used car salesmen. Seriously. But for all these faults, the film is saved from total disaster from the middle section, with Straithairn as the cop and Weisz as his soon-to-be ex-wife. This story is told masterfully, and is telling that the movie is at its best when not about Elizabeth. The small tragedies are often the most painful ones, and these people, while they pretend they're not damaged, are vulnerable and broken. Both Straithairn and Weisz give fantastic performances, and might even be Oscar-worthy come next awards season. All in all, it's not surprising that My Blueberry Nights got such polarized reactions when it premiered at Cannes, nor that it's taken so long to get it out since. The script is wooden and the performances are, for the most part, vacant. I think the biggest problem here is that My Blueberry Nights tries so hard to convince you of its heart, when there's none to be seen. 6/10

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Breaking: Anthony Minghella, dead at 54

Sad news today: director Anthony Minghella died today, at the age of 54. Apparently, he had tonsil surgery last week, with no apparent ill effects, but had a brain hemmorhage and died this morning. Minghella, who won an Oscar for The English Patient, had just finished work on an adaptation of the Number 1 Ladies' Detective Agency which is to run on HBO. Jude Law, who worked with the director on three films, has a touching comment in the Guardian article linked above. A truly talented individual, and a shocking loss for film.

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Why I'm not going to see Funny Games U.S. this weekend (or ever).

Apparently, director Michael Haneke recently thought about his 1997 film Funny Games and thought that it was even more applicable to American culture in the 21st century than it was to German society right before the milennium. For most directors, the answer would have been a sigh and an "Oh well." But not for Haneke. 10 years after the fact, he decided to remake his revered (in certain circles) film for American audiences, in English, with stars like Naomi Watts, Tim Roth, and Michael Pitt, and it's opening this weekend. But this is no ordinary remake. No, it's a shot-for-shot remake. Literally nothing is different about the film except the actors and the fact that the dialogue is in English. Let's ignore the fact that I hated the original for a second; this is the height of self-promotion for an artist. If Haneke could just admit that he's looking to break through past just the American art-house audience into a wider one, that he's looking for some sort of notoriety with his brutal remake, I could respect that and move on. But Haneke apologists on IMDB are insisting that he remade it because it's so meaningful for today's American culture, what with the Iraq war and the political climate. Really. Really? I highly doubt it. Now let's go back to the fact that this is a shitty, pretentious movie in the first place. I (obviously) have no problem with unlikable characters, or brutality, or violence in movies -- much of the criticism I've read focuses on the brutal, "I want to take a shower after" nature of the movie, but I don't mind that. My problem is that some of the tactics used (and if you've seen the movie, you know exactly what I'm talking about) are the height of directorial ridiculousness. When said moment happened, I literally yelled at my TV screen. I wanted to throw the DVD across the room. It's not post-modern, it's utterly lazy and a big wink to the audience. I almost always hate when movies are self-aware, and this is the most self aware of them all. That moment defines why I just don't like Haneke as a filmmaker. So screw you, Michael Haneke. I'm not paying a second time to see a movie I hated the first time through, and even if I had liked the movie (which I have been assailed by almost every film fan I know for hating, by the way), why in God's name would I want to see the exact same fucking thing again? It didn't work for Gus van Sant, and I hope to high heavens it doesn't work for Haneke, although it appears that critics are already eating out of his hands.

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Suspicious River (Lynne Stopkewich, 2000)

The last time director Lynne Stopkewich and star Molly Parker collaborated, it was the 1996 film Kissed, which I had decidedly mixed feelings about. While I liked that it was an exploration of alternative female sexuality, I didn't like much else about it. Suspicious River is a decided improvement over that film. It's as if the protagonist of Kissed grew up, stopped having sex with corpses, but stayed in the same depressing town and somehow ended up in a depressing marriage. Parker plays Leila, motel clerk in Suspicious River who has a boring, repetitive life. While she seems like a smart, bright woman, she moves aimlessly from unskilled job to unskilled job. She stands behind the desk at this small, deserted motel, doing nothing all day, then goes home to her neglectful, anorexic husband who is no longer interested in sex. All that changes until one day when a motel customer comes onto her, and she goes to his room. Not only does she give him oral sex, she demands money for it. He tells some of his friends, and soon, Leila has more or less a second job. There's one scene in particular where Leila walks out of a motel room and it suddenly hits her that she's a prostitute. But no moral judgements are made on her -- Leila does it because she's sexually unfulfilled, bored, and self-destructive. That's just what it is. But one man sticks out among others, and she begins a Belle de Jour-esque affair with one of her clients. But this is a movie that is better the less you know (thanks, Netflix, for one of the most revealing plot descriptions ever), but things don't go well. Both Stopkewich and Parker matured greatly in the 4 years between their two collaborations, and it shows. The direction is often achingly beautiful, and Parker really gives a tour de force performance. Why this film isn't more revered in independent circles, not to mention as a fine piece of feminist filmmaking, is beyond me. By the way, does anyone know why Lynne Stopkewich apparently isn't directing features anymore? It's sad to lose a distinctively talented female directing voice. This film is certainly recommended, even despite the ending that's not up to the level of the rest of the movie. 8/10

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Raging Bull (Martin Scorcese, 1980)

Talking about Raging Bull at this point is kind of silly - I'm guessing everything that I want to say has been said thousands of times before and better. Two main points, though. While I certainly liked the movie, I didn't love it. This is probably because of the intensely masculine nature of the film. I've never thought much of boxing in the first place, but Scorcese, the visual master that he is, really brought out the poetry and the beauty in it. I wish I had taken some stills of it, because it really is a gorgeous movie, especially the boxing scenes. The opening sequence, when DeNiro is hopping around the ring and the steam is rising from it, is one of the most beautifully photographed scenes I've ever seen. But the characters are, for the most part, so utterly unlikeable, and while that is never a problem for me liking a movie, it is their unsympathetic natures that really get me. LaMotta ends up a fat, pathetic slob, but it was by his own doing. And strangely enough, the first/last scenes (with LaMotta at the mirror, practicing his terrible act) really impressed me with how great Paul Thomas Anderson is. I shot straight up and knew that this is where the final, infamous scene in Boogie Nights came from. The way Anderson reappropriates this scene (which was, ironically enough, reappropriated by Scorcese from On the Waterfront) is really a great statement on post-modern cinema. So Anderson is this generation's Scorcese, I say. 8/10

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Terror's Advocate (Barbet Schroeder, 2007)

You probably haven't heard of Jacques Verges, but you almost definitely have heard of some of the people he's defended in court: Djamila Bouhired, Algerian nationalist bomber; Klaus Barbie, Nazi "Butcher of Lyon"; Magdalena Kopp, Baader-Meinhoff gang member; and Slobodan Molosevic, former president of Serbia and Yugoslavia. Verges earned the titular nickname defending all these people, though not because of some idealistic notion that everyone needs defending. In fact, director/narrator Barbet Schroeder (whom I really admire) doesn't force the question, and instead, Verges gives a few vague answers, mostly tied to French atrocities in the Algerian war. Schroeder's ridiculously passive approach to this film is really its downfall, although it does also lead to some intriguing moments. Verges gets involved as a French law student in communist action, then is recruited to defend Bouhired, among others, from killing French citizens in a series of bombings. He becomes very sympathetic to the cause, and outrageous in the courtroom. The first half or so of the film is dedicated to the Algerian cause, and we see first-hand the events from Battle of Algiers. Verges also has a hero complex, it seems, as he marries (and eventually deserts) Bouhired, and does the same later in his life with Kopp. Patronizing heroism aside, Verges is deeply passionate about his beliefs, and in present-day interviews, still comes off as so. But once we get past about 1970 chronologically, Verges all but refuses to talk about anything in his life. He disappeared from 1970-1978, but won't say where he was or what he was doing, even after 30 years. Some suggest he was with Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia, and Verges admits being friends with Pol Pot, but, again, Schroeder never calls him on this. It would have been fascinating to see this confident, articulate man defend what we now know was a brutal regime. Neither will he really say why he defended Barbie (except to remind the court, in the 80s, about French atrocities in Algeria), and when we find out he defended certain people who were directly against his beliefs (an African warlord, notorious terrorist Carlos the Jackal), still no explanation. Verges just sits behind a huge desk, smug after all these years. He actually infuriate me for the most part. Schroeder really lets Verges off the hook in this film, refusing to ever make him face his mistakes. Perhaps Verges just refused to have these things discussed, but it really takes away from what could have been an amazingly revealing documentary. One more minor problem I had: although the political situations around the people Verges defended were complicated and intricately interwoven (one of the most interesting things about the film is how every "terrorist" network in the world is interconnected, especially the Nazi-Palestinian connection, which I never considered and makes me uncomfortable in my beliefs), there was far too much backstory in this film for it to have any flow whatsoever. This is a great disappointment from the great Schroeder, even more so considering what this film could have been. 6/10

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Two new international Speed Racer trailers

Via AICN comes the news that two new international trailers for what promises to be one of the summer's biggest movies, the Wachowski brothers' Speed Racer have been released. These make me even more excited for the film -- while in plot, it might just be any other family movie, the visuals are so crazy that I get psyched just watching the trailer. I really can't wait for this one!

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The Hamiltons (The Butcher Brothers, 2006)

Something that irritates me more than a mediocre-to-bad horror movie that start with a ridiculous premise and go nowhere is a mediocre-to-bad horror movie that starts with a relatively good premise and goes downhill from there. The Hamiltons, an entry in 2006's After Dark Horror Fest, is certainly in that second category, and it's far more of a disappointing experience than an amusing one. The story of a constantly moving family who have some pretty dark secrets has a few good twists, but the terrible pacing, dialogue, and general unravelling of the plot really ruin this movie. The Hamiltons move into their new neighborhood after their parents' mysterious death (never really explained, even though a big deal is made about it). The youngest member, Francis, doesn't fit in and hates his peers and family -- we don't get any interaction with anyone except the family and their social worker, however; I think the movie would have been well-served with at least one scene of Francis in school. His oldest brother, David, tries to be the father of the family, with varying results. There are also two middle siblings, twins Wendell and Darlene, who are the most interesting parts of the movie. They're hedonistic, not ashamed of who they are, incestuous, sociopathic, everything you want in juicy horror movie characters. But when random hitchiking girls, along with a friend of Darlene's and who knows how many other women, start disappearing...no one cares. That's right, with one small, awkward exception, there's no sign that the Hamiltons will ever be caught, or if anyone in the community even cares. There should be at least a little outside tension, but there's none. The movie is incredibly low-budget, and while I obviously don't think that a big budget solves everything (it usually ruins more than it helps), The Hamiltons could have used a little more money. There's actually no gore in the movie, despite what the poster and trailer tells you, and you get the sense that it's because The Butcher Brothers ran out of money, rather than a stylistic choice. The script should have been tightened and expanded at the same time, because there's a bit of dead space, but also lots of holes in the plot. Holes you could walk through. The little twist at the end was a bit clever, but felt too much like they were pulling it out just for the ending and not part of the story at all. Had they involved that little (heh) twist in the entire movie, it would have made more sense. All in all, if The Butcher Brothers were to remake this movie with a bit of money and quite a bit more attention to the script, this could be a good movie. As of now, it's not quite worth watching. 4/10

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Paranoid Park (Gus van Sant, 2007)

Les Cahiers du cinema, France's premiere film journal, named Gus van Sant's Paranoid Park their favorite film of 2007. It also won the 60th Anniversary Prize and was nominated for the Palme d'Or at Cannes last year. Those amount to a pretty darn good pedigree for this film, but I have a love-hate relationship with van Sant. At his best (Elephant, To Die For), he documents the dark side of the outsider; at his worst (Last Days, parts of Drugstore Cowboy and My Own Private Idaho), he's boring and pretentious. So where would Paranoid Park fit into this rubric? Thankfully, it's his best film ever. Like with Elephant, van Sant used almost all amateur actors to portray the inhabitants of this teenage world. Alex, played near-perfectly by Gabe Nevins, is a Portland high school skateboarder who is invited by his friend to Paranoid Park, a skateboard park where the punk kids, the homeless kids, the kids who are unwanted go (Alex has a wonderful interior monologue about however bad your family situation is, these kids have it worse). When he goes on his own one Saturday night, he decides to go freight train-riding with a guy he just met. When a security guard tries to stop them, Alex accidentally kills him, and then spends the rest of the movie trying to cope with his actions, accidental though they were. van Sant tells the story through the framework of Alex's writings about the event. He's not particularly brilliant, or eloquent, or even that good at showing his emotions. Alex is a normal teenage boy, and Nevins' lack of emoting is perfect for the role. When Alex does break down, then, it's even more devastating. The plot is thin, but not to the detriment of the movie. There are long, slow-motion, lyrical shots of skateboarding and kids walking down their school's hallways, among other things. Some have (perhaps rightfully so at times) called these boring; I think they were hypnotic and illuminating. van Sant has taken the exploration of one's interior life that he stalled with in Last Days, and perfected it here. All the teenagers are natural, even when they seem unnatural. The progression of guilt from Alex's insides to his relationships with his family and friends is devastating, and emotionally resonating. van Sant has made his best film 20 years into his career; I hope he keeps it up. But knowing him, he'll make a completely different film next time. I expect no less. 8.5/10

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Graveyard of Honor (Kinji Fukasaku, 1975)

Kinji Fukasaku's 1975 film Graveyard of Honor isn't your usual yakuza film. There's no glorification of the yakuza lifestyle; instead, we get the story of one man who takes it too far. It's more like a Scorcese or other American gangster picture where there are almost always a renegade who feels the consequences of his actions, rather than a Japanese yakuza picture, which usually shows the yakuza as the hero, rebelling against status quo society. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if we saw an American remake one -- Takashi Miike already remade it, and I have read alternating account that it's one of his best or most boring pictures. We learn, from a lengthy voiceover introduction, that Rikio Ishikawa ran away from home at 15 and joined the Tokyo yakuza. When we first see him, he's an impulsive young man, straight out of juvenile detention, who attacks some small-time yakuza who are operating a shoe-shine business in his gang's territory. His boss tries to warn him that unless someone is a genuine threat, there's no need to attack them and make things worse. But Rikio is impulsive and arrogant, and because he can't keep his temper in check, causes lots of problems for his gang. He's eventually banished from Tokyo for ten years and goes to jail, but when he gets out, things are worse than ever. Fukasaku, a director of considerable talent (he directed Battle Royale, among others), shows here that he's a visual master. Some of the shots are sideways, and in the fight scenes, it's often hard to get a hold on what's happening. The cinematography is often disorienting, a wonderful look inside of Rikio's head. Even though some of the plot is overdrawn and confusing (why does his gang keep forgiving him?), it's a good movie and well worth a watch, if only to see where modern Japanese directors like Miike got much of their yakuza inspiration. 7.5/10

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