one of the more effective sequences in hotel rwanda involves an apparently real radio broadcast: a number of rwandans taking shelter in the hotel listen to an u.s state department spokeswoman dance around the word “genocide”–she will say that “acts of genocide” have happened but she won’t use the word itself as a descriptor. the film to some extent is negotiating a similar problem in its own medium. it says “genocide” loud and clear but it shies away from actually showing too much of it. we get a few scenes–never close-up–of people being hacked to death and shot, we see the bodies of the recently killed but the enormity of what happened–close to a million dead, a staggering refugee crisis–largely eludes us until a screen-caption before the end credits tells us about it.
Month: April 2005
ocean’s twelve
watched this last night. mike, tell me again why i’m supposed to love it. i thought it was okay but if i’d fallen asleep or if the dvd had jammed i don’t know if i would have cared. in fact, sunhee did fall asleep and doesn’t want to finish it today.
what i liked a lot: matt damon so happily playing third fiddle, and a putz at that; elliott gould–did ocean’s eleven get him any more work? that’s about it–the heist stuff was uninvolving, the script not particularly witty, and it featured catherine zeta-jones (whose appeal continues to elude me). and i would like to point out that the theatrical trailer is NOT a “special” feature. unless that was a joke–if so, it might explain why i didn’t think the movie was a hoot.
zombies
Am currently reading Max Brooks (Mel’s son) very serious book called the “Zombie Survival Guide.” It contains fewer blatant attempts at humor than the average Army Survival Manual, and comes across like a mix of the Anarchist’s Cookbook and the serious writings of a disturbed 18 year old. Having said that, it is of course very funny, and I had never realized how dangerous zombies underwater could be until now.
Ahh, zombies. I’m almost always disappointed by the zombie movies. Night of the Comet, even Romero’s many attempts at the genre. Continue reading zombies
Millions
Whimsical, delightfully sentimental (I looked it up and it’s not such a bad word), visually stylish, and sophisticated about childhood, consumerism and global economics; Millions was pleasurable without feeling “important.” It’s the kind of film you always felt Spielberg was capable of if he just didn’t feel the need to try so damn hard.
Peckinpah unbound
“Major Dundee” has gotten the “restored” treatment. Fat chance this thing comes to Charleston, so I’ll wait for the DVD. But please, please, somebody on this blog go see this in the theater (is Michael the only person who would be able to go see this?). From what I understand, it will be quite an experience. The most striking thing is not the additional 12 minutes (after all, Peckinpah’s original cut was 2 hours 44 minutes, and the theatrical release was 2 hours and 2 minutes–this “restored” version is only 2 hours 14 minutes), but the completely new soundtrack and the dolby digital sound. Of course, the original aspect ratio will add to the experience (the only way to see Richard Harris is on the big screen–his performances can be measured best by the square foot). I haven’t seen this film in a while…I saw it on VHS years ago. I remember it was pan-and-scan, with the colors all but lost. A bit of a disappointment. Continue reading Peckinpah unbound
Reduce, Reuse, Recycle
This post falls under the category of “the state of things.” I was thinking of posting a wise and lengthy denunciation of this trend in Hollywood of remaking horror films from the 70s (and importing more recent ones from Japan). But I’ve run dry of wisdom, and in order to make this post lengthy, I’ve decided to add a little twist to the plot. That is, rather than howl and fuss over a rash of (mostly subpar) remakes over the past several years (“Amityville Horror,” being the most recent), I wonder if it’d be more interesting for us to consider that Hollywood was in the business of recycling from the get-go. Even before there WAS a Hollywood, there was the remake. How many Frankensteins were there before Boris Karloff climbed into his elevator shoes? Okay one. But you get the point. Better: think of all the Hunchbacks, the Jekylls & Hydes and Phantoms of the Opera. In 1926, D.W. Griffith remade “The Sorrows of Satan”–just nine years after the original. There were three versions of “The Cat and the Canary” in fifteen years! But it’s not just horror films that get the rehash treatment. Edwin Porter’s smash hit “The Great Train Robbery” (1903) was remade the following year by some hack producer named Siegmund Leiben. “Stella Dallas,” directed by Henry King, was released in 1925. Twelve years later King Vidor gave us another one, this time with Babs Stanwyck and John Bowles (what a talent, that Bowles). Fast forward 50 years or so and yet another version, starring Bette Midler. Hitchcock remade one of his own films. It’s only a matter of time before another Star is Born. And who can forget Marty Feldman’s “The Last Remake of Beau Geste”? Strange that he was right. It WAS the last remake…
After All These Years, To Believe in Jesus/Narrative-rhea
Did somebody take this blog off its feeding tube? In what is perhaps a misguided attempt to revive it, let me ask a question or a series of interrelated questions:
When not sculpting an exact scale model of Notre Dame from a bar of Zest I spend a great deal of time watching TV—I follow regularly the dramas The Shield, Third Watch (in reruns on A&E), NYPD Blue (until it lamely went off the air a couple of weeks ago), West Wing and 24, as well as The Simpsons, King of the Hill, Malcolm in the Middle; occasionally I also catch various versions of CSI and Law and Order and Raymond. And I am leaving out the various movies—what I see in theaters, what I rent and what I catch glimpses of on TV (god help me, I am so weak I will sit through the whole showing of “Home Dangerous Home†starring Karen Valentine and Richard Crenna on Court TV, only to discover what I already suspected—it wasn’t her husband (Steven Weber) at all but the envious business partner (Morgan Fairchild)).
Continue reading After All These Years, To Believe in Jesus/Narrative-rhea
O Canada
I watched “Waydowntown” last evening, between bouts of grading, which came upon me like the ague. Luckily, the film was funny, often clever, even well-shot. I write about it mostly to offer up a flick maybe you hadn’t heard of that’s worth a look-see; hell, I don’t even know how I heard about it. And then a word or two about Canadian film.
The plot: Office workers, young, full of either ennui or vinegary idealism or both. The narrator–our hero–often slips into surreal flights of fancy. There’s a few flashy camera tricks. Despite all that, the film is funny, understated. My favorite bits involve one worker’s increasing claustrophobia, and her attempts to find refreshment through magazine cologne ads. (The central conceit, as much of a plot as there is, is a bet between 4 workers about staying inside the connected tunnels of the downtown area for as long as possible.) I’m hesitant to say too much–it’s pleasures are limited but worthy. One of those small independent films that actually seems to be independent of trends, hipster style, flashy attempts to break out of the indie ghetto. Instead, it’s pretty comfortable about being the slight, subtle, focused character study it is.
Continue reading O Canada
my own private neverland
michael asked in one of his comments if finding neverland, which i mentioned we were about to watch some nights ago, is worth checking out. i suspect he knows the answer to this question but i’ll provide it anyway.
the film came highly recommended by well-known pornographer, jim kincaid. since he is an authority on such matters ( see the ringing 4th endorsement on this page) i decided to watch it. i knew there wasn’t much likelihood of there really being any uncomfortable investigation of barrie’s relationship with children and childhood (if there were would the film have been nominated for academy awards?) but i wasn’t expecting either the degree to which the film would try to rehabilitate him into a normative marital adult/heterosexual narrative. his wife is cold and unfeeling and unworthy of access to his core self–her final infidelity merely mirrors this. barrie is attracted not just to the davies children but also the mother. the latter attraction the film has the grace to not push too heavily; the former, however, becomes just another getting “in touch with your inner child but not touching it inappropriately” narrative. apparently, there is a little neverland in all of us. whatever.
the michael jackson defense should show this film to the jury.
Sin City
Well, I saw the controversial Sin City last night and my reaction was much closer to Edelstein’s than to Taylor’s. But, of course, that just proves I am in fact a pimply fanboy, aging badly, according to Ella Taylor. And in this aggrieved fanboy mode, can I just ask what kind of reviewer mistakes the barrel of an automatic pistol for a “dagger.” wasn’t she paying attention? The movie looks great and is thrilling. I don’t think you will find well-crafted lessons on “how we live†but something that takes the visual aspect of movies seriously—if you don’t like it, fine, but at least it is fully a movie where every element is working together in a stunning way. Manohla gives it some lukewarm praise but ultimately finds it a bore, as does Hoberman—no doubt in Film Comment both will give it one or two stars while the latest by Godard—a French-accented monologue about “the elusiveness of the past and the duplicities of cinema†accompanying a two hour tracking shot of Isabelle Huppert walking across a Parisian parking lot where all the cars are on fire—receives four. And, by the way, what’s up with skipping Sin City and watching
Continue reading Sin City