tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-226209242010-02-23T03:23:43.578-05:00rob humanicknoreply@blogger.comBlogger155125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1166033956306561532006-12-13T13:17:00.000-05:002006-12-14T10:50:55.088-05:00<p class="MsoNormal">All good things come to an end, and while I’m no sentimentalist, this notion was hammered home in a very personal and unavoidable fashion not long ago when Robert Altman passed from this world. Part of me felt a staggering blow when I first read of his death, while part of me was also shamed by my utter lack of experience in his catalogue (to date, I’ve only seen a handful of his works), as if that disallowed me to feel the same hurt being experienced across the film community. This, of course, is not the case, but is simply part of the many mixed and often irrational emotions that surface in the midst of such a shock.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I bring this up more to finally print some thoughts on the matter than as a justification for my other point in this post: A Film Odyssey is, at least in its current form, coming to an end. I’d grown unhappy with this blog and had been for some time, between the layout and the inconsistency of the contributions, and while Altman’s death isn’t the cause for my deciding to finalize things here, I couldn’t help but feel that the blog had died around the same time, for some time existing in a state of half-decomposed stupor.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">My plan is to initiate a new blog, so it’s not like the new format – whatever it may be – will be that much different from this one. As much as things will change, they will stay the same equally. Many of my old reviews will be reposted (while those from <a href="http://www.strangersong.com/">The Stranger Song</a> and <a href="http://www.slantmagazine.com/">Slant Magazine</a> will remain linked), and newer contributions will hopefully be more regular. I still can’t promise anything – with senior year going full tilt and grad school on the horizon, there are more pressing matters on my schedule far more than I’d like them to be. However, if nothing else, A Film Odyssey taught me a great deal about time management, about craft, and about the appreciation process of art itself. I hope to channel my successes and failures into something more knowing, suitable, and long-lasting.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m still throwing around name ideas for the new location. Something specific yet universal, snazzy sounding, welcoming, and cinematically related – that’s a lot of criteria to accommodate. I’m considering “The Projection Booth,” “Lessons in Darkness,” or something that likens celluloid to a drug experience. Comments and suggestions are encouraged. Otherwise, this will be my last post, save for a link to the new location, once it exists. Hope to see you there.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">UPDATE: The new blog is located here: <a href="http://projectionbooth.blogspot.com/">The Projection Room</a>. This isn't necassarily final, however (I'm still tossing around a name that, while very humorous, could be equally as alienating to potential readers). But for all who are interested, viola!<br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116603395630656153?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1164132883070003702006-11-21T12:58:00.000-05:002006-11-21T13:16:16.186-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/altman.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/altman.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />With time such as it is at the moment, it would be impossible for me to satiate the outpouring of emotions I'm currently having in written form. But today is a dark day, and we've all lost someone very, very precious to us. Rest in piece, Robert.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116413288307000370?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1164102861799053382006-11-21T04:48:00.000-05:002006-11-21T04:54:21.800-05:00Check below for two new mini-reviews, Brian De Palma's sexy <span style="font-style: italic;">Femme Fatale </span>and the dead-on action flick <span style="font-style: italic;">District B13</span>. Expect most new reviews to take on this kind of miniaturized format, which will allow me to put down my thoughts on almost - if not everything - I see, without becoming overwhelmed. Over the next few days, amidst doctor's appointments, Thanksgiving, and a screening of <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0414993/">The Fountain</a> </span>somewhere amidst it all, I hope to cover a few more recent releases in similar format. If time allows, however, I'll indulge myself a bit more in Darren Aronofsky's ambitious sci-fi epic, which I've been eagerly awaiting for nearly three years at this point. Yes, it's a double standard, and no, I don't care.<br /><br />Two new external reviews, one quite good, one amongt the worst of this (or any other) year. Guess which is which.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Slant Magazine:</span> <a href="http://www.slantmagazine.com/film/film_review.asp?ID=2667"><span style="font-style: italic;">Let's Go to Prison</span></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Stranger Song:</span> <a href="http://strangersong.com/?p=98"><span style="font-style: italic;">Casino Royale</span></a><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116410286179905338?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1164102448189431342006-11-21T04:44:00.000-05:002006-11-21T04:47:28.216-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4993/1867/1600/869725/femme-fatale-poster02.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4993/1867/200/110299/femme-fatale-poster02.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Beginning with a so-obvious-it’s-not representation of a viewer in direct connection with the past via film noir, Brian De Palma’s <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0280665/"><i>Femme Fatale</i></a> opens with a magnificently planned robbery that would serve as the centerpiece for many another film; what’s more, it treats this extended sequence as sprightly as a walk in the park, which only heightens the exuding euphoria as layers upon layers of clues, obstacles and miniature revelations reveal themselves with the utmost of ease. In similar fashion, <i>Femme Fatale</i> convinces us that there’s more going on that it’s characters are aware of, when the reality is that the film is always just about to pull the rug out from underneath us. Plot is almost besides the point here, and any such descriptions would threaten to unveil the film’s many wondrous deceptions, the success of which teeter on the thin ledge between the imaginative surrealism of cinema and the silent observations of the films obtusely self-conscious characters. <i>Femme Fatale</i> doesn’t seem as complex a puzzle as David Lynch’s <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0166924/"><i>Mulholland Drive</i></a>, this century’s <i>other</i> film-as-dream masterpiece, but all that changes when its multilayered realities begin to fold back on themselves with breathtaking precision, its deliberately understated views on chance, fate, and our own subconscious tendency to perform our way through life ultimately making them all the more poignant. <i>Femme Fatale</i> both embodies and reflects upon cinema’s tendency to obliterate, as well as build upon, our own dreams and desires.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/star1.gif" align="left" /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/star1.gif" align="left" /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/star1.gif" align="left" /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/star1.gif" align="left" /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116410244818943134?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1164091248760086122006-11-21T01:36:00.000-05:002006-11-21T01:40:48.776-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/districtb13.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/districtb13.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>The French indie actioner <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0414852/"><i>District B13</i></a> serves as the much-needed cinematic antidote for this year’s atrocious <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0404390/"><i>Running Scared</i></a>. While both films use CG enhancement and fancy camerawork to create an internal sense of hyper reality, the aesthetic of Wayne Kramer’s pathetically angst-ridden flop was not unlike rolling around in broken glass, while director Pierre Morel uses his barbarous stylistics to compliment the films rugged terrain; sight and sound meld, rather than clash, into a cohesive adrenal force. Opening with an visually intoxicating foot chase (that would be heavily mirrored – albeit in tasteful fashion – in <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0381061/"><i>Casino Royale</i></a>), the film distills its genre components down to their bare essentials, finding time for genuine character moments amidst its mandatory fulfilling of narrative obligations, which are both sleek and without tedium. Less bombastic than the similarly to-the-point <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0368909/"><i>Ong-Bak</i></a>, <i>District B13</i> keeps its punches and bullets alive by grounding them in genuine moral issues and a kicker of political responsibility, which it incorporates as more than mere lip service. Taking place in 2010, one of the worst sections of Paris has been walled off and all but forgotten by the inept and cynical government; Leïto (David Belle), a criminal born inside the demonized district, is forever at odds with the overruling warlord Taha Bemamud (Bibi Naceri), whose gang members steal a government bomb that undercover cop Damien Tomaso (Cyril Raffaelli) is called in to defuse before it explodes, obliterating everything within the surrounding eight kilometers. Both smart and direct, <i>District B13</i> is the kind of lean, mean action film most of America’s imposters only wish they could pull off.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/star1.gif" align="left" /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/star1.gif" align="left" /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/star1.gif" align="left" /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/none.gif" align="left" /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116409124876008612?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1163593339381558962006-11-15T07:21:00.000-05:002006-11-15T07:24:17.230-05:00<center><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ut6zdE8qWj0"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ut6zdE8qWj0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object></center><br />Only David. I <i>will</i> see this film before the year lets out, so help me God. Even if the bus ticket to New York costs four times the actual ticket, I will see it.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116359333938155896?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1163569615175640062006-11-14T22:53:00.000-05:002006-11-15T08:41:47.636-05:00Time to play catch up, as the crush of the semester has prevented me from tending to things here at even the most minimal of levels. First things first: no more promises, except for that any and all contributions to be inconsistent. It seems that the moment I decide to go on a moderate hiatus, my online time opens up a bit more, and vice versa. Secondly, as another "official" declaration: Screenshot of the Day, as a specifically day to day entry, is no more. Unfortunately, the process became more tedious than expected, since, being unable to watch a movie <span style="font-style: italic;">every </span>day, I quickly had to stretch myself in terms of remembering striking images (that were, in addition, in my DVD collection and ready to be captured). I'll post memorable shots when I have them, but once again, no promises.<br /><br />One new review over at <a href="http://www.slantmagazine.com/index.asp">Slant Magazine</a>, the pretty good and rather sublime J-pop flick <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0468795/"><span style="font-style: italic;">Linda Linda Linda</span></a>, now in limited release in New York. As expected, Ed just asked me to cover the henious looking <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0454987/">Let's Go to Prison</a> </span>this weekend, so expect another linked review come Friday or Saturday. Should time allow over the next few days, I hope to put down some of my thoughts on some recent releases, including (roughly in order of my preference) <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0420609/"><span style="font-style: italic;">Infamous</span></a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0436697/"><span style="font-style: italic;">The Queen</span></a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0482571/"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">The Prestige</span></span></a>, <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0443453/">Borat</a></span>, and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0449467/"><span style="font-style: italic;">Babel</span></a>.<br /><br />Slant Magazine: <a href="http://www.slantmagazine.com/film/film_review.asp?ID=2648"><span style="font-style: italic;">Linda Linda Linda</span></a><br /><br />In other news, Jim Emerson has been kind enough to link to me on his <a href="http://blogs.suntimes.com/scanners/">Scanners blog</a>, and I imagine a good many of you reading this now are here thanks to him. A few posts down you will see my own intended effort at beginning a discussion not unlike his <a href="http://blogs.suntimes.com/scanners/2006/06/movies_101_opening_shots.html">Opening Shots Project</a> (to which I contributed an entry on <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0137523/"><span style="font-style: italic;">Fight Club</span></a>, which can be read <a href="http://blogs.suntimes.com/scanners/2006/07/opening_shots_fight_club.html">here</a>), this time centered around the importance (and examples of) the extended take. Some have contributed so far, and I encourage anyone will feelings on the topic to do the same (p.s. screenshots are darling as well, seeing as what I can provide is limited both by what is already in my collection and my next-to-nothing spending money for renting additional movies of choice). For now, I offer up two below, with accompanying descriptions and screenshots. Both are well known (again, limited DVD collection at my disposal), but are deservingly so, and worthy of the kind of analysis I'd like to foster more of.<br /><br />I'm as of yet unsure as to what can exactly be called an "extended take"; instinct tells me one minute or more, but even so, I'm about to break that rule so as it is (my argument being that the nature of the scene may in effect make it seem longer than it actually is). So, if you're unsure as to whether or not something qualifies, submit it anyway (this includes sequences partially pieced together with CG work, such as <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0120832/">Snake Eyes</a> </span>and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0407304/"><span style="font-style: italic;">War of the Worl</span><span style="font-style: italic;">ds</span></a>).<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;">GoodFellas </span><font>(Martin Scorsese, 1990)</span></span><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><br /><br />Call it mindless adherence to cinematic canon, laziness, or a lack of imagination, but my first contribution to this little project of mine is the famous Copocabana sequence from Scorsese's 1990 masterpiece. At just over three and one-half minutes, it screams of the kind of shot used by a showy director, but Martin seemingly always knows just what pieces are necassary to complete his plethora like cinematic constructions.<br /><br />P.S. Spoilers ahead.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap331.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap331.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />By this point in the film, the viewer is already very much accustomed to the luxuries afforded by Henry Hill's lifestyle, but this sequence represents his future wife Karen's first experience with its elite offerings. Money drives this world, and the sequence plays like a perpetual outpouring of extravagance that Karen very quicky gets drunk off of. Beginning outside the club on the street, the camera follows them as they pass through the crowd waiting outside, downstairs through a basement entrance, through a maze-like kitchen, and into the main dining hall, where a table is promptly brought out for them right at the front of the stage.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap332.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap332.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />This initial descent into the criminal underworld is masked by the benefits it affords, a necassary point to bear in mind when considering just how much <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0099685/">GoodFellas</a> </span>documents Karen's downfall as it does Henry's.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap335.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap335.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap337.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap337.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>"Every time I come here...every time, you two!"<br /><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap339.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap339.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Pop quiz: what kind of fruit to Henry and Karen sample while navigating the kitchen?<br /><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><div style="text-align: 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onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap343.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap343.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br 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style="text-align: 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font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font>A point I want to make about both </span><span style="font-style: italic;">GoodFellas </span>and extended takes on the whole lies, I believe, in the relationship between this and another, less acknowledge "extended" take in the same film (the second one being just over forty seconds in lenght, but more than harrowing enough in my book). It is my opinion that extended takes more readily lend themselves to having intoxicating, hypnotic, or alluring effects on the viewer, and Scorsese uses this to the narrative benefit both above - in showing Karen's first experience with the mob - and below, Karen's first experience with mob violence (and, similarly, our first chance to see Henry carry out an act of violence firsthand). Despite their dark undertones, their allure draws both her and the audience into their groove.<br 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style="text-align: 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onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap344.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap344.jpg" alt="" border="0" 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/span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font>Having just learned of Karen's being molested by her longtime friend and neighbor, Henry, pistol packed in his waistline, marches furiously across her suburban street to the perpetrator's residence, with a look of singular intent and ferocious rage exploding just below the surface of his face.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap345.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap345.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Without a word, he mercilessly pistol whips the sex offender into submission. Is this Henry's first act of altruism in the film, or is it a suburban example of one man claiming his territory over another? Either way, we, the innocent bystanders, are now convinced beyond a doubt that Henry is fully assimilated into his chosen life of crime, as he surely no longer but an errand boy at the cab stand.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap348.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap348.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Just as the Copacabana sequence exhibits Karen's first sampling from this pool, this more subdued scene shows her first exciting glimpse into the violent side of her significant other (cemented by her declaration: "There are some women who would have gotten out of that situation the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. But I didn't. I've got to admit the truth, it turned me on").<br /><br />Might I add that I also love this shot because it exhibits Liotta's trademark intensity, another fine example of which being the criminally underseen 2002 film <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0272207/"><span style="font-style: italic;">Narc</span></a>. Point in case:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap182.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap182.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" >Halloween </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >(John Carpenter, 1978)</span><br /><br />(More spoilers ahead, and potentially offensive - albeit minor - nudity)<br /><br />Carpenter's early horror masterwork is a prime example of cinema posing a point-of-view perspective onto the viewer, albeit with only bits and pieces of information revealed at a time. Actually, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0077651/"></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Halloween</span>'s first seven minutes are consumed by not one, but two incredible extended takes, with the initial opening credits zoom-in on an eerily carved pumpkin often getting shafted in comparison to young Michael's first murderous lurk, itself being nearly two minutes in length and just as subtly frightening as nearly anything else in the film. This sequence, however, would be nothing without the immortal Halloween theme playing over it, a prime example of the unity between image and sound afforded only by film.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap355.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap355.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap356.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap356.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Next comes the making of a legend. Beginning with a disembodied look at the outside of a seemingly typical residence from across the street, the camera glides towards it, skirting to the side to peer through a window, where a teenage girl and her boyfriend are making out in the living room.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap357.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap357.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap358.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap358.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />When the two go upstairs and out of sight, the camera moves back out front to look at an upstairs window, a striking chord on the soundtrack accompanying the light within promptly going out. Prompted by this jealousy-inducing signifier of sex taking place, the camera races to the back of the house and, entering the back door, obtains a kitchen knife before awaiting the boyfriend's departure.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap359.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap359.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap360.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap360.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Creeping upstairs, a hand reaches outward for a clown mask on the floor, and puts it on. Entering the girl's bedroom, the camera - now partially obscured the mask being worn - acknowledges both the girl's nudity and the obviously messy sheets of her bed before unceremoniously stabbing her to death.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap362.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap362.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap363.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap363.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap364.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap364.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap365.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap365.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap366.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap366.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />After her bloody body falls to the floor, the killer returns outside just as a car pulls up to the house. It's occupants, and man and woman of apparent parental status, remove the subject's mask. At that moment, the first cut reveals the perpetrator - a young boy, not ten years of age, his face so void of emotion that we wonder what kind of intent, if any, lie in the actions just committed. This is what makes Michael Myers such an unrivaled manifestation of evil - the lack of clear purpose, intent, or drive. The longing for his sister is suggestive enough, but do we ever glimpse enough to explain his future actions? No, and it is that lack of knowledge that makes him even more fearful (take <span style="font-style: italic;">that</span>, Jason Vorhees!), not to mention that this young boy throws to the wind any preconceptions we might otherwise have about the root of evil.<br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div></div></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116356961517564006?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1162962358895102352006-11-08T00:01:00.000-05:002006-11-08T00:05:58.896-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/Dead_elephant.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/Dead_elephant.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Or maybe vice-versa. <img src="http://i.imdb.com/Photos/CMSIcons/emoticons/basic2/biggrin.gif" /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116296235889510235?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1162962068883729282006-11-07T23:57:00.000-05:002006-11-08T00:01:08.896-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap331.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap331.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116296206888372928?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1162826405813578472006-11-06T10:23:00.000-05:002006-11-06T10:21:13.223-05:00With classwork on the rise, it's time that I officially pronounce the lessened importance of this blog for the time being. Updates will still take place between the Screenshot of the Day entries and screening log updates, but otherwise expect only links to Slant Magazine assignments for any reading material for the time being (speaking of which, check below for a link to the excrutiating <span style="font-style: italic;">Santa Clause 3</span>).<br /><br />I would like to undertake a James Bond marathon in celebration of <span style="font-style: italic;">Casino Royale </span>being released later this month, and while I'm not ruling it out, don't expect it to be consistent or immediate - I'll watch the films in order and as time allows (which means it could take several months to cover all twenty-some films, including the unofficial entries). Meanwhile, I'll maintain the Extended Shots discussion and provide my own thoughts from time to time, but I'm sure anyone can understand that there are things of elevated importance in my life right now. Thanks again to all my readers.<br /><br />Slant Magazine: <a href="http://www.slantmagazine.com/film/film_review.asp?ID=2633"><span style="font-style: italic;">The Santa Clause 3: The Escape Clause</span></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116282640581357847?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1162826364036381262006-11-06T10:17:00.000-05:002006-11-06T10:19:24.060-05:00<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap329.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap329.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116282636403638126?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1162781830450118332006-11-05T21:55:00.000-05:002006-11-05T21:57:10.450-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap322.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap322.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116278183045011833?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1162781689509687602006-11-04T00:49:00.000-05:002006-11-05T21:54:49.573-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap317.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap317.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116278168950968760?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1162532991395838032006-11-03T00:48:00.000-05:002006-11-03T00:49:51.413-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap321.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap321.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116253299139583803?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1162446842746418592006-11-02T00:41:00.000-05:002006-11-02T01:31:19.733-05:00<blockquote>Cinema is truth at twenty-four frames a second. Every edit is a lie.<br />- Jean-Luc Godard</blockquote>An examination of this quote will, in itself, reveal much about the nature and power of the moving image as an art form and how it affects us. "Truth," from this perspective, is something without the question of illusion. Yet what Godard fails to mention here is that artists often use lies to tell the truth, the concept of editing being unique to film and not so easily dismissed purely as a potential means of hiding something from the audience. Film - by its very nature - hides whatever is outside the frame, the camera being the tool that both limits what we see but also sheds what we <span style="font-style: italic;">do</span> see in new lighting. What matters is what the filmmaker chooses to put before his camera, and most of the time the edit is absolutely inherent to its life force. Sure, like any tool in any medium, it can be overused or employed as a crutch, but the right cut at the right moment can be as invigorating as the perfect zoom, pan, or extended take. Could <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0118929/"><i>Dark City</i></a> even exist without its nerve-racking visual rhythms? And where would we be without Sir Lawrence's simple extinguishing of a match that instantly reveals a breathtaking sunrise over the desert?<br /><br />Yet there's also something inherently and undeniably breathtaking about the extended take. Visual trickery being far from a bad thing, it is nonetheless more convincing and immediately <i>real</i> when the audience can see the progression of events without interruption, as if they are the ones there. In order to highlight this from my own personal experiences, recall an early scene, if you will, from <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0167404/"><i>The Sixth Sense</i></a>. Haley Joel Osmond's character Cole is odds with his mother, who cannot believe his supernatural claims ("I see dead people."). While Cole is eating breakfast, she leaves the kitchen to gather some laundry - the camera never moving away from her path or cutting to a different take - and after but a few moments out of the room, she returns to find the entire quarter disheveled: plates and silverware strewn about, and every cabinet door open, but with Cole still sitting as if he'd never moved. I was well aware of just how quickly the off-screen crewmembers must have scrambled into the room to make such a mess, but more immediately, I was unnerved by the reality of the situation. There was no way one little boy could have done so much damage (and quietly, at that) in those few seconds -- I had seen it all with my own eyes, without interruption.<br /><br />In reality, <span style="font-style: italic;">The Sixth Sense </span>(just an okay film in my book) is far from a great example of the extended take, this particular case somewhat lending itself to the often shallow gimmicks Shyamalan employs (at a prepubescent age, however, it left quite an impression). Just because an extended take took incredible planning to pull off by no means makes it a great aesthetic achievement, and that's part what I'm trying to create a discussion on. Here at "A Film Odyssey," one of my chief concerns and interests is the manner in which images affect us at a basic level. After a recent viewing of <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0099685/">GoodFellas</a> </span>(which I've seen no less than a dozen times), I was again struck by the famous tracking shot that follows Henry and Karen from the street and through the internal maze of the night club. It's not just the fact that the camera remains fixated on these two people for minutes at a time, but what it communicates about how they relate to each other and how they exist in the world around them.<br /><br />Perhaps calling this a survey is too limiting, although I do ask that anyone interested in contributing nominate via comment their favorite extended take (as an example, however, I will not make my ultimate choice of nomination until near the closing of the polls, as their is much I can and plan on learning between now and then). However, I also want this to be a place were people can come and present lesser-known examples for the enlightenment of everyone else - those that are perhaps less famous than the sequences of <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0052311/">Touch of Evil</a> </span>or <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0054159/"><span style="font-style: italic;">The Passenger</span></a>, but just as enthralling. My goal is to keep this up for one month (perhaps longer, depending on the reception), and come December we can look back on the dialogue that took place and examine what ultimately surfaced in the end. Anyone who cares to describe the effect a particular shot had on them, how it works, etc., can e-mail me and I will feature it in a post all its own, hopefully with screenshots to aid in the examination.<br /><br />I'll acknowledge my inspiration from Jim Emerson's <a href="http://blogs.suntimes.com/scanners/opening_shots_project/">Opening Shots Project</a> right off the bat, as well as <a href="http://www.andyhorbal.blogspot.com/">No More Marriages!</a> poll of the <a href="http://andyhorbal.blogspot.com/2006/09/survey.html">Best American Film of the last 25 Years</a> (I didn't fully realize how those efforts subtly influenced my own thought processes until about two sentences ago). The many contributions featured at Jim's <a href="http://blogs.suntimes.com/scanners/">Scanners</a> blog helped immensely in widening my own understanding of the immediate and lasting effect of a film's opening shot, and it is a knowledge that has positively affected everything I've watched since. Here, I hope to dive deep into another organ within the intricate innards of cinema, emerging perhaps a bit messy, but ultimately more knowledgeable and appreciative of that which I love. I hope the experience can be a collective effort.<br /></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116244684274641859?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1162449115348079742006-11-02T00:20:00.000-05:002006-11-02T01:31:55.350-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap319.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap319.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116244911534807974?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1162405932102120762006-11-01T13:29:00.000-05:002006-11-01T13:32:12.133-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap318.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap318.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116240593210212076?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1162318559556082282006-10-31T13:07:00.000-05:002006-10-31T13:15:59.576-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap250.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap250.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116231855955608228?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1162271360913024572006-10-30T23:50:00.000-05:002006-10-31T00:09:20.930-05:00Here it is, October 30th. The clock at the bottom right hand corner of the screen reads 11:41. (For anyone interested, the song playing on my iTunes is Genesis' "Land of Confusion"). 30 days ago I vowed to undertake a marathon of horror films, and that I did, even if I didn't reach my intended quota; it was for this specific reason that I didn't call it "31 Days of Horror" a la my source of inspiration, notcoming.com. In many ways, this was a multi-layered experiment. While I've been watching movies from a critical slant for nearly half my life, this blog is still in its infancy, and anyone who has ever tried to maintain one of these things with a sense of consistency and quality knows what a taxing strain it can be. Were this the only thing that I had to committ my time to, I'd be bowing my head before you in shame at my failure. Instead, I'm chalking it up to experience, neither satisfied nor disappointed. More important at this stage of the game are the regular assignments my classes demand, my applying to graduate school, and in general not wearing myself out in the process.<br /><br />I hope to repeat my Horror Marathon next year, and every one thereafter. Says Rumsey Taylor of notcoming.com: "In preparation for our feature, I've combed through the horror section of a few local video stores, and selected titles based soley on their cover art and capsule descriptions. Granted, a lot of these ended up being wholly terrible films, but a terrible film can inspire an interesting review. Plus, this tactic has resulted in at least a few gems I wouldn't have found otherwise." It's a grin-inducing suggestion I plan on taking up in due time. More than anything this time around, however, I learned about the single most crucial virtue one can have when approaching such an undertaking: time management. You may not see all the results here, but there were times during these past four weeks when I was amazed at the level of productivity I was able to pull off (not to mention appalled at how incredibly <i>un</i>productive I could be if I pushed myself too hard at any given time and, concurrently, burned myself out as a result).<br /><br />Some thoughts for the future. I plan on continuing these "marathons" if and when the appropriate time comes, although - as fun as this exercise in masochism has been - I'll have to be less stringent on myself as long as I retain the status of "student." Here's a teaser: in celebration of the release of the upcoming <i>Casino Royale</i>, I hope to watch and review all the James Bond films (including the "unofficial" entries, and maybe even an <i>Austin Powers</i> or two for good sport), although this will be done on an as-is-possible basis. If a draft for my Chinese Government class is due tomorrow, then <i>The Man With the Golden Gun</i> can and will wait. If anyone out there is indeed waiting with baited breath for the next unveiling of my thoughts, I am indeed flattered, but I do think you can also sympathize with my need to justify a multi-thousand dollar-per-month education (also, if you are out there, please post! I thank those of you who have already, but keep in mind that the more feedback I receive the more enthused I am to continue my own output).<br /><br />You may have noticed a new idea I've implemented in some of the most recent posts. "Screenshot of the Day" is a daily-post idea that I've seen employed on other blogs, and think it will be beneficial to A Film Odyssey for several reasons. First of all, it keeps things moving; even if I'm drowning in a quicksand of political theory and research materials, I can easily grab a DVD from my shelf, find a striking composition, snap a screenshot (thank you for the program, Aubrey!), and post it for all to see. I enjoy combining both textual and visual means of communication here, and sometimes it's better to <i>show</i> a powerful image than it is to describe the effects it creates in the mind and the heart. I won't name the films these images come from (in general, I'll try to avoid major spoiler images as well; but you're more than welcome to guess), but I will certainly engage in any discussions that follow regarding the nature of the chosen image. This way, you, the reader, can actually <i>see</i> these images (albeit in static form, until I get a GIF creator) that move me to the point of dedicating a good portion of my life to them.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116227136091302457?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1162270168369080092006-10-30T23:46:00.000-05:002006-10-30T23:49:28.383-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap176.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap176.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116227016836908009?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1162183760517324282006-10-29T23:42:00.001-05:002006-10-29T23:49:20.516-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap325.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap325.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116218376051732428?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1162074980529139082006-10-28T18:34:00.000-04:002006-10-28T18:36:20.530-04:00I'm digging this quite a bit, being a moderate fan of U2 and Green Day being a long-time favorite. I'll be buying the single ASAP.<br /><br /><center><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/seGhTWE98DU"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/seGhTWE98DU" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object></center><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116207498052913908?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1162061642054393372006-10-28T14:48:00.000-04:002006-10-31T00:21:20.533-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cover145.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/cover145.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Says a female television executive in <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0078935/maindetails"><i>Cannibal Holocaust</i></a>: “Today people want sensationalism. The more you rape their senses the happier they are.” Count me out of this demographic – one of many laughable examples of the film’s attempts to justify itself as some sort of moral examination on cultural violence and the destructive effects of imperialism. A group of four documentary filmmakers travel deep into the Amazonian to see what they can uncover about the supposed cannibal tribes who reside there. No surprise: none of them are ever heard from again. When NYU Professor Harold Monroe (Robert Kerman) attempts to uncover their whereabouts (or those of their remains), he and his rescue team are able to establish good relations with one of the native tribes, only to discover the fallen foursomes remains and the footage they shot, which includes – to name but a few instances of gut churning violence – native rituals involving forced abortions, rape with a stone penis as a punishment for adultery, full body impalements, communal rape of a native by the male filmmakers, and the decapitation and dismemberment of (real) animals.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0335345/"><i>The Passion of the Christ</i></a> always struck me as being gratuitous in its use of violence without context (and extensively, without any real meaning behind it), but Mel Gibson’s torture chamber piece should be considered a humanitarian effort worthy of the Nobel Peace Prize compared to this. A proud supporter of free speech myself, the most offensive aspect of <i>Cannibal Holocaust</i> is its disingenuous claim to supporting said rights - a shallow attempt to frame its exploitation as a protest against exploitation itself. Reads the opening title crawl: “As distributors of this film, we wish to state with absolute sincerity that by no means do we condone the artistic decisions employed by the makers of this film. However, as firm believers in the constitutional right of free speech, we do not believe in censorship.” Let me add myself to the many who have already called this out as complete bullshit, a moral reach-around that, even if it were well intended, forgets that free speech has never been an absolute (let’s hope all screenings of the film end with the distribution of civic books to the audience), and that snuff films would never be permitted under the Constitution. Violence in film can indeed be a powerful tool, particularly when used to examine elements of reality that demand moral grappling and intense philosophic inquiry.<br /><br /><i>Cannibal Holocaust</i> would like you to think it serves this purpose; at the very least, it wants to package its gorefest in such a way that junkies who get off on it don’t immediate check themselves into some sort of moral rehab (something I whole heartedly recommend to anyone who enjoys this for its gore factor - if they're not already beyond help). While the collected footage is screened for TV producers who wish to use such “sensational” material to draw higher ratings, the film regularly cuts back and forth between the worst of the material being projected and the reactions of the audience, whose glazed-over eyes may as well be watching <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0250868/"><i>Howdy Doody</i></a>. After all said and done, the professor wanders outside to the New York cityscape, thinking via voiceover: “I wonder who the real cannibals are” (presumably to gorehounds dropping their jaws in a moment of purportedly profound realization). The completely heinous nature of the film, however, is exposed through its own inconsistencies, from the pseudo-artsy scoring of supposedly raw footage (what’s the decapitation and cannibalization of a human without flowery synthesized music?) to the fact that real animals were used for this self-proclaimed expose on the evil within men (as far as horror films serving as commentaries on our obsession with violence in the media go, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0395584/"><span style="font-style: italic;">The Devil's Rejects</span></a> puts this thing to shame). For years now, I’ve called <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0172156/"><i>Bad Boys II</i></a> the single worst thing I’d ever watched, my depthless hatred for it refusing to cease or even diminish. Yet at this moment, I’d rather cuddle intimately with Michael Bay before ever coming close to this atrocity again.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/none.gif" align="left" /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/none.gif" align="left" /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/none.gif" align="left" /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/none.gif" align="left" /><br /><br />Feature: <a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/horror-marathon-2006.html">Horror Marathon 2006</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116206164205439337?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1161887088435531522006-10-26T14:20:00.000-04:002006-10-26T14:24:48.436-04:00Thank some deft time management, a slight diminish in academic responsibilites, and a heluva lot of Mountain Dew for the handful of new Horror Marathon entries located below. Also, over at Slant is my latest contribution, coverage of the wonderful documentary <i>The World According to Sesame Street</i> which aired on PBS this Tuesday and is also available on DVD. More to come - hopefully - this weekend. If I fail in meeting my quota of 31 horror films for the month, no one can say I didn't try.<br /><br />Slant: <a href="http://www.slantmagazine.com/tv/tv_review.asp?ID=36"><i>The World According to Sesame Street</i></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116188708843553152?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1161886683599991782006-10-26T13:40:00.000-04:002006-10-26T14:18:04.353-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/nightofthelivingdead.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/nightofthelivingdead.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>“They’re coming to get you, Barbra,” taunts the belligerent Johnny, well aware of his sisters’ innate fear of cemeteries – nighttime encroaching, no less – amidst whiny complaints of his own about the tedious process involved in visiting their father’s grave site and the three-hour drive home that awaits them. His disrespect of the dead quickly catches up with him, when the lurking individual he referenced actually attacks his sister and subsequently knocks him out cold, Barbra fleeing to a nearby deserted farm house before suffering a complete nervous breakdown. <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0063350/"><i>Night of the Living Dead</i></a> was a shockwave of culturally lined horror when it first circulated nickelodeon theaters in 1968, and like any great work, it has allowed us to endlessly reinterpret it with new eyes ever since. What was once a pale allegory for 60’s racism can now be seen as America’s political failures after September 11th, 2001 (in that it turned inward on itself with xenophobic zeal rather than addressing the real problems at hand), no small achievement for a low-budget horror flick made in the outskirts of Pittsburgh.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap311.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/cap311.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Those who prefer their horror dealt out as formally as possible might take <i>Night of the Living Dead</i> as camp, but what frightens us most often has that slightly unreal quality, and between its completely un-subtle scoring and sporadic use obtuse camera angles, <i>Night</i> approximates these fears more than efficiently. Barbra is the initial audience surrogate; we may have seen the title of the film, but we know no more than the characters do in regards to what the hell is happening. For her, the unfolding events represent the manifestation of her deepest childhood fears, and for us there is a retroactive similarity to September 11th, with the surviving humans crowding around the television and radio eagerly awaiting updates on the situation (one begs the question: would the Bush administration be able to handle a zombie epidemic, or would we all be as supremely fucked as New Orleans?). But even without these real-world parallels, <i>Night of the Living Dead</i> works its purebred terror without mercy. Says Roger Ebert in his <a href="http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/19670105/REVIEWS/701050301/1023">initial coverage of the film</a>: “The kids in the audience were stunned…The movie had stopped being delightfully scary about halfway through, and had become unexpectedly terrifying. There was a little girl across the aisle from me, maybe nine years old, who was sitting very still in her seat and crying…I saw kids who had no resources they could draw upon to protect themselves from the dread and fear they felt.”<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap312.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/cap312.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>The film didn’t have quite this much of an effect on my self during my first viewing (a horror buff at a young age, staying up past my bedtime to watch in on the Sci-Fi channel was nothing short of a religious experience, and one of the foundations of my love for film) – by age ten, I was already pretty seasoned in the genre’s gore quotient – but never for a moment have I chalked its violence and gore up to something that can be laughed off. The film shows you just enough tangible violence to inflame the nerves of your imagination, making everything else that is only suggested infinitely more nerve racking (the opening scenes track a car's approach and arrival at a cemetary with distant, static shots, as if suggesting a malevolent presence watching from afar). <i>Night</i>’s half-eaten corpse (eyeball staring outward from the flesh-stripped skull) might not match <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0077402/"><i>Dawn</i></a>’s exploding head opener, yet there’s hardly a thing here that isn’t the stuff of our collective nightmares. Confusion of the unknown largely plays into this fear factor; before news updates reveal that the wave of murders sweeping the country is being compounded by the fact that the killers are <i>eating</i> their victims (who in turn come back to life to continue said behavior), all we and the characters know is that strange human figures are on the prowl with a decidedly unreal lurk about them.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap309.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/cap309.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>The film is rightfully credited with forging the mold and “rules” of the modern zombie genre. Zombies are dead humans come back to life (!), zombies need to eat live human flesh (!!), a zombie can be killed by decapitation, killing the brain, or incineration (!!!), and anyone bitten by a zombie will become a zombie in time (!!!!). Ultimately, seven people are held up within the farm house, with the number of flesh-eaters outside escalating by the dozens as the night progresses. As their ranks increase, the humans begin to quarrel over whose in charge and what plan of action needs to be taken: Ben (Duane Jones) wants to stay upstairs, where the zombies’ activity can be monitored and an escape can be made if necessary; Harry Cooper (Karl Hardman) wants to hole up in the basement, an admittedly stronger fortress, but lacking an escape route should the zombies break in. That they are black and white, respectively, is wisely left an ambiguous factor in their antagonism towards each other, but while Romero denies that the racial implications of <i>Night of the Living Dead</i> were wholly unintended at the time, the general state of tension and the ultimate reflection of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s assassination cannot simply be ignored.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap315.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/cap315.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>If one theme of <i>Night of the Living Dead</i> emerges from all the rest, it would be a general attitude of nihilism towards the state of humanity, a theme that would only continue to escalate in both volume and complexity over the course of Romero’s career. Here, the zombies are an inexplicable “other,” a lightning rod for Vietnam instilled anxieties, but very much an immediate cause for alarm that only underscores the live human’s inability to cooperate in a time of crisis. No cannibalism is committed in the film, but when characters turn on each other in desperate attempts to ensure their own survival, the similarity to the flesh-eating undead is unsettling in no small manner. <i>Dawn of the Dead</i>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0088993/"><i>Day of the Dead</i></a>, and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0418819/"><i>Land of the Dead</i></a> would further these appropriately cynical attitudes, and fans of the series (myself include) debate endlessly as to their comparative worth. Yet there’s something pure and unstoppable about <i>Night of the Living Dead</i>, perhaps a result of it’s incredibly low-budget and the visceral energy that often comes about from such a production. It is the seminal modern horror film.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/star1.gif" align="left" /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/star1.gif" align="left" /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/star1.gif" align="left" /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/star1.gif" align="left" /><br /><br />Feature: <a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/horror-marathon-2006.html">Horror Marathon 2006</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116188668359999178?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0