tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-226209242011-12-14T10:12:37.516-05:00rob humanicknoreply@blogger.comBlogger1551100tag: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.com11tag: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.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1161840474387965452006-10-26T01:19:00.000-04:002006-10-26T01:27:54.403-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/whitezombie.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/whitezombie.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Long before the days of flesh-eating ghouls (and even longer before the days that said ghouls could vigorously cover far distances by means of sprinting), zombies – while still referred to as the “living dead” – were more case for alarm as a manifestation of voodoo and supernatural evil rather than virus-transmitting corpses. <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0023694/"><i>White Zombie</i></a> knows nothing of George Romero (or Rob Zombie, for that matter), and nor is it as much a horror film as it is a talky melodrama with supernatural overtones. However, it does feature one of Bela Lugosi’s most overlooked performances, one that, due to poor business management, he earned a mere $500 for. That the film (which is readily available in the public domain) has generally fallen into disrepair is of little benefit, but it does offer an entertaining glimpse into the blossoming characteristics of the emerging horror drama, even if it doesn’t quite deliver the goods compared to many of its brethren of the time.<br /><br />Opening with an unsettling shot of a burial site located in the middle of a road (where the Haiti natives bury their dead so as to dissuade potential grave robbers), <i>White Zombie</i> is intensely focused on its environment even when it suffers from the limitations of early silent filmmaking. While nowhere near as stagnant as <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0021814/"><i>Dracula</i></a>, but hardly as invigorating as <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0021884/"><i>Frankenstein</i></a>, <i>White Zombie</i> – perhaps unintentionally – builds a resonant trance all its own, reflecting the presence of the silent and soulless undead onto the audience. Lugosi is a shady witch doctor known to use resurrected corpses for slave labor in his sugar plantation; a love stricken man, hoping to win over the heart of an otherwise engaged girl, seeks his aid in gaining her attention. A special drug is used to fake her death, but the disappearance of her coffin and body finds her tortured husband hunting down clues as to her whereabouts, dead or alive. The ensuing climax is both predictable and exciting, wrapping up its tale with the triumphant power of love in the face of evil. <i>White Zombie</i>’s better qualities are most undercut by how quickly they dissipate once all is said and done.<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/half-1.gif" align="left" /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/none.gif" align="left" /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/03.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/03.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><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/22620924-116184047438796545?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1161838605224140372006-10-26T00:51:00.000-04:002006-10-26T00:56:45.246-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/wolfmanlegacydvd.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/wolfmanlegacydvd.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>James Whale’s homoerotic subversions aside, the Universal monster films, by their very nature, weren’t exactly open to the greatest range of subtext. This makes it all the more refreshing to see a gem like <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0034398/"><i>The Wolf Man</i></a>, which creates a far more nuanced and affecting personal conflict than many another works with far bigger canvas’s on which to work. Like 1933’s <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0024184/"><i>The Invisible Man</i></a>, there is no true villain at the center of <i>The Wolf Man</i>, only a protagonist whose better intentions have been subverted by an unforeseen conflict in which they were ill-prepared. The plot is miniscule: the always well-meaning Larry Talbot (Lon Chaney Jr., surely making his father proud) returns to his family home after a prolonged absence, meaning to take over the estate when his aging father retires. A night of harmless company with two local girls takes a turn for the worse when one is attacked and killed by a prowling wolf; only Larry sees the creature, and is able to kill it with his silver-capped cane, but not without suffering a bite first. When the policemen arrive at the scene, a dead man lies were the wolf had previously been, and Larry’s wound has mysteriously vanished the following morning. The plot thickens.<br /><br />It is more than debatable as to how much of the film’s immense sympathy for its tragic main character comes from Chaney’s immense performance, which even manages to translate through the thick and awkward-looking werewolf makeup during his few scenes of transformation. His mammalian gestures are awkward at first, but come to convey the twisted humanity at the core of the unwilling man who awakens each morning only to learn of a new murder having taken place the night before. His periods of change often leaving him in a state of amnesia afterwards, it takes some time before Larry is even sure that he contracted the curse of the werewolf from his supposed bite, having been half-convinced that all signs of it are but a manifestation of his mind. The script offers little in the way of new material to the genre, but perhaps it is too easy to take for granted the film’s immense sympathy for its characters. Likewise, <i>The Wolf Man</i> features some of the most ravishing use of set design during this era of the genre, particularly emphasizing a sense of depth to create mood, while the swirling smoke and fog often parallels Larry’s own indistinguishable moral quagmire. Many of the best horror films are so because of what the expose within our selves, the fear of being unable to sway one’s own potential for evil being the central conceit here.<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" /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/wolf_man.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/wolf_man.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><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/22620924-116183860522414037?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1161807604271110632006-10-25T16:16:00.000-04:002006-10-25T16:20:04.293-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/blobpost.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/blobpost.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Thank (or blame - you decide) David Cronenberg’s 1986 masterpiece remake of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0091064/"><i>The Fly</i></a> for the existence of the 1988 remake of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0094761/"><i>The Blob</i></a>, a box office cash-in that is neither particularly good, bad, or ugly. Instead, it falls into the rare camp of being a quizzically interesting companion piece, building upon <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0051418/">the original</a>’s muted, suggested horrors with visually graphic gore and replacing the McCarthyist overtones with unquestionably anti-government sentiments and a fear of rampant religious zeal. While one can’t help but miss the original’s title song by a young Burt Bacharach, there is no doubt that this remake is a truly no-bars-held <i>horror</i> film, with each additional victim of the updated blob meeting their end in an increasingly grizzly set piece. Sure as anything, some delinquent teenagers discover the creature long before anyone else chooses to acknowledge its deadly presence. By the time the U.S. military arrives to “contain the organism,” bodies have been incinerated (externally <i>and</i> internally), phone-booth fortresses have been imploded, and entire bodies have been drug, kicking and screaming, down the kitchen sink. No, this is not for the squeamish.<br /><br />What separates this version of its 50’s counterpart, and – in a weird way, justifies its very existence – is its reframing of the main narrative points (here be spoilers), the blob no longer being a mysterious, insatiable visitor from afar, but a government-created virus deliberately sent into outer space in hopes of it mutating into the ultimate bio-weapon. When the developing creatures’ activity sent its meteorite vessel out of orbit and crashing to the earth below, the quickly digested town folk are but collateral damage to the power-hungry weapons manufacturers, whose corrupt ambitions are quickly cut short when they prove unable to control their own creation. Don’t count on your handy genre clichés here – no one, not nice guys, cute animals, or even children are safe from the government’s ever-growing creation (i.e. capitalism). Unlike the silent absorption of the original jell-o blob (would that make this one Blob 2.0?), this re-imagination is full of tendrils, layers, and ever-shifting masses, and its victims go anything but quietly into the pink abyss. Such a merciless film (many of its special effects being quite disturbing, screen cap below case in point) seems the appropriate response to the embittered feelings of the 80’s, yet none of the bone-snapping or flesh-dissolving chills come close to equaling the final shot, which suggests even greater terrors to come, this time in the name of God.<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/half-1.gif" align="left" /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/none.gif" align="left" /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap306.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap306.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><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/22620924-116180760427111063?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1161805880392779292006-10-25T15:42:00.000-04:002006-10-25T15:51:21.436-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/blob_poster.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/blob_poster.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>If artists use lies to tell the truth, then movies often use the impossible to expose the realities of the world (or do they?). Such is the case with any number of monster / alien invasion / horror films from the 1950’s, when growing cold war anxieties and a lingering fear of communism were a part of daily life. Certainly, many of these were but limp genre exercises, now (rightly) existing primarily to be seen as features on <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0094517/"><i>Mystery Science Theater 3000</i></a>. One stellar allegory was <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0049366/"><i>Invasion of the Body Snatchers</i></a>, which replaced the mental invasion of communism with a physical one exercised by socialist aliens from afar. The filmmakers deny that this connection was intended, but how many artists even think of themselves as such in the first place? So goes my argument for <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0051418/"><i>The Blob</i></a> as another sci-fi allegory for communism; specifically, from a crackpot McCarthyism perspective, the titular, globby invader equal to the slowly encroaching economic secularism that threatened to absorb everyone into a unified whole. Better dead than red, they say. Here, they’re one and the same.<br /><br /><i>The Blob</i>’s genre conventions were as old as the hills even in 1958, the key difference being the film’s sly subtext, pitch-perfect approximations and boundless sense of fun. A theater packed full of teenagers for a “midnight spook fest” – showcasing obviously silly flicks of the genre – earns an eye roll from the embittered projectionist, only moments before he too is consumed by the silent, deadly goo. If nothing else, the movie – sensing the absurdity of its subject matter – certainly knows how to poke fun at itself. Two teens on their first date (Aneta Corsaut and Steve McQueen, both in their first roles) see a shooting star crash to earth and decide to look for the impact sight; shortly thereafter, they stumble upon an old man with a red, parasitic growth on his hand, agonizing in pain. The local doctor agrees sees the stricken man just as he’s heading out to a medical convention in a nearby city; when Steve (McQueen, sharing the same first name) sees the now larger red form attacking the doctor (who is nowhere to be found thereafter) later that night, no one believes him. Says a friendly local cop: “There’s nothing going on here that can’t wait until morning.” Yet the blob, growing larger and more powerful with each additional victim, will be an incredible force by sunrise, and if it takes some disturbance of the peace to bring it out in the open, so be it; the silently malevolent, godless forces of communism were already hard at work long before anyone chose to acknowledge them (i.e. we <i>will</i> walk in fear of one another).<br /><br />The focus on youth as a source of salvation permeates the film’s flawless plotting: determined in the face of ridicule, Steve ultimately rallies together his punk friends to wake up the entire town in the middle of the night so as to get the warning out. Too late: the blob, now dozens of times its original size, has made its presence known beyond any doubt, and unswayed by the citizens’ efforts to stop it with gunfire, acid, electricity, and fire. Backed into a diner’s basement with no way out, Steve tries to extinguish the incinerating building with a handy fire extinguisher, only to discover that CO2 – cold – drives the monster away. “I don’t think it can be killed,” says police chief Dave, but it can be contained and removed from the population it once partially assimilated. To ensure that the mysterious life form never thaws out, the military drops the frozen creature into the artic, where it will remain safe “as long as the artic stays cold.” Thus, <i>The Blob</i>’s cheeky resolve becomes and unintentionally retroactive criticism against the Bush administrations insistence on turning a blind eye towards global warming. Cheeky indulgence into reckless political beliefs has rarely been as fun as it is here.<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/half-1.gif" align="left" /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap308.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap308.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><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/22620924-116180588039277929?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1161658245664545802006-10-23T22:48:00.000-04:002006-10-23T22:50:45.680-04:00Once again, despite my tendency to rant and rave about everything wrong with the world, I've realized that, deep down, I have to be an optimist. Why? Because stuff like this still manages to evoke a response:<br /><br /><center><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mHRqe9L56t4"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mHRqe9L56t4" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object></center><br /><br />Words cannot express my disgust. Nonetheless, I can't wait for the movie.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116165824566454580?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1161631877919776392006-10-23T15:24:00.000-04:002006-10-23T15:31:17.940-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/poster305.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/poster305.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0026138/"><i>Bride of Frankenstein</i></a> represents director James Whale at the top of his form, as well as what is arguably the best film to emerge from Universal’s monster series (as well as one of the finest sequel films ever made). Effortlessly shifting gears between sly camp, satire, drama and horror, it extends the original film (framed as the actual story by Mary Shelley, despite numerous changes from her actual novel) after the supposed death of the monster, who somehow survived the fire only to emerge from the wreckage, bruised but not broken. The many subversive themes – religion, science, the nature of man, etc. – all take backseat to the dexterous manipulation of genre in the name of unrivaled entertainment. <i>Bride of Frankenstein</i> both uses and forges clichés (was this the first film to feature a self-destruct mechanism?) in perfectly approximated portions, its sly wit largely the result of the Mr. Whale being forced to weave his potentially offensive material beneath the film’s surface. Today’s Hollywood barely has tolerance for gay sensibilities, let alone that of 1935. Retroactively speaking, we’re all the better for it; <i>Bride of Frankenstein</i> is a time capsule of subversive cinematic triumph over tyrannical normative standards.<br /><br />Few films of the genre have better employed caricature, yet through its overtly expressive performances emerges its subtle queerness; unlike the attention-calling drag queen, <i>Bride of Frankenstein</i> turns standard conventions on their head in ways oblivious to those who would rule otherwise. While Bryan Singer used his <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0120903/"><i>X-Men</i></a> films to reflect on gay acceptance in the early 21st Century (albeit with limited success, even before Brett Ratner took things down the road of the atrocious LCD spectacle), James Whale channels these feelings of alienation through Karloff’s monster, who yearns to be loved even if he looks different on the surface. The comparison only holds up so far, admittedly; the monster is prone to murderous rampages when crossed, and clearly desires the notion of a <i>fe</i>male counterpart. But these are only surface manifestations, and politics and sexuality aside, what remains in his story is the basic longing for acceptance. There’s a childlike gratefulness in his eyes when he happens upon a blind hermit who takes him in, one of the few who hasn’t passed judgment based on his externalities.<br /><br />From mistress Minnie’s gut-bustingly hysterical outbursts to the exaggerated gothic overtones during the final laboratory set scenes, the film walks a fine line between the sly and the silly and emerges triumphantly between the two; Whale’s manipulation is plainly obvious, but no less deft as a result. Case in point: once the final experiment gets underway, the cinematography switches to intensely skewed angles and muggy facial shots, heightening the intensity of the mood and increasing the sense of personal conflict. It’s never in question that this is a movie very much aware of itself, from the forebodingly obvious sets to the self-gratifying score, but there’s no trace of selfishness in how readily the movie deals out the goods to the audience. Reprising the monster, Karloff is as brimming with humanity as ever; although he opposed the choice, that the monster learns to talk (not unlike a toddler acquiring necessary life skills) in this film only increases his dramatic and emotional potential. Ditto Colin Clive as Dr. Frankenstein once more, but perhaps most notable here are the newcomers: Ernest Thesiger as Dr. Pretorius and Elsa Lanchester as the titular bride (quite possibly the most infamy any cinematic character has gained per minutes of screen time). As a purely cinematic exercise, <i>Bride of Frankenstein</i> comes close to being unrivaled.<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 /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/bride.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/bride.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><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/22620924-116163187791977639?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1161620033636414572006-10-23T11:48:00.000-04:002006-10-23T12:13:53.740-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/wickermandvd.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/wickermandvd.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Horror in <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0070917/"><i>The Wicker Man</i></a> comes equally from those qualities that forsake genre conventions as it does those that emulate them. Exposed here are the barbarities of the human action in the name of religion, of the damning power of intolerance. Taken at face value, religion is but a set of unverifiable answers to a series of unanswerable questions; belief in the unknown can indeed be a comforting approach to take to many of life’s troubles, but look no further than the Crusades, slavery, the WTC attacks and everything thereafter to see but a fraction of what has been committed in the name of religion. <i>The Wicker Man</i> assumes a more specific, but equally damning, approach to this notion, employing a deceptively typical whodunit narrative only to blindside the viewer with the unexpectedly inhumane yet perfectly consequential climax. The film may be bloodless, but at a humanitarian level it trumps even <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0335345/"><i>The Passion of the Christ</i></a> in its ability to disturb (in this case, too, these troubling qualities are productive – rather than reductive – in nature).<br /><br />Arriving on a secluded island (“famous for its fruit and vegetables”) after an anonymous report concerning a missing girl, Sergeant Howie (Edward Woodward) quickly undergoes a state of massive culture shock. Raised an ardent Christian and still an unmarried virgin, the open frankness towards sexuality (schoolgirls discuss the phallic symbol as a regular lesson) and public copulation – both common and somewhat expected behaviors in the village – only enrage him further when he discovers that his own religion is studied as but an “alternative” in the region. His unshakable faith is upset by his inability to imagine it coexisting with any other (and a generally defensive, power-hungry attitude to boot), although his suspicions of foul play and potential murder aren’t completely unfounded (eerily foreshadowed by Christopher Lee’s Lord Summerisle, his own personal favorite role, this being his favorite film of all he ever partook in). If the mystery surrounding the affairs on the island feel somewhat contrived, that’s largely the point: Howie is so absorbed with defending his own life choices (by means of denouncing others) that he fails to see the larger picture before it is too late.<br /><br />The sexual practices of the village are certainly uneasy but nonetheless grounding in a recognizable reality; only when their religious practices begin to reveal themselves (during the climactic May Day celebrations) does the culture shock transpose itself onto the viewer. They appear as any religious practices would appear to an outsider, but while their pagan rituals (heavily characterized by nudity and a use of animal imagery) are atypically bizarre on the surface, the kinship they share with even familiar religious behaviors is what lends them their most internally dreadful qualities. The film’s austere visual compositions and loose framing increases this sense of a familiar-yet-unfamiliar setting, only for the potent images to take peel back the layers of meaning as the truly terrible truths lurking behind the surface of things reveal themselves. The film shares more in common with Shirley Jackson's "The Lottery" than anything even remotely close to the slasher genre, which is to say that it’s more profoundly disturbing than any amount of bloodletting could hope to be. In the end, it makes one of the best cases for taking up atheism imaginable.<o:p></o:p><br /><br />Note: This review concerns the 88-minute theatrical version of the film, specifically.<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/half-1.gif" align="left" /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/Wicker_Man_001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/Wicker_Man_001.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><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/22620924-116162003363641457?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1161408387809621442006-10-21T01:20:00.000-04:002006-10-21T01:26:27.810-04:00Thursday evening, so incredibly strung out from academic work, a general lack of sleep, and an over-reliance on caffiene, I began shivering and convulsing almost uncontrollably for several minutes, before somehow setting an alarm clock and pulling myself into bed, only to wake up several hours later to complete the stack of homework due for my Friday morning class. Imagine this process repeated several times weekly, and you too will consider it something of a small miracle that I've two new reviews to sport below, one at <a href="http://www.strangersong.com/">Stranger Song</a> for the disappointing new film from Clint Eastwood, and one posted below for <em><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0023649/">Vampyr</a></em>, one of my absolute favorite early "horror" films. Here's to hoping that this weekend lets me catch up on my promised marathon entries (as well as Sophia Coppola's <em><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0422720/">Marie Antoinette</a></em>), but when my body begins to shut down and sleep even without my approval, there's only so much to be done.<br /><br />Stranger Song: <em><a href="http://strangersong.com/?p=92">Flags of Our Fathers</a></em><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116140838780962144?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1161408005147152062006-10-21T01:11:00.000-04:002006-10-23T11:00:54.503-04:00<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/vampyrdvd.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/vampyrdvd.jpg" border="0" /></a> Through a hallucinatory combination of desaturated images and muffled audio (as if implying that the viewer themselves is in the state of a trance), <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0023649/"><span style="font-style: italic;">Vampyr</span></a> exercises its muted horror not in the form of a traceable narrative but by means of the lingering vision of a haunted and often logic-defying dream. It’s cloudy visual aesthetic the result of an accidental stock exposure (which, when discovered in the dailies, impressed director Dreyer so much that he chose to repeat the process for the entire film), the film’s ever-gliding camera effortlessly creates an overwhelming sense of place, even while that place is ever-shifting and just out of grasp. Bodiless shadows, unseen spirits and other suggestions of the unreal cumulate in a nerve-racking sense of menace, the conflict manifesting less in physical violence than a dreadful unease. We never really see the vampire at the source of the film’s death and misfortune (at least not in expected fangs-and-cloak form), but the presence of the undead is unmistakably felt throughout.<br /><br />Given the emphasis placed on mood, it is unsurprising that the scenes committed to narrative exposition are among <i>Vampyr</i>’s least compelling, yet even these approach a level of tonal mastery. The loose, loose story concerns a wandering philosopher, David Gray (Julian West), who comes upon a country manor, his arrival immediately foreshadowing some sense of doom when an old man inexplicably enters into his room, leaving behind a note marked “Do not open until after my death.” Compelled to explore his bizarre surroundings, David bears witness to the bizarre murder of the old man and subsequent attack on one of his two daughters. The shadowlike spirits abound and mysterious folk suggest deeper threads of foul play, although David has less of an active role in the matters than he does simply act as an audience surrogate. The story here is beside the point; what we’re watching is not unlike some metaphysical duel between the spirits of good and evil in a pseudo-physical manifestation.<br /><br />If <i>Vampyr</i> is but a dream on film (which is to say it’s not nearly as complex as any of Lynch’s dream-within-a-dreams, although at times its just as seductive as his <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0166924/"><i>Mulholland Drive</i></a>), then Dreyer’s camera acts as the dreamer’s floating presence. Tranquil pans convey a sense of action beyond the limits of the frame, often happening upon dreadful deeds just committed. Characters themselves act as if in something of a trance, hardly sedated but nonetheless acting as if controlled by forces other than their own. This languished tone conveys the spiritual chaos at the core of the film, but its use of inexplicable and eerie imagery – from a funeral procession seen from inside the coffin to a person buried beneath a pile of purifying flour – is equally foreboding. Dreyer – fresh off his masterpiece <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0019254/"><i>The Passion of Joan of Arc</i></a> – again uses his composition to its fullest potential, the characters and their surroundings positioned in manners most suggestive of ill will lurking about. That some consider it one of the finest horror films ever made is both a blessing and a curse - <i>Vampyr</i> is a masterwork, but more than simply being frightening, it penetrates deep into the psyche to carry out its menacing, ethereal lurk.<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 /><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/Vampyrcoffin.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p>Feature: <a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/horror-marathon-2006.html">Horror Marathon 2006</a></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116140800514715206?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1161149401997876642006-10-18T01:13:00.000-04:002006-10-18T01:30:02.016-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/poster1.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/poster1.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>That the underrated and underseen <a href="http://imdb.com/title/tt0100814/"><i>Tremors</i></a> is both the (arguably) ultimate homage to 50’s B-movies <i>and</i> one of the formative films of my childhood can be considered something of a happy accident. Enraptured by cinema's impossible and fantastical in my youth, it wasn’t long until I came across this early 90’s flick, which found a prominent life on video and television after passing quickly out of theaters. Already familiar with the slew of monster/giant insect movies <i>Tremors</i> draws heavily upon (take your pick: <a href="http://imdb.com/title/tt0050294/"><i>The Deadly Mantis</i></a>, <a href="http://imdb.com/title/tt0052969/"><i>The Killer Shrews</i></a>, etc.), it wasn’t hard to appreciate the film’s pitch-perfect encapsulation of the genre’s many clichés and absurdities. Treading this kind of ground is a risky affair, even with the best of intentions in mind, but <i>Tremors</i> stands out in part to its intelligence and sheer sense of fun: the script is sound as is (once you accept the fact that the plot centers around man-eating worms, that is), so the loving indulgences into genre familiarities are but icing on the cake.<br /><br />The creatures of <i>Tremors</i> are something of a forgotten monster masterpiece, deserving of equal ranking with the <a href="http://imdb.com/title/tt0078748/"><i>Alien</i></a> series’ titular extra-terrestrials, with which their inception shared some of the same creative minds (for the record, the Lenny Kravitz-imitating <a href="http://imdb.com/title/tt0093773/"><span style="font-style: italic;">Predator</span></a>s have always struck me as a bit lame compared to how much hype they receive). Twenty-plus feet long, they are an ancient example of Darwinian perfection; completely subterranean, they burrow underground, sensing the vibrations of moving creatures above, their jaws encasing three snake-like tongues that aid in catching their prey. How they surviving so long, and undetected, is never explained, and nor does it matter for the moment to our protagonists. In the isolated desert town of Perfection, the miniscule population is terrorized by the sudden emergence of these creatures, which quickly cut off both transportation and communications as their snacking slowly diminishes the humans’ numbers in a series of increasingly inventive and entertaining set pieces.<br /><br /><i>Tremors</i> is a complete exercise in genre formulation, a tight rope to walk, with triumphant audience satisfaction on one side and droll, lifeless tedium on the other. With the pacing and tone both down tight, what really makes the film click is the immensely likable, immediate performances from a very capable cast. Granted, everyone here is forced to play but a caricature already clichéd to the archetypal monster movie (the Chinese man, the single mother and daughter, the douche bag teenager, etc.), but they don’t simply put forth stereotypical qualities: they embody them as if nothing else would be remotely natural (that the film’s aspirations are hardly Altman-esque certainly helps). Nearly twenty years later, the film’s charm and thrill has only accumulated, its creature effects still as believable as they come (especially in an era of artificial, overused CG) and its indebted cinematic references (among them <a href="http://imdb.com/title/tt0073195/"><i>Jaws</i></a>-like point-of-view tracking shots, and a scene remarkably similar to Quint’s demise) even more savory. It says something that three sequels and a television series followed, even despite an initially poor box office performance; the steadily declining quality of said successors is an unfortunate blemish on <i>Tremors</i>’ wonderfully tongue-in-cheek indulgences.<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" /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap301.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap301.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><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/22620924-116114940199787664?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1161097387103734002006-10-17T10:58:00.000-04:002006-10-17T11:03:07.156-04:00I was thinking it at the time, but then it slipped my mind until a recent perusal on YouTube brought it up again (you could say that the embittered rage that accompanied <span style="font-style: italic;">Crash</span>'s win kind of overshadowed everything else, not to mention the fact that less than 12 hours later I was heavily sedated so I could go into surgery). But, case in point, once Meryl Streep and Lily Tomlin gave this wonderfully scripted (or was it?) opening dialogue to Robert Altman's Lifetime Achievement award at the 2006 Oscars, they should have simply thrown out all of that's years Best Actresses nominees and nominated them in their stead (not to mentioned Rachel McAdams, Jennifer Connelly, and Q'Orianka Kilcher).<br /><br /><center><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/RJWmiZIdTWM"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RJWmiZIdTWM" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object></center><br /><br />And yes, <span style="font-style: italic;">Nashville </span>bears repeating. Endless repeating.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116109738710373400?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1161094374466139202006-10-17T10:07:00.000-04:002006-10-17T10:12:54.480-04:00Below you'll see two new contributions to the "Horror Marathon 2006," Tod Browning's incredible <span style="font-style: italic;">Freaks </span>and the rather tepid <span style="font-style: italic;">The Mummy</span>. Also, you may have noticed that the star ratings have changed from five to four: it finally came around to me that the traditional four-star system is my preferred, and it also provides some more consistency with my reviews at <a href="http://www.slantmagazine.com/index.asp">Slant Magazine</a>. Speaking of which, there is one more freshly posted, a pretty good little movie opening in New York that I fear will go completely under the radar. It's not without its hiccups, but it deserves to be seen.<br /><br />Otherwise, I'm currently fighting off the demons of reading assignments and massive writing demands until the end of the week. I hope to cram in a good deal more horror films (I <span style="font-style: italic;">will </span>reach at least 31 by the end of the month...huzzah!), as well as several new releases this weekend. A review for <span style="font-style: italic;">Flags of our Fathers </span>should be posted on <a href="http://www.strangersong.com/">The Stranger Song</a> by Friday morning, and this weekend I will catch <span style="font-style: italic;">Marie Antoinette </span>(my second most anticipated film of the year) and <span style="font-style: italic;">The Prestige</span>. Until then, caffiene, please keep me going.<br /><br />Slant Magazine: <a href="http://www.slantmagazine.com/film/film_review.asp?ID=2600">Sweet Land</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116109437446613920?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1160970985865603702006-10-15T23:51:00.000-04:002006-10-16T21:55:28.060-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/200px-The_Mummy_%281932%29_poster.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/200px-The_Mummy_%281932%29_poster.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>The one-two punch of 1931’s <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0021814/"><i>Dracula</i></a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0021884/"><i>Frankenstein</i></a> jumpstarted Universal’s long-running “monsters” series, and if the need to get a fresh product into theaters as quickly as possible was the prevalent feeling (so as to keep the box office dollars rolling), then 1932’s <i>The Mummy</i> is proof of what comes from studio executives with hungry dollar signs in their eyes. I might fault <i>Dracula</i> for being drably composed and sequences, but it has far more soul than the assembly-line aesthetic of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0023245/"><i>The Mummy</i></a>. Only three films into their sound foray in the genre, Universal had already laid down a formula to sap their works of their potential life force. Ironic, then, that the only real note of interest in this otherwise droll affair is the undead titular character, played by the inimitable Boris Karloff with an eerily sedative glow, which unfortunately fails to transfer to the film as a whole.<br /><br />I suspected a droll rehash of <i>Dracula</i>’s plot structure even before the close of <i>The Mummy</i>’s opening credits (never a good sign, source of rehashing notwithstanding), tipped off by the uninspired re-use of the former film’s title scoring. The minimal plot is, in terms of pure exposition, hardly feature-length, so it is not in the best interest of the work that the story begins immediately without any attempt to build mood, tone, or a sense of location. Excavated in 1921 Egypt, the mummified prince Im-Ho-Tep returns to life when a naïve archaeologist utters a life-endowing spell, only to die a lunatic, the only witness to the reanimated corpses’ escape. Ten years later, Im-Ho-Tep (under the alias Ardeth Bey) returns to find the spirit of his long-lost love, now embodied in a woman named Helen (Zita Johann).<br /><br />While <i>The Mummy</i> is more interestingly shot than <i>Dracula</i> (particularly in it’s use of facial close-ups, such as the downright frightening awakening of Im-Ho-Tep, his glistening eyes jumping out from the dusty, dead flesh and bandages around them), the majority of its elements take on the effect of what one would expect from overworked assembly line employees: a product that satiates the bare minimum of technical demands but exhibits no unique aesthetic spirit. From its barely registered love subplot to the already archetypal side characters (who handily know the relevant history and technical information about the ghoul or goblin in question), <i>The Mummy</i> foreshadows the lazy cookie-cutter sequels that would plague successful horror films in decades to come.<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/none.gif" align="left" /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/none.gif" align="left" /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/Mummy_Movie_Monster_06.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/Mummy_Movie_Monster_06.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><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/22620924-116097098586560370?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1160967003194848912006-10-15T22:43:00.000-04:002006-10-16T22:39:57.220-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/8729652.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/8729652.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>That <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0022913/"><i>Freaks</i></a> is generally considered a member of the “horror” genre is telling in ways that both reinforce the film’s central themes – thus validating them even further – as well as obscure them from being fully understood and appreciated. How this scale tips may very well depend on the viewer in question; truly, those who take it as being horrifying based on its surface alone are likely the very members of society the film rightfully criticizes. Commissioned by MGM to create a film even more horrifying than Universal’s immensely successful <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0021884/"><i>Frankenstein</i></a> (as well as his own <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0021814/"><i>Dracula</i></a>), Tod Browning crafted a film about and starring the physically impaired and handicapped – many of them real sideshow freaks whose careers up until the film had been spent traveling with the circus only for their physical nature to be gawked and laughed at. The film would bring them little fame in their lifetime; deemed too shocking, horrifying, and obscene, it vanished almost instantly from circulation. While Browning’s career would never recover, what remains is one of the most humane and sympathetic films ever made, a fact that makes it’s own persecution throughout the decades that much more ironic.<br /><br />A lean 64 minutes, <i>Freaks</i> is a testament to cinematic efficiency (although some of the original cut is now lost, it doesn’t detract in any noticeable way), but more crucial is its un-exploitative observation of its titular characters. The setting: the tightly-knit community of a circus’ sideshow, where life goes on as normal despite seemingly devastating handicaps and diseases (such as absent limbs, stunted growth, multiple genders, and one boy missing everything below the stomach). Observed going about their daily activities – eating, drinking, playing, loving, and, in one amazing scene, lighting a cigarette – their physical limitations couldn’t seem more natural, and indeed fade into the background so as to let their unaltered humanity shine through without impairment. Yet the beautiful trapeze artist Olga Baclanova (perhaps an unintended surrogate for 1932 audiences?), herself without any bodily deformations, can only see the sideshow members as amusing oddities, and certainly less than human. Her cruel toying with the smitten midget Hans (Harry Earles) takes on new levels of heinousness when she learns of the fortune he’s inherited; she quickly marries him, only to slip poison into his champagne during the post-ceremony dinner.<br /><br />Her actions earn swift retribution upon their discovery; the “freaks” operate as a single unit, with an offense to one being treated as universal (the film being told in flash-back, framed by a sideshow exhibit featuring a post-mutilation Olga). In what is arguably the film’s most terrifying sequence (set during a relentless rainstorm), Olga’s cohort (and lover) Hercules (Henry Victor), mortally stabbed, attempts to escape the steadily encroaching, bloodthirsty sideshow actors amidst the muddy ground beneath the circus wagons. Here, all are on equal footing, the deformed lot capable of just the same hateful and malicious acts as their fully functional counterparts – just as they share the same capacities for love and happiness. More famous is the film’s “one of us” montage, where, during the wedding ceremony, the sideshow troupe indicts Olga into their ranks via a repeated chant; horrified of being considered their equal, and too intoxicated on spirits to conceal her true feelings (Mel Gibson anyone?), she hatefully lashes out at them and their physical differences. Thus, the true horror of the film comes not from the physical appearances of its characters, but its antagonists’ incapacity to accept that which is different, and the unwaveringly universal capability of all men to act out of ill will and with violence.<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 /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/4.7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><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/22620924-116096700319484891?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1160795152711955452006-10-13T23:02:00.000-04:002006-10-13T23:05:52.726-04:00In case anyone's been wondering what the fate of the Horror Marathon will be, worry not. Academia has been on my ass something crazy this past week, and extra time for viewing and reviewing has been in great limitation (for example: in the past three nights, I've only gotten twelve hours of sleep). Once I've recharged a bit, I'll be able to pick up the pieces. Until then, here are two newly published reviews over at Slant - an okay documentary in limited release in New York, and an atrocious new action movie that can't leave theaters fast enough.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.slantmagazine.com/film/film_review.asp?ID=2586">Out of Place: Memories of Edward Said</a><br /><a href="http://www.slantmagazine.com/film/film_review.asp?ID=2593">The Marine</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116079515271195545?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1160450789966788522006-10-09T23:13:00.000-04:002006-10-16T21:55:54.253-04:00<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/little_children.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/little_children.jpg" border="0" /></a>Emotionally and mentally displaced by her surroundings, Kate Winslet’s Sarah Pierce imagines herself as an anthropologist on something of a field study, the subjects in question being the caricature-driven housewives whom she is forced to spend time with while taking her daughter to the local playground. She being anything but a typical suburban woman, this attitude allows her to maintain her composure around these exaggerated philistines. So too does <i><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0404203/">Little Children</a></i> feel like a scientists’ sterile examination of our collective suburban experience, and it’s certainly not at a lack for potentially challenging or probing material. Unfortunately, the many characters, relationships and by-chance encounters – while not milked so gratuitously for “meaning” as a certain Paul Haggis film – are presented not like real human beings but like the isolated subjects of an experiment, callously manipulated by a filmmaker with an obvious agenda, which is unceremoniously spoon-fed to the audience with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.<br /><br />The story concerns two emotionally estranged stay-at-home parents who find solace in each other’s company. Winslet’s Sarah and Patrick Wilson’s Brad Adamson, whose meet-cute encounter at first leads only to friendly co-parenting at the local pool amidst the summer heat, eventually escalate their relationship into a regular meet-and-fuck. A backdrop to these behind-closed-doors dysfunctions is a convicted pedophile, just released from his two-year sentence for indecent exposure to a volatile and fearful community. An external narrator regularly elucidates these characters’ thoughts and feelings, seemingly because Fields deemed it fit that a film about emotional infants need be presented as if it were a children’s book. It is this approach (paired with the geometrical, lifeless mise-en-scène) that drains the material of any real life force, its aesthetic not only unaccommodating for real human feelings (the characters being but stereotypes the movie limply pokes at), but ultimately so serious and polished as to prove downright laughable. One is reminded of an early sequence mocking the uptight, regimented planning and scheduling of said aforementioned suburban woman, an attribute Fields mistakenly imitates in his attempts at deconstruction. <i>Little Children</i>’s hypocrisy is evident in that it replicates that which it otherwise attempts to expose.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/star1.gif" align="left" /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/half-1.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" /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116045078996678852?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1160250679325582522006-10-07T14:53:00.000-04:002006-10-16T21:12:30.686-04:00<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/departed.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/departed.0.jpg" border="0" /></a> Props to Martin Scorsese for his continued ability to reinvent himself, reinforcing the notion that the more things change, the more they stay the same. While the feel of his films has been ever shifting (throughout his entire career, but seemingly more so these past few years), his matters of interest - the criminal underworld, identity stricken characters, and the long shadow of religion - have rarely altered. While old school fans of Scorsese (for many of whom his entire catalogue consists of nothing but <em><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0075314/">Taxi Driver</a></em>, <em><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0081398/">Raging Bull</a></em>, <em><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0099685/">GoodFellas</a></em>, <em><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0112641/">Casino</a> </em>and - if you're lucky - <em><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0070379/">Mean Streets</a></em>) have been tireless in their juvenile dissent towards his casting of Leonardo DiCaprio, they've also been blind to the fact that he's entered a new stage in his career with great vigor, while other directors would begin to show their wear and tear. Expecting his familiar 70's brutality or 90's flair, they've gone and missed his new stylistic branches: <em><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0217505/">Gangs of New York</a> </em>was a full-bodied opera on a near biblical level, and <em><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0338751/">The Aviator</a></em> - while more narratively conservative - was still a near-masterful reinvention of old Hollywood convetions, and a bold character study. <em></em><br /><em></em><br /><em><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0407887/">The Departed</a> </em>once again proves that Scorsese is, above all else, damn cool. Itself a remake of <em>Internal Affairs</em> - a Hong Kong feature itself greatly indebted to Scorsese - the film is like a twice-removed reinterpretation of his long-running contributions, only delivered with just as much potency as its multi-filtered influences. The story isn't as complicated as one might think at first glance, but the whole film is pitched at such a manic level that it takes a bit to soak it all up. Gangster Frank Costello (Jack Nicholson) rules the streets of Boston, where two Irish boys grow up to become members of the local police force. Colin Sullivan (Matt Damon) has an easier time, helped in no small way by his connections with Frank for the mutual benefit of cop and criminal. Billy Costigan (Leonardo DiCaprio), his image tarnished by a bad family history, is forced to take an undercover job, slowly building credibility and infiltrating Costello's inner circle.<br /><br />Despite there being no shortage of ballsy <em>kick </em>to the entire production (the combination of sight and sound, not to mention the bitingly subversive humor, is so frantic it takes some time to properly adjust oneself to it), everything in the film is also given plenty of room to breath, with both the filmmaker and his very capable actors holding equal ground. Performances are good, from DiCaprio and Damon's inner simmering, Nicholson's gleeful gnashing and Mark Wahlberg's nothing-short-of-douchebag expletive dropping, all of which are impressionable but know when to stop lest they overtake all around them. Yet what remains notable is that, while Scorsese tends to find a deep intimacy with his subjects through his use of the medium, <em>The Departed </em>- perhaps by necessity - remains slightly detached, more an observer than a direct part of the action, perhaps an extension of these characters' own grappling with their identity, or lack thereof, in the world. The lying, backstabbing, vengeance and all that comes of it here is the stuff of a postmodern, Shakespearean American tragedy, and Scorsese knows how to deliver the goods.<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/22620924-116025067932558252?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1160246113126607452006-10-07T14:32:00.000-04:002006-10-07T16:11:08.293-04:00There will, unfortunately, be a temporary delay on the Horror Marathon, and on all posting in general (I'm only able to offer you this now via an internet cafe in Elmwood Park, New Jersey - my first time ever using one). A trip to the city this weekend for a Tool concert on Long Island has not provided the stable internet access I was hoping for, so the next few entries to the Horror Marathon will have to wait until I get home (Monday, Tuesday at the latest). In other upcoming news: Martin Scorsese's excellent <em>The Departed</em>, and hopefully I'll be able to catch a screening of <em>The Science of Sleep </em>before I return to the Lehigh Valley. My ticket has two hours left on it, so there may be another addition today. No guarantees.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-116024611312660745?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1160119919513420872006-10-06T03:26:00.000-04:002006-10-15T23:00:35.730-04:00Despite the historical significance to the medium of his early work, one must be grateful that Thomas Alva Edison is better known for his work on the light bulb rather than that on the movie camera. Once thought to be “lost,” as many silent films now are, his 1910 short of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0001223/"><i>Frankenstein</i></a> is indeed a fascinating bit of early cinema, but that doesn’t change the fact that it isn’t very good. The surviving copy (available for viewing below) is just over thirteen minutes in length, consisting of a handful of single take scenes that lay out the bare bones progression of a significantly condensed adaptation of Mary Shelley’s literary masterwork. There are no dialogue cards, and were it not for the inter-titles dictating the specifics of what happens in each scene, it would be difficult for anyone unfamiliar with the story to decipher the proceedings. Much of the film is hampered by largely nonexistent artistry, more of an observation than a criticism; unlike Dr. Frankenstein’s monster, the film is certainly a successful experiment. Of greatest interest here, though, is the short’s centerpiece, an extended scene where Dr. Frankenstein (portrayed as something of an alchemist in this version) “creates” the monster (played by silent actor Charles Ogle, visible in makeup <a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/caps/horror_titles/charles_ogle_in_frankenstein_1910.jpg">here</a>). Like <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0000417/"><i>A Trip to the Moon</i></a>’s immortal shot of the man in the moon, this sequence features one of the great early special effects (simple by today’s standards, but downright brilliant at the time) when the monster is “born” out of a vat of chemicals. In reality, a human-like figure was created out of synthetic material, burned, and the footage played in reverse, creating an eerie image of a bone and flesh accruing even as flames mysteriously engulf them. We might be able to create more wondrous images with today’s computers, but this miniature time capsule, narratively deficient it may be, still tops the majority of them for pure creativity.<br /><br /><center><embed style="width: 400px; height: 326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=-93618221704457473&amp;hl=en"> </center><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/22620924-116011991951342087?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1160118744564985042006-10-06T02:52:00.000-04:002006-10-16T21:08:22.413-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/frankenstein.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/frankenstein.jpg" border="0" /></a>1931 was a banner year for American horror films, the genre jumpstarted by the near-simultaneous release of Universal’s <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0021814/"><i>Dracula</i></a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0021884/"><i>Frankenstein</i></a>, the popularity of which would spawn dozens of sequels, imitators, and rip-offs in years to come (the pattern only to be replicated with the emergence of Michael Myers, Freddy Krueger, and Jason Voorhees nearly a half-century later). Both are regularly considered classics, but while <i>Dracula</i> was seemingly filmed so as to recreate its stage play source material rather than adapting it to the screen (resulting in meandering, lethargic production, Lugosi’s presence notwithstanding), <i>Frankenstein</i> is truly tour-de-force cinema, tremendously flexing the newfound opportunities available to the medium (such as basic editing, camera tracking, use of close up and long shots, etc.), so commonplace now that they are unfortunately taken for granted. To watch <i>Frankenstein</i> is to relive a time when the sound picture was still young, but it is a grand work regardless of its innovative technical mastery.<br /><br /><i>Frankenstein</i> opens with a warning to the audience, advising them that the faint of heart may want to consider leaving before the shocking and horrifying story gets underway (an ironic precaution, considering that even PG-13 films of the genre today regularly feature dismemberment and gore in levels inconceivable at the time). While its ability to cause audience members to faint in their seats has certainly diminished, in contrast to the upped gore quotient now commonplace (not to mention Mel Gibson’s recent religious contribution to the cinematic world), <i>Frankenstein</i>’s psychological inquiries remain both striking and potent, its morality-lined narrative brimming with existential hurdles on both ends of the scale. Dr. Frankenstein (Colin Clive), driven by his pursuit of greater truth, bestows life upon a body created from dead corpses; the result is quickly dubbed a “monster” and rejected by all around it, the unmerited hardships it so quickly encounters earning scornful retribution. The formers God complex certainly raises questions as to how far man should go in the name of science, but the film makes no suggestion that a higher being exists to judge the unfolding events. Man and his creation must instead judge themselves compared to each other, their ability or inability to coexist the ultimate test they must wage with each other.<br /><br />Culture often lends itself to misinterpretations, one of the more egregious examples in both literature and cinema being the association of the title <i>Frankenstein</i> not to the scientist from whom the name is drawn, but instead to the monster he creates. While this wrongful association most likely arose out of sheer laziness, the confusion also reflects the fact that the creator and his creation are, in many ways, two sides of the same coin (exhibited no better than the intimidating cutting between the two while trapped in the windmill). Dr. Frankenstein strives to validate his existence through conquering the impossible, while his creation, the result of said impossibility, is unable to find fulfillment for even the most basic of human needs. No scene in the film is more tragic than the monster’s first (and only) pleasant human encounter. Having escaped from captivity into the countryside, he comes upon a young girl playing by a river. Here, Karloff’s childlike nuances are most soulful, having finally found a companion who sees him as a fellow, rather than sometime to be scorned. The two briefly enjoy tossing buoyant flowers into the water, his sewn-together hands awkwardly grasping their tiny petals, but his eyes in complete wonder as to their beauty. The fun is cut short, however, when the monster mistakenly assumes that the young girl shares the same ability to float; immediately after tossing her off of the bank, he realizes his mistake, and stumbles fearfully away from the scene of the crime.<br /><br />Karloff is deservingly remembered for his moving portrayal of the childlike monster, but it would appear that the wrongful association of him to the film’s title has also slighted the work of Colin Clive as the monster’s creator. Brimming with flawed ambition and strung out beyond delusion, his performance may very well be the ultimate portrayal of the mad scientist, every line of dialogue delivered as if his very sanity hangs in the balance. After the infamous storm sequence in which life is bestowed on the lifeless body – a miniature masterpiece of crackling scientific instruments, thundering sound effects and fearful onlookers – his half-manic screams of “It’s alive!” are enough to send trembles throughout all five senses. Nearly the entire film is pitched at such a level, marred only by the occasionally overdrawn expository sequence, as well as a closing scene that doesn’t provide half as much closure as it should (a forgivable trait, for it left the door open for what would become one of the greatest sequels ever made). Small quibbles, really. Now if only people would get the damn name right.<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" /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap300.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/cap300.jpg" border="0" /></a><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/22620924-116011874456498504?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1160014882967119042006-10-04T21:51:00.000-04:002006-10-16T20:35:02.010-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/full_dracula_1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/full_dracula_1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Consider <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0110912/"><span style="font-style: italic;">Pulp Fiction</span></a>’s comatose Uma Thurman without the aid of John Travolta’s breastplate-piercing adrenaline shot, and you have a pretty good idea of how Tod Browning’s <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0021814/"><i>Dracula</i></a> functions – or fails to do so. Maybe it’s just me, but while this typically canonized film isn’t outright terrible, save for cultural impact, it’s hard to not wonder what all the fuss is about. Admittedly, it would appear that all the elements are in place to create the eerie, stylistically restrained work it is so regularly touted as; grand sets, unembellished camerawork, and intentionally stylized performances. In separate contexts, those descriptors could be used for either great praise or great derision (such skimpy investigation being a common weakness in film criticism), so there must be more at work here keeping the parts from assimilating properly into the whole.<br /><br />It’s appropriate, then, that majority of the film’s problems are relative, but there’s also an aching lack of subtext that further reveals the limitations apparent on the surface. That may be because this <i>Dracula</i> is only partially adapted from Bram Stoker’s novel, instead taken from the stage play written by Hamilton Deane and John L. Balderston – if this film is any indication, a tiresome, creaky affair that substitutes the rich lore of the vampire with droll human melodrama. In many ways, the various technical limitations can be easily read as a reflection of the Great Depression, the overall production stunted due to Universal’s lack of funding. Nonetheless, while some may appreciate the nuances of <i>Dracula</i> as an addition to its worth, I am unable to see them as anything but a hindrance to its potential, even as a period piece. The overall quality of even the cinematic basics – from framing to composition to editing – is so scattershot as to suggest that the few instances where everything comes together as an effective whole is but a happy accident.<br /><br />The best of the Universal horror films (and generally all monster-based films of the sort) probed into the humanity of their subjects. <i>Dracula</i> deals with these notions only in broad motions that seem more obligatory to the script (insert memorable line of dialogue here!) than they do attempts to add some real meat to the proceedings. Whereas Max Schreck’s Count Orlock was not unlike a plague-carrying rat himself, his slow walk and wide eyes communicating a humanity eroded down to the bone, Bela Lugosi’s Dracula largely fails to register. (I’m bound to get hate mail for this, but hear me out). Granted, his nearly defining role is both memorable and entrancing (one only needs to look to how much the performance has permeated throughout culture), captivating with an understated, carnal sexuality and supreme macho posturing. Ultimately, though, the sad truth is that Lugosi so far outranks those around him, in front of <i>and</i> behind the camera, that his own potency is diminished as a result.<br /><br />An interesting note of comparison exists in the form of the <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0021815/">Spanish version</a> of the film produced at the same time; using the same sets and script (the Spanish crew shooting at night while the Americans shot during the day), the overall result being much superior, if not as a psychological probe into the existential crisis of the vampire, then at least as an entertaining monster flick. In many ways, despite the line deliveries that should have been overdubbed and the scenes that deserved a second take, the lacking energy is simply the result of poor (or even nonexistent) direction (strange for Browning, whose <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0022913/"><i>Freaks</i></a> is among the finest films of the decade; no surprise, then, that rumors suggest he didn’t actually direct a good bulk of the finished product). Nothing would thrill me more than for a film archivist to uncover an original cut of this film, revealing the current version to be but an alternate cut pieced together from sub-par footage.<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/none.gif" align="left" /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/none.gif" align="left" /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/bedvamp.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/bedvamp.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><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/22620924-116001488296711904?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1159934446438509912006-10-03T23:54:00.000-04:002006-10-16T20:44:53.510-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/Phantomopera.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/Phantomopera.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Indulge me for a moment of cinematic recollection (heads up: if you’re reading this blog, then you already are). My very first viewing of any silent film – indeed, probably the first time that I even became aware of such a thing – was in my second grade music class, when we watched the original <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0016220/"><i>The Phantom of the Opera</i></a> as a means of appreciating and understanding the role music played in enhancing movies. At the time, I was struck and absorbed by this incredible new form of storytelling, and became moderately obsessed with the film; fortunately for me, the Sci-Fi channel aired it not long after, the tape recording of which still resides in my extensive VHS library (as wondrous as the DVD is, I have far too much invested in the old medium to entirely give it up). Quite ironically, an occasion arose not much later in which I able to see the film again, only to disappointedly discover that the copy in question was actually the 1943 remake. How many ten-year-olds look upon a sound and color picture and find its aesthetic ordinary and dull?<br /><br />Unfortunately, revisiting <i>Phantom</i> – as both a cinematic hallmark and an object of nostalgic significance – finds the film’s reputation to far outrank its artistic quality (nevertheless, I pray it retains the oft-used “definitive” title in the midst of the rancid <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0293508/">2004 Andrew Lloyd Webbed adaptation</a>). Less a horror film than it is a more traditional melodrama, the film is annoyingly over-reliant on title cards (perhaps as a compensation for the generally lousy acting, or just poor direction in general) and underwhelming in its loose yet overcooked drama. Visually stagnant, the majority of the narrative weight is rested upon the underdeveloped love triangle at the center of the plotting. Christine (Mary Philbin) is an up-and-coming opera singer in France, her career aided by the mysterious Phantom (his identity unbeknownst to her) of the opera house, a legendary figure who resides in the basement levels, long corridors and old torture chambers long forgotten. Her lover and fiancée, Raoul (Norman Kerry), must be out of the picture in order for the Phantom to execute his long awaited plans.<br /><br />The general story of the film, white admittedly a familiar one in its generalities, suffers from an overwhelming feeling of rote emptiness; Christine and Raoul’s characters are reduced to such meandering talking heads that – even with great intent on doing so – emotional investment proves near impossible. That <i>Phantom</i>, one of the first of Universal Studio’s long-running horror genre (preceded only by the 1923 version of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0014142/"><i>The Hunchback of Notre Dame</i></a>), largely forged the blueprint for many of the films to follow it is a telling trait, for <i>Phantom</i> largely deals in formulas itself, the silent equivalent of a movie made not by an artist with a vision but a committee with dollar signs in their eyes. The haphazard production suggests enough: first filmed in 1924, <i>Phantom</i> was screened to poor results; re-shoots and multiple edits followed suit. Two official major prints now exist, the 1925 release and a 1929 re-release partially edited from alternate takes (the former being in question here). Plot holes abound (since none of the film is considered to be “lost,” this can be chalked up to poor craftsmanship rather than shoddy film preservation) and inexplicable tonal shifts further create a sense of divide (particularly the handful of silly and ineffective attempts at comic relief). While the film was a success upon its original release, that doesn’t change the fact that much of it feels like random piecemeal, which is to say that while many chunks of the film are indeed effective (and several downright terrifying), the overall effect is unsatisfactory and bipolar.<br /><br />Amidst all the rough terrain, however, one unwaveringly fantastic element – that of Lon Chaney’s magnificent performance as the titular figure – rises to the surface. Even beneath the layers of self-applied, hideous makeup (which amount to one of the most memorable personas in film history), Chaney’s expressive presence and soulful body language help to fill in the twisted humanity of a character sorely undervalued by the film in which it exists. The Phantom, like everyone else, is but a chess piece moved about the shoddy narrative architecture, but even amidst bewildering moments of motivational inconsistency in the writing, Chaney instills a tremendous presence of soulful aching. The Phantom is an unrivaled maniac, professing of love and good intentions but ultimately an impossible mixture of greed, fear and piteous affection when things don’t turn out his way, the tormented product of a horrific life we desperately wish we could learn more of. Chaney’s Phantom stands out as a greater work within a lesser one, his gnarled form and sunken facial features commanded all attention whenever on screen (along with the shots of the opera’s underground labyrinths and a colorized sequence, they are among the only visually invigorating scenes in the film), leaving a chilling effect with each horrific expression. While the Phantom’s unmasking might be the most famous sequence in this lesser classic, none is more worthwhile for my money’s worth than the Phantom’s slow descent into a black, underground river, oxygen-providing reed in hand, ready to dispose of an unwanted visitor. Were the entire film so easily terrifying, then <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0185937/"><i>The Blair Witch Project</i></a> would be given a deserved run for its money.<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/none.gif" align="left" /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/none.gif" align="left" /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/chaney.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/chaney.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><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/22620924-115993444643850991?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1159844230760798792006-10-02T21:32:00.000-04:002006-10-16T21:18:07.403-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/Nosferatuposter.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/Nosferatuposter.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>The vampire feature found its first incarnation with F.W. Murnau’s <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0013442/"><i>Nosferatu</i></a>, an unofficial adaptation of Bram Stoker’s novel <u>Dracula</u>. That title, however, almost saw the entire film destroyed. Stoker’s widow, to whom royalties on his works went, easily saw through the film’s changing of names whilst adapting virtually the same plot, and sued for compensation, the court’s ruling being that every copy of <i>Nosferatu</i> had to be destroyed. Thankfully, evasion of the law proved an artistic triumph and a means of preserving a landmark work. <i>Nosferatu</i>, paired with <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0010323/"><i>The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari</i></a>, is one of the hallmark foundations of the German expressionist movement (albeit here of a more eerily natural kind than the obtuse set designs of Weine’s predecessor). It is often regarded as the greatest vampire movie ever made (an assertion I do not support, although I don’t believe it’s far off), but regardless of its overall ranking, it is certainly one of the most subtly festering horror films ever made.<br /><br />Every image and composition of <i>Nosferatu</i> suggests a half-dead world, the rotting, decomposing corpse of which Murnau obsessively examines with his camera. All seems to have been stillborn, the efforts of the human characters among the only remaining rays of light amidst the darkness; selflessness is ultimately the saving grace of a world otherwise gone to hell. The story is familiar to most; a retail salesman, Thomas (Gustav von Wangenheim), travels to Transylvania to complete a transaction with the wealthy Count Orlock (Max Schreck – German for “maximum terror,” ironically – or, a la <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0189998/"><i>Shadow of the Vampire</i></a>, perhaps not), unperturbed by the warnings from the superstitious locals. Quickly, he learns that the vampire folklore is indeed a serious manner, but not before the Count is the official owner of a home in Thomas’ German hometown. An ill Thomas (sick with a fever induced by the predator Count) rushes home to protect his wife Ellen, but not before Orlock arrives first, bringing with him a deadly plague that begins to eradicate the population.<br /><br />Horror is almost a misnomer for <i>Nosferatu</i>. Frightening in an existential and spiritual way it surely is, but the effect of the film is not the visceral high generally expected of the genre but the trance-inducing tone more typical of a mood piece. A lingering gaze on natural imagery lends the film this quality, its horror encapsulated not so much in the strictly supernatural (as is evident via the happenings surrounding Count Orlock) as it is ingrained in the monolithic qualities of the natural world. Count Orlock, however, is anything but natural, his distorted features more closely resembling a nimble, upright walking, albino rat than anything that could be called remotely human. His plight is perhaps the saddest of all those in the film, the eternally isolated life of the vampire portrayed as a plague in itself, thus forging a theme that has continued to recur within the genre since this first appearance.<br /><br />At the center of the film is Schreck’s rightfully revered performance, one so understated and absorbed into the film that it is impossible to imagine the work as a whole without it. Orlock’s body language and physical features create a figure of interlocking contradictions, the former not unlike a gothic ballet interpretation and the latter deeply expressive through its exaggerated repulsiveness. Orlock’s physical presence is not unlike the shadowy representations employed throughout the film; perhaps no single image is more transfixing than the shadow of Count Orlock reaching for the door separating him from his innocent victim. At one point in the film, a scientist points out how a carnivorous hydra plant is so transparent that the physical being is almost nonexistent; so too does Orlock’s body occupy a realm that moves beyond the flesh only to penetrate into the world of the spirit. While the majority of its imitators would define vampirism solely through the physical role of stakes, garlic, blood, and holy water, <i>Nosferatu</i> taps into the psychosexual longings of its mythology with primal efficiency and a somber, platonic aftertaste.<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/half-1.gif" align="left" /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/nosferatu1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/nosferatu1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><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/22620924-115984423076079879?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1159753469922202452006-10-01T21:44:00.000-04:002006-10-16T21:37:51.020-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/630507549.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/630507549.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>My adoration for silent films was born during my pre-adolescent years, my fascination with monster movies quickly expanding as far back as the early silent classics. Thank goodness for the once-great AMC channel (which has since devolved into anything but), which regularly showcased silent films in the wee hours of weekday mornings; at that age, I could be up at four a.m. even without coffee, ready to soak up the silent feature of the day. Among my first experiences were the films of Buster Keaton (rarely have I laughed so hard as when I first watched <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0017925/"><i>The General</i></a>), <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0018806/">The Crowd</a> </span>(the first film I ever cried over), and the expressionistic classic <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0010323/"><i>The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari</i></a>. At the time, I doubt I could have given an adequate explanation of what all transpired in the film; I was too hypnotized to take notice. What mattered was the eerie, dreamlike nature of the images.<br /><br />The influence of Robert Wiene’s <i>Caligari</i> is so great that it threatens to obscure the work itself. Debatably the first true horror film (others come to mind, such as Thomas Edison’s 1910 <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0001223/"><i>Frankenstein</i></a> short), the film is, among other things, a foundation for German expressionism, as well as one of the first sources for many of the conventions and styles eventually adopted into film noir. Architectural structures are skewed in ways that defy convention and physics, characterized by sharp angles and distorted frames, all shrouded by the shadows of a barely evaded darkness. One needn’t look far in the culture to see its manifestations, from the works of Tim Burton (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0099487/"><i>Edward Scissorhands</i></a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0103776/"><i>Batman Returns</i></a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0107688/"><i>The Nightmare Before Christmas</i></a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0367594/"><i>Charlie and the Chocolate Factory</i></a> all come readily to mind) to more unexpected places (such as the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ByTKufbu6Co">music video</a> for their song “Otherside”). As other critics have noted, however, <i>Caligari</i> has unfortunately fallen from its once lofty heights as a cinematic classic. Chalk this up to trends in the community, for <i>Caligari</i> is as important and effective as ever.<br /><br />The story, as told by Francis (Friedrich Feher), goes as follows: a traveling carnival brings to his hometown the menacing Dr. Caligari (Werner Krauss), whose act involves the awakening of somnambulist Cesare (Conrad Veidt). Purportedly able to predict the future, Francis’ friend Alan (Hans Heinrich von Twardowski) asks Cesare as to how long he will live. The verdict: “You die at dawn.” This chilling revelation is quickly thrown aside as but part of the act, until the following morning, when the dark prophecy is fulfilled by a shadowy, unseen figure. Francis and the town folk quickly look to Caligari in their inquiries.<br /><br />The key to approaching <i>Caligari</i> is to understand that its distorted sets and spatial arrangements, aside from being the creations of an equally twisted mind (in what might be the first “plot twist” in the medium), are a means of the film wearing its gothic undertones prominently on its sleeves. This works both as a means of expressive style as well as a reflection of the main characters fractured psyche, as the various players are all visually representative of their inner nature. Dr. Caligari looks like some kind of toad, perpetually bent over his cane, his hobbled walk not unlike a disgruntled sand crab (a look greatly borrowed from for Danny DeVito’s brilliant portrayal of the Penguin in Burton’s aforementioned <i>Batman Returns</i>), while Cesare’s acrobatic and fluid motions are the stuff of a nightmarish ballet (his appearance bearing no small resemblance to Johnny Depp’s Edward Scissorhands).<br /><br />When the ultimate revelation comes in the film’s final minutes – Francis, who has thus far been telling the story via flashback, turns out to be one of many patients in an insane asylum – the many pieces of the quixotic puzzle quickly fall into their perfectly logical places. Unlike many later films that adopted an almost identical narrative structure in regards to showcasing a mental illness (I’m talking to you, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0268978/"><i>A Beautiful Mind</i></a>), <i>Caligari</i> is both enthralling and true to its structure (not to mention conscientious of its characters’ plights, positing the same symptoms on an unknowing audience rather than simply plugging them for highbrow entertainment factor). The factors influencing Francis’ mental delusions are both clear and logical, providing a tangible connection between a splintered reality and the surreal world in his mind. By taking the viewer through the maze of this mind before resurfacing in a familiar setting, the power of its bizarre elements becomes even more stimulating. <i>Caligari</i> is a time-capsule reminder of the emotive power of the moving image.<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 /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/Caligari2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/Caligari2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><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/22620924-115975346992220245?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1159805286727175892006-10-01T21:30:00.000-04:002006-10-31T00:57:53.863-05:00<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 1st</span><br /><br /><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0010323/">The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari</a> (1920)</span><br />Dir: Robert Weine<br />Source: <a href="http://www.archive.org/details/DasKabinettdesDoktorCaligariTheCabinetofDrCaligari">Internet Archive</a><br /><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/cabinet-of-dr-caligari-1920.html">Full review here</a>.<br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 2nd</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0430912/">Basic Instinct 2</a> </span>(2006)</span><br />Dir: Michael Caton-Jones<br />Source: Columbia Pictures DVD<br /><br />Some things never change. Peice. Of. Shit.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0077588/">The Fury</a> </span>(1978)</span><br />Dir: Brian DePalma<br />Source: Fox DVD<br /><br />I liked <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0074285/"><span style="font-style: italic;">Carrie</span></a>, but this surpasses it on almost every level. Insanely pitched and gloriously executed, the movie is like one long, mounting orgasm of angst and psychological frustration.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0013442/">Nosferatu</a> </span>(1922)</span><br />Dir: F.W. Murnau<br />Source: <a href="http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-1182177187777487786">Google Video</a><br /><br />This classic just gets better with each viewing (this being my sixth or seventh). The organ score on this version is particularly effective. <a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/nosferatu-1922.html">Full review here</a>.<br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 3rd<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0016220/">The Phantom of the Opera</a> </span>(1925)</span><br />Dir: Rupert Julian<br />Source: <a href="http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-5224364451553593147">Google Video</a><br /><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/phantom-of-opera-1925.html">Full review here</a>. Not a particularly good copy, but it'll get the job done if, say, you have a deadline and a missing DVD on your hands. Something tells me the soundtrack was lifted from another source; if not, then whoever made it for this film had some serious issues with pairing the music to the images on screen.<br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 4th<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0021814/">Dracula</a> </span>(1931)</span><br />Dir: Tod Browning<br />Source: Universal DVD (Legacy Set)<br /><br />I liked this one a lot more in my youth. <a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/dracula-1931.html">Full review here</a>.<br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 5th<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0021884/">Frankenstein</a> </span>(1931)</span><br />Dir: James Whale<br />Source: Universal DVD (Legacy Set)<br /><br />Nothing since quite matches the endowment of life on the monster. <a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/frankenstein-1931.html">Full review here</a>.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0001223/">Frankenstein</a> </span>(1910)</span><br />Dir: J. Searle Dawley<br />Source: Google Video<br /><br />Not very good, but certainly an interesting chapter in film history. <a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/frankenstein-1910.html">Full review here</a>.<span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 6th<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0407887/">The Departed</a> </span>(2006)</span><br />Dir: Martin Scorsese<br />Source: Theatrical Print<br /><br />Best since <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0099685/"><span style="font-style: italic;">GoodFellas</span></a>? Unless a second viewing takes my opinion from "really like" to "love," I doubt it. I certainly want to see the original <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0338564/">Internal Affairs</a> </span>now, though. <a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/departed-2006.html">Full review here</a>.<br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 8th<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0404203/">Little Children</a> </span>(2006)</span><br />Dir: Todd Field<br />Source: Theatrical Print<br /><br />And to think that I could have seen <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0460829/">Inland Empire</a> </span>instead of this <span style="font-style: italic;">thing</span>... *expletive deleted*<br /><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/little-children-2006.html">Full review here</a>.<br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 12th<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Out of Place: Memories of Edward Said </span>(2006)</span><br />Dir: Makoto Sato<br />Source: Screener VHS<br /><br />No IMDb page for this one, yet. Playing in limited release in New York City. <a href="http://www.slantmagazine.com/film/film_review.asp?ID=2586">Full review here</a>.<br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 12th<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0419946/">The Marine</a> </span>(2006)</span><br />Dir: John Bonito<br />Source: Theatrical Print<br /><br />Execrable crap; I preferred <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0419706/"><span style="font-style: italic;">Doom</span></a>. Seriously, movies like this are part of why people hate America. <a href="http://www.slantmagazine.com/film/film_review.asp?ID=2593">Full review here</a>.<br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0181852/">Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines</a> </span>(2006)</span><br />Dir: Jonathan Mostow<br />Source: Warner Bros. DVD<br /><br />I was moderately disappointed with this film when it first came out; the first two films being <span style="font-style: italic;">the </span>formulative films of my youth, my expectations were both high and firmly demanding of an epic continuation. Now, in hindsight and with more experience under my belt, I <span style="font-style: italic;">adore </span>it, not so much as a direct sequel, but as a loving continuation and a playfully tongue-in-cheek send-up of the mythology and conventions of the series. If this movie were a person and I met it at a party, I'd probably start humping it immediately.<br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 14th<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0022913/">Freaks</a> </span>(1932)</span><br />Dir: Tod Browning<br />Source: VHS<br /><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/freak-1932.html">Full review here</a>.<br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 15th<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0023245/">The Mummy</a> </span>(1932)</span><br />Dir: Karl Freund<br />Source: Universal DVD<br /><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/mummy-1932.html">Full review here</a>.<br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 16th<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0428038/">Sweet Land</a> </span>(2005)</span><br />Dir: Ali Selim<br />Source: Screener DVD<br /><br />The best movie I've yet seen in my reviewing for <a href="http://www.slantmagazine.com/index.asp">Slant</a>. Problematic at times, but terribly genuine. <a href="http://www.slantmagazine.com/film/film_review.asp?ID=2600">Full review here</a>.<br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 18th<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0100814/">Tremors</a> </span>(1990)</span><br />Dir: Ron Underwood<br />Source: Universal DVD<br /><br />Age either diminishes your youthfully treasured memories or elevates them to an even higher realm. This one falls in the latter category. <a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/tremors-1990.html">Full review here</a>.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0094761/">The Blob</a> </span>(1988)</span><br />Dir: Chuck Russell<br />Source: Columbia DVD<br /><br />I never realized how grizzly <span style="font-style: italic;">violent </span>this was as a kid. Certainly an unnecassary remake, but somehow it's balls-out 80's cynicism seems somewhat refreshing. Review coming soon.<br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 19th<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0418689/">Flags of Our Fathers</a> </span>(2005)</span><br />Dir: Clint Eastwood<br />Source: Theatrical Print<br /><br />This should be retitled <span style="font-style: italic;">Haggis Strangles Eastwood</span>. Ugh. <a href="http://strangersong.com/?p=92">Full review here</a>.<br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 20th<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0023649/">Vampyr</a> </span>(1932)</span><br />Dir: Carl Theodor Dreyer<br />Source: Image DVD<br /><br />Full review here.<br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 21st<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0422720/">Marie Antoinette</a> </span>(2005)</span><br />Dir: Sofia Coppola<br />Source: Theatrical Print<br /><br />How divinely sublime this film is. I didn't quite <span style="font-style: italic;">explode </span>with excitement as I did over <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0335266/"><span style="font-style: italic;">Lost in Translation</span></a>, but this one's cumulative effect was just as profound. Very strong candidate for best of the year, so far. <a href="http://strangersong.com/?p=95">Full review here</a>.<br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 22nd<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0070917/">The Wicker Man</a> </span>(1973)</span><br />Dir: Robin Hardy<br />Source: Anchor Bay DVD<br /><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/wicker-man-1973.html">Full review here</a>.<br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 23rd<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0026138/">Bride of Frankenstein</a> </span>(1935)</span><br />Dir: James Whale<br />Source: Universal Legacy DVD<br /><br />Possibly the best of Universal's monster series (pending my seeing <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0024894/"><span style="font-style: italic;">The Black Cat</span></a>). <a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/bride-of-frankenstein-1935.html">Full review here</a>.<br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 24th<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0051418/">The Blob</a> </span>(1958)</span><br />Dir: Irvin S. Yeaworth Jr.<br />Source: Criterion DVD<br /><br />I'd have never expected this film to age so well, either as a work of cinema or as a memory from my own childhood. Call it silly and campy - I think it's one of the most pitch-perfect, efficient examples of the sci-fi horror genre. And it's a heluva lot of fun. <a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/blob-1958.html">Full review here</a>.<br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 25th<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0023694/">White Zombie</a> </span>(1932)</span><br />Dir: Victor Halperin<br />Source: Google Video<br /><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/white-zombie-1932.html">Full review here</a>.<br /><br /><br /> <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0034398/">The Wolf Man</a> </span>(1941)</span><br /> Dir: George Waggner<br /> Source: Universal DVD<br /><br />Here's looking forward to Benicio Del Toro in the remake. <a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/wolf-man-1941.html">Full review here</a>.<br /><br /><br /> <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0063350/">Night of the Living Dead</a> </span>(1968)</span><br /> Dir: George A. Romero<br /> Source: DVD<br /><br />Few films - horror or otherwise - are as pure as this one. One of my all-time favorites. <a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/night-of-living-dead-1968.html">Full review here</a>.<br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 26th<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0088846/">Brazil</a> </span>(1985)</span><br />Dir: Terry Gilliam<br />Source: Criterion DVD<br /><br />Terry Gilliam's dystopian masterpiece gains both relevance and enjoyability with each passing year, a giddy orgasm of images that seems to combust inwardly from start to finish.<br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 28th<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0078935/">Cannibal Holocaust</a> </span>(1980)</span><br />Dir: Ruggero Deodato<br />Source: Grindhouse DVD<br /><br />If I could never come close to this thing again in my life, death will be a sweet thing indeed. It's not the violence itself that infuriates me - it's the hollow grab towards subversion, which is both dishonest and completely tepid. Please, don't even see this to see how bad it really is. I'd like to think I suffered so that you would not. <a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/cannibal-holocaust-1980.html">Full review here</a>.<br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0099685/">GoodFellas</a> </span>(1990)</span><br />Dir: Martin Scorsese<br />Source: Warner Bros. DVD<br /><br />If I could only pick a handful of films to watch again for the first time, this would be in the running. So few works of art in any medium come close to such a seamlessly sewn whirlwind.<br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 29th<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0117500/">The Rock</a> </span>(1996)</span><br />Dir: Michael Bay<br />Source: Criterion DVD<br /><br />What happened to this Michael Bay? Was he kidnapped by aliens and replaced by an evil, inept spawn of Satan? Either way, <span style="font-style: italic;">The Rock</span> is one of the most enjoyable, relentless and - dare I say it - smart - action films of the 90's (or ever, for that matter). At times it's damn near operatic in tone.<span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">October 30th<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Brazil - The "Love Conquers All" Version </span>(1985)</span><br />Dir: The Corporate Whores of Universal Studios<br />Source: Criterion DVD<br /><br />This cinematic miscarriage is a double edged sword. Fans of Gilliam's masterpiece will be infuriated to see their beloved film ripped apart and reassembled into this purportedly more "commercial" endeavor - a soulless peice of work embarrasingly uneven in tone, a full hour shorter, and obviously culled together from many alternate takes. It has the same skin as <span style="font-style: italic;">Brazil</span>, but hardly anything underneath is the same. On the other hand, the painful experience of this version only makes the real film more savory when one images how close it came to never happening.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-115980528672717589?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1159753343492523572006-10-01T21:24:00.000-04:002006-10-31T01:00:13.443-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/horror_banner.jpg"> <img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/horror_banner.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><br />Of all the genres available to cinema, it is possible that the one that most commonly inspires fear (or aspires to do so) is also open to the most controversy; the production of fear most readily lends itself to exploitation and depravity, which are often perceived regardless. Recently, the portrayal of violence in <span style="font-style: italic;">Wolf Creek</span> rankled Roger Ebert so much that he punished the film with a damning zero stars, sparking a dialogue on the merits of such violence in film; yet, it was that same effect that has caused other critics to commend the film so highly. Such has been the case since Universal's first <span style="font-style: italic;">Frankenstein </span>film, which was deemed so frightening that a warning was included at the beginning of the movie for the more faint of heart. Obviously, there are some cases in which you can just never win, but the fact remains that the horror film and its many subgenres are among those that can most challenge us in the many aspects of our frail humanity. But let's not pigeonhole here; horror movies can be a great deal of fun, too, and sometimes even both at the same time. Horror films are among the foundations of my love of cinema, and some of the most transcendent experiences I have ever had were those when I most feared for my personal safety as a result of the images passing before my eyes. The power of the moving image is indeed a great one, and it is here (in what I hope becomes a yearly tradition) that I hope to examine its potential to chill the bones. Over the next 31 days, I'll be covering various landmarks and lesser-known of the genre, in a relatively chronological fashion. Some of these I have already seen, some I will be experiencing for the first time. My aim was to cover a wide range of styles, directors, subject matters as well as qualities (one of the selected movies stands a good chance at becoming my Worst of All Time, if the little bit I've seen is any indication). Let the viewing begin!<br /><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/frankenstein-1910.html"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/caps/horror_titles/frankenstein10.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/cabinet-of-dr-caligari-1920.html"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/caps/horror_titles/caligari.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/nosferatu-1922.html"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/caps/horror_titles/nosferatu.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/phantom-of-opera-1925.html"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/caps/horror_titles/phantom25.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/dracula-1931.html"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/caps/horror_titles/dracula31.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/frankenstein-1931.html"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/caps/horror_titles/frankenstein31.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/freak-1932.html"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/caps/horror_titles/freaks.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/mummy-1932.html"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/caps/horror_titles/mummy.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/vampyr-1932.html"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/caps/horror_titles/vampyr.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/white-zombie-1932.html"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/caps/horror_titles/whitezombie.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/bride-of-frankenstein-1935.html"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/caps/horror_titles/bride_frankenstein.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/wolf-man-1941.html"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/caps/horror_titles/wolfman.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/blob-1958.html"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/caps/horror_titles/blob58.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/night-of-living-dead-1968.html"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/caps/horror_titles/nightlivingdead.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/wicker-man-1973.html"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/caps/horror_titles/wickerman.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/cannibal-holocaust-1980.html"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/caps/horror_titles/cannibal.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/blob-1988.html"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/caps/horror_titles/blob88.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/10/tremors-1990.html"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/caps/horror_titles/tremors.jpg" /></a><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-115975334349252357?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1159589480631666072006-09-30T00:10:00.000-04:002006-09-30T00:11:20.646-04:00<center><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oCiXvKSwan8"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oCiXvKSwan8" 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/22620924-115958948063166607?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1159587524082590222006-09-29T23:34:00.000-04:002006-09-29T23:38:44.100-04:00I've been a <em>Simpsons</em> fan for a long time, so long that my memories of anticipating it's airing every Thursday (before it was aired daily, such as now) predate almost any other data stored in the recesses of my brain. Just about everyone seems to have their favorite character, episode, scene or line from the show's many seasons. Below you will find my own personal favorite <em>Simpsons </em>moment ever. It isn't inappropriate to say that I nearly dehydrated from crying the first time I saw it, and it still manages to elicit a guffaw when I come across it.<br /><br /><center><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WP0c7mcg_UY"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WP0c7mcg_UY" 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/22620924-115958752408259022?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1159561364176188572006-09-29T16:15:00.000-04:002006-09-29T17:05:22.336-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/Nosferatu_edit.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/Nosferatu_edit.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Taking a hint from <a href="http://www.notcoming.com/">notcoming.com</a> (one of my regular sites of attraction), for the upcoming month of October I'll be - at least theoretically - running something of a horror film marathon. My reasons for this are multiple. Part of me wants to see just how rigorous I can be with film watching, reviewing, analyzing and writing, and, paired with academic work, employment, familial concerns and the upkeeping of a relationship (all of which are substantial), this will be some sort of ultimate test as to my ability to manage my time and retain some composure and sanity under the conditions. Watching movies <span style="font-style: italic;">can </span>be very hard work. Secondly, I simply love the horror genre, it being one of the formulative cinematic elements of my youth that has continued to grow over the years.<br /><br />My goal is to cover numerous milestones and aspects of the genre (directors, styles, subject matters, etc.) in a chronological fashion (so expect the first few entries to be from the silent era). Some of the films I touch upon will be expected Film History 101 material, but I've also tried to throw in some less familiar titles, as well as enough diversity that I'm not bound to love <span style="font-style: italic;">everything </span>that I watch over the next month (one film that I've chosen is intended to be some sort of test for myself, and if nothing else, <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0172156/">Bad Boys II</a> </span>will be given a run for its money for the title of Worst Movie I've Ever Seen).<br /><br />So, if you like, stay tuned in to see if I can keep this up for the full 31 days. I make no predictions myself, and if other aspects of life should prove too great to ward off long enough to watch the next flick, well, it's not like I'm being paid.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-115956136417618857?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1159512489999688192006-09-29T02:29:00.001-04:002006-10-16T20:59:02.673-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/wtc.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/wtc.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0469641/"><i>World Trade Center</i></a>’s script is so bourgeois and reductive that one might mistake it for the latest output from Paul Haggis. Still, just as Clint Eastwood took a flawed script and nurtured it into a near-masterpiece with <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0405159/"><i>Million Dollar Baby</i></a>, that fact only makes what Oliver Stone and his superlative cast managed here all the more impressive. It’s hard to imagine what, subject matter aside, attracted Stone to this particular script, which packages the events of September 11th so tidily as to render many real-life occurrences as potential Hollywood inventions, but it’s also reassuring to see them rendered as respectfully as they are. What was but inches away from a practical remake of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0072308/"><i>The Towering Inferno</i></a> is thankfully the ruminative work it was meant to be, even if it is a bit dodgy along the way.<br /><br />Both <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0475276/"><i>United 93</i></a> and <i>World Trade Center</i> approach the events of September 11th strictly within the context of that day. Neither film knows of any larger contexts, of wars and terrorism, or of the political brouhaha to come; like the people suffering the collective worst day of their lives, they only know the immediately observable details. But while <i>United 93</i> and Paul Greengrass simply use their portrayal to make the viewer as miserable as possible from start to finish (as well as none too subtly underscoring the visceral elements of its subject matter), <i>World Trade Center</i> more aptly appreciates the horror that slowly dawned on that day. For many of those forced to watch the unfolding tragedy on television (as I cannot speak for the residents of the city that never sleeps), the horror, however obvious and potent, took some time to set it (and boy, did it ever). Stone is attuned to the power of the violent spectacle within the context of the city, and especially of the everyday-ness that was so abruptly shattered. <i>United 93</i> treats the hijackings like the eerily foreshadowed events in a sequel to <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0120390/"><i>Turbulence</i></a>; with but one miscalculation of direction (an incredibly stupid pan up towards the two towers followed by a title card reminding us of the date), <i>World Trade Center</i> has no idea of the events to come, they simply <i>happen</i>.<br /><br />Some have criticized <i>World Trade Center</i> for diminishing the scope of the tragedy at hand, a possibility certainly exacerbated by the polished, Hollywood approach employed here (which, for my money’s worth, is no more or less acceptable than a bare-bones independent approach, all things considered equal; shaky camerawork and grainy film stock does not a realistic movie make). While I already addressed the film’s limited knowledge of the sheer mass of death and destruction, I think it important to acknowledge that no film could ever cover the entirety of that unfolding hell on earth. Like <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0120338/"><i>Titanic</i></a> (quite possibly the most humane big-budget disaster film of last century), <i>World Trade Center</i> follows several stories within a larger framework, in this case, those of two Port Authority officers trapped beneath the rubble of the collapsing towers, and their panic stricken families. One could make thousands of films taking place on September 11th, 2001, and never cover the same details twice. What these do offer, however, are intimate details in the greater scale of it all, the events of <i>World Trade Center</i> providing but one look at the damage, both physical and intangible, from a microcosmic perspective.<br /><br />In the case of <i>World Trade Center</i>, it’s hard to draw the line exactly where the faulty script ends and Stone’s more adept direction begins (and, of course, like all marriages of talent in the name of film, the line is somewhat blurry). The first act of the film is the most potently realized, arguably because it offers Stone the most freedom in how he portrays the many wordless events as they unfold (the newly installed digital projectors and sound systems at my local cineplex have thus far done little more than add another opportunity for advertisers and special effects to unconstructively attack my senses, but the use of sound and image during the collapse of the first tower, seen from within, makes it perhaps the most wrenchingly realized fifteen seconds of celluloid so far this year). Once the primary damage has been done, however, the film is more prone to the screenplay 101 pigeonholing, which is less attuned to nuances of character and the far-reaching scale of national tragedy than it is the importance of wrapping a crowd-pleaser with pretty paper and a big bow on top. Leave it to Stone, Cage, and the entirety of the cast, then, to lend the writing with the necessary component of soul, particularly during the agonizingly claustrophobic scenes of the two officers trapped beneath tons of concrete and assorted rubble. <i>World Trade Center</i> might follow the mold too much for a story such as this, but it ultimately knows well enough to acknowledge not only the scope, but the universality, of the tragedy it portrays. Artistically or historically, it may not be a definer, but is both a fitting memorial for the dead a uniter for the living.<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/half-1.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/22620924-115951248999968819?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1159406117726999982006-09-27T17:32:00.000-04:002006-10-16T21:42:48.336-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/up-102_Aguirre_1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/up-102_Aguirre_1.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0068182/"><i>Aguirre, the Wrath of God</i></a> opens with a lightly image whose potency steadily accrues as the sheer scope of it all sets in: a band of humans slowly descending the steep terrain of a fog-shrouded mountainside, so miniscule amongst the landscape that they appear not unlike a line of ants. So too does the entire film feel the impossible weight of the natural world bearing down upon the fragility of mankind, who dares to suggest that he can conquer it and claim it as his own. Less of a criticism of imperialism than a somber, hypnotic mood piece that absorbs, digests, and regurgitates the vanity of mankind’s conquering spirit, <i>Aguirre</i> creeps into the psyche like an anesthetic through an IV tube. It may be the most hauntingly ethereal film even made.<br /><br />Herzog’s camera exists as an almost weightless presence amongst the events of the film, its detached observation at times reflecting the slowly degenerating sanity of its human subjects. This is largely aided by the on-location shooting, typical for Herzog, whose thematic fascination with impossible dreams and grand aspirations was often paralleled in his own cinematic endeavors (none more breathtaking than the physical centerpiece to his masterwork <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0083946/"><span style="font-style: italic;">Fitzcarraldo</span></a>). Here, his subject is the fictitious expedition led by Gonzalo Pizarro, which traveled into the Peruvian jungle in the 17th century in search of the city of gold, El Dorado, a legend forged by the natives they persecuted so as to thwart their conqueror’s efforts. In the uncivilized jungle, they wage a hopeless fight against the elements, prompting Pizarro to send a smaller team of men and slaves downriver to find the mythical city. If they do not return within a week, then the search will be assumed lost.<br /><br />This sub-mission unravels quickly; one of the three rafts is irretrievably caught in a whirlpool, and the tide of the river takes away the remaining rafts during the night while all sleep on shore. Second in command, Don Lupe de Aguirre (Klaus Kinski), sees fame and riches at stake, and successfully mutinies against the leader, Don Pedro de Ursua (Ruy Guerra), when he chooses to abandon the mission and return to Pizarro. The remaining episodes of the journey are nary different than those beforehand, only in that their fruitlessness becomes increasingly more obvious. Having declared rebellion against the crown, Aguirre nominates and crowns a king to represent their new nation – robe, throne and all. Mankind’s rituals are desperately pathetic amidst the amoral and unforgiving jungle.<br /><i><br />Aguirre</i> exists somewhere between the role of a journeyman on the doomed expedition and a celestial presence existing outside of the unfolding events, the latter largely bolstered by the unique, nearly indescribable <a href="http://www.geocities.com/gloriousvain/music/popolvuh_aguirrepti_edit.mp3">score</a> contributed by the German band Popol Vuh (frequent collaborators with Herzog, music often being an integral part to the earthly vigor of his films); rousing choral chants are mixed and layered so as to suggest angels falling from heaven to earth. As Aguirre, Kinski delivers a performance so transfixing and penetrating that one must wonder if he’s really acting at all (the film’s legendary on-location production, which eventually led to threats of murder and suicide between the actor and director, suggests that such is far from unlikely). The low-budget production incidentally befits the material: the sound recorded on the raw footage was so poor in quality as to prove completely useless, forcing the entire soundtrack to be remixed in post-production, the dubbing and subtly unnatural audio adding to the hallucinatory, otherworldly effect projected upon the viewer. The experience of <span style="font-style: italic;">Aguirre </span>is like a slowly disitengrating connection with reality.<br /><br />The cumulative, overwhelming sense of <i>Aguirre</i> is of inescapable death, as both a part of the natural order and a horrifying destination, the course of which cannot be veered from. With delusions of grandeur and a totalitarian reign, Aguirre drives his expedition into the ground and then some, the silent arrows and poison darts lobbed by the native population feeling less and less like a mortal danger than a spiritual release through the demise of the flesh. Fever and hunger take their toll, the meditative images unbound to narrative and relentless in their trance-like persuasion. The final scenes see Aguirre marching across his raft, amongst the dead and dying, his failed civilization drifting hopelessly down the river, overrun by hundreds of tiny monkeys, like some sort of pathetic miracle. It is the effortlessly towering ending to a soulful, harrowing masterpiece.<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/22620924-115940611772699998?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1159194778790552252006-09-25T10:22:00.000-04:002006-09-25T20:31:13.990-04:00That basically sums it up, even though this is but one of many examples of late where I'd have been much happier being wrong with my predictions (and the last thing I want to become is smug). But nevertheless, while this recent onslaught of intelligence is confirming many of my worst political fears, what angers me the most is their timeliness in regards to the ongoing Democrat v. Republican battle. In other words: coming from Democrats and Republicans alike, "we more or less knew this already and simply waited until the most opportune time to tell you." This is no surprise: <span style="font-style: italic;">I've </span>known that our actions since 9/11 have only increased the global terrorist threat against us (of course, who would listen to me, or anyone else that didn't vote for Bush), and I really doubt that all of those in power actually buy their own crap. Nevertheless, here's one of many similair news articles (from my perspective, about three years behind schedule):<br /><br /><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2006/09/24/world/middleeast/24terror.html?ei=5094&en=22b7a0941b08007f&amp;amp;hp=&ex=1159156800&amp;partner=homepage&amp;pagewanted=print">New York Times.</a><br /><blockquote>WASHINGTON, Sept. 23 — A stark assessment of terrorism trends by American intelligence agencies has found that the American invasion and occupation of Iraq has helped spawn a new generation of Islamic radicalism and that the overall terrorist threat has grown since the Sept. 11 attacks.<br /><br />The classified National Intelligence Estimate attributes a more direct role to the Iraq war in fueling radicalism than that presented either in recent White House documents or in a report released Wednesday by the House Intelligence Committee, according to several officials in Washington involved in preparing the assessment or who have read the final document.<br /><br />The intelligence estimate, completed in April, is the first formal appraisal of global terrorism by United States intelligence agencies since the Iraq war began, and represents a consensus view of the 16 disparate spy services inside government. Titled “Trends in Global Terrorism: Implications for the United States,’’ it asserts that Islamic radicalism, rather than being in retreat, has metastasized and spread across the globe.<br /><br />An opening section of the report, “Indicators of the Spread of the Global Jihadist Movement,” cites the Iraq war as a reason for the diffusion of jihad ideology.<br /><br />The report “says that the Iraq war has made the overall terrorism problem worse,” said one American intelligence official.</blockquote><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-115919477879055225?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1158804289860122122006-09-20T22:00:00.000-04:002006-10-16T21:03:08.703-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/lakehouse.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/lakehouse.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0410297/"><i>The Lake House</i></a> employs a bourgeois narrative with a ripe sense of spirituality that borders on divine. For all its polished hoopla and handy-dandy supporting characters, thank director Alejandro Agresti for recognizing (and capitalizing on) the emotional power of a fine visual composition (not to mention his respect for his characters, who live and breath as part of the film rather than being whored out by the script). The titular architectural structure is a unique residence elevated above its shoreline domain on stilt-like appendages, build within and around its natural habitat (not unlike many Frank Lloyd Wright structures) rather than simply on top of it. It is here that Kate (Sandra Bullock) and Alex (Keanu Reeves) live, albeit two years apart, she in 2006 and he in 2004. When Kate moves out and leaves a note for the subsequent tenant in the mailbox, the two discover an inexplicable time portal, the post office’s property somehow existing outside of the timelines that otherwise guide their physical worlds. Subsequent letters sent back and forth through the newfound device instill an otherwise impossible relationship, compounded by the eventual realization of their own previous encounter(s). Certainly, the science fiction device makes little sense, but neither did it in <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0088763/"><i>Back to the Future</i></a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0103064/"><i>The Terminator</i></a> or <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0114746/"><i>12 Monkeys</i></a> if you really think about it (at least when conforming to known physics), and for as easily as the premise could have slid into outright treacle, that alone makes <i>The Lake House</i> its own little miracle (it is worth noting, however, that this is a remake of a <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0077430/">little known foreign film</a>, as of now unseen by me). Aside from uncompounded character evocations, the most effective device here is the camera itself, constantly evoking a spiritual connection between the characters and their environments. Once established, the film takes full advantage of Alex and Kate’s time-defying intimacy, one magical sequence seeing them talking to each other on two separate park benches, passerby fading into and out of the composition, suggesting the intangibility of time, the fragility of prolonged existence and the wonder that any kind of love could ever arise out of such conditions.<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/22620924-115880428986012212?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1158612122137807102006-09-18T16:37:00.000-04:002006-09-18T16:42:02.160-04:00For the record, I do not (although I too am asked the question on a more than regular basis by flag-waving idiots), but I am also the kind of person who will be ruthless in their criticism when I truly believe that what currently exists can be improved upon (many times drastically so). If I really hated America, then I'd keep my mouth shut and watch it spiral downward into oblivion from a distance, rather than immersing myself into the knitty gritty in an effort to stop the Titanic from going under. So while I may try to invoke the "hate the sin, love the sinner" attitude more than the author below, I still find his words of great value.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.counterpunch.org/mickey09162006.html">Mickey Z.: Why I Hate America</a><br /><blockquote>"Why do you hate America?" This is a remarkably easy question to provoke. One might, for instance, expose elements of this nation's brutal foreign policy. Ask a single probing question about, say, U.S. complicity in the overthrow of governments in Guatemala, Iran, or Chile and thin-skinned patriots (sic) will come out of the woodwork to defend their country's honor by accusing you of being "anti-American." Of course, this allegation might lead me to ponder how totalitarian a culture this must be to even entertain such a concept, but I'd rather employ the vaunted Arundhati defense. The incomparable Ms. Roy says: "What does the term 'anti-American' mean? Does it mean you are anti-jazz or that you're opposed to freedom of speech? That you don't delight in Toni Morrison or John Updike? That you have a quarrel with giant sequoias?" (I'm a tree hugger remember? I don't argue with sequoias.)<br /><br />When pressed, I sometimes reply: "I don't hate America. In fact, think it's one of the best countries anyone ever stole." But, after the laughter dies down, I have a confession to make: If by "America" they mean the elected/appointed officials and the corporations that own them, well, I guess I do hate that America-with justification.<br /><br />Among many reasons, I hate America for the near-extermination and subsequent oppression of its indigenous population. I hate it for its role in the African slave trade and for dropping atomic bombs of civilians. I hate its control of institutions like the United Nations, World Bank, International Monetary Fund, and World Trade Organization. I hate it for propping up brutal dictators like Suharto, Pinochet, Duvalier, Hussein, Marcos, and the Shah of Iran. I hate America for its unconditional support for Israel. I hate its bogus two-party system, its one-size-fits-all culture, and its income gap. I could go on for pages but I'll sum up with this: I hate America for being a hypocritical white supremacist capitalist patriarchy.<br /><br />After a paragraph like that, you know what comes next: If you hate America so much, why don't you leave? Leave America? That would potentially put me on the other end of U.S. foreign policy. No thanks.<br /><br />I like how Paul Robeson answered that question before the House Un-American Activities Committee in 1956: "My father was a slave and my people died to build this country, and I'm going to stay right here and have a part of it, just like you. And no fascist-minded people like you will drive me from it.<br />Is that clear?"<br /><br />Since none of my people died to build anything, I rely instead on William Blum, who declares, "I'm committed to fighting U.S. foreign policy, the greatest threat to peace and happiness in the world, and being in the United States I the best place for carrying out the battle. This is the belly of the beast, and I try to be an ulcer inside of it."<br /><br />Needless to say, none of the above does a damn thing to placate the yellow ribbon crowd. It seems what offends flag-wavers most is when someone like me makes use of the freedom they claim to adore. According to their twisted logic, I am ungrateful for my liberty if I have the audacity to exercise it. If I make the choice to not salute the flag during the seventh inning stretch at Yankee Stadium, somehow I'm not worthy of having the freedom to make the choice to not salute the flag during the seventh inning stretch at Yankee Stadium. These so-called patriots not only claim to celebrate freedom while refusing my right to exploit it, they also ignore the social movements that fought for and won such freedoms.<br /><br />There's plenty of tolerated public outcry against the Bush administration and the occupation of Iraq, but it's neither fashionable nor acceptable to go as far as saying, no, I do not support the troops and yes, I hate what America does. Fear of recrimination allows the status quo to control the terms of debate. Until we voice what is in our hearts and have the nerve to admit what we hate...we will never create something that can be loved.</blockquote><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-115861212213780710?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1158595996322411602006-09-18T12:05:00.000-04:002006-10-16T21:01:11.646-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/black.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/black.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0387877/"><i>The Black Dahlia</i></a> is sure to baffle and bewilder audiences everywhere on both sides of the spectrum (that is, to say, in ways perceived as both good and bad), and I’m sure Brian De Palma wouldn’t have it any other way. An adaptation of a fictionalized novel about a real-life Hollywood murder, the film has been shamefully marketed by industry whores as the next <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0119488/"><i>L.A. Confidential</i></a>, and all I can say is it’s damn shame. The ilk of this film is nothing of the sort, genre overlap notwithstanding, and it’s hard to blame viewers expecting a more straightforward crime drama when they enter theaters. Instead, <i>The Black Dahlia</i> is a rampantly overwrought round of genre upheaval, equally indebted to its cinematic predecessors as it is to its director’s wonderfully obtuse visual sleight of hand. “Cocktail” is the only word that comes to mind when attempting to describe the mixture of classic noir and mystery elements with deliberate overdoses of campy magnification. The film harkens back to classic expressionism via its three main characters’ attendance at a screening of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0019130/"><i>The Man Who Laughs</i></a>, fitting, for like that film’s main character (a deformed carnival worker whose face is forever frozen in an eerie grin), <i>The Black Dahlia</i> is a film largely concerned with the nature of surface appearances, reveling in its self-imposed limitations within a world of pure cinema. The cast is almost equally excellent across the board (particularly Scarlett Johansson, who hits the archetype nail most directly on the head), although many will mistake their intentional embodiment of caricatures as flat-out wooden acting. It’s necessary to approach <i>The Black Dahlia</i> with these expectations if one is to experience the film on its own merits, but this is not all to say the film is without its downfalls. Visually, this is one of Brian De Palma’s most refined films yet (his swooping camera motions are both grand in scope and smooth in execution), yet his sense of reckless abandon seems to lose its track during the final act with a considerable drop in energy following suit. Perhaps the source material demanded this unfortunate muting, but either way, one can’t but think <i>The Black Dahlia</i> could have gone out with at least as strong of a bang as it starts.<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/half-1.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/22620924-115859599632241160?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1158551530519658302006-09-17T23:46:00.000-04:002006-10-16T20:41:18.573-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/united-93-box-art-2208.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/united-93-box-art-2208.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Since this is my first “second” review on this blog, let me nip any potential criticisms in the bud this one time only (any future complaints will be pointed in this direction). My philosophy, unlike that of Pauline Kael, is that repeated viewings are as important – sometimes even more so – to appreciating a film than the initial experience. Of course, many of us watch movies more than once all the time, whether for a fun time with friends, to revisit a treasured experience, or, in my case from time to time, to clarify my thoughts on a difficult and unclear initial experience. Some films challenge our perspectives so much that a combination of hindsight and intense rumination is necessary in order to come to a firm conclusion on them, and I don’t like for any of my opinions to be something I am forced to “settle” on. Therefore, in any cases where a repeated viewing of a particular film yields a changed opinion on my part, a second review will be written; this will become my “official” coverage, but the original review will remain listed as a reference point. This site exists just as much for hosting my opinions as it does for tracking my grappling with the medium.<br /><br />My full respect goes to Paul Greengrass for even mounting <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0475276/"><i>United 93</i></a> in the first place. My views are such that film is, at its root, more of an art form than a series of products, and that the relentless “too soon” cries lobbed against both this and Oliver Stone’s (as-of-yet unseen by me) <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0469641/"><i>World Trade Center</i></a> are naively cynical about cinema’s ability to heal the wounds of a collective people through reflection and introspection. A more open society should have been making movies about September 11th years ago (which, to an extent, it has been on a metaphoric level, from the likes of Spike Lee and Steven Spielberg, among others), but nonetheless, to do so even now still risks a ruthless public flogging. Greengrass, however, felt it necessary to add to the collective dialogue through his medium of choice, <i>United 93</i> being the ultimate offspring of his efforts. As expected, reactions ranged wildly, from <a href="http://www.reelviews.net/movies/u/united93.html">James Berardinelli’s</a> outpouring of praise (the film will most likely top his Best of 2006 list) to Slant Magazine’s <a href="http://www.slantmagazine.com/film/film_review.asp?ID=2208">Keith Uhlich’s</a> damning “kiss of death”. Both are opinions I respect, despite, now having revisited the film, disagreeing with on different points and levels. Like so many unnecessarily controversial movies, I fall somewhere near the middle of the polarities.<br /><br />First and foremost, <i>United 93</i> exists to recreate the events on September 11th, 2001, in practically real time, the emphasis lying on the unseen conflict that took place aboard United Airlines Flight 93, the one hijacked airplane to crash before reaching its intended target (factually unknown, but suggested to be the White House in the film). This in itself is achieved with great proficiency, but <i>United 93</i> stops at the level of straightforward docudrama recreation when such should be the platform for a greater inspection into the events of the day. In simple terms, the movies aims to – and succeeds beyond a doubt – at making the viewer miserable from start to finish, the cinematic equivalent of being raped continuously for two hours. This approach proves, sadly, to be a hollow experience; a gaping whole is left at the film’s core by the complete lack of illumination or even inquisition. <i>United 93</i> doesn’t so much want to consider the importance of September 11th or our relationship to it in hindsight as it does convert it into the most unnecessarily torturous roller coaster experience Michael Bay never made.<br /><br />The structure alone indicates that Greengrass’ ambitions outweigh his filmmaking skills; rather than opting for a completely singular experience relegated entirely to the events aboard the flight, the film cuts back and forth between the innards of Flight 93, the air traffic control headquarters in Boston, the FAA, and NORAD, inadvertently setting the film up for standardized (and borderline exploitative) thriller tactics. The respectful approach to the individuals themselves (despite aggravatingly unrealistic performances by the entire cast) ensures that this isn’t the case (the non-judgmental portrayal of terrorist and victim alike is perhaps the most admirable quality of the film, as it allows one to weigh the good and the bad on equal ground), but it’s not hard to imagine what could have been done with an approach less bound to convention.<span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br /><br />The ultimate downfall isn’t that <i>United 93</i> fails to give us any answers, but that it doesn’t ask any questions in the first place. The importance of September 11th is so immense that only generations of hindsight will be able to amply measure it, and for as relentlessly as the film inflicts the unforgettable events on the viewer all over again (in and of itself wholly acceptable), it doesn’t once attempt to ponder the significance and effects of these potent actions and destructive images and the ways in which they’ve changed the world (unacceptable). <i>United 93</i> exists wholly in the moment, and in doing so it suggests that, even five years after the fact, we have to learn or grow from the attacks; this, sadly, is very much true, but that in no way permits the film to get off for its lack of exploration. The film, perhaps in fear of tarnishing the memory of those who died, opts for as apolitical an approach to the material as possible, yet by removing a crucial sense of social importance, it forgets that we're supposed to move onward and upward from the sacrifices that were made, and <i>United 93</i> converts a potential act of growth into an unfortunate case of regression.<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/none.gif" align="left" /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v520/dirtybirds47/none.gif" align="left" /><br /><br />Note: My first-take thoughts on <span style="font-style: italic;">United 93 </span>can be found <a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/05/united-93-2006.html">here</a>.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-115855153051965830?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1158445890937466962006-09-16T18:20:00.000-04:002006-09-16T18:31:30.956-04:00As you may have noticed, I'm continuing to tweak things with the look of the blog, from the header (I think I've settled my screen shot of choice, for now), as well as the visual representations of my "star" ratings. I don't want this blog to become focused more on the look than the content, but a little snazz can't hurt (and just to nip a potential complaint in the bud, no, I didn't "steal" the star graphics from <a href="http://www.reelviews.net/">James Berardinelli's site</a>, although I did have them in mind when I designed them; fate would have it that they are very much alike, and I don't imagine he would have any quibbles with that). I'm more than open to any suggestions for how to potentially take things. I also plan, when time permits, to create a new category in which to archive my non-movie posts (such as my political rantings, for the minority of you, if any, who care) and those that host <a href="http://www.youtube.com/">YouTube</a> clips.<br /><br />Coming soon in the review department: <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0387877/"><span style="font-style: italic;">The Black Dahlia</span></a>, a revisitation to <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0475276/"><span style="font-style: italic;">United 93</span></a>, my first experience with the wonderful <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0040522/">The Bicycle Thief</a>, </span>a dissenting view on <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0449059/"><span style="font-style: italic;">Little Miss Sunshine</span></a>, and my thoughts on the underrated <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0410297/"><span style="font-style: italic;">The Lake House</span></a>. In less than an hour I'll be leaving for my first-ever sneak preview, at which I'll catch <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0406816/"><span style="font-style: italic;">The Guardian</span></a>, starring Ashton Kutcher (find a happy place, find a happy place...), for <a href="http://www.slantmagazine.com/">Slant Magazine</a>, so you can expect a link to that review in the near future. On that note, check out A.O. Scott's <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2006/09/17/movies/17scot.html">article on Brian De Palma</a> in today's New York Times (thanks for the heads-up, Ed), where Slant gets some major word of mouth for their coverage of the director's filmography.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-115844589093746696?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1158423051472077692006-09-16T11:50:00.000-04:002006-09-16T12:10:51.486-04:00<blockquote><a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/news/releases/2006/09/20060915-2.html"><span style="font-weight: bold;">September 15th, 2006</span></a><br /><br />Q: Thank you, Mr. President. Earlier this week, you told a group of journalists that you thought the idea of sending special forces to Pakistan to hunt down bin Laden was a strategy that would not work…recently you’ve also described bin Laden as a sort of modern day Hitler or Mussolini. And I’m wondering why, if you can explain why you think it’s a bad idea to send more resources to hunt down bin Laden, wherever he is?<br /><br />The President: Pakistan is a sovereign nation. In order for us to send thousands of troops into a sovereign nation, we’ve got to be invited by the government of Pakistan.</blockquote><br />Uhm...<br /><br /><blockquote><a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/news/releases/2004/01/20040120-7.html"><span style="font-weight: bold;">2004 State of the Union Address</span></a><br /><br />The President: America will never seek a permission slip to defend the security of our country.</blockquote><br />Ahem?<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/PAAAIAFNHJDPMMCGt.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/400/PAAAIAFNHJDPMMCGt.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-115842305147207769?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1158373997964197032006-09-15T22:31:00.000-04:002006-09-15T22:33:17.980-04:00Don't watch this unless you've seen (and, preferably, loved) both movies.<br /><br /><center><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Qfn3Wk_LnI4"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Qfn3Wk_LnI4" 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/22620924-115837399796419703?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1158259971579521602006-09-14T14:42:00.000-04:002006-10-16T21:03:51.716-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/gojira_dvd.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/gojira_dvd.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Greatness in film often derives less from manifest perfection than it does more debatable flaws. Perfection suggests rigid structure, a quality most in opposition to the exploratory nature of art (although not necessarily in opposition to cinema’s potency as a storytelling medium), and artistic approaches that instill unease or discomfort (or even revilement) on one hand are often the most aesthetically charged and cause for celebration on the other. This kind of introduction would, admittedly, be more appropriate for one of the medium’s many “flawed” masterpieces; <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0078788/"><i>Apocalypse Now</i></a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0217505/"><i>Gangs of New York</i></a> come to mind. Yet in the case of Ishirô Honda’s original <i>Godzilla</i> (to be referred to as its native <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0047034/"><i>Gojira</i></a> hereafter) – a serious examination on the effects of nuclear war that has since become clouded by endless, cheesy sequels, rip-offs, and remakes – there is a definite case of cinematic split personality that should at least be examined before being accepted or rejected. Is it a bad movie? Technically speaking, yes, but movies are much more than just a technical exercise, and to suggest otherwise is to blaspheme. Yet the tagline “The Original Japanese Masterpiece,” printed on the newly released DVD set, is equally misleading.<br /><br />Like many, monster movies were a staple of my youth, and, along with endless “versus” sequels, Godzilla was introduced to me not in the form of <i>Gojira</i>, but the stripped-down, re-edited version released into American several years later (officially known as <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0197521/"><span style="font-style: italic;">Godzilla, King of the Monsters!</span></a>). Purists will endlessly speak of the original version; its scathing indictment of nuclear testing, and of its potent allegory. However, looking at both cuts side by side for the first time, it’s easy to see that the American version doesn’t so much dampen the metaphor as it does negate the originals preachy attitude (not to mention badly editing in Raymond Burr talking to Japanese extras, but nonetheless). Godzilla himself isn’t just a metaphor for nuclear power, he <i>is</i> a physical manifestation of it, and to think that audiences in America wouldn’t have noticed the connection less than ten years after (unnecessarily) kicking Japan’s ass is more than a bit naïve (or, if such was really the case, indicative of their own shortsightedness). <i>Gojira</i>, unlike its American brother, rarely ceases in its agenda pushing (which is not to suggest that agenda pushing is a bad thing in this case), the dialogue ridden with references to the bomb and the dangers thereof. As a 50-meter tall prehistoric menace, Godzilla would be dangerous enough, but when his dorsal fins glow ominously and radioactive fire bellows from his mouth, the lethal side effects of the weapon pack quite a wallop.<br /><br />It’s earnestness notwithstanding, though, <i>Gojira</i> hosts many aspects that would even have the <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0094517/"><i>Mystery Science Theater</i></a> cast rolling their eyes (appropriately enough, they watched many of the sequels in the show’s earlier seasons). With few exceptions, the human performers can’t act a lick, and from strictly technical standards, the film feels assembled from sloppy piecemeal. The latter attribute, however, lends a sense of authenticity through imagination to the film. During its 2004 re-release, <a href="http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20040702/REVIEWS/407020315/1023">Roger Ebert</a> (arguably the most humane and socially conscious movie critic) belittled the movies look and low-budget restrictions. “Godzilla at times looks uncannily like a man in a lizard suit, stomping on cardboard sets, as indeed he was, and did” How ironic (if not necessarily wrong) it is to criticize the output of a country that recently had two major cities wiped clean off the planet for sub-par technical standards, especially when the work in question is a rumination on that very tragedy. Roger continues: “This was not state of the art even at the time; <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0024216/"><i>King Kong</i></a> was much more convincing.” True, but nobody ever thought Kong to be real, and the slight artificiality lent Kong the surreal quality that the best special effects need to instill themselves in our imagination. The same goes for the rubber-suit Godzilla smashing model sets. Unlike the 1998 CGI “Zilla” (for he took the “God” out of Godzilla), there’s personality and soul here, and proper submission to the film will remove concern from the fact that the crashing fire truck and toppling buildings are obviously toys.<br /><br /><i>Gojira</i>’s greatest claim is its destructive centerpiece, in which, prompted by military attacks on his aquatic domain, Godzilla rises from Tokyo bay to pay back the mainland; he is an amoral force of nature as destructive as he is childlike. Most effective is Akira Ifukube’s tense and soulful score, even if it’s used to some maudlin extent at times. Bathed in murky blacks and grays, the destruction of the city is a harrowing sequence, as Godzilla’s lumbering form topples landmarks and crushes onlookers underfoot while his path is marked by a sea of flames rising well above the skyline. Honda shoots these sequences not for their monster mash value, but for their humanitarian undertones, an approach that would rarely be reprised even in the wake of the film’s extensive influence (to date, only Steven Spielberg has topped the film’s use of imagery as an examination of social trauma, in his 9/11-saturated <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0407304/"><i>War of the Worlds</i></a>). Meanwhile, the film adds an extra layer of moral pontification though the subplot involving Dr. Serazawa (Akihiko Hirata), whose scientific research yields an invention capable of destroying Godzilla, but is even more powerful than the forces that triggered him in the first place. <i>Gorjia</i> is a long cry from <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0057012/"><i>Dr. Strangelove</i></a>, but in a day where the leaders of the most powerful country in the world hope to change military regulations so as to allow for first strike with nuclear arms, Godzilla is still as relevant a monster as ever.<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" /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap277.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/320/cap277.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-115825997157952160?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1158111823730557472006-09-12T21:41:00.000-04:002006-09-12T21:43:43.746-04:00Keith Olbermann says it all far better than I could ever hope to. Somebody take the transcript and publish it in every textbook and newspaper across the country, please.<br /><br /><center><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sA1vLDK_gQY"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sA1vLDK_gQY" 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/22620924-115811182373055747?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1158079551715751452006-09-12T10:55:00.000-04:002006-10-16T21:39:58.210-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/Breaking_The_Waves_Poster.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/Breaking_The_Waves_Poster.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>My chief concern with this review is that it might fail in giving the movie in question enough credit, so let me abandon any sense of subtlety for a moment and lay it out in simple terms: Lars Von Trier's <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0115751/"><i>Breaking the Waves</i></a> is the best film I have yet seen from the 1990’s. Influenced by – but not in complete accordance with the rules of – the Dogme 95 cinematic movement co-founded by von Trier himself, the film takes a relatively simple story and reinvigorates its potential by stripping its technical qualities down to the bare, earthly elements. We’ve seen this sort of tale before, from Hollywood classics to Oscar-tailored hackwork to Lifetime movies of the week, but never with as much pulsing life force as exhibited here. Of course, one could hotly debate that Emily Watson is the chief reason for the films’ success (I’m more of a parts-to-the-whole onlooker than one who singles out specific elements), her performance as the naïve but loving and faithful Bess McNeill one of magnificent range and staggering emotional potential. No offense, Francis, but you can’t hold a candle.<br /><br />The opening scene finds Bess asking her local church elders (to whom, after God, she has always been most committed) for permission to marry her love, Jan (Stellan Skarsgård), who works on an oil rig north of her Scotland home. Permission is granted, hesitantly, and Bess’ best friend Dodo (Katrin Cartlidge) openly expresses her initial distrust to the new husband. (spoilers herein) Bess’ regular, open prayers to God do little to ease her pain when Jan has to leave again to work, and when Jan comes back early from a devastating neck injury after Bess asks God to bring him home, she sees herself to blame for his potentially paralyzing accident. Through her selfless dedication to God and Jan, Bess believes herself to be the only one who can save Jan; perhaps due to overmedication and hallucinations, the nearly crippled Jan asks Bess to make love to other men so that the stories of her endeavors might keep him alive longer. The more his condition worsens, the more desperate and dangerous her behavior becomes. All in the name of love.<br /><br />As someone who knows people who have a hard time separating the concepts of religion and faith, it’s nothing short of my own little miracle to come across a film with such a boundless sense of the latter while also mercilessly indicting the hatred so often present in more fundamentalist brands of organized worship. At Bess’ church, woman can neither talk nor attend the burial during funerals, and after the wedding ceremonies, one of Jan’s rig buddies remarks how dull it is to have a church with no bells. The God Bess looks to and that which her church imagines are two distinctly different entities, and it’s not hard to guess which one ultimately provides her with redemption in the darkest of hours (long after her family and community have turned their backs). The film’s cumulative emotional wallop (during which my emotional display was nothing short of violent) is inseparable from its no-bullshit aesthetic; shot on video and transferred to film, the stark, grainy look lends itself to human emotion infinitely more than polished production values. The end result is an awe-inspiring testament to the power of life over death, of goodwill in the face of despair, and of love of a higher good in the face of earthly oppression. Even the bells of heaven would toll for a girl like Bess.<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 /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap243.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/320/cap243.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/cap243.jpg"><br /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-115807955171575145?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1158025067977202052006-09-11T21:24:00.000-04:002006-09-11T21:37:47.993-04:00With the exception of types and other insubstantial quibbles, my aim is to use this blog as sort of a running documentation, something to mirror myself as a writer, movie-lover, and a citizen, and because of that I feel it would be immoral to edit past entries or to change it in retrospect to make myself feel better. But, I can add to it, and use those additions to comment on things from the past. The past I speak of now is only a few hours ago, today. Truthfully, I feel that I unintentionally muted myself and my thoughts in my earlier post, somehow thinking that being truly expressive about my feelings might be the honorable thing to do. Bullshit. If I - or anyone else - has been angered by the U.S.'s actions since the worst day of our collective lives, it's no fucking "honor" to the dead to hold it back. Doing just that is the most offensive thing possible, because, if one truly beleives that their deaths have been manipulated for greed, evil, and other virtues of corruption, then keeping our cans shut is the worst thing possible.<br /><br />So, how do I feel about the United States? Its government? I'm ashamed that almost half (if not more) of our country has succumbed to fear since then, clinging to insecure patriotism rather than dealing with the facts. I'm ashamed that the people who represent me are so condescending ("They hate us because of our freedoms." <span style="font-style: italic;">No--</span>they hate us because of our involvement in the Middle East. It's not who we are, it's what we do). I'm ashamed that we've rushed into battle without a well defined plan, and I'm ashamed that we accept such bullshit on a daily basis under the pretense of it keeping us safe. I'm ashamed that most of us would rather accept an easy solution than accepting the harder truths, especially after those truths came home and murdered over 3,000 innocent people. I'm ashamed that we have reciprocated those actions by senselessly murdering more innocent people, and then hiding behind a flag and a cross rather than persecuting the assholes who call themselves American soldiers.<br /><br />I'm ashamed that I have done more yet to correct these wrongs.<br /><br />Greg Saunders, over at <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://thismodernworld.com/">This Modern World</a>, </span>sums up many of my thoughts better than I could.<br /><br /><a href="http://thismodernworld.com/3146">http://thismodernworld.com/3146</a><br /><br /><blockquote>To me it’s impossible to separate 9/11 from Hurricane Katrina. For four years we’d been promised that the leadership of George Bush and the Republican party could keep us safe, yet the aftermath of a natural disaster showed us that the federal government can’t even protect us from a threat they have a week to prepare for. How could we expect them to respond to a dirty bomb attack, on electromagnetic pulse, a nuclear bomb smuggled in a shipping container, another anthrax attack, a few trucks filled with fertilizer explosives surrounding a sports arena, or more airliners hijacked with terrorists using ceramic or plastic blades and crashing them into chemical plants, the New York Stock Exchange, or the Capitol building during the State of the Union?<br /><br />So, where does that leave us? Well, the presidential administration we’re stuck with for the next two years is a deadly combination of arrogance, stubbornness, and being-wrong-about-everything-ness. But it is an election year (which you may have guessed from the President’s suddenly sparked interest in Osama Bin Laden), so there’s still an opportunity to change course.<br /><br />So on this fifth anniversary of the worst day of my life, I’m tired of watching the country be crippled by its grief and fear. We’re in danger, things aren’t getting better, and we need to keep asking the same goddamn questions until we get answers. Who’s keeping us safe? Well, I know who <em>isn’t</em>.</blockquote><br />So yet again we trip over the classic flaw of supporting mediocrity rather than demanding better standards. That we haven't impeached this egghead says enough about American standards this very day. I can only hope that the time period during which I've grown up will one day be read in textbooks as the dark ages from which the American people one day overcome. If not, then I'll at least make sure it isn't my fault.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-115802506797720205?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1157996696374158382006-09-11T13:44:00.000-04:002006-09-11T13:44:56.390-04:00<p class="MsoNormal">What can be said, really, that hasn’t been yet? Only five years have passed, but my guess is there are few people out there who can honestly say they haven’t been of an epic stretch. Reactions, of course, have been wildly different, and almost too much so. We now live in a black and white world, when such a destructive event should have unified us. Everything is now us versus them, left and right, democrat and republican, and no one wants to look further to distinguish the grey areas between absolute right and wrong.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">This attitude has, unfortunately, encompassed the rest of the world, to an extent. Some fellow countries and their populations have insensitively insinuated that we need to “get over” the attacks, a statement triggered by our leaders’ despicable manipulation of the events to drive and justify their political aims, but one that forgets the deep emotional wounds that need to be healed. The United States has not (nor has it ever) been the ultimate purveyor of good this past half-decade, but looking at how deeply divided our ideas are of late will tell you how committed many of us are to bringing about a sense of good in the world (even if many of us are, one way or another, misguided in out attempts). We’re not “the greatest country in the world,” and nor is any one in particular. The last time I checked, the earth was round, and all efforts should be communal, not self-servicing, as they too often prove to be. We’ve certainly strayed off that track lately through our zealous nationalism and irrational, impatient approach to protecting ourselves. In defending our own soil, we’ve created fertile ground elsewhere to breed more of the hateful ideas that hurt us in the first place.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The introspection brought about by the attacks and their political aftermath is one that I doubt will ever go away, at least in my lifetime or as regards myself personally. I can’t speak for everyone. I do know, however, in regard to the person I am now as opposed to the person I was before <st1:date year="2001" day="11" month="9">Tuesday, September 11^th, 2001</st1:date>, that those events are certainly among the most important of my still young life. This goes without saying. Where I, my friends, the country, and the world goes with these yet remains to be seen. Yes, we must remember the dead, remember what they died for, but we must also strain to make sense of it all within the quagmire. Hindsight is always 20/20, but we can’t expect to be afforded that opportunity. My opinion is that the U.S.’s military response has thus far been the equivalent of an enraged, blind Wolverine lashing out at anyone within his vicinity, destroying as many enemies as he makes. I can only hope I’m wrong, but the more I look at the facts, the more my head tells me otherwise.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m almost ashamed to only be writing this today. Certainly, I’ve written about this and many other related aspects of the whole misbegotten situation many days before, but to relegate it only to the dreadful anniversary seems an act of cowardice. We must carry these memories with us every day, but rather than dwelling on them, we must move on and make the best use of them in the future. I fear that we’re yet far from doing so, and that one tragedy will only lead to another. Only time will tell, but we are not fruitless in our actions. Now, more than ever, apathy is the greatest enemy we have to face. I can only hope we choose to avoid its stranglehold.<br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-115799669637415838?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1157858188719746572006-09-09T23:11:00.000-04:002006-09-09T23:33:13.776-04:00I'm the kind of person who, every couple of months, rearranges all the furniture in his living space so as to distill any ongoing sense of monotony. Change, even if only superficial and on the surface, helps make life more interesting, so it is only appropriate that that notion should also extend here. I'm not entirely finished playing around with the look of the site, but I'm pretty happy with this standardized template I found online (at least until my own coding skills improve). The only major thing I yet want to do is to enlarge the title bar atop the page and link a photo for the header, hopefully a screenshot that can be rotated every now and then to highlight another of my favorite films. Also, one final note: I'm a stickler for little things, and while I'd be happiest to review movies without a rating system, I've realized that stars, not letters, are my preference, and I'm still not so far along here that converting my older reviews is an impossibility. The most problematic aspect of this is the alteration of outside links, so it might be a bit dodgy handling that, but otherwise, expect my assessments to evolve from letters to either a four or five-star system in the near future.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-115785818871974657?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1157736161024771412006-09-08T13:14:00.000-04:002006-09-08T13:22:41.056-04:00Several months back, angered at the almost universal revilement critics (not to mention audiences) have had towards his body of films (which includes <span style="font-style: italic;">House of the Dead</span>, <span style="font-style: italic;">Alone in the Dark</span>, and <span style="font-style: italic;">BloodRayne</span>), German director Uwe Boll proposed a challenge to his biggest detractors: a boxing match that would ultimately be featured in his next movie (entitled <span style="font-style: italic;">Postal</span>, about a mailman going, well, you know).<br /><br /><center><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GjM2w5FOPQw"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GjM2w5FOPQw" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"></embed></object></center><br /><br />What he failed to mention is that he's a semi-pro boxer. Well, la-de-da. It shames me to see that anyone who would even call himself a "critic" would sink to this kind of juvenile sparring; yes, <span style="font-style: italic;">obviously </span>ones level of training in sports equates to their ability to make good movies (or, at the least, movies of which the act of watching isn't equatable to having one's insides carved out with a rusty spoon). Guess what, Uwe? <span style="font-style: italic;">Your movies still suck</span>. Horrifically so. If human civilization should fall and all that remains is a copy of <span style="font-style: italic;">House of the Dead</span>, whatever culture unearths it will celebrate out departure. Why not take up boxing, or, for that matter, anything which you're remotely good at. You can't even approximate the labour-of-love awfulness that is Ed Wood's filmography. <span style="font-style: italic;"></span>And the truly ironic thing is, for as insignificant as is his boxing victory, the video you see above is of better quality than all the best elements of at least Uwe's first two <span style="font-style: italic;">feature-length </span>films <span style="font-style: italic;">combined</span>.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-115773616102477141?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1157666559897140992006-09-07T17:58:00.000-04:002006-10-16T21:05:19.946-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/poster2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/poster2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Despite the departure of Nicole Kidman and James Caan (and the subsequent replacement by Bryce Dallas Howard and Willem Dafoe) and the passage of several years since <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0276919/"><i>Dogville</i></a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0342735/"><i>Manderlay</i></a> continues the same path without missing a beat, although it begs the question of whether this slightly different material merited the same minimalist style as its predecessor. Surely a trilogy (to be concluded with <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0461425/"><i>Wasington</i></a> - that's right, no "h") that largely concerns itself with the superficiality of appearances wouldn’t itself need to conform to a continuous thread of visual similarity, but perhaps this is less a case of misused devices than it is merely an acknowledgment of how exceedingly well <i>Dogville</i> employed the same challenging approach. Grace (now played by a red-haired Howard) and her father’s roving gangsters have just left (after having obliterated) Dogville, and, traveling through the heartland of America, happen upon an enclosed plantation where, over seventy years after the abolition of slavery, the practice is still very much in full swing. Her guilty liberal attitude in full upswing, Grace uses her familial power to correct these discovered ills, although it quickly becomes apparent that, her best intentions notwithstanding, she isn’t entirely able to convert these sheltered negroes into equal, democratic citizens; habit and ingrained mentalities initially caused by enslavement linger long after freedom has been bestowed. In this regard, <i>Manderlay</i> outdoes almost any recent effort of late when it comes to deconstructing racial relations in America (I’m talking to you, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0375679/"><i>Crash</i></a>), even if it does so on a relatively specific historical level. The artificial aesthetic of the film is less overtly handled this time around (if I recall, only once did a character mime knocking on an invisible door), but nor do its events conclude with the same wrenching aplomb, all in all making for a slightly more ponderous – if less dramatically satisfying – example of a Von Trier puppet show.<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/22620924-115766655989714099?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1157663385655990482006-09-07T17:07:00.000-04:002006-10-16T20:52:49.356-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/03.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/200/03.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Quality notwithstanding, the marketing campaign for <i>The Break-Up</i> - which cast the film as something of a follow-up to lead Vince Vaughn’s comedic mega-hit <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0396269/"><i>Wedding Crashers</i></a> - is one of the more heinous recent moves on the part of the entertainment industry. Still, the <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0070644/"><i>Scenes from a Marriage</i></a> reminiscent poster, culling the <a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/d/dc/Scenes_from_a_Marriage_DVD_cover.jpg/200px-Scenes_from_a_Marriage_DVD_cover.jpg">same imagery</a> of a couple upright in bed, is quite appropriate in projecting the film’s general tonalities. A generally dark examination of the end of a relationship which, were it not for a mixture of embarrassingly slapdash comedic elements possibly edited in after test audiences demanded more humor, might have been able to hold a minute candle to Bergman’s masterpiece, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0452594/"><i>The Break-Up</i></a> suffers from an inappropriate adherence to Hollywood convention even when the script screams for otherwise. Vaughn and Aniston are Gary and Brooke, whose long-term union suddenly reaches a breaking point: his obsession with videogames and her workaholic attitude finding no similar grounds on which to unify. The film finds effective expressions of separation and internal conflict by means of the architectural placement within their condo unit, but the dialogue (which makes up most of the films’ backbone) generally fails to probe amply beneath the surface, dealing more in generalities than exploring the intimate details of these characters. There’s more to love than hate here, but even its high-aimed but low-fueled intentions are thrown horribly askew by the reliance on overtly homosexual and needlessly weird supporting characters for inconsistent laughs, seemingly meant to break the otherwise overriding tension.<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/none.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/22620924-115766338565599048?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1157515394903263242006-09-05T23:29:00.000-04:002006-09-07T10:16:36.816-04:00I've said this before, but I'll state it again just for the record. I like <span style="font-style: italic;">Star Wars</span>. I own the original trilogy on both VHS and DVD, and also have <span style="font-style: italic;">Episode II </span>(however painful large portions of it are) on DVD (<span style="font-style: italic;">III </span>will follow, when my budget is more accommodating). I saw the prequels in the theaters, the latter two at the infamous midnight showings. But, nonetheless, <span style="font-style: italic;">Star Wars </span>is overrated. They're far from my favorite movies. Sure, they're great fun, but they don't give me much in the way of deep feeling like the best movies do (<span style="font-style: italic;">E.T. </span>and <span style="font-style: italic;">The Terminator </span>do this, to name two examples from within the same general genre). Nonetheless, I'm sure I'll watch the first two films at least several more times before I die.<br /><br />However...<br /><br />At some point, you need to draw the line. The more zealous of fans quite literally scare me from time to time. My physical safety has been <span style="font-style: italic;">threatened</span> at times when I didn't speak of <span style="font-style: italic;">Star Wars </span>as if it were some sort of deity. Now, this. <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span>This</span> is one of those times.<br /><br />From <a href="http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/blogs/sfgate/detail?blogid=3&entry_id=8393">SFGate</a>:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/femtroop6240x320.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/320/femtroop6240x320.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/femtroopers_2240x320.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/320/femtroopers_2240x320.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/femtroopers3240x320.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/320/femtroopers3240x320.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Uhm... no, no, no, and <span style="font-style: italic;">no</span>. Am I being sexist here? I suppose one could interpret it that way, although that is not what I intend. If female fans out there want to dress up as Stormtroopers, by all means. But I imagine that is less the case than it is the demand for this kind of fetishistic indulgance by the mostly virginal fan base, one that, however slimly I might technically be a part of by means of simply liking the movies, I increasingly want to be disassociated from specifically for these reasons. Get out and get a life, please! Watch other movies! Go to a strip club, even! Then again, were it not for people this outrageously committed to but 6-12 hours of celluloid, we wouldn't have this to enjoy:<br /><br /><center><object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WJ6dyIXxKmM"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WJ6dyIXxKmM" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="350" width="425"></embed></object></center><br /><br />On another note: the is the same theater that I got to see <i>2001</i> at.<br /><br />EDIT: Unfortunately, the video previously hosted by YouTube has now been removed due to copyright violations. Unable to host this myself, I can only recommend that you take a look at the <span style="font-style: italic;">Triumph</span> DVD collection; the skits are often scattershot, but when it comes to mindless lowbrow humor, few things tickle me more than the cigar-chomping mutt insulting juvenile <span style="font-style: italic;">Star Wars </span>fans and <span style="font-style: italic;">American Idol </span>wannabes, or guest hosting a local Hawaii weather channel.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-115751539490326324?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1157507728327642012006-09-05T21:46:00.000-04:002006-09-05T21:55:28.360-04:00I never watched any of his endeavors much, but as a lover of nature as well as one who respects those who commit themselves to that which they love, my hat comes off to Mr. Irwin. He leaves behind an example to us all (the passage below comes from Warren Demontague on <span style="font-style: italic;">Greg the Bunny</span>, in regards to the passing of a fellow cast member. He didn't die from a stingray, but I think the words retain the same meaning). Crikey!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/1600/SteveIrwin_Gilbo_529323_Max.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4993/1867/320/SteveIrwin_Gilbo_529323_Max.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />"I can think of nothing more beautiful than to depart this earth doing what it is that you love. And, in Rochester's case, performing, dancing under those bright lights, a hoofing cowboy dying with his boots on. So I salute you, Rochester, my rival, my friend, for going out in a grand, theatrical style. And I tip my hat to Greg. Son, you cared enough to give Rochester the greatest gift that a man can receive. A smile to shape his very last breath. So, to Rochester."<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22620924-115750772832764201?l=afilmodyssey.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rob humanicknoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22620924.post-1157303195767542422006-09-03T12:56:00.000-04:002006-10-02T12:09:05.726-04:00<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >September 1st</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0374568/"><em>A Cantor's Tale</em></a> (2004)</span><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Dir: Jack Mendelson<br />Source: Ergo Media Screener VHS<br /><br />This little indie documentary doesn't even have its own IMDB page yet (updated September 14th); it opens in New York City on the 6th.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.slantmagazine.com/film/film_review.asp?ID=2481">Full review here.</a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><br /><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >September 2nd</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0286751/"><span style="font-style: italic;">Kairo</span></a></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" > </span><span style="font-size:130%;">(2001)</span><br />Dir: Kiyoshi Kurosawa<br />Source: Magnolia Pictures DVD<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Possibly the single best thing to emerge out of the recent J-horror wave (as opposed to <em>The Grudge</em>, which I stumbled out of laughing after but half an hour), Kurosawa's ruminating work employs conventions of the horror genre in service of a soul-stripping look at a culture descending into complete apocalypse as a result of its indulgances into technology. The living are estranged from each other, and the dead are resurfacing in the physical realm. The ghostly, repeating plea for help is one of the most frightening things I've ever heard in a film.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>September 3rd</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><em><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0389860/">Click</a></em> (2006)</span><br />Dir: Frank Coraci<br />Source: Theatrical Print<br /><br />Well here's a movie I'm more than a bit bipolar about. At the halfway point, I was ready to award this latest Adam Sandler vehicle an early placement on my worst-of-2006 list. Then, in a series of completely unmerited (yet somehow still effective) steals from <em>It's a Wonderful Life</em>, whaddya know, it kind of won me over. Still, the movie is not without its problems, even if it ultimately does exhibit some very genuine insights that, although downtrodden by conventions taken from thousands of other films, still feel like they come from some true experience. Adam Sandler would be much better off, however, if he could divorce his attempts at imporating wisdom from his fondness for nasty (and often painfully unfunny) jokes involves swearing children, small penises, and horny canines.<br /></span><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>September 4th</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><em><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0105151/">The Player</a></em> (1992)</span><br />Dir: Robert Altman<br />Source: New Line DVD<br /><br />Kind of the retroactive flipside to Spike Jonze's <em>Adaptation.</em>, <em>The Player </em>takes a highly fictionalized look at the upper end of movie production, employing every convention in the book only to turn them on their head in a gloriously cynical indictment of cinematic superficiality. It's sad because it's so very true. And, I quote: "Where the fuck is your mother buried?"<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" ><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0074285/">Carrie</a> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">(1976)</span><br />Dir: Brian De Palma<br />Source: MGM DVD<br /><br />This is the first movie to be seen in my current attempt to catch up on all things De Palma (previously, I've only watched </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >Scarface </span><span style="font-size:100%;">and </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >The Untouchables</span><span style="font-size:100%;">, the two movies apparently most unlike his regular form). The regular charge against De Palma is that he too much emphasizes style over substance; chances are that most are unable to see the substance </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >through </span><span style="font-size:100%;">the style, especially since De Palma likes to blow things slightly out of proportion to begin with, and to delicious effect. "Horror" is a limiting term to assign to this film, as it is equally about social cruelty (De Palma hit the nail on the head here long before Columbine) and religious oppression as it is its visceral destruction. I imagine my enjoyment of this will only grow with my knowledge of De Palma's catalogue and my becoming accustomed to his intentionally obtuse stylistics.<br /></span><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>September 6th<br /></strong><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" ><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0452594/">The Break-Up</a> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">(2006)</span><br />Dir: Peyton Reed<br />Source: VHS Screener<br /><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/09/break-up-2006.html">Full review here</a>.<br /></span><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>September 7th<br /></strong><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" ><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0342735/">Manderlay</a> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">(2005)</span><br />Dir: Lars Von Trier<br />Source: IFC DVD<br /><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/09/manderlay-2005-b.html">Full review here</a>.<br /></span><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>September 8th</strong><br /></span><p><span style="font-size:130%;"><em><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0475944/">The Covenant</a></em></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"> (2006)</span><br />Dir: Renny Harlin<br />Source: Theatrical Print</span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">More special-effect soulless studio crap. <a href="http://www.slantmagazine.com/film/film_review.asp?ID=2505">Review here</a>.<br /></span><br /></p> <hr style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />September 10th</span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong></strong></span> <p><span style="font-size:130%;"><em><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0115751/">Breaking the Waves</a></em></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"> (1996)</span><br />Dir: Lars Von Trier<br />Source: Artisan DVD<br /><br />This is the kind of movie that tears you open, shakes you to the core, and changes your very life in the process. The ending is one of the most heavenly things I've ever seen.<br /></span></p> <p><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/09/breaking-waves-1996.html">Full review here</a>.<br /></span><br /></p> <hr style="font-size:85%;"> <p><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >September 13th</span><br /></p> <span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0047034/"><span style="font-style: italic;">Gojira (Godzilla)</span></a> (1954)</span><br />Dir: Ishirô Honda<br />Source: Sony DVD<br /><br /><a href="http://afilmodyssey.blogspot.com/2006/09/gojira-godzilla-1954.html">Full review here</a>.<br /></span><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >September 15th<br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" ><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0040522/">The Bicycle Theif</a> </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;">(1948)</span><br />Dir: Vittorio De Sica<br />Source: DVD<br /><br />It's about time I caught up with this much-deserved classic, a mournful look at the crushing effects of an employment shortage on the lower classes, and the economic circumstances that all but demand a compromise of one's ethics so that they and their family won't go hungry. And, to respond to Griffin Mill: No, we shouldn't remake this one.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" ><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0387877/">The Black Dahlia</a> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">(2006)</span><br />Dir: Brian De Palma<br />Source: Theatrical Print<br /><br />That this one is getting almost vitriolic negative responses from critics and audiences alike is probably as satisfying an outcome as De Palma could have hoped for. To risk sounding snobbish (although I really don't care), <span style="font-style: italic;">The Black Dahlia</span>'s delicious mixture of intentionally overcooked genre conventions and overwrought campiness is something that will go over most people's formalism-demanding heads. Sure, the movie isn't without its misfires, and it all kind of fails to gel together in a wholly satisfying way in the end, but I'll be damned if De Palma's latest exercise in intentional cartoon-ery isn't one of the most entertaining things I've seen this year. Damn the studios for misadvertising a film and outright damning it once again, for this is not (and nor does it aspire to be) <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0119488/"><span style="font-style: italic;">L.A. Confidential</span></a>.<br /></span><br /><hr style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >September 16th<br /><br /></span><font><span style="font-size:130%;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0406816/"><span style="font-style: italic;">The Guardian</span></a> (2006)</span><br />Dir: Andrew Davis<br />Source: Theatrical Print<br /><br /><a href="http://www.slantmagazine.com/film/film_review.asp?ID=2523">Ugh.</a></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><br /><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><hr style="font-size:85%;"><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><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >September 20th</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0437800/"><http:><span style="font-style: italic;">Akeelah and the Bee</span></http:></a></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" > </span><span style="font-size:130%;">(2006)</span><br />Dir: Doug Atchinson<br />Source: Lions Gate DVD<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">That <span style="font-style: italic;">Akeelah and the Bee</span>'s trailer was a perfect fit was, unfortunately, the worst kind of advertising imaginable, for while the film calls to mind thousands of others made in the same vein, the difference between that <span style="font-style: italic;">Akeelah</span> brings honesty and emotional weight to material plundered for cheap effect countless times before. Some parts are a bit creaky, particularly some flirtations with racial stereotype, but while the film might exist within a well-known mold, even then it provides dimension and motivation. This one slipped under the radar in theaters; hopefully it will find its home on DVD with the right audience.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><hr style="font-size:85%;"><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&