Sunday, September 25, 2011

Paris, Texas

The most beautiful film I've seen since viewing Emir Kusturica's Underground is Wim Wenders's Paris, Texas. It felt so great to be watching a movie where the soundtrack, cinematography, direction, editing, script and acting are harmoniously united and thought provoking throughout.

Two brothers, both married, one with a child, one without. One brother is successful and living the suburban dream, the other suffers a breakdown when his marriage collapses and disappears for four years, leaving his son in his brother's care.

He suddenly surfaces after collapsing on the floor of a rural diner in Texas, the attending doctor finding his brother's phone number on a card in his possession. Contact is made and his brother (Dean Stockwell as Walt Henderson) arrives to convince him to come home. But Travis (Harry Dean Stanton) refuses to talk and is reluctant to return as he can't find the psychological means to face the pressures of the life he left behind.

But Walt slowly and patiently encourages him to forgo his fear and travel to Los Angeles to be reunited with his son Hunter (Hunter Carson). As the two hit it off, Travis begins to dream of the family life he left behind, and his thoughts turn towards a rapprochement with love interest Jane Henderson (Nastassja Kinski).

Two dimensions subtly and shyly debate throughout, both in relation to what's best for Hunter. He's living a happy life with Walt and Anne (Aurore Clemént) and was basically ditched by Travis who mysteriously disappeared for 4 years, contacting no one. But Travis is his father and not everyone negotiates the trials of a struggling marriage convoluted by an unrewarding professional life seamlessly. He obviously lacks certain qualities that are traditionally aligned with conservative conceptions of maturity. But his endearing childlike gentle curiosity is matched by his modest caring dreamlike individuality to encourage you to hope that he can raise Hunter and be a strong father whose sympathetic disposition nurtures his son's gifts.

Suddenly you find yourself embodying the symbolic, keeping your dreams alive through the related possibilities presented by the imaginary. But the real's presence remains a consistent challenge as unforeseen developments, financial predicaments, and social consequences consistently demand dynamic discursive responses, from which a new set of circumstances arises, wherein the framework has been realigned yet is still dependent upon historical spectres whose often misremembered anti-contextual vitality refuses to easily permit any stable sense of well being, and so on. The weight of these power struggles can often be too much which results in a victory for the real who consequently presents a means by which to attain the imaginary whose potential objectivity is decreased significantly (you have neither contacts nor resources but are free to consider whatever you like).

And time passes and co-habitation becomes impossible and the bitter force of the split internally collides with the initial passion of the romance at indeterminate intervals throughout the course of the day resulting in a potential psychological stalemate if there's no alternative which presents itself, whatever it might be.

And time continues to pass and realities continue to exist and forgiveness and explanations begin to discover an outlet which wasn't present during the height of the competition and the option for peace unexpectedly presents itself.

In an exceptionally touching scene Travis and Jane discuss what happened, why it happened, how. Leading up, Wenders's direction leaves us in a state of incredibly anxious anticipation before delivering a patient, stunning, tear jerking piece of temperately crafted cinematic perfection, as the real, symbolic, and imaginary momentarily crystallize.

Soundtrack by Ry Cooder, cinematography by Robby Müller, editing by Peter Przygodda, adapted by L.M. Kit Carson, written by Sam Shepard.

Dolphin Tale

Dolphins, swimming around, investigating things, discussing various topics, demonstrating interest, responding playfully, gregarious and cheerful, mischievous, resilient, diligent, ebullient. I've always enjoyed watching dolphins go about their dolphin related business and Charles Martin Smith's Dolphin Tale provides plenty of dolphin focused activity.

There's just one problem.

Winter, the dolphin about whom this tale is told, has had to have her tail removed after complications resulting from being entangled in a crab trap. The Clearwater Marine Hospital is dedicated to her rehabilitation, but after she learns to swim by moving her back from side to side instead of up and down (as she would had she a tail), it becomes apparent that her spinal cord won't be able to withstand the unnatural movement, meaning her future is in jeopardy.

Enter Sawyer Nelson (Nathan Gamble), the boy who helped save Winter from the crab trap. Winter takes a shine to Sawyer and responds more positively to his care than to that of her other attendants. Sawyer's cousin (Austin Stowell as Kyle Connellan) unfortunately has his legs damaged in an explosion which sends him to a hospital specializing in prosthetics.

Which gives Sawyer an idea.

Perhaps a prosthetic tail can be made for pesky Winter, thereby saving her spinal chord and ensuring that she will be able to swim till an old age.

Will this tail be ready in order to showcase Winter at an event designed to raise funds to prevent the Clearwater Marine Hospital from being sold to a corporation and turned into a hotel?

Only time will tell.

Watching the film will also tell, and if you want to see a somewhat cheesy yet inspiring and uplifting story wherein a shy disengaged youth learns to make friends and become a contributing community member (even though he has no love for prepositional phrases), full of plenty of exciting shots of a dolphin who won't let things like not having a tail keep her down, Dolphin Tale is for you. And even though there are two single parent families within and their children become good friends, the father and mother don't establish a romantic relationship, which is where I thought the script was headed.

To learn more about the Clearwater Marine Hospital Aquarium and follow Winter's adventures, visit here.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Godspeed

Appetites, duty, faith.

Struggling to rediscover his gift from God, an alcoholic adulterous healer's family is slain while he lies in bed drunk with another woman. Charlie Shepard's (Joseph McKelheer) resultant collapse is magnified by the intensity of his dereliction as he blindly seeks to realign his reason.

With a mangled Bible in hand.

A young girl by the name of Sarah Roberts (Courtney Halverson) reckons she can help and comes to beg Charlie to use his healing power to save her father. Charlie had tried to heal her mother years ago only to fail. But in the process Sarah fell in love with him and now possesses the only remedy capable of healing his cataclysmic lesions.

Her tender loving care.

Unfortunately her father's dead and she really wanted him to heal her psychotic brother Luke (Cory Knauf) who as it turns out blames Charlie for his mother's death and proceeded to murder his family consequently.

Yup, Godspeed's examination of the dark side is pretty frickin' bleak. Its most redeeming quality is its almost total lack of positivity, a harmonious atmosphere as black as Satan's dreams on Christmas, unwavering and unrepentant, apart from one beautiful scene, made all the more radiant by the surrounding darkness, which situates itself on top of the mountain of shadows and patiently transmits its amorous message.

To the faithful.

Not really one to watch with your grandparents, unless they like hopeless bucolics within which everyone suffers and lunacy is given room to brazenly regurgitate its demented motivations, which could be the case.

Contagion

Wasn't that impressed with Steven Soderbergh's Contagion. It successfully manages several different plot threads and introduces a wide variety of characters, positioning them in various socio-political quadrants as they react to the spread of a devastating global plague, establishing friendships, watching as loved ones die, exploiting the situation for personal profit, falling victim to the ludicrous ambitions of a culture of desperation. It starts out well, getting right down to it, not spending much time investigating historical details while still encouraging interest within its accelerated format, disease, widespread contamination, diagnosis, containment. But as it unreels, it inconsistently delivers its subject matter, some scenes astutely demonstrating the talents of its superstar cast, others falling flat and causing you to wonder if Soderbergh ran out of time and didn't have the resources to encourage multiple takes. I suppose that if everything is 'normal,' or the world isn't distinctly suffering from the effects of a plague, and then the disease quickly spreads and disseminates chaos, it makes sense to have orderly and traditional opening scenes followed by poorly executed bourgeois hokum (the film itself is infected). This device can work exceptionally well if the director carefully crafts a seductive self-awareness. I didn't spot such self-awareness within Contagion, however. It seemed more like actors with established reputations running through the motions, as if they had taken Law and Order or CSI's format, tweaked it for the big screen, made a number of definitive, instantaneous, unalterable conclusions based upon a shallow degree of ready made research, waited for the content to easily slide into its manufactured mindsets, threw in something heroic yet disengaged, and gingerly cantered towards an incredible turn out at the box office. Some scenes and performances stand out and it was better than mediocre, but still, a very formulaic piece disguised as hip and innovative entertainment, quietly fading into the trivial.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

The Change-Up

The Change-Up introduces another comedy wherein a male friendship is composed of one person who is responsible (Jason Bateman as Dave Lockwood) and another who lives a carefree day-to-day lackadaisical freestyle (Ryan Reynolds as Mitch Planko). While Lockwood's mannerisms are prim and proper, Planko's are slapdash and inappropriate. While Lockwood tries to be a strong respectable family person, Planko smokes weed all day and is still interested in raw doggin' randoms.

And so on.

But their friendship endures nonetheless, the historical nature of their bond trumping and bringing together their disparate personalities.

In more ways than one.

As fate would have it, one evening they decide to urinate in a fountain at the same time while simultaneously stating that they wished they had the other's life, after which they wake up the next day having switched bodies, forced to live that other life that they had spontaneously stated they wished they had (while urinating).

The rest of the film's mildly amusing while Planko tries to bluff his way through a merger that Lockwood worked on tirelessly for months and Lockwood tries to star in a soft porn flick, etc. Maybe amusing's not the right word. There's a lot of shock comedy straight from the sewer that is relatively unexpected and difficult to watch. I found it more surprising than amusing although I was amused by the surprises.

Content switches form and is provided with a significant degree of freedom due to the historical nature of that form's condition, and, with a little coaching, manages to improve on its initial foundations after coming dangerously close to destroying them completely.

But like the old change-up pitch, you expect it to come in fast and furious and instead it slows down and fades.

Old idea scatologically revitalized oscillates from one extreme to the other before falling flat.

The Change-Up.

Alien vs. Ninja

There was a delay with the subtitles in the copy of Alien vs. Ninja I rented the other day, and the translation would appear on the screen 20 to 30 seconds after the sentence had been spoken, if it appeared at all. It didn't really matter too much however inasmuch as I could gather what was going on simply by watching (there are a group of ninjas, aliens arrive out of nowhere, they fight).

The film's a lot of fun, because, on the one hand, when the heroes stop to discuss things, it seems as if it's taking itself rather seriously, while, on the other, whenever battle or the comic relief is introduced, it's obvious that it is well aware of its ridiculous nature.

Excessively serious ridiculousness is a winning combination in my books, in the realm of kitschy film production, meaning Alien vs. Ninja worked for me.

It may not have worked if I had a better grasp of the linguistic momentum, but the exaggerations were striking without being overbearing, the ways in which director Seiji Chiba catered to his audience's tastes were appreciated, logic was appealed to and ignored depending on the improvisations of the design, aliens fighting ninjas equals good, potentially entertaining possibilities are ignored in favour of bizarre fluctuations, and classic sci-fi franchises such as Alien and Predator are unabashedly lampooned, while Chiba borrows heavily from their storylines nonetheless.

Perhaps Aliens and Ninjas fighting in a campy over-the-top romp with spur of the moment production values isn't for you, I really don't know, but if you're interested in a bit of lighthearted nauseating questionable roguishness, Alien vs. Ninja will cater to your needs, while causing you to recklessly twist and squirm.

Before or after basketball practice.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

The Help

Boldly displaying the ugly dimensions permeating a culture whose social fabric is thoroughly racist, Tate Taylor's The Help situates us in Jackson, Mississippi, and demonstrates how difficult it was for African Americans to either express their points of view or hope for a better life within.

Not to say that it's any easier now, Taylor just situates her narrative in the past in order to mitigate the shock of investigating current pervasive racist realities, thereby making her message easier to digest while enabling it to reach a broader audience.

This strategy works effectively for the aforementioned reason but it also ignores the fact that there are still systematic racist discourses influencing sundry public and private spheres whose destabilizing affects are as vicious as they are subtle. It's not a matter of thinking that things were like that 50 years ago and they're fine in the present, it's a matter of reexamining the present in order to discover the ways in which racist attitudes continue to disable so that 50 years from now our cultures will be all the more inclusive, and so on.

The film presents an aspiring writer, 'Skeeter' Phelan (Emma Stone), who finds the ways in which her African American compatriots are treated revolting, seeing how their wages are low, there is no possibility for advancement, they are treated like slaves, and have basically no means by which to defend themselves. She seeks to disseminate their voices in the form of a book which collects and transmits their stories. This is no easy task due to the legal ramifications of challenging Mississippi's segregated society, so said stories must be collected clandestinely, pseudonyms must be employed, specific geographic locations cannot be identified, and during the collection process appearances must be kept up as usual.

Two maids, Aibileen Clark (Viola Davis) and Minny Jackson (Octavia Spencer), agree to share their stories at great personal risk and as the Civil Rights Movement intensifies many of their friends sign-up as well. The book is released, it has an impact, there's a happy ending.

I found one aspect of the ending troubling, however, in regards to the ways in which Minny is offered full-time employment with the Footes (Jessica Chastain as Celia and Mike Vogel as Johnny). Internally, the ending works insofar as Minny's career had been threatened by a rumour spread by her former employer and she now no longer has to worry about putting food on the table. But she's offered full-time employment within the same set of circumstances within which she was previously employed, albeit with a much more enlightened couple. Obviously one book isn't going to magically uproot and transform decades of oppressive practices and suggesting that this had happened would have made The Help seem somewhat flippant. But if the Footes had made a stronger commitment to trying to redefine things so that Minny didn't have to work as a maid for the rest of her life, thereby suggesting that they were trying to open up a broader commercial space for her within which her talents could flourish, The Help would have packed a stronger progressive punch into its already sturdy, innovative, repertoire.

The stifling nature of being any married woman in a culture defined by strict patriarchal gender roles is intelligently illustrated as well.

30 Minutes or Less

Ruben Fleischer's 30 Minutes or Less is a well-crafted ridiculous summertime flick. Full of plenty of diversifying intertextuality, a father/son relationship to comedically rival that maintained between Braveheart's Longshanks and Prince Edward (enlivened by Fred Ward's machismo [the scene where he thinks it's funny that his son is trying to kill him is priceless]), a sharp examination of the concept of role-playing, witty banters exchanged between both pairs of struggling male duos, complete with different brands of particularized logistical clarifications concerning 'mature' and 'immature' approaches to life after 25, and a shoot out involving a flame thrower (brilliant), all wrapped up in an indirect salute to the puzzling benefits of living in a small town, it keeps the juvenile effervescence flowing abrasively and unapologetically, as it levitates towards its incandescent glass ceiling.

Anxiously highlighting the leveraged conditions of possibility, while playfully working within the master/slave dichotomy, the productive output of this individualized synthesis guarantees a destructive resolution.

Is this because Nick (Jesse Eisenberg) and Chet (Aziz Ansari) so eagerly and effectively became that which they had never considered they possibly would due to the imposition of tyrannical constraints, the force of the necessary malevolence which they are forced to distribute overcoming their previously established socially acclimatized psychologies due to the unforeseen consequences of concrete shock?

It's possible that this is what Fleischer means although the point is certainly up for debate. Other phenomenons such as sleeping with your best friend's sister and hiring trained killers are investigated as well.