<![CDATA[Modigliani Movie Inquiries - Movies Investigated]]>Thu, 23 May 2013 11:12:32 -0500Weebly<![CDATA[Weekly Movie Diary 6: The League of Gentlemen, Beast Wars 1x15-1x21, Star Trek Into Darkness]]>Tue, 21 May 2013 19:15:28 GMThttp://www.modigmovie.com/1/post/2013/05/weekly-movie-diary-6-star-trek-into-darkness.html

Modigliani:

Beast Wars: episodes 15 through 21
I can't begin to tell you how much this show amuses me.  The characters are just all so bored.  They mock each other.  They destroy one another.  Sometimes they try to kill each other, but often they don't bother.  There have been at least 3 times the Maximals could have killed all the Predacons.  And vice-versa.  

I like that they brought in Starscream for a bit.  The ant guy is ridiculous.  FOR THE COLONY!  So good.  

Rhinox is Eeyore.  

I'm interested in seeing how things escalate once the transmetals appear.  As ridiculous as individual episodes have been, there is a larger mystery going on with the random alien tech on the world.  This building up to the transmetals is cool to me.  But once the characters escalate, does the fun die?  Does the war get more serious?  What I love, too, is that this is followed up by Beast Machines.  I have no idea what people think of that show.  But I think it's cool there was that sort of status quo shift where the Maximals go from Earth back to Cybertron.  I just read a bunch of Amazon reviews of Machines and it seems it was just as good.  WAY DARKER.  There are comparisons to the Holocaust.  Whoa.  Machines also featured a full script, which meant it wasn't written episode by episode like Beast Wars.  Again, I give a ton of credit to narratives that break from what they have been doing, that have the courage to delve into new topics and explore in new ways.  That escalate.  

If I didn't know the transmetals were coming, I don't know how I'd feel so far.  I'm enjoying how things are going, the Tom & Jerry like back and forth.  But I'd wonder what else they could do.  Let me tell you though:  when I did find out about transmetals, I'd write 15,000 words about how cool they are.

I give this series some serious high marks.  Stupid, yes.  But great.  Dinobot is the ugliest good guy of all-time.  

Mortimer:

The League of Gentlemen:
A prime example of why heist/bank robbery films are generally...what's the word I'm looking for. Shitty? Yeah, shitty. I can't even back Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, let alone shite like The Italian Job. So many filmmakers want to create simply heist films with bland characters going through the motions, capturing what it's really like to rob a bank, man! I say: so what. You're not Michael Manne or Kathryn Bigelow, and you're not giving me anything interesting.

You may not realize it at first glance, since the film is so pulpy and light, but this is definitely a dark comedy due to the fact that the bank robbers are former military men attempting to reintegrate into society, and unable to do so. They're bored with the everyday mundaneness of life, their wife and families, and their professions. And the war has, essentially, made criminals out of all of them, representing the only thrill in their otherwise pedestrian lives. 

Step in Hyde, who offers them all an opportunity to steal one million pounds from a bank. Race makes a joke about Jekyll & Hyde, which Hyde brushes aside, but let's not kid ourselves: auteur British director Basil Dearden recognizes this dark meta moment. These men have entered war honorably as Jekyll and come out as Hyde--a persona that's resulted from being heralded in the highest of honors to absolute reproach. Despite the "gentlemanly" nature of these former soldiers, they are, through and through, society's afterthoughts, living in (as Criterion's Michael Koresky puts it) "various states of disrepute." They crave the former masculine environment that fuels their collective nostalgia, thus they band together in a home and prepare for the robbery.

My tiniest complaint is how Dearden brings the intrinsic military psychology to the forefront during the final moments, where Hyde's military superior enters the film and drunkenly adds some forced tension. If they were stretch the psychological aspects of the film into a larger metaphor, I think it was a little to late. The final moment features him, after all, drunkenly unaware of his inferior's wrongdoings, as if to point out his detached role during employment. It's either a misguided, too-little-too-late metaphor, or needlessly slapsticky.

But even with that misstep in mind, this is definitely an all-time great heist film that undoubtedly went on to influence many others. This was my first Dearden film, so I'm excited to see what else he's done.

Star Trek Into Darkness:
...................*sigh*.

Look, I'm known for defending J.J. Abrams in the past. Hell, I've even backed up Damon Lindelof. I think many people's stance on their blasé approach to props and storytelling details has been a bit overblown and misunderstood. But it is seriously beyond me how anybody could defend this absolute piece of shit film. As a logical film it is, of course, riddled with fallacies (I'm sure Modigliani will touch on that soon), but the narrative itself has got to be one of the most half-assed moments in recent Hollywood memory.

Yes: lazier than Transformers, lazier than Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance, and much lazier than (I can't believe I'm saying it) fucking Argo. Lazier than Dreamworks' latest pandering film. Lazier than James Cameron's ideas for Avatar 2 and 3

Wanna know why Star Trek Into Darkness is blatantly lazier than those films? Because those films actually have a COHERENT STORY. What the fuck is going on in this movie? Why does it feel like six episodes of Star Trek balled up into one? Why do the stakes change seven different times? Who is the bad guy? What are any of these characters' motivations? Why does Damon Lindelof still have a job in Hollywood?

So first thing: the stakes. Shouldn't a film set a clear trajectory? Or rather: isn't this shit Film 101? The first honest-to-God dilemma that's actually pertinent to the overall story doesn't happen until...I'm gonna say over halfway through the movie. The writers pull this Dark Knight (also recently aped by both The Avengers and Skyfall) move where their villain is trapped in a glass box...but in Star Trek, it's the first time we learn of any sort of motivation on Khan's part. There's no Joker pencil-in-the-eye introduction, no understanding of how it's some sort of character parallel to Kirk--all we know is it makes Kirk really really mad and motivated. Kirk loved his mentor, and he wants to find this dude. Already, this is pretty uninteresting and one-note without the antagonist doing anything more than firing a few bullets.

And this is immediately trumped by Marcus' intentions...for what reason? God forbid this movie bask in Khan's presence, which is meant to reflect Kirk's rage-driven motivation in coping with his mentor's death. Kirk is battling Marcus just to save his own ass, and it seriously has no psychological burden to the situation at hand. It just sort of happens, because movies can do that and hey we just don't have enough explosions in this film. And if we're really deciphering this bit, the ONLY reason ANY of this happens from a character standpoint is to give Carol any bit of meaning outside of stripping down to her unmentionables. So knowing all of this shit happens before we finally shift back to Khan and get back to the relationship the writers set up at the BEGINNING  OF THE FILM (Kirk and Spock), Khan's terrorist attacks have been nothing more than plot fodder...

...because the real point of the attack was to grant Kirk control of the ship. NO NO, not Khan's point--the writer's point. But why would they have to force that situation? Because they wrote this needlessly lengthy section at the beginning of the movie (I'll be generous and say this undeniably pointless opening is about 25 minutes of the film) where Kirk disobey's protocol and loses his ship. Why does any of this happen? Is it pertinent to what happens in the other half of the film (which itself has three different parts)? Nope. It's just another forced moment of exposition where his love for Admiral Pike is supposed to be his driving motivation--a relationship that's just sort of hinted at, but pretty dependent on every-fucking-thing that happened in the first film. I'm sure their relationship is strong enough to be Kirk's driving motivation in capturing Khan, but the narrative itself does not allow for any sort of strong foundation.

The POINT of the opening SHOULD BE to establish Kirk and Spock's friendship. Gee, you think they could have used those first 25 minutes actually building their bond instead of filtering it with useless political banter? And the writers do that thing where the viewer is expected to just understand everything between these two before the movie starts, forcing these faux emotional moments where Spock throws up his arms and accepts his death, or when Kirk must decide ultimately to save him. And this lack of character exposition is OK...if you're going to follow up! You can't just leave their feudal friendship at that! AND THEN BRING IT BACK IN THE FINAL MOMENTS TO PROVE THEIR LOVE FOR EACH OTHER!!!!

The film is just riddled with a lazy narrative, which seriously makes the character outlines even lazier. Why is Carol on that ship? Does she know what her father is going to do? Do she and Kirk really have a future? Is it worth focusing her in the foreground and blurring everyone else out when Kirk gives his speech? Wasn't the film trying to build Kirk and Spock's relationship? And why does Spock wait to tell Uhura about his oh-so conflicting emotions until they're on a ship with Kirk? Is there any relationship in this film that has a bit of weight to it? Can any bit of exposition exist without forcibly inserting it into the non-stop barreling nature of this film?

I don't know how much further I can go. My own structure and complaints are just as problematic and various as this damn film, and if I keep typing, I'll soon be complaining about how J.J. Abrams cannot edit an action scene to save his life, or about how the stakes change at least five times during the final thirty minutes, or about how Scotty is able to get to Jupiter so goddamn quick.

This movie is so absurd that I wish it had just pulled out the camp card (something Spider-Man 3 should have just done) and embraced the ridiculousness. That would have made Kirk and Spock's Vulcan-salute-through-glass moment more hilarious and less eye-rollingly forced and empty (although it was indeed hilarious). But then that probably would have forced Abrams and Co. to not take themselves so goddamn seriously, which, after securing the helm to Star Wars, seems impossible.
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<![CDATA[Modigliani:  Inquiry 152:  Critics on Tobey Maguire's performance in "The Great Gatsby"]]>Thu, 16 May 2013 03:17:26 GMThttp://www.modigmovie.com/1/post/2013/05/modigliani-inquiry-152-critics-on-tobey-maguires-performance-in-the-great-gatsby.html
"McGuire is profoundly forgettable as Nick, his existential trauma indiscernible from adolescent ennui."

-Christopher Orr, The Atlantic
"As Nick, Tobey Maguire has the same dazed-ingenue affect in both his drunken-past and sober-present incarnations..." 

-David Edelstein, The Vulture
“Tobey is a jerk off,” Dan said of the actor Maguire, who is being sued for Ruderman’s losing hand to him, totaling $311,300...."He’s cheap as f**k and plays like a cheap b*tch… a guy who’s worth all that money playing as if he’s broke. Come on, dude.”

-Dan Blezarian, quoted in an article by Dylan Howard of RadarOnline.com
"Mr. Maguire's Nick is cheerlessly impressionable."

-Joel Morgenstern, The Wall Street Journal
"The book saw no need to remind readers that we were being told a tale, yet Maguire consistently interrupts a film in which he is easily the least distinctive part."

-William Gross, Film.com
"...but Tobey Maguire is too ingratiating to play Nick Carraway"

-J.R. Jones, Chicago Reader
"He would not.  Stop.  Talking.  It hurt my ears."

-dog from down the street
 Tobey Maguire is his usual recessive presence, barely registering as either a dynamic part of the events he describes or their watchful witness.

-Ann Hornaday, Washington Post
Maguire, who does have the wry observational skills needed for Nick’s Midwestern decency, is directed toward a wide-eyed, one-note performance.

-Elizabeth Weitzman, New York Daily News
But over-length, a swooningly indulged love story, and a fatuous Tobey Maguire as Nick Carraway bring [The Great Gatsby] low.

-Ty Burr, The Boston Globe
Maguire drifts through his performance with the vacant smile of a forgettable lad sitting for his high school portrait.

-Colin Covert, Minneapolis Star Tribune
Luhrmann would have been better served with Pee-wee as his Yale grad and World War I vet, ensconced in a carriage house on the grounds of Jay Gatsby's lavish Long Island estate. Pee-wee certainly would have brought more heft to the role than Maguire does...
...
But her Daisy is skin-deep. And Maguire's performance is callow and shallow.

-Steven Rea, Philadelphia Inquirer
Maguire is serviceable, but bland.

-Claudia Puig, USA Today
I used to love this book.  But after listening to Tobey read so much of it, the book is ruined.  I hate it now.

-F. Scott Fitzgerald, author of The Great Gatsby
The film looks as stiff and lifeless as a posh store window. Luhrmann and co-writer Craig Pearce take risks by conceiving Nick as an alcoholic writing the novel in an asylum. That made me crazy. But not as much as hearing Maguire narrate a scene and then speak it as dialogue...

-Peter Tavers, Rolling Stone

 ...and Tobey Maguire remains pale and goggle-eyed as our narrator, Nick.

-Stephen Witty, Newark Star-Ledger
Tobey Maguire was badly miscast as Nick Carraway

-aphroditebloise, Nytimes.com commenter
Oh, by the way.  When [Tobey Maguire and Kristin Dunst are] in the park and he's created a spider-web for them to lay in.  And this is supposed to be THEY ARE IN LOVE.  They have the chemistry of like....two sacks of wet dog shit.

-Jason Mantzoukas, How Did This Movie Get Made, discussing Spider-Man 3
I read the "Official Gatsby" thread on Reddit.  A majority of people on there praised Tobey Maguire's performance.  As far as I'm concerned, Reddit no longer exists.

-Bill Murray, actor
...Nick Carraway (an unpersuasive Tobey Maguire).

Kenneth Turan, Los Angeles Times
Maguire's slightly aging boyishness has become tiresome by the film's second half...

-Todd McCarthy, Hollywood Reporter
Worse still, he is no longer the centerpiece of the story, a task that falls into the incapable hands of the incompetent, miscast Tobey Maguire as Jay Gatsby’s friend, neighbor and all-seeing matchmaker and Daisy’s cousin, Nick Carraway. He might suffice as a callow Spider-Man, but as the film’s narrator, saying campy things like “They were careless, Tom and Daisy … they smash people and then retreat back into their vast world of money and carelessness …” Even with these masterful lines from the book, he just sounds like he’s reading from a college yearbook. Mr. Maguire is supposed to be the camera through which the tragedy unfolds, but he is light years away from possessing the range, craftsmanship and experience required to play a Fitzgerald hero.

-Rex Reed, New York Observer
Fuck Spider-Man 3.  It's the worst movie ever and I will never forgive anyone involved.  


Inquiry Closed

MODIGLIANI
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<![CDATA[Mortimer Granville: Inquiry 4: "The ABCs of Death": A giant limerick for a giant gimmick]]>Tue, 14 May 2013 19:42:10 GMThttp://www.modigmovie.com/1/post/2013/05/mortimer-granville-inquiry-4-the-abcs-of-death-a-giant-limerick-for-a-giant-gimmick.html
I watched V/H/S and thought it was pretty good. Then I notice this little project called The ABCs of Death—this time, instead of five films, Magnet is packing 26 horror films into a monstrous compilation. I also see that V/H/S2 is on the horizon. 

*Sigh*

I've already grown tired of the pack-as-much-of-the-latest-horror-talent-into-one-film gimmick, and I've only watched two of these films. So instead of dissecting each film individually, I've decided to put as much effort into my analysis as Magnet puts into these gimmicks...by creating a gimmick of my own. 

Limerick style.


The Players:
The 27(!) directors: Kaare Andrews, Angela Bettis, Adrián García Bogliano, Bruno Forzani, Hélène Cattet, Ernesto Díaz Espinoza, Jason Eisener, Xavier Gens, Jorge Michel Grau, Lee Hardcastle, Noboru Iguchi, Thomas Cappelen Malling, Anders Morgenthaler, Yoshihiro Nishimura, Banjong Pisanthanakun, Simon Rumley, Marcel Sarmiento, Jon Schnepp, Srdjan Spasojevic, Timo Tjahjanto, Andrew Traucki, Nacho Vigalondo, Jake West, Ti West, Ben Wheatley, Adam Wingard, Yudai Yamaguchi
People who are tortured/overdose on heroin/eaten by toilets/die by farts: Christ, just check out IMDB


What It's Good For:
-a fun movie night movie
-a somewhat neat package for today's best horror talent
-26 different ways to die
-giving hope to some that horror hasn't died yet


Potential Pitfalls:
-the gimmick overshadows what makes horror so great
-unfocused themes, unlike V/H/S
-a somewhat neat package for today's most mediocre horror talent
-maybe you don't want to watch 26 exciting ways people can die
-you don't like animated toilets killing people
-animal cruelty


My Assessment/Limerick:
All because of horror's decrepit state
And because it receives such irrational hate
Here we go again
A horror compilation
Dissecting a genre Magnet wishes to collate

Because horror is synonymous with gimmickry
And most directors' vision involves mimicry
They pull the gimmick lever
Forcing ideas that aren't clever
Recycling tired tropes like a dizzying Grand Prix

Cue the mobs, the pitchforks, the masses
The cries, the moans, unleash the tear gases
We all call it lame
They expect acclaim
A back-and-forth as interesting as dripping molasses

Drudging through each letter of the alphabet
Because a genre director's palate must be kept whet
It's easy to dismiss
Jerking off such as this
As interesting as the history of tagamet

Even though the hate in this case is justified
And some films make me wish long ago the genre died
These gatherings of death
Own a more humane breadth
Than we allow ourselves to believe is supplied

For while V/H/S sort of performed the same trick
Disguising its intentions with an eye-rolling schtick
Each film warrants more thought
Than the vitriol they've got
From "reviews" that own the charisma of a limp dick

Glenn McQuaid's portion was a glorious example
Of the theme V/H/S attempted to sample
Found footage is dismissed
"As useful as a cyst"
Despite the hip genre's insightful thoughts being ample

Hence Tuesday the 17th was part of an anthology
That captured our shared addiction to technology
Post-traumatic stress
Allows the film to express
The heart of the found footage genre's psychology

If the camera is a vessel through which we depict
The psychological pain we often self-inflict
Found footage's potential
Soon becomes essential
In displaying the unsophisticated life of a YouTube addict

Just because a film's subjects and themes are superficial
Doesn't suddenly make its intentions artificial
So what do we make
Of Magnet's latest take
On a genre that rarely lives up to its full potential?

Knowing very well that its elements are clichéd
Embracing those tropes allows innate fear to be displayed
Terror always hides
And familiarly resides
Whether through phones, toilets, or gluttony—true horror is homemade

Let's say there's indeed a familiar connection
Much like V/H/S's technological confection
Fear's roots must be persistant
In remaining consistent
In order to create an even, well-rounded complexion

Miscarriage's intentions aren't exactly grandeur
But once again Ti West finds fear in the obscure
A woman on the verge
An itching need to purge
The unidentifiable creature within

Noboru Iguchi displays horror's comedic heart
Even if it means coming in the form of a Fart
Trivial traits we grasp
Never releasing the clasp
On empty infatuation doomed from the start

Or Libido's apt attention to what's truly gory
Which stems from what is truly masturbatory
Our thirst for bloody death
Like addiction to meth
We mutely desire these people to become quarry

Perhaps from these three glimpses into the genre's state
Criticizing horror may be the best way to collate
For 27 directors
There are few vectors
That can connect this idea and lend the commentary some weight

Quack's attempt to be meta is admirable
But at best the execution is fallible
Less fun than WTF
Despite owning a duck
Jon Schneep diffuses horror with an ending that's affable

Remember when Robert Rodriguez made hellish highways fun?
And how Speed milked his clichés until the clever wheels spun?
Black leather is hot
Poignant this is not
Pronouncing drug addiction with a cut that's only meant to stun

Simon Rumley's Pressure puts both of these films to shame
Where affecting horror isn't lost in an effort to maim
We are not smitten
By the squish of a kitten
It will assuredly be met with vitriol meant to defame

Taken out of context this act may seem disgraceful
But to the horror genre this segment is most faithful
The kitten a symbol
Serving as tragic kindel
The lengths a mother goes for her children are often painful

Unearthed was a clever use of first-person view
But it also displays what V/H/S was able to do
An inherit bind
All of which confined
To a single form that allowed it themes to break through

Viewing Pressure and Unearthed together—what can we say?
Where do they connect? What themes do their separate forms relay?
Both Toilet and Klutz
Show animated guts
But toilet terror can't simply be connected as child's play

Where does that leave Fart and Libido's collective intention?
To criticize and call horror's gimmickry into question?
Like Ingrown's fake empathy?
Or Bigfoot's misogyny?
These genre comments become ironic in their deception

XXL's vision is both arresting and beautiful
But the heart is lost in such gimmickry and mutable
Drowned out by crap
That goes *fap fap fap*
26 shorts attract attention—business as usual

*Yawwwwwn* I go as Magnet announces V/H/S2
All the while searching for old ideas to burn through
Perhaps Death to Shakespeare?
Or Paris doit mourir?
Do you think these guys will ever attempt something new?

Zippity-do-da! Just look at this time-wasting thread!
Do you realize what I did? Do know what you just read?
A giant limerick
For a giant gimmick
And not once did I need to transition with the color red


Did I Like It:
Nah. I thought V/H/S was severely misinterpreted by the many who saw it. Sure, it went horribly awry with most of its feminist intentions, but I thought Ti West did a fantastic job (as usual). I've found that many disagree with me on that, so if you really want to start that debate (I've had it about a half dozen times now), hit me up in the comments section.

Anyway, V/H/S handled the found footage concept really well, to the point where the camera itself became an existential form of expressing fear (seriously: especially in Ti West's segment). The ABCs of Death doesn't have much of a focus, other than the everyday surroundings bringing about our inner-most fears. But even that's a stretch in attempting to reward Magnet's latest gimmick—after all, you could say that about most (or all) horror movies. 

I've also found that people really really really hated the Pressure segment. I understand animal cruelty is a big NO-NO for many moviegoers, and I don't feel the need to argue about it whether or not it's OK to even hint at animal abuse. Just like any human death, an animal death can be earned, and I thought it was incredibly poignant in the Pressure segment. So if you want to actually debate on whether or not it was necessary (please don't preach at me--nobody condones animal torture), find me down below.

I don't think these movies need to keep being made. I understand why they exist—many consider horror to be a dead genre (for good reasons), thus horror filmmakers and fans alike feel a sense of camaraderie with these projects. Sort of like, "Yeah, we're still here, and we're still making shit you won't like." Which is awesome, because there's some great talent on display here. And if these movies help somebody land a big movie deal, that's pretty awesome. But if we really want horror movies to improve as opposed to merely being noticed, I think gimmicks aren't exactly the best path to choose.

INQUIRY CLOSED

MORTIMER GRANVILLE
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<![CDATA[Weekly Viewing Diary 5:  Beast Wars 1x1-1x14, Step Up Revolution, Birdemic, The Vicious Kind, The Roost, Stripes, Under Siege, The Goonies, Aziz Ansari Dangerously Delicious, Community Season 4, Band of Outsiders, Robocop, Game of Thrones 1x4 1x5 1x6 1x]]>Mon, 13 May 2013 21:49:56 GMThttp://www.modigmovie.com/1/post/2013/05/weekly-viewing-diary-5-robocop-game-of-thrones-1x4-1x5-1x6-1x7.html

Mortimer

Birdemic:
For me, pretty much all time spent at work these days consists of listening to the How Did This Get Made? podcast, and they were really selling the Hitchcock-inspired environmental disaster film Birdemic, which, they said, rivaled The Room in its sheer badness.

To say you need to have an open mind going into Birdemic is an understatement. You need to be out of your mind. You need to be annihilated. Booze, drugs, fever dream--whatever. If you're against putting harmful drugs into your body, do not watch this film, because it may drive you to drink heavily. It's absolutely awful and ludicrous in ways The Room often is, except director James Nguyen has sci-fi intentions. 

First of all: I looooove The Room. It is easily the funnest film I've ever seen in a theater. I laugh, I cry, I toss the pigskin. I've learned when to start throwing the spoons. My blowjob face improved so much after watching this film. And I've learned that having sex on a staircase is wildly uncomfortable. I mean, I could sit here all afternoon and list the life lessons Tommy Wiseau has taught me. But as horrible and misogynistic as this movie can be, I find it sincere, which I feel like translates to how entertaining it truly is.

Birdemic is definitely sincere--I fully believe Nguyen wants to save the world with this film. From interviews I've read, he did not approach this film as a comedy. And for the first 45 minutes, Birdemic actually is every bit as hilarious as The Room...until the birds start attacking.

You read that right. The birds do not start attacking until 45 minutes into this film. That realization alone is hilarious. As Jason Mantzoukas, there's definitely a very strong "rapey vibe" with this movie, and watching Rod stalk Nathalie is face-palm inducing. They have zero chemistry, from their awkward shuffling in the green-screened disco to their no-tongue kissing policy, it is truly a delight to witness these two on screen together.

I'll admit: the moment the birds show up? Hysterical, for both the shoddy graphic work and its abruptness. But as the film settled into a survival tale, all of the hilarious interactions ceased. Believe it or not, I actually do care about these people, and I really enjoyed watching them together. But, honestly, the movie just becomes boring during the killing sequences. It essentially becomes about nothing (despite his societal attacks ("I WANT A HAPPY MEAL!")), and it really lost me.

Although, the escalation of bird deaths was incredible. They're kamikaze dive-bombers, then eye-gougers, then their wings become blades, and then finally they spit acid. 

AND THEN THEY LEAVE? WHERE ARE THEY GOING?!?!?!?

It's a lot of fun, but I'm sorry, no. The Room gets three stars. Birdemic gets one star.


The Roost:
Vampire bats and Ti West? Yeah, I'll take that.

It's a very amateurish horror film that's amateurish in the best possible ways. West is pretty experimental with his shot selection, cutting to black and white images and photos during death scenes (or, really, whenever he feels like it) and employing a Funny Games-esque second-chance moment. He sticks mostly to the mid-section shots and really lays on the horror, much more so than The Innkeepers or The House of the Devil. Frames are tight, although he opts for a few Hitchcock throwbacks (interestingly enough, West filmed in the same barn used in Marnie), with long shots riddled with shadows and whatnot.

It's been interesting to watch Ti West's transformation. For me, it happened in reverse. The Innkeepers, his latest film, is incredibly disciplined. The Roost is off the hinges at times. The low-to-high moments are jarring and abrupt, from super-low to RIDICULOUSLY HIGH. I hate when orchestration dominates and controls the "scare", but it was really working for me in this movie. Even the small moments where a bat would fly by the screen and there'd be a split second of strings--awesome. I say really go for it if want to be that over-the-top. 

Transition to The House of the Devil, and the low-to-high moments are gone. Devil is pure angst throughout, with Samantha dancing around the house and ordering pizza. There's a looming sense of evil the whole time (it is called The House of the Devil, after all), but West lures you into a state of comfortability before erupting into a moment of crazy high, and then remaining there for the final fourth of the film.

So West goes from intermittently being low-high, to splitting his entire film between low and high, to The Innkeepers, which hints at high the entire time, but rarely delivers. The "highs" in the The Innkeepers almost aren't highs at all, and more of spine-tingling moments that foreshadow Claire's demise. The Roost is a great distraction and well-made, but it doesn't even come close to having the personality and maturity The Innkeepers owns. I feel like The House of the Devil was his step in that direction, and the fact that he's been able to find his niche this early in his career is awesome.

I will continue to defend his short in V/H/S. Seriously, I'll fight you over it...or at least engage in a well-mannered debate in the comments section. 



Stripes:

OK. Bill Murray is amazing. And believe it or not, I only just realized it. One of my dirty little secrets is that I've never seen Ghostbusters, but up until a few months ago, it was Groundhog Day. That, right there, should have won Bill Murray an Oscar. His range from asshole to suicidal to romancer to changed man is incredible. And most of this is due to the fantastic writing and attention to surroundings. The environment and the fantastical event actually build on one another and in turn shape Phil.

Harold Ramis wrote and directed Groundhog Day, and I thought I have discovered a new genius after watching it. He's miles better than Stripes director Ivan Reitman (who went on to direct Junior), but looking at his filmography...dear god, he's got to be one of the most hit-and-miss filmmakers I can think of. He find some great work in the middle of his career, but it ends with strangely mediocre/ludicrous films like Analyze This and Year One, and starts with extremely problematic cult hits like Caddyshack, Animal House, and...ugh, Stripes.

I'm sorry, but if you're a Bill Murray fan, you should be actively attempting to disown this movie from his career. The moments he's actually able to be funny are the result of his comedic timing and physical humor. Otherwise, he's annoying because he's an asshole for the sake of being an asshole. In Groundhog Day, he's an asshole and it sets up his character trajectory. He'll be able to change as a caring individual, yet never cease being an asshole. In Stripes he's an asshole because, ha, it's funny, and look, when he's an asshole, he does asshole-ish things. None of the film's random excursions really build on him as a character, and its just separated scenes where Murray can phone in a lazy version of Phil from Groundhog Day.

Also, what is the motivation to join the Army? Because he was bored, basically. "I'm so lost in life!" is not a good reason. And we only get one shot of Russell sort of not caring about his job before signing up for the Army as well? This is some seriously lazy writing. And it actively contribute to character trajectory problem. If we want John to be more than just an asshole for 106 minutes (good god it felt longer than that), there needs to be some sort of driving motivation to be better. It exists in contrived moments in this film, as opposed to being built day-by-day (literally) in Groundhog Day. In Stripes, he's punched in the gut by the sergeant, then salvaging his good name after being blown off a tower, then leading the team in their drill performance, to finally rescuing his team. He does none of these things out of any sort of character growth or cultivated appreciation for the Army. In fact, he remains quite apathetic and holier-than-thou towards the Army's stringent worldview throughout. He does all of these things simply because it's there, and thus he must respond. Not exactly interesting, if you ask me.

Oh, and the Army's big secret weapon, the EM-50, is a fucking VW Van with guns? So...basically it's a less effective version of a tank? I know it's supposed to be dumb, but so much emphasis is placed on this damn thing, couldn't they come up with something better? Although I think it's hilarious that a tank actually starts to chase the EM-50 and does absolutely nothing.


Under Siege:
I saw this movie. It had Steven Seagal. He kicked and shot people. He wears a funny lopsided chef's hat. Also, he made a bomb in a coffee cup.

No, but seriously, this wasn't bad. I've heard it's Seagal's best film. That's not saying a whole lot, but from what I've seen of his work, it might just be, but this movie didn't have the DMX-factor that made Exit Wounds so goddamn entertaining. The best compliment to give Under Siege is that it's a competent action-thriller. It paces well, has a bunch of ludicrous one-liners, it's horribly misogynistic, yada yada. But it's never over-the-top enough to gain the "watchability" tag in my book. Pretty by-the-numbers. Jesus, Seagal really just gives me nothing to talk about.

A few things, though:

1. Does anyone else think Seagal's food looked completely unappetizing? That soup looked like 97% broth that had the hue of a runny shit.

2. Gary Busey is a CRAZY person. We all know that. But the way this movie establishes that is incredible. Like, in Black Sheep, he just starts out bat-shit insane and remains that way. In Under Siege, he's a hard-nosed commander who's a stickler for proper dress codes...and then he's in women's clothing? With those giant breasts?! I nearly lost my shit when that happened. I thought it was sorta genius to go from the blasé low to the INCREDIBLY LUDICROUS HIGH without warning. 

3. Tommy Lee Jones is also a CRAZY person. But in a way I'm not used to? I love Jones. He's better in this than fucking Lincoln

4. The scene where the kid is guarding Seagal's meat freezer prison is pretty hilarious. He basically pulls the age-old kindergarten trick of "I can't hear yooooou!" as Seagal tries to reason with him. And oh yeah, you wouldn't know the difference between gunfire and firecrackers? I want a shadow movie of this side character and how the fuck he came to be in the Navy. I think it could be some sort of comedy where Gary Busey gives him the task of watching a bunch of prison inmates and they fool around with him like Dennis the Menace or something. And maybe it would explain why Gary Busey hated his boss so much.

5. How is Busey not suspicious of Seagal's past after Seagal takes out about five of his men and breaks one of their arms (I think)? He claims he knows nothing of Seagal's past, but this seemed like a pretty big glimpse that he's more than a chef, especially considering he can't cook pies without burning them.

6. There just had to be tits, didn't there?

7. If this was made six years later, DMX could've made a cameo. That is, in fact, my biggest complaint.


Community: Season 4:
I'm pretty glad I don't have to review television shows for a living. Part of me loathes the ever-uninteresting Todd VanDerWerff for granting the final episode of Community's fourth season a "D" rating, but I might also start to hate an obviously adulterated show more than I should if I have to analyze it (if we can even use that term for Mr. VanWerDorf) week in and week out.

"Advanced Introduction To Finality" isn't a great episode, but I have a hard time buying such a low letter grade when literally no episode before season 4 received anything lower than a C+ (which I think only happened once). Dan Harmon could very well be a comedic genius, but he wasn't immune from churning out a stinker once in a while.

His greatest contribution to the show has lived on and benefitted the writers in his absence: much like we can observe when watching shows like The Simpsons or Parks and Recreation, Harmon understood the difference between creating colorful characters and creating people. And, in all honesty, I didn't realize how far deep this strength ran until the recent episodes. 

There used to be a sadness to the Dean's dress-up charades. A desire to be somebody he's not in order to live up to Jeff's standards. But in season 4, he sorta just became a super-gay Pepé Le Pew, dressing up in nurse's outfits not because it spoke of his character, but instead because it looked funny and sorta related to the plot. Even smaller moments caught my attention, such as when they marked the origin of Magnitude's "Pop Pop" phrase during an empty moment of balloon-popping catharsis that doesn't really say anything about him as a person, but instead winks at the audience and pretends to reward us for sticking around for so long. Before this moment, I was able to enjoy Magnitude's presence because he was full of life--now I feel like I'm being forced to accept my precious status of one of the show's few loyal followers.

But even though the writing has suffered on the character front (I believe Pierce actually devolved in season 4), the plot devices and spoofs (the show's selling point) have been only slightly less hit-and-miss than season 3. The strength of any spoof is improving characters while remaining beholden to the given genre's rules. It's what makes "Basic Human Anatomy" shine in an otherwise lukewarm season, as Troy's continual attachment to Abed's fantasy world reflects his inability to grow up and become a proper life partner for Britta. There's a tonal balance to be found between the extremeness of body-switching and a heartfelt breakup, and Troy's confession marks one of the high moments of the entire series.

Well, apparently not for Toddy Vankermall, who ranks "Basic Human Anatomy" significantly lower than an episode like "Pillows and Blankets", which relies on a shaky foundation (a brief, single-issue tiff between Troy and Abed) and various genre tropes to mill excitement. The payoff to "Pillows and Blankets" is super weak and a tired resolution for Community, not even touching season 4's best episode. "Basic Human Anatomy" is also miles ahead of another high-concept driven episode called "Paradigms of Human Memory", which is, in my opinion, the epitome of why the show is adored by many due to pandering (Jeff's speech-giving tendencies are only exploited, not built upon) and lightly brushing various tropes onto a canvas. Yet, it is considered one of the show's greatest episodes.

Anyway, if I had to grade season 4 (which I hate doing), I'd only rank it slightly below season 3. It is, obviously, nowhere near the heights season 2 reached, but then again, I feel like Harmon backed way off after such a high number of concept episodes in season 2. Harmon also began to settle into serialization (as most shows do after a few seasons), which has obviously carried into season 4. After this inevitability, shows need to deliver on plots that allow character growth. In this respect, I don't see how somebody can both laud season 3 and loathe season 4. 

Band of Outsiders:
I find it sort of hilarious when people get so pissed off upon hearing the name "Jean Luc-Godard." Like how people hate Michael Haneke for despising his audience (which he TOTALLY does, by the way (seriously, he hates you)), viewers often feel insulted by the French New Wave's most polarizing director. It probably doesn't help when he's being a complete douche after his first successful film:

"I feel like I love cinema less than I did a year ago, simply because I made a popular film. I hope that people hate my second film so that I can enjoy making movies again. Audiences trust me now. I hope I disappoint them so they don't trust me anymore."

And for a director who often required audience participation for the sake of his films, such as our collective knowledge of love of musicals for A Woman is a Woman, his choice words seemed more driven towards creating controversy than creating conversation. 

But I honestly don't care if Haneke thinks I relish in watching pain and misery on the screen, and I don't care Godard is such a buffoon. He can criticize western values all he wants in Film Socialisme--I'm more concerned with the striking images on the screen and what he's attempting to convey. If it's directly attacking any core set of beliefs or values I hold, I'm much more concerned if he does it convincingly than if he's doing it at all. I've always thought myself to have a rather large ego, but Godard haters are proving otherwise.

So with that in mind, I'm honestly disappointed with Band of Outsiders. It at once captures many dissenter's opinions and my personal fear of his work: it fails to deliver on the ideological front due to superfluous writing and filmmaking techniques, and thus it leaves little more than the inflated ego of a man desperately trying to convey a multitude of ideas through three sorry individuals.

Past vs. Present; Man vs. Woman; Man vs. Man; Greed vs. Love; Love vs. Sex. Hell, I might as well have summed up all triangle love stories right there. But Godard knows of all the inevitable attachments that come with relationships, often dictated by peers and surroundings. Breathless was an incredible display of suppression and constriction upon a man, and it correlated with his romantic relationship. Thus, all of Godard's revolutionary filmmaking techniques coincide with this aggravated mindset. Band of Outsiders seems lost between its intentions as an ideological film and an innovative one, as it's full of life and wonder, yet plagued by misdirection. In turn, the heist scene becomes this sick moment of exploitation that doesn't suit Godard very well, settling for visceral as opposed to meaningful. It pained me to watch Michel get shot at the end of Breathless. I just felt flat-out uncomfortable at the end of Band of Outsiders.

Modigliani

Beast Wars:  Season 1, episodes 1-14:
This show is hilarious.  I remember watching it before school all the time.  I thought the graphics were amazing and the action cool.  Had noooooooooooooooo idea it was this funny though.  

For example.  Megatron says "yes" all the time.  Or "no".  Like..."This is a great plan, yes, a great plan indeed."  Or.  "This isn't good, no, not good." At one point, Optimus is talking about tricking Megatron and he goes "I think this will work out well, yes."  AND LOOKS RIGHT AT THE CAMERA.  So B-movie.  So stupid.  So funny.  

The best part is when you understand what this show is.  It's Gilligan's Island.  Except Transformers-style.  So you have to have "good guys" and "bad guys".  But none of the characters are taking this too seriously.  They talk like they are.  If you watch them:  they aren't.  They could have killed each other 100 times over in just the first 14 episodes.  They don't want to.  Why?  Because they're all stuck!!!  None of them can leave.  What happens if the Maximals killed all the Predacons?  Or the Predacons killed all the Maximals?  What would there be left to do?  I see it as a bunch of brothers and sisters fighting.  Or Batman and The Joker.  Joker would never kill Batman.  And Batman would never kill Joker.  

I know the show ramps up and gets into Transmetals.  I don't know if the plots get more serious?  Bolder?  Darker?  We'll see.  

So far though...this is one of the best adaptations of Transformers ever. The Michael Bay movies ruin Optimus.  He's too fucking preachy.  I don't remember the G1 cartoon since I was 1-4 when it was on.  I do remember the original 1986 movie.  And Optimus is cool in that.  He isn't going on about "All Sentient Life etc. etc. etc."  He's not preaching constantly.  Bay has rendered him more of a powerful 50 year old grandfather than a warrior in his prime and with high ideals.  I wouldn't write Optimus like they have.  Same with the IDW comic series.  I don't think they capture how cool Optimus is.  They, again, have him straddling the line of pedantic and whiney.  It isn't what he says that makes us respect him.  Having him speak grandiloquent about life and peace and decency is annoying and hollow.  Showing him defending life and peace and decency:  that's where and how he gains cool points and respect points.  Beast Wars Optimus does this.  He is the best player on his team, which always goes a long way.  And he's the smartest.  We says good things sometimes.  AND HE HAS A PERSONALITY.  Bay and IDW both kill Optimus's persona by making him a giant ideal chaser.  

I'll have to watch the original Transformers cartoon to see how Optimus was there.  I used to read the original G1 Marvel comics when I was a kid.  I don't remember Optimus preaching all the time there.  Hm.

I also like how the creators didn't feel stuck repeating things.  Sure, Terrorsaur is LIKE Starscream but he isn't Starscream.  Dinobot is a Starscream twist.  And a type of Wolverinian anti-hero.  Cheetor is like Hot Rod but isn't.  Tarantulas is like Soundwave but isn't.  There's a lot of original material here.  I'm happy with it, so far.  We'll see how the rest of the series goes.


Step Up Revolution:
I thought this movie was awesome.  The dance sequences were great.  I liked the characters a lot?  I liked how it was shot.  Sure, there are stupid continuity issues like...Twitch is dancing in one outfit with one small unit of people and then we cut to another unit coming on in a different outfit and Twitch is dancing with them too (this happens in every dance number, random dancers being in different sections of the larger dance when they wouldn't have the time to make it from one spot to another or change their clothes...yet there they are...The Magic of Movies I think this is called).  But I can forgive those in this kind of film.

The last dance was maybe a little too...all over the place.  I'm thinking about it in terms of other Step Up movies...And I just just just just just realized I haven't seen Step Up 3.  I've spent the last week 100% convinced I had.  Weird.  Well.  In terms of 1 and 2...I think Revolution, while grand, is a little lackluster.  Cool parts but the whole thing sort of lacked meaning.  It was just like....HOW MUCH CAN WE DO.  And Moose, while dancing awesome, made no sense, was so forced.  

I liked the love story?  I liked to that we had a scene showing dance could indeed be a bad thing, when used incorrectly.  These movies try so hard to show-off dance and make it this fantastic thing.  And I think dancing is fantastic.  I'm a huge fan.  But it becomes preachy?  To actually show a negative aspect to dance, how easily it can become violent, ugly, scary...that was cool.  


The Vicious Kind:
0 min to 50 min:
I didn't want to watch this movie.  But.  It was in my Netflix queue and I thought...well, why not?  Maybe it'll surprise me?

It's surprised me!  Except I doubt my surprise.  

Adam Scott:  way better actor than I ever thought.  

Brittany Snow:  I've always felt she should be bigger than what she is.  Not physically.  Her height and weight are fine.  Are more than fine.  But career-wise.  It's odd to me she's never...made the jump.  Her film choices have been strange?  Pitch Perfect made me happy for her.  This too.  This film won't make her a superstar, but it's confirming, for me, that she has the ability to grab a role in a larger drama.  

I doubt my surprise at this movie because it's like...Adam Scott's character is interesting because he's all over the place.  But, the whole thing stems from a lack of sleep?  Lack of sleep is developed well in Fight Club.  Here...we're in media res.  The lack of sleep is almost gimmicky?  Give us 20 minutes at the beginning, with him in the relationship, the cheating, him unable to sleep, then his brother calling for the ride, etc. etc.  

The music is SO INDIE.  The music and the small moments showing characters doing things while the music plays...it's so generic.  And reminds me a lot of Another Earth.  It never bothered me in Another Earth. But now, here, it's making me question Another Earth...and AE is in my top 15.  So that's disconcerting.  But AE's layers and depth and gorgeous shots keep me from caring too much about generic Indie music choices.

I get that writers often explore a theme in more detail by having it relate to every character, so then every character reacts differently and thus shows us a different facet of the theme.  But...the dad was cheated on.  Adam Scott was cheated on.  Now Adam's concerned Snow will cheat on his brother.  It's...a little much for me.  It renders the plot too narrow?  Too confined?  It doesn't feel natural to me.  It's like someone made a cup, plate and bowl out of legos and is trying to convince they're not made of lego, but are "real" (whatever "real" means).  Me being a creative writer, I'm fully willing to admit I'm aware of things like this in a way the average viewer might not be or might not care about.  It bothers me though.  

We'll see how the rest of the movie plays out.  I'm expecting Scott's ex-girlfriend to be Snow's sister we've heard mentioned once before.  

Rest of movie:
Uh.  The twist is silly to me.  Oh!  She's a virgin!  So she REALLY ISN'T A WHORE!  Look at that!  Which brings up other questions.  Several times Adam Scott's character says he asked around about her and heard she does stuff.  Was he lying?  I guess he was lying?  But why say it twice?  Because he's damaged and fucked up?  I think the entire thing is REDUCED by Scott not actually inquiring about her.  It would say more about the character if the first 10 min of the movie was Scott asking his brother's fraternity brothers about her, hearing stories that she has hooked up with this dude, banged this dude, blown this dude, etc. etc.  How crazy does Scott have to be to actually go investigate it?  Plus, it adds another layer to the film, about rumor and gossip and reputation and lying to establish masculinity.  Now we don't know if Scott did that or not.  If he didn't, if he just lied, yeah, he's still fucked up...but it invalidates the twist of her being a virgin because...HE MADE UP HER BEING A WHORE TO BEGIN WITH.  Should we be surprised then that she's a virgin?  Plus, why does she have to be a virgin for us to be shocked she isn't a whore?  What if she had made out with 30 dudes?  What if she had slept with several people?  Is that so wrong?  Why does the film take such a polar approach to sexual interaction:  either she's experience sexually so is a whore or she's a virgin.  You can't have sexual experience and not be a whore?

I could see how people would think this movie had depth, but it lost me with this attempted twist.

The film is hilarious if you think about it from each character's perspective.  The trip is dramatic as shit for Adam Scott.  It's even more dramatic for Brittany Snow.  It's intense and dramatic for J.K. Simmons.  But what about Alex Frost, the youngest son/youngest brother/boyfriend?  HE HAS NO IDEA WHAT'S GOING ON.  He has some friction with both his brother and father.  But his brother tells him "You know I love you."  And then he has sex with his hot as hell girlfriend for the first time and loses his virginity.  Then his dad tells him "I love you, I don't say that enough."  From Alex's perspective:  it's one of the best and most important weekends of his entire life.  He's had emotional breakthroughs with his distant brother and father, and taken his relationship to the next level.  

Well, then there's the whole "tell your girlfriend you love her for the first time and she breaks into tears" thing.  Maybe she tells Alex what happened between her and Adam Scott.  Maybe she doesn't?  Maybe she's ashamed and breaks up with him?  I don't know.  The movie is annoying to me because instead of having the balls to answer this it ends prematurely.  Sure, it works as an ending.  But I think a truly great movie would have investigated this moment.  Gone through the tension to arrive at some better and more powerful place.  

The movie was okay to watch.  I'd recommend it.  I would not agree with anyone who says it's a good movie.  It's an okay movie.  It could have been a good movie, but it chickens out.  How's it chicken out?  Running away from Alex/Brittany conflict.  Under-developing the "I can't sleep" thing for Adam Scott.  The whole "I have a broken heart" subplot is also glossed over.  I can hear someone saying those things would have diluted from the main conflict within the family, but by narrowing your scope so much I think you remove the life from the conflict...it becomes something manufactured rather than something earned.  


The Goonies:
Don't ask me how it's taken me to the age of 26 to watch The Goonies.  I can't answer.  This movie is like...The Sandlot.  It's a perfect kids movie.  Friendship.  Adventure.  Girls.  Epic events (BABE RUTH!  A PIRATE SHIP!).  Myths and Legends.  Ridiculous events treated with utter seriousness (Benny "pickling" The Beast!  Sloth and One-Eyed Willy!).  There are gadgets!  Man.  Goonies is awesome.  

What's up with Mama Fratelli's forearms???????  And has anyone watched the crazy music video with Cyndi Lauper for the movie?!?!?!  It has the Iron Shiek, Lou Albano, a fucking insane Rowdy Roddy Piper, Nikolai Volkoff, Freddie Blassie, and ANDRE THE GIANT!?!?  Why!?!?!?!?!?  It's one of the weirdest things I have ever seen.  
Aziz Ansari: Dangerously Delicious:
I can't get over the fact Aziz is using the voice of the guy who does the "Unforgivable" videos.  He's not as harsh as Waffle Fries, but as you watch Aziz's special you notice he's definitely using the voice.  I guess that's a smart move since the "Unforgivable" videos are graphic, violent, sexual and loved by millions.  You can watch a comparison below.

The stand-up is, overall, meh.  The stuff about Aziz having trouble with women rings a little too desperate to me?  Or a little bitter?  Or like he's talking about it as reverse psychology:  women will know he thinks they're usually mean to him so they will be nice to him.  I was bored by this section.  

The middle portion picked up for me.  There was one part that had my legit laughing.  Don't remember what it was though.  Solid view.  But nothing close to Dave Chapelle's specials or Tosh's Completely Serious.  I don't know why I would expect that.  But I hold comedians to high standards, I guess.  I wonder if there's a Jon Pinette special?  OH HELL YEAH!  Thank you Netflix Instant!

(Mortimer's favorite moment: "I wasn't trying to suck your dick, I just wanted a bite of that donut.")
RoboCop:
With his analysis of Spring Breakers, Mortimer opened my eyes to the wonder of Paul Verhoeven.  I saw both Total Recall and Starship Troopers when I was young.  TR before the age of 10.  ST around 11 or 12, whenever it first aired on HBO.  What about RoboCop?  

I believe I was somewhere between 5-8 when I saw poor Murphy riddled with bullets and reanimated as a cyborg.  Look, my parents didn't care what I watched.  I have no idea why not.  I saw Predator and Bloodsport at the age of 5.  My dad got a kick out of it, probably?  My mom probably didn't like it but the movies didn't affect me.  I wasn't a problem child.  I didn't get violent.  I wasn't sad or scared.  I smiled and laughed and had friends.  So.  I had watched the RoboCop: The Animated Series on Saturday or Sunday mornings.  Thought the show was cool.  Had no idea there was a movie until we were in the video store one day.  BEGGED my parents to let me watch it.  Got home.  Put the VHS in.  "FJDKLFJLSKDFJDLSLJFDSL:FLS".  I still have a weird echo in my stomach from the first time I saw Murphy being slaughtered.  Bloodsport was fine.  Predator was fine.  RoboCop left me unsettled.  I didn't like, one, the massacre.  Two, how dramatic the movie was.  Three, how little RoboCop did before they started destroying him.  The whole thing seemed...unfair.  I wanted RoboCop to just...beat bad guys and do cool things.  

Re-watching the movie now.  I'm blown away.  It's so fucking good.  The same emotions are there.  But they have context now.  I can understand the physical and emotional and psychological journey Murphy goes on.  It's awesome.  

And thanks to Mortimer, I see the movie for what it is:  more criticism of Hollywood and its abuse of actors.  The way Mortimer dissected Showgirls (see Spring Breakers analysis linked above) applies here.  The lost Hollywood dream in Mulholland Dr. applies to RoboCop.  The cops and the robbers are actors and actresses (the cops being the good actors and actresses, the robbers being the bad ones who still find employment).  Omni Consumer Products is the movie studio.  The corporate executives are the executive producers.  Bob Morton is the flashy new director getting his big break.  The "RoboCop" project is his first movie.  Murphy is the big star.  But in order to become a big star, he loses his humanity.  He attempts to gain his humanity back, to get out from the clutches of the studio.  The studio turns on him.  Clarence, the crime boss of Old Detroit, is an actor that has a big name, commands respect, but does anything for money.  He's a sell out. 

The end of the movie, when viewed this way, gains an interesting dynamic.  You have the actor winning.  He defeats the powers that sought to rule and exploit him and push him out.  Which isn't the corporation it turns out.  The corporation itself isn't bad.  The President is, in fact, a pretty decent guy.  Dick Jones, the vice president, the "executive producer" is the asshole.  We see the director as a conflicted personality.  The executive producer as a total prick.  And the studio head as a good dude.  The movie isn't making such a black-and-white statement as "The actors are the best people!" because the criminals are the bad people and they're also representing actors.  It's weird to see a Hollywood-system revenge flick.  But that's what RoboCop gives us.  At the end, after RoboCop destroy Dick Jones, the President says "Nice shooting, son.  What's your name?"  It's fitting RoboCop doesn't answer with his "character" name, the role that made him famous, but his real name:  Murphy.  It's like Leonardo DiCaprio going from "Jack" to "Leo". 

Game of Thrones:  1x4, 1x5, 1x6, 1x7
I read the first three books way back in 2003.  I remember Loras being the Knight of Flowers, but I don't remember him giving a blow job to Robert's brother.  That was quite the twist.  

The casting is perfect.  I'm sure everyone thinks that.  I find it very fitting Marc Addy gets to play a king.  I have mad respect for all A Knight's Tale cast members. Even Rufus Sewell with his intimidating eyes.  


I talk often about status quo changes.  If you want to know why Game of Thrones has become one of the most popular TV shows ever, is an international phenomenon, with ratings soaring each and every episode...It's because of...this shouldn't be hard to answer...STATUS QUO CHANGE.  Things move in that show.  Characters die.  Dynamics change.  In each episode each character either A) grows, B) destructs, or C) gets caught up in intrigue.  Nothing is ever constant.  It's not like..."oh this random thing is happening, it's solved, everything is back to normal."  That's how Modern Family works and why despite being lovable it has flagging ratings.  "Characters dying regularly" was a thing Lost failed to utilize.  Characters did die, just not often enough.  

The nudity probably helps as well.  At least with keeping fanboys around.  
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<![CDATA[Modigliani:  Inquiry 151:  The "Lethal Weapon" remake widely known as "Iron Man 3"]]>Wed, 08 May 2013 03:08:16 GMThttp://www.modigmovie.com/1/post/2013/05/inquiry-151-the-lethal-weapon-remake-widely-known-as-iron-man-3.html
When Marvel announced "The director of Lethal Weapon" would be directing Iron Man 3, the general opinion was:  great!  Especially with Shane Black's Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang being such a cult hit.  This was a guy who understood action, dialogue and Robert Downey Jr.  

Comments on the Deadline story where Black got the official "He's directing!":
"Kick ass! Great choice. Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang was a lot of smart fun."

"Finally, The Iron Man franchise in capable hands…"

"I dunno. Kiss Kiss Bang Bang was pretty much Robert Downey Jr’s comeback film. He’s huge now. And when asked who he wouldn’t mind working with, I don’t think Shane Black is that much of a stretch.  The guy writes some of the biggest blockbusters ever.  And KKBB was very under appreciated.  (Great use of Val Kilmer too)."

"Although I think IM1 + 2 are great, SB is a much needed jolt to the IM franchise. Good choice!"

"Love Shane, he’s a great choice. Perfect opportunity to explore Stark’s “demons” and take IM to a deeper level character-wise."

"Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang stands as one of the most underrated and overlooked pictures of the last decade. Hopefully this gives him the clout to pen a sequel."
I don't know if Shane Black was intimidated by the pressure, or what?  But.  Rather than utilizing the characters and potentialities of the Iron Man universe to create an original plot, it seems Black reverted to the plot that made him famous.  


People:
Director:  Shane Black
Writers:  Shane Black; Drew Pearce
They didn't bother changing his facial hair from the flashback to the present:  Robert Downey Jr
Ad libbed every scene?:  Gwyneth Paltrow
Rox:  Don Cheadle
Great work!:  Guy Pearce
Looked a shit ton like Black Widow:  Rebecca Hall
WAY TOO SELF-AWARE AND CHEESY:  Jon Favreau
Stole the movie, as far as I'm concerned:  Ben Kingsley
He was cool:  James Badge Dale
Terrifying:  Stephanie Szostak
Go Jarvis:  Paul Bettany
Endearing and simultaneously annoying?:  Ty Simpkins


What It's Good For:
-if you want more Robert Downey Jr. and less Iron Man
-avoiding Tony Stark being in his Iron Man costume
-feminists
-Guy Pearce fans
-people who hoped this wouldn't suck as much as Iron Man 2
-Lethal Weapon fans
-Ben Kingsley
-witty ad-libbing
-seeing a bunch of Iron Man suits
-the whole "demon" theme is interesting


Potential Pitfalls:
-there's 100 times more Downey Jr. than there is Iron Man
-totally subverts Iron Man's greatest villain and renders him as nothing, thus killing any future stories in this continuity
-plot involves a "smarter-than-your-average-kid" kid...
-wraps up things at the end way too easily and nicely
-terrorist plot could hit too close to home for some people
-way too much like Lethal Weapon


My Assessment:
How are the Lethal Weapon movies defined?  What's the one consistent element through the four films?

Mel Gibson and Danny Glover.

To that end, on the most generic level imaginable, the second and third acts of Iron Man 3 resemble Lethal Weapon.  Why?  Because we have Robert Downey Jr. and Don Cheadle sneaking around and running around and shooting guns and being contentious and bantering.  

"Is that all the comparisons you've got?  I thought you were better than this."  

Oh, you know I am.

Let me state this now:  BOTH MOVIES TAKE PLACE LEADING UP TO CHRISTMAS AND CONCLUDE ON CHRISTMAS.

So now we have: a similar pairing of characters + both films take place at Christmas.

In LW, Riggs, played by Mel Gibson, is battling a psychological breakdown as the result of his wife's death.  Tony Stark is suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder after the events of The Avengers.  Both characters are witty, sarcastic, challenging, awesome at what they do, totally unconventional in how they operate, and both are on the brink of total psychological collapse.  

Similar pairing + both films take place at Christmas + Riggs and Stark are pretty much the same character.

If Riggs and Stark are similar, what about Murtaugh and James Rhodes?  Come on.  Both are more traditional, by-the-book dudes.  Both are always on the receiving end of jokes made by their "loud" partners.  
(Notice both Stark and Riggs say they "don't sleep").  Murtaugh and Rhodes both have pride and are good at what they do, are respected within their law enforcement positions.  Yet both remain a step behind Stark and Riggs.  With that said, Stark and Riggs need the support provided by Rhodes and Murtaugh to be successful.  Which makes the relationships in each film reciprocal:  Riggs elevates Murtaugh and Murtaugh is crucial for Riggs' survival; Stark elevates Rhodes (literally by providing him with the War Machine suit) and Rhodes is crucial for Stark's survival.  

Similar pairing + both films take place at Christmas + Riggs and Stark are pretty much the same character + Rhodes and Murtaugh have similar defining features and play similar crucial support roles.

Both main bad guys have mercenary/ex-military henchmen, with the second-in-command being the willing attack dog that doesn't flinch at doing whatever is asked.  We see this with Gary Busey keeping his arm in the flame, without complaint, without flinching.  In IM3, henchman Eric Savin terrorist bombs public venues and kills special agents and kidnaps the President, and even threatens a child.  All without flinching.  Both Busey's Mr. Joshua and Eric Savin are major antagonists in their films.  

Similar pairing + both films take place at Christmas + Riggs and Stark are pretty much the same character + Rhodes and Murtaugh have similar defining features and play similar crucial support role + mercenary henchmen + second-in-command henchmen are major antagonists.

Iron Man 3 stews in terrorism.  We have the bombing at the Chinese theater, we have the bomb in Tennessee, we have the hit on Tony Stark, we have The Mandarin shooting someone live on TV, we have the breaching of Air Force One and the kidnapping of the President of the United States.

Check out the following scene:
Lethal Weapon also involves a public act of violence, one that we, as the general populace, are terrified of:  a school shooting.  A sniper shooting kids and cops.  This isn't "terrorism", per se, but both Black movies involve these kinds of grandiose acts of public violence.  

Similar pairing + both films take place at Christmas + Riggs and Stark are pretty much the same character + Rhodes and Murtaugh have similar defining features and play similar crucial support role + mercenary henchmen + second-in-command henchmen are major antagonists + grandiose acts of violence against the public

I think the most alarming change in Shane Black helming Iron Man:  the amount of murder.  Now Iron Man had bad guys being killed, but think of the scenarios:  terrorists who have imprisoned Tony Stark and tortured him, terrorists who are actively murdering villagers, and, last, Obadiah fucking Stane.   Iron Man 2 had even less killing.  Just a bunch of robots.  Let me preface this next bit by saying:  I'm down with killing bad guys in movies.  Especially 80s and 90s action movies.  One of the coolest things to me about X-Men 2 was...do you know when?  When the mercenaries have invaded the mansion and one encounters Wolverine.  They fight.  And because there was zero killing in the first X-Men movie, I expected Wolverine to knock the guy out somehow and move on.  Nope.  Wolverine impales the dude.  
It was a severe tone change for the X-Men movies.  Especially for that character.  It somehow made everything...more real?  At least for me.  I thought the first X-Men movie cheesy as shit and stupid.  Wolverine impaling the guy wasn't manufactured drama.  It wasn't CGI.  It wasn't over the top.  It was old-fashioned violence.  And it resonates.  For some reason.  Maybe because we see the terrified Bobby Drake hiding behind the counter, witnessing this?  Maybe it's the yell before Wolverine does it?  The yell transforms the decision from a "matter of fact" thing to an act of passion.  The killing is fueled.  In Iron Man 3 the killing is...understated. 

Who is Tony Stark killing in Iron Man 3?  Random henchmen at a mansion.  These aren't terrorists who have kidnapped and tortured him.  These aren't terrorists in the middle of attacking a village full of innocents.  These aren't the masterminds who have engineered countless deaths.  These are just...glorified security guards.  We haven't seen them do anything bad.  We can assume they're bad since they're employed by The Mandarin?  But what about the first two guards Tony kills?  Did they do anything wrong?  Maybe they did?  Maybe they didn't?  What struck me is how mercilessly Tony dispatches them.  With homemade bombs no less.  The one was already unconscious!  Tony blows up his face.  In the middle of the henchmen massacre, one guy throws up his hands and says, "Honestly, I hate working here.  They are so weird."  Tony lets this guy run away.  Here's the relevant question, then:  who is to say the first two guys Tony murdered weren't of the same disposition?  Sure, a lot of the bad guys were shooting at Tony and Tony had to do what Tony had to do...but were all the bad guys evil?  This article from Den of Geek gets at why I'm interested in Tony's lack of remorse.  All the Spider-Man movies make a big deal about death.  All of Nolan's Batman movies make a big deal about death.  Even Murtaugh makes a big deal about killing.
"You ever meet someone you haven't killed?"

Even Shane Black in Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang had Downey Jr's character react to killing.  Not so, here.  Here, Tony Stark has reached a level where he lacks remorse.  "All the Extremis subjects are former US soldiers who were wounded on duty?  Should we have Tony Stark try to talk with them, try to offer to help them?  Nah.  Let's just have Jarvis-operated Iron Man suits murder them."  In Shane Black's Iron Man movie, Tony Stark is a sociopath.  It's no longer a question, no longer a "what-if".  This poster, created as a joke, is applicable:
And this fan-fiction shows how the groundwork for Tony Stark as a sociopath was already in place:  click here for fan-faction.  It's short.  

Now we can debate whether or not Riggs is a sociopath.  He's definitely unhinged, but is he a sociopath?  I don't know.  But what I do know is that Black has made Tony Stark a way more remorseless killer than in either of the previous movies.  

Similar pairing + both films take place at Christmas + Riggs and Stark are pretty much the same character + Rhodes and Murtaugh have similar defining features and play similar crucial support role + mercenary henchmen + second-in-command henchmen are major antagonists + grandiose acts of violence against the public + main character showing little remorse for killing.

Remember when Rhodes is chained with his hands over his head and tortured so he leaves his suit?  Isn't it sort of familiar to this scene (see below)?  Remember how Tony is simultaneously held prisoner (while Rhodes is being tortured)?  All the while Pepper Potts has been taken prisoner by Rebecca Hall/Guy Pearce?   What do we have in Lethal Weapon
Oh, so both Riggs and Murtaugh are taken prisoner?  Then Riggs escapes, kills a bunch of people, and saves Murtaugh?  And a female who is close to one of the main characters was taken prisoner in order to manipulate one of the main characters?  COOL.  Maybe Stark doesn't save Cheadle, but he does take out a majority of the guards, which opens up an opportunity for Cheadle.  Then they do escape together.  

Similar pairing + both films take place at Christmas + Riggs and Stark are pretty much the same character + Rhodes and Murtaugh have similar defining features and play similar crucial support role + mercenary henchmen + second-in-command henchmen are major antagonists + grandiose acts of violence against the public + main character showing little remorse for killing + both male protagonists captured by antagonists and tortured before they're able to escape + loved one taking prisoner by bad guy and used to attempt to manipulate protagonist

Last and least important of all.  Both final fights take place by ugly makeshift Christmas trees.  In IM3, it's the Christmas tree the President is strung up above.  In LW it's the pole-and-light combo in the front yard.  
Has Shane Black done good work in the past?  Yeah.  It's exactly what got him the Iron Man job in the first place.  But did he do good work on Iron Man 3?  Eh.....  Depends.  If you look at the movie by itself:  I think he did a decent job.  If you look at the movie in comparison to Lethal Weapon:  I think Black played it safe and made a movie that felt familiar rather than trying something unique and daring.  If you compare it to Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang:  I think he did a decent job, but it wasn't as good as KKBB.  If you compare it to Iron Man 2:  this is a step forward.  If you compare it to Iron Man:  this is a another step back.

"Why?"

Stagnation.  

Power in narrative comes from two places.

1.  Creating Status Quo.

2.  Breaking Status Quo.  

This is the major difference between first films and sequels.  The first film ALWAYS establishes status quo.  Most second films do nothing to change status quo.  Or the changes made are superficial.  Look at Jurassic Park to Lost World to Jurassic Park III.  It's always "Good guys trying to survive" and "bad guys trying to take dinosaurs".  In the first movie, it's Nedry stealing the DNA.  In LW it's the corporation trying to take live dinosaurs to a zoo in San Diego.  In JP3, it's the assistant trying to steal raptor eggs.  STOP DOING THE SAME THING.  The status quo mutates in these movies but never evolves or transforms.  

I'm not saying every first film is good.  Obviously there are bad movies.  And even when movies change the status quo they can still suck. Spider-Man 3 attempted a status quo change with the black costume, which was a great idea brutally murdered by details and tensions Sam Raimi thought people would enjoy.  Not to mention Tobey Maguire looking like this:
And these:
Anyway, fuck Spider-Man 3.

Iron Man established Iron Man.  It gave us a Marvel Universe.  SHIELD.  There was all kinds of potential.  Where has the status quo gone from here?

Iron Man 2 cements Pepper and Tony as a couple.  War Machine arrives.  Tony Stark perfects the arc reactor.  Automated Bad Iron Man suits.  Some backstory about Stark's dad.  The bad guy introduced is killed.  

Iron Man 3 does what?  Pepper and Tony are suffering as a couple.  Some backstory about Stark.  War Machine is painted and renamed:  Iron "let's not use one of the most popular characters in the Marvel Universe" Patriot.  Automated Good Iron Man suits.  Bluetooth Iron Man suit control.  Super soldiers.  The bad guy introduced is killed.  (A great mini-quo shift is with The Mandarin.  We go from thinking he's The Evil Dude to him being a stupid actor.  Great shift.  Except we already knew Guy Pearce was the bad guy, so the potential in the revelation is lessened.  Instead of creating mystery surrounding who the bad guy is (like in Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang) we're left to wonder "What will Guy Pearce do now?".)    

Let me tell you why Status Quo is the key to narrative power.  Potential.  When we don't know anything, there's potential for everything.  It's like exploring a new town or city.  That's why creating status quo is interesting.  

Destroying status quo is interesting because it then allows you to create NEW status quo.  What will happen now?  For example.  My home town had six pizza places.  Then a new plaza went up near the grocery store.  There were 6 empty buildings.  WHAT WOULD GO IN THERE?!  Shopping places?  Fancy restaurants?  A fast food place we didn't have?  Guess what went in there.  A beauty parlor, a flower shop, an accountant, a tanning salon, nothing (yeah, nothing), and A FUCKING PIZZA PLACE. It lasted two years and went out of business.  What would replace it?  Turns out:  a good restaurant.  

Iron Man 2  at least gave us Pepper and Tony as a couple.  We felt something momentous had happened.  War Machine?  Totally squandered; barely does anything; there's new status quo that's underdeveloped...then underused in the next movie, too.  Sure it's an Iron Man movie (which means writers think we have to ALWAYS stick to the main character...sigh).  But that doesn't mean we can't figure out a plot that uses War Machine for more than 3 minutes.  Stark's involvement with his father is dropped in IM3.  And what's the point of perfecting the arc reactor?  The new status quo doesn't lead anywhere.  Sure, the old reactor was poisoning Stark, so the new one saves his life...but uh...that's an arbitrary problem someone made up to be a point of conflict in the plot.  Someone could have easily have said:  "the arc reactor isn't poisonous!  Let's think of something ONE MILLION times more interesting than that plot.  Like...Iron Man is overcommitted.  So the first half an hour of the movie we're just seeing him take on mission after mission after mission.  He's wearing down and wearing out.  Enemies not only continue cropping up, they're now maneuvering with him in mind.  Decoy strikes in one area to lure him.  Instead of bullets, high powered tasers.  Lasers.  Booby trapped hideouts.  He can't do it on his own.  Thus:  War Machine.  Tony is fighting for GLOBAL PEACE.  The last wrench in the operation:   Anton Vanko.  Vanko joins forces with an enemy group and starts working on enemy Iron Men.  He also knows the arc reactor.  Creates one.  Creates many.  Now the weapons Iron Man and War Machine are encountering become too much.  There's only one way around it:  escalation.  Tony has to create better weapons (which he has qualms with, we know, after the last movie).  The weapons improve, but Vanko goes for the kill.  He creates things that drain Arc energy.  Fuck.  Now Tony is in trouble.  The ground he had gained in Global Peace is taken back by the enemy.  Tony struggles to create a new reactor, a stronger one.  He can't.  This is when he learns about his dad's original research into the arc reactor.  Learns more about his father.  Tony only new part of the design!  Here he goes...New reactor, new suit with sweeter capabilities.  Climax with insane battle sequence utilizing newfound tech.  Global peace is achieved.  Which makes, come The Avengers, the arrival of Loki EVEN MORE OF A SHOCK AND GUT PUNCH FOR STARK.  Just when Stark thinks he has saved the Earth, he has to fight gods and aliens.  It's demoralizing, in an extreme way."  

What would have happened in IM3?  Stark pursues Pepper.  But is simultaneously increasing his alcohol consumption.  The PTSD from The Avengers keeps him out of the suit.  With War Machine handling the minor conflicts in the world, Iron Man isn't needed much anyway.  There's a lack of Iron Man being in the suit not because it's malfunctioning or he's been defeated or it's out of power, but because he's generally incapable of being in it.  Have War Machine attacked and captured.  Have Stark terrified to save Rhodey.  Have Pepper and Stark officially dating but she's horrified by the two men she sees:  Who Tony Was and Alcoholic Tony.  It's a terrifying story in the fact it shows the Iron Man armor is only as good as the man inside of it.  And that while Tony has been Iron Man on the outside, he has yet to solidify himself as Iron Man on the inside.  

"But where's the action?!?!"  There'll be ways to get it in there.  Mostly via War Machine and other subplots.  Or even in Tony's head.  In alcoholic delusions and dreams.  Surreal Iron Man battles and contests.  And you know what?  People would respect the fuck out of this movie.  

This is what I'm talking about in terms of status quo creation and destruction.  What saves Tony from his demons and the alcohol?  Pepper.  When she's needed the most, when he is at his absolute worst, that's when she's there to love him and see him through.  This is when their relationship loses its working dynamic, even the hesitant initial dating dynamic, this is when she turns into his savior.  Everything they have been, all the witty banter and routine dependence is washed away, because at the end of the day all of that was superficial.  They form stronger, more intimate bonds.  

So in the second movie we would have established global peace and War Machine and Tony would have eclipsed his former work, work that had started to become replicated by another.  In the third movie, we'd tear down the character, who is bored and haunted, and render him incapable of being the man he was.  This brings him love he has always been too afraid to accept.  In the second movie he had to solidify his external-self, in this third film the inner-self finds cohesion and peace.

Instead, what do we get?  A destroyed mansion, Pepper Potts gaining super strength for 1 minute, and Tony getting the shrapnel removed from his chest.  Whoopdy do!


Did I Like It:
Sure.  It could have and should have been so much better.  At least it was better than the second movie.  I do think Black had a really interesting subplot going on with Stark and the Iron Man.  There are many shots, scattered throughout the movie, of Stark being outside the Armor as it's operating.  When Stark is sleeping, he wakes up to the Armor in his face, grabbing Pepper.  The Armor is going to hurt Pepper!  Then there's Tony putting the Armor ON Pepper.  She wears it to save him.  Then, when he puts it on, it fails him.  There's no flight capability.  Down Tony goes.  Even then, the suit saves him by literally giving him a hand:  the hand of the suit disengages, takes Tony's hand, and pulls Tony from the water.  Impressive.  This subplot is concluded when Tony sees the mask on the ground, after the fight with Guy Pearce.  The mask has a fire in it.  It's staring right at Tony.  Tony is staring at it.  The flame writhes out from one eye.  
If it weren't for this psychological subplot, I think I'd hate this movie?  Or at least just not care about it at all.  As is, this self-confrontation that's running throughout the film...devoured my interest.  I think it could have been placed in a better movie and elevated Iron Man 3 to awesome heights.

Seriously:  the scenes with Jon Favreau were like...something straight out of Spider-Man 3 (I know of no worst insult).  Maybe there's some humor we can take from it?  But can you seriously say to me that "More Jon Favreau" was the best thing for the movie?  Did anyone want those scenes?  I'm not saying there shouldn't have been any Jon Favreau...just...not SPIDER-MAN 3 JON FAVREAU.  

Can we talk about how both IM2 and IM3 end with lots of AI controlled Iron Men?  Isn't that a little cheap?

In the third installment war:  as much as I talked shit about The Dark Knight Rises, I think TDKR is better.  Maybe?  I'd have to re-watch TDKR.  The plot holes could still be too ridiculous for me.  But at least it Status Quo shifts are more meaningful than IM3.  

Inquiry Closed

MODIGLIANI
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<![CDATA[Weekly Viewing Diary 4:  Mafioso, Modern Family (4x22), Branded to Kill, The Voice (4x14, 4x15, 4x16), L'avventura, The Running Man, Seeking a Friend for the End of the World]]>Mon, 06 May 2013 19:15:40 GMThttp://www.modigmovie.com/1/post/2013/05/weekly-viewing-diary-4-seeking-a-friend-for-the-end-of-the-world.html

Modigliani:

L'avventura:
0 min to 60 min:
I love Red Desert.  It's in my top 20.  I got it on blu-ray and watched it.  It ended, I watched it again.  It's been influential for me as a poet and fiction writer.  I love Red Desert.  

L'avventura...eh.  There are some striking shots.  And the dissolve when Anna and her dude finish their fight and he's lying on the rocks and she's standing nearing the water...we dissolve to just a cliff and just water.  It's insane.  Awesome.  Beautiful.  If we're taking metaphor for it, we can see it as how doomed they are as a couple.  The cliff and water share proximity, sure, but they are in conflict.  The water beats into the cliff.  The cliff stands against the water.  I don't see the two as being together.  Same with Anna and the dude.  They're close but...not together.  

While I love that dissolve.  The movie is boring me.  The dialogue...The shots don't have a coherence to me in the same way as the ones in Red Desert.  I've found it kind of boring?  Which I think isn't something I thought I'd ever say about Antonioni.  Much less a film from the Janus 50 Years of Art House collection.  Hm.  we'll see how the rest of the movie goes.  

60 min to 85 min:
Monica Vitti, oy vey.  The movie is bearable because of her.  I never thought I'd say an Antonioni film was "bearable".  Sigh.  I am seeing more symbolism.  Anna is like the water.  She dissolves.  And Sandro is like the island.  Lonely.  We had a line early in the movie, I forget who said it, about how lonely the islands must be.  Then we had the shot where Sandro is lying on the rocks, then we dissolve to just rocks.  It's as though he melted into the island, became the island.  I wonder if by the end of the movie I'll appreciate it more?  I have another hour.  We'll see.

85 min to 110 min:
More Monica Vitti.  I must say, it's a nice change of pace to see her less skittish and vacant, to see her impassioned and smiling.  Red Desert she's so...off her rocker.  Good to see another facet of her acting.  This reminds me of a twitter-tasrophe I had with Sarah Gadon.  

I tweeted at her:  I've now seen you in Danger Method and Cosmo. Are there movies where you smile/laugh/get to be happy? I'd like to watch one haha

She responded with:  is that what you look for in a female actress? Would you prefer it if I smiled and giggled more?

I said:  not prefer, no, I really liked your performances! Cos is my fave movie of 2012. Just interested in seeing another side is all

She said:  I'll get right on it :)

Which I thought was nice, at first, then I realized it's probably sarcasm:  haha if that's sarcasm, well played! Either way, excited for your future work. frowning, stoic, smiling, anything. esp An Enemy

That was the end of our conversation.  But this is what I mean.  I think it's nice to see actors and actresses in different types of roles, displaying a variety of emotions.  I don't very much care for character actors who do the same thing again and again and again.  

Anyway.  I'm finally enjoying L'avventura.  At least this section.  I asked myself "If Antonioni spent so much time using setting in Red Desert to discuss industrialism and the impact it has on the modern psyche...could he not be doing something similar here?"  That's made the movie more interesting.  There's some dynamic between human emotion and nature.  Like the first time Sandro and Claudia seriously kiss and enjoy holding each other:  it's in the middle of a field.  Not a bed.  Not indoors.  In nature.  Then a train comes by, out of nowhere, and reminds them they have things to do.  It's interesting the movie keeps oscillating between very nature-dominant settings then civilized spaces.  There's also the abandoned town preceding Sandro and Claudia's moment in the field.  We don't know why the town is abandoned, in terms of "why aren't there people there".  If we're looking at symbolic/thematic/metaphoric meaning, this is a clue. There's no other reason to have an abandoned town than to further symbolism/theme/metaphor.  The last shot of the town is of a church in the middle-ground.  But.  If you pay close attention, you notice...on the left side of the frame, in the background:  mountains.  The mountains line up almost perfectly with the lines of the church roof.  Which makes the mountains and architecture almost seamless.  What's Sandro's profession?  A fucking architect.  And we see whenever a character is in a city very very very wide shots showing them dwarfed by the buildings around them.  

There's also the cool moment of when Sandro goes into the hotel and Claudia is out on the street.  All the dudes appear.  They're drawn to Claudia.  This is similar to when Sandro was in another town and all the men were chasing a woman.  She appeared some celebrity.  She ate it up.  Answering questions, bantering, smiling.  She was made for the attention.  We know Claudia IS NOT MADE FOR THAT ATTENTION. So when she starts to get into a similar situation, we automatically worry how it will affect her.  We know her will enough at this point to know she won't like this, she won't do well with this.  Very very very very interesting to me.

So.  Yeah.  Finally.  Themes are coming through to me and the movie is gaining enjoyment.  

(Mortimer here. For the record, I to came to quite love L'avventura as the movie progressed. But dear God, it will try your patience along the way.)

Rest of the movie:
The last thirty minutes of the movie didn't do too much for me.  When Sandro went down to the party, I kept thinking "please, don't let this become all about whether or not she can or can't forgive him for cheating..."  And that's what it becomes.  It's such a...small and selfish drama..."Can she or can't she forgive this man for cheating!"  There's something very petty to me about that.  Either break up or move on, I don't care.  To bring this entire 143 minute movie to bear on that decision...I feel sort of cheated?  

BUT.  There's more going on.  Which salvages the situation for me.  

1.  The girl Sandro fools arounds with is a blend of Anna and Claudia.  We saw at the beginning of the movie how Anna and Claudia are similar in appearance, despite contrasting hair color.  They share clothes.  They're best friends.  They're linked further by both loving Sandro and being loved by Sandro.  Claudia is, in a sense haunted by Anna.  We hear this when Claudia can't find Sandro.  She tells her friend she's scared Anna is still alive, will return.  Why?  Because Claudia has assumed Anna's place as Sandro's love.  Anna's returns would force Claudia out of that position (or so Claudia fears).  When Claudia finds Sandro, he's with a dark haired girl, similar to Anna.  But the hair style is much more Claudia.  The body is more Claudia.  Maybe she was solely supposed to represent Anna?  I see a mixture.  What is developed, then, is Claudia haunted psychologically and emotionally by Anna.  Sandro is haunted physically.  He couldn't resist.  Which might be why Claudia forgives him.  At first she is upset he is with another woman.  But then maybe she thought about how the woman looked like Anna?  And she gets it...Sandro is still hurting too, still misses Anna too.  That doesn't mean he doesn't love Claudia.  He just...is also confused.  

Wow. I'm liking the movie more and more and more.

2.  There's still something going with nature/civilization.  Sandro and Claudia are happy when they're away from civilization.  When they're in the privacy of a room (which is much like a cave).  Whenever they got out in a city, there is tension.  From other people, yes, but also because Anna could be there.  And friends don't provide comfort in this movie, they would only provide judgment.  Even Claudia can't stop from judging her friend that is making out with the 17 year old prince.  At first Claudia is amused by it, enjoys seeing two people happy to be with one another.  Then she remembers her friend is married.  Which reminds Claudia she loves Sandro but Sandro is with Anna. So Claudia plays the hypocrite and chastises the friend.  The friend, undaunted, escorts Claudia out and continues on with her romp.  Where was I?

Oh.  The final shot.  
Look at how the frame is clearly divided down the middle.  On one side is an obstructing wall.  Part of civilization.  Part of architecture.  Part of a human-made structure.  On the other half:  a mountain, sky.  It's interesting too that on the "nature half" is room for several people to sit on the bench.  On the "civilized half" there's only room on the bench for one.  

This shot dispels any doubt that Nature/Civilization is not a theme in this movie.  Just like with Red Desert, landscape plays an important role in the psychology of the characters.  Except Red Desert is straightforward in the use of such a tool.  Not just straightforward...domineering.  What is understated and subtle in L'avventura is escalated ten-fold in Desert.  I must say.  Despite my initial "meh" attitude toward this movie...I'm beginning to appreciate it more and more.  There is total brilliance here.  Antonioni did not let me down.  He makes use of setting in ways no other director had or has since.  Bravo.  

I'll probably have to watch the movie again in order to better understand the nuance of what he did here.  Or maybe the concept wasn't fully formed?  He didn't quite have the mastery necessary to pull it off as he did in Red Desert?  It's like... In Desert setting drives psychology which drives action which drives plot.  In L'avventura plot drives actions which drives psychology which drives setting.  Hm.  

Modern Family:  4x22
I'm starting to dislike Cam.  He's so needy all the time. I still laugh at things that he does.  But most of the plot points involving him just...make me sigh and roll my eyes at this point.  

I read somewhere this episode had the lowest ratings of any Modern Family episode ever.  I wonder what the reaction will be from the creative team?  Bring in a new character?  Cause a more severe conflict?  Other shows usually set-up some tension they keep using as bait.  Friends had "Ross and Rachel" but in a more general sense:  "Who will each of these characters settle down with?"  They were all single.  The next step is, obviously, committed relationships.  We wanted to see them happy.  With people who would make them happy.  The same is true for How I Met Your Mother.  People seriously continue to watch just because they want to know who the fucking mother will be.  Even The Office used a similar mechanism:  first Jim and Pam, then Michael with Holly.  Modern Family has zero plot dynamic like this.  They either have to begin focusing more on the kids and their relationships?  Or they have to have a divorce?  Or potential divorce?  I don't know.  They hasn't been a real plot arc?  Haley going to college?  Gloria and Jay having a baby?  None of these are multiple episode arcs.  There's been no significant threats or changes to status quo, which means momentum slows.  

I still enjoy the show, I just wish it would...be a bit bolder.  Not saying they have to HAVE CRAZY THINGS HAPPEN.  But using things like...cliff hangers.  Or stories that aren't self-contained and last only a single episode.  Suburgatory did a great job in its second season of having understated story arcs.  WATCH SUBURGATORY.  That is all.


The Voice 4x14, 4x15, 4x16:
FINALLY.  These are the performances I want to here.  I'm finally connecting to performers.  Seriously, I liked everything.  Everything.  Maybe these folks weren't capable of performing like this until this point in the show?  But it feels like when the race horses are allowed to full sprint.  THIS is why I watch The Voice.  

I guess my favorite performance was Sasha Allen.  Followed by Danielle.  

Rod Stewart sounds like he's saying "Fine Ass woman that I've ever known."  

Really liked seeing Cee Lo and Juliet Simms.  Juliet's dress was cool.  

The performance of "Don't You Worry Child" might be one of my favorite things I've ever seen on this show.  In all four seasons.  That was dope.  

I went from not caring about any of the performers to not wanting to see any of them go.  I'm a sucker.  I'm writing as I'm watching who Usher is going to save.  Josiah.  I liked whatever it was he sang.  He's gotten better?  I mean, they've all gotten better so that was a stupid comment.  But.  I feel like he went from okay to legit.  

Adam's team.  Judith, good.  The one girl looks so much like Alicia Silverstone circa Clueless it's freaking me out.  And Alicia is gone.  Man.  Adam really couldn't figure out who to save.  I wish he had gone too long.  That would have been great for ratings.  People would have been like "WHAT HAPPENED".  They should do that next time.
Seeking a Friend for the End of the World:  
0 min to 60 min:  
Well Keira Knightley, I always liked you.  And recently, with A Dangerous Method and this movie, I'm respecting you more and more.  It's not like I lacked respect before, I just think she's doing a good good good job as of late.  Especially in this with letting her quirky side come out more.  I think she's method-acting more than Steve Carell is or can?  I'm becoming more bored by Steve Carell's range?  Either goofy slapstick or semi-depressed observer who gets stronger as the movie goes along.  But I enjoy watching Steve Carell movies, so he still has that.

Movie is way more black comedy than I expected, what with all the suicides and Steve Carell depression?  And has way more emotion and character development than I thought it would.  Part of me imagined this movie having less heart, but I feel like I can feel that someone, or multiple people, really cared about this project.  For some reason, despite this being an Indie-film, I was waiting for a Yes, Man type "feel-good" movie.  Hm.  The only scenes that have stuck out to me are Keira's talk with the policeman and her phone call to her family.  She's really doing work.  

Rest of the movie (this is a running diary):  
I like that during the dinner scene in the ex girlfriend's house, Keira Knightley's teeth are purple from the wine.  And that you see Steve Carell falling in love with her.  As she talks.  Again, a nice monologue, full of character and emotion.  I'm buying everything Keira is selling in this movie.  When they kiss on the beach, SHE LOOKS SO HAPPY.  It makes me happy.  

All of Steve Carell's sadness seems to stem from his dad. Having coped with his dad, what happens?  Carell finds a peace had hadn't had before.  We see it on his face as his dad is flying off to take Keira to England.  

Elsa amuses me.  Other people seem in denial about the change.  She just seems...like she's the embodiment that things will continue on.  She provides a bit of hope there will be a next Tuesday. 

As the world ends, all these characters want is each other. That with everything else on the line, they want nothing more than connection to someone else.  We have two people who were strangers who have a lot to learn about one another.  What would it be like for couples who are long term?  How many long-term couples in this movie fell apart?  Plenty.  Which is interesting commentary.  That's the thing about end of the world movies, right?  The situation reveals to characters how pointless their daily routines are.  How the structures in their lives are moot.  They're now able to do whatever because there isn't enough time to matter.  Which begs the question of the viewer:  what are you doing?  Each of us never knows when our life will end...  We need to balance long-term planning with short-term happiness because while the world isn't ending, we can make long-term plans, it doesn't mean we have to put up with shit that makes us less than happy, that is sufferable but not unbearable.  Ew.  

The end made me really sad.  

The lines about "I thought we'd save each other" and "We did" remind me of "Cosmopolis".  Actually, the two have a lot in common.  Same concepts, in a way.  Except one is literal and the other is philosophical/psychological.  

I now hate Elsa for giving me hope.  

Mortimer:

Mafioso:
I never thought I'd say this, but: "What the fuck, Criterion???"

Mafioso isn't a deplorable film, but it's definitely not a good film. I'm not even aware of Mafioso's or its director Alberto Lattuada's historical significance. The only thing I can say about Mafioso, in all honesty, is that it's an absurd film.

I don't want to compare Mafioso to Sleepaway Camp or Speed 2: Cruise Control (I'm BLOWING YOUR MIND right now, aren't I?), but I honestly think the guys running the "How Did This Get Made?" podcast could do an episode on Mafioso. There are so many tonal shifts and random excursions and wacky props that I'm not even entirely sure if I'm supposed to take Mafioso seriously. It's billed as a "dark comedy" on the Criterion box, but what the hell does that entail? "Dark comedy" is such a specific genre, and I think Mafioso's general wackiness is much less helpful in aiding its dark comedy pursuits and much more detrimental to it as a serious psychological drama.

Like...OK, Eating Raoul is a dark comedy, and is just as frivolous and dizzying as Mafioso in its random excursions. But every time Paul and Mary host one of their murderous sexcapades (if that word isn't trademarked yet, it's now mine), it's building on the core goals of the movie: Paul and Mary despise the orgy-loving generation that is seemingly standing in the way of their perfect secluded lifestyle, yet they continually get off and profit from the generation's sexual offerings. Eating Raoul is certifiably insane, but each separated, random dress-up party contributes towards this goal. And not only that, but these moments are multi-faceted in their separate approaches, expressing various societal observations through the environments they recreate, giving Eating Raoul some substantial bulk to go along with its budding personality.

Mafioso indeed has quite a bit of personality, but I would say its not earned like Paul Bartel's Eating Raoul. Lattuada's wackiness is more a result of misguided intentions, a lack of ideas, and too many screenwriters (FIVE OF THEM) than a general playfulness. Eating Raoul is able to be dark while remaining zany, while Mafioso seems incapable of finding balance, beating the darker moments into the ground through recycled props and hitting the "repeat" button on the ominous music. There are some hilarious moments that are only hilarious to somebody looking for the latest "How Did This Get Made?" gem, like the random game of paddle ball that resembles tossing the pigskin in The Room, or Antonio's almost out-of-body musical number that's less convincing than My Best Friend's Wedding. Mafioso's goofier moments are nothing but just that, not really multifaceted or building on new ideas. Really, all you need to know is that Antonio has a dark past that can crop up any moment, and it does, of course, keeping in line with the myriad foreshadowing moments, like when Antonio shoots a pretend pistol, or when he preaches to his old band of criminals. Too bad I can't take it seriously, as I'm too focused on that glistening pot-belly and striped short shorts. 

Branded to Kill:
My first Seijun Suzuki film. I'm gonna have to check out more from this crazy motherfucker, because this movie is INSANE (I've heard Pistol Opera is even crazier, which sorta scares me).

Knowing Branded to Kill's well-documented story helps in understanding how it functions as a film. It doesn't go much further than the fact that Suzuki was hired to make another Tokyo Drifter, but instead made a fuck-you to his studio execs by compiling this collection of images that's more erratic than a Tommy gun. Suzuki seems more dedicated to the pleasures B-movies have to offer than satisfying his boss' (and the mass audience's) desires, thus a film like Branded to Kill is as much a wacky B-film as a self-indulgent ode to the constraints of studio filmmaking.

The desire to be the "number one" killer is a blind, reckless one, thus Goro becomes this strange mix between suppressed filmmaker and James Bond parody victim. At some points I can't differentiate which Suzuki seems to go for, but knowing he probably despised the blasé big-budget 007 rip-offs, I don't see why he can't go a meta on our asses and give us a little of both. All at once I can see Goro's drive to kill his competitors to be both a comment on the forced rivalries between filmmakers created by studio execs to produce the most commercial film possible, and also a comment on those very films produced and how empty they really are. No matter how you look at it, there's blood on somebody's hands.

I guess most have attached themselves to the filmmaking metaphor because of the director's history, which I agree with and I think it totally makes sense. But I also think Branded to Kill becomes much more interesting if we view it as some erratic spoof on the genre, which introduces all sorts of political issues, especially in regards to how the "spy genre" deals with gender politics. Miami is the submissive woman who commits herself entirely to attempting to satisfy Goro's insatiable thirst for both sex and violence, thus he can leave her with ease--she'll be there (naked) once he gets home. Misako, on the other hand, never offers her body to Goro. She's cold and distant, which drives Goro much more insane than even if she was resisting. Even ripping her stockings off seems like a meticulous chore that won't get Goro hard. She covers her walls with butterflies, which is pretty much my favorite thing in this movie. It's meant to reflect the innocence of the female stereotype, but also how women are utilized as the "traitors" in so many spy films, using their sexuality to coerce men into submissiveness. This is shown in a disgusting shot where Goro reaches for Misako in a sexual moment and only grabs a handful of bugs, which he squeezes the juices from. Maybe it speaks of how perverted I am when I can attach no other meaning to the juices running down Goro's hands, but then again, you'll have to balance my perversion against Suzuki's insanity.

The Running Man:
Well, Arnold had a good run.

That's not some snarky comment referring to this moment in Arnold's career. Of course he went on to make some great films (including 2012 and 2013, before you start scoffing). But for me, as a dude who formerly had to be tied down in order to watch an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie, this was a complete dud.

Part of the blame goes to Arnold, who is REALLY phoning it in on this one. But the biggest surprise is writer Steven E. de Souza's shoddy work. I assumed he wouldn't sandwich such a wildly stupid film between Commando and Die Hard, but I also didn't think he'd be attempting some sort of social commentary in the mean time. 

(And now I see my blind faith in him is my own fault--he wrote Street Fighter in 1994. Just sayin'.)

Sometimes a movie can just give away how little of a shit it gives in a single scene. I honestly didn't expect another Commando when I started The Running Man, but I thought I'd at least be having a good time. Or I wouldn't be bullshitted. Alas, I discovered how little of a shit I myself gave about this steamin' pile of crap when Amber was cast into "The Running Man" game show. This was done not because it challenged some sort of well-developed status quo amidst Souza's lame and half-assed depiction of totalitarianism, nor because her role as a woman in such a sick system advanced any sort of gender politics on a game show largely dominated by men killing each other. No, she is simply sent into the game show to force the revelation: "Oh, Ben wasn't lying! HE IS INNOCENT!!!!!"

Bull. Fucking. Shit. I hated this moment so much that I thought about getting up, leaving the room, and finishing the end of Branded to Kill (or softly crying into my pillow because of the state of action films) while my friends finished the film. But I'm a trooper, and lo and behold, against my wishes for something horrible to happen so I have something to enjoy, Ben gets the girl in the end. Not because they've built any sort of relationship that's founded on trust or honest attraction, but instead a completely contrived moment that advanced no agenda other than, "Hey, it's 1987 and everyone else is making movies out of Stephen King movies, let's crank this movie out tomorrow afternoon."

The moment where John walks into the helicopter with Cindy and his daughter in Commando is hilarious. The moment Ben kisses Amber in The Running Man is just goddamn insulting. Fuck this movie.
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<![CDATA[Weekly Movie Diary: 3: Gertrud, Louie (1x11, 1x13), Commando, The Voice (4x9, 4x10) , Rurouni Kenshin (live action), Viridiana, Devi (The Goddess), Dragon Ball Z Kai (episodes 80-98)]]>Wed, 01 May 2013 19:19:17 GMThttp://www.modigmovie.com/1/post/2013/05/weekly-movie-diary-3.html

Modigliani:

Louie:
1x13:  In school, you usually learn that every story involves at least one of four potential conflicts.

1.  Person vs. Person
2.  Person vs. Society
3.  Person vs. Nature
4.  Person vs. Self

In Louie, Louie is constantly going up against all four and loses and loses and loses and loses and loses.  In this episode, we see Louie lose his date, he loses in his attempt to go clubbing, and part of his loss in attempting to club and fit in with society is because he lacks the confidence to know what to do, which means he has already lost against himself.  If we consider "age" part of Nature, we also see how nature impacts Louie in every episode.  When the two cool black comedians introduce Louie to the three attractive girls, they tell the girls Louie is 40.  All three girls laugh at this.  One says, "Oh my god.  Seriously?"  And Louie says.  "I'm actually forty-two, yeah."  Everyone stops smiling.  The vibe is ruined.  Louie has, again, lost to Nature.  

My favorite moment, and I laughed out loud and not just out lout but LOUDLY out loud, was when the one cool black dude is trying to show Louie how to get a girl in a club.  There are a bunch of hand gestures, then the guy approaches a girl who has her back to him.  He puts his hands on her shoulders, talks in her ear, then they go and dance.  It's been obvious since this guy appeared he is confident and awesome.  Louie already knows trying to do the same thing won't go well for him.  But.  Louie plunges into the situation irregardless.  He approaches a girl who has her back to him.  His hands are raised, ready to land on the girl's shoulders.  The girl's friend, facing Louie, screams and points.  The girl Louie had been approaching, turns, screams.  It's like they saw Frankenstein.  Louie has lost to other people, again.  But also to himself, again, because it's nothing more than his looks which have ruined a potentially good scenario for him.  

When Louie enters the comedy club and does 5-minutes of stand-up, we see two things.  One:  that stand-up, while great for other people, is therapy for Louie.  It's how he puts his defeats into perspective and copes with them.  He is able to laugh at everything that happens.  Everything that could otherwise demoralize and shatter him.  Two:  Louie wins.  When Louie is doing his stand-up, he wins.  All he has suffered fuels him and empowers him and gives him not only the courage to stand in front of people and make them laugh, but the material to stand in front of them and make them laugh.  Even after something as brutal as the night Louie has had, he is able to make himself laugh, make other people laugh, and come out on top.  

The show says a lot too about how being a good and loving parent can keep you sane.  Louie, as I've detailed, loses and loses.  But he always wins the love of his two girls.  Louie says in this episode that he is the best masturbator in the world and also a good parent.  These are the two things that he knows, at the end of the day, he has going for him.  So many shows complicate family dynamics.  They create conflict within the family to demonstrate family as polaristic:  simultaneously the greatest frustration while being the greatest fount of joy.  Films and Television shows love this shit.  Brave with its stupid tagline at the end of its trailer of "Family is king".  Everyone knows how important family is.  It's not something I need a movie or a television show to remind me of.  What I love about Louie is how simple it makes the whole thing.  Louie loves his daughters.  Yes, they complicate and frustrate him, but it's not the main source of conflict.  This is a nice change of pace, because not everyone's family is polarized.  People aren't consistently mean to each other then nice-when-it-counts because that's-what-family-is-for.  Instead of simplifying the rest of life and complicating family, Louie is a show that complicates the rest of life and simplifies family.  I can appreciate that.  I think it's an interesting stance to take.  Much in the way of Seinfeld never creating major conflict within the nucleus of Jerry-George-Elaine-Kramer.  

Ending with the camera panning from the dark sky to the dawning sky, with the song talking about a new morning, while cheesy, is also well-done because it's one shot.  Yes, I put that much emphasis on not cutting.  

1x11:  This is the episode where kid-Louie learns about Jesus's crucifixion.  I'm going to go on record and say:  there has never been an episode of television that's more like high-quality literature than this.  When the doctor has kid-Louie hold the nail to his friend's arm and then the doctor yells at Louie to spike the nail into his friend's arm...it's insane.  On the one hand, you know this is Louie!  He could potentially do it.  Wouldn't that be horrific?!?!  On the other, this is Louie.  We see, episode after episode, how "pathetic" he is.  Of course he can't do it.  As an adult, we know Louie is defeated at every turn.  But here we see how early it started.  And maybe even why he is so often reduced to acquiescing.  To go from having kid-Louie so helpless as the doctor yells at him, to kid-Louie "saving" Jesus in the middle of the night...that's powerful.  

This "saving" is, to me, also interesting commentary on Catholicism.  There's so much talk about Jesus suffering and suffering and suffering.  And here the image of him nailed, flesh torn, pierced has spanned generations...why do people continue to leave Jesus in that state of being?  You can see kid-Louie wondering why no one does anything for Jesus.  You could argue, I guess, that had Louie stayed in his Catholic school he would learn more about Jesus's rebirth, etc. etc.  But here the show is presenting us with a quandary:  what does the guilt do for us?  Does it just cow us?  The larger question, in terms of the show:  has Louie ever recovered from the experience?  I guess I'm not taking into consideration what Louie was like BEFORE the crucifix explanation, but we see the trauma it caused.  And we know the type of person Louie becomes:  someone who is hesitant to act, is often debilitated by what he encounters in the world.  

This is the closest TV has come to walking in-step with Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, which is considered one of the best novels ever.  Yes, I'm saying Louie is, in terms of "art", one of the best TV shows ever.  
The Voice:
Season 4, episodes 9 and 10:
I uh...I still don't really "care" about any of the contestants.  I can't remember how I felt during season 2 and 3.  Most of the performances I remember are from knockout rounds and on?  But I still remember enjoying the contestants more than the judges.  So far...I'm watching really just to hear the judges.  I don't think this season is any worse, in terms of talent? Hm.  Usually I'm crushing on five of the girls and emotionally rooting for three people and wanting to be friends with several of the dudes.  Nothing like that so far.  I don't know what the problem is.  It's like...I'm watching and...what am I thinking about...well, all I'm thinking is "Shakira, Shakira, Shakira, Shakira, Shakira".  Maybe that's the problem?  I love Shakira?!

Rurouni Kenshin:
This is the live action Rurouni Kenshin, not the anime.  I've watched the entire anime.  Loved the entire anime.  Can't tell you how excited I was for the live-action film, especially after reading all the positive reviews.

Keep in mind:  I love asian cinema.  I love samurai movies.  I think if I had never watched the anime, knew nothing about the anime, had just watched this movie, I'd be touting it as insanely good and ahead of its time.  Does it have the same depth and societal impact of, say, films by Kurosawa or Gosha or Miyamoto?  Not quite.  But I think it's a unique blend of "masterpiece samurai cinema" with "21st century blockbuster".

There are some cool tensions developed in the film (as in the anime).  The first could resonate with modern America and the gun debate.  Kenshin's central conflict is with his past as a manslayer and his present as someone who has sworn to use his sword to protect but never kill.  Various characters promulgate how a sword's only use is to kill.  With Kenshin sayin he doesn't believe this is true.  The debate about a sword's use and purpose is a reflection then of what is true within a character's heart.  That whole "eye of the beholder" thing, or "guns don't kill people; people kill people".  

What's also cool to me, and is understated in the film, is in the final showdown:  the new manslayer, Jin-e, is using the sword abandoned by Kenshin when he gave up being the "battosai".  And Kenshin is using he "reverse-blade" sword.  We then have a clash between someone who wants to kill and someone who doesn't want to kill, while also having Kenshin's past sword battling his present sword.  

The film goes to lengths to show us that while one era of Japan has ended, thanks to Kenshin's efforts during the revolution, in the first 10 years of this new era everything is still molten.  Power has not solidified.  The defining passions and mindsets are not established.  Kenshin is a symbol of a new mindset.  In the anime: characters didn't just fight characters:  ideologies battled ideologies.  The same is true for the film.  We have Kenshin battling, first, Kanryu, who represents business-minded westernization.  Money, money, money.  Kanryu hilarious makes it rain multiple times throughout the movie.  After Kanryu, there's Jin-e, who embodies not just WHO and WHAT Kenshin was in the previous era (a human slayer/battosai) but also a mindset that transcends eras:  the sword is meant to kill.  

The movie is deep.  The action is awesome.  There is hyper-real bloodshed that is disgusting and cool at the same time.  There's humor.  I think one of my favorite things ever is the fight between Sanosuke and the enemy brawler.  They legitimately brawl, even pausing to eat food and drink wine.  While upstairs Kenshin is fighting the masked-dude with grace  and style.  

People might think Rurouni Kenshin is just a solid, adaptation.  But I think it's some legitimate cinema.  Like.  If Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon is "art" that leans toward "mainstream", then Kenshin is "mainstream" that leans (heavily) toward "art".

Dragon Ball Z Kai:
Episodes 80-98:  In terms of narrative arc, this should be where Dragon Ball Z ends.  We start in the first episode with Gohan demonstrating a mysterious power, and here, by the end of the series, Gohan controls and wields that power.  He uses it to defeat the most vicious enemy the Z fighters have ever faced.  He saves the world.  He transcends his dad and Vegeta.  We have the true "ascended" Saiyan:  Super Saiyan Level 2.

Relating to our idea that DBZ is a giant metaphor for skill mastery, what does Gohan represent?

Generational Transcendence.  The idea that each generation overcomes what the previous generation has done.  If this wasn't true, the world wouldn't be in the state it's in.  We've gone from cowering in caves, to building villages in jungles, to clearing out forests to build towns, to constructing cities, to producing highways, to airplanes, to spaceships to the Internet.  We see, generation after generation, progress.  Gohan acquiring Super Saiyan Level 2 is progress.  He needed Goku to reach Super Saiyan.  That was a watershed moment.  Just like Alexander Bell creating the telephone.  Without the telephone:  no cell phones.  In 1999, Tony Hawk did the first 900 in a skateboarding half-pipe competition.  Within the x-sports industry, this was huge.  No one had ever done it before.  In 2011, Tom Schaar landed a 900.  Tom Schaar was 12.  

We've talked before about the emotional impetus of reaching Super Saiyan.  It's a combination of (time spent training) + (emotional charge).  Goku couldn't go Super Saiyan when he fought Vegeta.  He didn't have the power level.  When he fought Frieza:  he had the power level.  Frieza provided the emotional charge (killing Vegeta and Dende and Krillin).  When Gohan turns Super Saiyan:  it's a combination of (time spent training) + (emotional charge).  Gohan is not only under the duress of defending against his dad's kamehameha attack, he's thinking about all the times he has failed his friends, all the times he was too scared or too weak to make a difference.  Frustrated with himself:  Gohan transforms.  

This is important.  Failure fueled him.  Many of us are scared to fail.  But DBZ characters fail all the time.  In fact, Saiyans grow stronger after recovering from near death situations.  We talked about that in Viewing Diary 1.  Steve Jobs failed and became stronger because of it.  

When Gohan transforms the second time...Well, it's not due to Cell kicking his ass.  Cell is beating Gohan.  Torturing him.  Attempting to force transcendency out of Gohan.  It doesn't work.  Gohan could have died.  The difference comes from one factor:  other people being hurt.  Not just those Gohan loves:  Krillin is being beaten, Goku, Vegeta, Trunks, Yamcha, Tien, Piccolo.  But also Android 16.  When Android 16 tells Gohan to let go and protect the world...something clicks in Gohan's mind.  
The applicable thing to take away, the thing you can apply to your own life, is this:  Gohan has made a choice.  The speech Android 16 makes is about "letting go".  Once Gohan stops hesitating, once he makes the decision to stop restraining himself, to stop depending on other people, TO give everything he has:  he transcends.  

The same thing happened with Goku when he went Super Saiyan.  He went from being hesitant involving Frieza to being fully committed.

People complain that Vegeta should have been the one to defeat Cell.  That if Gohan had the fuel to transform, why didn't Vegeta after Trunks was wasted? If the characters are nothing more than embodiments of real people, Vegeta is the person who wants skill for the sake of skill.  Goku and Gohan embody skill for the sake of others.  Piccolo acquires power through merging with others.  He merges with Nail and with Kame, each time become as powerful as Goku/Vegeta (but always a step behind).  Which means Piccolo embodies the power of the group, of individuals merging into a larger entity (think of a corporation).  Vegeta's emotion is self-fueling.  And what we see with Gohan, when Cell is beating him near to death, self-interest is a weak motivator.  The true motivation for greatness is other people.  A single parent doesn't work so fucking hard for their own gains but so they can support their children.  An athlete who is chasing glory will never be as successful as the athlete who is inspired by those around them.  Sure you can get powerful like Vegeta, but that only takes you so far.  This is why Vegeta, despite being so fucking cool, never wins the day.  His behavior, his mindset, his outlook:  they aren't suited to long-term victory.  The major difference between Goku and Gohan:  passion.  

Which means the entirety of Dragon Ball Z comes down to one thing:  Passion. 

The strongest characters in the show have more passion for fighting/skill-building than the weaker characters.  Yamcha and Tien and Krillin mean well, but they don't have the same sense of purpose as Goku, Gohan, Piccolo, Vegeta, Frieza, Cell, Trunks.  

To that end, of that group, Gohan has the most passion for those around him.  It's fitting then that Cell is the ultimate enemy.  Cell doesn't lack passion, but he lacks any and all concern for other people.  He is, in a sense, Perfect Vegeta.  Vegeta is self-centered, much like Cell, but Vegeta secretly cares a lot about people.  Wanting to kill Goku isn't necessarily a good thing, but it does mean he cares about something.  Cell is entirely self-centered/Cell-centered (couldn't resist).  He's "perfect".  So you have the Ultimate Narcissist versus the Ultimate Empathist.  

It makes sense that the next enemy is Buu.  With Buu being the Ultimate Nihilist.  

I'd like to point out the movie For Love of the Game is pretty much the same message.  Kevin Costner pitches a perfect game because he is fueled by his memories of love.  It's the combination of skill and passion.  

The ultimate point is, though, that passion most be developed and committed.  Gohan had the potential. If he had never trained, he wouldn't have had the necessary skill level to fight Cell.  If he hadn't committed to using that power, he wouldn't have been able to defeat Cell.  Even at the very end, during the kamehameha back and forth, Gohan is holding back.  He's worried about hurting the planet.  Goku has to tell Gohan:  stop worrying, the Earth will be okay, we can fix it with the Dragon Balls, let go.  Gohan then unleashes his last bit of hesitation.  His kamehameha defeats Cell's, obliterates Cell.

You could have all the skill and ability, but if you're not committed...you won't win.  Someone who is more committed will win.  You see it with athletes all the times.  Look at the "contract year".  When money is on the line:  the athlete steps up and performs.  Why?  Because the athlete knows it matters.  They're fueled by a desire for money.  They perform.  They succeed.  They get paid.  Then what happens?  They aren't so committed to the sport.  They are spending the money.  Going out.  Their efforts are diffused.  They achieve much less than they could have.  But the athletes who commit to every game, to every play, for their entire careers...they're the ones in the Hall of Fame.  Vegeta, because of his commitment, is still a Hall of Fame player.  Will he set any records?  No.  

So. There.  Dragon Ball Z is the ultimate story on skill building.  And the two key components of skill building are passion and commitment.  Even Cell was committed.  

That's the thing.  We can't just commit once.  We have to commit all the time.  That's where the DBZ fantasy ends and real life begins.  We don't have a Cell about to blow up the world.  We don't have hyperbolic time chambers.  We aren't ideals made for entertainment.  We are people with crushing problems, with infinite distractions.  We must overcome our problems, we must disregard distraction.  We must, every moment, find a way to maintain the fire and commit.  It's fucking hard.  It's fitting though that Gohan was, at the very end, worried about the planet.  Because that's what true passion and true commitment do: they change the world.  

Now, with all of this in mind, watch the three videos below.  You'll see exactly what I'm talking about.  

Mortimer

Gertrud:
I'm 99% certain Carl Dreyer made a bad (or even mediocre) film in his lifetime, but as of now, I haven't seen it. I really thought Gertrud had a legitimate shot, as I can see it's held in much lower regard as his other films, and it ended up being his final film, nine years after the much-beloved Ordet

But I'll be damned. Gertrud is pretty much as beautiful as any Dreyer film. I even think it's better than Vampyr, which I've always found pretty overrated.

It is easily the most colorful black-and-white film I've ever seen. Seriously, look at that picture above! Nothing was an accident with Dreyer, and that shot (along with every fucking moment of juxtaposition in the film) reinforces an idea of exclusivity, loneliness, and the doomed search for "love". 

"Love" is in quotations because Gertrud is unable to pinpoint what exactly love it. Even the psychiatrist--who seems perfect for her, by the way--can't seem to hit the right buttons. She's unsure of herself, quick to judge, quick to abandon, distant, cold, and loving. But most important, she's a human being. Dreyer crafted beautiful feminist tales because he understood these tragic flaws shaped real people. That's why Gertrud--an incredibly straightforward and simple film--is so gorgeous to witness.


I think I could write an essay on the various angles and props and placement of characters in this film and how it portrays Gertrud's relationship with each man, but I think my head may explode from trying to do so (plus, you know, I'm lazy). 


Commando:
What the hell is going on? Why am I watching all of these crazy 80s action flicks? And why oh why am I gaining respect for (*gulp*) Arnold Schwarzenegger?

(Modigliani here:  just wanting to say:  Arnold made some awesome movies.  There'd be a problem if you didn't have respect for him.  Now, get to the chopper, you beautiful motherfucka. (I know, it's "you're one ugly motherfucka", but I can't call Mort ugly.  Have you seen his glorious facial hair?  Oh, now I just read the next paragraph, and we both used the word "awesome".  Nice.))

In order: awesomeness, because they're awesome, because he's awesome.

I don't watch action flicks very often (I'm starting to sound like a broken record (and soon I WON'T be able to say it anymore)). But my roommate and I's weekly drunken Wednesday nights are turning into the Arnold Hour, and I honestly can't believe what I've been missing.

Let me paint a picture. I went out drinking last Saturday afternoon (as most Chicago Bulls fans do to prepare for inevitable disappointment), and AFTER THEY WON (they were down by 14 with 3:16 left), we went on a drunken rant about movies. We started talking about Predator and how the Predator was the "ultimate man" and a reflection of the male dominance scenarios at play; we talked about how Total Recall was a meta-action movie that starred Arnold because he was the most bankable action star in the industry; I even think everyone let me ramble on about how incredible Elizabeth Berkley is in Showgirls at one point. I assumed we were the loud people at the bar that everyone hated. But as soon as we got up to leave, somebody said, "Don't go! If you leave, the IQ in this bar will go way down!"

I'm not bragging (OR AM I). But. I don't think people are used to talking about these action films academically. And it's a shame. Schwarzenegger is one of the most influential and important actors in the history of film, and it doesn't have much to do with his mediocre acting abilities. Arnold was a team player who realized movies were much bigger and more important than the stars slapped across the movie posted. Take this interview with Paul Verhoeven, director of Total Recall:

"Arnold has no ego. You can say anything to him. In fact, during his first day on the set [of Total Recall] he sat me down and told me, 'I won't be offended if you talk to me in a direct manner. Say what you feel'. That made it easy, because I wouldn't have to be diplomatic and say, 'Arnold, could you perhaps move over here and give me a different angle?' I could just go, 'Arnold, this is bad. You look stupid!'"

Knowing Arnold's flexability made Commando that much better. You can appreciate Commando for just being goofy, cheesy 80s fun. You can laugh at the over-abundance of macho-ness. You can throw your arms up in the air and say "what the fuck" when Arnold tosses about twenty security guards off his body.

But (and I think I'm old enough to say this now): they just don't make action movies like this anymore. They do not. Period. How many action movies are this self-aware (constant close-ups of Arnold's bulging muscles), this willing to have fun, and this intimate? Intimacy, in fact, is the biggest rarity these days. Action movies have to be spectacles with machine guns and robots. They have to be epic and cover social ground. And once in a blue moon you'll a Raid: Redemption--but even that movie is plagued by boring and forced drama, which is unfortunate because most of the characters are hollow.

No, with Commando we truly have a film we may never see replicated. Studios won't pay for a movie like this. And that's too bad. I honestly feel like I spent an evening with Arnold, and, well, that just makes me smile.
Viridiana:
I love Luis Buñuel. LOVE him. I think The Exterminating Angel is truly one of a kind. The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie is one of the best (and one of the funniest) movies of the 1970s. 

But, I've gotta say, his snarky "fuck you" attitude is tough to deal with sometimes. Maybe it depends on my mood. And he's not even directly attacking the audience most of the time, like Michael Haneke or Jean Luc-Godard. But Viridiana really rubbed me the wrong way.

Don't get me wrong--it's great. Wonderful. Beautiful. Has one of the greatest shots/scenes in the history of cinema (see photo above). I'm all about giving the finger to the elite, the politicians, and--in Viridiana's case--the Catholic Church. And if there is one, I'll give Buñuel a high-five in heaven (or maybe hell, after this movie).

Viridiana was made after the Spanish dictator Francisco Franco invited the formerly exiled Buñuel back into his home country. Unsurprisingly, Buñuel didn't cater to the man who believed he was doing a good deed, but instead created a film of oppression and alarming honesty about the Catholic. As Ed Gonzalez of Slant Magazine writes of Viridiana (our main character):

"An outraged Buñuel doesn't so much attack a saint's good intentions as much as her naivete and unwillingness to realize that the world is incapable of appreciating them."

And I get it. I don't think Buñuel's intentions are hard to grasp. But what makes him so great, of course, is the world he builds around those societal attacks. In this case, Viridiana is a tiny bit of a letdown for me. Instead of building Viridiana as a human being, she seems more of a tragic vessel to hold Buñuel's feelings. I like Discreet Charm and Exterminating Angel so much because of the world built within. The people interact, gain personality, and it all lends towards the elitism that Buñuel despises.

In Viridiana, many of the moments that are meant to parallel Viridiana's suppressed lifestyle exist on their own plane. There's a gorgeous scene where Jorge releases a dog from its painstaking life attached to a carriage, only for another dog in the same predicament to pass by. The cycle of life is inevitable in this case--the Church will continue to entrance new members and employ them as mindless slaves.

There's also a bit of hypocrisy in this moment for Jorge, as he tells Viridiana, "You can't save everyone." A personification of the Church's grasp, he himself craves such a power, but not for the poor, rowdy folks Viridiana blindly loves and attempts to shelter. This rambunctious group produces the photo above, resembling The Last Supper (I'm sure you can draw the religious connections at this point, even if you haven't seen the film, right?). Their place in this moment is no coincidence, as Gonzalez once again points out:

"It doesn't attack Christianity as an institution but its failure to truly and imaginatively connect with the people it seeks to help."

Perhaps the intentions are just too broad for my taste. I completely understand Buñuel (and most definitely agree with him) in this case, but I prefer him to be a bit more contained. After all, The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie could take place entirely in a single dream for all I know. I've come to accept Buñuel is much smarter than me--I just wish he didn't have to resort to tricks to prove it.
Devi (The Goddess):
This is actually my first Satyajit Ray film. Not even sure I've seen Indian film that wasn't made in the last ten years (Slumdog Millionaire doesn't count, you fuckers). If you haven't seen a Ray film yourself, this honestly seems like an awesome place to start (or at least something from this bulk of his career).

The film is about a woman named Dayamoyee, who's role as a mother and a caregiver is suddenly upended when her father-in-law has a dream that "reveals" Dayamoyee to be an avatar of a goddess. Soon people are worshiping Dayamoyee and, before long, she begins to believe it herself.

I watched this on YouTube (which I'm honestly not a fan of doing, but I make exceptions when I have no other options), and something strange happened...possibly the first time I've ever experienced it: I read an intelligent YouTube comment.

*Audience gasps*

I know, right? Anyway, here it is:

"The gods are personifications of subtle energies which exist in us all. Worshiping these deities is worshiping the very essence of the self. These subtle essences may become embodied in an individual when the Kleshas have ceased and the mind has been stilled."

And although I do find this statement to be very acute, I think it may also be missing the point. I don't see Dayamoyee's acceptance of her endowment to be "finding herself". I don't think this comment implies that Dayamoyee did indeed have powers, but it also seems to be attaching optimism to the idea that Dayamoyee can still her mind and discover "the very essence of the self."

Perhaps the idea expressed by the commenter is a mindset sought after in the Hindu society (forgive my ignorance), and I can get on board with that. But knowing the very little I know about Satyajit Ray, I think Dayamoyee's predicament is much more complex (and much more tragic) than that. While I believe The Goddess is an attack on silly superstitions within the Hindu society, I also think there's a dangerous mix of religion and gender politics at play. Dayamoyee is under-appreciated as a wife and as a mother, and she only gains importance once she's granted "powers". By lending Dayamoyee more freedom and worship, she's actually imprisoned in her role, thus the scene where she and Umaprasad are unable to flee from home. She herself begins to wonder if she has power, reflecting the restricting power religion can hold over one individual. Even when people believe they understand Dayamoyee as a person, they're really only seeing her as a Goddess. In a sense, she's been objectified. She's nothing more than a vessel for they're wants and needs--pretty much (as a woman) what she was in the first place.
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<![CDATA[Mortimer Granville: Inquiry 3: How "Spring Breakers" and "Showgirls" are comments on the classic rise-and-fall stories of Hollywood]]>Wed, 01 May 2013 17:01:27 GMThttp://www.modigmovie.com/1/post/2013/05/mortimer-granville-inquiry-3-how-spring-breakers-and-showgirls-are-comments-on-the-classic-rise-and-fall-stories-of-hollywood.html
Paul Verhoeven was the master of big-budget satires. From our dependence on technology (RoboCop) to anti-imperialism (Starship Troopers), Verhoeven wasn't in the business berating recycled Hollywood tropes through his films, but rather critiquing the industry through embellishment. He loved all the cheesy spectacles that did indeed have a place in film, but had, for the most part, been cast aside by millions of turned-up noses. In his attempt to Hollywood-ize his films to make them accessible to all, he alienated viewers and critics because they were uncomfortable with the satire hitting so close to home. As Eric Henderson (Slant Magazine) wrote for his Showgirls piece:

"Most prefer satire when it's dealing with the distant past to the extent that one can feel morally superior to the subject of ridicule without recognizing oneself in the mix."
In regards to Showgirls, this simply could not be more true. While many were able to realize the film's larger satirical observations on the film industry, Showgirls also directly dealt with our relationship with the characters of rise-and-fall stories. Because we were part of the problem (more on that later), a backlash ensued.

Many regard Total Recall as one of Verhoeven's lesser films, but really the satire runs so deep in Total Recall that it seems as though Verhoeven is in a battle with himself in creating a film absolutely drenched in the Hollywood formula. In his attempt to embellish American consumerism, Verhoeven chose to dress the film with blatant product placements (Coca-Cola, Fujifilm), mini-malls, faux-vacation technology, and, of course, the most bankable star in the industry (at the time): Arnold Schwarzenegger.

With that in mind, it's no surprise that Elizabeth Berkley—fresh off the after-school special known as Saved by the Bell and destined to suffer the flailing career of a teenage celebrity—came to star in Showgirls. And knowing Harmony Korine's distaste for Hollywood and traditional storytelling, it's no surprise that this generation's batch of teenage celebrities are the stars of Spring Breakers


People:
The guy who hates Hollywood/writer and director: Harmony Korine
The innocent Disney star/the brunette/Faith: Selena Gomez
The rising teenage stars/the blondes/Candy and Brit: Vanessa Hudgens and Ashley Benson
The independent star/the one with pink hair/Cotty: Rachel Korine
The personification of Hollywood/Alien: James Franco


What It's Good For:
-an incredible performance from Franco
-a comment on the rise-and-fall stories of Hollywood
-condemning the industry for objectifying rising stars
-a soundtrack that makes Skrillex sound poetic/gain actual purpose
-growth for Harmony Korine as a storyteller
-helping Harmony Korine's career gain more recognition


Potential Pitfalls:
-severely mismarketed; not the fun affair depicted in trailers; very slow, liquid narrative
-lots and lots of nudity (especially in the first few minutes)
-lots and lots of cursing
-lots and lots of deaths near the end
-you hate Harmony Korine (you wouldn't be alone)


My Assessment:
Think of all of the failed careers after being a child star, both men and women. There just isn't enough room for all of them, is there? I mean, hell, look at the Harry Potter cast. Emma Watson may be the only one from the bunch with a legitimate shot in the industry (I'm hoping Daniel Radcliffe just sticks with Broadway). 

Although I wouldn't be against a sequel to Thunderpants...

Anyway, child/teenage stars are no strangers to ridicule in Hollywood, as many of their highly publicized careers have devolved into porn, drugs, crime, unexpectedly flashing your crotch at the paparazzi, whipping your dick out at a movie theater, [insert career-ending/rock-bottom stunt here]. But, more often than not, careers simply whimper out. For every Shia LiBeouf, there's a couple dozen Christy Carlson Romanos. For every Leonardo, there are some crazy Kirks. For every Hilary Duff, there's a crystal meth addicted LaLaine.

And, if you don't count what Mario Lopez does as "acting" (or "work"), not a single member of Saved by the Bell went on to have serious movie careers (although you could always just write an INSANE BOOK if film isn't panning out for ya).

I should probably note: Spring Breakers and Showgirls aren't giant metaphors for Macaulay Culkin and Lindsay Lohan, aka the rise and fall of teenage stars. Characters aren't necessarily defined by where they're standing at a certain camera angle. Rather, both Verhoeven and Korine (each in their own way) are attacking the lie sold to up-and-coming, aspiring stars of the industry. The happiness accompanied rising to the top. The dream glamorized on the television and movie screen. 

In fact, you can probably find the word "dream" preached (or perhaps muttered during the inevitable downfall sequence) several times during any film of this nature. David Lynch was no stranger to attacking Hollywood's mistreatment of its stars, which he did most prominently and directly in Mulholland Dr. The oh-so-naive Betty is absolutely beaming early in the film, saying:

"I couldn't afford a place like this in a million years...unless, of course, I'm discovered and become a movie star. Of course, I'd rather be known as a great actress than a movie star. But, you know, sometimes people end up being both. So that is, I guess you'd say, sort of why I came here. I'm sorry. I'm just so excited to be here. I mean I just came here from Deep River, Ontario, and now I'm in this dream place. Well, you can imagine how I feel."
The fact that we can imagine how she feels, despite our ignorance of what it takes to rise in the movie industry, is living proof of how misleading and detrimental such a lie is to aspiring actors and actresses. And keeping in line with David Lynch's distaste for Hollywood and its restrictive nature, Betty's "career" proves to be nothing more than a sham, a spectacle—an actual dream.

As mentioned earlier, Verhoeven cared deeply about how American critics reacted to his films, but also wasn't afraid to call them out on their bullshit:
"American critics always complain about the blandness of mainstream movies, but when you do something more ambiguous and ironic, they are pissed off too. I like putting certain aspects of American society under the magnifying glass and showing them for what they are."
Verhoeven was neither in the business of belittling critics or shying away from them, but instead inviting them to realize that we are all part of the problem (and considering a movie critic's ego may be bigger than any other, it was a career-long struggle). In regards to the historically lambasted Showgirls (by many considered one of the worst movies of all time), the biggest crime on moviegoers' part wasn't scoffing at Verhoeven for his embracement of sexuality and unabashed nudity, but for supporting the perverse spectacle Verhoeven sought to exploit. As Eric Henderson notes from film critic Adrian Martin:
"Offended critics...are reacting not to the fact that they've been punished for wanting titties (after all, the titties are there and they are spectacular), but that they're being more slyly punished for wanting Nomi to succeed (or fail, as the case were) specifically because it will fulfill their preconceived notions of the archetypes of wish fulfillment."
Critics constantly berate Hollywood for its lack of creativity and its repeated use of tropes. However, when it comes to a film that evaluates those tropes by taking them to the extreme (Total Recall, Showgirls), they immediately backpedal. They have, in fact, become accustomed "rise" and "fall" portions of rise-and-fall stories, and they're unable to see how incredibly tragic it is that Nomi learns absolutely nothing from her trip to Las Vegas.

"Did you win?" asks Jeff while driving away from the City of Dreams (of all places!). 

Nomi nods.

"What did you win?"

"Me."

But what did she really win"The dream" rears its ugly head and punishes everybody in the protagonist's path—as it always seems to during films that critique rise-and-fall stories in Hollywood (Mulholland Dr., Sunset Blvd.)—yet there's promise and giddiness in the shot where Nomi drives down the highway and Verhoeven pans up to Nomi's "Goddess" billboard. It's a false victory—a faux sense of catharsis that betrays every contradicting lesson her drive for stardom has taught her.

If this was indeed the ending's intention, and if there is indeed a lie being sold to rising stars, and if the viewer is indeed part of the problem in embracing and reselling that lie, then Elizabeth Berkley's role is undeniably a prototype for that tragic figure cast aside by Hollywood. Fresh off the Saved by the Bell train and attempting to create a name for herself, Berkley's career almost needed to fail if Showgirls' satirical observations were to hold up twenty years ahead—a time and place where rising teenage celebrities face as much ridicule and hardship as the batch from Berkley's generation.

You can look at the now 74-year-old director's interview with JoBlo and read his comments about current Hollywood films (including the 2012 disgrace of a remake of his Total Recall): "It’s all completely nonsense. It’s not about anything that has any reality to it, unless you fill it in. And you have to put your own personality into it." Verhoeven loved Hollywood for the props and stories it had to offer, but he also understood that Hollywood could be better. He believed a sense of reality needed to be pumped into movies, and Showgirls was the campy centerpiece of that very idea.

So we can look at films like Showgirls and Total Recall, and see that Verhoeven had a fascination with Hollywood that directly influenced and altered the course of his films. So what is Harmony Korine's relationship with Hollywood, and how does it affect his films? From the white-trash imbued Gummo, to the blatantly Hollywood idolizing/condemning Mister Lonely, to his current deprecation of lies sold to young actors and actress Spring Breakers?

You don't need to search the Internet for very long to find a Hollywood-related quote from Korine. Just take this interview where he says:
"When I look at the history of film - the early commercial narrative movies directed by D.W. Griffith, say - and then look at where films are now, I see so little progression in the way they are made and presented, and I'm bored with that. Film can be so much more."
Later in that interview, Korine goes on to say that only auteurist works matter to him (considering his influences are Terrence Malick and Werner Herzog):
"The worst thing for it would be this kind of indifference that I feel toward almost all other filmmakers. I have total disdain for almost all other filmmakers because they give me nothing that I want to see. They give me nothing that's true. They only give me process and lies. They just make the wrong moves and, again, I have nothing to do with them, and I'm not part of any kind of movement. I'm my own, and to me there's no great history of American new wave. There's only specific maverick, patriot type independent directors, maybe John Cassavettes and Sam Peckinpah, a few people, and that's more my lineage."
Verhoeven's influences were straight out of Hollywood—your Alfred Hitchcocks, your David Leans, your linear storytellers. Korine's influences obviously aided in crafting his free-form narrative style (it pretty much apes Terrence Malick), but they also created a "disdain" for Hollywood and the conventional storytelling. While Verhoeven obsessed over Hollywood and believed it could be better, we see that Korine has no hope for the industry. Verhoeven saw room to grow, but Korine saw nothing but restriction:
"How can an artist be expected not to be self-indulgent? That's the whole thing that's wrong with filmmaking today. Ninety nine percent of the films you see do not qualify as works of art. To me, art is one man's voice, one idea, one point-of-view, coming from one person. Self-indulgent to me means it's one man's obsession. That's what great artists bring to the table. When fucking critics or whatever say, 'he's self-indulgent,' I don't know what that means. The reason I stopped watching films is because so many people lack any kind of self-indulgence. But I don't believe in being boring."
So knowing Korine's obvious hatred for an industry Paul Verhoeven continually tried to reach out to in his films, we can look at Spring Breakers and see the similarities between it and Showgirls, but also see that Korine's attack on Hollywood was much more drastic and foreboding.

The most obvious (and most important) similarity is the cast. Elizabeth Berkley was the goody-two shoes from Saved by the Bell whose worst moment was becoming temporarily addicted to pain pills. Otherwise, it was nothing but four years of squeaky-cleanness for her character Jessie Spano, until Berkley shocked the world when she dry humped (and later hump humped) Kyle MacLachlan in Showgirls. As explained earlier, her first big role being a flop and her lack of legitimate roles thereafter keeps in line with the general image of teenage celebrities failing in the industry. But Berkley's failure wasn't Verhoeven's fault—our inability to recognize the genius of her role and performance in a film that's directly critiquing the audience is what truly destroyed her career. For a film dissecting the rise-and-fall stories of Hollywood, Berkley became the perfect prototype for Verhoeven.

Knowing Korine's relationship with Hollywood, it's no coincidence that independent actors (Samantha Morton, Chloë Sevigny, Ewen Bremner, Diego Luna) have starred in his past films. So it probably came as a shock when Selena Gomez, Vanessa Hudgens, and Ashley Benson—the stars of Wizards of Waverly Place, High School Musical, and Pretty Little Liars—were cast in the new Harmony Korine flick. In addition, we have Harmony's wife Rachel Korine—with a few independent films under her belt—playing a somewhat detached role outside this band of Disney stars. Perhaps most surprising was that Korine's new film was not about white trash podunks or disease affecting families or people humping trash, but instead a film about the epitome of America's current aimless generation: spring break.

Korine has acknowledged a strange fascination with spring break, calling it an "American cultural phenomenon" and a "right of passage" for youth culture. Much like Hollywood and the film industry, spring break is glamorized on the screen, full of kids having a good time, aka gettin' drunk and gettin' laid. That image (indicated by the repeated statement, "spring break bitches") is what's sought after by these four girls. 

First and foremost, both Verhoeven and Korine established the "dream" associated with Hollywood. For Verhoeven, it's establishing Nomi's misdirection in life. Stripped of a family and left to wander the endless west coast highways, an image of Las Vegas' sign displaying a population of "342" says a lot about the exclusivity of the film industry and the difficulty of breaking in. "You gotta gamble if you're gonna win," Jeff says as they pull into Vegas. Nomi is unperturbed, clearly fueled by nothing but misguided ambition and a shallow need to succeed and become famous. "I'm gonna win," she responds, foreshadowing a constantly and drastically up-and-down lifestyle that Nomi never seems to learn from. 

The first thing Nomi does in Vegas is test her luck on the slot machines. She wins big immediately—what a magical place! But a quick cut reveals Nomi to lose all of her money soon afterwards. Even when Nomi "wins" (foreshadowing the final line), it's clear she hasn't learned a goddamned thing. What does this loss do to her drive? Absolutely nothing. She is soon gambling with her career in order to rise quickly to the top. She's in a constant state of denial, ignoring the grim signs the "City of Dreams" keeps tossing at her. There is only flashing lights, extravagant dancing, endless opportunities—there is only the biggest show in Vegas: "Goddess".

Spring Breakers opens with an elongated sequence of titties and ass—bright beach landscapes splashed with yellows and pinks, booze pouring into mouths, and girls ripping off their bikinis while Skrillex buzzes in the background. There are nothing but smiles on these kids' faces. There is nothing but bliss associated with spring break by the MTVs of the world. This is a magical place these four girls must find.

Breaking out of the teenybopper scene and shifting into a world of mature and challenging roles, Gomez, Hudgens, and Benson become prototypes for such a hardship. Spring break, just like Hollywood, looks glamorous and inviting and promises a bright future. And much like Nomi's moment at the slot machine, the vision is realized, and then immediately stripped away. Faith (Gomez) tells her grandmother that spring break is the "most spiritual place I've ever been....It feels as if the world is perfect. Like it's never going to end." This level of attachment to a place Faith has literally been at for one day is a scary realization of how shallow their collective attraction is. 

Their misconception of the horrid realities of spring break is exemplified in a paralleled moment featuring a robbery and a reenactment of the robbery. Candy's sense of reality is clearly warped through mass media influences, as she attempts to motivate her robbing companions by saying, "Just pretend you're in a video game. Act like you're in a fucking movie." What follows is a quiet sequence shot from Cotty's (Rachel Korine) car, as Candy and Brit smash dishes and force people to the floor in order to steal their money. We hear nothing, and only see the robbery taking place. Cotty remains calmly in the car and celebrates with the girls afterwards. Once at spring break, this shot is brought to life for Cotty as Candy and Brit retell it, forcing Cotty to the ground to physically experience the horror she was sheltered from inside her car. Korine cuts between shots of Candy and Brit's jarring recreation and the actual, formerly unseen robbery. Here we have two images of the industry: what's depicted on the screen from a safe distance, and experiencing the scary reality.

It's in these moments we actually start to see some differentiation between each of these characters' and their roles in depicting the rise-and-fall storyline, and it seems to directly coincide with their real-life counterparts. Hudgens has already begun her sidle into Hollywood, starring in slightly raunchier features like Sucker Punch, while Benson has broken into the industry through not-so-innocent television shows such as The O.C. and Pretty Little Liars. They're each primed for a seemingly breakthrough role, ready to capture the dream. They've tested themselves beyond their Disney reputation, and the robbery was just another step toward realizing their trip to spring break. "It's the best way to live," Candy says to a terrified Faith after they finish recreating their robbery. "You'll have all this money and all this power." 

Faith, who still candidly clutches onto her faith in God and her Church life, is nerved by the recreation of the robbery. Before the dream seemed "perfect" and spring break was a "spiritual place". But now, as reality and doubt settles in, Faith's real-life counterpart Selena Gomez displays a similar predicament. After all, Gomez's most daring film so far has been Horton Hears a Who!, and her role in such a sexy feature is quite the leap. Witnessing the darker side of the industry could very well drive her away.

Rachel Korine, already a star in a few Harmony Korine films, Rachel Korine embodies a somewhat seasoned individual that has gone through the motions. But notice how she's never a part of Candy and Brit's sinister games. She's the lookout for the robbery; she is absent when Candy and Brit bang Alien; and, most importantly, the moment she gets shot ends her trip to spring break. She's an independent star with no place in Hollywood's sick, self-servicing games.

And, of course, we can't forget about Alien (played by James Franco), who essentially becomes all of Nomi's teachers friends, and rivals (Cristal, James, Al, and Tony) all rolled up into one. He is the one that bails them out of jail and temporarily suspends their downward spiral. He is their ticket out of squalor, he is their ticket into the "beautiful" perks of spring break. He can show them the ropes (James), he can provide them with jobs to realize their dreams (Al and Tony), and he is the top dog in the industry (Cristal). And Alien, as the man in charge of the industry, is there with the smooth talk and compliments, creating a fairy-tale-esque aura about them while objectifying them in a scene where he makes a camera with his fingers and poetically states:

"It must be a fucking dream
These three girls in front of me
How can this be?
They're like three mermaids come up from the sea
Close my eyes, every time I look
They're like old-fashioned bitches straight out of a book"

Here we have four girls: one brunette, two blondes, and one with pink hair. After being arrested for drinking underage,  we can see their individual reactions and how their separate groupings reflect their real-life counterparts. "This can't be the end of the dream," says one of the girls (it's hard to tell), indicating that jail definitely does not coincide with their magical, spiritual perception of spring break. But upon meeting Alien, who could be their spiritual guide through such a journey, their reactions tell the story.

First we have the brunette, a virgin to the society's dark underbelly (no robberies on her record), and hesitant about following Alien down an unknown path. 

"This is not what we came here for. We came here to have fun," a sobbing Faith tells her friends as Alien's hoodlum posse rambunctiously prances around and forces her into a game of 8-ball. But Faith's attempt to guide her friends back home is a losing battle, as Alien has already enamored the other three girls (they gleefully pile in the backseat of his car, while Faith scowls and sits with her arms folded in front). All he needs to do is show off the materialistic portions of spring break these girls have been accustomed to through the screen: the nice cars, the bling, the wealthy lifestyle ("I'm fucking made of money! Look at my teeth!!"). Faith, however, requires some psychological tampering.

"Your name's Faith? Does that mean you got faith? You believe in God? You pray a lot? You praying for your girlfriends? I was just thinking—maybe you did all that praying and I'm the answer to your prayers...you was all in trouble, and here I am."

Preying on Faith's morals, Alien's scumbag move reflects much of the manipulation practiced on Nomi in Showgirls. The misguiding promises and the self-servicing lies, all of which are aimed at procuring these unknowing girls for an industry they hold a fairy-tale view of. Faith, however, has been burned by spring break through her arrest—an incredibly similar idea expressed through Molly's dark realization in Showgirls. Molly is enamored by Andrew, bewitched by his good looks and his celebrity status, thus she unknowingly puts her trust in a man that eventually rapes her.

"If you go home, you're gonna be thinking, 'Hmm, maybe I missed something out there,'" Alien says to Faith, but she's already seen the ugly truth of the industry. "You're gonna go, but your friends are gonna star with me," he says much more sinisterly. Girls are used and objectified, and then tossed out for the next rising star. If you can't fill the shoes, then other aspiring talent will. She would have to compromise her morals (her faith in God) to remain at spring break—a dilemma Candy, Brit, and Cotty (and Nomi) have no problem ignoring for the time being. Thus, Faith departs on her bus, leaving spring break.

Cotty (the out-of-place girl with pink hair) is constantly excluded from Candy and Brit's games. While she was messing with boys in earlier scenes, flashing her boobs and teasing their dicks ("You're never gonna get this pussssssy"), Candy and Brit were quietly sleeping in bed together, dreaming of something bigger. In these moments, we can see the two images of Spring Break—the image sold on the screen, and the mystery that lies beyond. Cotty is content with spring break's underlings—with their chiseled abs and horny aspirations, these boys are just glimpses into the industry. Small roles that lead to larger goals. But once with Alien, the pink-haired girl is separated from the two blondes. France writes a pretty "poem" about the three of them as a group, but only two of the girls are willing to work for stardom. They're willing to kiss Alien, indulge his mind games, show off their bodies, and eventually sleep with him. Cotty, on the other hand, remains on the periphery, still toying with Alien's posse and remaining stagnant on the ladder.

Cotty is, just like Faith, burned once the fire ignites. We soon meet Archie (played by Gucci Mane?!) who is fighting for control of the territory with Alien. Archie also employs many girls in his posse (he owns a strip club, after all), and wishes to recruit members who will aid in his robberies. Cotty does perform some robberies with Candy and Brit, but Alien and Archie's battle over the rising stars (which could easily be compared with Al and Tony's separate reigns in Showgirls) soon produces its first causality. Suddenly in the mix of a lifestyle Candy and Brit have been subjected to privately through Alien, Cotty realizes how expendable and vulnerable she's become once she's shot during Archie's drive-by. Thus, we receive the same shot of Faith on the bus, but this time with Cotty in her place, escaping an industry that did not live up to (or perhaps went beyond) her expectations.

And then we're left with Candy and Brit—blonde, attached at the hip, and (just like in the real world) primed for a blooming career in Hollywood. Korine's clear disgust for mainstream Hollywood may shine through here more than ever, because these two girls become more confident than Alien before the final shootout with Archie. There's an insane scene where Alien is showing off all of his guns, clothing and jewelry ("This is the fuckin' American dream! This is my fuckin' dream, y'all!! All this sheeeeeyit!!!"), controlling the situation and attempting to seduce Candy and Brit. But in a turn of events, the two blondes pull out one of Alien's guns and force him to his knees. "Suck it," they say, forcing Alien to go down on his own gun. It's a power shift that suddenly swaps the roles: Alien is now at these girls' mercy, calling them his "soul mates".

"Scaredy pants," Candy repeats while their ménage à trois eerily reflects Nomi's moment with Zack in Showgirls. "Yeah, I'm real scared," he finally admits, revealing a sudden hesitancy on the boss' part. This moment is much different than Showgirls, where the owner sits above the stars as they eliminate one another. No, this time Korine's feelings leak into the moment and foreshadow a much different trajectory. Thus, Candy and Brit's victory vs. Nomi's victory shed very different lights. Both, however, are equally depressing. Each of these girls have compromised their morals and standards in order to achieve such a high status: for Nomi it's starring in "Goddess", and for Candy and Brit it's making it through the entirety of spring break. But while Nomi's faux victory is fueled by a continual denial of the industry's ugly truths, Candy and Brit's victory is one of conquering the system. Nomi wins, but she also believes she's become a better person while getting there, despite having to shove Cristal down the stairs and sacrificing her friends in the process. But Candy and Brit have chosen to take a lesson away from their trip and escape the ugly world of spring break:

"I feel different for some reason. I feel changed, like I just wanna be a good girl now. I wanna be happy and have fun. I think that's the secret to life—being a good person."

And then we have Candy's conversation with her mom. It holds the same aura and emotion as Faith's conversation with her grandmother, but in light of conquering both Alien and Archie, the scenarios reflect a feeling that is never compromised, but realized:

"I think we found ourselves. We finally got to see some other parts of the world. We saw some beautiful things here. It was so nice to get away from reality for a while. Something so amazing. So magical. It almost seems like the world is perfect. Like it's never going to end."

The "reality" comment is what sticks out the most to me. Nomi experienced the dark underbelly of show business, yet came out claiming she "found herself". But Candy and Brit were able to recognize that spring break did indeed exist outside of reality. After all, spring break only lasts a week—eventually, the dream (and careers) must end. These two insights clearly reflect their respective directors. Verhoeven begged the industry and the viewer to realize they are part of the problem—we fuel such ignorance in these characters. Korine, on the other hand, has no hope for such an industry. It's constricting, unoriginal, and completely closed off from reality. Nomi's victory invites us to realize and solve the problem—Candy and Brit's victory asks us to realize and then transcend the problem. And looking at their career trajectories, Verhoeven's continued fight within the industry and Korine's continued fight outside the industry reflect both of these mindsets.
I read an article about how Spring Breakers was a giant metaphor for Britney Spears' downfall.The Britney Spears sequence in Spring Breakers is definitely a reflection Britney Spears herself, but the metaphor doesn't entirely pertain to a single individual  Much like those teenage celebrities that are burned by the industry, Spears was a casualty of the dream. The four girls sing Spears' innocent first hit "Hit Me Baby One More Time" early in the film, but her song "Everytime" later plays over the robberies while the girls wear their pink ski masks. These two songs bookended the rise and fall of the pop star, as "Everytime" was the final track of In the Zone, which was Spears' final album before devolving into a white trash joke alongside Kevin Federline. "Everytime" is a song of hope, a song of dreams, wishing and praying for something better. Knowing what happens to idealistic stars with such aspirations, I don't think it's difficult to realize in this moment how detrimental and self-destructive that "dream" can truly be.


Did I like it:
Absolutely. I loved it. I'm not the biggest Harmony Korine fan, but Julien Donkey-Boy intrigues me from what I've seen, and Spring Breakers feels like a sign that he's directed better films than the somewhat overrated Gummo. I think he's evolved as a storyteller, as his images have now gained a coherent meaning instead of existing on their own...which is beautiful to witness, but as a cohesive whole, something wasn't clicking for me before Spring Breakers.

Franco killed it. KILLED IT. He's hilarious, he's disgusting, he's sinister. I really hope he gets a nomination for his role, which would also give Korine some recognition.

I still hate Skrillex, but damn it I might actually delve deeper into his music after this movie. That might be a bad idea...but we'll see.

Most people I've spoken to don't like this film. That's understandable. People hated Showgirls because it made them feel uncomfortable. But I think the discomfort stems from something deeper than T&A, and our awareness of these characters' scary situation rings truer and closer than we realize upon first glance.

I think it's similar to what Modigliani said about Killing Them Softly (and what's true of Showgirls)—people may not fall heads over heels for the film, but time will allow us to delve deeper into Spring Breakers and decipher its finer elements. If our distaste doesn't recede, at least our respect will grow. And I'll gladly take that.

INQUIRY CLOSED

MORTIMER GRANVILLE
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<![CDATA[Modigliani:  Inquiry 150:  why is "The Place Beyond the Pines" called "The Place Beyond the Pines"?]]>Fri, 26 Apr 2013 16:33:50 GMThttp://www.modigmovie.com/1/post/2013/04/modigliani-inquiry-150-why-is-the-place-beyond-the-pines-called-the-place-beyond-the-pines.htmlThis is a sub-investigation into The Place Beyond the Pines.  For the major analysis, click here
 
The Place Beyond the Pines is a metaphoric title.

My Assessment:
Within the movie, understanding the title is a little...difficult.  For clarification, let's read an interview the director did with Grantland:
Grantland:  Near the end of the movie, Dane DeHaan's character gets a gun, and the rest of the time you're waiting for the grisly outcome. But it doesn't happen.

Cianfrance:  I was thinking a lot about what is this film ultimately about. What’s Jason gonna do with the gun? Is it gonna be a story of vengeance? That would be very satisfying. But I don't feel that in my heart. I have kids and my kids have to watch my movies someday. I don’t want to put that in the world. Is he gonna kill himself? Is it gonna be hopelessness? I don't feel hopeless. I don't wanna put that out in the world. To me it's about forgiveness. I think about America: the legacy of this country being built on brutality and violence and ruthlessness. And now we live domesticated lives, but I don't think that stuff ever goes away. The chickens come home to roost. But the only way to deal with it is to forgive. That's what I would like to put out in the world.

With forgiveness in mind, we can make sense of the title.  

Twice Bradley Cooper is taking into the woods.  

The first time by Ray Liotta.  We're pretty sure Ray Liotta's going to kill Cooper, right?  Liotta is a corrupt cop who has shown flashes of being an asshole.  He's menacing as can be.  Plus, he's leading Bradley Cooper way off into the woods, alone, after Cooper tried to reveal the corruption charges. Cooper knows exactly what will happen if he goes into the woods.  So...he runs away.  

The second time is by Dane DeHaan/Jason, the son of the man Cooper had killed.  Jason wants to kill Cooper.  To avenge his father.  
Instead of murdering Cooper and avenging his father, Jason let's Cooper live.  Instead of staying in that place of anger and wrath, and instead of letting these things define him, Jason MOVES BEYOND.  The movies makes the woods this place violence and murder should happen.  Remember there's the draw-out introduction to the woods, as Liotta leads Cooper, all the menace and foreboding from the music and camera shots, from Cooper's increasing nerves.  When we return to this place with Jason and Cooper, we're thinking the violence prophesied by the Liotta/Cooper trip will finally occur.

The title then is referring to this idea of choosing forgiveness.  The movie ends with Jason heading off into a new life.  

Inquiry Closed

MODIGLIANI
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<![CDATA[Modigliani:  Inquiry 149:  what's the point of "The Place Beyond the Pines"? or: watching someone exorcise their daddy-issues through cinema]]>Thu, 25 Apr 2013 20:49:43 GMThttp://www.modigmovie.com/1/post/2013/04/modigliani-inquiry-149-whats-the-point-of-the-place-beyond-the-pines-or-watching-someone-exorcise-their-daddy-issues-through-cinema.html
So you've watched The Place Beyond the Pines because you heard from Collider it's one of the best movies of 2013.  Or because a friend made you go.  Or because you love Ryan Gosling.  Or because you like artsy movies and this seemed up your alley.  Whatever reason, there's a good chance the movie ended and you were like, "....uh?...".

Let's look at the driving theme and ultimate point Pines makes.  


People:
Director:  Derek Cianfrance
Writers:  Cianfrance, Darius Marder, Ben Coccio
Screams like a little girl:  Ryan Gosling
Jumps around outside a house for 2 minutes as though he's never seen a door:  Bradley Cooper
Always plays a girl in fucked up relationships:  Eva Mendes
Menacing:  Ray Liotta
More advanced form of his Killing Them Softly character:  Ben Mendelsohn
Punished for wanting to make sure her husband was safe:  Rose Byrne
Cool dad:  Mahershala Ali
As dramatic as he was in Chronicle:  Dane DeHaan
Plays "Entitled Long Island Kid" really well:  Emory Cohen


What It's Good For:
-bringing a bunch of acting talent together
-the opening long take
-hearing Ryan Gosling scream a whole bunch
-unintentional hilarity akin to Drive
-dramatic shifts in perspective
-throwing all the emotional weight onto Eva Mendes
-as a weird, alternate-version of Limitless
-the line "just take the money, you'll never have to see me again" repeating
-people with daddy issues
-making me think Ryan Gosling is more character actor than method actor
-some cool high-speed stuff
-Cooper escaping Liotta only to be led to the woods by someone else was cool


Potential Pitfalls:
-the quality of what happens with all the acting talent is debatable
-the opening long take is followed up by less powerful directing maneuvers
-there's a lot going on thematically that could leave people going "what the hell is going on?"
-Cooper escapes again and again and again, then succeeds?
-movies makes a mean, mean, mean statement to foster parents


My Assessment:  
Face-tatted, cut-off wearing, bank robbing, bleach blonde Luke Glanton tells his baby's momma something along the lines of:  "He needs his dad.  My dad wasn't there and look how I turned out."  

This line frames the destinies of the four main characters:  
the two adults:  Luke and Avery
the two teenagers:  Jason and AJ

Look at each character. 

Luke:  no father figure  
Avery:  supportive father
AJ:  supportive father figure who Jason knows isn't his real dad; knows nothing about his real dad
Jason:  unsupportive father

Each character's fate is determined by the strength of the father (not "father figure").  Which is why I think Pines is a very superficial movie.  Not to say it isn't without merit or interest.  Rather:  the characters are one-dimensional.  Their actions wholly reactionary.  

Luke has no father (so far as we see in the movie).  He's the most troubled of the four characters (evidence: his tantrums, bashing Kofi, robbing banks, criminal record).  He's the most violent (bashing Kofi, threatening Robin, firing the gun at Avery).  The most criminal.  The most unstable (assembling a baby crib one minute, attacking Kofi the next; holding his son one minute, robbing banks the next).  He is, also, arguably, the kindest of them.  We see him emoting over baby Jason.  We know he wants to be with Romina.  He's trying to do the right thing, but doesn't know how.  It's like the you can see the potential for who he could have been...but it's undermined by who he has had to be.  Luke is killed in a classic Cop Vs. Robber showdown. 

Avery is the killer cop.  He's hailed as a hero for slaying Luke.  His father is proud of him.  His father is there to offer him advice.  "A limp goes a long way in politics." (not verbatim).  While we can see Avery is a bit standoffish from his dad, his dad is there for him and supportive.  Is Avery's dad the reason Avery is so ambitious?  Avery's gone to college. He's gone to law school.  Avery's dad was a judge so both college and law school makes sense.  We see how Avery tries to leverage his "hero status" within the police force for a promotion.  The Chief of Police laughs at Avery, denies him.  Avery is given a desk job (his injured knee means he can't be on patrol).  Instead of settling there, Avery tries to fight the corruption this new vantage point has given him.  This is the anti-thesis of Luke.  Luke dove into illegal activity in order to support his family.  Here Avery is battling illegal activity for his own gain.  When Ray Liotta finds out about this, Ray Liotta is going to fucking kill Avery.  Why?  Because Ray Liotta doesn't stand for any rats in his police force.  Avery runs.  Runs runs runs.  Where's he run to?  His dad.  His dad is there to support him and tells him how to get out of this:  go above the Chief of Police, go to the District Attorney and get the corrupt cops arrested.  If only Luke had had someone to offer him decent advice.  Not only does Avery sell out the corrupt cops, he seizes the opportunity to become Assistant DA.  This is why I consider Avery's story a mini-LA Confidential.  What's Avery go on to do?  He becomes the Attorney General of the United States of America.  

AJ is Avery's son.  AJ is weird.  We can all agree on that, right?  The scene where Avery is having the meeting and AJ pulls his shirt off, stands at the edge of the pool then dives in:  that's a weird scene, right?  Like...ambiguous and strange all around?  AJ is into drugs.  Throws a massive party at his dad's house.  There's alcohol and illegal drugs at the party.  That's a scandal and a half.  Why is AJ so messed up?  Is it just his character?  Oh, wait.  Via dialogue given by Rose Byrne (AJ's mom) and a conversation AJ has with Jason, we find out AJ is the byproduct of divorce.  He's lived with his mother.  Has only recently come to live with Avery--after Rose said AJ needs his dad, is losing his shit without Avery there to support him.  Turns out:  Avery isn't being very supportive.  We see Avery ignore AJ, admit he has no idea what to do with AJ (that it's not a good time for him to be around (ouch)), he grabs AJ's face and pushes him into a wall, screams at AJ.  AJ, in that moment, is terrified.  

Avery sucks as a dad (we can agree on that, too, right?).  

Which is why Avery sort of sucks as a human being, or so the movie would have us believe this is cause-and-effect.  After AJ and Avery have they're near death experience, we don't know what happens between them.  We know Avery kept yelling at Jason "IS MY SON OKAY??  WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SON!?"  Maybe the two reached a tipping point and landed on a good path?  When Avery wins Attorney General and takes the stage, we see AJ is still reluctant to follow him, is goaded by the coordinator.  But when AJ is on the stage, standing behind his dad, seeing all the people cheering for his dad, is listening to his dad talk:  AJ smiles.  

Jason is Luke's son.  Except Jason doesn't know he's Luke's son.  Jason 100% knows he isn't Kofi's son.  So here we have a kid who is in the dark about where he comes from (Romina hasn't told Jason anything about Luke, per Luke's dying request).  And how is that kid identified?  As a loner.  Despite having a loving mother and a very supportive father figure, Jason is isolated, unable to form connections.  Why?  One could argue it's simply because that's how Jason is. But what happens once Jason finds out about his dad?  He moves.  He goes from having a false and destructive connection with AJ to seeking vengeance to forgiving and moving forward.  The impetus for all of those actions is Jason connecting to his father.  Reading what happened to Luke.  Talking to Robin about Luke.  Getting his dad's shades.  It's learning about the connection between Avery and Luke that motivates Jason to get a gun, to bash AJ the way Luke bashed Kofi (unknown to Jason), to bring a kidnapped Avery to the same woods Ray Liotta once took Avery.  When Jason lets a crying Avery live, Jason can't stay in Schenectady (where he's broken into a house, knocked a classmate out, then nearly murdered the soon-to-be Attorney General of the United States).  He leaves.  And he leaves how?  On a fucking motorcycle.  Jason is no longer isolated.  The bike is a connection to his father.  He rides off into the sunset.

Jason's connection to his dad is through the bike.  Especially because Robin said Luke was the best bike rider he ever saw.  AJ's connection to his dad, if one indeed formed and the smile at the end wasn't simply because he was on stage and smiling was the appropriate thing to do, comes at seeing how excited other people are about Avery.  In other words:  both kids connect through pride.  Jason takes pride in his dad's riding ability.  AJ takes pride in his dad's achievement.  Remember, this is the closest AJ has ever been with his father.  We can assume he's never had first-hand experience with what his dad means to other people, that AJ's always been in the shadows.  He hears his dad is travelling for important events.  Watches his dad have meetings.  Seeing all these people scream and cheer and be excited about Avery...this is something totally different...this isn't hearing about an event or seeing the tiny meeting preceding the event...this is history...and it strikes a chord within AJ.  Probably similar to the pride Avery had in his dad being a judge.  

Is this well-structured?  Sure!  Will it resonate with some people?  Definitely.  Do I find it insulting?  You betcha!  

"Wait, insulting, how?  You find EVERYTHING insulting.  You found Moneyball insulting!"  

Yeah, because Moneyball is insulting to Art Howe, Miguel Tejada, Barry Zito, Mark Mulder, Tim Hudson, Jeremy Giambi, Lenka (she wrote the song Billy Beane's daughter claims to have written), etc. etc.  How is it insulting?  Click here!

I find Pines insulting because it seems to make the case that a male needs his biological father's guidance, or else he'll turn out to be a criminal.  Sure, he can be a well-meaning criminal, but still a criminal.  The one character who has a positive, supportive biological father goes on to become a big-time politician.  Do 21st century Americans still even associate political achievement with actual life achievement?  I guess that's a whole other conversation.  Yeah, Avery achieves a lot.  But he's also a slime-mold.  He does do some decent things (tries to return the money, doesn't give in to corruption) but he fired first on Luke without giving Luke a chance to turn himself in, and he is an asshole to his son (you can argue it's because he feels guilty about murdering Luke, that it's established he's formed an aversion to his own child, yeah, yeah...doesn't mean I feel bad for Avery, or that it justifies his behavior).  

Luke:  criminal
AJ:  criminal
Jason:  criminal

You could argue the movie is only showing what's true for these four characters.  That it isn't commenting on EVERYONE.  Except you have the line "My dad wasn't there and look how I turned out."  Then we see this is true for both teens.  Their dad's aren't really there:  look how they've turned out.  And the fact Avery is the polar-opposite of Luke.  Even going so far as to have them in opposing careers:  robber and cop.  It's too consciously structured for me to think the movie wasn't attempting larger commentary.  

Which makes Pines insulting to single moms who raise decent human beings who have goals and achieve goals.  And insulting to kids who have shitty parents and work and work and work to not be shitty, to do better than what they see their parents have done.  I find it insulting to step-fathers who do their best to care for a child as their own.  

Yeah, I know.  

There are kids of single moms who are awful.  There are kids with terrible parents who are terrible kids.  There are kids who are terrible people despite having a terrific and well-meaning step-parent.  Despite those truths, it's uh...what's the word...stupid?  Maybe "stupid"?  Let's try it and see if it works!

It's stupid to me to have such a narrow scope (yup, that's the word!).  To have the character growth dependent on the father/son relationship.  Yes, parents do have a tremendous impact on their kids.  It's just not as simple as the movie portrays it.  I think the subject matter of the film is too verbose for the narrative to encompass.  While the story captures aspects of that subject matter, it fails to give proper coverage, which renders the film terribly simple.  This simplicity and one-sidedness is, for me, a fatal flaw.  

It could be Cianfrance, Mendar and Coccio have very egotistical views of their impact as parents and the dependence their children have on them?  Or it could be Cianfrance, Mendar and Coccio each want their kids to watch the movie one day in the future and appreciate their fathers for being there (assuming C, M and C the "supportive" father types).  Or it could be Cianfrance, Mendar and Coccio each have issues with their fathers, and are working through them in this movie?  Or it could be they have a paltry perspective on parent/children relationships, with no concept of how influential a good mother, a good step-father, or a strong will to succeed can be.  Or it could be none of those things.  Ultimately, I don't know why Cianfrance, Mendar and Coccio made the decisions they made.  What I do know is I don't agree with them.  

An example of a similar narrative:  The Kid with a Bike.  Cyril's father has left Cyril in foster care because the father is a selfish asshole.  Cyril doesn't understand what's going on.  He is desperate to reconnect with his dad.  The dad keeps giving Cyril false hope.  Cyril encounters a woman, Samantha, who he asks to visit.  Samantha tries to care for Cyril, to adopt him.  It proves very destructive.  She has to battle against a predatory drug dealer who preys on Cyril's abandonment issues in order to get him to rob a convenience store.  In this movie, we're seeing the impact a parent can have, a child's reaction, then the narrative develops potentials:  Cyril could surrender to Samantha's care, he could stay in foster care, he could listen to the drug dealer.  How he interacts with each potential is based on, yes, his issues with his dad.  But each of these potentials impacts Cyril.  He changes by following the path.  We see reaction, growth, action.  

Cyril isn't bound by his dad the way the four characters in Pines are.  Other people impact his life.  The same is true in The Lion King.  Simba is reacting to his dad's death, but he is transformed by further encounters in his life.  We get a whole picture.  Bike and Lion King allow Cyril and Simba the narrative space to define themselves beyond the influence of their dad's.  Pines ends the story right before the story reaches a point of actual narrative importance:  "what now?".  So if I'm going to end on a cheesy, really forced joke, this is the time to say:  The Place Beyond the Pines never really goes beyond its roots.    

 
Did I Like It:
Meh.  Like with Drive, the opening sequence one me over.  I was ready to love the movie.  I had heard good things, too.  But like with Drive, the movie is insanely melodramatic to the point of being comical.  When AJ took his shirt off and stood on the edge of the pool:  I was cracking up.  All the homoerotic exchanges between AJ and Jason:  I was cracking up.  Ryan Gosling screaming so hard he should be known as the Bank Robbing Banshee:  I was cracking up.  Gosling runs into the house and hides and Cooper dances around outside the house like the monkey-style fighter in Bloodsport:  I was cracking up.  When Cooper drove all the way into the woods then waited for Liotta to stop then gunned the car in reverse and escaped:  I was cracking up.  When Jason got the bike and rode off into the sunset:  I was groaning.  

Fine acting.  Fine directing.  Interesting structure.  I just don't like the content.  There are parts I like.  When Cooper says to Mendes "Just take the money, you never have to see me again" and she just breaks down...that was awesome.  When the movie forces Cooper into Mendes's house and he has to hold baby Jason while the other dude searches the crib for the money:  that was awesome.

If the movie had just ended with Avery feeling like a piece of shit:  I'm happy with it.  Continuing on...just felt...meh...it tied everything together too neatly for my taste.  It didn't expand on any tensions.  It solidified ideas from the first part.  We could have debated those ideas.  Instead, the movie doesn't really give us anything to debate other than "isn't it shitty that both mom's are relegated to well-meaning but useless in the positive development of their children?"  

The more I think about the ego it took to write this movie...the more I dislike it.  I'm sure Cianfrance and Marder and Coccio didn't mean anything insulting by the movie.  I'm not accusing them of being assholes.  But when you look at the movie...it's pretty arrogantly in favor of The Father.  

Inquiry Closed

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