Showing posts with label blog-a-thon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blog-a-thon. Show all posts

Saturday, 16 February 2013

Motifs In Cinema - The Aging Process in 2012

Motifs in Cinema is a discourse across 22 film blogs, assessing the way in which various thematic elements have been used in the 2012 cinematic landscape. How does a common theme vary in use from a comedy to a drama? Are filmmakers working from a similar canvas when they assess the issue of death or the dynamics of revenge? Like most things, a film begins with an idea - Motifs in Cinema assesses how the use of a common theme across various films changes when utilized by different artists.


I'll be honest - I had mixed feelings when Andrew (of Encore's World of Film & TV) asked me to participate in this blog-a-thon about motifs and themes found in the films of 2012. I was excited to hear that numerous different bloggers (including several Toronto friends) would be giving their own perspectives on pervasive themes, but I worried about my own participation - I'm not one to usually look for overarching thematic content across different films as I rarely see it as a concerted effort by those filmmakers to go after those topics in the same calendar year. However, Andrew's idea afforded me a few angles. First of all, we were asked to compare and contrast the approach of different movies to a specific theme. Secondly, we could actually choose from a provided list, so I had some say in what I might be examining.

The parenting angle had already been chosen by a couple of other bloggers (Andrew was kind enough to offer it up to me, but I didn't want to have anyone shift their strategies), so I chose another one that I'm becoming much more acquainted with every day: Aging. I've never been one to overly worry about getting older, but the last couple of years have brought that whole concept a bit more to the fore. Partially because of my own creaking bones and minor health issues, but primarily due to my Dad having struggled through some major health issues. He's doing much better these days, but 2011 certainly brought a whole crapload of perspective to what it means to grow old. I'm not sure I was ready for it all, but there it was. Given that, I didn't want to solely focus on the tail end of the aging process, so I thought I would take a look at a variety of films from 2012 that covered a wide spectrum of the stages of life.

Childhood


Moonrise Kingdom - apart from being my favourite film of the year and yet another great example of Wes Anderson's style, aesthetic and amalgamation of his own themes - is a wonderful portrayal of what it can be like to be a kid. It's not just its adventurous aspects or how it handles a first brush with love blooming, but also the depiction of how as a child you sometimes feel you already have all the answers and are much more mature than you might get credit for being. In fact, you feel you may be even more mature than any of the adults around you. If it doesn't necessarily give you an accurate picture of what it's like to be a child who looks at life differently than his/her peers, it provides you with a window into what it might feel like to think you have it all figured out. Both kids have confidence in their actions and words, confidence in each other and not much use for what they perceive to be the limiting rules of their elders.

Contrast this with The Odd Life Of Timothy Green - a movie that similarly has its central child (despite having a great deal of naivety) filled with a calm sense of confidence and things to teach the adults around him. It dabbles in the fantastic upon our introduction to Timothy - a boy who seemingly was willed to existence by his parents, but appears to have but a short time to impart some lessons to the adults and townspeople around him - but then struggles to ground its story in a realistic setting. It stays afloat as a movie mostly on the charm of its titular character as played by CJ Adams, but it stumbles with how it depicts Timothy's childhood experience. Part of his lesson is to show his parents that kids are resilient and come what may will survive and persevere. He does this by never letting anything affect him - no matter what happens, Timothy retains his confidence and a smile on his face. By attempting to place the story and characters in the real world, it just doesn't feel like an honest look at how a child manages to navigate the pitfalls they encounter. In this case, Anderson's tactic of creating a separate universe within which his characters live allows for a much truer representation of what it feels like to be a kid.

Teenage Years


Part of being a teenager is that desire to get to adulthood. You can almost feel the desperation to get to that next level of responsibility so that you can make your own choices. Not only do you feel like you know everything, you know that you know everything. Hence rebellion. Brave, Pixar's first attempt at building a story around a female protagonist, lives in this space during its first half. Princess Merida wants to pursue her passions, but Mom is restrictive and insists she tend to her duties. This sets up the best relationship of the film and what is essentially its core - a mother and daughter who fight and struggle for control while also sharing a great deal of commonalities and strength. The movie wasn't universally loved - in particular due to what many perceive as "run of the mill" stuff intruding into the story in its second half - but that relationship alone was enough for me (I enjoyed the rest of it too).

Michel Gondry's experiment The We And The I took a different approach to examining the rebellious and eager to flex their adult muscles teenagers. Parents, for example, are nowhere to be seen. The entirety of the story (except for some flashback and fantasy scenes) takes place on a city bus bringing a large group of teens home from their last day of high school. If you can get past the utterly unlikable aspects of many of these kids (and a dearth of acting talent in some cases), the film delivers a wide variety of intersecting relationships, attitudes and energy. The mid-section of the film pops with so much exuberance, spirit and vigour that you can't help but feel like a teenager yourself at times. It's not a matter of relating to these kids or even liking them (I mean come on - they're teenagers!), but a case of planting you in their shoes and creating a vortex of activity whirling about you to give you that feeling you might occasionally recall from your younger, chest-thumping days.

Perks Of Being A Wallflower also mostly dismisses the parental influence, but it wholeheartedly embraces the peer one. As a parent myself, it became pretty clear even in the early days of elementary school that children typically garner a great deal of their attitudes, self-worth and ideas from their own peer group - much moreso than their parents (I'm not saying parents have no part - just that they get pushed aside in many cases once the child reaches school). Perks Of Being A Wallflower was not only one of the more affecting films I saw last year, but it also does an excellent job of putting you in the character's shoes - in this case, those that belong to an adolescent boy who hasn't found any grounding yet. He can't relate to anyone, doesn't get the feedback he needs and always feels on the outside. One of the benefits of that, though, is that he meets a group of kids who also know what it's like to be on the outside looking in. They embrace him, pull him into their own group and become his support. Growing up is too hard to do alone.

Gaining Maturity


You could easily slide 21 Jump Street into a discussion of the Teenage Years since the majority of the story takes place with its two undercover officers mingling in a high school environment. Due to a mix-up and an altered landscape at the school, they essentially switch roles: the geek becomes popular and the stud is shunned. It would be a stretch to say that they fully mature after reliving their school days, but seeing things from another perspective and getting several second chances does bring them a few steps closer to adulthood.

The man-child finally growing up was "explored" in several comedies throughout the year. The best (and most subtle) was Sleepwalk With Me which has its central young male adult struggle through trying to figure out why his life seems to be stalled in both career and relationship. Part of his maturation is to accept where things have gone wrong, take some chances and stop waiting for things to happen. In Ted, John's life is also somewhat stuck, but he's happy to keep it there (seriously, if you've somehow managed to get Mila Kunis as your girlfriend, you really shouldn't be rocking the boat). His best buddy Ted is essentially symbolic of his carefree youth that he doesn't want to let go. Though the story is pretty predictable and the conflicts arise when and how you expect, it did manage in the midst of its crudeness to show the character's growth in awareness. It even managed some charm. Jeff Who Lives At Home looked at two brothers also stuck in neutral - one in typical living-in-my-parents-basement style while the other takes much for granted and is in denial of the issues in his relationship. After spending some time together and numerous mishaps, they finally start making some headway on the process of accepting responsibility (which was seriously overdue).

A different take on growing into adulthood came from Olivier Assayas' Something In The Air. Essentially a look back at his own youth, it's a wonderful example of those times when you still needed to fully figure out your convictions. Though it captures its era and politics as well as you possibly can, the movie really is about this young man's progression from idealist to someone more pragmatic and capable of seeing the grey in complex situations. In other words, he matures.

Parenthood


It would figure that the least successful movies of the bunch would be those aimed directly at my own situation - the middle-aged adult wrestling with getting old and raising kids. Though I usually find enough to like in any Judd Apatow movie, This Is 40 is easily his most frustrating. I thought there was a great deal of potential for Apatow to make not only a funny film, but an insightful one about reaching success (home, family, job) and having things fall apart in different ways. Though he did manage to provide several solid moments between the couple, he failed to create truly sympathetic likable characters. You have to want these people to overcome each new crisis, but at some point I pretty much gave up caring about them. They aren't nasty people, but each time they shot themselves in the foot they just became more and more irritating.

Even worse, though, was Friends With Kids. With its abysmal tag line of "Love. Happiness. Kids. Pick two." and only-in-the-movies premise of two platonic friends deciding to have a child together, the film borders on insulting numerous times. Granted, I'm taking it a bit personal, but the canard that kids ruin a happy marriage is not only reductive but it isn't overly interesting. There's little to no subtlety in the examination of how kids affect your life (don't get me wrong - things do change) nor any thoughtful discussion. And some of these characters are quite nasty people.

Even with extraordinarily reduced expectations, if you expect anything perceptive out of What To Expect When You're Expecting, then I expect you will be sadly disappointed. Sure it has a few entertaining moments (mostly due to what individual actors brought to tepid material), but it has nothing to contribute. At all.

Reflection


A pair of sci-fi time travel movies provided their older characters a chance to reflect on their past. Looper brings both the old and young versions of its main character Joe together with opportunity for the former to right some wrongs. Though the old version of Joe acts in ways that may appear quite selfish, he's in fact being very selfless - everything he does is for the sake of another person. Young Joe has little concept of this, but old Joe has learned a thing or two in his time. Why the film works exceptionally well for me is that young Joe actually discovers how to be selfless as well. It was a capability he had all along, but he just didn't know it.

Men In Black 3 isn't quite as successful, but works far better than you might imagine. A great deal of that is because of Josh Brolin's fantastic performance as a young Tommy Lee Jones (he wasn't mimicking, he was inhabiting...), but the framework of the movie (as goofy and forced as it is sometimes) allows us to see Agent K's earlier life and helps us appreciate how he became who he is in the present day. K's gruffness and crankiness makes sense now.

Decline


Aging necessitates slowing down due to the physical breakdown of the body through natural processes, but also due to choices you've made in the past. Skyfall, though it nicely sets itself up at the end to continue the adventures of James Bond for a good long while, gives us one of the hardest working Bonds we've seen thus far, but this time with real consequences to his body and health. Sure he can still bed the beauty, but everything doesn't come quite as easy as it used to for James. He bruises, scars, gets tired and is moving a step or so slower than in his salad days - not what we've typically come to see from this super-est of agents.

An even greater demonstration of a single person's decline into old age is presented in the only documentary in this set: Beware Of Mr. Baker. Archive footage shows how Ginger Baker was capable of performing inhuman drumming feats while in Cream and a variety of other projects, so it's sad to see the morphine-addicted shell he's become. But he's brought most of it on himself - his lifestyle, his rash decisions and his selfish nature have led to the brutish, angry man he is.

The Golden Years?


Which leads us to the old folks...I didn't see either The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel or Hope Springs, so I can't discuss how apparently wonderful it is to get old. If you ask Clint Eastwood's character in Trouble With The Curve, I'm pretty sure he'd sneer and bark at you to get out of his face. Or possibly punch you out. He hates being old and is still somewhat in denial. He continues to do his job using his old tried and true methods - even when he physically can't do things as well (in particular, his sight is failing him). Whether you admit it to yourself or not, the physical wear and tear on your body that aging causes is going to happen - so it's a matter of what you do with that knowledge and how you accept it. Trouble With The Curve makes that its central message, but it does so in rather obvious and occasionally cornball ways. Director Robert Lorenz has collaborated with Eastwood a great deal over the last decade and it doesn't look like they wanted to try anything new or challenging with this film. So they stuck with tried and true and delivered a rather pedestrian affair.

Amour is anything but pedestrian. It has a simple message - you'll get old, you'll die and it'll be horrible - but instead of telling you, it punches you in the face with it. It's immediately effective and you feel worn out by its end as you watch good people slog through the coda of their lives, but for me it didn't leave any lasting bruises. The octogenarian actors of the film are incredible, but short of its message I had little to take away from Haneke's latest. I totally understand and respect the approach he took with it (were more movies this straightforward...), but it didn't stick and was never as affecting as I thought it should have been.


So what did I learn about the aging process in 2012? Well, it's a helluva ride with bumps and obstacles galore. And it's worth every broken down hair follicle and wrinkle.

Wednesday, 29 September 2010

A Belated Apology to the P.T. Anderson Blog-a-thon


If you aren't already following the terrific blog Moon In The Gutter (written by Jeremy Richey), well, I just don't know who you are anymore...He not only has great and insightful writing on the site, but a very keen eye for how the visual aspects of film contribute to the whole (e.g. framing, colour composition, etc.). Spend a minute there and you'll spend an hour - I have many times.

Anyway, Jeremy ran a blog-a-thon on one of my favourite directors - P.T. Anderson - a few weeks ago and invited me to contribute. I thought about numerous possibilities, was very keen to do it and was also completely wrapped up in the Toronto International Film Festival at the time. So, in short, I submitted nothing...Take a look at the above link, though, for some great writing on the films of Anderson - only 5 full length features under his belt, but widely considered one of the best American filmmakers around. Jeremy has news that his latest, entitled "The Master", is delayed in production due to funding. A damn shame.

So by way of contrition:


Opening of Magnolia



Even better than this incredible, Ricky Jay narrated opening is the following 4-5 minutes that introduce, in almost breathless fashion, the raft of characters. Backed by Aimee Mann's cover of "One", the sequence perfectly sets up the backgrounds, personalities and faults of each one of them. It's deliriously giddy filmmaking.


Deleted scene



My initial thought while watching this was, "Hey, he's a Rush fan! Excellent!". Then I paused and thought, "Wait, P.T. Anderson made Frank T.J. Mackey a Rush fan? That may not be a good sign..."

Sunday, 14 February 2010

For The Love of Film: The Film Preservation Blog-a-thon




I'm not sure I'll have anything to contribute to the Film Preservation Blog-a-thon that kicked off today, but it really does merit more than just a passing mention.

Co-hosts Marilyn (from Ferdy On Film) and Farran (from Self-Styled Siren) have both been on my blogroll from just about Day One of my own blogging. They've done something special here though - the blog-a-thon they are both sponsoring is not only a celebration of the treasures that have been saved from being lost forever, but also a fundraising event. Specifically for the National Film Preservation Foundation. As the co-hosts state:

The National Film Preservation Foundation is the independent, nonprofit organization created by the U.S. Congress to help save America’s film heritage. They work directly with archives to rescue endangered films that will not survive without public support.

The NFPF will give away 4 DVD sets as thank-you gifts to blogathon donors chosen in a random drawing: Treasures III: Social Issues in American Film, 1900-1934 and Treasures IV: American Avant Garde Film, 1947-1986.

They have more details at their sites (which you NEED to visit) with master lists of the participants so far, but also feel free to just go ahead and donate to the fund. They'd be mighty pleased if you did.

The blog-a-thon runs until February 21.


Thursday, 9 July 2009

"The Space Amoeba" - Spirit of Ed Wood Blog-a-thon




This post is part of the Spirit of Ed Wood Blog-a-thon happening over at Cinema Styles all this week. Some great posts have already been submitted, so take a look if you haven't already.

I admit that I'm not overly familiar with Ed Wood's oeuvre as a whole - only having seen "Plan 9 From Outer Space" - but I think I can recognize the spirit of Ed: as a director, get your "vision" out there via any means possible as long as your final film stays true to itself. A recent viewing of Ishiro Honda's fun 1970 monster flick "The Space Amoeba" seemed to fit within that ethic.

Now, when you're dealing with a film called "The Space Amoeba" (aka "Yog: The Monster From Space"), you should probably know going into it that you might have to suspend your disbelief at times. Which, of course, is OK. Just because a film doesn't follow the exact letter of all physical laws or have people react exactly as you expect they should, doesn't mean that there's an issue with it. As long as the movie remains consistent with the world in which it has set itself and its characters remain true to themselves, then everything is fine. Within the first few scenes of "The Space Amoeba", you realize you don't have to watch for any sort of consistency - it's making it up as it goes. However, in this case, that's OK. The spirit of Ed prevails.

Honda (director of the original 1954 "Gojira" - ie. "Godzilla") keeps the pace of the film in high gear all the way through and isn't afraid to show you his monsters in all their glory (and frequently at that). The monsters actually look pretty terrific and you can tell a good deal of imagination was put into the design and costumes (the DVD comes with short little documentary features on each of the three main animals on which the monsters are based) and Honda's ability to overlay them with the smaller human characters.







Part of the fun is actually being in on the joke of the monsters typically just being guys in suits, but the rest comes when the sharp piercing scream and squeals of these beings ring out and you briefly forget. It's pretty effective because you're already along for the ride.

But there's one particular sequence that, uh, stands out:












I laughed out loud during that part of the film, but it's not like Honda doesn't realize what he's doing. He needed his audience to see someone actually get lifted up by the monster and if that takes a little frame by frame painting to get the job done, so be it. Need to show rocket ships? Use plastic toy sets...How do you show a space amoeba? Overlay some blue light...Want to make sure your audience enjoys themselves and laughs with the film? Ensure your actors go broad...










The plot goes something like this: The unmanned space probe Helios 7 is on its way to Jupiter when it encounters what appears to be some blue space dust. This foreign substance enters the ship (even though it is completely vacuum sealed) and simply wills the ship to turn around and head back to Earth. We cut to Kudo, a photographer returning to Japan from Brazil, who is reading about the probe having simply disappeared. He begins to ruminate about how life would be off the planet Earth, when he looks out the window and sees Helios 7 falling back into the sea. Though he fails to capture any pictures of the splashdown, he somehow manages to mark the exact spot (with a red 'X') on his small map. This happens to correspond exactly with the location of a small uncivilized (and inhabited by only 80 people) island called Selgio that several developers are hoping to build up as a new resort destination. They ask Kudo to come along with them and take photos of the island. Along for the trip is Dr. Miya (an old friend of Kudo's), a woman developer and a Corporate spy. Once on the island they discover that the islanders fear a large creature called Gezora. With the help of the blue space amoeba, Gezora is now gigantic and its squid-like tentacles cause havoc - especially when it walks on land. That's really all you need to know, except that the amoeba also finds its way to a crab and a turtle.




The residents of the island are mistrusting of the Japanese (the elders insist the younger ones don't deal with those "devils"), but they can all speak the language due the island having been occupied and used during the war. As with "Gojira", Honda can take the simple "monster movie made for entertainment" and still work in a few fairly subtle messages. The Japanese who have come to the island to "civilize" it (ie. to exploit and profit from it) gradually realize that to achieve their goal, they need to actually work with nature instead of against it. So in the end, perhaps we didn't have to quite suspend all of our disbelief.

I think Ed would've liked that.



Tuesday, 16 June 2009

Two of the Best Film Titles Ever




This post is part of the Japanese Cinema Blog-a-thon being held from June 15-21 over at Wildgrounds.




"Detective Bureau 2-3: Go To Hell Bastards!"

"3 Seconds Before Explosion"


The wonderful folks at Kino just happened to release both of these great titles on the same day about a month ago. While one title reflects the joyful anarchic spirit of Japanese Pop cinema from the 60s, the other economically summarizes pretty much the entirety of its plot in 4 words (and lays out the fun simplicity of many of the 60s crime films).



"Detective Bureau 2-3: Go To Hell Bastards!"

Rat-a-tat pulsing snare drums blast out of the speakers, scantily clad dancers jiggle around a Christmas tree and Jo Shishido smirks while holding a large machine gun like weapon...And that's just the menu of the DVD. What's even better is that "Detective Bureau 2-3: Go To Hell Bastards!" delivers fully on this immediate promise.

Done around the time that director Seijun Suzuki began pushing his boundaries, but before he abandoned the idea of straight narrative, Kino's recent release of this 1963 Nikkatsu "detective infiltrates gang" story moves at a good clip. By giving just enough information to the viewer, the film keeps you in the loop, but also forces you to always be on your toes if you want to stay there. Because of that, it seems hardly worth it to describe the plot - it's doesn't really matter to a certain extent and there's nothing revelatory about it - so just know that you'll get gun battles, women in distress, tough talking yakuza, operatic death scenes and a jazzy, 50s rock 'n roll score. The key to the film is actually in its presentation. Things like visual cues, lighting schemes and character framing are always giving additional information while the quick pace, great looking colours, broad acting and the music firmly state - above everything else - that there's a sense of fun that will last throughout the movie.























A little grounding to the story couldn't hurt though...Shishido plays a detective offering his services to the local police after a mass gangland slaying leaves a single surviving witness. Shishido thinks he's the right man to go undercover. He plays it ultra-cool (and drives a wickedly great little white sports car), but not so much that he can't do some additional mugging on occasion for the camera. He even participates in one of the four musical numbers that crop up during the various club visits made by the gang members (it's completely silly, but it's extraordinarily entertaining). Through some of this goofiness, Suzuki manages to gently poke some fun at the genre itself while also using many of its own conventions.

Another distinguishing characteristic of many of these 60s films is the ability to sneak in some cultural commentary amongst all the schizophrenic goings-on. Whether it's the American style music, the large U.S. planes the camera lingers on as a car drives by the airport or many of the tropes of American crime thrillers being reused (and also slightly mocked), there's a definite sense of a struggle to find where Japan's own identity fits in. To do that while also stretching (and even redefining) a well-worn genre and keeping an audience highly entertained is a pretty grand feat. My appreciation of Suzuki continues unabated...




"3 Seconds Before Explosion"

Similar to Kino's other release, Tan Ida's 1967 thriller is a fast paced, colourful and completely entertaining story of undercover spies and gangs with lots of stylish violence. With several layers of spies acting on behalf of three separate groups attempting to recover some precious gemstones, Ida's film has perhaps a larger focus on its plot than on the striking visuals and stylish technique, but it still contains both of those as well.

The film opens with a roughly 2 minute long sequence of our hero Yamawaki being tortured - piercing tones and flashing bright lights are assaulting his senses and it looks like he's about to crumble. He's attacked by a knife-wielding man and just as he's ready to kill him (at the encouragement of a disembodied voice), the "test" comes to an end. It's been a training exercise to see if Yamawaki can not only withstand incredible stress, but also follow orders - to see if he could actually kill if directed. He's now passed his final test and is officially considered a special agent for the secret crime fighting bureau.






















He's assigned to track down and recover the gemstones. Through complicated legal reasons, the gems change ownership to whoever has possession of them on a certain date at 6:00AM. So obviously, there are competing interests in acquiring the stones. Yamawaki goes way undercover to infiltrate the gang known to have the gems, but he encounters several issues. First, he's not easily trusted. Secondly, there are already spies within the gang feeding information to another gang who also want to get their hands on the jewels. Further complicating matters is the fact that his former colleague and equally well-trained spy Yabuki, is now working for one of these gangs. Of course, the two old friends respect each other, but vow that they will kill in order to get the gems.

Though not as openly silly at times as "Detective Bureau", the fun factor kicks in with the brisk pace of the story as well as Yamawaki's inventiveness and use of little gadgets. He's always ahead of the rest of the gang leaders and the assorted henchmen clogging up each scene (there are more henchmen per square foot in this film than any you might care to mention) and manages to retain a cool detached persona. Even the Chinese female escort attempting to seduce information out of him can't crack a smile on Yamawaki. Yabuki on the other hand is a bit more emotional and quick to temper - perhaps because his girlfriend is in a rival gang and providing information back to him. The women in this world, by the way, don't typically fare very well...My impression has always been that this is more a direct correlation to the real societal issues women had to deal with at the time than any kind of misogynistic exploitation, but whatever the case, it certainly jumps out at you. So even while you're enjoying a good solid genre film packed with action and tension, you can still be made to ponder a few things.

Even 40 years later.