Hey, so… Paul Newman died last night.
27 September, 2008
I know that this isn’t really pertinent, but I loved the man, or at least his work. And so expect a whole bunch of Paul Newman movies to be reviewed shortly.
Tell No One
27 September, 2008
Eighty percent good is not bad, I suppose. There are fabulous bits to this film, but it challenges naught, except the unholy devotion of the Hollywood system to flashy effects. Fun, though, and nothing wrong with that, I suppose.
Man On Wire
27 September, 2008
It is fortunate that Phillipe Petit is a fascinating subject, because the film itself is deadly dull and at times horribly offensive. They managed to make one of the most fascinating and beautiful acts of defiantly public art almost boring, mundane. But, oh, Phillipe Petit, balanced on that wire. If they had simply had him recount his tale, from beginning to end, and played that as a soundtrack over the archival stills and footage, with cuts to footage of the participants as they are now, the film would have been incredibly moving. It is unfortunate that Petit is not macho enough for Herzog, because to see Herzog attack this subject would be utter joy.
Burn After Reading
27 September, 2008
The Coens hate everything. And have managed to condense that hatred into an hour and a half long film that seems, on the very surface, to be quite peppy and upbeat. If you’re an idiot. Which, then, would make you one of the things that the Coens hate. If you are a misanthropic recluse, like myself, you will laugh until your guts hurt. If you are not, you probably won’t get it or will get it and won’t like it.
By Coen standards, or really by any standards, the film itself is a piece of shit. Filmed indifferently, edited sloppily, acted in broad caricature. But this is deliberate, of course, because the Coens can get away with near anything, and because they are pointedly mocking films for which the standards here would be the apex.
Ultimately this kind of fluff is always a bit soul-wrecking, because to be affirmed in ones own hatred of everything seems an empty gesture.
The Animation Show (Vol. One)
13 September, 2008
This is my favorite of the animation shows thus far, partly because of the intro, intermission, and closing animated by none other than Don Hertzfeldt. The work in this collection is, it seems to me, far more sophisticated and far more interesting than most of what has come later. The presence of work by Georges Schwizgebel and Adam Elliot lends the thing an air of true artistry, which isn’t necessarily lacking in later shows as much as it is harder to find, unless there is a Hertzfeldt piece playing. I do love, very much, the simpler pieces in this volume as well- Fifty Percent Grey and Das Rad will always hold special places in my heart.
While there are misses in this portion of the festival, of course- Cathedral being one of them- the hits seem to be much more powerful than the misses ever will.
Vicky Christina Barcelona
6 September, 2008
I hate Woody Allen, or at least recent Woody Allen. I went in to this film expecting to leave pissed off and completely disappointed that Javier Bardem had made yet another shit film.
And yet… Allen seems to have regained his stride. The film missteps once, with a signature Woody Allen terrible editing choice, but beyond that it is really exceptionally good.
Most striking is Penelope Cruz, who stalks the screen like an irrationally angry cat, and finally exercises the talent I knew she had to be capable of. Javier Bardem sharing a screen with her is quite something to behold, two people who are committed to their roles and utterly fluent in their expression of frustrated love.
All of the acting is superb, even from Miss Johansson, and everyone deftly handles the typically wordy Allen script. The familiar complex interrelationships are more gracefully awkward than they have been in an Allen film in quite some time, and the narration seems less grating and more friendly than I am accustomed to.
I suppose I will never love Woody Allen, but I do thoroughly enjoy this piece.
Children of Men
6 September, 2008
The editing and cinematography is astounding, even now, even on a small screen. It kicks me in the gut. The disinterest… the apathy. It isn’t a wandering camera, like in Neorealism, it is a dispassionate camera that is slowly drawn in. A camera that is slowly captured by the story-line, that follows the arc of Owen’s character’s development from pathetic waste to savior. Absolutely brilliant.
Marie Antoinette
6 September, 2008
I cannot figure out why I like this film so much. It’s pretty, yes. It’s filmed luxuriously and is incredibly well-costumed. The art direction is spectacular and the acting is superb. The editing is quite good, the music and the sound are all exceptional. But it lacks depth. I think. Maybe it only appears to be superficial. I can’t decide. The glossy sheen on it is deliberate, right? I am so confused. Sophia Coppola is either a genius, or a very spoiled girl who gets to play with very expensive toys.
It is the ending, really, that leaves me wondering whether what I just watched was what it seemed. So smart, so abrupt, so very very unexpected. But of course, Sophia knows how to end a film. We know this, from her earlier work. I think she starts from the ending and works back, to be honest. She has an image, something she knows will catch and stick, and builds backwards from it.
