Friday, February 09, 2007

Muriel Awards: Best Ensemble

"Jack Nicholson, given the right role, will act his co-stars under the table. This was the right role, which is why it's a testament to the amazing acting bravado of his colleagues that he wasn't able to steal the show entirely. And what colleagues: Leonardo Di Caprio, Matt Damon, Mark Wahlberg, Martin Sheen, Ray Winstone and Alec Baldwin all doing some of the best work of their careers." ~ Matt Riviera

Click here for complete results

We interrupt your regularly scheduled Muriel Awards for this special message...

"Come now, gentlemen,
your love is all I crave;
You'll still be in the circus
when I'm laughing,
laughing in my grave"

HELL YES.

(Guess what arrived in the mail today?)

Happy early birthday to me.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

Muriel Awards: Best First Feature As Director

"BRICK, a cinematic mash-up of Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett detective stories with a contemporary high school drama, seems like a stylistic stunt, but writer-director Rian Johnson’s film works quite well. This isn’t an exercise in playing dress-up. The characters inhabit a place where disappointment and pain lurk around every corner, something all too familiar to teenagers. Johnson’s sources of inspiration for BRICK put forth tough dicks and dames in a cold, uncaring universe. Glum teens are a clever and natural evolution for the genre." ~ Mark Pfeiffer

Click here for complete results

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Muriel Awards: Best Breakthrough Performance

"[Hudson's] character has the most difficult arc in "Dreamgirls" and she plays it flawlessly. Funny and poignant, brash and tender, sometimes all at once. Oh, and did I mention she can sing her ass off?" ~ Jason Alley

Click here for complete results

Presenting... The Muriel Awards.

If you've taken a look at my screening log lately, you may have noticed a downturn in the number of movies I've watched in the last week or so. While some of this may be chalked up to the weak caliber of January movies (when SMOKIN' ACES is the most intriguing-looking multiplex release, it's a fallow period indeed), I've also been busy with something else.

I've always enjoyed voting for movie awards. For years I've given out my own my own honors, which I would post on my now drastically-revamped site. I've also participated in numerous polls and online awards over the years, though I never resorted to voting for the People's Choice Awards, where my nomination of, say, KINGS AND QUEEN might not have gone over too well. So I suppose it was only a matter of time until I'd play a part in getting one of these things off the ground. Thanks to all who participated, in particular Steven Carlson who helped me immeasurably in gathering this year's voters:

Jason Alley
Kent M. Beeson
Andrew Bemis
Dennis Cozzalio
Greg Dunlap
James Frazier
Martin McClellan
Lucas McNelly
Mark Pfeiffer
Matt Riviera
Jenny Sekwa
R. Presley Stephens

While you're here, why not drop in on their sites as well?

I'm sure some of you are asking what's with the name of the awards (or not, if you're a regular reader over at Rickey)? Anyway, I decided that my guinea pig Muriel would be as good an inspiration/mascot as any, seeing as how, as I say on the Muriel Awards web site:

"[Muriel] is both temperamental and endlessly curious, two traits which are common to a lot of die-hard filmgoers. Of course, few of them are as cute..."

Plus the Muriel Awards has kind of a nice ring to it, in my opinion. Now all I need to do is name something else after my other guinea pig, Victoria, so she doesn't feel left out.

I'll be unveiling the award winners by category on this blog over the course of the next week or so, one per day, with the big prize- Best Feature Film- to be announced on President's Day, Monday, February 19. In addition, I'll be updating the Muriel Awards web site as I announce the awards, and when it's all said and done the page will also include ballots from the various voters, which should prove illuminating.

So watch this space, and enjoy!

Saturday, February 03, 2007

YouTube finds: LET IT BE

Like many people, I went through a Beatles phase when I was younger. It mostly happened during my senior year in high school and my first two years of college. I bought all of their CDs and listened to them over and over, and I also had my first exposure to A HARD DAY'S NIGHT!, HELP and YELLOW SUBMARINE, all three of which I still love, especially the first. I wouldn't say I've moved on since then- I still love their music, of course- but I don't really listen to them like I used to. Occasionally I'll break out one of their CDs- usually REVOLVER or ABBEY ROAD- and groove on the awesomeness, half rocking out, half nostalgia trip.

Anyway, watching the trailer for the upcoming ACROSS THE UNIVERSE today (meh... not a Taymor fan, and the idea of Beatles covers by the hottest indie-rock and emo-wussy artists doesn't exactly thrill me) on AICN I discovered in the comments that the out-of-print Beatles doc LET IT BE can be found on YouTube. But of course! So I poked around a little and sure enough... It was interesting seeing it for the first time now, focusing not so much on the music as the filmic qualities of it. This was no doubt enhanced by some sound issues in the first hour of the film, in which the syncronization between soundtrack and image is off about a second or so. Because the music being played was so familiar to me, I was able to direct my attention to what was on the screen- the dynamic between the band members, the ragged looks on their faces, and so on. And when they take to the rooftop for their last hurrah, it's a hell of a moment. Oh to have been walking through the streets of London on that grey January day to experience this firsthand!

Anyway, the film was pretty awesome overall. Hard to imagine what it would have been like in its original 210-minute form (more expansive and Wiseman-esque, I'm sure), but in its present form, even watching it on YouTube, it's a fascinating cultural document.

But why take my word for it? Carve out a few hours and check it out!

Section 1 (20 minutes)

Section 2 (20 minutes)


Section 3 (20 minutes)

Section 4 (7 minutes)

Section 5 (7 minutes)

Section 6 (7 minutes)

Don't say I never did anything for you.

Sunday, January 21, 2007

As promised...

I'm posting links to new film-related blogs as I create them. To your right I've added links to both Pomegranate Rickey and my new screening (b)log, as well as a plethora of sites I visit on a regular basis. More to come.

Saturday, January 20, 2007

Good news, bad news

In most cases, when someone informs me that they have good news and bad news for me, I have him deliver the bad news first. The reason is twofold- it gets the bad news out of the way as soon as possible, and it generally leaves the conversation on a positive note. However, in this case I'll give you the good news first, since it's much shorter, and then move on to the bad news, which I think requires a bit more explanation.

The good news is that my computer is back up and running, and so I'll be able to update my blog when I see fit. If there's one thing a month or so without 24/7 computer access has taught me, it's that blogs are both more practical and easier to maintain than conventional web sites. I have to jump through a number of hoops to update my site, but I can tinker with my blog quickly and relatively painlessly from any computer connected to the Web. Because of this, I'm currently working on transferring the important stuff from my site to various blogs, with this one to be used as the main page. I'll keep you updated as the transition happens.

And now, the bad news. Aforementioned transfer aside, I can't make any promises for how often I'll update in the future. You may have noticed in the past few years that the number of posts here have gone down. Simply put, I'm just not motivated like I used to be. Back when I started writing about movies on the Internet, I had a pretty wide circle of friends on the 'Net, always asking me what I thought of new (and some old) movies. Originally I'd e-Mail reviews to them, but I figured it'd be just as easy to post them on a site, for them to read at their leisure, without cluttering up their Inboxes. As I wrote more reviews and got more positive feedback, I attempted to use my site as a kind of calling card, in the hope that I might be able to find a critic job.

But as the years have passed, I've become less interested in writing about film. Don't get me wrong- I'm as passionate about cinema as ever. However, there are many different ways to love movies, and compared to watching (and re-watching), discussing, and reading about film, writing just doesn't interest me as much. The truth is that it takes me longer than it used to to write reviews, time which I'd rather spend actually watching movies. Which is not to say that I'm flat-out not interested in writing, but I've had enough creative dry spells in my life that when I do find myself motivated to write, it's going to be something more substantial. This isn't just me talking out of my ass, mind you- just a few weeks ago I churned out a new short film screenplay, so it's not like I never do any writing. But when it comes to blogging pro bono about cinema, it's got to be a labor of love or else it just turns into labor.

Which brings me to my second problem. I've sort of resigned myself to the idea that I probably won't end up a film critic. With so many passionate bloggers out there, the market for paying critics has kinda plummeted lately, and I'll be the first to admit that there are many better and more prolific than I am. Because of this I've accepted the fact that my thoughts on movies are only of interest to a handful of people out there, most of whom (a) I see on a regular basis, or (b) I keep in touch with via e-Mail. For those of you who don't fall into either category, I apologize, and I hope you enjoy the old stuff and are patient enough to wait for whatever new stuff I end up posting. All I can say is that it's become too much work for not enough payoff, and if that's not reason enough for you, then see above.

I hope that you'll check back here every once in a while, though I'll understand if you don't. Perhaps in the future I'll be able to post more film-related pieces, but at present I just don't have it in me anymore. I do hope to post something on my favorite films of 2006 before the end of the month, but as usual, I make no promises.

Thursday, January 04, 2007

New year, new ratings system

I’ve never been all that happy with using the 4-star system of rating films. Most of the time, the middle ratings tend to be overloaded with movies, stuff that’s pretty kind of OK but hardly spectacular. The trouble is that, especially since I’ve tried to be tougher with the higher star ratings, the ** and **1/2 star ratings have become my default for the middle-of-the-road stuff. So finally I’m making a change, not to the Retarded 100 Point Scale™ or back to letter grades, but to a 10-point scale. The added bonus is that the 10-point scale has always translated more naturally to conversation than star ratings- while you always sort of have to explain what the stars represent to people, when you say that a movie is 6 out of 10, most people have a pretty good idea what you mean.

Still, I should probably specify what I mean by each number rating. Because I’m such a nice guy, ya know.

10 => **** (Masterpieces)
9 => ***1/2 (Near-masterpieces)
8 => ***-***1/2 (Highly recommended)
7 => *** (Very good)
6 => **1/2 (Above average)
5 => **1/2 (Worth seeing)
4 => ** (Mediocre)
3 => *1/2-** (Has redeeming facet)
2 => *1/2 (Dire)
1 => * (Worthless)
0 => 0* (Vile, offensive garbage)

For the time being, I’ll try the numerical ratings with new releases only, continuing to rate classics on the 4-star scale, in order to make compiling my retroactive yearly lists easier and not quite so messy.

In the interest of (a) keeping my readership informed of what I’m watching, and (b) not falling behind on my screening log, here’s what I’ve watched in the last week or so.

12/26- % Three Godfathers (1948, John Ford) [***]
% /Symbiopsychotaxiplasm: Take One (1968, William Greaves)/ [***1/2]
12/28- % Vive l’Amour (1994, Tsai Ming-liang) [***]
% /Lawrence of Arabia (1962, David Lean)/ [****]
% Symbiopsychotaxiplasm: Take 2 ½ (2005, William Greaves) [8]
12/29- % /M (1931, Fritz Lang)/ [****]
% Gabrielle (2005, Patrice Chereau) [8]
12/30- % /L’Enfant (2005, Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne)/ [8]
# Rocky Balboa (2006, Sylvester Stallone) [4]
# Dreamgirls (2006, Bill Condon) [4]
# Blood Diamond (2006, Edward Zwick) [2]
% /Inside Man (2006, Spike Lee)/ [8]
% /Bubble (2006, Steven Soderbergh)/ [7]
12/31- % Who’s Camus Anyway? (2005, Mitsuo Yanagimachi) [8]
# The History Boys (2006, Nicholas Hytner) [3]
% /Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story (2005, Michael Winterbottom)/ [9]
% /United 93 (2006, Paul Greengrass)/ [8]
1/1- % /The Conformist (1970, Bernardo Bertolucci)/ [***1/2]
# /The Prestige (2006, Christopher Nolan)/ [10]
% /The Black Dahlia (2006, Brian DePalma)/ [8]
1/2- % The Great McGinty (1940, Preston Sturges) [***1/2]
1/3- % /Lorenzo’s Oil (1992, George Miller)/ [***1/2] {remember when this guy used to make awesome, underappreciated live-action films instead of silly animated dancing penguin movies? That was awesome)

More to come, if you're lucky and I'm motivated enough. But don't bet on it, at least not until I get my computer back.

Monday, January 01, 2007

The Prestige (2006, Christopher Nolan)

(originally written for The Onion AV Club's end-of-2006 poll)

All of the great movies hold up to multiple viewings, but Christopher Nolan’s THE PRESTIGE practically demands it. In fact, watching the film twice is like watching one performance each by its two principal characters. The first viewing is like an Angier performance- you groove on the showmanship and the presentation, but you’re not sure how much substance is there. The second viewing, however, is pure Borden, in which you really see how intricate and thought-out the film is, which of course makes it all the more entertaining. In the end, THE PRESTIGE deals with men who would sacrifice everything (love, body parts, even their lives) for their passions, and more than that, the fallout that occurs when two of these men are at odds with each other- not just Borden vs. Angier, but also Nikola Tesla vs. Thomas Edison. Plus it’s just a ripping yarn with the cleverest screenplay to come along since Nolan’s breakout film, MEMENTO. For my money, THE PRESTIGE is even better.

Interkosmos

(Originally posted to a certain movie nerd discussion group, all rights reserved)

> So: What's the ONE movie you loved this year that you wish everyone else would see? Maybe it's a tiny indie, foreign, or documentary that no one else here caught, or even heard of.

How about a tiny indie mockumentary that's largely in a foreign language? The point is, next to nobody saw it. Hell, it never even got a real commercial release, which is a shame, for if it did, it would certainly be one of my faves of '06. Ladies and gents, I give you Jim Finn's INTERKOSMOS.

If I could boil this down to a five-word pitch, it would go something like this: "Max Fischer Players in Space." Of course, if it was that simple, it would simply be a good time at the movies instead of the completely awesome original that it is. If anything, Finn's sense of humor is even drier and more obscure than Anderson's, and even more prone to random digressions, as when the film takes a break to explore the role of the guinea pig as a Communist children's symbol, or any of the strange musical interludes.

INTERKOSMOS tells the story of a collaboration between the Communist bloc nations to launch a (fictional) mission to explore and later colonize the moons of our solar system's outer planets. Much of the movie is in the style of an educational or industrial film- dry voiceover, "found" footage, models and diagrams of the proposed space colonies. But Finn isn't simply making a put-on, and with a short sequence of shots near the end, he re-configures the DNA of the entire film, turning a quirky comedy into a low-key but surprisingly poignant love story.

Supposedly INTERKOSMOS is coming out on DVD in the relatively near future, and I recommend that you guys check it out. If nothing else, you'll never think of that capitalist ditty "The Trolley Song" the same way ever again.

The Death of Mr. Lazarescu (2005, Cristi Puiu)

(Originally written for the Onion AV Club's end-of-2006 poll)

With a title like that, one does not go in expecting to have a good time, but while THE DEATH OF MR. LAZARESCU is harrowing, it’s also essential viewing for anyone who takes world cinema seriously. Much of the credit for the film’s success can be attributed to Ion Fiscuteanu, who embodies the title character with a complete lack of guile, fearlessly venturing through the bowels of the Romanian health care system that, over the course of one night, will suck away his dignity and his humanity, leaving him naked, barely breathing, and waiting to die. Meanwhile, the system swirls around him, with hospitals sending him elsewhere, doctors taking him to task for his drinking and diet rather than dealing with the problem in front of them, and everyone trifling over paperwork and procedure, perhaps to cope with all the suffering. Director Cristi Puiu never allows his film to devolve into a wallow, leavening the story with sardonic humor borne out of exasperation and impotence in a way that hasn’t been done this well since Terry Gilliam’s BRAZIL.

Children of Men (2006, Alfonso Cuaron)

(originally written for the Onion AV Club's end-of-2006 poll)

Like THE PRESTIGE, CHILDREN OF MEN demands multiple viewings, but for a different reason. Watching CHILDREN OF MEN for the first time reminded me of when I saw EYES WIDE SHUT on opening night- it made a strong impression, but it was difficult to grasp everything that the film was up to. I think that’s because Alfonso Cuaron, like Kubrick, refuses to stop and explain what he’s doing, trusting the audience to hold on and keep up, which of course is much easier to do when you know what’s in store for you. The film’s technical specs are impeccable, with three already-legendary extended camera shots raising the bar for such things. But Cuaron and D.P. Emmanuel Lubezki aren’t just dicking around with the camera, but using these bravura shots as a way of plunging the audience directly into the action, and it works beautifully- on both of my viewings of the film to date, I barely even noticed that one of these long takes was uninterrupted. The only question is, after throwing the “sex movie” for a loop, crafting the best (read: least slavish) movie adaptation of HARRY POTTER, and now this, what else could Cuaron possibly have up his sleeve?

Monday, December 25, 2006

Happy holidays

Some more ratings of recently-seen movies, until my computer gets fixed:

12/20- The Long Voyage Home (1940, John Ford) [***1/2]
12/21- Fort Apache (1948, John Ford) [***1/2]
12/22- /She Wore a Yellow Ribbon (1949, John Ford)/ [***1/2]

(Guess what I got for an early Christmas present)

12/23- /Cars (2006, John Lasseter)/ [still **1/2]
12/24- /Miami Vice (2006, Michael Mann)/ [**1/2, was **]

Happy Holidays to all.

Monday, December 18, 2006

More computer woes

Well, looks like it was a software problem that was hampering my computer. Unfortunately, it's gotten worse. Whereas before it was only affecting the media output, now my Windows won't boot up at all. I'm having the guy who built my computer in the first place re-install Windows, but until that happens my access is severely limited (I'm stealthily posting from work, constantly looking over my shoulder). So, until I can update the site proper, I'll post my screening log updates here. Enjoy.

12/6- #/The Age of Innocence (1993, Martin Scorsese)/ [still ****]
12/7- #$ The Happiest Day of His Life (2006, Ursula Burton)
# The Saga of Anatahan (1953, Josef Von Sternberg) [***1/2]
12/8- # Volver (2006, Pedro Almodovar) [**1/2]
% /A History of Violence/
12/9-10- # Out 1 (1971, Jacques Rivette) [****]
12/11- % /Pandora's Box (1929, G.W. Pabst)/ [****]
12/13- % The Missing (2003, Lee Kang-Sheng) [**1/2]
12/14- # Classe Tous Risques (1960, Claude Sautet) [***1/2]
12/15- # Army of Shadows (1969, Jean-Pierre Melville) [****]
% /Point Blank (1967, John Boorman)/ [still ****]
12/16- # /Army of Shadows/
% 4 (2005, Ilya Khrzhanovsky) [**1/2]
12/17- % The Road to Guantanamo (2006, Michael Winterbottom and Mat Whitecross) [**]
# Apocalypto (2006, Mel Gibson) [*1/2]
# /The Depahted/ [still ***1/2]

Can't promise that I'll comment on these in the near future, but I'll see what I can do.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Melting down the canon

I realize I’m a little late to the party with this, but having recently re-read Paul Schrader’s piece on cinematic canons in the Sept/Oct issue of FILM COMMENT, I’ve got to say that I was left with a lot of questions. The biggest, in my mind, was “what purpose does a canon serve in our cinematic culture?” Personally, I think Schrader overestimates its importance. I believe that the primary reason for a canon is educational- if one wishes to build a foundation of cinematic knowledge and experience, a firm foundation is necessary. Thinking back to my school days in the D.A.R.E. program, I recall the phrase “gateway drugs,” used to describe alcohol, tobacco and marijuana, the use of which presumably could lead to the taking of harder drugs. Similarly, a filmic canon would serve as a list of “gateway movies.”

But to be honest, once you’ve seen the canonical movies, do you still need the canon? Honestly, I don’t think so, especially in our current critical climate. Many have bemoaned the decline of the critical establishment following the rise of the blogosphere, but one happy side effect of this has been a greater diversity in the types of films that can be labeled “great.” This is perhaps the most glaring way in which Schrader reveals himself to be a critical fuddy-duddy. Naturally, I don’t expect a cinematic canon to overlook CITIZEN KANE or RULES OF THE GAME, but looking at the genre offerings on the list illuminates how little Schrader cares about the full spectrum of great cinema.

Out of sixty films on the list, five are Westerns, and musicals are also well-represented. However, important though these are to film history, they’re all fairly safe fallbacks- all three genres are well past their prime, notable in today’s cinematic landscape not so much by modern-day popularity as by the long shadows they cast. In the past decade or so, both Westerns and musicals have experienced a resurgence of sorts, but whereas the classic offerings in these genres were intended first and foremost as populist entertainments, today they’re seen as specialty fare, for the purpose of garnering Oscar™ attention.

But to cite a counter-example, horror (a genre that’s as commercial viable as ever) has no place in Schrader’s canon. Part of this is no doubt due to the author limiting himself to one film per filmmaker, or else PSYCHO might have found a place on the list. The fact remains that Schrader proudly proclaims his goal of keeping his canon “highbrow”- a dubious claim for a list that includes zero experimental or documentary works- and a scruffy genre like horror has no place among the likes of A PLACE IN THE SUN (perhaps the most glaringly out-of-place “classic” on the list, a film I’ve never been able to watch more than half an hour of before stopping). Personally, I can’t fathom trying to acquaint someone with classic cinema without directing him toward the hallucinatory imagery of FREAKS, the sly subversiveness of BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN, or even the gory satire of DAWN OF THE DEAD.

Perhaps the issue here isn’t one of ‘brows at all, but rather Schrader’s stressing of the director above all else. Naturally, when compiling a list of this nature, all of the greatest filmmakers should be represented. But concentrating one’s attention on the directors of the films rather than the works themselves tends to lead to great films by less-than-legendary filmmakers getting overlooked. There are a few exceptions on the list, notably SWEET SMELL OF SUCCESS, which tends to be singled out for Ernest Lehman’s screenplay and the tart performances, but for the most part auteurism has won the day. In particular, many of the great comedies in the cinematic medium (silent masters notwithstanding) have succeeded as much due to performance and writing as direction. So where are Fields and the Marx brothers? If nothing else, one’s cinematic development would no doubt be a dreary one without these guys to help brighten the way.

Similarly, by limiting his canon to one film per director, Schrader begs the question of how he selects which of the director’s works is the most canonical. In the essay, he somewhat long-windedly explains his criteria for the list- beauty, strangeness, morality et al- but I can’t for the life of me see how he uses these criteria in practice. Perhaps the lack of writing on the films themselves is to blame here. But when I was recently making a failed attempt at creating my own list along these lines, I found myself faced with the same problem.

With some filmmakers it’s easy- not many would argue with CITIZEN KANE being the most feted and influential work of Welles’ career, for example- but some of the great filmmakers have created such a uniformly excellent body of work that boiling it down to one is a formidable task indeed. For example, when looking at the career of Ingmar Bergman, how does one select the most “canonical?” So many possibilities- PERSONA may come closest to summing up Bergman’s greatness as a filmmaker, but THE SEVENTH SEAL has been the most culturally-pervasive and arguably the most influential. And those are just two films in a career that has produced dozens of works.

Another issue I have with the list is Schrader’s insistence on ranking the films in order of preference. How does it benefit the readers of the list to tell us that one thinks a certain canonical film is greater than another? If a film is deserving of its place in the canon, placing it on the list should be enough (also, Chaplin at #3 and Keaton at #60? What gives?). In my opinion, any ranking (or if I was doing it, grouping) that is done of canonical films should be done for reasons of accessibility rather than preference. You won’t get any argument from me that both John Ford and Andrei Tarkovsky belong in the cinematic pantheon, but if I was going to make a list of “canonical” films for a newcomer to film history, I’d try to make damn clear that he should probably take on Ford before he tries Tarkovsky.

But perhaps the biggest issue I have with Schrader’s compiling of a canon is that, at the end of the day, it’s a unilateral act. Yes, many of the titles on his list are fairly widely accepted as being significant works of the cinema, but a number of them are not. Of the most recent entries on his list, IN THE MOOD FOR LOVE is probably the only one that has been widely acknowledged as a timeless work by the critical cognoscenti. The others- MOTHER AND SON, THE BIG LEBOWSKI, TALK TO HER- are all good-to-great films, but what exactly makes them more worthy of inclusion than other great modern-day works like THE NEW WORLD, DOGVILLE, or THE SON?

Schrader doesn’t take time to say. He takes roughly fifteen pages justifying the need for a canon but can’t be bothered to comment on the films themselves, much less his reasons for including them. As a result, the list feels less like an attempt at creating a definitive working canon than a gussied-up list of personal favorites- hell, PERFORMANCE is great, but canonical? Really?- under the guise of supposed objectivity. For all its faults, the SIGHT AND SOUND poll is a much more useful snapshot of the films that, in the opinion of those in the know, represent the greatest and most important works in cinematic history.

By comparison, Schrader’s list is woefully inadequate in this and most any other respect. If he wanted to stir up discussion, he’s succeeded, but if the purpose of a canon is to define films that are above debate, then he’s failed miserably.

For those readers who haven’t seen Schrader’s list, here it is. The boldfaced titles are films I’ve seen, and the italicized ones represent films that are in my personal greatest-films list. I wouldn’t presume to call mine a canon, by the way.

1. Rules of the Game (Renoir, 1939)
2. Tokyo Story (Ozu, 1953)
3. City Lights (Chaplin, 1931)
4. Pickpocket (Bresson, 1959)
5. Metropolis (Lang, 1925)
6. Citizen Kane (Welles, 1941)
7. Orpheus (Cocteau, 1949)

8. Masculine-Feminine (Godard, 1965)
9. Persona (Bergman, 1966)
10. Vertigo (Hitchcock, 1958)
11. Sunrise (Murnau, 1927)

12. The Searchers (Ford, 1956)
13. The Lady Eve (Sturges, 1941)
14. The Conformist (Bertolucci, 1970)
15. 8 ½ (Fellini, 1963)
16. The Godfather (Coppola, 1972)
17. In the Mood for Love (Wong, 2000)
18. The Third Man (Reed, 1949)
19. Performance (Roeg/Cammell, 1970)
20. La Notte (Antonioni, 1961)

21. Mother and Son (Sokurov, 1997)
22. The Leopard (Visconti, 1963)
23. The Dead (Huston, 1987)
24. 2001: A Space Odyssey (Kubrick, 1968)
25. Last Year at Marienbad (Resnais, 1961)
26. The Passion of Joan of Arc (Dreyer, 1928)
27. Jules and Jim (Truffaut, 1961)
28. The Wild Bunch (Peckinpah, 1969)
29. All That Jazz (Fosse, 1979)
30. The Life of Oharu (Mizoguchi, 1952)
31. High and Low (Kurosawa, 1963)
32. Sweet Smell of Success (Mackendrick, 1957)

33. That Obscure Object of Desire (Buñuel, 1977)
34. An American in Paris (Minnelli, 1951)
35. The Battle of Algiers (Pontocorvo, 1965)
36. Taxi Driver (Scorsese, 1976)
37. Ali: Fear Eats the Soul (Fassbinder, 1974)
38. Blue Velvet (Lynch, 1986)
39. Crimes and Misdemeanors (Allen, 1989)
40. The Big Lebowski (Coen, 1998)

41. The Red Shoes (Powell/Pressburger, 1948)
42. Singin’ in the Rain (Donen/Kelly, 1952)
43. Chinatown (Polanski, 1974)
44. The Crowd (Vidor, 1928)
45. Sunset Boulevard (Wilder, 1950)
46. Talk to Her (Almodovar, 2002)
47. Shanghai Express (Sternberg, 1932)
48. Letter From An Unknown Woman (Ophuls, 1948)
49. Once Upon a Time in the West (Leone, 1969)
50. Salvatore Giuliano (Rosi, 1962)
51. Nostalghia (Tarkovsky, 1983)
52. Seven Men From Now (Boetticher, 1956)
53. Claire’s Knee (Rohmer, 1970)
54. Earth (Dovzhenko, 1930)
55. Gun Crazy (Lewis, 1949)
56. Out of the Past (Tourneur, 1947)
57. Children of Paradise (Carne, 1945)

58. The Naked Spur (Mann, 1953)
59. A Place in the Sun (Stevens, 1951)
60. The General (Keaton/Bruckman, 1927)

In addition, here are a few links to the FILM COMMENT site that deal with reactions to Schrader’s piece, including results of a poll about great filmmakers who didn’t make the cut, plus Schrader’s reponse to the haters.

Sunday, November 26, 2006

The 3 Tomatoes Joke, 2nd edition

FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION (2006, Christopher Guest)- aside from a few good bits of schtick (John Michael Higgins' incessant referencing of his "Mighty Choctaw" heritage is pretty great) and memorable performances from Harry Shearer and especially Catherine O'Hara, this is kind of a letdown. For one thing, it's clear that Guest doesn't know much about awards season- there's no mention of precursor awards (such as the Golden Globes) or the critics' awards, both of which might have clued the characters in to whether the Oscar buzz was legit or not. Instead, the Oscars as imagined by FYC take place largely in a vacuum, with no intermediary between the buzz and the nominations. In addition, there are just too many characters here to support a 85 minute film. The core characters- O'Hara's Marilyn Hack, Shearer's Victor Allen Miller, and their castmates- make an impression, but the rest of the company gets lost in the shuffle. Part of the problem is that, outside his favored mockumentary format, Guest really isn't all that good at establishing characters. The talking-heads scenes in GUFFMAN, BEST IN SHOW, and A MIGHTY WIND provide a convenient method for the performers to sketch in their characters' backgrounds, with the added bonus of allowing the film to contrast the way the characters sell themselves to the camera with their behavior in more "candid" moments. But here much of that is lost, and I really felt the difference. Around the time that Ricky Gervais showed up as a smarmy studio exec (a performance that seems to have dropped in from a more scathing satire), I was past trying to care about the people onscreen. The major exception is O'Hara, who as in A MIGHTY WIND is the film's solid center, which makes her transformation to nipped-and-tucked has-been in the film's second half all the more striking. Also, Fred Willard's clueless boor schtick never gets old. Rating: **.

TENACIOUS D IN THE PICK OF DESTINY (2006, Liam Lynch)- if anything, this movie was even more heartbreaking than FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION, in large part because I love the D and was hoping for more from them than a hard-rockin' Cheech and Chong movie. The original D shorts really didn't rely on stoner comedy (Kage and Jables were more generically slacker-ish offstage), but my heart sank when the film announced its intentions right off the bat, with a combination pot/fart joke that spoofs the THX logo. There's still plenty of good D moments to savor- Jack's attempts to join Kyle's band are pretty funny- but after the all-sung opening sequence of the film proper, which finds young Jack rebelling against his Bible-loving dad ("rock is not the devil's work, it's magical and rad!"), played by a crew-cutted Meat Loaf, everything else is a tad anti-climactic. D lovers will savor the returns of Lee and Sasquatch (though where's Captain Ed? Ben Stiller is not an acceptable substitute), but the sad truth is that Liam Lynch is far too amateurish and sophomoric a filmmaker to do justice to the spirit of Tenacious D, a fact that becomes all too apparent around the time around the time he slips in a gratuitous and mostly laugh-free car chase. Maybe these guys just work better in 15-minute intervals... Rating: **.

THE FOUNTAIN (2006, Darren Aronofsky)- if ever there was a contemporary film that was seemingly destined for maudit status, it would be this hypnotically overblown sci-fi epic. Even in its present miniaturized form, Aronofsky's canvas is teeming with grand imagery and Big Ideas, and his ambition and his complete commitment to his material hepls to defuse a lot of the potentially silly stuff (like when Hugh Jackman does tai chi in silhouette in front of a starry background). While Rachel Weisz has little to do besides looking beatific- which admittedly she does quite well- Jackman is nothing short of revelatory here, giving a performance (or three?) that runs the gamut from stalwart to anguished to Zen-like, all with a naked emotionalism that makes me wonder how the comparatively more mannered Brad Pitt could have pulled it off. More than ever it seems to me that Aronofsky yearns to be the great filmic artist of the Xbox generation, combining cutting-edge technology and fantasy influences with a singular sensibility (although this time he forgoes the hip-hop montages in favor of Kubrickian camera dollies and buttery cinematography), and frankly, that's fine with me. THE FOUNTAIN has few antecedents in the cinematic canon- both versions of SOLARIS spring to mind- and in the end I was reminded less of earlier films than to rock'n'roll concept albums of the seventies, which similarly attempted to inject serious artistic and cultural elements into a traditionally disposable medium. To THE FOUNTAIN's credit, it's good enough to be compared to some of the more successful concept albums, providing a cinematic experience which, for better or worse, is unlike anything in theatres right now. Rating: ***.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Hurts so bad, it gets me down, down, down...

R.I.P. Robert Altman.

I've long considered Altman one of my favorites, although as prolific and uneven as he's been there have been a number of clunkers in the mix. But even the least of his works (READY TO WEAR, QUINTET) are pure Altman, and as such hold more interest than most of the movies out there. If the goal of any real artist re-create the world in his image, Altman was truly one of the greats, since there was never mistaking any of his films for the work of anyone else. Though there has been a rash of ensemble dramas on the Hollywood and indie scene in the past decade or so, none has quite measured up to the best of Altman (P.T. Anderson, the master's assistant on his final film, A PRAIRIE HOME COMPANION, has probably come closest).

Out of America's currently-active filmmakers, who has made as many great or near-great works as Altman? Scorsese, perhaps. I'd argue for DePalma as well, but I'd almost surely be in the minority. And unlike Scorsese, Altman never resorted to a "one-for-me-one-for-them" career path. His films, for better or worse, were always his, which was all the more amazing considering the amount of leeway he'd give his actors. More than just the quality of his work or the freshness of his style, it was this maverick sensibility that made Altman a hero of mine.

One essential facet of this sensibility was Altman's insistence on making films for adults. Let's not forget how Altman deliberately inserted a handful of "fucks" into GOSFORD PARK just to keep kids from seeing it. POPEYE notwithstanding, the films of Robert Altman tend to evince a world-weariness that is at odds with the eternal adolescence of most Hollywood releases. It's for this reason that I took some time in warming to Altman's work as a budding filmgoer- I could respect what the guy was doing when I was younger, but it wasn't until I began to identify with, say, the lyrics of Annie Ross' "Prisoner of Life" in SHORT CUTS that I could begin to appreciate Altman's work as I was supposed to.

My favorite Altman? Hate to follow the party line, but NASHVILLE is still the work of his that's closest to my heart. Maybe it's because it was the first of his films to really bowl me over, or because it's the closest the past half-century has come to producing the Great American Film, but much as I love his body of work, NASHVILLE remains on top. But why should one have to choose just one? MCCABE & MRS. MILLER is also in my top 100, and SHORT CUTS and TANNER '88 are flat-out masterpieces as well.

Other Altman titles to grace my yearly lists include: MASH, THE LONG GOODBYE, CALIFORNIA SPLIT, 3 WOMEN, A WEDDING, SECRET HONOR, THE PLAYER, GOSFORD PARK, and THE COMPANY. And even in his second-tier work, there's still plenty to love- the great opening credits sequence in BREWSTER MCCLOUD featuring Margaret Hamilton, the sweet courtship between Paul Dooley and Marta Heflin in A PERFECT COUPLE, the cutting contest in KANSAS CITY, and the sweet sister act of Streep and Tomlin in PRAIRIE HOME, which was proof positive than even near the end, Altman was still in full control of his art.

Today, I'm reminded of an old Hollywood anecdote about another great director's passing. At their colleague and fellow emigré's funeral, Billy Wilder solemnly intoned, "no more Lubitsch." To which William Wyler responded, "worse than that- no more Lubitsch films." I never knew Robert Altman as a man, but I knew his work, and as a result I was about to see the world through his eyes, if only for a few hours at a time.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Casino Royale (2006, Martin Campbell)

I’ve long considered myself a fan of Bond, although when it comes to the more recent 007 movies my fandom is more theoretical than practical- I’ll see them all opening weekend, but none has really done much for me beyond the obvious entertainment value. Thank goodness for CASINO ROYALE, then- a belated straight-faced adaptation of Fleming’s first Bond novel that doesn’t come off as a series-salvaging reboot or, worse, a “prequel” (fuck you very much, George Lucas), but is a great Bond movie that actually manages to be an awesome movie as well. After a chilly black-and-white prologue that proves once and for all that Daniel Craig’s 007 means business in a way that Brosnan never quite did (and a clever opening credits sequence that only lacks a worthy song to match), the first hour of CASINO ROYALE is vintage Bond, setting up the film’s conflict and its villain with flair. In addition, this film brings the welcome return of Bond as a detective on an international scale, jetting from one exotic locale to another not just for variety but to chase down baddies (and clues to their names and whereabouts) for Queen and Country.

But while the film’s first hour supplies most of the pleasures of a good Bond movie- cool cars, pretty scenery, a babelicious woman 007 pumps for information and recreation, everything but Q’s gadgets- the film really gets good once Bond heads for the titular gambling establishment. It’s here we delve into the original Fleming storyline- here switched from baccarat to poker- along the way encountering the greatest Bond girl of all, Vesper Lynd. Amidst all the action and intrigue, it’s Bond’s relationship with Vesper that makes this movie special, in large part because she’s a real three-dimensional character. Which makes Eva Green so right for the role- she’s trousers-tighteningly hot, true, but she’s also a smart cookie, sizing up her male counterpart with her wide, ever-appraising eyes. And Green is matched every step of the way by Craig, as good an actor as has ever donned the tux (though not the fedora- an old-fashioned touch I still miss)- not only is he more of an ass-kicker than Brosnan or Moore, but he actively engages with his costars in a way that no Bond has since Connery. In other words, the pre-release anti-Craig contingent can go straight to hell, because this guy has done the role justice.

What keeps CASINO ROYALE from being one of the greats is the final half-hour. Both Fleming’s original novel and the best of the earlier Bond films had a terseness to them that the storytelling bloat of the film’s final reels sort of betrays. Personally, I thought that the film took about two steps too many to get the story from the awesome torture scene to the perfect final shot, and for a Bond movie, which thrives on momentum, there’s far too much stasis in these scenes. However, the fact of the matter is that even with these issues, CASINO ROYALE is better than any Bond movie since the 1960s because I actually gave a shit about the people onscreen. Unlike Moore’s Cold War-era cartoon, Dalton’s toothless agent, or Brosnan’s quip-heavy action figure, Craig plays Bond as a person, full of complexities and contradictions, one who changes throughout the course of the film, not always for the better, as a result of what he does and what is done to him. And like my favorite entry in the series, 1969’s ON HER MAJESTY’S SECRET SERVICE (and unlike any Bond film since), this one actually gives 007 a woman who is every bit as equal, which makes the story’s final revelations both tragic and inevitable. By the time Craig intones the film’s final, iconic line of dialogue, I for one believed him. Bond… is… back!

Rating: ***.

P.S.: Upon reflection, I've discovered to my mild consternation that for all the love I have for classic 007 adventures I don't own a single Bond movie on DVD. Perhaps this has something to do with the format of MGM's box sets- whereas I'd have no problem picking up an all-Connery (or even better, all-Connery and Lazenby) set, the way it works now, if you want FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE, you've gotta take FOR YOUR EYES ONLY with its creepy-ass Moore/Lynn-Holly Johnson love story. And if I'm paying $90 bucks for five movies, I don't want ballast, I want goodness. I understand the marketing impetus to package the films this way- many fans will gladly shell out just to own their favorites- but is a 007 Connery Classics Collection too much to hope for?

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Borat! (2006, Larry Charles)

For once, the hype is warranted. This movie is really goddamn funny in my opinion. Is there any depth to it otherwise? I'm not sure. I have a sneaking suspicion that a lot of the social relevance ascribed to BORAT by some of its most vehement supporters ("a scathing exposé of American hypocrisy!" et al) may be desperation from critics wishing to justify their glowing reviews of a movie that's this hilariously offensive. Given the way the film was made (turning Sacha Baron Cohen-as-Borat loose in real-life situation and seeing what transpires), the filmmakers doubtless cut out the people who didn't respond as they'd hoped and judiciously edited the subjects they kept for maximum effect. In a way, the film's guerrilla style owes as much to documentarians like Michael Moore, who place themselves center stage in their films and semi-ambush those they encounter, as it does to modern-day performance art comedy video like JACKASS and PUNK'D. But what places BORAT head and shoulders above any of these inspirations is Baron Cohen himself, who between this film and TALLADEGA NIGHTS has proven to be almost certainly the most prodigiously talented of the current crop of big-screen comics. He's the comedic equivalent of the Christian Bale character in THE PRESTIGE- an elusive figure who seemingly devotes all his energy and thought to making us laugh, and who will go to any lengths to do so. His commitment to the Borat character is astonishing, which helps the film immeasurably- if there were any sign of Baron Cohen breaking character, winking at the camera, etc., the whole thing would collapse. Even in strange sequences like a visit to a prayer revival or an already-legendary fight scene that manages to out-do Ken Russell, he's never less than 100% Borat onscreen. His chameleonlike skill and completely original comic style recall the late Peter Sellers, and if Baron Cohen ever manages to find his own Kubrick (an equally eccentric visionary who managed to recontextualize Sellers' genius), watch the hell out. Also, I watched BORAT with a packed house on opening weekend, which was the perfect way to experience it (I'm not sure I've ever heard so much laughter in a movie theatre). I'd love to see it this way again, and I believe I actually may have a chance to, since BORAT is shaping up to be a real phenomenon, and it no doubt won't be going anywhere for a while. Maybe I'll catch some of the jokes I missed the first time due to laughter... Rating: ***1/2.