BLUE JASMINE (Woody Allen, 2013)

       Woody Allen has recently been quite hit-or-miss, but he truly makes whatever he wants, be it dramas (Match Point), vignettes (To Rome with Love) or experimental narratives (Melinda and Melinda). However, really nothing he has made has been terrible. Allen's last massive success was Midnight and Paris, a wackily set human comedy that drew great attention for its historical aspects, even though it had some weaknesses.
       However, with Blue Jasmine, Allen scores his best film in some time, and truthfully, one of his best period. Cate Blanchet's performance is simply unreal, and without a doubt the highlight of the film. It actually becomes uncomfortable to watch the nervous breakdowns of Jasmine about her state of life, relationship issues, and unsure future.
       Forced to move in with her sister after her husband is imprisoned for financial fraud a la Bernie Madoff, Jasmine moves to San Francisco, claiming she's out of money despite her first class plane ticket and refusal to sell her designer clothes. Alec Baldwin, in flashback, plays Jasmine's husband, and Baldwin may be the weakest link in the film. Not because of his performance, but  simply because of his underutilization. Baldwin doesn't do anything in particular, but really, this is an issue that only arises in retrospect.
       Great performances dot every minute of the film. Sally Hawkins is brilliant as Jasmine's meek "lower-class" sister. Bobby Cannavale is great as her current boyfriend, while her fling is portrayed by Louis C.K., who is good enough to not be completely distracting. However, the best performance in the film is by Andrew Dice Clay, the critical scorned abrasive comedian, as Jasmine's ex-brother-in-law, resentful towards his entirely family and emotionally reeling both times we see him- first trying to fit in with Jasmine's high society, and then hurt financially by Baldwin's money games. Michael Sturburg is both pathetic and unsettling as Jasmine's temporary employer.
       Allen structures the film in a certainly peculiar manner, abruptly changing from past to present. In fact, I was lost for a few seconds in a time change, although I quickly recovered and dove back into the film. Allen creates an interesting tone as well, mixing emotionally raw drama with dry humor, kind of like his typical style mixed with Cassavetes. It's a unique blend, and one I can't think of having seen before. Unflinchingly, I would declare Blue Jasmine as Allen's best film since (at least) Hannah and Her Sisters, which is no small feat, considering the strengths of Match Point, Mighty Aphrodite,  and Midnight in Paris. Allen creates a very real portrait of modern emotional turmoil with Blue Jasmine caused from betrayal, snootiness, and culture shock.

Spike Lee- Power through Freedom

       Currently a hugely controversial figure for his commentary and actions, Spike Lee is, for some reason, hated on the internet, although really, they should love him. Currently, it's hard for me to think of a filmmaker whose voice through his films is so loud and consistent throughout his body of work. However, that's not saying every film is the same, in fact, the truth couldn't be further from that.
       Lee's real-life, and thus cinematic, home is Brooklyn, and thus most of his films are not only set there, but reek of the attitude and life of Brooklyn. Lee got his start from independent filmmaking, and despite a relationship with Universal Pictures, has remained very much an independent filmmaker, denying the industry of content that would typically be consumed by the masses. Because of this, the "controversy" the internet brewed over his kickstarter is particularly absurd. The internet seemed to have zero problem with the Veronica Mars movie, even though that was being made by more people and asked for much more money. Lee has stated that he crowd-funded before Kickstarter existed, and that is very much true. 2012's Red Hook Summer was self-funded, and the film is truly very good.
      However, RHS, like much of Lee's work, features a trademark of his style some would see as a weakness- his pacing is a bit odd, and some aspects of the story are rushed or simply forgetten. FOr example, the revelation about the reverend in Red Hook Summer comes out of seemingly nowhere, while a building of a ten-year marriage of Bleek and Indigo in Mo' Better Blues is rushed at the end, allowing the story to end in a cycle, a neat technique but one that isn't needed.
         Lee is one of the rare modern filmmakers who constantly feels the need to innovate and experiment with his work, adding in odd camera angles and story structures. Perhaps one of the best example of this appears in Mo' Better, where Bleek calls the two women in his life by the others' name. the scene is shot as if they were in the same room, with Bleek turning different directions to address the different woman.
       Lee's career can be best defined by two films- Do the Right Thing, which I previously discussed at length, and Four Little Girls, a powerful documentary about the bombing of the Birmingham Baptist Church at the peak of the Civil Rights Movement. Lee understands this to a degree. After DtRT, Lee made MBM, certainly a good film, but far from the sprawling, powerful, and poignant the preceded it. Lee's career may have been in jeopardy if he followed Do the Right Thing with Jungle Fever, a similarly themed film that pales in comparison due to some hokey and goofy moments, despite some really great scenes and powerful performances.
        Lee does not get the reputation he deserves, often just criticized for controversial statements. Lee currently takes heavy heat because of his remaking of Oldboy, an inexplicably popular Korean film with a cheap, stupid ending. Even if one likes the original film, one should realize that it's not an unbridled masterpiece, and how interesting it would be to see Lee tell the story in his own way, with his own characteristic flair

MEDIUM COOL (Haskell Wexler, 1969)

       Hollywood, eternally five years behind culture because of long production schedules, finally caught up to the social revolution in the late 1960's, birthing the New Hollywood movement with films like The Graduate and Easy Rider. Haskell Wexler, famed cinematographer, decided to get to the heart of the issue of America and start a revolution in film at the same time. The film tells the story of a devoted and moral cameraman, John, who is placed amongst real footage.
        Medium Cool revolutionary technique was fictional use of cinema verite, blended with real documentary footage that aided the plot, as well as Easy Rider-esque editing and structure. John attempts to get the footage he wants to shoot, not the footage his unscrupulous boss desires so it can be sold to the police and FBI.
        The film bluntly states its mission in one of the earliest scenes, which is a long, documentary styled sequence in which a party discusses the merits of television as a medium and the moral responsibilities of a camera man. The opening shows John and his sound cooly looking at a highway wreck, and only after getting footage so they call the police. At the film's abrupt conclusion, we are once again presented the situation. However, Wexler does not give us an answer explicitly, as we must find our own. Should a cameraman be more camera or more man?
       The first half is John operating as a camera, going to various locations and filming what he is assigned. However, his humanity undercuts everything, forcing him to focus on a human interest story of a black man who returns money found in the cab. The story is unpopular with the man's friends, who see him as interested in the man because of his race and accuse John of attempting to make a circus out of the act ("Human Interest? Are humans going to be interested by us, or we humans?") while John's television boss finds the story bland, and eventually fires John.
       The next half shows John's humanity, undercut with his profession. He falls for a woman, Eileen, with a young son, Harold, who he cares deeply for. John takes a break and falls in love with Eleen, although he stays interested in society. One incredibly scene involved shaky, free footage of a hippie nightclub, using bright colors and odd cuts in harmony.
       The film's most memorable scene is the very end, in which Harold runs off while Eileen looks for him amidst the Democratic National Convention Riots. While Eileen is there, we see real footage of police brutality. Wexler predicted a riot at the convention, yet not the fact the police instigated the incident. The riot sequence is more a historial document that a part of the film's narrative, though it feeds the environment and tone of the film. It is edited in such a way that we never forget where we are: The convention, yet still with Eileen. The plot still lives even through the reality of the footage, a feat nearly impossible to pull off.
       However, Medium Cool is mainly remembered as a time capsule rather than a work of film. Truthfully, I admire its structure greatly, as well as the risks it took. The film succeeds at its ambitious reach, standing as both a history and a work of art.

LIFEBOAT (Alfred Hitchcock, 1944)

       I must apologize, non-existent readers, for missing a few days. I'll be busier now, as I'm returning to University in a few days, but I'll try to keep up. And what a way to get back- Hitchcock's birthday. I figured since I looked at Bunuel (and hopefully I'll look at his films one by one soon) I should cover old Hitch, a director everyone should admire. Covering all of Hitchcock is too much, so for this week I'll look at a few of his films, starting with one of his strangest and weakest.
       Lifeboat instantly had me hooked with the premise- survivors from a  WWII attack are stuck on a lifeboat, and take on a German from the U-Boat that sunk them. Hitchcock utilizes the limited setting well, as one would expect, allowing us to grow attached to the characters and the setting. The film is well directed and shot certainly, like all of Hitchcock, but surprisingly it feels bare, and even downright ugly under the surface.
       Perhaps the biggest problem lies in the script, based on a story by John Steinbeck, although the acclaimed novelist was supposedly displeased by the adaptation. The film is solely a product of its time. Bill, the African-American man on the boat, or portrayed as a weak stereotype, forever grateful to his white saviors. Even for the forties, where a modern audience needs to have some patience with stereotypes on screen, its exhausting and off-putting.
       But the biggest issue is even more of a remnant- the total villainization of Germans. The U-Boat captain is simply an evil twisted man, but is meant to resemble all Germans in an incredibly ugly caricature. The Captain attempts to steer out boat directly to his own ship, leading all of the survivors into capture, and freeing himself, and also hoards water from the others. The film concludes shockingly, as the survivors straight up beat the man nearly, if not completely, to death, throw him off the boat, and bash him with an oar to prevent him from boarding.
        However, the ugliest and most dated scene of the film is when the lifeboat is spotted by a Nazi ship, which is soon bombed. The lifeboat picks up another German, a young sailor, who draws a gun on the survivors. Now, doing this is not only pathetic, but also cowardly, further bringing down the reputation of the German in Lifeboat. And of course, the German in ultimately weak when confronted, seen when the survivors strip him of the gun easily, leaving his fate to them as they swarm him, and ending with the question:

"What do you do with people like that?"

       Even for a piece of propaganda, that's pretty terrible, especially with the Hitchcock and Steinbeck names attached. I know I dealt mainly with the plot, which is unfair in a way, since the film itself, from a technical standpoint, is pretty outstanding, exploring a small space well and bouncing back between characters, and films like Birth of a Nation get passes for controversial content because of their merit. While I think that could be true and one needs to look at the time period to analyze a film, Lifeboat's importance isn't on par with BoaN. However, Lifeboat should still be seen as a technical piece and viewed through the lens that the film is a trumped up propaganda piece when analyzing the messages.
     

MONSIEUR VERDOUX (Charles Chaplin, 1947)

       Today, Charlie Chaplin is perhaps the most recognizable icon in film history, and at least silent film's most recognizable icon. Chaplin is pretty much only remembered for his tramp character, which he lived under for his entire career. Even his 1940 transition to talking pictures, The Great Dictator, a highly political comedy which satirizes Adolph Hitler, uses a tramp-look-alike, even though Chaplin insisted that this was not the tramp. Chaplin only completely left the charcter behind in the dark comedy Monsieur Verdoux.
       Chaplin is the title character, a french family man who, after being left jobless in the stock crash, began to wed and murder wealthy woman, feeling completely justified in his actions to acquire money for his family. The idea was first conceived by Orson Welles, who was very close to directing (and partially writing) the film, but Chaplin grew uncomfortable with the notion of not having total control. Welles later said that his version would have been better, not that Chaplin's was bad. Welles, I believe, was right on both counts.
       Chaplin, of course, shows his acting brilliance as Verdoux, and the film shines at several moments. Perhaps the most blatantly hilarious scene involves Verdoux trying to kill a wife while fishing, and failing miserably at every attempt. Some supporting characters, like the family of one of his victims, are just fantastic, as the entire family seems to be completely incompetent.
       However, Chaplin was not a great director, and is stuck in the silent era with his flat images and closed spaces. Sure, its not bad, but Welles could have certainly made a more visually interesting film. Chaplin also seemed to struggle with the other side of film creation, not knowing what to do with the story of the actors. The plot of Verdoux's family is woefully underdeveloped, and has zero closure. It's assumed they die, or at least leave, but we never know. They simply evaporate from the film. The beautiful swedish ex-convict has zero development, and we hardly know her. It is fine when Verdoux lets her go, but when she reappears at the film's end, it is hard to care about her now. Another issue lies with the ending. Like the Great Dictator, we have another monologue, this time in the form of a closing court statement, but it now seems detached from the film. Dictator's monologue is seperate from the film as well, but at least has some ties. The sweeping statement from Verdoux, where the character points out society's acceptance of war and soldiers but condemns those that murder "one, instead of millions" is powerful, but oddly inserted.
       It is easy to see why Verdoux was unpopular at the time and resulted in a hit to Chaplin's reputation. Not only is the hero a murderer and without remorse, he is anti-religious, anti-war, and anti-nationalist, and is depicted as a certain gentleman. Chapin was later exiled for his communist sympathies, after Limelight. Despite Verdoux's flaws, and the fact that it could have been a masterpiece with a Welles-Chaplin collaboration, it is still a solid and entertaining film.

ONLY GOD FORGIVES (Nicholas Winding Refn, 2013)

     

         Maximization is the easiest way to hide terrible craftmanship. If you have nothing except sex, you have porn. Nicholas Winding Refn tries to prove that with nothing but violence you have art. Well, in a way, of course you do. Porn is art as well.
        Now, Refn wants us to believe there is a deep meaning behind the pretentious mess that is Only God Forgives. Sure, there's some "symbolism" alluding to a man's anger towards an ultimately powerful God, and futile attempts to betray God, and an ultimate penance. However, everything is so blunt and obvious, it requires zero work from the audience member. Now, people claim OGF gets bashed because people didn't expect an art film. True critics can adapt their expectations, as I did, but OGF  is just shallow and full of itself. But really, that shouldn't shock me.
        Like Refn's other work, OGF is flooded with bright colors and pulsing electronic music. The characters talk stiffly, and here, its essentially a self-parody of the language in Drive and the awful Valhalla Rising. While not awful, I must say that Drive is not the masterpiece many claim it is. The atmosphere is cool as hell, but the film is pretentious and dopey, obviously striving to be remembered as the "unconvential classic" that college pot heads have posters of in their dorm rooms. OGF lacks the cool atmosphere. The color pallet actually becomes boring as hell. However, the soundtrack is interesting, but unfortunately its piled upon layers and layers of uninteresting. Its like a layered dip made of rancid meat, curdled sour cream, acidic and slimy beans, soggy chips, wilted lettuce, and some pretty good Cheddar. Who the hell cares if the cheese is good? No ones going to notice.
         The film is just so obvious yet striving to stay edgy and mysterious, its just goofy. The violence, most of the time, means nothing. The Kareokee scenes are just goddamn stupid, as are scenes of Chang, one of the blandest villains I've ever seen, possibly even trumping the gangsters in Mud. Yeah, he's a warlord, but look how he treats his daughter!!! I mean, how many times have we seen that? I don't even think it's possible to count.
        I don't even know how else to convey that this film is awful, yet I understood every goddamned second of it. It's so shallow, yet think's its the deep end, and you an practically imagine a stoned Refn sitting at an end of a bed, explaining to you while using his hands animatedly "Yeah, but, Chang, man, he's like a God, and Ryan Gossling, I mean Julian, man, he's like, I don't know, uh, working for Satan. His family, they're sinners, man, and he fights and fights, until he realizes 'Oh shit, man.' But then God, I mean, Chang, man, his brand of forgivness is sacrifice. His hands, man. I'm gonna show his hands, cuz that's all he has, man. Oh, and red. I'm gonna show a lot of red. And Blue. Because of, like, satan and god, man." I am actually offended that Refn wants people to buy into this obvious, insulting, exceedingly violent for violence's sake piece of neon coated shit, and just depressed that people do.
       Refn has proven to me, without a doubt in the world, that he is a hack. Refn's filmography is a bastardized orphan of Kubrick, Lynch, Michael Mann, and Quentin Tarantino, yet has no idea what to do with his influences, so throws everything into a blender and pours out goddamn messes every time. At least Drive is watchable, even re-watchable, despite it's flaws and annoying tendencies and tones, but OGF is just unbearable.

Luis Bunuel Retrospective Pt. 3- LAST FILMS IN FRANCE

       After Simon of the Desert, a short personal film, Bunuel moved permanently went to work in France. Bunuel still lived in Mexico, but went back to France every few months to make a film. Here, Bunuel slowly became more avant-garde and unlearned much of his commercial narrative flair. This work is, in my opinion, his most daring, admirable and ambitious, and much of it has not been replicated since. All of Bunuel’s work from this period is preserved with high-quality prints, and is readily available, much of it published by the well-respected Criterion Collection.

       Belle de Jour and Tristana, both starring Catherine Deneuve, stick with rather traditional narratives, not that is in any way a bad thing. Denueve plays similar characters- repressed young woman restricted by their men. in Belle De Jour, Denueve is a sexually repressed housewife, while in Tristana, she is essentially held captive by her uncle, Fernando Rey in a role similar to Viridiana’s domineering uncle. Both films return to Bunuel’s themes of repression, and Tristana in particular features several religiously charged images, such as the massive bell over Toledo, showing the showing the power of religion over all.

       Bunuel’s late career is defined by a “trilogy” of absurd, abstract films he made in the late sixties and early seventies- The Milky Way, The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, and The Phantom of Liberty. All three have loose, sprawling narratives, and are only linked thematically. The Milky Way deals exclusively with religion, showing Bunuel’s issue with the organization, not the belief in Christ or in Christ’s teaching.

       The Milky Way follows two pilgrims on the Way of St. James, making their way to see a shrine (The Way of St. James was the original title of the bright strip of stars in the sky, and thus the film’s title). The two come across various oddities, including blind fortune tellers, odd banquets, and executions. The two seem to traverse through time and space, meeting figures dressed in all kinds of garb, from modern suits, to fancy cloaks, to simple sheets like Romans. The film ends with a powerful scene, showing Christ, who we see throughout the film as a real human, laughing and such, heal two blind men and ignore their requests to have their first sights explained to them while he states that his mission on earth is to tear humanity apart with his beliefs. The healed blind men follow Christ with their walking sticks, unable to cross a ditch without feeling across it. Although they now have the power of sight, they can’t see the world better at all, which is Bunuel’s opinion on religious enlightenment.

        Discreet Charm broadened its attack, mocking the upper society’s ambitions and fears, still laying into Christianity, with the powerful character of the vengeful priest, forgiving his parents’ killer on the guy’s deathbed moments before blowing his head off. The plot travels through dreams, stories, and dreams within dreams, focusing on a group of upper class friends who want to dine together, but simply cannot. The film is widely regarded as Bunuel’s masterpiece, winning him the Best Foreign Language Film Academy Award, and finally thrusting him into the public forefront. Sure, Viridiana, Exterminating Angel and Belle de Jour were well known, but Discreet Charm surpasses them all in name recognition.

         Bunuel then returned to some good ol’ fashioned surrealism with the ever-bizarre and free Phantom of the Liberty, a sprawling series of loosely connected vignettes, some basically operating as ideas Bunuel found interesting or humorous, jotted down, and then filmed. He explores all of his favorite themes in depth, with a young man sleeping with his Aunt, priests drinking and gambling but repelled by sex, and a young girl reported missing despite being in the same room as her parents and the police, and all adults directly addressing her. Perhaps the funniest and strangest image is when Bunuel returns to dining, having a group of upper-class friends sit around the table on toilets, talking only about deification, while the mere mention of food is repulsive. One man pulls up his pants, excuses himself, and asks the maid quietly where the dining room is. He talk himself in a small stall and opens a cabinet, revealing a chicken dinner he cuts into. The vignette satirizes the criteria of social selection- easily we can see how eating could be considered gross, and we could be trained to accept pooping as normal. In fact, pooping is more natural than easting, and much more universal.

         Bunuel’s final film, That Obscure Object of Desire, returns to a more traditional narrative but with a good amount of experimentation. The film tells the story of an older man, Fernando Rey, who falls madly in love with a young woman, played by two different actresses in alternating scenes. One actress is kind to our hero, while the other one openly taunts him and denies him of sex actively. The film is undercut with a deeply paranoid plot of terrorist takeover, showing the certain triviality of Rey’s quest.

        Four years after Obscure Object, Bunuel died at age eighty-three. Although I wouldn’t say he was forgotten, many of his films have been overlooked and are essentially unavailable in America. Tristana was just made available this year, while only three films- Obscure Object, Tristana, and Belle de Jour are available on Blu-Ray in America (although one can easily get an import of Discreet Charm and L’Age D’or on the high definition disc). Besides that, many of his later films are on DVD, while many of his Mexican films, I’d even say the bulk, are not even on a major DVD. Many exist on terrible prints, and some are not even available on a torrent website. Bunuel certainly gets respect, but certainly demands more. I urge that some company work on getting this master’s prints and finally doing them justice. I know there are financial factors at play, but I’m sure that consumers exist, and if a company like Criterion picks up the rights, the market will be created with Criterion’s tendency to build up buzz for under-appreciated titled, like what it did with the Pierre Etiax collection earlier this year. Perhaps Bunuel’s “lesser” works can be collected in an eclipse set, while many could be stand-alone releases.

         Bunuel still hold audiences to this day. His style is very straight-forward and unpretentious, nearly invisible at times but always working and shocking audiences with powerful themes and imagery. Thirty Years after his death, Bunuel is still remembered fondly and loved by many, and hopefully major interest in him will grow in the upcoming years.

MCCABE AND MRS MILLER

  Robert Altman, one of the American masters of cinema, at least in my opinion, made a major impact on the Western genre by essentially grounding it in reality with McCabe and Mrs. Miller, taking several tired cliches, reverting them, and adding in a dose of realism. McCabe, an odd gambler and unconventional hero, attempts to build up a railroad town, bringing in prostitutes, gambling and pubs, turing the quiet snowy land into the quintessential wild west town, drawing eyes from major businesses. Mrs. Miller comes in with her own prostitutes to help McCabe, and the two embark on an ultimately doomed relationship.
        The film’s cinematography is absolutely gorgeous, using long takes and slightly overexposed film to give it a washed out, old-time sepia look. The film perfectly utilizes one of my favorite musicians, the incomparable singer-poet Leonard Cohen, using several tracks from his debut album. The rest of the sound, however, is the film’s greatest weakness. It seems Altman and his crew miked  every person, then decided to mix the track later, giving it a foggy, muddy noise.
       McCabe is essentially a dirt bag, unscrupulous and greedy, but falls for the opium addicted Mrs. Miller, who like-wise falls from him. Warren Beatty and Julie Christie are both fantastic, putting aside their real-life romance to portray two lovers who are completely incompatible.
       McCabe dooms himself by attempting to play hard ball with two representatives of a massive corporation, who resent his games and leave before he can accept their offer. The company sends a hulking man with two toughs to end McCabe, but unlike most brutes seen in Westerns, the huge man is sophisticated, intelligent, and suave, easily outsmarting and weakening McCabe psychologically and ruining his reputation in town. Now, McCabe is alone, and must defeat the enemies.
       But Beatty is no Gary Cooper, and does not march out into the streets to fight against his foes. McCabe is a weasel, and thus acts like one, or at least the audience would view him as cowardly if expecting a Western. Truthfully, it is just realistic. He shoots his enemies in their back, a major faux pas in Western lore, and sneaks in hide in the fresh falling snow.
       Christie, meanwhile, feeds her addiction, and smokes opium while McCabe defeats the leader of the posse, but dies in the process. Ultimately, the film is about the relation between the title characters, and its doomed, incompatible nature, having to end on the definitive note of McCabe dying alone in the snow.