So I found it surprising that “The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button” marked a turn, at least as far as I’m concerned, in content and direction for this prominent filmmaker. Initial skepticism of the 12A (I’m European) rating was quashed, purely because the content engaged with the audience right from the start. Out of the 700 people in the theatre last night, I think 5, maybe 6 got out of their seats for the bathroom. That’s unheard of in Dublin, I can assure you. This film is like a fairytale without actual fairies. And it’s not really until the end that we realise how many characters and little stories we’ve been introduced to.
I’m sure anyone reading this will be aware of the plot by now. There’s no need to recite it. And it’s safe to say you’ve probably seen the trailer also. Although Fincher treads on somewhat fresh ground with a more milder narrative, his eye for visual whoomf and persang still hold true. To put it in words, the film looks gorgeous. The scenes are painted with a quasi-sepia tone feeling, giving the impression that he either found the film in his basement, or he left the celluloid out in the sun for a week.
Either way it works.
Pitt does the job as the backwards-ageing Button with competence. His cg young/old self looks truly realistic and for a character that starts out primarily in cgi, I didn’t disconnect and shut off to it as I’ve done with so many recent movies. Even his voice (something which gets seriously overlooked with cg characters) was raspy and aged.
This film, like most of Finchers other movies, takes it’s time and paces appropriately. We’re hit with drama and humor almost simultaneously, neither stealing the show and spoiling the sense of balance.But it isn’t necessarily perfect. The “modern day” scenes set in the hospital feel a little too familiar and I’m thankful that they come in short enough bursts, because there’s so much blue light flying around in those scenes, that it’s almost depressing. One other thing that bothered me, and I have to watch what I say here, is how they deal with Benjamin visually towards the end of the film.
Not to ruin this for anyone, but I just felt like it was phoned in a bit, especially when they did such a good job until then. I actually heard two people in front of me sigh at one point.
But don’t let this irk you. If you ask me, you get a lot more than you lose with this film. For 2hrs+, it goes in nicely and it made me ponder life and death on the stroll home.
That’s all I got
]]>The film will appeal to fans of Yû Aoi even though there isn’t much range to her performance. What we get is exclusively the shy, sad, and awkward Yû Aoi with none of the radiant, confident, and smiling. She’s on screen almost the entire two hour running time so the appeal may come from sheer quantity more than anything else, but she performs well and demonstrates she is capable of carrying a film on her own even if the value of that labor remains a question mark.
The basic premise of the film is a little weak. Yû Aoi and a girlfriend agree to rent an apartment together so they can share costs and save money. They sign a lease and then Yû Aoi discovers that her girlfriend’s boyfriend will be moving in as well. On move-in day only the boyfriend shows up and he informs Yû Aoi that his (and her!) girlfriend dumped him and will not be moving in. Fuck that. The guy turns out to be a total jerk, of course. Amongst many other idiotic attitudes, behaviors, and talking points, when Yû Aoi adopts a kitten and the guy doesn’t like it, he throws it away, whatever that means, and we’re gifted with a shot of a dead kitty on the road. In retaliation, Yû Aoi throws away every single piece of her roommate’s property. The guy files charges and wins a criminal case against her, which she could have avoided by saying she had sex with the guy, even once, whether true or not, thereby making it a domestic issue and the police would’ve washed their hands of it. I’d proudly share that story at cocktail parties, but for Yû Aoi it’s a scarlet letter.
The film’s script has a number of weaknesses. Another one is Yû Aoi’s little brother. He gets a subplot of being bullied by his peers. At first, he and Yû Aoi are at odds with one another. Then she leaves and massive love shows up. The little brother is only there to play on the heartstrings of unconditional blood love thriving in the face of a cruel world as it kicks brother and sister about. His acting’s not emgaging and his story is banal. Yû Aoi, and the film, would have been better served if she were cast out on her own, alone.
Yû Aoi’s first stop in her search for anonymity finds her at a beach resort where everyone’s hair is lighter than hers and their skin is darker. Oops. Her next stop is a rural mountain village where there are no young people left—let alone anyone as beautiful as Yû Aoi. Things get a little creepy and it’s ironic that in this second stop the director achieves a nice symbiotic relationship between form and content but it only serves to bring the film to an unendurable lull. These rural village people are slow—in every way—and obstinate, and the film’s pace follows suit.
Yû Aoi’s final stop finds her in a semi-urban setting where she takes a job in a lawn and garden shop. This is where the “What if she finds love” card gets played, and we can only presume that deep down this is what Yû Aoi had been looking for all along because, even though she struggles against it at first, it’s pretty hard to fathom any sane interest on her part in what she ends up with so she must be settling. The film does finish with a nice little kick, if not swift, and it’s interesting that the reveal validates what you’re hoping was the case, as unlikely as it may seem, but it promotes a dishonest sympathy through failure rather than disgust by virtue of assholeness. Had it gone any other way, though, the whole thing would have been a disaster.
All in all, a reasonably pleasant two hours spent with Yû Aoi as she weaves her way through a mostly inept film. There’s nothing about the story which excites and other than Yû Aoi there are no characters worth paying attention to. The production values are good, though not remarkable in any way. If you are a fan of the actress, who does quite well in creating likable characters in the many smaller roles she takes on, One Million Yen and the Nigamushi Woman is worth seeing just to see her perform in a film that belongs entirely to her. But if you are a cinephile you’ll probably walk away non-plussed.
]]>http://www.toplessrobot.com/2009/06/tr_review_transformers_revenge_of_the_fallen.php#more
http://www.toplessrobot.com/2009/06/bonus_robs_transformers_2_faqs.php
The second link (his “day after thoughts”) is the funniest one - he basically chats with himself to figure out why the movie was so horrible. I had quite a few LOL moments with it.
enjoy
]]>Comedy is a difficult genre. Not only because tastes in humor vary wildly, but also because defining sub genres is almost impossible. Lars and the Real Girl contains very high doses of dry humor with a dark rim, but “dry humor” is a term with many interpretations. I’ve seen it used for films ranging from Groundhog Day to The Big Lebowski and even the likes of Scary Movie. And yet, Lars and the Real Girl isn’t like any of those films.
To me dry humor is humor with no real jokes. It’s delivered in a deadpan manner, served as drama but ultimately so freaky or weird that it becomes fun. My favorite example is Dai-Nipponjin as it takes the concept one step further and goes documentary style. But Lars and the Real Girl is a refreshingly good attempt seldom seen coming from an American director. It’s a lovely tragicomedy delivering drama and humor in impressively balanced amounts.
When Lars finally brings a woman home it turns out to be a doll. An anatomically correct doll, though that doesn’t matter much since Lars is a dedicated Catholic. His brother and expecting wife don’t really know how to handle it at first, but when the town community decides to play along with Lars he slowly builds up a social life. It’s remarkable how quickly the audience adapts to the situation as well. The reaction of the community is highly unlikely and almost entirely dictated by the feel-good vibe of the film, but at the same time we as an audience are quick to accept Bianca (the doll) as just another character in the film.
Typically the beginning is more focused on comedy while the ending has more dramatic impulses. Or maybe it’s because over the course of the film Lars’ character grows on you and the funny parts becoming more tragic as we get to feel for him. Lars is played by Gosling who’s putting in a tremendous effort. Strictly speaking his job isn’t too difficult as Lars is a typical character with obvious characteristics and some obvious mannerisms, but around halfway through the film he adds a much-needed amount of flesh and blood to his character, something quite rare for a comedy. The supporting cast is equally strong, especially brother Gus is a important asset to the humorous side of the film.
Visually not much is happening in the film. It’s not really Hollywood, it’s not really arthouse. Extremely functional and quite grey and boring (though that is a huge part of the setting), not much is done to make it stylistically stand out. The music is similarly bland but functional. I would usually fault a film for this but since this blandness becomes part of the setting it’s not really a big issue. Alternative, this is one of those rare films where drama and comedy are strong enough to carry the film on those merits alone.
Lars and the Real Girl is rare gem blending dry humor with well-dosed drama and a feel-good vibe. Many people seem to miss the humor but I’ve been smiling and laughing throughout the whole film. The acting is strong, making sure the somewhat bland presentation never becomes a real issue. Good stuff and refreshingly funny. 4.0*/5.0*
]]>I.G’s Blood being solely conceived as animation begs the question, is there any real need 9 years later for a live action adaptation? Well the almighty Dollar will always argue its case while droves of fans will shoot it down (and watch it anyway to reinforce their disdain) from the moment it’s announced in the pre-production stage. Even if the trailers did little to encourage my enthusiasm, Jeon Ji-hyun was the deal breaker that kept me off my high horse long enough to go in neutral and cautiously optimistic. I’m afraid ‘Gianna’ doesn’t exist and she never will in my mind - too many fond memories of her as the bossy girlfriend and tough cookie copper.
Introducing stars from overseas to an international audience is a tricky affair. Studios seem forever wary of giving them too much screentime and lambast them with supporting players. Such is the case for Chris Nohan’s Blood which over-zealously keeps Jeon’s performance grounded to the point where she’a almost entirely absent from the film’s best action scene. We know this young lady is no schooled martial arts sage off-camera but the fact is everyone loves and came to see the seifuku-clad, katana wielding fem and when we don’t get enough of that we don’t get satisfaction.
Blood isn’t a total washout because you can’t shake the feeling that it plays as straight as it can do under the circumstances. This is basically a Hong Kong film with all the trimmings, trying its damnedest to do things the Hollywood way with middling to little success. The curious line delivery alone got quite a few unintentional laughs and the funniest thing about it was that none of them came from the new English friendly Ji-hyun. Kitakubo’s Blood never really made light of the script perhaps because there wasn’t much of one to go by, but by doubling the running time they’ve taken plenty liberties and allowed it to wander dutifully into B movie territory.
The plot marginally scrapes beyond I.G’s Blood and takes a tepid stab at creating a mythology with the introduction of ‘The Council’, the secret organization responsible for sending in Saya and company to deal with the Demons. However they’re a secret organization in name only because we never hear about them more than once, not to mention the fact that Saya is ‘out of control’ and driven to eliminate head-honcho Onigen through her own accord with no regard for their wishes. We’re treated to brief flashbacks of Saya training under her Father’s trusted friend, Kato and get to hear a little in the way of the dogma behind the hunt. Ultimately it’s all too brief to let yourself be invested in her plight and so you have to gauge the film solely on what you came to see - the action.
‘From the makers of’ rarely gives you an insight into how crisp the choreography is going to be on any given film and Corey Yuen can be hit or miss at the best of times. The billing which links Blood to Crouching Tiger and Hero should be suitably ignored for your own good. As I alluded to earlier the film is HongKongywood in scope and so when it comes to fisticuffs they’ve been unable to resist tinkering at almost every turn with quick cuts, a glut of Snyder-esque time dips and some of the worst CGI blood ever seen. The Demons who shift from their human forms are also treated to pretty iffy stop-motion animation. So there’s little pure martial arts action going on save for Kato having the best brawl in the film with a band of ninjas. Blood has it’s moments, it’s flurry of incredibly well put together stunts, which would be better if Jeon didn’t react as heavily in that ‘oh shit I’m on a wire’ manner but they are in there to be enjoyed. Perhaps the one element that does most damage to the bread and butter of the film is the fact that Saya continually faces hordes of faceless, seemingly skill-less adversaries who pose no threat at all. If the choreography isn’t kept fresh then the film better test the protagonist…Blood doesn’t handle this conceit too well and as a result much of the fight sequences just feel far too repetitive.
Blood surely isn’t the film that’s going to launch Jeon Ji-hyun’s international career in any certifiably positive way, that is if she intends to preclude the trend of Asians being dropped into a host of poor American films before high-tailing it back home altogether. It’s hard to cite her as the root of the problem beyond her obvious lack of stunt experience because she’s already taken gracefully to the English language and conveys an interesting touch of melancholy that was absent from the character in the anime. Chalk it up to a flimsy script and Nohan’s apparent desire to beguile the audience at every turn with dodgy CGI and dodgy performances aplenty. Proof (not that it was required beforehand) that Blood - The Last Vampire was conceived as anime and should have remained as such. Shame!
]]>OK. That’s some hyperbolic praise. This film blew me away. The funny this is, though, I’m not sure I really got it, or got all of it. In a nutshell the film is about a thirty years young Korean man in search of his biological mother. With extras.
Having said that, and saying that this film touches on many of the related topics of child abandonment, identity, adoption, loss, being young pregnant and alone (not to mention some very pointed exposition on Korean nurseries and clinics), in very powerful ways, it’s not a message film nor an after-school special level catharsis. It’s way weirder, and more literary, and much more poetic. The film is more like a painting than a story. The second act is pretty much a riff on Albert Camus’ Le Malentendu. And what a second act it is. It reaches Shakespearean levels of emotional intensity that are downright scary, getting jiggy with some twisted Oedipal sidewinder concoction. I wouldn’t call this an art-house film, though. It doesn’t come off as pretentious or intentionally vague even though parts of it might seem random and inexplicable.
So what is it I didn’t get? The film opens abruptly with a scene, likely to cause you to recoil in your seat, of young girl in somewhat primitive circumstances having an abortion. It’s not explicit, more fly-on-the-wall view, but it’s potent. And I think it’s an abortion. Could be she is going to deliver the baby and sell it. Given the stage of her pregnancy the latter is more likely, and the film seems to want to ask if there is a difference. [UPDATE: upon a second viewing, it’s clearly option #2, but I’m leaving my error because I’m in favor of letting this represent my initial reaction] Either way, she is in full traumatized mode. The confusing part is that this girl continues to appear in the film, pregnant, with ambiguous results, in a sort of parallel storyline. I’m not sure if she is to represent the boy’s mother or simply another scenario. I’m not sure at what level this film plays with time, reality, representation, and/or dreams. It’s more like a visual poem than a movie and really only my left brain wants to know. There’s nothing frustrating or loose-endy about it if you just let it be.
After that first scene, the film settles into more standard drama for a bit, with a little cultural essaying and identity politics, as it introduces us to the young man who will be our protagonist in search of his biological mother. He is with his girlfriend who wants to support him but also proposes to him and suggests it might be better if the two of them start their own family instead. The young man says he’s not ready for that and abandons her to go find his mother.
I should point out that this young man was raised in Australia and speaks English. His Korean is broken at best and this fact adds to the difficult dreamlike second act when he returns to Korea and ends up at a broken down hotel run by two widows, one of whom may or may not be his mother. I’m not even going to begin to try and dissect the second act. Suffice to say, the ambiguity of this film is precise and spectacular. As is the performance of Park Ji-a as the younger of the two women inn-keepers.
Park Ji-a, apparently going by simply ZIA now, is the only person associated with this film that I know anything about. She’s been in a few Kim ki-duk films, most notably the lead in BREATH (SOOM), and I’ve always liked her oddball beauty and thin but extremely muscular frame. It’s not surprising to see her here as she has always seemed at home in Kim’s dreamy structures. And I think a Kim ki-duk directorial comparison is somewhat apt here, but I can’t tell you a thing about the person who directed this movie, AN Sun-kyong (Ahn Seon-kyeong?).
Park Sang-hun (Park Sang-un?) is very good as the young Korean man, and I guess I do know about Park Ji-Yeon who plays his girlfriend. Her role is mildly minimal but she does a fine job. I’m not sure who plays the young pregnant girl (Kim Ye-ri?) but her performance is amazing. She practically steals the show and you will feel very strongly for her. Maybe you’re wondering how something like this ends. Well, endings are the most difficult part, aren’t they? To tell you the truth, things wrap up with a slightly melodramatic resolve but I didn’t really care one way or the other about it. The film had to stop at some point, and it did. Sort of like this review. Come to think of it, I thought the ending was fine. I can’t imagine that even if you hate the ending that it would spoil the preceding journey. This is a film that should be seen by anyone interested in good and/or powerful film making. That’s all I’m saying. It’s not about the story or the message. It’s about the colors and the brush strokes. And the meter. Just wow.
]]>I sadly didn’t get to see Original at my local cinema. The theatrical run appears to have been limited, but I did stumble upon it by chance at the national movie rental franchise.
So what’s my first impression then? Well, first of I have to say that I was pleasantly surprised. Not because I expected it to be bad, but because it exceeded my expectations, something that’s always nice when watching a movie. The tone was also a bit more serious than expected, but that also turned out to be a pleasant surprise.
The story centers around Henry (named after both Henry Fonda and Henry Ford), a young man who after a brief recollection of his childhood, the death of his father and his mother slipping into a fantasy world out of grief, finally has managed to convince himself that he’s living a perfectly normal and ideal life.
Turns out things aren’t exactly that easy. In what feels like a minute or two he loses his girlfriend, his job and his apartment
And he then ends up deciding to start a restaurant in Spain with the client, Jon, who cost him his job at the bank.
And that’s just the beginning.
While going around making a home movie at IKEA in an attempt to maintain the illusion his mother is living in about her son being a successful military officer with a modern home and a beautiful wife, he meets Marie.
She is a bit of a radical feminist with a tendency to dress as Rosie the Riveter at occasion. Has a bird called Man Eater and makes her own brand of concussion-inducing feminist electro.
These are our main characters.
The story circles around the subjectivity of reality, being yourself and making your own decisions, hypnotherapy, cooking, a Danish gangster who looks like Elvis, his father who looks like a fisherman but is in fact a mafia boss of sorts, to name a few.
The likelihood of getting bored seems unlikely, but what might be a problem for some is the fact that the story tends to skip more like in television and suddenly place us somewhere else. I didn’t think it was a problem, but it might make it harder to immerse yourself in the illusion. This might depend on how much tv-time you chose to add to your movie-time though.
Although I felt the drama was more in focus the comedy was always present. Otherwise it might have slipped into more of a tragic tone, something that might have worked too, but it wouldn’t have been the same movie. And as it is now it’s a fun and somewhat thought-provoking movie from a Scandinavia that has surprised me with a lot of good viewing lately. Hopefully we can keep this up and show that the before-mentioned Scandinavian invasion was more than a hit and run.
Just watched it and decided to try and write a review. Criticism on the review itself would be welcome. Would talking about the technical aspects such as video, sound, editing, etc. be good or bad? I would have included it, but felt it was getting a bit long.
If you’ve got questions about the movie feel free to throw em in as well.
The life of a high class escort as being depicted by Steven Soderbergh and acted by Sasha Gray?
I was a bit cautious of it at first. Both the risk of it stepping into some sort of romantic drama territory with a sugar coated ending, and the doubting of Grays acting abilities were my main concerns.
Neither occurred, though in the second case it’s hard to tell. More on that later though.
As I whole I have to say that I liked it. At times it even reminded me of Lost in Translation, mainly when it comes to the camera and editing. That shouldn’t come as a surprise though, since both Coppola and Soderbergh likes to keep the camera rolling rather than cutting. Fine by me, as long as it looks good.
And in this case it does. It’s got a somewhat documentary feel to it, maybe because of the fragmented nature in which the story is told, or maybe because it’s shown to take place in the real world somewhere just before the election, with the political discussions that brings. Though it could also be because it doesn’t really focus on Chelsea, our main character. The focus is actually on the girlfriend experience the film is named after.
For those unfamiliar with it it’s what you could call a simulation of a relationship. You pay someone to act as your girlfriend. Sometimes that means a nice dinner, a movie, sex, or just sitting around talking. All of which occur at one point or another.
Chelsea acts more like an anchor to which the relationships in the movie are tied. We never really get to know her, and if this is a result of lacking acting abilities or a conscious choice to show Chelsea as the actor she actually is I can’t really tell. The fact that the reporter interviewing her also notices that you never get past her armor seems to indicate the later though.
In either case it works pretty well. Just don’t expect it to be a gripping drama or a deep character portrait and you should be fine.
Where the Wild Things Are
2009 is shaping up to be the year that finally delivered several long gestating, long-talked-about projects by promising filmmakers. J.J. Abrams’ “Star Trek” is one such project, in that it seemingly took forever to arrive, in terms of the time between the first promo posters to the final product. But that wait was nothing compared to Quentin Tarantino’s “Inglourious Basterds”, a film we’d been hearing about at least since 1997’s “Jackie Brown”. Somewhere in-between those two gestation periods, lays the many years that filmmaker Spike Jonze toiled away on his version of Maurice Sendak’s classic children’s book, “Where the Wild Things Are”. Lumped in with “Star Trek” and “Inglourious Basterds”, Jonze’s adaptation is in pretty good company. Does “Wild Things” live up? Absolutely. (Sidebar point of interest – all three of these films are based on pre-existing works, yet manage to stand their own ground in terms of creative solidarity.)
When it comes to adapting a relatively short picture book into a full-blown movie, the question is always, how will the filmmaker fill the time/pad the plot? The general assumption seems to be that the events of the book would simply be stretched out over ninety-plus minutes, with the gaps then filled in with made-up, new material. And hopefully – hopefully! – this material would do the source material justice. This train of thought is rooted in that age-old way of thinking that refuses to allow a film adaptation to stand on its own, as a wholly different work in a very different medium. (Granted, many popular literary adaptations, such as the early “Harry Potter” films invite this comparison with their nearly fetishistic devotion to the author’s original vision.) Spike Jonze clearly understands that cinematic adaptations are their own entities, (Look no further than his own adaptation of “The Orchid Thief” in “Adaptation”!) and consequently, his version of “Where the Wild Things Are” not only brings plenty of new character development and story to the barebones of the source material; he also isn’t afraid to appropriately deviate in tone, omitting entire portions of the book in order to allow his version to fully flourish.
The story is a simple one – a boy named Max (wonderfully played by newcomer Max Records), on the cusp of late childhood and all the loneliness and uncertainty which that brings, one night lashes out at his world (his pre-occupied but well-intentioned mom, played by Jonze veteran Catherine Keener, and his short-sighted tween-age sister), and then promptly escapes into a vivid world that lives only in his imagination. This is the land occupied by the Wild Things – a handful of large, fuzzy monster people with animal characteristics and highly expressive faces. Despite the lingering threat that the Wild Things seem to pose, with their carnivorous appetites and all, they see fit to crown Max their king. Under Max’s rule, they live the ideal lives of a nine-year old boy – which includes building a fort of Death Star proportions, and engaging in the ultimate dirt-clod assault game. Yes, it all reflects the complex psychology of protagonist Max, but the film does not do so in a blatant or heavy-handed way. Jonze is much more interested in making a film about what it’s like to be a nine-year-old boy.
This mission is evident from the early moments of the film, which are set in the real world. Everything is shot from the uneasy point of view of a young kid, and in just a few short minutes, the joys, euphoria, the pains and the loneliness, all come through in very authentic ways. Although Max’s world is very much a handmade world, devoid of any modern-day accoutrements one would all but expect to see in an American kid’s room (video games, sports paraphernalia, Batman, etc.) Jonze never lectures or panders to adult ideas of modern childhood. The film is not afraid to be a subtle experience, and more to the point, it’s not afraid to wallow in pacing inspired by a child’s logic and natural attention span.
Jonze, in his too-brief filmography (1999’s “Being John Malkovich” and 2002’s “Adaptation”) has never been afraid to let his films meander, and that is certainly the case here. Adults used to tightly focused plots will no doubt grow restless with the extended, freewheeling body of the film that takes place in the world of the Wild Things. I admit that I was tempted to consider this aspect a mark in the negative column, but as Jonze’s giddy camera wallowed in the mischievous joy of entire sequences of large boulders crashing down from cliffs (BOOOM!!!) and wanton destruction of tree after tree (SMASH!!!), I, in spirit, couldn’t help but be taken back to Max’s age. It’s one thing for an adult filmmaker to communicate childhood in the clearly emotional way Jonze does it in his real-world opening sequence, but to be able to communicate the structurelessness of a young boy’s world in such a fresh and wonderful way is truly noteworthy. It’s the difference between recalling childhood and actual childhood.
The land of the Wild Things is a visual feast. Perpetually bathed in magic-hour light, realized as freely composed (yet controlled) shots of sparse landscapes, its like “Days of Heaven” with monsters. Jonze and his crew have clearly gone to great pains to imbue the monsters with deeply felt emotions, despite their full-bodied Muppet appearances (courtesy, no less, of Jim Henson’s Creature Shop). Voiced by notables such as James Gandolfini, Forest Whitaker, Catherine O’Hara, and Chris Cooper, the monsters occupy just the right space between sympathetically fuzzy and perpetually strange. (Review continues in next post…)
]]>EIGA: Asian Cinema is a new bi-monthly journal of Asian cinema to be published in Australia (but sold online) starting in December. There’s a draft website up at http://www.fictionmachine.com if you want to take a look.
We’re currently on the look-out for reviews of Asian films for publication in the journal. If you’re interested, or wish to submit a review directly, please feel free to contact me at fanboy at gmail dot com.
(Moderators feel free to move/whack/chastite this message if it’s inappropriate or inappropriately placed.)
]]>