Film is Truth 24 Times a Second

I want to briefly mention a couple of movies that came out last week, released for the first time on DVD — Straight Time and Prince of the City. If you like ’70s crime films like Serpico or The French Connection, you really owe it to yourself to check these out.

Straight Time is based on the book No Beast So Fierce by Edward Bunker, a long-time convict who wrote novels about prison life (and also played Mr. Blue in Reservoir Dogs). It stars Dustin Hoffman as a parolee trying to go straight and failing — Gary Busey and Harry Dean Stanton play his buddies and M. Emmett Walsh plays his parole officer — so, clearly, with a cast like that, you can’t go too far wrong.

Prince of the City is about police corruption — it’s sort of the flip side of Serpico (both were directed by Sidney Lumet). It stars Treat Williams and Jerry Orbach — I don’t think I’ve seen either of them better in anything else, ever.

I’m really pleased that these are finally available. Recommended.

I watched a documentary called Whole, which is about people who want to be amputees, and a couple of people who have taken that step and become amputees — one using dry ice, another a shotgun. They all have deep feelings that one of their limbs does not “belong” to them; that it’s a foreign object that isn’t part of them. A phrase that comes up several times is that they, paradoxically, feel “more complete” without the offending limb. It doesn’t come across like a weird sexual fetish thing — these people are totally normal except for the fact that they have a mental disorder that tells them that they would be happier without one of their limbs.

It’s not a particularly well-made documentary from a technical standpoint, but the subject matter is so singularly bizarre — this is something that never, ever occurred to me before — that it’s definitely worth watching. There’s no graphic footage, but there are some graphic descriptions, and some will find the subject matter extremely disturbing.

Unlikely as it seems, Hal Hartley has directed a sequel to his 1997 fable Henry Fool. In the original Fool, the titular character — a pretentious, big-talking, and not necessarily talented writer — insinuates himself into the lives of Simon Grim, a seemingly simple-minded garbageman, and Simon’s sister Fay.

Henry convinces Simon that Simon is a great poet, and Simon becomes a celebrity (the film takes it as an item of faith that poets are as idolated much as movie stars and rock stars are), while Fay falls for Henry’s dubious charms.

The film is dry, deadpan, sardonic — fans of Hartley expect and appreciate all this, while others might find it stilted and precious. I do want to mention that the final shot is one of my favorite final shots ever, although the suspense, the emotion, and the ambiguity are all kind of spoiled by the sequel — so see Henry Fool first.

Actually, see Henry Fool first in any case. Fay Grim is an interesting film, but I think it’s mostly interesting as a companion piece to Henry Fool. In it, we find out that Henry Fool was not what he appeared to be, and Fay goes on an international mission — full of espionage and intrigue — to find him and his diaries. It’s a little bit like Hartley directing Syriana – all the secret agent stuff is hopelessly convoluted and it’s nearly impossible to figure out who everyone is and what their motivations are. For the first two-thirds or so, the film is in on the joke — it falters a little in the final third, when it starts taking itself seriously.

Fay Grim is like an alternate universe take on these characters — “What if Henry Fool was an international spy?” — but, like the Marvel “What If…?” comics, I’m not sure how interesting it would be without prior knowledge of those characters. In some ways, it’s similar to Smoke and Blue in the Face, two films by Wayne Wang. When the filming of Smoke was finished, much of the cast and crew decided to take another few days and improvise an entirely new film about the same characters. Blue in the Face, the resulting movie, is fun if you want to hang out with these people for a little while longer, but isn’t much of a movie by itself.

Fay Grim doesn’t have that specific problem — it’s almost too much movie for it’s own good — but, like Blue, it works best if you are already familiar with the characters — and you want to see how the lives of Henry, Fay, and Simon might have turned out if they lived in the same world as James Bond and Jason Bourne.

A few different movie-related topics here: some short films available online, a couple audio interviews, and various artwork tangential to motion-pictures.

SAUL BASS

Saul Bass was undoubtedly one of the finest designers of credits sequences, posters and incidental ephemera in the history of filmmaking. He was able, in the few short minutes afforded the opening titles, to create stylish masterpieces of mood and evocation. Where before the cast and crew were rudimentarily identified like a grocery list, now their names were thoughtfully incorporated into a scheme which seemed an integral part of the film, rather than just a bookend to it. Bass’ manipulation of hand lettering and simple animation, his judicious selection of photos and one or two flat colors shame the contrivances of today’s CGI title sequences. A nice selection of his film work is in evidence here (including his outstanding work with Alfred Hitchcock - in fact, it should be noted that it was Bass, not Hitchcock, who storyboarded and was responsible for the famous “shower” sequence in Psycho). Bass also produced an array of universally known corporate icons, logos and “visual identities” in his highly influential career.

HERZOG AND “PLANET EARTH”

Two radio discussions now, the first with Werner Herzog about his motivations for assembling the documentary Grizzly Man; the second an interview with Huw Cordey, one of the producers of the recently released BBC series Planet Earth, wherein he considers the difficulties and rewards of a project with such an enormous scope, as well as the moral issues of observing/engaging with nature, etc.

THE “ART” OF FILM REVIEWS

These two sites feature artwork made in response to films the artists have recently seen. Rick Trembles writes and draws reviews in the form of a comic book page; Mike Reddy creates a single illustration based on the film at hand.

FINALLY, THE MAGIC OF COMPUTERS: FILMS ONLINE

Happy 30th birthday, STAR WARS!

Playing a bit of catch up, I recently watched La Haine. Hailed for it’s “gritty” (aka Black and White) portrayal of inter-urban Parisian life in the ghetto, this directorial effort from actor Mathieu Kassovitz (y’know, Amelie’s boyfriend) is both energetic and slightly aloof, politically relevant while managing to keep me awake at 3 in the morning.

A recurrent theme throughout the film is first and foremost civil unrest, owing a lot to class discrimination and racism. Vincent Cassel and his friends are at the lower end of the food chain, playing parts in riots and subjected to police brutality and frowned upon by middle-to-upper class society. Cassel plays the role of Vinz, who is just as funny as he is unpredictably savage. I was really quite surprised here at this sophomore attempt from Kassovitz, which has a pretty good sense of cinematography and pacing, the film never really lulls and stands the test of time (so far). Kassovitz would later go on to make Gothika, so yeah, his career seemingly peaked here. At its heart, the film is a little frustrating, as you can only watch as these characters fall down the tree of life and hit every branch on the way. They don’t really command sympathy, but we can see where things may have been able to take a better turn in their lives, be it by their actions or societies. Not perfect, but worth checking out (fans of City of God will love this predecessor).

On another note, I can’t believe that this hasn’t been more widely known (nor renting more) amongst Generation Xers and Yers, as the success of Trainspotting and Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels would assuredly indicate an interest in the underbelly of European life during the mid 1990’s (perhaps because it is a French film, cutting off a larger, accessible audience). Stylistically and working with a bit more relevance, La Haine seems a bit more original than its dissociated cousins. Check it out.

On the off-chance that there’s anyone still unaware that Pan’s Labyrinth is amazing, here’s a link to the review I wrote for it after I saw it at the Pickford.

Link

The Seattle International Film Festival, which begins on May 24 and runs through June 17, is one of the largest such events in the world, both in terms of the number of films screened and the head-count of attendees. The schedule for this year’s SIFF can be found at their website; tickets are available now, and I suggest purchasing them ahead of time if you have hopes of seeing anything specific.

Film fests are generally a good place to see newer films - by established directors and novices both - before (if!) they ever make it to your local theater, but to be honest I’m more interested in the opportunity to see older favorites on a big screen with fellow fans. In the past at SIFF I’ve seen such films as Days of Heaven, Playtime, and Stanley Kubrick: A Life in Pictures. This year they’ll be showing, among other classics, The Big Combo (excellent film noir), Captain Blood (transvestite pirates, if you’re into that sort of thing), A Cottage on Dartmoor (an earlier film by Anthony Asquith, who also made the brilliant Pygmalion and The Browning Version), The Damned Don’t Cry (never seen it, but it looks good), Gunga Din (early and somewhat atypical Cary Grant performance), and Peter Weir’s The Year of Living Dangerously.

Some of the newer films that piqued my interest are The Boss of It All (new Lars von Trier), The Devil Came on Horseback (doc about genocide in Sudan), The Fever of ‘57 (doc about Sputnik), Interview (Steve Buscemi’s latest directorial effort), In The Shadow of the Moon (another doc about the space exploration), Lake of Fire (doc about abortion by American History X’s Tony Kaye), The Last Winter (most recent film by Larry Fessenden, whose earlier trilogy of horror films - No Telling, Habit and Wendigo - are some of the finest and most truly independent genre films of the last decade), Manufactured Landscapes (looks to be a visually stunning doc about the effect of work and industry on the environment), Murch (doc about one of the best editors and most influential sound designers in the history of filmmaking), Rescue Dawn (Werner Herzog’s latest, featuring a predictably withered Christian Bale as a prisoner of war), Retribution (latest from Kiyoshi Kurosawa, whose Cure is my favorite horror film since who knows when), Scott Walker: 30 Century Man (doc about one of the most enigmatic and brilliant pop musicians of the last 50 years), Syndromes and a Century (newest film by Apichatpong Weerasethakul, director of the stunning Tropical Malady) and Vinicius (doc about Vinicius de Moraes, one of the architects of Bossa Nova).

Several films they’ll be showing we actually already have on DVD: John Cage’s One 11 and 103, Lisa Gerrard: Sanctuary, Yossi & Jagger, Ballets Russes, The Bothersome Man and the above-mentioned The Damned Don’t Cry.

And of course there are hundreds more, ranging from every kind of documentary to homemade horror flicks to typically bland and predictably quirky “indie” fare. It’s a cliche to say this, but there really is something here for just about everyone, and I’d recommend you make the trip to Seattle if you’re the least bit interested in any of the films they’ll be showing.

Now, I make no claim to be a real, true film-buff. Yes, I know some things here and there, enough to get by, but there are still some films out there I haven’t seen or heard of. I recently stumbled upon Two Men in Town. Oddly enough, I have no idea how I discovered it. At any rate, it stars two of the more intriguing French actors, Jean Gabin (Grand Illusion, Touchez Paz au Grisbi) and Allain Delon (Le Samourai, Un Flic). I’d never thought these two would be in a film together (let alone a couple of others which are out of print, although we have Any Number Can Win on VHS).

The story has Delon’s Strabliggi as an ex-con who has just gotten out of jail, rehabilitated and educated by Gabin’s Cazeneuve. At the heart of this we see a bond truly made between the reformed criminal and the man who saw redemption in him. Upon his release, the cop who put Strabliggi away continues to pester and accuse the ex-con of dealing in his old ways, leading to the films sad and tragic ending. The film’s director, Jose Giovanni, was actually on death row once, strengthening the film’s political edge and outcry against the death penalty.

Delon and Gabin work quite well together, Gabin as warm and sad as ever, and Delon struggling as a man with a marked record trying to lead a normal life. Gabin specifically made me believe that his character could turn any hardened criminal around, and show them life after prison. On another note, having just watched Paths of Glory, I have many questions concerning how French courts conduct themselves, and if it is indeed as fierce and perhaps cruel as depicted, as both films do not paint a pretty (nor fair) picture.

This is not a perfect film, but one that is inheritantly touching, leading you to care about these people, and ultimately feel sorrow with how things turn out. It is a film questioning human nature, how to deal with crime and criminals, to what end we find (and are satisfied with) justice, and if such a thing even exists.

With all apologies to my street cred, I have to say that I liked Music and Lyrics quite a bit. I wouldn’t recommend it if you don’t find Hugh Grant charming — there’s quite a lot of skating on that charm here — or if you hate romantic comedies or, you know, music in general.

The songs are written by Fountains of Wayne’s Adam Schlesinger — I’m not a huge Fountains of Wayne fan, but one thing that’s tough to find is a movie about pop music that has pop songs that are worth listening to. I can’t stand movies about bands who “make it big” while their songs are duller than a comatose James Blunt swaddled in foam rubber. This movie has a couple of good tracks, especially the great ’80s supposed-smash-hit “Pop! Goes My Heart” (”I said I wasn’t gonna lose my head / but then POP! [newwavedrumsound] goes my heart”).

The last movie before this that had a “hit song” that you could actually believe was a hit song was Dreamgirls, I guess (I really liked “Cadillac Car”), and before that? Probably That Thing You Do! featuring songs by…Adam Schlesinger.

Anyway. It’s fun and frothy and probably not particularly accurate re: the way the contemporary pop world operates, but I enjoyed it.

Linda Linda Linda follows a group of Japanese schoolgirls for three days as they try to get ready for a “Rock Festival” at their school, a process that is complicated by the fact that they have just recruited a new singer, a Korean exchange student whose shaky grasp of Japanese causes some communication difficulties.

Actually, the language barrier may not matter, since most of the characters have difficulty communicating with one another, preferring instead to stare awkwardly at (or past) each other in hunched silence, as the camera sits, motionless, waiting. But if the movie is purposefully short on closure, it nevertheless has some really pretty great musical catharsis.

The Painted Veil is based on a novel by W. Somerset Maugham, and stars Edward Norton and Naomi Watts as a young married couple in the 1920s who travel to small-town China during a cholera epidemic. He’s there because he’s a bacteriologist; she’s there because he is punishing her for her infidelities.

They were married without really knowing each other, and once in China, finally grow to do so mostly by living around the edge of each other, each showing no interest in sitting down and talking things over. He dives into his work with little outward concern for anything else; she grows increasingly bored, finally begging the nuns at the local convent (including Diana Rigg!) to find some tasks for her to do.

My lovely and brilliant wife says that she really appreciated the emotional depth of the characters — I’m not sure what that means, so I’ll just say: if you’re sad that half of Merchant Ivory has passed away, you should definitely check it out.