Somebody asked Quentin Tarentino to make a list of the 20 most important movies of the last 20 years. So, in no particular order, he posts the list.
I saw the first movie on the list a week ago: "Battle Royale" by Kinji Fukasaku. Terrible.
Then I saw another movie: "Audition" by Takashi Miike. Even worse.
I guess I had a right to be suspicious: "Fight Club" and "The Matrix" are on the list, but "The Departed" is not.
I can be fair (despite the fact that I spent my time watching those awful movies): the list tells you more about the list maker than anything else. And if the list maker is a filmmaker then the movies are ones that are intriguing to that artist. Maybe they're inspirational, maybe they're future source material, but artistic merit takes a back seat. It's OK. Tarentino doesn't pretend to be a critic.
You can say the list is useful to help you understand the filmmaker, but what's the point? You'd just be travelling down Intentionality Lane, trying to figure out what's going on in sombody's head instead of looking at what's on the screen.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Re-making Italian movies
Peggy told us about a new Robert DeNiro film that's a re-make of an Italian film she saw in college.
So I went to Netflix and instead of finding the DVD I found this grumpy Netflix review:
Why are studios remaking so many movies? Can't they find an original decent script? Everybody's Fine is a remake of the Giuseppe Tornatore film (the director of Cinema Paradiso) called "Stanno Tutti Bene" which translated means - hold your breath - "Everybody's Fine". The Italian film is charming, and beautifully shot. Why not just watch the original instead - rather than some Americanized remake. It would be a great addition to the library here.
So maybe they'll take this guy's advice. I have seen Cinema Paradiso and it was pretty good, but a real tearjerker.
BTW: Netflix lists "Everybody's Fine" under "Tearjerkers"
It's a fact: some very good re-makes of Japanese films have been made, but when anybody tries a re-make of an Italian movie, the results are usually pretty terrible. (Can anyone think of a good one?) On top of that, every movie where Robert DeNiro plays somebody's father has been bad so far, so I'll struggle to be open-minded about "Everybody's Fine." The omens are not good.
I wasn't going to bring up "Harry and Tonto" (1974) although I just saw it last week for the first time, but it fits the pattern. Art Carney won the Oscar that year (he beat Al Pacino in "The Godfather" and Jack Nicholson in "Chinatown") by playing an old man who's evicted from his NYC apartment and goes on a road trip - yes, it's a road movie. It's slow-going and poorly made and while I'm watching it I realize that the director, Paul Mazursky, took the subject matter of "Umberto D" (the indignities of modern old age), the structure of "La Strada" (a road trip with a lot of kooky characters) and the ending from "La Dolce Vita" (the beach - with all its fuzzy symbolism). Sure enough, yesterday I read the synopsis of a documentary about Fellini and it includes an interview with, you guessed it, Paul Mazursky, no doubt talking about Fellini's "influence."
A feminist critic from the 70's or 80's once said that if they re-made "Bicycle Thief" (1948) with a mother and a daughter instead of a father and a son, the movie would just be a tiresome melodrama and - maybe not for the reasons she was thinking of - she was right.
So I went to Netflix and instead of finding the DVD I found this grumpy Netflix review:
Why are studios remaking so many movies? Can't they find an original decent script? Everybody's Fine is a remake of the Giuseppe Tornatore film (the director of Cinema Paradiso) called "Stanno Tutti Bene" which translated means - hold your breath - "Everybody's Fine". The Italian film is charming, and beautifully shot. Why not just watch the original instead - rather than some Americanized remake. It would be a great addition to the library here.
So maybe they'll take this guy's advice. I have seen Cinema Paradiso and it was pretty good, but a real tearjerker.
BTW: Netflix lists "Everybody's Fine" under "Tearjerkers"
It's a fact: some very good re-makes of Japanese films have been made, but when anybody tries a re-make of an Italian movie, the results are usually pretty terrible. (Can anyone think of a good one?) On top of that, every movie where Robert DeNiro plays somebody's father has been bad so far, so I'll struggle to be open-minded about "Everybody's Fine." The omens are not good.
I wasn't going to bring up "Harry and Tonto" (1974) although I just saw it last week for the first time, but it fits the pattern. Art Carney won the Oscar that year (he beat Al Pacino in "The Godfather" and Jack Nicholson in "Chinatown") by playing an old man who's evicted from his NYC apartment and goes on a road trip - yes, it's a road movie. It's slow-going and poorly made and while I'm watching it I realize that the director, Paul Mazursky, took the subject matter of "Umberto D" (the indignities of modern old age), the structure of "La Strada" (a road trip with a lot of kooky characters) and the ending from "La Dolce Vita" (the beach - with all its fuzzy symbolism). Sure enough, yesterday I read the synopsis of a documentary about Fellini and it includes an interview with, you guessed it, Paul Mazursky, no doubt talking about Fellini's "influence."
A feminist critic from the 70's or 80's once said that if they re-made "Bicycle Thief" (1948) with a mother and a daughter instead of a father and a son, the movie would just be a tiresome melodrama and - maybe not for the reasons she was thinking of - she was right.
Friday, November 13, 2009
About Ridley Scott
The auteur theory holds that bad movies made by auteurs are more interesting than good movies made by lucky amateurs. Think Ridley Scott's worst ("GI Jane"? "Hannibal"?) vs. "Rocky."
Scott's style used to be described as "atmospheric." As if he'd been hypnotised as a young boy by the dust particles trapped in the beam of a movie projector, he'd fill up his movies with shots of dusty, steamy air, with lightbeams aimed at the camera, alternating with the darkness of some moving barrier. I'm thinking of all those electric fans in "Black Rain" and, the smoky Film Noir exteriors of "Blade Runner" and of course, those slimy dripping interiors of "Alien." You know you're looking at good mise-en-scene when you can identify the director from a still. I just saw "American Gangster" and he seems to have tired of all this and is now working in a no-frills Hollywood action style.
When "Alien" was first released, I read that Scott had "previewed" the film and had re-cut the last 15 minutes based on the audiences reaction (or lack of reaction.) I remember being very turned off by this, thinking "Here's a guy who's given millions to make a movie and he's learning on the job." Turns out this previewing business is a common Hollywood practice that I had never heard about. Even Hitchcock did it. (Speaking of Hitchcock, the actress Veronica Cartwright, one of the crew gobbled up in "Alien" played the little sister in "The Birds.")
And speaking of movie stills, are you guys familiar with Cindy Sherman? She's just the greatest living American photographer (go ahead and name a better one). She's been photographing herself dressed up every which way and she's been doing it for awhile now and she's very, very funny. Anyway, she made a series of photos (Untitled Film Stills) that look like movie stills from movies from the 50's and 60's. None are inspired by a specific movie, and that's part of the trick: the more movies you've seen, the more you look at her photos and think you've seen that movie.
Scott's style used to be described as "atmospheric." As if he'd been hypnotised as a young boy by the dust particles trapped in the beam of a movie projector, he'd fill up his movies with shots of dusty, steamy air, with lightbeams aimed at the camera, alternating with the darkness of some moving barrier. I'm thinking of all those electric fans in "Black Rain" and, the smoky Film Noir exteriors of "Blade Runner" and of course, those slimy dripping interiors of "Alien." You know you're looking at good mise-en-scene when you can identify the director from a still. I just saw "American Gangster" and he seems to have tired of all this and is now working in a no-frills Hollywood action style.
When "Alien" was first released, I read that Scott had "previewed" the film and had re-cut the last 15 minutes based on the audiences reaction (or lack of reaction.) I remember being very turned off by this, thinking "Here's a guy who's given millions to make a movie and he's learning on the job." Turns out this previewing business is a common Hollywood practice that I had never heard about. Even Hitchcock did it. (Speaking of Hitchcock, the actress Veronica Cartwright, one of the crew gobbled up in "Alien" played the little sister in "The Birds.")
And speaking of movie stills, are you guys familiar with Cindy Sherman? She's just the greatest living American photographer (go ahead and name a better one). She's been photographing herself dressed up every which way and she's been doing it for awhile now and she's very, very funny. Anyway, she made a series of photos (Untitled Film Stills) that look like movie stills from movies from the 50's and 60's. None are inspired by a specific movie, and that's part of the trick: the more movies you've seen, the more you look at her photos and think you've seen that movie.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Metasystems - a brief note
Talking about metasystems was fun in the 70's and 80's, but once the print journalists got hold of the concept, they beat it to death, and it's still dead. (My favorite metasystem is from TV: those two old guys on the balcony cracking jokes on "The Muppet Show." The jokes all reference the show in progress, so it's all there: self-referential humor in a framing device that criticises criticism.
I'll be brief: after looking over my blog entries I'm not seeing well-reasoned arguments, I'm seeing an outline. The whole thing looks more like a lesson plan for a Film Appreciation course that I may teach someday.
The current technology for watching movies suits me just fine: Netflix DVD's (soon to be replaced by all-streaming-all-the-time-every-movie-ever-made). This gives movie-watching an anti-historical feel. So why should I be cranky about the state of film comedy today, when I can watch Fatty Arbuckle tonight?
I'm thinking of William Butler Yeats. (Remember him? He's what you guys would have read in Chaminade, if we were in Ireland, instead of "Invictus".) Yeats had this rather terrifying way of looking at cultures: there are great ones, and then there are worthless ones. Worthless ones! I was raised in the 60's: "It's a Small World" and "The Family of Man." We were taught to try to appreciate all cultures: everyone must have something good to contribute...
Instead Yeats had this attitude that some cultures were (I think he used the words) "tired, infertile, weak." Well, if he could think that about an entire culture, then I don't feel so bad being disappointed about the decline of (what's now called) physical comedy.
On a more positive note, I can quote Richard Ellman, the biographer, that "we're still struggling to be (James) Joyce's contemporaries." And that's how I feel about some of the more difficult movies of the 20th Century: they speak to us now, even if the presentation (on the small screen) may not be perfect.
I'll be brief: after looking over my blog entries I'm not seeing well-reasoned arguments, I'm seeing an outline. The whole thing looks more like a lesson plan for a Film Appreciation course that I may teach someday.
The current technology for watching movies suits me just fine: Netflix DVD's (soon to be replaced by all-streaming-all-the-time-every-movie-ever-made). This gives movie-watching an anti-historical feel. So why should I be cranky about the state of film comedy today, when I can watch Fatty Arbuckle tonight?
I'm thinking of William Butler Yeats. (Remember him? He's what you guys would have read in Chaminade, if we were in Ireland, instead of "Invictus".) Yeats had this rather terrifying way of looking at cultures: there are great ones, and then there are worthless ones. Worthless ones! I was raised in the 60's: "It's a Small World" and "The Family of Man." We were taught to try to appreciate all cultures: everyone must have something good to contribute...
Instead Yeats had this attitude that some cultures were (I think he used the words) "tired, infertile, weak." Well, if he could think that about an entire culture, then I don't feel so bad being disappointed about the decline of (what's now called) physical comedy.
On a more positive note, I can quote Richard Ellman, the biographer, that "we're still struggling to be (James) Joyce's contemporaries." And that's how I feel about some of the more difficult movies of the 20th Century: they speak to us now, even if the presentation (on the small screen) may not be perfect.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Rashomon (1950)
During last year's election, the NYT made fun of European political commentators (especially French ones) who could only talk about American politics using metaphors from Westerns with their gunslingers, show-downs, and high-noons. I think we're in the same frame of mind when it comes to Japan, thinking of samurai and sword-play.
"Rashomon" is a great antidote to that: a crime story involving poor, rural Japanese peasants of the 19th century. The same story is told four different ways. The movie won the Oscar for best foreign film and was, in its day, the highest grossing foreign film in the US. So this is not an obscure movie: it was mentioned in the Watergate tapes made in Nixon's office. One of Nixon's aides is describing how different viewpoints can change how a story's told, "you know, like "Rashomon."
That business of telling the same story different ways has been imitated by a few movies and, for some reason, quite a few knuckle-headed TV shows, but none worth mentioning. The best example, is culturally far away, indeed, the first four books of the New Testament. But it's not as far away as you might think: the truth is, the director, Akira Kurosawa, although successful in Japan, was looked upon by the Japanese as an American-style director. He admitted that his biggest influence was... John Ford.
So "Rashomon" is a "must-see", not only for original story-telling, but for a great performance by Toshiro Mifune, great B&W cinematography and for a taste of the most influential Japanese director of the 20th Century.
PS - Nowadays it's Japanese horror movies that get American re-makes. Forty years ago, it was Akira Kurosawa movies: "The Seven Samurai" was re-made as "The Magnificent Seven" and "Yojimbo" was re-made as "A Fistful of Dollars."
"Rashomon" is a great antidote to that: a crime story involving poor, rural Japanese peasants of the 19th century. The same story is told four different ways. The movie won the Oscar for best foreign film and was, in its day, the highest grossing foreign film in the US. So this is not an obscure movie: it was mentioned in the Watergate tapes made in Nixon's office. One of Nixon's aides is describing how different viewpoints can change how a story's told, "you know, like "Rashomon."
That business of telling the same story different ways has been imitated by a few movies and, for some reason, quite a few knuckle-headed TV shows, but none worth mentioning. The best example, is culturally far away, indeed, the first four books of the New Testament. But it's not as far away as you might think: the truth is, the director, Akira Kurosawa, although successful in Japan, was looked upon by the Japanese as an American-style director. He admitted that his biggest influence was... John Ford.
So "Rashomon" is a "must-see", not only for original story-telling, but for a great performance by Toshiro Mifune, great B&W cinematography and for a taste of the most influential Japanese director of the 20th Century.
PS - Nowadays it's Japanese horror movies that get American re-makes. Forty years ago, it was Akira Kurosawa movies: "The Seven Samurai" was re-made as "The Magnificent Seven" and "Yojimbo" was re-made as "A Fistful of Dollars."
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