This is the movie that, when I told my friends I was moving to Los Angeles to study film, was on the top of everyone’s suggestion list for me to see. I am starting to see why, but I’m still not sure if I actually enjoyed it or not. Shot in a hand-held, home movie style, Breathless certainly breaks from the normal film structure in that it seems more like a piece of real life than a fabricated Hollywood plot. There is no apparent moral, goal, or clear arch, just a petty thief trying to get away. It really is just a piece of the action, a section of plot that might take up five minutes of any other film. The shooting style adds to this real life quality too: shaky hand held camera, like a home movie, jumpy editing, and characters in awkward situations or dress – not the fancy made up stars that is typical of the era.
As for the main character, Michel (Jean-Paul Belmodno) opens the film with this killer line: “After all, I am an asshole”. This just rubbed me the wrong way, getting me off to a bad start. Then his signature gesture, wiping his lips, just seemed to make him more skeevy and arrogant. I have to assume that this was intention on Godard’s part, but since the story follows Michel, it was an effort to keep watching this character, who until the end kept getting lucky, because I actually thought he was an asshole and deep down was rooting for his demise.
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Film Blog: Perfume: The Story of a Murderer
For the man who directed one of my favorite movies, Run Lola Run, Tom Tykwer really hit bottom on this one. The magic and sweetness that permeate even the original book seemed to be stripped away for the sake of telling the story, fact for fact, and forgetting the aesthetic the author of the novel, Patrick Suskind, so cleverly creates on the page. My first problem is that nearly the first quarter of the movie is in third person narration, almost like it is being read from the book. The images are beautiful, the characters appropriately costumed with rags or slightly fancy rags and yellow teeth to show that we really are in 18th century France. But as I said before, the magic is missing. We have no idea who the narrator is. The main character (Jean-Baptiste played by Ben Whishaw) rarely speaks – doesn’t for at least the first thirty minutes. This alone makes him into a bit of an outcast and potential threat, but not in a good way. Not in any endearing way that makes me sympathize with him. In addition, of all the facts Tykwer took so faithfully from Suskind’s story, the representation of Jean-Baptiste’s sickness, which is the book is anthrax, is nearly blown over and forgotten. Certainly his subsequent disfiguration from his miraculous survival is not even broached. I can only assume some producer insisted that the character keep his looks – they certainly went to a lot of trouble to cast a gorgeous young man. But for me, this only took away from his likeability. Seeing a youthful, healthy man killing young women (who could probably get them alive) is not the same as seeing a bitter, disfigured young man killing the women he could never have.
My interest did pick up about halfway through the movie, when the characters actually started speaking their own lines instead of being led by the God Voice of the Narrator. But it still seemed like too much ‘fact’ was jammed in, at the expense of the actual feeling of this amazing set of events. The only part that started to capture some of the magic I remember from reading the book was near the end, when Jean-Baptiste steps on the chopping block and wins over the village with the resulting orgy. But without this previously being entrenched in the aesthetic of the film, it seemed kind of shocking and out of place. And then the Narrator steps in to tie up the loose ends, which, especially at this point, I think could have been done just as effectively with no talking, just by Tykwer trusting the images he already has on the screen.
My interest did pick up about halfway through the movie, when the characters actually started speaking their own lines instead of being led by the God Voice of the Narrator. But it still seemed like too much ‘fact’ was jammed in, at the expense of the actual feeling of this amazing set of events. The only part that started to capture some of the magic I remember from reading the book was near the end, when Jean-Baptiste steps on the chopping block and wins over the village with the resulting orgy. But without this previously being entrenched in the aesthetic of the film, it seemed kind of shocking and out of place. And then the Narrator steps in to tie up the loose ends, which, especially at this point, I think could have been done just as effectively with no talking, just by Tykwer trusting the images he already has on the screen.
Film Blog: Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down! (Atame)
I had a sudden urge the other night to watch an Almodovar movie, and Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down! was the only one that Netflix had streaming and not just on disk. The premise was a little odd (though his movies always are) but I decided to give it a shot. I was not disappointed. Similar to my experience with his hit film, Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown, I was enthralled from the beginning – even with the subtitles that often loose me by the amount of attention I have to pay to a film. The characters were simple, but the story took twists that I could only follow with Almodovar’s superb directing. Ricky (Antonio Banderas) clearly had problems from the opening of the film. The fact that he was being “release” put me immediately on edge. The leading lady, both in the film, and within the film, Marina (Victoria Abril) was not your typical porn star – at least not by American standards. Putting the two together, along with Francisco Rabal as Maximo, the lecherous wheel-chair bound director, and Loles Leon’s Lola the not-as-pretty and overprotective sister, made for a typical crazy and hilarious Almodovar film where the unexpected was bound to happen. Like being kidnapped and tied up to your future husband.
From the beginning the imagery was absolutely captivating. The sudden change of ending of the ‘film’ that leaves Abril swinging like the hand of a clock from the balcony, seeming forever as the camera fades in and out and she just swings, as if to signify her biological clock ticking away. And Banderas, upon finding the bakery, his head revealed to be framed in the ‘O’ of the sign on the glass. Then there is the toy scuba diver. I nearly burst out laughing in anticipation of it swimming into her open legs. And then Almodover just let the camera sit on the image, as he does with a lot of the imagery, just sit and sink in. In addition the gorgeous production design (by Esther Garcia) of an apartment I could only dream of living in, Almodovar used this brilliantly to set up several perfectly balanced shots – mostly with Abril and Banderas splitting the screen right to left – which to me conveyed the power struggle and eventual union of the two as equals. Though unfortunately I knew the resolution from the synopsis, I was satisfied none the less by the journey there. The sisters approval though, that was a surprise. It’s almost like Almodovar is trying to say that there is no right or wrong, you just have to go and see what life throws in your lap.
From the beginning the imagery was absolutely captivating. The sudden change of ending of the ‘film’ that leaves Abril swinging like the hand of a clock from the balcony, seeming forever as the camera fades in and out and she just swings, as if to signify her biological clock ticking away. And Banderas, upon finding the bakery, his head revealed to be framed in the ‘O’ of the sign on the glass. Then there is the toy scuba diver. I nearly burst out laughing in anticipation of it swimming into her open legs. And then Almodover just let the camera sit on the image, as he does with a lot of the imagery, just sit and sink in. In addition the gorgeous production design (by Esther Garcia) of an apartment I could only dream of living in, Almodovar used this brilliantly to set up several perfectly balanced shots – mostly with Abril and Banderas splitting the screen right to left – which to me conveyed the power struggle and eventual union of the two as equals. Though unfortunately I knew the resolution from the synopsis, I was satisfied none the less by the journey there. The sisters approval though, that was a surprise. It’s almost like Almodovar is trying to say that there is no right or wrong, you just have to go and see what life throws in your lap.
Film Blog: Hunger Games
I had been so against watching this movie for so long, mostly because of the hype, but I'm really glad I finally caved and watched it. Hunger Games is both thoughtful in its exploration of society and artistic in it’s handling of oppression. It has a little bit of every good sci-fi/action movie rolled into one. The oppressive government with their “peacekeepers” (who look surprisingly like stormtroopers) are reminiscent of the Nazi regime (at least to me), keeping the ‘peace’ through the fear and continual punishment of the game – which also seems to reference the final Egyptian plague in the bible: death of the firstborn. The game itself was futuristic Thunderdome, pitting those who have no reason to fight into mortal combat. Like the Romans, the people of this world thrive on the violence, much like we thrive on violence in film. But I wonder, could we ever revert back to the days of the Romans when this actually was a sport that was desirable to watch? Or does it require that we think of those fighting as ‘less than human’, even as they do in the movie: after seventy-four years society still treats the districts as rebels that need to be punished.
I was also surprised at the James Newton Howard’s haunting score (which I will probably go buy tomorrow) and artistry of the Philip Messina’s production design. I’m not sure if this was Messina or director Gary Ross, but the limited color pallet of pastels (for the crowd in the capitol) combined with the combination 50’s and Edwardian dress was mesmerizing. It made the crowd an absurd mirror of the rich upper class, unreal in both their dress and manor. At times they reminded me of the extras from Rocky Horror, especially in the scene when Rocky is being born. This futuristic design contrasted with the stunning landscapes that aren’t usually seen in either sci-fi or dystopian films.
I was also surprised at the James Newton Howard’s haunting score (which I will probably go buy tomorrow) and artistry of the Philip Messina’s production design. I’m not sure if this was Messina or director Gary Ross, but the limited color pallet of pastels (for the crowd in the capitol) combined with the combination 50’s and Edwardian dress was mesmerizing. It made the crowd an absurd mirror of the rich upper class, unreal in both their dress and manor. At times they reminded me of the extras from Rocky Horror, especially in the scene when Rocky is being born. This futuristic design contrasted with the stunning landscapes that aren’t usually seen in either sci-fi or dystopian films.
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