Showing posts with label Gore Verbinski. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gore Verbinski. Show all posts

Friday, 21 February 2020

The Year in Film 2019 - Part Three


El patrullero (Highway Patrolman) [Alex Cox, 1991]:

Watched: Mar 17, 2019

If one filmmaker dominated 2019 for me, it was Alex Cox. Earlier in the year I read his 2008 memoir, "X-Films: True Confessions of a Radical Filmmaker", and greatly enjoyed its informative and always self-deprecating approach. I purchased two more of Cox's excursions into the literary world, his 2017 book "I am (Not) a Number: Decoding the Prisoner" and 2009's "10,000 Ways to Die: A Director's Take on the Spaghetti Western", and found both to be of a similar value. Inspired by the books I was also watching and re-watching Cox's films. Of those that were new to me, his films The Winner (1996), Revengers Tragedy (2002), Searchers 2.0 (2007) and Bill the Galactic Hero (2014) are either excellent or better than their reputations suggest, however one film stood out as a definite highlight. Filmed in Mexico following Cox's departure from Hollywood, El patrullero – or Highway Patrolman as it's commonly known – ties with Walker (1987) as the absolute pinnacle of the filmmaker's career. Scripted by Lorenzo O'Brien, El patrullero takes the mythos of the American western – where the lone lawman attempts to remain moral and just as he fights corruption and criminality in a lawless border town – and contrasts it against the conventions of the road movie. The tone is anarchic, carefully mixing between scenes of broad comedy, character development and gritty violence, while the filmmaking is ambitious and creative. This was the period when Cox was shooting his films "plano secuencia", meaning every scene is filmed in a single, carefully choreographed take. The result is a complete masterpiece of narrative, theme and aesthetics, and one of the absolute great films of the 1990s.


Phantom Lady [Robert Siodmak, 1944]:

Watched: Mar 24, 2019

The title hints at something supernatural, putting us in mind of certain analogous Val Lewton produced horror films, such as The Leopard Man, or The Seventh Victim (both 1943), but this isn't the case. Instead, Phantom Lady could be described as a "proto-giallo"; a film noir that predicts many of the conventions and practicalities that would go on to define that particular sub-genre of Italian murder mysteries so popular during the 1960s and 1970s. While it doesn't have the black-gloved serial killer or the stylised death scenes, there is nonetheless something about this story of a bystander taking on the role of amateur-sleuth to investigate a grisly murder, as well as the subsequent confession of the killer, whose grip on sanity has unraveled into tortured exposition, that recalls the practicalities of later films by directors like Mario Bava, Dario Argento and others. Films like The Girl Who Knew Too Much (1963) and Deep Red (1975) specifically, which capture something of a similar atmosphere, as well as 'cat and mouse' scenes of the "hunter" becoming the hunted. While not as powerful in its emotional drama or as inventive in its storytelling as his later film, The Killers (1946), the imagery of director Robert Siodmak is at its peak here, as the film blends the mystery and procedural elements with a thrilling descent into a third-act psychodrama.


Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest [Gore Verbinski, 2006]:

Watched: Mar 26, 2019

Dispensing with plot to an even greater degree than the original film, the likable but otherwise thinly-sketched Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl (2003), director Gore Verbinski's first sequel to the long-running franchise builds on its greatest strength (i.e. Johnny Depp as the irrepressible Captain Jack Sparrow) and runs with it, creating a narrative that exists for no other reason than to place its central characters into situations that allow for much comic misunderstanding, stunts and orchestrated suspense. The result, a non-stop cavalcade of action and comedy, feels less like a Hollywood blockbuster than something possessed by the cinematic spirits of Jackie Chan, Harold Lloyd and Buster Keaton. It's a film that places the emphasis on spectacle; upping the ante on what the first film was able to achieve and creating a series of visuals and set-pieces that are thrilling, original and brimming with imagination. For me, "Dead Man's Chest" is the absolute pinnacle of the first three "Pirates" films, and is a work that marks the beginning of Verbinski's run as a genuine "termite artist"; a filmmaker working within the mainstream that is nonetheless able to invest his films with ideas, images and scenarios that are subversive, eccentric, or defiantly anti-mainstream. In its scope, ambition and pure force of vision, it's a definite precursor to Verbinski's subsequent fantastic oddities, The Lone Ranger (2013) and A Cure for Wellness (2016).


Dumbo [Tim Burton, 2019]:

Watched: Apr 08, 2019

The experience of the film for me was like the world in miniature; the big-top reverie of the American experience distilled to its key essentials. The real pleasure of the film was not limited to the story and its presentation, but more redolent in what the film was able to suggest between the lines of blockbuster expectation. In its tone and intentions, Dumbo is capitalism and candy floss. It's the triumph of the broken, the different, the "other", struggling against uncertain odds. It's maudlin sentimentality. It's love, both between the child and its mother, but also at first sight. It's the struggle of the independent cinema against the unstoppable Disney machine. It's escapism. It's a circus train moving across the landscape in-time to the clamour of musical instruments. It's prejudice and persecution, pre-packaged in such a way that its message will be understood by young children, but not lost on the parents and adults also in attendance. It's a film about understanding. So many of the current crop of "live-action" Disney remakes are films made without style or personal aesthetic. They exist first and foremost as product; the imagery is there to illustrate the story and little else. Dumbo is not only defiantly beautiful as a piece of cinema, its alive with themes and ideas. While the anti-corporate, anti-big business subtext might seem disingenuous given that the film is a product of the Disney™ brand, it's another example of Burton as the "termite artist", biting the hand that feeds him. The small circus becomes a metaphor not just for the family (extended, as in the 'community') but the independent cinema. "Dreamland" as an obvious Disneyland surrogate, represents the mainstream, with its profit driven incentives, callous treatment of artists and emphasis on merchandising. The film even ends with an image of the cinema as a symbol of the great spectacles to come.


Cloud Atlas [Lilly Wachowski, Lana Wachowski & Tom Tykwer, 2012]:

Watched: Apr 14, 2019

The earnest nature of its message and the eccentricity of its delivery invite ridicule. After all, this is a film that casts recognisable superstars and has them speak in a variety of contrived, even fictional dialects, buries them under heavy prosthetic effects, and even at times indulges in the more controversial practices of gender and race-bending. To see Halle Berry portraying a white character, Hugo Weaving imitating a woman and Jim Sturgess playing Chinese isn't perfect, but it's practical, and plays into one of the more important components of the film; specifically the idea of a small group of "souls" inhabiting different variations of the same characters throughout history. Covering six different timelines and a variety of locations, from the Chatham Islands in 1849 to a post-apocalyptic future world in the year 2321, Cloud Atlas is by far the most ambitious Hollywood film of the past decade. Here, its three directors' cross countries and continents, cross boundaries of style and genre, and even cross the lines of convention and common-sense, delivering a film that for all its fantasy and imagination is focused on a human story of love and perseverance. Like Sense8 (2015-2018), the mostly brilliant TV series that Tkwer and Wachowskis would go on to helm a few years later, Cloud Atlas is a story about connections. Individual narratives find parallel lines that tangle and enfold, while music, words, images and characters echo across time and space. At close to three hours in duration there are many that would argue the film is too slight and simplistic in its message to justify the level of indulgence, but I found it genuinely moving. That the message can be regarded as "prejudice is bad and we should live as better people" was not a flaw for me. I found it beautiful, moving and admirably humanist in intentions.

Tuesday, 26 February 2019

A Year in Film Pt. 4

A Viewing List for Twenty Eighteen


Gabbeh [Mohsen Makhmalbaf, 1996]:

Watched: Sep 25, 2018

Makhmalbaf's other films from this same period, Salaam Cinema (1995) and A Moment of Innocence (1996), are key works for me. In both films I was amazed by the director's blurring of the line between fiction and reality; the self-reflexive aspect of the work, in which the making of a film becomes a commentary, not just on the film itself, but on the role of the cinema, as a medium, to express ideas and emotions that connect the past to the present. There's a similar device implicit in the film in question, though here the "meta"-aspect has been replaced by something distinctly un-cinematic, but no less pictorial in presentation; specifically, the 'gabbeh' of the title. Referring to a type of Persian rug, the title of the film pre-establishes the role that the gabbeh will play in defining both the style and subject matter of the film, as well as the greater political commentary that Makhmalbaf suggests. In this respect, the elderly couple that we first meet at the start of the film - and who lead us on this journey through moments of recorded history - are both, in a sense, born from this rug; their shared stories woven into its rich, ornamental design. The rug is not just an object, or even a cultural artefact, but a piece of history; living history, in the way that it captures memories, associations and experiences that have been passed down through the generations. Like the cinema of Salaam Cinema, or indeed, the 'moment of innocence' that Makhmalbaf recreated in the film of the same name, Gabbeh is a story about stories; both in its representation (i.e. what the rug actually depicts) as well as in its relationship to time. It's worth acknowledging that Godfrey Cheshire's audio commentary on the Arrow Academy Blu-ray release of Gabbeh (available as part of the box-set, Mohsen Makhmalbaf: The Poetic Trilogy) was indispensible here, contextualising many of the more specific political and sociological aspects of the film's construction; for instance, how the overwhelming use of colour was intended as a protest against the marginalisation of women among many Islamic communities.


A Cure for Wellness [Gore Verbinski, 2016]:

Watched: Oct 02, 2018

With a screenplay that feels like a patchwork of several different ideas sewn together, A Cure for Wellness is not exactly the most cohesive of films, nor one that could easily be termed a "masterpiece." However it does succeed, in part, due to the combination of the director's extraordinary visual sense, the tremendous atmosphere of its evocative mountain-top location and the ethereal, almost fairytale quality, which becomes especially powerful - and unsettling - as the story progresses. As a follow-up to the widely derided by actually quite brilliant The Lone Ranger (2013), A Cure for Wellness is further proof of Verbinski's position as one of the most bold and unusual filmmakers currently working within the confines of the Hollywood system. One could imagine how easy it would've been for the filmmaker behind the first three "Pirates of the Caribbean" films to continue to parlay that enormous success into directing a terrible Marvel™ movie (or some other disposable remake/reboot/sequel) but instead, Verbinski has continued down a markedly more eccentric path, producing a feature that is strange, indulgent and utterly uncompromising. While sold as a horror film, A Cure for Wellness is something that seems impossible to categorise, alternating as it does between scenes of corporate satire, psychological mystery, conspiracy thriller, medical horror, love story and gothic folk-tale. Verbinski had already proven his horror movie credentials with The Ring (2002) - a credible remake of Hideo Nakata's iconic J-horror masterpiece Ring (1998) - but A Cure for Wellness goes much deeper into the realms of the surreal, the startling, even the perverse. Casting Dane DeHaan as the film's protagonist and playing off the actor's inherently wooden ineffectualness, his character - the young financial executive Lockhart - becomes a man without agency. The horror generated by the film comes from the character's inability to control the circumstances he finds himself caught up in. At first he kicks against the system - as characters in horror films often do - but at some point there seems a suggestion on the part of the filmmakers that Lockhart is becoming complicit in his own destruction; embracing it as a kind of existential or fatalistic attempt to become closer to his father, who committed suicide when Lockhart was a child. There are suggestions and allusions here that I think will become clearer and more fulfilling with subsequent viewings, so for now let's just say A Cure for Wellness has all the makings of a future cult-classic; a striking, strange and decidedly eccentric nightmare of a film, which brings to mind certain elements of similar institutional-set curiosities, such as William Peter Blatty's The Ninth Configuration (1980), Jan Švankmajer's Lunacy (2005), Martin Scorsese's Shutter Island (2010) and M. Night Shyamalan's Glass (2019).


The Grand Budapest Hotel [Wes Anderson, 2014]:

Watched: Nov 03, 2018

Out of the small handful of films by Wes Anderson that I've so far seen, only two have made a positive impression: The Fantastic Mr Fox (2009) and this one. The rest were simply not to my tastes. The absolute nadir of my experience with Anderson's cinema was the doleful Moonrise Kingdom (2012); a film so mannered in its design, inauthentic in its construction and grotesque in its characterisations that I immediately abandoned any notion of ever seeing another of Anderson's films. Suffice it to say, I went into this follow-up with incredibly low expectations. Remarkably however, the film turned out to be a bit of a surprise, impressing me not just with its doll's house design and nested-storytelling, but in its strong characterisations and eclectic cast. Where I think The Grand Budapest Hotel succeeds over Moonrise Kingdom is that it's not attempting to be a humanist or sentimental film; its structure - a complicated 'Chinese box' or 'Russian doll' like folding of stories within stories - gives Anderson and his collaborators a context to play around with the cinematic form in a more directly engaging way. In short, it's a "novelistic" film, post-modern in both its structure and design, and one that often self-consciously reduces its characters to figures from memory. As people they're inherently unreal, so the over-the-top cartoon-like quality of the film isn't as jarring as it was in the aforementioned Moonrise Kingdom (where it felt as if the characters and their situations were meant to be endearing, if not romantic); instead, the film seems liberated from the necessity of reality, in much the same way that The Fantastic Mr Fox did. By structuring the film around a series of second-hand recollections from various characters - like Citizen Kane (1941), The Grand Budapest Hotel becomes an investigation into a perception of historical fiction - Anderson succeeds in turning his limitations into strengths. Here, the rambling, loosely plotted collage of narrative vignettes - which differentiate the various voices and time-periods depicted through a clever cross-cutting between different aspect ratios (like Peter Greenaway used in both The Pillow Book [1996] and The Tulse Luper Suitcases, Part 1 [2003]) - take on a wonderfully larger than life quality, where, in keeping with its self-reflexive design, the entire film has the feel of sitting down to a conversation with some eccentric raconteur as they commit to the telling of an incredibly tall tale.


The Other Side of the Wind [Orson Welles, 2018]:

Watched: Nov 04, 2018

Initially I'd written an unwieldy seven-hundred word comment to accompany this particular title, outlining, as I have with the other works collated here, my personal opinions on the film, and other such observations and impressions related to the overall experience. On further reflection, I feel I should post this comment separately at some point in the not-too-distant future, so as to discuss the film and its significances in greater depth. For now, let's just say that The Other Side of the Wind is a difficult work to "unpack", critically speaking. Firstly, the film has been assembled decades after the footage was first shot and indeed decades after the death of its co-writer and director Orson Welles. Like earlier Welles films, such as The Magnificent Ambersons (1942), Mr. Arkadin (1955) and Touch of Evil (1958) among other, we're left with only the impression of a film that Welles had intended. As such, we have to question how closely the work presented here represents the filmmaker's original vision. Secondly, while the film may prove to be a fascinating time-capsule for some audiences - offering, as it does, a detailed recording of the changing trends of 1970s Hollywood - others may find a more problematic view of the filmmaker and his attitudes, specifically in how the central character - ailing filmmaker Jake Hannaford - often becomes little more than a mouthpiece for Welles to air his petty grievances, or to settle old scores. I think the film is also worth looking at in relation to contemporary discussions on the myth of the male genius, the narcissism of the director (as archetype) and the role that modern streaming platforms such as Netflix now play in the development and delivery of what we might call "film culture." If each of these particular threads could potentially be spun off into an essay-length discussion then so too could the film's dizzying stylistic abstractions, which once again show Welles operating far outside the reach of his contemporaries (or indeed, the filmmakers that followed in his footsteps). In this assemblage of styles and ideas Welles essentially deconstructs the conventional language of cinema and the relationship between images, breaking apart (often literally) the possibilities and limitations of the medium as a whole. As an experiment in the various schools of montage, reportage, pastiche, surrealism and cinéma vérité The Other Side of the Wind is not just an important work within the context of its filmmaker's career but a work that challenges the very idea of what a film is, was or could even aspire to be. In short, it's a kind of cinematic equivalent to "The Young Ladies of Avignon" by Pablo Picasso, "Finnegans Wake" by James Joyce or "Free Jazz: A Collective Improvisation" by Ornette Coleman; a watershed of form and expression.


First Reformed [Paul Schrader, 2017]:

Watched: Nov 09, 2018

As the film ended words like as 'urgent', 'prescient' and 'necessary' seemed to circle. The finale of the film, with its typically Schrader-like descent into primal male violence - where transfiguration is sought through punishment and self-destruction - gave the story such a last-minute surge of energy and bellicosity that the entire film became like a scream of protest and indignation. The rotating movement of the camera, encircling the characters in a moment that seems to exist outside of the confines of reality, rationality or even the vagaries of life and death, as well as that punishing cut to black - as the soundtrack's chant of devotion gives way to the silence of an absent God - left me with such a disorienting sense of confusion and anxiety that I immediately felt in-step with the characters on screen. In short, the experience of the film was disarming, provocative and unforgettable. While many have no doubt noted the similarities between Schrader's film and the legacy of earlier works, such as Diary of a Country Priest (1951) by Robert Bresson and Winter Light (1963) by Ingmar Bergman, I found the real value of First Reformed was in the way the film adapts the themes and interests of previous Schrader films - such as Taxi Driver (1976), directed by Martin Scorsese, as well as Schrader's own masterworks, American Gigolo (1980), Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters (1985) and Light Sleeper (1992) - to the fears and concerns of the modern world. Yes, the thematic presentation of the priest and his crisis of faith, the young expectant mother and the sense of being awestruck to the point of madness by the thought of a dying world, can't help but recall the intellectual concerns of Bergman and Bresson, but they also maintain a continuing interest for Schrader in films about loners documenting their experiences in handwritten journals, or the conflict of a narrative in which drama is created by the characters' inabilities to control or comprehend the chaos of the world around them. Similarly, the stylisations of the film, which again seem specifically designed to evoke the classical European cinema of the 1950s - with the statically held 4x3 shot compositions and colour pallet so carefully controlled that the imagery is almost black and white - are not simply an act of appropriation, tribute or even homage, but an attempt to create a line of influence. With First Reformed, Schrader is looking to the past in an effort to remind his audience that the cinema is still capable of more than just action and spectacle. It's remembering that if filmmakers like Bresson, Bergman, Dreyer and others were once able to produce films that took faith seriously, that took miracles seriously, and that engaged in the inner-struggle of characters in order to tell stories that were personal enough to communicate something of the experience of living, then the same is still true today.


Silence [Martin Scorsese, 2016]:

Watched: Nov 24, 2018

This was a marked contrast to the other Scorsese film I caught up with in 2018; the brash and vulgar true-life crime story, The Wolf of Wall Street (2013). While entertaining in a perverse kind of the way, there was a feeling throughout The Wolf of Wall Street that the material was beneath a filmmaker of Scorsese's abilities. The titular setting - which had already been covered (twice) by Oliver Stone - and the general wallowing in greed and moral debauchery, had seemed better suited to the horror genre, as in American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis, than to the more generic rise and fall narrative of Scorsese's strangely celebratory film. As such, the commentary felt derivative, while the aesthetic 'tics' (voice-overs, slow-motion, montages) and narrative paraphernalia (drug-taking, violent coercion, domestic arguments) had carried a greater urgency when employed two-decades earlier in the masterworks Goodfellas (1990) and Casino (1995). Scorsese's better films from the current decade have tended to be ones that felt atypical to the context of his earlier legacy; Shutter Island (2010), with its gothic horror affectations and moments of genuine surrealism, and Hugo (2011), with its combination of big budget children's fantasy and earnest commentary on the importance of film preservation. Now Silence, an adaptation of the 1966 novel by Shūsaku Endō, previously brought to the screen by Masahiro Shinoda in 1971, offers another example of Scorsese defying expectations, though this time with an earlier precedent. In the film's sensitive and contemplative commentary on faith and devotion, both religious and personal in nature, Silence succeeds in connecting its themes and presentation to two of the filmmaker's best and most overlooked dramatic features, The Last Temptation of Christ (1988) and Kundun (1997). There as well as here the presentation of the film and its subject matter offers a very different image of Scorsese to the one best known for his violent and brooding films about male disaffection and organised crime. Instead, the general approach to Silence takes some obvious influence from the Japanese cinema of filmmakers like Kon Ichikawa, Shohei Imamura and the aforementioned Shinoda, where the style of the film is measured, earthy, but almost lyrical in its use of the landscape to provide moments of drama and tension within the frame. While the second half of the film is perhaps more talkative and restrained compared to the powerful, visceral nature of the first, Silence still feels like a late masterpiece for Scorsese; a serious film that combines images of extraordinary natural beauty with intimate dialogues on belief, conformity and persecution. The question of how to maintain faith in a faithless world is pertinent, more so if you replace "faith", as a question, with other characteristics, such as compassion or integrity.


Perfect Blue [Satoshi Kon, 1997]:

Watched: Dec 09, 2018

The subjectivity of Perfect Blue, both in its storytelling machinations and actual stylisation, is so complete and immersive, that the experience of the film succeeds in making the audience feel as vulnerable, disoriented and ultimately exploited as its central character, the pop-star turned television actor Mima Kirigoe. Taking obvious influence from filmmakers such as Dario Argento, Roman Polanski and Brian De Palma, Kon's first feature-length work indulges in much of the same extreme or graphic imagery as its cult-movie forebears, but avoids accusations of empty sensationalism or provocation through its use of a clever narrative device, which is consistent with the subsequent self-reflexive aspects of later Kon films, such as Millennium Actress (2001) and Paprika (2006). This "meta" element is used to blur the recognisable line between fiction and reality (if not sanity and delusion), allowing the audience to better engage with its themes of performance (the role of the actor), celebrity, identity, agency, voyeurism (the viewer and the viewed) and the realities of systemic abuse. Seeing the film for the first time in the context of the recent Hollywood scandals and the resulting #MeToo movement only underlines what is so powerful and unsettling about the film; the victimisation of its central character, as well as her subsequent slow descent into violence and insanity, is only predicted after she's made to feel powerless by circumstances both in and out of her own control. It's a difficult film to enjoy in this respect, as the treatment and mistreatment of Mima is both harrowing and repellent, with each decision made by the character - or for the character, as it may be - resulting in humiliation and the eventual loss of self. The animation is astounding throughout, brilliantly conveying both the Argento-like stylisation of the murder sequences, as well as the dreamy, more abstract, more expressionistic sequences, in which the character's grip on reality begins to slip.


The Deep Blue Sea [Terence Davies, 2011]:


Watched: Dec 24, 2018

There is a moment in The Deep Blue Sea in which a character steps out onto a train station platform, only to be confronted by a sudden moment of painful reminiscence. The camera, intuitively, almost in response to this triggering of memory and the pain of the emotions bared, turns away from the character; this woman at the heart of a story full of sorrow and shame. At first it seems as if the filmmaker is forcing the audience to avert their collective gaze from this moment too private or tender to share, compelling us instead to retreat, to step back, to turn our faces in sympathy, and yet the scene continues to drift; travelling by means of a lateral tracking shot along the platform's edge; dissolving, not just spatially or geographically, but psychologically, through layers of time, memory, emotion. As a chorus of soon-to-be-seen voices fills the soundtrack, the movement of the camera has taken us back to this particular memory, creating with it a visual and aural aesthetic that can only be described as "pure cinema." Throughout the film moments like this occur and reoccur, as the past and present converge and collide in moments of intimate sensitivity, and where the memories are conjured as much by the atmosphere of a location, and the tactile sensations of sight, sound, touch and taste, as the by dramatic situations the characters are facing. It's this approach to storytelling and the emphasis on memory in particular that has helped to define the career of Terence Davies. A thematic and aesthetic preoccupation, wherein nostalgia is presented as a potent force, not just in the conventional sense of looking back on something with a bittersweet sense of reflection, but as something that has the malignant capacity to chip away at his characters' innate sense of self-being, or their own ability to engage with life. As a continuation of a particular aesthetic - which arrived, initially, in Davies's third short-feature, Death and Transfiguration (1983), before finding its clearest and most singular expression in the masterpiece Distant Voices, Still Lives (1988) - The Deep Blue Sea represents yet another creative success for a filmmaker who surely ranks as one of the most singular and important artists currently working. Anchored by a tremendous performance from Rachel Weisz as the central character, Davies has used the dramatic foundation of Terence Rattigan's 1952 play of the same title (the story of a volatile heterosexual love affair between its central characters, which was in fact a coded exploration of the homosexual relationship between Rattigan and his lover Kenny Morgan) to explore many of his most powerful and affecting themes, such as loneliness, grief and repression.


Annabelle: Creation [David F. Sandberg, 2017]:

Watched: Dec 22, 2018

Despite apparent flaws, I still enjoyed the first Annabelle (2014). Referring to that earlier film, I wrote the following: "While it's ultimately let down by the necessity of its ridiculous killer doll premise, there is actually a rather affecting and intriguing through-line about mental illness. The 'satanic panic' of the post-Manson family massacre, mixed with the anxiety of a changing world and the pain of postpartum depression, gives context to the film's most memorable sequences. Furthermore, the film's apartment-block setting and general 1960s aesthetic draws heavily on the influence of Roman Polanski - specifically Rosemary's Baby (1968) - which already puts the film ahead of its forebear, The Conjuring (2013); a film that suffered from the consistently artless direction of James Wan." This preamble brings us back to this film in question, Annabelle: Creation. While ostensibly a kind of prequel to Annabelle, "Creation" is a film that takes the franchise in a slightly different, but ultimately more satisfying direction. The film still suffers from the same ridiculous killer doll premise as the previous instalment, but this time its creators are better able to overcome the tired demonic possession tropes and instead engage with more interesting themes, such as childhood trauma, grief and disability. Like another great horror sequel, The Curse of the Cat People (1944) by Robert Wise and Gunther von Fritsch, Annabelle: Creation uses the vagaries of the horror genre to present a more nuanced story about loneliness and childhood alienation. Its central character, Janice - an orphan left severely disabled following a bout of polio - is, like Amy, the protagonist from The Curse of the Cat People, isolated from those closest to her. It's this alienation and the resentment of being the one excluded that leaves Janice vulnerable to the dark forces that eventually conspire against her. As with the first Annabelle, a bit of ambiguity might've gone a long way here, with a further psychological interpretation of events perhaps needed to deepen or enrich the supernatural one; however it's still a fine film, beautifully crafted and sensitive to the experiences of its central characters. The horror has a slow-burn, observational quality to it - quite different to the ramped-up bombast of Wan's "spook house" theatrics - and in this sense feels closer to the legacy of more subtle, emotional, even elegiac horror of films, such as The Sixth Sense (1999), The Others (2001) and The Orphanage (2007).


The Fog [John Carpenter, 1980]:

Watched: Dec 30, 2018

The first shot - a close-up image of a pocket-watch brought eerily into the frame, as three children, draped in blankets on an unseen beach, look on from the other side of the screen - evokes something of the cinema of Raul Ruiz. Like the stylisations found in Ruiz's later works - specifically the baroque and often surrealist Three Crowns of the Sailor (1983) and City of Pirates (also 1983) - the image from Carpenter's film has a quiet magic to it. It's ornate, patently stylised and decidedly otherworldly - placing the story from the outset into the realms of the mysterious, the strange and the supernatural - and yet there's more to this shot than mere aesthetics. As an introductory image to the film and its various themes, it establishes, upfront, the concept of time, both literal, as if conjuring something from the past, as well as more figuratively, in the sense of the film's subtext on colonialist history. Placed within an obvious framing sequence, in which a grizzled sea captain character spins a fireside yarn for a group of attentive children, and the unreality of the image itself as a complex system of symbols, the shot suddenly seems intended to further emphasis the self-reflexive aspect of the scene and how it colours our interpretation of later events. In short, the relationship between the sea captain, as storyteller, and the children, as audience, provides a surrogate for the filmmaker and his own audience, in which the story we're about to see is quite literally the story being told. This, as a device, gives context to all the strange occurrences and ghostly encounters that soon follow, but it also establishes the film, in the tradition of classical folklore, as a kind of warning. While often dismissed as a minor entry for Carpenter, The Fog stands out for me as one of the filmmaker's most interesting and visually arresting works. While not as iconic or influential as the earlier Halloween (1978) and the subsequent Escape from New York (1981) - nor as groundbreaking in its ideas and presentation as his masterpiece The Thing (1982) - the film nonetheless contains several exceptional horror set-pieces, as well as a slowly unfolding mystery that hints at a variety of deeper themes. For me, The Fog feels like Carpenter's most European film; the slow pace, loose plotting and emphasis on atmospherics suggest Jacques Tourneur, but also Antonioni. While the narrative is admittedly slight, the nods to writers like Daphne du Maurier and H.P. Lovecraft hit the right spot for me, while the artistic qualities of the film – the drifting long shots, the ornate compositions and Carpenter's throbbing soundtrack – mark this out as a masterpiece of aesthetics.

Thursday, 4 February 2016

A Year in Film (Part Two)


A Viewing List for Twenty-Fifteen


Marie Antoinette [Sofia Coppola, 2006]:



Coppola transposes her own story - that of a spoiled little rich girl thrust into a position of public notoriety that she cannot comprehend - to that of the title character. In doing so, she exaggerates the naiveté of the real-life historical figure; creating in the process a more piercing feminist commentary on the way young women are often made to suffer for the sins of the husband/father/brother/patriarch; picked on and destroyed (in the case of Marie), not for her own inherently adolescent "decadence", but for the poor decisions of her husband and the generally restricting environment that she's forced to endure. In the title role, Dunst gives one of the great performances of the last decade; maybe even the current century. Unlike so many of the thankless roles she's chosen to play, Marie Antoinette sees her as both natural and radiant; her interpretation of the character arc both subtle and multifaceted; the implications of her final scenes - including the dreamlike moment in which she offers herself up to the braying mob - are haunting and emotionally distressing. Likewise, Coppola's filmmaking is sensitive, full of passion and energy; less a Merchant-Ivory chocolate box piece than a film infused with the influences of Derek Jarman and Sally Potter; specifically films like Edward II (1991) and Orlando (1992). An anarchic, post-modern, but also romantic and painterly approach that like Pasolini finds the past through a reflection of the present (and vice-versa) in order to humanise the central character and to create a political connection to the modern world.


Pigsty [Pier Paolo Pasolini, 1969]:



Pasolini's most impenetrable film is also his most beguiling. The work of a true visionary, Pigsty is a film that blends hallucinatory scenes of prehistoric violence with the extended monologues of the bourgeoisie; creating a juxtaposition that suggests parallels between the past and the present, where the relationship between the two posit the idea of history - and more specifically, persecution, exploitation and corruption, essentially referring to issues of class and entitlement - repeating itself endlessly until oblivion. While difficult to know the true intentions of the filmmaker, the suggestion "a story about pigs to tell a story about Jews" - combined with the overlapping of the two conflicting stories and their different presentations of violence and brutality (physical vs. psychological) - hints at the same anti-fascist polemic of the author's later, more infamous provocation piece, Salo, or the 120 Days of Sodom (1975).


Force Majeure [Ruben Östlund, 2014]:



Östlund direction of the film suggests a genial, less hectoring Michael Haneke; the approach falling somewhere between The Seventh Continent (1989) and Caché (2005) by way of a European sitcom. Like Haneke, the filmmaking style is studied and controlled; rigid, but not inflexible. Colour, composition, editing and sound are impeccable, establishing a feeling of antiseptic middle-class anxiety; an empty "going-through-the-motions" depiction of modern life comparable to a film like Archipelago (2010) by Joanna Hogg. Here, the popular and often contentious "comedy of embarrassment" trope beloved by European filmmakers - from Bertrand Blier to Mike Leigh, etc - merges with the spirit of Buñuel; eviscerating the bumbling immaturity of its characters and their self-created problems of first-world malaise, without becoming too nasty or nihilistic.


The Tale of the Princess Kaguya [Isao Takahata, 2013]:

  

For the first time since Michael Mann's derided but exhilarating Public Enemies (2009), the experience of a film and its filmmaking suggested an almost reinvention of the very language of cinema. Hyperbole? Perhaps, but the purely sensory experience of seeing these images explode within the rich cavernous blackness of the cinema space was like moving towards something almost elemental; the imagery seemingly transforming itself from frame to frame, at once ancient and yet entirely modern. It is a style that falls somewhere between an image of a primitive cave painting brought to life by the light of a flickering flame, the 'late' formalist works of Pablo Picasso that embraced unfinished naiveté and the most current and sophisticated style of contemporary animation, which is beyond anything I've ever seen. Although the fantasy plotline is nothing remarkable (and nitpickers might note that the ending is an almost shot-for-shot copy of the final scene from Shyamalan's despised Lady in the Water, repeated here to great acclaim), the actual presentation of the image is beyond words! The moments where the film seemingly breaks free from reality, becomes entwined with the emotions of its central character and seems to soar or disintegrate before our very eyes, is both astounding and unique.


Ex Machina [Alex Garland, 2015]:



1. Part throwback to "mad-scientist" monster movies; with James Whale's classic 1931 variation on the Frankenstein story providing an obvious template. 2. Part 'Bergmanesque' psychodrama; where the intense scenes of two characters enacting a private crisis of existentialism on a secluded island could bring to mind everything from the Hour of the Wolf (1968) to The Passion (1969). Part 'Soderberghian' meditation on style and mood; the cold and clinical design, modernist spacing, intimacy of its performances and minimalist composition of actors and objects within a 2.35:1 frame is as much reminiscent in its filmmaking as the underrated Solaris (2002) as anything by the more frequently associated Stanley Kubrick. As contemplation of the line between man and machine, between consciousness and unconsciousness, Garland's film is up there with the best of Mamoru Oshii, such as Avalon (2001) and Ghost in the Shell: Innocence (2004), as well as standards of the genre, such as Blade Runner (1982) and A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001). A work connected to the concerns of the modern world, but propelled by themes that are timeless and emotionally germane.


Accattone [Pier Paolo Pasolini, 1961]:



At the time I couldn't find the words for this one; I'm not sure I can find them now! Suffice to say that a whole sphere of world cinema begins (and ends) with the film in question; more so perhaps than the supposed year zero of Godard's endlessly lauded new wave defining À bout de souffle (1960) (though JLG is still eternal). So many of the scenes, images, aesthetics, preoccupations and concerns presented in Pasolini's film can be found in the work of cinema's great modern masters; everyone from Coppola to Scorsese, Fassbinder to Jarman, Monteiro to Denis, Farrara to Haynes, etc have borrowed from Accattone and its singular approach to character, theme and setting As a first-time filmmaker, Pasolini emerged full formed; his whole notion of cinema as a means of reflecting the past by way of the present (and vice versa) finds an expression in the way he depicts the central character as both lout and loser, but at the same time imbuing him with the kind of spiritual conviction, sympathy and vainglorious nobility of a martyred saint. As such, the methodology of Pasolini, which so often is defined, misleadingly, as "neo-realism", places the author far closer to the spirit of a man like Caravaggio than any of his cinematic peers; an artist who found in the bodies and faces of his local thugs, destitute crones and harlots the most sacred of religious (and later historical) icons.


The Lone Ranger [Gore Verbinski, 2013]:



Pitched somewhere between the pure cinematic spectacle of The General (1926) and the political 'kill your heroes' cynicism of Once Upon a Time in the West (1968), Verbinski's film wrestle with complex themes, from genocide and corruption, to betrayal and unrequited love, all the while fashioning a big-budget action adventure extravaganza that far eclipses the simple pleasures of his earlier, more successful Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003). Placing his scenes of wily escapism within a context of inglorious American history (brought to life for a child who knows only of its "heroes" while the reality is something far more cruel) the results are both thrilling and affecting. A rare but perfect example of a Hollywood blockbuster committed to taking risks.


Clouds of Sils Maria [Olivier Assayas, 2014]:



Throughout the film, several layers of interpretation become intertwined. First, a deconstruction of the psychosexual politics of Fassbinder's early masterpiece The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant (1972); second, a Persona (1966)-like meta-drama about the difficult relationship between women (a stricken actress and her aide); third, a reiteration of Irma Vep (1996) and its playful "anti-Hollywood" rhetoric (replete with faux comic book style blockbuster-sequence occurring during the second act); fourth, a film about the "old wave" being replaced by the new (and through this a personal commentary on Assayas's own cinema); fifth, a film about filmmaking (with several personifications of the director); and finally, a documentation of a natural phenomenon (in this instance 'the maloja snake') that becomes an onscreen miracle analogous to the flickering flame of Tarkovsky's Nostalgia (1983) or the final sequence of Eric Rohmer's The Green Ray (1986). A masterpiece.


Goltzius and the Pelican Company [Peter Greenaway, 2012]:



This dizzying mix of multi-media phantasmagoria - à la Prospero's Books (1991) - and Brechtian dissertation on the nature of voyeurism - recalling remnants of The Baby of Mâcon (1993) - is also Greenaway's clearest and perhaps most personal statement on the nature of cinema and its roots in both picture-making and performance. With this in mind, the character of Hendrik Goltzius, the German-born Dutch painter, printmaker and engraver at the heart of this tale of intrigue and expression, becomes a prototypical-filmmaker, in much the same way that Rembrandt did in the earlier and no less fascinating Nightwatching (2007). He's also a potential surrogate for Greenaway himself, reinforcing the film's personal, crypto-autobiographical elements, wherein the character is presented as an artist struggling against financiers, critics and the scourge of censorship to achieve a vision every bit as daring, creative and revelatory as the film itself.


Medea [Pier Paolo Pasolini, 1969]:




In the title role, Maria Callas becomes a full force gale; her performance ably demonstrating a level of passion and pain that seems beyond conviction. As she stands rebellious in the flames of her wounded love, she defies the deceitful Jason (and by extension, the apathy of the viewing audience): "it's useless; nothing is possible now!" As a final epitaph, it captures both the sadness of a woman broken and betrayed by circumstances beyond her own control, as well as the overwhelming disappointment of the filmmaker when confronted by the corruption of a modern world closed off to the magic of myth and legend. As ever, Pasolini's depiction of pre-history is never about ornamentation or simply providing a backdrop to a dramatisation; his presentation of the past is more a reflection of the present. The vibrancy, the atmosphere, the jarring culture shock, each evoke a feeling of authenticity; it's as if Pasolini and his crew had actually ventured back in time to a particular period to record it with their handheld camera. However, this feeling of immersion is to ignore the intentional discrepancies, anachronisms and stylisations, all of which are intended to bring the story of Medea out of the world of Greek myth and into the Europe of the 1960s and beyond. The sad tale of Medea's exploitation and destruction by love, jealousy, political deceit and the cruel patriarchy (either as a character, or as a surrogate for something else), is one that continues to reverberate throughout history and in countless different guises. A powerful experience.

Schalcken the Painter (1979)

Schalcken the Painter [Schalcken the Painter [Leslie Megahey, 1979]: This is a film I first saw around four years ago. At the time I found...