<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522</id><updated>2011-11-27T17:07:17.333-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cinema Journal</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>41</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-5895592855551565171</id><published>2010-03-11T22:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T10:29:48.050-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Inland Empire (2006, David Lynch)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_460829_cffb06f0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 427px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_460829_cffb06f0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.movieposterdb.com/posters/07_12/2006/460829/l_460829_cffb06f0.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I first saw "Inland Empire" in early 2007 and opted not to write about it mainly because I really didn't know how I felt about the film (or video, if you're into semantics) after I saw it. I went to the late night show, was almost certainly inebriated, went with a group of friends (at this point I still had a social life), and remember little about the screening except that I enjoyed the film and appreciated it on some level or the other. Well, I'm glad I didn't attempt to write about "Inland Empire" based on that viewing because my feelings are drastically different this time around. What I found to be a fascinatingly incomprehensible nightmare-on-video the first time I saw it, what I found to be an extremely nonsensical film overall, I now feel is one of the most important and greatest artistic works of the decade, and nowhere near as flawed and incomprehensible as I initially thought. I'm not going to attempt an analysis of the film, greater minds have done that already, so I'll stick to a simple review of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps  "Inland Empire" does recycle elements of Lynch's previous work. I find it a less powerful experience than his 2001 masterpiece "Mulholland Dr." which with every viewing comes closer to toppling "Vertigo", my favorite film since I first saw it at age 12 or 13. I do think the video is used badly at some points in the film. It's a testament to Lynch's skill as director and cinematographer (and camera operator) that he was able to achieve this sort of thing with a dated, mediocre digital camera, but on rare occasions in the film, particularly during outdoor daytime shots, the poor quality of the camera itself isn't conquered by Lynch's creativity and skill in using it as well as it can possibly be used. However, other than that very small problem I really struggle to find anything I would cut out of the film. Considering its length, that's really something. In fact, I'm dying to see "More Things that Happened", one of the DVD extras which features over seventy minutes of footage shot for the project and not included in the final cut of the film. The film is, surprisingly for something shot with such primitive digital technology, formally elegant and consistently well-shot. What would Van Gogh have done with a set of cheap crayons and color pencils? The film makes fascinating use of color and light, and boasts possibly the best use of close-ups since Leone. These are even uglier, in a good way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most common  criticism of "Inland Empire" seems to be that it's a total mess, a bunch of nonsensical weird goings-on strung together and put out for pseudo-intellectuals to dissect in their setting of choice (the average pseudo-intellectual favors either the internet or the great coffee shop which isn't a chain... yet, the cool pseudo-intellectuals enjoy the sort of bar which frequently doubles as an art gallery, but that's besides the point). This is both true and untrue, and I suspect the more times I see the film the more I'll see it as untrue. Where the truth of these claims lies, mostly, is in the fact that, as a fellow IMDb user notes, the film doesn't just shun narrative tradition but acts as if such a thing never existed. However, to say there are no themes or emotions being expressed, to say there are no stories being told in the film, seems to me not a matter of opinion but simply incorrect, and indicates an extraordinarily narrow-minded and simplistic view of cinema as a form of linear storytelling and nothing else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While it does not have a 'plot',  "Inland Empire" has a story. In fact it has several stories to tell, including that of actress Nikki Grace (Laura Dern), that of a battered housewife (Laura Dern), and that of a hooker working Hollywood boulevard (Laura Dern). There's also a giant rabbit sitcom and a Polish prostitute. Most of these strands start out relatively linearly and the film is mostly overall quite easy to follow for more than an hour of its running time, standard Lynch surrealism excepted. The film grows gradually more bizarre as the stories interact and occasionally merge with each other, the themes they have in common becoming clearer in some instances and less clear in others. The narratives all have great payoff as the film draws to a close. I didn't understand everything in "Inland Empire" and I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to, but it's really not even close to being the sort of deliberately distancing, deliberately obscure sort of thing Godard sometimes does. It doesn't mistake obfuscation for art.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can  safely say I can't recall one dream I've had which didn't do exactly what "Inland Empire" did: start out as a linear narrative and then spiral out of control. The brilliance of Lynch's work here is that he was able to capture that and to control it, to explore themes with it, to express emotions with it. That's rare talent, that's rare skill at work. It doesn't hurt that his is a more interesting and freakish mind than most of ours. "Inland Empire" doesn't seek to tell a simple, straightforward story. Criticizing it for not doing so indicates either misunderstanding or a narrow-minded view of cinema. As a formal experiment and as an overall achievement "Inland Empire" is up there with Lynch's very best and as a result with the very best of cinema in general.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-5895592855551565171?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/5895592855551565171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=5895592855551565171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/5895592855551565171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/5895592855551565171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2010/03/inland-empire-2006-david-lynch.html' title='Inland Empire (2006, David Lynch)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-6666687877995379700</id><published>2010-03-11T22:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T10:31:50.710-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pontypool (2009, Bruce McDonald)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_1226681_d4efa12e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 426px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_1226681_d4efa12e.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.movieposterdb.com/posters/09_03/2008/1226681/l_1226681_d4efa12e.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Social and political commentary in zombie films is hardly a new thing, but "Pontypool" does it better, and with more subtlety and grace than any recent movie I can think of. "Pontypool" does what I thought would be impossible: it breathes new life into the zombie genre. Well, perhaps that's a bit inaccurate, but it does provide a truly original, smart, intelligent take on the concept of 'zombies' (though this is again a viral infection and not the walking dead).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The film is, I  will admit, an acquired taste. Not all the humor will work with every viewer, I have already seen the character of Doctor Mendez, who worked perfectly for me, criticized repeatedly as the weakest point of the film. However, what every viewer should be able to appreciate is the creative, intellectual, witty, sometimes hilarious screenplay by Tony Burgess, as well as the truly rare sort of brilliance shown by Stephen McHattie in the lead role here. He does everything in the film. Cocky, vulnerable, sad, happy, terrified and triumphant. He simply does not miss a beat for the entire film, and now that I've seen it twice I really do believe, regardless of whether or not anyone agrees with me (and keeping in mind that McHattie has received unanimous praise from Canadian critics for his perforrmance), that his is one of the very best male performances of the decade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Burgess'  screenplay is based on his own novel, and is around as great as the novel. Burgess' novel is in its original state 'unfilmable', and it would take an absolute genius to make it work as it was originally, and as much as I truly do like Bruce McDonald, he's not quite the right director for that. I don't think there is one. Burgess doesn't betray the original work however, and his screenplay has as much wit and intelligence and mystery as his novel does. I can praise the screenplay for its sharp commentary on several aspects of Canadian life (which will be lost, I suspect, on most American audiences as the Canadian audience I saw it with the first time, nearly 300 people strong, had shockingly simplistic questions for Bruce McDonald at the Q&amp;amp;A after  the screening), but it works tremendously well as a thriller. It's funny, smart, witty, and uses one of my favorite not-used-enough things in cinema: the verbal clue. "Pontypool" earns comparisons to Hitchcock's "Blackmail!" for that, and to his "Lifeboat" for succeeding in making a thoroughly engaging film on one set and with few actors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bruce  McDonald has grown a great deal as director, and shooting on a Red digital camera (a deliberate aesthetic choice, as he told me after the first time I saw the film), he has succeeded in making the most of his presumably tiny budget and his actors. The film, as previously stated, takes place entirely (aside from the opening scene in a car) in a church basement, which is where Grant Mazzy (McHattie) hosts his radio show from. "Pontypool", despite the limitations of budget and set, succeeds in achieving a great scope. We see a BBC report, and we hear a great deal. This film is unique in its emphasis on the aural even more than the visual, and it's where the film gets its scope from. Ken Loney, for example, the town's weather reporter (who, in true meta fashion, isn't really in a helicopter, but in a car on a hill, playing sound effects on a speaker) Ken Loney is a major character, but we never see him. The film could play out as a radio play and not change all that much. McHattie's performance has even more to do with the expressiveness and charisma of his voice than with the physical, visual performance he gives. If "Pontypool" were animated it would be one of the greatest bits of voice acting in a long time. Lisa Houle is also very good as Sydney Briar, Mazzy's producer and the other major character in the film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize I have been rather vague about  the film, but that's because you really should go in without many spoilers. The film doesn't exactly rely on twists, but the plot takes several turns which are very intriguing, and the main concept is very cool and you should really just watch it unfold on screen. Even if you never warm to screenwriter Burgess' sense of humor, even if the commentary and subtexts mean nothing to you, see it because it's a damned good minimalist horror thriller, and see it for McHattie's absolutely genius lead performance. It's a great movie, one which relies on wit, psychology, suggestion, and subtext instead of gore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-6666687877995379700?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6666687877995379700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=6666687877995379700' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/6666687877995379700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/6666687877995379700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2010/03/pontypool-2009-bruce-mcdonald.html' title='Pontypool (2009, Bruce McDonald)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-8153001428231387706</id><published>2010-03-11T22:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T10:34:16.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Daytrippers (1996, Greg Mottola)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_91116_0116041_3fa11a7f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 447px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_91116_0116041_3fa11a7f.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the shockingly good teen comedy "Superbad" and the wistful, sentimental post-collegiate angst of "Adventureland", even before his now famous TV work, director Greg Mottola made this 1996 gem "The Daytrippers". The film, like Mottola's other films, works a familiar and unpromising premise into a genuine, heartfelt, wonderful observation on human behavior. The film, while rougher around the edges technically and as a script than either "Superbad" (written by Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg) and "Adventureland" (written by Mottola himself, as "The Daytrippers" is), is yet another distinctive and memorable Mottola film. The plot is pretty much covered by the film's tagline: "One station wagon. Two generations. Three couples. Four relationships", but much like Mottola's other films ("Superbad": Two best friends and a nerdy semi-friend attempt to get laid before graduation. "Adventureland": college grad works at amusement park and falls in love) the plot doesn't really give any indication of how good the film is. Great script overall by Mottola with terrific characterization and dialogue which rings true, not to mention mature handling of the relationships as well as a good dose of humor. An excellent cast (at their best too, Mottola's great work with actors on display yet again) including Stanley Tucci, Hope Davis, Liev Schrieber, and Parker Posey bring the script to life well, and Mottola's storytelling skills and comic timing as director are, even this early in his career, excellent. Not as good as his later work, but Mottola shows great promise with this early film.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-8153001428231387706?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/8153001428231387706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=8153001428231387706' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/8153001428231387706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/8153001428231387706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2010/03/daytrippers-1996-greg-mottola.html' title='The Daytrippers (1996, Greg Mottola)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-2595846699838489831</id><published>2010-03-11T22:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T10:34:49.585-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country (1991, Nicholas Meyer)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_102975_8f43bfb7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 439px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_102975_8f43bfb7.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After two relatively lighthearted films, with "The Voyage Home" being a (brilliant) comedy much of the time, the Trek film series returned to darkness and foreboding intrigue with "The Undiscovered Country". It is probably a more flawed film than "The Voyage Home" and "The Wrath of Khan" (which are my favorite Trek films), but "The Undiscovered Country" nonetheless is a great, great send-off for the original crew (damn you, "Generations"!) with a very good story and villain and more than a hint of the political intrigue which would become a big part of "Deep Space 9". Indeed, though it features the original crew with their trademark interactions intact, "The Undiscovered Country" does bring them into a story perhaps generally more at home in "The Next Generation" or "Deep Space 9". Though I much prefer "The Original Series" to anything which came after (outside of a couple of seasons of DS9), this was an interesting direction to go for the original crew's final film, and one which paid off largely again due to the characters being so well-handled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A fairly complex plot in comparison to  what we'd seen before in the Trek film series, so I won't bother explaining it, but there's lots of Klingons, lots of politics, and an air of mystery well-created by director Nicholas Meyer, returning as director to the series for the first time since "The Wrath of Khan" and as writer for the first time since "The Voyage Home". Meyer seems to have an uncanny grasp on what makes Trek click and absolutely nails the character interactions as well as the tone of the films, which are ultimately optimistic regardless of how melancholy things can get. It's a great screenplay overall, with the social and political commentary being pretty obvious but very well-done and the characters, again, handled extremely well. Great dialogue too, with Chang being Shakespeare to Khan's Melville and Spock especially getting some classic lines. The cinematography by Hiro Narita is also worthy of note.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall the cast here is  definitely worthy of much praise. Of course the original cast, Mark Lenard as Sarek, and other Trek regulars like Michael Dorn as Worf need no comment as they are all reliable performers. It must be said though that Shatner still had a little of "The Final Frontier" in him and didn't really deliver a performance on par with his work in the trilogy formed by II, III, and IV. However, there were some very good additions as well. Kim Cattrall doesn't even come close to deserving the sort of criticism she's gotten from some, as she plays her Vulcan character pretty much flawlessly, and I daresay better than Kirstie Alley or whomever took over from her as Saavik. It helps that she's the hottest Vulcan not from Alberta. Christopher Plummer is really, really great as the villain Chang, who isn't as good a character as Khan, but I think Plummer gives perhaps the better performance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall an exciting, thrilling adventure filled with  political intrigue which never loses sight of the soul of Trek: the characters. I do think "The Voyage Home" has eclipsed this as my second favorite Trek film upon this most recent viewing, but I still love "The Undiscovered Country" and consider it not only in the top tier of Trek films, but also a great addition to the original crew's adventures and one of the better genre films around. Great stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-2595846699838489831?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2595846699838489831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=2595846699838489831' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/2595846699838489831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/2595846699838489831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2010/03/star-trek-vi-undiscovered-country-1991.html' title='Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country (1991, Nicholas Meyer)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-3238878603585422984</id><published>2010-03-11T22:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T10:35:45.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (1986, Leonard Nimoy)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_92007_7bd36393.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 445px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_92007_7bd36393.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.movieposterdb.com/posters/09_10/1986/92007/l_92007_7bd36393.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I prefer both "The Wrath of Khan" and "The Undiscovered Country" to "The Voyage Home" overall, I do find "The Voyage Home" to be perhaps the best Star Trek film as far as the treatment of characters go. All three of the aforementioned films, and "The Search for Spock" certainly capture the unique friendships and sense of camaraderie the TOS crew share, but in those films all that is forced to share the spotlight in those films with oncoming disasters, space battles, and villains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There  is an oncoming disaster the crew must work to stop in "The Voyage Home", but, in the words of Leonard Nimoy: "no dying, no fighting, no shooting, no photon torpedoes, no phaser blasts, no stereotypical bad guy". The result is not only one hell of a fun film, but a truly excellent piece of Trek writing, one which gives even Chekov something of note to do, stays true to every character, achieves emotional poignancy during the scenes with Kirk and Spock awkwardly re-establishing their friendship, and provides a lighthearted plot which nonetheless explores some big ideas (and ideals).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amongst  time travel Trek "The Voyage Home" is definitely bested by "The City on the Edge of Forever", "Yesterday's Enterprise", and "The Visitor" from TOS, TNG, and DS9 respectively, and is probably slightly less fun than DS9's legendary "Trials and Tribble-ations" but overall is an incredibly entertaining, fun time travel story better than any others that I haven't mentioned (including the films "Generations" and "First Contact"). The plot, which sees the crew go back in time to 1986 San Francisco to take humpback whales to the future to repopulate the species and save Earth works much better than you'd expect, but the movie really shines when the crew is in San Francisco in 1986 attempting to get the whales back to the future. Uhura and Chekov's quest for nuclear wessels, Scotty revealing the formula for transparent aluminum to a manufacturer, and especially, especially, Bones' hilarious outrage at the barbaric medical practices of the 20th century during his time at a hospital are a few of the highlights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The  script went through a lot to get to the final draft, but Nimoy stated that Nicholas Meyer gave the script "the kind of humor and social comment, gadfly attitude I very much wanted", so I guess we have Nicholas Meyer to thank once again for a great Trek adventure. You know, they haven't announced a director for the sequel to J.J. Abrams canonical reboot out May 8th yet, it's not too late to ask him to return... Harve Bennett, who had a hand in this entire trilogy (II, III, and IV, together one of the best film trilogies of all time), also deserves credit, and whomever the other writers were I'm sure. Great screenplay brought to life wonderfully well by Leonard Nimoy's direction (he really appears to have grown as a director since "The Search for Spock"), good cinematography, good design work, and superb effects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some dismiss "The Voyage Home" as silly and indulgent. I  view it as a fantastic piece of violence-free Trek, and after a wildly off-mark attempt at hard sci-fi and two extravagant, though emotionally-grounded space adventures, the film series was wise to finally bring to the big screen what the original television series often did very well: a humorous fish out of water story with great characters, excellent dialogue, and a good overall story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-3238878603585422984?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3238878603585422984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=3238878603585422984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/3238878603585422984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/3238878603585422984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2010/03/star-trek-iv-voyage-home-1986-leonard.html' title='Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (1986, Leonard Nimoy)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-4414903290194773802</id><published>2010-03-11T22:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T13:09:19.344-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Star Trek III: The Search for Spock (1984, Leonard Nimoy)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_147014_0088170_e90fdd34.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 449px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_147014_0088170_e90fdd34.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a direct sequel to the legendary "The Wrath of Khan", "The Search for Spock", though far from the greatness of the preceding film, is more than serviceable, and is overall quite a good emotional story which wraps up the loose ends from "Khan" admirably well, though clumsily on occasion. Oddly enough for a movie called "The Search for Spock", one of the film's biggest problems is a distinct lack of Spock. Without him the chemistry of the TOS crew is hurt quite a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also,  the film does lack its own identity a bit, feeling most often like the direct sequel to "The Wrath of Khan" which it is. This isn't really a problem, it just means that the film holds almost no appeal to those who haven't seen "The Wrath of Khan", and to those of us who have seen "The Wrath of Khan" (and many times), the choice between the two if we only have time to sit down and watch one of them is painfully obvious. It really is mostly a sort of bridge between "The Wrath of Khan" and "The Voyage Home".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The film's greatest flaw is the  entire Klingon plot. I was never a big fan of the Klingons which I know I'm in a minority on but here they seemed especially annoying because they are thrown into the mix basically to add conflict and action to something which could have been just a straight character piece. Indeed, the only aspect of "The Search for Spock" aside from reliably good performances from the original cast which is more than merely competent (a description which applies to Nimoy's direction, most of the effects work considering when it was made and the budget, all the supporting cast, the overall story, and several other aspects of the film) is the screenwriter Harve Benett's excellent characterization and the several good character moments sprinkled throughout the film, my favorite being Bones telling a not-yet-fully-restored Spock that he misses him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The film could  have been great if it had stuck to a simple character-based story. Instead the film aims to be, in its relatively short running time, a full-on space opera. The stuff on Genesis and with the Klingons is not really as good as it could've been and the Klingons should probably have been left out altogether but overall the film is a competent, and occasionally excellent, follow-up to "The Wrath of Khan", but it lacks individual identity a bit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-4414903290194773802?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4414903290194773802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=4414903290194773802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/4414903290194773802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/4414903290194773802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2010/03/star-trek-iii-search-for-spock-1984.html' title='Star Trek III: The Search for Spock (1984, Leonard Nimoy)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-6508102705704122507</id><published>2010-03-11T22:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T13:10:35.985-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan (1982, Nicholas Meyer)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_123281_0084726_1ad4b3a9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 451px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_123281_0084726_1ad4b3a9.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many, many films, especially genre films which have great reputations but fail to live up to them on repeat viewings or, sometimes, on first viewings. However, as today's viewing marked the twentieth time I have seen "Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan", viewings spread over twenty years from childhood to adulthood, I find myself able to say with an unprecedented level of assurance that "Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan" is a film I believe to be truly 'great', not only a personal favorite but one which achieves excellence in so many ways that I find it genuinely hard to believe there are so many people out there who don't love this film. The film gave me goosebumps on this viewing, much like it does every single time I see it, without fail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The  film boasts a brilliantly-written genre screenplay by Jack Sowards and director Nicholas Meyer (the original outline was written by executive producer Harve Bennett, developed into a full script by Sowards, then re-written once more by Meyer, who refused to accept a writing credit), perhaps its greatest strength. While there are 'plot holes' which fans have debated endlessly which I don't even want to mention for fear of them coming up again and a couple of contrivances, overall I find the screenplay to be consistently one of the tightest and most poignant pieces ever written for "Star Trek" in any of its incarnations in film or on TV. The Genesis subplot doesn't seem extraneous to me at all as some people feel, in fact I find much of the emotional poignancy of the film comes from Kirk's relationship with Carol Marcus and from the metaphorical significance of the Genesis project. It's also an important plot point, so I really have to say that considering it a flaw seems more like nitpicking to me than anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The script covers a great deal of ground in under two  hours. The opening stages are not merely a series of lame excuses to get the original crew back on the Enterprise, but actually contain great character development and insights into their behavior. The introduction of Khan and the principal story of the film is very effectively done, and very efficiently as well. This is a sequel to the famous "Space Seed" episode from the original series, but very quickly yet completely explains the origin of Khan's conflict with Kirk without laborious exposition or a slowing down of the film's extraordinary pace. Once the battle of wits gets going the film is pretty much unstoppable, greatly aided by Meyer's vision of the film as a nautical adventure, resulting in some terrific design and atmosphere (especially remarkable considering many of the sets were cannibalized from sets for the aborted "Star Trek: Phase II" series from the 70's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet with  all the action and the military nature of the film (which, at this point, Roddenberry opposed, despite his original pitch for Star Trek containing phrases such as 'Wagon Train to the stars' and despite Kirk being based on Horatio Hornblower) it never loses sight of the core of Star Trek: the camaraderie and terrific character interactions. The actors don't betray the script's greatness in that regard either: Shatner gives a phenomenal, understated, dignified performance as Kirk, and is just devastatingly good in some scenes, with a few bits of overacting here and there but generally he's great. Do I even need to comment on Nimoy's Spock or Kelley's McCoy or any of the rest of the original cast? Nimoy's performance here barely manages to eclipse Shatner's as the film's best. It's just so wonderfully understated and beautiful. Oh, and Montalban as Khan is the epitome of a great scenery-chewing villain, but with an almost unexpected level of emotional gravity. The Melville quotes don't hurt either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Star  Trek: The Wrath of Khan" seems to me a perfect film. It contains everything which made "Star Trek" work in my estimation, except for the sexiness of the original series, but that omission is suitable considering the story and considering the aged crew. The film is just so exceptionally well-written, well-directed, and flawlessly paced. Fanboyish or not I simply have to say it: Spock's sacrifice is among the greatest cinematic moments of all time, and I always find myself tearing up at the end of this movie. It's not just a great adventure film, but one with truly, truly exceptional writing for the characters and an emotional poignancy and sense of melancholy which still surprises me no matter how many times I see it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-6508102705704122507?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6508102705704122507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=6508102705704122507' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/6508102705704122507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/6508102705704122507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2010/03/star-trek-wrath-of-khan-1982-nicholas.html' title='Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan (1982, Nicholas Meyer)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-6619975196482669108</id><published>2010-03-11T22:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T13:11:15.677-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Star Trek (2009, J.J. Abrams)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_796366_28ab13ec.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 445px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_796366_28ab13ec.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a fan of "Star Trek", but not obsessive, having read only one "Star Trek" novel, owning no merchandise and only TOS in its entirety on DVD. I abhor "Voyager" but like every other Trek series, including "Enterprise" although nearly all of that show's especially good episodes are in the fourth season. My favorite remains TOS for its unforgettable characters, performances and stories, as well as the sense of camaraderie aboard the Enterprise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I've  established my feelings on Trek (after all there are Trekkers who think "The Motion Picture" is the best Trek film, and a lot of people seem to like "Nemesis") and what I truly value in it. As long as it wasn't overwhelmingly dumb I didn't require any sort of truly thoughtful sci-fi in this film, nor did I expect it. What I desired, what I can say with a deep, deep sigh of relief, I got, is a film brimming with confidence, energy, a sense of adventure, a suitably emotional story for the film's main characters, and, thank heavens, superb characterization.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Using a plot device bring Nero, our  Romulan villain played by Eric Bana, and Nimoy's Old Spock into the film, the writers Bob Orci and Alex Kurtzman maintain canon. While Trekkers will whinge about many things here no more canon contradiction happens here than in the Trek series following TOS. Instead of merely rebooting the series entirely and creating an entirely separate canon, the writers have fairly deftly worked this film into the existing Star Trek universe. It's an alternate (not mirror) universe story done well. A great deal to enjoy for Trekkers with throwbacks to the originals but there's also a lot to satisfy summer movie-goers. It's a very, very fast-paced film, the action scenes are exhilarating (and you can actually keep track of them), and there's a great deal of humor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sounds almost  unbelievable but they've actually managed to pull it off: they've made a "Star Trek" film which is a Trek film through and through and yet will still draw a bigger audience than any of the previous films, and moreover satisfy that audience. The film has been compared to "Iron Man" in more than one review the similarities are clear. Both films feature excellent dialogue and character interactions, swift, clever characterization, a minimum of laborious exposition, and also have a common flaw: a rushed plot which overall is almost a side plot. The only reboot to truly escape this pitfall thus far is "Casino Royale", which successfully told a very tight story and also consistently developed Bond as a character. Bana is menacing enough and his ship is well-designed but overall he's no Khan or Chang and was much better-written in the Countdown prequel comic than in the film itself. There are also a series of massive contrivances to get everything where it needs to be which will have viewers rolling their eyes, but even these are handled well by the script, which is smooth and fast as opposed to clunky and sterile. Plus, they're necessary for this origin story not to be a typical boring origin story and become what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The partnership of director Abrams and  cinematographer Mindel will annoy some people with their deliberate use of lens flares as well as shaky cam in scenes (not in a Greengrass or worse, Peter Berg style, but merely a slightly unstable camera), but overall I found it to be consistently involving and thrilling to watch, with good visual storytelling throughout. I also quite enjoyed the lens flares. It's not quite on par with Nicholas Meyer's attempts for me but still good, and interesting. The score by Michael Giacchino suffers from familiarity and a lack of individual identity, but works well with the film itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris  Pine is absolutely terrific as Kirk, doing so much more than a Shatner impression and creating something of his own character (and it is, after all, an alternate Kirk) while absolutely nailing several of the trademark attitudes and behavior of the Kirk we all know and love. Much more than a pretty face, Pine's in for mega-stardom after this. Quinto's Spock is really quite terrific and much more nuanced than expected, and Spock's emotional story (and backstory) in the film is well-written as is Kirk's (though Spock gets a more emotional and better overall arc for sure). Pegg is fantastic as Scotty, used here mostly as comic relief. Urban's McCoy is the closest to an impersonation but overall just a joy and a pleasure to behold. Cho's alright as Sulu, who doesn't really get much to do (heck, when did he ever?), though Uhura is surprisingly prominent and well-played by Zoe Saldana. Yelchin as Chekhov is the only really problematic casting choice for me, he really overdoes the accent and takes you out of the film a bit. Bruce Greenwood as Pike nails the character and in a crucial role Leonard Nimoy shines yet again as Spock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abrams'  "Star Trek" isn't quite tight enough and emotional enough to compete with "The Wrath of Khan", isn't as much fun for me as "The Voyage Home", but overall is probably the third best Trek film to date, on par with "The Undiscovered Country". It's a fairly new direction, yet totally faithful to Trek where it needs to be: in spirit. In a world of dreary blockbusters and 'dark' reboots, this Trek, though grittier in terms of design than anything before, shines, from opening to closing, as an example of optimistic, exciting, thrilling, humorous, and thoroughly enjoyable adventure cinema, as well as a great addition to Trek's long, long history.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-6619975196482669108?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6619975196482669108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=6619975196482669108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/6619975196482669108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/6619975196482669108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2010/03/star-trek-2009-jj-abrams.html' title='Star Trek (2009, J.J. Abrams)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-5542422748216383739</id><published>2010-03-11T22:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T13:11:42.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Johnny Gaddaar (2007, Sriram Raghavan)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/s_1077248_6a1892b4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 289px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/s_1077248_6a1892b4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll just get this out of the way right now because it's the best way to sum up "Johnny Gaddaar" in one sentence: this is the best Tarantino film ever made, with the possible exception of QT's best film "Jackie Brown". That's not to say Sriram Raghavan is necessarily influenced by Tarantino. He might have been, but it's not necessarily an obvious influence. What is clear is that like Tarantino Raghavan is a director heavily influenced by pulpy crime fiction, a director and writer whose inspirations aren't highbrow, and one who isn't afraid to wear his influences on his sleeve. "Johnny Gaddaar" could have been adapted from an Elmore Leonard novel like "Jackie Brown" was, but was inspired more by the significantly lesser but still engaging works of legendary pulp writer James Hadley Chase (who achieved immense popularity in India and Africa), who Raghavan dedicated the film to, along with "Jewel Thief" director Vijay Anand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While "Jackie Brown" is the only film of  Tarantino's which I think is truly exceptional, I imagine I will enjoy Raghavan's other film as much as I did this film when I do see it. That's because Raghavan appears to be a smarter, more creative version of Tarantino, as much as that will seem like blasphemy to 14 year old Americans reading this. The references and homages are all significantly subtler than in most Tarantino films, and when included in dialogue they are worked in far more seamlessly. Moreover, Raghavan never loses sight of the story, something Tarantino frequently does, sadly. He appears to have a far greater grasp of the emotional aspects of his writing and direction as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no point in attempting to describe this film's  fairly complicated plot. It's a pulpy thriller plot with lots of twists and turns, and Raghavan's script is excellent, with solid dialogue (as far as I could tell from the English subtitles anyway), no major plot holes or questionable plot mechanics, and a neat, well thought-out structure. It's hardly original, and I read somewhere that Raghavan publicly acknowledges the heavy influence of one particular James Hadley Chase novel on the film as well as some other things, but it feels fresh, so it doesn't matter. The cinematography and sound mixing are very good, but Raghavan's direction is what interested me most. It definitely is 'stylish' and 'cool', but it's also restrained and again, he never loses sight of the story he's telling, which is essential when it's this sort of twisty pulp tale. Very good editing as well and a cool, understated sophistication and class about the visuals. Raghavan is a master at establishing a sense of setting and creating atmosphere. The original score and couple of original songs (which aren't intrusive musical numbers or anything) also help set the mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no  feeling in the world better than sleepily reading a twisty-turny pulp crime paperback on an overnight train ride. I don't think any movies have emulated that feeling better than "Jackie Brown" and "Johnny Gaddaar". They're both tremendous movies, both extremely well-crafted, smart thrillers which are proud to be pulpy crime stories, have great ensemble casts and well-developed characters as well as a great story. I liked "Johnny Gaddaar" on first viewing but it took another to make me realize just how brilliant it is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-5542422748216383739?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/5542422748216383739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=5542422748216383739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/5542422748216383739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/5542422748216383739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2010/03/johnny-gaddaar-2007-sriram-raghavan.html' title='Johnny Gaddaar (2007, Sriram Raghavan)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-5662901556101121405</id><published>2010-03-11T21:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T13:12:04.023-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979, Robert Wise)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/s_79945_ca5da66c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 303px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/s_79945_ca5da66c.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing that's nice about the original "Star Trek" television series is that it was almost never really dull. There were some awful episodes, there were some that are just annoying, in spite of good ideas and decent writing ("Miri", which I recently rewatched, comes to mind), but it was almost always entertaining at least, something which I can't say about "The Next Generation", unfortunately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However,  in spite of the brilliant effects, music, and design work, "Star Trek: The Motionless Picture" lives up to its title, remaining a lifeless, embalmed, almost unbelievably dull story for its entirety. Also, it's really not as intelligent or sophisticated as some of its fans like to claim. Directed by Robert Wise, who made several of my favorite films, this film fails on every level in terms of storytelling, and in its attempts to be a genuine science fiction epic falls flat throughout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The acting is really not good at all, and  what is most disappointing about "The Motionless Picture" is that it fails to capitalize on the most charming aspect of the original "Star Trek" (and the later series as well, other than "Voyager" in which it wasn't present): the dynamic between the characters. "Star Trek" may have explored concepts, but it's only rarely that it achieved true greatness in that field. Its success was based on well-written stories and great, rich characters and a successful dynamic between them. "The Motionless Picture" has none of that. How sad it is that I'd rather watch "The Way to Eden" than suffer through this again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-5662901556101121405?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/5662901556101121405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=5662901556101121405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/5662901556101121405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/5662901556101121405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2010/03/star-trek-motion-picture-1979-robert.html' title='Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979, Robert Wise)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-2030796812537974040</id><published>2010-03-11T21:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T13:12:30.499-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Waterloo Bridge (1931, James Whale)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_22550_e9404edb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_22550_e9404edb.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.movieposterdb.com/posters/08_03/1931/22550/l_22550_e9404edb.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty certain James Whale is one of my favorite directors. Potential pulp trash like "Frankenstein", "Bride of Frankenstein", and "The Old Dark House" were elevated to near-masterpieces (and in the case of the latter, a true masterpiece in my humble estimation) thanks to brilliant screenplays and Whale's wonderful, tasteful direction and sensibilities. "The Invisible Man" is still one of the best science fiction films ever made, and quite possibly the best Wells adaptation around, with the possible exception of "Island of Lost Souls". "Remember Last Night?" is a daring, hilarious, fascinating slice of unexpected social satire in the guise of a mystery-comedy, and remains woefully under-seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Waterloo Bridge" is yet another immensely  satisfying Whale film, and while (this being his second film) his technique is not at the same level as some of his later films, the film is still directed tastefully and often creatively, and is very well-shot as well. This was a pre-code film and hence I imagine is less sanitized than the 1940 Vivien Leigh/Robert Taylor version of the story. Mae Clarke is absolutely incredible here as a chorus girl-turned-prostitute who meets a naive 19 year old Canadian in wartime London. The writing is fantastic and the film, while melodramatic, is also subtle and tasteful in many regards. The humor (which is present in nearly all Whale films) is a lot of fun, and doesn't clash with the otherwise serious tone of the film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Waterloo Bridge" avoids the pitfalls of many  melodramas by remaining a very human story about love at its core. The ending is really over-the-top, perhaps even a bit laughable, but it doesn't ruin what came before: a really great pre-code melodrama, and another exceptional film directed by James Whale. It's a good production (although the Waterloo Bridge set is not very convincing now, of course) with excellent direction, good cinematography, great writing, and a wonderful cast, especially the two leads Mae Clarke and Douglass Montgomery, but also the wonderful character actor Frederick Kerr in a smaller, more humorous role.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-2030796812537974040?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2030796812537974040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=2030796812537974040' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/2030796812537974040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/2030796812537974040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2010/03/waterloo-bridge-1931-james-whale.html' title='Waterloo Bridge (1931, James Whale)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-6108182574092520949</id><published>2010-03-11T21:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T21:53:03.795-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Heart of the World (2000, Guy Maddin)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.johncoulthart.com/feuilleton/wp-content/uploads/2008/07/hotw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 454px; height: 248px;" src="http://www.johncoulthart.com/feuilleton/wp-content/uploads/2008/07/hotw.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like all Guy Maddin's films, "The Heart of the World" left me, well, speechless. I'm rarely insightful, usually articulate, but I can never write well about a Guy Maddin film. That Jonathan Rosenbaum wrote a whole essay on this film is not surprising, but it does leave me in awe. A wacky narrative featuring the usual Maddin love triangle, this is six and a half minutes of pure joy. The genius of "The Heart of the World" isn't its wackiness or the technical and stylistic qualities of the film, it's that it's not a bit of showboating, but a fascinating experimental success- what Maddin has done is made a whole feature in six minutes. Most short films are short because that's how they were written, that's how much material the filmmakers had and wanted to make. "The Heart of the World" could have easily been a feature. In fact, it has a more interesting 'plot' than a couple of Maddin's actual features (especially "Brand Upon the Brain!" for me). Rosenbaum suggests this might be the world's first 'subliminal melodrama'. That's a better description than I could come up with. I watched the movie twice in a row but I have a feeling I'll be watching it many, many more times. I absolutely loved this film, but not enough to eclipse "Elimination Dance" as my favorite Canadian short, though "The Heart of the World" is almost unquestionably the greater accomplishment. I prefer Maddin's features "My Winnipeg" and "Careful" to this, but again, it's the staggering accomplishment of this film that makes it so worthy of awe. How many filmmakers have done montage better?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-6108182574092520949?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6108182574092520949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=6108182574092520949' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/6108182574092520949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/6108182574092520949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2010/03/heart-of-world-2000-guy-maddin.html' title='The Heart of the World (2000, Guy Maddin)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-3793376411649111229</id><published>2010-03-11T21:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T13:14:20.114-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Punch-Drunk Love (2002, Paul Thomas Anderson)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_272338_9d4d3b43.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 409px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_272338_9d4d3b43.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Punch Drunk Love", in its own intimately tense manner, puts any of the famous scenes in "Magnolia" or "There Will Be Blood" to shame, and those two movies in their entirety as well. Far from any sort of lull in PTA's career, is a tight, compelling, fascinating film throughout, and the anamorphic cinematography by Robert Elswit is brilliant (with gorgeous, judicious use of lens flares- I like them to begin with but when you have a lens flare which expresses more emotion than almost anything else in the movie, THAT is something special), and Anderson's direction thoroughly assured, with a very interesting and controlled color palette. I hope to write a lengthy essay on this film at one point, there is certainly a lot of food for thought in both the visuals and the screenplay. It's just a formally fascinating film in every scene, and while I particularly loved the lighting of the film, the camera-work (including some extremely elaborate stuff which must have been very hard to pull off), and the sound design were incredible as well. Quite contrary to its reputation among some, this is a movie which is just phenomenal because it's so short and minimalistic and restrained in so many ways, which somehow isn't too much of a contrast with the rather bizarre story. Sandler's performance is terrific and he was given a great character, and the film is actually very emotionally compelling and mature (certainly far more so than something like "Magnolia"), and is made even more unique by (saving the best for last) Jon Brion's score.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-3793376411649111229?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3793376411649111229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=3793376411649111229' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/3793376411649111229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/3793376411649111229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2010/03/punch-drunk-love-2002-paul-thomas.html' title='Punch-Drunk Love (2002, Paul Thomas Anderson)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-7674129151524253255</id><published>2010-03-11T21:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T13:14:02.302-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Band of Outsiders (1964, Jean-Luc Godard)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_57869_2d7cd055.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 410px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_57869_2d7cd055.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"For latecomers arriving now, we offer a few words chosen at random... Three Weeks Earlier. A pile of money. An English class. A house by the river. A romantic girl."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The recipe for the most effortlessly  cool movie ever made. It's the sort of thing Tarantino has been trying to make for what seems like an eternity, what "Pulp Fiction", in occasional bursts, comes close to being. But that movie is too self-conscious, tries too hard. That's not to suggest that Godard wasn't conscious of what he was doing when writing this film- all writers are, we have to be. But I don't think Godard was trying too be cool, I think he just was. It's a cheap crime flick, according to some nothing too interesting at all, a rehash of "Breathless", and even some of the other New Wave giant Truffaut's movies... "Jules and Jim" and "Shoot the Piano Player" have been mentioned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's all part of this film's charm. Godard, a  favorite of mine, can be awfully pretentious and HAS been awfully pretentious. If you're consistently making experimental movies you think are challenging, if you are always changing your mind on what constitutes good cinema, if you're obsessed with quotes and references and philosophy and philosophers, you're bound to be pretentious on occasion. "Band of Outsiders" is a pulpy crime flick with great wit, fun characters, good performances and a well-told story, and that's all it is. It's a great film because it's great at being what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The screenplay is  glorious. The dialogue is gold, the narrative momentum never slows down, we know all we need to know about these people and their goals, and the movie's irreverent, hip air is a thing to behold. Or experience, rather. Great photography by Raoul Coutard. Everyone knows the best bits: the minute of silence, the dance scene, the visit to the Louvre. Depth is not needed in this sort of movie, it's a romp, plain and simple (though one with some amount of complexity- you can read it as Godard examining the need for escapism, specifically in the form of cinema, among other things). A glorious delight from start to finish and one of my favorite films. Unforgettable, still Godard's best film.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-7674129151524253255?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7674129151524253255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=7674129151524253255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/7674129151524253255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/7674129151524253255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2010/03/band-of-outsiders-1964-jean-luc-godard.html' title='Band of Outsiders (1964, Jean-Luc Godard)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-192035535110450466</id><published>2010-03-11T21:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T13:15:00.483-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Détective (1985, Jean-Luc Godard)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_139924_0089066_4aa1d8ef.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 431px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_139924_0089066_4aa1d8ef.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is why I love Godard. He turned a 'commercial' project he did in order to get financing for "Hail Mary" into one of his most enthralling late works, a sleeker, leaner, funnier, lighter version of the sort of film Godard made after the 60's. The film follows four different 'stories' in the Hotel Concorde Saint-Lazare in Paris, where the entire film is set. Something of a deconstruction of the detective film or film-noir on paper, but the film is more formally interesting than it is story-wise (though its 'narrative' is often very amusing and overall very entertaining). Although critical reviews of "Detective" seem to be positive (all the ones I can find anyway, including Variety and the New York Times among others), the film is overall not too popular, and from my experience not too well-liked by Godard fans either. Shame as well because the fact that "Detective" combines some of the zip and light humor of Godard's early work with the more experimental sensibilities of later Godard films doesn't mean this is in any way lacking as a filmic experiment. It's gorgeously-shot with superb, intricate mise-en-scène, and features some of the most interesting and complex editing in any Godard film, but what really steals the show is the sound, which is an entire world all on its own. The visual splendor of the film is not only complimented, but overshadowed by the creative sound editing and mixing, genius use of music, and aural gags and puns. Dedicated to Edgar G. Ulmer, Clint Eastwood, and John Cassavetes, "Detective" is one of Godard's best, and likely his most criminally under-appreciated. It does ask for a patient, observant audience willing to listen carefully, but rewards that patience with great comic energy and some fascinating and beautiful aural experimentation. One of the best casts Godard ever worked with as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-192035535110450466?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/192035535110450466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=192035535110450466' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/192035535110450466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/192035535110450466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2010/03/detective-1985-jean-luc-godard.html' title='Détective (1985, Jean-Luc Godard)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-8236903770692993085</id><published>2010-03-11T21:27:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T13:15:20.009-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jekyll (2008)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_497298_dd8fe4ba.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 425px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_497298_dd8fe4ba.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's one of the most brilliantly engaging, twisted, hilarious, morbidly fascinating pieces of television writing in ages. "Jekyll", very unlike Steven Moffat, also falls apart a bit at the end. At least, it does if you consider it a stand-alone mini-series. That Moffat has written a second series of the show does not matter if it never appears on our television screens, and it appears from interviews and such that Moffat regards the second series as a 'sequel' to this, which suggests this should be able to stand alone. And it does, for the most part. The final episode, however, solves most of the questions and gives satisfying answers to the questions so brilliantly posed by Mr. Moffat during the first five episodes... then goes and throws in a few new questions, including one huge mystery posed by the epilogue of the series, one which causes the answers which previously made sense to be questioned, and yet is worked so intricately into the fabric of the elaborate plot Moffat lays out that it is impossible to ignore or dismiss as a cheap sensationalist shock moment. It would be an effective teaser for an upcoming series if the upcoming series were anything approaching a certainty, but since this was, to some extent, supposed to stand alone it is a tragically poor ending, beyond the initial jolt of the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is so much going on in "Jekyll"  psychologically, so much going on in the writing, layers of meaning and layers of narrative devices being used at all times, that one could write a dissertation in many different fields in Humanities, Social Sciences, and Sciences on just six episodes of television. That is impressive, but almost not as impressive as Moffat taking a literary classic with huge popularity and truly making something that is almost entirely his own from it. This is not an 'adaptation', this is pretty much an original script with characters (and not even really that) and a central plot (and not really even that) we're familiar with. It is originality in a field of unoriginality, and proves with great finality that modern-day adaptations don't have to be dull. There's no point in even comparing this to Stevenson, whose story had different concerns and a different ideology. Jekyll and Hyde here serve as the basis of a different (and much more modern) exploration of duality than in Stevenson's novel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With  his "Doctor Who" episodes and with later series of "Coupling", Moffat displayed a knack for being clever with structure and with story. His scripts have always worn their complexity on their sleeves, which is great when the thing works organically and completely. "Jekyll" is five episodes of absolutely some of the most dazzling, brilliant storytelling ever on television, and one of the most unique takes on a literary classic I can think of, then... Maybe, just maybe, Moffat tried to be too clever and lost the thread a bit. There are several plot issues, but let's not bother with those. Hopefully we will see what Moffat had in mind for the second series in some form. If left unproduced, perhaps the scripts will somehow find their way online. As it stands right now, "Jekyll" is 97% of an astonishing television classic, and that 3% is a lot harder to ignore than you'd think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-8236903770692993085?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/8236903770692993085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=8236903770692993085' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/8236903770692993085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/8236903770692993085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2010/03/jekyll-2008.html' title='Jekyll (2008)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-826264569036128127</id><published>2010-03-11T21:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T10:26:31.184-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Undertow (2004, David Gordon Green)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_80865_0360130_956ca6c3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 421px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_80865_0360130_956ca6c3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.movieposterdb.com/posters/06_01/2004/0360130/l_80865_0360130_956ca6c3.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Southern Gothic fairytale directed by David Gordon Green and shot by his regular DP Tim Orr and scored by Phillip Glass with a cast of superb actors young and old. Doesn't that sound too good to be true? The critical consensus when the film was originally released, bar raves from Jonathan Rosenbaum and Roger Ebert and positive notices from other reputable sources such as the New York Times, Village Voice, AV Club, and Chicago Tribune, seemed to suggest, basically, that it was. Lots of talk about David Gordon Green and Southern Gothic being a clumsy fit (totally ludicrous suggestion), there being no real movie beneath the allusions and style (banal critic-speak), and more banal critic-speak dismissing the film as a derivative mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose my opinion is  no more valid than that of those who dismissed the film, but "Undertow" strikes me, with five viewings of it under my belt, as David Gordon Green's best and most interesting film. The characters are well-developed within the ideals and ideas of the story and film. My fiancée's biggest problem with the film was the characterization of the villain played by Josh Lucas. He shows up snarling and menacing and remains so for the movie, given clear motivation but hardly 'well-developed'. However, the movie seems to be perfectly content with following the traditional style of the Southern Gothic story, the chase movie, and the fairytale. This villain might not be the best-developed in film history, but he works within the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The screenwriters, director David Gordon Green and  co-writer Joe Conway (an English teacher apparently, you can tell just by watching the movie), write their characters to fit within a certain ideal, and as such one could argue that most of the characters in "Undertow" are mythic figures more than characters, with the focus being largely on the two brothers at the core of the story, played by the immensely talented young actors Jamie Bell and Devon Alan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The film's  predictability appears to be an issue for many but I like how earnest Gordon Green and his cast and crew are in telling this story. I like that there's no cheap hipster irony. The reason it's predictable is that it's been done a thousand times before, but clearly nobody involved thinks there was a problem with doing it again. Where I disagree with several critics and IMDb reviewers is on the idea that "Undertow" doesn't distinguish itself from those which came before. I disagree. All a film needs to distinguish itself is quality, and "Undertow" has plenty of that. It's remarkably well-written, outside some narrative confusion, and Tim Orr's gloomy Southern Gothic imagery match perfectly with what is easily Phillip Glass' most underrated score, and one of his very best overall, creating a stark, beautiful atmosphere. David Gordon Green again focuses more on ambiance and character, but also seems more interested here than in his earlier films in telling a single story, but does so with a decisive preference for story over 'plot'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps the victim of unfair and incorrect  expectations, "Undertow" seems to have at least held on to a relatively high reputation, and hopefully will be remembered in the future for the masterpiece it is. Looked at for what it is, a fanciful tale of the bond between two brothers and their journey together, including numerous episodic encounters along the way (again the fairytale aspect comes into play) and not really the gritty chase film some critics seem to have mistaken it for, "Undertow" is a unique triumph. A tour-de-force from a director below the age of 30 blessed with class and sophistication and intelligence and a cinematographer and composer and cast who seemed destined to make this film.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-826264569036128127?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/826264569036128127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=826264569036128127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/826264569036128127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/826264569036128127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2010/03/undertow-2004-david-gordon-green.html' title='Undertow (2004, David Gordon Green)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-7850949833093777777</id><published>2009-02-11T13:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T13:24:45.716-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Generation Kill (2008)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_995832_f285fcac.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 443px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_995832_f285fcac.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Proof that "Generation Kill", the miniseries produced by HBO films and written by David Simon and Ed Burns, their first project after the end of their television landmark "The Wire", a series which is completely incomparable in quality and scope to anything which has come before or since, is too intelligent to be concerned with simplistic political sloganeering, blind patriotism, or taking an anti-militaristic stance is the reaction which the political extremes have had to it. Any person with far right views I've spoken to or read on the internet has said similar things: this movie emasculates the marines and turns them into bleeding heart liberals (presumably because the film, and I will be referring to this as a film from this point onwards because it's definitely as much a film as "Berlin Alexanderplatz" is, has the guts to portray them as having compassion for wounded or killed civilians), and any person with far left views I've spoken to has apparently found the film to be immoral, presumably because it portrays men who spew violent, racist, homophobic, and misogynist invective as human beings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, "Generation Kill" is the farthest thing from either celebrating the military or being anti-militaristic. Like on "The Wire", David Simon and Ed Burns are on the side of the working class, as Kent Jones in Film Comment points out, and they have no interest in making a moral judgment on the nature of the work they're portraying, whether it's teaching, politics, drug dealing, or invading a country. Like Simon went beyond portraying drug dealers on "The Wire" to transporting us to their world and showing us their own problems, their own moral standards, their own worries and concerns, and introduced us to their own vernacular, he does the same with the marine corps in "Generation Kill". Like "The Wire", this is cunning and clever drama: it is political without taking sides, concerned with the inefficiency and bad planning coming 'from above' but without putting the blame on any individuals. It portrays people, some less likable and morally or politically correct than others, but people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing keeping "Generation Kill" from truly being a military version of "The Wire" is that its comparatively limited scope- it takes place within the first, 'triumphant' week of the invasion, and focuses pretty much only on one group of people. I'm entirely convinced that Simon could have written a thoroughly engrossing and fascinating drama about the Iraq war which extended past these five days, one which would have taken us past the marine corps into the lives of the other military units involved in the invasion, and the higher-ups as well, as he did starting in season 3 in "The Wire". As it stands, this is not a limitation of the power which "Generation Kill" holds, but a masterstroke in its success of making its point: every element which has made the situation in Iraq so chaotic was present in a latent form from the beginning. The film is not even really making a moral judgment of the war in Iraq, if anything it supports a well-executed version of it: most of the Iraqis we see, nearly 90% of them, are incredibly grateful, at least at this early stage, for being relieved of Saddam's rule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moreover, no American marine or any Iraqi is portrayed simplistically as a 'bad guy' or 'good guy', not even the bloodthirstiest of the Americans, and this writing is brought to life admirably well by the mostly perfect cast and the excellent direction and production value (it is obviously not a big-budget Hollywood film, but it still achieves real authenticity in almost every regard- the closest I came to disbelieving it was when a few Iraqis were portrayed as darker-skinned than any I've seen). The closest thing to a villain in the film is Saddam himself, who makes no literal appearance outside of posters on the streets, but then again he is pretty much the closest thing to a movie 'bad guy' in reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Generation Kill" is, like "The Wire", ultimately a workplace drama about workplace politics. That the stakes are higher and that the innocent are killed even more often than they are on "The Wire" is irrelevant to the writers. This may make "Generation Kill" boring to those accustomed to and expecting a more standard war film, one which attempts an anti-war or pro-war statement. Like "The Wire" again, what the viewer is left with in the end is only a dislike of unnecessary violence and casualties, and a portrayal of the toll they take on those involved in either perpetrating the violence or those related to the victims. Both "The Wire" and "Generation Kill" are dramatically built on disappointment and disillusionment with the system in place itself, and like "The Wire" it is all about bad decisions, mistakes, and the rare good decision. The film ends with a montage and a song, much like every season of "The Wire", and with its subtle summation of the hours gone by and its emotional impact it cements David Simon's status as one of the greatest and most important writers of our time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-7850949833093777777?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7850949833093777777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=7850949833093777777' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/7850949833093777777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/7850949833093777777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2009/02/generation-kill-2008.html' title='Generation Kill (2008)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-1548746080608231324</id><published>2009-02-11T13:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T21:07:05.957-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pet Sematary (1989, Mary Lambert)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_132434_0098084_93a93e4a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 458px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_132434_0098084_93a93e4a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;"Pet Sematary" has one thing many of King's better works don't have: a great ending. A great final act, too, which is where a lot of other King novels fall apart a bit. This one really comes together. It's a good story too, a disturbing one, and one of the saddest examinations of a family falling apart, a theme King is fond of. Especially because unlike something like "The Shining", there was no strain on the familial relationships at the beginning of the story. Still, it's not one of King's better novels because there's some notably bad prose ('time was slipping through his hands like something that had been greased' is a particularly egregious example of this), but for the most part it's really very good, and it's a great example of how you can write a horror story which doesn't even really become one until nearly halfway through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pet Sematary", the film, is around as good, and is definitely one of the better King adaptations. The screenplay, written by King himself, is terrific, with all the additions and subtractions from the source material making total sense, and no dialogue that stood out as particularly bad to me. Even more pleasingly, most of the psychology at play in the book is present in the filmic version, and I'm becoming increasingly confident that King is the best person to bring his own work to life on the screen as a screenwriter. Even "The Stand", a miniseries I thought dreadfully poor as far as the direction and the general production went, was generally pretty well-written.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The film's major flaw is the acting, with the only really good performance coming from Fred Gwynne, who played Judd. King is a master of atmosphere, and very rarely do the settings his stories play out in come to life well on screen. As many problems as I (controversially) had with "The Shining", Kubrick's Overlook was every bit as good as King's Overlook. Likewise, Mary Lambert and the cinematographer do a great job making this film as effectively creepy as it is, and the pet cemetery and burial ground are tremendously well-realized. Also, the climactic stages of the film could not have possibly been done better. The whole last half hour is absolutely one of the creepiest bits of film ever made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had the film featured a better overall cast and had a better-realized Zelda, it really could have been one of the best horror movies ever made, but I found it immensely satisfying in its own right, and Gage Creed makes every other creepy child in cinema history look cute and cuddly in comparison. "I've got something for you, mommy".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-1548746080608231324?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/1548746080608231324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=1548746080608231324' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/1548746080608231324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/1548746080608231324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2009/02/pet-sematary-1989-mary-lambert.html' title='Pet Sematary (1989, Mary Lambert)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-6995894049711510897</id><published>2009-02-11T13:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T13:15:04.992-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Shape of Things (2003, Neil LaBute)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_308878_4187a78c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 428px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_308878_4187a78c.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Until I watched "The Shape of Things" a few hours ago my only exposure to acclaimed modern playwright Neil LaBute were a few clips of Nicholas Cage's apparently horrible performance in LaBute's apparently abysmal remake of the unforgettable British horror classic "The Wicker Man". With my interest in theater, modern theater specifically, growing rapidly with every passing day, it was inevitable that I would sit down and watch a Neil LaBute film, one adapted from one of his own plays for the screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The Shape of Things" is a further extension of my lucky streak with recent movie picks, as I have either really liked or loved all of my past six film viewings, and this film belongs in the latter group. A comedy so dark I felt guilty for laughing, a film so dramatically compelling and ultimately devastating that I was left literally close to tears by the end of it. It's easy to see how many could really, really hate this movie. It's cruel, misanthropic, bleak, its sense of humor is twisted, and it's really not 'fun' at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I'm sure some will disagree, "The Shape of Things" is one of that rare breed of film I like to call the 'night-ruiner'. LaBute's screenplay, which is probably almost exactly the same as his original play, is a deft, clever, interesting examination of a number of things: friendship, how easily influenced we can be, how we perceive each other, the nature of art, and more, but works ultimately thanks to its emotional impact. A play (or screenplay) of this sort never amounts to anything if the characters aren't compelling and from start to finish these characters most certainly are. Adam is the lead character, played excellently by Paul Rudd in one of the more demanding roles he's taken on, and along with Gretchen Mol's character Jenny he's really the only decent character in the film. Frustratingly naive, but nice enough. All the performances are good enough for the material, and LaBute's direction is very basic but effective enough. I can definitely see how he could fail when taking on a bigger project not adapted from his own work, but I'll wait and see for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, nobody's going to call this a masterpiece of subtlety anytime soon, but lots of great drama is in-your-face, and this is rich enough that when a character stands up and speaks to us for several minutes about some of the things the film is about it doesn't feel dumb or unnecessary, but fairly effective and interesting. There's other stuff the screenplay and the film doesn't shove in our face, and the last half hour probably works because it's so upfront about things. It's a very theatrical presentation, and probably works better in that setting, but the film is still a fast-paced, well-written, and fairly enthralling examination of human behavior and how we look at each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-6995894049711510897?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6995894049711510897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=6995894049711510897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/6995894049711510897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/6995894049711510897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2009/02/shape-of-things-2003-neil-labute.html' title='The Shape of Things (2003, Neil LaBute)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-5834224182869481326</id><published>2009-01-20T23:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T23:09:32.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'>JCVD (2008, Mebrouk El Mechri)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_1130988_2b51c736.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 413px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_1130988_2b51c736.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"JCVD" had me at its opening scene. A wildly over-the-top action scene with much typical Van Damme ass-kicking (and accompanied by a Curtis Mayfield tune) is followed by Jean-Claude walking off the set, heading straight for the director, a young, talentless hack, to complain about the filming. The director says to his interpreter in Chinese: "Just because he brought John Woo to Hollywood doesn't mean he can rub my dick with sandpaper", and the interpreter gives a nonsense excuse about how not having a gun preserves the character's integrity. It's funnier than anything in Ben Stiller's industry spoof "Tropic Thunder", and certainly far closer to reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, the rest of the film does not disappoint. The film's conceit is clever: Van Damme's dislike of the films he works on is clear, he's got an awful, typically Hollywood agent (at one point Van Damme asks what he's working on next, to which his agent replies "Feel No Injury, it's about a Vietnam vet who...", Van Damme assures his agent that they shot that film several months ago and his agent responds by looking through his papers and offering a corrected response, "Feel No Injury II, it's about a gulf war vet..."), has basically become a joke and knows it, and is fighting for custody of his daughter. The next step after these establishing scenes is, naturally, to put the 'real' Van Damme in a situation right out of a movie he might have starred in- he gets stuck in the midst of a hostage situation at a bank, while attempting to make a withdrawal to pay his lawyer. The twist? Everyone outside the bank, including the police and a huge crowd of fans, believe he is the one taking the hostages, and in this scenario Van Damme is powerless, unable to just kick and punch his way out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going into the film I had expected an entertaining, slightly &lt;span class="spell"&gt;angsty&lt;/span&gt; meta-narrative about Van Damme in a hostage situation. What I got was something far funnier, far more thrilling and involving, and certainly far more genuinely emotional than the film probably had any right to be. The in-jokes are fun ("if it wasn't for you he'd still be shooting pigeons in Hong Kong", "... well, at least he made 'Face/Off'"), several scenes are genuinely suspenseful, but most surprising of all is that the film features one of the greatest scenes in years: just past the hour mark Van Damme faces the camera and delivers a lengthy soliloquy on why he made the movie, why he decided to take up karate, and expresses his feelings on celebrity, his own image, women, drugs, and Hollywood. It's bordering on ridiculous, but how can anyone laugh when Jean-Claude Van Damme is baring his soul on camera and actually crying? The scene either proves that Van Damme is not as limited an actor as most think he is, or that there was no real acting involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cinematography, specifically the lighting, will bother some people but I thought it was quite good, and El Mechri is a fine director, who juggles the comedic and dramatic aspects of the film as well as the thriller side of it successfully. Van Damme's performance is, for my money, the best of the year, challenged only by Clint Eastwood's potential acting farewell in "Gran Torino" and Sean Penn's surprisingly effective turn in "Milk". While I don't expect much agreement, "JCVD" is my second favorite film of 2008, just after "My Winnipeg", and one of the most enjoyable viewing experiences I've had in quite some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-5834224182869481326?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/5834224182869481326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=5834224182869481326' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/5834224182869481326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/5834224182869481326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2009/01/jcvd-2008-mebrouk-el-mechri.html' title='JCVD (2008, Mebrouk El Mechri)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-3336463373562521814</id><published>2009-01-20T23:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T23:05:24.299-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Coeurs (2006, Alain Resnais)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_498120_16e6cb65.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 444px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_498120_16e6cb65.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;There are several reasons why I chose "Coeurs" as the first Alain Resnais film I would see, chief among them that it seemed interesting and was one of his more acclaimed recent films (and I didn't want to start with films of his that were probably influenced very heavily by the 'Nouveau Roman' writers he worked with, including obviously Alain Robbe-Grillet on "Last Year at Marienbad" and Marguerite Duras on "Hiroshima mon amour"). Also, I find myself very interested in the works of artists who have lived longer than most of us will but are still working, as there is frequently a sort of experience and wisdom there which fascinates me. Also, it was pointed out to me by more than one person that a screenplay I had written with a friend (before either of us had seen or even heard of "Coeurs") was conceptually similar and, according to the one person who had read it, had some plot similarities too. Naturally I wanted to see it for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ultimately, aside from the format which is quite similar in its moving frequently between different groups of characters for relatively short scenes, there was only one striking similarity which I could detect: in both screenplays two characters go on a blind date using fake names. Other than that, my approach and thought process was almost entirely dissimilar to Resnais', and naturally, although I'd love to say otherwise, it is his which is more interesting. I call it Resnais' approach, but the film is based on an English play and translated/adapted by Jean-Michel Ribes, so due credit to them as well obviously. Still, I was impressed, after hearing from more than one person about Resnais being a generally unintellectual, commercial film-maker, with not only the film's formally dazzling structure, look, and editing, but with the impressive restraint shown at every step. There's no showboating here, and Resnais does absolutely nothing with the film that is not important somehow to the story and characters. His constant use of partitions, the emphasized staginess of the film (though not the acting), as well as the dissolves linking each scene to the next are all crucial to the thematic content of the film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I initially met the film with some resistance. Some of the humor was too cute, and it felt like light fluff to me initially. However, much like numerous other films, "Coeurs" eventually came together, making the whole experience worthwhile. Ultimately the only things which truly bothered me were some intrusive clichés, all of which were linked directly to the character Charlotte, who really singlehandedly keeps the film from reaching true greatness. Any scenes with her feel like a waste compared to the dazzling scenes with the other characters. Well, to be fair, not every scene: the stuff with Lionel is quite strong (but certainly not the nonsense with his father, which isn't funny nor dramatically strong). When you have a mosaic-like structure of this sort, it's natural that some parts will be less interesting (and it's up to the individual which parts are less interesting), but my personal reaction to Charlotte and her relationship with Thierry was not even mild amusement, but a severe disinterest. The film is oddly distant, surely to emphasize the loneliness of these characters, but it's also wonderfully warm most of the time, and most of the characters are extremely well-drawn. Then you have a caricature who is never truly explored to significantly lessen the quality of the film. It's just plain disappointing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A very interesting film, certainly a technically excellent and formally interesting one, but I was disappointed in the lesser sections of it. Still, it gets a strong recommendation from me, due to Resnais' direction, thanks to the truly superb acting, and, obviously, the parts of the film (which is the majority of it) which didn't get on my nerves. It's just frustrating that it falls just short of greatness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-3336463373562521814?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3336463373562521814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=3336463373562521814' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/3336463373562521814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/3336463373562521814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2009/01/coeurs-2006-alain-resnais.html' title='Coeurs (2006, Alain Resnais)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-5791866523924835566</id><published>2008-12-24T21:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T11:23:11.477-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Les Carabiniers (1963, Jean-Luc Godard)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_56905_955d6d7b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 401px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_56905_955d6d7b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;A Godard war film. Of course, you can expect lots of politics, a completely impersonal and detached sort of film, one which doesn't have a rosy view of human nature, and contains satirical elements. Essentially, "Les Carabiniers" is a film that attempts to be neither involving nor formally compelling, and inhabits a world of its own, really. It's dark and vicious and ugly, but stops for comic set-pieces and unabashedly dark satirical digs at war-mongerers and violence in general. It's not really an anti-war film, it's an anti-'war film' which completely subverts all of the conventions of the genre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as Godard's ouevre goes, this is unquestionably one of his least satisfying works, and competes with "Made in U.S.A." for the title of his worst 60's film. The jokes are smug and self-satisfied (without being interesting, as much of Godard's work is), and the politics are similar to what made Godard's Marxist period in the late sixties/early seventies so unbearably aggravating. "Les Carabiniers", with its plot concerning two peasants drafted into the king's army, whose victories on the battlefields lead to their execution as traitors, offers little of worth narratively or even on a technical level, with some interesting experimental editing and typically Godard-ian attempts to remind the audience that it's just a movie shining bright amidst a muddle of superficial and rather stupid political satire and scatter-shot attempts at disconnect and surrealism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Les Carabiniers" was originally regarded as a disaster, but is now acclaimed by many. Neither consensus has it right, but I'd say that the critics who lambasted it in the 60's were a bit closer to the truth than those who praise it today. It's an important film to see when studying Godard as an auteur, but it is indicative of his worst rather than his best work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-5791866523924835566?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/5791866523924835566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=5791866523924835566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/5791866523924835566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/5791866523924835566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2008/12/les-carabiniers-1963-jean-luc-godard.html' title='Les Carabiniers (1963, Jean-Luc Godard)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-9060153780381325055</id><published>2008-12-21T19:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T19:34:03.040-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Burn After Reading (2008, Joel &amp; Ethan Coen)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_887883_6921e46f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 424px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_887883_6921e46f.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm not the only one to notice the pattern in the Coens' filmography: "Blood Simple." was followed by "Raising Arizona", "Fargo" by "The Big Lebowski", and "No Country for Old Men" by "Burn After Reading". The main concern one had about this film is whether it would be an "Intolerable Cruelty" or a "Big Lebowski" for the Coens. Let's put it this way: the reviews have been mixed, especially from major mainstream media critics. Guess what other Coen comedy received mixed reviews and was accused of being a somewhat tired mess? Yep, "The Big Lebowski".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Coens' sense of humor is very distinctive, and I'm not talking about stuff like "Intolerable Cruelty" (this one the mainstream media liked, go figure) and "The Ladykillers", which featured numerous commercial concessions. I'm talking about the vicious, cruel, misanthropic farce that gets self-important critics' knickers in a twist. Describing "Burn After Reading" as a screwball spy farce makes it sound much more "Austin Powers" than it is. There is a lot of silliness, but the sort of silliness one finds in a Howard Hawks comedy, not in most comedies that have been made recently. It's a screwball comedy but a pretty dark one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is most certainly an acquired taste. It is not going to go down well with people who can't laugh at murder, things going terribly wrong for innocent people, or the Cones' trademark dialogue that pops up even in 'serious' movies like "Fargo" and "No Country for Old Men". However, "Burn After Reading" was seemingly tailor-made for my cruel sense of humor, as I found it to be easily the most inspired comedy script in a long time. It's a conspiracy espionage thriller with no stakes, nothing to fight over, a bunch of complete fools and idiots caught in the middle of it ("a league of morons" if you listen to John Malkovich's character), and disastrous consequences for just about everyone. Take out the jokes and you could have a tragedy but as it stands this is the funniest movie the Coens have made since "The Big Lebowski", if not the best, and that includes "O Brother, Where Art Thou?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One really shouldn't know anything about the plot or how it unfolds prior to seeing it, as this is a film which is far more intricately-plotted than most critics are giving it credit for. The basic concept is that Frances McDormand and Brad Pitt's characters come across a disc they think contains top secret intelligence. What follows is, as described above, a thriller with no stakes and a bunch of idiots. It's one of those movies where you really shouldn't be laughing (for ethical reasons) but are, and it will have you laughing through your disapproval for basically the entirety of the film after the opening fifteen minutes or so, which are rough in comparison to the rest of the film, and to be honest the only thing that keeps this film from being absolutely brilliant and the Coens' best movie since "Lebowski". Just don't go in expecting a movie that looks as beautiful as many of their movies do- Lubezki is no Deakins, at least not based on his work here, and the Coens are very clearly attempting to emulate in many ways the look of the sort of thriller they're basing this on. It's functional, well-shot, and well-directed, but the writing and acting are the main attractions here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, "Burn After Reading" will be dismissed as having little worth and for being a disposable farce by many. Well, if only they knew how hard it is to do comedy well. I'd reckon this was harder to write than the (admittedly tremendous) "No Country for Old Men", which was adapted from a novel that might as well have been a screenplay if formatted correctly. The movie may not start brilliantly (not that it isn't good even early on), but once the Coens start firing on all cylinders they never stop, and the dream cast certainly doesn't either (Brad Pitt has a smaller role than most cast members here, but he is absolutely brilliant in the role), showing tremendous comic skill that few would have guessed most of them had. The final scene may very well be one of the best I have seen in a long, long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What a clusterf-ck!", indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-9060153780381325055?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/9060153780381325055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=9060153780381325055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/9060153780381325055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/9060153780381325055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2008/12/burn-after-reading-2008-joel-ethan-coen.html' title='Burn After Reading (2008, Joel &amp; Ethan Coen)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-5443828021096753584</id><published>2008-11-30T17:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T17:07:26.682-08:00</updated><title type='text'>American Gigolo (1980, Paul Schrader)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_150909_0080365_1a0f87e6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 453px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_150909_0080365_1a0f87e6.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;"American Gigolo" really is slick and stylish. As slick and stylish as any film could be, so you really wonder whether this is Schrader's film or Jerry Bruckheimer's? If you look solely at the screenplay, it almost fits into the typical Schrader exploration of any given 'seedy underworld'. You could even argue that Julian and Michelle are in a way similar to Travis and Betty. Looking at the final product, however, I see a slick Hollywood mystery-thriller that's actually far more interesting for its romantic sub-plot than for any of the suspense parts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong, in places "American Gigolo" is a quality character study, and the romance is as well-written as you could ever expect from a major, mainstream Hollywood production, but the suspense thriller portion is just so banal, expected, and predictable that it really takes away from an otherwise very good film. Perhaps most worthy of praise here is Richard Gere who gives one of his best performances here, and I certainly cannot even begin to imagine John Travolta in the lead role.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sounds like I'm criticizing how stylish this film is, I'm really not. It's pulled off pretty darn well in comparison to how many films of this sort have ended up, and you have to admit Gere's wardrobe is impressive. The film is well-shot and well-acted and for the most part quite well-written (although this is far, far from Paul Schrader's best work as a screenwriter). My comments on the film's slickness are really just a natural reaction to this film coming right after "Hardcore". Indeed, it seems like this film is a signpost for the early 80's (the dud of a score proves it) where in Hollywood even homicide cases with a Gigolo as the main suspect are glamorous rather than gritty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of people hate this film, but it has also gained a large cult following and a respectable following from film critics and aficionados, even landing a spot on the 'They Shoot Pictures, Don't They?' top 1000 list, and I can't really understand why anyone would have such extreme feelings about a film that is just watchable and entertaining. I don't think Schrader did his best work here, but it's not his worst either and the film as a whole is so unimposing and forgettable that I find it hard to believe it has so many fans and so many detractors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-5443828021096753584?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/5443828021096753584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=5443828021096753584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/5443828021096753584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/5443828021096753584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2008/11/american-gigolo-1980-paul-schrader.html' title='American Gigolo (1980, Paul Schrader)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-6129184505738466107</id><published>2008-11-28T17:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T17:01:12.846-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Risky Business (1983, Paul Brickman)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_86200_495b1289.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 467px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_86200_495b1289.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Risky Business" may ultimately be a well-liked film but it is now perceived by many as a dated relic, remembered more for Tom Cruise dancing to "Old Time Rock and Roll" than for its sharp satire, excellent dialogue, and stylish visual sensibility and use of music. Thankfully it remains a widely-praised film among critics (there is not one negative review on Rotten Tomatoes) who seem to appreciate it more than modern audiences, specifically younger modern audiences. Most insulting of all the dismissals is the suggestion that this is little more than a male fantasy flick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paul Brickman (also responsible for writing Jonathan Demme's greatest film, "Handle with Care") achieved something truly great here- he took the much-maligned, generally moronic high school sex comedy and turned it into something much more, a surprisingly effective romance with some really dark, contemplative moments, as well as a healthy dose of irony and symbolism which elevates the script to a whole new level. Moreover, this is more of a movie about 80's materialism and suburbia (and the satire here is wonderfully understated and played just right, just obvious enough for the less intelligent or less focused among us to notice but not heavy-handed at all) than about teenagers having sex. Even the large part of the film that deals with call girls, pimps, and the teen male fantasy is loaded with irony and satire. Only in its most superficial elements is "Risky Business" a teen sex comedy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course one could say that Brickman is having it both ways- "Risky Business" was a massive hit within the exact same capitalist system he's satirizing here, but that doesn't harm the finished result of the film itself, which is still as sharp and bitter as it always has been. I know nothing about Brickman but I assume that he's either lazy, disillusioned, or just as rich as he wants to be because his lack of a lengthy career as a director is surprising; "Risky Business" boasts fine cinematography but also a dark, dreamlike style full of what Dave Kehr of the Chicago Reader describes as 'sinuous camera movements and surrealistic insinuations'. Brickman's handling of tone is also superb- the movie is never too dark, never too sunny, always maintaining a tone of 'haunting, lyrical satire' to quote Dave Kehr yet again (because his capsule review says all there is to be said about the film in a short paragraph, go search for it). Also contributing to the atmosphere is the amazing Tangerine Dream score and the effective use of popular songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to sell the film short on its superficial merits either; it you want to laugh this is a very, very funny film, and it works fine on the basic level of a comedy (though it's not anywhere near as raunchy as some fans of the genre would probably want it to be). Tom Cruise makes for an excellent lead and the supporting characters and actors are all memorable as well (who doesn't love Guido the Killer Pimp?). "Risky Business" is perhaps the only truly great film that can be called a 'teen sex comedy', and remains a completely worthwhile film so many years after its release.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-6129184505738466107?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6129184505738466107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=6129184505738466107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/6129184505738466107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/6129184505738466107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2008/11/risky-business-1983-paul-brickman.html' title='Risky Business (1983, Paul Brickman)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-8194619122670534621</id><published>2008-11-18T17:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T17:40:02.369-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The War Game (1965, Peter Watkins)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_70050_0059894_69bf8ffa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 422px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_70050_0059894_69bf8ffa.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For some reason nuclear war has come to be viewed as a dated threat, a relic of the cold war paranoia. Let's take a look at some of the countries currently possessing nuclear weapons: Russia, the United States, Israel, Pakistan, India... Not exactly some of the most historically peaceful states. I still view nuclear war as a possibility; it is not likely, but it is still possible and still worth being afraid of. The thought of a few states having leverage over the rest of the world as a result of possessing nuclear weaponry is a frightening reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Legendary British TV and film director Peter Watkins' hypothetical 'documentary' on the results of a nuclear attack on Britain in the 1960's won the Academy Award for Best Documentary, even though the Academy knew very well that it was fictional. Still, I would argue that it deserved the award, not only for its unquestionable quality, but as it is frighteningly, terrifyingly educational on the known, scientifically accurate facts it presents on a nuclear attack's effects on the human body and on any given city- even if the attack took place at a distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watkins' film is brilliant. It is all the more effective now as the world slowly forgets Hiroshima and Nagasaki, slowly forgets the scale of the horror and destruction which can result from the use of such weapons. The film is an expertly constructed, brutally effective drama, filmed as a documentary and, aside from the events 'documented' being hypothetical, is completely accurate on all of its details, with information taken directly from experts and from nuclear test sites. As much as it is not a real 'documentary', it is one of the most frighteningly realistic ones ever made. The film is so horrifying, so disgusting, so disturbing, that it was not shown by the BBC, who originally commissioned it, until the 1980's, following the success of the similar but fully dramatized "Threads", a film that is possibly even more effective in its portrayal of the horror of nuclear war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The War Game" is an undisputed classic and completely deserving of its reputation. It's 46 minutes of pure, undiluted horror, and is one of the best 'horror' films ever made. While the dumb, self-satisfied gorehounds are looking for obscure Chinese films which focus on faked or real torture, while they are praising the stupid, braindead "Cannibal Holocaust", this terrifying pseudo-documentary on a very real and very scary subject is left relatively neglected. One of very, very few films which are actually 'scary'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-8194619122670534621?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/8194619122670534621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=8194619122670534621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/8194619122670534621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/8194619122670534621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2008/11/war-game-1965-peter-watkins.html' title='The War Game (1965, Peter Watkins)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-8738752496645508873</id><published>2008-11-03T15:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T17:11:50.007-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gone Baby Gone (2007, Ben Affleck)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_452623_df6a896f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 442px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_452623_df6a896f.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Adapted from the (very good) novel by Dennis Lehane, "Gone Baby Gone" is a powerhouse of a directorial debut from Ben Affleck, and is an unexpectedly excellent, powerful crime drama with, thankfully, a sense of realism and authenticity required not only for the film to be good but for the subject matter to feel deserving of dramatization as opposed to ending up as mere sensationalism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although Dennis Lehane is quite a talented author I find much of his work suffers from long passages of prose which ultimately prove to be purely masturbatory and do nothing to enhance the novel. If you're going to do that sort of thing you better be darn good at it but a lot of his work ends up coming off as sub-Elmore Leonard. On the other hand he can boast a brilliant sense of character, setting, pace, and the ability to write stunningly realistic and involving dialogue. One doesn't need to look past his episodes for television masterwork "The Wire" to see this. All that's needed to adapt one of his novels well for the screen is a talented, intelligent screenwriter and as much as "Mystic River" was praised to the high heavens, and as much as I love Clint Eastwood's work as director, "Mystic River" was simply a flat, bland screenplay filled with flat, bland characters which was adapted from a novel with nothing but involving, interesting characters. Do Ben Affleck and Aaron Stockard succeed in not only staying true to the novel in style and sensibility, but bringing the characters, the dialogue, the sense of authenticity to the screen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, they do. This screenplay is a triumph. It's about as good as it possibly could have been, and considering the subject matter and all that could have gone wrong, how much of it could have felt sensationalist, how the twists and turns in the tale could have felt like a cheap soap opera rather than proper drama, it's just an incredibly intelligent and tasteful script. Similarly Ben Affleck's debut effort as director (er... not counting a certain short from the early 90's...) is quite excellent, showing not only the quality handling of actors which you might expect from an actor-turned-director, but a wonderful ability to use shots to their full effect, a real sense of position and narrative place, a real sort of naturalistic style. There's one wide, far-away shot late in the film, coming after an especially claustrophobic scene, which is just beautifully-shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Kinzie/Gennaro novels are Lehane's attempt at hardboiled genre fiction. They usually contain more humor, more self-conscious style, and more general light-heartedness than "Gone Baby Gone" did. Lehane successfully created a hardboiled crime novel which dealt with very touchy subject matter (an investigation into the potential abduction/molestation of a child) but never felt like a genre piece unworthy of its subject matter. It never felt sensationalist, and being Ben Affleck's favorite novel it's not all that surprising that he manages to bring the same sort of sensibility to the film version of the story- it's both a tremendously effective genre piece and a powerful piece of drama. This is genuinely good, exceptionally well-acted stuff, featuring one of two excellent Casey Affleck performances from 2007.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-8738752496645508873?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/8738752496645508873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=8738752496645508873' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/8738752496645508873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/8738752496645508873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2008/11/gone-baby-gone-2007-ben-affleck.html' title='Gone Baby Gone (2007, Ben Affleck)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-6078174660203158151</id><published>2008-11-03T15:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T15:25:32.399-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quarantine (2008, John Erick Dowdle)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_1082868_00d1704c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 444px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_1082868_00d1704c.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Quarantine" is a remake of the Spanish film "Rec", which has gained a large cult following and even plenty of critical appreciation. I unfortunately was busy during "Rec"'s only screening in my city so I went into "Quarantine" without being able to compare it to the original film. I imagine the original film is fairly similar, given that the film is shot from the perspective of a news crew, but the acting and writing may very well be quite different, and perhaps better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose it would be incorrect to call "Quarantine" a zombie movie, as the 'zombies' are still technically alive, but considering what the 'zombies' do in the movie they are still basically zombies. They bite, they groan, and do other zombie-like things. The movie opens with a news crew shooting a special on the local fire department. Late that night the department gets a call, they respond, the news crew and the firemen enter the building where there is some rabies-like disease spreading and end up trapped in there, 'quarantined' if you will. The first few scenes at the fire department have already been compared to the similarly uneventful opening scenes in "Cloverfield", but Drew Goddard's script for that film was far, far superior to this one, which is packed with stilted, unrealistic dialogue. Of course, people complained about the characters in "Cloverfield" being annoying, because they could have been real people, they talked like real people, and were annoying like most real people are, so I imagine those people will be pleased that we get CHARACTERS here. Yep, CHARACTERS defined by the character outlines. Simply not very good writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that said, the first stages of the film are actually quite engaging and suspenseful, and the development of the events at the quarantined building is very intriguing, and the first few kills are pretty surprising and fun. Of course, the camera does shake quite often in "Quarantine", but other than the last half hour which sees the movie degenerate from suspenseful horror thriller to what a faithful "House of the Dead" movie might have looked like (it literally largely consists of zombies randomly appearing in front of the camera, and at one point I instinctively pressed on my coke bottle; I must have been subconsciously reminded of the experience of playing that game at arcades), with all the motion you can expect from that sort of perspective, the camera is relatively un-shaky compared to "Blair Witch" or "Cloverfield". The most relevant comparison is to "Diary of the Dead" (both zombie movies shot this way), and there's really no question that "Quarantine" is superior in almost every way imaginable to Romero's latest (disappointing) effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Quarantine" gets off to a reasonable start, picks up some real momentum, then turns into a live action video game, and as everyone knows it's no fun watching others playing a video game, and the lead actress' histrionics get quite aggravating. The movie on the whole is short enough to be harmless and entertaining, but given the quality of the concept and the middle section of the film, I'm disappointed that the director and writers missed the chance to make this a genuinely chilling and claustrophobic film, and it really ends up being more an action film than a horror film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and there's an absolutely shameful ripoff of the greatest 'jump' moment of all time from Robert Wise's 1963 film "The Haunting".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-6078174660203158151?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6078174660203158151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=6078174660203158151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/6078174660203158151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/6078174660203158151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2008/11/quarantine-2008-john-erick-dowdle.html' title='Quarantine (2008, John Erick Dowdle)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-8879391452105847792</id><published>2008-10-29T10:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T10:23:40.007-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dark Glow of the Mountains (1984, Werner Herzog)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 198px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/5.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The Dark Glow of the Mountains", available on DVD in a collection of some of Herzog's lesser-known documentaries and shorts, is an uneven but fascinating doc, and while it is perhaps not as good as it could have been given how it features the great mountain climber Reinhold Messner, who climbed all 14 8000 meter peaks between 1970 and 1986, and was the first to climb Mt. Everest without oxygen tanks (he used small oxygen bottles, but repeated the ascent in 1980 on a tougher route without any oxygen whatsoever), it is still a fascinating and unique sort of documentary, examining the psychology it takes to get people interested in doing this sort of thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a Herzog doc so you can expect two things right off the bat: some stunning images and some inane contrivances. Herzog made a couple of documentaries where he didn't feature such contrivances, but this is not one of them. Essentially he sets up a conversation with the subject and asks about something he thinks affected their psychology then gets the reaction from them. This may be a standard documentary technique, but Herzog most certainly scripts many of these scenes in his movies, or possibly just tells the subject what to say. It's obvious and distracting and unnecessary, as the movie itself does nothing but discuss the exact same things discussed in that conversation here, but still Herzog feels compelled to include this scene to make things ultra-obvious for the audience. For a director so often seen as an art-house favorite he sure seems like he's pandering sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In spite of that one big flaw, this is an excellently-shot and structured film, and one which provides some insight into Messner's character and psychology. It's interesting and fairly short, but I can't help feel that Herzog didn't accomplish as much as he should have done here. Still a fascinating and completely unique document.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-8879391452105847792?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/8879391452105847792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=8879391452105847792' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/8879391452105847792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/8879391452105847792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2008/10/dark-glow-of-mountains-1984-werner.html' title='The Dark Glow of the Mountains (1984, Werner Herzog)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-7723502965186830381</id><published>2008-10-29T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T10:18:03.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>From Russia with Love (1963, Terence Young)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_57076_6f8038bb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 453px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_57076_6f8038bb.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;"From Russia with Love" really grows on you. I didn't like it the first time I saw it, only tolerated it on my second viewing, but since have enjoyed it thoroughly on all subsequent viewings. Although I'm a bigger fan of "Dr. No" I think than many others, "From Russia with Love" is a better overall effort, mostly thanks to the sharp and witty script. This movie is funny, charming, sexy, thrilling, and fairly well-plotted, although I don't particularly care for the way it was wrapped up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean Connery is a great Bond, that's not even in question, but it's so striking how especially good he is in these first two films. There's a real enthusiasm here and it feels like more than just professionalism. Likewise, Terrence Young directs the film very well, as he did with several other Bond features. The film moves at a fast pace and is never remotely boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think what's impressive and different about "From Russia with Love" is that it features Bond as a spy rather than an action hero. Sure, the action here is spectacular but it's not the main focus of the film, and although Bond is not a realistic character as far as espionage fiction goes, I find the more humble and simple entries in the series to often be better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"From Russia with Love" is the first Bond film scored by John Barry. No further comment is necessary, as Barry's Bond scores are consistently brilliant and are simply legendary, and it goes without saying that this is a major improvement over the "Dr. No" score by Monty Norman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"From Russia with Love" is certainly one of the better Bond entries, and one that is a more focused and complete entry than most of these films. It has some problems, sure, but it's still one of the better entries even if it began the tradition of veering away from Fleming's Bond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-7723502965186830381?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7723502965186830381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=7723502965186830381' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/7723502965186830381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/7723502965186830381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2008/10/from-russia-with-love-1963-terence.html' title='From Russia with Love (1963, Terence Young)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-4903982580995875053</id><published>2008-10-27T09:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T09:34:36.927-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleuth (2007, Kenneth Branagh)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_857265_545de985.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 427px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_857265_545de985.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Calling this film a 'remake' is not only misleading, but also incorrect. Harold Pinter had never seen Anthony Shaffer's play performed or seen the classic 1972 film version directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz, starring Caine and Laurence Olivier and penned by Shaffer himself. The 1972 version of "Sleuth" is an epic, 138 minute long battle of wits and egos, and is generally pretty much flawless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2007's 86 minute long "Sleuth" is about as different as could be. Pinter wrote this script from scratch, using Shaffer's original stage script as the basis for it, and this is obvious right from the beginning. Anthony Shaffer was an immensely talented thriller writer ("Sleuth" was one of three truly great screenplays he wrote, the other two obvious standouts being "The Wicker Man" and Hitchcock's "Frenzy"), but other than using interesting subtexts, he was not exactly an intellectual writer. Pinter, on the other hand, is precisely that- an intellectual. Pinter does not write thrillers with subtext, he writes material driven almost entirely by thematic content which loosely fall in certain genres. What Pinter has done here is taken Shaffer's clever battle of wits and turned it upside down, making the dark subtext of battling male egos and perhaps even fetishism the main driving force of the film. This is a darker, more intellectual "Sleuth", one far colder than Shaffer's vision. It is distinctly Pinter's work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The film is most interesting visually in the first half, where we are introduced to this cold, hi-tech version of the old country house we remember from the first film. The art decoration and set design in this film are simply fabulous and suit Pinter's vision perfectly. We see several shots through Wyke's surveillance equipment, establishing his cold, distant view of the world, alone in his large, empty residence. After the opening act, the film occasionally seems awkwardly-shot and I do have to question the use of the 2.35:1 screen format. It worked in the original film but this version seems to be going for a more depressing, claustrophobic feel and the width works against it, particularly as closeups become more common towards the end of the film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no major qualms with Pinter's variation on Shaffer's play, but it is by no means superior. This concise and to the point version is much darker and more mean-spirited than the original play was. It starts at ugly and just gets uglier from there. Some may consider this a comedy, but there is little humor here, and the script is not too concerned with coming off as witty and dives straight into the battle of egos part, substituting ugly, straightforward insults for the witty degradation Shaffer's version had. Michael Caine and Jude Law are both excellent here, but neither are as inspired as Olivier and Caine were in the 1972 version.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mentioned earlier that this was a darker, more intellectual "Sleuth". That is certainly true, but that does not mean that it is a better "Sleuth". This film is much more flawed than the previous film version was, and though it is a good, interesting, and different take on Shaffer's play, it doesn't measure up to the the 1972 film. On its own, as a standalone film, it is quite good, though not among 2007's best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-4903982580995875053?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4903982580995875053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=4903982580995875053' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/4903982580995875053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/4903982580995875053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2008/10/sleuth-2007-kenneth-branagh.html' title='Sleuth (2007, Kenneth Branagh)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-2642132705367783553</id><published>2008-10-27T09:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T20:39:52.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This Man Must Die/Que la bête meure (1969, Claude Chabrol)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i00.twenga.com/v/13/48/11348vb.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 290px;" src="http://i00.twenga.com/v/13/48/11348vb.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Following a number of fairly mediocre efforts from the early to late sixties, Chabrol got right back on track with the excellent "Le Biches", and followed that film with "Que la bête meure", an intensely involving revenge drama with the emphasis on psychology and character over action and violence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The film opens like any revenge thriller would (albeit probably better-shot and acted than most of them), with a child being killed in a hit and run and his father vowing to track down and kill the perpetrator. The tale slowly becomes more and more psychological, however, and ends up being a variation on a Greek tragedy, as others have noted. Chabrol is rarely content with following the expected routine (when he is his films can be dismal), and "Que la bête meure" is far from routine, as we end up spending more than an hour with the all the main characters in place and even together most of the time. The script is carefully written to avoid plot issues (outside of the contrived and silly first clue the main character gets, I can't think of any major issues I had with the script), and the dialogue is as deliberately orchestrated as Chabrol's direction is, building the suspense and drama gradually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the nearly continuous camera motion in "Les Biches", Chabrol takes a different approach to this film. It's less stylized and more natural, with the shot composition never feeling contrived as it sometimes did in Chabrol's immediately preceding effort, although there is some very good and very deliberate work around when we first meet the villain. Chabrol also uses close-ups to great effect, particularly in the scene late in the film with Paul and Charles on a sail boat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is striking about "Que la bête meure" is that while it deliberately builds suspense it also refuses to work as a thriller, and this is most clearly seen towards the end of the film when we get the standard twists but they're so subtle and low-key that one barely pays attention to them. The plot doesn't really matter here, the film is about much more, about the moral implications of revenge, about the nature of man, and it does well to apply these preoccupations to its characters so that we are never far removed from the emotions they are going through, in particular the main character Charles, played by Michel Duchaussoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a string of disappointing features the last two years of the sixties saw two strong efforts from Claude Chabrol which helped keep him as relevant to cinema as he is. "Que la bête meure" is not a perfect film, and it may not even necessarily be a great film (although I think it qualifies), but it is engaging and enjoyable and far from empty. It leaves one thinking about it well after it has finished playing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-2642132705367783553?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2642132705367783553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=2642132705367783553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/2642132705367783553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/2642132705367783553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-man-must-dieque-la-bte-meure-1969.html' title='This Man Must Die/Que la bête meure (1969, Claude Chabrol)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-4073626007932228711</id><published>2008-10-26T22:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T22:12:01.092-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sinister Urge (1960, Ed Wood)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_55452_1b30a152.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 442px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_55452_1b30a152.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;"The Sinister Urge" is proof if any was ever needed that Ed Wood was a completely and utterly inept writer and director. He does, of course, have a surprising number of fans who actually like some of his work ("Bride of the Monster", I have to admit, isn't really all that bad of a film), but "The Sinister Urge" is so chock-full of Ed Wood clichés (redundant dialogue, amazingly bad acting, and taking hypocritical preaching to a whole new level are but few of the features of this film).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've seen "The Sinister Urge" several times in its "Mystery Science Theater 3000" version, which features some of the funniest and most seemingly random riffs in the history of that show- one scene features Mike and the bots breaking into song... but I won't spoil that for you. Tonight I watched this film without their aid and it is a prime example of complete cinematic incompetence. From start to finish the script is unbelievably bad, not even in an earnest "Plan 9" sort of way- there's only the occasional laugh here, unless you can find humor in something so pathetically horrid. Similarly, Wood is incapable of even a second of flair in his direction of the film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are people in this world who will tell you with a straight face that this is a fine film, an indictment of the seedy world of pornography (oh let's face it, compared to what we have going now, the porn industry in 1960 was one big huge convent). These people are absolutely, unequivocally NUTS. One only has too look at Wood's filmography to see that he had already written several smut films, including notorious early nudie Western "Revenge of the Virgins", prior to this film's release.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The Sinister Urge" is one of the most boring, plodding, miserable excuses for a film in all of cinema. I'm not a big fan of picking on Ed Wood, to be honest, but this is proof (along with the many other films of his that aren't widely known) that Wood is an astoundingly incompetent director.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-4073626007932228711?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4073626007932228711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=4073626007932228711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/4073626007932228711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/4073626007932228711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2008/10/sinister-urge-1960-ed-wood.html' title='The Sinister Urge (1960, Ed Wood)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-1185658795450682873</id><published>2008-10-26T21:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T21:44:05.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Old Dark House (1932, James Whale)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_23293_2fce433f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 448px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_23293_2fce433f.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I recently wrote a mock review of Ben Stiller's "Tropic Thunder" (a film I did not like) in which I facetiously said that "I have just seen a movie that's so awesome it raises awesomeness to a whole new level then proceeds to be so awesome that it raises awesomeness from that new level to another new level of awesomeness and proceeds to do this until I found myself in awesome heaven.".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I'd use that in an actual review, but it fits this comedy/horror masterpiece from James Whale too well for me to miss the opportunity. "The Old Dark House" is perhaps the one film which I can watch over and over and over again and not tire of, the one film which suits all my moods, and it is a film which hits the right notes for 72 minutes and doesn't miss a beat. It's perfect. Absolutely perfect at doing what it wants to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The plot (based on J.B. Priestley's debut novel "Benighted) has a cast of diverse and quirky characters descend on a very creepy, very old, very dark house in order to escape the storm raging outside. Inside they meet the family that occupies the house and many laughs and scares follow. That's all you should know before seeing this, because it's too much fun when you learn of the house's secret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only are these characters brilliant, but the cast is an absolute dream! You're saying I can watch Ernest Thesinger, Charles Laughton, Melvyn Douglas, AND Boris Karloff in the same movie? Not just any movie, either, but a James Whale 'old dark house' movie? My life is complete. I've always loved this movie, but I've tried pretending it's not a truly great film for too long. It is! It's a masterpiece from start to finish, a brilliant comedy of manners, an atmospheric and spooky tribute to the 'old dark house' genre (of which "The Bat Whispers" is another favorite), and a film that is so expertly photographed by Arthur Edeson ("The Maltese Falcon", "Casablanca", that is so brilliantly directed by the legendary James Whale, that is such a riot throughout that I find it hard to believe that anyone could possibly dislike this film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Expect a pure horror film and you might be disappointed. I expect that is the reason this isn't as popular as some other Universal horror features. "The Old Dark House" is, to me at least, the best film of the lot, and is just such an uproariously hilarious comedy and such a brilliantly self-referential tribute to the genre that I simply must count it as one of precious few films that I consider perfect. A real favorite, and boy is Ernest Thesinger beyond brilliant here or what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-1185658795450682873?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/1185658795450682873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=1185658795450682873' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/1185658795450682873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/1185658795450682873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2008/10/old-dark-house-1932-james-whale.html' title='The Old Dark House (1932, James Whale)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-1106500363329468820</id><published>2008-10-26T16:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T18:05:37.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dracula (1931, Tod Browning)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_37121_0021814_c093d6ad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 463px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_37121_0021814_c093d6ad.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a fan of the Dracula story and mythology, find Stoker's "Dracula" a memorable and eerie work, and directed and wrote stage productions based on the Hamilton Deane play from the 1920's (altered by Balderston for the 1927 New York run, in which Lugosi first played Dracula) in high school and university, and as you may have already guessed I have few if any issues with the script for the film (it is certainly not in any way faithful to Stoker's novel outside of the very basic plot, however, but that does not affect its quality in my opinion).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes "Dracula" a mildly interesting diversion as opposed to the classic it could have become is Browning's awkward and stiff direction in his second talkie. I enjoy many films by Browning and "West of Zanzibar" is nearly a masterpiece, but his work here is transparent and uninspired. Simply comparing this film to the Spanish-language proves how flat it is and how much it lacks cohesion due to the terrible editing. George Melford's direction in the Spanish-language version, shot on the same sets and released in the same year, is so superior to Browning's work that you begin to wonder why Universal didn't switch directors once they saw footage Browning shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the Spanish-language version doesn't feature, however, is Bela Lugosi. It does star Carlos Villar as Conde Drácula, though, and the less said about that monstrosity of a performance the better. Lugosi is still quite possibly the definitive Dracula, and so many moments here capture him in all his glory. "Dracula" is worth seeing not simply because it is a film with an important legacy but merely for Lugosi's take on the Count. He really is superb here. Dwight Frye's Renfield is also excellent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dracula" is far from a perfect film. It's also pretty far from being the sort of classic many claim it is. It really is nothing more than a middling, average filming of a great play with a great lead performance. Thankfully the script and acting save this film from the inexplicable ineptitude of Browning's work here, and the sheer lack of cohesion in the flow of the film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-1106500363329468820?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/1106500363329468820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=1106500363329468820' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/1106500363329468820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/1106500363329468820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2008/10/lugosis-great-movie-isnt-i-am-fan-of.html' title='Dracula (1931, Tod Browning)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-3986313383084712627</id><published>2008-10-26T14:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T20:06:25.569-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blue Collar (1978, Paul Schrader)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/Richard-Pryor-Blue_l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/Richard-Pryor-Blue_l.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Blue Collar" opens with a masterful title sequence which introduces us, quickly and effectively, to the harsh world our characters reside in and to the nature of the conditions in the factory they work in. The opening sequence is set to Jack Nitzsche's "Hard Workin' Man", introducing blues music to us right off the bat, music that not only makes up basically all of the music in this film but can be seen as a motif or even a character in the film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing how confident and mature Paul Schrader is as a director at this point. Of course, Schrader had already written the massively acclaimed "Taxi Driver" by 1978, but contrary to what one might expect it's his confident and sure handling of the pace and mood in "Blue Collar" that is truly the highlight of the film, not the screenplay penned by Paul and Leonard Schrader, granted the screenplay is in itself quite terrific. Schrader is already a mature director who understands the rhythm of a film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going back to the use of music in this film, it isn't so much the score itself by Jack Nitzsche (which is, don't get me wrong, solid blues) that's impressive, it's Schrader's handling of the music and sound in general in this film that makes it work so well. First off, the choice to go with a blues score is inspired in itself, as the nature of the music so perfectly captures what these characters are going through. In addition, the score is most noticeable during scenes where the film appears to be commenting on the futility of the characters' struggle and the misery of what they're going through. Where many films would use music to 'enhance' big, dramatic scenes, Schrader's "Blue Collar" makes the wise decision to use it during low-key scenes. There are several scenes that don't feature any music at all, these being some of the more important scenes. Note the scene where Smokey gets trapped in the paint room, absolutely no music, just the cold sound of the machinery (expertly mixed, might I add), which is far creepier and more effective than any score could be at that point. Similar use of sound occurs a few minutes before the end when Harvey Keitel's character Jerry is being chased.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The acting here is uniformly superb with Keitel possibly giving his best performance (or at least one of them), and Richard Pryor offering what must be recognized as one of the finest performances of the 70's by anyone. Really, who knew Pryor had this sort of skill when it comes to dramatic acting? Yapphet Koto, a beloved character actor, does a fine job in rounding out the cast for the main three characters. Again, Schrader must be credited for directing his actors so well. It's well-known, of course, that the three leads hated each other and actually broke out in fistfights between takes on occasion. Perhaps that created a sort of demented chemistry between them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The screenplay by Schrader and Schrader (Paul and Leonard) is a fine, fine piece of writing, sort of the daytime factory-worker version of the crude-yet-poetic "Taxi Driver" screenplay. Oddly enough, it's also the source of the few major flaws in this film, as it can come across as fairly heavy-handed in certain scenes. If there's one thing I'd definitely do differently with this film, it's the final shot, which would have been terrific had this been a comedy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, a great film in its own right and especially impressive as a directorial debut from Schrader. Very memorable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-3986313383084712627?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3986313383084712627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=3986313383084712627' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/3986313383084712627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/3986313383084712627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2008/10/blue-collar-1978-paul-schrader.html' title='Blue Collar (1978, Paul Schrader)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-2513582725893436247</id><published>2008-10-26T14:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T18:05:52.881-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ben-Hur: A Tale of The Christ (1925, Fred Niblo)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_16641_f58d524f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 398px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_16641_f58d524f.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This much lesser-known version of the Ben-Hur story from 1925 was the most expensive silent film ever made and benefits greatly from MGM's ability at the time to make films that looked amazingly grand and epic and still somehow manage to today. Even after seeing William Wyler's 1959 version and even with the advancements of modern CGI, the 83 year old "Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ" still looks unbelievably impressive with its massive sets and thousands of extras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mythos that has surrounded "Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ" among film buffs over the years has reached a status almost as grand as the film itself. The deaths, bribes, and other stories surrounding the movie and in particular the famous chariot race sequence do nothing to detract from the film (although they do distract one from it) but instead increase one's fascination with the production. I'm not sure if there are any comprehensive books written on the film but I must seek one out eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story doesn't need to be discussed because everyone knows it. It's an entertaining story that's really quite hard to do wrong and this movie is more entertaining and exciting than any other version I've seen. The theatricality demanded from silent film enhances the nature and feel of the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This film was directed by Fred Niblo, famous for the Douglas Fairbanks vehicles "The Mark of Zorro" and the inferior "The Three Musketeers" and also director of several memorable silent films such as Greta Garbo vehicles "The Temptress" and "The Mysterious Lady" as well as "The Red Lily", an absolutely brilliant film by 1924 standards that is sadly hard to get a hold of (except on Turner Classic Movies which shows it on occasion). Niblo lost his way in the sound era but is on top form here directing this massive production. Of course, the chariot race deserves all its fame and recognition and remains exciting, vibrant, and captivating to this day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The restoration on the DVD released in the four-DVD set released in celebration of the 1959 film is spectacular as usual from the Turner team with the original (and well-chosen) tints and the exceptional Technicolor sequences restored. The film is in the public domain so I expect there must be some form of cheap black &amp;amp; white only copy which I urge anybody reading this to avoid watching. Another reason to watch this restored version is the terrific score by Carl Davis performed by the London Philharmonic orchestra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As good as William Wyler and Charlton Heston are, I'll take this Fred Niblo and Ramon Novarro over the 1959 version any day. A thrilling, captivating silent epic and one of the great silent American films.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Half_Star_Bluesvg-1.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-2513582725893436247?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2513582725893436247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=2513582725893436247' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/2513582725893436247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/2513582725893436247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2008/10/captivating-silent-epic-this-much.html' title='Ben-Hur: A Tale of The Christ (1925, Fred Niblo)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-4122379993017611135</id><published>2008-10-26T14:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T18:00:44.892-07:00</updated><title type='text'>American Graffiti (1973, George Lucas)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_83435_0069704_b4c214f5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 443px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_83435_0069704_b4c214f5.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The first time I saw "American Graffiti" I dismissed it as visually striking but empty. Several viewings later I have come to appreciate it as Lucas' masterpiece and one of the best films of the 1970's, a film with a real sense of maturity and understanding of this phase in life, and one which features so many colorful and interesting characters who all feel real or relevant even today. "American Graffiti" is so much more than just a nostalgia piece, and remains far, far superior to the many movies it inspired, which ARE empty and lack the substance and strength of character this had. Even the acclaimed ones like "Dazed and Confused" are exposed for what they really are when compared to this film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haskell Wexler is credited as a visual consultant on this film, and given that I cannot find any information on the credited cinematographers (who are only credited on one other film) I must assume that he had a lot to do with how this film looks, as it does seem very much like his work. It really is absolutely gorgeous, and given how hard it must have been to light the sets where the film was shot, completely on location, quite a remarkable aesthetic achievement. It's stylized, but not in a manner that makes the film look improbable or unrealistic, and it is one of few American films from the 1970's which consistently looks beautiful, where one can pause the film at any point and find an evocative or beautiful image.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George Lucas was still a good director at this point, of course, and he tells this story remarkably well. I don't think there's anything here that I would have done differently, and it is almost unquestionably his finest achievement as director. Even when you take away all the great shots in this film there's still a rich and well-told story. There have been numerous films like this, chronicling the experiences of a group of seniors just after or just before the end of high school, but none even begins to approach how perceptive and intelligent "American Graffiti" is, and how well it captures the emotions many of us felt at that age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"American Graffiti" is a special film that is unlike any other although it has been copied many times. It is not just great entertainment, it is a film that captures human nature like few others, and one that is as striking on an emotional level as it is on a visual level. A simply outstanding film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-4122379993017611135?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4122379993017611135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=4122379993017611135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/4122379993017611135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/4122379993017611135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2008/10/american-graffiti-1973-george-lucas.html' title='American Graffiti (1973, George Lucas)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-2225031628822817012</id><published>2008-10-26T14:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T17:59:36.571-07:00</updated><title type='text'>24 Hour Party People (2002, Michael Winterbottom)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_121704_0274309_ef9508ee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 430px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/l_121704_0274309_ef9508ee.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would be unfair to dismiss "24 Hour Party People" as a biographical look at Tony Wilson. It's so much more. It's a celebration of music, of a lifestyle, of a bygone era. It also plays like a Greek tragedy, albeit substantially more fun, but there is no shortage of darkness and tragedy in the film. The shifts in tone are particularly remarkable, as the film veers from its usual dry, sardonic tone into real pathos and examination of the dark side of almost any phenomenal success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not completely nuts. I'm not going to claim that "24 Hour Party People" is a visual masterpiece, or a film which achieves more with its characters than most accepted 'masterpieces' of cinema when it comes to depth. I'm not going to argue that it feels as complete an artistic achievement as one of the better films by a cinematic 'master'. Wait, what am I talking about? That's exactly what I'm going to argue. "24 Hour Party People" is as perfect as a film can get, not because it achieves the visual perfection of one of Kubrick's finer films, not because it marks a turning point in cinema history, but because it sets out to be exactly what it ends up being- a hilarious, darkly satirical and yet affectionate look at one of the biggest 'scenes' in music history, some of the best bands, and the man behind it all, Tony Wilson. A minor player in his own life story. This is one of the most purely enjoyable films ever made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all unfolds with a sort of inspired madness. The very first scene shows the charismatic, arrogant, and somewhat self-important Tony Wilson hang-gliding for a television report, then turning to the camera after that's over with and saying "You're going to see a lot more of that sort of thing in the film. I don't want to say too much, don't want to spoil it. I'll just say one word: 'Icarus'. If you get it, great. If you don't, that's fine too. But you should probably read more." It's not only a terrific line, indicative of the sort of dry wit much of the dialogue achieves, but also telling of what the film is going to be like. J.R. Jones of the Chicago Reader was one of the less infatuated major critics with the film (but still gave it a definitely positive review, which should give you some indication of just how well-received this film was by critics), and labeled Coogan's Wilson a a pedantic narrator, describing his story as having little narrative momentum of its own. I like to think that's sort of the point, and Wilson himself makes a point to mention in the film that it's not a film about him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The highlight of the film, arguably even more than Frank Cottrell Boyce's screenplay, is Steve Coogan as Tony Wilson. As everyone reading this probably knows, Coogan based his famed Alan Partridge character on Tony Wilson's career as a television reporter, so he's really playing a variation on Alan Partridge here. What's amazing about Coogan's performance is that he manages to draw even this Partridge fan into Tony Wilson's world so much that I didn't care about any similarity. It's still a stunning comic performance, and excellent during the darker, more serious scenes in the film as well. I'd go as far as saying that it's one of the best male performances of the decade. The rest of the cast is too large to go through one by one, but everyone is excellent here, some going for a sort of slightly altered impersonation of the real-life person they're playing, some creating their own version.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A point of criticism often aimed at "24 Hour Party People" is inaccuracy. The film is gleefully inaccurate, and I fail to see how that's a problem. We didn't need a pedantic, touch-on-all-bases film about Factory Records, because Factory Records would never have made such a movie had they ventured into film production. This is exactly the sort of loose-knit and yet tightly-written film that is needed to capture the energy of the music and the movement. Boyce's screenplay goes through dozens of characters, none of which don't feel real, it's got enough pompous and arrogant philosophizing to turn off even the worst pseudo-intellectual, but it makes it work simply because it's got a sort of self-mocking sense of humor. The points Wilson makes by referencing history and philosophy are valid, but it would be at odds with the sort of film this is if they weren't written with the wry wit the rest of the film is, and if they weren't delivered so wonderfully by Coogan. The film is shot on video, and uses a hand-held style which far from inhibiting the film as it arguably does with some other Winterbottom films, just suits it perfectly. That doesn't mean there aren't some scenes which are explosively extravagant visually, because there are, and they are beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"24 Hour Party People" feels like a complete artistic achievement. It captures the energy of the music, the feel of it, the basis for the movement so well, but also succeeds at providing a well-told summary of the story of Factory Records, the Hacienda, and Tony Wilson. As far as I'm concerned it's one of the most enjoyable films ever made, and one of the most consistently successful. I don't think there's anything here that falls flat, it's all quite brilliant, from the first scene to the final shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-2225031628822817012?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2225031628822817012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=2225031628822817012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/2225031628822817012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/2225031628822817012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2008/10/24-hour-party-people-2002-michael.html' title='24 Hour Party People (2002, Michael Winterbottom)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7390153238672968522.post-3351043730769003026</id><published>2007-11-05T16:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T17:58:54.433-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Alexandria... Why? (1978, Youssef Chahine)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/7_thumbimg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 166px; height: 235px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/7_thumbimg.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;For a director who has been making movies for nearly 60 years, Youssef Chahine is still criminally unknown outside of Arabia and Europe, even in critical circles. The widest release outside of Europe for any of his films was 200 screens in the US for 1997's "Destiny", and only five or six of his films are available on Region 1 DVD. Still, dedicated cinephiles who have studied world cinema will inform you that Chahine is considered one of world cinema's great masters. He has been nominated for no less than seven awards at Cannes, five of them either for the Palme D'Or or its predecessor, the Grand Prize. Chahine won a Lifetime Achievement Award in 1997 at Cannes, as well. He has been awarded numerous other awards over the course of his illustrious career and has made some of the best regarded works in Arabic (specifically Egyptian) cinema. So why hasn't he achieved recognition across the Atlantic? His films are dense, rich, colorful, articulate, controversial, and endlessly fascinating, but they are also difficult. Few Chahine films can be watched and fully understood in one sitting, and even fewer are fully enjoyed on first viewing. Occasionally Chahine's films fall prey to his complex plots and multiple layering, and though it is still a good film, "Alexandria… Why?" is one of his most difficult and muddled films.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;The film, set during World War II tells multiple stories, one being Chahine's own story through the character of Yehia (played excellently by Mohsin Mohieddene), a young man in Egypt with directorial ambitions but the passion to be an actor, who frequently watches the same film repeatedly at his local cinema out of fear that he missed something the first time, performs Shakespeare, struggles with social and familial pressures, falls in love, and pursues his dream of studying acting at the Pasadena Playhouse. This is the film's main story, but subplots include a Jewish-Muslim romance where the female character is pregnant, a homosexual romance between an English soldier and a wealthy Arab, and a wacky, often funny plot featuring a group of communists who plan to kidnap Winston Churchill in hopes of ending the war.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Though certainly not Chahine's first controversial film (his masterpiece "Cairo Station" was banned for twelve years in Egypt after its first run of screenings in 1958, and understandably so, being a film about a sexually frustrated, handicapped fetishist), "Alexandria… Why?" created quite the furor in conservative Islamic Egypt upon first release, it made bold statements on global politics, suggested (truthfully) corruption in Egypt's political structure, supported communism, and featured a homosexual relationship between a British soldier and a wealthy Arab, among other taboos. Chahine designed his script not only to tell the story of himself as a young man, but to tell his story as part of a bigger one, the story of the social and political climate in Alexandria, and the story of what he clearly believes to be incorrectly considered social taboos come to life. This is a brave and challenging film which affected me more than most films I've seen recently, all the more surprising since I thought it was a lacking effort from a director whose films are generally quite brilliant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;The words 'stock footage' have negative connotations in any film fan's mind because it is so often used ineptly, but here the stock footage of WWII used brings the war to life at an appropriate distance and is edited cleverly and realistically into the film, so we never feel that we are watching a cheap production. That said, the overall production design on this fairly low-budget film is minimal, but when the film does look expensive in about three or four scenes, the money is used well. Unfortunately Chahine makes some unfortunate mistakes like using footage from "An American in Paris" when that film was released several years after the Second World War ended. The photography is on occasion sloppy, but more than often it is precise and adds a lot to the mood of the film. There is not much of an original score used in the film as Chahine prefers to use a variety of music clips from various sources to suit whatever point the film is at. The music works perfectly with the film, but it so varied I cannot imagine it would make good listening as an album.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Ultimately it is the film's occasional sloppiness that lets it down, as well as Chahine's tendency for complex plotting. This would have been perfect as a two hour film about Chahine as portrayed through the character Yehia, but his desire to comment on more than himself brings the film's quality down. Its script is excessive and often incoherent, and although there are some exceptionally shot scenes like that in which Yehia directs his first theatrical performance, the film on a whole is more remarkable for its ambition, scale, viewpoint, and characters than the end product. It is muddled and messy at times, worth watching but certainly not Chahine's best as sometimes named by critics. Chahine's later films in his autobiographical trilogy, "Egyptian Story" and "Alexandria Again and Forever" are better ways to appreciate Chahine's cinema and the character Yehia, as is his very best, most original, and bravest film "Cairo Station", which I honestly consider one of the great masterpieces of cinema.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 35px; height: 35px;" src="http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l103/adnantz/64px-Full_Star_Bluesvg.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7390153238672968522-3351043730769003026?l=thecinemajournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3351043730769003026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7390153238672968522&amp;postID=3351043730769003026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/3351043730769003026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7390153238672968522/posts/default/3351043730769003026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thecinemajournal.blogspot.com/2007/11/alexandria-why-1978-youssef-chahine.html' title='Alexandria... Why? (1978, Youssef Chahine)'/><author><name>ametaphysicalshark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09185993548340999585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
