Everything is so big, and so American. There are cactus and palm trees everywhere. The streets are so wide, and the sidewalks are made of gravel. There are beautiful blue mountains surrounding the city, which is a little shock of emerald green laying peacefully in the valley of five mountain ranges.
Quails run across the road. A dead javelina slowly bloats on the shoulder of Sunrise Drive near Skyline, and coyotes wait patiently in the hills for nightfall to drag it away.
The sky is clear and blindingly blue, and everyone wears scarves when the temperature dips below sixty degrees Fahrenheit. Everyone smiles and says 'hello,' and if you buy something, they wish you a nice day.
It takes nearly an hour to drive from one end of town to the other, but in the same amount of time you can find yourself in the middle of a saguaro desert or on the top of a pine-covered mountain, or in Mexico.
In town on a Friday night, the low buzz of the ghetto bird can sometimes be ignored, but its spotlight illuminating the darkness around you surely cannot. In the bars, local celebrities belt out rockabilly originals with contorted faces.
It is sunny more than 300 days a year. The trees are green all year long, and the bougainvillea in my mother's back yard is still blooming on Christmas day.
28 December 2007
13 December 2007
The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford
is a really, really, really good movie. It is mesmerizing, meditative, beautiful, captivating... There is a scene early in the film where the James gang robs a train, and the cinematography is so strikingly, brilliantly fantastic that it actually, no hyperbole sent shivers down my spine. I said to myself, "Holy shit, this movie just sent shivers down my spine."
I have not ever seen a movie like this one. Actually. I can think of movies that can compare in terms of the pacing (deliberate, methodical, slow) or subject matter ('existential' as Mark Kermode describes it) or even the way it's shot (painterly, favoring aesthetics over anything else), but there is something more to this -- it's this combination of foreign (ie not American, my apologies for not having a better word for it than that) aesthetics and something uniquely American, both in style and subject.
It is long, but my only quibble is a five minute interlude near the end of the film that I find unnecessary and a bit distracting. The rest of the length is necessary, for the slow, steady build, the full immersion into the atmosphere created, and the increasing tension, which only finds relief as the credits roll -- I didn't realize how tense my entire body had become until "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford" came onto the screen, in solid white block letters, signaling the end of the movie. I took a breath, and suddenly felt like it was the first breath I'd taken in two and a half hours. The movie has no opening credits, no titles whatsoever. It simply begins, slow and steady (like the tortoise...) and does not look back until the whole thing is over and done with.
Certain things stuck with me more than others. The way Jesse's wife reacts when he is shot -- horrified, to be sure, but also somehow rehearsed, and not at all surprised. You get the impression she's gone over the moment countless times, preparing for its inevitable consummation. The moment on the ice when Jesse asks Charles Ford if he ever contemplated suicide, and his motives for every decision thus far and to follow become suddenly clear.
Superb acting (especially by Casey Affleck), fantastically melodramatic score by Nick Cave, and every element of film making expertly executed.
I want to say something about the way movies make us feel, and about how I love that I often feel I can't trust my first impressions of a movie, because they are so often based on emotion, and if a movie makes me feel anything I generally think very highly of it and have trouble immediately recognizing its faults. I love this. I love that I enjoy watching movies so much that even a halfway shitty movie can make me feel like I love it. This movie, by the way, is not halfway shitty, but it is such an emotional, visceral thing that it made me think about what it is that I love so much about movies in general -- which is their amazing, incomparable ability to make us Feel, feel amazing, powerful things, feel love or hate or anger or jealousy or elation or relief or suspense or sorrow. And I love the fact that there are people doing this utterly commercial thing (due to production costs, it simply can't be helped) with no commercial motives whatsoever -- people who can keep their purity of vision and create these amazing masterpieces. And I love any movie that feels like this, like somebody loved it, somebody put everything they have into it, into making it say this perfect, lovely thing better than anybody else has said it. The truth is, I like most movies I see, and the reasons I dislike the movies I dislike almost always come down to either profit vs vision or filmmaking that doesn't challenge the viewer or the filmmakers. I simply will not accept compromise -- life is too short to ever compromise your vision for a few bucks, and the true, the brilliant artists figure this out early, and will fight to the death (figurative death.. death of the piece of art, I mean) to preserve their vision. I will quibble technically about any film, because I enjoy being the critic, but technical complaints do not supersede the love I have for movies that are made with love and with passion.
I love movies, and I love the movie I saw tonight.
I have not ever seen a movie like this one. Actually. I can think of movies that can compare in terms of the pacing (deliberate, methodical, slow) or subject matter ('existential' as Mark Kermode describes it) or even the way it's shot (painterly, favoring aesthetics over anything else), but there is something more to this -- it's this combination of foreign (ie not American, my apologies for not having a better word for it than that) aesthetics and something uniquely American, both in style and subject.
It is long, but my only quibble is a five minute interlude near the end of the film that I find unnecessary and a bit distracting. The rest of the length is necessary, for the slow, steady build, the full immersion into the atmosphere created, and the increasing tension, which only finds relief as the credits roll -- I didn't realize how tense my entire body had become until "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford" came onto the screen, in solid white block letters, signaling the end of the movie. I took a breath, and suddenly felt like it was the first breath I'd taken in two and a half hours. The movie has no opening credits, no titles whatsoever. It simply begins, slow and steady (like the tortoise...) and does not look back until the whole thing is over and done with.
Certain things stuck with me more than others. The way Jesse's wife reacts when he is shot -- horrified, to be sure, but also somehow rehearsed, and not at all surprised. You get the impression she's gone over the moment countless times, preparing for its inevitable consummation. The moment on the ice when Jesse asks Charles Ford if he ever contemplated suicide, and his motives for every decision thus far and to follow become suddenly clear.
Superb acting (especially by Casey Affleck), fantastically melodramatic score by Nick Cave, and every element of film making expertly executed.
I want to say something about the way movies make us feel, and about how I love that I often feel I can't trust my first impressions of a movie, because they are so often based on emotion, and if a movie makes me feel anything I generally think very highly of it and have trouble immediately recognizing its faults. I love this. I love that I enjoy watching movies so much that even a halfway shitty movie can make me feel like I love it. This movie, by the way, is not halfway shitty, but it is such an emotional, visceral thing that it made me think about what it is that I love so much about movies in general -- which is their amazing, incomparable ability to make us Feel, feel amazing, powerful things, feel love or hate or anger or jealousy or elation or relief or suspense or sorrow. And I love the fact that there are people doing this utterly commercial thing (due to production costs, it simply can't be helped) with no commercial motives whatsoever -- people who can keep their purity of vision and create these amazing masterpieces. And I love any movie that feels like this, like somebody loved it, somebody put everything they have into it, into making it say this perfect, lovely thing better than anybody else has said it. The truth is, I like most movies I see, and the reasons I dislike the movies I dislike almost always come down to either profit vs vision or filmmaking that doesn't challenge the viewer or the filmmakers. I simply will not accept compromise -- life is too short to ever compromise your vision for a few bucks, and the true, the brilliant artists figure this out early, and will fight to the death (figurative death.. death of the piece of art, I mean) to preserve their vision. I will quibble technically about any film, because I enjoy being the critic, but technical complaints do not supersede the love I have for movies that are made with love and with passion.
I love movies, and I love the movie I saw tonight.
02 December 2007
Scratch that, reverse it
Ok, last post about Wes Anderson. I promise. I think. I take back what I said about his female characters -- I've just been rewatching Rushmore, and I don't think I was right. The fact is that Anderson tells stories about immature man-children (man-childs?). All his movies center around male characters suffering from acute arrested development. The female characters are treated the way they are because that is how the male characters view them -- they are immature characters, so naturally they will have an immature understanding of women, not as autonomous beings, but as these sort of savior/object of desire/object of frustration individuals. Also, the absence of or failure of the father figures naturally compels the males to seek comfort in a maternal ideal.
Now I sound like all the media texts that used to drive me crazy in college. My point is that I changed my mind. I don't think Wes Anderson is immature or sexist. His characters are.
Now I sound like all the media texts that used to drive me crazy in college. My point is that I changed my mind. I don't think Wes Anderson is immature or sexist. His characters are.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
