Aesthetic Diversity

As a Michael Mann fan I feel that I have a pretty good idea of what a Michael Mann film is supposed to look like. More specifically I know that using the term “film” is rather inaccurate as Mann began shooting digital as far back as 2001 for select moments in Ali and has remained faithful since. While digital has gradually become the standard with most filmmakers jumping through hoops in effort to make their video look like film, Mann has gone another way and embraced what makes digital unique. He loves to shoot in the dark and crank that ISO to the point where you can watch the pixels dance. Even the daylight scenes have a jagged edge to them that really comes out in action scenes. So why do the first few production stills for his new film Blackhat look like this?

Traditionally production stills are shot on the film’s set, under the same lighting conditions as the scene in question and often with the same size lens. The key is to give as accurate a depiction of the film being advertised as possible. Stanley Kubrick even went so far as to strike his stills from the original camera negative. Having now seen the Blackhat trailer (which very much resembles a traditional Michael Mann film) it seems almost as though Universal’s publicity department is trying to hide something.

I guess they could be trying to hide the fact that it’s a Michael Mann film since his last two features (Miami Vice and Public Enemies) didn't really light the world on fire. But what seems more likely is that they are attempting to brand this film as a generic action film. They want to make you think this is a film like any other. But it isn’t. This is a Michael Mann film. Just as he chooses digital video for all the ways in which it is DIFFERENT from film, cinephile audiences go and see a Michael Mann film specifically for all the ways in which it is DIFFERENT from a generic action film. Say no to sameness! Embrace aesthetic diversity!

Friday Quote: Moonstruck

"I love you. Not like they told you love is, and I didn't know this either, but love don't make things nice - it ruins everything. It breaks your heart. It makes things a mess. We aren't here to make things perfect. The snowflakes are perfect. The stars are perfect. Not us. Not us! We are here to ruin ourselves and to break our hearts and love the wrong people and die. The storybooks are bullshit. Now I want you to come upstairs with me and GET IN MY BED!"

Moonstruck (1987)

The Long Day Closes (1992)

Since The Godfather, most period films are shot with warm, amber tones to help romanticize the past. It's a sort of emotional shortcut which has gradually turned into a cliché. At first blush it might seem as though this is what Terence Davies was trying to do with his lushly photographed melodrama, The Long Day Closes. But as you watch the film, one quickly comes to realize that rather than a romantic look back at youth, Davies is instead giving an extremely accurate emotional depiction of his own childhood as he experienced it day by day.

Like a young Candy Darling who would put blue food coloring into his bath water so that it would more closely resemble the technicolor blue he saw every week at the local cinema, young Terence Davies was also cognitively reframing his harsh, working class childhood in cinematic terms. For movie people like them, the theater is not merely a temporary refuge. It's a not just a physical place where you can go for a few hours and everything is all right. For them, cinema is a way of life. It is something that lives inside of them. Things might get rough at times, but a sweeping camera move and yearning pop song is surely just around the corner.

Silly Symphonies - "The Skeleton Dance" (1929)

Happy Fall! I'm one of those obnoxious people who announced "It's the first day of fall!" to everyone I encountered today. I love pumpkin-flavored everything, spooky decorations, and of course my beloved movie list of thrillers and frightfests. I also love watching shorts and music videos that put me in the mood for this time of year, be it "Indian Thriller" or "The Headless Horseman."  One of my absolute favorites to watch is this old beloved cartoon by Walt Disney Productions. It has the distinction of being the first of 75 "Silly Symphonies," a collection of short musical cartoons produced between 1929 and 1939. This cartoon features four skeletons dancing in a graveyard with a macabre sort of glee. It's hard to not tap your feet while watching them dance and twirl. So as we welcome the fall season and look forward to Halloween being ever closer, let's enjoy this little romp in the cemetery! 

Top-5: Filmmaking For Fashion

With New York Fashion Week still fresh in our memory, I decided that now would be a great time to reflect on the interesting work a few renowned directors have done in the service of promoting fashion lines and fragrances.

Even more than a music video, fashion promos are an exercise in pure aesthetics. Unencumbered by narrative, these filmmakers are free to indulge some of their most "out there" and experimental impulses. It's a world where image truly is king and there aren't any pesky screenwriters to get in the way. Established directors get the opportunity to try something new and maverick outsiders get the chance to make paychecks when Hollywood gigs become few and far between. These promos I've listed here are truly, "haute couture". Did I use that term right? Perhaps I should leave the fashion stuff to 'Becca'lise...

Lady Blue Shanghai by David Lynch

Missoni by Kenneth Anger

Blue de Chanel by Martin Scorsese

Miss Dior Cherie by Sofia Coppola

Coco Mademoiselle by Joe Wright

Listening To: The Double Life of Veronique (1991)

In this film about two women living mirrored, distant-yet-connected lives, music was a key ingredient. Both women have a passion for music, and it plays a vital role in their lives and their fates. Composer Zbigniew Preisner created a hauntingly beautiful soundtrack to this unusual and unforgettable film, perfectly setting the tone for unease and wonder. Being a practically lifelong pianist, I tend to focus on the music when watching a film for the first time, and the first thing I did after watching this was track down sheet music to this gorgeous score. I couldn't get enough. The soundtrack is hard to find, but you can listen to individual tracks on YouTube (desktop only, unfortunately). It's well worth looking up if you're looking for something melancholy and lovely to kick off your weekend.

Friday Quote: Anatomy of a Murder

"Twelve people go off into a room: twelve different minds, twelve different hearts, from twelve different walks of life; twelve sets of eyes, ears, shapes, and sizes. And these twelve people are asked to judge another human being as different from them as they are from each other. And in their judgment, they must become of one mind - unanimous. It's one of the miracles of Man's disorganized soul that they can do it, and in most instances, do it right well. God bless juries."

Anatomy of a Murder (1959)

Wonder Boys (2000)

Writing is hard. In film school, my screenwriting professors would assign a certain number of pages to be due the next week. Dear Lord did I sweat those pages! Each sentence was hard fought because each sentence had to be perfect before I could go on. Each word had to be weighed against the words that came before and after. The same goes for writing about film. You don't want to know how long it took me to write a piece this small. Lord knows how long it would take me to write a book!

And my indecisiveness is not limited to my work either. Just ask 'Becca'lise! I cannot make a decision to save my life. I have to weigh all the positives and negatives - and then weigh them again! I will put off making an important decision until there is simply no time left. Many of my most important life decisions have been made while under extreme duress. And you know what? The world is still spinning! Come to think of it, my life is often much more pleasant after the fact. At some point you just have to stop fussing, pull the trigger and live. Otherwise you're not really living, are you?

Rent This: M (1931)

I had the pleasure of revisiting Fritz Lang's M (1931) for the first time in quite a few years. I first saw it when I was in high school, and it kicked off both a fascination for moody German expressionist films (such as Metropolis (1927), The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920), and Nosferatu (1922)) and a great appreciation for actor Peter Lorre. Here Lorre plays a child murderer, who stalks his victims and lures them away with sweets and balloons, all while whistling "In The Hall Of The Mountain King," a strange and memorable little melody. He plays the part as an unsettling man-child of sorts, his big eyes simultaneously drawing sympathy from the audience and utterly repulsing us. Lorre is pitch-perfect here, and the film is ideal for his abilities to intrigue and horrify. The movie is full of shadows, of paranoia, and frequently switches from sound to complete silence. The result is an eerie claustrophobic feeling that pervades the film; it works especially well when Lorre's character is closer and closer to capture, the crowds closing in on him. It's a chilling masterpiece of suspense, and black and white cinematography never looked better. Do yourself a favor and check this one out...you won't soon forget it.

Red River (1948)

By all accounts John Wayne and Montgomery Clift did not get along well on set of Red River. Though allegedly this had to do with their differing political views (likely stemming from the fact that the House Un-American Activities Committee was in full swing by this point), it doesn't take too much digging to find another “dramatic” contrast between these men.

While Wayne had no formal training and had gradually worked his way up from bit player to star, Clift had studied “The Method” as member of The Actor’s Studio and had cut his teeth on the stage. Wayne epitomized the classic, “Show up on time, know your lines, and don’t bump into the furniture” school of acting. Clift (who predated Marlon Brando and James Dean on the screen) was something radically new in the world of film acting. He wanted to understand and feel every moment his character went through. He wanted it to be real.

Viewed in this context, is it too great of a leap to think that perhaps just as “Old West” Dunson was threatened by Matt’s “New West” in the film, “Old Hollywood” Wayne was threatened by “New Hollywood” Clift on the set? When you throw in the fact that this film was released into a world which had only recently started using terms like “teenager” and “juvenile delinquent” to describe its children, things get even more interesting. In a subtle way, this film is the opening salvo in a battle which would eventually be won by the likes of Bonnie and Clyde, The Graduate and Easy Rider.

Friday Quote: Girl, Interrupted

"Crazy isn't being broken, or swallowing a dark secret. It's you, or me, amplified. If you ever told a lie, and enjoyed it. If you ever wished you could be a child, forever. They were not perfect, but they were my friends."

Girl, Interrupted (1999)

Top-5: Surprise Musicals

If you were to buy a David Lynch film on DVD in the early 2000's, odds are pretty good that it wouldn't include chapter stops. Though he has since come to embrace them, Lynch opposed them on the grounds that movies should be experienced as a whole rather than in parts. While I agree with him on that front, sometimes (after you've already seen the film through a first time) you just need a little cinema fix. Sometimes you just need that shock to the system that only moving pictures can provide. 

If you're a longtime reader of this blog, you know that my favorite types of films are the ones that provide a variety of experience. Unlike the people in charge of Warner Brothers' DC Comics movies, I don't want JUST funny or JUST serious. The best films are the ones that can mix it up. One of the best ways to mix things up is by throwing in a musical number when you aren't expecting one. There's really nothing like watching a performer, "do their thing" and do it well. It's a great way to add humor or pathos when things have been too, "one note". Here are five personal favorites for your consideration.

"Cry Me a River" from The Girl Can't Help It

"Put the Blame on Mame" from Gilda

"Let My Baby Ride"from Holy Motors

"Prelude in C-Sharp Minor" from A Day at the Races

"Seems Like Old Times" from Annie Hall

Rent This: The Crucible (1996)

The Salem witch trials of 1692 have long interested me. How could people completely abandon logic and turn on each other like that? I first saw The Crucible many years ago, and I enjoy revisiting it every now and again...it's a well-made and intriguing film about paranoia, hysteria, and mob mentality.  It's chilling how much total chaos was able to reign in this time and place.

Daniel Day-Lewis stars as John Proctor, a morally tormented but ultimately good man, and he acts his butt off as always. Winona Ryder is Abigail Williams, the ringleader of the accusers. She doesn't quite pull off the style of speaking as her co-stars, but nonetheless plays the villain so well you just want to slap her. She has this one speech that's so creepy and well-delivered..."I can make you wish you never saw the sun go down." The entire film does a great job of recreating this world of darkness and suspicion. It feels like a nightmare that could never actually happen, and yet it did. Based on the play by Arthur Miller, this film is faithful to the story and it's like watching a little slice of history. Let's hope we never repeat it.

Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)

Though it was certainly not the best movie of the summer, I am over the moon that Guardians of the Galaxy is the number one earner at the domestic box office for the year. Sure I had some quibbles with structure and the way some of the action was shot, but all of that is trumped by one simple fact - it was so all so wonderfully weird.

When defending the Googie architecture that dominated the mid-century Southern California landscape against some of it's harshest critics, Douglas Haskell astutely pointed out that Googie helps to prepare people for the, "sensible strangeness to come." As someone who grew up in 1980's/1990's So Cal, I could not agree more. Starbursts, sloped roofs, cinder blocks and concrete were everywhere. Perhaps this is why I am now able to appreciate the work of architects like John Lautner, Richard Neutra and Pierre Koenig?

Pop art is the perfect delivery system for weirdness. Thanks to Guardians of the Galaxy, a whole generation is being exposed to absurdist humor, the work of illustrator Chris Foss and the music of David Bowie. The inclusion of Bowie is doubly apt in that from the 70's onward, his particular brand of pop music has also served as a Trojan Horse for the weirdness of Andy Warhol, Lou Reed, Iggy Pop and electronica.

Judging by the fact that an old friend's son has seen this film three times in a theater and that another friend's daughter can be seen on Instagram grooving to the hit soundtrack, I feel pretty confident that the future is going to be a cool and weird place.

Friday Quote: Picnic at Hanging Rock

"Everything begins and ends at the exactly right time and place."

Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975)

Out of Sight (1998)

As many times as I've seen this film, this was the first time I ever really paid attention to that opening image of George Clooney throwing down his tie in frustration. I mean of course I've noticed it before (they even freeze frame on it) but this was the first time I ever really thought about it. An opening image is really important and sets the tone for everything that follows. So why open with this image?

When most people think of Out of Sight, the fist thing they think about is that trunk scene and the sexual chemistry between Clooney and Lopez. Back in 2008, Entertainment Weekly even ranked this as the #1 sexiest movie of all time. With so much palpable sexuality on display, it's easy to miss the frustration and compulsion that truly underscore the film.

If you remember your recent cinema history, this was the film that really turned around the career of Steven Soderbergh. After the initial success of Sex, Lies, and Videotape in 1989, Soderbergh quickly found himself scrambling to gain a real foothold in this industry. Film after film failed to significantly connect with both audiences and critics. Some were even starting to refer to him as a hasbeen. But what was he doing wrong? Mere years before, he was celebrated for his unique vision. Now like Jack Foley applying to work for Ripley, he's suddenly expected to do something else?

That's the kind of frustration that will bring out old habits. The kind of frustration that will make a man to rob a bank after just being released from jail for robbing a bank. It will also cause a filmmaker who is intent on going mainstream to fill his big Hollywood movie with flashbacks, freeze-frames and fantasy sequences. Foley and Soderbergh are both leopards who can't change their spots. It's a self-destructive compulsion that can't be stopped. It's in their nature.

Fortunately Soderbergh was aided and abetted (enabled?) by Clooney's smile and J-Lo's curves - the perfect distractions. This is also how he was able to inject so much formal experimentation into the Ocean's films. Pay no attention to the man behind the pretty people! Perhaps this is why his book was called Getting Away With It? I'm just glad Soderbergh's the type of criminal who never learns his lesson. Here's to recidivism!

How to Throw an Outdoor Movie Party

Farewell, summer! If you're living somewhere that refuses to cool down and get ready for fall (ahem, southern California), there's still time to squeeze in a movie party with your nearest and dearest! This year we held our third annual Summer Outdoor Movie Pool Party and it was a blast. Here are some ways to make yours memorable.

You Will Need:
*A projector and a sheet/screen (you can rent a projector or splurge and buy your own!)

*Comfy seating (blankets, pillows, and lawn chairs work great!)

*Snacks! We like to tie them into our theme...we've actually managed to work a watermelon into our snack table presentation every year. Can you guess the movies?

Watching David Lynch

David Lynch is in the air. Though it’s been nearly a decade since his last film, thanks to the new Twin Peaks box and the upcoming Criterion of Eraserhead, the cinematic zeitgeist seems to be abuzz with all things Lynch. Like many cinema-lovers out there, I took this as an opportunity to re-immerse myself in David Lynch’s filmography, cherry-picking a few favorites here and there. But what began as an exercise in nostalgia, ended up yielding some interesting insights into Lynch’s filmography as a whole.

While watching the glorious new bluray transfer of Fire Walk With Me, I was struck by the scene where poor Laura Palmer is having an emotional experience listening to Julee Cruise in a roadhouse. It felt like déjà vu. Where had I seen this before? The music, the lighting and the setting were all so damn familiar. And then it came to me...

Having recently re-watched a majority of Twin Peaks the series after the box-set was announced a few months back, my mind instantly leapt to an important night in the life of Laura’s cousin Maddy Ferguson which was also accompanied by a Julee Cruise performance. I’m sure Lynch was merely trying to play up the parallels between the two girls, but having also recently re-watched Blue Velvet at a cemetery screening, I couldn't help but also think of the various moments in that film where a character is observing another singing. And of course who can forget Mulholland Drive’s club Silencio and Rebekah Del Rio’s heart-wrenching rendition of Roy Orbison’s “Crying”? Even as far back as Eraserhead there’s the Woman in the Radiator singing about how, “In heaven everything is fine.”

When films are viewed years apart, parallels often go unnoticed. But when viewed in relatively rapid succession, they are hard to miss. Five instances of something in a director’s work has to constitute a recurring theme, right? But what does it mean?

The cryptic liner notes of the Mulholland Drive DVD ask, “What is felt, realized and gathered at the club Silencio?” Though I have seen the film more than a handful of times, I couldn't really tell you. It’s something I can’t even put into words. It’s something abstract, something you just have to feel. Like going to an opera when you don’t speak Italian, the emotions are just so intense that you can’t help but be moved. We can assume that Betty and Rita don’t speak Spanish, yet they are able to understand and find relevance to their own lives and situations. And isn't that cinema in a nutshell?

Lynch himself described it perfectly in his book, Catching the Big Fish: Meditation, Consciousness, and Creativity: 

People sometimes say that they have trouble understanding a film, but I think they understand much more than they realize. Because we’re all blessed with intuition – we really have the gift of intuiting things…Someone might say, I don’t understand music; but most people experience music emotionally and would agree that music is an abstraction. You don’t need to put music into words right away – you just listen…Cinema is a lot like music. It can be very abstract, but people have a yearning to make intellectual sense of it, to put it right into words. And when they can’t do that, it feels frustrating. But they can come up with an explanation from within, if they just allow it. (Pg. 15 – 19) 

What is any David Lynch film about? That depends on you. Like the scarecrow's brain, the tinman's heart and the cowardly lion's courage - the answer is there inside of us. It's been there all along. In film after film David Lynch is figuratively singing his heart out to us, yearning for connection. He is Julee, Dorothy and Rebekah. We are the audience. Lynch desperately wants us to understand and to feel - but we have to meet him half way. It's up to us to take the key and open the box. But are we ready to deal with what we have inside ourselves?