Um filme que começa avisando que não é uma história de amor no mínimo vai ser interessante: é assim que começa 500 Days of Summer.
Eu chamo de amor indie aquele que é com trilha sonora de bandas esquisitas (ou pouco conhecidas, na verdade) que tem uma edição que comenta e diálogos sacados. Mas depois do filme acho que este tipo de amor (se é que amor pode ter tipo) é na verdade entre estranhos.
O gosto pela estranheza está ligado a viver a vida com uma cabeça mais aberta. Acho que é uma coisa que muita gente busca, mas que gera um certo medo. Porque era mais fácil moldar relacionamentos em estruturas sociais mais claras. Hoje em dia há um número de possibilidades que desnorteia o que deve ser um relacionamento moderno.
(To viajando…)
O personagem de Summer é um pouco esta busca por um amor para ser descoberto em um mundo moderno. Ele, no entanto, é a dor-de-cotovelo, o fosso e a volta por cima.
Se for pensar bem, no filme há dois conflitos. Cada personagem com o seu. Mas o filme é um só porque temos apenas o olhar do carinha.
Mas eu estava pensando que a personagem mais bacana é a menina que joga futebol, acho que é irmão do cara. Ela sempre com uma conselheira, pessoa lúcida em pele de criança: “Só porque uma garota gosta de suas bizarrices não quer dizer que é “aquela garota”", ela diz em um momento do filme.
Comecei a imaginar se o olhar do filme fosse o dela. Talvez ficasse mais interessante: sabedoria e falta de experiência misturados.
As referências pops do filme me lembram muito os filmes do Cameron Crow que adoro.
Eu sou uma pessoa bastante cética, não sou muito de acreditar em destino e coisa e tal. Acho que este amor tão avassalador é questão de sorte ou coincidência. Mas respeito bastante quando acontece.
Ah, e quanto a se identificar com algum personagem: eu sou a menina que joga futebol, embora não seja menina, nem jogue futebol.
J’avais été prévenu. Une amie m’avait mise en garde. Tout d’abord, comprenant mon intérêt pour le film et le cinéaste, elle s’était tue, mais la pression était trop forte et elle finit par exposer son ennui et son irritation face à la dernière réalisation de Marco Bellocchio. Et puis, finalement, dans un petit cinéma gardois, deux jours après Noël, nous nous décidâmes à aller nous mesurer à Vincere. A sa grande surprise Miss J. se retrouva en accord avec cette amie qui pourtant ne partage souvent pas les mêmes goûts qu’elle. Elle détesta, honnit cette expérience. Elle l’exprimera avec hargne et talent ci-dessous.
J’ai beaucoup aimé.
Que dis-je, j’ai été renversé par tant de talents et de beauté. Je vais avoir du mal à parler d’une œuvre que j’ai trouvé d’une richesse et d’une esthétique époustouflante. Chaque plan, chaque image est une photo d’une qualité, d’un équilibre, d’une profondeur qui m’a impressionné. Les acteurs sont exceptionnels. La mise en scène est sincère, originale et intensément évocatrice. L’ensemble est une œuvre superbe qui expose les thèmes qui accompagnent Bellocchio depuis les débuts de sa carrière, un manifeste et une analyse de l’Italie d’alors et de l’Italie contemporaine, un opéra mélodramatique plus touchant encore que Madame Butterfly.
Depuis Les Poings dans les poches (1965), Bellocchio, révolté, incisif explore deux thèmes principaux : l’aliénation de l’individu par les institutions sociales, en particulier l’Eglise et les rapports difficiles à la mère, qu’il juge souvent coupable alors qu’elle est sanctifiée par la société, comme par exemple dans la Nourrice (1998) ou Le Sourire de ma Mère (2001). Vincere expose avec maestria les obsessions du réalisateur. Ce film raconte l’histoire d’amour de l’Italie avec le fascisme à travers la déception amoureuse tragique d’Ida Dalser (Giovanna Mezzogiorno) avec Benito Mussolini (Filippo Timi). Aveuglée, elle s’offrira entièrement à lui et à toute cause qu’il souhaite défendre sans comprendre qu’il est plus Narcisse que Romeo. Elle lui donnera son honneur, son argent et un fils (Filippo Timi encore). Cet amour absolu et la volonté de préserver sa pureté en dépit de tout, mène Ida à tout sacrifier, jusqu’à sa famille, jusqu’à sa vie, jusqu’à son fils, qui ne se remettra pas non plus de l’incarcération de sa mère et de l’omniprésence absente de son géniteur.
Le travail des acteurs est remarquable, il est étonnant qu’aucun des deux rôles principaux n’aient été récompensés lors du festival de Cannes d’où le film est reparti bredouille. Giovanna Mezzogiorno incarne avec une telle passion, une telle fougue et une telle rage Ida Dalser qu’il est impossible de l’ignorer. Son talent et sa beauté sont éclatants et rappellent les plus grandes vedettes. L’intensité de son regard fait notamment penser à Romy Schneider dans ses plus beaux rôles. Filippo Timi est impressionnant dans son rôle double du père et du fils, et dans sa caricature de lui-même. Mussolini ou l’homme qui voulait devenir une statue de son vivant, plaisir que Bellocchio lui offrira. La scène d’amour entre Ida et Mussolini est marquante et inconfortable, tant l’abandon et la passion de l’une rencontre la dureté et l’autosatisfaction marmoréenne de l’autre.
Le soin apporté à la lumière est étonnant, on remarque que chaque fois qu’Ida est dans la lumière, Mussolini est dans l’ombre et réciproquement. Ce choix ajouté au lyrisme furieux de la composition musicale de Carlo Crivelli accentue les parallèles évidents à l’opéra et les références à l’expressionisme, en particulier celui du cinéma allemand. Le constant va-et-vient entre l’histoire intime d’Ida Dalser et l’insertion d’images d’archives (discours du Duce, slogans futuristes barrant l’écran, transes collectives, mais aussi extraits du Kid de Chaplin ou d’Octobre, d’Eisenstein) témoigne de la passion, de la folie, des émotions qui traversent alors la Péninsule. Bellocchio, quitte à brutaliser un peu son spectateur, appuie grâce à cette forme choisie la volonté nette de subjugation et de fascination que souhaite tout système fasciste.
C’est peut-être là la partie la plus faible du film car la symbolique utilisée par le réalisateur est parfois lourde : le spectateur comprend vite qu’Ida Dalser est une figure de l’Italie, victime consentante des histrions et bateleurs actuels avides de pouvoir. Il saisit aussi aisément la gêne qu’éprouve Bellocchio devant le culte de la personnalité, l’envie de célébrité et le remplacement de la réflexion et du débat par l’image et l’émotion. Mais ces moments parfois soulignés ou didactiques m’ont semblé faire partie de l’ampleur et de la grandiloquence que l’on attend d’un opéra exposant notre emprisonnement dans une société de spectacle et de séduction, et l’inconfort de la révolte, stupide et sanguinaire si sans nuances, rapidement étouffée par les petites compromissions et les douces lâchetés de tout un chacun.
Reste la beauté d’une femme, sa folie, sa douleur. Son incompréhension que la volonté inaltérable de son amant s’accomplisse tandis que la sienne tout aussi trempée la mène d’exils en camisoles.
J’ai été ému. J’ai été touché. J’espère que vous aussi, vous irez, et vous le serez.
Ida Dalser, the heroine of this Italian film based on real life historical events and directed by the eminent Marco Bellocchio, has unfortunate taste in men. She likes them intense, dramatic, ruthlessly single minded and, it soon turns out, on a fascist dictatorial political mission, dragging their nation into a bellicose, bloody maelstrom. She falls heavily in love with Benito Mussolini at first sight after taking wicked pleasure in witnessing him rouse a crowd to baying fury when, instead of delivering a traditional political speech, he ‘disproves’ religion by challenging God to strike him down within five minutes. The crowd do their best to do the job on behalf of God after the time lapses and he remains intact, but he successfully struts off to other things – why is there never a handy statue of a cathedral around when you need one?
In time, the beautiful Ida and Mussolini embark on a passionate affair. They indeed are both unconditionally in love: with him. She sells almost everything she owns so that he can set up the newspaper that proved so crucial to his political rise, Il Popolo d’Italia. He fathers her son, the only person in this film I could truly sympathise with by its conclusion. He loses interest with Ida rather hastily when she starts to get in his way, amongst other things because he has another wife and her instance on claiming him as her own starts to make him look bad in front of the Church. (It’s never entirely clear in the film if he also married Ida at some point or not: it’s a moot point). Despite his gradual metamorphosis into a brutally terrorising piece of dictatorial work, Ida refuses to let go of her passion for the man she thinks she still knows. The rest of the film shows in great depth just how far she’s prepared to hold on against hope, to the extent that she ends up locked in a mental hospital for her trouble. She would rather hold on to the original narrative she’s pinned to him, which come what may, she will not let go – Mussolini is just testing her, only she understands him, it’s all been a horrible misunderstanding, nothing can stop her, she will never give in. Ever!! She throws pamphlets wildly into the snow from behind steel bars, screams into the night sky. Loses all contact with her son, who ends up in an orphanage and later a mental hospital, too.
This film set Francophone against Anglophone reviewer in quite a major, if bien sûr cordial, way. Monsieur D adored this film. I recall summing it up on exiting the cinema as ‘shit’, and was genuinely surprised that he was surprised. Perhaps on account of being British, or for other reasons less liable to get me into hot water for cultural caricaturising, I rarely take at all well to such undiluted primal emotion backed up by an intense, relentlessly clanging and overdone operatic soundtrack. Except perhaps when I indulge in a little of my own in real life of course, when decades of cultural emotional repression are abruptly undone through temporary fatigue, outright illness or a pre-Christmas metro trip, and my true anguished primal soul bursts through in a thoroughly undignified fashion, only to be disowned at the soonest possible opportunity. But I can’t actually condone revelling in that kind of thing! Can’t recognise it as potentially a thing of beauty! It’s messy, non?!! The film revels in the excesses of unbridled obsession. Luxuriates in it, without the slightest breathing space or attempt to counterbalance. Within three minutes of it starting, I really thought it was time for everyone to calm down and urgently acquire a sense of perspective.
I’d hoped for an interesting, credible and psychologically revelatory exploration of an individual’s descent into insanity, perhaps against her own valiant attempts to fight it, not the protracted, horribly unsubtle sturm und drang of someone’s headlong dash into a life-long tantrum at a failed obsession based on a languid glance across a room. An exploration of the thin folds that separate outright madness from intense but lucid suffering. Instead, the story grinds forth like a steamroller, without deviating for a second from a few basic dynamics of thwarted and flawed desire which are all but abundantly clear within the first few minutes. It makes for one of the most overblown, caricatural, pedantic, grating films I’ve seen for a very long time. Above all it felt like a missed opportunity, with an incredibly over-the-top soundtrack relentlessly thumping out on top of the visuals, failing so consistently to venture into more subtle territory that it can only have been deliberate. The actors toe this operatic line perfectly, which is presumably what they were asked to do, so they cannot particularly be faulted, especially regarding the impressive lead roles elegantly played by Giovanno Mezzogiorno (Ida) and Filippo Timi (Mussolini – both father and son). But all in all there’s far too much heavy-handed symbolism, nay crashing cymbal-ism –, which one can either find bombastically impressive, or thoroughly tiresome, much like Mussolini himself. Statue of a cathedral, anyone?
Menjelang akhir tahun, film laris Laskar Pelangi membuat catatan indah. Film garapan sutradara Riri Riza itu memenangi kategori The Best Picture alias Film Terbaik pada Asia Pacific Film Festival (APFF) ke-53, 16 – 20 Desember 2009, di Kaoshiung, Taiwan. Film yang baru saja merilis sekuelnya, Sang Pemimpi, tersebut menuai prestasi serupa dengan Daun di Atas Bantal 12 tahun lalu.
Setelah Daun di Atas Bantal yang juga membawa Christine Hakim pemain utamanya sebagai Best Actrees. Kategori Best Pictures memang selalu menjadi milik film dari negara lain. “Laskar Pelangi ini menang secara aklamasi yang dipilih oleh dewan juri tanpa perdebatan”, ucap Gope Samtani, ketua delegasi indonesia di APFF di Pusat Perfilman Haji Usmar Ismail (28/12).
Tim juri APFF ke-53 itu terdiri dari Liu Lu Hsing (Taiwan), Jean Pierre Gimenez (Perancis), Sozo Teruoka (Jepang), Kim Ji Seok (Korea), dan Harry Simon (Indonesia). “Buat saya, penghargaan ini adalah bonus ekstra. Kami syuting dengan senang hati, lapang dada, dan penuh kebahagiaan. Laskar Pelangi ini syuting dengan segala keberkahan dan kebahagiaan”, ucap Cut Mini, pemeran Bu Mus, di Laskar Pelangi saat menerima piagam dari APFF bersama Ikranagara, mewakili tim.
Sementara itu, Ikra yang berperan sebagai Pak Harfan mengusulkan agar film yang diproduseri Mira Lesmana tersebut dibawa berkompetisi di lingkungan Hollywood. Terutama di Golden Globe dan Piala Oscar kategori film asing. “saya yakin betul film ini bisa bersaing. Ini bukan sekadar kisah anak-anak, tapi lebih serius”, ujar aktor senior itu.
A few weeks ago, a (you are not) special 10-year anniversary of Fight Club was released. 10 years! What a surprise! I don’t know if that blows your mind like it blows my mind, but that blows my mind!
The thing is,
…a few months ago I read an article making a pretty bold claim. The article suggests that 1984 might be the best year for movies for movie-watchers ever.
While I totally agree that 1984 kicked some ass, (I mean, this guy’s list starts with Steve Martin’s Lonely Guy!) I think a case could be made for another year. I’ve thought…for 10 years now!…that 1999 holds its own for one of the best years of film ever. I’d like to tell you why I think 1999 holds its own (along with 1939, 1967, and 1974) as one of the greatest movie-years ever. My argument in support will be skeletal.[1] Perhaps more support can worked-out in the comments. Hopefully, the list itself will count against the 1984 claim.
Now, supporting the claim (that 1999 is the greatest) is a difficult process. I could go through, like Mr. Nashawaty does, every month of 1999 and show off some delightful releases. I could list wikipedia’s American films of 1999. I could show off the Academy Award nominations for 1999, or Ebert’s Top 10. IMDB’s list of released films of 1999 is cumbersome. Not only does it list films from 1997 and 1998, the list also includes such classics as Blowjob Adventures of Dr. Fellatio part 15 and True Anal Stories 4 and 5! Fortunately for us, those films won’t make the Pratfalls list.
So, here we go.
My top five:
Being John Malkovich Bringing Out the Dead Election The Iron Giant American Beauty/Fight Club (a tie!)
The Rest Which Count (Ones I Haven’t Seen Marked with an Asterisk):
Magnolia Eyes Wide Shut Office Space The Red Violin All About My Mother The Matrix The Sixth Sense The Green Mile Buena Vista Social Club Topsy-Turvy* The Insider Titus Any Given Sunday Blair Witch Project The Limey Boys Don’t Cry Minus Man Angela’s Ashes* Cookie’s Fortune* Ravenous Hurricane Run Lola Run Snow Falling on Cedars Ghost Dog The End of the Affair* Summer of Sam Happy, Texas Sweet and Lowdown Jesus’ Son Dogma The Talented Mr. Ripley Three Kings Twin Falls Idaho Anna and the King* Fantasia 2000 Girl, Interrupted Sleepy Hollow Virgin Suicides South Park: Bigger, Longer, Uncut
and Toy Story 2
My Guilty Pleasures
The 13th Floor American Pie Drop Dead Gorgeous 10 Things I Hate About You Eddie Izzard: Dressed to Kill Muppets from Space Mystery Men
Radiohead’s Meeting People is Easy Varsity Blues
and She’s All That
Look at that list! Just look at it. I would consider someone well-versed in the films of 1999 ahead of the game for knowledge of film in general. I always go to the films of 1999 to introduce kiddos to good cinema. And, I’ve consciously watched in the ten years since 1999 for cinema to match it. I want each subsequent year to compare to 1999, and they never do! To further emphasize my personal commitment to 1999’s greatness, I’ll just note that I have seriously jeopardized friendships because of conversations about American Beauty, Fight Club, the Matrix, Magnolia, Eyes Wide Shut, Blair Witch, and the Green Mile. Assess it as you may, but I’ll count that little personal fact not as highlighting my own aggressiveness to win arguments, but rather highlighting the quality of the films in question.
In 1999 a combination of great directors (new and tenured) released great films. The quality of the films paired with the quantity of competitive releases made 1999 great. So it’s great films, but it’s more than that. The last Kubrick film (Eyes Wide Shut) was released; Woody Allen released (the underestimated) Sweet and Lowdown; Scorsese released (the waaaaay underestimated) Bringing out the Dead; Michael Mann released what some call his best film, the Insider. But 1999 also had phenomenal and promising young filmmakers: Spike Jonze, Brad Bird, Sam Mendes, M. Night Shyamalan, Julie Taymor, and Sophia Copolla (the woman who’s NEVER successfully emoted). It also saw cinema favorites: Spike Lee, Oliver Stone, Frank Darbont, P. T. Anderson, David Fincher, Stephen Soderbergh, David O. Russell, Jim Jarmusch, Mike Leigh, Tim Burton, Kevin Smith, and Robert Altman.[2]
Look back at the 1999 list. Notice the incredible thematic overlap with most of these films. They’re all films about men (who all dress the same) finding the weird and strange world underneath or beyond dead-end jobs. I mean, Fight Club, the Matrix, Office Space, American Beauty, Election, Eyes Wide Shut, Bringing Out the Dead, the Insider, the Sixth Sense, the Green Mile, and Being John Malkovich are all about the same thing! In retrospect, it’s almost too obvious to point out. Here’s a normal world, here’s the underworld. The protagonists and their storylines differ substantially, but each one comes from the same world. The white-collar, 30-something professional world. And for each protagonist, this professional (the “real”) world has left them completely unprepared for the real world (And in the case of She’s All That, the character from The Real World is unprepared for the real world). So the characters panic. Interlocutors could point out the commonality of these themes going back at least to Plato’s Republic; but it’s incredibly interesting how these filmmakers independently (from each other, that is, not from the studios—though, yes, some are independent of the studios) start with the same antecedents. And they’re doing it at the same time.
And it’s strange because there’s a difference in tone with these 1999-ers from immediately before and immediately after. These aren’t the heroic characters of 90s cinema (Braveheart, Schindler’s List, Forrest Gump, Saving Private Ryan, to name a few), and they’re not the revengeful or cold or nihilistic anti-heroes of cinema of the 2000s (There Will Be Blood, No Country For Old Men, Mystic River, Old Boy, even Gladiator). There’s a change, a different kind of cynicism in 2000s film. Even movies in the last decade which use similar frameworks or starting points (Little Children, Michael Clayton, The Departed, Primer, A Beautiful Mind) have a darker feel. The stories from 1999 juggled a hopefulness and cynicism better than subsequent efforts at similar themes. These great filmmakers had this moment of synchronicity in theme and style. That’s pretty remarkable.
And, I’ll admit 1999 had some pretty lousy selections. I’m thinking of the run of Robin Williams movies (like Jakob the Liar and Bicentennial Man), Star Wars: Episode 1, and all that movie-filler which wastes talent by type-casting (or underestima-casting) a decent actor into fad-status (I’m thinking here of Cuba Gooding Jr. in Chill Factor, Michael Caine in Cider House Rules, and Matthew Lillard in Wing Commander, et al.–and yes, I did just call Matthew Lillard a decent actor; did you see She’s All That?).
Assuming, however, that Hollywood, Robin Williams, and George Lucas will always put out terrible films, we can forgive 1999 for including such waste.
Nevertheless, I challenge you to name a better year in movies.
I think, comparing, say, Academy nominations or critic’s lists for a given year, could rule some years right out (2002, anyone?). It may turn out at the end of the day that 1984 really does top 1999 (and 1939 too) for greatest film year. But not without my assertions first!
By the way, if you think I’m just a lowly philosopher with no real cred to rank film years, maybe you want to get my twin brother, the film expert, Galen’s take on the whole shebang. Well, he agrees that 1999 was the best year for film in recent memory. (Raspberries). BUT, he insists I’m wrong with my top five for 1999. HE thinks the top five films of 1999 are:
Galen’s Top Five for 1999:
Bringing out the Dead
Eyes Wide Shut
Titus Run, Lola Run
Magnolia/Being John Malkovich (another tie!)
Pratfalls
[1] It should be noted: Nashawaty doesn’t argue for 1984 either; Nashawaty makes a list–with embedded clips. To argue would be to support a premise with, well, supporting premises. But these types of polemic/counter-polemic discussions rarely demonstrate one point of view to another beyond a reasonable doubt.
[2] Now, I recognize a couple of things. 1. Kevin Smith has never been a great director, but he’s well known and he’s important for independent cinema. That maybe his worst film (Dogma) ended the decade of independent cinema he helped invigorate, rings poetic. 2. I hate Robert Altman. Maybe not the man (but I’m not ruling it out), but definitely his filmmaking. I could write an entire blog about my feelings toward Robert Altman’s films. Nevertheless, people tend to like both Kevin Smith and Robert Altman. So, while the men perpetually disappoint me, they did contribute to 1999’s year of film.
In Part One of this series, we encountered “Hello, Meteor!” – a commercial the Discovery Channel (TDS) made during the 2000 commercial actors strike. ”Hello, Meteor” garnered critical and commercial acclaim. This success spurred TDS on to place more of their office staff in other commercials, including the now classic “Hello, Mosquito!” shown below.
Nesta época natalícia o presente que o Fantasporto tem para oferecer é o anúncio dos filmes seleccionados, tanto a nível de competição, como das diversas retrospectivas e homenagens que vão encher o Rivoli – Teatro Municipal de boas surpresas desde de 22 de Fevereiro e até 7 de Março de 2010.
A 30ª edição do Festival Internacional de Cinema do Porto – Fantasporto 2010 garante assim, de novo, um grande festival com os melhores filmes das áreas do fantástico, asiáticos e de autor, com o regresso ao Porto de realizadores agora consagrados, descobertos e já premiados no festival ao longo dos anos. Fazer reviver o espírito de um percurso de 30 anos de Fantas é também um conceito claro da selecção de filmes para esta nova edição do Fantasporto
Na sessão de abertura oficial do Fantasporto 2010, marcada para o dia 26 de Fevereiro, no Grande Auditório do Rivoli, teremos a estreia de “Solomon Kane”, uma das superproduções do ano. Produzido por Samuel Hadida e dirigido por Michael J. Basset (realizador de “Deathwatch” já exibido no Fantasporto) é inspirado num livro de Robert E. Howard, o criador dos universos de “Sword and Sorcery” como “Krull” e “Red Sonja”. Uma extraordinária aventura num universo de imaginação, onde um herói vende a alma ao Diabo, e como penitência pelos seus pecados tem de salvar o reino de seu pai.
Depois de um universo demoníaco, nada melhor que outra proposta do fantástico, para o encerramento do certame, “The Crazies”. Em 1973 George A. Romero, aterrorizou os espectadores com um dos filmes mais marcantes do cinema de terror “A Noite dos Mortos Vivos”. 40 anos depois, o realizador de “Sahara”, Breck Eisner junta Penélope Cruz e Mathhew McConaughey. Breck Eisner, que nesta altura está a refazer “Flash Gordon”, homenageia como deve ser George Romero e os seus “Zombies”, agora um virus mortal.
A rechear um programa de luxo da Secção Oficial de Cinema Fantástico, e estas são apenas algumas das propostas da competição de cinema fantástico, convém não esquecer a incursão do multipremiado no Fantas, Vincenzo Natali, na clonagem com “Splice”. De volta estarão também Jaume Balagueró e Paco Plaza que retomam a “niña” Medeiros em “Rec 2”. Regresso também de Chan-Wook Park, o nosso “Old Boy” com um dos êxitos do último Festival de Cannes, “Thrist”, no qual um padre se deixa envolver por uma sua paroquiana. Deataque também para a segunda parte de “The Descent” de Jon Harris, o argumentista do êxito do último Fantas que foi “Eden Lake”, onde finalmente se esclarece o mistério que se esconde no mundo subterrâneo.
Na Semana dos Realizadores, sob a égide de Manoel de Oliveira, patrono da Semana, encontramos filmes tão significativos como o Prémio do Júri do Festival de Cinema de Cannes, “Fish Tank” de Andrea Arnold. Uma visao desencantada sobre o mundo sub urbano londrino e os seus estranhos personagens. Do outro lado do atlântico poderemos ver, “Dolan’s Cadillac”, uma história de vingança na fronteira tórrida dos Estados Unidos da América com o México, onde um herói solitário afronta o rei do tráfico de mulheres. De outras latitudes, “The Time That Remains” do conceituado cineasta israelita Elia Suleiman, uma das grandes surpresas da edição 2009 de Cannes.
O Oriente continua a dar cartas no domínio da criatividade em cinema. A selecção deste ano é o espelho dessa variedade temática. Desde a divertida comédia de terror “Vampire Girl Vs Frankenstein Girl” ao drama futurista de “Air Doll” onde uma boneca insuflável ganha vida, para felicidade do seu dono, passando pelo mais recente filme de Shynia Tsukamoto, presente em Veneza – “Tetsuo – The Bullet Man” ou a verdadeira loucura visual que é “Robot Gueisha”.
RETROSPECTIVA CINEMA E ROBÓTICA
O 30º Fantas dedica os seus primeiros dias a uma das áreas mais desconhecidas da produção cinematográfica, aproveitando ainda o facto de Portugal ser um dos países europeus com maior prestígio neste campo, a Robótica. Num programa comissariado pelo Prof. Eduardo Silva, do Laboratório de Sistemas Autónomos do Instituto Superior de Engenharia do Porto e a Sociedade Portuguesa de Robótica, o Fantasporto apresenta uma nova e espectacular visão desta área num cruzamento do Conhecimento e das Artes no qual participarão grandes personalidades sobretudo do Mundo Científico nacional e internacional. Este programa será acompanhado pela exibição de um mini ciclo de cinema e pela amostragem de diversos filmes técnicos, incluindo igualmente mesas redondas, workshops e diversas demonstrações.
WORKSHOP SFX
São 30 anos de Fantas e não podemos ficar por menos. Dois dos maiores especialistas em efeitos especiais, David Marti (Óscar Melhor Caracterização em 2007 por “O Labirinto do Fauno”) e Colin Arthur (“2001 – Odisseia no Espaço”) vêm ao Porto transmitir aos fãs a sua experiência. Dois workshops onde serão revelados as mais recentes técnicas de maquilhagem e de efeitos especiais por dois conhecidos mestres da material. Uma oportunidade única para os jovens criadores de abrirem os horizontes sobre uma das principais componentes do cinema e do fantástico em particular.
HOMENAGEM AO CINEMA FRANCÊS
100 anos de história, o cinema francês tem sido a fonte inspiradora para os mais variados géneros da Sétima Arte. Nos seus 30 anos o Fantasporto homenageia o melhor do cinema francês em vertentes tão diversas como o conto de fadas, a ficção científica, o surreal, a “nouvelle vague” ou o cinema de animação. De Godard a Besson, de Renoir a Resnais, uma panorâmica do grande cinema francês num programa oficial organizado em conjunto com o Consulado de França, Embaixada e Unifrance.
RETROSPECTIVA GALVÃO TELES
O produtor e realizador Luís Galvão Teles é o homenageado português desta edição do Fantasporto. Depois de José Fonseca e Costa no ano passado ou de Fernando Lopes há dois anos, o Fantas 2010 olha o trabalho de um dos mais activos cineastas e produtores portugueses, com uma selecção de filmes da responsabilidade do próprio cineasta. Destacam-se o mítico “A Confederação”, o êxito que foi “Elas” ou o fantástico “Dot.com” não esquecendo o seu “Retrato de Família”.
Muito mais haveria para dizer deste Fantas 30 Anos. Mas esta é, de facto, a nossa prenda de Natal…um cheirinho de um programa que faz do Festival Internacional de Cinema do Porto o “Leading Festival” de Portugal e um dos 20 “maiores festivais do Mundo, segundo a bíblia do showbizz a “Variety”.
Por último uma referência para o Comité de Honra deste evento, presidido por sua Exa o Presidente da República, secundado pelo Exmo Sr. Primeiro Ministro, de entre mais de cinquenta personalidades ligadas à politica, à vida empresarial e amigos, de longa data, do Festival.
Heard of Harry Lime?, originally uploaded by Steve Gray.
This is actually a video still, taken with my 5D MkII. It was captured with a customized high-contrast monochrome picture style, then I heightened the contrast and deepened the black levels in post.
This is a tribute to cinematographer Robert Krasker, who photographed Carol Reed’s inimitable 1949 noir, "The Third Man."
você acha que uma thurman, nicole kidman, brad pitt, adrien brody, scarlett johansson e diversos outros atores de hollywood sempre foram impecavelmente maravilhosos? o blog miss at la playa mostra que não: eles eram pessoas comuns. as fotos são da diretora de casting bonnie timmerman
Just went to see the new film, Avatar. Wonderful special effects, excellent 3-D effect, and very nicely realized fantasy world. It was so long, I found myself saying to myself, “C’mon now, move it along, get to the final fight of the good guys and the bad guys…“ I feel like I’ve seen the story before in westerns and sci-fi movies galore over the years. The bad invader who goes native and switches loyalties – wasn’t that what Dancing with Wolves was all about? The interesting new twist was the incorporation of the eco-green-enviro-religiosity: the innocent forest people in tune with the sacred wellspring of life, a sort of Ygdrasil, the holy tree; the bad earthlings who killed the green part of their world and are willing to destroy this new one, Pandora, for a metal, Unobtainium – I like that comic touch of the name because I’ve been helping my son with chemistry lately! If it had been 60 minutes shorter, I would have enjoyed as a piece of brilliantly done entertainment fluff, but it was soooo pretentious and predictable.
James Cameron has been a filmmaker since 1978, and to this day, if we skip “Piranhas 2″ and start in 1984 with “Terminator”, he has only made six films, counting this one. All of them exceptional. Cameron isn’t into quick jobs. He tackles every project like it’s the most important thing he’ll ever do, and the passion he puts into his movies always shows and ensures that whatever he comes up with will easily make the best efforts of hacks like Michael Bay seem laughable by comparison.
“Avatar” is a fantastic film. It’s flawed — maybe more than any other movie Cameron directed. But it’s also his most ambitious and daring film, and what he and his crew have achieved here warms my heart. Nothing is half-assed about this production. Every inch of it was carefully constructed, and even if it fails to work for you — you’ve got to respect the effort. It’s passionate filmmaking.
Jake Sully (Sam Worthington) is a paraplegic ex-marine whose twin brother, a scientist named Tommy, has died. Tommy was part of a team of scientists on planet Pandora, where the invading humans and a native species called Na’vi are clashing for territorial control — thanks to the former being interested in an extremely valuable mineral the planet possesses. Jake takes his brother’s place as an avatar pilot — avatars are bioengineered versions of the Na’vi, controlled mentally by the scientists to roam around the planet (due to the atmosphere being toxic to humans) and improve relations with the native population.
However, the scientists’ efforts are gradually being replaced by a military approach led by Colonel Quaritch (Stephen Lang), who sees no future in diplomacy with the Na’vi — an opinion shared by corporate little shit Parker Selfridge (Giovanni Ribisi). Together, they convince Jake to report not only to the team of scientists, but to their team well, detailing the infrastructure of the Na’vi land for tactical purposes. But when Jake’s avatar manages to be welcomed by the natives, he falls in love with their culture and their world, and finds himself in a very difficult position.
Which pretty much means that in “Avatar”, Cameron makes the humans the villains, and has the task of making the audience root for the Na’vi instead of our own species. While normally this wouldn’t be a problem for my misanthropic self, Cameron made sure we would cooperate by creating a fictional alien world that is nothing short of magnificent: from the vegetation, to the biology of every creature, to the religion of the Na’vi, every detail of the world has been carefully thought and executed — to call the experience “fascinating” is an euphemism. Even some details that would usually go unnoticed anyway are explained by the film, like in the moment Quaritch mentions the planet’s low gravity — which is, after all, why the Na’vi are ten feet tall and why everything in the planet is huge in comparison to humans, who evolved in higher gravity. Speaking of that, I was happy, in the beginning of the film, to see the interior of an interstellar ship being in zero-g while travelling in space, since the concept of articificial gravity has always been an omnipresent sci-fi movie cliche.
I will avoid describing the details of this world any further — it would be a disservice to whoever hasn’t seen the film yet, and useless to who already has. Part of the beauty here is to be constantly surprised by the creativity of the filmmakers in detailing the planet they’ve created. Okay, just one more, mild thing: even the deity worshipped by the Na’vi receives a vague, but interesting scientific explanation — like a version of the Internet invented by Nature, would be my definition. And this is important so something that happens in the third act sounds plausible to skeptical viewers like myself.
Cameron is less successful with his characters — a few miss the mark, however most work very well. It’s always interested me, the way Cameron makes stereotypes and cliches work for him — some of the characters he’s created throughout his filmography aren’t deep, but strongly characterized: the hysterical Hudson from “Aliens”, the unstable Lt. Coffey from “The Abyss”, the asshole Simon from “True Lies”, the arrogant Caledon Hockley from “Titanic”. In “Avatar”, these stereotypes are used to portray the military and the corporations in a farcical way: while Parker is introduced playing mini-golf in the middle of an operations room, Colonel Quaritch, played by Stephen Lang in a competent, balanced performance, has a simplistic approach to his job, a southern accent and apparently enjoys practicing a few punches while piloting mecha armor (one of the film’s most inspired visual gags, and there are many moments of well-done comic relief throughout the movie).
And while the antagonistic Tsu’tey (Laz Alonso) is a walking cliche, laughing at the protagonist’s efforts to join the Na’vi, and Mo’at (CCH Pounder) is a stereotyped shamanic leader (in this case the stereotype fails), the protagonist himself, Jake, is not only very well interpreted by Sam Worthington but also interestingly developed by Cameron’s script — a good example being the scene when he is delighted to recover the use of his legs through his avatar. As the movie progresses, I started to share his awe and admiration toward the Na’vi culture and their land — which is a vital point, and one Cameron succeeds in brilliantly. And if Norm (Joel Moore) and Max (Dileep Rao) didn’t leave much of an impression on me, Dr. Grace Augustine (Sigourney Weaver) and the pilot Trudy (Michelle Rodriguez) are both compelling in their distinct portrayals of “tough women” that are so typical in Cameron’s films — while Weaver is always excellent, especially working with him, Rodriguez also manages to leave a mark with significantly less screen time. Also I can’t resist noting: goddamn she’s beautiful (and to be fair, so is Weaver, who remains attractive at sixty years of age).
But the heart of the movie is truly Neytiri, played by Zoe Saldana in a brilliant performance that rivals Andy Serkis as Gollum in “Lord Of The Rings”. Always moving with sharp precision yet irresistible grace, Saldana’s expressions are remarkable — from her intimidating scowl to her beautiful, sincere smile. She uses the amazing performance capture technology to its fullest — in fact, she makes that technology her bitch for the entire duration of the film, resulting in a character that feels completely alien and yet beautiful, admirable and fascinating. Completely aware of this, Cameron introduces her with an excellent close-up of her face as she examines the stranger in front of her.
It should come as no surprise that the visual effects in “Avatar” are the greatest achievement in the area I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing in Cinema so far. And it’s not just the magnificent rendering, the detailed performance capture and the amazing eyes of the Na’vi, always full of life unlike most digital creations in other films — the colorful cinematography and unbelievable art direction are vital to create a three-hour-long visual spectacle. Even the animation of the Na’vi’s ears is impressive.
Once again proving his commitment not only as an innovator but also as a filmmaker, Cameron never uses the technology for the sake of using it, instead applying it as a great storytelling tool — resulting in an unforgettable scene that has everything that’s good about “Avatar”: Jake’s first flight on an Ikran. As he and Neytiri fly around floating islands, beautiful landscapes and framed by the colossal planet that decorates Pandora’s sky — all this to James Horner’s excellent soundtrack — I realized I had a wide smile on my face, delighted by what I was seeing.
But “Avatar” is a flawed gem. Its many qualities are not enough to overshadow its problems — aside from some of the weak characters, the narration by Jake — thinly disguised as a videolog — comes off as unecessary most of the time. The movie also loses some of its emotional momentum on the third act, when Cameron allows for excessive dramatic slow motion, and falls victim to some cliches — like a character dying on another’s arms — when it would have been more impactful if he was found already dead.
However, I said it loses emotional momentum — when it comes to action, though, the third act is sublime, featuring a sky battle that is almost impeccably filmed, never leaving any doubt as to what’s happening in it, and competently scored by James Horner as well (except for a few moments when, in typical Horner fashion, the composer overdoes the drama a bit). And the fight between a Na’vi and a human in a mecha suit is not only exceptional, it also reminded me pleasantly of a similar moment in “Aliens” — except I was rooting for the alien this time. Full circle, eh?
Many complained about the film’s “obvious” message, but I don’t see that as a flaw. The message itself is perfectly valid in today’s world — just replace the movie’s fictional mineral with oil. Honestly, would the same message be better under layers and layers of subtlety? No, in this case I think it would only seem more convoluted — Cameron wanted this one to be obvious, and there’s no reason it shouldn’t be. And at least within the film’s universe, the message works. I didn’t want the humans to succeed in their invasion of Pandora because at that point I had already fallen in love with the planet, and the tractors piloted by humans destroying all that amazing vegetation and threatening such an interesting culture were painful to witness.
“Avatar” is a fascinating, beautiful experience. Its main flaws are hard to overlook, but Cameron thinks big, and sets out to bring his vision to life as best as he can.
I went to an alien planet and in the end I was sad I had to leave. I could care fucking less about the flaws. “Avatar” is a resounding success.
OBS: In 3D, I believe the theatre I went to wasn’t properly equipped to handle the film, since the glasses darkened the visuals immensely, ruining the cinematography. I could tell, however, that the 3D is properly used, never trying to call attention to itself gratuitously (pay attention to that one, Robert Zemeckis). But probably due to the problematic 3D theatre I went to, I found the experience much more beautiful in 2D.
If anything, director Arnaud Desplechin has come up with the perfect French riposte to Wes Anderson’ widely lauded The Royal Tenenbaums with this distinctly unseasonal conte de Noël. More specifically, an eccentric family, with a tortuously complicated history, is reunited for the first time in years by the prospect that one of them is dying from cancer. That said, the comedy here is jet black and pitilessly morbid. Moreover, in Henri Vuillard (marvellously portrayed by Mathieu Amalric), the film has its equivalent of Royal. The third of four children, he has become an unprincipled and belligerent middle-aged drunk. having been banished from the family some time ago by his sister Elizabeth (Anne Consigny), Henri’s relationship with his cold and indifferent mother Junon (Catherine Deneuve) is not much better either.
So, is there any festive cheer to be had here? Not much, even if certain family traditions are well respected – be it the present-giving ceremony in front of the Christmas tree, everyone drowsily watching some mediocre film on the telly, or someone making a drunken prat out of himself at the dinner table. Yes, so far, so like most homes over the festive period. However, on top of the human wrecking ball that is Henri, throw in Elizabeth’s depression, Junon’s illness, a teenager prone to self-harm (Emile Berling), the revelation of long-held affections, a Jewish girlfriend (Emmanuelle Devos), and the shadow still cast by the death of a sibling at a young age, and you soon end up empathising with half of the family as to why they have a weakness for the booze.
In truth, anything this sprawlingly ambitious should really only end up being a convoluted and conceited mess. Fortunately, thanks to both its strong cast (Jean-Paul Roussillon, Melvil Poupaud, and Chiara Mastroianni also feature) and the writing skills of Mr. Desplechin and Emmanuel Bourdieu, the film instead turns out to be quite a convincing exploration of human frailties, the bitter effects of deeply rooted grief, and how familial ties can be so tremendously durable despite it all. Indeed, you soon begin to suspect that only people who love each other greatly can end up being so contemptuously acidic towards each other. It also shows how many of us seem to regress to child-like behaviour whenever we are around our parents and siblings. For example, watch how Henri stops being so damn petulant when he is alone with Faunia.
“Families”, this film seems to cry, “who would want to belong to one?”
Despite demanding your attention for a gargantuan two-and-a-half hour run-time, this remarkably dense film only drags in a few places. Indeed, one of the beautiful attributes of Mr. Desplechin’s work here is how well A Christmas Tale rewards repeat viewing. Like being a guest at a party full of the host’s family members, it can all seem a bit overwhelming the first time around. However, having broken the ice in this manner, you are at less of a disadvantage during future encounters with them. It also acts as a good seasonal companion piece to Olivier Assayas’ contemporaneous Summer Hours!
The Holiday, starring Jude Law, Cameron Diaz, Kate Winslet, Jack Black, and Eli Wallach, among others. It’s interesting to see that Jack Black can be romantic and comical and serious — his game with the movie scores in the video store is fantastic. I love Kate Winslet’s character, because I’ve been there: you keep going back to the person who is completely wrong for you, then one day you wake up and realize you’re better off without him, and you feel completely free — that moment when she cries out with joy and puts her hands up over her head in celebration, I know exactly how that feels. At the same time, I can really identify with Cameron Diaz’s character, because she’s high-strung and organized to a fault just like me. Then, of course, there is Jude Law, who manages to be disgustingly sexy even though he’s a completely typical guy who goes out and gets drunk and sleeps around — but at the same time he’s the completely endearing widower / single father.
I must say, though, my favorite aspect of this movie is Eli Wallach’s character, Arthur Abbott. An adorable little old man who shuffles around on his own and reminisces about the old days when movies were made for the art of it, when acting was great, when actors were multi-talented, when the industry wasn’t so commercialized. “This was some meet-cute!” Ah, love it!
This time of year the question is often asked, “What is the best Christmas movie ever made?” The usual contenders always seem to emerge, of course — “It’s A Wonderful Life,” “A Christmas Story” , yadda yadda etc. etc. Horror fans may suggest either “Black Christmas” or “Silent Night, Deadly Night.” But no less an authority than John Waters has gleefully declared writer-director Lewis Jackson’s 0verlooked 1980 B-movie masterpiece “Christmas Evil” (a.k.a. “You Better Watch Out,” actually Jackson’s original — and preferred — title) to be the absolute best of the bunch, and I’m with him on that all the way. Not so much a straighforward horror film as a black, tragicomic morality tale, this bizarre little flick hits all the right notes and is so self-assured in its absolutely singular bizarreness that you can’t help but sit back in awe as the bleakly absurd spectacle of it all plays out before your eyes.
If you'd seen this with your own two eyes when you were a kid, wouldn't you be scarred for life, too? Especially if the woman in question was your mother?
When little Harry Stradling was a kid, he was the sort of tyke who just couldn’t wait for Christmas. He’d stay up all night, pacing back and forth in his room, hoping to hear Santa landing on the rooftop and sliding down the chimney. Unfortunately, he learned that old Kris Kringle wasn’t real the hard way — one Christmas Eve he thought he heard something downstairs, went to investigate hoping to catch Old St. Nick in the act, and found his dad, dressed in a Santa suit, going down on his mom. He’s never been the same since.
Fast forward about 30 or 40 years and our guy Harry (played by distingusihed Broadway actor Brandon Maggart, who never had much of a career in film, apparently wants nothing to do with this one anymore, and is now best known for being the father of Fiona Apple) is a rather disturbed and intorverted sort, the kind his New York City neighbors should probably keep an eye on — except he’s already keeping an eye on them. Or, more specifically, on their children. He’s making a list and checking it twice, cataloging who’s been naughty and who’s been nice. And this Christmas, he’s finally going to do something about it.
Harry's got it all in his book, right down to the neighbor kids' hygiene habits
Harry works at a toy factory, you see, where he’s recently been promoted from the line up to some low-level management position or other. He misses being down on the factory floor “close to the toys,” as he says, and he’s unimpressed with the executive “suits” he now has to kiss up to. Amidst talk of plant downsizing (quite prescient in 1980) and forcing the workers to give to charity while management does nothing of the sort (again, a disgustingly common enough practive these days but rather novel for its time) at the company holiday party, Harry starts to hatch his master plan in his mind. In short order he procures a van, a bunch of toys, a Santa costume, and some weapons, and he decides to bring back the less-than-jolly St. Nick legends of old to life — the ones where he’s both jolly and vindictive, handing out toys only to those who deserve them, and vengeance to those who don’t.
Harry's getting an idea ---
Soon it’s Christmas Eve, and having blown off his brother’s family for the second holiday in a row (he took a pass on spending Thanksgiving with him, his wife, and their kids, as well), he instead springs into action in his custom (hand)-painted Christmaswagon. Kids at an orphanage get a whole load of goodies. The friendly folks at a large family holiday get-together get a visit where he displays his friendly side (as do they to him). But a yuppie scumbag emerging from a midnight mass service at a church in ritzy part of town gets skewered through the eyeball after declaring that Santa better give him something good because he has “superlative taste” (can’t say I blame Harry for that one), and the guy who suckered Harry into picking up his shift at the factory earlier that night so he could go out drinking with his buddies on Christmas Eve meets his red-suited, white-bearded maker, as well.
Santa Harry
Soon, Harry’s a hunted man, as townsfolk who think he’s acting a little bit weird around their kids take up torches and pitchforks and chase him through the New York/New Jersey streets like a modern-day version of the mob hunting down Frankenstein’s monster. But little do they know Harry has a surefire method of escape that delivers one of the most jaw-droppingly awesome endings in movie history. For some reason it’s hotly debated conclusion that some people just can’t get their heads around, but I’m here to tell you that not only is it absolutely astonishingly perverse it its obvious, albeit surreal, simplicity, it’s literally the only way this story could, or for that matter should, finish up.
DVD Cover for "Christmas Evil" from Synapse Films
Available for years only as a bare-bones release from Troma, in 2006 the good folks at Synapse Films finally issued a bona fide and thoroughly comprehensive “special edition” release of full director’s cut of this twisted gem. Not only does it feature a sparkling new widescreen anamorphic transfer of the film with remastered 2.0 stereo sound that’s an absolutely joy to watch and listen to, but there are two commentaries, one featuring director Lewis Jackson where he gives an awesomely involving account of just how low-budget exploitation films such as this came to fruition in the late 70s/early 80s and all the various pitfalls along the way as it moved from script to screen, but there’s a second commentary track featuring Jackson joined by the film’s most famous fan, the legendary John Waters himself! Needless to say, it’s a riot from start to finish. Also included are a selection of stinging lobby comment cards from a test screeening of the film, deleted scenes, screen test outtakes, and a comic-style “essay” on the film from “Motion Picture Purgatory” author/illustrator Rick Trembles. Great stuff all around.
What can I say? Everything about “Christmas Evil” works, from the red-and-green-heavy color schemee utilized throughout to Maggart’s amazing, and strangely involving, performance in the lead, to the laugh-out-loud grotesquery, to the police lineup of drunken guys in Santa suits, to the often-quite-incisive sociall commentary, to the already-mentioned supremely awesome ending. It’s an absolute one-of-a-kind piece of moviemaking. And while Lewis Jackson, sadly, has never made another film, truth be told he doesn’t need to. This stands as a singular work of genuinely madcap, unhinged genius that will never be duplicated and, frankly, in the annals of Chritmas moviemaking, never surpassed.
I first stumbled upon the name Anais Nin several years ago. I was reading alot of early to mid 20th century american-european literature. You know, Henry Miller, Charles Bukowski, Kerouac. It was very much the era of the confessional, although frankly that term carries a little too much of a catholic guilt undertone for my liking. A more apt expression would be to say that these writers were documenting a lifestyle (often bohemian, definately on the fringes of society) and time period through the lens of their experience and under the influence of writers who had come before them. Nin herself is perhaps best known for her diaries and was very much part of bohemian circles wherever she went, being invovled socially and romantically with writers and artists. She appears in films by both meya derren and kenneth anger; two prominant underground film makers of the time, the former being especially important culturally for creating avant garde works in the predominantly male-dominated counterculture although to reduce both Anais and Maya’ contributions to their paticular gender is to pay them a great disservice. I mean, Kenneth Anger is also pretty damn vital too, especially considering his representations of homosexuality, but to say that this is all there is to his work is as bad as just giving props to Deren and Nin for being female.
Anyways, barely structured and formless ramblings aside, Nin is also known for her Erotic Writings. I’ve only read one book by Nin, much to my shame, and it was a collection of such writings called Little Birds and was a well worth while read. I urge anyone who has the opportunity to read any of her works to seize the chance.
fuck, where was i going with all this? My head keeps telling me that i need to write posts on Deren and Anger but that’s not where this started.
Oh yeah, Nin. She write good. She lived interesting life surrounded by interesting people. She documented a vital time in 20th century society, art and counterculture in a frank manner. She’s a damn fine writer of erotic fiction. She held her own in social circles dominated by men.
This is her talking about drugs, taken from one of her diaries:
[Huxley] reminded me that drugs are beneficial if they provide the only access to our nightlife. I realized that the expression “blow my mind” was born of the fact that America had cemented access to imagination and fantasy and that it would take dynamite to remove this block! I believed Leary’s emphasis on the fact we use only one percent of our mind or potential, that everything in our education conspires to restrict and constrict us. I only wished people had had time to study drugs as they studied religion or philosophy and to adapt to this chemical alteration of our bodies.[LSD's] value is in being a shortcut to the unconscious, so that one enters the realm of intuition unhampered, pure as it is in children, of direct emotional reaction to nature, to other human beings. In a sense it is the return to the spontaneity and freshness of childhood vision which makes every child able to paint or sing.
Anais Nin on LSD’s value – ARTHUR MAGAZINE – WE FOUND THE OTHERS.
Matt Damon doesn't want anyone to know he's really checking out that All-Black player's ass.
(Warner Brothers) Morgan Freeman, Matt Damon, Tony Kgoroge, Patrick Mofokeng, Matt Stern, Julian Lewis Jones, Adjoa Andoh, Marguerite Wheatley, Leleti Khumalo, Patrick Lyster, Penny Downie, McNiel Hendricks, Louis Minaar, Zak Feaunati. Directed by Clint Eastwood
History has a habit of landing turning points in the most unlikely of moments. Years of apartheid in South Africa led to a mistrust and even hatred between the white Afrikaners and native Africans of South Africa once apartheid was dismantled in 1990. Uniting the two separate nations into one would be the task of newly-elected President Nelson Mandela and it wouldn’t be an easy one. Still, who knew that it would all hinge on the outcome of a rugby match?
One of the symbols of apartheid had been the national rugby team, also known as the Springboks. Their symbol of a leaping Springbok (a kind of horned gazelle) and their colors of green and gold were anathema to many South African blacks. Nelson Mandela (Freeman) himself proclaimed that while incarcerated that he and his fellow prisoners would root for “anybody who played against the Springboks” as they were so cherished by the Afrikaners and it would upset his jailers. His fellow oppressed Africans felt much the same.
Times had changed significantly however; apartheid was a thing of the past and Mandela was the newly-elected president of South Africa. Rugby, considered a sport of the whites, is now overseen by the South African Sport Council which is ready to retire the Springbok and change the symbol and colors of the team to the Protean, a South African flower. The new president is against this change, much to the chagrin of his loyal chief of staff Brenda (Andoh). He intuitively – and correctly – understands that abolishing the Springboks would be the kind of thing that would feed the fear of the white Afrikaners who felt their nation was being taken away from them. If there was any hope of reconciliation and unification between both sides, the Springboks would have to be a part of it.
To that end Mandela decided to meet with Springbok captain Francois Pienaar (Damon) over tea. While it is explicitly unsaid, the meaning is clear enough; winning the Rugby World Cup, to be hosted by South Africa in 1995, would go a long way towards unifying all South Africans together as one nation.
Pienaar buys in. His parents (Minaar and Downie) are somewhat skeptical, as his girlfriend Nerine (Wheatley) is. So are Mandela’s bodyguards – particularly the stern, by-the-book Jason (Kgoroge) who balks at having former secret policemen like Etienne Feyder (Jones) in his detail. These were, he reasoned quite correctly, the sort of men who dragged his countrymen out of their beds in the middle of the night to take them to jail – or to improvised executions, their bodies to be left for the various fauna of the land to dispose of for them.
The task of winning the World Cup is not an easy one. South Africa had been persona non grata in the sporting world during the era of apartheid and was only just recently becoming integrated back into the world sports arena. The Springboks, once a dominant side, had struggled as they returned to international play. Most pundits picked them to finish near the bottom of the tournement. Pienaar and his mates knew however that they were fighting for more than a cup. They were fighting to keep their nation intact. Even should they prevail against all odds and reach the final, they would be facing a New Zealand All-Blacks club led by Jonah Lomu (Feaunati), the best player in the world.
Eastwood and writer Anthony Peckham (himself a South African who knows the era well) wisely shift the focus from the rugby squad itself to Mandela, allowing Freeman – a personal friend of the South African leader and the only choice to play him, as Freeman has been attempting to get a biography made for decades – to shine. This is one of the best performances for the actor in a distinguished career and has already been nominated for a Golden Globe. He richly deserves an Oscar nomination and should be one of the leading candidates for one when they are announced early next year.
Damon is solid (having also garnered a Golden Globe nomination for best supporting actor) in a role that requires him to essentially be noble and heroic. The denouement of the movie depicts an event that is widely believed to be a turning point towards the reconciliation of the South African nation.
There are many emotional moments in the movie, from the Springboks going to a black township to teach the children rugby and interacting with the children (after initial resistance on many of the team’s part) to a moment when Pienaar and the rest of his teammates visit the Robben Island penitentiary where Mandela was jailed for 30 years (they use the actual location, including Mandela’s actual cell) in what is called a game-changer.
This is an inspiring movie on every count. Yes, rugby lies at the center of the movie but it is only as a metaphor; knowing or not knowing the rules will make little difference to your enjoyment of the movie (and enough of the game is explained during the teaching sequences that you have at least a light grasp of the sport). Leaving the theater, you feel a sense that anything is possible, and that’s a great feeling to have leaving anything.
Clint Eastwood has hit another home run with this movie and while it isn’t finding extreme box office success, chances are it will be around long enough to gather in enough box office cash to be profitable. In any case, this is definitely one movie likely to be on my year-end list of ten best movies – see it if you possibly can.
REASONS TO GO: Freeman’s Oscar-worthy performance puts a human face on one of the 20th Century’s most iconic figures. Even if you don’t know much about rugby you can still love this movie. A very inspiring two hours.
REASONS TO STAY: The movie gets a bit preachy at times.
FAMILY VALUES: Very suitable for all ages.
TRIVIAL PURSUIT: The word “invictus” is Latin for unconquerable and is the root of the word “invincible.” It is the title of a poem written in 1875 by William Ernest Henry, a British poet who was stricken with tuberculosis of the bone at the time and was in the hospital to have his foot amputated due to the disease. Mandela had the poem written on a scrap of paper that he would refer to from time to time during his incarceration for comfort. Although Mandela is portrayed as giving the poem to Pienaar prior to the World Cup finals, it was actually a speech by Theodore Roosevelt that was sent.
HOME OR THEATER: The rugby sequences are definitely better on the big screen to get a sense of proportion for the stadiums the games were played in – otherwise most of the film would fit nicely on the small screen.
FINAL RATING: 9/10
TOMORROW: The Holly and the Quill Begins
NOTE: Check back later today as we will have the 2010 Preview up for your enjoyment.
I just got home after seeing Avatar with my son. Was it the best film I’ve ever seen? No.
The 3D was annoying. 3D movies have to have everything in focus to work. The viewer’s eyes change focus as they look from object to object, person to person.
In the case of Avatar, 3D was clearly an after thought. The scenes devoid of computer magic were shot like any other movie – which means focus shifts within shots. Close things are clear, the background is blurry, unless it comes into focus because someone enters the room, or for some other reason.
This soft and sharp focus happens because it takes a whole lot light – which cost money – and special lenses – which cost even more money – to keep everything in a shot in focus. Orson Wells did it in Citizen Kane. In a very famous scene Charlie Kane was typing in the foreground – his form totally in sharp focus; in the background – far off in the distance – Hezekiah enters through a door, and he is in sharp focus, and stays in focus as he walk forward towards the camera. But Wells did it using a split screen. He shot himself typing using perfect light and sharp focus. Then he shot Joseph Cotton walking towards the camara. Then he joined both pieces of footage to make it look like it was happening in one shot.
My point is that perfect focus is very difficult and expensive to do. But you have to have it for 3d to work. Because everything in Avatar wasn’t in perfect focus, the 3D was annoying.
It worked well with the CGI stuff, and that is what made the movie special, and worth seeing again. Was it the best movie ever made? No. Will it change the way movies are made? Not likely. Was the story original? No, but it was a story worth telling and wonderful to watch being told in such spectacular fashion. I am definitely going to see it again, but when I do I am going to see it in 2D.
Edgar Rice Burroughs Shakes Hands With Edgar Wallace
by
R.E. Prindle
Credit to Wikipedia and Fantastic Fiction.
Quite by accident I came across a probable source for Burroughs in an English writer by the name of Edgar Wallace. Wallace as Burroughs was born in 1875. He was a prolific writer of 175 novels numerous plays and incidental writings. Astonishly he was responsible for the creation of King Kong working up the first script although dying in 1932 before the project came to fruition.
The movies were kind to him; over 160 films based on his novels have been produced.
Burroughs was well aware of Wallace having four of his more obscure titles in his library: Great Stories Of Real Life, Island Life, A King By Night, and Mexican Sierras.
More to the point for Bibliophiles was a series of African novels gathered under the title: Mr. Commissioner Sanders. The first of these, Sanders Of The River, appeared as Burroughs wrote his first novel, A Princess Of Mars, in 1911. The second, The People Of The River, in 1912, The River Of Stars in 1913 and Bosambo Of The River in 1914. The later stories needn’t detain us here as the influence was largely expended in Burroughs novel of 1914, The Beasts Of Tarzan although the influence might have resurfaced in 1929’s Tarzan And The Lost Empire. Wallace also has monkey characters called N’Kima that was probably remembered in the twenties when Burroughs created his own N’Kima.
Wallace was a very good writer. Very concise and intense. The Sanders stories are despised today for depicting an accurate portrayal of the times rather than a sentimental version of what might have been consistent with today’s prejudices. Our own time would prefer something along the lines of Dr. Dolittle Of The River. Amusingly Burroughs’ Beasts of Tarzan could be seen as a parody of Dr. Dolittle.
Unlike Burroughs Wallace was in Africa but seemingly not long enough to have experienced all the adventures he portrays. The series aren’t novels so much as collections of short stories except for River Of Stars which is a longer story than a novelette but short for a full fledged novel. Nice story though.
The first two collections, Sanders Of The River and People Of The River seem to be the main influences of Beasts Of Tarzan. Sanders used a gunboat with a couple Maxims to make his presence tolerated or, even, welcome. Thus he cruised up and down an unnamed river in an unnamed part of Africa but looking very near to Nigeria in order to keep order amongst the troublesome tribes under his jurisdiction.
Burroughs makes a farce of Beasts Of Tarzan having The Big Guy cruise up and down the river in his canoe apparently somewhere in Gabon with his motley crew of beasts. Perhaps reminscent of Kipling.
Burroughs abandoned river stories after Beasts.
There was an incident in Sanders Of The River in which Roman centurions appear and disappear mysteriously. The idea may have recurred to Burroughs for use in Lost Empire.
Altogether I can highly recommend Wallace for some effective story telling. The more PC might wish to avoid the stories. I wouldn’t hesitate to pick up any title that came to hand. In fact I bought a couple omnibus editions giving me about ten percent of the corpus. Wallace’s reputation was made early however in 1905’s Four Just Men. You might want to look that up first.
Starring: Carey Mulligan, Peter Sarsgaard, Emma Thompson, Dominic Cooper, Olivia Williams, Alfred Molina and Rosamund Pike
To those of us ill-fated enough to be born in the decade of shoulder pads, mullets and metal, the fulness of life is forever denied; reared with the crushing belief that no time will ever be as cool, as free or as bohemian as the 1960s. What with The Beatles, Hepburn and the birth of free love, how could any other New Romantic, Girl Power decade ever compete? After an hour and a half of sitting through this gloriously rich, thick cut dialogue between the bourgeois relics of the 50s and the young champions of liberated pleasure, An Education proves, hands down, that the 60s wins the decade of the century award … and then some.
Adapted from the autobiography of journalist Lynn Barber by Nick Hornby, An Education charts the coming of age of one Jenny Mellor; a promising school girl, a well rounded Oxbridge candidate and an exceptionally gifted conversationalist. A coincidental meeting with middle-aged play boy David plunges Jenny into a decadent world of fine art, fine clothes and fabulous French music. Wildly opposed to the studious lifestyle envisioned by Jenny’s father, it is a road that leads to heartbreak and wasted potential.
Draped in an array of costumes that are best described as breathtaking, Carey Mulligan leads an exceptional ensemble cast with both flair and poise. Mulligan captures the perfect balance between an academic wisdom and a worldly naiveté and not only is she beautiful, but her timing is spot on and her delivery perfect. Peter Sarsgaard is disarmingly charming as the dangerous David whilst Dominic Cooper and Rosamund Pike support with an aloof sophistication that would make even Evelyn Waugh envious. If possible, Pike is perhaps even more ravishing than she was back in her days as a Bond girl and Emma Thompson is flawless, as always, in her small but memorable role as Jenny’s virtuous Pharisee of a Headmistress.
Together with Nick Hornby’s beautifully lyrical text, director Lone Scherfig creates a world of intoxicating temptation, for toxic it truly is, as beguiling for the audience as it is for the chief protagonist. The only hole, perhaps, is in the blindly driven ignorance of Jenny’s parents as they thrust her towards an Oxford education with an almost farcical and cringe-worthy pretence to pomp. Amidst the whirligig of artists, authors and glamorous locations, though, this frustration is easily forgotten as An Education slides elegantly towards its humble and poignant conclusion.
RESTAURANT REVIEW: MING TU’S – SACRAMENTO
Last Saturday my wife and I ate at Ming Tu’s – an restaurant located at 1158 “L” Street in Downtown Sacramento. Ming Tu’s serves Asian” inspired” food in a casual setting.
Not affiliated with Ming Tu in any way whatsoever.
Many people have eaten at Ming Tu’s. Some of them have written reviews that can be found at http://www.yelp.com/biz/ming-tus-asian-diner-sacramento. For example, Karina of Elk Grove writes:
“I’ve been here twice – with coworkers and with friends. The food is definitely an Americanized version of Chinese food, but far better than Panda Express. Love their Mongolian beef over brown rice.”
Moo N of Sacramento writes:
“I work a couple of blocks from here so I have had opportunity to eat here often. Each time I have eaten here, I have been quite happy. The teriyaki chicken with rice is my fave and I love the fried rice too! I love rice so if you do too you should definitely partake ”
My dining experience was a little different from Katrina’s and Moo’s. My meal was not as good as theirs. So this is going to be a negative restaurant review.
Over the years I’ve written plenty of restaurant reviews, may of them negative, and when I write a negative review I spend a lot of time describing what I ate and how it was served. Then I complain a lot.
I feel this is a special case. The usual descriptions of the food and service and the usual complaining just wouldn’t be enough to properly express how I feel about this dining experience. So I’m not going to describe the food or the service. I’m not going to make fun of the owner’s funny accent. I am not going to mock the handicapped busboy. Instead, I will simply describe what I did after I left Ming Tu’s.
After I paid the bill and my wife and I left the restaurant, I immediately walked to a nearby church and prayed that God would reach down with His mighty hand and, with a fist of divine fury, smite Ming Tu’s, crushing it down to the bedrock, destroying it utterly.
I know what you are thinking. You think I over reacted. You are thinking: “Aw, come on, Paul. The meal couldn’t have been so bad that you would call upon the Creator of the Universe to smite those responsible. “
If you are thinking this, you are wrong. You weren’t there. You didn’t pay good money for really bad Chinese food. It was so bad that I felt, and still feel, within my rights as a God fearing Christian to call upon the power of Almighty God to send down destruction upon Ming Tu’s and punish all those responsible for my mediocre dining experience.
Now you are thinking: “Okay, Paul, let’s assume for the sake of argument that the meal you were served wasn’t very good. Is that sufficient reason for calling for divine retribution? Isn’t being served a bad meal at a restaurant a trivial reason for calling upon the divine power of God Almighty to smite those who displeased you?”
Not at all. And if you think that, then you probably are not a Christian.
Or you might be a Socialist.
A Socialist Atheist, that’s what you are, if you think there is anything wrong with me asking God to smite anyone I don’t like or destroy any business that has provided less than acceptable service.
Every day, ordinary people from all walks of life call upon the power of the Lord to avenge them – often for seemingly trivial reasons. My own Aunt reads the Bible every day and goes to church every Sunday – and every single day she prays to Baby Jesus that her neighbor die of a heart attack.
Her neighbor is a liberal who plays that jazz music much too loud. And he voted for Obama. Who is a secret Muslim.
But I digress. My point is that it is perfectly okay to call upon the power of God to right any wrong, no matter how trivial the wrong may appear. The Bible shows us that God responds in dramatic ways to correct what seem to be trivial wrongs.
For example, in 2 Kings 23-25, the prophet Elisha, who had a bald, cast a “curse unto God” at a bunch of young boys who were making fun of Elisha’s bald head. Now, you non-Christian, socialist liberal secret Muslims will say that what those kids did was no big deal. Well, God didn’t think so. In response to Elisha’s curse, God sent two female bears to kill forty-two of those boys.
So Elisha called upon the divine power of the Creator of the Universe to punish a bunch of boys who made fun of him. I am calling upon that same power to smite a restaurant that served me a lousy meal. I honestly don’t see the difference. I fully expect to see a big hole in the ground where Ming Tu’s used to be when I next drive or walk by that place.
J’avais été prévenu. Une amie m’avait mise en garde. Tout d’abord, comprenant mon intérêt pour le film et le cinéaste, elle s’était tue, mais la pression était trop forte et elle finit par exposer son ennui et son irritation face à la dernière réalisation de Marco Bellocchio. Et puis, finalement, dans un petit cinéma gardois, deux jours après Noël, nous nous décidâmes à aller nous mesurer à Vincere. A sa grande surprise Miss J. se retrouva en accord avec cette amie qui pourtant ne partage souvent pas les mêmes goûts qu’elle. Elle détesta, honnit cette expérience. Elle l’exprimera avec hargne et talent ci-dessous.
Just went to see the new film, Avatar. Wonderful special effects, excellent 3-D effect, and very nicely realized fantasy world. It was so long, I found myself saying to myself, “C’mon now, move it along, get to the final fight of the good guys and the bad guys…“ I feel like I’ve seen the story before in westerns and sci-fi movies galore over the years. The bad invader who goes native and switches loyalties – wasn’t that what Dancing with Wolves was all about? The interesting new twist was the incorporation of the eco-green-enviro-religiosity: the innocent forest people in tune with the sacred wellspring of life, a sort of Ygdrasil, the holy tree; the bad earthlings who killed the green part of their world and are willing to destroy this new one, Pandora, for a metal, Unobtainium – I like that comic touch of the name because I’ve been helping my son with chemistry lately! If it had been 60 minutes shorter, I would have enjoyed as a piece of brilliantly done entertainment fluff, but it was soooo pretentious and predictable.
4/5
”
Or you might be a Socialist.
A Socialist Atheist, that’s what you are, if you think there is anything wrong with me asking God to smite anyone I don’t like or destroy any business that has provided less than acceptable service.
For those who had a doubt about Dirty Harry’s views on peace and usage of violence