Close-Up [Abbas Kiarostami, 1990]

• There are perhaps no films that stay with me quite as much as those that challenge genre, audiences, or film itself--and Close-Up manages to accomplish all three.


• Questioning the criteria of what's documentary and what's not, Close-Up is essentially a re-enactment of actual events, mixed with live documentary footage and an artistic shot or two as well.


• What I found most fascinating about Close-Up was its suggestion that filming reality is simply not possible. The main character(?) is asked by the court whether or not he is acting, as the camera is on him. One wonders, though, whether or not this is the documentary footage or a re-enactment?


• In reference to the "artistic shots" mentioned above, there is a rather wonderful long take in which a can is tossed off a pile of garbage by one person, and the camera follows it rolling down the street. Later, another person kicks it in celebration. Not particularly impressive in description but it references Kiarostami's interest in long takes and the rewards one can receive from them.


• Bit with Makhmalbaf at the end is rather affecting, and rather daring [or couldn't it be helped?!] decision to include the footage with constantly interrupted sound due to faulty mic.

10/masterpiece

The Darjeeling Limited [Wes Anderson, 2007]

[spoiler-full]

• Pic begins roughly, much of the material teetering on the edge of self-indulgence more than anything, but loses self-interest once the trio gets off the train for the first time.
• What seems to be going down nearly the exact same path as Life Aquatic makes a dramatic turn for the better when the three jump into the a river to save drowning Indian boys. No coincidence; Brody is the only one who fails to save his child and like with his father, experiences his death first-hand. The funeral that follows goes beyond any Anderson material to date, many silent sequences which include Brody's coming to grips with fatherhood [of which he's about to experience].
• The control freak and brutally honest words of Wilson are reflected by his mother, Huston, but he has not completely followed in his mother's footsteps. Whereas she has run away from her family, Wilson insists on reunion.
• Materialism is an important theme in Darjeeling, ironic considering Anderson's always glossy set pieces. Wilson constantly complains of his expensive clothing being borrowed or stolen, which directly contrasts the simple lives of the Indians. After they're kicked off the Limited, Wilson's laminating machine falls off and breaks--the beginning of the end of their materialism as the Satyajit Ray and Powell/Pressburger elements set in at the Indian boy's funeral.
• This motif is also key to both the beginning and end. Bill Murray races to catch the train but is ultimately weighed down by his large suitcases, and misses the train. The somewhat obvious metaphor of luggage equaling emotional baggage is revealed in the end: the brothers are forced to ditch their suitcases and bags in order to catch their next train. They've successfully let go of the burden of their father's death.
• Who is Bill Murray's character and why is he included both in the beginning and the inspired "curtain call" of minor characters portrayed in train compartments? He's the men's father. Notice the look Brody gives Murray when their racing to the Limited, and remember that he's "looking through his father's glasses." Is it a coincidence that their father was killed by a taxi, and Murray being held up by his taxi in the beginning? I think not. Thus in that important scene when the three brothers and their mother "communicate without words," Brody is imagining Murray as having made the train--a sense of closure.
• Cinematography is top notch especially a poignant scene towards the end when Schwartzman stacks rocks upon a feather in a pyramid structure. The camera pulls away to imply that the three are in fact that little stone on top of the enormous mountain: the world doesn't revolve around them.
• Probably the best soundtrack of the year, Darjeeling combines The Kinks' "Strangers" The Rolling Stones' "Play With Fire" with original scores from Satyajit Ray pics. Music is a staple in dramatic Anderson scenes and he continues to choose his songs perfectly.

8/great

Syndromes and a Century [Apichatpong Weerasethakul, 2007]

• split into halves like the previous Tropical Malady--but a significant improvement upon the style. Whereas Malady's second half was a brilliant idea drawn out for the sake of equidistance, Syndromes elaborates on its first half completely. We receive the opportunity to watch the same characters at the same age in two hospitals, one forty years earlier and the latter present day. The effects of modernization are subtle, implying both growth and reluctance [portrayed most in a scene in which a doctor replies with silence to the proposal of moving into a futuristic urban business center with his girlfriend].
• The sound, as in Malady, stands out. The film is mostly scored by birds chirping and the wind blowing through trees, but a slow love song that helps bridge the two narratives [or lackthereof] is especially affecting.
• The visuals of both nature and city life are astounding, the camera working in long takes both static and wandering. In the beginning, the camera wanders away from its characters and rests upon an open field, a more interesting subject to Weerasethakul. Later, a woman stares into the camera while a colleague attempts a spiritual healing method on a patient. With her long direct eye contact, the nurse seems to demand viewers to follow the instructions as well.
• The ending suggests further advancement in time; the small aerobic class of 40 years earlier performed static stretches, then in the second half a now larger class jogged down the halls, and then finally in the last shot, a group of fifty or so people perform caffeinated dance moves to a hyperactive techno track.

Experimental stuff is never easy. Let me dwell on it.

Lars and the Real Girl [Craig Gillespie, 2007]

• modern day fable balances sentimentality and comedy well, never indulging itself in too many sex jokes or emotionally manipulative climaxes
• screenplay is incredibly basic and unpretentious: everyday language and characters familiar to small town residents [such as myself]
• Gosling escapes into the title role, playing Lars intimately in a role radically different than that in Half Nelson or Fracture. Paul Schneider and Emily Mortimer, especially, are fantastic in supporting turns. Patricia Clarkson is gorgeous as always and Kelli Garner shines in her dorky role.
• use of Talking Heads' "This Must Be the Place" is wonderful; David Torn's musical score is exceptional in the bowling scenes, and the ending.

7.5/very good

Lust, Caution [Ang Lee, 2007]

Because paragraphs are overrated...

• standout debut performance from Wei Tang, she pulls off seduction, sympathy, guilt and mystery effortlessly; per usual exceptional perf from Tony Leung, creating an intimidating, complex character
• I never lost interest in its 160 minute running time, but the plot did lollygag a bit
• The sex scenes are indeed the film's best moments. Intensely shot by Rodrigo Prieto, intercourse likely wasn't simulated. The passion is tangible.
• Ending seems a bit rushed, but the scenes preceding it are the best besides the Lust ones.

8/great

Strangers on a Train [Alfred Hitchcock, 1951]

Released in 1951, Strangers on a Train was a rebound from more forgettable films such as Stage Fright and Under Capricorn. Hitchcock wastes no time developing his two title characters with a clever opening: Guy's plain black pants and shoes are contrasted by Bruno's striped slacks and spotted shoes in continuous shots.. Our protagonist is the rather plain, even boring, tennis star played by Farley Granger, who looks like a bit of a young James Stewart stand-in. The owner of the flamboyant wardrobe is Robert Walker's Bruno, who looks uncannily like Robert Mitchum.

The movie quickly becomes an analysis of obsession, led by Walker's powerhouse performance that seems to have in fact influenced Mitchum's in Night of the Hunter. As usual, Hitchcock invents new ways to heighten suspense, including the brilliant use of glasses to reflect an image. However, some of it doesn't quite work: the would-be nail biting tennis match nearly kills the suspense for a while until the climax on one of the best set pieces I've yet see Hitchcock use: a carousel.

Overall, I wouldn't quite put Strangers on a Train up with pictures like The 39 Steps or Shadow of a Doubt but would compare it to the success of The Lady Vanishes. Still, "above average" Hitchcock is better than most directors' magnum opi [I think I made that word up].

8/great

Contempt [Jean-Luc Godard, 1963]

I don't think my radically different impressions of the two Godard [the other being Breathless]films I've now seen are owed completely to difference in quality. I probably would have reacted the same to Contempt two years ago, so I'll credit both experience and education in terms of film as to why I'm so incredibly impressed at this picture's depth--and greatness.

As much as my enlightenment and love for film has grown, I must admit there was still so much that went over my head here. I'm rather proud of myself to say I immediately realized the following: while essentially a film about filming an unfilmable story, Godard instead allegorically adapts The Odyssey, the temptation of movies being the Trojan War. There are also a slew of Greek references throughout; one I picked up on was Paul's wearing of his towel like a toga. Another example, which I unfortunately didn't connect, was Prokosch's tossing of film cans like Olympic discusses.

The more I've read about Contempt since finishing it, the more impressed I've been. Godard uses several techniques to imply that the main couple in fact represents himself and his wife (Anna Karina). And from what I've read about the man, and seen (Breathless), you'd be surprised to see Godard take the woman's side of a marital strife, which is just what he does here. The second act of the film that, using long static tracking shots and quick edits, implies real time, is the film's peak as far as greatness goes. Paul's insecurities provoke Camille's psychological playfulness, until Paul's paranoia causes Camille to actually become what he had feared.

Contempt is so richly complex, not to mention visually breathtaking, that I could keep going for a long time, but would be largely borrowing from other more studious observers. That being said, I have taken on a radically new view of Godard, and can't wait to see more of his works.

10/masterpiece