2010: The Year in Film

Hello, faithful readers! For those of you who have stuck around in my extended self-imposed sabbatical (all five of you), I thank you. For your loyal readership, you will be handsomely rewarded with this new rambling blog post! Unfortunately, the truth is that I really have no excuse for my absence, and for that I apologize. I started this blog in May of last year. My (admittedly personally ambitious) intent was to chronicle every single movie I saw with a thoughtful review. I started well with this goal in mind, but after a few months, things started to fall by the wayside, and as you can now see, I haven’t written a review in months. Many,many months. I want to extend great gratitude to good friend Thomas Flanagan, who has kept the blog as least partially alive with his thoughtful reviews. So here we are. It’s almost mid-April and we’re well into spring. What better way to celebrate the season than to reflect back on the year of movies in 2010? Timely, I know.

2010 was a strange year for movies, not only for cinema in general, but for my own personal movie watching habits. I probably watched less movies last year than I have in almost a decade. Between having a full-time job, other hobbies and interests and time with friends and family, my viewing habits just got pushed to the backburner. I didn’t bother to seek out the buzz movies like I had in years past. I didn’t have any real stake in who won Oscars this year (except for that excellent Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross score!). Instead, my entertainment habits seemed to fall elsewhere. I went to more concerts this year than ever before. I watched more quality TV than I think I have in previous years. I also rarely visited the multiplex--I’ve realized I’ve grown weary of nearly any film that’s a sequel, remake, “re-imagining” or any film that has “Saw” in the title. Save for the excellent scheduling from local haunts such as the Belcourt Theatre, the offerings this year at the multiplex were few and far between. Sure, there were some clear highlights (anything Pixar puts out is at least worth a trip to the theater), but the overall selections seemed to be lacking this year.

Another shift from the multiplex this year: Netflix Instant Watch and Redbox. I know what you’re thinking--why pay $10.75 to see Iron Man 2 in the theater when you can wait 3 months and see it for $1.00? Studios aren’t particularly happy with this model (and understandably so), but it’s increasingly becoming the norm for many people. I still believe that the optimal place to experience a movie is the theater setting, but it often requires a time commitment that is difficult to negotiate. On the other hand, avenues such as Netflix Instant Watch allow one to watch a movie anytime and virtually anywhere. My biggest drawback to the Instant Watch is that the quality isn’t quite there yet (both in terms of content and actual picture quality). However, It provides a great avenue for independent films and documentaries. As of today, you can watch many of the acclaimed documentaries from last year (Restrepo, Exit Through the Gift Shop) and acclaimed foreign films (Everyone Else, Dogtooth) that you might not have the opportunity to see at your local theater. That’s where the real power of the service comes in. Where the option to rent a movie at your local rental store has become virtually extinct, the ability to queue up and discover many films you probably missed in a second is invaluable.

Now, not all is gloom and doom for the movies. There was still quite a lot to recommend from this past year. Aside from new films, I was also able to revisit a few older favorites and catch up on films I had never seen, some of which quickly moved up my list of all-time favorites. Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le Samourai (also a clear influence on last year’s The American) was a clear stand-out discovery for me. I was also able to catch bits of a Kurosawa perspective presented by the Belcourt, and I was lucky enough to catch both The Seven Samurai and Ikiru on the big screen, a true treat for any cinephile. Of the films that were released in 2010 (or foreign films released stateside in 2010), here is my top 20:

1. The Social Network
2. Winter’s Bone
3. Scott Pilgrim vs. The World
4. Exit Through the Gift Shop
5. True Grit
6. Dogtooth
7. Toy Story 3
8. Let Me In
9. A Prophet
10. The Kids Are All Right
11. Inception
12. Black Swan
13. Shutter Island
14. Never Let Me Go
15. Somewhere
16. The Fighter
17. Best Worst Movie
18. Sweetgrass
19. Greenberg
20. The American

There are also a number of films I have yet to see, including (but not limited to): Carlos, The King’s Speech, 127 Hours, Another Year, I Am Love, Inside Job, Blue Valentine, Please Give, Mother, Everyone Else, Animal Kingdom, Red Riding: 1980 and Red Riding: 1983.

I want to thank everyone who periodically checks up on the blog from time to time, and I hope that I’ll be able to hold up my end of the bargain better this year.

Until then, stay tuned.

Enter the Void (2009)

By Thomas Flanagan (guest blogger)

Warning: Spoilers follow.

In this modern age of film, an era where CGI graphics have become a crutch for uninspired filmmaking, it can be a crusade to find a film that is both innovative and visually stunning. We as “old-timers” hearken back to the model spaceships of Star Wars and the mechanized shark of Jaws. We cry foul at the diluted, polluted, and played special effects most often employed to entertain today’s ADD-plagued audience. It stands to reason that when a film of true visual integrity arises, we stand and take notice. Gaspar Noé’s 2009 psychological thriller Enter the Void is truly an avant-garde slice of heaven. The magnitude of the genius employed in the visionary concept of this film makes it impossible for me to justly compare it to any previous film; however, there is an aura of Hitchcock, of classic film noir, and grindhouse realism that is inescapably palpable in this movie. To the modern cinematographer, ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you your current day Citizen Kane.

The movie itself is a loose adaptation of “The Tibetan Book of the Dead”. Oscar, a young American expatriate living in Japan, is shot and killed in a narcotics sting gone awry. Over the course of the movie we see the repercussions of Oscar’s death, as well as why he turned to crime and how hope was extracted from his tragedy. In terms of its content, this film is not for the faint of heart. Noé’s imagery includes scenes suggesting an incestuous relationship between Oscar and his kid sister Linda, rampant drug use, child separation, a clear depiction of not only an abortion procedure but also a frame of the aborted fetus, and gratuitous sexual encounters (it is said that Noé picked Paz de la Huerta for the role of Linda because she, “likes screaming, crying, and showing herself naked”). The combination of the soon to be described visuals and the jarring subject matter makes this film dangerously emotionally gripping.

It is to be expected that any drug movie will contain powerful imagery, and most drug movies elect to highlight the negative consequences of the counter-culture. Requiem for a Dream and Trainspotting are just two examples of very disturbing films, so much so that dare I say anyone would present one positive sentiment regarding heroin. Where Enter the Void succeeds is that it ventures into uncharted waters. While Oscar does partake in drugs, the character’s downfall is actually brought about by pre-existing psychological trauma. Due to a horrific car crash in which both his parents were killed (as Oscar and Linda helplessly looked on from the back seat), Oscar received a tremendous amount of mental strain. Couple that with a failed promise to never leave Linda shortly before the siblings are separated, and film chronicles the birth of an antihero. We see that due to severe psychotic anguish Oscar becomes quite apathetic and Linda turns to promiscuity to, pardon the pun, fill the void in her life. It is not drugs that negatively affect either character; rather, drugs merely act as a tool to paint a backdrop for this film, and what a vibrant backdrop it is.

The penultimate sequence in the film revolves around a camera panning above a psychedelic Tokyo, sometimes entering windows of rooms in skyscrapers, where we see various scenes of hedonistic pleasure, genitals aglow in the process. We finally enter a hotel room where we see Alex, Oscar’s best friend, making love to Linda. We enter her abdomen, where we see the process of ejaculation and the fertilization of an ovum. The film concludes with birth anew, as a child is brought into the world. This scene is fundamental in that, although the previously described imagery is quite blunt and graphic, we see that Oscar’s death allows Alex and Linda to find love, and brings the circle of life to a complete revolution. It is doubtful, however, such crass scenery can be fully examined with visuals as exhilarating and effervescent as those Noé presents. Red, green, and blue automated disco lights, as well as strobe lights, were used to crate a surreal feeling pervasive in many of the interior sequences of the film. For outdoor scenes a combination of shots taken from a helicopter flying over the city and CGI were forged to create an LSD-inspired Tokyo. The psychedelic flavor was further enhanced by neon lights and various camera tricks, such as accentuating reflections and dark areas, as well as introducing flickers mixed with motion blur, chromatic aberration, and focal distortion. The result is an acid-freaks dream, a glowing city filled with constant visual and auditory stimulation, a pulsating world hindered only by the limits of one’s imagination; in short, a cinematic masterpiece.

The only area where this motion picture stumbles is the acting department. While not critically hailed, Paz de la Huerta and Cyril Roy perform quite admirably in their roles as Linda and Alex, respectively. Nathaniel Brown (Oscar) is quite mechanical, however. This was intentional because Oscar is never shot from the front (the scenes where he is alive are shot from his point of view, thus, the only clear depiction of him displays the back of his head and his shoulders). Noé selected Brown for the role because he believed that a seasoned actor would be quite uncomfortable with this minimalization, and Brown, an aspiring director, saw the artistic merit in that approach. Unfortunately, however, Brown’s disconnection with the role becomes apparent in his depiction of Oscar, and his scenes are quite choppy. This, however, should not stop you from viewing this film. Rarely does a film arise that not only takes you on a visual journey but also engages every emotion, and this is surely a film that succeeds in that task. Enter the Void perfectly illustrates a psychedelic experience, something even those at the pinnacle of LSD use could not do, and I suggest you buy the ticket, take the ride.

Rating: 4 stars out of 5

Funny Games (2007)

by Thomas Flanagan (guest blogger)

Warning: Spoilers follow.

2007’s Funny Games, much like its 1997 Austrian predecessor, chronicles the demise of an upper middle-class family as they are harangued, tormented, tortured, and eventually murdered by two malicious, albeit eloquent, youths (Michael Pitt and Brady Corbet). The movie opens with the family serenely driving to their summer home, amicably listening to a piece by Handel. The harmony elicited by that composition is interrupted by the cacophonous sound of Naked City ’s discordant song “Bonehead,” signaling to the audience that a nightmarish, macabre experience lay in wait for the unsuspecting family. As the family arrives we see that their neighbors are apprehensively entertaining two teenagers dressed in all white apparel. The two groups tensely exchange pleasantries, and then the family departs to their home to begin to arrange things for their stay. Shortly after arriving. One of the young men arrives asking to borrow eggs for the next-door neighbors. This marks the beginning of the hellish journey the family must undertake as the two adolescents kidnap the family and force them to participate in a series of charades where survival is the grand prize. Ultimately the entire family is massacred by this “gruesome twosome”, after which the duo eagerly arrives at the home of the next credulous victim, continuing the circle of lunacy and butchery.

Now I will relieve you, the moviegoer, of the burden of having to watch this beastly, rubbish film. The problem with this particular motion picture is its potential. The movie itself is visually and emotionally breathtaking. The cinematography is state of the art; the wardrobe and set were elegantly designed (the camera work combined with the Long Island backdrop truly gives the feeling of a vibrant New England morning at the film’s onset). The cast was not only well selected, all involved performed quite admirably. Tim Roth turns in an astonishing portrayal of the patriarch of the family, and Naomi Watts also delivers a solid performance. I was especially pleased with the performance of young Devon Gearhart, who played the family’s son. I often find myself thoroughly unimpressed with child actors, but this young man captured the panic of a youngster thrust into a ludicrous, atrocious situation (the fear he exudes is palpable when the gun he has aimed at Michael Pitt’s character misfires). And speaking of Michael Pitt, everyone knows he is a quite talented thespian. Thus, with all of the other elements in place for a noteworthy picture, it was ultimately the writing that damned this film.

The central point of this film is to illustrate to the viewer how inherently violent we as a people are. As previously stated, Michael Pitt does a superior job in depicting a character the viewer will love to despise. And justly so, we as the viewer want to see this character unreservedly punished. This, however, never occurs. Instead, in the only moment when vengeance can be exacted, Naomi Watts’s character shoots the dim-witted Peter. An infuriated Paul grabs a remote, rewinds the movie to the part immediately preceding Peter’s slaying, and knocks the gun from her hands. The couple then proceeds to ultimately castigate the family. Intermittently throughout the film as the chaos is ensuing the character of Paul will break the fourth wall, directly addressing the audience members, mocking us and continuously reasserting that the family is doomed. Therein lies the flaw with this picture. This movie directly, personally insults you as the viewer. This is not a general indictment of society, as was the case with A Clockwork Orange. In that particular story, Alex had to triumph in order to perfectly illustrate author Anthony Burgess’s point. In Funny Games Peter and Paul win merely to infuriate you the audience member.

The error in the logic of infuriation is that Funny Games seems to be geared towards two moviegoing minds—the arthouse film buff crowd and the horror enthusiasts. When the film buff views Funny Games, they will neither be excited nor enjoy the trite message that we as humans are inherently violent, and if those fans cannot support that message, the horror-movie purist (which I admittedly relate to) will detest it. It’s no secret that humans are beastly, and this fact is not only embraced by horror-movie fans, it is lauded. Give us violence and give us manslaughter, and for everything sacred don’t try to make us ashamed of it! Just look at one of the most widely accepted horror films ever. Wes Craven’s 1972 picture Last House on the Left serves as gourmet cuisine for the horror-movie purist. In fact, one of the most memorable scenes occurs when one of the tormentors of the murdered girl has a dream where the child’s parents have him fastened to an operating chair, calmly performing invasive and rather unnecessary dental work. As horror movie fans, our only regret was that this action was taken only in the confines of a dream. Thus, as it relates to Funny Games, of course we only want the worst for Peter and Paul, and it is impossible to make us abashed by this desire. We don’t shy away from implacable intentions, we proclaim them. Don’t pompously preach to us the cautionary tales of allowing our bloodlust to take hold, feed us! By not “wetting our beaks” it is impossible for us as a people to not be completely subdued by this film.

Sadly enough the need for reprisal for a subpopulation of the audience did not escape the grasp of Michael Haneke. Haneke was well aware that the horror-movie fanatic would never accept ignominy for his or her barbaric nature, thus he tried to create two despicable characters that a subset of the population would root for. This is not uncommon in the genre of fright, as John Carpenter, George Romero, and numerous directors from the Friday the 13th series can attest. Clive Barker created a character of Pinhead in Hellraiser, and over the course of seven movies, Pinhead performed no charitable or merciful deed, yet he still managed to receive fan mail. In addition, purists have even latched on to the Groucho Marx-loving, eccentric Firefly family of Rob Zombie fame (although I find them quite irritating). The Fireflys, Pinhead and the Cenobites, Freddy Krueger, Jason Voorhees, Hannibal Lecter, and Michael Myers are all villainous, murdering scum; however, there is some innate quality that makes them highly attractive to horror-movie fans. Some enjoy being frightened by characters such as Krueger and Voorhees because they understand that due to some past traumatic event they were created, not born. Many appreciate Lecter’s wit, his artistic taste, and his intellect. A case can even be made that Myers’s silence adds great mystery and depth to his character. This is nothing to celebrate in the one-dimensional, grating characters of Peter and Paul. They share none of Lecter’s charm, there is no backstory that exists with Krueger and Voorhees, and unlike Myers, they will not keep their mouths shut. Being subjected to 111 minutes of Peter and Paul’s murderous spree is equivalent to watching a movie about a spoiled, rich kid who faces no obstacle and respects no other person, and at the end of the film ends up with Diane Kruger. It’s Andie choosing Blane over Duckie, or if Gene Hackman’s character in Unforgiven arrests Clint Eastwood and ruthlessly beats him to death, instead of the tremendously gratifying frontier justice that befell sheriff Bill Daggett. The trailer for this film is accompanied by Grieg’s “In the Hall of the Mountain King,” and I believe this is the perfect vehicle for this film. That particular composition evokes feeling of exasperation, irritation, and aggravation for me, and that is exactly what this movie does. This movie is insidiously irksome, thus the two go hand in hand.

If you enjoy the soothing sound of a root canal, relish in the hollow feeling of just having been dumped, or are energized when vandals destroy your property, I believe this is an excellent film for you. However, if you love film, it’s mysticism, it’s ability to transport you to different worlds via imagination, and motion picture’s marvelous ability to inspire, this is not the picture for you. If you encounter this movie at any point in your travels, I encourage you to leave it where you found it, which is most likely in the bargain-bin of some second-rate gas station.

Rating: 0 stars

Trash Humpers (2009)

By Thomas Flanagan (guest blogger)

As the film’s title so brazenly implies, Trash Humpers is truly a picture that pulls no punches. The drama, shot with a VHS camcorder, follows the exploits of four individuals shrouded in senior citizenesque masks as they proceed to perform activities honoring the movie’s namesake. Over an unspecified time period, the gang partakes in multiple acts of perversion and horror, including burglary, prostitution, corruption, kidnapping, and even murder (and yes, the film does deliver many scenes of the dry-humping of trash receptacles). For 78 minutes the viewer is treated to a nightmarish reality which appears to have been edited by a schizophrenic, and by the conclusion of the movie, the only certainty the audience is left with is that the individuals shooting this film are criminally deranged.

However, It is the desire to shock which hampers this film. Director Harmony Korine’s self-described portrait of the current “American landscape” revolves around a series of "park garages, back alleyways, and beautiful lamp posts that light up the gutter." It is this middle-class ambiance that Korine is able to so masterfully portray. Anyone familiar with Korine’s work can derive the “junior high” mood which is palpable in all of his movies. The sometimes barbarous need for carnal pleasures, the loneliness and isolation, and the frightening absurdity which plague cities like Pulaski, Tennessee; Brandon, Mississippi; Pork Van, Utah; Wampum, Pennsylvania; and Visalia, California (thank-you Platoon), Korine expertly captures these absurdities via motion picture and presents them in such a manner that repressed pre-teen memories are inevitably conjured. In the 1995 film KIDS (directed by Larry Clark, featuring a screenplay written by Korine), the audience is horrified as we follow an HIV-stricken teen in his quest to “de-virginize” as many adolescent girls as possible. However, it is impossible not to recall many of our own desires to experience intimacy at so early an age and our failure to understand sex’s gravity (it is implicit that none care to tangle with these issues under the veil of AIDS). 2002’s Ken Park more blatantly displays these “tween” primal urges, but importantly it captures the previously described mind-numbing insanity that is prevalent in American suburbs. It is also in this film, however, in which we see the errors of Korine’s excess.

Korine’s brilliance resides in the harnessing of his talents. In Chuck Klosterman’s book Fargo Rock City, Klosterman questions the fine line of guitar virtuosos and their contribution to the genre of heavy metal in terms of technical wizardry versus greatness. A guitarist such as Eddie Van Halen was capable of delivering fingertip-melting solos, but the band’s songs and production often favored David Lee Roth’s vocals. Thus, the listener was granted only snippets of the guitarist’s skill, leaving the captivated guitarphile yearning for more, while the casual music-lover was never subjected to the technical arrogance pervasive in a guitarist such as Yngwie Johann Malmsteen (as Klosterman used as an example). Diamond Dave’s “prison” is similar to the service director Larry Clark was able to provide for Korine. In KIDS we are treated to only two images of teen sexual encounters, both of which are more vulgar in the feelings they evoke than in their imagery. In Ken Park the union between Clark and Korine began to dissolve, and we see the consequence of that divorce as Ken Park devolves into a shock flick. Fast-forward to modern day, and we see the result of what Kramer from Seinfeld would call “unbridled enthusiasm.” Trash Humpers has the ability to shock the audience (a particularly disturbing scene involves the foursome’s interaction with what at first appears to be a mild-mannered church-going youth), but in his need to instill emotion, Korine leaves the audience numb to his musings. Throughout the film the gang elicits hyena-like shrieks to punctuate moments of abnormality. There is little doubt this was intended to showcase the horrifying nature of the group, however all it leaves is an irritated movie-goer. In addition between many of the stomach-turning scenes it appears as if Korine had no answer on how to bridge the gap, thus these moments are characterized by the peeping Toms performing mundane or played activities in which the viewer’s ears are unfortunately subjected to the piercing hyena cackles (how many scenes can you watch of masked individuals attempting to hump trash before it gets quite stale?). By going for broke, Korine plays his hand far too early and leaves the audience quite accustomed to his act. This is highly disappointing when viewed under the context of what Korine is capable of under the proper guidance.

For those familiar with Korine’s work, I would recommend this film. Despite the annoying feature characters and the multiple dead moments, when the film delivers, it is quite poignant. Korine’s own character’s treatise on his actions is particularly thought-provoking, and the “Three Little Devils” song interspersed at various points in the film adds a truly haunting aura. For those who are novices to Harmony Korine, perhaps a screening of previous directoral efforts Gummo or Julien Donkey-Boy would be necessary before trying to size-up this film.

Rating: 2 ½ stars