Here in BackseatDirectorLand, I like to keep an open mind. I understand films will not always have ideas and themes that I will openly embrace. Woody Allen as a writer and director has often written about the complications and disappointments of love. (See: pretty much any film of his. No, really. Annie Hall is his best example.) However, to make a film about the disappointments of love in general, in its many potential forms, one really should pursue some sort of point. And the punctuationally-challenged title Vicky Cristina Barcelona is not that film.
Vicky (a lovely Rebecca Hall, a Brit I'd love to see more of), and Cristina (Scarlett Johansson) are polar opposites in how they perceive love: Vicky is very traditional big-house-in-the burbs, has a stable fiancee, whereas Cristina is constantly searching for, as she vaguely puts it "something different," which leads her to a more open and atypical lifestyle. The best friends go to Barcelona for two months while Vicky works on her Master's thesis. Both meet, and become entangled with free-thinking, free-loving artist Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem, no longer creepy as he was in No Country for Old Men) and his unstable ex-wife Maria Elena (Penelope Cruz, who won an Oscar; she was good, but I don't see it).
All I can say is, I don't get it. It is a worthy subject, to try to explore the confinements and potential dissatisfaction of a traditional life and what would be considered an alternative life-style (think plural relationship). But this film just sort of drifts without coming to a consensus on either. And I don't think Allen wants us to decide one is superior to the other. An audience or viewer will come in with their own conception of that. But the film is oddly empty, and dissatisfying. And I'm attracted to films that present problems without easy answers. Sadly, this fairness to both sides leads to an emptiness, a lack of emotional involvement which kills the film. Allen doesn't try to change your mind or persuade you, but again, that leaves the film with a sense of dead weight and pointlessness that is difficult to shake, despite a very promising subject. I wished he had more closely pursued the volatile, passionate relationship between Bardem and Cruz's characters; a best of both worlds approach, if you will, because their relationship cannot work in a traditional mode, but it also has difficulties in a nontraditional mode. Now that would be worth exploring. Unfortunately, with the way the story is set up, the characters come off as neurotic, pretentious, and often downright annoying, and I found I was wondering when the film was going to end. The one real highlight of this film for me was the beautiful Spanish setting, that really is shot like a love-letter to Spain.
Final word: Skip it. Catch some earlier Allen instead.
(Rated PG-13 for mature thematic material involving sexuality, and smoking. Also some mild language, but in Spanish.)
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Forgotten Genius: Buster Keaton
So I was idly flipping over TCM's offerings last night (I know, how many people start conversations like that?), when I noticed two silent offerings were on, both featuring Buster Keaton: Sherlock, Jr. and Steamboat Bill, Jr. I'd only seen one Buster Keaton movie before this, The General, which Keaton spends most of suspended or otherwise imperiled by a train. I was amused, but I didn't think it really held up. Curious, I decided to watch both features. Boy, am I happy I did.
If you're not familiar with Keaton, he was a very famous silent film star through the late 1920's. He was known for acting with an almost deadpan face, and for his incredible physicality as an actor; during this era you had to be, out of necessity. It's not like those dialogue cards were doing you any favors. Charlie Chaplin gets most of the credit in this era, mostly because he did have the Little Tramp, but also because he made a smooth transition into the sound era. Keaton, due to contract difficulties, did not. What I learned, thanks to "Uncle" Robert Osbourne of TCM, was that almost all of the incredibly dangerous-looking stunts I watched in those two films, and his others were just that dangerous: he did them for real. If you're not familiar with some Keaton gags, he falls down a lot, runs himself into walls and flips, etc. But in Sherlock, Jr., he allows a water-pipe to throw him at least 15 feet down to a set of railroad tracks, and in Steamboat Will, Jr., he precariously positioned himself to allow a full-weight house wall to fall around him. I'd never seen an actor that willing to run toward falling scenery! I found out from imdb.com, aka Mecca, that the fall from the pipe accidentally fractured his neck, and the falling house would have killed him if it landed just wrong. A portion of the "stunt" crew refused to be a part. And these movies, though the story lines are dated, the gags are still funny and timeless--a lot of this due to Keaton's appeal as a performer.
And this is something that upset me. Who, besides geeks like me, have heard of him? His movies are holding up, considering they were made at least eighty years ago, and the man practically invented movie stunts, quite a few of them at his own physical expense. He is forgotten mainly because of his long transition into sound movies. You can catch him in speaking roles (notably, a cameo in a classic favorite of mine, Sunset Blvd., and a role in A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum). Alas, his time had pasted by then.
So pay tribute to this performer, director and all-around daredevil by Neflixing one of the movies above. You'll discover a forgotten jewel in the annals of Hollywood history, who deserves a much bigger role in the mainstream consciousness.
Thanks to www.imdb.com for information that contributed to this post.
If you're not familiar with Keaton, he was a very famous silent film star through the late 1920's. He was known for acting with an almost deadpan face, and for his incredible physicality as an actor; during this era you had to be, out of necessity. It's not like those dialogue cards were doing you any favors. Charlie Chaplin gets most of the credit in this era, mostly because he did have the Little Tramp, but also because he made a smooth transition into the sound era. Keaton, due to contract difficulties, did not. What I learned, thanks to "Uncle" Robert Osbourne of TCM, was that almost all of the incredibly dangerous-looking stunts I watched in those two films, and his others were just that dangerous: he did them for real. If you're not familiar with some Keaton gags, he falls down a lot, runs himself into walls and flips, etc. But in Sherlock, Jr., he allows a water-pipe to throw him at least 15 feet down to a set of railroad tracks, and in Steamboat Will, Jr., he precariously positioned himself to allow a full-weight house wall to fall around him. I'd never seen an actor that willing to run toward falling scenery! I found out from imdb.com, aka Mecca, that the fall from the pipe accidentally fractured his neck, and the falling house would have killed him if it landed just wrong. A portion of the "stunt" crew refused to be a part. And these movies, though the story lines are dated, the gags are still funny and timeless--a lot of this due to Keaton's appeal as a performer.
And this is something that upset me. Who, besides geeks like me, have heard of him? His movies are holding up, considering they were made at least eighty years ago, and the man practically invented movie stunts, quite a few of them at his own physical expense. He is forgotten mainly because of his long transition into sound movies. You can catch him in speaking roles (notably, a cameo in a classic favorite of mine, Sunset Blvd., and a role in A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum). Alas, his time had pasted by then.
So pay tribute to this performer, director and all-around daredevil by Neflixing one of the movies above. You'll discover a forgotten jewel in the annals of Hollywood history, who deserves a much bigger role in the mainstream consciousness.
Thanks to www.imdb.com for information that contributed to this post.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Couch Potato Review: Rachel Getting Married
Rachel Getting Married is one of those hybrid films that claims to be independent, but stars Anne Hathaway and is directed by Jonathan Demme (Silence of the Lambs). So I don't know how independent this film actually is. All that aside, Rachel Getting Married is about Kym (Hathaway), a model who has spent the last decade in and out of rehab. The last stint has lasted 9 months, and we the audience get the feeling that Kym is committed to staying clean this time. So does rehab, so she is allowed a weekend out for her sister Rachel's (Rosemarie DeWitt) wedding at the family home in Connecticut. Kym has to deal with the distrust she has in herself, her family's distrust of her, and her sister's desire to have one day for herself where everyone is not worrying about Kym.
Hathaway earns her Oscar nomination here. Her creation of Kym is pitiful, maddeningly frustrating, self-centered, self-loathing, funny, wounded, trouble-making, and just all-around complicated. Considering Hathaway isn't even 30 yet, and has only really had comic, light-as-souffle roles in the past, this is a major achievement in her career. Her highlight is the "Shiva the Destroyer" toast, a painfully embarrassing situation that does not go at all as Kym hopes. Dewitt also gives a very subtle performance as Rachel, who in the one hand loves her sister and want to her to recover, but on the other hand wants the attention due to her as a bride. This is the most frustrating part of the film, and the most realistic. The film really does capture the sheer frustration of a family in this crisis of addiction and recovery, where the addict is in a constant battle with himself or herself to not use again, so it is difficult for that person to see past his or her own needs. But for a wedding, he or she must.
Now for the bad news. The film is shot documentary style, on hand-held cameras with natural light and didactic music on the commune-like house and land. Not inherently a problem, unless you're prone to motion-sickness and don't like violin. It gives the film a feel of an extended episode of Intervention. The movie does have some clever cover for some of its budget issues, like having "wedding helpers" who are so devoted to the bride, they do all the weding stuff, like build tents, bake, string up lights, etc. In the rain. So yeah, the budget was low. But the thing that annoyed BackseatDirector the most was the wedding itself. Now, this is a fantastic example of film artifice. How does a Jewish girl, marrying an African-American man, decide to have an Indian-themed wedding (complete with saris and chrysanthemums), with a minister, that has samba dancers at the reception? Is it just me, or does that seem a little much? A tad unrealistic, if you will. And these decisions are never explained, but everyone seems to love and go with it. Maybe you had to be there, but I was just annoyed to pieces by how unrealistic it was. Anything that makes me say, aloud, "who does that?" is not a good sign.
Overall, Rachel Getting Married is an interesting character study, but I'll skip the wedding.
(Rated R for language and brief sexuality. They forgot to add brief violence.)
Hathaway earns her Oscar nomination here. Her creation of Kym is pitiful, maddeningly frustrating, self-centered, self-loathing, funny, wounded, trouble-making, and just all-around complicated. Considering Hathaway isn't even 30 yet, and has only really had comic, light-as-souffle roles in the past, this is a major achievement in her career. Her highlight is the "Shiva the Destroyer" toast, a painfully embarrassing situation that does not go at all as Kym hopes. Dewitt also gives a very subtle performance as Rachel, who in the one hand loves her sister and want to her to recover, but on the other hand wants the attention due to her as a bride. This is the most frustrating part of the film, and the most realistic. The film really does capture the sheer frustration of a family in this crisis of addiction and recovery, where the addict is in a constant battle with himself or herself to not use again, so it is difficult for that person to see past his or her own needs. But for a wedding, he or she must.
Now for the bad news. The film is shot documentary style, on hand-held cameras with natural light and didactic music on the commune-like house and land. Not inherently a problem, unless you're prone to motion-sickness and don't like violin. It gives the film a feel of an extended episode of Intervention. The movie does have some clever cover for some of its budget issues, like having "wedding helpers" who are so devoted to the bride, they do all the weding stuff, like build tents, bake, string up lights, etc. In the rain. So yeah, the budget was low. But the thing that annoyed BackseatDirector the most was the wedding itself. Now, this is a fantastic example of film artifice. How does a Jewish girl, marrying an African-American man, decide to have an Indian-themed wedding (complete with saris and chrysanthemums), with a minister, that has samba dancers at the reception? Is it just me, or does that seem a little much? A tad unrealistic, if you will. And these decisions are never explained, but everyone seems to love and go with it. Maybe you had to be there, but I was just annoyed to pieces by how unrealistic it was. Anything that makes me say, aloud, "who does that?" is not a good sign.
Overall, Rachel Getting Married is an interesting character study, but I'll skip the wedding.
(Rated R for language and brief sexuality. They forgot to add brief violence.)
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Reconsidering 300
I was watching 300 on TV the other night. It's by no means my favorite movie. The first time I saw it was in the theater, on a date. It was my pick. I remember kind of enjoying it, but thinking it was strange. I'd never read the graphic novel before (or any graphic novel), but was familiar with the works of Frank Miller because I had seen Sin City two years before. On another date. Again, my pick.
My dubious date-movie tastes aside, watching 300 again two years later was a bit of an eye-opener. I openly admit I'm difficult to impress in the mainstream cinema. I'm the kind of gal who sits around and watches moody French dramas. And enjoys them! Action, male-oriented movies aren't exactly my glass of Merlot. And this one is right in that mold. Based on a graphic novel? Strike one. Lots of blood and gore? Strike two. Mangling of history, a passion of mine? Strike three. 300 wasn't just the number of Spartans, it was about the movie's success average with me. The next time I saw it was fleetingly in a hotel room a couple of nights before my brother's wedding. Tired, and in the presence of a comfy hotel bed? Goodbye, 300. Needless to say, I'd done a thorough job of dismissing this movie. Sparta, it wasn't.
Until a few nights ago. With nothing else on, and work looming in the morning, it ended at a good time for me to catch a few zzzs. Why not, I figured. I was pleasantly surprised, because I was enjoying the movie more than I remembered.
By all accounts, this movie shouldn't work. It requires melodramatic acting of unrealistic dialogue that went out of fashion in the movies with the birth of the Method movement in the late 50's. Brando would object. It has fairly ridiculous combinations of monsters, a second-cousin hunchback of Quasimodo, and Xerxes, who needs to grow some real eyebrows. It has lots of bearded, sweaty, shirtless men shouting at each other. I'm not actually complaining about that last one. It's a strange conglomeration of history (or something that once resembled the true story), epic storytelling, propaganda, and bloodlust. Despite the historical story, it is shot in a completely computer-generated world to remain true to the graphic-novel roots, and MTV music-video stylized fighting. But it was wildly successful, and was winning me over one spear-thrust at a time. Why does it work?
Because there is nothing out there quite like it. It works because though it's a strange patchwork of influences, it seems to all blend together seamlessly. It just does, and we know it shouldn't. But it does. And if you really want to get into it, it shows the power of the epic. Epics, long out of literary fashion, depict the story of a hero as a means of entertainment and inspiration. The epic utilizes a lot of elements that nowadays would get hysterical laughter from audiences: interference of gods, hideous monsters, and larger-than-life heroes who always seem to know what to do, while still winning over that sexy sea-nymph and saving the day. 300 works not just because it's a unique addition to cinema, but because it embraces society's need for an epic, that larger-than-reality tale that allows us to escape our own lives and see something BIG accomplished, even if it's not necessarily that realistic. 300 is the first film in a long time that fulfills that need successfully. C'mon, we've all seen Troy, and the traditional epic movie is no longer relevant in our present society (as BackseatDirector sheds a tear). 300 fills the need, but in a way that our current artistic tastes can appreciate.
So I'm popping the popcorn. THIS IS SPARTA!
My dubious date-movie tastes aside, watching 300 again two years later was a bit of an eye-opener. I openly admit I'm difficult to impress in the mainstream cinema. I'm the kind of gal who sits around and watches moody French dramas. And enjoys them! Action, male-oriented movies aren't exactly my glass of Merlot. And this one is right in that mold. Based on a graphic novel? Strike one. Lots of blood and gore? Strike two. Mangling of history, a passion of mine? Strike three. 300 wasn't just the number of Spartans, it was about the movie's success average with me. The next time I saw it was fleetingly in a hotel room a couple of nights before my brother's wedding. Tired, and in the presence of a comfy hotel bed? Goodbye, 300. Needless to say, I'd done a thorough job of dismissing this movie. Sparta, it wasn't.
Until a few nights ago. With nothing else on, and work looming in the morning, it ended at a good time for me to catch a few zzzs. Why not, I figured. I was pleasantly surprised, because I was enjoying the movie more than I remembered.
By all accounts, this movie shouldn't work. It requires melodramatic acting of unrealistic dialogue that went out of fashion in the movies with the birth of the Method movement in the late 50's. Brando would object. It has fairly ridiculous combinations of monsters, a second-cousin hunchback of Quasimodo, and Xerxes, who needs to grow some real eyebrows. It has lots of bearded, sweaty, shirtless men shouting at each other. I'm not actually complaining about that last one. It's a strange conglomeration of history (or something that once resembled the true story), epic storytelling, propaganda, and bloodlust. Despite the historical story, it is shot in a completely computer-generated world to remain true to the graphic-novel roots, and MTV music-video stylized fighting. But it was wildly successful, and was winning me over one spear-thrust at a time. Why does it work?
Because there is nothing out there quite like it. It works because though it's a strange patchwork of influences, it seems to all blend together seamlessly. It just does, and we know it shouldn't. But it does. And if you really want to get into it, it shows the power of the epic. Epics, long out of literary fashion, depict the story of a hero as a means of entertainment and inspiration. The epic utilizes a lot of elements that nowadays would get hysterical laughter from audiences: interference of gods, hideous monsters, and larger-than-life heroes who always seem to know what to do, while still winning over that sexy sea-nymph and saving the day. 300 works not just because it's a unique addition to cinema, but because it embraces society's need for an epic, that larger-than-reality tale that allows us to escape our own lives and see something BIG accomplished, even if it's not necessarily that realistic. 300 is the first film in a long time that fulfills that need successfully. C'mon, we've all seen Troy, and the traditional epic movie is no longer relevant in our present society (as BackseatDirector sheds a tear). 300 fills the need, but in a way that our current artistic tastes can appreciate.
So I'm popping the popcorn. THIS IS SPARTA!
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Couch Potato Review: Il y a longtemps que je t'aime
I don't make a lot of money. Movies in the theater are now almost criminally expensive. I recently did go to a film at 3:15 in the afternoon and they were charging the evening price. Since when the matinee, my former saving grace, go the way of the dodo? And why is it so difficult to access foreign films? Alas, those rants are for other posts.
So I humbly present to you a Couch Potato Review. These will be virtually pointless reviews, if you're looking for up-to-the minute films. The movies reviewed here would have come out months and sometimes years before I saw it. However, since going to the theater is becoming less and less common (cue sarcastic thank you high prices, children in R-rated films and cell phones, and a genuine thank you to Netflix), I like to think that my reviews are actually a bit timelier than opening-day reviews. I warn you, however, that my taste is eclectic, and you'll see some pretty random stuff under Couch Potato Reviews, because most of it is coming from my current Netflix queue. But onto the good stuff.
Il y a longtemps que je t'aime* (I've Loved You So Long) is a French film that was released last year and was nominated for the Golden Globe for Best Foreign Film. This film gained some attention in the US due to its leading lady, Kristen Scott Thomas, who is also a prominent English-language actress (you may remember her from her Oscar-nominated role in 1996's The English Patient, 2001's Gosford Park or this year's Confessions of a Shopaholic). Her performance is in complete, flawless French, and if I didn't know her already, I would have been stunned to learn she wasn't French.
All stunning of myself aside, le film is about a woman named Juliette (Thomas) who has just been released from prison after serving 15 years, and her attempts to reintegrate into society and reconcile with her sister, Lea (Elsa Zyberstein), who was brainwashed by their parents into forgetting her and their memories together. Juliette, a highly educated woman, must face checking into parole offices, searching for a job from someone who'd be willing to hire her, and gaining trust from her sister's husband, who did not know her before the crime.
This film is very French in style, and the plot unfolds like a good novel: unhurried, but still relevant, filled with little peaks and vallies that intrigue and interest, but don't expect the plot to move quickly. French (or European) cinema doesn't always spell things out for the audience, so the viewer of this film must be patient. The exploration of a criminal's return into society is not entirely new to cinema (see: The Woodsman (2004), or any film version of Les Miserables), but this film in particular draws a fine portrait of the emotional struggle Juliette and others like her face, and what their families face. And this film is a rich, rewarding experience. The moody cinematography and unshowy camera work create the proper tone, but the focus is all on dramatic performances. Thomas's performance easily outshines everyone else's, and I thought Zyberstein's performance didn't hold up next to her's when they performed together. Thomas as an actress has always understood stillness, silence and letting the eyes speak volumes, and she's in fine form here. The film also packs an emotional punch as one becomes more and more attached to Juliette and more invested in her survival outside prison, and learn more about the crime itself.
My final word: Yes.
(Rated PG-13 for thematic elements and smoking. No really. I didn't make that last one up. They make that part of the ratings system now.)
*Available in English language track, or French track with English subtitles. BackseatDirector will always review foreign language films on the original language track with English subtitles to view the original performance, so I cannot comment on the quality of dubbing. But friends don't let friends watch bad dubbing, so beware.
So I humbly present to you a Couch Potato Review. These will be virtually pointless reviews, if you're looking for up-to-the minute films. The movies reviewed here would have come out months and sometimes years before I saw it. However, since going to the theater is becoming less and less common (cue sarcastic thank you high prices, children in R-rated films and cell phones, and a genuine thank you to Netflix), I like to think that my reviews are actually a bit timelier than opening-day reviews. I warn you, however, that my taste is eclectic, and you'll see some pretty random stuff under Couch Potato Reviews, because most of it is coming from my current Netflix queue. But onto the good stuff.
Il y a longtemps que je t'aime* (I've Loved You So Long) is a French film that was released last year and was nominated for the Golden Globe for Best Foreign Film. This film gained some attention in the US due to its leading lady, Kristen Scott Thomas, who is also a prominent English-language actress (you may remember her from her Oscar-nominated role in 1996's The English Patient, 2001's Gosford Park or this year's Confessions of a Shopaholic). Her performance is in complete, flawless French, and if I didn't know her already, I would have been stunned to learn she wasn't French.
All stunning of myself aside, le film is about a woman named Juliette (Thomas) who has just been released from prison after serving 15 years, and her attempts to reintegrate into society and reconcile with her sister, Lea (Elsa Zyberstein), who was brainwashed by their parents into forgetting her and their memories together. Juliette, a highly educated woman, must face checking into parole offices, searching for a job from someone who'd be willing to hire her, and gaining trust from her sister's husband, who did not know her before the crime.
This film is very French in style, and the plot unfolds like a good novel: unhurried, but still relevant, filled with little peaks and vallies that intrigue and interest, but don't expect the plot to move quickly. French (or European) cinema doesn't always spell things out for the audience, so the viewer of this film must be patient. The exploration of a criminal's return into society is not entirely new to cinema (see: The Woodsman (2004), or any film version of Les Miserables), but this film in particular draws a fine portrait of the emotional struggle Juliette and others like her face, and what their families face. And this film is a rich, rewarding experience. The moody cinematography and unshowy camera work create the proper tone, but the focus is all on dramatic performances. Thomas's performance easily outshines everyone else's, and I thought Zyberstein's performance didn't hold up next to her's when they performed together. Thomas as an actress has always understood stillness, silence and letting the eyes speak volumes, and she's in fine form here. The film also packs an emotional punch as one becomes more and more attached to Juliette and more invested in her survival outside prison, and learn more about the crime itself.
My final word: Yes.
(Rated PG-13 for thematic elements and smoking. No really. I didn't make that last one up. They make that part of the ratings system now.)
*Available in English language track, or French track with English subtitles. BackseatDirector will always review foreign language films on the original language track with English subtitles to view the original performance, so I cannot comment on the quality of dubbing. But friends don't let friends watch bad dubbing, so beware.
R.I.P. Patrick Swayze
It is with sadness we learned of the passing with Patrick Swayze from pancreatic cancer. It's not just sad that he had cancer, of course, but 57 is still so young. It's a shame and a loss.
Here in BackseatDirectorLand, I like to reflect on loss by sharing a few memories I have of the deceased. With Patrick Swayze, I remember as a child, loving his dance moves in Dirty Dancing, though not quite getting what the movie was about. I remember him singing "She's Like the Wind" on the now-considered-seminal soundtrack as we drove to some vacation or other. I remember the threesome between himself, Demi Moore, and some clay in Ghost, one of the first sex scenes I ever saw. I remember seeing the trailer for To Wong Foo: Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar, and thinking "What an ugly woman." I now remember I still haven't seen Point Break all the way through.
What I also remember is his less-known, later work. If you didn't catch his small, but noticeable turn as a motivational speaker in the cult classic Donnie Darko, you're missing some of his finest work. His last major project was a T.V. show called The Beast, where he looked noticeably haggard, because he was already sick. This will be added to my Netflix queue. He reportedly worked without pain meds, and since cancer is not known as a warm, cuddly disease, this is an accomplishment which, to me, wipes out everything I've mentioned before. Bravery and graciousness in the face of mortality is rarely found, and I think Swayze made it look easy.
That's what I'll remember him for, too.
Here in BackseatDirectorLand, I like to reflect on loss by sharing a few memories I have of the deceased. With Patrick Swayze, I remember as a child, loving his dance moves in Dirty Dancing, though not quite getting what the movie was about. I remember him singing "She's Like the Wind" on the now-considered-seminal soundtrack as we drove to some vacation or other. I remember the threesome between himself, Demi Moore, and some clay in Ghost, one of the first sex scenes I ever saw. I remember seeing the trailer for To Wong Foo: Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar, and thinking "What an ugly woman." I now remember I still haven't seen Point Break all the way through.
What I also remember is his less-known, later work. If you didn't catch his small, but noticeable turn as a motivational speaker in the cult classic Donnie Darko, you're missing some of his finest work. His last major project was a T.V. show called The Beast, where he looked noticeably haggard, because he was already sick. This will be added to my Netflix queue. He reportedly worked without pain meds, and since cancer is not known as a warm, cuddly disease, this is an accomplishment which, to me, wipes out everything I've mentioned before. Bravery and graciousness in the face of mortality is rarely found, and I think Swayze made it look easy.
That's what I'll remember him for, too.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Why I Love Edgar Wright (and you should too!)
Those of you not so familiar with the latest British cinema may not be familiar with Mr. Edgar Wright. If you call yourself a cinephile, shame on you, and by-the-by, you're totally missing out. Those of you who already know of him know of his greatness. I'm here to convince the rest of you. Here a just a few reasons you need to love Wright:
1) "Spaced." Late '90s British T.V. brilliance. I was a bit of a youngster when "Spaced" was on the air, but the hilarity lives on. The brilliant blend of pop culture, absurdism and the fine writing of Simon Pegg and Jessica Stevenson Hynes all combine into one awesome T.V. show. However, it's Edgar Wright's distinctive directing style of camerawork (especially whip-pans) that makes you feel like you're viewing something special. Each episode feels like a mini-movie, and was a harbinger of the great things to come.
2) "Shaun of the Dead." If you haven't caught this yet, you must. This is where Wright and writing partner Pegg really shine as both writers and in their respective roles. This film creation is too smart and loving to be a parody, too original to be a complete homage. And it's hilarious, which if you think about it, is quite a feat.
3) "Hot Fuzz." This film, the latest from Wright, is again that loving parody/homage genre only this time of action and buddy-cop films. (If you've seen anything directed by Tony Scott or Michael Bay, you can appreciate this.) Again, the writing is top notch, and you must be doing something right (no pun intended) if you can assemble that cast! Not to mention they have a high speed chase on a British country lane.
4) "Don't" trailer. A mini-creation, this was part of the grossly misunderstood "Grindhouse" package. A fine parody/homage (they really need to name this new genre) of cheesy B-horror films. Again, with the great balance of wit and genuine originality, it makes me want to see the full film, and it's 2 minutes long!
5) The Scott Pilgrim vs. the World blog. Since January 1st, Wright has been doing a picture a day blog of both his ordinary life, and work on his latest project, due out in 2010. This not only gives rabid Scott Pilgrim fans something to look forward to, but also a glimpse of a generous director who actually seems to like his fans.
And you gotta love that.
1) "Spaced." Late '90s British T.V. brilliance. I was a bit of a youngster when "Spaced" was on the air, but the hilarity lives on. The brilliant blend of pop culture, absurdism and the fine writing of Simon Pegg and Jessica Stevenson Hynes all combine into one awesome T.V. show. However, it's Edgar Wright's distinctive directing style of camerawork (especially whip-pans) that makes you feel like you're viewing something special. Each episode feels like a mini-movie, and was a harbinger of the great things to come.
2) "Shaun of the Dead." If you haven't caught this yet, you must. This is where Wright and writing partner Pegg really shine as both writers and in their respective roles. This film creation is too smart and loving to be a parody, too original to be a complete homage. And it's hilarious, which if you think about it, is quite a feat.
3) "Hot Fuzz." This film, the latest from Wright, is again that loving parody/homage genre only this time of action and buddy-cop films. (If you've seen anything directed by Tony Scott or Michael Bay, you can appreciate this.) Again, the writing is top notch, and you must be doing something right (no pun intended) if you can assemble that cast! Not to mention they have a high speed chase on a British country lane.
4) "Don't" trailer. A mini-creation, this was part of the grossly misunderstood "Grindhouse" package. A fine parody/homage (they really need to name this new genre) of cheesy B-horror films. Again, with the great balance of wit and genuine originality, it makes me want to see the full film, and it's 2 minutes long!
5) The Scott Pilgrim vs. the World blog. Since January 1st, Wright has been doing a picture a day blog of both his ordinary life, and work on his latest project, due out in 2010. This not only gives rabid Scott Pilgrim fans something to look forward to, but also a glimpse of a generous director who actually seems to like his fans.
And you gotta love that.
First Entry
Well, hello everyone. This is not my first foray into blogging (Livejournal 2002), but this is the first time I've pursued a blog that had a specific focus.
As most of you know, I'm a rabid, can't-live-without-them movie fan, and also I enjoy writing. So I figured, why not combine my two loves into something I can call my own? A stroke of genius, I tell you.
So this is my movie-specific, stuff rolling around my head and totally geeky contribution to the world of cinema. Feel free to comment, either to praise me to the sky, or tell me what an idiot I am. Either will do. :)
As most of you know, I'm a rabid, can't-live-without-them movie fan, and also I enjoy writing. So I figured, why not combine my two loves into something I can call my own? A stroke of genius, I tell you.
So this is my movie-specific, stuff rolling around my head and totally geeky contribution to the world of cinema. Feel free to comment, either to praise me to the sky, or tell me what an idiot I am. Either will do. :)
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