Spoorloos

I have seen a lot of “horror” films and I am the first to admit that they scare the crap out of me... Some are also really bad. Those, I think, should be technically considered comedy. Movies like Descent scare me without my eyes even being open.

When I was very young I saw almost the entire Halloween series and I was completely convinced that it was a regular occurrence for men in masks to chase people around with a ridiculous knife. I would have had nightmares for days if I had done any sleeping at all.

There are so many different kinds of horror films and I am scared by most of them. I would definitely consider The Vanishing a horror film. Raymond is made to seem like a totally normal guy that has a family and works really hard to interact with them and society. As the scenes go on, you begin to learn subtle things about Raymond that makes him seem completely mentally unstable. Although he does not seem like a supernatural creature or a monster, Raymond has the ability to disregard societal conventions and the value of human life and commit disgusting acts. The disparity between his public persona and his terrifying private one makes it seem like anyone could secretly be this big of a monster.

When Raymond is telling Rex about the abduction of Saskia and they flashback to the moment when he is talking to her, I felt desperate and hopeless as she was talking to him about his keychain. I knew what was going to happen. I wanted her to turn away, I wanted him to change his mind, and I wanted to know why he was choosing to commit such a heinous act. When he chloroformed her, there was real terror in her eyes. The close up shots of the two of them put me inside of the car. I felt just as helpless as Saskia was and was terrified. 

The extent of obsession presented by Rex is also completely horrifying. He is the “normal” character in the film. He represents the loving companion that has had his love ripped tragically away from him. He is helpless and hopeless. As the film goes on, he is compared to Raymond and his character becomes more and more obsessed with finding out about Saskia’s disappearance. By the end of the film he is willing to condemn himself to death in order to learn the truth. This is pretty extreme. The way in which he dies is intense and horrifying and imagining that the same was done to Saskia makes it even more intense.

Raymond and Rex’s characters are so similar and this is a factor that makes the movie horrific. Raymond is always in control, even when Rex is beating him up. Raymond is always rational, although insane and Rex is very irrational although his actions are always those of a sane individual. The fear of being controlled by someone that is a sociopath is a more realistic fear than the fear of a supernatural monster and gore.

This film was definitely highly psychological and conceptually horrific. I’m terrified of the night I have a dream about a golden egg.

Killer of Sheep

This movie was difficult for me on so many levels.  Wrong movie, for the wrong week.

LOVE ME.

First of all, a lifelong vegetarian with a stomach bug should never watch a movie entitled Killer of Sheep. I needed nothing more to solidify the next 20 years of vegetarianism than images of sheep heads getting split open. At least Charles Burnett didn't pull a PETA and put it in full color and high definition. Youch.

This movie was pretty mundane. There was a sense of hopelessness, like nothing was going to change. There was a strong sense of longing from all the characters- the wife and mother longs for the attention of her husband who longs for the opportunity for a big break, the boy who longs for the respect and power that comes with being a man, and the girl who longs for the attention of her father. The entire time I was simply waiting for something to break the constrains of tightly shot frames.

In the end, nothing really happened. They got a flat tire. It rained. They smiled. He worked.

(Critique of the meaning behind the dog mask)

This film was difficult because Hollywood has trained me to expect certain things from films. They are meant to be narratives in the sense that they have a beginning, a middle, and an ending. The quality of the film is judged by the length of the three and the strength of the climax.

This film was difficult because I have been trained to think certain things about films about family life. There is always some seemingly insurmountable question that either tears the traditional confines of family apart or makes them even stronger.

This film was difficult because I have been trained to see black people in very few roles (black actors make up roughly 15% of the actors in film and TV) especially in all the leading roles of a film. This film is older than the statistic, but this film is different than even the most progressive stories told today.

The reason I truly struggled with this film so much wasn't because the story was mundane and it definitely wasn't because the cinematography or the characters (both were stellar, RIP sheep). Killer of Sheep showed me a little too much real. It made me uncomfortable. I cringed at the idea that this was made almost 40 years ago. This film didn't have a happy ending. This isn't some fuddy-duddy Love & Basketball movie were everyone is successful and falls in love and blah blah blah. There is no happy ending to the conversation this film has started yet either.

This family hurts sometimes. It is stressed and tired and hopeless, but there are small moments when that can be forgotten before the next day at work starts. The entire film was really dragging on for me until the scene at the very end when Stan is at work. I have felt that almost every working moment of my life. Coming home to a messy apartment and a screaming child that wants food and juice and the cat dug up a plant and the puppy pissed on the floor and I have to make dinner and wash my work clothes, but then there's the perfect moment when I get a child's kiss on the nose when everything is silent. It could be raining. I could have a flat. It doesn't matter because the next day I have to go back to work. Whomp, whomp. That's the true story of a working class family life.

One of the most surface things that we forget about film is that there is no path that it needs to be on. It is not art just because it is in the "proper" or expected order. This film is as solid as the most narrative Caravaggio painting, the most mundane Toulouse Lautrec drawing, or the most vivid Dutch still life. To tell a story you only need a single moment and everything else can be filled in based off the historical context. Killer of Sheep gave us a moment in the lives of a family and everything else is for us to figure out. Compelling? Totally.

This movie was difficult to watch, but it was good. There was no glorified Hollywood drama about what its like to be a black man or a family man. There's no Foxy Brown there to save the day. Thankfully this was a dose of real life perspective that can keep an inch of our reality in check mode.

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

I have a long running history with this film. When we spent the weekends with my dad as a kid, he use to watch the most inappropriate movies. You know, the normal child's movies: Saving Private Ryan, The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, anything with guns and guts. So nostalgic.

Needless to say, Clint Eastwood haunted my dreams, until I was at least twelve.  He is portrayed as being somehow superior.  He is above the law. He is stronger than his adversaries. He is fearless and seems virtually immortal. Clint Eastwood's characters have embodied the ultimate man.

Eastwood in The Outlaw Josey Wales = TOO MUCH MAN

As the Man with No Name (Blondie), he is emotionless, even in times of great struggle (trudging through the desert without water for miles) and gives no signs of emotional weakness even when his mortal body is failing him. He always finds his way out of tough moments with the most flawless reactions (mostly bad-ass one liners) as if he had been planning his escape the entire time.

Clint Eastwood's characters are the man of all men.  They are frequently mean for the sake of being mean, superior to those around them and constantly prove this through their silent and competitive (survival of the fittest) nature. He doesn't need to entertain other's feelings or circumstance and doesn't think twice about the law in regards to himself.  He is the aura of all bad-assery that has a tiny soft side somewhere in his heart.

There is very little variation between the Clint Eastwood brand and Clint Eastwood the person as evident by his lifetime achievements of multiple baby mamas, a collection of Academy Awards, a mean golf swing, and an always furrowed brow.  His politics leave little room for compassion and he has no time for useless women in his life (he goes through them like crappy Dunkin' Donut's napkins). It's unclear whether his personality informed his career decisions or whether the myth of Clint Eastwood was even too much for his mortal self to bear.

Her

POSSIBLE SPOILER ALERT?


Last Saturday, Elizabeth and I went and saw Her at the Esquire. See. Look at us.

We are best friends.

This was a totally pre-planned Saturday night activity, and we just so happen to be lucky enough to get extra credit.  Sweet.

So, first of all, I feel I should get all of my emotions about Spike Jonze out of the way. SO MANY FEEL GOODS. 

Also, I need to get my emotions out of the way for Scarlett Johansson. DYING EVERYWHERE WITH FEEL GOODS.

Then there's Rooney Mara, Rooney Mara, Rooney Mara, Rooney Mara.

And, last (and least), I also have lots of feel goods for Joaquin Phoenix (that 'stache, though/ those pants, though).

Her was so good.  I enjoyed every part of it.  The awkward pants and cat porn, the overly saturated urbanscapes, the empty bookshelves, the tea bag. Spike Jonze is seriously my hero.  

I came out of the theatre with my mind tangled up like limp spaghetti and I still don't even know where to begin other than I am never seeing another Jonze movie in theatres ever again.  I needed to be in the comfort of my own messy apartment to fully absorb everything.  I want to watch it again and again. 

The irony between how real the relationship between Theodore and Samantha, his operating system, was unbearable and so uncanny in regards to the relationships we have online, both with each other and with ourselves.  This movie was able to take a critical look at the nature of our relationships.  By comparing Theodore's failed relationship with his human companion and his relationship with his OS, Jonze was able to allow us to understand the importance of human interaction and question the role that technology plays in our own relationships (this was also pointed out with Theodore's job of writing "Hand Written Letters").  The ridiculousness of the "dates" that Theodore and Samantha went on were emphasized by the overly exposed days and the flashy lights of the night, while the flashbacks of moments between Theodore and his ex-wife seemed so real.  You could feel the tension between them.  

The scene where Theodore and Catherine were having an argument (about money, maybe? I am too enthralled with the visuals of the scene to remember the relevance of the fight) seemed so incredibly familiar.  Everything about the scene could have been a moment from anyone's past.  Theodore wore stark white boxer shorts that were cocked a bit to the side and Catherine drank hot tea from a ceramic glass and the tea bag hung loosely over the edge of the cup.  The tension in the room was so strong and the situation so perfectly realistic. 

The film also raises strong questions about our ability to perceive information, our rate of perception, and the value we place on that information, or, rather, knowledge.  By enabling us to feel inferior in capacity to the OS and their ability to access information within milliseconds, Jonze makes us question our intelligence as a species and the roles that our technology plays as an aid or a hindrance on our quest to become better at literally everything.  

Something in the movie that made me particularly anxious was Theodore's apartment.  There was so much emphasis put on his devices (computer, video game, cell phone) and outside of his virtual reality his life was completely bare.  I understand that the scarcity was meant to aid in the development of his character, to show that he was just barely existing as a human being and functioning with the least amount of social interaction.  I found it incredibly disturbing that he had an entire wall of bookshelves, but not one book.  I don't think that it is old fashioned to believe in the power of a good book, nor is it old fashioned to rely on the knowledge of print.  I think that Jonze was showing how little the future masses will rely on the archive of knowledge that we can access through physical existence.  Books will become clutter because all the knowledge we need can be found through our OS.  The reason I found this disturbing, was because in the end of the film (WARNING MINOR SPOILER ALERT), the OS's became unreliable.  We (future us) put all our eggs in one basket.  We occupied our minds with too many unreasonable and unnecessary things (video games) and relied on some unseen power for real knowledge.  Our ability to archive thoughts, memories, ideas, knowledge is decreasing with the increased use of technology as a crutch.  

I can't go on anymore, I'm starting to get frustrated with how much we suck at life.  

Her was amazing. Go see it. THE END.

Awara

http://www.covershut.com/cover-tags/Awaara-1951.html

Bollywood cinema is not completely new to me.  I have been exposed to some of the culture surrounding Bollywood, specifically the musical aspect of it from a childhood friend.  I wasn't at all surprised when there was randomly a hundred women dancing strangely through the hills.

http://www.popscreen.com/v/6TAHw/Ghar-aaya-mera-pardesi-Awara1951

Whether or not Awara is a musical is questionable.  I suppose it depends on by whose terms we are asking.  American cinema very rarely has choreographed musical numbers unless it is a musical.  You wouldn't just see people break out into elaborate synchronized dance moves in The Notebook (that's pretty melodramatic right?), but you would in Grease, and the songs would further the plot or character development.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P6z-bmG6YeE

In Bollywood films, it seems pretty typical to have fantastic musical numbers in the middle of a scene.  There is nothing special about Raj sharing a little jig with the audience to inform us that he's a tramp, when it comes to Bollywood cinema.  If the judge would have sentenced him to three years in prison in the middle of doing the splits and belting some falsetto, then there would be more evidence backing it as a musical.  As it is I don't think the scenes were pivotal enough in the development of the plot or of the characters to take it from just normal Bollywood, to straight up musical splendor.

To our eyes, Awara may seem like a musical, but the frequency of songs are not convincing enough and do not come at critical enough moments in the plot to convince me that it is worthy of the genre of musical.

http://staticmass.net/world/awara-1951-movie-review/

p.s.

SO MANY ANGRIES IN THIS SCENE! AH!

p.p.s.

Caps lock means I yelled that and, also, probably yelled at the movie.