Forgotten Legends

Film history is so massive, that even if you devote a lot of time to journeying through it, it is hard to even scratch the surface. For me, like most other people, many films and directors slip under the radar. Inspired by not too long ago seeing my first Kurosawa film Derzu Uzala (1974), I thought it was time to check out a few films directed by legends who had completely passed me by. Here are my first encounters with three greats of cinema, which turn out to be more interesting that I had perhaps expected, but definitely not for the reasons I was expecting.

Of the three great names of American silent cinema that still reign today, only one traded in drama– D.W. Griffith. Griffith is probably best known for the infamous Civil War, Klu Klux Klan promoting, The Birth of a Nation (1915). Throughout the silent era his productions also pushed the boundaries of scope, in relation to length of films, cost and scale of sets. Broken Blossoms (1919) represents something of a departure from that, being essentially a small-scale tale. And this is the film I chose to be my first exposure to Griffith. As a fan of silent film, and having heard so much about the greatness of his work, to say I was super excited to see this would be an understatement. Similarly, to say that I was grossly underwhelmed would also be an understatement.

The film starts promisingly, with a prologue of sorts set in China. These scenes look excellent and authentic, they made me wonder for a while if they were actually shot on location. They are also promising in that they portray an un-judgemental portrayal of China, the Chinese and Buddhism. Of course, it is impossible to judge the racial standards of a film made 90 years ago using today’s standards. Even so, from this early beginning, unfortunately the caricaturing of the Asian characters is disappointing. The most prominent of them is Yellow Man (you never get told his name, although it is on his shopfront) played by Richard Barthelmess. Richard Barthelmess is not a very Chinese sounding name. Which is apt, because he is not Chinese. Having an American play the main Chinese character in the film is a massive let down. Not just because it is offensive these days, but because it does away with virtually all the authenticity that Griffith has built up in the opening scenes. Barthelmess’ Yellow Man sets out for England in an attempt to spread the peaceful message of Buddhism to that country, because they are essentially violent fiends who need it. But the next time we meet Yellow Man, he has apparently failed in that mission, with his “youthful dreams [having] come to wreck against the sordid realities of life”, and he now works as a disillusioned, opium smoking shopkeeper.

After introducing Yellow Man and his back-story, the film shifts focus to introduce the audience to young Lucy, played by Lillian Gish; and her father, the prize-fighter Battling Burrows played by Donald Crisp. These two provide the best performances in the film. Crisp is perfectively leering and expressive as the violent father, whilst Gish is truly fantastic in a difficult role. She is essentially a victim, and making it even more difficult, she is one of an indeterminable age. The father-daughter relationship is established, with Burrows being physically abusive toward his daughter. The scenes of him attacking Lucy are the film’s most affecting, clearly showing off Griffith’s ability. But the issue in this early part of the film is that not much happens. It meanders on and on. It is not until the film is half over that Yellow Man and Lucy finally meet, which is when the narrative finally actually kicks into gear (but even here not a whole lot happens) with Lucy taking refuge in the Yellow Man’s shop. This lopsided narrative is a fatal flaw of the film for me. It took so long for anything to really occur story wise that by the time it did, I didn’t care. And as mentioned, all the interesting authenticity Griffith builds up disappears. Even once Yellow Man has come to London, Griffith seems to be showing a genuine interest in Asian culture, with opium, musical instruments and dress adding detail. But after about 15 minutes this is all done away with, and all we are left with are generic London locales. For a moment it appears that Griffith is going to establish an interesting, Stephen Crane Maggie: A Girl of the Streets vibe, but this fades into blandness before too long.

I do not want to harp on about the racial aspects of the film. Firstly because I do not want to get bogged down in a discussion of whether or not I should take umbrage with it because of the context the film was made in; and secondly because my opinion of the film transcends this issue. Having said that the film is shrouded in racist terminology and stereotypes. According to the film Yellow Man is sensitive (read wussy) like all Chinese and is often called Chink. At the height of the endearment in their relationship, Lucy affectionately refers to him as “Chinky” You could counter these arguments about racism by pointing to the positive portrayal of Yellow Man, who there is no doubt is the closest thing to a hero that exists in the film. But there is also no doubting that he is still shown to be racially inferior and only looks good in contrast to the piece of scum that Burrows is. I’m not really sure what the critical consensus is to the depiction of race in the film. I think that Griffiths’ is attempting to get across an anti-racist message, the character of Battling Burrows does encompass the sheer illogicality of a racist standpoint. Overall though, for me, these themes were just presented unfortunately and not rammed home enough.

One of the reasons that Griffith is considered such a towering figure of film history is because of his technical proficiency. Much of this is on display in Broken Blossoms, and it is used to differing levels of success. Iris shots are utilised repeatedly, restricting what the audience is able to see. But rather than enhance the atmosphere of the film, the effect is unfortunately just disconcerting. Better employed are a couple of innovative close-ups late in the film which work excellently, building a sense of tension and fear. The editing and shot composition is at times intriguing, but more often than not unremarkable. It is disappointing that scenes where Griffiths’ skills gel are all too rare, such as the exciting boxing bout. Just like his technical skills, the performances that the director elicits are likewise up and down. As Yellow Man, Barthelmess is unimpressive not managing to convey anything other than a blank canvas and inspiring no interest in a character that should be ultra intriguing. Donald Crisp definitely takes the honours in the male acting stakes with his bullying Battling Burrows. But it is the iconic Lillian Gish who delivers the best performance. It is her brilliant performance that imbues the early abuse scenes with their terrifying quality. Given the quality of this performance, it is a shame that the film is so poorly done narratively that it is hard to even muster a sense of caring what happens to Gish’s Lucy. The best example of this is the film’s ending which should be utterly crushing, but is wholly unmoving. It is these two latter performances which provide probably the only highlight of the film for me.

I was so bored watching this, and became increasingly disillusioned whilst doing so. There is just nothing of interest here. No drama, no thematic depth to cling onto and no enjoyment. Griffith was a true cinema pioneer who achieved a great many ‘firsts’ throughout his career. Well, with this film he has just earned himself another one. The first film to earn one of these: 

Verdict: Schooner of Tooheys New 

If you want to check out the film to see if you agree with my summation. Here it is:

Of the three films I was watching for this piece, Frank Capra’s It Happened One Night (1934) was the one I was expecting to enjoy the least. How wrong I was.

The film starts wonderfully with Claudette Colbert’s newly married daughter jumping off a yacht to escape her disapproving father. The problem, as it always is, is that she has married the wrong man. This escape pitches Colbert’s Ellie into a bus trip from Miami to New York, where her path crosses with Clark Gable’s Peter Warne. She is the woman on the run, racing back to her forbidden husband, he’s the out of work reporter wanting the exclusive (Ellie is a forever in the news socialite). The long haul bus trip provides the film’s central narrative thrust, and many of its best moments. Having toiled on the odd long haul bus ride (although nothing nearly as long as this one), I had empathy for the plight of these poor passengers. Capra cleverly displays the joys and more commonly the pains of these kinds of trips with the passengers ranging from kind, to loud, to annoyingly flirtatious. The one major advantage of this trip over my usual Murrays service from Canberra to Sydney is that at one point a live band busts out leading the masses in a sing-along whilst a hipflask is passed around for good measure. Yes! - that’s the kind of bus I wanna ride on.

The film is not about wowing you with the beauty of meticulously constructed scenes. The meticulous construction is instead devoted to the dialogue and jokes which derive from the central relationship. That said when Capra wants to wow you, he definitely can. This is evidenced by a number of the night time scenes including a stunning shot of a river, with the moonlight shimmering off the water. And there is no doubt in general that Capra is a technically proficient director. He nicely edits the film together, keeping it ticking along snappily. Wipe fades, the kind of which would come to populate T.V. sitcoms, are here employed nicely, making one scene flow seamlessly into the next. There is much discussion, predominately through dialogue, of the economic class divide which is the core theme explored in the film. At one point Gable’s Peter retorts that “I have never met a rich man who could piggyback.” For a lot of the film there is derision on his part towards Ellie, as he thinks she is nothing but a spoilt little rich girl. The acts and determinants of both snobbery and reverse-snobbery are also examined.

The two leads deliver fantastic performances (even more notable given the shoot was apparently an unhappy one).  Lillian Gish lookalike Claudette Colbert knocks it out of the park with her wonderful presence, more than matching her more esteemed male colleague. Clark Gable struggles early, mainly because his character is extremely strange tonally. He quite viciously snaps at Ellie with next to know provocation which gets him off on the wrong foot with the audience. But when Gable’s character settles, his acting ability really shines through and he aces both the dramatic and comedic aspects of his character with aplomb in a brilliant performance. The third excellent performance comes from Walter Connolly as Ellie’s Wall St bigwig father who is a crack-up. He delivers both a wonderful performance and encompasses a wonderful character, two very different things. The film benefits from a wonderful script bearing perfectly judged and written dialogue. The dialogue is funny and snappy, imbuing the film with the ‘screwball’ dynamic that Capra was so identifiable with. Every comedy writer should be made to sit and listen to the banter between the leads before writing a feature film script. The film features some pretty overt, forward sexuality in both dialogue and action. The two leads, one a single man, the other a married woman, share a bedroom on a number of overnight stays. The room is divided by the ‘Walls of Jericho’ a tactically hung sheet, but we all know what happened to those walls in the end. I seem to always be mentioning how forward old films are. Maybe movies were just more forward than I expect them to be. Narratively the film builds to an eventual, inevitable emotional confliction. Despite this though, even though you know it is coming, it manages not to feel stale. There is genuine tension as to just how the film will end and character’s true colours (both good ones and bad ones) are laid bare during the final sequences.

Dialogue wise, this is as good as films get. Many scenes rise to iconic status merely through the verbal banter going back and forth between the two leads. Notably these include an in-depth discussion of the art of dunking doughnuts, and another about the art of hitchhiking. This film was just the light, funny tonic I needed after the let down that was my first meeting with D.W. Griffiths. It’s a classic which you should hunt down. 

Verdict: Longneck of Melbourne Bitter 



Jumping further forward in time, and slightly to the east brought me to Andrei Tarkovsky’s Stalker (1979). Unfortunately it also brought me back to the sheer, unmitigated boredom of Broken Blossoms, this time with pretension as an added bonus. I know I’m meant to like this Soviet art-film; Tarkovsky is a favourite of hardcore film buffs worldwide. But all this film brought about in me was the desire to sleep.

The film goes for almost 3 hours. Even the DVD menu on the copy I watched was bloody slow, taking forever for me to be able to select anything. Right from the start, you can see why it takes so long, with the credits announced at a snail’s pace.  There is no dialogue for the first 10 agonising, but beautiful, minutes (I know this because it took me this long to realise I was watching it dubbed and needed to change the settings to subtitled). And this first 10 minutes is symptomatic of the 150 or so that follow it. This is essentially an art film.

I would like to think that I am able to appreciate the merit and ‘art’ in all kinds of film, from Judd Apatow comedy to Marvel comic book flick, to Terrence Malick art house film. But for me, this just dragged. Nothing happened, and just as importantly, it was just not that impressive to look at. In relation to genre/narrative you could say that this is a very strange odd couple (actually threesome) road trip. The film concerns ‘The Zone’, a mysterious place where people who enter generally do not return from. The film’s protagonist is a Stalker, one of the few able to enter this place, and navigate his way out. He is accompanied by an ideologically confused, inspirationless, alcoholic writer and a professor looking to make his name based on what he can learn inside The Zone.

The film is meditative, but seemingly on meaningless or ordinary things, the painstaking preparations for entering the zone for example. Upon entering the zone both sound and cinematography are used to demarcate the zone from what lies outside. The cinematography shifts into colour Wings of Desire (1987) style and the soundtrack becomes filled with industrial buzzes and whistles. The Zone is a place that rumours swirl around, that there is a place in there where wishes come true being one example. Out of the overall blandness I was able to discern a cautionary environmental tale about man’s ability to destroy the zone and some sort of spiritual dimension to the Stalker because he was a Stalker... or something. I may have been asleep when I thought that. Because, even though as far as film reviewing points go it is about as unsubtle and nuanced as it gets, this movie bored the shit out of me. By about an hour in I couldn’t care less about what was happening onscreen and what may possibly happen to the characters populating it. All I could think about was the seemingly interminable amount of time I still had to trudge through. And I did trudge through it, despite the urgings of my girlfriend to just give up on one of my frequent, whining snack breaks. I kept thinking that surely it was going to get better, more engaging. Nope. 

I assume this film is a metaphor for life... probably. At least I assume that was what was with the endless philosophical mumbo-jumbo. I didn’t see any metaphor. All I saw was a film that was unable to hold my attention or interest like no other on this 1001 list with my mind wandering endlessly outside the world of the film. I will grant that the last shot is fucking cool though.  Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. 

Verdict: Schooner of Tooheys New

Progress: 50/1001

Why I Love my Girlfriend - A 1001 post

Obviously I love my girlfriend for many reasons, some even totally unrelated to film. The reason in particular I am writing this piece is because of a simple gesture on behalf of her towards me which I found sweet and touching. When out shopping the other day she saw a DVD that she thought I would be interested in and bought it for me. It was a film that she had not heard of, but she grabbed it for me to watch. Someone buying a DVD may not sound that amazing, but it is nice to know that someone is thinking of you, and for her to buy me something for no real reason at all made me feel good.

But enough of all that, let’s talk about a movie. The film that my girlfriend bought for me was Closely Watched Trains (1967 – It appears there is conjecture over the title’s translation. This is how it is in the 1001 book, my DVD version supplants the word ‘observed’ for ‘watched’). The film is set in Nazi occupied Czechoslovakia toward the end of WWII. Milos is a young man starting his first day at work at a train station. He is excited by this bureaucratic position, him putting his hat on is shot in a borderline lustful slow-mo shot. Throughout almost all of the film, his hat remains on at all times, as a physical symbol of his attachment to his job, a certain inescapability to his responsibilities. However Milos hopes to carry on the family tradition. Not one of hard work and success in the work place. Rather, Milos is the latest in a long line of slackers, who take pride in their ability to do very little work, collect an early pension and get through life with a minimum of effort. This is Milos’ aim in life. His other aim is to lose his virginity and much of the film is concerned with this sexual journey. The film is also a train movie. What is it about trains and film? Running the gamut from Buster Keaton’s The General (1926), to Tony Scott’s Unstoppable (2010) in both vintage and tone, train films have been an ever-present in cinema history. Perhaps there is a sense of the train being an iconic invention for a certain age, just as cinema is and trains also facilitated such dynamism in human movement, dynamism perhaps being a hallmark that film also possesses.

The film drew me in early on, the black and white photography is fresh, crisp and unembellished. It is really quite a joyous, funny film, especially early on in the piece, with humorous double entendres about “shaft bars’ etcetera abounding. I was not expecting a comedy. The cinematography overall seems very modern, encompassing techniques such as the editing together of still photographs to mesmerising effect. There is also a distinctly self-aware voiceover that accompanies the early parts of the film. Closely Observed Trains is a sharp yet subtle satire. It satirises institutions such as the transport system and the mindless minutiae of bureaucracy is also gently mocked. After my recent viewing of Terry Gilliam’s Brazil (1985), it appears that this exploration and satirical view of bureaucracy is another core concern of films throughout the ages, or it’s just that my professional life makes me more attuned to these pot-shots than others. In addition to bureaucracy, the other target of much of the film’s satire is the occupying Germans. The Germans, whilst partially menacing, are also hilariously deluded about their ‘masterful’ tactical withdrawals as they lose the war.

The atmosphere of the film is concocted by the ever-presence of two things – trains and sexually provocative women. In regard to the former, the film joins the tradition of train films already mentioned. They are also a constant reminder of the work that the men must still occasionally attend to and they also bear mysterious gifts each time they arrive at the station. A train arriving at the station could come bearing a hot work colleague, or equally as likely a carriage load of swaggering, sneering German soldiers. A train arriving in the station brings a sense of duty and wariness. On a technical level, the director Jiri Menzel also utilises trains as a linkage between shots. He often cuts from one shot, to a train, to another shot illustrating a change in the geographic or temporal location.

Sexually provocative women are another constant, and Milos revels in lusting after them and their alluring physical charms. He is egged on by a horny colleague who attempts to make Milos something of a sexual protégé in his own image. Despite this Milos, with his natural shyness, is somewhat more innocent in his sexual yearning than the older man who considers himself quit the stud. Vaclav Neckar who plays Milos, has the perfect physical presence to convey this innocent, youthful yearning. In some ways his look and mannerisms are a little reminiscent of Jacques Tati but with more of a forlorn, almost timid edge. There is depth here, as to why exactly Milos so wants to lose his virginity. Is it because he desires a deeper connection with the women who surround him? Or for the sheer reason of physical pleasure? Or is it just because that is what society has told him he should be endlessly attempting to do, in much the same way as contemporary society tells young men the same thing? Whilst a lot of this film is concerned with a quest of sexual enlightenment, American Pie (1999) it is not. The film is concerned with becoming a man, and exploring how intrinsic sex is to manhood. For some reason Milos’ sexual adventures are always interrupted, becoming sexual misadventures. One particular scene brilliantly articulates the awkwardness and hurt as well as the intimidation factor of youthful sexual encounters. The words “premature ejaculation” are repeated endlessly throughout the second half of the film, almost as a taunt to Milos and what he is striving desperately for. In a strange way I think that the film explores the theme of sex in a similar manner to David Lynch’s Blue Velvet (1986). Both consider the far too great importance placed upon sex both by individuals and society. Here, MASSIVE SPOILER ALERT, it leads to Milos attempting suicide in a heartbreaking and surprising scene. I was not expecting this plot twist at all, and it is beautifully rendered. It makes the film a whole lot more human, but this shift in narrative direction also causes the film to move away from the light touch that it had been so successfully trading in up until this point.

As the film shifts tonally, for me it also became increasingly incomprehensible. Whilst a lot of it is universal, I did get a sense that due to the film being made in both a different culture and era, that much of it was going over my head. Obviously, this is not necessarily a bad thing. Not every film should be sanitised in order to be better understood by the Western audience such as that I represent. But it did make the second half a little less enjoyable for me. The film though, does build to a crushing, tragic ending which was a closing reminder of the power of the film and the connection to the characters that the first, lighter half had engendered. 

Verdict: Stubby of Reschs

Progress: 47/1001

Worth Watching December 2011

Worth Watching:

• Drive (2011), Nicolas Winding Refn – A complex, complex film with untold depth. As good a crime film as you will see. A man becomes involved in a spiralling mob world. Gosling as the almost mute protagonist and Mulligan are all kinds of excellent. The soundtrack of the year and one of the very best films of the year.

• Hard Luck (1921), Edward F. Cline and Buster Keaton – This was Keaton’s favourite of his own 2 reelers. The questionable subject matter – attempted suicide – is imbued with great slapstick by this most incredible of physical comedians. He had the most incredible eye for writing a gag. It is frustrating that so much, including the apparently brilliant conclusion, is lost from this film. But what remains is still hilarious, and you can check it out here (actually this includes the ‘lost’ ending, whereas my DVD doesn’t. Not sure if this version is complete):

• Senna (2010), Asif Kapadia – This is an intriguing film which makes incredible use of stock footage. It examines Senna’s almost spiritual connection to F1 racing and suggests deeper complexities in the man, which unfortunately are not explored as deeply as they could be. It’s not particularly balanced, but who cares. It is innovative documentary filmmaking, and Senna’s death is masterfully handled.

• Factory Farmed (2008), Gareth Edwards – I was a huge fan of Monsters, it was my number 3 film of last year. This is a film Edwards made in just 48 hours and is of exceptional quality. The sound and aesthetic are not dissimilar to his first feature and the brooding and apocalyptic atmosphere builds great tension.
  

• Hop (2011), Tim Hill – Films that blend animation and live-action tend to be pretty lacklustre. This one starts wonderfully, and the all-animated sequences on Easter Island are inspired. The live-action sequences jar initially, and struggle to rise to any heights. But there are some nice commentaries on families and the treatment of animals. Enough jokes hit the mark and a brilliant evil chicken sufficiently combat some incredibly daft diversions & ensure this one gets a tick.

• Alias Season 2 (2002), J.J. Abrams – The silliness overwhelms a few episodes, especially the relationship between the protagonist’s Russian agent Mum & CIA agent dad. But just like the first season, the quality cast and rollicking mix of James Bond & Indiana Jones make this fun, watchable fluff. Finishes the season with a Kill Billesque (and standard) extended fight scene and a bloody fantastic twist.

• POM Wonderful Presents the Greatest Movie Ever Sold (2011), Morgan Spurlock – Spurlock gets a bad wrap because, like Michael Moore, by inserting himself into his films he affronts doco traditionalists. His charisma ensures this systematic look into product placement is enjoyable. This is enlightening and slick, helped no end by some fantastically honest interviewees. Who knew a film about advertising could be fun?

• The Way Back (2010), Peter Weir – Successfully conveys the inexplicable terror of conditions in the gulags. Great scenery provide the backdrop for this spiritual as well as physical ordeal. Whilst distinctive characters within the group could have been created better, good performances from the likes of Colin Farrell and Saoirse Ronan mean this is an uplifting, worthwhile watch.

• Rare Exports: The Official Safety Instructions (2005), Jalmari Helander – I much preferred this second short in the series. The central conceit works this time, the whole thing is a fictional training video. Really clever, a great aesthetic matching the form and a nice anti-smoking message to boot. A cracker.

• Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale (2010), Jalmari Helander – This succeeds wonderfully well in broadening out what was established in the shorts. A great, taut little storyline drives a film that is as much about family as anything else. A truly original, stylishly shot film that has some fantastically creepy moments. A father/son tale like no other.

• Everything Must Go (2011), Dan Rush – A man is fired from his job and comes home to find his wife has changed the locks and all his belongings are on his front lawn. So he lives there. The great script effortlessly establishes the three characters, ably supported by three quality performances. This is actually a heart-wrenching, powerful examination of an alcoholic and it pulls no punches. Perhaps too honest a Will Ferrell film for cinematic release (at least here in Aus).

• We Need to Talk About Kevin (2011), Lynne Ramsay – A harrowing watch. An oblique first half, perhaps necessary due to the book’s structure, makes the film elusive & difficult to pin down. It becomes searing in the second half though. Be warned, not an easy film, but an unmissable one.

• Matilda (1996), Danny DeVito – About as sweet and successful as a family film can be. Classily illustrates the equal but opposite powers of good teachers and shit ones. Nice performances all round, and DeVito’s passionate direction doesn’t hurt either.

• Ides of March (2011), George Clooney – Talkfest gives way to sorta politico revenge thriller. Not a whole lot of action, but some fantastic performances despite Clooney being a peripheral figure. Especially from Tomei, Gosling, Evan Rachel Wood and especially Phillip Seymour Hoffman who delivers one of his best performances (which is saying a lot).
  

Not Worth Watching:

• Attack the Block (2011), Joe Cornish – This has featured on quite a few yearly top 10s, but won’t be on mine. Doesn’t really work as a horror film, a comedy or a sci-fi flick. Partly the issue I think is that a lot of the humour is lost in translation. For me, this low-budget indie darling was loud and more than a little annoying.

• Hanna (2011), Joe Wright – This starts well with some fantastic snow covered (and desert) scenery. But with its strange accents and strange father daughter relationship this is reminiscent of Alias, but not as successful. There is no authenticity and there are huge plot holes. Bland and unexhilarating, where the idea should ensure the opposite.

• Rare Exports Inc. (2003), Jalmari Helander – The first of two shorts, this is an incredibly professional production which manages to create instant mythology. And whilst it is sort of the point, this just feels too much like an ad. Too slick, I kept sort of expecting the punch line to make clear that this was a legitimate ad for beer or something.

• Moneyball (2011), Bennet Miller – It’s strange, I enjoyed this for most of it, but then afterward couldn’t think of anything positive to say. People will go on about how Sorkin wrote the script, but for me this was just so flat, with no pop to the dialogue. I would never have believed that Phillip Seymour Hoffman could deliver a performance this listless. Jonah Hill is fantastic in what could be a career-changing role. But the film is unable to convey the scope of a baseball season, and the end drags badly & unnecessarily.

If you only have time to watch one Drive

Avoid at all costs Hanna

Tim Elliott is Not Cool.

I am a blogger. I love being able to express myself through this forum. Someday I would like to work in the mainstream media. Not because I think there is something inherently better about traditional media forms, but because through that forum I would be able to make a living by doing the writing that I so love. But every so often, something is published that makes me question that aim. Something of such inexplicably poor quality and stupidity that it makes me wonder if I would like to work in the mainstream media. I present Exhibit A from today’s Sydney Morning Herald: 'Eating their Words' by Tim Elliott.

As you may, or may not know, I am a vegan. Veganism is a small but important part of what makes up who I am as a man, just like the fact I am a film blogger, I am an (amateur) athlete, a public servant, a music lover and a boyfriend to a woman I love very much. Elliott’s article “Eating their words” is subtitled “Tim Elliott meets the people who are defined by what they will – and won’t eat.” The article starts off mentioning that the author received an invite to the launch of the book Vegans are Cool. So maybe this is where Elliott meets the aforementioned people. But the article is so poorly written that it is unclear whether or not he attended the launch. I suspect he just launches into in ill-advised diatribe based on the title of the book. Essentially his target is not just vegans, but essentially anyone who subscribes to a diet that in any way restricts what they eat, for whatever reason. My diatribe in response is borne out of the fact that he is attacking something I hold dear. My response would be the same if he was writing this rubbish about film bloggers or any other facet of my being.

In the small part of Elliott’s article that he devotes to writing about the book (or its title at least) he states, “perhaps strangest of all is the assumption that anyone cares enough about vegans to bother finding out why they might be cool, uncool or roughly room temperature”. Besides the lame-beyond-belief attempt at punnery at the end, this statement is also wrong. Pretty much, without exception when I tell people I am vegan they take an interest. They may wish to convince me how wrong my choice is. They may want to challenge me with a hypothetical about a sheep and a desert island. They may simply be intrigued as to my choice, the reasons that I have made it and that question that has befuddled mankind for all time – where do I get my protein? Whatever their question, they are pretty much always interested. Elliott’s next task in enlightening his many readers is to engage in the type of stereotyping that I thought we were done and dusted with a decade ago (and even that was way overdue). Apparently the only people who have what the author refers to as “a special food-limited diet” are those “with a cardigan and a crocheted beanie”. Because in Tim Elliott land homosexual men all wear tight shirts, and blue collar workers all wear Bonds singlets and drink Bundy Rum. I’ve got a wicked crocheted beanie, but no cardigan. Can I still be vegan?

Elliott smugly writes that “notable fruitarians have included ... Ben Klassen – the white supremacist and author of The White Man’s Bible – and Ugandan megalomaniac Idi Amin. But don’t let that put you off.” Oh Tim Elliott, you’re so clever, witty and funny. But what exactly is your point? Josef Stalin, Ivan Milat and George W. Bush were all meat eaters. What’s my point? I don’t have one. People do evil shit. Horrible things to their fellow man. These choices are not intrinsically connected to one’s choice of diet. Klassen may eat his fruit and go punch a black man. George W. Bush may eat his steak and go bomb an Iraqi school. Tim Elliott may eat whatever it is he eats and then go out and write a shit article. I just ate some hommus on Rivitas, and now I’m going to go and buy my girlfriend a Christmas present. Are these things connected? No.

Elliott writes that there is a “small, isolate tribe of grain eaters known as hegans – men who refuse to eat meat and animal products, yet somehow manage to hold on to their masculinity.” And please tell us, Mr Elliott, what your definition of masculinity is? Apparently it is intimately tied up with red meat. So perhaps it also involves traditional values you may be into like being able to beat people up and lift huge amounts of weight. Somehow vegans such as Mac Danzig, a UFC fighter, and Nick Diaz, the number one welterweight contender in the UFC, retain their ability to be ‘masculine’ despite their veganism. Diaz also talks a huge amount of smack, is this another of your measures of masculinity? Diaz, I suspect, doesn’t give a shit about posturing about saving the whales or wearing a crocheted hat. All he cares about is being the best athlete, finely tuned at beating up another man, and he has chosen a vegan diet solely for that reason. Pfft, what a pussy aye Elliott? And meet my friend Vegan Tank. The dude’s a tank. But hey, pretty unmasculine with all that animal activism work and caring for his animals. Would you prefer he punch a puppy rather than cuddle them? And then there is me. I have been vegan for approximately six months, but I have never really subscribed to, or cared about ‘masculinity’. I just care about being the best person and man I can. But even though I am vegan Mr Elliott I still “somehow manage to hold on to [my] masculinity” enough to grow a beard and make love to my girlfriend every so often. How do I do it?

You yourself may be wondering why people choose veganism. Don’t worry, our illuminating guide Tim Elliott can answer that too. It’s because this choice has “enabled thousands of inner-west arts students to send a powerful message that they, too, shop at Alfalfa house.” That’s it, thanks for reminding me. I had gotten so caught and brainwashed since I became vegan, that here I was thinking my personal choice was something to do with loving animals and believing it is wrong to kill them for food when I do not need to (a view that is mine alone and one that I don’t push onto anyone). But I’m in luck, because this choice also “enables the person to believe they are making a difference/reversing global warming/saving whales when all they are doing is eating a salad sandwich”. Could it not be possible that they are doing both? 

Elliott finishes off his masterpiece with this: “And vegans are definitely not cool.” To make a blanket assumption of the worth of a group of people that they are not cool because of one facet of their being is stupid and hatemongering. Who else is fundamentally not cool? Cricket fans? Italians? Christians? I know many vegans who are cool. I know some who are not. I know many meat eaters who are cool. And hey, funnily enough, I know some who are not. But you, Tim Elliott are not cool based on the evidence before me. It’s not because you do not like veganism or vegans. That is your choice. It is because you are a narrow minded twat who gets published in one of our country’s biggest newspapers, and makes me question if I want to do the same. I think that in our country we should demand more than this garbage filling our sources of news and entertainment.

Also, SMH, if this is the quality of writing that gets a gig in your Saturday edition, surely you can hook me up with a job?

Terry's World

Terry Gilliam has probably as warped a take on the contemporary world as any director. This truly original filmmaker started off running in the Monty Python crew and has made films such as The Adventures of Baron Munchausen (1988) and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (1998). One of the clear inspirations upon the worldview Gilliam conveys in his films is Chris Marker. Gilliam essentially remade one of Marker’s shorts into his film Twelve Monkeys (1995). So let’s check out the short, and also an example of Gilliam’s own strange, strange view of things.

The film that so inspired Gilliam he remade it is Chris Marker’s avant-garde sci-fi short La Jetee (1961). The film is set in the future, in the immediate aftermath of WWIII. The surviving humans appear to be eking out a subterranean existence. In this subterranean environment, those with the power (and the Nazi overtones) are conducting time travel experiments on prisoners of war. The film’s protagonist is one of these POWs and eventually it is his turn to be experimented upon. Through these terrifying experiments, we learn that the only hope for humanity is the mastery of time travel. Our ‘hero’ (I’m pretty sure we never get his name) is forced to seek out an image from his past. As the waves of time begin to wash over him, the boundaries between the present & the past; and between dreams & reality begin to blur. Here, in the past, our hero through the stark comparison of the future world he finds himself in, can plainly see the affluence and unnecessariness of the contemporary world (contemporary being early 60s, but really this point still holds today). Narratively speaking this is also a romance of sorts, the strangest romance you’ve ever seen as the hero begins to build up a strange relationship with a beautiful woman he repeatedly meets in the past. The whole thing utilises such strong imagery, and the story builds to the truly shocking twist that it ends with. Twists are generally so contrived these days, but this one blew me away.

For a film that only runs about 25 minutes, this is a thematically dense one. The film investigates memory, and the “scars” of memory. What happens when a memory is broken, can it repair itself? There is also an examination of the manner in which humans use their memories to protect themselves. Unsurprisingly, given the horrifying post-war apocalyptic setting and atmosphere, the futility of war is also a core concern here. This is also unsurprising given that the film was made 15 years after the end of WWII, during the Cold War and in this way serves as a warning of nuclear war. As the voiceover states, perfectly encapsulating the futility of war that clearly reigned then (and I think reigns now), “The outcome [of the war] was a disappointment for some – death for others. For others, madness.” And really what can hoped to be gained from war besides those three things. There is a note of optimism when our hero, having mastered the past, travels forward in time to the future to attain a power source. Here he is welcomed, a brief respite from his exploitation in the situation he finds himself in. There is a distinct correlation between the experiments rendered upon him, and today’s animal testing that Marker makes plain. There is also a distinct suggestion that, hopefully, people in the future will be kinder.

This film in many ways requires the viewer to reconsider what constitutes a film. Can a film be solely made up of still images? Well this one is. Marker manages to infuse the images with movement by panning across them and also through his use of the soundtrack. The measure of Marker’s brilliance here is that after a very short time, your brain ceases to realise that what you are seeing are stills. It flows like a normal film. The aforementioned camera movement, and the editing trick your brain. The fact that you don’t notice the stills, makes this I think the most brilliant utilisation of editing I have ever seen in a film. In order to make this work the selection of stills also needed to be astute. The images selected are arresting, even more so when put alongside each other like Marker does. There are horrific images of wartime, and scenes of citywide destruction which I assume are genuine WWII shots. 

This is a cracking, brilliant film that blew me away, as I have little doubt it will blow you away. In every way this it is a triumph of originality and a truly unmissable film experience, no matter what kind of films you generally are drawn to. Watch it. In fact, watch it below, right now. 

Verdict: Longneck of Melbourne Bitter

Gilliam’s feature Brazil (1984) was made in that most Orwellian of years, and it definitely shows. The film takes place “somewhere in the 20^th Century”, presumably somewhere futuristic. The environment is a dystopia, but in some ways it is a gentle one. The authoritarian overlords are at times almost comedic in their bumbling rather than overtly malevolent. Like a lot of sci-fi, this film is extremely topical, exploring notions around the use of surveillance by the government and limits that should be put on it. This aspect of the film is so well rendered, it got me to wondering if George W. Bush had maybe watched it before instigating the controversial Patriot Act.

Whilst it is not a remake of Marker’s short in the same way the Twelve Monkeys is, the influence of La Jetee is plain to see in this film. Just like that film, the mundanity of everyday life and obsession with physical appearance is a thematic concern here. The mundanity is shattered almost immediately though when a terrorist attack rips through the city. Perhaps the predominant thematic concern of this film though is the exploration of the minutiae of beaurocracy, the cold unfeelingness of it and above all its sheer unimportance and inefficiency. In many ways this is the ultimate Canberra film. If you live in a public service town and you have not seen this film, you are doing yourself a great disservice. It will make you cringe at the recognition that this absurdist, science-fiction film is scarily close to reality when it comes to the inner workings of the public service. The film is especially adept at hilariously skewering inane public service speak.

For some reason, the range of influences on this film kept cropping up for me. Which is not to say it is not original – it is incredibly so. Rather, it just incorporates various concepts and ‘feels’ from other sources, and adapts them wonderfully to this new tale. The obvious one is La Jetee, and with that film it shares the concern regarding the future, and specifically whether it will actually be better. There was for a long time the assumption that the future, driven by continued technological advance, would obviously be better than the present. We see that simplistic notion begin to unravel in the film, as to some degree it continues to do in contemporary life. Just like La Jettee, Brazil is also a love story of the strangest kind. Another clear influence on this film (and perhaps every late 20^th Century sci-fi film) is the work of Philip K. Dick. There is a lot of focus on the use of electronics and also forms of escapism in this dystopian future. Also, the ‘everyman’ character at the centre of this film could almost have been lifted straight out of a Dick novel. 

The characters in the film have an obsession with old movies. I get it. They have rigged up the computer system at their mundane workplace so that when the boss is not looking they can watch old black and white classics. I wish I could do the same in my office. I can’t even get onto Youtube. This is a very clever film that generically fits, somewhat surprisingly, into the comedy genre. It is definitely not your standard comedic picture though. It is a black comedy that is more focused upon ramping up the intrigue rather than the slapstick. The performances are all ace. Jonathan Pryce, who is best known to me as the villain in the Bond film Tomorrow Never Dies (1997), is wonderful in the protagonist role. He manages to perfectly balance the character’s numerous both strengths and weaknesses. Robert De Niro is truly magnificent in a small, slightly comedic role. In fact even though it is a small role in terms of screen time, it reminds you why he is considered one of the best actors in history. And his performance is enhanced by being able to play off Bob Hoskins who with this nice turn goes some way toward redeeming himself for ever having been in the Mario Bros (1993) movie. The look of the film is also very interesting. The visual aesthetic is brilliant. It is futuristic, but not showy and distracting, choosing to value set design over special effects. And this is coupled with an extremely clever soundtrack which assists in creating this all encompassing world for the viewer to lose themself in. 

This film scores high on both the intrigue and originality fronts. It does confront a problem that is a non-entity in a short film such as La Jetee in that it does dither quite badly for some of its running time, before rising to a conclusion that becomes more and more oblique. But in the end this warped, funny vision of the future is one you are going to want to check out. 

Verdict: Pint of Kilkenny

Progress: 46/1001

Worth Watching November 2011

Worth Watching:

• Super 8 (2011), J. J. Abrams – A fantastic 80s throwback exploring what kids get up to during their summer holidays... with aliens. Awesome film references and snappy dialogue abound. And it is great to see such great performances from the young cast members, who are actually acting not just being themselves. A cracking old school monster flick with a genuine sense of intrigue.

• The Tempest (2010), Julie Taymor – For me, any Shakespeare on the big screen is a good thing. Taymor has refined her bold visual style since her earlier work, and this is so original to look at with great use of set design and special effects. Helen Mirren excels as the tired, weary Prospera and Russel Brand’s gimmicky casting actually comes off. Ben Whishaw is excellent as Ariel, in a role that can sometimes trip actors up.

• Cars 2 (2011), John Lasseter – A lot of people, idiots, didn’t like the first Cars. The spy parody that makes up the bulk of this sequel is genius. Michael Caine as the elder, Aston Martin spy car is inspired. This is one of the funniest films of the year supported by really sharp animation. And there is so much beautiful nuance in this alternate reality.

• Get Low (2009), Aaron Schneider – There is a great ‘Western’ style aesthetic to this with wonderful cinematography and perhaps the year’s best script. Robert Duvall is such a great actor and throw in Sissy Spacek and Bill Murray and you cannot go wrong. A really nice, simple film that is perhaps a little slow, but definitely worth taking the time to sit through.

• Sucker Punch (2011), Zack Snyder – This is duking it out with The Tree of Life for the most divisive film of the year. Style over substance? Yes, but what style over substance! The awesome bastard child of a film, a music video and a video game. The episodic narrative brilliantly blurs the lines between dreams and reality in a video game quest to collect objects. One thing that cannot be argued about this film, is that it is one of the years most original releases. I loved it. You may hate it.

• Warrior (2011), Gavin O’Connor – One big cliché of a sports film. But with a couple of things really going for it. First the respect shown and research into the fledgling sport of MMA. Secondly some really great performances from Frank Grillo, Nick Nolte and especially Tom Hardy who delivers one of the year’s very best turns.

• The Decameron (1971), Pier Paolo Pasolini – Pasolini brings a real folk tale feel to this film, beautifully enhanced by the crisp cinematography. An exploration of greed and sexual repression, but delivered in a light and funny way. A cool hammy acting style pervades the performances. An intriguing film that intelligently engages with the notions of the church and religion but manages to maintain its comedic edge.

• In Bruges (2008), Martin McDonagh – Easy to see why this has become a cult classic with the profanity laden hilarious dialogue. As far as comedy goes, it is as black as it comes and it is these heavier moments, including the thoughtful romance and a martyrdom which provide the lasting impact.

Not Worth Watching:

• Dorian Gray (2009), Oliver Parker – Ben Barnes is hammy as the doe-eyed, newcomer to London Dorian and is matched up against Colin Firth. Not even the latter, excellent actor can rise above the average here. This is an annoyingly shit movie. It is tackily shot and captures none of the incredible zest of the book’s dialogue. Barnes’ Dorian just comes off as a shallow twat, with none of the conflicted depth the character should have.

• The Scarlet Letter (1995), Roland Joffe – Abysmal. That could be my review right there. This is one of the most ill-judged and worst movies ever. An unauthentic period piece where accents jar, Robert Duvall puts up a strong contender for worst movie wig in history and Demi Moore’s sheer inability to act leads to a film that is plain awkward. A po-faced butchering of the classic book. If I’m going to be subjected to Gary Oldman penis and arse, I expect the film to be approximately 800,000 times better than this. “Freely adapted”, more like shamefully rooted.

• The Sentinel (2006), Clark Johnson – We were all hoping for Jack Bauer hunts rogue CIA agent. Instead you get something a whole lot more tepid than you thought possible with Kiefer Sutherland and Michael Douglas involved. Forgets that for a thriller to be worthwhile it needs a cracking villain. However this just slaps one on almost as an afterthought.

If you only have time to watch one Sucker Punch

Avoid at all costs The Scarlet Letter

Ipod...cast

The newest podcast is up folks. The technical difficulties of posting it on iTunes has now been solved. So you can now access the podcast through iTunes which makes it easier to put on your ipod and all other kinds of fancy jazz I don't really understand how to do.

In this one we discuss Julie Taymor's somewhat forgotten adaptation of The Tempest, agree on our love of the James Bond riffing Cars 2, Jon delivers is opinion on Melancholia and his germaphobe view on Contagion and there is a strange interlude where Arbie my pet rabbit makes an appearance which is a little strange without visuals, but hey it works. Following that we move on to more shared love as we discuss Super 8 and discuss our hopes for our immediate movie-going futures. Take a listen right here: http://itunes.apple.com/au/podcast/thefilmbrief/id483524532. As always, would love to hear your feedback.

With the podcasts now appearing on iTunes I will no longer be bothering with these short posts about each cast. Instead I will just be mentioning when a new podcast is available on my facebook page, so if you haven't already, make sure you like it here: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Not-now-Im-Drinking-a-Beer-and-Watching-a-Movie/129686773759767. Or I am pretty sure that you can subscribe to the casts through iTunes.

And here is the token, podcast related trailer (worst trailer ever? Discuss):