Horror Viewings So Far
Repulsion (Polanski, 1965) – 5/10
While it’s strikingly photographed, I found it very dull for most of the duration, and Deneuve’s character pathetic. Parts of it are quite effective but I was very disappointed overall.
Black Christmas (Clark, 1974) – 10/10
The best “slasher” film I’ve seen, it is both perfectly representative of the genre and very subversive of it. It has mesmerizing camera work and is truly disturbing, not least because the characters are sympathetic, and the killer beyond twisted.
The Faceless Monster (Caiano, 1966) – 8/10
A little clunky, but Barbara Steele is fantastic, Ennio Morricone’s score deliciously creepy, and the plot is surprisingly complex and interesting. Unfortunately, this film is in dire need of a better transfer – the quality of all available versions is very poor.
Antichrist (Von Trier, 2009) – 9/10
See full review below.
Coming tonight: Possession (Zulawski, 1981)
Antichrist (Von Trier, 2009)
Von Trier’s latest, highly controversial film has infuriated and disgusted many critics, most of whom dismiss the film immediately due to its graphic nudity and sexual violence. Reviews of the film are often sensationalized and hysterical, with some film writers becoming offended by the mere suggestion of the film’s content, one in particular even admitting to not having seen the film, but calling for it to be banned anyway (note: this article contains MAJOR spoilers, so unless you have seen the film, do not read the paragraph beginning with “A husband and wife…”). Not only is this presumptuous article ridiculous on principle (how can one criticize a film one hasn’t seen?) but it, of course, completely ignores the context of Antichrist’s assault on the senses. Having seen the film, I do also find this article rather hilarious, because Antichrist is really not that shocking when put next to many mainstream American horror films. Rob Zombie wouldn’t bat an eyelash. Perhaps it is the frankness of Trier’s images that so disturb critics – he presents nudity, sexuality, and violence in the center of the frame, close-up, and doesn’t play tricks with the camera to hide any of it. This isn’t new to his canon, nor is controversy, but the extremity of a few shots here has garnered more attention than usual. Yes, it is violent, and yes, the intimate and sexual nature of the violence is often disturbing to witness, especially as it veers into self-mutilation. It is not, however, all that gory or gleefully creative, like most contemporary horror which delights in spilling as many guts as possible, and is tied inextricably to the themes Von Trier is trying to express.
What, then, is he trying to say, that relies on such extremes to be his vessel? In his interviews on the film, he has attributed its conception and execution to a severe depression he suffered recently. It’s not hard to imagine that the idea for this film came straight from the depths of despair. It concerns an unnamed married couple who loses their young son in an accident, and retreat to a cabin in the woods to deal with the mother’s debilitating grief in a setting that terrifies her. Her husband, a therapist, is relatively unmoved by his son’s death, or he is just distracting himself by turning his wife into a project, dissecting her anxieties and forcing her to go through painful mental experiments that she is clearly not ready for, in the guise of wanting to help her. She is seeking comfort and desires physical intimacy from her husband in order to feel safe. Because he denies her needs, she channels that desire first into a ferocious sex drive, and then into slowly escalating violence, towards him and herself. The specifics of their son’s death are an essential piece of the puzzle when it comes to understanding her extreme behavior. The child tumbled out of a window while his parents were having sex in another room, and that his mother blames herself for neglecting to watch him is natural, if somewhat irrational.
She has found herself in the middle of an ages-old battle between the “dual” natures of woman: the maternal side, which is selfless and rational, and the sexual side, which is selfish, wild, and dangerous. Men have long feared and tried to suppress this oft-mythologized stereotype about female sexuality, which Von Trier himself has described as mysterious and frightening. Deep in the woods, surrounded by the feral and cruel order of nature, She becomes unhinged, her basest fears and desires finally being expressed after grief tears down all illusions of civility. She remembers the last time she visited the cabin, with her son in tow, to work on her thesis, the topic of which is the exact thing her life becomes: the terror men throughout history have felt when confronted with female power, and their subsequent destruction of it. Her writings focused on religiously motivated gynecide, such as the Salem witch burnings. The film itself is loaded with obvious and heavy-handed religious symbolism, the clearest of which is the cabin being called Eden, when it fact it turns into the couple’s own personal hell.
A more nuanced and interesting take on the religious theme comes from the film’s visuals, which are both nightmarish and elegant. Many of Trier’s compositions call to mind the paintings of Hieronymous Bosch, whose works featured dark and surreal depictions of Heaven and Hell. In particular, The Garden of Earthly Delights is a triptych, the first two panels depicting ecstasy in nature, and the third damnation in hell, with similar imagery to the shot in Von Trier’s film of the couple making love against a tree. Pale hands reach up through the roots, appearing sinister and demonic, like they are coming out of Bosch’s vision of hell. This connection could be entirely mine, but nonetheless I think it is intriguing and at any rate, the heavily stylized visuals and beautiful arias that score the film call to mind classic religious art from many sources.
Although the film has been called misogynistic, I think it is actually critiquing the patriarchal society that denies women comfort and understanding, by turning them into the “Other.” We like to believe that as a society, we have moved past these stereotypes about women, but they are still prevalent in our religious institutions and traditional views on female sexuality. When tragedy and fear enter the picture, we revert back to our primitive instincts, and these ancient evils rear their heads. This internal struggle is visually echoed by the location of the forest, which is primal and violent, and the “Three Beggars” that cause this violence among humans (pain, grief, and despair) become animals (a fox, a deer, and a crow). The film is such a dizzying amalgam of visual symbolism, loaded dialogue, allusion, allegory, on top of fierce performances by Charlotte Gainsbourg and Willem Dafoe, that in the end, I’m not surprised most critics chose to simply latch onto the most obvious aspects and declare the film offensive. It is a lot to wrap your head around, and the result is certainly not for everyone. It is intense and harrowing, with emotion dialed up to 11 as Von Trier likes (see also: Breaking the Waves, which deals with a hysterical heroine, punishment of female sexuality, and dark religious themes set against an unforgiving landscape). For me, however, it was one of the most provocative and exciting film experiences of my life, inspiring in its unrelenting vision, and especially in Gainsbourg’s fearless performance, which makes me wish that I will ever go that far in pursuit of my art.
10 Favorite Actors
And their great performances.
Honorable Mention: Michael C. Hall
Not enough performances to get him on the list, but his performances on Dexter and Six Feet Under are among the best I’ve ever seen.
Jeremy Irons
Dead Ringers, Brideshead Revisited, The French Lieutenant’s Woman, Reversal of Fortune, The Mission, Lolita, Elizabeth I, The Merchant of Venice, Inland Empire
John Malkovich
Being John Malkovich, Dangerous Liaisons, Time Regained, Burn After Reading, Shadow of the Vampire, The Killing Fields, The Sheltering Sky
Klaus Kinski
Nosferatu the Vampyre, Fitzcarraldo, Aguirre the Wrath of God, Cobra Verde, Kinski Paganini, The Great Silence
Brad Pitt
The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, Inglourious Basterds, Fight Club, 12 Monkeys, Burn After Reading, Interview with the Vampire
Tony Leung
In the Mood for Love, 2046, Lust Caution, Happy Together, Infernal Affairs, Hero, Chungking Express
Marcello Mastroianni
8 1/2, La Dolce Vita, Divorce Italian Style, Big Deal on Madonna Street, La Notte, Ginger and Fred, Le Notti Bianche
Marlon Brando
The Godfather, Apocalypse Now, A Streetcar Named Desire, The Wild One, On the Waterfront
Daniel Day-Lewis
There Will Be Blood, Gangs of New York, My Left Foot, The Last of the Mohicans, The Age of Innocence, A Room with a View, In the Name of the Father, The Crucible
Johnny Depp
Dead Man, Ed Wood, Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl, Edward Scissorhands, Sweeney Todd, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, The Libertine, Benny & Joon
Ralph Fiennes
The English Patient, Schindler’s List, The Constant Gardener, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, In Bruges, The Duchess, Spider, Red Dragon, Wuthering Heights
A Horror Challenge
Horror is one of my favorite genres, although I often torture myself by watching too much of it for my overactive imagination, and probably the type of film that inspires me the most. So it’s like a double-edged sword, making me feel creative and excited, but also depriving me of precious sleep. As a very unofficial challenge to myself, for the rest of the year, I will attempt to watch as many horror films as I can from a list of what intrigues me most. I may edit the list as recommendations come my way, and I will also try to post reviews here when I finish one. Please give me suggestions! I’m not very well-versed in classic or very recent films, and I try to avoid the extremely gory stuff. I’m interested in atmosphere and chills, not body count. Also, my definition of “horror” is pretty loose, and will include films that just skirt the edge of the genre. So, what I want to see:
- Repulsion (Polanski, 1965)
- The Faceless Monster (Caiano, 1965)
- Eraserhead (Lynch, 1977)
- Dawn of the Dead (Romero, 1978)
- Faust (Murnau, 1926)
- Haxan: Witchcraft Through the Ages (Christensen, 1922)
- Eyes Without a Face (Franju, 1959)
- The Devil’s Backbone (del Toro, 2001)
- Antichrist (Von Trier, 2009)
- Something Wicked This Way Comes (Clayton, 1983)
- Re-Animator (Gordon, 1985)
- Evil Dead II: Dead by Dawn (Raimi, 1987)
- At Midnight I’ll Take Your Soul (Marins, 1963)
- Epidemic (Von Trier, 1987)
- The Bird with the Crystal Plumage (Argento, 1970)
- Ravenous (Bird, 1999)
- Don’t Torture a Duckling (Fulci, 1972)
- Black Sabbath (Bava, 1963)
- Shivers (Cronenberg, 1975)
- The Pit and the Pendulum (Corman, 1961)
- 28 Days Later (Boyle, 2002)
- Hour of the Wolf (Bergman, 1968)
- House of Usher (Corman, 1960)
- Cat People (Tourneur, 1942)
- Les Diaboliques (Clouzot, 1955)
- Trouble Every Day (Denis, 2001)
- Don’t Look Now (Roeg, 1973)
- Possession (Zulawski, 1981)
- Opera (Argento, 1987)
- The Last House on the Left (Iliadis, 2009)
It’ll probably take me forever to see all of these, especially since I’m going abroad soon and won’t have Netflix, but at least this will work as a nice guideline for what I want to see. I’m excited to get started, as I have Repulsion at home now and Eraserhead on deck. Out of all of these I’m most looking forward to Antichrist despite having most of its shocking moments spoiled for me. I’m a big fan of Von Trier and anticipating Epidemic a lot. I expect to love most of these, so this should be a creepily wonderful film journey!
Inglourious Basterds (Tarantino, 2009)
“Cinema is the most beautiful fraud in the world.” – Jean-Luc Godard
Inglourious Basterds is essentially a complex and creative lie, demonstrating film’s ability to interpret and distort the truth to suit the vision of the filmmaker. This vision is of a violent revenge fantasy against the Third Reich, in which the Nazis thoroughly get what they deserved, satisfyingly dealt out by the Jews. The truth, here, is irrelevant – this is an alternate history, where cinema shapes fate, and writes a future where the heroes triumph over the villains. It’s not quite that simple, but what the film boils down to is that it allows us to see what we want to see, the version of history that victims of the regime wished was true, done up with exciting cinematic flourishes that consistently remind us of the illusion. Because it plays so fast and loose with history, this is a much more entertaining and provocative entry into the canon of WWII films than recent offerings such as Valkyrie, which strive to honor the real men that died trying to take down Hitler, and failed in their mission. This disparity poses an interesting question: does cinema have an obligation to the truth? The propaganda of Joseph Goebbels and Leni Riefenstahl play a large part in the story, again suggesting the power of cinema to distort the truth and persuade the audience of the filmmaker’s ideals. This was dangerous, because they were the only voices allowed to speak, but are Tarantino’s aims noble? By rewriting history, is an injustice served to the real memories that people carry? Or do we gain something by collectively participating in this fantasy in which the world operates by the logic of cinema?
There is no easy answer, because film is subjective and we each take away something different from the experience. There is no sacred law which decrees that film must depict the world as it is, just as any artist has the right to express himself however he chooses. Vladimir Nabokov believed that the artist held no social responsibility, and that the quality of art should not be measured by the effect it has on the interpreters. If someone is offended by Tarantino’s graphic imagery of American vigilantes scalping German soldiers, it does not lessen the quality of the film itself, which is smartly constructed in chapters consisting of long scenes of dialogue usually climaxing in violence or the expression of violent emotion. Melanie Laurent and Christoph Waltz play off each other the most deliciously in a long conversation over strudel, in which she attempts to hide her overwhelming pain at the knowledge that he killed her family four years prior, while he rambles on amiably, concealing his own darkness.
Waltz as Hans Landa, head of the SS, is the film’s revelation. Deemed “The Jew Hunter” by the Allied media, he is cunning and ruthless, yet perfectly elegant. He speaks perfect German, English, French, and Italian. He speaks enthusiastically, collecting linguistic oddities, delighting in small details, such as delicious milk or a fashionable shoe. Yet he is a complete mystery, giving alternate opinions on his unofficial title, never revealing how he truly feels. The truth, of course, is irrelevant. It is the illusion that matters. Both the writing and the performance are masterful sleights of hand, revealing the ability of cinema to create a perfect fake, while the explosive finale of the film hints at cinema’s ability to destroy, both literally and figuratively, as the dissenting voice of the artist can create social and political change. Inglourious Basterds perhaps suffers from this emphasis on artifice, as it feels a bit hollow, like a grand spectacle without real humanity. Yet this unique approach to a tired subject brings out fresh themes and ideas, and the end result is gloriously entertaining.
Summer 2009 in Review (so far)
All the films I’ve seen in theaters from May-yesterday.
Star Trek (Abrams)
Excellent effects, great cast of characters, wonderful balance of humor and action. I have a crush on Spock.
Angels and Demons (Howard)
Rather dull with a very flat protagonist. I liked the overdramatic music and the stunning locations.
Terminator Salvation (McG)
Christian Bale is terrible, but Anton Yelchin and Sam Worthington are charismatic and interesting. Neat mood and some very exciting action offsets poor writing.
The Brothers Bloom (Johnson)
Very charming comic caper with sharp writing and acting. Lovely photography of some stunning locales.
Drag Me to Hell (Raimi)
Possibly my favorite horror of the decade. Hilarious, disgusting, ballsy, and flat-out scary.
Up (Docter)
Gorgeously animated and heart-breakingly tender. The first 15 minutes are a self-contained masterpiece; unfortunately what follows is a little aimless, but still very enjoyable.
My Life in Ruins (Petrie)
Unbelievably lame. Offensive, condescending, makes Greece look as sexy as central Florida.
Moon (Jones)
Does not follow through on most of the interesting questions it poses, and lacks conflict or bite. Nice compositions and a very impressive performance from Sam Rockwell.
The Proposal (Fletcher)
Formulaic, but entertaining. Nice banter between Bullock and Reynolds and some decent chemistry.
The Hurt Locker (Bigelow)
Bigelow’s distant approach from the characters makes it hard to really connect. A very thought-provoking look two opposing philosophies on being a soldier, but not as powerful or suspenseful as it could have been with that connection.
Public Enemies (Mann)
Visually intriguing but dramatically flat. The development of the characters is often so subtle as to disappear, which makes the wait between masterfully orchestrated action sequences tedious.
Bruno (Charles)
Occasionally hysterical and razor-sharp in its skewering of intolerance, but frequently just awkward and uncomfortable.
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (Yates)
Dazzlingly shot fantasy and a nice adaptation of one of the least interesting books in the series. Captures silly adolescent love, as well as the awe of dark, dangerous magic.
(500) Days of Summer (Webb)
Wildly creative and funny anti-love story that is the perfect antidote to too many sugarcoated Hollywood films. Killer soundtrack.
Funny People (Apatow)
Adam Sandler isn’t funny, but the rest of the cast get some good laughs. Overlong and indulgent without any legit reason.
Julie & Julia (Ephron)
Made me very, very hungry. The food all looks so amazing and Meryl Streep is perfection as Julia Child. It’s a little long for such little conflict, but it’s warm and welcoming.
District 9 (Blomkamp)
Smart, satisfying, and unique. The science fiction universe is brilliantly realized down to minute details and feels wholly genuine. Very impressive debuts from Blomkamp and leading man Sharlto Copley. Amazing effects.
Ponyo (Miyazaki)
Sweet eco-fairytale that meshes childhood nostalgia with muddled mythology, not always to the best effect. But it’s so gorgeously animated and scored you might not even notice.
Ponyo (Miyazaki, 2009)
This beautifully animated fairy tale takes a page from Hans Christian Andersen, telling the story of a fish who falls in love with a boy and wishes to become human. In this case, the fish, Ponyo, is magical, and she grants her own wish, transforming herself out of sheer willpower. In doing so, she upsets the order of nature, and the sleepy seaside village her human friend, Sosuke, lives in, is flooded to the tops of the mountains. Almost immediately, the mythology of the fantasy world Ponyo inhabits clashes with the warm domesticity of Sosuke’s life with his mother, and as the film progresses, the reasoning behind these mythological clashes becomes fuzzy and incoherent. Thus Miyazaki’s trademark “weirdness” is often more jarring than charming, pulling the viewer out of the sweet, low-key scenes of childhood friendship and family bonding. Even more confusing is Sosuke’s mother’s decision-making when the storm hits. Her actions seem forced to move the plot along despite going totally against maternal instinct and the way the character is written, as frazzled but loving.
Despite some very muddled writing and some poorly realized fantasy, the film succeeds overall based on the connections forged between characters, which are genuinely moving. The film’s gentle pace lingers on the details, painting a wonderful picture of childhood love and wonder. Frankie Jonas does a great job with the English dub of Sosuke, making a very believable and sweet young hero, but Noah Cyrus as Ponyo grates (luckily she has few lines). The rest of the voicework is strong and the musical score lovely as well. The film’s greatest strength, however, is its stunning visuals. The style is often reminiscent of watercolors, very soft, with amazing colors and expressive movements. The scene where Sosuke and his mother race the storm is one of Miyazaki’s most striking set-pieces in his impressive filmography. The rest of the film does not rank among his best, which is not really a knock on it’s quality – he is still a master of animation, and has created yet another uniquely charming fantasy populated with characters that feel truly real.
Recent Viewings
(500) Days of Summer (Webb, 2009)
An honest look at idealized love and the heartbreak that follows when reality sets in, it feels both familiar and fresh. Creatively zipping through the ups and downs of a relationship, playing with timelines, contrasting reality with expectations, and succeeding at connecting with anyone who feels both jaded by failure and hopeful about the future, it has the rare of virtue of being a story about love that doesn’t insist we define ourselves by it.
Lake of Fire (Kaye, 2006)
A relatively unbiased look at the abortion debate in America that is absolutely shocking in both its graphic imagery and frank depiction of the sheer force of hate that uses the issue as a launching pad. Interviews with violent fundamentalists are even more chilling than the medical procedurals. Essential viewing.
The Sacrifice (Tarkovsky, 1986)
When war looms, our true nature is revealed. Thought-provoking and masterfully shot, this film is a rather indescribable experience, as it is so richly layered and beautifully textured. The patience it demands is truly rewarded.
Night of the Living Dead (Romero, 1968)
It starts off a bit clunky, and the score can be overbearing, but it quickly becomes disturbing and the violence still has impact today. The bleak ending is powerful, making the randomness of the tragedy, not the flesh-hungry zombies, the real horror.
Say Anything (Crowe, 1989)
The fear and pain that comes with discovering who you are and what you value apart from your family’s expectations is tenderly depicted in this sweet love story. Learning to trust yourself and your emotions when you’ve relied on your intellect all your life is not easy.
The Adventures of Baron Munchausen (Gilliam, 1988)
Gilliam’s most visually enticing fantasy. Beautifully imaginative, if unsubstantial. Like a great children’s novel with wry black humor, sharply illustrated characters, and a whimsical disregard of logic.
Favorite Films II
Picnic at Hanging Rock (Peter Weir, 1975)
As gorgeous and soft as this film looks, it is deeply unsettling and at times even creepy, and that duality is what makes it so fascinating. The unsolved mystery of three young girls and a teacher who disappear on a daytime trip to Hanging Rock ignites the curiosity and desire of a group of local boys, the last to see them alive. The most beautiful girl, Miranda, is turned into an idealized image, almost angelic, by the boys and her surviving best friend, who is devastated by the tragedy. The film suggests a supernatural world or powerful forces of nature that rise out of the untamed Australian landscape and unleash the emotions of the repressed characters. It’s a very powerful, haunting film, with incredible atmosphere, enduring because of its ambiguity.
The Virgin Suicides (Sofia Coppola, 2000)
This feels like the soul sister of Picnic to me. They both idealize the blonde and the feminine allure in dreamy, sun-dappled imagery with a dark undercurrent. This film dives further into the emptiness left behind when someone leaves you without explanation, and the way that mystery plays into the imagination when accompanied by beauty and desire. The aching of youth, for love, acceptance, or even just rock-and-roll, is captured perfectly in this snapshot of 60s suburbia, in the household of the Lisbon girls and the binoculars of the boys who watch them from their window.
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Near Dark (Kathryn Bigelow, 1987)
This unique fusion of horror and Western is marred by an overly conventional ending, but boy, is the ride there fun. Transplanting traditional vampire myth into modern Texas, the film has a very sultry, seedy atmosphere complemented by the colorful redneck, bloodsucking characters. Bill Paxton is especially memorable as an unhinged and blackly comic vampire and Lance Henkrison is delightfully menacing as the leader of the clan. The fast paced combined with Tangerine Dream’s moody score creates a wonderfully compelling and unusual take on a familiar narrative.
The Fearless Vampire Killers (Roman Polanski, 1967)
I love how silly this movie is, yet the attention to detail in its visuals is just striking. On the surface, it has all the elements of a romantic, gothic adventure, with its beautiful sets, costumes, and snow-capped mountains. Sharon Tate is at her most stunning as the damsel in distress, and the film is full of humor and great sight gags. Ambitious comedies like this are rare, and this one has fantastic aesthetics to boot.
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Eyes Wide Shut (Stanley Kubrick, 1999)
A mesmerizing journey into the dark corners of sexuality and marriage with unmatched atmosphere. Kubrick’s sharp eye is insightful about the temptations of infidelity and the tendency to draw veils around our desires, to repress our feelings until they manifest in dangerous and mysterious ways. The portrayal of human relationships in this film is quite fascinating, as Bill realizes that he understands as little about his wife’s fantasy life as he does the masked strangers at the cult meeting he stumbles into. Yet they are closely bonded despite their secrecy, and his realization of this after his brushes with lust and death, give the film an emotional resonance beyond its visual and auditory pleasures.
Exotica (Atom Egoyan, 1994)
In many ways, this film is somewhat deceiving. Its overt sexuality is steeped in melancholy and pain, and its characters have far more complexity than they at first suggest. What is supposed to be titillating is shaded with sadness, and the rich atmosphere of the club Exotica is exposed as a hideout for damaged souls. These layers, along with the nonlinear storytelling and overlapping characters, make it a film to be explored and analyzed, not simply experienced for the sensuality of the surface. An incredible acting ensemble, led by Bruce Greenwood and Elias Koteas, come together for an ending that devastates and resonates long after the credits roll.
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The New World (Terrence Malick, 2005)
It’s difficult for me to put in words how much I love this film. The languid pacing, the naturalistic performances, the reverent beauty of nature captured in such pristine detail, it all comes together to create something that’s really an experience. It does feel like it transports you back in time, when life was both simpler and harder, and emotions were felt much more deeply. The astonishing work of Q’orianka Kilcher places us right in the perspective of Pocahontas, as she navigates love and adulthood on the shores of two different worlds, and inside her own heart. The result is both incredibly intimate and epic in scope, truly capturing what it feels like to discover your own strength and beauty, as well as all that in the world around you.
All the Real Girls (David Gordon Green, 2003)
This quiet, tender film truly understands the fear and uncertainty that comes with first love, and letting your guard down to trust someone. It’s so difficult to fully embrace feelings that intense and new, as much as you might want to, and the tendency of these characters to destroy their relationship rather than break down the walls inside themselves is heartbreakingly honest. Yet, they come to see that despite the pain and betrayal, it’s impossible to simply walk away, and someone that you have cared for so deeply stays with you forever. The honesty of this film holds a lot of comfort for me, as the specificity of their struggles are made universal through the revealing script and beautiful, brave performances.
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Amadeus (Milos Forman, 1984)
This is a great argument against historical accuracy in film, heh. Where a lot of biopics end up dry and uninvolving, especially those set far enough in the past that the characters become unrelatable, Amadeus is wildly entertaining and feels fresh and modern because it takes liberties. “Wolfy” Mozart is a wonderful character, a childlike hedonist with a staggering talent and a ridiculous laugh. His bitter rival Salieri gives the film a dark, tragic edge, as he desires the talent that only he has the temperament and religious affiliation to appreciate on the highest level. The music is a character itself here, soaring, grand, and truly worthy of all the drama it causes. Mozart and Salieri writing the Requiem together is one of the greatest musical moments film has ever seen.
The Piano (Jane Campion, 1993)
Ada is a mute from childhood by choice, and the strength of her will and passion of her spirit tumble out in her music, from the piano that she uses as her voice. When she is separated from the instrument after arriving in New Zealand to marry a man she has never met, the desire for self-expression takes her on a journey of sexual awakening she never expected. Her fiery temper and repressed sensuality attract the rough Baines, and their initial attraction deepens into something purer and more freeing. The intensity of the wild landscapes reflects the powerful emotions of the characters, unleashing their dark sides, but ultimately liberating Ada as she travels across the earth and deep inside herself to find peace within her troubled soul.
Favorite Films – Part One
I’ve divided these into pairs that I feel go together for thematic reasons, or because of a shared genre, style, actor, country of origin, ect. They’re in no order – it’s hard enough to make a list of films I love, much less decide which ones I love more! Here are the first 10.
McCabe and Mrs. Miller (Robert Altman, 1971)
I’ve always found this film strangely romantic with its soft, rosy lighting; snow-dusted landscapes; and its offbeat, tender characterizations. Julie Christie and Warren Beatty have an understated chemistry that is perfectly suited to the music of Leonard Cohen. The final shootout rivals some of the best traditional Westerns, but the film’s humor and openness about sexuality and pleasure fully set it apart from the genre. It gently subverts all expectations with a focus on the quiet beauty found within the hard life of miners and prostitutes, its tragic ending, and the strength of the female voice in a genre which long excluded them.
Dead Man (Jim Jarmusch, 1995)
A hypnotic and violent spiritual journey towards death, with moments of overwhelming beauty, and very dark humor along the way. An eccentric and extensive cast is anchored by Johnny Depp, iconic in appearance and subdued in manner, as William Blake, a possible reincarnation of the poet. The film is dense and layered, at times psychedelic and twisted, but immediately accessible and engaging due to fine performances and stunning black and white photography. It too spins all genre tropes on their heads, from its accurate and complex portrayal of Native American characters, to the fusion of elements as diverse as Romantic poetry and rock and roll music into the bleak, bloody landscape of the Old West.
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Nights of Cabiria (Federico Fellini, 1957)
As Cabiria, Giuletta Masina gives an unforgettable performance that ranks among cinema’s most haunting and sympathetic. The clownish prostitute suffers humiliation and heartbreak in her quest for love, yet retains her strength and positivity. Although her appearance is striking and odd, and her journey through the underbelly of Rome bizarre at times, her loneliness is palpable, truly relatable. The character lingers on long after the end of the film in the heart of the viewer, like a beloved friend.
The Passion of Joan of Arc (Carl Theodor Dreyer, 1928)
Filmed mostly in closeups of Renee Falconetti’s tearful and rapturous face, perhaps no other film has achieved such intimacy with a character purely through image. Her performance is so powerful that at times it becomes extremely difficult to watch the trials she suffers for her faith. But it is that faith which keeps her strong in the face of death, making this deeply affecting cinema even for hardened religious cynics. A starkly beautiful film that turns a historical tragedy into a searingly personal experience.
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Dead Ringers (David Cronenberg, 1988)
This nightmarish exploration of identity, desire, and addiction is staggering simply on the merit of Jeremy Irons’ dual performance as twin gynecologists Elliot and Beverly. He embodies each of their distinct characteristics perfectly, so that it becomes simple to tell them apart at a mere glance, despite the similiarity of their appearances – and the fact that they share a job, an apartment, and women. Genevieve Bujold as the disturbed actress who upsets their dynamic is also incredible in what could be a throwaway role, as the film shifts to the disconnect in the twins’ harmony after one of them experiences love. Cronenberg tones down his usual gore and horror here, allowing the film’s performances and themes to unsettle on their own, although good luck getting that one scene out of your head.
Requiem for a Dream (Darren Aronofsky, 2000)
Almost nauseating in its intensity at times, Aronofsky’s portrait of four drug addicts is also remarkable for the sympathy it creates for its broken characters. The rapid editing and camera tricks can be overwhelming, but they place us firmly in the perspective of people whose lives are spiralling out of their control. Unable to find peace within themselves, they destroy their relationships, bodies, and souls, yet the film never condemns them. The performances are so skilled and insightful that their pain jumps off the screen. The overall effect is extremely harrowing, a symphony of shattered dreams that builds to an unbearably tragic climax accompanied by Clint Mansell’s incredible score.
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Close Encounters of the Third Kind (Steven Spielberg, 1977)
I really wish I had seen this for the first time as a child. The colors, the excitement, the charmingly dated effects – they inspired as sense of awe in me that I can only imagine would have been greatly amplified 15 years ago. The pace and mystery are maintained throughout all the intersecting storylines, culminating in the joyful finale. It’s refreshing to see a science fiction film that is propelled by wonder and curiosity, not fear and danger. The final product may be slight, but it’s an expertly crafted ride and a great testament to movies as pure entertainment.
Koyaanisqatsi (Godfrey Reggio, 1982)
Without any real narrative, the images and sounds in this film project its themes and ideas clear as day. The juxtaposition of the natural world and the constructions of human society is always around us, but Reggio’s lens amplifies the imbalance and the danger of ignorance. People sleepwalk down city streets, never connecting with the earth that provides for them, that is ancient and mighty and alone. It’s not preachy, but powerful, because of Philip Glass’ amazing score that soars with the camera and chants in a primordial tongue a warning for a world that is falling apart.
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Finding Nemo (Andrew Stanton, 2003)
One of Pixar’s finest efforts – a bright, colorful adventure full of hilarious and endearing characters. The “rescue mission” narrative is given new life when set in the gorgeous reefs off the coast of Australia (and in a dentist’s fish tank). There is plenty of great and unexpected voicework to be found here, but Ellen Degeneres as Dory, a fish with no short-term memory, is probably the funniest character in an animated film, ever. Beyond the humor, the film has real pathos in the touching father-son relationship between Marlin and Nemo, and the friendships formed during their adventures as they struggle to reunite.
A Fish Called Wanda (Charles Crichton, 1988)
A zany, madcap comedy with a ridiculously plot and even more ridiculousluy hilarious performances. It’s not concerned with much other than getting laughs, but it succeeds wonderfully in that regard. Kevin Kline won an Oscar for his work here, but Michael Palin and John Cleese are just as funny. I’d be hard-pressed to think of a scene that made me snort harder than Cleese dancing around naked and speaking Russian. Dammit, comedies are hard to write about.
