Piercing the Veil

Christopher Nolan spent a great deal of Batman Begins grounding the character of Bruce Wayne in the real world, and doing away with the hyper-stylized visuals that have traditionally been a staple of the comic book adaptations. While it may have seemed a bit much at the time, The Dark Knight reaps huge dividends from this brilliant decision and shatters the conventions of its genre.

What we this summer is a work that fulfills the Nolan brothers promise that I first saw in Memento; the Batman character is used to propel a powerful film about arch-criminals and brutal urban justice. 

The theme of The Dark Knight draws its inspiration straight from American headlines -- that of dwindling faith in our political leaders and the decay of our institutions. The Joker, as re-imagined in this work is a thoroughbred anarchist who feeds on this frailty and largely wins every encounter he engages in throughout; he is one of the most believable extrapolations on a criminal psychopath I've seen. His plans truly are brilliant.... Hollywood does not deserve this good of writing! Christian Bale thankfully has toned down his Bat-persona a bit and actually performs quite well, as do the rest of the cast. Gary Oldman has much more to do this time around and Aaron Eckhart was a good choice for Dent. 

But of course what really makes this film so amazing is the marriage of excellent writing with stunning visuals and thrilling action that give a new dimension to the entire concept of crime-fighting. I think they are the most inventive urban warfare sequences ever portrayed in a film and truly visionary. In a post 9/11 world these spectacular scenarios seem increasingly likely and the symbolism of the film's poster is more than a bit suggestive.

The film doesn't escape getting a bit preachy, and the writing has a tendency to get almost a bit too clever.  I am not a big fan of villains giving explanations for their motives, and Nolan can't gets a bit too specific with both the Joker and Dent. His writing is very forceful and self-consciously "cinematic"; Nolan, much like Ridley Scott, is a detached director who portrays emotion with calculated precision. It's thrilling, but rarely delves into the genuinely dark side of human nature which can be embarrassing or even humiliating. So in the end this is still a hyper-stylized, caricature-driven film; Heat isn't going to get knocked off its perch anytime soon. Just the same, with Michael Caine, Gary Oldman, and Heath Ledger giving such stellar performances, Nolan succeeds in overcoming his Hollywood transgressions.

The Dark Knight is cause for celebration on many levels, but perhaps most importantly it has finally freed an entire realm of entertainment from hacks like David Goyer and the creative wasteland of 90s neo-noir. This is the kind of film that makes you realize your unrequited love for a genre that has been ceaselessly abused.

Film of the Year: 2007 (...1966)

Fahrenheit 451 is simple, effective, and a tour-de-force of "La Nouvelle Vague." This exceptionally creative -- even briliant piece of dystopian filmaking shows François Truffaut using all of the devices of the French New Wave to effectively tell a science fiction fable, and the results are unique to say the least. With Nicholas Roeg and Bernard Herrman on board, this is my favorite of his films and a pinnacle for the genre "Cinéma Fantastique."

Ray Bradbury's story proceeds from a deceptively simple premise: What would life be like with the total absence of the written word? The book takes a philosophical/ analytical approach to this question, whereas Truffaut adapts it to a more melodramatic and visual meditation on a banal, almost pleasant, totalitarian state -- the kind most would feel comfortable in. Very few American directors would have approached the material this way; on the surface, this world is not so much terrifying as it is dull and boring.

This can be no more apparent than in the realms of life where books do not apparently play an immediate role, but upon closer examination inform so many or our decisions and the quality of our interactions. Truffaut's film shines in these moments, particularly in the relationship between Montague and his wife. If I have one gripe, it is that Truffaut is a little too condescending, and does not get into the very ugly, frighteningly depressing issues he brings up; I do not know how much Montague's wife is a villain, but more of a pitiful, helpless, even sympathetic character. Also, Bradbury's ending has always seemed a little too simplistic for me.

Yet the power of the message of Fahrenheit 451 cannot be underestimated. Despite the ubiquity of the title, its cautionary message has not been heeded by many.

The Call of Cthulhu

Gore Verbiski's manic, shallow riff on Pirate lore really catches up with him in this third installment of a near billion-dollar series. In all my years I have never encountered a more convoluted plot in a film, nor more unbelievable character development. Taken together, this 8-hour trilogy is fatally flawed in its vain attempts to create a postmodern adventure story; throwing in new "rules" and shifting already anemic allegiances every five minutes fails to make nonsensical material intellectual.

The Pirates of the Caribbean films have ransacked an entire genre -- hell, an entire century -- of its most cherished and magnificent visuals. "The Maelstrom" is one of Edgar Allen Poe's great stories, as are countless others (Dumas, Stevenson, Lovecraft, Melville) that are shilled in the name of this Bruckheimer Splenda fest. This was already painfully evident in the first two films, but I found myself enjoying Dead Man's Chest despite it all; Davy Jones and the Flying Dutchman were quite simply pulled off too well for me to disregard.

Alas, Pirates III hypes up all of the worst elements of the series and it's where the chickens really come home to roost. The pretentious attempt to bring in political and colonial history? Check. The convoluted, grating creation of all things "pirate" and their world? Much worse this time around. Groan-inducing romance, senseless action scenes, goofy cameos and Keira Knightly as a leading lady? Oh baby, you don't know the half of it. The list goes on and on, but suffice to say that this story has run its course headlong into a cement wall.

I will end this review by stating how completely disappointed anyone must be who enjoyed the performances of Johnny Depp, Bill Nighy, and Stellan Skarsgard in the previous films. None of their characters drive the 8-ring circus of action, and Davy jones is just paraded about as another has-been CGI effect. This is the shallowest of Hollywood and Disney pap. And no, the FX aren't appreciably any better than in #2; even with 2000 composite shots and the largest set in history Pirates III is a bore.

John Carpenter's Lost Empire

You’ve seen Escape From New York. You’ve enjoyed Christine. Maybe you even caught a little Starman on late-night cable and gave it few minutes. Well, if you think you’re up for it, allow me to introduce the John Carpenter motherlode -- Halloween III: Season of the Witch.

No, he didn’t direct it, but he did produce it and write the score. So it seems like kind of a shadow of a J.C. film, and in some ways it is the purest distillation of his technique put to celluloid. It is a glimpse of a movie producing empire that never was, and we’re all the poorer for it. I hardly know where to begin when discussing this unprecedented sequel, but let’s start with what it is not.

Most incredibly, it has nothing to do with Michael Myers or the plot of the first two films. Nothing whatsoever. At this point in his career Carpenter was riding high enough that he fancied himself a producer who could create an entire Halloween franchise – one a year, kind of a Rod Serling series each with its own distinct plot and characters. But if the idea with any sequel is to give the audience more of what they loved, only with bigger explosions and more nudity – this film is the ultimate “screw you” in history.

Second, there is not a witch to be seen in the film, although it could be surmised that the action of the film does still transpire in the forementioned season. But you’d better just forget about seeing that character from the poster in the film, she ain’t there. What we’re treated to is something much more novel: the story of an evil toy manufacturer who has a diabolical plan that would make Heinrich Himmler do cartwheels on his grand piano.

After an awesomely low-tech, pre-Macintosh computer-generated opening title sequence, the action is under way. An old man, carrying a toy mask, runs through the streets of a “Northern California” town frightened for his life. Chasing after him are a bunch of men in gray three piece suits, slicked-back hair, driving Oldsmobiles. They kind of look like a security force from the Christian Coalition – probably intentional. And yes, they wind up killing him.

What ensues is essentially a remake of nothing else than the original Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Oh yes, it’s all there. An apathetic, consumer-driven public which has become the pawn of evil Rasputins. The main character – a doctor (Tom Atkins) who suspects a societal menace that no one else can see. With a wardrobe filled with “Member’s Only” jackets and lumberjack shirts he takes to the road to uncover the secrets of the SILVER SHAMROCK toy company.

Now, helping this all along is a soundtrack that sounds strikingly familiar to Ennio Morricone’s work for The Thing. But the amazing thing is that Morricone wrote the best John Carpenter score that John Carpenter never wrote, and then John Carpenter proceeds to rip off that very same score. Throw in a few synthesizer tricks from Escape From New York, and you get the idea. But I digress.

Okay, so we get to Santa Mira (Invasion of the Body Snatchers -- ahem) where the company town is run by a shadowy figure named Conal Cochran. Luckily, this is where the film really gets cooking. Dan O’Herlihy is simply the best white-haired Irish villain in a wool suit driving a vintage Cadillac that you’ll ever see. His company, Silver Shamrock, is responsible for the hottest Halloween masks in America. His plan? To kill every child in America with these masks. His motivation? Pagan human sacrifice.

This insane plot lays fertile ground to one of the most sinister gas-chamber murders you’re likely to see in a “fun” mainstream film, alongside an uttterly bizarre sermon on the Celtic origins of October 31st. The climax resists categorization; think the ending of Raiders of the Lost Ark in a dairy factory.

Now here’s the thing with Halloween III though – it looks fantastic. Dean Cundey had just shot no less than three films in a row for Carpenter and he had the style DOWN. It’s hard not to fall in love with the immaculate Panavision framing, the masterful use of rack-focusing, and Cundey’s understated but stark lighting which should be textbook material for any cameraman.

John Carpenter, limited though his palette may be, also wrote some of the most hypnotic movie scores of his era. Halloween III certainly isn’t going to win any points for originality, but when you marry Cundey’s cinematography with Carpenter/Howarth’s low-tech synthesizer soundtrack, it’s magnetic. These two factors, along with Carpenter’s no-frills storytelling, make for no-BS film viewing at its finest. Director Tommy Lee Wallace competently worked within these parameters. Now if only he could write scripts and direct actors, Halloween III might have more of a following.

Unfortunately, “Season of the Witch” died a painful box-office death and marked the beginning of the end for John Carpenter’s most fertile years as a creative filmmaker. Still, I’d rather watch one of his worst endeavors than 99% of everything else that’s out there.

Just because it's Criterion doesn't mean it's good.

Art films. There are great ones, and there are lame ones, just like anything else. And whomever puts them on DVD has absolutely no claim to their artistric integrity.

Yet 95% of the time that Criterion Collection releases an old film, the reviewers give it four stars. It's always a "masterpiece" of some sort or other -- it's a Criterion. This mass-hypnosis has to stop. The "Collection" has MANY dud rounds in their chamber, and you would be better off buying $5.99 DVDs in many cases.

I guarantee you that if Robert Altman's Popeye were released in a Criterion 2-DVD set for $40 it would get 3.5, maybe 4 stars by most DVD reviewers. They would call it unique in the annals of American filmaking, its scatterbrained genius lost for nearly a generation. Now I like Popeye, but the film is a goddamn mess. It's worth a bit more than $5.99 but if that's what Amazon wants to sell it for, I won't argue.

Here is a small sampling of Criterion films that I feel are overrated:

• Kagemusha
• Alexander Nevsky
• The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp
• Mon Oncle
• Playtime
• Bad Timing
• The River
• Good Morning
• Equinox
• Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
• The Blob
• Sanjuro
• Koko: A Talking Gorilla
• Man Bites Dog
• Solaris
• Le Circle Rouge
• Armageddon
• Shoot The Piano Player
• Ran

Don't get me wrong -- many of these are worthwhile films and should be available in one form or other. Some folks like Jacques Tati, some folks like Sejuin Sezuki. Mine is a purely subjective list. Let's put it this way: The Criterion Collection is like an exclusive country club where the sunday brunch is almost always better than at the local IHOP.

My bone to pick is with the so-called "critics" out there. Just because it is a Criterion doesn't mean it should be treated differently from any other film. Realistically, they have to release all the Kurosawa stuff they can, yet it is indicative of the times we are living in when simply any of his works is given the "masterpiece theater" treatment.

Even a cursory look at their Web site is fraught with irritation. A documentary on John Cassavettes's film Faces called "Making Faces". An essay on actor Tetsuya Nakadai titled "The Eighth Samurai" -- as if the entire Japanese world revolves around the overrated Seven Samurai. Raymond Bernard's "astonishing masterpieces" of French cinema; "Terrence Malick has created some of the most visually arresting movies of the twentieth century", his Days of Heaven a "glorious period tragedy"...in short, there is never a missed opportunity to make an obvious reference or to inflate their product. Does anyone else find Joseph Cotten's performance in The Third Man something less than "brilliant"? To me, it's pretty straightforward and uneventful, even dull. It could only come from an American company pulling out all of the stops to make sure everyone knows just how cultured they are.

Despite it all, I am thankful for the Criterion Collection. They've been making money off of me for two decades. For every Kagemusha there is a brilliant Throne of Blood. Criterion should get a medal for preserving films such as: Night and the City, Alphaville, Jigoku, The Killer, Olympia, Double Suicide, My Man Godfrey, Red Beard, Gimme Shelter, Branded to Kill, F for Fake, Brief Encounter and many hundreds more.

But I refuse to wear my church suit to every meal. I like my "days" filled with Thunder, not Heaven.

How to Buy DVDs: Part 1

• Check the DVD home page on Amazon.com and see what big sales are running. They rotate frequently and soon the titles go back to their normal rates. Excellent, double-disc sets from last month go for as little as $10.00.
• Powells.com: They ship DVDs for free and there is no tax or minimum order. Best of all, they offer a larger discount on Criterion Collection discs than Amazon, usually about 20% compared with Amazon’s 10%. However, Amazon does give larger discounts for laggards like Andrei Tarkovsky’s Solaris -- but why would you want to buy Solaris.
• Be very careful with half.com. Make sure the seller has perfect or almost perfect feedback and lists exactly what the condition of the DVD is. This is one of the worst areas of online auction abuse. “Like New” condition can often mean a scratched, smudged disc in a worn case.

Subscribe to my blog and I'll fill you in on some more great tips. It's easy!

Cahiers du DyaliScope

On July 25th, 1953, Francois Truffaut wrote an article in Cahiers Du Cinéma titled "A Full View." It was an unabashed endorsement of the then brand-new American introduction of widescreen filmaking. As he put it:

"With the wide screen the cinema of its own account reinvents the bas-relief, the essential medium of sculptural narrative, and in the same way gives 'depth' a primacy over 'relief', which, as we have seen in the recent 3-D films, points in the direction of an affectation with nothing to offer us but a vision of the world that is naively monstrous and totally unrealistic."

54 years later, in an age of Play Stations, Cell Phones, and iPods, CinemaScope still retains a magnificence when contrasted against any subsequent technological development. Its introduction was feared by many, but eventaully embraced. However, Truffaut's enthusiasm for the new medium is important to read accurately; he makes it very clear that the purpose of the technology is only as valuable insomuch as it does not detract from the inherent qualities of the motion picture art. Furthermore, widescreen dimensions actually recreate human panoramic vision with greater similitude than the traditional "box."

Fearing technological progress can certainly be a bit ironic in a profession that is mechanical by its very nature. Yet we should always make certain that it enhances, not mutilates, the art of making films. Makes sense to me, particularly when James Cameron is out giving lectures on the necessity of switching to 3-D filmaking or forever losing the world's movie audiences. Yet here we are with people are still paying top dollar to be entertained by widescreen projection.

Cinemascope was not available to the filmakers of the French New Wave however, so they had to make do with makeshift systems such as DyaliScope. It must have really irked the boys in berets that their favorite word "cinema" had been Shanghaied by Les Americains. Now, if Shoot the Piano Player showed any flair in using widescreen composition I might take the above quote a little more seriously. In fact it might have been a better film if it had been shot normally and Truffaut wasn't trying so desperately to be artsy. More on that and his problematic auteur theory in a later post.