Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Dredging Up Baby

Bringing Up Baby simply isn't a funny movie. it is intolerable, obsessant, and mocking. I honest to God wanted to walk out of the class. I cringed every time Hepburn opened her mouth. I do, however, think that my grandmother would find it funny. That brings me to my point. Humor changes generationally. My grandmother can watch physical comedy and air-headed blondes the the sun don't shine, but finds the magic of George Carlin crude and dry. Sure, these is always a classic form of comedy, but this surely isn't it. I think it is why the movie feels so old, distant and antiquified. It isn't the black and white, or the foreign actors, or even the depression-era Ford. It feels old because we don't laugh when it tries to be funny. We, I believe, mistake foreign for old. I causes an otherwise classic movie to seem distant. Baby is a museum to its form of comedy. The amateur Nostradamus would claim that the prototype of the juvenile/teen comedy will feel foreign as it too ages. It would be argued that the specialized form, over the classic, will not stand the test of the decades. When I am 80, I will know. So, I welcome you to join me for my follow-up article in 2070.

Friday, October 26, 2007

StyLeone

I wanted to comment on Sergio Leone's unique style of directorship. Like Once Upon a Time in the West, many of his movies run rather long in time. This use of time is quite unique. Actions are shown in realtime, the cut is used sparingly. Interestingly, a long running time does not imply an excess of dialogue. This is quite the juxtaposition. Leone is a master of expression, sound and other secondary means of storytelling. We see this in the opening scene at the train station with music, and the final shootout with an extreme close-up with expression. Overall, Leone seems fond of the epic feeling seen in his movies. Long play times, aggrandizing titles, timeless actors, et. cetera. They all create a substantial tone for his works.

Saturday, October 13, 2007

The Potemkin


The Battleship Potemkin is certainly one of cinema's most loved films. The Odessa Step sequence has been analyzed by film students for decades. Eisenstein is a noted director mainly for his role in this film; and especially for the creation of one of the first instances of the montage. However, a far less cited aspect of the film is its censorship and reception. It should be noted that the film is, at the very least partially, based on historical fact. In light of this, we can understand the motives behind its censorship in so many nations.


The fact is, ``Potemkin'' doesn't really stand alone, but depends for its
power
upon the social situation in which it is shown. In prosperous
peacetime, it
is a curiosity. If it had been shown in China at the time of
Tiananmen Square, I
imagine it would have been inflammatory. (Ebert)

Eisenstein's film has been banned, at least during some point-in-time, in multiple European nations. Governments have considered the film revolutionary, subversive and propagandizing. To a great extent, it is. One would not be surprised then that initially, Potemkin was only seen by a select few. It was not released to the public at large.


Battleship Potemkin, one of the most renowned films in the history of cinema and
containing perhaps the best known sequence in the medium's entire history, was
initially seen only by small audiences of film society aficionados and trade
unionists. (Grace)

Frankly speaking, the power of this film has little bearing in the modern eye. Surely, one can be taken by the power of revolutionary sentiments or the sight of soldiers mowing civilians. However, it is near impossible to see the gall that went in to the film. America can say and see the underlying purpose of The Battleship Potemkin, but we cannot feel it. That may sound pretentious, but the fact that it is out of cultural and political context is undeniable.


But it suffers when it is seen apart from its context (just as ``The Graduate,''
by striking the perfect note for 1967, strikes a dated note now). It needs the
right audience. (Ebert)


These set of facts do not detract from the power of Eisenstein’s work. On the converse, they make it more powerful. It is something perpetually elusive, a study not only of early film, but of early politics and censorship. It is ironic that so famous a film almost never made it off the floor.

It begs two questions, in my estimate. What else has been lost to the black pen and red tape? Furthermore: Why is this film treasured? Certainly, it is timeless in its progressive cinematics; but is it also remembered for controversy? It certainly would not be the first time.



Wednesday, October 10, 2007

The End of the Frontier

In My Darling Clementine, the church bell scene summarizes an important aspect of the film. We see the end of the wild west, and the crude, frontier civilization. The latter is also represented by Mr. Thorndike and the theater productions. The fact, however, remains that the church is unfinished and the production is canceled when Mr. Thorndike doesn't show up. Mr. Thorndike relies on Doc to continue his recitation of McBethThis represents a backlash against civilization, and the fight between frontiersmen and homesteaders. The actual shots of the church contrast with the Arizona mountains and the desert scenes. It represents the introduction of settelers and shows how they have only begun to tame the landscape. Other symbols of the East include Clementine, the barber's cologne, the church bells, Doc's diploma, et. cetera. In my opinion, it is an important theme of the film that is never addressed outright. In that way, it begs interpretation and analyzation.

Monday, October 1, 2007

Paradoxical Pan's Labyrinth

Guillermo del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth is a film which beautifully combines surrealistic qualities and historical fact. This combination is almost paradoxical, but the two factors work in unison (not against themselves, as something a director less apt at his profession may have filmed). The general story revolves around the trials of a young girl (Ivana Baquero) after the Spanish Civil War. Her mother (Ariadna Gil) ill, and her Captain stepfather (Sergi Lopez) distrustful of her, the young Ofelia partakes in various acts and tests for a mythical faun (Doug Jones). Ofelia completes three of these trials while her external world disintegrates under powers that she cannot understand. The surrealistic aspects serve to both portray the meanderings of a child and to foil the very real events of wartime Spain. The story continues in the two distinct and aforementioned patterns (the real and the surrealistic) and del Toro cuts seamlessly between the two. His film then, is able to provide large doses of fantasy without seeming illusional. Even the literary qualities and cinematics of del Toro’s work mirrors this idea. The dialogue of Pan’s Labyrinth is foundational and realistic, while the color is a peculiar concoction of sepia and technicolor. Pan’s Labyrinth juxtaposes something as jovial as a child’s bath with something as gratuitously violent as the smashing of a peasant’s face. In this way, del Toro toys with the emotional state of his viewers. We are repulsed by violence and war, only to be drawn back by the innocence of, and concern for, a child. The actors and actresses of Pan’s Labyrinth maintain their convincing performance throughout the film. In the case of General Vidal, this is quite disturbing. Perhaps this is why he is consistently portrayed in a dark light (both figuratively and literally). The greatness of the acting is in part, due to seemingly inherent talent. However, costume designers, graphics men and make-up artists should also take credit for this feat. The cinematics of Pan’s Labyrinth should be noted. Scenes important to the plot, generally, are longer. Close-ups are relegated to highlight particularly important scenes and events (The nymph fly, or the final shot of Ophelia, for instance). The screenplay was written by del Toro after the fundamental idea solidified in his mind for over a decade. As with so many other great works of art, it seems that Pan’s Labyrinth’s greatness could only come of this period of refinement and thought. The film, like few others, caters to an array of emotions that leaves any viewer yearning for more. Pan’s Laybrinth is wholly deserving of its multiple rewards and recognitions, and it is wholly deserving of yours.