The Agony and Ecstasy of Phil Spector (2008) Vikram Jayanti

Phil Spector is quite a character.  He's a weird and miscomprehended genius of music, nothing more interesting than that.  But this is a clear example that sometimes, a great character is not enough for a documentary to be good.



The documentary is too long and repetitive.  It's funny how Phil Spector mentions that Psycho is only good as it is an edit-movie, when this film isn't good due to lack of editing.  Vikram Jayanti should've edited at least half of it.  It would've been a great short-film.  I'm not sure if he insisted in making it this long in order to have enough time to play most of Spector's songs, from start to end, but he clearly didn't have enough material to keep it going for a 102 minutes.  There's a point where you actually get bored and have simply had enough of this sort of E True Hollywood Story he's presenting.  Unfortunately you can't simply change the channel.

Catfish (2010) Ariel Schulman & Henry Joost

This is a fascinating documentary and definitely a must-see.  It's a deep, controversial analysis on  human, computer-based, relationships and their complexity.  The truth is, I'm not very familiar with this trend of getting to know people through the internet, but I have a couple of friends who have done it and have enjoyed the experience.  Still, I think you take away the magic of the first encounter, of the first exchange of looks and smiles, of being able to decipher his/her corporal language.  Despite what I think, this way of getting to know people is getting more and more popular every day, so I think it's of great interest and importance that young directors now-a-days, explore this topic and its possibilities.



It begins in a very casual/funny mood.  You get to know Yaniv, who happens to be a great character to whom you can immediately identify, and therefore empathize with.  This makes you want to listen to, what appears to be, just another trivial love story, despite how cliche it may first seem.

The first twenty minutes, I thought this documentary was about to sell us what a great idea meeting people through the internet is.  But then, the twist takes place.  "Abby's such a psychopath" Yaniv says when he finds out she's been cynically lying to his face (computer).  And the movie begins to get really interesting.  Generally, most people in that situation would've simply ended the relationship right there.  They would've just said something like "there's too many weir people in the internet..." and would've probably given it a rest for a while.  But they decide to dig deeper and get to the bottom of it.

First they do research on how much of it is a lie. Then, they visit and confront her. "Why?" they ask her, and as she tries to answer, you get to know her... she's no psychopath, truth is, she's no worse than any of us, she's just a lonely-frustrated gal that has all these issues that don't let her reach out to people.  Evidently she has a huge problem coping with reality and telling the truth, and she clearly needs to get some help, but she's not a bad person.  She's didn't play with Yaniv's feelings just for the fun of it... and they're right, the whole situation is sad and nothing more... and i think that's why Yaniv doesn't get mad at her.  How can you get mad at somebody who's incapable of loving?  I don't think you can, and if you do manage to get mad, then I don't think you actually understand what that means, being "incapable of loving"...

There's a lot to ponder on.  Isn't every relationship based on an Abby(ideal)-Angela(reality) structure? Don't we all, at some level, believe the other one wants us to be Abby? and haven't we all felt the frustration of uncovering the Angela beneath?  Do we ever truly relate on a Angela-Angela level?  Is it even possible?  And isn't there a little of Abby in all of us?  Or is it the other way around? A little of ourselves in Abby? ...just like there was a little of Angela in Abby...

The Black Power Mixtape 1967-1975 (2010) Goran Olsson

This film is filled with beautiful and unique archival images of the "Black Power" movement that took place in the US from 1967 to 1975.  To my generation, it is a must-see.  I say to my generation, because we didn't get to watch television when the movement was taking place, we were born long after the deaths of most of them, so this is a great opportunity to familiarize ourselves with all that imagery.



The thing is, the film has a televised format that puts you in this numb-state of mind, very similar to when you're actually watching t.v.  At least, that's what happened to me, and I find it only natural since they were actually taped for Swiss television.  But if you're able to fight the numbness, then you'll be able to appreciate how interesting, everything the documentary shows, actually is.

I think it is a little too long, specially due to the density of the images and statements that conform the documentary.  But if you're used to watching the news for long periods of time then you'll find it to be an extraordinary work.

Cool It (2010) Ondi Timoner

This documentary has a very noticeable Michael Moore style, nevertheless I find it to be of huge interest to society.  In a way, you can say that it is a counterattack to Alan Gore's documentary, The Inconvenient Truth.  So "truth" is probable in between...well... maybe not THAT in between.

 

What I liked most about this film was all that data-analyzing.  All the fact Bjorn Lomborg throws in, make a lot of sense, they are believable and congruent.  The idea of reorganizing priorities is completely logical.  I agree with him, we should spend all that money, that is going to waste by unsuccessfully trying to fix global warming, in eliminating hunger, diseases, poverty...  Of course, as he states it, there are too many influential people interested in things remaining as they are, so change won't come that easily.  I think the main difference between Al Gore's and Ondi Timoner's documentaries is that the second one offers good, viable solutions, while the first one focuses only on you panicking.

There are also some things that I didn't like about the filme because they were too manipulative, like all the scenes were Bjorn Lomborg is hanging out with his sick mom.  I mean could it be more obvious that the director is appealing to our compassionate, human side, so that we start liking Bjorn and that way we find it easier to believe in what he's saying.  The same goes to the scenes where's he's feeding African kids.. they should have been left out, because ultimately what sustains the documentary is all those Nobel Prized scientists that support Bjorn Lomborgs ideas, not if we think he's a good son or even a good human being.

Steam of Life (2010) Joonas Berghäll

I think the title alone lets you know this is a very spiritual documentary.  It opens with a couple of middle-aged people, completely naked, just enjoying the steam of the sauna and enjoying their own bodies.  I found it to be a beautiful opening sequence, specially since they feel so comfortable lying there, despite the camera filming them... and it got me thinking, we've grown so afraid of being naked, both physically and emotionally, that we've been missing out on simply enjoying our own bodies, our own feelings.

 

In general, I really liked this work.  Some of the men who tell their stories move you in so many different levels it's hard to get out the theater the same... these are people who are are completely broken, who feel defeated by life, who were too afraid and are now too alone..  "I wish she came, I've always cried alone, maybe this time we could cry together..." says one of them referring to his child. And yet, they're "us" in a very specific point of life, maybe even in the present time.

There were some scenes that I didn't like, because they felt forced, and strangely enough, overacted... I would've edited them, also the ending, which I think is cheesy and corny and completely unnecessary.  But other than that, I think it's a great documentary, a beautiful portrait of life as it is lived.

No Distance Left to Run (2010) Will Lovelace and Dylan Southern

A documentary on Blur...  let's be honest, doing a documentary on a band like Blur, getting back together is a great idea, and there's almost no way of it not working, because your subject is great on itself.  If you actually manage to do something that doesn't work, you can still count on the documentary being a hit within the band's fans, so there's almost no way of getting it wrong.



The truth is, I'm not quite sure how you're supposed to approach this kind of movies.  The only thing I can surely say is that I really enjoyed this work.  I loved the way the band members opened to the directors and were not afraid to show their deeper selves in front of the camera.

I liked the structure given to it, how it begins with images of the band reuniting at the studio and the voice in off of Graham confessing how much he had missed Damon, and how little he had been able to acknowledge it on the past few years.  Of course, on that moment I wasn't able to recognize who was talking and about who, since names are left unspoken, but I was able to connect with that feeling of nostalgia for a lost friend, for a past life.   I think that voice in off sets the mood in which the rest of the documentary will unfold itself, because more than simply talking about a huge British band, it talks about friendship and life and how sometimes things don't work, about the complexity of relationships and the way people decide to go through different paths.

Looking at them reminiscence in front the camera, cutting to scenes from when they were young and on top of the world, and then watching them perform in present time.  Evidently that type of structure is going to give a nostalgic/idyllic atmosphere to the whole documentary, and it is going to connect to our past on that same way, so the effect can only strengthen itself, since we are no longer missing Blur, but in fact we are missing the times when we used to sing Blur's songs, with all that that represents: a specific moment in time, in our lives, in our youth... when we, as well, felt on top of the world.


It's a great music documentary because it connects with you and it moves you and you get out of the theater wishing you had been more involved with their music,  wishing you could feel part of the portrayed experience.  It makes you want to grasp to that piece of time and just linger... just forget about right now and live in the memory of the past.

The Furious Force of Rhymes (2010) Joshua Atesh Litle

I've never been a huge fan of hip-hop, but I don't think this movie was made exclusively for hip-hop fans.  I think that hip-hop fans will definitely enjoy the documentary in a more profound level, but I also think that not knowing anything about this musical genre has its upside.



The film has a geographical narrative.  It begins in New York City, then moves to France, Germany, Middle East, and ends in Africa.  I really liked that structure because you get to compare different types of hip-hop, all influenced by their own musical traditions.  I found that comparison to be very rich, not only at a musical level, but also at a cultural level.  It's impressive the way hip-hop can be, depending on the lyrics, nothing but a sack of negative expressions or the bright light at the end of the tunnel.  The same situations and problems, as corny as it may sound, are looked at in a half-empty glass, or in a half-full glass way, which is only human, since facts are not good or bad, but only facts (which every creature but humans understand) and the way we are able to cope, or not, with them, is what makes us think of them as good or bad.

I also liked that you get to see musicians in their daily life, talking about their lives and their worries, thinking they are common people.  Then, you get to watch them perform, singing at the studio or in a videoclip.  So you connect to them, not only on a musical level, but also on a more human level.  You start caring and believing their messages should be heard, no matter what the content is.

The way it ends, with all the musicians linked by the same hip-hop bit, all contributing to the same song... I found it slightly corny, but also very moving.  It's like they say during the documentary, in the end, it doesn't matter in what language you're singing, hip-hop music has the strength to unite, because in the end it's all about the music.

El FIeld (2010) Daniel Rosas

Yesterday I went to Ambulante Film Festival to watch a mexican contemporary documentary.  A friend from Mexicali knew the director and the producer and proposed we all went to watch it.  It's hard enough to write what you though about a movie, without it being from a guy you know, but with that added, it's almost impossible to be completely honest.

 

I thought the movie had great visual content, but the sound design seemed overlooked and the music did terrible harm to the film.  A good friend of mine said it reminded him of Our Daily Bread, and when he made this question to Daniel Rosas, he said he had watched it after he had finished the movie and had also found the similarities.  I haven't watched Our Daily Bread, so I can't comment on that comparison.  What I can say is that I didn't understand why the synopsis says the movie is about illegal Mexican people who work on the field, when I though it was more about a different approach to the field.   Just like the title says it, I think the documentary gives us the opportunity to appreciate the field in a way we never could have expected to appreciate it.

This documentary is by nature contemplative and descriptive, more than narrative.  I think that the part that I didn't like about it was just that, the director not being brave enough to just let it be that way.  I think he should have edited all those images and "conversations" that give into narrative statements, because they feel forced and out of place.  If he had done that, maybe it would've reminded us more of Koyaanisqatsi, but I think it would have had a lot more strength.

El Santo Oficio (1974) Arturo Ripstein

Last week I went to watch El Santo Oficio (The Holy Office) in 35mm.  Circo 2.12 is doing a small retrospective on Ripstein's work all Wednesdays at Centro Cultural Universitario Tlatelolco,  so I thought it was a good opportunity to re-watch some of his films and get to know the ones I hadn't seen.  The truth is, I'm a big fan of Ripstein, and all of his movies I've watched (which are not that many), are either good or excellent... all but this one.



I really don't know how the critics and the audience responded to this film when it was first released.  Somebody told me it won a couple of Arieles.  I think it should have been a let down, though.  But even it wasn't, it is clear to me that it didn't transcend time, since now-a-days most of the young people, haven't heard about the movie at all.

The first fifteen minutes are very interesting.  The son betraying his whole family in exchange for a place in heaven is beautifully sordid.  But then Ripstein decides to focus on making a larger scale criticism on the Catholic church.  He distances the audience from the characters in order to let us see the bigger picture.  But the truth is watching a fiction which central theme is Catholics vs Jews is awfully boring,  Ripstein forgot the human aspect, the contradictions, the sordidness, that often characterize his work.  In my opinion, he should've focused on the brother that sold his family to the inquisition, not on the brother that thinks  Judaism is the one and only true religion. 

Anyway, more than just that, I think the movie isn't good because you never empathize with the character, it's too slow and the rhythm is completely off most of the time, the acting isn't that good, and there aren't any cool camera movements.

Loves of a Blonde (1965) Milos Forman

I'm a big fan of Czech cinematography.  I find it to be genuinely simple and tenderly sincere.  This movie is very sweet and moving, but I'm not sure it's actually a movie, I thought of it more as the beginning of a movie. 

 

Milos Forman doesn't rush things.  He takes his time to let, the world he's creating, fully develop.  He filmed a detailed introduction of the characters and took more than half of the movie to finally define the conflict, which I think, was a wise decision since it allows you to truly get involved and empathize with the characters.

What I didn't understand is why he decided to end it so fast.  The truth is I was really enjoying the way the story was coming to life, and I wanted to see more of the romance between Andula and Milda, I was craving for more conflict or maybe just for Milda to smile again.  I was loving the way things were going and when I saw "the end" I felt very frustrated.  Maybe Milos Forman ran out of money, or maybe he really thought that was all there was to the story, but I find to be a shame since it was only beginning to go somewhere.

Black Swan (2010) Darren Aronofsky

Last Sunday I went to watch Black Swan.  I had great expectations, since almost everybody that had seen it, had told me it was by far the best movie of the year.  I've watched almost all of Aronofsky's films and consider myself to be a huge fan of his work.  The truth is, high expectations are the worst curse on a movie you're about to see... almost unequivocally they'll be left unfilled.



Black Swan is a great movie.  It has the best Natalie Portman's performance ever.  She's just mind-blowing, and honestly I'm not sure the movie would sustain itself without her.  There's not enough words to describe how unbelievably good her acting is, and I think everybody will agree with me on that one. 

The cinematography is beautiful.  The choreography between the camera and the ballet dancers is simply perfect, it's smooth and tender but powerful and dynamic... it has the best balance.  The 16mm film was a great idea, with all that grainy texture and high contrasting images, the movie gets the right atmosphere.

I had a problem with the sound design.  I think the film uses too much music.  I know the idea is to reinforce the metaphor of the ballet "The Swan Lake" coming to life through Nina's schizophrenic mind, but I think my whole problem with the movie was just that, Aronosfosky being afraid of the metaphor not being comprehensible... I think his mistake was to underestimate the audience ability to grasp metaphors and hidden meanings.  The same goes to the sequence of the last dance, with the black feathers in Nina's arms and the red eyes... that was too much for my taste, I found it to be too obvious.

The other thing I didn't like about the movie, aside from Mila Kunis and Barbara Hershey's acting, was the representation of the black swan coming to life... the drugs, the promiscuous sex, the lesbian experience, the rebellious attitude towards her mom, the seducing of the teacher... I think they're all cliches of teenagers going wrong.  Aronofsky has enough talent and could have easily escaped the trite stereotypes and give the evil in the black swan the transcendence it deserves. Maybe if he had dared to explore a little further the self-mutilation instinct in Nina... but that's just a thought.

In conclusion I think it's a great movie, and people should definitely watch it and learn from it.  But I don't think it's Aronofsky's best work, I still think Requiem for a Dream and Pi are way better.  So go watch it, just don't go with extremely high expectations and you'll definitely enjoy it.

Principio y Fin (1993) Arturo Ripstein

Despite the fact that he's commonly underrated by the Mexican audience and critics,  Arturo Ripstein is definitely one of the best Mexican filmmakers.  From all his movies I've watched, I think Principio y Fin is my favorite.  There's no doubt that it's completely sick and depraved, but I think that's what makes it so good, it isn't shy about its own essence, but rather upfront and forward about it.



I have to say that the beginning isn't that good, actually it's awful...it feels overacted and over-dramatized.  I think it was a risky choice to begin with the father's death, since it's hard to empathize with the suffering of strangers... and when you get too close too fast to the suffering of others, their reactions tend to feel too real and it becomes awkward.  

The movie begins to take shape during the sequence of the brothel and the carousel and Guama singing... the whole scene is beautifully decadent.  The place, the drawings of naked women in the walls, the people, the darkness, the song, the long take, the movement of the camera perfectly well-done... And from that moment on the movie starts to rise, and until the very last minute it never lets you down.

It's amazing that being such a long film, and filled with all those long takes, it doesn't get boring or tiring.  The truth is most of the long takes are simply brilliant.  I mean, you might not like the movie, you might find it too raw or something, but you gotta give Ripstein credit for the way he moves the camera... the way he choreographs all his scenes... he really knows what he's doing.

Ripstein keeps pushing you to the edge, all the time testing your limits... the whole sexual tension latent between, and throughout, the whole family... the scene where Nicolás and Isabel start a sexual foreplay in front of her sick dad, the scene where Gabo unvirginzes his own girlfriend against her will with his fingers and then makes a joke about the whole thing, the way Gabo asks his sister to kill herself in order to regain the family (or may I say, his own) pride.  It's abominable, that last scene is simply tragical... the whole movie has this aura of a Greek tragedy... I guess that's the only way it could have ended.

Interno (2010) Andrea Borbolla

In a country where most of the cinema that's being created is negatively violent, it's a relief to find someone with the ability to approach in such a positive way, a subject which is so dark by nature... life in prison.  I had heard very good critics about this documentary, but I was very skeptic.  I'm glad to say it proved me wrong.



I really enjoyed watching it.  It has a very clear and progressive structure, which I always appreciate.  But the thing I liked most, was the way Andrea was able to connect with the prisoners.  They let her, and her crew, into their lives, and their crimes, their fears and regrets.  You get to see the human side all criminals have, but we rather dismiss, since it's easier to think of them as social scum, than to admit they are nothing but confused human beings, just like we are.

I think this documentary teaches us a great lesson about life, freedom and spirituality.  It confronts our already established ideas, and hopes to open us to a different way of relating to life.  I've never considered myself to be a spiritual person, but I have to be honest, this documentary really moved me into reconsidering it as a way of life. 

Some people say the documentary is too optimistic, too positive... it makes me wonder why is it that we find it so hard to believe life can sometimes be that way?  why doesn't anybody reproach when a documentary shows the negative side?  We tend to consider it to be critical, which has a positive connotation, instead of naive, which has a negative connotation.

The only thing I didn't like was the title in spanish, but I think that in english works very well... Within... like the Beatle's song... Life goes on within you or without you...

Two Coffees (2010) Talía Aach / If We Are Still Alive (2010) Juliana Fanjul

These two shortfilms are thesis of the Escuela Internacional de Cine y Televisión de San Antonio de los Baños (EICTV).  The truth one should never expect too much of a student's film, they always seem to be missing something.  Curiously enough, that was true only for one of them.  Here it goes.


Two Coffees.

It's a regular student film.  There's not much to it.  The sound recording is not good, you can barely understand a word they're saying.  It's true... they are old and Cuban, but still, one should be able to understand the mumbling.  The film has some good frames, but also some huge mistakes in exposition.  Leaving aside the technical aspects, I think in general the story doesn't work.  The film ends and one is still trying to understand what was it that the director wanted to tell with it... nothing really happens... of course the old man and the old woman are wonderful, but that has all to do with them being themselves, and nothing to do with the documentary being good.  In conclusion, I did not like it.


If We Are Still Alive

It's a morbid, and to a certain extent, obscene picture of old age.  It's simply fascinating.  It has a very Frederick Wiseman-like style, which I absolutely love.  It confronts us with the desperate reality of having to turn gray and old.  Technically it's great.  I loved the use of the long-lenses and the chiaroscuro, it helps generate the proper atmosphere for the story that's evolving underneath.  Overall, I find it to be a great shortfilm.  It moves you... generates doubts, opinions, and discussions, the way all films should... Loved it.

Closely Watched Trains (1966) Jirí Menzel

I love this film.  I simply do.  I find it to be truly sincere and honest.  It's real and unpretentious... it just is what it is... and that's what I love most about this film.  Jirí Menzel doesn't pretend to have all the answers, he doesn't try to persuade you of thinking the way he does, he doesn't show off or try to get you to admire him, he simply shows you life in one of its many representations and that's it, he's happy just by telling you this story, there's no secret agenda.



The main character, Milos, is simple wonderful.  He's so genuine.  It's almost as if he were being himself in front of the camera.  All that clumsiness in his sexual awakening is tenderly tragical.  At the same time it's impossible not to relate to those feelings of failure and doubt, we've all experienced them and we all know what it's like to feel like we're not properly designed for this life, it's terrifying... feeling you're alone in your own bizarreness.

The story unfolds itself naturally.  Menzel makes it seem as if making films filled with life were easy and simple... In every take, in every actor, in every conflict, life is there... the film is simply brilliant! I have nothing but good things to say about it.

Love Conquers All (2006) Tan Chui Mui

I have nothing against slow movies, or fixed cameras, or low-budget films.  But this film, I think I didn't understand... or maybe I just didn't understand the reason why the director thought it was a story worth telling.  The truth is I got bored watching it.  I kept on thinking it was about to get interesting, but that moment never arrived.  I didn't empathize with the characters and the vision of life it describes is a little too cynical and frivolous for my taste... depressing I'd say.  The film finally ends, but nothing changes... you're still trying to tie all those loose ends the director left...  What was it about?  A bizarre love story? just a time in the life of someone else?  I don't know... maybe I'm just not smart enough for this type of films.

Rehje (2009) Raúl Cuesta and Anais Huerta

The first time I tried to watch this documentary I decided to turn it off instead.  A couple of months later I had to watch it as part of my job.  The truth is, the second time,  I didn't find it as unbearable as I had the first.  Still, I didn't like it.

 

Antonia is quite a character and her story is very interesting indeed, but I found her voice-over excessive and a little tiring, as well as boring.  I would've enjoyed more close-ups, more of Antonia living her life, instead of just listening to her tell it.  I felt as if the directors had had many recordings of Antonia's voice, but no real image to link it to, so they had decided to put in some landscapes and let the voice fill in the holes.  In the end, I don't think it works.  I believe you can tell, that the fact that they ended up with this documentary is merely chance, since, as they admitted, they were originally trying to do a documentary on drought.

The documentary's techniques are all over the place, which makes it lack a style. That, I find disturbing but I can learn to live with it, but the fact that I never felt connected to the character, and that I couldn't never really empathize with her... that, is what makes me think that the documentary doesn't work.

Vertigo (1958) Alfred Hitchcock

Despite it not being successful when it was first released in the U.S. nowadays, most critics firmly believe this is Hitchock's best film, Chris Marker honored it in Sans Soleil, and nobody can deny, the Vertigo Zoom has done wonders for thrillers.  It is, without a doubt, one of the best films ever made.

 

One of my favorite scenes is when Scottie and Madeleine are at the forest observing the rings on the trunk of the tree.  The way she points at the moment she was born and at the moment she died, then says "it was only an instant to you", as if she were speaking to the tree... but is she really speaking to the tree? or is she referring to the tree just because it is the closest and most tangible example she has of eternity?  which is quite a complex concept...

In Vertigo time changes texture.  It becomes  liquid, one can't apprehend it anymore, one becomes aware of that... all of the sudden we're dead, just like Madeleine, because time kept on flowing, and it arrived at our death, but kept on flowing, leaving us only with the trace of the path we must follow to arrive at our death just in time.

What about the spiral?  in the trunk, in the titles, in the way the policeman falls, in the hair, in the tower and the steps?  I think it is pointing to a greater spiral, the one hidden in the story, the spiral of time. The movie seems to be repeating itself, just like a spiral.  First, Scottie meets Madeleine, they become friends, later fall in love, and it all ends when she throws herself from the tower.  Then Scottie meets Judy, which is the real name of Madeleine, they become friends and fall in love, it all ends when Judy throws herself from the tower, this time for real.  But we all know the two love stories were never the same.  Even though, it's clearer with Madeleine/Judy's character, Scottie too, wasn't the same person that fell in love with Madeleine, that he was after her death.  This is why, no matter how hard they tried, despite the fact that they were both physically the same people, Scottie and Judy had changed, and so had their love, so things could never go back to the way they were because they were already in a different point of the spiral of time, also known as life.

 

Tron, The Legacy (2010) Joseph Kosinski

I have heard many comments about this film being the most disappointing of the year.  The truth is I don't understand why.  I think the movie turned out to be just what it had promised to be.  It has great visual effects but the story isn't worth a penny.  Just like Transformers, you don't go to watch it expecting to find great acting and/or a meaningful and deep story, do you?

I watched it in 3D and I have to admit I had never enjoyed 3D (not even during Avatar) until now.  The motorcycle races, the fights, the virtual world, they are all mind-blowing.  I loved the whole idea of the lines and how they play with them, bending them, stretching them, transforming them into countless objects.  I also thought it was very clever to let us watch Daft Punk play the soundtrack of the movie as the fighting evolved.  That way, the idea of bits getting transformed into different songs, gets a whole new meaning.

Evidently the script of the film is filled with mistakes, but there is one that I think is tragical.  Isn't  the grid supposed to be a virtual world?  How come they get inside with their body as well?  Because if you need your body, then the space is tangible, which would make the grid need all that space in order to exist.  So, where is it hidden?  Where can you find that much space to utilize?  and if  Quorra is nothing but an ISO algorithm in this "virtual world" how come she has a body in the real world?  Well, they clearly didn't give it much of a thought before they started shooting, so maybe I shouldn't either.

Frost/Nixon (2008) Ron Howard

To be honest, I didn't know about the existence of this film.  When I started watching it, I thought it was an 80's film, it wasn't until I IMDB it, that I realized it was actually quite recent.  I don't remember hearing about it anything at all, which is funny since I find the topic to be of great interest, and since it's a Universal Studios production.  Somehow this film managed to pass unnoticed, despite the fact that I found it to be a very good film.

 

I think this movie is pretty standard in most of its technical aspects, the photography, the editing, the sound design, etc stay on the safe side, just as most commercial movies do.  But the story and acting are great.  

The truth is I was very tired when I started watching this film, but by the end of it I was so engaged to the story that I wasn't sleepy anymore.  I find that to be a great achievement, mainly due to Ron Howard's ability to tell a story.

It's funny because even if you don't have a clue about this interviews ever taking place, a part of you suspects that if Frost had failed, they probably wouldn't have made the film, so in a way you know how everything's going to end, yet the process of all the interviews, the whole rhythm, keeps you biting your nails the whole time, never forgetting this is the only chance, always hoping he will able to defeat Nixon... the tension is always there, that's why I find it to be a very good movie.

Lulu on the bridge (1998) Paul Auster

A friend convinced us of watching this film.  I had seen the cover many times before, but I had never actually rented it.  Then I found out Paul Auster was the director and I thought it'd be interesting to watch.  The truth is, it wasn't.  It was probably the worst movie I've seen this year.

It starts just fine.  Though I wasn't quite sure about the lighting, I thought the story was being told without any problems.  But then, after the sequence with the three girls dancing in the room, the movie starts to fall deeper and deeper into a bigger hole.  There is absolutely no chemistry between Harvey Keitel's and Mira Sorvino's characters, the acting is terrible, the photography is horrendously plain, the dialogues are unrealistic, it is filled with cliches and common places, the story is corny and feels exaggerated, in conclusion, there is not one single reason this movie is worth your time.  The worst part of it, is that in the end, it all turns out to be a dream, which is a very cowardly solution since there is no actual commitment to the story.  Everything turns out to be pointless.

The movie ended and I asked my friends if they had enjoyed it.  The answer was that they had hated it.  We couldn't understand why being Paul Auster's, it had such a bad script.  I've never read any of his novels but one of my friends had, and he said he was good... but this story had no way of being fixed.  I've always thought writers should write and directors should direct, but in this case, I think Paul Auster should just stick to writing novels.

Saturday Night Fever (1977) John Badham

I was watching tv and stumbled upon The Inside Story of Saturday Night Fever, I started watching the program and realized I'd never seen that film.  Being a milestone of the 70's pop-culture I thought it was about time I watch it.

 

This movie is what it promises to be.  I liked it.  It portraits the 70's generation in a crude, sarcastic way.  It makes fun of the cliches, which is uncommon to see now-a-days... it's honest and it doesn't pretend to be something it's not.  There are a couple of things I did not like, though.   I think that during the sequence of the competition, the slow-motion and the kiss, as well as the last sequence and the final freeze-frame, are just cheesy and unnecessary.  But other than that I think it's a good movie.  The dances, the clothes, the music, the story... it all works just fine.

The Face of Another (1966) Hiroshi Teshigahara

Even though Teshigara is a great and well-known director, I had only seen one of his films, Woman in the Dunes... which I had loved.  So, when I ran into The Face of Another, I did not hesitate, despite the fact that I hadn't heard anything about it.

This film blew my mind.  I know these philosophical questions and confrontations about identity and masks are really old and have been explored a thousand of times in cinema (Kagemusha, Being John Malkovich, The Man in the Iron Mask, Synecdoche New York, Zelig, The Mask) just for naming a few of them, but I think this is one of the best works I've seen on the subject.

Since you never get to see Mr. Okuyama before the accident, you can't picture his face.  He could be just anybody, there's no way of recognizing him... the man without a face.  Just as the character says it, you'll never remember him,  not even as the man with the face of another.  But what does this mean?  Is he identity-less just as he is faceless?  Anybody could steal his identity because he doesn't own it.  He looks in the mirror and there's nothing there, not a smile... nor a frown.

How can "the inside be what matters" when there's no expression of it on the exterior?  There's no communication between your interior and the world outside.  It's like being the best guitar player but never letting anybody listen to you play... does it matter that you're the best if there's no proof of it? can you be the best without no one knowing?  The same applies... Can you be happy without the ability to share a smile?  can you connect in a deeper level with anybody at all, if you can't even share a look?  All these philosophical teachings that tell us not to pay attention to the outside, not to judge a book by its cover, are being unhealthily radical. Our face, our surface is the main connection to our inside, if it's broken or damaged, holes will be left in our being that will later need to be filled.

Later on, Teshigahara gives the story a very interesting twist... right when the psychiatrist gives him his "mask" or his new identity.  The way he tries to seduce his wife, whom he feels doesn't love him anymore, as somebody else... I find that perversely natural.  Then, when he finally achieves it... just the idea of having lost his wife to himself... because in the end he is Mr. Okuyama before the accident, just as he is the man with the bandages mask, and the man with the face of another... but why is it that he feels more like himself as a man with no face than as a man with the face of another? If the inside is truly what matters, that makes no sense whatsoever, yet it is also true that we perceive the faceless Mr. Okuyama completely different from the face-of-another Mr. Okuyama.  Why is that?  Is  it just us being seduced by his new face or could it be, that he is changing his inside depending on his outside?  I think he just feels more comfortable having an open dialog with the outside world and that reflects on both his mood and our perception of him.

I think this movie deserves to be seen many more times... and deserves to be written about, even more, because there is just to much to it.  I would just like to close paraphrasing the last that is said in the movie:  Some masks can be removed, but some can't.

Clean, Shaven (1993) Lodge Kerrigan

I was walking around a video center figuring out what I would watch next.   When I got to the Criterion selection I looked around, and a movie jumped to my sight... I grabbed it, turned it around, read the synopsis and decided it was worth my while.  Gladly I was right.

Clean, Shaven is simply a great movie.  Visually and soundwise is mind blowing.  I loved the constant close-ups, the dutch angles, the car-travelings with only fragments of landscape to be seen, the feeling it gives you all of the above, as if the camera had been misplaced; the wires, the static, the murmurs, the lack of dialogues, the rhythm, the whole sound design, everything is simply great, for it goes hand-by-hand with the narrative and creates a fascinatingly morbid world.

Half way through the movie, I still wasn't sure what I was going to think about it in the end.  I had my doubts.  I thought maybe Kerrigan was just trying too hard for the story to work.  Some questions kept coming to my mind, like "why would they let him get out of the mental institution when he's clearly still mentally unstable?" or  "why would they let him behave like that at a public library?".  I'm still not sure that by the end I got the answer to my questions, but I think it has to do with the subjectivity of a schizophrenic.  Things are not meant to be clear.  Actually, things are not even meant to be real.  How could we take it all as utterly truthful facts when throughout the whole movie, the director keeps underlining the idea of it meaning to be completely subjective?

By the end of the movie I had this nostalgic/guilty state of mind. The movie reminded me of Mary Shelley's novel, Frankenstein.  Peter is a good guy at heart, just like Dr. Frankenstein's monster was, but they were both misunderstood.  They were so different to the rest, that people had to believe they were evil, because we're supposed to fear the unknown.  I couldn't help getting identified with both  Peter and the detective.  I think we all have one of each inside of us.  Most people end up killing their inner Peter because their just too afraid of it, of not understanding and controlling it... but I think we should give our inner Peter a chance to show us that he's not the bad guy, he's just different and confused. 

The Next Three Days (2010) Paul Haggis

There's a tradition in my family, every Sunday (as long as it's not the classical music concert season) we go to the theaters and watch a film, almost always picked by my father, which turns out to be a really bad movie.  Today it was, as always, a failed movie.

The Next Three Days seems to be two movies in one.  The first half is unbearable.  The rhythm is completely off, the acting is awful, the drama feels forced, and you can't keep yourself from asking "weren't we supposed to be watching an action film?"  Well, there's no action at all in the first half of the film, there's only a story that doesn't quite seem to have a reason for being told. 

The truth is all you've got is a lady, played by Elizabeth Banks, that allegedly murdered her boss, and even though her husband, Russel Crowe, believes she's innocent, all the evidence shows that she's guilty.  So, you as an audience, can't help but thinking that she deserves to be in jail, and since you don't empathize at all with her, (due to the first and only scenes you get to see her living a normal life) you're kind of glad she is in jail. 

And then there's Russel Crowe's obsession with rescuing her wife and going back to the way things were, but since he has a lovely kid and a great looking woman, played by Olivia Wilde, is totally hitting on him, you can't help but thinking "why all the effort for getting this crazy lady out of jail?  Why not just move on and try to be happy with what life's offering you?"  But no, this guy's truly obsessed. 

So, then you start to get the feeling that Elizabeth Bank's character doesn't want to be rescued at all.  And then you're thinking there's some potential there, right?  You got a guy who wants to rescue a girl who doesn't want to be rescued.  Don't we all relate to this in a way?  Haven't we all needed so badly to believe in something that we completely forgot to think if it was worth believing in it or not?  Now, there's a great story, but for telling that story you need great acting, mind-blowing dialogues, credible situations, and great character's chemistry (to mention a few) and those are things this movie is lacking, because it wasn't supposed to be this kind of movie, it was only meant to be an action film.

The second half, you get the action you were waiting for, but at this point you're already so bored by trying to decipher what's the whole point of the first half of the movie, that you have stopped caring that the movie is going to end up the way you always knew it would.  So when it finally ends that way, heroic, corny, predictable, and filled with all sort of Hollywood's unlikely-to-happen-even-if-the-whole-police-and-criminals-were-completely-daft kind of scenes, you're just glad it ended.

Sin Nombre (2009) Cary Fukunaga

I had heard about this film from a friend of mine, Tenoch Huerta, who is part of the cast - plays the leader of the Mara Salvatrucha at the beginning of the movie - and he had told me, he felt very proud of the movie.  He said I should watch it, but I never got to it, until now that I'm searching for movies that have to do with immigration.

I liked the movie.  Predictable as it is, I think it works.  It's cruel and raw, and though it's nothing we've never seen before, (Cidade de Deus, 2002) it describes, accurately enough, the life in the Mexican south border.  I like the way Fukunaga intertwines the love story, with what people have to go through in order to cross to the United States, with what it means to be part of the Mara Salvatrucha.  The connecting thread of this three themes, as well as the leitmotiv of the film, becomes the desperate need to belong.  Saira mentions how she's never felt accepted nowhere, which makes her decide to follow Casper, a guy who just risked his life to save hers; Saira's uncle and father are migrating to where they think they belong, which is next to their family; Casper isn't able to defend his girlfriend due to fear of being kicked out of the Maras; Smiley kills Casper because it is the test he needs to pass in order to truly belong to the Mara Salvatruchas.  

In the end, even though it might seem like a very local theme, it truly is treating a much more deeper, meaningful and universal matter, it is confronting us, asking us, "how far are you willing to go in order to belong?"  We end up incapable of judging the characters because we know where they come from, we know how they feel, in all different kind of ways, we have been them, and we too have done things that go against our nature in order to belong.

Reds (1981) Warren Beatty

I was looking for films that could fit in a season of films on journalists, and found a website that enlisted 100 films on journalism.  Reds was number 33.  I clicked on it, read the synopsis and went down to get it.  I thought I was going to watch a film about the "true story" of John Reed, the radical American journalist,  but instead I ended up watching a very badly disguised chick-flick. 

In my opinion, Warren Beatty was truly interested in John and Louise's passionate love story, but was actually to afraid to admit it, so he threw in all this material where we see John being a reporter, traveling to Russia, fighting for his ideals... and Louise writing her articles, working at Paris, being a feminism supporter... which only end up making the movie too frustrating long, since it never seems to be reaching nowhere, instead of just focusing on their love story. 

In a way I think you can draw a parallelism between John and Louise's relationship and the movie itself.  The way Louise is always asking John to define the relationship, always asking him "as what" will she be accompanying him.  John never gets to admit that he wants her to go as the love of his life, not even in the end, when he's dying in bed and he draws the question back at her, and she responds as comrades and he nods back in response.  Throughout the whole movie they try to be it all, coworkers, comrades, friends, lovers, husband and wife... but the truth is that they're more important to each other than they'll get themselves to admit... they're each others soul mates.  Perhaps the relationship would've worked better if they had been completely honest with themselves.  The same goes for the movie, Beatty tries too hard for it to be everything it's not, a film on journalism, a political film, a revolutionary film, a feminist film, a biography film, etc, instead of actually facing that, for him, it was always meant to be a film about a love story.