I really enjoyed The Outsider though there was an awful lot of down time in the second half--eight hours might well have sufficed rather than ten. Now I'm going to bed.
Ben Mendelsohn has acquired Mads and Viggo status with me. I will watch him in anything. I'll try to locate The Outsider.
I've also noticed that personally. I'm more into mindless stuff where I don't have to think too much, or where most everything is chewed for me (where I don't have to think).
Is it my imagination or does Hollywood not make comedies anymore? There seems to be endless Superhero, Horror, Sci-fi, Revenge shooter films, but few comedies. The 'Comedy' seems to have gone the way of the Western. (talking film not tv series here)
I also used to watch a lot more TV news, but since January the TV is off more. As a Sens fan the games aren't that interesting. I'm watching more content from my PC screen (even films if watching alone). I might be on my way to cutting the cord...
Also reading more non-fiction thrillers lately which is weird because I prefer non-fiction. Which reminds me, Michael Lewis' The Premonition: A Pandemic Story is released tomorrow. (non-fiction, I believe) https://www.amazon.ca/Premonition-P...&keywords=michael+lewis&qid=1620068479&sr=8-1
Haven't seen Noah, looks pretty boring to me, and I don't remember much of Mother! but I have it at 7/10. I just Googled it and it does have quite a few reviews underlying its pretentiousness. So why is it pretentious? Is it because it has themes that were not developed as much, or in the way you thought they should have been? Is there at any point in the film something that indicates that it pretends to be more than what it is?
I feel there's something that belongs to the reading contract in this reaction, but I fail to see how it is perceived by the reader.
And is every experimental film pretentious? Most of them you can't decipher exhaustively, so they don't really bring their thematics to fruition.
I really enjoyed The Outsider though there was an awful lot of down time in the second half--eight hours might well have sufficed rather than ten. Now I'm going to bed.
The Sonatine one is beautiful. I actually just watched it the last week, and it left quite an impression. It is slow, and it goes nowhere for the majority of the movie, but somehow, the ending just ties it all together, and it becomes a rather intriguing experience that lingers in the mind of the audience. I also find it rather interesting how fatalistic it is too. At the time, Kitano was depressed, partly because his movies has all been commercial failures in Japan, and a short time later, he became involved in a very bad accident that he later admitted to be a suicide attempt. Thus, this movie is rather personal, and in a way, it is his personal letter to the world. That is why despite its rather unusual pace and general roughness, there is also a heartfelt authenticity that makes a connection with the audience. I still think Hana-bi is his magnus opus, due to the more consistent pace and emotional connection, but this one is definitely one of his best works.
(my chair though seems to think that's it's kind of pretentious to pretend to know what a film is "thinking").
One can be wrong but I don't think it's silly for one to make an attempt. We do it every day in all walks of life. Movies have a self-awareness and many movies have public service in mind when being produced and released. You think it's always wrong on the part of the audience to make an attempt deducing what a film is thinking? I don't know that it's particularly important in the grand scheme of things - and surely, on a case by case basis, it can be pretentious - but by and large I see it more as a dialogue between art and recipient than anything else.
I understand - and appreciate - the point that you make about a viewer's perception of a movie saying more about the viewer than it does about the film but that idea that a film can't think is one that on the surface, I can't co-sign. All movies come from thinkers (i.e., a human being in the process of creating) and thus can't be separated from it. Most filmmakers have intent, goals, a desire to communicate (not all, but most) either something personal or universal. That inherently infers a self-awareness to a movie that can be perceived by (either rightfully or wrongfully) a viewer. Whether he's astute enough to do it correctly (or the movie crafted well-enough to communicate what it wants in an understood fashion - if that's what it wants to achieve) is a different dilemma.
Or maybe I've completely misunderstood you. I read the argument a couple of days ago.
Speaking to mother! specifically since it would probably be one of my go-to examples of what I consider to be a pretentious movie. Well there is the actual title which is lowercase m and an exclamation point. I'd get a good natured laugh out of it if I wasn't so certain Aronfosky is very very serious. There are things I liked visually and conceptually about the movie, but I just couldn't shake the constant feeling Aronofsky was shouting at me "YOU DON'T GET IT, MAN!" while I feel like I very much did get it.
I have. Me, too. Have you seen Babyteeth? Probably my favourite Mendelsohn performance.If you haven’t had a chance, check out The Land of Steady Habits.
It’s one of my favorite Mendelsohn films.
You can understand the film (or any other art object) as a proposition (or a thought), but it is a finite one. It is not in the act of thinking, it can't produce the will necessary to be pretentious, to pretend to be (or to do, or to understand) something it is not (well, maybe it is possible - I can't see how right now - but that would be in itself an amazing feat and a grand artwork). Of course, filmmakers have intent and a desire to communicate, but films don't - film is the medium, the message that has to be read. You could say films carry an intention and I'd be fine with that, but that intention belongs to their maker(s) (and in the case of films, this is complicated).
What I understand from this is that mother! (I didn't even remember it was lower case) makes you think that Aronofsky is pretentious. Well, a lot of people feel the same way about Godard. You might be right, I don't know, but I still don't think it makes the movie pretentious. The lowercase and exclamation point are very interesting because it's the first concrete example that was proposed in this discussion. Is this pretentious or are you using it to amplify a trait you already associate to the filmmaker? Can the lower case and asterisk be read as pretentious in the case of *batteries not included?
You can understand the film (or any other art object) as a proposition (or a thought), but it is a finite one. It is not in the act of thinking, it can't produce the will necessary to be pretentious, to pretend to be (or to do, or to understand) something it is not (well, maybe it is possible - I can't see how right now - but that would be in itself an amazing feat and a grand artwork). Of course, filmmakers have intent and a desire to communicate, but films don't - film is the medium, the message that has to be read. You could say films carry an intention and I'd be fine with that, but that intention belongs to their maker(s) (and in the case of films, this is complicated).
That's what we've been saying, but you keep arguing with it. When I or someone else pointed that out, you replied that a filmmaker's pretentiousness "doesn't affect his films." Now, you're agreeing that a film can carry the intention of the filmmaker. When kihei pointed out that "pretentious film" and "what the film is thinking" are simply figures of speech to indicate the intention of the filmmaker, you stayed focused on the figures of speech not being literally true (when a figure of speech, by its very definition, is not literally true). Ironically, in a discussion about intent, you're ignoring our intent and being dismissive because of a technicality, which is being obtuse and confusing because you're apparently "fine" with our intended argument.
Consider this: just as people like to talk about "pretentious films," you seem to like to talk about "reflexive films." To quote Mubi.com, "a reflexive film is a film with self-awareness." How can a film be self aware, though, if it has no mind and cannot think? You might argue that "self aware" is just a figure of speech, but then you'd be arguing what we're arguing with "pretentious." Are you willing to give up the idea that films can be reflexive just to hold firm that they can't be pretentious... or can you just accept what everyone means when they call a film pretentious, instead of being anal about it?
I have. Me, too. Have you seen Babyteeth? Probably my favourite Mendelsohn performance.
Let's stop . You don't believe there is such a thing as pretentious movies; and I do. You requested explanation and examples and I gave them to you. You didn't like them. Fine. We have reached the tedious level now. Enough is enough.
Teorema (1968) Directed by Pier Paolo Pasolini 3B
The movie starts out with some establishing shots around factories before it settles in on the stately home of a rich factory-owning bourgeoisie in a household that consists of himself and his wife, their son and daughter, and a maid. When we first visit this household, Pasolini shoots the scenes with a brown filter and no sound. Lips move but we can’t hear what they say (Pink Floyd reference, eh?). Why? Because he can. Presto chango, we suddenly have colour as now a small party is taking place. One figure stands out, a handsome but innocuous-looking young man (Terence Stamp). Of course, he doesn’t have a name being a heavyweight symbol and all, so I'll just refer to him as Terry. We don’t know who he is or why he is there (the family doesn't seem to either), but he’s real important. It isn’t that he seduces the entire family, oh, no; rather the entire family seduces him, one by one. The maid is first up to bat, mowing the lawn, staring at his crotch (there is a lot of male crotch ogling in this movie) and running off to the kitchen, er, twice. The second time she does that, she seems to harm herself and Terry comes to the rescue. Nudge, nudge.Then the son slips into Terry’s bed before retreating in embarrassment, no problem, Terry slides over. The wife also is reticent but takes off all her clothes and lays on the veranda naked inviting him to join her; Terry obliges. The daughter follows soon thereafter, and soon the husband, too, though that is a little subtler. Very little dialogue occurs in any of these scenes but there are a lot of very deeply concerned expressions on all the faces, really earnest looks, you know. Then Terry announce he is leaving, like, the next day. And off he goes after each of the seducers thanks him for what wonderful change he has brought to their lives. Bye, bye Terry; we hardly knew ye. Some folks think you are an angel; some think you are the devil. But I bet you can be read as both.
Some changes these people go through; I mean, wow: the son becomes a revolutionary artist trying to hide from the public his sudden knowledge that art is made by imperfect people; the pretty sister simply goes catatonic (a good choice methinks); the maid now can perform miracles and, as an added bonus, hover several feet above peasant shacks in the courtyard; the wife seeks the company of young men with whom she has passionless sex (then screams in her convertible, to show existential pain, I guess); and the husband contemplates giving his factory away while he strips naked in a railway station that somehow segues into a barren landscape, the same one we have seen brief glimpses of throughout the movie. He remains still naked tramping about in the symbolic wilderness and he is almost dead certain to miss his train. The final scene goes to the maid who has an old woman friend accompany her to an excavation site where she has her companion bury her alive, well, almost--she has a little bit of her eyes and nose peaking out. She reassures her friend that she is not dying, just contemplating things. The end.
Most of these scenes are presented with an inscrutability and mock seriousness that had me laughing more this time than the last time I saw this movie. What to make of this parable? Whatever you like, I guess. Pasolini was a Marxist and very anti-bourgeoisie, so you can play around with those clues if you like. He obviously wants his movie to be a statement of some kind seemingly about the state of society. But it all comes across as an exercise in pretentious self indulgence. Heavy stuff, man, but wtf, you know? There are a few markers of pretentious films in evidence. A book cover of Tolstoi, a collection of modernist paintings, and that old standby, a collection of poems by Rimbaud, all of which stand out to impress us about the high art we are dealing with here. As well, Mozart’s Requiem pops up at the damnedest times as background music to add makeshift gravity to whatever silly thing is going on at the moment. And then there are all the close ups of all the tortured people thinking really deep thoughts.
Teorema fits my Type 1 definition of a pretentious film, type 1 (Pretentious movie, type 1: any movie ( or director, if you prefer) that over-reaches for profundity that it (he) hasn’t achieved). But Teorema has elements of the other two definitions, as well, (post 6). I'm with former New Yorker film critic Paulene Kael on this one: "Some people profess to find spiritual sustenance in this movie; others break up on lines such as 'You came to destroy me' and 'I was living in a void,' and they find Pasolini's platitudes and riddles and the is-this-man-Christ-or-a-devil game intolerably silly." Yeah, and pretentious, too.
subtitles
Criterion Channel
^^^^^^^^^^^^
Haven't heard of it. Sounds interesting.
Apologies to him. I somehow missed his comment. Damn, I don't remember The House of the Devil. Probably not a good sign.ItsFineImFine will be happy to hear that, since he reviewed it last week.
I was thinking that it could be to your taste, and the pacing probably won't bother you, but your focus on the plot holes in The House of the Devil has me worried.
Got curious about Teorema as I haven't seen it in probably forty years. Sometimes opinions, especially visceral opinions, modify over time. This one obviously didn't.Ok, well...
I see you didn't have quite enough of that dead horse and had to go out of your way to try to "be right". But to crap on a film that obviously went straight over your head and just (re)affirm that it's pretentious, I'm not sure, it's probably just me because you have quite the following around here, but it kind of makes you look not-good. But anyway... now showing off books and using classical music is proof of a film's pretentiousness? I hope you realize this points to a lot of other works, and I think you should first reconsider the répertoire of films you praise (Godard? Rohmer?). And no, quoting the "funniest lines" of an opinion writer of 20-lines reviews doesn't make you right about a film's worth. Loads of people hated that film, others (maybe see Ricciardi's The Ends of Mourning: Psychoanalysis, Literature, Film) have used it to feed great ideas around and about cinema.
And I'm not saying Rachel and you are wrong to dislike the film. It's obviously not for everyone's tastes.