Movies: The Official "Movie of the Week" Club Thread III

[Jevo]

The Sunset Limited (2011) dir. Tommy Lee Jones

Two men alone in a run down apartment in New York. "Black", an ex-convict and born again Christian has just saved "White", an atheist professor, from an suicide on the subway. White still wants to kill himself, but for now is confined to Blacks apartment, where Black attempts to persuade White to abandon his plans. White feels his life and his life's works are meaningless in the grand scheme of things, and he sees no reason for him to continue living. Black on the other hand believes you need to go through life and all it's terribleness before you can get to paradise, and there's no short cut by train to paradise.

It's a play, and filmed very much like a play. One location, few camera positions. The problem with making a film out of a play, especially an intimate play like this one, is that often it ends up feeling lacking compared to the play. You will inherently lose intimacy when you go from stage to film. To make up for that loss directors often opt for close-ups to restore intimacy. The problem with close-ups are that they restrict physicality, which is important even in an intimate two person play like this. Jones does his best to try and find a balance between intimacy and allowing physical performances, and he does it well. It'll just never be as good as what you get in a theatre. What a film has over a play however is accessibility. It is much easier to find and see a film than a play, and recordings of plays are rarely satisfying to watch, as again the screen takes away the intimacy you would get in the theatre hall. And I probably would never have seen this play had Jones not made it into a movie.

Even with the inherent shortcomings The Sunset Limited has going in, it's a movie worth watching just for watching Tommy Lee Jones and Samuel L. Jackson going head to head. They are both giving excellent performances and are on top of their game for this. They also have a great script to work with that. It's a very dark subject matter being tackled here, and it's a movie that will probably stay with you for a while. I don't think either character can really be said to be right in this discussion that they are having. They are both right from their respective point of view, and at the end neither of them are able to convince the other that their position is correct. It's a grim ending, but also a reminder how big philosophical differences can be on relatively basic positions, between two people who grew up not very far from each other.

 

[Spring in Fialta]

The Sunset Limited (2011) - Jules Winnfield, now living in New York City, stops a suicidal professor from going through with the act while on his way to work. He takes him back to his apartment and tries to talk some God into him. He fails, despite a valiant attempt.

Tommy Lee Jones plays it smart here. He knows what's he got as a script. He doesn't try to divert away from it. Instead, every action in the film seems devoted to McCarthy's words. I like that the film is shot as a staged play. As someone who has begun to enjoy reading plays, I've always detested the theater as a physical artform, mostly because of the acting, which has to reach the entire audience. The movie allows the actors to focus on the words on how they should be portrayed if there was nobody else in the room. It makes for a rewarding experience, especially since both Tommy Lee Jones - who I find hams it up just a tiny wee bit towards the end - and Samuel L. Jackson, who is flawless, both knock it out of the park. Their delivery is first-rate. I loved the way they interpreted the words. A director with worse sensibilities could have goofed it up by keeping an overly serious tone throughout the entire film. I don't think it would have ruined it, but I think a lot was gained by the humor and kindness that's presented, especially during the first hour or so. I did find the music a tad too dramatical/corny as well, especially during White's speech. But the script is excellent. While the debate dominates the conversation, I find that there is a consistent underlying attempt by JW to save the professor's life not solely by religious argument/spirituality, but by friendship. There's the true attempt, I find. He kids him. He brakes bread with him. He tells him entertaining stories. Through his religious approach, one gets the sense that JW is trying to convince himself as much as he's trying to convince the Professor. Unfortunately for him, it doesn't last. Winnfield is defeated by a passionate and nightmarish speech by the Professor. The ending is particularly poignant. A preacher weeps for the words he does not have. He asks why he was put in such a position.

Tommy Lee Jones isn't a bad director. I'd be interested in checking out other stuff he's directed. Also, while this won't be the most remembered or widely read work in McCarthy's canon, it's a worthy entry. The dialogue is striking: “ Your god must once have stood at a dawn of infinite possibilities, and this is what he's made of it. You tell me that I want God's love? I don't. Perhaps I want forgiveness, but there's no-one to ask it of. ''

Damn, the movie lingers.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

The Sunset Limited
Jones (2011)
“Show me a religion that prepares one for nothingness, for death. That’s a church I might enter.”

Black, an ex-con and current minister, saves White, a depressed college professor, from suicide. He takes and traps the man in his apartment to keep him safe. A 90-minute religious and philosophical debate ensues.

This is a sturdy two-hander. Based on a play, not surprisingly. We open en media res. It takes a little bit of time and talk before we learn who these men are and why they’re in the place they’re in (though it isn’t hard to guess). It’s a testament to the writing that there were some small stretches where I contemplated if we’re seeing reality or some sort of fantasy. Are these two men actually in a New York tenement or somewhere else? A purgatory like spiritual station of some sorts perhaps? What is beyond that door? The real world? Heaven? Hell? Ultimately this is an earth-based story, high minded though it be.

I shoudn’t have concerned myself with questions of reality. The writer is Cormac McCarthy, not a fantasist by any means and one who holds humanity in very dim view. As a fan of his writing — Blood Meridian is every bit the bleak masterpiece it is said to be — and films of his work — No Country for Old Men, The Road and I will defend The Counselor until my dying day — The Sunset Limited serves as a Cliff’s Notes version of his common themes. The cruel selfishness of humanity, the absence of god, the pain of emotional suffering. Why is White depressed? Because the world is awful. Black tries all the tricks he has, all the appeals, including sharing gruesome stories of his own sordid past. He’s a changed man. Thanks to god. White can be too. But it’s clear the suicidal man doesn’t want it. I’m not a religious man, but man I can’t help but feel the deck is stacked a little against Jackson’s character here. I kept feeling like a hammer was going to come and it eventually does. If we need to declare winners and losers here, I think White comes out on top.

It’s a masterful back-and-forth between the two. Jackson isn’t a far variation from a lot of the past characters he’s played. Boisterous and confident. Jones is a farther cry from his normal self. For a full two-thirds, he’s sad and weak. His naturally hang-dog features take on a new gravity. His face seems like it’s actually being pulled to the floor. Eyes are almost rimmed with tears. He’s like the city cousin to the character he played in No Country (maybe not a coincidence for his attraction to this material), though the former may have never grasped the world, while the latter once did, but couldn’t keep up. The conversion comes though he becomes the firebrand we’re most familiar with, pontificating and storming about.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

The Good Shepherd
DeNiro (2006)
“It’s always in somebody’s best interest to promote enemies real or imagined.”

The Good Shepherd follows Edward Wilson, a bright and elite college student as he’s recruited into the U.S.’s nascent intellingent services as it will eventually grow to become the CIA. There’s an overarching mystery about whom in their little cadre of spies potentially blew the Bay of Pigs Invasion, but otherwise we’re hitting an assortment of historical touch points key to the U.S. intelligence evolution. The human drama is a little inert, but the spycraft and the only lightly fictionalized historical accounting are pretty engaging.

I picked this because I’ve long maintained it’s one of the more underseen/underrated movies of the 2000s. Having rewatched it for the first time in probably about eight years, I still hold to that assertion. Mostly. Then again I’m a hard core wonk for espionage stories both real and imagined. I’m curious if the movie works for others when you don’t have a feel or interest for the real background. You may have at some point come across the most prominent promotional blurb from its release, which is Larry King calling it “The Godfather of spy movies” and as lofty as that praise sounds, I see it when I squint and I allllllllllmost agree. Both are epic in scope and have a central figure who is gradually corrupted as he becomes more empowered by the institute to which he’s decided to dedicate his life. He obtains power and control, but it comes at the cost of his soul. It’s an open question as to whether or not we, as a society, are better for it.

Wilson is a near total cipher and Damon sells blankness well. I recently instigated a DiCaprio vs. Damon debate elsewhere around these parts with my argument being that Leo is somewhat limited (or at least chooses to limit himself) whereas Damon is versatile. Not everything he does works, but he can do drama, comedy, action, at the very least competently if not excellently. This role, however, is one I think just about any peer could play (some maybe even better). But there really isn’t much to it, which I think is the point. There’s some forced family related drama that never really connects, though I think that’s more on the writing than the performance. Related, one thing that has never worked for me in multiple watches is Angelina Jolie. It’s mostly a failure of casting. Jolie, as talented as she can be, just isn’t a put-upon housewife. She doesn’t look the part and she sure as heck can’t sell it. She’s too Angelina Jolie. It’s a pretty weak (and maybe even offensive) character as well — pushy and manipulative at first, she morphs into a disapproving scold. As absentee as Edward is, his parenting seems to get a better portrayal than hers too so she doesn’t even get any generic “good mom” credit.

There’s a deep bench of supporting actors here to help color everything in. Michael Gambon, Billy Crudup and William Hurt were particular standouts to me. Lee Pace, an actor I have a soft spot for thanks to his TV work, is just too full bore smarm to fully work (ooof his final line about God and the CIA is a capital G groaner). If you know your history you’ll see many of the real life parallels — Wild Bill Sullivan, Allen Dulles, Kim Philby, Sam Giancana and Anatoly Golitsyn all have clear analogues here. WIlson is more of a composite. It isn’t a dry history though. The Bay of Pigs mystery is an effective driver and it comes to surprising reveal.

DeNiro is a capable director, but there is a very by-the-book feel to the movie. There’s some real newsreel footage early that’s encorporated and almost gives a low-key Oliver Stone vibe, but that never really resurfaces. A few showy, swooping shots that go from black-and-white to color feel like the editor (or DeNiro) just got a computer for the first time and wanted to play with effects.

How about that Damon response when Pesci asks him what “his people” believe in?
“The United States of America. The rest of you are just visiting.”
Painfully relevant today.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Looks like my next pick is going to come around the end of September/early October, which is spooky season. So I will go with John Carpenter's The Thing.

 

[kihei]

The Good Shepherd (2006) Directed by Robert De Niro

This tale of a patriotic straight-shooter (Matt Damon) who has been groomed to become an intelligence agent pretty much left me cold. I found it a rather obvious political drama. While I am firmly onside with its presentation of a dysfunctional US intelligence community and the price that exerts on its agents, the movie just sort of sat there like a lump. I thought it was neither well acted nor well directed--sometimes I couldn't tell which time frame I was in thanks to the film's unhelpful editing. As for the script...the best description of it is that it is long. I didn't care about anybody in the movie and felt that politically it was preaching to the already converted. Between its opening and when I saw it recently, I doubt I have had one conscious thought about it. I am certain it will slip quickly back into the ether again.

 

[Jevo]

The Good Shepherd (2006) dir. Robert De Niro

After helping collect evidence on his German sympathising thesis instructor during the 1930s, Edward Wilson (Matt Damon) gets recruited into the American intelligence services and works there during the war. After the war he's one of the people involved in building up the CIA. The movie follows Wilson and the CIA until 1961, where he investigates what caused the failed Bay of Pigs invasion in Cuba.

I feel like The Good Shepherd tries to do a lot things with its story. Perhaps too many things. I'm not intimately familiar with the history of the CIA. But it feels like there's a lot of events which the movie feels it needs to hit, but it also feels like many of them aren't dealt with in depth. It feels like these are all the 'greatest hits' that people will expect the movie to touch on, so it touches on them, but not much more than that. I actually think the subject matter is really interesting, and the movie is best when it focuses on the CIA stuff, but I don't think it ever becomes as interesting as I wish I'd had been. The movie is already long, so there probably isn't time to do more. But perhaps a more concentrated use of the runtime could have yielded something where you can deal with some things more in depth. The movie also spends a lot of time on Edward's social life. And while there's value in learning something about him as a person this way, it's rarely particularly interesting, and it often felt like the movie grinded to a halt when it started to focus on his social life. It's a long movie, and it feels like it as well, and this is one place I really think some fat could have been trimmed. But of course maybe that means we don't get to see Edward kill his son's fiancé. Which is a strong image, but I'm still not sure how I feel about that sub-plot.

Matt Damon does a really good job here. I think he often elevates the movie above what the script gives him to work with. He unlocks a lot of the inner workings of Edward that isn't otherwise apparent.

The Good Shepherd is a weird mix of spy thriller and biographical drama of somewhat fictional people, a mix that never gets really satisfying. But I enjoyed the movie, and it kept me interested for most of the way through, even though it has flaws and there's things I wish would have been done differently.

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

The Good Shepherd is a movie that tackles its subject matter--the formation of the CIA from the pre-WWII era up to the disastrous Bay of Pigs invasion of Cuba--in a way that unfortunately sets it up for its own failure. Overlaying a somewhat-fictional story on a very real historical event will only invite questions of historical accuracy, a no-win situation for any movie that relies on composite characters and selective depiction of events rather than telling it straight. People are bound to complain that key details are missing or exaggerated, that this isn't the way events really happened, etc. A fictional but still plausible and believable story--such as The Tailor of Panama, made a few years earlier--would be more satisfying because it sidesteps the truth test. And the ultimate question The Good Shepherd raises--did the CIA leak that tipped off the invasion have any real effect in the long run--seems to be ignored, as if it were beside the point. Not that I'm quite sure what the point was in the first place.

The Good Shepherd has a large cast of characters but without a program it can be hard keeping track of who's who, and I think the real problem is we see almost no emotional bonding between these characters. The men relate to each other basically as co-workers, their relationships defined by their place in the organization chart. We did not have this problem with The Godfather, also a movie about trust and loyalty among men within a secret heirachical organization, because a sense of family extended beyond the Don and his sons to the various capos and footsoldiers as well. That's one thing The Good Shepherd sorely lacks; a bizarre frat-boy ritual doesn't really cut it and besides, once the Bonesmen have passed their initiation and return to the outside world, they have to pretend that it never really happened because, you know, it's a secret. Of course, "emotional bonding" is also a challenge for our main character Edward Wilson, his relationships--with father, wife and son--are all uneasy. That's his problem though, it doesn't have to be the movie's problem as well.

This celebration of secrecy all seemed pointless to me. An anonymous package with photos and audiotape of unidentified persons in compromising positions may make for a good mystery--and this was probably my favourite part of the movie--but I kept asking why? If someone wanted to expose/pressure/intimidate another with damaging information, wouldn't they want that person to know that they knew this info and leave no doubt about its details? What is gained by presenting it as a puzzle to be solved first? The answer is at the bottom of the rabbit hole, and maybe this is the intention of The Good Shepherd--to show the absurdity of the intelligence game, because "intelligence" necessitates counter-intelligence, which leads to counter-counter-intelligence, which leads to counter-counter-counter--ah, you get it. The Good Shepherd may be a masterpiece of pointlessness, half-baked and confused. (Though that may describe me while watching it.)

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Funny enough, The Tailor of Panama was the other pick in my mind, also as an underrated (in my mind) and underseen spy flick from the last few decades. Maybe I should have gone with that one.

 

[kihei]

Funny enough, The Tailor of Panama was the other pick in my mind, also as an underrated (in my mind) and underseen spy flick from the last few decades. Maybe I should have gone with that one.

As long as it gives us something to write about, there is no such thing as a bad pick.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

As long as it gives us something to write about, there is no such thing as a bad pick.

No regrets here. Interesting experiment for me this time. As I mentioned, I've held this movie in a certain place in my mind for a while (though I also haven't seen it in a bit) and it's one I've hardly ever been able to discuss with people because frankly, no one has seen it. I enjoy the insights.

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

No regrets here either. Mrs Spoilsport LOVES Matt Damon! Didn't have to twist her arm to agree to watch this one.

I swear, after Son of Saul it must have been 3-4 months before she let me pick another movie.

 

[Jevo]

Dragonfly Eyes (2017) dir. Xu Bing

Everyday each of us are captured 200 times on surveillance camera. One of these people captured is Qing Ting, a young woman who decides to leave Buddhist monastery instead of becoming a nun. She gets work on an industrial dairy farm. A technician on the farm falls in love with her, and in an attempt to get her love he breaks the law and ends up in prison. Once out of prison he starts searching for her again.

The plot of Dragonfly Eyes isn't exactly riveting. The interesting thing about this film is the way it is told. Using either leaked surveillance footage, or footage from unsecured surveillance cameras with public access to the feed. It's a fun idea, and with the prologue about how each and everyone is captured on camera 200 times a day, it gives some Big Brother vibes. Unfortunately I don't think the story really picks up on that thread. The story is too regular. Hyper surveillance of public space is never brought inside the story. It's only used as a framing device for the story, and I really would have liked to see it challenge more in the story, since the prologue of the film seemed to make a big deal of it. The only time the movie gets close is the segment of the story revolving around the streamer Xiao Xiao. There's some really interesting things in that part of the movie about how internet fame can be very fleeting in this day and age, and how the smallest misstep can send you plummeting, and people who once adored you are now sending you the nastiest of messages. There's also a good point about how when you are streaming and putting yourself into the picture, you are in some way putting public surveillance on yourself. Surveillance doesn't just have to be something others are doing to you, but it can also be something you are doing to yourself.

Dragonfly Eyes is in some way an exercise in editing. It's spliced together from a bunch of different sources, and it has in no way been easy to form a coherent story from all of this. Of course it helps that all dialogue is dubbed in post. But none the less it can't have been easy. But the movie also lacks a little bit in this department, as certain clips are reused multiple times through out the film, and it breaks immersion when the same clip is used at different parts of the story. And it shows there has to have been some kind of lack of money, time or perhaps skill. I think the idea behind Dragonfly Eyes is really good. The first few minutes of the movie is a fantastic pitch. You'd be stupid not to buy that pitch. But sadly the execution is not as good as the idea behind the film. Maybe it is a lot harder than it sounds to make a coherent story out of random surveillance footage.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Dragonfly Eyes
Bing (2017)
“If you fake reality, then reality is fake.”

We’ll get to the plot momentarily, but the execution needs to come first. Director Bing spent years combing through actual surveillance video, thousands of them, much of it random and banal, that he then assembled into something resembling a narrative story. In a world where “found footage” is a common crutch for film, this proves to be the ultimate found footage movie.

A body goes into a river — murder or suicide? We meet Qing Ting as she is leaving her life at a Buddhist Temple. She goes to work at a dairy farm facility where she meets Ke Fan who falls for her. After an incident at that job, she moves on to a dry cleaner where a bad confrontation with a high powered customer. Ke, foolheartely, comes to her defense. There’s an exchange of violent outbursts (depicted in real road rage incidents). This gets him sent to prison. Time jumps. When he gets out he tries to track down Qing. His search leads him to an internet celebrity, whom he convinces himself is actually Qing post plastic surgery. With an ill conceived online comment about another star, she’s quickly demonized by the online community (kids would probably call it “cancelled” these days). Ke comes to her rescue, sorta. Does he kill her or help her die? Does he assume her identity? I won’t lie. I missed a key scene toward the end and when I went to revisit, I had trouble pulling the movie back up. So I either missed the answer I was looking for or it really is ambiguous. That’s kinda wild if it is the case.

Again, this is all assembled from random surveillance footage. There is no Qing or Ke. It’s just random people, often viewed at a distance where we can’t fully make out who they are. The recorded dialogue serves as our guide. It’s quite the magic trick on Bing’s part and it’s mostly effective. The only time I felt truly pulled out of the movie’s momentum was during the road rage attack where the dialogue clearly felt acted out in the studio and not an actual attempt to replicate the action being depicted on screen. It’s all a sort of crazy filmic improv. She works in a store ... YES AND ... she gets in an argument ... YES AND ... her boyfriend defends her honor ... YES AND ... The story is ultimately a little trite. The comments on surveillance and internet culture aren’t the most subtle, but the manner of message somewhat outweighs the message here.

There are highpoints. A driving sequence that’s punctuated with nightmare like interruptions and visions probably makes David Lynch envious. Knowing that the action seen is real makes the particularly violent images all the more jarring. Plastic surgery is a clever explanation to bridge the sections of film. It’s an interesting commentary on filmmaking itself. The fact that it pairs exteriors with interiors that aren’t congruous is no different from fictional film. More pronounced here. Shows the illusion.

I felt an odd connection to Burning, probably my favorite film of last year. Both stories have a sorta milquetoast guy as their center. They’re obsessed with a young woman who doesn’t fully reciprocate. There’s a disappearance and causes an undeniable and irreversible shift in the protagonist.

 

[kihei]

Dragonfly Eyes (2017) Directed by Xu Bing

I have a bee in my bonnet that I want to address, so if you are looking for a review, try both of the excellent reviews above me (which, for once, I read before writing this). Despite the fact that when I pieced together the story in Dragonfly Eyes it seemed bordering on banality, I was still mightily impressed with the movie and with the patience of the director to put all this random footage together. That he could come up with any story at all and make it work boggled my mind. And there are a lot of issues to address both in terms of Dragonfly Eyes' (perfect title) style and in terms of what surveillance at the level we are now experiencing says about out society (look what's happened since 9/11 and tell me that Bin Laden wouldn't have been overjoyed about it in so many different ways). But I have my needle stuck on one particular issue. I will remember the film for its originality and brilliance. But the images that stand out in my mind are images of people dying. There are three examples that I can't get out of my head. The first is with someone walking distractedly at night who falls into a canal and drowns; the second concerns a lorry driver who is sucked out of his cab surely to his death; and the third is an airliner crash near a motorway. I know I have seen people die in numerous documentaries, not to mention on the evening news, and I am sure there are tons of sites on YouTube where death is a fixation. But my reflexes aren't set up to see actual death in ostensibly a work of fiction. I don't know why this bothers me as much as it does because I am not the squeamish type. But there is something about the images themselves, which in two of the cases have a kind of perverse captivation (the drowning and the plane crash) that just drilled a hole into my skull. Is there an ethical question here, a moral question? I don't even know the answer to that. Have we become so blase about death visited upon others that we can now integrate these images into popular entertainment without a thought to their appropriateness? Is empathy even an issue? Should it be? I don't know any of the answers to these questions. Like I said earlier, I don't even know why it bothers me so much. But it feels to me that we have all tacitly agreed on some very complex social issues that we never really got to discuss in the first place--we just sort of evolved as a society in these directions without either thinking much about it or feeling we have the power to actively chose such a path or not. I am not saying that we should be ashamed of ourselves or chastise the filmmaker. I'm just saying that we have crossed a whole lot of lines without most of us being consciously aware that we have crossed them, without thinking about them or recognizing their consequences and implications, much less given our consent. Some of the lines are social, some political, some call into question our ability to empathize with others. They seem pretty important to me.

About two years or so ago I read an article, I think in the Washington Post, about a woman who, appalled by Donald Trump's election, decided to write down every time he did something that she considered not normal. She had pages of examples, and it was in this way that she kept the torch for how a nation should be governed. She must have a thousand page book by now, but that's not the point I want to make. To me she represents a really decent human being who recognized how things can change when we don't insist on vigilance or when change creeps in so slowly we don't notice how we got here. Yes, things have certainly changed, but to her they are not changes to be embraced but to be resisted--people are not supposed to behave the way Trump and his colleagues behave. It seems to me that hers is a singular and lonely vigil. She is trying to hold on to the reasonable when engulfed in the hideous, the indecent, and the detestable. Her efforts are an attempt to protect our ideals, our collective responsibility to one another. Why? Because she realizes that if we are not careful something important and very human can be lost without us realizing it. If picturesque random death, actual death, is now a part of what we accept as entertainment, does that represent the new normal? Are we comfortable with that? And, if so, why? How did we get comfortable with that? I have the feeling the director might welcome such a discussion about these things, but that's irrelevant.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

But my reflexes aren't set up to see actual death in ostensibly a work of fiction. I don't know why this bothers me as much as it does because I am not the squeamish type. But there is something about the images themselves, which in two of the cases have a kind of perverse poetry (the drowning and the plane crash), that just drilled a hole into my skull. Is there an ethical question here, a moral question? I don't even know the answer to that. Have we become so blase about death visited upon others that we can now integrate these images into popular entertainment without a thought to their appropriateness? Is empathy even an issue? Should it be?

Fascinating thought/insight and I wonder if (and if so how much) that factored into the director's thinking?

I certainly don't have answers. I know some of the images impacted me — the airplane, the collapsing building. But others didn't. The body into the canal, for instance. I KNOW it's real, but in a very odd way I hadn't really thought about it being real, at least in the same way as other images in the film, until you raised this issue here. So even within the same movie, my mind and reaction were split different ways on ostensibly the exact same thing.

I feel like empathy should be an issue. And yet, that's not really how I processed much of it myself.

 

[kihei]

Violenza Domesstica and Amerika: could you confirm your next picks? VD. your pick is up next.

 

[Spring in Fialta]

Violenza Domesstica and Amerika: could you confirm your next picks? VD. your pick is up next.

I had already picked Tetro. And I'm going to watch The Good Shepard tonight so I'll be doing double feature this week.

 

[Pranzo Oltranzista]

Violenza Domesstica and Amerika: could you confirm your next picks? VD. your pick is up next.

I don't feel I deserve to pick a movie because my participation is non-existent, but I'd all invite you to have a go at one of my favorite films of all-time (top-3 for sure): L'hypothèse du tableau volé. There's a decent enough version on YouTube.

 

[kihei]

Thanks, guys.

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

Dragonfly Eyes was probably the highlight for me at TIFF 2017, exactly what I like to see at least once during a film festival--something new and innovative, unlike anything I've seen before. First time director Xu Bing--best known for art installations featuring his printmaking and calligraphy--delivered, and I left the theatre thinking I'd seen a glimpse of the future of cinema, or at least, one possible future. But I was anxious to see it again, not only to see if it held up even when the novelty factor is taken away, but also to catch up on some plot details that I missed: you see, just before the movie started, a tall dude took the vacant seat just in front of me, obstructing my view of the subtitles. I think I got the gist of the story though: a young woman (Qing Ting) raised in a Buddhist temple leaves to experience the outside world. She meets a boyfriend (Ke Fan) while working at an automated dairy farm; they bond over a plan to help a cow with soulful eyes escape, but it costs them their jobs. They find new jobs in the big city, but a road rage incident puts Ke Fan in jail. Qing Ting reinvents herself with plastic surgery to become Xioa Xioa, an internet pop star (an upbringing in a Buddhist temple prepared her for this?) Eventually Ke Fan is released and must track down Qing Ting, unaware of her new identity. The ending was a little bit fuzzy for me, but Qing Ting eventually returns to the temple.

I've watched Dragonfly Eyes again and…oh…now I get it…it was actually Ke Fan who comes to the temple, transformed into Qing Ting. Again with the plastic surgery?! I admit, the last twenty minutes is a little hard to swallow, it's beyond the realm of plausibility. Maybe the director is asking us to take a leap of faith and believe in a poetry which he knows we know was not meant to be in the images to begin with. Or maybe it's just a lousy end to what could have been a great movie. Would it not be better to end around 60 minutes, with the rumours of Xioa Xiao drowning? Isn't that how it begins, with a woman walking along a pier so glued to her cellphone she inadvertently falls in?

Even if Dragonfly Eyes isn't a great movie, it's still a great experiment. By now we all know the gimmick: Xu Bing is a man without a movie camera, assembling his film from footage from surveillance cameras, dash-cams, webcams etc. As with any experiment there are learnings to be taken. The lack of close-ups is a challenge. The sound mixing needs work. Most of all, the romance is missing from Qing Ting and Ke Fan's relationship: one date at a coffee shop and they're soulmates? I don't think we see them kiss even once...and their MUST be some suitable footage available! Maybe there are censorship issues here. On the plus side, Dragonfly Eyes is surprisingly good at establishing locations and the casting of Ke Fan as the guy with the thick-framed glasses was a clever idea--he's like a Chinese "Where's Waldo" only it's easy to pick him out in a small room because of his distinctive eyewear. And then there are the "gasp" moments--the story is punctuated by interludes of scenes of the calamaties that seem to be around very corner...devastation, destruction, sudden death. These montages of mayhem are usually silent, with the occasional zen-like tone of a bell being struck. It really brings home with a sad poigancy the sense that our existence is a bubble waiting to burst. This is beyond gimmickry: shit doesn't get realer than this.

In a way, Dragonfly Eyes is a distant cousin of Morel's Invention. The machine is already out there recording us as we go about our daily lives. All we need now is a creator who can pluck our images out of the cloud server and immortalize us as fictional characters. Xu Bing took advantage of a unique situation in China but it's possible something similar may happen eventually in the West and a whole new genre may rise. You never know...Dragonfly Eyes may be a Voyage Dans La Lune for the 21st century.

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

It seems to me that hers is a singular and lonely vigil. She is trying to hold on to the reasonable when engulfed in the hideous, the indecent, and the detestable. Her efforts are an attempt to protect our ideals, our collective responsibility to one another. Why? Because she realizes that if we are not careful something important and very human can be lost without us realizing it. If picturesque random death, actual death, is now a part of what we accept as entertainment, does that represent the new normal? Are we comfortable with that? And, if so, why? How did we get comfortable with that? I have the feeling the director might welcome such a discussion about these things, but that's irrelevant.

It's too bad Xu wasn't at the screening for a Q&A; that would be a good discussion which surely would have come up. I wish I had a response. I found these moments profoundly moving, maybe because they bring back something that has been lost as a result of our desensitization to violence through mass media.

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

I'll get into the Hallowe'en spirit and go with Ken Russell's The Devils as my next pick.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

I'll get into the Hallowe'en spirit and go with Ken Russell's The Devils as my next pick.

Oh my.

 

[Spring in Fialta]

So sorry for the tardiness. Big life event coming up this weekend, I've been caught up. It's been quite the year so far.

The Good Shepherd (2006) - I appreciate the scope of the script, but I thought that the execution was completely banal. For a movie that's almost three hours, the characters were paper-thin and their motivations never particularly interesting. It's almost like DeNiro and Eric Roth, the screenwriter, were in way overhead with their pre-conceived ambition. The poor dialogue doesn't help - especially when the actors seem to fully buy into it and play it off like the words are smarter than they actually are. A lot of them are painfully miscast, particularly Jolie, who simply can't sell it and hams it up, as well as Eddie Redmayne, who's just all-around terrible at all times. Matt Damon was good, though. I thought he sold his character well. I also thought the mood and classic aesthetic were fairly pleasing. Still, it's not a movie I'm likely to remember. Very meandering and never enthralling or insightful. A conventional spy movie that falls flat.