Lemonade

Lemonade

Beyonce (2016)

       For much of my culturally and intellectually conscious life (the exact beginning of which is unknown - possibly 12 or so years of age, possibly I've just made up the term) I've had a typical and markedly pronounced (even to the point of snobbery (ok, ok - well past the point of snobbery)) disdain and contempt for popular entertainment - especially music. The likes of Beyonce, Kanye West, and other such popular artists were met from me by, at first, a kind of scoffing and rather outwardly aggressive trashing, and then, later, a smug and snide feeling usually accompanied by a condescending and pitiful look at those who listened to, as I perceived it to be, such mainstream and bland radio fodder. I'm still very much like this, and, to be honest, feel a lot of it is justified, but over the last couple of months or so I've had a kind of revelation when it comes to popular music, as well as art in general. This first happened for me when I put in Frank Ocean's 2016 album Blonde - on a kind of anti-recommendation from my fourteen year old sister - and was struck by the emotional impact it had on me. Like I said, it was revelatory, and helped start me on the path away from cultural elitism that I'm currently exploring. What I learned from Frank opened the door for me to give other contemporary popular artists a shot, such as Chance the Rapper and the aforementioned Mr. West, which in turn lead me to an introduction to Hip-Hop, and specifically to whom I believe is the most essential musical artist of the current decade: Kendrick Lamar.

      My most recent personal discovery on the road away from one-dimensional pretensions about "good" and "bad" art and how that correlates to popular and, I don't know, "unpopular?" (or, more accurately, older) art is the ever hyped and lauded (largely by tween girls) Beyonce Knowles. Having had my world expanded by the actual startling quality of some popular music, I did go into this expecting something pretty good, what with it being called the greatest album of 2016 and all that. I did still have my reservations though. I had gotten used to the idea of these game-changing and progressive artists dropping concept albums and sophisticated pieces of pop art, but knowing the adoration that my generations young women and girls have for Beyonce, I couldn't help but slip into old patterns of prejudgment.

       For these album reviews I've decided to give the record a good three listens before writing a full review. I've listened to Lemonade more than that, and not because I feel I'm missing something, but because I just really enjoy it. This is both a conceptual statement and highly listenable and re-listenable collection of stone solid pop songs.

       "Pray You Catch Me" starts off the album in a lowdown and serene way, but not without charge, and not without effect. Beyonce sings about listening at the door, praying to catch him whispering, and to be caught listening herself. This sets up one of the albums main themes: infidelity (supposedly (well, pretty obviously) her husband's in particular). With swelling and reverberating background vocals the sonic palette of the album (although it later proves to be a dynamic one) is established as well - this is to be an aesthetically full and deeply personal and revealing listen. There is no weak pop gloss or uninspired commonality that pervades on the radio fodder I've associated in the past with the artist and her ilk (meaning essentially all modern pop artists). The song ends after the music stops, with Beyonce saying "What are you doing my love" in a pointed, intimate way that can't help but feel directional and confrontational.

       This segues into one of my favorite tracks here, "Hold Up," which lifts the beautifully worded "they don't love you like I love you" refrain from the Yeah Yeah Yeah's song "Maps." It's not a sample mind you: it's the same line with a different tune and different emotion behind it; and it doesn't feel like a cheap steal either, it feels original, partly due to the fresh accented delivery, partly to Beyonce just being charismatic enough to make it feel like she came up with it herself. Speaking of accented, Beyonce breaks out the Jamaican accent during her variations on the line, and makes it work too, adding a command and emotion that it probably didn't need but certainly improves it. The line's major difference between her version and the Yeah Yeah Yeah's is the confidence. That band was making a plea, Beyonce is making an intimation of status and value, almost a warning.

       The Jamaican vibes transfer from Beyonce's voice into the instrumentation on the next track, "Don't Hurt Yourself" (at least I think it's Jamaican, I'm kinda faking this whole musical knowledge thing). Also the artist comes fully out of her (somewhat) reserved stance and breaks into blatant righteous anger, the superior put-down zone only a true diva can enter and hold. That intimation of a warning mentioned becomes much more forward here, ending the song on "This is your final warning/You know I give you life/If you try this shit again/You gon' lose your wife." Also, while it looks silly on paper, the line "Motivate your ass/Call me Malcolm X" might actually be my favorite moment on the album, thanks to Beyonce's swagger. "Sorry" continues the unapologetic (more literally this time) "fuck-you" dismissal from the last track. Beyonce sounds more unconcerned about the situation here on a surface level, but the "Middle fingers up/Put them hands high" shows the common affectation of that attitude that reveals itself more as a denial of inner pain than true indifference, coming to fruition when the song breaks from it's established feel to detour into a slower, more poignant verse about leaving a note that he won't read until she's far away (a moment that's also a highlight of the album).

       "6 Inch" is next on the tracklist, likely the worst track on the album (although I guess it's not bad per say, just kind of middling and unnecessary). It's a mostly generic song about independence and empowerment, out shined by later tracks that do it much better. Still got a great moment or two though - looking at the melody on the "too smart to crave material things" bit. The main purpose of the track I think is to act a palette cleanser going into the much meatier and single-worthy "Daddy Lessons," which is a much better song. Here Beyonce sings about her father and the lessons he passed onto her (bet you couldn't of guessed that). It's a song that needs more unpacking, giving up complex feelings about the opposite masculinity in her life - recognizing the flaws in her father and, in relation, her husband, as well as admiration and love for this flawed man who warns her of men like himself. It's an upbeat New Orleans brass (I may have made that up) inflected and country tinged rouser, improving on the ideas on "6 Inch" by presenting them in a very different way. it might be the most radio-friendly song on a radio-friendly album, drifting closer to standard - yet merited - pop than the other tracks, despite being a somewhat unique genre exploration for the artist.

      "Love Drought" is another track that feels light compared to some of the real great stuff this album has to offer, this time finding Beyonce in a more lamenting mood as she calms herself more to give something as close to, if not a plea, than an attempt at a sweet reconciliation and openly wanted explanation as can be found here. Highlight is the incredibly charismatic and honestly sexy way she says the offhand line "Wassup" near the end of the track. "Sandcastles" keeps the slower pace from the last track, as well as the emotional vulnerability, only this time capitalizing on it and yet stepping back to give a more resigned, maybe even mournful (or a lighter synonym) or blue reminiscence on the subject. The gorgeous piano accompaniment bleeds perfectly into the next track, the slight "Forward," which is more of a coda to "Sandcastles" or transitional piece than anything.

      Then the album really explodes, swelling into the climax that is "Freedom." Driving organ and a particularly rousing performance from both Beyonce and featured artist Kendrick Lamar propel the record into the arena of badass empowerment that it was heading towards. Beyonce is at peak confidence and power on this track, possibly the stand-out on the whole thing. The ending spoken coda (spoken by who? I'm not sure) feels earned as the speaker states the namesake of the album, that old aphorism about turning lemons into lemonade. Unfortunately this is followed up by the misplaced "All Night," which I feel the album might have benefitted from either moving somewhere else on the tracklist or cutting altogether. Luckily the closer "Formation" makes up for misstep, ending the album on a high note and a fitting one too, where Beyonce truly forms fully into the victorious queen B. that she was destined to reach, that she worked for. 

1001+ Books: At the Mountains of Madness

1001+ Books:

#9 - At the Mountains of Madness

by: H.P. Lovecraft (1936)

       At the Mountains of Madness applies the scientific mind to the awe-inspiring colossus of everything unknown to science, and is left with a reaction of horror and fascination seen primarily when the young or the stupid enter the den of a sleeping lion after it's been fed a gazelle. There are many times when the antarctic expedition who have stumbled upon the remnants of long dead, highly intelligent civilization predating humanity by millions of years are touched by the urge to turn and run without looking back. A creeping sense of dread and foreboding permeates the text, building gradually and so effectively that the climax is inevitably anti-climactic. This disappointment at the end of the book may have something also to do with the way Lovecraft writes. These nuggets of terror and revelation are sprinkled a little too sparsely over a plethora of long-winded scientific analysis and mythology, which is interesting in it's own way, but is not balanced as well as it could have been. The influence of this work is undoubtably established though, seeing shadows in everything from John Carpenter's The Thing to the criminally underrated Alien prequel (kind of) Prometheus.

   Rating: B-

1001+ Books: The Great Gatsby

1001+ Books:

#8 - The Great Gatsby

by: F. Scott Fitzgerald (1925)

       I am not a great reader. I mean, I can read well, and write well, but I am not what you would call "well read." Not yet anyway, but I'm working on it. Because of this, I tend to draw comparisons not between books and other books, but between books and another medium I am much more well versed in: film. So it is not surprising to me that what I see in The Great Gatsby compares much more to movies I've seen than other books I've read. And what comes to mind immediately for me while reading this particular novel is Italian cinema of the '50s and '60s, specifically, and surprisingly, the films of the great Italian master Michelangelo Antonioni (although you could easily make comparisons with the more surface level similarities between Fitzgerald's work and the extravagant flash of Federico Fellini's pictures). The commonality I see between Gatsby and, say, L'Avventura or La Notte by that previously mentioned auteur, lies not in form or style, but in their respective essences. The major difference is that what Antonioni goes for deliberately seems almost to be accidental in Fitzgerald's case. Antonioni's films are openly about vapidity and a loss of self. Fitzgerald's book is too, only in what appears to be a more unintentional, and possibly even more bleak sort of way.

       The story is simple, and well known, so I'm not going to bother going through it, just Google it. What the novel is "about" is such familiar themes as wealth, the past, and the ever present "American Dream." The story takes a look at the unattainability of previously mentioned dream as well as the impossibility of the fulfillment of expectation. It casts a judgmental eye on the decadent and immoral antics of the rich, but notably not enough not to participate in them. We discover by the book's end that everyone (but Gatsby and Nick, the novel's self-described "non-judgmental" narrator) is an unfeeling leech, only present to take what they can from the titular character and leave without any ties. I read Fitzgerald writing Gatsby as a pure, lovelorn, lost soul who believes in goodness and the powers of connection and love. I myself read Gatsby as an emotionally malformed, incredibly self-centered and naive victim of circumstance. Like how I suspect Fitzgerald was, he is a man obsessed with the malleable meaninglessness of symbols and dreams, hanging onto things he thinks will fill the holes he can't fill himself. This is true of most of the characters (the "holes" part), but Gatsby is a romantic, which turns his malaise from a character flaw into a kind of chronic and damning disease. He's too sensitive for his life, his times, and his peers. This would make Gatsby a more sympathetic character, but through Nick's eyes he is kept at arms length, a myth or an idea instead of a man.

       Now it is no rule that great art (at least "narrative" art, if that's the right term) has to feature likable characters (I cite There Will Be Blood). And while I wouldn't say that the book is devoid of likable or relatable characters per say, it also doesn't feature anyone you can "root for," for lack of a better term. Nothing seems genuine, and by the end of the book everyone comes off in varying degrees of insincerity and indifference. Even Nick, who tells us of his anger, who tells us about his awe and reverence for Gatsby, about his thoughts and feelings on everything that happens, gives me the impression of doing so out of respectability more than anything. He just couldn't convince me he cared all that much. In a sad kind of way it's almost as if he's telling this story to reap some sort of material or moral benefits, like he's writing to be published, not to be heard.

       To make another, more personal cinematic comparison, this seems to be, for me, the Casablanca of popular literature, in that both this book and that highly revered movie leave me wondering, albeit less with Fitzgerald's work, what all the fuss is about. I mean, it's good, you know, very pretty and whatnot, but it's certainly not the greatest book ever written. In fact, there doesn't seem to be that much special about it (the beautiful prose aside). Maybe expectations have played too great a role in my appreciation of this book. Anything is bound to disappoint when it has labels like "the (arguably definitive) Great American Novel" slapped on it. I think I just find it all a little too "easy," if that makes sense. I wasn't challenged to think much (not that that is some kind of watermark for quality), but more importantly I wasn't made to feel much. What gives this novel credit is the strength of the craft, the mastery and versatility of language Fitzgerald brings to the table. Language is clearly his greatest strength, but it's not enough. It's a charming read, but I can't get past that hollow feeling, that affectation of meaning that Fitzgerald can't actually match in practice.

   Rating: C+

Week in Film: 10/31/16-11/6/16

Week in Film: 10/31/16-11/6/16

Film of the Week: La Notte
   Year: 1961
   Director: Michelangelo Antonioni

       L’Avventura may be more well known, but I honestly think this is the better film. Actually, by quite a bit too, although I need to see the other again. That feeling of emptiness is so much more expanded on in this from the previous in Antonioni’s loose trilogy. Not only the best of this director, but one of the best things I’ve seen this year.

   Rating: A

The Rest:

The Silence of the Lambs

   Year: 1991

   Director: Jonathan Demme

       Essentially flawless. This doesn't make it an all time great for me (although it is a great film), but it does make it in that rare breed that sometimes mingles, sometimes doesn't with those select few in my own list. There are many all time great films that aren't perfect (something like "Lawrence of Arabia"), as well as "perfect" or near enough movies that aren't in my top 50 or so (like this). There is not a performance, shot or moment out of place. Nothing to fault.

   Rating: A-

Kwaidan
   Year: 1964
   Director: Masaki Kobayashi

       I think of a Japanese Mario Bava. A closer relative would be “House,” although this is nowhere near as wacky is that film. It has an artificiality that I like, a way with it’s images that gives it an unreality but not fakeness, which is my main problem with the (admittedly little) Bava I’ve seen. Haunting at it’s best.

   Rating: B

Black Girl

   Year: 1966

   Director: Ousmane Sembene

       Those moments of glory, moments of beauty, moments of transcendence. I’ve called it pure cinema before. Moments of clarity, of honesty, of truth. I’ve had a difficult time deciding how to grade this, teetering between B+ and A-. It has a couple of those perfect moments. Is it enough? There are things that don’t quite work, but when it does work, it becomes profound.

   Rating: B+

Ride in the Whirlwind
   Year: 1966
   Director: Monte Hellman

       Pretty weak stuff. Something just felt… off. Not like unsettling or anything purposeful, but just kind of incompetent. Something in the dialogue, something in the cutting is just awkward.

   Rating: C

Antoine and Colette
   Year: 1962
   Director: Francois Truffaut

       Nice to see Antoine as he matures. It’s no “400 Blows” though, not that it was trying.

   Rating: B-

Lola
   Year: 1981
   Director: Rainer Werner Fassbinder

       Lesser Fassbinder, and the weakest link in the BRD trilogy.

   Rating: B-

Veronika Voss
   Year: 1982
   Director: Rainer Werner Fassbinder

       And now the best of the BRD trilogy, and one of Fassbinder’s best period (from what I’ve seen). Captures that 50s melodrama feel, but also a Hollywood just a little before that era as well.

   Rating: B+

Tristana
   Year: 1970
   Director: Luis Bunuel

       Little touches of Bunuel’s signature surrealism work perfectly for this tale of corruption and moral erosion. Not his best work, but pretty good nonetheless.

   Rating: B

Alice
   Year: 1988
   Director: Jan Svankmajer

       Incredibly disturbing. Not for kids, unless you’re looking to traumatize someone.

   Rating: B

Mr. Arkadin
   Year: 1955
   Director: Orson Welles

       There are only so many times you can tilt a camera before it gets gimmicky. This is Welles usually wonderful style overripe and unfocused. Kind of annoying, really.

   Rating: C

Suzanne's Career
   Year: 1963
   Director: Eric Rohmer

       Just as inconsequential as “Bakery Girl of Monceau.”

   Rating: C-

The Lost Honor of Katharina Blum
   Year: 1975
   Director: Volker Schlondorff, Margarethe von Trotta

       Relevant today as I’m sure it was then.

   Rating: B

Ikiru
   Year: 1952
   Director: Akira Kurosawa

       Reminded me of “It’s a Wonderful Life” for some reason. Maybe it’s the snow, and the redemption. Takashi Shimura is excellent. This is not Kurosawa’s best film, but certainly some of his best work at moments.

   Rating: B+

Ordet
   Year: 1955
   Director: Carl Th. Dreyer

       Knowing it as being often considered one of the greatest films ever made, I was expecting more. No, that’s not quite right. It was what I expected, I suppose, but I expected to have a different reaction. Maybe it’s because I’m not religious, but I found myself unaffected, indifferent. I must admit there were surely moments of brilliance, it is a very good film, but not enough for me to put it in my personal canon.

   Rating: B

Medium Cool
   Year: 1968
   Director: Haskell Wexler

       Kind of a mish mash of things that work and things that don’t so much. Cool 60s score though.

   Rating: B-

High and Low
   Year: 1963
   Director: Akira Kurosawa

       Very few directors had their craft so perfected like Kurosawa’s is. This guy really knew what he was doing with a camera, and it shows from the first moments to the last. Mifune is great as always, showing more range than he seems to be given credit for.

   Rating: B+

Killer's Kiss
   Year: 1955
   Director: Stanley Kubrick

       Even at such an early age, with his first “real” movie (he disowned “Fear and Desire,” and for good reason honestly), Kubrick proves he really knows how to shoot something. Having a background as a photographer payed off pretty well for him.

   Rating: B

Week in Film: Catching Up (Again)

Week in Film: Catching Up (Again)

Stromboli

   Year: 1950

   Director: Roberto Rossellini

       My initial impression was a drift away from the neorealism style that Rossellini had come out of, but with a couple months retrospective, the things that stand out to me the most are the things more tied to that style than not. I think of the only truly great scene in the film, the one with the fishing. That is the most obvious example, but also there's a realness to the situation Ingrid Bergman's character finds herself in. Some of what I saw as more melodramatic at the time (the final scene, which apparently is genius, but didn't work for me at all) has become more about the style of performance and less about the content and vision of the picture as a whole.

       That doesn't make this a particularly good movie though. It seems to have become better than what my initial reaction indicated with time, but only slightly. I remember the better aspects, but that's the danger with getting behind on something like this. It becomes too distant and the freshness of your thoughts have become far overripe and have changed flavor. Maybe the perspective of time makes the past clearer, but something tells me if I were to watch this again my rating could drop at least a half grade.

   Rating: C

Europe '51
   Year: 1952
   Director: Roberto Rossellini

       This is the weakest of the Rossellini/Bergman criterion films. This one has left my memory considerably more so than "Stromboli," and for that I'm giving it a lower grade. No particular scene stands out in my memory, and I don't recall much that elevates it above merely okay. I do think Ingrid Bergman is a pretty good actress though, and by pretty good I mean better than serviceable, but nothing very impressive. She's not what I was expecting.

   Rating: C-

Journey to Italy
   Year: 1954
   Director: Roberto Rossellini

       Easily the best of the set. Reminded me a lot of Linklater's "Before" movies and Kiarostami's "Certified Copy." Surprisingly, this one may have faded the most out of the three, but the feeling of it has remained strongest over time. It feels less forced, more natural, more real than the others. And Ingrid Bergman gives her best performance here. Out of them I would see this one again before the others, both because it was good and because I can't remember exactly why.

   Rating: B

Joy Division
   Year: 2007
   Director: Grant Gee

       An informative documentary not just about the titular band but also the landscape of late 70s/early 80s England. It was engaging and interesting throughout, as a good documentary should be (or any film for that matter). Ian Curtis seems like he could have done so much more. It's a shame what happened.

   Rating: B-

Kurt Cobain: Montage of Heck
   Year: 2015
   Director: Brett Morgen

       Cool to see an artistic touch to this one what with the animations and such. It's probably the better film in my rock n roll suicide double feature (the other being "Joy Division," see above), but I didn't get as much out of it as I did the other. Another example of wasted potential.

   Rating: B-

The Filth and the Fury
   Year: 2000
   Director: Julien Temple

       The second time I've seen this. I'm not entirely sure why I decided to watch this again, this time with my dad, but something drew me to it. Maybe it was the string of music docs I was watching, or just wanting another kick of energy that it gave me the first time. It's still good, but seeing something like this so recently and watching it again isn't a great idea. It doesn't have the freshness that is often important in documentaries of this sort.

   Rating: B

Ministry of Fear
   Year: 1944
   Director: Fritz Lang

       A strong, claustrophobic, Kafka-esque beginning disappointingly devolves into something much more standard. M and Metropolis (both of which were slight disappointments themselves, but only because of their reputation as being great) are much better Lang pictures.

   Rating: C-

The Night of the Hunter
   Year: 1955
   Director: Charles Laughton

       I wish he directed more movies. This is a masterpiece, and the kind of fully realized, beautifully executed piece of work that is extremely rare in first time directors. It's a fairy tale in tone, not the Disney kind mind you, but the Grimm ones. It's images are ethereal and evoke the world of childhood, which is fitting for a film about childhood. So many brilliant moments. Robert Mitchum is the scariest.

   Rating: A

Bride of Frankenstein
   Year: 1935
   Director: James Whale

       I went into this expecting waves of nostalgia (as a little kid I was super into the Universal monster films), but was surprised to find I didn't really remember any of it. While "The Wolfman" and "Dracula" are deeply ingrained in my childhood, I guess this one just didn't stick. Odd, given that this is likely the best of those movies, at least from those I've revisited in the last few years.

   Rating: B

The Story of the Last Chrysanthemum
   Year: 1939
   Director: Kenji Mizoguchi

       There's a beautiful tracking shot from a low vantage point of two people walking along the edge of a river of some sort. I feel I should have waited for the Blu-ray release though, the streaming print was pretty bad.

   Rating: B

The Life of Oharu
   Year: 1952
   Director: Kenji Mizoguchi

       The buds of Mizoguchi’s early films blossom fully here. The compositions and camera work are great, as are the performances. Really, truly heartbreaking at times.

   Rating: B+

Ugetsu
   Year: 1953
   Director: Kenji Mizoguchi

       This is what Mizoguchi has been building to. So many breathtaking scenes and images: the boat in the fog, the father’s spirit humming in the dark, the welcome home. Absolutely beautiful.

   Rating: A

Island of Lost Souls
   Year: 1932
   Director: Erle C. Kenton

       The first part of the film, the one set on the boat with the creeping dread and the strangeness that exudes from the setting and the images is actually pretty awesome. And the jungle sets on the island help to perpetuate that feeling as the film goes on. But Bela Lugosi is a shit actor and it all just becomes too predictable. Charles Laughton is fun though.

   Rating: C-

Day of Wrath
   Year: 1943
   Director: Carl Th. Dreyer

       Dark beauty. The whole thing feels uneasy, in a good way. Nothing feels safe, everything sinful. So much dread, but seductive dread. The kind you're afraid might consume you. If you lived in times like those, at least.

   Rating: B+

The Haunted Strangler
   Year: 1958
   Director: Robert Day

       Probably the best movie of the criterion "Monsters and Madmen" films, but not my favorite. It's hard to judge it because of that.

   Rating: D+

The Atomic Submarine
   Year: 1959
   Director: Spencer Gorden Bennet

       This is where I find the most difficulty in reviewing films. This is by all accounts a bad movie. It's also the most fun I've had with a movie in a while. How do you rate something like that? Artistic value, or entertainment value? This is the eternal question that is grappled with when considering a film which you are reviewing. Usually I'd give this a D-, but considering how unintentionally hilarious it was, I just can't do that and keep a clear conscience.

   Rating: D

Weekend
   Year: 1967
   Director: Jean-Luc Godard

       Such mixed feelings about Godard, and especially with this film. I really like the experimentation, when it works, and the feel of his movies overall. But they can be very heavy handed and disjointed. Also I goddamn hate french car horns. Actually, that scene, the incredibly long tracking shot of a traffic jam, is a prime example. It would've been so cool if it weren't for all that infuriating honking. That's a metaphor.

   Rating: C

The Devil's Backbone
   Year: 2001
   Director: Guillermo del Toro

       It's odd when original material is executed in a fairly, dare I say it, conventional way. This is not a conventional movie, mind you. It has del Toro's mark all over it, and anything with that kind of auteurist stamp is bound to be fairly unique. But something about it is... not plain, but Hollywood maybe? I can't judge a movie for that though, that wouldn't be fair. Maybe it reminds me too much of Spielberg at times (one of the most overrated of filmmakers), or maybe I've just been watching too much Godard. It's good though, this film. That inescapable feeling of convention is probably just in my head. But I am ignoring what the film does that others don't: bringing brutal reality into the equation. I say conventional, maybe, yes, possibly, I don't know, but I'm sure I'm not saying contrived. I should write my own definitions for words, so people can understand what I mean. Or maybe I should just practice.

   Rating: B

First Man Into Space
   Year: 1959
   Director: Robert Day

       There were some moments, like the monster wandering the corridors, that were such pure perfect 50s sci-fi B-movie that I couldn’t help but feel an odd and surreal sense of wonder. It was moments like that, that created that specific feeling, where I think I understood the cult appreciation of these films, at least to some degree. But yeah, it's still terrible. Terrible, terrible movie.

   Rating: D-

Cronos
   Year: 1993
   Director: Guillermo del Toro

       Weak. The pacing seems off, and it has a couple of unfortunate moments that are hard to bounce back from. The concept is interesting, the execution lacking.

   Rating: C

Mala Noche
   Year: 1985
   Director: Gus Van Sant

       I think Gus Van Sant is an artist I can connect with on a basic level. I feel like I understand his films. I may not be gay or living on the streets, but there's something in the foundation of this and "My Own Private Idaho" that I identify with, for reasons I can't really explain. There's a sense of familiarity, an intimacy that is at once undefinable yet very close. This strange sensation of home, or being away from it.

   Rating: A-

Pan's Labyrinth
   Year: 2006
   Director: Guillermo del Toro

       The best, most artistic, most creative of the Guillermo del Toro films I've been watching of late, and probably my favorite too (but with time, I feel "Devil's Backbone" creeping back into my consciousness more frequently). What del Toro does so well is balance, and mix, the worlds of childhood and adulthood. This can be an incredibly violent film,  but it's also a fairy tale. Just one that's more honest.

   Rating: B

Ashes and Diamonds
   Year: 1958
   Director: Andrzej Wajda

       All kinds of strong finishes lately. This is the best of Wajda's trilogy, which is pretty impressive considering how strong "Kanal" was. Much of this has to do with the strength of the lead actor, who is pretty damn good. Some striking imagery, too.

   Rating: B+

Cat People
   Year: 1942
   Director: Jacques Tourneur

       An instance of reputation being larger than the film merits. It would have been better with a little more ambiguity, I think making the turn into definite supernatural elements was a mistake. It's still a good testament to the rule of the imagination being greater than anything that can be shown. At least for the most part, until it turns out to be just a big cat.

   Rating: C

Equinox
   Year: 1970
   Director: Jack Woods, Mark Thomas McGee, Dennis Muren

       Some cool special effects, but other than that not worth investing time in.

   Rating: D-

Germany Year Zero
   Year: 1948
   Director: Roberto Rossellini

       I wish I could remember "Rome, Open City" more so I could say this with more confidence, but I think this is the best of Rossellini's war trilogy. It's probably his best period (again, wish I could remember "Journey to Italy" more). At any rate, it's far better than the highly incompetent Paisan (another film I can barely recall). You know, I don't think Rossellini is a good match for me. The ending was a real shock though, and a great and powerful moment.

   Rating: B+

Corridors of Blood
   Year: 1958
   Director: Robert Day

       This isn't a horror movie, and I feel a little cheated because of that. If I'm going to watch things I know aren't going to be any good, they should at least have the decency to be the kind of not good I expect. It doesn't have the hilarious unintentional humor value of the sci-fi movies in the criterion "Monsters and Madmen" series, and also doesn't have whatever made "Corridor's of Blood" not a failure. But this isn't a failure really, just kind of a standard B movie of the era, which simply means it's not going to be good. I will say that Christopher Lee is the bomb though, and Boris Karloff is pretty good too.

   Rating: D

Redes
   Year: 1936
   Director: Emilio Gomez Muriel, Fred Zinnemann

       A small picture about standing up to the man and being a low income fisher and all that stuff. I liked the shots of the characters against the background of the sky, very Ford-esque. A decent but not particularly great introduction to Marin Scorsese's World Cinema Project.

   Rating: C

In Vanda's Room
   Year: 2000
   Director: Pedro Costa

       I had been avoiding this one for a while because of my negative reaction to "Ossos," but because of the impending departure of the criterion collection from Hulu, I've been trying to finish of various films and film series or trilogies or whatever else I suspect may not be available when the new home of the collection, Filmstruck, comes out. So I came to "In Vanda's Room" with a slight sense of dread, treating it more as something that I have to do more than something I want to do (which is not a good frame of mind when going into anything, and honestly a poor reason to watch anything to begin with). To my relief this is a much better, if not much easier, viewing experience.

       It seems to me that Costa's films are ones you're gonna have to submit to. They are long (this one nearly three hours) and slow, and nothing much happens. But they probably need to be that way. They are immersive experiences, ones that reveal subtly and honestly aspects of the human condition that are often not seen, or at least usually shown very differently. It's a film about poverty, but it isn't about squalor. It is, I guess, but it's not demeaning. The characters are people, not victims. You feel connected to them in an intimate way where another film would leave you pitying them from a distance. Sometimes you feel unbearably close to them.

       The best thing about "Ossos" is also the best thing here: the cinematography. I haven't seen anything quite like it. The deep, solid colors, the abundance of shadow, the blinding light and intricate framing. It isn't ominous darkness either, but something more comforting. Maybe not comforting, but certainly warmer. It perpetuates that feeling of intimacy. It's one of the only times I've thought that having subtitles might have detracted from the experience. It is something visual above anything else, and I'm willing to bet you could still get a lot out of it with them off.

   Rating: B+

The Phantom Carriage

   Year: 1921

   Director: Victor Sjostrom

       I have to admit, sometimes I have a slight aversion to silent films. In my mind, I stereotype them as dated and slow. Then I actually watch one and realize how foolish this false perception is. Or, unfortunately, sometimes that stereotype is reinforced. This is a case of the former, and one that makes me want to delve deeper into that part of cinematic history I have for a while neglected. There are moments here that play the nerves better than anything I've seen in a while, and it is clear it's influence is far reaching.

   Rating: A-

Touki Bouki
   Year: 1973
   Director: Djibril Diop Mambety

       Despite some cool stuff, it doesn't work. Maybe it's just my aversion to brutal and bloody animal slaughter, but I had a hard time getting close to this. And I didn't understand a lot of the motivations behind the characters actions. I was left largely indifferent to these people.

   Rating: C-