Week in Film #4: 1/18/16-1/24/16

Week in Film #4: 1/18/16-1/24/16

Film of the Week: Floating Weeds
   Year: 1959
   Director: Yasujiro Ozu

       Yasujiro Ozu is one of the truly unique voices in the movies. He's the kind of filmmaker who's individuality is in a different realm than others. Yes, many directors, from Kurosawa to Scorsese have a very distinct voice, but you can see influences and similarities connected to others. Ozu seems to have approached film almost as if he had never seen a movie before. That may seem like hyperbole, but there is something so incredibly original in the way he directs: his framing, his style, his tempo, his control. You might mistake the right samurai film for a Kurosawa, or a certain stylish gangster film for a Scorsese, but you wouldn't ever be confused over whether a film is an Ozu. It's a special kind of originality that is somewhat rare in cinema. Where you look at something and can be certain no one else could have made it.

       Every single shot, every single frame is perfect. With his distinct style, Ozu is able to capture the beauty and intimacy of life, and doing it with such laid back ease and patience that it seems natural and real. Real on an emotional level, not necessarily an aesthetic one, as the compositions are too meticulously perfected and the performances very restrained. It's not really in visual or the story that gives it a feeling of life, but what bleeds through in the craft of it's delivery. It's hard to explain, but it's as if Ozu has taken something that is made with artificial precision and very careful composure, and somehow made it warm and human, even nostalgic. It's power lies in it's restraint, where other directors would go for climax. By centering his characters directly in a frame he is able to create a sort of intimacy by having the characters talking directly to the camera when speaking to each other, something that feels like it shouldn't work, but somehow does.

       Using simple and uncluttered filmmaking well suits the basic theme of Ozu's filmography: family. An admirable aspect of the film is it's refusal to take sides. It simply portrays it's characters as they are, and it lets all sides of the story be brought into view. It is able to sympathize with it's young characters and its old, its men and its women, and this gives at a well rounded, multilayered, but fundamentally basic feeling. It's simple, but in an elegant, beautiful way. For the most part big drama is put to the side and the players act how they would, giving honest responses and actions. Ozu has been known to liken himself to a tofu maker, but I see him as much as a painter of films. He paints pictures of family and often times homeliness and comfortability, with deep compassion and understaning.

   Rating: A-

The Rest:

The Tale of Zatoichi Continues

   Year: 1962

   Director: Kazuo Mori

       This is pretty disappointing after the excellence of the first in the series. It is odd when a movie simultaneously does very little and tries to do too much. For some reason, Zatoichi feels an enormous debt to a samurai he met twice or so and then killed, so a year after their final confrontation he revisits his apparent great friends grave to pay his respects. This is, again, miraculously, of great emotional strain to him. Also a billion other things happened since the last film, including him falling in love, being dumped, dismembering the guy his ex left him for, and the beginning of a strong resentment that pays off in this film. Except it isn't a pay off because we have no relation what-so-ever to any of these events, and therefore have no reason to care about any of it.

   Rating: D+

The Ice Storm

   Year: 1997

   Director: Ang Lee

       It's more than just the winter that's cold, it's the distance between people, and the disconnect that happens in families and homes. But warm hearts and warm desires glow from within, giving brief spots of humanity and wonder to an otherwise frozen over world. And these things run deep throughout this movie. With subtleness and a delicate hand, Lee fashions a growing up tale for some, and a growing old tale for others. 

   Rating: B

Every Man for Himself
   Year: 1980
   Director: Jean-Luc Godard

       Theres an air about this film of a director who is, essentially, throwing whatever he can together into some incomprehensible and unnecessary collage of pretentious fabrication, hoping that his "profound" meditations on something or rather pull together into some sort of cohesive whole. But god dammit if Godard doesn't do it with hypnotic, cinematic style. It may be grasping for straws in it's attempt at finding a meaning, and one is decipherable I'm sure, it just seems so ostentatious. There is no doubt however that Godard knows what he's doing cinematically, and I can't say I was ever bored during this.

   Rating: C

Sullivan's Travels
   Year: 1941
   Director: Preston Sturges

       What this does is something very unexpected and very honest about things such as privilege, and works as a fine moral as well. Sturges has the sense and self awareness to mock himself at others like him who try to make "serious" pictures, as if they truly know a thing about suffering. And he goes further by proving how phony this is by having his stand in try to understand this, and come back with a false sense of empathy for people who have felt a hundred times the pain he thinks he's endured in his very brief venture into poverty. That is until he is mistaken for someone else and put to work on a chain gang. Then all he can say is "this isn't supposed to happen to people like me". It ends on an uplifting message of laughter is the best medicine, but it still finishes it's story with a hint of irony in the end.

   Rating: B+

Anomalisa
   Year: 2015
   Director: Charlie Kaufman

       Charlie Kaufman is such a unique voice in the world of film, that pretty much anything he puts out is destined, for me, to be at the very least greatly admired, much like the works of Quentin Tarantino or Wes Anderson. This is no exception. While this isn't perfect, this is definitely an achievement is originality and individualistic artistic expression. This is only something Kaufman could have made. That deeply depressed, hopeless yet hopeful, painful sense of humor, and a very human heart to go along with that sensibility,

   Rating: B

Rome, Open City
   Year: 1945
   Director: Roberto Rossellini

       Stark is how I would describe this. Stark and emotionally uncompromising. It doesn't pull its punches and it's more shocking instances don't feel dated, and still feel as much like a blow as I'm sure they did more than half a century ago. That being said the overall film isn't as fresh and revelatory as it was back then, and it ends up being to me very good, but not great, which is probably due to how much it has influenced what I've already seen.

   Rating: B

Europa
   Year: 1991
   Director: Lars von Trier

       Some may argue that this is style without substance, but that hardly seems to matter when the style is so fantastic. Using black and white, color, back projection, virtuoso camera shots, and a host of other impressive techniques to build a nightmarish, kafka-esque world of steel and smoke, von Trier makes a piece of cinema that seems to be simply pure cinema. This is a beautifully dark (both tonally and visually) odyssey into the horrors of war, and into the possibilities of film.

   Rating: B

Certified Copy
   Year: 2010
   Director: Abbas Kiarostami

       Like the other works from Kiarostami I've seen, this loves playing with the medium, and asking important questions about society and art, as well as love and life itself. Like an odd cross between Before Sunrise and Before Midnight, it focuses on first the possibility of romance, and then makes a startling switch too the possible outcome of a romance. It's overarching theme for me is perception. How do we see the world around us, and is it always what it seems to be to us, like different people having different interpretations of a piece of artwork.

   Rating: A-

Mulholland Drive
   Year: 2001
   Director: David Lynch

       An important tip for viewing Mulholland Drive: do not watch this over more than one night. In fact, if possible, refrain from pausing at all during this movie. This is something that is unique in it's abilities to lull you into an inescapable trance state of astonishment, captivation, and pervading, entrancing mystery. After a while you forget everything around you, and are completely transfixed onto, no rather into the screen. Unfortunately, this affect is greatly reduced when you watch it in parts. This demands your attention. Demand isn't even the right word. It's more of a seduction, one that isn't resisted, or can't be.

   Rating: A

Beasts of the Southern Wild
   Year: 2012
   Director: Benh Zeitlin

       Having seen this in class and been prompted to write about this film, as well as look at other writings on it, I've come to the conclusion that this is a very misunderstood piece of work. I don't believe it's about Katrina as much as it is about nature and the universe, and our place in that universe. Like Herzog and Malick, Zeitlin has grand and ambitious ideas about the natural world and the cosmos and life itself. Where Herzog sees nature as a cruel and merciless machine that is unconquerable, Malick sees it as the great mystery and ethereal majesty that flows through our lives, this director sees it as a big community and something to be cherished and held close to ourselves. As Hushpuppy says, we are all just little pieces in a big, big universe.

   Rating: B+

Pi
   Year: 1998
   Director: Darren Aronofsky

       Obsession is the subject of many films for a reason. That reason being that artistic drive is often very obsessive desire for perfection. And obtaining perfection is arguably an impossible task. That doesn't stop the obsessed with trying however, and in this film is does drive the person in question insane. Frantic and fearful, as well as engrossing and mysterious.

   Rating: B+

Sweet Smell of Success
   Year: 1957
   Director: Alexander Mackendrick

       Hustle and street wit in New York cities columnist atmosphere. The grimy jazz of the film is exciting and entertaining in its sleaze and moral decay. It follows immoral men and the consequences of their actions. Great performances and gorgeous black and white photography. A seminal picture about news culture.

   Rating: B

Week in Film #3: 1/11/16-1/17/16

Week in Film #3: 1/11/16-1/17/16

Film of the Week: Tangerine
   Year: 2015
   Director: Sean Baker

       I don't know if it's the best film of 2015, there is much I haven't seen, but it is likely the defining one. Topical, electric, and funny as hell, this is a fire starter picture, the kind of thing that is bound to inspire a generation of filmmakers to pick up a camera, in this case an iPhone, and capture the times and lives of the world around them. It talks about the streets, the pimps and prostitutes, and the rest on the margins of society. Remarkably, it does it without a judging lens, instead bringing us into the singular experience of people trying to survive on the outskirts, and instead of inspiring disgust or disapproval of honestly repelling lifestyles, it creates empathy and comradeship instead, making us identify and sympathize with people far removed from that of most viewers.

       It is a political film, but that isn't the best thing about it. The best thing is the characters and the situations they find themselves in. It may have heightened moments of drama and hilarity, but it never feels slapstick or goofy. It is able to maintain a realistic tone throughout, and the struggle seems real, along with the feelings, and of course the driving energy behind it. It's a comedy but it doesn't pull punches with the griminess of the streets and the hostility and brutality of a life spent working them. The characters here may initially come of as caricatures, but in they end they are rounded and three dimensional, and the audience has formed an attachment. These are real people with complicated feelings, and the director treats them as such, never exploiting them.

       This is the kind of film that is a clear snapshot of the times. The kind of thing likely to be buried in a time capsule so people in the future can see what was going on in the year of 2015. There were certainly bigger and arguably more important pictures, but this is the one that captures the time. With glamour and grime, sexual and gender awareness, and modern aesthetic and style, it is the document of today, as it documents today. Much like 2001: A Space Odyssey for 60s space fascination, or Rebel Without a Cause for 50s rebellious youth culture, this is about a time specific to now and issues that shine in the spotlight today.

   Rating: B+

The Rest: 

Red Desert

   Year: 1964

   Director: Michelangelo Antonioni

       If this is anything it is a beauty to look at. Industrialization and smoke excreting factories never looked so gorgeous and magnificent on film. The smoke itself pervades throughout the movie, and it is a powerful and striking metaphor for the main characters frame of mind. That and the use of out of focus lens really hammer home the psychological depths of our protagonist, and the way she moves across scorched and steaming vistas of industry and urban and natural architecture is poetic in its imagery. The movie is a state of mind, represented perfectly in its visuals and personified through its lead.

   Rating: B-

Man Bites Dog
   Year: 1992
   Director: Remy Belvaux, Andre Bonzel, Benoit Poelvoorde

       Early on, Ben, our resident serial killer, approaches two boys playing with a toy gun. He borrows the gun from the boys and playfully pretends to shoot them. Because of the previous scene, in which Ben brutally commits a cold blooded murder, this is absolutely terrifying. We as the audience know that the gun is a fake, but already having seen Ben as an incredibly dangerous and violent individual, there is a brief, horrifying moment where you think that he is going to blow this little kid away in broad daylight, right in front of the camera. It makes you flinch when you see it. This is, without a doubt, the blackest of pitch black comedies I've seen. Anything that features a scene where a family is murdered, including a young child, and still manages to pull off some humor, deserves some admiration in it's own right.

   Rating: B

My Man Godfrey
   Year: 1936
   Director: Gregory La Cava

       Considered by many to be the definitive screwball comedy, this is certainly a fun and care free excursion above anything else. In its dialogue and characters the humor is dead on throughout, with all of the performers giving pitch perfect portrayals all the best of the humor is in the delivery of the lines given to the actors. Everyone is great but the standout favorite for me is Alice Brady as the mother of the family, pretty much everything she says is performed just right so as to get a laugh, no matter how slight the joke. A light and easy affair well worth watching, and for those looking for something more a commentary on social class as well.

   Rating: B

Is the Man Who Is Tall Happy?
   Year: 2013
   Director: Michel Gondry

       Captivating and inventive cartoons help make complex philosophical ideas come to life. Not to say this isn't an interesting film, but it could have more going on. Essentially just an animation of a conversation, you can't help but wish there was more too it, something to add a little more meat on its bones. The conversation is indeed a fascinating one, and I couldn't say I was ever bored with it, but there is a feeling that it is just slightly lacking in its delivery, and it seems like there could have been something to give it more of a whole feeling. This would probably benefit from being much shorter, more like a half hour to forty five minute experiment rather than a feature.

   Rating: C-

We Need to Talk About Kevin
   Year: 2011
   Director: Lynne Ramsay

       This is hard edged and unforgiving, traumatic and caustic in its themes and delivery. No one is born evil, but sociopathy is certainly as close as one can come to being born that way. The movie asks a lot of interesting questions about love, and whether or not love can truly be unconditional. Tilda Swinton gives a powerful performance as the mother of her emotionally absent and immoral child. A dark and murderous character study of painful psychological plains and the dark corners of human nature.

   Rating: B

Fruitvale Station
   Year: 2013
   Director: Ryan Coogler

       This can be an emotionally merciless film, but it also an honest one. This is very much a document of the time, with the incredibly hot topic of unarmed black men being gunned down in the streets by police officers. It gives a face to a societal struggle and it humanizes the story of modern America. More than that though it is a rich character study, and is more than just its message, as all great movies should be. It makes Oscar a human being instead of another faceless martyr, and by building up with a day in the life it makes the climax that much more heat wrenching.

   Rating: B+

The Shooting
   Year: 1966
   Director: Monte Hellman

       An albeit unique western, it is also one that feels empty. That may have to do with the barrenness of the landscape, portrayed as desolate in a way I haven't often seen in the genre, but also it may have to do with the thinness of the plot and seemingly random and arbitrary aura of the film itself. The characters actions don't seem to make a lot of sense, and the the whole thing feels underwhelming and unnecessary. The director does a good job of characterizing the west though, making it a wasteland and a deathtrap instead of a place of hope, quite the opposite in fact.

   Rating: D+

Brief Encounter
   Year: 1945
   Director: David Lean

       I'm not usually the most romantic of movie goers, but something about the honesty of this picture really got to me. It doesn't fall into the usual classic Hollywood schmaltz, it feels organic and natural and real. There is a deep ache at the heart of this movie, and the narrator speaks with the kind of truth that isn't often found in romances. Yes it is a little sappy but it feels real is what it remarkable about it. When she talks about her feelings you feel them, and you sympathize and empathize because it connects with how love often goes in the real world: unrequited or cut too short. It's a movie about romance, but it's also a movie about life, and the lessons it teaches.

   Rating: A-

Death by Hanging
   Year: 1968
   Director: Nagisa Oshima

       What begins as a procedural depiction of Japans capital punishment system slowly but surely loses ever last one of its marbles in an absurd, comic perspective of the country's post-war socio-political climate. It does this through no more than a loophole in the execution process that causes moral dilemma and dark comedy. Being a straight on and blunt indictment of the country's treatment of Koreans, it savagely rips at the Japanese society of intolerance that influences the characters. I myself had stereotyped Japanese films as being a honed craft and one that is very controlled and precise. This however is unleashed, untamed and insanely inventive filmmaking.

   Rating: A-

Week in Film #2: 1/4/16-1/10/16

Week in Film #2: 1/4/16-1/10/16

Film of the Week: Harakiri
   Year: 1962
   Director: Masaki Kobayashi

       Rarely is a film so meticulously crafted and perfected on all it's fronts in the way this is: cinematically, artistically, politically, emotionally, and in sheer entertainment. This is masterwork that with great style and mastery of the craft paints a picture of a hypocritical society and of great human suffering. No punches are pulled here, not emotionally and certainly not viscerally, as the harakiri that the title eludes to are ones that are grueling and gruesome in their depictions, as brutal as the story that features them.

       From the outset the movie grabs you and holds you in place, using story techniques such as flashback too entrance you and keep you captivated. The camera moves gracefully through rooms, often patient as it waits for its subjects to move, act, and speak. Once it has you that is when it begins to squeeze, like a snake coiling itself before entering in for the kill. The pacing is on point and it somehow is able to keep you enthralled in the mysteries of its characters, and the motives that would drive them to commit extremely bloody suicide. The final results are shocking and prosecuting of a system of honor that is inhumane and rotting from the inside out. It boldly not only challenges the foundation of much ancient Japanese culture, but completely rips the samurai code to shreds as it unravels corruption and moral decay with blood and tears.

       Its brutality is also beauty, as fountain sprays of blood paint themselves black against white material, making beauty out of violence. The whole film is impeccably shot and framed, with gorgeous cinematography that is elegant in its simplicity and haunting in its starkness. Empty spaces and still patience in the camerawork evoke feelings of emptiness and loss, as well as bottled aggression in its fight scenes when the camera tracks it's warriors battling to the death over honor and immoral moralities. The slashes pack a punch in raw and unrelenting agony as the players reveal their inner selves and bear heartache, shame, and desperation in painful and great performances that make a great movie even better. 

       There is a moment partway through the film in which the director cuts from the image of a man holding a child and singing to it, to the same man sitting solitary on a mat in a courtyard, prepared to commit ritualistic suicide. It's moments like this that show how cinema is an art form like no other. With a simple moving from one image to another, it can say profound truths without so much as a single word, and imply more pain than can be comprehended without showing so much as a single tear. This is beautiful, masterful, and transcendent filmmaking. In a single succession of two shots, the simplest thing, it creates a deep feeling of loss and shows the power of the moving picture, which is one that can express in ways that other art forms cannot. 

   Rating: A

The Rest:

Vivre sa vie
   Year: 1962
   Director: Jean-Luc Godard

       If there is one thing Godard has in spades, it's style. This film floats with ease across its scenes, the camera surprisingly versatile, resulting in some truly impressive shots. The story isn't exactly incredibly strong or potent, but thats hardly the point when the director is having so much fun experimenting cinematically. Like Breathless, this is about the ebb and flow of the piece, not really about the narrative. It's about feeling and expression, and it captures its mood well.

   Rating: B-

2 or 3 Things I Know About Her
   Year: 1967
   Director: Jean-Luc Godard

       In part two of my Jean-Luc Godard prostitutes women double feature, the director shows his change from light and snappy semi-social commentary to poetic, cosmic and half profound/half pretentious social commentary. The result of this effort is a mixed bag of sometimes engaging filmmaking methods, such as characters talking their thoughts out loud to the camera, and sometimes less so, like whispered rambling narration on something or rather about either society, consumerism, and capitalism, or the mystical meanings of words and life. This is a great philosophy type movie, and typically that works well for me, but the delivery wasn't up to scratch to match the ideas, despite some interesting cinematic techniques and effective moments.

   Rating: C

Investigation of a Citizen Above Suspicion
   Year: 1970
   Director: Elio Petri

       With a brilliant screenplay and a great central performance, this is one that takes you in with impressive and well situated shots and an engrossing and very well handled story. It's subject explores the idea of power as well as any film I've seen, and takes new directions and ideas while telling a gripping tale of anti-mystery and misplaced suspense. It's an odd, frankly lunatic premise that somehow comes across as realistic and not at all silly or unbelievable. This is near flawless, aside from the most annoying boinging score ever devised. Truly masterful study of power and the immunities of authority.

   Rating: B+

The Lady Vanishes
   Year: 1938
   Director: Alfred Hitchcock

       Quick-witted and intriguing early Hitchcock, his best of his early efforts as far as I can tell from what I've seen. Where the likes of Foreign Correspondent and The 39 Steps got bogged down in slightly boring narratives and conventional contrivances, this is very much an improvement, adding a very healthy dose of humor and a really engaging mystery to go along with it. The film is pretty much pure fun from beginning to end, and features one or two nail biting sequences that the director would master in his later achievements. A much more fully realized and entertaining British era Hitchcock than I had previously seen.

   Rating: B

Ossos
   Year: 1997
   Director: Pedro Costa

       This is tough viewing, and while beautifully framed and shot, not particularly rewarding or memorable in the long run. It is something to be drudged through, with incredible bleakness and deprivation that will leave you drained and depressed, and not all that enlightened, in fact mostly just tired. The best thing that can be said about the film is the cinematography, which is just absolutely gorgeous. With darkness and popping solid colors, it has a very unique look that creates a real sense of space and atmosphere, making poverty beautiful at times, apart from the painful realism of it, that is.

   Rating: C-

Lady Snowblood
   Year: 1973
   Director: Toshiya Fojita

       Sprayed with blood and drenched in gore, this is as artistic as mind blowingly brutal violent entertainment gets. It is also essentially the original Kill Bill, making that film look like less inspired by Lady Snowblood and more a near remake of it. Like a great Tarantino movie, this is bloody fun and stylized stylistic moviemaking that is designed for mostly the purpose of entertaining though revenge fantasy and extremely graphic depictions of violence.

   Rating: B


Blithe Spirit
   Year: 1945
   Director: David Lean

       Light and airy comedy that is entertaining enough but ultimately amounts to an only decent overall picture. There are some pretty good moments of comedy, and Margaret Rutherford is genuinely hilarious throughout, being the center and best thing about every scene she is in. The rest of the cast are serviceable, but mostly just okay, none really standing out more than the others. Thats how I'd describe the whole thing to be fair: serviceable, but mostly just okay.

   Rating: C-

Seven Samurai
   Year: 1954
   Director: Akira Kurosawa

       This is a near masterpiece, and would be if it weren't for the minor quibbles of being just a little too long and having some slight pacing issues. That aside this an epic adventure story told with a remarkable amount of humanity, and featuring outstanding performances, and terrific direction from the old master Kurosawa. The fight scenes are impressive to say the least, particularly the rain soaked finale. Most unexpected is how invested you become in the characters. The story draws you in deep into them and makes you care about the ones who die, creating a true feeling of sadness at such moments. Great movie, and one that has inspired many and who's influence continues to shine throughout cinema.

   Rating: A-

1001+ Albums: 1955

1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die, which is a book listing 1001 albums you must hear before you die, will be the subject of a series of periodical posts concerning listening to and reviewing the history of the album, from the 1950s to the present day. With each post being a separate year from 1955 to two-thousand-and-something, I'll be making this an ongoing series, updating when I've caught up on my list.

1001+ Albums: 1955

Album of the Year: In the Wee Small Hours by Frank Sinatra

       Just because it wins by default (only album of 1955 in the book) doesn't mean it's any less of a strong album. In the Wee Small Hours is as blue as it gets when it comes to love, with its wallows on that elusive thing often lost or unrequited. Sinatra's deep and crooning voice is able to evoke real sadness, even when it's matched with snicker-worthy lyrics (i.e. "my cigarette burns me, I wake with a start *dramatic horn blare*, my hand isn't hurt, but there's pain in my heart). Even these moments though, even if the writing is slightly funny, are effective and seem to somehow work.

       A schmaltzy yet heartfelt, and somewhat dramatic break up album, but one with the right amount of heart. This was also a major push forward for the idea of an album as a singular piece, an art form in it's own right, possibly the first concept album. Signature vocals from Sinatra, full of ache and longing, but still smooth are the best highlight. Best listened too after a loss of a lover, or a particularly potent case of unrequited love. Full of melancholia and good old blue feeling, more appropriately put, mood indigo.

   Best Track: What is This Thing Called Love? - There is a sense of real mystery in this one. Beautiful and pondering in a lovestruck musings sort of way.
   Worst Track: I See Your Face Before Me - Not particularly bad or anything, just kind of meh.
   Rating: B+

Week in Film #1: 1/1/16-1/3/16

Week in Film #1: 1/1/16-1/3/16

Film of the Week: Holy Motors

 Year: 2012

 Director: Leos Carax

       Holy Motors is one hell of a convoluted, messy, confused, and brilliant piece of cinema. It pushes boundaries: both in coherency and in art. Its at once incredibly frustrating and possibly a masterpiece, maybe not even a flawed one, although maybe a deeply flawed one. What is it about? I really don't know. What I do know is that its captivating, beautiful, grotesque, uneasy, transcendent, and original, which are some of the most important things one looks for in great art.

       As far as I can draw from it, thats what the film is really about: art. Art, and specifically the art of performance. A man travels around Paris dressing up in different elaborate outfits, meeting "appointments", which usually involve him participating in some bizarre scenario or situation, sometimes erotic, sometimes musical, sometimes deadly, sometimes lots of things. The film is commentating on the absurdity of art, and the limits of it, or how far you can push it in other words. It might also be about the absurdity of life in general. The silly ways we behave, the seemingly random acts of violence, love, and other things that are committed everyday, all conveyed through performances echoing and enhancing the struggles of the real world.

       These "performances" range from biting peoples fingers off at fashion shoots to acting out the death of a loved one to someone the actor doesn't even know, in fact, another person who shares the same odd profession. Some of these scenes work beautifully, like for example the part where the protagonist (if you can call him that) dresses all in green and rampages through a graveyard eating flowers, the accordion/band sequence, or the "who were we" song sequence. Others do not, such as the cold blood murder of Theo, or the odd ending with chimpanzees that doesn't seem to make any sort of sense (not that any of it does). It's a mixed bag, but every individual item in said bag as it the very least interesting. I was never bored during it.

       When it comes down to it, it doesn't add up to any sort of conclusion or answer to the giant question mark that this film is, but I don't think that that's the point anyway. Maybe I just haven't thought it through all the way, or maybe I need to see it again, but I'm not entirely convinced there is a point at all. It could be that it's creating art for the sake of art, and thats why the actors, I guess you might call them in the story, perform the seemingly random acts of... well, randomness. For the sake of creating something, even if that something is nonsensical, and more than a little deranged.

   Rating: B+

The Rest:

Monty Python and the Holy Grail
   Year: 1975
   Director: Terry Gilliam and Terry Jones

       Quite simply one of the greatest comedies ever made. In that style of silliness that only Monty Python can perform, the film goes from hilarious scene to hilarious scene with disjointed narrative somehow brought together with fluid pacing and great direction and visual style. Absurdity and truly unique sense of comedy run through this, using bold and somehow magically effective techniques that seem like they should derail the film, but somehow just make it that much more funny and entertaining. There is not one joke that falls flat here, and the entirety of it is essentially quotable from beginning to end. This is one of the truly great comedic masterpieces, a rare broad comedy that transcends its genre and becomes a great movie in and of itself.

   Rating: A

Love and Mercy
   Year: 2015
   Director: Bill Pohlad

       More than just your ordinary bog standard biopic, this film captures Brian Wilson's painful and brilliant life with a more interesting viewpoint, and real artistic style, as opposed to the usual formulaic route these films tend to take. Pohlad wisely decides to focus on Wilson's story instead of the Beach Boys story, and therefore is able to bring into understanding the mans vision and musical genius, as well as create a powerful and effective character study of a deeply troubled man. Dano does a good job portraying Wilson as a troubled, sensitive, tender human being, as does Cusack, although it must be said not as deeply or as effectively as his younger form. While not quite a revolution, definitely a breath of fresh air for biopics.

   Rating: B

The Times of Harvey Milk
   Year: 1984
   Director: Rob Epstein

       A classic documentary that brings profound feeling to the life and impact of Harvey Milk. Using insightful interviews and archival footage, this film takes us into the politics and atmosphere of the time. The most surprising thing about the film is the emotional heft that the film is able to conjure, and the impact it has on the viewer. It is also interesting to draw parallels to today, and how much better things are as well has how little change there has been in some regards. A thoughtful and well made documentary.

   Rating: B

Dope
   Year: 2015
   Director: Rick Famuyiwa

       With an electricity and vibrancy that is hard to capture, Dope is another take on that classic archetypal story: the coming of age tale. This, however, is also a commentary on race and class in modern America, as well as an honest look at youth culture and what it's like growing up in poverty stricken conditions. I was surprised to see things such as regular searches of schools and a metal detector at the front door of them as well. The young cast in this does a good job, and all three main leads show promise. Well done new take on the genre.

   Rating: C+

The Double Life of Veronique
   Year: 1991
   Director: Krzysztof Kieslowski

       Kieslowski is a filmmaker obsessed with chance and fate, and it has never taken more center stage than in this film. Shrouded in mystery and surrounded by an air of magical surrealism, it holds a fairy tale aura about it, or maybe more like one of a dream. It's beautiful in many ways, and the most notable is the gorgeous green and gold tinted cinematography. Kieslowski's films, especially the later ones, have rich color pallets, and utilize bold, stand out hues to express emotion and give an amazing look to his films. The shot compositions too are often simply amazing and frame things in such a way that it tells the story itself, and helps fill in the many blanks this film has (not a criticism). Finally, there is Irene Jacob, who is just as good in this as she was in another Kieslowski film, Red, possibly even better. Deep in mystery and full of beauty.

   Rating: A-

The Tale of Zatoichi
   Year: 1962
   Director: Kenji Misumi

       An exciting and surprisingly emotional first chapter in the 20 plus entry long filmic saga of Zatoichi, the blind swordsman. I had seen this before, but revisiting it to kick off a marathon of every film in the series, I was reminded of just how well made and especially well shot and performed this was. The black and white cinematography is often stunning, with more than a couple of great shots. The action is well thought out too, all fast and explosive. What really took me off guard though was the emotional power of some scenes, particularly the final sword fight on the bridge. Shintaro Katsu is very good as the titular character, and leaves you anticipating seeing more from him as the series continues.

   Rating: B+

Following
   Year: 1998
   Director: Christopher Nolan

       I guess that's why you shouldn't follow people. A neo-noir that is very clearly influenced by it's predecessors with all the usual trapping: femme fatale, black and white photography, etc. I found this enjoyable and well made, but not particularly new or too inventive, apart from the interesting use of non-linear narrative. Overall middle of the road. Good but nothing to write home about. Nolan's best work is still yet to come.

   Rating: C+