The Dead Girl (2006)
Dir. By: Karen Moncrieff
Starring: Toni Collette, Brittany Murphy, Marcia Gay Harden.
If you've lost faith in independent films, this is the movie to brighten your eyes. It was an even greater gust of fresh air to watch a film with such strong female characters, written and directed by a woman. I'm a walking, talking Jamba Juice FemBoost.
What's worth acknowledging about The Dead Girl is how far a strong script will go. The visual style and structure were left simple (usually the downfall of indie films), and created room to carve out each of the characters within their separate acts. There's a secret recipe of depth, variety, and drama that thread interwoven lives together in this genre, and Karen Moncrieff got it just right. Of course the subtle performances in this highly emotional setting carried the whole movie to sweet perfection, but all rely first on that delicate balance in the script.
Other amazing feats of The Dead Girl:
1. Giovanni Ribisi played his same character... but different! There was a ton of complexity to such a seemingly stock character.
2. James Franco's claymation face.
3. Brittany Murphy's accent. (What the hell?)
4. Avoiding on-screen violence in a movie about a violent murder. It ruins so many low-budg films and it would have ruined this one.
My advice: Don't go chasing artsy first-time director's indie films all willynilly now, but see this one.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Monday, June 11, 2007
Love Actually vs. Paris Je T'aime
Love Actually (2003)
Dir. by: Richard Curtis
Starring: everyone ever
Paris Je T'aime (2006)
Dir. by: most directors
Starring: almost everyone
I pair these films based on the proximity of when I first viewed them, and how they each deal with the intersecting-vignette genre. As an added bonus, they both concern LOVE. Being in love, not being in love, loving things that aren't real, fighting for love, and giving up on it...they really get into it.
Love Actually pumps the warmth straight to your left ventricle. It's set during Christmas, book-ended by airport welcomes and farewells, and ties each tiny story together with a little bow that's so cute you can't throw away. So many tiny stories, in fact, with just the right amount of depth, that when you make the first round and revisit a couple, you had almost forgot they were there. It's creepy. You find yourself enjoying Hugh Grant, despite yourself. You accept the coincidental interlacing of lives, despite your hatred of Crash. You don't mind sappy back stories, dramatic expressions of love, or unrealistic gambles of the heart- and it's not just the British accents. All these despite-yourselves are the direct result of pervasive subtlety, amusing dialogue, and full-bodied characters. And let's not forget Christmas. You have surrendered your hard heart to two hours of ensembley goodness.
Paris Je T'aime is a collection of 18 short films, based in love on the streets of Paris. Star-studded to blindness, this collection takes the back alley to love, with many shorts dealing with love in the least likely places: divorced lovers, a drug dealer and his client, even vampires. Not surprisingly, the most enjoyable shorts are mainly from the most acclaimed directors, and between those you'll count how many shorts are left to go before the long list of credits roll. You will not get lost in these stories, that seemingly do not intertwine save for a feeble montage attempt at the very end, not because they are so short and so separate, but because the elements of exposition, political divides, and character development often lack that crucial slight-of-hand necessary in romance stories. It is a great experiment with some very valuable shorts that whisk you away to the heart of Paris, but more often than not lacks a perceptible pulse.
And this is why Love Actually is a guilty pleasure for some grown men and many many women, and why Paris Je T'aime will be found on Netflix ten years from now by about 15 people, who will think it looks like an epic film that somehow slipped under the radar, and will most likely be turned off less than halfway through, and returned with something like shame.
My advice: If you haven't seen Love Actually, just buy it. If you've seen Paris Je T'aime, watch it with someone who hasn't, and sift out the gems by the Coen Bros, Nobuhiro Suwa, Gena Rowlands, and Alexander Payne, with your finger on fast-forward. Or skip, or whatever those new-fangled dvd remotes have. Watching the films in succession will illustrate the do's and do not's of vignette films, for sure.
Dir. by: Richard Curtis
Starring: everyone ever
Paris Je T'aime (2006)
Dir. by: most directors
Starring: almost everyone
I pair these films based on the proximity of when I first viewed them, and how they each deal with the intersecting-vignette genre. As an added bonus, they both concern LOVE. Being in love, not being in love, loving things that aren't real, fighting for love, and giving up on it...they really get into it.
Love Actually pumps the warmth straight to your left ventricle. It's set during Christmas, book-ended by airport welcomes and farewells, and ties each tiny story together with a little bow that's so cute you can't throw away. So many tiny stories, in fact, with just the right amount of depth, that when you make the first round and revisit a couple, you had almost forgot they were there. It's creepy. You find yourself enjoying Hugh Grant, despite yourself. You accept the coincidental interlacing of lives, despite your hatred of Crash. You don't mind sappy back stories, dramatic expressions of love, or unrealistic gambles of the heart- and it's not just the British accents. All these despite-yourselves are the direct result of pervasive subtlety, amusing dialogue, and full-bodied characters. And let's not forget Christmas. You have surrendered your hard heart to two hours of ensembley goodness.
Paris Je T'aime is a collection of 18 short films, based in love on the streets of Paris. Star-studded to blindness, this collection takes the back alley to love, with many shorts dealing with love in the least likely places: divorced lovers, a drug dealer and his client, even vampires. Not surprisingly, the most enjoyable shorts are mainly from the most acclaimed directors, and between those you'll count how many shorts are left to go before the long list of credits roll. You will not get lost in these stories, that seemingly do not intertwine save for a feeble montage attempt at the very end, not because they are so short and so separate, but because the elements of exposition, political divides, and character development often lack that crucial slight-of-hand necessary in romance stories. It is a great experiment with some very valuable shorts that whisk you away to the heart of Paris, but more often than not lacks a perceptible pulse.
And this is why Love Actually is a guilty pleasure for some grown men and many many women, and why Paris Je T'aime will be found on Netflix ten years from now by about 15 people, who will think it looks like an epic film that somehow slipped under the radar, and will most likely be turned off less than halfway through, and returned with something like shame.
My advice: If you haven't seen Love Actually, just buy it. If you've seen Paris Je T'aime, watch it with someone who hasn't, and sift out the gems by the Coen Bros, Nobuhiro Suwa, Gena Rowlands, and Alexander Payne, with your finger on fast-forward. Or skip, or whatever those new-fangled dvd remotes have. Watching the films in succession will illustrate the do's and do not's of vignette films, for sure.
Spiderman 3 vs. Waitress
Spiderman 3 (2007)
Dir. by: Sam Raimi
Starring: Tobey Maguire, Kirsten Dunst, James Franco
Waitress (2007)
Dir. by: Adrienne Shelly
Starring: Keri Russell, Nathan Fillion, Cheryl Hines
Hm...Is pitting these two summer films against each other unfair, and merely an excuse to slam Spiderman 3? Perhaps.
I went to see Spiderman 3 at the first midnight screening, at Hollywood's Arclight Cinema. (This firmly establishes my dedication and credibility.) I left around 3 am, my mind tangled in, yes, webs of horrible dialogue, stomach-churning awkward subplots, and the most under-whelming fight scenes of any graphic novel set to motion, that I've seen. (Meaning that my strict standard of movie-viewing absolutely prevented me from seeing comic adaptations on the level of, say, Daredevil.) About half way through the film, I realized I was having the opposite of fun, right around the time that the film lamp went wonky and distorted the coloring of a few scenes. This tiny defect was enough to earn a free admission ticket, one that I felt entirely deserved.
I used this free pass not much more than 12 hours later, at a matinee of Waitress. My reasoning, knowing only that Keri Russell starred, was that even a romantic comedy starring Keri Russell would be better than Spidercrap 3.
To my great surprise, it was!
That afternoon, I had big plans for this review. Comparing how each film treated the elderly, how a more simple visual style can be more captivating than an influx of unmotivated action sequences, how stories can be new even within very stylized genres, et cetera.
Since then, one major issue has stuck in my side when I think about these films. Even after weeks of not writing this review, I feel this one argument still worth exploring - that old stand-by: female characters.
Love Story involving Abuse : Mary Jane vs. Keri Russell
Everyone knows that old comics, especially Spiderman, are all about love. What's the greatest motivation for Peter Parker? MJ. It's a soap opera under the thinly veiled auspices of an action movie, and everyone is happy to be fooled. Spiderman 3, for some reason, incorporated abuse within Peter and Mary Jane's otherwise wholesome relationship. An hour through Spiderman 3, Mary Jane has endured a great deal of public humiliation and relationship deal-breakers... and says nothing... does nothing to defend herself... weakly moving through the scenes as the most transparent and simplistic device.
Similarly, everyone knows that romantic comedies are about love! It's inherent. Waitress, an anti-love story, also revolves around domestic abuse. For a good part of the film, we see Jenna (Keri Russell) withstand verbal and emotional abuse, including public humiliation. However, her goal throughout the film is to set her pregnant self free, and after many, yes, baby steps, she eventually divorces her abusive husband. AND creates a successful business.
At the end of Spiderman 3, Mary Jane steps off the stage after singing at a small club, right back into the arms of her abusive boyfriend, without a word to explain Venom, or whatever evil possessed Peter to strike her. It was so beautiful, I almost left the theater. I know she's supposed to be the love interest, the thing that Spiderman has to save from falling or something falling on, I get it. I just want to care about the characters. If you let your boyfriend hit you, then yes, maybe a taxi cab should crush you. I'm not saying on-screen violence, to a man or woman, is wrong. In fact, I love violent movies. I just want to see characters fight back. Or leave. Or start a pie business. Anything. Otherwise, I could go watch the evening news.
Dir. by: Sam Raimi
Starring: Tobey Maguire, Kirsten Dunst, James Franco
Waitress (2007)
Dir. by: Adrienne Shelly
Starring: Keri Russell, Nathan Fillion, Cheryl Hines
Hm...Is pitting these two summer films against each other unfair, and merely an excuse to slam Spiderman 3? Perhaps.
I went to see Spiderman 3 at the first midnight screening, at Hollywood's Arclight Cinema. (This firmly establishes my dedication and credibility.) I left around 3 am, my mind tangled in, yes, webs of horrible dialogue, stomach-churning awkward subplots, and the most under-whelming fight scenes of any graphic novel set to motion, that I've seen. (Meaning that my strict standard of movie-viewing absolutely prevented me from seeing comic adaptations on the level of, say, Daredevil.) About half way through the film, I realized I was having the opposite of fun, right around the time that the film lamp went wonky and distorted the coloring of a few scenes. This tiny defect was enough to earn a free admission ticket, one that I felt entirely deserved.
I used this free pass not much more than 12 hours later, at a matinee of Waitress. My reasoning, knowing only that Keri Russell starred, was that even a romantic comedy starring Keri Russell would be better than Spidercrap 3.
To my great surprise, it was!
That afternoon, I had big plans for this review. Comparing how each film treated the elderly, how a more simple visual style can be more captivating than an influx of unmotivated action sequences, how stories can be new even within very stylized genres, et cetera.
Since then, one major issue has stuck in my side when I think about these films. Even after weeks of not writing this review, I feel this one argument still worth exploring - that old stand-by: female characters.
Love Story involving Abuse : Mary Jane vs. Keri Russell
Everyone knows that old comics, especially Spiderman, are all about love. What's the greatest motivation for Peter Parker? MJ. It's a soap opera under the thinly veiled auspices of an action movie, and everyone is happy to be fooled. Spiderman 3, for some reason, incorporated abuse within Peter and Mary Jane's otherwise wholesome relationship. An hour through Spiderman 3, Mary Jane has endured a great deal of public humiliation and relationship deal-breakers... and says nothing... does nothing to defend herself... weakly moving through the scenes as the most transparent and simplistic device.
Similarly, everyone knows that romantic comedies are about love! It's inherent. Waitress, an anti-love story, also revolves around domestic abuse. For a good part of the film, we see Jenna (Keri Russell) withstand verbal and emotional abuse, including public humiliation. However, her goal throughout the film is to set her pregnant self free, and after many, yes, baby steps, she eventually divorces her abusive husband. AND creates a successful business.
At the end of Spiderman 3, Mary Jane steps off the stage after singing at a small club, right back into the arms of her abusive boyfriend, without a word to explain Venom, or whatever evil possessed Peter to strike her. It was so beautiful, I almost left the theater. I know she's supposed to be the love interest, the thing that Spiderman has to save from falling or something falling on, I get it. I just want to care about the characters. If you let your boyfriend hit you, then yes, maybe a taxi cab should crush you. I'm not saying on-screen violence, to a man or woman, is wrong. In fact, I love violent movies. I just want to see characters fight back. Or leave. Or start a pie business. Anything. Otherwise, I could go watch the evening news.
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
Blade Runner: Director's Cut
BLADE RUNNER - Director's Cut (1982)
Dir. by: Ridley Scott.
Starring: Harrison Ford, Daryl Hannah, Sean Young, and Rutger Hauer.
This is me putting aside all prejudice of films big and small that I have already seen based on the writings of Philip K. Dick. Me: stepping over all science fiction sins that claim to pay homage to this film. Me again! Attempting my very best to place myself in 1982 (aka Embryo Carol, whheeee!), and see these effects as new. As you can see, I chose to watch the Director's Cut, because narration by Harrison Ford over any movie would make it plain ridiculous and utterly unwatchable to me.
I enjoyed Blade Runner, much more than I thought I would. It's one of those movies everyone tells you to see, because you have to see it's a classic can't believe you never saw it, etc. But then they tell you it's slow and hard to get through. And cheesy. And seemingly hackneyed, even though it came way before Fifth Element and Brazil, not too mention Minority Report and A.I.- both based on the same story by Dick. (chortle) Those films took some things from Blade Runner, just as Blade Runner took some stuff from Metropolis, Close Encounters, and (insert name of any 80s thriller involving a saxophone on its soundtrack and girls with big hair).
Fact: This film is slow! Thank you, each of you, who told me this in advance. The best thing I can say about the pacing and the structure is that made the whole world a desert- in this future LA where anyone worthwhile has moved Off World, where these Replicants somehow got back but have to be "retired"/killed asap (even though they have a life span of four years that's almost up), where everything sucks and nothing is pretty and love is dead- in that kind of world, yes, I believe that things would go pretty slowly, and robots could have feelings, and humans could be much like robots. Sure. Unfortunately, the worst thing I can say is that I didn't make me care too much about human robots, or robot humans.
So, with a complete lack of characters to care for, I found myself watching the movie for its aesthetics (like Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette!). The production design is just so damn respectable.... The scenes involving gory deaths were satisfying, and I can only hope the inevitable remake will have some amazing improvements in splatter shots. Not too mention a little less stumbling through panes of glass... tell me SNL did something with that at the time....
The opening sequence of Blade Runner- the 2019 vision of Los Angeles- is exactly the picture I feel my family and friends on the east coast have painted in their minds of where I've chosen to live. LA in twelve years will apparently be a cross between Tokyo, Star Wars, and a giant iPod ad. In a world of endless possibilities, that could of course be true, but if this city hasn't crumbled into the Pacific by then, I envision a city with more open spaces, cleaner air, better public transportation, and less homeless on the street. Now THAT'S science fiction!! GET IT?!?! Actually, my only problem with Blade Runner's setting was the complete lack of a Latino community. Don't tell me all those illegal immigrants got safe passage to Off World. Throw a couple of taco stands in the drear of post-space-settlement South Land, and you have yourself a willfully suspended disbelief believer named Carol.
Self-Discovery through Blade Runner:
No matter how hopeless a fight or chase might be, I swear I would never think of climbing out the window to continue it from great heights with precious little footing.
No matter how much I love someone who just died, I swear I would never rub their blood on my lips, even in a blinding spell of grief.
No matter what you might think of me, I often enjoy Daryl Hannah's on screen performances. "We're stupid and we'll die." Easily one of my favorite lines.
My advice: You should watch Blade Runner, even though it's slow, out-dated, and is filled with annoying and inexplicable roaming beams of light.
Dir. by: Ridley Scott.
Starring: Harrison Ford, Daryl Hannah, Sean Young, and Rutger Hauer.
This is me putting aside all prejudice of films big and small that I have already seen based on the writings of Philip K. Dick. Me: stepping over all science fiction sins that claim to pay homage to this film. Me again! Attempting my very best to place myself in 1982 (aka Embryo Carol, whheeee!), and see these effects as new. As you can see, I chose to watch the Director's Cut, because narration by Harrison Ford over any movie would make it plain ridiculous and utterly unwatchable to me.
I enjoyed Blade Runner, much more than I thought I would. It's one of those movies everyone tells you to see, because you have to see it's a classic can't believe you never saw it, etc. But then they tell you it's slow and hard to get through. And cheesy. And seemingly hackneyed, even though it came way before Fifth Element and Brazil, not too mention Minority Report and A.I.- both based on the same story by Dick. (chortle) Those films took some things from Blade Runner, just as Blade Runner took some stuff from Metropolis, Close Encounters, and (insert name of any 80s thriller involving a saxophone on its soundtrack and girls with big hair).
Fact: This film is slow! Thank you, each of you, who told me this in advance. The best thing I can say about the pacing and the structure is that made the whole world a desert- in this future LA where anyone worthwhile has moved Off World, where these Replicants somehow got back but have to be "retired"/killed asap (even though they have a life span of four years that's almost up), where everything sucks and nothing is pretty and love is dead- in that kind of world, yes, I believe that things would go pretty slowly, and robots could have feelings, and humans could be much like robots. Sure. Unfortunately, the worst thing I can say is that I didn't make me care too much about human robots, or robot humans.
So, with a complete lack of characters to care for, I found myself watching the movie for its aesthetics (like Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette!). The production design is just so damn respectable.... The scenes involving gory deaths were satisfying, and I can only hope the inevitable remake will have some amazing improvements in splatter shots. Not too mention a little less stumbling through panes of glass... tell me SNL did something with that at the time....
The opening sequence of Blade Runner- the 2019 vision of Los Angeles- is exactly the picture I feel my family and friends on the east coast have painted in their minds of where I've chosen to live. LA in twelve years will apparently be a cross between Tokyo, Star Wars, and a giant iPod ad. In a world of endless possibilities, that could of course be true, but if this city hasn't crumbled into the Pacific by then, I envision a city with more open spaces, cleaner air, better public transportation, and less homeless on the street. Now THAT'S science fiction!! GET IT?!?! Actually, my only problem with Blade Runner's setting was the complete lack of a Latino community. Don't tell me all those illegal immigrants got safe passage to Off World. Throw a couple of taco stands in the drear of post-space-settlement South Land, and you have yourself a willfully suspended disbelief believer named Carol.
Self-Discovery through Blade Runner:
No matter how hopeless a fight or chase might be, I swear I would never think of climbing out the window to continue it from great heights with precious little footing.
No matter how much I love someone who just died, I swear I would never rub their blood on my lips, even in a blinding spell of grief.
No matter what you might think of me, I often enjoy Daryl Hannah's on screen performances. "We're stupid and we'll die." Easily one of my favorite lines.
My advice: You should watch Blade Runner, even though it's slow, out-dated, and is filled with annoying and inexplicable roaming beams of light.
Monday, March 5, 2007
The Baxter
THE BAXTER (2005)
Dir. by Michael Showalter
Starring Michael Showwalter, Elizabeth Banks, Michele Williams
Why did all my friends hate this movie? We all love Stella and The State, yet all I heard were terrible reviews. A certain amount of terrible reviews will ALWAYS provoke me to watch a movie (Brown Bunny, Last Days, etc.) out of self-destructive curiousity. Turns out I really liked The Baxter.
It was very simple. Mr. Showalter has clearly never written and directed a film. But he didn't fail, he just made a simple romantic comedy. I appreciated the fact that it was a TRUE romantic comedy, and not just a romantic movie, the way some recent romantic comedies claim to be funny and are not. The humor was simple too, employing Showalter's classic lines ("...another big word") and usual cast-mates. I never mind a jogging Michael Ian Black, never.
I even forgave the use of the Tiny Detail Wrecks Engagement technique. I can never buy it when couples doubt their wedding plans because of a small fight or action (Meet the Parents, Father of the Bridge, etc.). Here, I just pretended he was making fun of those movies. Which may be true. But probably wasn't. It was probably a lack of plot points. But I can pretend.
My advice: Only expect to like this movie if: 1. you already like Mr. Showalter's previous works and 2. you are in or starting a relationship. If you are single, avoid this movie.
Dir. by Michael Showalter
Starring Michael Showwalter, Elizabeth Banks, Michele Williams
Why did all my friends hate this movie? We all love Stella and The State, yet all I heard were terrible reviews. A certain amount of terrible reviews will ALWAYS provoke me to watch a movie (Brown Bunny, Last Days, etc.) out of self-destructive curiousity. Turns out I really liked The Baxter.
It was very simple. Mr. Showalter has clearly never written and directed a film. But he didn't fail, he just made a simple romantic comedy. I appreciated the fact that it was a TRUE romantic comedy, and not just a romantic movie, the way some recent romantic comedies claim to be funny and are not. The humor was simple too, employing Showalter's classic lines ("...another big word") and usual cast-mates. I never mind a jogging Michael Ian Black, never.
I even forgave the use of the Tiny Detail Wrecks Engagement technique. I can never buy it when couples doubt their wedding plans because of a small fight or action (Meet the Parents, Father of the Bridge, etc.). Here, I just pretended he was making fun of those movies. Which may be true. But probably wasn't. It was probably a lack of plot points. But I can pretend.
My advice: Only expect to like this movie if: 1. you already like Mr. Showalter's previous works and 2. you are in or starting a relationship. If you are single, avoid this movie.
The Birds
THE BIRDS (1963)
Dir. By Alfred Hitchcock
Starring Jessica Tandy, Rod Taylor
I recently saw this classic again at the New Beverly Cinema, a theater experience which I consider to be one of the best ideas anyone has ever had in LA. It was a second home to me when I first moved here: double features of new and old movies for cheap. Amazing. Anyway I saw The Birds, and I have to admit it was out of sheer boredom. I remember seeing it a long time ago and thinking it was alright, but definitely not my favorite Hitchcock.
Boy. Was I wrong. I think this movie is perfect. Start to finish, it is perfect in dialogue, plot, action, and character. If you took away the bird attacks, the film would be this cute little movie about a quirky rich woman and a boring lawyer, with the classic Hitchcock mother element. In fact, for the first thirty minutes or so, that IS the film. Which is just enough distraction to make you KEEP FORGETTING about the BIRD ATTACKS. It's quite amazing. The suddenness of those bird shots made people actually yell out loud in the theater.
Even more incredible was the laughter from the audience. I would love to travel back in time and watch this with a contemporary audience. I think I would be the only one laughing most times. Not that I think that the dialog in The Birds is how people really spoke back then, just as we don't talk like movie characters of this era. People were just used to that bizarre, old-fashioned moviespeak. I wonder if Hitchcock would be pleased at how hilarious this film has become...?
I keep saying The Birds is genius in the same way as Mr. T's "Be Yourself or Be Somebody Else's Fool" PSA series is genius. If a filmmaker tried to remake either, that person would fail. In each case, what we perceive those decades as now is a glorified and stylized distortion. It would be impossible to get someone act in a true 80s fashion, because no one would accept it. Plus, the new technology in film stock, cameras, sound, and editing would make it nearly impossible to compose the same look.
So, essentially I'm saying that I hope no one remakes The Birds, or Mr. T's PSAs, or anything other classic. Fuck remakes.
Dir. By Alfred Hitchcock
Starring Jessica Tandy, Rod Taylor
I recently saw this classic again at the New Beverly Cinema, a theater experience which I consider to be one of the best ideas anyone has ever had in LA. It was a second home to me when I first moved here: double features of new and old movies for cheap. Amazing. Anyway I saw The Birds, and I have to admit it was out of sheer boredom. I remember seeing it a long time ago and thinking it was alright, but definitely not my favorite Hitchcock.
Boy. Was I wrong. I think this movie is perfect. Start to finish, it is perfect in dialogue, plot, action, and character. If you took away the bird attacks, the film would be this cute little movie about a quirky rich woman and a boring lawyer, with the classic Hitchcock mother element. In fact, for the first thirty minutes or so, that IS the film. Which is just enough distraction to make you KEEP FORGETTING about the BIRD ATTACKS. It's quite amazing. The suddenness of those bird shots made people actually yell out loud in the theater.
Even more incredible was the laughter from the audience. I would love to travel back in time and watch this with a contemporary audience. I think I would be the only one laughing most times. Not that I think that the dialog in The Birds is how people really spoke back then, just as we don't talk like movie characters of this era. People were just used to that bizarre, old-fashioned moviespeak. I wonder if Hitchcock would be pleased at how hilarious this film has become...?
I keep saying The Birds is genius in the same way as Mr. T's "Be Yourself or Be Somebody Else's Fool" PSA series is genius. If a filmmaker tried to remake either, that person would fail. In each case, what we perceive those decades as now is a glorified and stylized distortion. It would be impossible to get someone act in a true 80s fashion, because no one would accept it. Plus, the new technology in film stock, cameras, sound, and editing would make it nearly impossible to compose the same look.
So, essentially I'm saying that I hope no one remakes The Birds, or Mr. T's PSAs, or anything other classic. Fuck remakes.
Little Miss Sunshine
LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE - 2005
Directed by Valerie Faris (r.i.p.) and Jonathan Dayton, Written by Michael Arndt, Starring Toni Collette, Steve Carell, Alan Arkin, etc.
Sometimes I don't know why I see movies anymore.
This Afterbirth is going to be about the movie, as well as the article on it by Josh Horowitz in Filmmaker magazine entitled, "Super Freaks". And a little background.
By amazing twists of fate, extreme luck, and great sex, I went to Sundance Film Festival this year. Not with my first feature, no, but with my then-new boyfriend, who works in the Music Industry. I posed as a fluid member of Rufus Wainwright's band and collected tickets to as many movies as I could. My two top choices were The Science of Sleep and Little Miss Sunshine. I ended up seeing Half Nelson, Sherrybaby*, and The Illusionist. (Half Nelson was phenomenal, and I saw it a second time two days ago. Writing an Afterbirth on it would be one big worshipy blow job, so I will leave it at "phenomenal".)
I am so glad I saw Half Nelson instead! Little Miss Sunshine wasn't bad, but it was nothing, and that's worse. I left the theater feeling like I should just stay home and watch Harold and Maude until my eyes bleed, and save my ticket fare.
In my latest issue of Filmmaker, I was saving the review of Little Miss Sunshine for post-viewing. I swerved into a coffee shop and dug in. Now, here is a movie that it's best to be aware of its history. Everything I discovered in this article was so obvious:
1. The script had been put of for years, gone from studio to studio, rewrite after rewrite. Of course it had! This is the kind of movie everyone was trying to make after The Royal Tennebaums. Trying. This movie was trying too hard. For meaning, for humor, but I'll get to that later.
2. The film had multiple endings. When the credits rolled, I blinked. Really? That's it? You want me to swallow that?! Fuck you. Did they just drive off into the sunset? Fuck you. Fuck fuck fuck you.
3. The directors' chief influences were, ironically, Harold and Maude, The Graduate, Five Easy Pieces... Faris said these movies have "the kind of humor that comes out of characters and situations rather than jokes." Oh my god, yes, you're right Valerie, yes. But the situations aren't ladden with AWKWARDNESS in those movies. Those movies are genius, every filmmaker wants to make Harold Maude, that kind of dead pan humor. The scenes in Little Miss Sunshine were manufactured and awkward. And it IS funny, I laughed a whole lot. But it was covering my eyes with embarrassment for these characters, especially the last scene, in the pageant. That scene is retarded, in every sense of the word. This movie will never be like those perfect films that the director claims to imitate. That's just it. Imitation. Fuck! Why do people think that putting wacky fucked up characters in wacky fucked up situation, a great movie makes? Are audiences that easy to manipulate? This movie was as predictable as the directors' obvious desire to be UNpredictable. You put a failed suicide case on screen, and in the end, every thing's okay and HE'S spouting cheery life advice to a teenager. Ohmygod this movie had no balls. This movie was ball-less.
...hhh. okay.
What really bothered me was Toni Collette's character, the only one in the film without crisis, without gain, loss, goals, besides I guess keeping her family together. Greeeeaaaattttt. Just where we want our girls. And this movie is about a little girl in a beauty pageant?! This is fertile fucking ground to say SOMETHING, ANYTHING about gender and sexuality. So I read in this article, and they start talking about characters, how every person in the family is rebelling in one way or another, and I'm thinking oh good they will answer my questions about Sheryl's character... and Faris says: "Even Sheryl, who I wouldn't normally call a rebel, when she's faced with the pageant has to decide, Do I support my daughter regardless of what is going on here?"
I went to Valerie Faris's house and stabbed her in the heart. Then I burned down Michael Arndt's house while he was sleeping.
This is Sheryl's rebellion, her struggle. The other characters face career failure, public defaming, heroin addictions, loss of dreams, I could go on. But Sheryl. Her struggle is the one that everyone in the family also faces. Oh my god. They admitted it right there in print and they deserved what I wish I did to them.
This begs the question: Why does it have to say anything about gender and sexuality? Does every movie have to change your life? Yes. It has to say something more about these subjects because it presents an opinion in the girls of the beauty pageant. In the conversation about body image. And Sheryl is the only adult female actress. I'm not saying she has to be neo-fem, make her pathetic, make her abusive, but make her have a voice of some kind. Please. And every movie should change my life, because I gave up part of it to watch it. Why else are we making movies.
I could have left the theater at peace. But I cannot make excuses for films with shitty crappy shit crap characters. Not Sundance movies, not independent films. No. The performances saved it. If you don't want a lead character, if you truly want an ensemble cast, then make every single character important to me.
And stop trying to be Hal Ashby, it's never gonna happen.
My advice for a pageant movie (call me trendy): Donnie Darko, Drop Dead Gorgeous.
My advice for offbeat humor, you guessed it: Harold and Maude.
*Do not ever see Sherrybaby ever, if you value cinema and your time.
POST SCRIPT...
I wrote this afterbirth a few months before the Oscars. I spent all of February avoiding conversations about this film. Then I would talk about it only by incorporating the word shit cleverly within its title, a barely remarkable task. By the weekend of the Oscars, the bottle of my pent up opinions effectively burst, driving away family, friends, and co-workers who did not share my belief (and none of them did). Come Oscar night, I was thankful for two things:
1. My boyfriend hated the film as well, otherwise that would have been one perfectly good relationship come to close and
2. At least it didn't win fucking Best Picture.
Directed by Valerie Faris (r.i.p.) and Jonathan Dayton, Written by Michael Arndt, Starring Toni Collette, Steve Carell, Alan Arkin, etc.
Sometimes I don't know why I see movies anymore.
This Afterbirth is going to be about the movie, as well as the article on it by Josh Horowitz in Filmmaker magazine entitled, "Super Freaks". And a little background.
By amazing twists of fate, extreme luck, and great sex, I went to Sundance Film Festival this year. Not with my first feature, no, but with my then-new boyfriend, who works in the Music Industry. I posed as a fluid member of Rufus Wainwright's band and collected tickets to as many movies as I could. My two top choices were The Science of Sleep and Little Miss Sunshine. I ended up seeing Half Nelson, Sherrybaby*, and The Illusionist. (Half Nelson was phenomenal, and I saw it a second time two days ago. Writing an Afterbirth on it would be one big worshipy blow job, so I will leave it at "phenomenal".)
I am so glad I saw Half Nelson instead! Little Miss Sunshine wasn't bad, but it was nothing, and that's worse. I left the theater feeling like I should just stay home and watch Harold and Maude until my eyes bleed, and save my ticket fare.
In my latest issue of Filmmaker, I was saving the review of Little Miss Sunshine for post-viewing. I swerved into a coffee shop and dug in. Now, here is a movie that it's best to be aware of its history. Everything I discovered in this article was so obvious:
1. The script had been put of for years, gone from studio to studio, rewrite after rewrite. Of course it had! This is the kind of movie everyone was trying to make after The Royal Tennebaums. Trying. This movie was trying too hard. For meaning, for humor, but I'll get to that later.
2. The film had multiple endings. When the credits rolled, I blinked. Really? That's it? You want me to swallow that?! Fuck you. Did they just drive off into the sunset? Fuck you. Fuck fuck fuck you.
3. The directors' chief influences were, ironically, Harold and Maude, The Graduate, Five Easy Pieces... Faris said these movies have "the kind of humor that comes out of characters and situations rather than jokes." Oh my god, yes, you're right Valerie, yes. But the situations aren't ladden with AWKWARDNESS in those movies. Those movies are genius, every filmmaker wants to make Harold Maude, that kind of dead pan humor. The scenes in Little Miss Sunshine were manufactured and awkward. And it IS funny, I laughed a whole lot. But it was covering my eyes with embarrassment for these characters, especially the last scene, in the pageant. That scene is retarded, in every sense of the word. This movie will never be like those perfect films that the director claims to imitate. That's just it. Imitation. Fuck! Why do people think that putting wacky fucked up characters in wacky fucked up situation, a great movie makes? Are audiences that easy to manipulate? This movie was as predictable as the directors' obvious desire to be UNpredictable. You put a failed suicide case on screen, and in the end, every thing's okay and HE'S spouting cheery life advice to a teenager. Ohmygod this movie had no balls. This movie was ball-less.
...hhh. okay.
What really bothered me was Toni Collette's character, the only one in the film without crisis, without gain, loss, goals, besides I guess keeping her family together. Greeeeaaaattttt. Just where we want our girls. And this movie is about a little girl in a beauty pageant?! This is fertile fucking ground to say SOMETHING, ANYTHING about gender and sexuality. So I read in this article, and they start talking about characters, how every person in the family is rebelling in one way or another, and I'm thinking oh good they will answer my questions about Sheryl's character... and Faris says: "Even Sheryl, who I wouldn't normally call a rebel, when she's faced with the pageant has to decide, Do I support my daughter regardless of what is going on here?"
I went to Valerie Faris's house and stabbed her in the heart. Then I burned down Michael Arndt's house while he was sleeping.
This is Sheryl's rebellion, her struggle. The other characters face career failure, public defaming, heroin addictions, loss of dreams, I could go on. But Sheryl. Her struggle is the one that everyone in the family also faces. Oh my god. They admitted it right there in print and they deserved what I wish I did to them.
This begs the question: Why does it have to say anything about gender and sexuality? Does every movie have to change your life? Yes. It has to say something more about these subjects because it presents an opinion in the girls of the beauty pageant. In the conversation about body image. And Sheryl is the only adult female actress. I'm not saying she has to be neo-fem, make her pathetic, make her abusive, but make her have a voice of some kind. Please. And every movie should change my life, because I gave up part of it to watch it. Why else are we making movies.
I could have left the theater at peace. But I cannot make excuses for films with shitty crappy shit crap characters. Not Sundance movies, not independent films. No. The performances saved it. If you don't want a lead character, if you truly want an ensemble cast, then make every single character important to me.
And stop trying to be Hal Ashby, it's never gonna happen.
My advice for a pageant movie (call me trendy): Donnie Darko, Drop Dead Gorgeous.
My advice for offbeat humor, you guessed it: Harold and Maude.
*Do not ever see Sherrybaby ever, if you value cinema and your time.
POST SCRIPT...
I wrote this afterbirth a few months before the Oscars. I spent all of February avoiding conversations about this film. Then I would talk about it only by incorporating the word shit cleverly within its title, a barely remarkable task. By the weekend of the Oscars, the bottle of my pent up opinions effectively burst, driving away family, friends, and co-workers who did not share my belief (and none of them did). Come Oscar night, I was thankful for two things:
1. My boyfriend hated the film as well, otherwise that would have been one perfectly good relationship come to close and
2. At least it didn't win fucking Best Picture.
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