So I am not good at consistently updating these blogs. I'll try to be better. In the meantime, let's talk about movies.
My friend Matt did a great little post on his blog about a random selection of films he enjoyed last year about which he had something to say. I figured I could do something similar.
THE GIRL WITH A DRAGON TATTOO
I saw this with my friend Wickman, who immediately objected to the rape scene leaving the movie. I was happy about seeing how explicitly they were able to do it in a mainstream movie, but I left wondering: why was I so convinced it a good thing, in my eyes, that they were able to depict something so awful and horrific?
I think the reason I was so happy to see such an explicit scene is the range of emotions it forced you to feel. I think it's safe to say I haven't been that legitimately outraged at something happening to a movie character in years. Over the course of the arc between the protagonist and her social worker, I felt some degrees of outrage, squeamishness, horror, frustration, and ultimately a weird combination of triumph and schaudenfraude when she finally bested him. I've seen and worked on enough movies at this point that it's very, very difficult to have an honest, emotional reaction that isn't bogged down in some way with filmic analysis, comparisons to similar scenes in previous films, or a general overlearned sense of 'been there, done that'. Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, while certainly not immune to those considerations as this post proves, at least managed to break through the first layer of professional distance and into my core emotions, and I give the film props for doing so.
I also think it's important for the country to be able to acknowledge these types of scenes and not take the typical WASPish approach of pretending rape and other sexual uncomfortableness just doesn't happen. I've always raged against 'just don't talk about it' culture, because I think that attitude of "those types of things just don't happen around here" enables horrible things to continue to happen under a cloak of blissful ignorance and moral righteousness (see: Penn State, Catholic Church, National Football League). Art is normally the first to break barriers, and the issue of rape in America, especially in situations of uneven power, is an enormous barrier that demands to be shattered. 'Sweep it under the rug' syndrome allows an otherwise upright and moral football coach to ignore systemic child rape in his locker rooms over a span of decades; by addressing the reality of those types of horrors into pop culture, it becomes much, much harder to ignore in real life.
Also, watching that douche get the dildo jammed up his ass was one of the best moments of emotional payoff I've ever experienced.
THE ARTIST
I went into this movie hesitantly, expecting to appreciate but not quite enjoy the experience. I walked out knowing unquestionably that I watched one of my favorite films of the year.
Rarely in cinema do you see a film that is executed so flawlessly and effortlessly. From acting to direction, cinematography to choreography, soundtrack to story, The Artist was a film that rarely missed a beat. Ruthless execution can be stale; The Artist was surprising, upbeat, exciting, novel, and unique within the structure of it's perfect execution. The film was marketed around a gimmick: a black and white silent film in the modern era. While watching, the silent nature of the movie was almost unnoticable. It was a film that would have been one of my favorites if it had been in color and fully voiced: the gimmick was icing on a delicious cake.
Full credit also needs to be given to the actors. In incredibly demanding roles, both filled the room, with a virtuosity and energy normally reserved for live theatre. The inability to talk would be a handicap for many modern actors: the cast of The Artist were unleashed. The old cliche is that communication is 93% non verbal. The Artist confirms this, and demonstrates why true acting is more than reading lines on camera. Modern filmmaking is not nearly as demanding of the true theatrical skill great actors possess; silent filmmaking not only demands this skill, but showcases it and highlights it in a way that nobody can miss. Perhaps The Artist shows us that silent filmmaking does not have to be a one time gimmick, but an addition to the palette of film genres that has been left off the plate for far too long.
FAST FIVE
Alright, so I didn't really enjoy this film. But I kinda expected to, and it had its moments. That's not what interests me though. What interests me is why the rest of the artistically minded world suddenly decided to declare this relatively straight forward Fast and Furious cash cow as transcendent of the franchise.
I guess first, what did it do well? The Rock was fairly inspired and continued his improbably entertaining film career. I made the realization halfway through the movie that I think of Ludacris as an actor first and a rapper second these days. The final car chase was pretty fantastic as far as car chases go. And it was clear throughout the movie that the writers, crew, and actors were not treating this movie as simply a chance to upgrade mansions in Malibu: there was a genuine (if inexplicable) love, care, and respect for the characters in the movie that permeated every scene. If you can say a good thing about the almost hilariously testosterone charged franchise, it's that everybody involved seems to have a genuinely great time making them. And I suppose if I got paid millions of dollars to destroy Ferraris with glee, I would pretty much love my life too.
Now, the bad: as usual for a Fast and Furious franchisee, the story was laughable, the characters were flat and uninteresting, the dialogue lived in a purgatory somewhere between canned and cheesy, the pacing and plot points were so perfunctory I was surprised they didn't put the scene numbers and descriptions on the screen. This is probably totally unfair, but it's striking how The Artist could say so much with almost no words, while Fast and Furious managed to say almost nothing with an absurd amount of dialogue. The actors clearly cared about the characters, but their enthusiasm didn't amount to anything inspiring. They elicited an emotion like what I imagine watching your kids perform in an elementary play elicits: you love them for how hard they're trying, but you're checking your watch the entire time and trying not to smile wryly.
This is not to pile onto the cast and crew, who I harbor no particular ill will and definitely did a fantastic job in their objective: creating an adrenaline charged action film that meatheads can grunt over. What I don't understand is why the artistic community, normally so viciously consistent in mocking such efforts, decided that this particular installment was an exception worth of praise and appreciation.
CONCLUSION
If you're still reading, I'm fairly impressed. I'll give you a break before installment #2, which will probably come sometime in March at my current pace. Peace.
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