I'd never questioned the MPAA. I always thought ratings were there because they had to be, and when a film had no rating, it was because it was so suitable for everyone, it didn't even need a rating. Boy, was I wrong.
This Film is Not Yet Rated opened my eyes to the evil world of the ratings board. The only word I can think to describe it is unfair. The MPAA holds a tyranny over movies, and they cater to the needs of big studios and executives. What I don't understand is how they refuse to alter their policies, even when faced with the overwhelming evidence in this film that bias exists in their ratings.
What made me especially angry is their claim that their board is a good representation of parents in America, despite the fact that the seem to be of primarily one political party, of just a handful of races, and overall, of a similar, conservative mind.
I feel like this is censorship, even if they aren't a government organization. I mean, if they give an independent film an NC-17 rating, the film probably won't accept it. So, they restrict that crowd that will get access to this film by restricting its distribution outlets, its advertising, and its overall audience. So, their preventing a large portion of the audience from seeing the film. Essentially, its censorship.
Also, if the ratings are optional, why are people subjected to them? What I mean is, if the rating is not required by law, why do we as moviegoers have to adhere to them? Why are we being forced to follow laws that stem from a private organization and that benefit only the studios and those directly involved with the MPAA?
Watching this makes me glad there are things like commonsensemedia.org and the internet in general, where organizations like the MPAA can't sink their controlling claws. At least not yet, and hopefully not ever.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Dancer in the Dark
Everybody remembers Bjork, and the awful, awful swan dress. She was a red carpet bomb, though definitely memorable, which I guess you could argue is more important. However, I had never, ever heard of this movie, and did not know that was why she was at the Oscars. In fact, since I knew Bjork was a foreign artist, I assumed that this was a foreign language film when I first heard of it.
The actual film was... interesting, to say the least. For me, there were three main aspects that stood out: the cinematography, the story, and the music.
First, the cinematography. Since Von Trier was part of the Dogma 95 movement, I could see where the more naturalistic style of filming would come in (even though this film is not quite a Dogma 95 film). Part of me was really intrigued by the style. It made the film more personal; it made me sympathize more with Selma, feel more for her plight. The way it was filmed, I felt as though I was watching one long home movie about the Selma's life. Even when Von Trier would move the camera to follow the action, it was done in such a way that it felt as though I was standing there, and my head was turning to follow the action. However, by the end of the film, I was a little bit irritated by the style. It may sound a little "Hollywood" of me, but why watch something for entertainment if its quality is so low? I mean, I can respect that its very avant-garde, and that it does contribute to the viewing of the film, but by the end I was a little bit tired of it.
Another thing about the cinematography is that it changes from "real" life to "musical" life. I like this aspect of it; it gives a strong distinction between Selma's actual reality and the "reality" she lives in her head. This contributes greatly to one of the overall themes in the film. The real world, where Selma exists with her poor eyesight, is blurry and low quality. But the world in Selma's head, where her eyesight doesn't matter and her vision is crystal clear, is sharp and bright in contrast.
Then, there was the actual plot of the film. I could not think of a more depressing plot if I tried. I was crying by the end of the film, as I assume everyone who is human also did. What was really sad was that Selma was relatively upbeat, despite all the ordeals life threw at her. This seems so unrealistically wonderful to me, because if Selma can be this way, why can't everyone be? Despite how naive and irritating Selma could be at times, I could never have wished death upon her, and it was heartbreaking that she got something she absolutely did not deserve.
Finally, there was the music. All I can say is, I don't know what inspired Bjork to sing the way and what she did, but it was strange and not at all appealing to me personally. I cannot understand how the soundtrack got an Oscar nod.
All in all, Dancer in the Dark is an alright film. I wouldn't recommend it for entertainment purposes, but I cannot deny, despite all my problems with it, that it has artistic relevance.
The actual film was... interesting, to say the least. For me, there were three main aspects that stood out: the cinematography, the story, and the music.
First, the cinematography. Since Von Trier was part of the Dogma 95 movement, I could see where the more naturalistic style of filming would come in (even though this film is not quite a Dogma 95 film). Part of me was really intrigued by the style. It made the film more personal; it made me sympathize more with Selma, feel more for her plight. The way it was filmed, I felt as though I was watching one long home movie about the Selma's life. Even when Von Trier would move the camera to follow the action, it was done in such a way that it felt as though I was standing there, and my head was turning to follow the action. However, by the end of the film, I was a little bit irritated by the style. It may sound a little "Hollywood" of me, but why watch something for entertainment if its quality is so low? I mean, I can respect that its very avant-garde, and that it does contribute to the viewing of the film, but by the end I was a little bit tired of it.
Another thing about the cinematography is that it changes from "real" life to "musical" life. I like this aspect of it; it gives a strong distinction between Selma's actual reality and the "reality" she lives in her head. This contributes greatly to one of the overall themes in the film. The real world, where Selma exists with her poor eyesight, is blurry and low quality. But the world in Selma's head, where her eyesight doesn't matter and her vision is crystal clear, is sharp and bright in contrast.
Then, there was the actual plot of the film. I could not think of a more depressing plot if I tried. I was crying by the end of the film, as I assume everyone who is human also did. What was really sad was that Selma was relatively upbeat, despite all the ordeals life threw at her. This seems so unrealistically wonderful to me, because if Selma can be this way, why can't everyone be? Despite how naive and irritating Selma could be at times, I could never have wished death upon her, and it was heartbreaking that she got something she absolutely did not deserve.
Finally, there was the music. All I can say is, I don't know what inspired Bjork to sing the way and what she did, but it was strange and not at all appealing to me personally. I cannot understand how the soundtrack got an Oscar nod.
All in all, Dancer in the Dark is an alright film. I wouldn't recommend it for entertainment purposes, but I cannot deny, despite all my problems with it, that it has artistic relevance.
Singin' in the Rain
Everybody knows it. We've all had the song stuck in our head, and we've all been to the Universal attraction that tells us about the director's choice to use milk instead of water for the rain. I'm certainly not an exception to this. But I had never actually seen the movie until this class.
Let me just preface this by saying that I love musicals, so I may be biased in my liking of this film. However, someone who doesn't like musicals would certainly still be able to appreciate the satire of musicals in the film. And honestly, even if you don't like the songs, there's no way you can't appreciate Gene Kelly's dancing.
Singin' in the Rain is a meta-musical- it explores the transition of a movie studio from silent film to sound, all set to a musical script. It was enjoyable to watch, particularly because it was comedic in nature. The dialogue was very witty, especially amongst Don, Kathy, and Cosmo. This is important because even if the musical numbers had been removed from the film, it still would've have made for an enjoyable, albeit slightly less entertaining, film. The movie, while filling most of the stereotypes of musicals- humorous and light, with tons of dancing- has the ability to stand on its own as a normal film. This cannot be said of most musical films (I guess it can be said, depending on who's arguing it, but I digress).
The one thing that seemed the most problematic about this film however, and the thing we discussed the most in class, was the musical number Don proposes for the film (within the film)- the Broadway Melody Ballet. It is an especially long sequence that has nothing to do with the film. It does not further the plot in any way, it does not contribute to character development, and it does not even make much sense in terms of the film Don is proposing it for. All in all, the sequence feels out of place, and for those who do not like musicals, it makes the film less enjoyable.
That being said, I really, really liked it. This film is already pretty meta, and including this number just takes it to the next level of "meta". I mean, we're watching a film, about the making of a film, and then we go inside Don's head to see the making of a part of the making of a film. In this way, however loosely this can be argued, it furthers the sense of "metaness" in Singin' in the Rain.
Additionally, I really liked the music and dancing in the sequence. Not only did it go through a wide range of musical styles, it also went through a wide range of tempos and dances. I found myself getting lost in it; I forgot I was watching a movie because I was so enraptured with the musical number itself. In fact, my favorite part was when the main character and the lead female do a semi-ballet type thing. Its so well-choreographed and so beautifully shot that I don't really care that it has nothing to do with the movie itself. I'm just glad I got to see it.
Bottom line is, Singin' in the Rain is a great movie, and it knows how to poke fun at itself. Despite that however, it probably isn't good for those who don't enjoy the musical genre. This segregating aspect of it, however, has certainly not hurt its reputation over the years.
Let me just preface this by saying that I love musicals, so I may be biased in my liking of this film. However, someone who doesn't like musicals would certainly still be able to appreciate the satire of musicals in the film. And honestly, even if you don't like the songs, there's no way you can't appreciate Gene Kelly's dancing.
Singin' in the Rain is a meta-musical- it explores the transition of a movie studio from silent film to sound, all set to a musical script. It was enjoyable to watch, particularly because it was comedic in nature. The dialogue was very witty, especially amongst Don, Kathy, and Cosmo. This is important because even if the musical numbers had been removed from the film, it still would've have made for an enjoyable, albeit slightly less entertaining, film. The movie, while filling most of the stereotypes of musicals- humorous and light, with tons of dancing- has the ability to stand on its own as a normal film. This cannot be said of most musical films (I guess it can be said, depending on who's arguing it, but I digress).
The one thing that seemed the most problematic about this film however, and the thing we discussed the most in class, was the musical number Don proposes for the film (within the film)- the Broadway Melody Ballet. It is an especially long sequence that has nothing to do with the film. It does not further the plot in any way, it does not contribute to character development, and it does not even make much sense in terms of the film Don is proposing it for. All in all, the sequence feels out of place, and for those who do not like musicals, it makes the film less enjoyable.
That being said, I really, really liked it. This film is already pretty meta, and including this number just takes it to the next level of "meta". I mean, we're watching a film, about the making of a film, and then we go inside Don's head to see the making of a part of the making of a film. In this way, however loosely this can be argued, it furthers the sense of "metaness" in Singin' in the Rain.
Additionally, I really liked the music and dancing in the sequence. Not only did it go through a wide range of musical styles, it also went through a wide range of tempos and dances. I found myself getting lost in it; I forgot I was watching a movie because I was so enraptured with the musical number itself. In fact, my favorite part was when the main character and the lead female do a semi-ballet type thing. Its so well-choreographed and so beautifully shot that I don't really care that it has nothing to do with the movie itself. I'm just glad I got to see it.
Bottom line is, Singin' in the Rain is a great movie, and it knows how to poke fun at itself. Despite that however, it probably isn't good for those who don't enjoy the musical genre. This segregating aspect of it, however, has certainly not hurt its reputation over the years.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Vertigo
When the name Alfred Hitchcock is dropped, people immediately think suspenseful. Certainly the name is synonymous with thrillers, films that keep you on the edge of your seat right to the last moment. Hitchcock's 1958 thriller Vertigo does not disappoint. A masterfully done film, Vertigo captures the audience's attention from the strange but artsy introduction right to the final moments.
At first, this movie was truly astounding. I was captivated by the intricate, complicated story, which kept me guessing. A truly amazing thing is the fact that despite revealing the twist in the middle of the movie, Hitchcock is able to keep the story going, and for quite some time. At first you believe that Vertigo really is about the mysterious actions of Madeleine Elster and Scottie's determination to uncover the truth. But as the movie progresses past Madeleine's demise, you realize that it is truly about Scottie, and his personal battle to let go. At the beginning, when his partner falls to his death, Scottie cannot let go of the feeling that it is his fault, and that his fear of heights is the cause. He is so consumed and burdened by the guilt that he leaves his post as a detective within the police force. Later, when Madeleine similarly falls to her death, Scottie cannot forget and move on. Rather, he spends his days searching for a new Madeleine, one who can fill the void in his heart that her death brought on.
However, when I reached the end of the movie, I was shocked and disappointed. Not only did the ending make no sense, it was too sudden and swift an ending for a movie that had been so good thus far. First of all, what on earth did Judy think was happening that scared her so much? Nowhere perviously was it established that Judy was scared or feared for her life, except maybe at the end when Scottie was scaring her by roughly questioning her. Yet, a vague, shadowy figure (that clearly resembles a nun) frightens Judy enough for her to fall to her death, without a thought. It just doesn't make sense.
This got me thinking about the movie some more, and I discovered that I had problems with the plot. For one thing, when Judy, playing as Madeleine, went to the hotel, Scottie followed in right after her. But the hotel keeper said she hadn't seen anybody, and when Scottie looks out the window, Madeleine's car is gone. How Madeleine got in and out of the hotel without the hotel keeper or Scottie knowing is never explained. At the time it didn't seem odd, because you're wondering just how real Madeleine is. But when it is revealed that Judy was simply playing Madeleine, this little detail is simply glossed over. As well, if Judy truly fell in love with Scottie when playing Madeleine, why didn't she tell him exactly what was going on? At the end of the movie, Judy tells Scottie that she ran away from him and up those steps to stop the murder from taking place. Really? Why not tell Scottie what was going on before she led him to that town? I mean, she knew that the murder was going to take place there and then, so why not clue him in and have the police brought to the scene?
I know, there are answers to that last query. Scottie still thought she was crazy, or she loved him but also loved Elster, or even she didn't have the guts to try and stop Elster until the very last moment. The most obvious answer, I suppose, is that it wouldn't be much of a movie if Elster had been stopped. But that doesn't stop me from being disappointed in the plot.
That being said, the movie was still well done. Cinematically, the shots were incredible, especially the shot of Madeleine driving along the water with Scottie following her. The scene is so wonderfully filmed, with the wide shot of both cars driving around a bend, that it makes you forget about the movie for a second and forces you to ponder the art behind it. Truly, Vertigo was shaped up to be one of my favorite movies until that ridiculous end, but, I can't have everything I suppose. C'est la vie.
At first, this movie was truly astounding. I was captivated by the intricate, complicated story, which kept me guessing. A truly amazing thing is the fact that despite revealing the twist in the middle of the movie, Hitchcock is able to keep the story going, and for quite some time. At first you believe that Vertigo really is about the mysterious actions of Madeleine Elster and Scottie's determination to uncover the truth. But as the movie progresses past Madeleine's demise, you realize that it is truly about Scottie, and his personal battle to let go. At the beginning, when his partner falls to his death, Scottie cannot let go of the feeling that it is his fault, and that his fear of heights is the cause. He is so consumed and burdened by the guilt that he leaves his post as a detective within the police force. Later, when Madeleine similarly falls to her death, Scottie cannot forget and move on. Rather, he spends his days searching for a new Madeleine, one who can fill the void in his heart that her death brought on.
However, when I reached the end of the movie, I was shocked and disappointed. Not only did the ending make no sense, it was too sudden and swift an ending for a movie that had been so good thus far. First of all, what on earth did Judy think was happening that scared her so much? Nowhere perviously was it established that Judy was scared or feared for her life, except maybe at the end when Scottie was scaring her by roughly questioning her. Yet, a vague, shadowy figure (that clearly resembles a nun) frightens Judy enough for her to fall to her death, without a thought. It just doesn't make sense.
This got me thinking about the movie some more, and I discovered that I had problems with the plot. For one thing, when Judy, playing as Madeleine, went to the hotel, Scottie followed in right after her. But the hotel keeper said she hadn't seen anybody, and when Scottie looks out the window, Madeleine's car is gone. How Madeleine got in and out of the hotel without the hotel keeper or Scottie knowing is never explained. At the time it didn't seem odd, because you're wondering just how real Madeleine is. But when it is revealed that Judy was simply playing Madeleine, this little detail is simply glossed over. As well, if Judy truly fell in love with Scottie when playing Madeleine, why didn't she tell him exactly what was going on? At the end of the movie, Judy tells Scottie that she ran away from him and up those steps to stop the murder from taking place. Really? Why not tell Scottie what was going on before she led him to that town? I mean, she knew that the murder was going to take place there and then, so why not clue him in and have the police brought to the scene?
I know, there are answers to that last query. Scottie still thought she was crazy, or she loved him but also loved Elster, or even she didn't have the guts to try and stop Elster until the very last moment. The most obvious answer, I suppose, is that it wouldn't be much of a movie if Elster had been stopped. But that doesn't stop me from being disappointed in the plot.
That being said, the movie was still well done. Cinematically, the shots were incredible, especially the shot of Madeleine driving along the water with Scottie following her. The scene is so wonderfully filmed, with the wide shot of both cars driving around a bend, that it makes you forget about the movie for a second and forces you to ponder the art behind it. Truly, Vertigo was shaped up to be one of my favorite movies until that ridiculous end, but, I can't have everything I suppose. C'est la vie.
Friday, February 18, 2011
La Regle Du Jeu
"The awful thing about life is this: everybody has their reasons."
And so seems to be the central point of Jean Renoir's classic film, Le Regle Du Jeu. A critique of the bourgeoisie in pre-WWII France, this film spares no expense at ridiculing upper-class french society. As World War II looms on the horizon, and the threat of Hitler is very real, Christine le Chesnaye is concerned only with the men in her life, and which affairs mean the most to her. Yet Christine is not the only one; her husband Robert and her maid Lisette also carry on extra-marital affairs which seem to lead to nothing but trouble. But each character, for their own reasons, prefers to think only of themselves.
The film begins as what seems to be a comedy of manners. Andre loves Christine, who might love Andre, Octave, or Robert, who loves Christine or Genevieve. And then there's Lisette, who seems to carry on with anyone but her husband. What is most interesting about these affairs is the difference in reaction between those of the upper-class and those of the working class. Christine and Andre, though each saddened by the affairs the other carries on, treat them lightly, and without much seriousness. There seem to be an unspoken set of rules that cannot be broken, rules that allow affairs which are conducted correctly. However, in Lisette's case, her husband Schumacher gets very angry about her affairs, and is not afraid to express his disapproval. In the party near the end of the movie, a stark contrast is shown between Schumacher's reaction and Robert/Andre's reaction. While Schumacher chases Marceau, Lisette's lover, around the house with a gun to defend his wife's honor, Andre and Robert simply argue about who loves Christine more. Though they exchange a few blows, this seems more brought on by their drunkenness than a true desire to defend Christine. What's more, at the end Christine cannot chose between Octave, Andre, and Robert, and decides to settle for the one who is the most daring. It has nothing to with love; Christine simply wants adventure, and is only interested in these men as long as they can give that to her. Lisette, though a member of the working class, seems to align her relationship morals with those of Christine. Lisette seems to represent the portion of french society that looks up to the upper-class whereas Schumacher represents the portion that is grounded more in reality.
Besides the story itself, La Regle Du Jeu also makes interesting use of camerawork. In particular, the hunting scene makes use of peculiar editing, specifically fast cuts. In the scene, several animals are shown being shot as they flee from the hunters. The filming of this scene take a good five minutes of the movie, switching from rabbit to bird to rabbit in rapid succession. The point of the scene seems to be to imply the excessiveness of the bourgeois and their tendency for waste without care. Another interesting scene is the one in which Schumacher chases Marceau around the hunting lodge with a gun. There are long periods in which the camera follows the two without cutting to a different shot. This creates a sort of verisimilitude of space because it allows us to see several rooms of the mansion.
Though a very engaging film, it is certainly not without faults. The biggest fault seems to be a discrepancy between the tones at the beginning and the end of the film. The majority of the film is fairly light-hearted and comedic in nature. Though there are undertones of dramatic elements, it is outwardly portrayed as humorous. However, things take a very serious, very dramatic turn when Schumacher, in a fit of jealousy, shoots Andre. It happens very quickly, but the change in tone goes from light to dark at the drop of a hat. And before the audience has time to perceive this change and adjust, the movie is over. To be fair, there is a very important statement in the shooting of Andre and the cover-up of the truth. One of the "rules of the game" is that saving face is more important than anything else. Christine and Robert, as members of high society, would rather claim that Andre was mistaken for a poacher than reveal that Christine was going to elope with a lover. However, while this point is in conjunction with the theme of the rest of the movie- the ridiculous rules of upper-class society- the change in tone is too quick and results in it being very awkward.
All in all, La Regle Du Jeu is certainly a film worth watching. And truly, Octave said it best. The awful thing about life is that everybody has their reasons.
Monday, January 17, 2011
The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari
When I think of silent-era films, I think of... well, I mostly just think of Birth of a Nation, because I don't really know that many silent films. I certainly don't think of a thrilling plot or clear artistic expression. The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari definitely changed my viewpoint. With its expressionist backdrop and plot reminiscent of Shutter Island, this movie really captivated my attention.
First and foremost, the story was great. It kept me guessing the whole way through, and provided a new twist at every turn. Just when it seemed that the plot was resolved, the movie took a whole new turn that threw everything out of balance. If it truly is the first twist-ending ever, it certainly set the standard for twist-endings in films.
Second, the setting was spectacular. At first, I thought it just looked stupid. The doors were weird and slanted, and the decor of many of the places in Holstenwall were just overall strange. But once it was revealed- Spoiler Alert!- that it was all a dream, it made much more sense. From an artistic viewpoint, the bizarre backdrop reinforced just how insane Francis truly was, and added to the eccentricity of the whole story.
Finally, I really liked what Weine did with limited camera movement, especially when the scenery in the shot was the fair. By keeping the moving carousel in the background, the monkey in the forefront, and people walking through rather than just standing around and filling the scene, Weine really generated the sense of a fun-filled fair. As well, when the murderer visits Alan in the night, the use of shadow to portray the murder really contributed to the sense of mystery.
All in all, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari was very enjoyable and fairly riveting. I can only imagine how the movie would turn out if made in modern times, with the technology available today.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)