In terms of writing the mini-reviews for this blog I am doing well and, once I can get the style of them correct, I will be gaining momentum. Writing extended reviews of individual films is the next goal, but I may already have a candidate for the first one. From the films I am interested in doing longer reviews for, it will be clear that, despite being dedicated to all films, I will pushing more for the more unconventional, and transgressive and surreal, works.
In regards to the review of Chris Petit’s 2010 film Content, I may have to correct my belief that the film was only shown at the Rotterdam Film Festival this year and once on primetime British TV. There is a possibility that Content was shown at least a few times in speciality cinemas in the UK.
With that, the first film I watched in this post was somewhat of a disappointment for 2010 for me, one that I am still going to think about, and rewatch, by the name of...
The Sky Crawlers (Mamoru Oshii, 2008)
‘The story unfolds in another 'possible' modern age. The main characters are youngsters called "Kildren", who are destined to live eternally in their adolescence. The Kildren are conscious that every day could be the last, because they fight a "war as entertainment" organized and operated by adults. But as they embrace the reality they are faced with, they live their day-to-day lives to the full.’ – From Anime News Network
A difficult film that is still hard to judge. On one hand, its long, slow periods between the few aerial battles did have potency, having long periods for contemplation – a trademark of Oshii’s work – which made me anticipate what would happen next and exemplify the aimlessness that war probably feels like. That the film also only drips the slightest bits of information about its world, leaving you in the position of the characters, furthers this feeling. Sadly after a long wait of anticipation there came a sense that, just as I thought the film would remain subtle, it suddenly felt the need to pound its message into me about war without anything truly insightful about it. That this message has to rely on a plot twist, one which would encourage a second viewing but very little intellectual ‘meat’ to ponder, seems exceptionally lazy. Oshii’s qualities as a director can be seen and it is worth seeing but, for a man in his lesser known work can be extremely subtle or able to convey obvious messages in a very thoughtful way, this suffers the same problem as I think the overrated Ghost In The Shell (1995) has, also directed by him, in suddenly trying to cram ideas in the final act that felt badly forced.
The Outrage (Martin Ritt, 1964)
‘A Mexican bandit, Juan Carrasco, spies a newlywed couple journeying through rugged country. He confronts them, rape and robbery on his mind, and the husband ends up dead. From the viewpoints of each participant and witness, a different story is told of what "really" happened...’ – From IMDB
Meanwhile, this turned out to be a pleasant surprise. As an American remake of Akira Kurosawa’s acclaimed Rashomon (1950), this western was already in a precarious position of being a pale imitation in the shadow of the original. It would be interesting to compare the two in a double bill, especially as a chance to rewatch Kurosawa’s film and see what my feelings are about it now, but this version is still able to stand on its own two feet. Were it not for the middle part that slightly lagged, and Paul Newman being far too broad to play a Mexican bandit – another example along with Chalton Heston in Touch of Evil (1958) of why casting white actors as Mexicans and darkening their skin artificially for the role isn’t a good idea, even if Heston did well in his role – this would be far better, but thankfully it doesn’t compromise the ending of the original, keeping the message and tone. As it stands, it is worth viewing not just as a curiosity but as a film in its own right. Also, along with Roger Corman’s The Intruder (1962), it is another film with William Shatner in it, as a priest, where he shows himself as a far more interesting actor for me than a simply dismissible one.
Beau Travail (Claire Denis, 1998)
‘This film focuses on ex-Foreign Legion officer, Galoup, as he recalls his once glorious life, leading troops in the Gulf of Djibouti. His existence there was happy, strict and regimented, but the arrival of a promising young recruit, Sentain, plants the seeds of jealousy in Galoup's mind. He feels compelled to stop him from coming to the attention of the commandant who he admires, but who ignores him. Ultimately, his jealousy leads to the destruction of both Sentain and himself.’ – From IMDB
While I confess to having not read the original Herman Melville story that inspired this, you would never think the first scene of a Melville adaptation would be on the floor of a dance floor, especially when the song playing sounds like a non-English version of Holly Valance’s Kiss Kiss, a song that got into the British Top 40 years ago only to suddenly disappear for the better. (If you are interested in pop music, or not, the song used in the film is actually the original version, a Turkish song called Şımarık by Tarkan which Valance covered with completely different lyrics. No one reading this probably cares but it interested me). It is quite fitting that I saw this and The Sky Crawlers not that far from each other, as both have main characters trapped in an environment, in this case a member of the French Legionnaires who, because of the habitat and the strict rules, tightens and tightens until he unravels. They both also have very slow paces, but in the case of Claire Denis’ film, she exceeds immensely, helped further by eye-catching cinematography that adds to the film’s mood. It is a very unconventional film but, as a burst of energy is released in the final scene, it succeeds. This is not the first Denis film I have seen, that would be the gory psycho-sexual horror Trouble Every Day (2001) starring Vincent Gallo and Béatrice Dalle, but this is the first one in a long time which makes me anticipate going through her filmography.
The Road To Memphis (Richard Pearce, 2003)
For the last few months I have been going through the 2003 series The Blues, a Martin Scorsese produced series of documentaries by different directors (Scorsese himself, Clint Eastwood, Mike Figgis etc.) on different aspects of American blues music. Out of the ones I’ve seen – with only two left as this post comes out – the German director Wim Wender’s entry, The Soul of A Man, is the best, and also the one that tries to be more than a standard TV documentary with recreations in black-and-white and Laurence Fishburne narrating as the late Blind Willie Johnson. That said the others, expect Clint Eastwood’s horrifically dull Piano Blues, are interesting and this one was no different, exploring the Beale Street music scene in Memphis, Tennessee, and concentrating on musicians B.B. King, Rosco Gordon and Bobby Rush. Watching the whole series is recommended as they are great introductions to blues music.
Le Concert (Radu Mihaileanu, 2009)
‘Thirty years ago, Andrei Simoniovich Filipov, the renowned conductor of the Bolshoi orchestra, was fired for hiring Jewish musicians. Now a mere cleaning man at the Bolshoi, he learns by accident that the Châtelet Theater in Paris invites the Bolshoi orchestra to play there. He decides to gather together his former musicians and to perform in Paris in the place of the current Bolshoi orchestra. As a solo violin player to accompany his old Jewish or Gypsy musicians he wants Anne-Marie Jacquet, a young virtuoso. If they all overcome the hardships ahead this very special concert will be a triumph.’ – From IMDB
I must admit I really wanted to like this. It’s not necessarily that bad especially when the interactions between actors Aleksei Guskov and Melanie Laurent, the latter recognisable to English viewers who have seen Quentin Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds (2009), take place. Also for a very sentimental film I couldn’t help but be partly swept away by it at the end, especially when the central classical piece performed is a great one from composer Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. The only problem is that its tonal shifts clunk so much you can see the seams. The comedy is usually in the registers of loud, and loud and wacky, and it has been a while - far more than in The Sky Crawlers - since a film has whacked me in the head with its political message with the subtlety of a 2X4. It’s a shame, as the only person under forty or fifty in the theatre when I watched this, that I couldn’t share as much enjoyment with it as everyone else did in the cinema. It turned out to be as ramshackle as its orchestra of misfits only no way near as talented.
In regards to the review of Chris Petit’s 2010 film Content, I may have to correct my belief that the film was only shown at the Rotterdam Film Festival this year and once on primetime British TV. There is a possibility that Content was shown at least a few times in speciality cinemas in the UK.
With that, the first film I watched in this post was somewhat of a disappointment for 2010 for me, one that I am still going to think about, and rewatch, by the name of...
The Sky Crawlers (Mamoru Oshii, 2008)
 |
| From http://liveactionanime.org/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/the-sky-crawlers.jpg |
A difficult film that is still hard to judge. On one hand, its long, slow periods between the few aerial battles did have potency, having long periods for contemplation – a trademark of Oshii’s work – which made me anticipate what would happen next and exemplify the aimlessness that war probably feels like. That the film also only drips the slightest bits of information about its world, leaving you in the position of the characters, furthers this feeling. Sadly after a long wait of anticipation there came a sense that, just as I thought the film would remain subtle, it suddenly felt the need to pound its message into me about war without anything truly insightful about it. That this message has to rely on a plot twist, one which would encourage a second viewing but very little intellectual ‘meat’ to ponder, seems exceptionally lazy. Oshii’s qualities as a director can be seen and it is worth seeing but, for a man in his lesser known work can be extremely subtle or able to convey obvious messages in a very thoughtful way, this suffers the same problem as I think the overrated Ghost In The Shell (1995) has, also directed by him, in suddenly trying to cram ideas in the final act that felt badly forced.
The Outrage (Martin Ritt, 1964)
 |
| From http://cinemastationblog.files.wordpress.com/2010/06/outrage.jpg |
Meanwhile, this turned out to be a pleasant surprise. As an American remake of Akira Kurosawa’s acclaimed Rashomon (1950), this western was already in a precarious position of being a pale imitation in the shadow of the original. It would be interesting to compare the two in a double bill, especially as a chance to rewatch Kurosawa’s film and see what my feelings are about it now, but this version is still able to stand on its own two feet. Were it not for the middle part that slightly lagged, and Paul Newman being far too broad to play a Mexican bandit – another example along with Chalton Heston in Touch of Evil (1958) of why casting white actors as Mexicans and darkening their skin artificially for the role isn’t a good idea, even if Heston did well in his role – this would be far better, but thankfully it doesn’t compromise the ending of the original, keeping the message and tone. As it stands, it is worth viewing not just as a curiosity but as a film in its own right. Also, along with Roger Corman’s The Intruder (1962), it is another film with William Shatner in it, as a priest, where he shows himself as a far more interesting actor for me than a simply dismissible one.
Beau Travail (Claire Denis, 1998)
 |
| From http://images.allocine.fr/r_760_x/medias/nmedia/00/02/13/46/affiche.jpg |
While I confess to having not read the original Herman Melville story that inspired this, you would never think the first scene of a Melville adaptation would be on the floor of a dance floor, especially when the song playing sounds like a non-English version of Holly Valance’s Kiss Kiss, a song that got into the British Top 40 years ago only to suddenly disappear for the better. (If you are interested in pop music, or not, the song used in the film is actually the original version, a Turkish song called Şımarık by Tarkan which Valance covered with completely different lyrics. No one reading this probably cares but it interested me). It is quite fitting that I saw this and The Sky Crawlers not that far from each other, as both have main characters trapped in an environment, in this case a member of the French Legionnaires who, because of the habitat and the strict rules, tightens and tightens until he unravels. They both also have very slow paces, but in the case of Claire Denis’ film, she exceeds immensely, helped further by eye-catching cinematography that adds to the film’s mood. It is a very unconventional film but, as a burst of energy is released in the final scene, it succeeds. This is not the first Denis film I have seen, that would be the gory psycho-sexual horror Trouble Every Day (2001) starring Vincent Gallo and Béatrice Dalle, but this is the first one in a long time which makes me anticipate going through her filmography.
The Road To Memphis (Richard Pearce, 2003)
 |
| From http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51DMNNSFMKL._SL500_AA300_.jpg |
Le Concert (Radu Mihaileanu, 2009)
 |
| From http://images.allocine.fr/r_760_x/medias/nmedia/18/71/89/96/19184889.jpg |
I must admit I really wanted to like this. It’s not necessarily that bad especially when the interactions between actors Aleksei Guskov and Melanie Laurent, the latter recognisable to English viewers who have seen Quentin Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds (2009), take place. Also for a very sentimental film I couldn’t help but be partly swept away by it at the end, especially when the central classical piece performed is a great one from composer Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. The only problem is that its tonal shifts clunk so much you can see the seams. The comedy is usually in the registers of loud, and loud and wacky, and it has been a while - far more than in The Sky Crawlers - since a film has whacked me in the head with its political message with the subtlety of a 2X4. It’s a shame, as the only person under forty or fifty in the theatre when I watched this, that I couldn’t share as much enjoyment with it as everyone else did in the cinema. It turned out to be as ramshackle as its orchestra of misfits only no way near as talented.
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