Movie Loner

There’s been much chatter recently across the movie message boards and blogs about the decline or death of film criticism as we know it. The firings/lay-offs of movie critics at such esteemed print publications as The Village Voice, Newsday, and Newsweek in the last few months have sent waves of panic through the online and offline world. Cutbacks and consolidation are an accepted evil at today’s corporate owned media giants. Why pay a full-time salary and benefits to a critic when reviews can be siphoned out to any number of capable freelancers? That’s the corporate mentality, right or wrong. I personally think it’s disgusting, but my day job is in television news so I’ve witnessed this practice first-hand. It’s only going to get worse.

What does all this mean to movie bloggers like myself? Since I started this site a couple months back and have only tens of readers to satisfy, it means little. I would love to make heaps of money doing this but I’m under no illusions that I’ll ever earn a dime. I do this because I love writing about great films. I studied film theory in college and have been writing reviews for over ten years. My total earnings during this time wouldn’t be enough to purchase a plasma television, mostly because I didn’t pursue publication. However, when I did accept freelance work the best I could hope for was $50 a review. I applied to newspapers and magazines to be a critic but most didn’t employ full-time staff reviewers. Even back in 1995, they preferred to use freelancers and syndicates.

The truth is film criticism has never been a reasonable profession to pursue. The average person doesn’t read reviews, and they certainly don’t care about mis-en-scene or narrative deconstruction. With the exception of King Ebert and a select few, the layman wouldn’t recognize a film critic from a grocery butcher. Most people see movies they want to see. Bad reviews for the upcoming Iron Man won’t dissuade droves from lining up at the nearest multiplex. But I digress — I’m missing my own point.

Critics are necessary because they are only ones capable of championing smaller films into the overcrowded mainstream. Last year’s No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood are two prime examples. The former grossed $156,000,000 worldwide, the latter hauled in $75,000,000. Neither of these films had a fraction of the marketing budget of a Spiderman or Harry Potter. It was the dogged, perceptive praise of film critics that pushed these movies to box-office and Oscar success.

Lesser-known films need critics to help shepherd them out of obscurity. That’s why I started this blog. Too many great movies that go unnoticed deserve a larger audience. Of course, I’m not alone here; numerous other blogs/sites have been doing this much longer than me. They share my passion for undiscovered cinema and labor daily to get their message to the masses. It’s far from easy, and the competition for readers is fierce. My hope is to continue to reach new readers craving to discover the kind of films I enjoy. Would I love to do this for a living? Hell, yes! But I realize those chances are remote. Until then I’ll do what countless others do everyday. Trudge to my banal 9 to 5 job and dream of doing the one thing that will make me happy. See you in the next reel.

The Movie Loner

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It’s been a while since I’ve gone back in the day so I figured I’d go way back to 1929. I first saw Man with the Movie Camera in film school at Ithaca College. I remember being transfixed by the striking images and inventive shooting techniques. To this day I am still impressed. The man responsible for this seminal masterpiece is the great Russian documentarian Dziga Vertov. Vertov believed in what he called “film truth”, a methodology that strove to capture reality in a way that the human eye could not.

Man with the Movie Camera is not a documentary in the traditional sense. There is no specific subject like you’d see from Ken Burns or Michael Moore. Vertov’s subject is life itself, in point of fact the life of a city and its inhabitants. He begins with a woman rising in the morning. Then the city awakens; empty streets fill with people, cars, buses, wagons. The hustle and bustle of urban existence is filmed in its purest form, without artifice. To be fair some of the setups are clearly staged, but Vertov deftly maneuvers his lens across the city in such an innovative fashion that you can hardly quibble over his creative indulgences. Split-screens, double-exposures, slow motion, and skew angles gloriously pepper the screen throughout.

Tricks and treats aside, Vertov succinctly contrasts the influx of technology on society with the routine occurrences of human life. Wheels turn, gears grind, pistons pump while people work, marry, play and die. The camera travels everywhere, from dark, dank coalmines to sun-soaked beaches. Vertov provides an all-encompassing portrait of a city’s populace: the joy of marriage and childbirth parallels the pain of injury and loss. His camera rarely stops to rest, electing to remain in motion seizing the rhythm and energy of man and machine. The similarities between the two is impossible to ignore.

Vertov believed the camera possessed a unique power greater than that of the pen or instrument. He eschewed romanticized images in favor of precise ones free of manipulation. He regarded fictional drama as an “opiate of the masses”, one that reinforced man’s inherent weakness and fallibility. It was his great desire to witness man evolve from an imperfect being into a more exact machine. His experimental endeavors behind the lens attempted to bring truth to the people. Man with the Movie Camera is one such truth, not a universal truth, but rather a subjective truth from the brilliant eye of Dziga Vertov.

A scene from Man with the Movie Camera:

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We’re all searching for something. Maybe it’s our place in the world or perhaps a semblance of clarity. Whether 17 or 40, answers continuously elude us. And yet we press on in hopes of finding an identity, a sense of belonging. These themes and many others are at the heart of director Mike Mills’ Thumbsucker, an offbeat little film about letting go of what we know in order to discover our true selves.

At 17, Justin Cobb still sucks his thumb. This infantile habit adds strain to the relationship with his daydreaming mother (Tilda Swinton) and withdrawn father (Vincent D’Onofrio). It also negatively affects his interaction with girls causing him much embarrassment at school. An attempt to cure the oral fixation by his new-age orthodontist (Keanu Reeves) proves toilsome for Justin. His freakish behavior lands him in front of the principal. The school’s solution: diagnose Justin with ADHD and load him up with pills.

Justin’s medicinal routine has an immediate impact. Void of distraction he becomes more focused. His studies improve and his newfound thirst for knowledge gains him a spot on the debate team, where he flourishes in the face of competition. The period of stability doesn’t last; Justin exchanges legal drugs for pot and the opportunity to explore his sexuality with his longtime crush Rebecca. Tested by the pitfalls of adolescence, Justin finally comes to terms with his own identity and finds a place where he belongs.

The act of thumbsucking represents much in the movie. Justin’s unwillingness to extricate himself from his mother’s hold is obvious, but the thumb itself offers him a sort of protection, sanctity in an unsafe confusing world. When he stops the act, he panics, unsure of how to survive. Drugs provide only temporary relief. Dealing with his problems head on is the only real solution. Feeling weird and out-of-place is part of growing up. Medicating our youth only prolongs their maturity, placing them in a perpetual state of arrested development. Thumbsucker is a thought-provoking film worth seeing, especially if you’re a parent.

The trailer for Thumbsucker:

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Good stories make good movies. Makes sense, right? A simple concept that the moviemakers of the world should have grasped by now. Unfortunately, they haven’t. More and more I see awful stories being put to film. Hollywood isn’t the only culprit either. Indie and foreign cinema are also reaching for tired, unoriginal stories not worth telling. Well, here’s a good story from twenty years ago that was worth telling: Robert Redford’s The Milagro Beanfield War.

Frustrated, out-of-work Joe Mondragon decides to irrigate his father’s old beanfield. No big deal. Problem is corporate developer Ladd Devine plans to build a resort golf course smack dab in the middle of Joe’s field, as well as the rest of the small New Mexico town of Milagro. Joe’s agricultural endeavors send shockwaves all the way to the Governor’s office. With millions at stake the Governor dispatches tough lawman Kyril Montana (Christopher Walken) to mediate the situation. Meanwhile, local activists Ruby Archuleta and Charlie Bloom rally the townspeople against the land developers.

Despite mounting pressure, Joe continues to plant his beanfield. A line is drawn in Milagro between supporters and non-supporters. Ruby pens a petition to fight the impending displacement of her people. Montana and his cronies resort to scare tactics to halt Joe’s actions. Joe refuses to budge and the town residents arm themselves for battle against Ladd Devine’s corporate machine. An accidental shooting threatens the future of Milagro. It will take luck and a little bit of magic to save the tiny town.

The U.S. government versus Mexican people. Sound familiar? Redford’s simple but prescient movie is more relevant today than twenty years ago. Immigration issues aside, The Milagro Beanfield War is an enjoyable tale that neatly balances comedy and drama. Redford handles the serious subject of corporate greed with enchanting care, deftly illustrating the absurd lengths people go to for monetary gain. A solid cast is led by Chick Vennera who carries the film as unlikely martyr Joe Mondragon. Good stories make good movies. This is a perfect example.

A scene from The Milagro Beanfield War:

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Zodiac landed on many critics ‘Best of 2007′ lists so I wouldn’t exactly call it underrated. However, it was definitely overlooked by audiences and Oscar. I kick myself for not seeing it in the theater because my television screen doesn’t adequately capture the scope of this police procedural epic. Director David Fincher takes us on a complex, nightmarish journey to 1970’s San Francisco to tell the tale of America’s most notorious unsolved serial killer case.

1969, Vallejo, California: A young man and woman are shot repeatedly on lover’s lane. The boy survives, the girl is killed. Thus begins the Zodiac Killer’s 10+ year reign of terror on Northern California. Zodiac announces himself to the world through cryptic puzzle letters sent to the San Francisco Chronicle. The first principals to take an interest are crime-beat writer Paul Avery (Robert Downey, Jr.) and his cartoonist colleague Robert Graysmith (Jake Gyllenhaal) whose early attempts to crack the Zodiac’s code prove frustrating. A murdered cabbie puts Inspector Dave Toschi (Mark Ruffalo) and his partner William Armstrong on the case. Together, the press and police set about to track down the Zodiac.

The murders stop, but the letters keep coming. Avery’s dogged pursuit pushes him toward alcoholic burnout. Toschi and Armstrong follow the evidence, coming maddeningly close to catching the killer, only to be disappointed. The introspective Graysmith remains fascinated with Zodiac, unable to shake his need to unmask him. Years pass; Avery, Toschi and Armstrong separate themselves from the case. Standing alone is Graysmith. His obsession compels him to write a book in hopes of finally bringing the Zodiac killer to justice.

Zodiac isn’t about physical killings as much as it is about symbolic killings. The shootings and stabbings are indeed graphic, but more disturbing to watch is the murder of men’s souls. Avery, Toschi and Graysmith lose themselves amid a mountain of circumstantial evidence and dead ends. Their suffering is agonizing and lasting. Fincher has assembled one of the best casts I’ve seen in years. Chief among them is Ruffalo; I’ve always liked this guy, but his portrayal of the driven Dave Toschi is first-rate. Other than Alien 3, Fincher has yet to direct a bad movie. In fact, he gets better each time out.

The trailer for Zodiac:

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I’ve always found student films to be intriguing, especially those by directors who have “made” it in the biz. Here’s one from Rian Johnson, who directed Brick (see my review) a couple years back. Found it cruising around on YouTube. Ladies and gents, I present Evil Demon Golfball from Hell.

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I’ve written the praises of writer/director Lisa Cholodenko on these pages before. Her cultured debut High Art garnered attention for resurrecting the career of 80s brat-packer Ally Sheedy, but Cholodenko’s talented eye couldn’t be ignored. High Art explored the drug-addled world of New York City photography. In Laurel Canyon Cholodenko heads west to Los Angeles and delves into the laid-back party hard music industry.

Christian Bale plays Sam, a tightly-wound Harvard med school grad who lands a prestigious Psychiatry internship in LA. Joining him is his introverted girlfriend Alex (Kate Beckinsale), who is completing her dissertation on the reproductive habits of fruit flies. The couple moves in with Sam’s mother, Jane (Frances McDormand), a free-spirited record producer. Sam and Alex’s prim-n-proper lifestyle is soon disrupted by Jane and her latest boyfriend Ian’s band as they finish recording an album.

Jane’s rock-n-roll scene brings about temptation for both Sam and Alex. Sam takes a liking to the beautiful Sara, a fellow resident at the hospital. Alex’s protective shell begins to crack the more time she spends with Jane and Ian. Career obsessed Sam gets drunk and hangs with Sara. Studious Alex smokes pot and hangs with the band. The increased time apart puts a strain on Sam and Alex’s relationship. They let their guards down, allowing a little fun into their staid lives. However, desire can prove to be a costly emotion.

Laurel Canyon demonstrates there is a thin line between adulthood and childhood. Jane never really grew up. Sam grew up too soon. The tense mother/son dynamic is at the heart of the film. Bale is quite good as the son desperately seeking his mother’s approval. McDormand scores as usual portraying the mother whose love for her son is masked by her unwillingness to accept the parental role. Also worth noting is Alessandro Nivola; his turn as Casanova front-man Ian McKnight steals the movie. Lisa Cholodenko is a filmmaker to watch. She is currently shooting The Kids Are All Right which should be released early next year. I’ll be on the lookout.

The trailer for Laurel Canyon:

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Wong Kar Wai’s latest film hit U.S. theaters on Friday. It’s in limited release but look for it to go wider in the next few weeks. I can’t wait to see it.

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