tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70617864162993004392024-03-05T08:02:18.470-05:00The One Movie BlogThe one movie blog worth readingElla Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.comBlogger102125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-32887578301414313072015-05-21T13:44:00.000-04:002015-06-01T13:51:19.408-04:00"Scarface for Douchebags," or The Stockbroker as Tragicomic Antihero<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJZFyeFcCb3XBX2K_l97te594eE7cfU6pg8e_QMicEtfxUnieaIpBZ3TB1P5Uip4CoElzD8ZdQJQ6KSkOgft-SpHtXU9X1-YKRvEeuH39mWWjE1FRBReHIlLgGJMesa91PPQBM9eCiyBh/s1600/635229922073266669_Still+of+Leonardo+DiCaprio+in+The+Wolf+of+Wall+Street.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJZFyeFcCb3XBX2K_l97te594eE7cfU6pg8e_QMicEtfxUnieaIpBZ3TB1P5Uip4CoElzD8ZdQJQ6KSkOgft-SpHtXU9X1-YKRvEeuH39mWWjE1FRBReHIlLgGJMesa91PPQBM9eCiyBh/s640/635229922073266669_Still+of+Leonardo+DiCaprio+in+The+Wolf+of+Wall+Street.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“Now you’re not
naïve enough to think we’re living in a democracy are you, buddy? It’s a free
market and you’re a part of it” –Gordon Gekko, <i>Wall Street</i> (Oliver Stone, 1987)</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“At the end of
the game, you count up your money. That’s how you find out who's best. It's the
only way.” –Bert
Gordon, <i>The Hustler</i> (Robert Rossen,
1961)</span></span>
</div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Martin%20Scorsese">Martin Scorsese</a>’s <i>The Wolf of Wall Street</i> (2013)
starts with an ad for Stratton Oakmont; the commercial makes us believe the
brokerage firm is a golden American institution, a pillar of financial
stability, as traditional, trustworthy, and established as if the Mayflower
passengers had etched the very name into Plymouth Rock. Cut to the nightmarish
circus of a rollicking party on the trading floor of the company—not unlike
what we’ve imagined went on in Rome before the fall (all but the roller-skating
chimp and snorting coke off hookers, of course)—and then freeze-frame on the billionaire
brokers tossing a dwarf at a huge velcro target, literally and figuratively
abusing the Little Guy. Stratton Oakmont is America, its founder proudly
proclaims in the ad. How horrifying is it to realize that he just might be
right?</div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span><br />
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</div>
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The tale that follows the fictional commercial amounts to a nonstop
barrage of drug-fueled decadence adapted by <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1010540/?ref_=nv_sr_2">Terence Winter</a> from <a href="http://nymag.com/news/features/jordan-belfort-2013-12/">real-life</a>
stockbroking swindler <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=voGEzAv9kC8">Jordan Belfort</a>’s memoir. The book is a distant relative
of <a href="http://www.historyvshollywood.com/reelfaces/the-wolf-of-wall-street.php">the truth</a>, it’s been said, and the film is a distant relative of the book.
The humorous, <a href="http://uproxx.com/webculture/2014/01/honest-movie-posters-2014/#page/1">“honest” movie poster</a> of <i>The
Wolf of Wall Street</i> created by Uproxx titles the movie “Scarface for
Douchebags.” Although obviously meant as a joke, the film’s framing as a crime
movie points to the many parallels between Scorsese’s film and the gangster
genre, and raises the question, is Belfort even worse than the cinematic
mobsters the director seems to draw inspiration from?<b> </b>The filmmaker might be the best cinematic connoisseur of
charismatic sociopaths, and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/character/ch0002625/">Henry Hill</a> or <a href="http://www.imdb.com/character/ch0005484/">Nicky Santoro</a> ain’t got nothing on
<a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Leonardo%20DiCaprio">Leonardo DiCaprio</a>’s titular wolf. The<b><i>
</i></b>film’s brokers are avatars of an age of heedless
self-indulgence and greed, gangsters with fountain pens instead of guns,
slicing and dicing your bank account and putting your savings in a vise rather
than your head.</div>
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<br /></div>
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It has long been accepted that the mob has always been a cinematic
stand-in for the underside of American capitalism. As Frederic Jameson
eloquently puts it in “Reification and Utopia,” </div>
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“When indeed we
reflect on an organized conspiracy against the public, one which reaches into
every corner of our daily lives and our political structures to exercise a
wanton ecocidal and genocidal violence at the behest of distant decision-makers
and in the name of an abstract conception of profit—surely it is not about the
Mafia, but rather about American business itself that we are thinking, American
capitalism at its most systemized and computerized, dehumanized,
‘multinational’ and corporate form” (145).</div>
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<br /></div>
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Parts of this essay have appeared previously in <a href="http://www.electricfeast.com/review-of-the-wolf-of-wall-street-excessive-in-the-best-or-worst-way/">my review of <i>The Wolf of Wall Street</i></a>. </div>
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<a name='more'></a>The only difference between Belfort and Scarface, between the
stockbroker and the gangster of Hollywood cinema, is that in exploring the
exploits of the former, we have dropped any pretense that such actions occur
only in a marginalized, contained criminal environment, that they are the
aberration from the norm rather than the norm itself. This essay seeks to place
<i>The Wolf of Wall Street</i> within the
tradition of the gangster genre and study the consequences of transplanting the
tropes and criminality of the gangsters to the corporate environment. I situate
Scorsese’s film as a logical extension, the inevitable next step in the
evolution of the gangster genre as an increasingly overt critique of American
business, and explore the ideological function performed by the movie in the
context of the American myth of success. Finally, I end with a discussion of
and response to the controversy surrounding <i>The
Wolf of Wall Street</i>’s release, when it was met with countless accusations
of celebrating, rather than condemning, the behavior of its characters. I argue
that the film complicates and ultimately obviates such facile moral judgment of
either crime or capitalism, and that its most acerbic critique is aimed not at
Wall Street, but at the <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/American%20Dream">American Dream</a> itself.<br />
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<b>Genre and Ideology</b></div>
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Robin Wood starts his essay “<a href="http://xroads.virginia.edu/~drbr/wood.html">Ideology, Genre, Auteur</a>,” by defining the
American capitalist ideology, or the values and assumptions embodied and
reinforced by classical Hollywood cinema. From the celebration of success and
wealth to what Wood calls “the Rosebud syndrome,” the idea that money isn’t
everything and that money corrupts, to the ideal of marriage and family contrasted
to the image of the perfect man as unencumbered adventurer or the white picket
fence small-town life in opposition to the sophisticated city career, the
concepts Wood provides boil down to a list of contradictions. The ideology
presented, “far from being monolithic, is <i>inherently
</i>riddled with… unresolvable tensions” (719, emphasis in original). The
argument Wood puts forth is that the development of genres is rooted in just
this type of ideological contradictions, with each genre navigating a different
set of characteristics, a different facet, of the ideology. In this way,
Hollywood films work to reproduce and negotiate, challenge or support the
dominant ideas of society, a thought echoed by <a href="https://prelectur.stanford.edu/lecturers/jameson/">Frederic Jameson</a> in “<a href="http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&ved=0CB8QFjAA&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.english.ufl.edu%2Fmrg%2Freadings%2FJameson%2C%2520Reification%2520and%2520Utopia.pdf&ei=2JBrVZ_WLrS1sQT3hIDwBQ&usg=AFQjCNGKcyupsHwcDE_OfdSSouN02UnyNg&sig2=KSHvjvb3fmRtOpMZ25svcA&bvm=bv.94455598,d.cWc&cad=rja">Reification and Utopia</a>” when he writes, “All contemporary works of art—whether those of
high culture and modernism or mass culture and commercial culture—have as their
underlying impulse—albeit in what is often distorted and repressed, unconscious
form—our deepest fantasies about the nature of social life, both as we live it
now, and as we feel in our bones it ought rather to be lived” (147).</div>
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According to Jameson, “even the most degraded type of mass culture”
aims not only for empty distraction, entertainment or the creation of false
consciousness, but in fact accomplishes transformative work on social and
political anxieties and fantasies (141). As Robert Warshaw explains in his
seminal essay “<a href="http://davidlavery.net/courses/Gangster/warshow.htm">The Gangster as Tragic Hero</a>,” “even within the area of mass
culture there always exists a current of opposition seeking to express by
whatever means are available to it that sense of desperation and inevitable
failure which optimism itself helps to create” (129). Thus the twin drives of
Hollywood cinema are, on the one hand, the potential for wish-fulfilment
through an explicit or implied critique of the social order from which it
springs and, on the other hand, the necessity to control such negative or
critical, potentially damaging impulses. Although these goals at first seem
inconsistent, or even incompatible, Jameson explains that “anxiety and hope are
two faces of the same collective consciousness” (144). In this way, works of mass
entertainment revive and give expression to anxieties regarding the dominant
ideology, or feature behavior and ideas that directly challenge it, only to
manage and repress the anxieties and criticism. </div>
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Similarly, Robert Ray, in <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Certain-Tendency-Hollywood-Cinema-1930-1980/dp/0691101744/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1433112969&sr=8-1&keywords=a+certain+tendency+of+the+hollywood+cinema"><i>A Certain Tendency of the Hollywood Cinema</i></a>, sees the resolution of
incompatible values as the main function of popular American film, situating
his study at the intersection of different theories of overdetermination and
transformation in order to explain the evolution of Hollywood cinema. The three
schools of thought that converge in his study are Marxism (especially
Althusser’s work on ideology), myth study (following Levi-Strauss), and
psychoanalysis (Freud’s dream work and its notions of condensation and
displacement). Significant to my discussion of genre and ideology in <i>The Wolf of Wall Street</i> is Ray’s
engagement with Levi-Strauss’ idea that myths, as “transformations of basic
dilemmas and contradictions that in reality cannot be resolved,” enable “a
single cultural anxiety to assume different shapes in response to an audience’s
changing needs” (11-12). Starting from the premise that the myths—in the sense
of Roland Barthes’ “mythologies”—and artistic conventions employed by Hollywood
cinema do not exist in some politically neutral realm of archetypes or
aesthetics but instead are always socially produced and consumed, Ray argues
that genre films are always implicated in ideology (14-17). </div>
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“Genres are cultural metaphors and psychic mirrors,” Jack Shadoyan
writes in <i>Dreams and Dead Ends: American
Gangster/Crime Films</i> (x-xii). The steady flow of repetition and variation
within the genre system provides the myth with a “fixed dramatic pattern” which
can be recreated indefinitely by Hollywood cinema (Warshaw 129). American sound
cinema’s mythology occurs, according to Ray, only as a part of a regressing
chain of texts that stretch back from films to W.S. Hart westerns, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horatio_Alger_myth">Horatio Alger</a> stories, classic nineteen-century authors like Twain, Cooper, and
Melville, to frontier tales, Pilgrim narratives, to myths of the New World, to
Eden itself (56). </div>
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In a familiar reconciliatory pattern, American movies raise and then
appear to solve problems associated with the troubling incompatibility of
American myths, such as the opposition inherent in the myth of family, which
encourages contentment and permanence, and the myth of success, which
encourages ambition and mobility (Ray 56-57). The quintessential dichotomy in
American culture—and hence American cinema—is, for Ray, the opposition of individual
and community, and, implicitly, the outlaw hero and the official hero: </div>
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“Embodied in the
adventurer, explorer, gunfighter, wanderer, and loner, the outlaw hero stood
for that part of the American imagination valuing self-determination and
freedom from entanglements. By contrast, the official hero, normally portrayed
as a teacher, lawyer, politician, farmer, or family man, represented the
American belief in collective action, and the objective legal process that
superseded private notions of right and wrong” (59). </div>
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The value conflicts between these two types of protagonists permeate
our culture: tensions between selfishness and commitment to others, violation
and obedience, freedom and responsibility, promiscuity and fidelity, force and
persuasion (Rafter 200-01). The outlaw mythology manifests itself in a general
ambivalence about the law, the sum of society’s standards, as a collective,
impersonal ideology imposed from without. Out of this sense of the law’s
inadequacy bloomed a rich tradition of legends celebrating legal defiance, a
mythology which “transformed all outlaws into Robin Hoods, who ‘correct’
socially unjust laws (Jesse James, Bonnie and Clyde, John Wesley Hardin)” (Ray
61-62).</div>
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<i>The Wolf of Wall Street </i>embodies
this contradiction as fully as any gangster picture. A big, unruly bacchanal
with a sizeable, sinister smile on its lips, the film is both abashed <i>and</i>
unashamed, spectacle <i>and</i> cautionary tale, ode to <i>and</i> indictment
of dollars, depravity, and conspicuous consumption. As Nicole Rafter points out in <i>Shots in the Mirror: Crime Films and Society</i>,
the gangster genre has traditionally tried to make two arguments at once. On
one hand, it criticizes some aspect of society, often encouraging the audience
to “identify with a ‘good’ bad guy that challenges the system”; on the other
hand, it enables our identification with a figure who restores order at the
end, even if that means punishment or death of the bad guy. Thus, crime films
offer “contradictory sorts of satisfaction: pride in our ability to think
critically and root for the character who challenges authority [and] champions
the underdog; and pride in our maturity for backing the restoration of the
moral order…, enabling us to dwell, of only for an hour or two, in a state of
happy hypocrisy” (3). </div>
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<b>The Gangster Genre and the
American Dream</b></div>
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Crime films reflect fundamentally American contradictions about social,
economic, and political issues at the same time they shape the ways we think
about these issues. The durability of the gangster genre attests to its
cultural importance; it has survived because the issues it addresses have
always been central to the American experience, because its formal properties
have given them a clarity of outline and lucidity of exposition, and because it
has been infinitely flexible in adapting to shifting social and cultural
conditions. “Thus the importance of the gangster film, and the nature and
intensity of its emotional and aesthetic impact, cannot be measured in terms of
the place of the gangster himself or the importance of the problem of crime in
American life…. What matters is that the experience of the gangster <i>as an experience of art </i>is universal to
Americans” (Warshaw130, emphasis in original). Dealing with the underside of American
exceptionalism and individualism, the genre chronicles the dark underbelly of
the myth of success as ambition spills over into greed, and progress is defined
solely by capital accumulation. Of course the obsession with material
possession and physical comfort or the pursuit of individual improvement are
not solely American preoccupations. “After all,” Ellis Cashmore writes in <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Martin-Scorseses-America-Ellis-Cashmore/dp/0745645232/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1433113075&sr=8-1&keywords=martin+scorsese%27s+america"><i>Martin Scorsese’s America</i></a>, this country
“didn’t invent materialism, any more than it created the individual and vested
in him… a sense of purpose and desire for self-improvement. Yet, it was in
America that these were changed into unquestioned values, principles to guide a
population’s conduct and to reward as beneficial…. It’s almost as if Americans
are under obligation not just to be successful, but to exhibit that success”
(5-8). In one film after another, Scorsese has captured the “swarming egotism
of America and the rewards and punishments offered by attempts to either escape
or embrace it,” and no other genre has fit his vision of America better than
the gangster film (Cashmore 3).</div>
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The gangster is a paradigm of the American dream, the “archetypal
American dreamer whose actions and behavior involve a living off of the dream
common to most everyone who exists in the particular configurations and
contradictions of American society, a dream in conflict [with] the society”
(Shadoian 2). The typical gangster plot lets viewers off the hook at the exact
moment of the criminal hero’s demise—we can savor the dangers of the streets <i>and</i> the safety of home, the excitement
of violence and the pleasures of peace. This resolution of value conflicts is
what Warshaw discusses when he writes that “the final bullet thrusts [the
gangster] back, makes him, after all, a failure…. At bottom, the gangster is
doomed because he is under pressure to succeed, not because the means he
employs are unlawful” (Warshaw 133). Like the gangster, we are all under
pressure to succeed. Everyone wants to be a winner of some kind. The gangster
must ultimately be a failure, not only to absolve viewers who have identified
with his unlawful success, but, more importantly, because we must repress what
he represents, that pessimistic note of the celebration of success, the dark
figure hovering at the edge of our consciousness. The gangster’s death is a
rude awakening from our American dream, the character expressing “that part of
the American psyche which rejects the qualities and demands of modern life,
which rejects ‘Americanism’ itself” (Warshaw 130).</div>
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The main ideological function of the gangster film is to situate this
dilemma in the context of crime rather than business, to ensure us—albeit not
always convincingly—that “the deterioration of daily life in the United States
today is an ethical rather than an economic matter, connected, not with profit,
but rather ‘merely’ with dishonesty and with some omnipresent moral corruption
whose ultimate mythic source lies in the pure Evil of the Mafiosi themselves”
(Jameson 146). Classic mob narratives thus project a simple solution to
complicated social contradictions: corruption, dishonesty, and crime can be
dealt with swiftly and surely by the official organs of law-and-order. Of
course this message is not as easily conveyed as Hollywood at first hoped, and
something of the reverse happened—audiences saw the critique of society
inherent in these films and began identifying with and rooting for the
criminals.</div>
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The three most vivid and influential gangster films of the 1930s, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5J1-TqBKsGo"><i>Little Caesar</i></a> (1930), <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7QvIGCe8UOE"><i>Public Enemy</i></a> (1931), and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oClFiO7LMkc"><i>Scarface</i></a> (1932), set the pattern for the
genre: an ambitious, ruthless—but not entirely unsympathetic—criminal rises to
the top only to die violently. He and his cronies sport double-breasted suits,
fedoras, and Tommy guns; they talk tough, scorn dames, and are infinitely more
interesting than the bland G-men who gun them down. Despite the studio-imposed
anti-crime message of these films, and no matter how unlawful and violent they
are, the gangsters are seen as tragic heroes, “desperate men in a desperate
hour, victims of a society that stresses wealth and status while failing to
provide working-class men the means to achieve these ends” (Todd 27). Identification
with the criminals was made easy in the context of Depression-era America,
where many of the movie-going public shared the economic disadvantages and
dreams of wealth of the protagonists. “Walking a populist tightrope, these
films spoke to Americans struggling to make ends meet while simultaneously
attacking crime and the government’s ability to control it” (Todd 27). Influencing the genre thereafter, these early
iterations of it ensured that audiences would associate criminality with
economic hardship and portray the gangsters as underdogs.</div>
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This, of course, is the Utopian function of the gangster genre, a result
in direct contrast to the intended ideological effect. The mob had come to
represent hope—the hope of existing outside the confining rules of society. This
effect of gangster films on audiences has remained almost unchanged throughout
its evolution, prompting Roger Ebert to write, in the opening of his review of
Scorsese’s <i>Casino</i> (1995), “If the
Mafia didn’t exist, it would be necessary to invent it. </div>
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The same is true of
Las Vegas. There is a universal need to believe in an outfit that exists
outside the rules and can get things done. There’s a related need for a place
where the rules are suspended, where there’s no day or night, where everything
has a price, where if you’re lucky, you go home a millionaire. Of course,
people who go to Vegas lose money, and people who deal with the mob, regret it.
But hope is what we’re talking about. Neither the mob nor Vegas could exist if
most people weren’t optimists.” </div>
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As the genre evolved over the second half of the twentieth century, its
form and conventions became increasingly refined as it adapted to changing
social and cultural factors. During the Hollywood Renaissance and due in large
part to the waning of the studio system and the Production Code, crime films once
again flooded the silver screen, with American youth readier than ever before
to idealize heroic rebels. If Arthur Penn’s <i>Bonnie
and Clyde</i> (1967) revived and re-envisioned the gangster genre, Francis Ford
Coppola’s <i>The Godfather</i> (1972)
restored it to a position of primacy not only in Hollywood but also in
America’s mythic imagination. The story follows the changing of the guard in
the Corleone family from a more orderly and traditional rule, which abided by a
strict set of codes, to one less chivalrous, more violent and embittered. The
protagonists were, of course, outlaws, but the movie encouraged viewers to
identify with them, to regard their refusal to pursue ordinary careers as the
metaphorical equivalent of the counterculture’s rejection of the establishment
(Ray 328-31). By using subjective point of view and isolating the heroes in a
moral vacuum in which they could appear as forces of justice, Coppola insured
the audience’s sympathy.</div>
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To the image of outlaw independence and uncompromising individualism,
the director added the motif of the family, which, “within the movie’s closed
world… resembled a romanticized, self-supporting commune” (Ray 333). In the
first film, the family represents a fantasy message, a collective unit that
becomes “an object of Utopian longing, if not Utopian envy” (Jameson 146). Like
a surrogate state, the family is the source of the Corleone’s morality,
security, stability, and sense of purpose. As Coppola advances through his
trilogy, however, the family fails morally, degenerating until it serves only
one purpose: ensuring its own survival. As the Utopian appeal of the family
decreases, the social critique is heightened. At first Coppola confined his
ideological criticism to tacit thematic analogies between the Corleones and
capitalist America, but the business metaphor that is the basis of the first <i>Part I</i> ceases to be a disguised in <i>The Godfather: Part II </i>(1974), instead
becoming foregrounded in itself. “Thus
the Mafia material, which in the first film served as a substitute for
business, now slowly transforms itself into the overt thematics of business
itself, just as ‘in reality’ the need for the cover of legitimate investments
ends up turning the Mafiosi into real businessmen” (Jameson 147).</div>
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The lines between mob crime and
American capitalism were thus increasingly blurred, and since the 1970s
an alternative tradition developed in Hollywood that refused the easy solutions
of the past, a tradition that Scorsese has embodied and shaped as much as any
other New Hollywood filmmaker. Even in gangster films suffused with high
spirits and good humor such as Scorsese’s <i>Goodfellas</i>
(1990) and <i>Casino</i> there is a nagging
recognition of the inevitability of confusion, crime, and suffering. A brief
comparison of the two versions of <i>Scarface</i>
(1932 and 1983) highlights the shift in attitude. Paul Muni’s Tony Camonte in
Hawks’ film remains attractive despite his primitivism and violence. He is
bigger than life, awesome in his greed and boldness. Al Pacino’s Tony Montana
in <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Un-American-Psycho-Brian-Political-Invisible/dp/1841505544">Brian De Palma</a>’s remake is more difficult to admire. A drug lord who begins
as a petty criminal shipped out of Cuba in 1980, he seems smaller than life,
dwarfed by the crowded first scenes and the huge detention center to which he
is initially assigned. Both Tonys are risk-takers, both make a fortune off
contraband, and both marry a blond trophy wife. The differences between the two
characters (and the two movies) are, however, more noticeable than the
similarities. The incest theme, suppressed in Hawks’ film, in the newer version
emerges full-blown, and the second Tony’s wife (played by Michelle Pfeiffer),
anorexic and addicted to cocaine, is self-destructive and frightening, even
more so than Sharon Stone’s Ginger in Scorsese’s <i>Casino</i>. Where the first movie begins like a thriller, cool, slick,
and mysterious, the second starts with a sweaty, shifty-eyed Tony lying to
immigration officers. Reviewing De Palma’s <i>Scarface</i>
when it was released, Vincent Canby <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/movie/review?res=9B0DE3D71F39F93AA35751C1A965948260">notes yet another point of divergence</a> from
the original—Pacino’s Tony ignores a crucial rule of the underworld: Don’t get
high on your own supply. “This,” he argues, “is a major switch on the work of
[Ben] Hecht [the screenwriter of the original film], who might have guffawed at
the suggestion that Al Capone, Chicago’s most powerful Prohibition gangster,
might have been done in by alcoholism.” By the end of De Palma’s film, Montana,
incapacitated by and smeared in his own drugs, is “close to the brink of
parody,” Canby continues. It’s like watching a Macbeth who is unaware that his
pants have split.”</div>
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Contemporary, post-New-Hollywood gangster movies, then, make a powerful
statement not only concerning their heroes, but also the nature of heroism in
the modern world. While early twentieth-century immigrants could use crime as a
shortcut to the American Dream, today the dream itself has become empty, and
crime has lost its appeal. This is the environment in which <i>Goodfellas </i>is released in 1990. A
comparison to De Palma’s <i>Scarface </i>makes
Scorsese seem almost nostalgic, if not for an older, gentler time (that never
was), than at least for an older, gentler kind of gangster movie, one in which
there was still a place—albeit increasingly rare—for tradition and honor. But
even wiseguys Henry Hill (Ray Liotta), Jimmy “the Gent” Conway (Robert De Niro)
and especially Tommy DeVito (Joe Pesci) are a far cry from the heroism and tragedy
of Tony Camonte or Little Caesar. Scorsese even mires us in the quotidian as
Hill spends the entire third act of the film cooking spaghetti sauce with one
hand and trying to move a cocaine shipment with the other.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs_F9RjPh-JvB8Jl9Uk_q-9ExGu3QCVwb82jv61x6DL5nwbpFDPYS2c64aIBj2FARRdPdRYEn4H0O6PxoEgqTUNvmdDUF_a-nuz9Sll-DjyWvj_eR0MrsJ9cGysKjrtQEULJT_ipiYJ-cH/s1600/A1mLv0Xy50L._SL1500_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs_F9RjPh-JvB8Jl9Uk_q-9ExGu3QCVwb82jv61x6DL5nwbpFDPYS2c64aIBj2FARRdPdRYEn4H0O6PxoEgqTUNvmdDUF_a-nuz9Sll-DjyWvj_eR0MrsJ9cGysKjrtQEULJT_ipiYJ-cH/s320/A1mLv0Xy50L._SL1500_.jpg" width="320" /></a>Scorsese and other filmmakers working within the gangster genre in the
1990s were accused of glamorizing the mob by devoting much of the films’ narratives
to decadent, hedonistic lifestyles filled with drugs, booze, money, and fame,
but many of these films turned traditional by the end, when the consequences of
living too fast or too hard led to the same tragic place: the morgue or, if one
was lucky, prison—or, if one was luckier still, the witness protection program.
The critique of American capitalism and consumerism is even more apparent in <i>Goodfellas </i>than in the <i>Godfather</i> series. Scorsese’s gangsters don’t
live the ethnic holism of the Corleones, with their sturdy links to Sicilian
traditions. Instead, “these hoods reflect the breakdown of the family order and
the infiltration of yuppie nihilism” (Yaquinto 169). At the time of its
release, the movie was already being recognized as less of a gangster melodrama
than, as David Ehrenstein wrote in his book about Scorsese, “an indictment of
Reagan-Bush America, where brute force and conspicuous consumption have
completely subsumed identity and ethics.” David Ansen of <i>Newsweek</i> agreed, writing that Scorsese’s “wiseguys and their wives
and mistresses are an upside-down parody of untrammeled consumerism” (cited in
Yaquinto 172). </div>
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The director takes it a step further for his next gangster story, <i>Casino</i>, by tracking Las Vegas’ sad
demise from mob-controlled funhouse to corporate sandlot, turning the city into
a metaphor for a crass, decaying America besieged by corporate takeovers and a
loss of honor—even among mobsters. “The big corporations took over,” Ace
Rothstein (Robert De Niro) observes in the closing moments of the movie.
“Today, it works like Disneyland.” This change mirrors the loss of the Utopian
potential that draws people to the genre in the first place. As Ebert writes in
his review, “in a sense, people need to believe a town like Vegas is run by
guys like Ace and Nicky. </div>
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In a place that
breaks the rules, maybe you can break some, too. For those with the gambler
mentality, it’s actually less reassuring to know that giant corporations,
financed by bonds and run by accountants, operate the Vegas machine. They know
all the odds, and the house always wins. With Ace in charge, who knows what
might happen?”</div>
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<b><i>The Wolf of Wall Street </i>as Ideological Criticism</b></div>
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<i>The Wolf of Wall Street</i> thus
can be seen as a logical next step in the evolution of the gangster genre; the
links between the mob and American capitalism made explicit in Scorsese’s
earlier films can now be developed into a narrative that actually takes place
in the business environment. As Ellis Cashmore writes, “crime, for Scorsese, is
a caricature of power, an exaggerated version of what law-abiding people do en
route to becoming powerful. Actions and omissions that constitute offenses and
are punishable by law are little different from the everyday behavior of
powerholders” (Cashmore 9). So it would make perfect sense for the director to
move from chronicling the offenses of the mob to looking directly at the corporate
powerholders. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA2pE1jjwMtAYPTaWU1ZsRKdAYeWx795abKfV-voNevXUaHdQhe0VGo6boDXOCR7f-meDPdhGF2Fu_cOlqCe7NTaBTxCruUvSdqyCaN-XRAHG0Yeo7Orq2SXEMT4BTw_XCzRwzrkhHZa0O/s1600/Wolf_Of_Wall_Street.jpg.CROP.rectangle3-large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA2pE1jjwMtAYPTaWU1ZsRKdAYeWx795abKfV-voNevXUaHdQhe0VGo6boDXOCR7f-meDPdhGF2Fu_cOlqCe7NTaBTxCruUvSdqyCaN-XRAHG0Yeo7Orq2SXEMT4BTw_XCzRwzrkhHZa0O/s320/Wolf_Of_Wall_Street.jpg.CROP.rectangle3-large.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Taking its cue from (chiefly Scorsese’s own) gangster pictures, the movie shows how the
working-class, Queens-raised Belfort made his way from humble origins to wealth
and notoriety. The opening montage presents all of the character’s possessions
in quick succession, as he enthusiastically catalogues them in voiceover: in
addition to a blonde, buxom trophy wife (Margot Robbie) and “two perfect kids,”
Belfort owns a 170-foot yacht, helicopter, private jet, six cars, three horses,
two vacation homes, and a mansion another DiCaprio character, Jay <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-great-gatsby-2013.html">Gatsby</a>, might
find gaudy. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PF_iorX_MAw">Greed is not only good</a>, as it was to <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0094291/?ref_=fn_al_tt_2"><i>Wall Street</i></a>’s (1987) Gordon
Gekko, but, for Belfort, greed is also fun as hell. “Enough of this shit will
make you invincible,” he tells us, “able to conquer the world, and eviscerate
your enemies.” He continues, “Money doesn’t just buy you a better life, better
food, better cars, better pussy. It also makes you a better person.” As Belfort
endeavors to explain what he means, Scorsese cuts to an image that perhaps
describes the character better than all that have come before: a woman’s
backside fills the screen’s foreground; we are to understand, if it wasn’t already
clear, that the stockbroker is a giant ass. Although the narrative places the
character in the sympathetic position of an underdog and an outsider as he
tries and fails to establish himself at a blue-chip brokerage firm, working his
way up the corporate ladder from the level of “pond scum,” as his first boss
calls him, sympathy and identification do not come easily. After he gets laid
off in the market crash, the character reinvents himself on Long Island, taking
over a penny stock boiler room where he sticks out like an Armani three-piece
suit on a Walmart clearance rack. It’s not long before he grows tired of
“selling garbage to garbage men” and starts targeting the deep pockets of the
one percent, slapping the fake blueblood name Stratton Oakmont on his own firm
(started in the back room of a gas station while smoking crack), and raising
its value a few thousandfold,</div>
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It’s practically impossible to find a Scorsese film in which the
American Dream doesn’t have a presence—usually a perverse presence—but The Wolf
of Wall Street, more than any other of the director’s works, is about living
the dream. <i>Goodfellas’ </i>famous “Ever
since I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster” here has been replaced
with “I always wanted to get rich.” While Henry Hill saw being a part of the
mob as “even better than being president of the United States,” Belfort has no
ambition beyond material gain<b>. </b>A
sense of belonging was what Hill looked for in his association with the
neighborhood gangsters as a teenager; these men were respected and admired, an
elite class bound by close ties of honor and tradition, a family of sorts. The
would-be goodfella was accepted under the tutelage of Paulie Cicero (Paul
Sorvino), the local mafia boss, a figure that is fatherly, honorable, and even
caring. He was depicted, notes writer Douglas Borde as “one of those
old-fashioned, anachronistic noble elder gangsters… [who] refuses to have
anything to do with drug dealing” (cited in Yaquinto 169). In stark <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aSn1g-6h1OQ">contrast</a>,
Belfort gets the grinning, gleeful, coked-out, humming Mephistopheles played by
<a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Matthew%20McConaughey">Matthew McConaughey</a>. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi63-DZMQxngxxPdXbNZCAQnMzwAP_6pa7vMFdTTO1gjHZWKG2raBxO-T1eeTk8sZ9tVa2MEkAUckw32Juprx_hOCkk2BRWGm1udhscIzfLw_dXvAgF5RhQJNcWawcjG7adi08yQIG8unWJ/s1600/download-30.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi63-DZMQxngxxPdXbNZCAQnMzwAP_6pa7vMFdTTO1gjHZWKG2raBxO-T1eeTk8sZ9tVa2MEkAUckw32Juprx_hOCkk2BRWGm1udhscIzfLw_dXvAgF5RhQJNcWawcjG7adi08yQIG8unWJ/s400/download-30.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
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In Belfort’s first day on the job, the experienced broker explains why
it is not in their interest to <i>ever</i> let the client make money. The
“number one rule on Wall Street” is that “nobody knows if a stock is gonna go
up, down, sideways, or in fucking circles, least of all stockbrokers. It’s all
a fugazi.” Belfort corrects, “Fugayzi. It’s a fake,” he explains. “Fugayzi,
fugazi, it’s a whazy, it’s a woozy, it’s fairy dust. It doesn’t exist. It’s
never landed. It’s not on the elemental chart. It’s not fucking real.” If the
client asks to cash in on his investments, that would make it real; the broker thus
should only line his own pockets and keep the client churning his portfolio, so
the commissions keep rolling in. After the above speech, McConnaghey’s
character hums Belfort a tune and the latter joins in. Later, there’s a callback
to that tune, hummed by the entire Stratton Oakmont mob. They’ve absorbed Wall
Street’s ethos; like the ever-present whores at company gatherings, clients are
there to be screwed and sent on their way. In fact, the drumming, thumping and
rumble singing becomes the anthem of Belfort’s firm, and why not? The almost
feral, tribal tune suggests the wild war cry of barbarians on constant,
ruthless rampage. </div>
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DiCaprio’s Robin Hood-in-reverse assembles a team of merry men that are
as far from established stockbrokers (or other representatives of corporate
America) as humanly possible. Petty thugs, drug dealers, and high-school
dropouts one and all, Belfort’s devoted minions are Robbie “Pinhead” Feinberg
(Brian Sacca), Alden “Sea Otter” Kupferberg (Henry Zebrowski), the
dreadfully toupeed Nicky “Rugrat” Koskoff (P.J. Byrne), “The Depraved Chinaman”
Chester Ming (Kenneth Choi), and Brad Bodnick (Shane Bernthal), a neighborhood
hothead known as the Quaalude King of Bayside. “Give them to me young, hungry,
and stupid,” Belfort professes, “and in no time I’ll make them rich.” This crew
might not be as dangerously violent—or concerned with codes of honor and
tradition—as the filmmaker’s former cinematic male camraderies, but the
familiar testosterone brotherhood is pure Scorsese. Stratton Oakmont’s
enforcer is Belfort’s own galvanic, short-fused dad (Rob Reiner), who screams
expletives about expenditures and debauchery even as he debates the appropriate
amount of pubic hair on strippers and prostitutes—all bought and paid for with
company cash. </div>
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It is impossible to categorize
Scorsese’s film as a straightforward career movie because we are not given any
information about the actual career of its protagonist. Every time
Belfort, breaking the fourth wall, starts explaining his Darwinian financial
wheeling and dealing, he stops mid-sentence to interject something along the
lines of “but you don’t really want to hear all of this,” and resume the
activities we’re supposedly interested in: the booze, the broads, and all those
pills and powder. This is another
characteristic which brings the film much closer in tone to the gangster genre.
As Warshaw points out, “the gangster’s activity is actually a form of rational
enterprise…. But this rationality is usually no more than a vague background….
So his activity becomes a kind of pure criminality: he hurts people” (131). </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9nniCuYNxMLsgVK9dAj6XBLqsFfCEObj4cfgBPzllOxIqcAPTCKU3YOfwuXRQCaORdz3JIFsnAUOv2ec2TlU2yvl5E8aaqxxODWzRhOXxMFkWBmhiHfvIRxWKpyOCphnUphgAvEY48a9b/s1600/THE-WOLF-OF-WALL-STREET.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9nniCuYNxMLsgVK9dAj6XBLqsFfCEObj4cfgBPzllOxIqcAPTCKU3YOfwuXRQCaORdz3JIFsnAUOv2ec2TlU2yvl5E8aaqxxODWzRhOXxMFkWBmhiHfvIRxWKpyOCphnUphgAvEY48a9b/s320/THE-WOLF-OF-WALL-STREET.jpg" width="320" /></a>Writing about<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Goodfellas-Robert-Niro/dp/B0016YBFZ8/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1433113332&sr=8-1&keywords=goodfellas"> <i>Goodfellas</i></a>,
Drew Todd explains,<i> </i>“as with the
classical gangster film, which followed the ethnic gangster’s rise to riches
and power but ended in moralizing tragedy, the question lingers: Do these
movies intend to preach at us, or are they simply interested in showing us
hedonistic people at work and play?” (57). The same question applies even more
readily to <i>The Wolf of Wall Street</i>.
Scorsese has made an excessive film about excess, about the compulsive
appetites of loathsome men, and the director’s own appetite for his subjects
and their sleazy pleasures seems bottomless. The film<i> </i>plays out like the
jittery, fever-pitch, paranoid last thirty minutes of <i>Goodfellas</i>
stretched to three hours; <i>The Wolf of
Wall Street</i> is in the thick of things, all the time, and things happen all
the damn time: stock fraud and money laundering, taping wads of cash to women’s
bodies and sending them on trips to and from Switzerland to deposit the
millions (which gives Jean Dujardin a lot to do with his crocodile smile),
nearly crashed helicopters and nearly sunk ships, snorting off prostitutes’
backsides and blow jobs behind the wheel of a Ferrari, slow-motion Quaalude
binges and sped-up coke orgies, drugged-out, frenzied montages to music,
elaborate tracking shots, fast dollies and faster whip-pans.</div>
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While I will not engage in an
in-depth discourse analysis, it is difficult not to note the varied and
vociferous reactions to the film. While one Hollywood veteran approached
Scorsese to shout “Shame on you!” after an Academy screening, Christina
McDowell, the daughter of Tom Prousalis, a business associate of Belfort, attacked
Scorsese and DiCaprio in an <a href="http://www.laweekly.com/news/an-open-letter-to-the-makers-of-the-wolf-of-wall-street-and-the-wolf-himself-4255219">open letter</a> published by <a href="http://www.laweekly.com/"><i>LA Weekly</i></a> for glamorizing a lifestyle of “fun sexcapades and coke
binges.” She went on to call the movie “a reckless attempt at continuing to
pretend that these sorts of schemes are entertaining,” The letter emerged as it
was revealed that Belfort is set to benefit from the newfound notoriety heaped
upon him by Scorsese’s film with a new reality-TV show (Cohen). This prompted
McDowell to argue that the director has aligned himself “with an accomplished
criminal, a guy who still hasn’t made full restitution to his victims,
exacerbating our national obsession with wealth and status and glorifying greed
and psychopathic behavior.” The film’s star was quick to defend the movie,
stating in an interview, “ultimately I think if anyone watches this movie, at
the end of <i>Wolf of Wall Street</i>,
they’re going to see that we’re not at all condoning this behavior” (Tapley).</div>
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It is the viewer’s choice whether to read this all as celebration or as
condemnation; my feelings stray towards the latter. The film might be vulgar
and voyeuristic, but it is not—as <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/film/2013/dec/30/wolf-of-wall-street-christina-mcdowell-letter-martin-scorsese?CMP=ema_861&commentpage=1">accused</a>—amoral. Scorsese and his movie make
it pretty clear that they find this behavior disgusting and the characters
grotesque and degenerate. Like well-dressed animals in luxurious, lushly
decorated terrariums, the characters are filmed in distorting angles, through
warping lenses and often from disorienting perspectives. In <i>A Certain Tendency</i>, Ray notes how disruptive
or dissident variations at the level of both content and form have a chance of
subverting a movie’s intended ideological function; excess, whether thematic or
stylistic, will often create a distancing effect that allows for a critical
attitude in viewers (18). Scorsese’s own criticism of his characters lies
chiefly in his style, which often alienates the audience form what is going on
onscreen. Extreme overhead shots, oblique angles, dizzying close-ups,
distorting wide-angle and fishbowl lenses make the characters look grotesque
throughout the film. The distorted, stuttery step-printing in Belfort’s first
helicopter ride (and near-crash) make it difficult for us to imagine he’s
actually having fun, or to want to engage in such behavior ourselves. The
exaggerated slow motion when Donnie Azoff (Jonah Hill, the Joe Pesci to
DiCaprio’s De Niro) gets a business idea, played over mock-heroic opera music,
is not dramatic as much as it is farcical; the humor is heightened especially
when he starts slurring “Steve Madden” as he frantically hits a table with his shoe.
A God’s eye view of Belfort’s ravaged hotel suite after his Vegas bachelor
party makes the characters look not only unhinged, but also objectifies them
and draws our attention to how small and utterly unheroic they are.</div>
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At the level of content, Scorsese’s implied critique is perhaps more
obvious but occurs more rarely. The high—or low—point of the film is a Quaalude
bender that spirals into comic madness. Experiencing a delayed reaction to
decades-old drugs, Belfort and Azoff skip the tingle, slur, drool, and amnesia
stages and discover a whole new stage: cerebral palsy. A blubbering, freaking
out Azoff stuffs his face and passes out. Belfort, almost fully paralyzed
during a panicked phone call about the federal investigation and his money, pulls
himself to his car one agonizing inch at a time, a painfully slow and hilarious
race against time to stop Azoff from talking shop over a tapped phone. The
childishness of such behavior is made explicit when Belfort, in a bird’s eye
view again, falls backward and starts crawling, “like [his daughter] Skylar,”
only to exclaim, “Fuck! The kid makes it look so easy.” The sequence culminates
in an epic, explosively funny battle over the kitchen telephone between two men
with completely obliterated motor skills.</div>
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<br /></div>
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But there is a sick sense of pleasure to be gleaned from the alpha male
posturing, profit-making, and howling. The film is so acerbic you almost leave
with a sour taste in your mouth, a scathing satire unremittingly cynical and
critical, but it’s also honest. If there was no appeal to this kind of
behavior, no one would ever engage in it; if the “good life” wasn’t alluring
and the system didn’t allow for so many clear getaways, there would be no
Jordan Belforts. The movie fascinates as much as it disgusts; by the end we’re
fascinated by our own disgust and disgusted by our fascination, but there are
grander ideas at stake here than Wall Street corruption. As Shadoian writes,
“the [gangster] genre speaks to not merely our fascination/repulsion with
aspects of our socioeconomic milieu that we prefer to shut our eyes to, but
also to our fascination/repulsion with our most haunting depths of ourselves….
to deal [these films] means facing those contradictions in ourselves that we
evade by our adherence to social norms and to appeasing self- and national
concepts” (2). At its caustic core, <i>The Wolf of Wall Street</i> is a movie
about addiction, not to drugs, power, or money, so much as to a way of life, to
all the empty, glittering promises of the American Dream, false promises we
eagerly, if silently, agree on, a collective handshake on fiction-made-truth.</div>
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In a <a href="http://variety.com/2013/film/news/wolf-of-wall-street-is-this-generations-scarface-1201016119/">passionate defense of the film</a>, David Cohen of <i><a href="http://variety.com/">Variety</a> </i>compares Scorsese’s movie to <i>Scarface</i>—Hawks, not De Palma, writing,
“maybe <i>The Wolf of Wall Street</i> would have benefited from some Old
Hollywood-style meddling, because there seems to be some confusion among
viewers and critics about something that seems to me as clear as the titles of <i>Scarface</i>: </div>
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Every incident in
this picture is the reproduction of an actual occurrence, and the purpose of
this picture is to demand of the government: ‘What are you going to do about
it?’ The government is your government. What are YOU going to do about it?”</div>
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<br /></div>
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Indeed, a number of key scenes suggest Scorsese was trying to sound the
alarm about America’s passivity in the face of Wall Street’s depredations. When
Belfort shows his low-rent hucksters how to hook a rich “whale” for their
pump-and-dump schemes, they snicker and laugh while the mark, Kevin, is on
speaker. Belfort flips Kevin the bird with both fingers while seducing him over
the phone. Scorsese puts his camera right behind the phone. We’re looking at
Belfort and his brokers as if they’re pitching <i>us</i>, laughing at <i>us</i>,
flipping <i>us</i> the bird. And so they are. America is the whale. We are
Wall Street’s marks. </div>
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<i>Goodfellas</i>, Scorsese’s finest plunge into the low life, ends on
Henry Hill’s teasingly ambiguous smile. In <i>The Wolf of Wall Street</i>’s
last moments, Scorsese turns his gaze on Belfort’s audience, suggesting it is
our own greed—or at least naiveté—that feeds his. The reason guys like Belfort
exist is because we, their enablers, are as addicted as they are. Like Belfort,
we want more, more, more, never getting enough of anything, We get a contact
high from following the stockbrokers, entrepreneurs, con artists, CEOs’ (or
whatever they might be) exports, we egg them on and rejoice when they skirt the
rules that restrict the rest of us. We turn them into disreputable folk heroes,
reveling in and living vicariously through their success, letting them
represent us even as they’re robbing us blind. The addiction, ours and
theirs, is to the thrill of the theft, of the narrow escapes, the lies they
tell, and the lives they ruin. The problem is not that we might want to be like
Belfort, but that we already are. Horrifying as it is, Scorsese’s moral
message boils down to the implication with which I started this essay. As
Belfort himself says in an impassioned speech to the brokers at his firm, “This
is Ellis Island here, people. I don’t care who you are, where you’re from,
whether your relatives came here on the fucking Mayflower or on an inner tube
from Haiti. This right here is the land of opportunity. Stratton Oakmont is
America!”</div>
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<b>Works
Cited</b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Canby, Vincent. “Al Pacino Stars in <i>Scarface</i>.”
<i>New York Times</i>. 9 Dec. 1983. Web. 21
Apr.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 0.5in;">
2015. <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/movie/review?res=9B0DE3D71F39F93AA35751C1A965948260">http://www.nytimes.com/movie/review?res=9B0DE3D71F39F93AA35751C1A965948260</a>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Cashmore, Ellis. <i>Martin
Scorsese’s America</i>. Cambridge, UK and Malden, MA: Polity, 2009.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Print.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Child, Ben. “<i>The Wolf of Wall
Street</i> Criticized for ‘Glorifying Psycopathic Behavior.’” <i>The</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 0.5in;">
<i>Guardian.</i> 30 Dec. 2013. Web. 24 Apr. 2015. <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/film/2013/dec/30/wolf-of-wall-street-christina-mcdowell-letter-martin-scorsese?CMP=ema_861&commentpage=1">http://www.theguardian.com/film/2013/dec/30/wolf-of-wall-street-christina-mcdowell-letter-martin-scorsese?CMP=ema_861&commentpage=1</a>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Cohen, David S. “Does <i>Wolf of
Wall Street</i> Glorify Criminals? No.” <i>Variety</i>.
31 Dec. 2013. Web.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 0.5in;">
24 Apr. 2015.
<a href="http://variety.com/2013/film/news/wolf-of-wall-street-is-this-generations-scarface-1201016119/">http://variety.com/2013/film/news/wolf-of-wall-street-is-this-generations-scarface-1201016119/</a>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Drew, Todd. “The History of Crime Films.” <i>Shots in the Mirror: Crime Films and Society</i>. 2<sup>nd</sup></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
ed. Oxford and New York: Oxford Univeristy Press,
2006. Print.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Ebert, Roger. “Casino.” <i>Rogerebert.com</i>.<i> </i>22 Nov. 1995. Web. 22 Apr. 2015. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<a href="http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/casino-1995">http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/casino-1995</a>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Ehrenstein, David. <i>The Scorsese Picture:
The Art and Life of Martin Scorsese</i>. New York: Carol</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Publishing Group, 1992.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Jameson, Frederic. “Reification and Utopia in Mass Culture.” <i>Social Text</i>. 1979: 130-148.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i>JSTOR Journals</i>. Web. 8 March 2015.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
McDowell, Christina. “An Open Letter to the Makers of <i>The Wolf of Wall Street</i>, and the Wolf</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 0.5in;">
Himself.” <i>LA Weekly.</i> 26 Dec. 2013. Web. 24 Apr.
2015. <a href="http://www.laweekly.com/news/an-open-letter-to-the-makers-of-the-wolf-of-wall-street-and-the-wolf-himself-4255219">http://www.laweekly.com/news/an-open-letter-to-the-makers-of-the-wolf-of-wall-street-and-the-wolf-himself-4255219</a>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Pond, Steve. “‘Shame on You!’ Says Academy Member to Martin Scorsese at
<i>Wolf of Wall</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 0.5in;">
<i>Street</i> Screening. <i>The Wrap</i>.
22 Dec. 2013. Web. 24 Apr. 2015. <a href="http://www.thewrap.com/Martin-Scorsese-Wolf-of-Wall-Street-Academy-Screening-Shame-on-You/">http://www.thewrap.com/Martin-Scorsese-Wolf-of-Wall-Street-Academy-Screening-Shame-on-You/</a>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Rafter, Nicole. <i>Shots in the
Mirror: Crime Films and Society</i>. 2<sup>nd</sup> ed. Oxford and New York:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Oxford Univeristy Press, 2006. Print.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Ray, Robert B. <i>A Certain Tendency
of the Hollywood Cinema, 1930-1980</i>. Princeton, NJ:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Princeton University Pres, 1985. Print.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Shadoyan, Jack. <i>Dreams and Dead
Ends: American Gangster/Crime Films</i>. Cambridge, Mass.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
and London: The MIT Press, 1977.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Tapley, Kristopher. “Leonardo DiCaprio Says <i>Wolf of Wall Street</i> Critics ‘Missed the Boat</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 0.5in;">
Entirely.’” <i>Hitfix.com</i>. 30 Dec. 2013. Web. 24 Apr.
2015. <a href="http://www.hitfix.com/in-contention/leonardo-dicaprio-says-wolf-of-wall-street-critics-missed-the-boat-entirely#fSyh0w3hDgwyC0HA.99">http://www.hitfix.com/in-contention/leonardo-dicaprio-says-wolf-of-wall-street-critics-missed-the-boat-entirely#fSyh0w3hDgwyC0HA.99</a>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Warshow, Robert. “The Gangster as Tragic Hero.” <i>The Immediate Experience</i>. By Warshaw.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1974: 127-33. Print.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Wood, Robin. “Ideology, Genre, Auteur.” <i>Film Theory and Criticism: Introductory Readings</i>. 6<sup>th</sup></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
ed. New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2004. Print.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Yaquinto, Marilyn. <i>Pump ’Em Full
of Lead: A Look at Gangsters on Film</i>. New York: Twayne</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 0.5in;">
Publishers and
London: Prentice Hall International, 1998. Twayne’s Filmmakers Series. Ed.
Frank Beaver. </div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Please check out <a href="http://www.electricfeast.com/" target="_blank">The Electric Feast</a> for more movie, music, television, technology, gaming and culture reviews.</span></span>Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-41893386805992307412015-05-14T21:23:00.000-04:002015-05-24T21:28:54.103-04:00When the Indie Mogul Met the Art-House Blockbuster: How the Weinstein Co. Framed "Snowpiercer"'s U.S. Release<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In the spring of 2012, a few months after filming <i>The Avengers</i> and just before reprising his role as Captain America
for a third time, Chris Evans played the rebel who leads a ragtag, rag-wearing
lower-class community in a revolt against their decadent overseers in <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0094435/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Bong Joon-Ho</a>’s
English-language debut <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nX5PwfEMBM0">Snowpiercer</a> </i>(released
in the U.S. in 2014). For the film’s South Korean director, the challenge was finding
the right clothes and camera angles to hide the actor’s <a href="http://marvel.com/movies">Marvel</a> superhero physique in order to
assure his credibility as the malnourished leader of the revolutionaries. This
problem provides an apt metaphor for <a href="http://weinsteinco.com/">the
Weinstein Co.</a>’s marketing and distribution of the movie. Analyzing the
Weinsteins’ involvement with and public statements about Bong’s film<span> </span>and its intended audience in trade
publications, I will argue that the distribution company used a discourse of
distinction built on aesthetic value judgments in order to rationalize and justify
decisions based on financial considerations. Their challenge was finding the
right language to disguise the sci-fi action blockbuster as a small indie movie
better fitted for online and on demand distribution rather than a wide
theatrical release. </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></div>
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: small;">As <a href="http://rtf.utexas.edu/faculty/alisa-perren">Alisa Perren</a>
notes in “Rethinking Distribution for the Future of Media Industries Studies,”
media industries researchers who do not have access to Hollywood professionals
must often rely on public sources such as newspapers, magazines, and trade
publications, which forces them to structure their work to account for
discourse and spin (168). I have chosen to rely on trade publication articles
and interviews for this essay not only because of issues of access or because <i>Snowpiercer</i>’s unusual distribution plan
has yielded such extensive coverage in journalistic outlets, but also specifically
because I want to analyze the cultural dimensions of such discourse and spin. </span><br />
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Media scholar <a href="http://www.tft.ucla.edu/2011/09/faculty-john-caldwell/">John Caldwell</a>
considers the artifacts circulated among production communities “deep texts…[,]
plays of cultural competence and critical-theoretical engagement [which] stand
simultaneously as corporate strategies, as forms of cultural and economic
capital integral to media professional communities, and as the means by which
contemporary media industries work to rationalize their operations” (“Critical
Industrial Practice” 102-07). Trade texts, for Caldwell, are a fundamental
component in the way the media industry makes sense of itself to itself. <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Production-Culture-Industrial-Reflexivity-Television/dp/0822341115/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1432514491&sr=8-1&keywords=caldwell+production+culture">Elsewhere</a>,
he writes, </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">“The worlds of
film/video workers are organized and rationalized around an extensive set of
secondary symbolic texts, trade stories, pedagogical rituals, and technologies.
All of these rituals and artifacts serve to manage and inflect the social
relations and labor activities, even as they [have] enabled each craft and
association to collectively imagine itself as a community.” (<i>Production Cultures </i>341).</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In other words, stories that film professionals tell about their labor
play a direct role in reproducing the conditions in which that labor occurs,
thus making those conditions imaginable within and as a production community. </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Derek Johnson, analyzing the discourse surrounding the brief
independence of Marvel Studios’ production in an age of media convergence,
writes how “for such reorganization to make sense to established Hollywood
production cultures, the industrial shifts implied by Marvel’s independence had
to be managed on a self-reflexive, discursive level.. [t]hrough specific trade
narratives that constructed Marvel’s cinematic independence as commonsense”
(2). I will argue that the trade stories that TWC executives and employers have
deployed to legitimate their distribution strategies on <i>Snowpiercer </i>similarly worked to mediate and manage the company’s
release plan and disguise a (highly profitable) marketing ploy as common sense
by bolstering a specific taste hierarchy. While only a few years ago such a
limited theatrical release (initially only eight theaters in New York and Los
Angeles), accompanied a mere two weeks later by digital distribution might have
signaled a failure, today such strategies are all part of a plan to increase
profits for niche films.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgondu2bt5wRP_9n8lFFev5S4ne3O0mgvu8DPJbca_3WVywDmCxct-_ayq36Oy-Y05P7U5r7-GY66UxIrP-1YMtanDobw4w7DKHsMjVa9LBRn9Is7gWMTYQF5fzjOixPM0yC9X9ohFROKGP/s1600/snowpiercer-pic-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgondu2bt5wRP_9n8lFFev5S4ne3O0mgvu8DPJbca_3WVywDmCxct-_ayq36Oy-Y05P7U5r7-GY66UxIrP-1YMtanDobw4w7DKHsMjVa9LBRn9Is7gWMTYQF5fzjOixPM0yC9X9ohFROKGP/s400/snowpiercer-pic-3.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The deep texts of trade stories, therefore, offer a unique tool for
examining how the discourse designating <i>Snowpiercer</i>
as an “independent” or “niche” product was used to support, legitimize, and
give industrial and cultural meaning to a strategic course of action motivated
by bottom-line business considerations. Yannis Tzioumakis has noted how the
label independent is an important industrial category that has more to do with
finance than formal qualities; sometimes it is “the only way of marketing
esoteric or idiosyncratic films to an increasingly large audience” (282). As
Dana Harris pragmatically put it in <i><a href="http://variety.com/2003/film/news/h-wood-renews-niche-pitch-1117884169/">Variety</a></i>
over a decade ago—and <a href="http://variety.com/2003/film/news/h-wood-renews-niche-pitch-1117884169/">her
comments</a> have become only more applicable with time,</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">“In a product-saturated
marketplace, you don’t sell tickets on the strength of a director’s <i>oeuvre</i>
or a stellar review in the <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/">New York Times</a>. These days, ya gotta have a niche.
The studios’ current game plan for making money in the art business combines
opportunism with a yogic flexibility. Specialty divisions can mean slick urban
comedies like <i>Brown Sugar</i> or <i>Deliver Us From Eva</i>. Or unabashed
crowd-pleasers like <i>Bend It Like Beckham</i>.
Or Hong Kong action movies, or even foreign-lingo romance. To put it another
way, “niche” is a nice way of saying ‘anything we can sell.’”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It is a widely accepted fact that “Hollywood hates a movie that it
can’t easily pigeonhole,” so when the Weinsteins bought the distribution rights
to Bong’s movie, they weren’t exactly sure whether they were dealing with a
mainstream dystopian epic or a specialty, art-house production aimed at a niche
audience, which caused an almost two-year delay in its North American release (Maio
183). When the movie finally did come out, through the Weinsteins’ boutique
distribution arm <a href="http://radiustwc.com/">RADiUS</a>, critics were similarly
confused, a typical review calling <i>Snowpiercer</i>
“an exciting, Michael Bay-sized blockbuster that also was infused with an
indie-film aesthetic, a feel for true human intimacy, and a sense of the tragic,”
and a film “as much about philosophical reflections of an age of social and
moral collapse as it is about blockbuster-friendly, CGI-enhanced sequences” (Derakhshani,
Tsui). Such contradictions in terms perfectly befit “indie mogul” Harvey
Weinstein, the company’s co-chief, who seems to have invented the “independent
blockbuster” as head of “mini-major” <a href="http://www.miramax.com/">Miramax</a>
in the 1980s and ’90s. Surprisingly, <i>Snowpiercer</i>’s
star-studded cast, action setpieces, and post-apocalyptic futurism were
significantly downplayed in trade stories, in favor of the movie’s more
“artistic,” “subversive,” “eccentric,” “quirky,” and, of course, “independent”
qualities. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.gkindiefilm.com/">Geoff King</a> situates his
understanding of “independence” in Hollywood at the intersection of individual
films’ industrial conditions of production, formal/aesthetic strategies, and
relationship to broader cultural, political, or ideological landscape. He sees
two of the defining characteristics of the independent sector as (1) the
willingness to complicate and transgress genre while still mobilizing familiar
conventions to some extent (165-195); and (2) the expression of alternative
social perspectives which question or critique dominant values (197-201). It
comes as no surprise that the traits emphasized in trade articles about <i>Snowpiercer</i> were those that “derail[ed]
both cinematic expectations and the <strong><span style="font-weight: normal;">status</span></strong><b> </b><strong><span style="font-weight: normal;">quo</span></strong>”
(Carlton), “drip[ped] with political messages about class warfare” (Vetter); <span> </span>“brilliantly add[ed] politics and social
realism onto a genre picture” (Lyttelton); and “veered away from mainstream
narrative tropes” (Tsui). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">What clearly emerges from this type of discourse is the fact that, regardless
of the economic realities of the industry, the term “independent” is often used
to describe not a mode of production, financing or distribution, as much as a
form of thinking and cultural appreciation, “suggestive of a romantic vision of
filmic productivity” and of a certain guarantee of quality (Berra 9). Whereas
in the past the designation simply defined works that were not affiliated with
the major studios, today the label carries with it a cultural significance that
implies a certain taste and a certain target audience. During the summer that
also saw the release of yet another Michael Bay extravaganza, the label independent
which was attached to <i>Snowpiercer </i>to
distinguish it from the mindless, crass commercialism and harmless
entertainment of the major studio blockbusters is a signifier of prestige and
status. <i>Variety</i>’s Justin Chang
directly compared the “marvelously imaginative” <i>Snowpiercer</i> to the “brain dead” <i>Transformers
4</i>, concluding that Bong’s film was “provocative… serious-minded foreign
fare,” the “work of an auteur” with “multicultural aspirations,” “artistic
heft,” and “genuine moral vision” </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgax_cXELKIlkmnL7Ff7WCv7IWkD0cGhYRrCs-KJJaohwEixHxJeQvz3PUdKzf3Tw6GtBrK5L6k4M3Xn0LApOCLptH-_qTA1fWajXuQYEEHvyT8tG68Fu6uC0ktE2Ql8c2JxBfO2HI_4-f-/s1600/snowpiercer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgax_cXELKIlkmnL7Ff7WCv7IWkD0cGhYRrCs-KJJaohwEixHxJeQvz3PUdKzf3Tw6GtBrK5L6k4M3Xn0LApOCLptH-_qTA1fWajXuQYEEHvyT8tG68Fu6uC0ktE2Ql8c2JxBfO2HI_4-f-/s320/snowpiercer.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pierre_Bourdieu">Pierre Bourdieu</a>,
in his work on cultural production and taste cultures, establishes a theory of
the cultural field which might prove useful to the discussion of <i>Snowpiercer</i> within the culture of
distinction set up by the discourse surrounding TWC’s distribution of the film.
“There is an economy of cultural goods,” Bourdieu writes in the introduction to
<i><a href="http://monoskop.org/images/e/e0/Pierre_Bourdieu_Distinction_A_Social_Critique_of_the_Judgement_of_Taste_1984.pdf">Distinction:
A Social Critique of the Judgment of Taste</a></i>, “but it has a specific
logic” (1). He sees the cultural field as “the site of the antagonistic
coexistence of two modes of production and circulation obeying inverse logics,”
split up between the field of restricted production, where profit is not the
ultimate objective, and large-scale production, which is a purely capitalist
enterprise. The anti-economy side of the spectrum, where values and practices
correspond to the discourse of art for art’s sake, he calls the “autonomous”
pole, while the “heteronomous” pole seeks economic dominance (<i><a href="https://bildfilosofi.files.wordpress.com/2009/12/therulesofart.pdf">The
Rules of Art</a></i> 142). This economic aim means that the cultural work that
is conducted within the field of large-scale production is commonly of less
artistic value—or at least is perceived as such—than that which is conducted
within the field of restricted production. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The lines between restricted and large-scale production are
increasingly blurred in today’s film industry, with producers and distributors
in the independent sector finding themselves operating as “mini-majors,”
struggling to balance cultural credibility with the hard bottom line principles
of Hollywood studios. Cinema autonomous of the field of economic power is what
Bourdieu would refer to as “the field of cultural production, where the only
audience aimed at is other producers,” meaning that the economic failure of a
work is a sign of its artistic success (<i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Field-Cultural-Production-Pierre-Bourdieu/dp/0231082878/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1432514811&sr=1-1&keywords=bourdieu+the+field+of+cultural+production">The
Field of Cultural Production</a> </i>39). This is the image of independent
filmmakers “with stories to tell and axes to grind, working against the grain
of corporate-sponsored cinema to bring their vision to fruition” (Berra 16). Of
course such a cinema cannot exist within a system made up of studios,
distributors, exhibitors, and promotional media that filmmakers must rely on
for their work to reach the public. As Berra writes, “no film-maker or producer
is truly ‘independent’ in that they cannot exist separately from the field of
economic power” (15). Thus, no film can be truly “independent,” but the label,
although misleading, works to increase the symbolic capital of films designated
as such, regardless that the aim of their creators is ultimately financial
profit. Marketing a film as “independent” serves the purpose of cultural
legitimization, even while commercial considerations gain more and more weight
in the art cinema niche, as De Valck points out in his article on international
film festivals (76-78). </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Bourdieu argues for an inverse relationship between symbolic capital
and commercial capital in the realm of art. Writing about the literary field at
the end of the nineteenth century, he notes how the “hierarchy among genres
(and authors) according to specific criteria of peer judgement is almost
exactly the inverse of the hierarchy according to commercial success” (<i>The Rules of Art </i>114). Prestige, then,
is placed in direct opposition to economic profit, and reaching a “broad
audience [le grand public] … means, as the pejorative connotations of the
expression indicate, exposing oneself to the discredit attached to commercial
success” (<i>The Rules of Art</i> 116). </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLUJsuhx5pP5XQ5vyWb9YKW65xQpfyDkGzrDahRQtYpa58TEWROCtATOh4cFElG0r4dLNQCQMiY0IkeI2slkQ59PhYJ-LTakWkiufZZL1khaL3EP_VCCW8w88HsQjG7dCR31xdrdyWf2wt/s1600/la-170742-et-0224-oscar-weinstein-3-als-jpg-20131216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLUJsuhx5pP5XQ5vyWb9YKW65xQpfyDkGzrDahRQtYpa58TEWROCtATOh4cFElG0r4dLNQCQMiY0IkeI2slkQ59PhYJ-LTakWkiufZZL1khaL3EP_VCCW8w88HsQjG7dCR31xdrdyWf2wt/s320/la-170742-et-0224-oscar-weinstein-3-als-jpg-20131216.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The same form of thinking holds sway over art-house and independent
films, although the financial realities might not support it. Tzioumakis points
out how independent films are seen by the public as examples of “cinematic art
that dealt with real issues and refused to compromise aesthetically,
thematically, and ideologically in exchange for a higher box office take” (282).
This perception, however unfounded, has helped the Weinstein brothers
throughout their entire career. While at Miramax, Harvey used the independent
label that signified a certain level of quality to the cinephile set while he was
actually turning the company into an internationally recognized brand that
became shorthand for middlebrow escapism. In <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Indie-Inc-Miramax-Transformation-Hollywood/dp/0292754353/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1432514914&sr=1-1&keywords=indie%2C+inc.">Indie,
Inc.: Miramax and the Transformation of Hollywood in the 1990s</a></i>, Perren
points out that the company was the most publicized and profitable distributor
of low-budget, critically acclaimed indie films that expanded beyond a core
art-house crowd to attract a wider audience. Bourdieu claims that there are
three distinct markets: </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">“Firstly, there is
the specific principle of legitimacy, i.e., the recognition granted by the set
of producers who produce for other producers… i.e., by the autonomous,
self-sufficient world of ‘art for art’s sake’…. Secondly, there is the
principle of legitimacy corresponding to the ‘bourgeois’ taste and to the
consecration bestowed by the dominant fractions of the dominant class….
Finally, there is the principle of legitimacy which advocates call ‘popular,’
i.e., the consecration bestowed by the choice of ordinary consumers, the ‘mass
audience.’ (<i>The Field of Cultural
Production</i> 50-51). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It would appear that Miramax operated within the first of the three
markets in its pre-Disney incarnation, specializing in highbrow product for an
elite community of artists and critics. However, the company succeeded by
taking works from that community and promoting them towards the second, and
even third, of Bourdieu’s markets. Under Disney, Miramax developed into the
preeminent contemporary specialty or indie division, distributing
niche-oriented films and exploiting discourses of independence that appealed to
those possessing greater cultural capital. As Perren notes, </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">“The company
broadened the audience of these movies by portraying them as what Hollywood has
to offer <i>and more</i>: full of sex,
violence, and risky content. This marketing sleight of hand, in which the films
were at once similar and different from Hollywood, helped Miramax carve out an
often financially lucrative and aesthetically viable space for independent
cinema…” (“Sex, Lies and Marketing” 37).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Over the past 25 years, the Weinstein brothers have been honing their
marketing mix at Miramax and then TWC to target specific audiences, but to do
so in a manner that appeared tasteful and unobtrusive. As Bourdieu observes, “The
art trader cannot serve his ‘discovery’ unless he applies all his conviction,
which rules out ‘sordidly commercial’ maneuvers, manipulation and the ‘hard
sell,’ in favor of the softer, more discreet forms of ‘public relations’ (which
are themselves a highly euphemized form of publicity)…” (<i>The Field of Cultural Production</i> 76). Of course the niche market is
not opposed to marketing, but cannot be reached with the blanket promotion
practiced by the bigger studios. Instead, the Weinsteins take advantage of
their brand name and the values that name is supposed to represent—“quality,
class, culture, at once traditional and progressive” and promote their films
through culturally legitimized forums such as film festivals, using discourse
that sets up a culture of distinction (Berra 163). </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCet2IXqq4Jau9e_BCLSYAkv_ehsAsYpJPmnOlK2XCvHm86kaJeCq_ylye11XBiSLwiSaZdMiNP0cE1sym6xMrGxW2IK_WZ-rXieLk596MP5x6x6Ki-2c0vQYtnkcmTaCfY1ZzTvIZU7vk/s1600/Bong-Joon-Ho-Snowpiercer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCet2IXqq4Jau9e_BCLSYAkv_ehsAsYpJPmnOlK2XCvHm86kaJeCq_ylye11XBiSLwiSaZdMiNP0cE1sym6xMrGxW2IK_WZ-rXieLk596MP5x6x6Ki-2c0vQYtnkcmTaCfY1ZzTvIZU7vk/s320/Bong-Joon-Ho-Snowpiercer.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In November 2012, when TWC bought the rights to <i>Snowpiercer</i>, Harvey framed the film as a blockbuster, telling <i><a href="http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/">The
Hollywood Reporter</a></i>, “With a stellar cast led by Chris Evans, we look
forward to bringing this action-packed thriller to audiences worldwide”
(Siegel, “Weinstein Co. Nabs Bong Joon Ho’s ‘Snowpiercer’”).<span> </span>Before long, however, the movie was deemed
“too long, too violent and too weird for an American audience” (Doyle).
According to some reports, the company feared “the film wouldn’t be understood
by audiences in Iowa and Oklahoma” (Doyle). Harvey, nicknamed “Scissorhands”
for his tendency to tamper with directors’ final cuts, demanded that <i>Snowpiercer</i> was re-edited into a
shorter, mass-audience-friendly version, that some of the foreign language
parts got cut, and that a voiceover was added at the end to reduce the
ambiguity. Bong refused to make any changes to the film, and news of the
dispute soon went public, culminating in a November 2013 incident at the Museum
of Modern Art that <a href="http://pagesix.com/2013/11/06/harvey-weinstein-holding-up-foreign-hits-release/">landed
on Page Six</a> of the <i><a href="http://nypost.com/">New York Post</a></i>. As soon as word got out
that Weinstein wasn’t supporting the director’s cut—and had tested a
version with twenty minutes chopped out—fans as well as the filmmaker expressed
dismay. As one reviewer put it, “To alter [the film] would be something close
to vandalism” (Vineyard). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Seeing that he wasn’t going to get his way, Harvey, “ever the spin
doctor,” started supporting the original version of the movie while arguing
against theatrical release (Mottram 78). “When I saw the… very artistic
flourishes that we all love,” he told <i><a href="http://www.indiewire.com/">Indiewire</a> </i>in July 2014, “I thought,
‘It’s not for a wide audience, it’s a smart movie for a smarter audience’”
(Ebiri). This provided the perfect justification to release the film on demand,
while flattering potential viewers and framing their interest in the film as a
mark of good taste. As Bourdieu writes, “To the socially recognized hierarchy
of the arts, and within each of them, of genres, schools or periods,
corresponds a social hierarchy of consumers. This predisposes tastes to
function as markers of ‘class’” (<i>Distinction</i>
1).</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Taking up this discourse of distinction, audience studies have shown
that the crowd that frequents independent-sector fare is made up of mostly
young, educated, “inherently and eternally fashionable” selective viewers with
disposable income who are looking for entertainment of a socially and
intellectually provocative nature (Berra 181-185). Perhaps not incidentally,
the above demographic coincides with that of audiences who are likely to watch
films on demand, through subscription services like <a href="http://www.netflix.com/WiHome">Netflix</a>, set-top boxes (<a href="https://www.roku.com/">Roku</a>, <a href="https://www.apple.com/appletv/">Apple
TV</a>, <a href="https://www.google.com/chrome/devices/chromecast/">Google
Chromecast</a> or a cable provider), or digital platforms like <a href="https://www.apple.com/itunes/">iTunes</a> (Sciullo). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Digital platforms have been especially adept at linking audiences
across the world and facilitating the flow of foreign products into the Western
market as consumers are turning to the internet and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Video_on_demand">video on demand</a> (VOD)
services for cultural consumption that transcends borders and features a
diverse range of international offerings or niche content (Iordanova 5-12). <span> </span>Stuart Cunningham and Jon Silver note how
Hollywood’s “increasingly well-resourced release strategies for its
blockbusters consistently roadblock screens for films from the rest of the
world” (34). Technology helps level the playing field, making the sharing,
watching, and talking about films more easily accessible to larger and larger
groups of people, especially viewers who position themselves in opposition to
“the Hollywood hegemony and the chauvinism of the classic art-house canon” by seeking
out indie or less commercial films online (Slater).</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijQ5_xx-30w1NS4IAn91ChbXS2HzbtkJxydWh4mxdyb73a1QTC6mXscgyj2xEFXkYJnd7R21wgWR5d5NTiHQIzPOW4O-t3F3AeSr97XSdqBmnk5FXRCuOHX2RJfhww_Z2P911qkoff_OPQ/s1600/snowpiercer_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijQ5_xx-30w1NS4IAn91ChbXS2HzbtkJxydWh4mxdyb73a1QTC6mXscgyj2xEFXkYJnd7R21wgWR5d5NTiHQIzPOW4O-t3F3AeSr97XSdqBmnk5FXRCuOHX2RJfhww_Z2P911qkoff_OPQ/s320/snowpiercer_2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">With the growth of VOD, the available services, platforms and content
have become more varied, allowing viewers more choice in what they watch, when,
and on what device. As Sharon Strover and William Moner write, “from the
traditional television set to pocket-size mobile devices to laptop computers,
people now have a surfeit of choices available for entertainment services”
(234). Digital options offer immediacy and ease of access, multiple screen
capabilities, and increased portability on mobile devices. <span> </span>While historically, film studios would release
films in theater first, where they would stay exclusively for a few months
before making their way onto the auxiliary markets of DVD, Blu-ray, on demand,
pay-per-view, and finally, television networks, this “inflexible succession of
hierarchically ordered windows of exhibition and formats” has been “radically
undermined by new technologies” (Iordanova 1).As far back as 2004 Amanda Lotz
had pointed out that industry practices were adapting in order to accommodate
the growth of the home entertainment sector, with strategies to increase the
availability of content on multiple platforms becoming more common. “The
rhetoric of industry leaders,” she wrote, “shifted from advocating efforts to
prevent change to accepting the inevitability of industrial adjustment” (cited
in Nelson 63). In the decade since, Hollywood has become increasingly open to
the idea of digital distribution as the future of the home-video business and
has started experimenting with release windows to provide greater access and
added value to media content.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As soon as the decision to release <i>Snowpiercer</i>
on VOD was reached, TWC quickly turned to emphasizing the consumer benefits of
digital platforms by framing the distribution model in a discourse of openness,
choice, control, and ease of access. Tom Quinn, co-president of TWC and a
veteran of <a href="http://www.magpictures.com/">Magnolia Pictures</a>, told <i><a href="http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&ved=0CCsQFjAA&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.ew.com%2F&ei=IHNiVYezF_b_sASvxoHwDQ&usg=AFQjCNEAqDr1dWK4gwoNhoHyj0IIlX6_OQ&sig2=gRybQtJaSfwAMmpZ2N7hEQ&bvm=bv.93990622,d.cWc">Entertainment
Weekly</a></i> that the company’s philosophy does not mean thinking literally
big: “This is completely uncharted territory but it’s 100 percent within the
consumer’s control how you want to see this film,” says Quinn. “That’s what our
goal is at RADiUS: A screen is a screen is a screen and it’s your choice where
you see it” (Bahr). Executives at other companies chimed in to show their support.
Mark Cuban, whose media holdings include Magnolia, said, “Getting people into a
theater is hard and expensive. Getting people to hit a button on their remote
is a lot easier” (Sciullo).</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOH2oqGXinCmbyNVOWmK3AiKIbHhmuQoDm_hnmTYmFUli15OW5IezTE-fl-pylC_d3z-Iwm3ziABzffyef8276ouV-pWOWmKn0WJecqa8H4ypIpVsKwRenkKzr_B1rdWvQmgc__RtaJYS_/s1600/margincall_loc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOH2oqGXinCmbyNVOWmK3AiKIbHhmuQoDm_hnmTYmFUli15OW5IezTE-fl-pylC_d3z-Iwm3ziABzffyef8276ouV-pWOWmKn0WJecqa8H4ypIpVsKwRenkKzr_B1rdWvQmgc__RtaJYS_/s320/margincall_loc.jpg" width="216" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A look at the numbers makes it clear that TWC’s unusual distribution
plan was motivated by economics just as much as, if not more than, the desire
to make the film easily available to its intended audience. Starting in the
mid-2000 and into the early 2010s, studios have been shrinking theatrical
windows in an attempt to maximize revenue streams and enhance total returns. So
far, there is no indication that a single timing strategy would work for all
films, especially when factoring in specific box offices and seasonality of
particular titles. As Elissa Nelson notes, the type of film (e.g. blockbuster,
independent) can help determine release order (72). <span> </span>“Situations that involve indie, documentary,
foreign and other niche films actively embrace the new digital and on-line
tools available,” which offers direct access to core audiences at the same time
that it reduces marketing and exhibition costs (Nelson 72). In the independent
sector distributors have been more willing to experiment with simultaneous
theatrical and VOD release. </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In the U.S., <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Steven%20Soderbergh">Steven
Soderbergh</a>’s <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=paIHksP9Ia8">Bubble</a></i> collapsed the
theatrical window in 2005 when it was released in theaters, on DVD and cable at
the same time. In 2011, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001885/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Lars von Trier</a>’s <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wzD0U841LRM">Melancholia</a></i>
profitably premiered on VOD before its theatrical release (65). But it was <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1170855/?ref_=nv_sr_1">J.C. Chandor</a>’s <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=margin+call+trailer">Margin
Call</a></i> (also 2011) which became the poster child for early VOD success.
Shot in only 17 days with a $3 million budget by a first-time
director-producer, it was released in theaters and on demand on the same day
and ended up earning an estimated $19.5 million (Sciullo). In contrast, <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2VT2apoX90o">Children of Men</a></i> and <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CWX34ShfcsE">Drive</a></i><span>,</span> the “two movies in recent memory”
that, according to Quinn, fit [<i>Snowpircer</i>’s]
review profile almost exactly<span>”</span> disappointed
at the U.S. box office, proving that great reviews, action elements, and star
power don’t always guarantee success in theaters (<span>Siegel, </span>“Radius Co-Chiefs on VOD Stretegy”<span>). “As good as [<i>Snowpiercer</i>] is, it
would have been a tough sell at the box office,” says Gitesh Pandya, a
researcher of <a href="http://www.boxofficeguru.com/">Box Office Guru</a>.
“They have tremendous competition from other summer action movies,” he
continues (Ebiri). </span></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Following<i> Snowpiercer</i>’s
overwhelming success TWC is taking steps to create a new language around
digital platform revenues. The film<i> </i>was
TWC’s highest-earning VOD release, skyrocketing to the top of iTunes and other
media platforms in less than a day after launching, earning almost double what
it did in theaters over its first weekend on demand, and an impressive $3.8
million over its first two weeks. The financial benefits, however, do not stop
here. Whereas studios typically end up taking home 50 percent of a film’s box
office, the VOD split is closer to 75 percent, which means distributors can
earn a bigger percentage of every dollar spent without having to spend as much
on advertising (Pomerantz). “From a layman’s perspective these numbers are
possibly not that interesting,” Quinn admitted. “But from an industry
perspective, it’s a game changer” (Bahr). “I think this kind of release pattern
is the future of film distribution but not for every film,” the executive told <i><a href="http://www.boxofficeguru.com/">Forbes</a></i>.
“I do think wide release theatrical works very effectively for certain tent
pole movies,” he continued (Pomerantz). But for films in the $20 million to $60
million budget range, an at-home release starts to make more and more financial
sense. “We joke that we’re in an industry built on perceived success,” Quinn
said. “But at some point, you need to have actual success to survive” (Ebiri).</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj13CbjeGuzPMpMZZ3mWORZehAvWsvsnih_kBeypyBzLcGgYqJySLvg_VqEH4lj6hkCr-RcsNSaM7-e39LVHic03ogZPXCTFEqkkONLvE6BfWzsd5WPMEGNGZs1Vnwu1zD0y0xIFFcllA3-/s1600/0709_korean_sci_fi_970-630x420.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj13CbjeGuzPMpMZZ3mWORZehAvWsvsnih_kBeypyBzLcGgYqJySLvg_VqEH4lj6hkCr-RcsNSaM7-e39LVHic03ogZPXCTFEqkkONLvE6BfWzsd5WPMEGNGZs1Vnwu1zD0y0xIFFcllA3-/s400/0709_korean_sci_fi_970-630x420.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Without TWC’s strategic framing of <i>Snowpiercer</i>
as an independent and niche film, such financial success on VOD—and perhaps
even releasing the film on demand in the first place— would have been
impossible. The trade articles and interviews that the company put out between
2012 and 2014 were instrumental in legitimizing its distribution strategy to
media professionals and viewers alike by situating the film within a taste
hierarchy that assured it would reach its intended audience. Even though <i>Snowpiercer </i>can be considered a fun,
futuristic action blockbuster as easily as Harvey Weinstein fits the bill of an
old-Hollywood studio mogul, neither description would have justified the film’s
marketing and distribution. Instead, Bong’s film was turned into an artistic indie
and Harvey tried to maintain the carefully constructed and curated image of a
self-proclaimed maverick, risk-taking patron of the arts.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span> </span><a href="http://www.vulture.com/2014/06/snowpiercer-movie-review-finally-fun-dystopia.html">http://www.vulture.com/2014/06/snowpiercer-movie-review-finally-fun-dystopia.html</a></span></span>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/snowpiercer-open-los-angeles-film-692624">http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/snowpiercer-open-los-angeles-film-692624</a></span></span>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Franich, Darren. “<i>Snowpiercer</i>:
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mind-Blowing Unpredictable Audacious Dangerous Daring
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Washington, Arlene. “LAFF: Tilda Swinton, Director Bong Joon-Ho Talk
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">at ‘Snowpiercer’
Premiere.” <i>The Hollywood Reporter</i>.<span> </span>12 June 2014. Web. 1 May 2015. <a href="http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/laff-2014-tilda-swinton-director-711459">http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/laff-2014-tilda-swinton-director-711459</a></span></span>
</div>
Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-39885726703407550052015-04-30T19:39:00.000-04:002015-05-21T19:41:12.919-04:00Overpowering the Voiceover: Female Subjectivity and Sound in Klute<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGrzDEpzEpSuRkCelxVjHRQ428QvtiRnwYOtqiB0J7mquq6hl3OowPII0vBlu5g_aCrYPfmfR4dfBbDYfkh5B4WLHz0_ubn9JA-ygZxB9Pj5WB_8GkY9Qwvi_QA3SDCs4ZKA0OkTqhVVeC/s1600/10%252C+No.16+-+Klute_100%2525.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGrzDEpzEpSuRkCelxVjHRQ428QvtiRnwYOtqiB0J7mquq6hl3OowPII0vBlu5g_aCrYPfmfR4dfBbDYfkh5B4WLHz0_ubn9JA-ygZxB9Pj5WB_8GkY9Qwvi_QA3SDCs4ZKA0OkTqhVVeC/s640/10%252C+No.16+-+Klute_100%2525.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Some critics have called <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001587/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Alan J. Pakula</a>’s neo-noir <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3S4rxnjwFDg">Klute</a> </i>(1971) progressive and radical in its positive depiction of
an independent, sexually liberated woman; others have argued that the construction
of the female character is no different than that found in classic noir, and
that <i>Klute</i> actually operates in a
profoundly anti-feminist way. This essay seeks to explore the reasons behind these
diverging interpretations, locating the source of the difficulty in assessing the
main female character’s power over the narrative in the disjunctive
relationship between sound and image in the film. In marked contrast to the
classic <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/film%20noir">noir</a> cycle, in <i>Klute</i> the
story is filtered through the subjectivity of the female character, who poses a
distinctive challenge to the patriarchal order and the foundation of the
heterosexual couple. At the same time, there is a disconnect between the words
she speaks in <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/voiceover">voiceover</a> and the actions we see unfold onscreen that actively
works to undermine her point of view. It becomes increasingly difficult, then,
to say with any certainty whether the film’s central female protagonist can be
considered an active subject or a passive object presented for the male gaze. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></div>
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: small;">As E. Ann Kaplan points out in the introduction to the 1978 edition of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Women-Film-British-Institute-Books/dp/0851701051/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1432249954&sr=8-2&keywords=women+in+film+noir"><i>Women in Film Noir</i></a>, the displacement of
the woman in noir from her traditional, fixed role in patriarchy as wife,
mother, daughter, lover, etc., inherently poses a challenge to the dominant
social order, but the work of these movies often becomes the attempt to restore
that order (16-17). <i>Klute</i> introduces
the notion of the family at the beginning of the film and shows how illicit sex
has destroyed its unity. The first shot of the film is of a tape recorder,
innocuously eavesdropping on a lively, sunny dinner party where a man and his
wife warmly toast each other among an intimate gathering of friends. The
Edenic, pastoral image of the family where the investigation starts is so
fragile and ideal we anxiously anticipate its destruction, which immediately
follows in the film’s second scene, starting with an empty chair in a dark
room, the father visibly absent. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLf1qGcfUBo82XD-jlAKDkXPfXhteOrRhXm473soN4XCoGL4Lr4FX1f_7HrvsFCDUufrCY_5YnMgd1Bd-97uWJNHfRDlNqEQiYdM6YZEYm0oS43pRRIeZg441xRDNFeyYefXez3PApr6P4/s1600/tumblr_lsg2xxGWiR1qbbsxoo1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLf1qGcfUBo82XD-jlAKDkXPfXhteOrRhXm473soN4XCoGL4Lr4FX1f_7HrvsFCDUufrCY_5YnMgd1Bd-97uWJNHfRDlNqEQiYdM6YZEYm0oS43pRRIeZg441xRDNFeyYefXez3PApr6P4/s320/tumblr_lsg2xxGWiR1qbbsxoo1_500.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The only evidence of his whereabouts is an explicit letter he has
supposedly written to a call girl in New York. The tape recorder appears once
again over the opening credits, now playing back heroine prostitute Bree Daniels’
voice, calmly discussing business with a client and recommending that he
unashamedly act out his desires: “Oh, inhibitions are always nice ’cause
they’re so nice to overcome,” she says and laughs seductively. “Don’t be
afraid. I’m not… You should never be ashamed of things like that, you mustn’t
be, you know. There’s nothing wrong. Nothing… nothing is wrong. I think the
only way that any of us can ever be happy is to let it all hang out, you know,
do it all, and fuck it.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sex, then, and the frankness of this prompting become the disruptive
factor which opens the narrative. “In general in the movies, as in society,”
Sylvia Harvey writes, “the family at the same time legitimizes and <i>conceals</i> sexuality” (37, emphasis I
original). Tom Grunneman’s loyal wife must, of course, deny that her missing
husband could have ever been involved with such a woman, but Bree’s voice, introducing
illicit sex into the domestic environment, has effectively dislodged the image
of the perfect family. The absence of family relations in most classic noirs or
its negative and distorted treatment, as in <i>Klute</i>,
inherently presents a critique of the American ideal of heterosexual marriage
and procreation. Whereas in most genres successful romantic love leads
inevitably in the direction of the stable institution of marriage, “the point
about film noir, by contrast, is that it is structured around the destruction
or absence of romantic love and the family” (Harvey 37). It has been noted that
the defining contours of noir are the product of that which is abnormal and
dissonant. The absence of “normal” family relationships creates a vacuum that
ideology abhors, allowing for the production of seeds of counter-ideologies. As
Harvey points out,</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> “The absence of disfigurement of the family
both calls attention to its own lack and to its own deformity, and may be seen
to encourage the consideration of alternative institutions for the reproduction
of social life. Despite the ritual punishment of acts of transgression, the
vitality with which these acts are endowed produces an excess of meaning which
cannot finally be contained. Narrative resolutions cannot recuperate their
subversive significance” (Harvey 45).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In <i>Klute</i>, however, the
heroine’s transgressions are not punished as much as overcome through the reinstatement
of the heterosexual couple at the end. The film places Jane Fonda in the role
occupied by the <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/femme%20fatale">femme fatale</a>, the villainous seductress who lures men into
deep, deadly trouble in classic 1940s noir. The primary crime of the genre’s
“liberated” woman, Janey Place notes, is her refusal to be defined in relation
to men, and “this refusal can be perversely seen… as an attack on men’s very
existence” (35). But, while in classic noir the femme fatale is seen as “the
obstacle to the male quest” (Kaplan 16) or “the central problem in the
unraveling of truth” (Gledhill, “<i>Klute</i>
1” 15), in Pakula’s movie Bree is neither the object of the male investigation nor
a problem in its path, but rather a clue on the way to discovery. </span></span></div>
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<a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/2013/05/sex-shadows-and-sin-on-celluloid-femme.html"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Click here for my discussion of the femme fatale character in classic film noir. </span></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The character is not a conventional noir woman because she is finally
proven innocent of the family’s and the missing man’s destruction; in fact, she
has to be saved from her own sexual confusion by the eponymous private
detective (played by Donald Sutherland). In the 1940s thrillers the great issue in question is the
reliability or otherwise of the woman, the degree of fidelity or treachery
inherent in her sexuality; in contrast, the main concern in <i>Klute</i> is the detective’s mission to
establish his friend’s honor, the sexual integrity of the man. The fatal passions
of noir are here humanized into romance as the woman is cleared of any direct
involvement of the crime and proceeds to move throughout the narrative from
brittle but genuine self-sufficiency to love and dependence on a man.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDbK-SAcYlAqyzsHAq1movcC2VeWZo6nq8ABcCXtX4JdQkDda9l8h85JiLkipLMgSGZaUgFcaTWyv8bb41Fi96t5ffOD7vmJJS-O4ibZ0hUrath3gD4ohMyQx0N5tABUllgZlFXluyMUJz/s1600/Klute-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDbK-SAcYlAqyzsHAq1movcC2VeWZo6nq8ABcCXtX4JdQkDda9l8h85JiLkipLMgSGZaUgFcaTWyv8bb41Fi96t5ffOD7vmJJS-O4ibZ0hUrath3gD4ohMyQx0N5tABUllgZlFXluyMUJz/s320/Klute-1.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In her persuasive analysis of the film, Diane Giddis is prompted to
treat <i>Klute</i> as a dramatization of
inner conflict rather than a straight suspense story, converting the two male
protagonists into projections or symbolic extensions of the heroine’s psyche. “More
than a contemporary reworking of the private eye movie,” she writes, “[<i>Klute</i>] seems closer to the psychological
suspense thriller, with most of the action going on inside the central
character’s head” (27). Thus Bree’s potential killer can be seen as the
incarnation of the emotional danger presented by the private investigator. As
Giddis notes, from the beginning the two men are shown in juxtaposition, the
first threatening “breather” call Bree gets from her tormentor immediately
followed by Klute’s appearance on her doorstep and in her life. The second time
Klute and Bree meet, the killer, later revealed to be Peter Cable, the missing
man’s employer, is shown watching them through a gate ascending the outside
stairs from the detective’s basement apartment to Bree’s apartment inside.
Although the investigator’s intentions are the opposite of the woman’s pursuer,
his methods are often the same; they both watch her from the shadows, follow
her on her trips, Klute taps her phone and Cable tapes her sessions with
clients, and both are associated visually with plummeting depths and vertical
shafts, darkness, and screens of wire netting. Significantly, both men bear
towards Bree an intense and ambiguous staring gaze.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The woman’s physical danger increases throughout the film in direct
proportion to her involvement with Klute. As her attachment to the detective
grows, Cable progresses from disembodied, silent telephone presence to
anonymous voyeur and rooftop visitor to fully materialized assailant. Instead
of clinging to Klute for protection, however, the heroine repudiates and
rejects him, seemingly holding him responsible for what is happening to her. At
the height of her emotional involvement with Klute, she tells her therapist
that she would like to “go back to the comfort of being numb again.” Throughout
the film the character’s dual desires—to maintain control and her need and fear
of losing it—create a split in her actions between a loving, vulnerable Bree,
which alternates—and sometimes co-exists with—the manipulative and defensive
Bree. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2jIakcb5dRb8OlG1WwO4nRRo_e15EPYC86V_BOMqky_9BMlLaBCiVkQULSevbUQRHwz1a_67P5bUICVOltW4G7v9MUgDGSJIM0XRxmB_i24mMOc9tMWingiAnPKZ4f1QByMD-bv6fwC50/s1600/Klute-comforts-Bree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2jIakcb5dRb8OlG1WwO4nRRo_e15EPYC86V_BOMqky_9BMlLaBCiVkQULSevbUQRHwz1a_67P5bUICVOltW4G7v9MUgDGSJIM0XRxmB_i24mMOc9tMWingiAnPKZ4f1QByMD-bv6fwC50/s320/Klute-comforts-Bree.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The first time Bree and Klute have sex is a perfect example of the contradictory
impulses that draw the heroine to him at the same time that she needs to
reassert her detachment. Frightened by a noise on her roof and unable to sleep,
the woman goes down to Klute’s apartment for company. In her pajamas and
without makeup on, she is clearly open and vulnerable, lying on his bed and
getting tucked in. In the middle of the night she wakes up and the two make
love. She must, however, assume the role of prostitute when she feels
threatened, reminding Klute that he means no more to her than any other client
and he has failed to satisfy her. Falling back into the comfortable and
empowering routine of her job, she assures him, “You were terrific, a real
tiger. Are you upset because you didn’t make me come?” she asks. “I never come
with a john.” Yet the scene doesn’t end with her assertive exit from Klute’s
apartment; this image of independence is undermined when it dissolves into a
shot of her lying in her own bed again, alone and miserable. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Not only is there a split in meaning between sound and image, but the
voice itself is shown as contradictory. The hesitant, searching remarks made to
the therapist, which are often played in voiceover, are answered by the sure,
controlled voice on the tapes that Cable obsessively plays. By the end of the
film, the heroine’s voice has been effectively stolen by her aggressor and
turned against her. The words which were empowering in the original context
they were uttered in are repositioned by Cable as indices of the evil which
female sexuality incites in men when they are played back to her over the phone
and during her final confrontation with the killer.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In her seminal essay “<a href="http://imlportfolio.usc.edu/ctcs505/mulveyVisualPleasureNarrativeCinema.pdf">Visual Pleasure and the Narrative Cinema</a>,” <a href="http://www.screenonline.org.uk/people/id/566978/">Laura Mulvey</a> posits that the male unconscious “has two avenues of escape” from the
threat of female sexuality and the underlying castration anxiety: voyeurism or
fetishistic scopophilia. In the first, the woman is investigated and her
mystery demystified counterbalanced by her devaluation, punishment, or saving
of the guilty object. Mulvey notes that this option is characteristic of film
noir, and this strategy is clearly present in <i>Klute</i>, where the detective tries to protect and save Bree, and the
killer tries to punish and destroy her.
In “<i>Klute </i>2: <i>Klute </i>and Feminism,” Gledhill notes how
the two sides of the ’40s noir private eye—his romantic idealization of women
and the contradictory embittered accusatory disgust—are split in Pakula’s movie
between the two male characters, “representing complementary faces of
patriarchy faced with the problem of female sexuality” (107). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In contrast to Bree, the detective is defined by a puritanical, almost
virginal sexuality. Unlike the private investigator of classic noir, Klute’s
power stems not from a knowing, often embittered or disillusioned view of the
world, but from his innocence. As Gledhill notes, he is “a country boy, with
his illusions and morals intact” (“<i>Klute</i>
2” 105). His puritanism undermines Bree’s assertiveness; he responds not to her
sexuality, but to the lost child in her. Although the relationship that slowly
develops between the two is based on understanding and acceptance—she allows
him to see her “mean,” “ugly,” and “whorey,” and he never judges her—Klute’s
gentleness is accompanied by strong paternalistic traits.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The second “avenue” Mulvey discusses concerns the complete disavowal of
castration by fetishizing the woman, turning her into a spectacle (63-65).
Accordingly, in <i>Klute </i>the heroine
materializes as an aspiring model, first seen in a lineup at an audition for a
commercial, where the selectors discuss the details of the female applicants’
appearance as if they were cattle. Mulvey notes that in cinema the pleasure in
looking is split between active/male and passive/female, with women, “in their
traditional exhibitionist role” simultaneously “looked at and displayed, with
their appearance coded for strong visual and erotic impact so that they can be
said to connote <i>to-be-looked-at-ness</i>”
(62-63, emphasis in original). I would argue that Pakula’s film significantly
complicates this dichotomy through the filtering of the very act of
being-looked-at-ness through the main character’s subjectivity. Although the
object of the gaze, Bree is not passive or stripped of agency, instead
appropriating and using the gaze for her own pleasure (the satisfaction of
being in control) and profit (making money off of her male clients). She
exploits and is exploited at once.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Gendering <a href="http://faculty.washington.edu/cbehler/glossary/silvermsuture.html">Kaja Silverman’s concept of suture</a>, Mulvey goes on to argue
that it is the male figure with which the spectator can identify, “so that the
power of the male protagonist as he controls events coincides with the active
power of the erotic look, both giving a satisfying sense of omnipotence” (64).
Whether or not Bree’s voice actively controls the direction of the narrative in
<i>Klute</i> will be explored further in
this essay, but it is undeniable that we identify with the female protagonist
throughout the film, associating the events unfolding onscreen with her point
of view, not that of either of the male characters. At the same time, it
remains debatable whether Bree actually maintains control through exercising
her voice. Because of the disjunction between sound and image, the audience
experiences a distance between the narrating voiceover and the story being
narrated which leaves room for ambiguity. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">One way of looking at the plot of the typical film noir, Gledhill
argues, is to see it as a struggle between different voices for control over
telling the story (“<i>Klute</i> 1” 16). In
classic noir, a hierarchy of discourses is established, suppressing the female
discourse in favor of the male. The subjective narration, usually developed in
voiceover, is almost always performed by a man, which, as Molly Haskell points
out, completely deprives the woman of her point of view (198). It is not as
clear if this is the case in <i>Klute</i>,
where the confession-oriented investigation of noir is divorced of the male
hero, becoming an investigation of the self, one instigated by the woman. Her
claim to wield the normally male prerogative of words allows Bree, especially
in her meetings with her clients, to actively engage with male sexual fantasy
instead of passively being its object. In order to understand the degree of
power Bree holds over the narrative, we must analyze the way her voice is used
throughout the film.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mary Ann Doane and Silverman have discriminated between different kinds
of voice in cinema. Doane distinguishes between (1) synch; (2) voice-off (where
a character speaks from offscreen and is not seen); (3) interior monologue
(where we see the character and hear his or her asynchronous voice); and (4)
disembodied voiceover (no visible character or designated diegetic figure).
Silverman takes these categories and, applying them specifically to the female
voice in cinema, remaps them in terms of “embodiment” as: (1) synch sound
(which she suggests binds the female film subject to the prison of the
objectifying image); (2) the floating voice (one that at times emerges as
detached and, at other time, can be attached to a specific female body in the
film and thus enjoys a certain degree of subjectivity or resistance to
classical cinema’s objectification of the female body); and (3) the disembodied
voice (a voice entirely without visual locus, which Silverman understands to be
the most resistant to the oppressive dominant ideology of patriarchy). In <i>Klute</i>, the voice of the heroine starts
as disembodied, “freed from its claustral confinement within the female body,”
but thereafter fluctuates between these different stages of embodiment (186).
What is problematic about analyzing Bree’s power in terms of her relationship
to the objectified female body is that it is the body itself which acts as the
source of the character’s independence and power.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Bree confides in her therapist that the only time she feels in control
is when she is turning tricks. Trying to get away from “the life” through
modeling or acting jobs places her in a position of helplessness,
vulnerability, and passivity, whereas with a john she can feel wanted, she
knows what she’s doing, and, “for an hour, [she is] the best actress in the
world and the best fuck in the world.” She continues, “That’s what’s nice about
it. You don’t have to feel anything, care about anything, you don’t have to
like anybody, and you just lead them by the ring in their nose in the direction
that they think they want to go in, and you get a lot of money out of them in as
short a period of time as possible, and you control it, and you call the shots,
and I always feel just great afterwards.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">From the first time we see Bree interacting with a client, we are
encouraged to identify with her subjectivity. Even in the moment in which it
would perhaps be easiest for the film to objectify the woman, when we see her
having sex, our adherence to Bree’s point of view is clinched when, groaning
out a fake orgasm, she quickly checks her watch over the client’s shoulder.
Although she offers her body, her mind is elsewhere. Later we witness how her
favorite client, an old man who “never lays a hand on [her]” pays Bree to
fabricate stories about erotic encounters in romantic locales. She approaches
prostitution as if it were a form of masquerade, no different than her
auditions as an actress or her modeling calls.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">For the character, control turns on enunciative power, what Silverman
calls “her capacity to effect through discourse” (83). The importance she
attributes to play-acting, however, suggests that “enunciative authority can
come to be invested only in a voice which refuses to be subordinated and judged
by the body” (Silverman 83). The character thus aspires to the condition of a
disembodied voice, a fact indicated not only by the verbal masquerade, with its
disconnect between body and voice, exteriority and interiority, actions and
feelings, but by a telling remark she makes to her analyst: “What I’d really
like is to be faceless and bodiless and be left alone.” As Silverman writes,</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">“The
voiceover is privileged to the degree that <i>it
transcends the body</i>. Conversely, it loses power and authority with every
corporeal encroachment, rom a regional accent or idiosyncratic ‘grain’ to
definitive localization I the image. Synchronization marks the final moment in
any such localization, the point of full and complete ‘embodiment’” (49,
emphasis in original). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Michel Chion, in <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Voice-Cinema-Michel-Chion/dp/0231108230/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1432250255&sr=8-1&keywords=the+voice+in+the+cinema"><i>The Voice in Cinema</i></a>, similarly comments on the contrasting values traditionally assigned
to the embodied voice, on the one hand, and the disembodied, acousmatic, voice,
on the other. Sexual difference functions as a point of reference, especially
when, in one striking passage, he compares the localization of a previously
unlocalized voice to the performance of striptease: </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">“In much the same
way that the female genitals are the end point revealed by undressing (the
point after which the denial of the absence of the penis is no longer
possible), there is an end point in de-acosmatization—the <i>mouth</i> from which the voice issues…. As long as the face and the
mouth have not been completely revealed… de-acousmatization is incomplete, and
the voice retains an aura of invulnerability and of magic power” (28).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It is at the moment when we see Bree, significantly objectified in the
model lineup, that she is divested of the threat to create disequilibrium and tension
that, according to Chion, the <i>acousmetre</i>
always poses. Reduced to a fetishized being, the character no longer possesses
any of the powers of the acousmatic presence, defined by Chion as ubiquity,
panopticism, omniscience, and omnipotence. The acousmetre “has only to show
itself—for the person speaking to inscribe his or her body inside the frame, in
the visual field—for it to lose its power…” (Chion 27). In fact, after the
point in which we first see the character onscreen, her voice is constantly proven
wrong by the image, Bree’s actions belying her words. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We hear Bree tell her therapist that her fear of Klute makes her angry,
makes her want to manipulate him, but we watch her melting under his gaze and
touch and caringly returning his caresses. Later, she tells him to not “get
hung up on [her],” even as she embraces him in bed. She says she could never
give up her lifestyle for him, but Pakula shows us an image of her sitting at
his feet, looking expectantly up at him like a child. This undermines the
character’s control over the narrative, as we are always more likely to believe
in the image rather than the voice. This belief, Gledhill explains, “rests on a
number of factors: first, the powerful stereotype of romantic love inevitably
takes precedence over these half-articulations of the problems of would-be
independent women; second, the ideology of the eye and the camera as offering
first-hand evidence of reality may support the image against the voice…”
(Gledhill, “<i>Klute</i> 2” 109).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In marked contrast to the heroine, the detective and Cable (Charles Cioffi) are defined
by their inscrutable silence. This is the ultimate source of their power, as
words are shown to be deceptive, not adequate to the truth, and eventually
dangerous. If the male protagonists say little, they are nonetheless given
control over the image, their gaze assessing and ultimately controlling the
scenes they survey. Whereas in classic noir the femme fatale or spider woman is
connected to darkness, shot in silhouette, obscured by shadows, or shown in mirrors
and reflections, conveying the overwhelming lack of unity and control, in <i>Klute</i> it is the men who are less visible
(Place 41). Our first sight of Klute from Bree’s point of view comes through
the peephole in her door, his face distorted by the lens, and later she peers
at him through the barely cracked and still chained door so he is only
partially in view. Throughout the film, both Klute and Cable are shot in
darkness and half-light, in silhouette or hidden in shadows, and whenever they
appear the movie abounds in jarring vertical camerawork, sudden plummeting
downward zooms or ascensions in elevator shafts, imagery of netting, wire mesh,
and claustrophobic rooms made vulnerable by skylights, suggesting insecurity,
sudden submersion, and imprisonment. The mise-en-scene reinforces the point
that the male characters represent danger and mystery more so than the female
protagonist and that, while she is displayed and fetishized by the camera, they
lie outside the realm of visual objectification.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In a change almost unprecedented in film noir, <i>Klute</i>’s final scenes pose the possibility of a fulfilled
heterosexual relationship and of domesticity; the threat of female sexuality
which was contained and punished in the classic noir cycle here is reduced
through assimilation. Some have considered this ending as unambiguously
positive. Giddis, for instance, writes,</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">“Klute—the healthy,
giving, loving side of Bree—appears to have triumphed over Cable—the malignant,
fearful, unfeeling side. Cable’s death signals the start of a new life for
Bree. At the end she is leaving New York for a small town in Pennsylvania with Klute,
apparently giving up prostitution for good. She seems to have emerged from her
dark night of fear unified, whole” (33).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Without considering the ambivalence of the voiceover and the
contradiction between image and sound, however, this reading is perhaps overly
optimistic. “I know enough about myself,” Bree declares during the last scene
of the film. “We’re so different,” she continues. “Whatever lies in store, it’s
not going to be setting up housekeeping in Tuscarora and darning socks. I’d
just go out of my mind.” This assertion of independence is completely
contradicted by the image, in which Bree gathers her belonging and leaves her
apartment with Klute; the voice is shown to be mistaken. Ironically, when they
leave, Bree’s room is stripped bare except for the telephone, which no voice
will answer.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In this essay I have attempted to show how character subjectivity and
spectator positioning are constructed in <i>Klute</i>
through both sound and image, and, significantly, through the disconnect
between the two. I argue that this disjunction happens primarily along gender
lines, as the female voice remains at odds with the (self-) objectifying of the
female body throughout the film and the control exerted by the male gaze. While
initially Bree Daniels appears as the epitome of the independent, modern,
sexually liberated woman, the threat she poses is contained as her assertions
are repeatedly undermined by what we see. I do not wish to suggest that there
is a “correct” reading of Pakula’s movie as either a progressive film that
empowers its main female character nor a work engaged solely in the ideological
function of reinforcing the values of patriarchy. Instead, my hope is to
express the inherent and constant tension embedded in the movie between these
two types of discourses and suggest the different ways this tension is handled.
The film responds to and gives voice to the repressed needs of our culture even
as it tries to manage and resolve such anxieties.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Works
Cited</b></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Chion, Michel. <i>The Voice in
Cinema</i>. Trans. Claudia Gorbman. New York: Columbia University</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Press, 1999. Print. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Doane, Mary Ann. “The Voice in Cinema: The Articulation of Body and
Space. <i>Yale French</i></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> Studies</i>. 60
(1980): 33-50. <i>JSTOR</i>. Web. 23 Apr.
2015. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Giddis, Diane. “The Divided Woman: Bree Daniels in <i>Klute</i>.” <i>Women and the Cinema:
A</i></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> Critical
Anthology</i>. Kay, Karyn and Gerald Peary, eds. New York: Dutton, 1977. Print. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Gledhill, Christine. “Klute 1: A Contemporary Film Noir and Feminist
Criticism.” <i>Women in</i></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> Film Noir</i>.
Kaplan, E. Ann. London: BFI, 1978. Print. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Gledhill, Christine. “Klute 2: Feminism and <i>Klute</i>. <i>Women in Film Noir</i>.
Kaplan, E. Ann, ed. 2<sup>nd</sup></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> ed. London: BFI, 1980. Print. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Harvey, Sylvia. “Woman’s Place: The Absent Family of Film Noir.” <i>Women in Film Noir</i>.</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Kaplan, E. Ann, ed. 2<sup>nd</sup> ed. London: BFI,
1980. Print. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Haskell, Molly. <i>From Reverence to
Rape: The Treatment of Women</i> <i>in the
Movies</i>. 2<sup>nd</sup> ed.</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press,
1987. Print. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Kaplan, E. Ann. Introduction to 1978 Edition.” <i>Women in Film Noir</i>. Kaplan, E. Ann, ed. 2<sup>nd</sup> ed.</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> London: BFI, 1980. Print. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mulvey, Laura. “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema.” <i>Feminist Film Theory: A Reader</i>.</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Thornham, Sue, ed. New York: New York University
Press, 1999. Print. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Place, Janey. “Women in Film Noir.” <i>Women
in Film Noir</i>. Kaplan, E. Ann, ed. London: BFI</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">, 1978. Print.</span></span>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Silverman, Kaja. <i>The Acoustic
Mirror: The Female Voice in Psychoanalysis and Cinema</i>.</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Bloomington and
Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1988. Theories of Representation and
Difference. Teresa de Lauretis, ed. Print.<b><br /></b></span></span></div>
Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-84073587660836624492015-04-18T10:05:00.000-04:002015-05-02T00:06:49.202-04:00"Must Be Exhausting": Nihilism, Irony and Comedy in Coen Neo-Noir<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQIHvyeMyLLMQtAPlRXIcO42y4vLe9ycgnWvdLYEP6XUTNGacYXQx6INnG0PgLXaDYVJOhGU9MI9HFri_626iofGaoCN4NR9MzsaLmmpEYgYJxqLaSwwnWdokMzTFkYf8fn1HVa-NaMy0S/s1600/blood_simple_ver3_xlg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQIHvyeMyLLMQtAPlRXIcO42y4vLe9ycgnWvdLYEP6XUTNGacYXQx6INnG0PgLXaDYVJOhGU9MI9HFri_626iofGaoCN4NR9MzsaLmmpEYgYJxqLaSwwnWdokMzTFkYf8fn1HVa-NaMy0S/s1600/blood_simple_ver3_xlg.jpg" height="446" width="640" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“The Absurd is not
in man… nor in the world, but in their presence together. For the moment it is
the only bond uniting them.” </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">–Albert
Camus, <i>The Myth of Sisyphus</i></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span> </span>“That’s life. Whichever way you turn, fate
sticks out a foot to trip you” </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">–Al
Roberts, <i>Detour</i> (Edgar G. Ulmer,
1945)</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Bunny Lebowski:
Ulli doesn’t care about anything. He’s a nihilist.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The Dude: Ah. Must
be exhausting </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">–
<i>The Big Lebowski </i>(Joel and Ethan
Coen, 1998)</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span><a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/The%20Coen%20Brothers">Joel and Ethan Coen</a>, the
double-brained, quadruple-handed creative entity behind some of the most boldly
original films to come out of the post-New-Hollywood generation, have created
and maintained a unique, unmistakable signature style, a willful blend of
darkness, humor, and sophistication. The sixteen movies the brothers have
written, directed, and produced to date mostly limit themselves to the confines
of two recognizable registers, film noir and comedy. Prior to the darkly
comedic unraveling of noir themes, characters, and motifs in such postmodern
works as Quentin Tarantino’s <i>Reservoir Dogs</i> (1992) and <i>Pulp Fiction</i>
(1994), the Coens were already making (self-)consciously comic use of noir
plots and stylistic techniques through their characteristic mix of irony,
poetry, and drama. Commentators, noting the pair’s cold, cynical treatment of
characters and their fiercely, hyperconsciously intertextual play on films
past, have sometimes described the Coens’ work as emptied out stylization or as
unnecessarily grim, pessimistic, and even amoral. Using <i>Blood Simple</i>
(1984), the filmmakers’ first feature effort, I will argue that far from
social, moral, and political apathy, what emerges in the films of the Coen
brothers is a consistent, if occasionally nihilistic, philosophy of human
experience. The directors’ work manages to repurpose and revitalize conventions
of past cultural forms in a way that is meaningful to the present moment.
Perhaps even more importantly, their films amount to a deeper investigation of
the human condition that is as serious and engaged as it is humorously macabre.</span><span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span></span></span></span></div>
<a name='more'></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span id="goog_1229148104"></span><span id="goog_1229148105"></span> </span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic1EJqjNtmrDmNJAXx5Zn8UGAoqq2ujhWgFvW4gmw0_h2PruMpD_CbgYFAdwP3eiRdK5mKn2k1riaocpsfqW1ZaCSn-P_U-h3S0z9i9qMGPF5-LPz8atj-_WhmSxfqSMsrW_BxsN2MU9mU/s1600/Blood-Simple-countryside.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic1EJqjNtmrDmNJAXx5Zn8UGAoqq2ujhWgFvW4gmw0_h2PruMpD_CbgYFAdwP3eiRdK5mKn2k1riaocpsfqW1ZaCSn-P_U-h3S0z9i9qMGPF5-LPz8atj-_WhmSxfqSMsrW_BxsN2MU9mU/s1600/Blood-Simple-countryside.png" height="173" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In
<i>Blood Simple</i>, the brothers<i> </i>play with and transgress established
forms of both film noir and hardboiled fiction, especially the writing of James
M. Cain<span> </span>( although the title is a
reference to Dashiell Hammett’s <i>Red Harvest)</i>. The film locates the story
not in the customary dark city of noir, but the spare, inhospitable desert,
closer to the settings of Jim Thompson’s crime fiction. The first moments of
the movie expose a barren southwestern wasteland shot at odd low angles that
disorient perspective. We are presented with<span style="color: #c00000;"> </span>an
empty road with a blown-out tire left behind like road kill and oil wells
reminiscent of Orson Welles’ <i>Touch of Evil </i>(1958), slate-colored skies
hanging over pastureland and lonely blacktop, and a small house standing on the
edge of nowhere. This is an ambiguously barren, bleak realm which, like the
blank billboard in one of the opening shots, communicates not “nothing,” but
rather that there is nothing left to communicate but sheer desolation. The
images are accompanied by the Texan drawl of an unnamed narrator:
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>“The world is full of complainers. And the fact is, nothing
comes with a guarantee. Now I don’t care if you’re the pope of Rome, President
of the United States or Man of the Year; something can all go wrong. Now go on
ahead, you know, complain, tell your problems to your neighbor, ask for help,
and watch him fly. Now, in Russia, they got it mapped out so that everyone
pulls for everyone else... that’s the theory, anyway. But what I know about is
Texas, and down here you’re on your own.” </span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>In a departure from classic noir,
the voiceover in the beginning doesn’t harken back to some guilt-laden past, to
some crime that can be only judged in relation to the present; instead, the
words that open <i>Blood Simple</i> seem to lead into the space where the
action is yet to take place.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>The movie begins with the above
general philosophical statements, which lay down the rules for what is to come.
Viewers of noir have been conditioned to expect at least two things from the
voiceover narration: first, that the detective addressing them will be the
protagonist of the film, and second, that the information given by the narrator
is an important part of the mystery that will follow (Snee 218-19). In <i>Blood
Simple</i>, neither is a safe assumption. The film is told by the murderer and
ends with his death, a feat perhaps more audacious than the narration in Billy
Wilder’s <i>Sunset Boulevard </i>(1950) by a dead man who has been lying face
down in a pool all along. In Coens’ film, the voiceover is not a confession as
much as it becomes a confirmation of moral equanimity, “a laconicism of
complete failure” (Seesslen 60).</span><span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>The second sequence, opening with a
back view of the protagonists looking through the car windshield towards a
nighttime highway illuminated by the glare of the headlights—a direct allusion
to Robert Siodmark’s classic noir <i>The Killers </i>(1946)—depicts Ray (played
by John Getz) driving Abby (Frances McDormand in her first screen role) to
Houston at night; she is fleeing her husband, Marty (Dan Hedaya), whom she
fears she will kill if she doesn’t leave. As early as the first minutes of the
film, a crisis has clearly already interrupted the mundane Texas life of the
characters. These opening moments, through the juxtaposition of the landscape
shots and the sequence in the car, make it clear though that the clash will not
be primarily between Abby and her husband, but also a clash between individuals
(any of the characters) and their environment. As the film’s first two words, “the
world” of <i>Blood Simple</i> is ruled by
misunderstanding, mischance, miscalculation and mistrust, an environment in
which the inability to communicate becomes a seemingly inalterable condition of
human experience. James Mottram writes, in <i>The Coen Brothers: The Life of
the Mind</i>, that “the film’s central theme is communication breakdown…. The
characters only ever see part of the whole picture. This is a world where
nothing is as it seems” (20-21). In such a setting, more reacting (or acted
upon) than acting, most Coen protagonists have become “walking embodiments of
that famed postmodern bumper sticker, ‘Shit Happens’” (Sconce 364). </span><span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>This ironic or even nihilistic
stance, however, seems especially appropriate in the context of film noir, with
its inversion of traditional values and corresponding moral ambivalence,
feelings of alienation, paranoia, and cynicism, presence of sometimes
unexplainable crime and violence and disorientation of the viewer.<span> </span>The Coens investigate, subvert and
demythologize the generic tradition of the noir detective narrative. Their
specific contributions to 1980s neo-noir are the complexly intertwined themes
of the unpredictability of human experience and the failed communication that
renders impossible any meaningful connection with others. Noir’s narratives of
mischance, in which bourgeois characters are sucked into a criminal undertow,
are divided into two broad tendencies by Foster Hirsch in <i>Detours and Lost
Highways: A Map of Neo-Noir</i>: 1) in the first, characters crash into crime
scenes through mere happenstance, and the films which fall under this category
therefore posit a world in which misfortune can overtake anyone for no reason
at all; or 2) noir assaults characters who seem to either invite or deserve their
misfortune. While films of the classic noir tradition more commonly subscribe
to the second tendency, Coen movies (and postmodern noir in general), on the
other hand, more often reflects “the sheer, absurd randomness that has always
lurked at the heart of noir” (211-12). In “Deceit, Desire, and Dark Comedy:
Postmodern Dead Ends in <i>Blood Simple</i>,” Alan Woolfolk writes that
“individual purpose and social order are fictions that may dissolve at any
moment in the face of uncertainty to reveal… the dark humor of the postmodern
absurdity of life” (87). This tendency marks the broader cultural phenomenon
described by Jeffrey Sconce as “the shift from the modernist protagonist’s
search for meaning to the postmodern ensemble ‘fucked by fate’” (Sconce 363).</span><span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>According to Georg Seesseln, the Coen
brothers create worlds full of (often contradictory) rules which nobody abides
by. “The fatal mistake” of the protagonists is that they think they are the
only ones who don’t stick to the rules. Under these circumstances, what emerges
is a “meta-rule of deception and coincidences” that always spells failure
(288). Each character tries to tell his own story but never quite pulls it off.
Most of the time others get in his way, and even when they don’t, he manages to
screw it up on his own, or his modest efforts are blighted by the arbitrariness
of fate. Accordingly, in <i>Blood Simple</i> there are no authority figures to
speak of, the law is entirely absent, and violent consequences are just as
often motivated by good intentions as ill thought. The meaninglessness that verges
on absurd in the Coens’ ridiculous pantomimes recalls <span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">Nietzsche’s characterization of nihilism, described as “a condition of
tension, as a disproportion between what we want to value (or need) and how the
world appears to operate” (Carr 25).</span></span><span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>Even
love—or whatever fuels the romance in the film—is born seemingly by chance, out
of necessity, loneliness, and opportunity. The plot kicks off with the
inversion of the classic noir scenario—instead of the lovers trying to get rid
of the husband, it is the husband who seeks the death of the adulterers. This
reversal leads to a series of at least partially unforeseeable events which
appear to be completely out of control. The unfolding of narrative in <i>Blood Simple</i> becomes not only a negative
reflection of the original model, but also leads to “a chaotization of the
entire system” (Seesslen 58). It’s interesting to note that, as if governed by
the rules and expectations of classic noir, the hired killer ends up murdering
Marty. Each of the four protagonists of the film, character types which have
become staples of noir—the young, frustrated wife, the hot-blooded lover, the
spurned husband, and the shabby private detective—is deconstructed. Instead of
the melancholy heroes of film noir, we get four wicked, unsympathetic, but very
ordinary people, defined primarily by their differences from the sophisticated
schemers of the <i>Double Indemnity </i>(1944)
stripe. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>For Visser (Emmet Walsh) the filmmakers fuse
together and complicate the writing of Cain and Hammett. The latter’s private
detective, Richard Martin notes in <i>Mean Streets and Raging Bulls: The Legacy
of Film Noir in Contemporary American Cinema</i>, unlike Chandler’s Marlowe,
was already a flawed figure given to excessive use of force, sexual temptation,
and alcoholic self-indulgence. In placing the character type in the
sociopolitical context of mid-eighties America, the Coens produce a wholly
reprehensible investigative figure (“Gimme a call whenever you want to cut my
head off,” the detective tells Marty, “I can always crawl around without it”).
In this sense, the “errant knight” private investigator of the forties, having
already evolved into the ineffective loner of the seventies, has been usurped
in <i>Blood Simple</i> by the sociopath of the eighties, “a figure who stems
from rather than ventures into the noir underworld” (Martin 106).</span><span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>The lovers similarly challenge the
conventions of classic noir. Rather than a huckster, Ray is a remarkably dim
but likeable oaf, while Abby becomes a sort of “counter-fatale, who never seems
to understand or to connect with the rules of the noir game her infidelity has
hurled her into” (Hirsch 222). Early in the film, Abby tells Ray that her
psychiatrist says she is as normal as anyone can be. The statement is quite
true, and bolstered by McDormand’s freckles and corn-fed appearance. The woman
is neither the villainous seductress who lures men into deep, deadly trouble in
classic noirs like <i>Double Indemnity</i> or <i>The Postman Always Rings Twice</i>
(1946), nor the victimized woman of neo-noirs <i>Klute </i>(1971) or <i>Chinatown</i>
(1974). Martin points out how the escalation of neo-noir productions from the
eighties until the mid-nineties was accompanied by a gradual erosion of the
fetishistic fantasy of the femme fatale and the revelation of a greater degree
of irrational masculine violence (92-96). In <i>Blood Simple</i>,
significantly, it is not the pair of adulterers that spins a web of duplicity,
double-crossing, and deceit. The shift of emphasis away from the typical femme
fatale scenario pushes the blame for all of the death and destruction on the
men of the story—it is the partnership between Marty and Visser which, gone
bad, explodes into violence. Abby is the only character who remains, in Joel
Coen’s words, “relatively innocent throughout” (qtd. in Rowell 19).</span><span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>The protagonists of <i>Blood Simple</i>,
in tune with the characteristic idiotically criminal and criminally idiotic
universe of the Coen brothers, are awash in a kind of general ineptitude in all
things illicit. First, Visser leaves both the incriminating doctored photograph
of the two sleeping lovers and a lighter which bears his initials at the scene
of the crime. Marty, much to Ray’s later surprise, is not even dead. Ray, his
second would-be killer is similarly unable to finish him off and finally buries
him alive. Thinking he is covering up for a murder Abby committed, he tries to
clean up Marty’s blood with a satin jacket that merely spreads it around. Later,
Abby visits Marty’s office, and, seeing the blood on the floor, connects it to
her husband’s report of a good deal of missing money from the safe, concluding
that Ray killed Marty for the money. Through a Cainian tangle of illegitimate
motives and ironic disconnections, Visser ultimately finds himself trying to do
exactly what Marty had commissioned in the first place, but the job proves
beyond him.</span><span></span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqDMRQGc9omKM8Dv2_VY7BK9M4gpLU4ny4_HJ_Y4sBQ2ZgTf2AzgJ9TV2ibX2F_qMPvalwg0Yrerpca3t3YhMFBn7tOTgPzooLdcuzh4IlLKl2ebrOIxApxntYRgg342memXGjFJI-2Q_n/s1600/blood_simple.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqDMRQGc9omKM8Dv2_VY7BK9M4gpLU4ny4_HJ_Y4sBQ2ZgTf2AzgJ9TV2ibX2F_qMPvalwg0Yrerpca3t3YhMFBn7tOTgPzooLdcuzh4IlLKl2ebrOIxApxntYRgg342memXGjFJI-2Q_n/s1600/blood_simple.jpg" height="243" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>Throughout all of these actions, the
viewer always knows more than the characters about who’s murdering whom and
why, which allows the development of a certain ironic distance from the black
comedy of errors unfolding onscreen. Each character sees every other character
in the film as a possible murderer, while the actual murders are carried out in
complete ignorance of the victim/killer relationship. As Georg Seesslen points
out, the characters actually know less about themselves, those around them, and
about their relationships with each new step and turn of the plot (52). In a
dynamic the Coens will repeat in subsequent neo-noirs <i>Miller’s Crossing</i>
(1990), <i>Barton Fink</i> (1991), and—to some extent—<a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/2013/11/fargo-1996-analysis.html"><i>Fargo</i></a> (1996), <i>Blood
Simple</i> is in essence about individuals forever misinterpreting each other’s
actions, a motif characteristic of noir in general, here taken to excessive
extremes. The absurdity of the situations recalls Thomas Nagel’s idea of “the
collision between the seriousness with which we take our lives and the
perpetual possibility of regarding everything about which we are serious as
arbitrary, or open to doubt” (157). He continues, “reference to our small size
and short lifespan and to the fact that all of mankind will eventually perish
without a trace are metaphors for the backward step which permits us to regard
ourselves from without and to find that particular form of our lives curious
and slightly surprising” (Nagel 163). The response, according to Nagel, is
neither anger, resentment, nor escape, but an ironic acceptance of the
absurdity that “is one of the most human things about us” (165). As Joel
Feinberg points out, “irony is on balance an <i>appreciative </i>attitude. One
appreciates the perceived incongruity much as one does in humor, where the
sudden unexpected perception of incongruity produces laughter” (277). In <i>Blood
Simple</i>, the irony and humor emerge partly out of the disconnect between
characters’ and viewers’ experience, the former never letting on that there
might be even anything remotely preposterous about (what Foster Hirsch calls)
the “melodrama of mischance” they’re enmeshed in (211-250).</span><span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>The link between violence and farce
as forms of failure will become the basis of the Coens’ particular brand of
dark comedy in subsequent films (Palmer 24-25). As Schuy R. Weishhar notes in
“The Mundane and the Catastrophic in the Films of Joel and Ethan Coen,” “those
scenes of ridiculously but brutally barbaric violence, those in which Coen
brothers characters are reduced to bumbling idiots, cartoonish caricatures of
themselves—those scenes that are now regarded as ‘classic Coen brothers’
moments—such scenes are also deadly serious” (121-22). The depiction of
characters trapped in a labyrinth at the mercy of a hostile fate can transform
the tone of the action from the gravely tragic to the absurdly comic with
startling ease. The humor erupts even when—or is it especially when—it seems
the most inappropriate. “With the Coens, the very worst does happen, but even
so it can be shown to have its funny side; black humor finds its source in the
wreckage that can result from human imperfection” (Palmer 25). </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>Hitchcock’s influence, his interest
in the macabre and black humor, in mixing suspense with near-slapstick, is
particularly apparent in <i>Blood Simple</i>’s prolonged burying sequence.
First Ray tries and fails to muster the will to run Marty over in his car, then
unsuccessfully attempts to kill the man with a shovel and finally, shockingly,
decides to bury him alive in an open field on the side of the highway. The tone
oscillates between drama and the grimmest kind of humor, ending with an image
(Ray stomping on the grave that contains a screaming man, slowly suffocating to
death) straight out of a B-horror movie. There is no dialogue or music in this
twenty minute long sequence, only Ray’s grunting, sighing, labored breathing
and Marty’s groaned attempts to threaten his abductor. This creates the feeling
of time mercilessly stretching out, as though we are to understand that the
awfulness of the act is surpassed only by the awfulness of the non-act—and here
we might remember that Ethan Coen was once a philosophy student, but more on
that later.</span><b><span></span></b></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGtUKGKfODKUFq-li8EiewWzDZd7Jh3p_tsecdws2woDuJZzbbl_4YCJcVw0alAKSfP1XDiXxZ0mC2VIuzO-sgOPEIfU41u1lWa8i3GwILIbB1INV8JIqrJjJBRr-WhbJeBNpipkw0bSTt/s1600/bloodsimple02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGtUKGKfODKUFq-li8EiewWzDZd7Jh3p_tsecdws2woDuJZzbbl_4YCJcVw0alAKSfP1XDiXxZ0mC2VIuzO-sgOPEIfU41u1lWa8i3GwILIbB1INV8JIqrJjJBRr-WhbJeBNpipkw0bSTt/s1600/bloodsimple02.jpg" height="173" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>The
stylization in the film, although often flamboyant, serves to create a mood of
unfamiliarity and mystery that complements the main themes of the narrative. In
its disruptive moments—as when the camera makes threatening movements that do
not seem to be required by the action—the Coens’ technique reminds us of the
random instability of the character’s universe, and of noir in general. The use
of sound throughout the film throws us—and the characters—into an even deeper
confusion. For instance, when Marty calls Visser from a phone booth on a busy
road, he has to shout to make himself heard over the roar of the passing cars,
but even then we can’t always make out exactly what he’s saying. On the other
end, Visser speaks in little more than a whisper, but both we and Marty
understand him perfectly. The fact that the voices overlap prevents us from
telling ourselves that we are visually in one place and acoustically in
another. We are everywhere and nowhere, and the process of communication of
which this scene is only an example, is in itself entirely irrational and
creates only further uncertainty. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>“What is most certain is uncertainty
itself,” Barton Palmer writes in <i>Joel and Ethan Coen</i>, “the fact that
‘something can always go wrong,” as the narrator wryly observes…. Like the
bewildered and rightly paranoid [noir] protagonist… the characters in <i>Blood
Simple</i> find themselves trapped in an unfathomable universe of deadly
violence” (17). The crisis the protagonists find themselves in demands actions
and decisions, which Coen characters almost always make without foreseeing the
consequences and which they engage in without much reflection—as do Abby and
Ray, but also Hi and Ed in <i>Raising Arizona </i>(1987), Jerry in <i>Fargo</i>,
and Chad and Linda in <i>Burn After Reading </i>(2008). Conversely, the
characters who reflect on their actions get lost in their ruminations (Tom in <i>Miller’s
Crossing</i>, the title character of <i>Barton Fink</i>, Larry in <i>A Serious
Man </i>[2009]), and sometimes (as in <i><a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/2014/12/dismantling-narrative-conventions-and.html">The Big Lebowski</a> </i>[1998], <i>O
Brother Where Art Thou?</i> [2000], and<i> The Man Who Wasn’t There </i>[2001])
the brothers’ protagonists seem to alternate between the two tendencies. The
result is always that the initial crisis spins out, centrifugally expanding
into a series of misadventures and misfortunes that become correlates to it. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>The relentless pursuit of
self-interest motors all of these plots, but intention has very little to do
with outcome. No matter how well conceived, characters’ plans are derailed by
mischance and often fatal bad luck, running afoul of the unforeseen, “as if to
say the universe has no inherent order, at least none that humans are capable
of predicting” (Madison 15). </span><span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>It is not an exaggeration to say
that nearly every major action in <i>Blood Simple</i> is determined by
unchecked passions—not just erotic impulse, but raw motives of fear, greed,
revenge, and anger that cause individuals to go “simple.” Ironically, the
proverbial last man standing is the woman whose weakness and dissatisfaction
set the story into motion. She survives less as a result of her intelligence
and sangfroid—though she displays both—than of random good fortune. In the
final scenes, Abby kills her would-be assailant while under the impression he
is someone else, the irony of her misunderstanding prompting a bitter laugh as
the dying man recognizes the absurdity of the situation. In many ways, the
film’s ending is the sum total of its deceptions and misconnections, evidence
of the gap between intention and effect and of the irrelevance of initial
motives. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>“In the end, there is little to
choose, morally speaking, between violence coolly calculated and violence that
is the accidental result of ghoulish farce, that is, between Ray’s gruesome
silencing of Marty (in order to save Abby), and Visser’s shooting of Ray (where
self-preservation is the motive). The film’s rough justice spares only Abby,
who has “no innocent blood on her hands” (Palmer, <i>Joel and Ethan Coen </i>24).
The resolution is deeply ironic, a proof of the propositions about human life
the detective had advanced at the film’s beginning.</span><span></span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiatC8w0_aPBKsxUeSuuUCm8YHQUj8MLaTX9oZ8VDOfgKZ56IWnHQbGO-fvRjTbwreL_vx2D_QNyzCKnIeyRYKukZ3DEHc1Q3IFRcyOflCQ_LRQRluEJVjR85NnwmLTU_Z7DpICdVWTNXzw/s1600/rifle+sight+blood+simple.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiatC8w0_aPBKsxUeSuuUCm8YHQUj8MLaTX9oZ8VDOfgKZ56IWnHQbGO-fvRjTbwreL_vx2D_QNyzCKnIeyRYKukZ3DEHc1Q3IFRcyOflCQ_LRQRluEJVjR85NnwmLTU_Z7DpICdVWTNXzw/s1600/rifle+sight+blood+simple.png" height="177" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>The Coens’ resurrection and
renovation of classic Hollywood genres reflects the postmodern sensibility, or,
as Georg Seesslen puts it, what happens in a Coen movie is similar to the
musical technique of sampling (238). This recycling and reworking of noir
motifs, the manipulation of images and a persistent attention to technique are
readily acknowledged by the filmmakers. “It’s the Same Old Song” features on <i>Blood Simple</i>’s soundtrack and is
repeated self-referentially over the closing credits, underscoring the
directors’ knowing re-appropriation of past forms and cultural material. As an
exercise in transgeneric filmmaking, and in its references and allusions to
classic noir, its self-reflexivity and the use of obvious symbolism, <i>Blood
Simple</i> reflects what Frederic Jameson, in <i>Postmodernism, or the Cultural
Logic of Late Capitalism</i><span>,</span>
calls the “well-nigh universal practice today of what may be called pastiche” and
the exclusion of genuine “historicity” (64-71). </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>In a formulation reminiscent of
Jameson’s original presentation of pastiche as lacking “parody’s ulterior
motives, amputated of the satiric impulse, devoid of laughter… blank parody, a
statue with blind eyeballs” (65), Elliot Stein’s 1984 review in <i>Film Comment</i>
accused the Coen brothers’ self-conscious bravura stylization of producing a
“callous banality” that has been cobbled together from “Prof. Lawrence Kasdan’s
Film Noir 101 course,” the story’s emptiness dressed up with “vacant
virtuosity” and pointless visual excess (cited in Palmer, <i>Joel and Ethan
Coen </i>28-29). While many critics have railed against the current generation
of independent filmmakers, complaining these directors are “all flash and no
substance,” there are an abundance of arguments against such easy dismissal of
the Coens’ films as pointless deconstructions or hybridizations of familiar
generic categories.</span><span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>At the same time that the brothers
engage noir themes, motifs, and tone, they also engage a certain version of the
real, their stories and characters exemplifying important trends within
American culture. <i>Blood Simple</i> stands as a challenge to the indictment
of all texts of the postmodern era as lacking a connection with the
contemporary, or simply purveying an aggressive flattening of the past. The
Coens’ films are undoubtedly postmodern, “yet engage in a dialogue with genre
and with classic studio films that does not slight the political and the
cultural” (Palmer, <i>Joel and Ethan Coen</i> 60). Thus, far from a general
apathy, their films make very direct statements about American society and
politics, “even if these can’t be classified as unambivalent ‘messages’”
(Seesslen 248). </span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxVj9BKOtszMf5D_FYhttO_dAqe_Ld8_rxH3yQPCMVCbAatlAAwIclJ-dtSGUrELV4W8i2zIN664s2lrBfIH6RbtwIxaaf6O9sERg-2MuvuczUuUAGyxslnbv08Q5t6b-zfWXBOteZZF24/s1600/blood01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxVj9BKOtszMf5D_FYhttO_dAqe_Ld8_rxH3yQPCMVCbAatlAAwIclJ-dtSGUrELV4W8i2zIN664s2lrBfIH6RbtwIxaaf6O9sERg-2MuvuczUuUAGyxslnbv08Q5t6b-zfWXBOteZZF24/s1600/blood01.jpg" height="216" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span>Blood Simple </span></i><span>features a drama rooted in central features of the American
character: independence and self-determination. In a decade in which mainstream
American filmmaking saw a return to older values and a new Horatio Algerism
that emphasized hard work, endurance, and resolution, re-enacting the
foundational African myth of self-fashioning, the Coens’ characters’ schemes of
self-improvement invariably came to nothing, and “Visser’s twisted commentary
on American ideals [was] like a slap in the face to the patriotism of fear that
reigned in 1984…. With the country locked in a potentially apocalyptic arms
race with Russia, the first voice [of the film] casually praises socialism and
casts a shadow on American individualism” (Rowell 7). The fact that this
commentary, a crude philosophy of individualism, is delivered by the most
immoral and unappetizing figure in the movie gives the film a thoroughly
political bent. One critic went as far as to call the movie, “among other
things, a radically anti-American film” (Seesslen 62). In the ruthless
burlesque of the self-made man, <i>Blood Simple</i> advances beyond the
inauthenticity of Jameson’s “blank parody” (65); it offers a return, as Palmer
notes, “albeit in a more cynical vein and in a more marginalized area of the
industry, to the questioning of cultural certainties that gave so much
intellectual force and enduring value to the principal films of the Hollywood
Renaissance” (39). Offering a similar argument, Richard Martin sees the
independently produced neo-noirs of the eighties as a revival of the
neo-modernist neo-noir projects of filmmakers like Martin Scorsese, Robert
Altman, Arthur Penn, and Francis Ford Coppola, although “with a greater…
postmodernist… emphasis now placed on self-referentiality, playfulness and
‘entertainment’” (105).</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>However, the Coens’ linking of
sources and references to film history as well as contemporary movements in
society doesn’t always fully succeed; contradictions remain, and this is why
their films have on occasion been described as empty—or worse, as some critics
have been led “into a familiar chain of indictment reaching back through
critiques of cynicism, irony, postmodernist, secular humanism and cultural
relativism, all the way to the grand architect of modern disaffection
Nietzsche…” (Sconce 350). In a 1998 editorial for the <i>Los Angeles Times</i>,
film critic Kenneth Turan bemoaned what he described as an onslaught of
“pointlessly and simplistically grim films.” In the same week, Manohla Dargis,
writing for <i>LA Weekly</i>, coined the phrase “the new nihilism,” concluding
that “we are being inundated with a cinema of hate,… a cinema that encourages
our sadism, our scorn, and, worst of all, our total disinterest toward the
world, other human beings, and just maybe ourselves.”<i> </i></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>While never making direct reference
to the Coens, these articles concern a certain style of postmodernist
filmmaking to which the brothers undoubtedly belong, one that manifests a
predilection for irony, black humor, fatalism, relativism, and, yes, even
nihilism. Add to this the Coens’ cynicism and, perhaps even misanthropy in
creating characters which are undoubtedly mentally underpowered and morally
challenged, and it is understandable why so many commentators might confuse
this cultivated illusion of blank disengagement with actual moral and political
apathy. But we must remember that, as Jeffrey Sconce notes in “Irony, Nihilism,
and the New American ‘Smart’ Film,” no form of irony is truly disengaged from
its material: “Behind the veneer of studied detachment, cultivated disaffection
and ironic posturing, many of these films are extremely politicized and even
rather moralistic” (352). What we get in Coen brothers films is not apathy, but
a consistent philosophy of human experience, indeed a clearly—if not always
clear-cut—moral outlook on the world. </span><span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>Nietzsche’s
view of a world in which everything is continually changing and nothing is
stable and enduring seems uncannily close to the universe created by Joel and
Ethan Coen. Nihilism involves the dissolution of standards of judgment; for the
nihilist, there is no longer any basis for distinguishing truth from falsity,
good from evil, noble from base action, or higher from lower ways of life
(Hibbs 139).<span> </span>“Truths are illusions which
we have forgotten are illusions,” Nietzsche writes in an influential early
essay (“On Truth and Lies in a Nonmoral Sense” 84); consequently, every concept
of being—from the self to God—is a fiction. One of Nietzsche’s most famous and
most provocative statements is that “God is dead.” The claim of Western
religion that there is some permanent and unchanging otherworldly realm or
substance thus becomes untenable, and with it so do Western metaphysical
systems, the source of or foundation for our understanding of human existence,
our morality, and our hope for the future, among other things. “All moral codes
are seen to be merely conventional and, hence, optional” (Hibbs 139). The death
of God—the loss of permanence, of a transcendent source of value and meaning,
and the resulting disorientation and nihilism—leads to existentialism,
characterized by Robert Porfirio as “and outlook which begins with a
disoriented individual facing a confused world that he cannot accept” (81). </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>Mark
T. Conrad argues that film noir is a type of America response to, or
recognition of, this seismic shift in our understanding of the world, a view
that explains the pessimism, alienation and disorientation, and the threat of
nihilism and meaninglessness that many critics have noted. For Americans,
Conrad continues, the belief in what Nietzsche called God, in the sense, order,
and meaning of life, is encapsulated in the idealistic faith in “progress and
the indomitable American spirit” (19-20). Film noir’s “bleak vision of contemporary
life,” it has been argued, “offers the obverse of the American Dream” (Palmer, <i>Hollywood’s Dark Cinema</i> 6) or, as David
A. Cook put it, noir “held up a dark mirror to postwar America and reflected
its moral anarchy” (cited in Snee 215). The thread running through the design
of film noir is “the sense of meaningless per se, not that life just <i>happens</i> to be going wrong for the time
being and in one particular respect” (Sanders 93, emphasis in original). This
description seems almost tailor-made for the Coen brothers’ films, but do
meaninglessness and chance always spell hopelessness? Indeed, thematically,
their movies frequently focus on crisis moments that seem to betray a kind of
cynicism about human life that can be aligned to nihilism, but therein are also
the comedy and the social critique, in the contradiction between the infinite
ambitions of the characters and the existential finitude that threatens them.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>The
Coens are not passive nihilists, pessimists, representatives of “the decline
and recession of the power of the spirit” (Nietzsche, <i>The Will to Power</i> 17). Like Nietzsche’s, their nihilism is
“ambiguous”; if, in one sense, it is the “unwelcome guest,” it is also an
opportunity, clearing a path for “increased power of the spirit” (Nietzsche, <i>The Will to Power</i> 17). Active nihilists,
according to Hibbs, see the decline of traditional moral and religious systems
as “an occasion for the thoroughgoing destruction of desiccated ways of life
and the creation of a new order of values” (139-40). Irony, in the way the
Coens employ it, might ultimately be the key to this intervention, not a
passive retreat from involvement. This is not to say the Coens’ universe and,
with its intricate ballet of clashing motives and violent movement, is not a
place where characters’ lives are still cynically displaced by the often cruel
contrivances of chance, but that the embrace of this meaninglessness might
ultimately provide the ultimate form of meaning, in the end allowing the few
wearied and worn survivors of fate to pull together and imagine a different way
of life. The filmmakers are not disengaging from belief, politics, and
commitment; they are strategically disengaging form a certain terrain of
belief, politics, and commitment. Even when they reach the point of nihilism,
we should remember that nihilism itself is not so much a belief in <i>nothing</i> as a refusal to believe in
someone else’s <i>something</i>. “Nihilists!
Fuck me,” Walter Sobchak (John Goodman) exclaims in <i>The Big Lebowski</i>. “I mean,” he continues, “say what you want about
the tenets of National Socialism, Dude, at least it’s an ethos.” I mean, say
what you want about the darkness or self-consciousness of the Coen brothers’
vision, but at least it’s an ethos.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfxuE3B0mtVqsjSojfCMn6SWpoy7z7M_wRnEp77sOjFdFj7XxuUyHI4Ys6ETD5fKuwi8Wq73b-pbK6scAeKEYzn6XHOsht2zOpE8lNSI_UtXOtOWwP_A486tMw1SpC0DS4erGmsun9_8Va/s1600/Blood-Simple-Sangue-Facile-recensione-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfxuE3B0mtVqsjSojfCMn6SWpoy7z7M_wRnEp77sOjFdFj7XxuUyHI4Ys6ETD5fKuwi8Wq73b-pbK6scAeKEYzn6XHOsht2zOpE8lNSI_UtXOtOWwP_A486tMw1SpC0DS4erGmsun9_8Va/s1600/Blood-Simple-Sangue-Facile-recensione-2.jpg" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span> </span><b><span>Works Cited</span></b></span></span></div>
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</span></span><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
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</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>Carr,
Karen L. <i>The Banalization of Nihilism</i>.
New York: State University of New York Press,</span><span> 1992.
Print.</span></span></span>
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>Conrad,
Mark T. “Nietzsche and the Meaning and Definition of Noir.” <i>The Philosophy of Film</i></span><i><span> Noir</span></i><span>. Ed. Mark T.
Conrad. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2006. Print.</span></span></span>
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>Dargis,
Manohla. “Whatever.” <i>LA Weekly</i>. 26
Nov. 1998, n.p. Web. 11 Apr. 2015.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://articles.latimes.com/1998/nov/22/entertainment/ca-46482"><span>http://articles.latimes.com/1998/nov/22/entertainment/ca-46482</span></a><span> </span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>Davis,
J. Madison. “The Idiotically Criminal Universe of the Brothers Coen.” <i>World Literature</i></span><i><span> Today</span></i><span> 89.1 (2015): 14-16.
<i>Literary Reference Center</i>. Web. 11 Apr. 2015.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>Feinberg,
Joel. “Absurd Self-Fulfillment.” <i>Time and
Cause</i>. Ed. Peter van Inwagen. Dordrecht: D.
Reidel, 1980. Print.</span><span> </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>Hibbs,
Thomas S. “The Human Comedy Perpetuates Itself: Nihilism and Comedy in Coen Neo Noir.”
<i>The Philosophy of Neo-Noir</i>. Ed. Mark
T. Conrad. Lexington, Ky.: University</span><span></span></span></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>Press
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span>Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-30957059704026083212015-04-10T20:42:00.000-04:002015-05-24T21:29:45.690-04:00Train of Thought: Tourism, Travel, and the Self-Conscious Spiritual Journey of Wes Anderson’s "The Darjeeling Limited"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvVjHWliykwRUlOKtleHCeHWj1_o3c1pDKU-fjlVssMqeleFSL5l0KC0S5rfVHRCda1bfQ0iooYn6Nu5RcIwrebnrEHLLwImgDrBhbZUTDnWBCwVAtV-ZGVeYWoK3IcNcOEYT1R9q5N1pH/s1600/darjeeling1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvVjHWliykwRUlOKtleHCeHWj1_o3c1pDKU-fjlVssMqeleFSL5l0KC0S5rfVHRCda1bfQ0iooYn6Nu5RcIwrebnrEHLLwImgDrBhbZUTDnWBCwVAtV-ZGVeYWoK3IcNcOEYT1R9q5N1pH/s1600/darjeeling1.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A
taxi hastily makes its way down a narrow city street in an overhead long shot
that soon movies in a zipping, zooming motion to meet the car head on,
destabilizing the viewer and isolating this small vessel in a sea of
stereotypical exoticism that, the soundtrack informs us through the shorthand
of the theme from <a href="http://www.satyajitray.org/">Satyajit Ray</a>’s <a href="http://www.criterion.com/films/27657-the-music-room"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jalsaghar</i></a>,
must be India. Throughout the scene, the business-suit-and-fedora-wearing
passenger, played by <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Bill%20Murray">Bill Murray</a>, alternates nervous glances at his watch with
nervous glances at his surroundings as he’s jolted the backseat of the tiny
cab, whizzing through colorful, crammed South Asian scenery full of
pedestrians, animals, buildings and cars that present nothing more than
obstacles on a hurried drive to the train station. It’s clear he’s on a time
table, not taking in the environment as much as moving through it as fast as he
can, the tension increased by jumpy, jagged juxtaposition of quickly traveling
shots. There is something specifically American in Murray’s appeal, and seeing
him in the opening sequence of <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Wes%20Anderson">Wes Anderson</a>’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Darjeeling Limited </i>only works to further emphasize the
foreignness of the setting relative to its protagonists. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Charting
unknown territory no less than in the director’s previous film, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yh401Rmkq0o"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou</i></a>,
Murray’s unnamed character presents a stereotypical image of the privileged,
white, insensitive, ignorant American abroad. Of course he is late, and when
the cab driver pulls into the station, Murray runs away without paying and,
barely looking back at the people behind him, cuts the line at the counter to
buy a ticket, all before breaking into a sprint after the moving train, in the
first of four of Anderson’s signature slow motion processions in the film, this
one to the Kinks’ elegiac “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a8J4UczYRHU">This Time Tomorrow</a>.” As he awkwardly strives forward
he’s slowly overtaken by <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Adrien%20Brody">Adrien Brody</a>’s character, who enters frame and film
from right, outpacing Murray and clambering aboard the racing titular train as
Ray Davies wonders “<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: xx-small; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This time tomorrow where will we be/ On a spaceship somewhere sailing
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what will we see/ Field full of houses, endless rows of crowded streets/ I don’t
know where I’m going, I don’t want to see/ I feel the world below me looking up
at me/ Leave the sun behind me, and watch the clouds as they sadly pass me by/
And I’m in perpetual motion and the world below doesn’t matter much to me.” </span>The sequence is
undoubtedly comedic, but there is something mournfully poetic in the use of
music, in Murray’s silent, defeated figure, slowly receding into the background
as the train passes him by, and in the soft, bittersweet smile that plays on
Brody’s lips as he watches the older man left behind, a soulful and ultimately
sad expression that will take the rest of the film to explain.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Parts of this essay have previously appeared in <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<![endif]-->“<a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/2014/09/baggage-objects-and-spaces-as-markers.html"><b>Baggage: Objects and Spaces as Markers of the Emotional Journey in Wes Anderson’s The Darjeeling Limited</b></a>.”
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3pG6DSp16fZI4k9jCsAu8qin0day8HlCrfjR7Vc2V4UcXgyx6YWiAM8ssfCc_gwK_8PYe5hKWhbNZ4FLeu9W2rIcl6gdcXixM1WfVlAHNFi5jP2iKmN_gjxepBwDHzbrwjR2ttK2BB0kD/s1600/51acb8e7d1b94e066fe6aea4000e15b0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3pG6DSp16fZI4k9jCsAu8qin0day8HlCrfjR7Vc2V4UcXgyx6YWiAM8ssfCc_gwK_8PYe5hKWhbNZ4FLeu9W2rIcl6gdcXixM1WfVlAHNFi5jP2iKmN_gjxepBwDHzbrwjR2ttK2BB0kD/s1600/51acb8e7d1b94e066fe6aea4000e15b0.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">What
Brody’s Peter and his brothers, Francis (<a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Owen%20Wilson">Owen Wilson</a>) and Jack (<a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Jason%20Schwartzman">JasonSchwartzman</a>) Whitman, must leave behind in Anderson’s film is not only Murray’s
surrogate father figure—the actor’s notable and surprising absence throughout
the rest of the movie shadows the absence of the Whitmans’ deceased father—but
everything that this peripheral character represents. The central trio of wealthy
white Westerners embarks on a (very self-conscious) spiritual journey across
India by rail not merely for the sake of seeing the world, but also for the
healing of personal ailments. Their journey, at first nothing more than a
forced family march to enlightenment, complete with laminated itineraries and
detailed user instructions for spiritual rituals, combines an exploration of
traveled space with an investigation of psychological processes of change and
transformation. The brothers’ displacement and entering of a new territory is
specifically what prompts the characters’ reassessment of their own existence,
encouraging them to rethink their worldviews and paradigms and move,
significantly, towards the creation of a new community. By the end of
Anderson’s film, The Whitman brothers will have stepped away from the safety of
home, the familiarity of objects, the security of material comfort, and the
need to plan and control everything around them; they stop being tourists and
become travelers. In embracing the danger of uncertainty and the possibility of
community, in their family as well as with the Other, they go against typically
Western notions of rationalism and individualism to begin to understand and
accept a new way of life.</span></span></div>
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<a name='more'></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">If
the ultimate conclusion of the trip sounds hackneyed or simplistic, one must
understand that the blatant—and blatantly, self-consciously clichéd—nature of
<a href="http://www.nybooks.com/blogs/nyrblog/2013/jan/31/wes-anderson-worlds/">Anderson</a>’s exploration of the journey theme is ironic and intentional.
Francis’s explanation of the purpose of the brothers’ cross-country journey in
the beginning of the film (“A: I want us to be brothers like we used to be and
to find ourselves and bond with each other. B: I want to make this trip a
spiritual journey where each of us seeks the unknown, and we learn about it. C:
I want us to be completely open and say yes to everything, even if it’s
shocking and painful”) is delivered to Jack and Peter while directly facing the
camera, and thus the audience. This is a performative gesture that sardonically
acknowledges and engages with the audience’s genre expectations of the road
movie. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In
“Balancing Act: Exploring the Tone of the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Life
Aquatic with Steve Zissou</i>,” John Gibbs identifies the four dimensions of
tone as the film’s attitude towards 1) its characters and subject matter, 2)
its audience; 3) the conventions it employs or invokes; and 4) the film as film
(137). This structure is helpful as we discuss the self-reflexivity of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Darjeeling Limited</i>. Anderson and the
audience are fully aware of the clichéd nature of the film’s spiritual journey.
Yet the characters themselves are completely and genuinely invested in the
pursuit of their emotional fulfilment within the film’s diegesis, even as
Francis is situated, from the very beginning, as a self-referential character
performing these viewer expectations. The constructed nature of the dialogue
and the deadpan performance style of this scene are consistent with the
director’s cinematic milieu and self-reflexive engagement of the
tourist-traveler dichotomy employed in the development of character.</span></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQgzYLjs47EI-cbXA0XS-O8CJOyVkTncg5gZvqleNLaPUDmUkNOGxvUpu66Isey_FoZo9tCxLeJ8bsFR8PRiszYgc0v5USdhkujDk7fPyyQvfinuVsj5GzQT5CXYbIK4p6v4daPNGgsU1Y/s1600/Picture2.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQgzYLjs47EI-cbXA0XS-O8CJOyVkTncg5gZvqleNLaPUDmUkNOGxvUpu66Isey_FoZo9tCxLeJ8bsFR8PRiszYgc0v5USdhkujDk7fPyyQvfinuVsj5GzQT5CXYbIK4p6v4daPNGgsU1Y/s1600/Picture2.png" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
often-invoked opposition of traveler and tourist elucidates two distinct types
of mobility and cultural practice. John Sallis’ <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Topographies-Studies-Continental-Thought-Sallis/dp/0253218713"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Topographies</i></a>, a collection of musings inspired by traveling around
the world, begins by describing the author’s work, and, in the process, draws a
clear distinction between travel and tourism: </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">“This genre of
discourse, though deployed in relation to travel, has nothing do to with
tourism, either ancient or modern; neither is its orientation such as would
simply exploit the figure of travel as a metaphor for the movement of
development of philosophical thought. Rather, the travel to which such writing
submits takes place as a discovery of evocative places, of places that, because
they are evocative, give focus to the visit, in contrast to the accelerated
distraction of tourism” (1-2).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">This
“accelerated distraction of tourism” is precisely what the Whitman brothers are
engaged in throughout roughly the first half of the film. Three greedy tourists
grabbing at epiphany, they go from one Spiritual Place to another, ringing
bells, kneeling, praying and donning ridiculously undersized ritual head-wraps
all in an attempt to heal their emotional and,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>in Francis’s case, physical wounds. Carefully planning and trying to
control everything through a preposterously over-detailed schedule leads,
paradoxically, to a state of passivity in which the characters become objects
stripped of agency. This is perhaps less obvious in Francis’ case, because he,
or, more appropriately, his assistant Brendan, is the one making the
itineraries. But Jack and Peter are, by Anderson’s own admission, just
following along. “I feel like two of the brothers have just sort of been
assigned to go to India,” the director has said in an interview. “They’ve been
told, ‘Here are your tickets, here’s where you need to be, just follow this
path and you should end up in this compartment. You’ll find me there.’ I don’t
think these brothers are exactly the most open-minded to the world” (Seitz
208). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
filmmaker tells the story of a friend who used to travel all the time and kept
detailed journals which he called “The Musings of a Completely Unfeeling
American Abroad.” He never allowed the experiences and information he gathered
on his journeys to change his worldview or enter into his daily life in any
way; he refused to change or adapt to the places he visited. According to
Anderson, the Whitman brothers are, similarly, as a group, “pressing right
through the middle of it, and they’re kind of interested. They like the idea of
picking up a little of this and a little of that, but they’re not studying it
for long. They’ll just put it in their suitcase with the rest of their stuff.
And it takes them a lot to really open their eyes, because they’re very fixated
on their own problems. They’re just very selfish, narcissistic people” (Seitz
209).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzj-OXM_iud7pZwo34kts75f5pnT_uQt6L8WfgS7JrvpkvfvQkIxUrpAo0CBHChSGI5HN-Ye7In1P0sAHDbJDsj6ccNGF6Jshn7rM357w6iA__lkRL0nfTfq88lQUueu_P_lF9qyDIbpTm/s1600/Picture5.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzj-OXM_iud7pZwo34kts75f5pnT_uQt6L8WfgS7JrvpkvfvQkIxUrpAo0CBHChSGI5HN-Ye7In1P0sAHDbJDsj6ccNGF6Jshn7rM357w6iA__lkRL0nfTfq88lQUueu_P_lF9qyDIbpTm/s1600/Picture5.png" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
first half of the characters’ trip is almost like a shopping trip to India. In
one scene, that is literally what it is, when they go to the bazaar near the
Temple of 1,000 Bulls. The scene starts with a slow panning shot of the scenery
and native villagers before the camera moves down to reveal the brothers
arriving at the temple in an overhead shot and then quickly zooms in on them,
all but eliminating the background, a bustling picture of marketplace activity.
Here, as in many other sequences of the film, the camerawork and spatial
positioning of the main characters in relation to their environment communicates
their dislocation and separation from their surroundings. The Indian people are
literally and figuratively placed on a different—in this case, higher—level
than Francis, Peter, and Jack, and the zoom serves to further isolate the characters
from what is around them, and perhaps to suggest the ways in which they,
themselves, isolate themselves and block out their environment. Introduced by
Francis, as “one of the most spiritual places in the entire world,” the temple
holds the characters’ attention for the whole of three seconds before they turn
around and go about buying different items, Anderson underlining the brothers’
commodification of India into a series of products they can purchase. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN3tbskFzJnFNdsvCeG0Cw1dSZ9-oJUafuS3vrstf9R50fjIyHU34o6-5R_W3VUZ4pHRUKuaGkibqYKdT_MyhgQf2qZoTTDj-fAKNzvawNT-2ksVgCL4tLHyyBce_wtQieTOVseAbGHs3Y/s1600/Untitled26.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN3tbskFzJnFNdsvCeG0Cw1dSZ9-oJUafuS3vrstf9R50fjIyHU34o6-5R_W3VUZ4pHRUKuaGkibqYKdT_MyhgQf2qZoTTDj-fAKNzvawNT-2ksVgCL4tLHyyBce_wtQieTOVseAbGHs3Y/s1600/Untitled26.png" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5TepVZ97TQSFqZIhly1coRwBQ-6IHqhWFh00AjAGp7Xk9P0EmPngXUR8bT1xybvQhzRKM_OMcynZGrEBDapbUk9ybDHVkaxKs4JNXI5hjKsLkFenFJviX5MenGmAEgIzvL2L2QnZrU-a8/s1600/Untitled36.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5TepVZ97TQSFqZIhly1coRwBQ-6IHqhWFh00AjAGp7Xk9P0EmPngXUR8bT1xybvQhzRKM_OMcynZGrEBDapbUk9ybDHVkaxKs4JNXI5hjKsLkFenFJviX5MenGmAEgIzvL2L2QnZrU-a8/s1600/Untitled36.png" width="320" /></a>The
objects they buy are significant in analyzing their relationship to the place
they find themselves in. Francis immediately sets about trying to find a power
adapter, which becomes a symbol of his inability to understand and relate to
his new environment without feeling the urge to change it, to artificially
translate it into something that he knows rather than adapting himself and his
needs to the situation. Peter buys shoes and a deadly, poisonous snake, and
Jack gets pepper spray. The latter two items come as a surprise, considering
the sheer hostility and violence inherent in them. One wonders if the brothers
are not, indeed, trying to protect themselves from this strange land and its
inhabitants, feeling threatened and in danger because of their contact with the
Other. Their behavior in the temple itself is hardly an improvement. Francis
offers Jack and Peter some rupees “to put in front of the deity here,” then
realizes Peter has borrowed his $6,000 belt and asks for it back before he
starts arguing with Jack about taking his passport, and Peter decides to go
“pray at a different thing.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Darjeeling Limited </i>brings up
questions of the authenticity of the brothers’ experience in a way that
negotiates some of the crucial ideological anxieties and contradictions around
traveling, most significantly the image of the undertaker of a journey as both
explorer and explored , simultaneously an active observer and what <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dimitris Eleftheriotis, in <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Cinematic-Journeys-Movement-Dimitris-Eleftheriotis/dp/0748649387/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1426724900&sr=1-1&keywords=eleftheriotis+cinematic+journeys"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Cinematic Journeys: Film and Movement</i></a>,
calls a “parcel” (77). In works such as Wolfgang Schivelbusch’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Railway Journey: Trains and Travel in
the 19<sup>th</sup> Century</i> and David Harvey’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Condition of Postmodernity: An Enquiry into the Origins of Cultural
Change</i>, modern means of transportation are discussed in the context of the
construction of a type of movement that seems to depersonalize, if not
annihilate, space itself, reducing the world to a series of destinations and
the traveler to a passive, indifferent package that is shipped and received. Taken
even further, the train itself, through its fixed, linear movement down the
tracks provides a narrow, neatly ordered and pre-planned version of travel that
is not conducive to the brothers’ emotional progress. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">This
reading of the Whitman brothers as parcels moved from one location to another
without any will of their own seems especially appropriate in the context of
Anderson’s work, in which the line between character and setting is so often
blurred. Stefano Baschiera has gone as far as to suggest Anderson in effect
overcomes the separation between subjects and objects, human and non-human
(118). As Thomas Dorey observes in “<a href="https://curve.carleton.ca/system/files/theses/30695.pdf">Wes Anderson: Contemporary Auteurism andDigital Technology</a>,”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the director links
his characters and the objects that surround them not only thematically, but
stylistically as well through<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the use of
his most easily recognizable visual signature, the inserted God’s-eye close-up.
Shot from above, the actors begin to look like objects themselves, their agency
removed as their authorial dominance undermined (68-71). In <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Darjeeling</i>, the most memorable of these
inserts happens not only when the brothers are at their lowest point—about to
be evicted from their temporary “home,” the train, but specifically while they
are fighting <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">about objects</i>, the
familiar things they have chosen to cling to for control and security in the
face of uncertainty, so much so that the first items they lose, Francis’s belt
and shoe, are not discarded willingly, but stolen from them.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnyRW68T6aHV-Cm5joivKpmlcJmT_OuLMxA5kJCaCf0-RUp2QjbyF5yUHhUHcIWvz7PFJ79wPZC_D9PD6HJ-gh0mTkBESFq2unku8PyS2DT75uoSctvjSu6qg_JaxIKJloR34Lbd_dnKwf/s1600/Picture2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnyRW68T6aHV-Cm5joivKpmlcJmT_OuLMxA5kJCaCf0-RUp2QjbyF5yUHhUHcIWvz7PFJ79wPZC_D9PD6HJ-gh0mTkBESFq2unku8PyS2DT75uoSctvjSu6qg_JaxIKJloR34Lbd_dnKwf/s1600/Picture2.jpg" width="320" /></a>Similarly,
it is not of their own free will that the brothers leave the luxury hotel on
wheels that is the Darjeeling Limited, making the film’s title superfluous.
Reprimanded like unruly children for bad behavior, they get kicked off in the
middle of the countryside, away from the security of laminated daily timetables
and of material comfort, “where they might enjoy the sort of unmediated
revelation you just can’t plan with TripAdvisor,” as Jonah Weiner writes in the
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.slate.com/">Slate</a> </i>article <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“<a href="http://www.slate.com/articles/arts/culturebox/2007/09/unbearable_whiteness.html">Unbearable Whiteness</a>: That Queasy Feeling You Get When
Watching a Wes Anderson Movie.” Although meant sarcastically, Weiner’s point
resonates with ideas of passivity and agency central to the understanding of
the tourist-traveler dichotomy. In the beginning of the film, we see Peter
ascend through the various classes of the train, passing—and probably, like
Murray’s character in the opening sequence, not noticing—the people and animals
on the train as he makes his way through the luggage car and coach before
arriving to the comparably lavish private sleeper that Francis has reserved for
the trip. This compartmentalization on the train only expands the gulf between
the Whitmans and the space around them as well as the people who inhabit it, supporting
the preservation of their individualism at the expense of community. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Only
when they leave the train and let go of its relative safety can they become
active participants in their own spiritual journey. Supposedly, the characters
have left the city to enter a diegetic world that goes against and beyond the
conventional, everyday, regulated and sheltered life at home, an environment
which the train only simulated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Following the brothers’ eviction is a long tracking shot of them walking
through a field at night; we come to realize this is the first time we’ve seen
them walking in the entire film, actively going through the most basic and
fundamental action of any journey instead of simply getting delivered to
different places by rail. In <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Getting-Back-into-Place-Second/dp/0253220882/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1426725583&sr=8-1&keywords=Getting+Back+into+Place%3A+Toward+a+Renewed+Understanding+of+the+Place-World"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Getting Backinto Place: Toward a Renewed Understanding of the Place-World</i></a>, Edward S.
Casey writes that “legwork is the main means by which a journey is
accomplished. Whether on a long-legged horse (e.g. Don Quixote and Sancho
Panza, or the legendary Crusaders) or literally on foot (e.g. Dante and
Virgil), the journey is made by maintaining bodily contact with the underlying
earth” (276). This contact with the earth, the literal touching of the ground
as they travel on foot in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Darjeeling</i>
also comes to represent a deeper connection with the space and land that the
characters travel. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Anderson
places the three brothers in situations which test their certainties,
preconceived ideas and beliefs, and their comfort. The change of environment
and the physical act of moving through space propels characters again and again
towards self-discovery, the exploration of new places revealing well-hidden
emotions, memories or traumas. This inadvertently brings to the forefront
anxieties of mastery and control as the travelers are pushed out of the comfort
and stability of the home (or the train) into unknown and uncertain
territories. Cees Nooteboom describes the fascination with the unknown, with
standing “at the edge of the Sahara” in <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Nomads-Hotel-Travels-Time-Space/dp/0156035359/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1426725604&sr=8-1&keywords=Nomad%E2%80%99s+Hotel%3A+Travels+in+Time+and+Space"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Nomad’sHotel: Travels in Time and Space</i></a> as “The same old sense of excitement. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Seeing things
you do not understand, signs you cannot read, a language you cannot fathom, a
religion you do not have any real conception of, a landscape which rebuffs,
lives you could not share…. The shock of the wholly unknown is one of gentle
sensuality…. And that makes this type of travel a pleasant sort of void, a
state of zero-gravity in which, although the self does not lose all
significance, a good deal does get written off…” (93-94)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3SaRtUqHJzZwnvBzOLv93HKpakAQG-qUGETHnQYdjnpotmpUGFdzI5YSzwAfBJh__FXQ3OkkOdwY2efMlqjmjvzIiRvY8GrkhP4JNkwpda_ar8Awnl4FXHNfftGRw_WMmzuqxSB8PmzCv/s1600/Picture1.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3SaRtUqHJzZwnvBzOLv93HKpakAQG-qUGETHnQYdjnpotmpUGFdzI5YSzwAfBJh__FXQ3OkkOdwY2efMlqjmjvzIiRvY8GrkhP4JNkwpda_ar8Awnl4FXHNfftGRw_WMmzuqxSB8PmzCv/s1600/Picture1.png" width="320" /></a>This
partial loss of self is expressed most obviously in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Darjeeling </i>in the characters’ renouncing of their possessions and
their decreasing levels of material comfort. At first, the brothers are
unwilling or unable to fully accept or become immersed into their new
surroundings, holding onto the familiar and the comfortable, namely their
belongings, which they lug around in their dead father’s suitcases, blatant,
boxy, bulky <a href="http://www.marcjacobs.com/">Marc Jacobs</a>-designed metaphors for emotional baggage. “There are
these sorts of talismans the brothers carry—things like a pair of sunglasses or
music box or the father’s luggage, and these various objects that a character
is placing around the room at a certain point,” Anderson has stated. “They
affix a meaning to each of those things. Sometimes when you’re traveling, you
do that. When you’re going to be away for a long time, I find you tend to put
the things you’ve decided are your familiar objects around you” (Seitz 205).
The sense of dislocation associated with the loss of a parent, the key trauma
of the three brothers, is only heightened in the film by the characters’ being
in motion, away from home, in a foreign country (Baschiera 127). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
expensive clothes and accessories the three brothers own not only display their
social status, but help the audience visualize their profound displacement in
this new environment. The color of the characters’ clothes, for the most part
muted and monochrome (gray, black, white, tan, and beige) stands in stark
contrasted to the exaggeratedly bright, supersaturated surroundings that burst
with warm, lively yellows, oranges, and reds and vivid greens and blues, an
imaginary, candy-colored cinematic India of the mind. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1vlPlFECASVY7Pw5fum3zjAq-VxWKNPGMarxXQG2OUn2jeK6JoE9T6PQRG2vGHxsPM7Zi6ymN-kj2uJvm6IVc0HIqcT4__IngL1L_Dfez0jHfUSsyGpFCYj-sCPxrWtyPeBmYDAgQjEVc/s1600/8kmykDxEK2kPhDjiPryuBFjj0MB.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1vlPlFECASVY7Pw5fum3zjAq-VxWKNPGMarxXQG2OUn2jeK6JoE9T6PQRG2vGHxsPM7Zi6ymN-kj2uJvm6IVc0HIqcT4__IngL1L_Dfez0jHfUSsyGpFCYj-sCPxrWtyPeBmYDAgQjEVc/s1600/8kmykDxEK2kPhDjiPryuBFjj0MB.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Anderson’s
carefully chosen color palette creates an environment that is brighter and more
enhanced than reality, imbuing the film with an often remarked upon “dollhouse”
or “chocolate box” effect that adds to the level of artifice even as it creates
a romanticized, fetishized view of the land; this is not a real country—the
same way none of the director’s other near-maniacally meticulous,
color-coordinated, carefully framed and trinket-filled worlds can be thought of
as realistic—but a foreign place accessed through (or made up of) completely
mediated images: <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0719756/">Jean Renoir</a>’s <a href="http://www.criterion.com/films/679-the-river"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The River</i></a>,
<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001501/?ref_=nv_sr_4">Louis Malle</a>’s documentaries, and the films of Satyajit Ray, a construction of place
that denotes a distinctly middle-class, Euro-centric nostalgia (Wilkins 35).
The train itself, like the titular location in Anderson’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hotel Chevalier</i>, suggests a past bourgeois era, as do a number of
different objects presented throughout the film: Jack’s girlfriend’s
Voltaire#6, a French haute couture perfume reminiscent of Chanel No. 5; the
father’s red Porsche, a German-produced model; the brothers’ expensive,
European-style suits. From an aesthetic perspective, at least, Anderson’s films
see products, travel and geography from a clearly Continental perspective. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
Whitmans’ individual quest for experience, truth, knowledge or meaning in and
of itself articulates distinctly Western/European and modern sensibilities
around mobility, vision and subjectivity. Eleftheriotis argues that<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>traveling, “as an essential tool of
scientific discovery and the extension of metropolitan imperial power on a
macro level, as a way to complete one’s education and acquire valuable cultural
capital on a personal level,” becomes indispensable not only in personal
pursuits of knowledge, accomplishment or pleasure, but also in providing access
to social and cultural power (77). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEpeffIbfP7CxM7sFBwv8xbNUCIcLnZCzwqq-om8xBIsAmQ7MShWqjS0qHkICHfPXGrz8GCI_gBk7MvxHh-cy4qe0NYdLPjZIu4yMPaUZCcXNNiyjlX08rnHmaJyEqTvKeTpuQqrFDdtAk/s1600/Picture6.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEpeffIbfP7CxM7sFBwv8xbNUCIcLnZCzwqq-om8xBIsAmQ7MShWqjS0qHkICHfPXGrz8GCI_gBk7MvxHh-cy4qe0NYdLPjZIu4yMPaUZCcXNNiyjlX08rnHmaJyEqTvKeTpuQqrFDdtAk/s1600/Picture6.png" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A
similar view comes across in Alphonso Lingis’ <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Community-Nothing-Studies-Continental-Thought/dp/0253208521"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Community of Those Who Have Nothing in Common</i></a>, which
articulates the author’s journeys and personal experiences, couching them in
the language of contemporary continental thought and, ultimately, crafting a
critique of Western rationalism that is as eloquent as it is devastating.<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>In his view, the individualistic,
materialistic Western community is built through the formation of a constructed
common discourse based on tradition, knowledge, observation, and theory that
create explanatory systems for the world around us. The typical image of the American
tourist, embodied most obviously in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Darjeeling
</i>through Murray’s character, can be directly tied to Lingis’ examination of
Western rationalism and materialism. The members of the rational community seek
to control the material environment, the world around them, through investing
their forces into industry and enterprises. When the Whitmans begin their
journey, every one of their actions is clearly charted through the detailed,
laminated itineraries; instead of offering the brothers a chance for exploration
or (self)discovery, this planned schedule adds up to nothing more than a series
of steps they have to work at and complete in order to finish the trip. This
method of travel, or more appropriately tourism, seeks to maintain the control
and familiarity of the characters’ life within the Western community they hail
from, as described by Lingis:</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">“We rationalists
perceive the reality of being members of a community in the reality of works
undertaken and realized; we perceive the community itself as a work…. In the
public works and monuments of North America we see inscribed the motivations
and goals of us North Americans; in our factories, airports, and highways we
see our reasoned choices among our needs and wants, and our plans. In our
system of laws and our social institutions, we recognize our formulated
experience, our judgment, our debated consensuses. In our rational collective
enterprises we find, in principle, nothing alien to us, foreign, and impervious
to understanding; we find ourselves” (Lingis 5-6). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Leaving
the security of home and venturing into the unknown carries with it a forsaking
of the systems and institutions in which the protagonists have previously found
themselves, as Lingis writes. “A potent factor of the undetermined, often of distinct
danger, attends the journeyer and eliminates the security of a predetermined
trajectory” (Casey 276).The train and the objects they carry represent the
Whitman brothers’ last attempts to hold onto the security of that which is
familiar, whereas the new environment they have entered, especially after
getting kicked off the Darjeeling and no longer passively moving through an
organized series of set destinations, is beyond their control, implying an
exposure to risk and vulnerability. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3cL1H9AG2sPODFCzEd4ndaGzq8lYDPtr5spYqrEHPGmh4JqyyjZZq0DhIAaGLsup26fa_I9A8UPBqTslThaBE2U9pTNAo8B7te8hQLYXmqixvqncF4LpFLDaRxoxEXdkFYDlC7Q9nZ9Zo/s1600/Untitled123.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3cL1H9AG2sPODFCzEd4ndaGzq8lYDPtr5spYqrEHPGmh4JqyyjZZq0DhIAaGLsup26fa_I9A8UPBqTslThaBE2U9pTNAo8B7te8hQLYXmqixvqncF4LpFLDaRxoxEXdkFYDlC7Q9nZ9Zo/s1600/Untitled123.png" width="400" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">There
is one other element in the <a href="http://www.movieweb.com/movie/the-darjeeling-limited/behind-the-scenes-the-temple-of-1000-bulls">Temple of the 1,000 Bulls scene</a> that is easy to
miss on a first viewing, but the sheer incongruity of which requires
consideration in this context. When Peter goes into another room to pray alone,
Anderson places a young boy holding a gun on the right side of a frame. The boy
occupies the outer edge of the frame, and the camera zooms in to a closer view
of the main character within seconds, cutting the child out of the composition,
but the gun remains, protruding within the frame, for the duration of the shot.
This could be read as a metaphor of Peter’s fear of his unborn child and a
reminder of his father’s death, the last thing mentioned before the scene cuts
to him, but I think there are deeper connotations to this sudden, unexplainable
presence of violence. Even more so than the mace and the cobra in the earlier
scene, the gun becomes symbolic of the threat of the Other, which, try as they
might, they cannot completely block out, and the constant danger that surrounds
the Whitmans in India, or any traveler in a new and unknown environment, and
the fear (and inevitability) of death. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
boy and the space he inhabits become one in this scene, to such an extent that
his presence is not easily noticeable at first. As Juhani Pallasma notes
regarding Andrei Tarkovsky’s work, characters do not appear as persons on an
architectural stage; “the space and the characters have been cast in the very
same matter, eroding towards its final destiny, a ‘horizontal death” (Pallasma
43). The same concept could be applied to Anderson’s film and this scene in
particular, in which the melding of character and space spells an awareness of
the inevitability of death. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
encounter with the Other, then, is explicitly dangerous in the way it
challenges and disrupts the traveler’s comfort and familiarity with a certain
way of life: “Before the rational community, there was the encounter with the
other, the intruder,” Lingis writes. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">“Beneath the
rational community… is another community, the community that demands that the
one who has his own communal identity, who produces his own nature, expose
himself to the one with whom he has nothing in common, the stranger. This <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">other community</i> is not simply absorbed
into the rational community; it recurs, it troubles the rational community, as
its double or its shadow. This <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">other
community</i> forms not in a work, but in the interruption of work and
enterprises. It is not realized in having or in producing something in common
but in exposing oneself to the one with whom one has nothing in common: to the
Aztec, the nomad, the guerilla, the enemy”(Lingis 10-11).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzN7jSbDTVt_Mqyq9jbX53n3f8IghyphenhyphenBQAqH5Lw3oUADXpWd78aZdqa3hMifJSs1pzS7sJgOg0EpIJcNxsDal_UUe5h6lR7WFuece351cjpdUz3jGXVWRjntQnaIR_pKR2PPfsQ0FY3L62C/s1600/Picture7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzN7jSbDTVt_Mqyq9jbX53n3f8IghyphenhyphenBQAqH5Lw3oUADXpWd78aZdqa3hMifJSs1pzS7sJgOg0EpIJcNxsDal_UUe5h6lR7WFuece351cjpdUz3jGXVWRjntQnaIR_pKR2PPfsQ0FY3L62C/s1600/Picture7.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
vulnerability an individual opens himself up to through<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>such an exchange stands at the heart of
Anderson’s film, the very notion of community implying a loss of self, of the
sense of individualism that the Whitman brothers, as Westerners, want to
cherish and protect. In forming a community with another, or the Other, the
characters must undoubtedly sacrifice something of themselves and relinquish
their security and control. “It is with the nakedness of one’s eyes that one
exposes oneself to the other,” Lingis continues, “with one’s hands arrested in
their grip on things and turned now to the other, open-handed, and with the
disarmed frailty of one’s voice troubled with the voice of another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One exposes oneself to the other—the stranger,
the destitute one, the judge—not only with one’s insights and one’s ideas, that
they may be contested, but one also exposes the nakedness of one’s eyes, one’s
voice and one’s silences, one’s empty hands. For the other, the stranger, turns
to one, not only with his or her convictions and judgments, but also with his
or her frailty, susceptibility, mortality…. Community forms when one exposes
oneself to the naked one, the destitute one, the outcast, the dying one. One
enters into community not by affirming oneself and one’s forces but by exposing
oneself to expenditure at a loss, to sacrifice. Community forms in a movement
by which one exposes oneself to the other, to forces and powers outside
oneself, to death and to the others who die” (Lingis 12)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Traveling
opens up new avenues of possibility, but it also makes the traveler more aware
of his or her helplessness in the face of danger and death. As Lingis writes,
“in every advance </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">across the
landscape which promises to support our steps toward the possibilities of
vision, across its open planes and paths leading to finalities, we sense the
possibility of promises turning out to be lures, its paths turning out to be
snares, and in contours harboring ambushes. It is advancing unto the
exteriority of our environment that we advance unto our death. Death is
everywhere in the interstices of the world, the abyss lies behind any of its
connections and beneath its paths” (Lingis 160)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
author of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Community of Those Who Have
Nothing in Common</i> actually takes as his point of departure the mortality
that unites all people across racial, religious, economic, geographic, and
linguistic barriers. Death becomes the one thing all of us have in common. Similarly,
Matt Zoller Seitz points out in his interview with Anderson the constant
presence of death or the fear of death as an equalizing force, “the great
leveler”(151). The gradual seeping in of a spiritual sensibility, in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Darjeeling</i>,<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>Seitz argues, is directly linked to the impact of death and the
awareness of mortality. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFkIIsshdZKymEvELznSjboElXoxTw4CXlFwjk2YlbV9Pkm0-_52_AXpUspBHZDjOkXjNsVv1nluiEgowBvdme3DEoHhw6YLnbNJnUBPVES28MUxGKUC_Zbk4Qozv6tguLE91reX7ioegn/s1600/63e07659-39bc-4697-a880-cb175c481b65.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFkIIsshdZKymEvELznSjboElXoxTw4CXlFwjk2YlbV9Pkm0-_52_AXpUspBHZDjOkXjNsVv1nluiEgowBvdme3DEoHhw6YLnbNJnUBPVES28MUxGKUC_Zbk4Qozv6tguLE91reX7ioegn/s1600/63e07659-39bc-4697-a880-cb175c481b65.jpeg" width="320" /></a>Pointing
to the long “dream train” tracking shot towards the end of the film, Seitz sees
all of the characters, assembled within different compartments of the train, as
fundamentally equal, whether they are rich or poor, because of their own
mortality. It is significant that all of the characters are placed, against all
laws of narrative logic, in the same space, and shown as connected through the
style as well as there are no cuts between the different compartments. The
tiger in the bushes at the end of the sequence then then becomes an embodiment
of death, Anderson’s grim reaper, a constant reminder of danger and the
inevitability of the characters—and our—own demise, something we can neither
predict nor control, something which is always lurking, on the loose as the
tiger itself in Anderson’s film.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
most obvious turning point for Peter, Jack, and Francis’s trip, occurs exactly
at the moment in which they come in direct contact with death, and their journey
and the film both take a sharp tonal turn. This change, portrayed in the river
scene, is announced with an abrupt, shaky hand-held zoom onto Francis’s face as
he unceremoniously announces, “Look at those assholes” while peering towards
three boys trying to cross a fast-flowing river. The boys’ raft overturns, and
the Whitmans race to save the boys. Anderson’s camerawork here has a
destabilizing effect on the viewers; we are momentarily jolted and made aware
of an abrupt transition. The potential to shock and displace of this zoom is
just one example of Anderson’s mirroring, through the movement in and of the
frame, of the shock and displacement of the characters’ journey.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Movements
of exploration and tropes of revelation are separated into two distinct
categories in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Cinematic Journeys</i>: 1)
slow, steady movements that explore space, discover significant objects and
lead to dramatic revelations, which seem to echo the perception of change as a
steady progression that gradually and incrementally unlocks the mysteries of
the world; and 2) fast and unsettling movements that reveal a key dramatic
object or narrative situation that echo moments of discovery as revolutions
which alter the course of knowledge, destabilizing certainties, revising
narrative trajectories and challenging the perceptions of characters and/or
viewers (Eleftheriotis 77-81). The brothers’ journey in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Darjeeling</i> falls into the latter category. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgohp6aRksdxL5R0kiMmRcCTYMUb2qOZa7mKXaMzeu59Y3JnYwsFbmNpJEUmi4xVvaXIFsOByGnKO_Wo_s-56OTMomPbEjCHMMDWqatltV0wIZCLgev3acl824uvj9ax9NTocUMaoVCdjAJ/s1600/Picture4.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgohp6aRksdxL5R0kiMmRcCTYMUb2qOZa7mKXaMzeu59Y3JnYwsFbmNpJEUmi4xVvaXIFsOByGnKO_Wo_s-56OTMomPbEjCHMMDWqatltV0wIZCLgev3acl824uvj9ax9NTocUMaoVCdjAJ/s1600/Picture4.png" width="400" /></a>In
the river scene, the abrupt displacement of the exaggerated, rapid camera
movement towards the characters marks a radical shift in both the movie’s tone
and the progression of the characters’ emotional journey, an instance in which
their and our expectations are challenged. The unexpected, drastic tonal shift
of the scene, which James MacDowell links to the “quirky sensibility” of the
new American smart cinema, here takes on a narrative function, the switch to a
more serious mood after the boy’s death reflecting the characters’ realization
that they need to change as well (14-17). The characters’ immersion into the
Ganges River, a life-giving body of water that has been revered by millions in
India as a symbol of spiritual purity for over two millennia, becomes a symbol
of baptism and renewal directly tied to the historical and cultural
significance of the film’s setting. “Man becomes pure by the touch of the
water, or by consuming it, or by expressing its name,” Lord Vishnu, the
four-armed “All Pervading One,” proclaimed in the Ramayana, the Sanscrit epic
poem composed four centuries before Christ (Hammer). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">This
is not to say the scene is not problematic in its depiction and role of the
three Indian boys. The first two are recovered safely, but Peter has trouble
with the third. He emerges further downstream, carrying a limp body. “He’s
dea—He’s dead,” he stammers. “I didn’t save mine.” The child becomes, in this
dry formulation, almost like an object or a lost pet, and we must wonder
whether he exists solely to provide impetus for these privileged white Americans.
“Turns out that a dead Indian boy was all the brothers were missing,” Weiner
writes. “This isn’t just heavy-handed,” he continues; “it’s offensive. In a
grisly little bit of developing-world outsourcing, the child does the
bothersome work of dying so that the American heroes won’t have to die
spiritually.” In this and other instances, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Darjeeling
</i>has been harshly criticized for its flat, fetishized and romanticized
depiction of India and its people as conduits or tools for white fulfilment;
the brothers are going through something akin to a rehabilitation program with
India serving as the clinic, and “an entire race and culture turned into
therapeutic scenery” (Weiner). Critical literature on the road movie points out
that the cultural significance of any journey is inextricably linked to the
geographical and historical specificity of the traveled space (Eleftheriotis
101). The question has to be raised, whether Anderson is simply using India as
shorthand for spirituality without ever engaging with the land or its people in
any meaningful way. Is he mocking the brothers’ fetishistic attitudes or simply
displaying his own? </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvzhSTcvoY833o_BQpqLHyDe4o5inmGc16LBRcizkz0KSfxyGZ24lLg4yYcbih7VrhNwpUu5Cq13uVzxO3FVTZCWUjvd_bj-mqEZ_WC7V93hwGYSIjh7O6O_xVt9Hxdb4SZfhaWujnU7W/s1600/Picture3.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvzhSTcvoY833o_BQpqLHyDe4o5inmGc16LBRcizkz0KSfxyGZ24lLg4yYcbih7VrhNwpUu5Cq13uVzxO3FVTZCWUjvd_bj-mqEZ_WC7V93hwGYSIjh7O6O_xVt9Hxdb4SZfhaWujnU7W/s1600/Picture3.png" width="320" /></a>There
are, moments—such as when Francis grandly declares, “I love these people,”
seconds after a shoeshine boy has run off with one of his $3,000 loafers—or
when Peter says, “I love how this country smells; it’s … spicy”—in which the
irony-laced portrayal of the characters’ words and actions bespeaks a critique
of the Western view of travel, and of colonialism itself, most obviously in the
choice of Joe Dassin’s “Aux Champs-Elysee” for the end credits sequence. But
the most significant way in which Anderson moves beyond simply using the people
and culture of the film’s setting as a stereotypical, simplified, and
caricatured representation of non-Western spirituality come in his depiction of
the dead boy’s funeral. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">There
is nothing funny or ironic in Anderson’s view of the Indian funeral, the entire
ritual played, with almost surprising sincerity, for pathos. The scene prior to
the funeral, in which the dead boy’s father bathes his body while the Americans
wait for their bus, displays a seemingly sincere respect, and even admiration,
for the proceedings. The level of artifice in Anderson’s style seems to drop
momentarily as the soundtrack changes to incorporate quiet, realistic sounds of
the natural environment. It is as if the whole movie takes a step back and
waits in silence for the funeral to begin as the Whitmans start to interact
with the Indian characters in an atmosphere of hushed, unhurried simplicity. This
might be the longest stretch of any of Anderson’s works in which there is
absolutely no dialogue and no hint of self-consciousness or ironic
distanciation from the characters, their surroundings, or the audience. For the
first time the brothers forego their usual attire in favor of traditional
Indian clothing, starting to become immersed in their environment. Long
tracking shots connect the Whitmans with the native community in mourning, and,
when they get on the bus to leave and the dead boy’s brother comes after them
to invite them to stay for the funeral, the camera zooms in on him in as it had
done on the American brothers throughout the rest of the film. For the first
time, Anderson is “looking” at the Indian characters the same way he has his
protagonists. They are all on the same plane, no longer separated through the
framing, cutting, or, as in the scenes at the temple or on the train, production
design and physical placement of the actors within the frame. When Francis
stoops to tell his brothers that they are invited to the funeral, he again addresses
the camera directly, as he did when he explained his expectations of the
Whitman’s trip. This time however, the gesture doesn’t seem as self-conscious,
and it definitely is not played for laughs. Perhaps this is Anderson’s way of
including the viewers into the proceedings of the Indian ritual and inviting
us, as well, to participate as quiet and respectful observers.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-pWICSsdH74m-Fxlxleo50sUQ9OVL2s7rpQ3Lgmkg5MTPtIcSaRzu_9CRU3-cQPUSG0XKav7i4tL0XdjBvf4J9tFMVDwKM-qwgis4G0Oq3aD5Qh11L9t7hr4b_cXG3d1Yvqi1MF6Cu5dP/s1600/2.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-pWICSsdH74m-Fxlxleo50sUQ9OVL2s7rpQ3Lgmkg5MTPtIcSaRzu_9CRU3-cQPUSG0XKav7i4tL0XdjBvf4J9tFMVDwKM-qwgis4G0Oq3aD5Qh11L9t7hr4b_cXG3d1Yvqi1MF6Cu5dP/s1600/2.png" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2gJF2UtPcewF31_SWf68WPtHymr8RK7hFuEaYP05ULhsEjadFXVUSiFeJtwcPFDw7PEMZgwLMsEEVh97Y1JKtOyxciDoP6UulPq0g3qbNFyYZyRnS-WupMWNwEyRgpRrEvNvibtM4t-E1/s1600/0493650_46418_MC_Tx360.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2gJF2UtPcewF31_SWf68WPtHymr8RK7hFuEaYP05ULhsEjadFXVUSiFeJtwcPFDw7PEMZgwLMsEEVh97Y1JKtOyxciDoP6UulPq0g3qbNFyYZyRnS-WupMWNwEyRgpRrEvNvibtM4t-E1/s1600/0493650_46418_MC_Tx360.jpg" width="320" /></a>The
Indian funeral and that of the Whitmans’ father are combined as the director
flashes back to a year prior, cutting from a three-shot of the brothers in
India, dressed in white, to the near negative-image of the scene, an
identically framed shot of the three characters, all in black, on their way to
the American funeral. The differences between the two settings is stark, the
funeral in India bright, open, and inclusive in comparison to the tense and
almost claustrophobic scenes of the Whitmans in the car and the dealership on
their way to bury their father. We never see this funeral, instead only getting
a glimpse of the brothers driving there. Peter insists on picking up the father’s
car at Luftwaffe Automotive before the funeral, frantically trying to restart
the red Porsche even though the battery is dead, an obvious attempt to not let
go of his father. All three brothers want desperately to go to the funeral in
their father’s car, asserting that it has to be done that way; they are
clinging to the significance and security of objects and rituals to create the
illusion of control. In contrast, the Indian funeral flows naturally and offers
a much stronger sense of closure and fulfilment, the moment suggesting an
emotional undercurrent that binds the brothers with the villagers through grief
(<a href="http://brightlightsfilm.com/74/74darjeeling_stephenson.php-.U_fvX0vVtGg">Stephenson</a>). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It
is interesting to note that most everything throughout the movie is only
presented in bits and parts, and often portrays characters in motion. The film
starts with Murray in the car, then moves to the train, from which the brothers
are soon evicted, includes the incomplete memory of the father’s funeral, the
car ride and the failed resurrection of another car, finally ending as the
brothers board another train—it is clear the characters find themselves in a
state of in-betweenness, of arrested development, unable to move on or even to
adequately mourn their loss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Characters
haunted, if not stunted, by mourning are a hallmark of Anderson’s work, but in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Darjeeling</i>, more than any other of the
director’s films, we are able to discern the characters’ progression towards
fulfilment, a process that significantly involves the formation of a new
community. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
only event we witness from beginning to end is the Indian funeral, which starts
the Whitman’s healing process and links them to the native villagers. The
Kinks’ “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E-_4lthx_8E">Strangers</a>” hints at the characters’ embracing of uncertainty and a new
way of thinking (“I’ve killed my world and I’ve killed my time/ So where do I
go, what do I see?”), respect for a different, pointedly less selfish,
materialistic, and individualistic way of life and a sense of connection with
the Other (“So I will follow you wherever you go/ If your offered hand is still
open to me/ Strangers on this road we are on/ We are not two we are one… So we
will share this road we walk/ And mind our mouths and beware our talk/ Till
peace we find tell you what I’ll do/ All the things I own I will share with you/
If I feel tomorrow like I feel today/ We’ll take what we want and give the rest
away/ Strangers on this road we are on/We are not two we are one”).</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Francis,
Jack, and Peter must open themselves up to the Other in a way that goes beyond
mere surface and recognize the humanity and subjectivity of the people
surrounding them. “To recognize the other,” Lingis writes, “is to respect the
other” (23). The author makes a distinction between a depth-perception and a
surface-sensitivity to the other. Depth-perception extends beyond a superficial
encounter so one can envision “the road the other has traveled, the obstacles
he has cleared, the heat of the sun he is fleeting” (23). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwAFqtp0Bs7HElcB9FLmbuODg99SR3xPq08ohk3YdlQNV2LHlOdIKA84mnJxyWckqP1M-ltceQLqu0t1VtCm3ETpAvpWX2J72yscOTFZ71TF7LSt8EDwS9DbSldk29mQJgomrtKu7BVlCS/s1600/39.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwAFqtp0Bs7HElcB9FLmbuODg99SR3xPq08ohk3YdlQNV2LHlOdIKA84mnJxyWckqP1M-ltceQLqu0t1VtCm3ETpAvpWX2J72yscOTFZ71TF7LSt8EDwS9DbSldk29mQJgomrtKu7BVlCS/s1600/39.jpg" width="320" /></a>To
recognize and accept these things is to begin to understand another person in
his or her own environment and to accept and embrace the experiences he or she
has lived through and try to see the world from the other’s point of view, not
only through its position in the physical world but through a deep engagement
with a different cultural coding that is inseparable from this perception
(24-29). It is at this level that the characters can start to understand and
connect with the suffering of another, which can only be grasped when one gives
oneself over to abandon and vulnerability, not to control or change it but
simply to partake in it, as they do in the funeral scene. “This sensitivity
extends not to order the course and heal the substance of the other, but to
feel the feeling of the other” (31). This encounter is always disruptive and,
hence, transformative: the other’s “approach contests my environment, my
practicable layout, and my social arena…. Her approach commands an
understanding that arises out of the sensitivity that is afflicted by her
suffering” (34). The formation of a community with the Other goes beyond the
obligations implied by kinship, a kinship that extends past family resemblance
to incorporate not only one’s lineage, but one’s clan, people, or race. Beyond
the recognition of kinship with those who are like oneself there is another
kind of community, the brotherhood of individuals who possess or produce
nothing in common, “individuals destitute in their mortality” (Lingis 157). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">This
community is real not in the exchange on insights, directions, or resources,
but of the life of different individuals, a community in death. To create this
kind of community, “we should have to find ourselves, or put ourselves through
imagination, in a situation at the farthest limits of kinship—a situation in
which one finds oneself in a country with which one’s own is at war, among
foreigners bound in a religion that one cannot believe or which excludes one,
with whom one is engaged in no kind of productive or commercial dealings, who
owe one nothing, who do not understand a word of one’s language” (Lingis 157-58). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
description above is strikingly similar to the situation the Whitman brothers
find themselves in throughout <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Darjeeling Limited</i>. But, despite all odds, by the end of the film Francis
and his brothers have managed, clumsily and perhaps unexpectedly, just what
they set out to accomplish, a spiritual journey. “I guess I still have some
healing to do,” Francis ventures after he unwraps his head and the three
characters study his battered face in a bathroom mirror. “You’re getting there,
though,” Jack says, while Peter comments, “Anyway, it’s definitely going to add
a lot of character to you.” The obvious couching of emotional ailments in terms
of physical scars notwithstanding, these statements stand true in regard to all
three protagonists. The Whitmans still have some healing to do, but their
pilgrimage has served as an awakening to the need for change. Like all of the
flawed but ultimately redeemable characters of Anderson’s work, the Whitman
brothers start off their typically narcissistic journey concerned only with
their singular, superficial, stubborn, and selfish vision; eventually, they
learn to channel and their actions to move towards collective fulfillment. Traveling
encourages the characters to look inside themselves even as they relinquish
their individuality and need for control to become part of a group in mourning
and align more closely with the environment. Moving away from Western
rationalism and materialism, they undergo a journey of exploration, discovery,
and revelation not only of the world, the land, and its inhabitants, but also,
fundamentally, of the self.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGFo2art_ksuDgZy5QVPgVMS-lKvXER2DIQuzDRZe4uGvrHmQymhePSHIuvooZ6GCRa1kyMO2h_s2fqW9vObgmq3LZAldaY7NNBPokJyTCJeiPKBWoLsQOK-8IuUSbQE5PJ1H4MkxFo1wa/s1600/968full-the-darjeeling-limited-screenshot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGFo2art_ksuDgZy5QVPgVMS-lKvXER2DIQuzDRZe4uGvrHmQymhePSHIuvooZ6GCRa1kyMO2h_s2fqW9vObgmq3LZAldaY7NNBPokJyTCJeiPKBWoLsQOK-8IuUSbQE5PJ1H4MkxFo1wa/s1600/968full-the-darjeeling-limited-screenshot.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Works Cited</b></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Baschiera,
Stefano. “Nostalgically Man Dwells on This Earth: Objects and Domestic Space in
</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Royal Tenenbaums</i>
and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Darjeeling Limited</i>.” <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">New Review of Film and Television Studies</i>.
10.1 (2012): 118–31.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Casey, Edward S. Getting Back into
Place: Toward a Renewed Understanding of the Place</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">World</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">. </span>Bloomington :
Indiana University Press, 1993. Print.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dorey,
Thomas. “Wes Anderson: Contemporary Auteurism and Digital Technology.” Masters</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">thesis,
Carleton University, 2009. Web.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://curve.carleton.ca/system/files/theses/30695.pdf">https://curve.carleton.ca/system/files/theses/30695.pdf</a>.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Eleftheriotis, Dimitris. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Cinematic Journeys: Film and Movement</i>. Edinburgh: Edinburgh</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small; mso-bookmark: citation;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">University Press, 2010. </span></span><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: xx-small; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Print.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Gibbs, John. “Balancing Act:
Exploring the Tone of <i>The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou</i>.” <i>New</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Review of Film
and Television Studies </i>10, no. 1 (2012): 132–51.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Hammer,
Joshua. “A Prayer for the Ganges.” Wordfocus.com. Web. 9 Dec. 2014.</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></i><a href="http://www.wordfocus.com/word-ganges.html">http://www.wordfocus.com/word-ganges.html</a><i> </i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>Harvey, David. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Condition of Postmodernity: An Enquiry into the Origins of Cultural</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Change</i>. Oxford, Blackwell, 1990. Print.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lingis, Alphonso. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Community of Those Who Have Nothing in Common</i>. Bloomington :</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Indiana
University Press, 1994.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: xx-small; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">MacDowell, James. “Wes Anderson,
Tone and the Quirky Sensibility.” <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">New
Review of Film and</i></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Television Studies</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">.10.1
(2012): 6-27. </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Nooteboom, Cees. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Nomad’s Hotel: Travels in Time and Space</i>. London: Vintage Press,
2007.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">P<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: xx-small; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">allasmaa,
Juhani. “Lived Space in Architecture and Cinema.” <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Architecture of Image:</i></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Existential
Space in Cinema</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">: 13-36. Helskinki: Rakennustieto,
2001.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sallis, John. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Topographies</i>, Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University
Press, 2006. Print.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Schiverbusch, Wolfgang. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Railway Journey: Trains and Travel in
the 19<sup>th</sup> Century</i>. Oxford:</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Blackwell, 1980.
Print.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Seitz, Matt Zoller and Wes Anderson. <i>The
Wes Anderson Collection</i>. New York: Harry N</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Abrams Incorporated,
2013.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Stephenson,
Barry. “Filled with Ritual: Wes Anderson’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Darjeeling Limited</i>.” <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bright Lights</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Film
Journal</i>.
74 (2011): n. pag. Web. 15 Sept. 2014. <<a href="http://brightlightsfilm.com/74/74darjeeling_stephenson.php-.U_fvX0vVtGg">http://brightlightsfilm.com/74/74darjeeling_stephenson.php-.U_fvX0vVtGg</a>> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: xx-small; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Weiner, Jonah. “Unbearable
Whiteness: That Queasy Feeling You Get When Watching a Wes</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: xx-small; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Anderson Movie.” <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Slate</i>, 2007. Web.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.slate.com/articles/arts/culturebox/2007/09/unbearable_whiteness.html"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">http://www.slate.com/articles/arts/culturebox/2007/09/unbearable_whiteness.html</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: xx-small; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Wilkins, Kim. “Cast of Characters:
Wes Anderson and Pure Cinematic Characterization.” <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The</i></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Films of Wes Anderson: Critical
Essays on an Indiewood Icon</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">. Ed.
Peter C. Kunze, 25-38. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2014.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUU0EmkrAj9l_1-RXqEVRqJX8MoUM-vOJw6NbHLT6hCiAKqajx-eWsIWrX3hOrYy0VNS7A2BEhHe9CvFRTkqmPUQTyApYge9jaJ-_DKS33ha7r5zluUbHwAua2EBvuhw8R9te69dQopObt/s1600/hero_EB20060406REVIEWS60403003AR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUU0EmkrAj9l_1-RXqEVRqJX8MoUM-vOJw6NbHLT6hCiAKqajx-eWsIWrX3hOrYy0VNS7A2BEhHe9CvFRTkqmPUQTyApYge9jaJ-_DKS33ha7r5zluUbHwAua2EBvuhw8R9te69dQopObt/s1600/hero_EB20060406REVIEWS60403003AR.jpg" height="266" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/2014/07/life-itself-2014.html">Roger Ebert</a> opens <a href="http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/brick-2006">his review</a> of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0426059/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Rian Johnson</a>’s debut feature <i>Brick</i> (2005) with the following quote
from Elaine May’s <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0067482/?ref_=nv_sr_1"><i>A New Leaf</i></a>: “<span>You have preserved in your own lifetime,
sir, a way of life that was dead before you were born.” The line is more than
appropriate, considering <i>Brick</i></span> is, in a surprisingly
straightfaced manner, carrying on in its own lifetime a style of film that was
dead long before it was born. At the same time, the depth of feeling and
sincerity that runs through the film makes it seem utterly, breathlessly alive.
In part nostalgic for a time and a style long passed, in part playing with and
updating the conventions of the classic <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/film%20noir">noir</a>, Johnson’s film t<span>ransposes the snaking plots and sneaky moods
of gritty detective fiction to a contemporary high school—90210 goes noir, or
what we would imagine a <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/music/8836073/David-Lynch-mild-at-heart.html">David Lynch</a> or <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/The%20Coen%20Brothers">Coen brothers</a> reimagining of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x2AxfjxwFxw"><i>Heathers</i></a>
might look like. </span></span></span>
<br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span>The movie, which hums with
constant menace and sparks with hipster slang, </span>was awarded the <a href="http://www.sundance.org/festivals/sundance-film-festival">Sundance Film Festival</a>’s Special Jury Prize for Originality of Vision in 2005—and,
whether or not you can take its premise seriously, there is no denying it is a
work of originality and vision. <i>Brick</i>
is an intriguing experiment in determination that unashamedly demands your
attention, “one of those movies than seems not made but born—a small
masterpiece that’s perfectly strange and strangely perfect” (Patterson). <span>The combination is surprising, but what is
even more surprising is the extent to which it works. The question begs to be
raised, why is the <a href="http://www.salon.com/2002/07/31/chandler/">Hammet-Chandler</a> school so readily compatible with actual
school?</span></span></span></div>
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<a name='more'></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiYdQozpMe41iCz8LZDbqS2zPzFSdBIgaCTyElIbtNQMfk3v7RpdXhHXsyVS4KbtyYO36sma_3yPO44NyRQGyd-lITylLGdwgHtpNV59WH2nT8nxKvih6kh5rPDZywHJOJDAgzbP-1Ng8-/s1600/2005_brick_opening.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiYdQozpMe41iCz8LZDbqS2zPzFSdBIgaCTyElIbtNQMfk3v7RpdXhHXsyVS4KbtyYO36sma_3yPO44NyRQGyd-lITylLGdwgHtpNV59WH2nT8nxKvih6kh5rPDZywHJOJDAgzbP-1Ng8-/s1600/2005_brick_opening.jpg" height="174" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The film starts with the hero, high school loner Brendan, finding the
body of a former girlfriend discarded in a drainage ditch—shades of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0071315/?ref_=nv_sr_1"><i>Chinatown</i></a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0098936/?ref_=nv_sr_1"><i>Twin Peaks</i></a>—as distant footsteps announce the possible killer, or
perhaps merely a witness, running away. In flashback, we see Emily, the girl,
had asked Brendan for his help two days prior to her murder, then disappeared.
These are the facts available to the protagonist when he turns into a typical
1930s gumshoe, singling out potential players in the crime as he retraces the
steps of the victim straight into a web of drugs, death, and deceit that lurks
just beneath the surface of this sunny Southern California suburb.<span> </span>Like the best noirs, <i>Brick</i> isn’t about the resolution to the
murder making logical sense as much as it is about it making sense to the
characters, and about the atmosphere, the situations, and the mannered behavior
and language of these characters. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">From the hipster slang of 1950s and ‘60s rock ‘n’ roll movies to the
elaborate argot deployed by Alex and his droogs in <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0098936/?ref_=nv_sr_1"><cite>A Clockwork Orange</cite></a>,
cinema has made frequent use of colloquial language to illustrate the
separation of adolescents from the grown-up world, and <i>Brick</i> fits nicely—if somewhat unexpectedly—into that long
tradition, except now it’s kids playing at hard-edged, grownup chatter. As Todd
McCarthy points out in <a href="http://variety.com/2005/film/reviews/brick-1200528374/">his review</a>, it is at first “mildly disconcerting to hear
’30s slang (‘Why’d you take a powder the other night?’) and recycled detective
dialogue being spouted by casual-looking California teenagers… [but]
eventually, the mode of delivery becomes downright refreshing, as it forces the
kids to speak in crisp, precise and extremely articulate complete sentences.” <span>With a few notable exceptions—such as when
the main character barks a hardboiled speech to the vice principal (“</span>No
more of these informal chats! If you have a disciplinary issue with me, write
me up or suspend me.”) and ends with, “Otherwise, I’ll see you at the parent
conference” or when the threat of drug ring violence is temporarily abated by
an impervious mom fussing around junior murderers and thugs with corn flakes
and country-style apple juice—<i>Brick</i>
places words that seem to flow directly from pulp pages into the mouths of
high-schoolers entirely without mockery or condescension. When the main
character confronts a gang of stoners (“I got all five senses and I slept last
night. That puts me six up on the lot of you.)” or, directly quoting Bogart’s
Sam Spade, stands up to his teenage <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/2013/05/sex-shadows-and-sin-on-celluloid-femme.html"><i>femme fatale</i></a> (“Now you are dangerous.”), he doesn’t act as if he thinks his
behavior is funny or out of place. While the director and the audience are
fully, humorously aware of the contrivance of children spouting Chandleresque
vernacular in clipped, over-determined cadence, the actors inhabit the
hyperbolic world Johnson creates without feeling the need to wink at the
audience or place their tongues in their cheeks.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“Lunch,” one of Johnson’s teenage character muses, “lunch is a lot of
things; lunch is difficult.” On its face, the line skirts self-parody, but
seeing dewy young actors striking the poses of hardboiled demimondaines,
desperadoes and dolls got me thinking about the unexpected ways these
(seemingly) most incompatible of genres—the noir and the high school teen
comedy—can share common ground. As Troy Patterson observes in <a href="http://www.slate.com/articles/arts/movies/2006/05/school_of_noir.html">his review</a>,
“given the deep alienation, byzantine intrigues, and odd alliances on offer
during your average high-school lunch period, it’s an ideal setting for a
noir.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">This kind of story, even when it plays out not in the nighttime big
city of Hollywood’s imagination, but in high school parking lots under the
preposterously sunny skies, against the wide-open spaces of San Clemente, still
works because it has an unshakeable internal logic. The knight in shining armor
must walk down these mean streets; he must act like a criminal, enter the
underworld, get himself beaten up, outsmart everyone, and, finally, give us the
pleasures of sin and of justice at the same time. It’s not coincidental that
all of this sounds a bit like coming of age in—and surviving—high school, a
world similarly governed by its own logic (Segal). “I was inspired to do a
detective movie in a surprising environment, somewhere you couldn’t just lean
back on your preconceptions about men wearing hats,” Johnson said in an
interview. “It occurred to me that the criminal underworld is a microcosm unto
itself, where everything is about the social caste system. Well, that describes
high school exactly” (qtd. in Clarke). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">To begin with, the high school movie’s cast of characters is in no way
less archetypal or hermetic than that of film noir, and <i>Brick</i> expertly navigates the connections, similarities and
substitutions. One by one, Johnson ticks off the character types we’ve come to
expect in noir; what struck me is the extent to which these fit the character
types we expect in teen pics: the innocent, insecure girl in need of
protection; a series of dippy dames, perennially in costume for the school
plays, the band of popular girls at school that in classic noir would have been
golddiggers, nightclub singers or bar-flies; the school principal, a
well-meaning but oblivious representative of official authority embodied by the
police chief in old private eye films; a mysterious, eccentric crime lord
(complete with a cape, a limp, and a cane with an imitation duck’s head on its
handle) known as the Pin and his band of apish enforcers, here a curious mix of
jocks and stoners; and the detective’s quiet but capable helper, an extra set
of eyes and ears that might have been an informant, bookie or newspaperman in
the forties but here is a nerd that seems to permanently lean against the back
wall of the school, seeing and hearing everything without ever getting noticed.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">But it’s the world-weary, wise-cracking Brendan himself, played by
<a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Joseph%20Gordon-Levitt">Joseph Gordon-Levitt </a>with a tenacious scowl and superlative slouch, that
cinches the connection between hardboiled and highs school. The typical alienated
teen, a loner and an outsider, was never far off from the private eye in early
noirs; they are both romantic heroes with a personal ethical code and an unwavering
moral compass.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj__yFklBHtGIq9NO7YT6zMgZq5vJjO_BrkQ-OTz8mbJWBaZFco3FcMo2dvOLCCENdz6hrzfoxBexNi-_EMsN3W9fT2sVZmUK4hCiB7_lSh_h4i0dqRNLA-l6AaEF1yqpM8thobvIu0bGdm/s1600/levitt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj__yFklBHtGIq9NO7YT6zMgZq5vJjO_BrkQ-OTz8mbJWBaZFco3FcMo2dvOLCCENdz6hrzfoxBexNi-_EMsN3W9fT2sVZmUK4hCiB7_lSh_h4i0dqRNLA-l6AaEF1yqpM8thobvIu0bGdm/s1600/levitt.jpg" height="231" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The gumshoe’s disgust in the face of spiraling moral turpitude is
blended, in Brendan, with the adolescent’s fear of growing up and joining the
corrupt world of adults, and the resulting mix makes for sympathy more often
than hilarity. <i>Brick</i>, through the
circumlocution of noir cliché, foregrounds the strange, artificial atmosphere
that permeates all school hallways and classrooms (D’Angelo 59). The situations
and the talk in the film may be a joke, but the emotions are real—“we’re in
high school, where friendships and loyalty, and who’s tough and who’s cool,
count for everything” (Denby 89) </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In the end, the film is too sensitive and perfectly attuned to the
self-enclosed, self-regulating society occupied by teenagers to be passed over
as an emptied out stylization or postmodern pastiche. What it borrows from <cite>noir</cite><i> </i>is not simply a set of conventions, but
a sense of obsessiveness, solemnity and encroaching social breakdown. The film
uses its melodramatic plot to replicate the life-or-death significance and
angst that characterizes subjective adolescent experience. There’s something
almost unbearably poignant about the sense of grim purpose that envelopes the
movie, about its juxtaposition of the byzantine codes of pulp fiction and the
question of where to sit at lunch. Johnson, who started writing the screenplay
for <i>Brick </i>when he was still in high
school, has made a rare movie, one willing to acknowledge that life never seems
more momentous, perplexing, and fraught with danger than it does at 17.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHO04nf8ZLofVN8-SHavNdpra81Gn5Rn7OB9FhGTlHzVGbfJbZ3atErR_VRp3qBZa6aVMM868Bf2mSNqog08BPXK_AkE-_uSD0P80yPaBZX_mXtynaG6g04wUYkMJd_1LMqy0oTf-n70ZO/s1600/large_brick_blu-ray_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHO04nf8ZLofVN8-SHavNdpra81Gn5Rn7OB9FhGTlHzVGbfJbZ3atErR_VRp3qBZa6aVMM868Bf2mSNqog08BPXK_AkE-_uSD0P80yPaBZX_mXtynaG6g04wUYkMJd_1LMqy0oTf-n70ZO/s1600/large_brick_blu-ray_3.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Bibliography</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Bronski, Michael. “Through the Celluloid.” <i>Guide</i> 26.6 (2006):
66-67. <i>LGBT Life with Full</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Clarke, Donald. “When High-School Flick Meets Hard-Boiled Film Noir.” <i>Irish
Times</i> 13 May</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">2006: <i>Newspaper Source</i>. Web. 19 Mar. 2015.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Denby, David. “Tobacco and Drugs.” <i>New Yorker</i> 82.7 (2006):
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Ebert, Roger. “Brick.” <i>Rogerebert.com</i>,
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/brick-2006">http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/brick-2006</a></span></span>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Hightower, Erickia. “Moviemaking Madness.” <i>Hollywood Scriptwriter</i>
26.2 (2006): 30-31.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>International Bibliography of Theatre & Dance
with Full Text</i>. Web. 19 Mar. 2015.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">McCarthy, Todd. “Review: ‘Brick.’” <i>Variety.com</i>,
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="http://variety.com/2005/film/reviews/brick-1200528374/">http://variety.com/2005/film/reviews/brick-1200528374/</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Patterson, Troy. “School of Noir.” <i>Slate</i>,
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Segal, Victoria. “Too Cool for School.” <i>New Statesman</i> 135.4793
(2006): 48. <i>Literary</i></span></span><br />
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Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-71089744555231042852015-03-24T20:31:00.000-04:002015-03-24T20:32:49.707-04:00ATLFF'15: What I'm Excited About (Part II)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRPOuz7wEaKCEJNaLg8e0jj5Lgo0IsVvkbpNyHFuwPVM9VfUox6-E8o9Vo6MLC0eFXf4in5RqGfbd0b8BK_3pMgzs7aKltrLSkNrnwuX0qJOX9I5k-cZAIc00OQgseJbmNDV2FkilbcyQI/s1600/atl.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRPOuz7wEaKCEJNaLg8e0jj5Lgo0IsVvkbpNyHFuwPVM9VfUox6-E8o9Vo6MLC0eFXf4in5RqGfbd0b8BK_3pMgzs7aKltrLSkNrnwuX0qJOX9I5k-cZAIc00OQgseJbmNDV2FkilbcyQI/s1600/atl.png" height="272" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I’ve made it through the opening weekend of this year’s festival, and,
true to <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/2015/03/atlff15-what-im-excited-about-part-i.html">my
first post</a> about the <a href="http://atlantafilmfestival.com/">Atlanta Film
Fest</a>, I went to a lot of screenings. Here are a few of the things I’ve
learned.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In case anyone was wondering, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt4142262/">The Dickumentary</a> </i>informs us
that cock worship is alive and well in North America, in the small but
dedicated following of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._Priapus_Church">St. Priapus Church</a>
of Montreal—located mainly in the (sacred?) basement of the order’s high priest
and founder, D.F. Cassidy. While it is admittedly hard—no pun intended—to top
that piece of information, the other screenings were also more than worth the
time, if only to find out how much of a pain in the ass, according to filmmaker
<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1165576/?ref_=tt_ov_dr"><span class="itemprop"><span style="color: blue;"><span itemprop="name">Jonathan Kesselman</span></span></span></a>,
John Heard is. My favorite event so far has to be the “<a href="http://atlantafilmfestival.com/2015/other-worlds/">Other Worlds</a>”
short block, a surprisingly diverse and impressive collection of eight horror
and sci-fi films, by turns hilarious and terrifying, that truly made me happy
about the future of the film industry. What I take away from it all? Don’t ever
pick up a crow totem off the ground. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">But the festival is less than halfway through, and there are more
exciting events in the coming days. This is what I’m looking forward to.</span></span></div>
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<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://while-were-young.com/">While We’re Young</a></i></span> </b>(Wednesday
3/25 7:00 p.m. at the Plaza)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="281" mozallowfullscreen="" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/113636958" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="500"></iframe></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">“<span class="content">The only feelings I have now are wistful and
disdainful,” </span>fortysomething Josh (Ben Stiller) says at one point in Noah
Baumbach’s latest coming-of-middle-age story. The line could almost perfectly describe
most of the “indie”—whatever that means—director’s works to date, and I expect melancholy
humor and hard-biting irony, boisterous levity and bitter truths about getting
old, to ensue when Josh and his wife Cornelia (Naomi Watts) unexpectedly befriend
a young and unpredictable Brooklynite couple (played by Adam Driver and Amanda
Seyfried). Baumbach scheduled to attend.</span></span><br />
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condition. A man’s obsessive visits to a fortuneteller leave him nearly
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Night</a></i></span> </b>(Friday 3/27 7:00 p.m. at the Plaza)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="281" mozallowfullscreen="" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/121386151" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="500"></iframe></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm2013046/?ref_=tt_ov_dr"><span class="itemprop"><span style="color: blue; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span itemprop="name">Caryn Waechter</span></span></span></a>’s <a href="https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/858699730/the-sisterhood-of-night">Kickstarter-funded</a>
debut feature seems to offer a provocative meditation on the tragedy and humor
of teenage years changed forever by the internet age. When Emily Parris (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm4442319/?ref_=tt_cl_t2">Kara Hayward</a>)
exposes a secret society of girls that meets mysteriously in the woods and
accuses them of sexual deviancy, the small suburban community they hail from
makes national news and soon becomes the setting of a modern-day, social
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your partner (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Chandelier</i>, Alexander
Yan), seduction by the gods (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Persefone</i>,
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directors have shown some apprehension about anything feminist-labeled or their
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">First-time writer-director <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm2367869/?ref_=fn_al_nm_1">Vania Leturcq</a> aims
to capture the possibility, excitement, uncertainty and bittersweetness of
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story of 18-year-old best friends Clotilde (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm2684816/?ref_=tt_cl_t5"><span class="itemprop"><span style="color: blue; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span itemprop="name">Constance
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Thiam</span></span></span></a>), who are finishing school and must decide what
to do the following year. Clotilde is eager to leave the small, provincial
village and move to Paris, dragging Aude along, but the two girls respond to
the move differently.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Love and Mercy</i></span> </b>(Sunday, 3/29. 12:15 p.m. upstairs at the Plaza)</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://vimeo.com/105526979"></a><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Paul Dano and John Cusack play younger and older iterations of Brian
Wilson in <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0688361/?ref_=tt_ov_dr"><span class="itemprop"><span style="color: blue;"><span itemprop="name">Bill Pohlad</span></span></span></a>’s
<a href="http://www.tiff.net/festivals/thefestival">TIFF</a>-premiered warm tribute to the <a href="http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&ved=0CB8QFjAA&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.thebeachboys.com%2F&ei=9f8RVamKK9SSsQTfhoK4BA&usg=AFQjCNEOix8ogTojFm4aQ5F9Qu0ogZ1QBg&sig2=4yF52ofCuIBns_438TvREg&bvm=bv.89184060,d.cWc">Beach Boys</a> founder. Billed as the true story behind the
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struggles with mental health and substance abuse and his middle-age relationship
to Cadillac saleswoman Melinda Ledbetter (Elizabeth Banks), who is determined
to save him from his therapist (Paul Giamatti).</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></div>
Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-71638742533998649132015-03-21T03:03:00.001-04:002015-03-21T12:43:57.672-04:00ATLFF'15: What I'm Excited About (Part I)<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The 39th <a href="http://atlantafilmfestival.com/">Atlanta Film
Festival</a> kicked off tonight with the overwhelmingly overcrowded and
(possibly) overhyped opening night presentation of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0446539/">Justin Kelly</a>’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3713030/">I Am Michael</a></i>, the true
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<a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/James%20Franco">James
Franco</a> unfortunately couldn’t make it, due to “unforeseen circumstances,” but
the film was received amongst predominantly positive buzz, and I dare call the
first day of the festival a success—but maybe that’s just Happy Hour talking (5
p.m. every night at the <a href="http://www.thehighlandinn.com/">Highland Inn</a>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So what else has people excited about this Georgia peach of a
celebration of filmmakers and filmlovers? From a record number of 3,761
submissions from over 100 countries, the organizers have chosen the strongest
and most radical lineup of narrative, documentary and experimental feature-length
and short films, and what awaits audiences and guests at the <a href="http://plazaatlanta.com/">Plaza</a> and 7 Stages Theatres, the <a href="https://www.woodruffcenter.org/">Woodruff Arts Center</a> and the <a href="http://rialto.gsu.edu/">Rialto</a> is indeed an interesting roster of
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looking forward to this weekend:</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.thesidewayslight.com/Home.html">The Sideways Light</a></span></i><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> </b>(Saturday
3/21 9:30 p.m. upstairs at the Plaza)</span></span><br />
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<![endif]--><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">This atmospheric indie thriller from first-time writer-director <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1373138/?ref_=tt_ov_dr">Jennifer Harlow</a>
follows a young woman named Lily (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm2698115/?ref_=tt_ov_st">Lindsay Burdges</a>) who
cares for her ailing mother (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0420121/?ref_=tt_cl_t3">Annalee Jefferies</a>)
when she starts to notice strange occurrences in the house her family has owned
for generations. The daughter is haunted by memories as the mother starts
losing hers the question raised is whether or not there’s anything else
haunting them as well or if every odd incident is just a byproduct of the older
woman’s unraveling mind.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">The Dickumentary</span></i><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> </b>(Sunday
3/22 2:15 p.m. upstairs at the Plaza) </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Basically everything you have ever wanted to know about the penis in
one short film. From worship to circumcision and enlargement, spanning millions
of years from its evolution in prehistory to modern society and covering interviews
with over 40 experts across 14 countries, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0451325/?ref_=tt_ov_dr">Sofian Khan</a>’s full-length—no
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.jimmyvestvood.com/">Jimmy Vestvood: Amerikan Hero</a></span></i> (Sunday
3/22 6:45 p.m. downstairs at the Plaza)</span></span></div>
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</span></span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="281" mozallowfullscreen="" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/109825727" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="500"></iframe> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://vimeo.com/109825727"></a><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
Jamshid Gakhredinpour (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0423414/?ref_=tt_ov_wr">Maz Jobrani</a>) gets
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An Iranian in Hollywood story. Dreaming of becoming an American hero in Los
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a corrupt arms dealer, accused of terrorism and entangled in a conspiracy to
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>The Tribe</i></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> </b>(Sunday 3/22 9:15
p.m. downstairs at the Plaza)</span></span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="281" mozallowfullscreen="" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/99616606" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="500"></iframe> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://vimeo.com/99616606"></a><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
Given the fact that most movies today hold our hand like an
overprotective and slightly creepy uncle while spelling out every possible
message in obvious, unambiguous (and whenever possible, big, loud, explosion-and-conflagration-heavy)
narratives and clear, concise, clichéd writing, it seems a rare and brave thing
indeed that <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm2990632/?ref_=tt_ov_dr">Miroslav
Slaboshpitsky</a>’s award-winning Cannes graduate debut feature is as (literally)
quiet, simple, and unusual as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Tribe</i>.
A Ukraine/Netherlands coproduction about a deaf teenager (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm6444684/?ref_=tt_ov_st"><span class="itemprop"><span style="color: blue; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span itemprop="name">Grigoriy
Fesenko</span></span></span></a>) struggling to fit into the boarding school
system as he navigates gang rivalries and the sometimes even more dangerous
terrain of adolescent love, the movie contains no spoken dialogue; the story is
carried forth through sign language by a team of non-professional actors. Did I
mention there are also no subtitles? “For Love and Hatred,” the trailer boldly proclaims,
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhty18NOd8uHGZ23TS0RYi2DP37o08QI1PjbHKBuBms1CWQTFSKhSEGwicwz20lOw3JK7mTLt_0KYsMMUpZDo2gFWuYZdStyd2Vp9O03QHFLPJYdc2UR556XqbOhbZMtNHOKz1oBWnHjnex/s1600/bazin-et-la-camera.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhty18NOd8uHGZ23TS0RYi2DP37o08QI1PjbHKBuBms1CWQTFSKhSEGwicwz20lOw3JK7mTLt_0KYsMMUpZDo2gFWuYZdStyd2Vp9O03QHFLPJYdc2UR556XqbOhbZMtNHOKz1oBWnHjnex/s1600/bazin-et-la-camera.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span>“The faithful
reproduction of reality is not art. We are constantly told that it consists in
selection and interpretation….That it why up to now the ‘realist’ trends in
cinema, as in other arts, consisted simply in introducing a greater measure of
reality into the work: but this additional measure of reality was still only an
effective way of serving an abstract purpose, whether dramatic, moral, or
ideological…. Realism subordinates what it borrows from reality to its
transcendent needs. Neorealism knows only immanence. It is from appearance
only, the simple appearance of beings and of the world, that it knows how to
deduce the ideas that it unearths. It is a phenomenology” </span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">
</span><div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span>– Andre Bazin, “Vittorio De Sica: Metteur en
Scene” (64-65)</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In “The Ontology of the Photographic Image,” <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Andre%20Bazin">Andre Bazin</a> points out the
indexical nature of the cinema, the objective character of photography which
provides it with a quality of credibility absent in the other arts. We are
forced to accept the reality of the object presented, or “<i>re</i>-presented,” by the camera because the image it creates, like a
fingerprint of reality, “shares, by virtue of the process of its becoming, the
being of the model of which it is the reproduction; it <i>is</i> the model” (13-14, emphasis in original). Bazin’s essay ends,
however, on a note that seems to contradict most of what has come before: “On
the other hand, of course, cinema is also a language.” If we are to understand
that film is not only indexical, but, like language, then, also symbolic,
constructed through an arbitrary connection to the object represented, how can
we speak of cinematic realism,<span> </span>“an
integral realism, a recreation of the world in its own image” (“The Myth of
Total Cinema” 20)? In order to answer that question, we must first distinguish
between the different types of realism that Bazin discusses.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6UlHrr3Kz128HDzJ6ggXv7m03i4yaHy1cUJ3puiWAmLz8hGkRAvecwsB48xeJYYldpaAVYrlBwWanBOC6EI_uW1FvIkiO79KxZKi3PHVMiQYLnfWoCaXlqDSoWrhWGVhyL2Jr7HgDDfwk/s1600/His_Girl_Friday_still_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6UlHrr3Kz128HDzJ6ggXv7m03i4yaHy1cUJ3puiWAmLz8hGkRAvecwsB48xeJYYldpaAVYrlBwWanBOC6EI_uW1FvIkiO79KxZKi3PHVMiQYLnfWoCaXlqDSoWrhWGVhyL2Jr7HgDDfwk/s1600/His_Girl_Friday_still_2.jpg" height="251" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The theorist distinguished between two broad tendencies in the cinema
between 1920 and 1940, of directors who put their faith in the
image—“everything that the representation on the screen adds to the object
there represented”—and the directors who put their faith in reality (“The
Evolution of the Language of Cinema” 24). Through what Bazin calls the
“plastics” (mise-en-scene, lighting, framing, performance, set decoration and
other stylistic elements) and montage, filmmakers in the first category sought
to impose their interpretation of an event on the audience, emphasizing clarity
and continuity above complexity or ambiguity, creating what David Bordwell
calls a “straight corridor” through which the action can move forward
(“Classical Hollywood Principles: Narrational Principles and Procedures” 18). </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A typical classical Hollywood film, according to Bordwell, would
feature psychologically defined individuals who struggle to solve a clear-cut
problem or attain specific goals, leading to a (generally) positive resolution.
Causality is “the prime unifying principle,” as the formulaic plot moves
through cause-and-effect chains that motivate the spatial and temporal
organization of the film (Bordwell 18-20). Every cinematic element in classical
Hollywood realism is designed to foreground the narrative and the performance
of the actor; the structures of the mise-en-scene flow from the story, and they
only contribute to confirming the meaning of the action. The lighting is
unobtrusive, the framing centered, the camera generally at eye level, the sound
synchronized to the image, dialogue clearly audible, music appropriate to the
action or mood, and seamless cuts occur at logical points in the action and dialogue.
This is opposed to the <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/2014/01/battleship-potemkin-1925-analysis.html">style of montage used by Soviet directors</a>, but even
they, however, “did not give us the event”; they merely alluded to it, and the
significance of the film was not to be found in the objective content of the
elements of reality, but in the way these elements were ordered (“The Evolution
of the Language of Cinema” 25)</span></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjglY-4Lfv_C8a5Y5FSbyeZw8f1YnmhtnIqR-_i7yjL9GkffnlB4sGfkOcD3_jfy7ld9TPNbK6Ajb8Tk_4XPnSSZOH649foDutSBHGzCoPkavej6JFOtj_E3-ZQclskkYtkJ7j3V4TIo5oz/s1600/primary_EB20040101COMMENTARY401010335AR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQuTC9MLAQ6LGbMkON6891u4hb5stfxgzKnf2FMO1wYLfE8u5mafRwuLzxDreJ9wrBOd5AKqaNVi_tG7KRTkwberij0WxONtZCHExLtCPX8R618umMGgQdMMs-Ly3qrI41-tNDzhWxCt1K/s1600/kane08.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQuTC9MLAQ6LGbMkON6891u4hb5stfxgzKnf2FMO1wYLfE8u5mafRwuLzxDreJ9wrBOd5AKqaNVi_tG7KRTkwberij0WxONtZCHExLtCPX8R618umMGgQdMMs-Ly3qrI41-tNDzhWxCt1K/s1600/kane08.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjglY-4Lfv_C8a5Y5FSbyeZw8f1YnmhtnIqR-_i7yjL9GkffnlB4sGfkOcD3_jfy7ld9TPNbK6Ajb8Tk_4XPnSSZOH649foDutSBHGzCoPkavej6JFOtj_E3-ZQclskkYtkJ7j3V4TIo5oz/s1600/primary_EB20040101COMMENTARY401010335AR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjglY-4Lfv_C8a5Y5FSbyeZw8f1YnmhtnIqR-_i7yjL9GkffnlB4sGfkOcD3_jfy7ld9TPNbK6Ajb8Tk_4XPnSSZOH649foDutSBHGzCoPkavej6JFOtj_E3-ZQclskkYtkJ7j3V4TIo5oz/s1600/primary_EB20040101COMMENTARY401010335AR.jpg" height="140" width="200" /></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In classical Hollywood film, montage is only used to analyze an episode
according to the material or dramatic logic of the scene. The universal
standard pattern of editing was “analytic”; the purpose and effects of cutting
are exclusively dramatic or psychological (“The Evolution of the Language of
Cinema” 31-32). Classical Hollywood directors broke up scenes into shots and then
assembled them “according to an artificial and abstract duration: dramatic
duration” (“Vittorio De Sica: Metteur en Scene” 65). Dialogue scenes, for
example, almost always used a <span id="goog_2068507531"></span><span id="goog_2068507532"></span>shot-reverse-shot pattern, which will be
challenged by filmmakers like Orson Welles and William Wyler through introduction
of the more “realistic” shot in depth which Bazin argues draws closer to the
actual lived experience of the viewer at the same time that it introduces a
greater sense of ambiguity into the structure of the image (35-37). This is a
step towards the realism of Italian directors like Rossellini and De Sica,
which “tends to give back to the cinema a sense of the ambiguity of reality”
(“The Evoluton of the Language of Cinema 37). Neorealism, Bazin argues, is
different from all other forms of film realism in its stripping away of
expressionism and its exclusion of the effects of montage.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In neorealism, all of classical Hollywood cinema’s assumptions are
challenged, and the structure of the narrative is completely changed. Not only
must it now respect the actual duration of the event presented, but the editing
cannot add anything to the reality depicted. Fundamentally, the parts we are
not given, the empty gaps in the narrative, are themselves of a concrete
nature, “stones which are missing from the building” (Vittorio de Sica: Metteur
en Scene” 65-66). This is the same as in life, where we don’t know everything
that happens to other people. But ellipsis here, as opposed to the analytic
editing of classical Hollywood cinema, is not an effect of style. In
Rossellini’s films “it is a lacuna in reality,” an effect of the limitations in
human knowledge. Neorealism, then, for Bazin, is an ontological position rather
than an aesthetic one and cannot be reproduced by following certain steps
because there is no formula that can simply be applied to it. If in classical
Hollywood the style was supposed to be invisible, neorealism involves an almost
invisible subject, a subject that depends entirely on the facts that give rise
to it. The neorealist director knows that every action depends on character; he
builds the “plot”—if that is even an apt term for the organic, loosely episodic
structure of events of a film like <i>Voyage
to Italy</i>—out of the characters’ interactions and gestures, “their way of
life, their way of crying, of walking, of laughing” (“De Sica” 66).</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Alfred Hitchcock described drama as “life with the dull bits cut out.”
The aim of realism is to make the dull bits the stuff of drama, to extract the
extraordinary out of the ordinariness of existence. The point is not to create
a spectacle that is realistic, but rather to turn reality itself into a
spectacle. Every image of a film like <i>De
Sica’s Bicycle Thieves</i> is full of meaning, but this meaning springs
naturally from the events and situations depicted, not one of which is given a
prior, provisional significance or utility by the director. Neorealism rejects
analysis of its subject or its political, social, moral, or psychological
implications because it is simply a particular way of looking at the whole of
reality, or reality filtered through the consciousness of the characters—as
Naples is seen from Katherine’s point of view in <i>Voyage to Italy</i>—rather than the pre-ordained vision of the artist.
This doesn’t mean that Rosellini or De Sica to not take a stand regarding the
world or they do not judge it, but reality in their films is not, as in the
work of a traditional realist artist like Dickens or Zola, reassembled in a
picture that fits a particular moral conception. Objects, incidents, gestures,
movements are first allowed to exist for their own sake before we can derive
some deeper meaning or moral truth from them. “The world of Rossellini,” Bazin
writes, “is a world of pure acts, unimportant in themselves but preparing the
way (as if unbeknownst to God himself) for the sudden dazzling revelation of
their meaning” (“In Defense of Rossellini 100). We are allowed to move from one
fact to another, from one fragment of reality to the next before arriving at
their significance. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">There is no one fixed meaning in these movies. Neorealist films—and
later works of the French New Wave, Brazilian Nuovo Cinema, New Iranian film,
etc.—bear witness to the events of reality and history, and allow us to draw
our own conclusions. In a certain sense, these are all cinemas of resistance,
looking at the truth of history rather than constructing a fiction about it,
providing a report of reality, an observation on the human condition that is at
once objective and personal. In <i>Voyage to
Italy</i>, Rossellini makes the reality of postwar Italy plainly visible, but
instead of providing a facile “social message,” lets us experience the setting
through his characters, who languish at their<i> </i>newly inherited Naples Villa, take trips to Capri, sightsee in the
Museum of Archeology or the Cave of the Sibyl, or explore the richly symbolic
Italian landscape—the volcanic pools at Vesuvius, the ruins of Pompeii.
Narrative, plot, and exposition dissolve into atmosphere, a succession of moods
and unspoken inner anxieties, following an emotional logic alternately
reflected and obscured by the picturesque surroundings which, like Rosselini’s
heroine, are at once spiritually sterile and sensuous. “Rossellini’s style is a
way of seeing… [which] lays siege to its object from outside… [not] without
understanding or feeling—but this exterior approach offers us an essential
ethical and metaphysical relations with the world” (“De Sica: Metteur en Scene”
62). From the fabric of everyday existence, Rosselini wrests mystery and miracles,
and, from the understated exploration of a failing marriage, the humbling
recognition of life and mortality, of funeral hearses and baby carriages and
pregnant women and rows of skulls. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Tramp, wearing tails, drives around in a Rolls Royce.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He spots a man smoking a cigar and patiently
follows in the car until he drops the butt. The character jumps out of the
Rolls, fights off an old, ragged bum who had himself bent over to pick up the
cigar butt, grabs it, sticks it into his mouth, leaps back into his Rolls and
drives away smoking; the assaulted bum looks on in stunned silence. This little
comic bit, one of the countless memorable scenes in <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Charlie%20Chaplin">Charlie Chaplin</a>’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">City Lights</i> (1931) is more than just a
funny sight gag; it is a glimpse into a way of life and into the underlying
metaphor of many of the filmmaker’s works. The sequence underscores much of
what the great artist’s career was built on: the contrast of wealth and
poverty, surface riches and actual need, appearance and essence. What the Tramp
needed was never financial success—he was destined, from the time of Chaplin’s
<a href="http://www.charliechaplin.com/en/filming/articles/210-Essanay-Chaplin-Brand">Essanay shorts</a>, to fail at attaining material rewards. What the character
wanted was of a more spiritual nature: love and acceptance into “proper” society.
Most of the time, he was doomed to fail at attaining that as well.
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Read my analysis of Chaplin's <i>The Circus</i> <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/2013/12/the-circus-1928-analysis.html">here</a>.</span></span></div>
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<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Charlie is an outcast, an onlooker, a loner. His shabby appearance sets
him apart and cues people to avoid and stereotype him. A tramp is not… one of
us. In <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">City Lights</i>, his only relationships
are with people who won’t or can’t see him: a drunken millionaire, who sobers
up and doesn’t recognize him, and the blind flower girl. Those who do see the
Tramp, like the boys who cruelly taunt him, provide only pain. The material
possessions the Tramp does acquire—the car, the tux, the money for the girl’s
operation (all gifts from the millionaire)—are soon taken away. His forays into
high society end disastrously. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Accompanying the millionaire to a classy restaurant (after having saved
the man’s life), the Tramp wreaks hilarious chaos. When his hat gets taken at
the entrance, he looks around in disorientation, fixes his sights on a man
wearing a similar hat, promptly takes it away, and shoves the perceived thief
for good measure. The dance floor causes him considerable discomfort; like the
word he has just entered, it’s too slippery, too sleek, too likely to result in
a fall. When he sits down to eat, he stuffs his napkin halfway down his pants.
The millionaire, thinking his shirt is sticking out, shoves it down all the
way. Sitting down at the table, he grabs another diner’s chair, which plants
the seed for the obvious gag to follow. Before the meal, Charlie is offered a
cigar, which he gladly accepts. Gesticulating, the millionaire presents <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">his</i> cigar to his guest, who lights it.
When the Tramp goes to take another drag, he can’t understand why his own cigar
isn’t lit. He strikes another match and insistently works on it, only to
discover it is the other end of the millionaire’s cigar. When he tries to smoke
it, he burns himself, and indignantly throws the offending butt over his
shoulder. It lands on a woman’s seat, and Charlie, trying to fix his mistake,
promptly douses her flaming dress with club soda. The main course is spaghetti;
streamers line the room—is it even necessary to continue?</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">At a big party at the millionaire’s mansion, the Tramp continues his
series of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">faux pas</i>. Seeing a
pretentious dish—a perfect half-sphere of indeterminate matter surrounded by
little edible triangles—laid out on a tray beside him, Charlie gets his knife
and fork out and prepares to dig in. Meanwhile, the tray is replaced with a
bald man’s head, adorned by a hat. Charlie goes at the guest’s head with the
knife. In the middle of a musical recital accompanied by much pompous aplomb,
the character swallows a whistle and immediately starts hiccupping,
interrupting the act with each spasm. Embarrassed, he goes outside, where he inadvertently
hails a cab and gathers a following of dogs.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtezoCRhVl_-VstMBlVepFOuUr0xz3zaACgMZCMz-LHz9Obf4vxGgqSnwTan4wQh264gPaUEqlVWJ0_bzUB0w2zEV2kqq5jn6w_cvPE9QHZbIT5LUOWSlJhOszAuhRWQ7o80-ULcPtdDLr/s1600/City-Lights-charlie-chaplin-14440725-1600-1236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtezoCRhVl_-VstMBlVepFOuUr0xz3zaACgMZCMz-LHz9Obf4vxGgqSnwTan4wQh264gPaUEqlVWJ0_bzUB0w2zEV2kqq5jn6w_cvPE9QHZbIT5LUOWSlJhOszAuhRWQ7o80-ULcPtdDLr/s1600/City-Lights-charlie-chaplin-14440725-1600-1236.jpg" height="247" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Charlie could never comply with the strict rules of etiquette and
superficial social niceties of this empty world. Regardless of what he wears or
where he dines, he will always be a loner, placed outside of and morally above
“proper” society. He is too gentle, too kind, too human to confine himself to
such an environment. The flower seller, similarly, is alone. Apart from her
grandmother, she has no one, and not enough money to pay the rent. Introduced
by a bouquet of flowers that slowly dissolves into her lovely face, the girl
epitomizes Chaplin’s career-long tendency to idealize and idolize his leading
ladies. Flowers, the dominant visual metaphor of the artist’s many films,
define the blind woman. The white rose she gives him, which he keeps throughout
all of these ordeals, is more important to him than anything the millionaire
could offer. In fact, after both men have fallen into the river and the
millionaire invites the Tramp back to his house to warm up, the main character returns
to grab the flower he dropped on the street; what it symbolizes—a perfect,
beautiful, yet terribly fragile link between man and nature—is more important
than physical comfort. The flower becomes a surrogate for the real human beauty
he wants to possess and cannot; at least he can hold the flower, if not the
woman he loves. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In the last, poignant scenes of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">City
Lights</i>, one of the great emotional moments in film history, it is, again, a
flower that brings the two protagonists together. Having emerged from prison,
more ragged than ever, Charlie picks up a lost, wilted flower from the ground.
He is taunted by the boys on the street, kicked and mocked pitilessly. The
girl, her eye sight restored by the operation the Tramp paid for, sees him
through the window of her new flower shop. She knows he is a bum, but smiles at
him anyway and shows him kindness. She gives him a new flower and some money.
Touching his hands, she recognizes them. “You can see now?” he asks. “Yes, I
can see now.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She sees who he is and yet
still smiles at him. Charlie smiles back, clutching the white rose in one of
the most beautiful images ever put on film.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWwH0niAZmAO0-8NVeVyxhcUWvTZYnrTPA4OQCt4B4tk_UScUGqXRCZ-Ssed6c3HZHEsV324ukcgAHV78JMwBXNeODO-bLvnVAq290TnxDQVmviHWdruWQw17pid6QTS7bEsQu2bwWqF_8/s1600/CityLights3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWwH0niAZmAO0-8NVeVyxhcUWvTZYnrTPA4OQCt4B4tk_UScUGqXRCZ-Ssed6c3HZHEsV324ukcgAHV78JMwBXNeODO-bLvnVAq290TnxDQVmviHWdruWQw17pid6QTS7bEsQu2bwWqF_8/s1600/CityLights3.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When one image can say so much, when every frame of the film can speak clearly
and loudly to millions of viewers, what could a word do? Sound, not <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">words</i>, can be masterfully used by silent
artists—and are, as in the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oXrV8fOgzMM">opening nonsense speech</a> in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">City Lights</i>, a string of unintelligible squawks meant to parody
both the hypocrisy of such social events and sound film. But words could only
break the spell, kill the magic, take away from the Tramp’s universality.<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>Chaplin and other silent filmmakers
knew no national boundaries. Their films went everywhere without regard for
language, and talkies were like the Tower of Babel, building walls between
nations. Speech was not how the Tramp expressed himself. Buster Keaton is
generally credited as the most silent of all silent comedians, but Chaplin was
a mime to his core. In most silent films, there’s the illusion the characters
are speaking event though we can’t hear them. The Tramp never had to speak; body
language served as speech. Charlie existed on a different plane from the other
characters, stood outside their lives and realities, judged on his appearance,
interacting with the world mostly through his actions. Although he’s sometimes
seen to mimic speech, he doesn’t have to. Unlike most other silent film
characters, the Tramp would have been perfectly at home in a silent world.</span></span></div>
Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-32640140137449994852014-12-28T19:27:00.000-05:002014-12-28T19:27:57.487-05:00Dismantling Narrative Conventions and the American Dream in "A Cool Million" and "The Big Lebowski"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<![endif]--><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.slate.com/articles/arts/books/2010/05/nathanael_wests_secret.html">Nathanael
West</a> and <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/The%20Coen%20Brothers">Joel
and Ethan Coen</a> have never been known for playing it straight. <i><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2295674.A_Cool_Million">A Cool Million</a></i>,
subtitled<i> The Dismantling of Lemuel
Pitkin</i>, and <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Big-Lebowski-Widescreen-Collectors/dp/B000A7DVR2/ref=sr_1_2?s=movies-tv&ie=UTF8&qid=1419810066&sr=1-2&keywords=the+big+lebowski">The
Big Lebowski</a> </i>can be read as satires, if not parodies, of <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/American%20Dream">the
American Dream</a> of success. Their denial of coherence and lack of narrative
discipline, deemed post-modern, their refusal to be constrained by the imperatives
of conventional narrative and formal purity can be related to the way these
works challenge the assumption that achievement is desirable and possible
through hard work. Another connection between the novel and the movie is in the
main characters’ embodiment of the Jewish folk character of <a href="http://schlemielintheory.com/">the ‘schlemiel’</a>—the clumsy, inept,
charismatic character that stumbles from one situation to the next, pushed
around by circumstances that are not of his own making. In following characters
that are not in charge of their own destiny through convoluted plots that are
ultimately absurd and somewhat incoherent, Nathanael West and <a href="http://www.indiewire.com/article/the-films-of-the-coen-brothers-ranked-from-worst-to-best-20141129">the
Coen brothers</a> challenge not only narrative and stylistic conventions, but
the conventional ideas of progress and improvement through work.
</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Both these stories are framed in such a way as to remind
readers and viewers that they are, indeed, stories, the fabrications of their
authors. In <i>A Cool Million</i>, the
narrator intrudes on the action, distancing the readers from the fictional
world of its characters. When Lemuel finds himself in ex-president Shagpoke
Whipple’s house, the first-person omniscient narrator interjects by commenting
that “it will only delay my narrative and serve no good purpose to report how
Lem told about his predicament,” so he decides to “skip to his last sentence”
(West 72). In another instance, the narrator returns to an earlier point in the
story by saying that “several chapters back, I left our heroine, Betty Prail,
laying naked under a bush…” (West 90), or he directly addresses the reader by
assuming he or she “might be eager to know why [Wu Fong] wanted an American
girl so badly” (West 93), or announcing that “I am happy to acquaint my readers
to the fact that…” (West 95). In the last chapter, the narrator concludes that
“little else remains to be told, but before closing this book, there is one
last scene I intend to describe” (West 177). These intrusions distract from the
world of the narrative and point out its unreality. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Similarly, the Stranger in <i><a href="http://www.shortlist.com/entertainment/films/50-things-you-%28probably%29-didnt-know-about-the-big-lebowski">The
Big Lebowski</a></i> appears at the beginning, the middle, and the end of the
film to introduce, comment on, or conclude the narrative. Invoking the mythic
Western hero, the Stranger opens the movies with “way out West there was a
fella, fella I wanna tell you about” voiced over “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JQc5gDXQGIs">Tumbling Tumbleweeds</a>” on
the soundtrack. The Coens not only satirize the narrator, who has “this whole
cowboy thing goin,” but satirize the use of narrators in film in general, by
making the Stranger unreliable, clearly not omniscient (“there’s a lot about
the Dude that didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me”), who digresses (going
from Los Angeles to London, Paris, and the “queen in her damned undies, as a
fella says”) and is somewhat confused
about what it is he wants to say: “Sometimes there’s a man, (…) and I’m talkin’
about the Dude here—sometimes there’s a man (…) Sometimes there’s a man… Aw, I
lost m’train of thought here. Aw, hell, I done innerduced him enough.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Narrative conventions are ignored or defied not only in
style, but also plot. In reading <i>A Cool
Million</i>, one is undone by one’s own expectations. In the beginning, a
timeline is set only to be shattered. Lemuel must earn fifteen hundred dollars
to pay off the mortgage on his house in three months. Having decided to “go off
to seek my fortune” in New York City,
we expect the story to evolve within these time constraints, and Lem to succeed
or fail in earning the money by the end of the three months (73). However, any
hope of success is destroyed when Lem is wrongly accused of stealing and ends
up in prison before ever making it to New
York, where he spends the next twenty weeks. West’s
character strives for, but never achieves success. The author takes the
rags-to-riches story of writers like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horatio_Alger_myth">Horatio Alger Jr</a>.
and flips it on its head, and poor Lemuel, try as he might to climb the social
ladder, only manages to get one foot on before West moves it on him. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd6n0hAUUh9GYgKFlEmcrpZ2j9M7yJ29CijwSJGfWfFzrKRSOhWM1qfShv4eDBRN7WwmX5uMC3WSR3O9nMJ9OzXgbfqiaxSonBqduDJXq_dyxi1YvKd_T1Uxo-i7Yb81PqsbVIn7TyQwku/s1600/Supermarket.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd6n0hAUUh9GYgKFlEmcrpZ2j9M7yJ29CijwSJGfWfFzrKRSOhWM1qfShv4eDBRN7WwmX5uMC3WSR3O9nMJ9OzXgbfqiaxSonBqduDJXq_dyxi1YvKd_T1Uxo-i7Yb81PqsbVIn7TyQwku/s1600/Supermarket.jpg" height="240" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">From the beginning, the character is not allowed to succeed
not for lack of trying, but because events that are out of his control shape
his fate. The dismantling of the hero, starting with his teeth, is accomplished
by the end of the novel with no participation on his part. A heroic gesture
that would have sealed <a href="http://www.pagebypagebooks.com/Horatio_Alger/Ragged_Dick/">Ragged Dick</a>’s
fortune, is not merely ignored by its benefactor in Lemuel’s case, but he loses
an eye in the process. Mr. Underdown, whom Lem saved from runaway horses, grows
“extremely angry,” threatening to have him arrested (104). When he is captured
by Wong Fu and prepared for the offensively caricatured Maharajah of Kanurani,
he escapes by no means of his own, but because his glass eye and false teeth
fall out. There is not one instance in the book where Lemuel manages to take
his destiny into his own hands. Similarly, <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Jeff%20Bridges">Jeff
Bridges</a>’ Dude gets caught in with Nihilist musicians, millionaires, feminist
artists, kidnappers, and porn producers without ever meaning to get involved. “All
the Dude ever wanted was his rug back,” the main character laments, and he is,
in the end allowed to return to the comfort of the bowling alley, but only
after having the rug quite literally and metaphorically pulled out from under
him a few times. The bowling pins here also serve a metaphorical role, as the
Dude is, like them, passively knocked about by external forces.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">While Lemuel believes in improving his condition through hard
work, the Dude is perfectly content with his rags; success, to him, is not
equal to material wealth and public recognition. The Dude’s existence is made
out of bowling, smoking lots of pot, drinking <a href="http://www.askmen.com/top_10/entertainment/top-10-movie-drinks.htmlhttp:/www.askmen.com/top_10/entertainment/top-10-movie-drinks.html">White
Russians</a>, and generally avoiding any effort. The Stranger comically
introduces the Dude as “most certainly” a lazy man, “quite possibly the laziest
in Los Angeles County, which would place him high in
the runnin’ for laziest worldwide.” When we first meet him, he is writing a
check for less than a dollar, which might as well bounce. He has gone to
college, he informs the Big Lebowski’s assistant (<a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Philip%20Seymour%20Hoffman">Philip
Seymour Hoffman</a>), but he admits to having spent his time “occupying various
administration buildings, smoking a lot of Thai stick, breaking into the ROTC
and bowling.” When Maude (<a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Julianne%20Moore">Julianne
Moore</a>) asks him what he does for recreation, he says “Oh, the usual. I
bowl. Drive around. The occasional acid flashback.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">He escapes societal conventions whenever possible.
Employment, marriage, even his appearance and his name mean little to him. He
resists the trappings and expectations of the American Dream, such as
domesticity: Walter informs us he doesn’t have an ex; one of the first things
he tells Jackie Treehorn’s thugs is “Does it look like I’m fucking married? The
toilet seat’s up, man”; when Da Fino calls Maude his “special lady,” the Dude
bursts out: “She’s not my special lady, she’s my fucking lady friend. I’m just
helping her conceive, man”; and when Maude informs him the yoga-like
contortions are meant to improve chances of conception, he spits his drink
across the room and says “let me explain something about the Dude…”</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9NTzGQKCV88fZx17l_cKlBVPeYoGcT0v_rD0xAjdPXJpPSBAsgsc90INYs9rZxUTH0RmpoFMWqBmV-TtPk4l7kOsj6vyRoqLrCCN1RFk00rVK-CZbqnlVbe0cO_waCO5X43rnbj-gkoL5/s1600/The-Big-Lebowski_KB_Jeff-Bridges_Julliane-Moore_dance.bmp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9NTzGQKCV88fZx17l_cKlBVPeYoGcT0v_rD0xAjdPXJpPSBAsgsc90INYs9rZxUTH0RmpoFMWqBmV-TtPk4l7kOsj6vyRoqLrCCN1RFk00rVK-CZbqnlVbe0cO_waCO5X43rnbj-gkoL5/s1600/The-Big-Lebowski_KB_Jeff-Bridges_Julliane-Moore_dance.bmp.jpg" height="188" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The Big Lebowski</i> plays
fast and loose in terms of style, stitching together many different genres:
comedy, crime, the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kIO9y1xMPIA">Busby
Berkeley</a> musical in fantasy dream sequences, the detective <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/film%20noir">noir</a>, the
western, the buddy film. The Coen brothers toss formal purity out the window,
resulting in a film that transcends and defies genre conventions and is
ultimately incoherent in terms of plot, enacting formally what its character
accomplishes on the level of content. The content, like the idea behind <i>A Cool Million</i>, is the rejection of the
American Dream of success in a <a href="http://www.slate.com/articles/news_and_politics/history/2014/09/the_self_made_man_history_of_a_myth_from_ben_franklin_to_andrew_carnegie.html">Franklinian
society</a> that calls for striving and achievement.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Self-reliance is emphasized in both works, by Shagpoke
because he refuses to give Lem a loan, and by the Big Lebowski when he tells
the Dude “I can’t solve your problem for you, sir. Only you can. Your
revolution is over. The bums lost. My advice to you is to do what your parents
did and get a job.” Shagpoke Whipple’s speeches mirror those of the Big
Lebowski. In trying to encourage Lemuel to go out into the world and “win [his]
way”, the ex-president convinces the young protagonist that “the world is an
oyster that but waits for hands to open it” and “America (…) is the land of
opportunity. She takes care of the honest and industrious and never fails them
as long as they are both” (West 73-72). Even after Lem gets arrested, Shagpoke
is unrelenting in his idealistic, absurd encouragement: “I believe I once told
you that you had an almost certain chance to succeed because you were born poor
and on a farm. Let me now tell you that your chance is even better because you
have been to prison (…) Here a man is a millionaire one day and a pauper the
next, but no one thinks the worse of him. The wheel will turn for that is the
nature of wheels.” Lemuel’s wheel only takes turns for the worse: “Jail is his
first reward. Poverty his second. Violence is his third. Death is his last”
(West 178). There is something admirable, and perhaps even heroic in the
character’s resilience, while the Dude is “a man, I won’t say a hero, ’cause
what’s a hero?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">West allows not a glimmer of hope in his novel. He offers a
harsh criticism of society, but no solution to its ills. When Lemuel and
Shagpoke head to the “Golden West” in search of fortune, this promise of quick
financial gain is again not delivered on. The speculation of the gold rush,
like that of the stock market, proved only an empty delusion. During the Great
Depression, when the action of <i>A Cool
Million</i> takes place, there was not much left for America to dream on, and
the bleak, negative universe of West’s work is suited to the times. The main
difference between the novel and the film is their tone. While the Dude returns
to his state of happy idling in the end, Lemuel is dismantled and used as a
political platform “he did not live or die in vain. Through his martyrdom the
National Revolutionary Party triumphed, and by that triumph this country was
delivered from sophistication, Marxism, and International Capitalism, (…) America
[becoming] again American.” In this way, he is used by others even after his
death. </span></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9a19Wrrn_he7Tn9dqOFK2NbWkWzIZDBLq2RiTjS6WaESZkvRiZE6nprAyndXm802HDjfiUIbI0CHbNpHEOmwaC4d50IxfzxevjhcMqDuw7XYSQ0RYVo2oQmmaZbAE0L6a0i8UnTp98CTt/s1600/big-lebowski-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9a19Wrrn_he7Tn9dqOFK2NbWkWzIZDBLq2RiTjS6WaESZkvRiZE6nprAyndXm802HDjfiUIbI0CHbNpHEOmwaC4d50IxfzxevjhcMqDuw7XYSQ0RYVo2oQmmaZbAE0L6a0i8UnTp98CTt/s1600/big-lebowski-1.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Los Angeles of <i>The
Big Lebowski</i>, an urban maze, is the paradigm of a capitalist society, a
place where dreams are manufactured, fabricated, and performed, in Hollywood as
well as daily life, as the Big Lebowski demonstrates. “They call Los Angeles the city of
angels. I didn’t find it to be that exactly,” the Stranger muses, “although
there are some nice folks.” The Dude is “the man for his time’n place. He fits
right in there.” However, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s10ldVRHRSw">as
Bob Dylan points out on the soundtrack</a>, this is the kind of place a man
needs to “hide sometimes, to keep from being seen/ But that’s just because he
doesn’t want to turn into some machine.” Perhaps that’s why the Dude avoids any
conventions, because he is avoiding turning into an upward-venturing,
hard-working, “little urban achiever” machine in a deranged society.</span></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Nathanael West’s <i>A
Cool Million</i>, and the Coen brothers’ <i>The
Big Lebowski</i> challenge societal, narrative and stylistic conventions in the
way they depict the aspirations and ideals of their main characters and
American society as a whole. The American Dream based on <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Protestant_Ethic_and_the_Spirit_of_Capitalism">Protestant
work ethic and Benjamin Franklin’s self-reliant, achieving society</a> is dismantled,
just like the main character of the novel. Lemuel and Donny might have died,
but the Stranger informs us that there’s a little Lebowski on the way, who will
perhaps inherit his dad’s indolence. “I guess that’s the way the whole darned
human comedy keeps perpetuatin’ itself.”</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Read about the Coen Brothers’ <i><a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/2013/11/fargo-1996-analysis.html">Fargo</a></i>
and <i><a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/2014/01/inside-llewyn-davis-2013.html">Inside
Llewyn Davis</a></i></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">.</span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Works Cited</b></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">West, Nathanael. <i>A
Cool Million and The Dream Life of Balso Snell: Two Novels</i>. New York: </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">FSG Classics, 2006.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The Big Lebowski</i>.
Dir. Joel and Ethan Coen, Perf. Jeff Bridges, John Goodman, Julianne Moore,</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Steve Buscemi, Philip Seymour
Hoffman. Netflix. Online Streaming.</span></span></div>
Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-16163613192258041932014-11-29T20:10:00.000-05:002014-11-29T20:10:45.858-05:00Harold Lloyd and the American Dream: How Speedy Turned into Willie Loman—and Back Again<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLhdNWl9vw1PlaUBAbvdY2-2UjHxfZA_SX6psWk9rlwOgqW5ZTm72GF8Xb4tOgCeiDKyuV0sbGI1bKF24wtPa3Q1URwD3LFNBPJIUq43FrUbhG9V6-x8tmFNHhDtg0UsEhPwZVGLn0puMb/s1600/Annex-Lloyd-Harold-Why-Worry_04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLhdNWl9vw1PlaUBAbvdY2-2UjHxfZA_SX6psWk9rlwOgqW5ZTm72GF8Xb4tOgCeiDKyuV0sbGI1bKF24wtPa3Q1URwD3LFNBPJIUq43FrUbhG9V6-x8tmFNHhDtg0UsEhPwZVGLn0puMb/s1600/Annex-Lloyd-Harold-Why-Worry_04.jpg" height="352" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A young man, straight out of high school, with hopes of a dramatic
stage career, hangs around the Edison Company studio, watching the actors,
stars as well as lowly extras, walk through the gate. Unable to get work in the
legitimate theater, he has turned, temporarily he hopes, to films. But access
is denied. All of the directors have their favorite extras, and all of the
favorite extras have passes to get through the studio gate in the morning.
Unknown, with only one day of work in the movie industry on his resume, playing
a Yaqui Indian no less, the man waits and hopes. One day, however, he notices
that when all the extras return from lunch, in full makeup, no one asks to see
their passes. He devises a plan right there and then. Dawdling away his
morning, the young man makes himself up lavishly during the noon hour and joins
the returning crowd at one o’clock, slipping in, with a casual wave to the
gateman, for the afternoon shooting. The year is 1913, the young man <a href="http://haroldlloyd.com/home">Harold Lloyd</a>. The actor was dogged,
inventive, self-made, compensating for what he lacked in experience, training
or talent with sheer energy, bounce, and push. It hadn’t occurred to him yet that
he would someday play himself. </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lloyd’s entry into the studio that day—and therefore the movie
industry— reads like a partial scenario for one of his later films. “He can do
anything he tries,” the smitten sweetheart says in the first reel of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HaQA_ht5M8c"><i>Never Weaken</i></a><i> </i>(1921).
It is not only her love for Lloyd’s character that engenders this type of
unquestioning faith. Harold the character, as well as Harold the actor, could
do most anything he set his mind to. In his best thrill comedies, he generated
sympathy not only because he was liable to drop to his death at any moment, but
also because he simply refused to. In film after film, Lloyd put himself in
danger and emerged unscathed; he got the money, got the girl, and, most
importantly, got ahead. His trials, tribulations, and ultimate triumphs spelled
the facet of the <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/search/label/American%20Dream">American
Dream</a> on which his mass appeal was built: a mediocre individual and how
much he can accomplish through the right combination of hard work, luck, and
pluck. </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A perfect example of his unwavering climb (this time to success and
popularity rather than <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/2014/07/safety-last-and-most-iconic-image-in.html">up
a skyscraper</a>) presents itself in the narrative of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Freshman-Criterion-Collection-Blu-ray-DVD/dp/B00HE010LC/ref=sr_1_3?s=movies-tv&ie=UTF8&qid=1413121872&sr=1-3&keywords=the+freshman"><i>The Freshman</i></a> (1925), directed by
Frank C. Newmeyer and Sam Taylor. A small-town young man with wildly
unrealistic dreams of college, Harold Lamb—and what better name could
underscore his innocence—seems the least likely person on the planet to become
popular, but giving up is a foreign concept to him. By the end, he has
everything he ever wanted: his classmates’ respect and adoration and a
beautiful girl who loves him. The future has never looked brighter; there is no
way this young man will not win in life as he did on that football field, or
even, hopefully, taking fewer falls and hits. Twenty years later, in <a href="http://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/features/2010/05/sturges-201005">Preston
Sturges</a>’ characteristically disenchanted <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0039825/"><i>Mad
Wednesday</i></a> <i></i>(1947), the once hearty <span> </span>and hopeful Harold, now bearing the purposely
bureaucratized last name of Diddlebock, is slow, broken, bent, a sad parody of
the dreams he had as a boy, of Lamb’s triumph as well as the falsity of
idealistic American clichés that triumph was built on. Lloyd’s silent
characters embodied the hopes of the nation in the twenties, but his naïve
optimism had no pull on a post-Depression era audience in the sound period. The
homely, small-town values had betrayed him as well as the viewers; the tools
required for success in this world—significantly, in Sturges’ film an urban
one—were of a much more cynical nature.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs3tlBANCxNcYZSH_KYkOUNIQLL7GCp9u6gbf1PYtpry9rsptVPh8uQe4ZYc7jmJhRQqS20QthOfreANkHiKh6jVE4D2ky1Mxx1XdnFdwvpk8X7mqbh4z5ZIK7dRaUJNkK1_aYV16xzkqg/s1600/Film_703w_Freshman_w320.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs3tlBANCxNcYZSH_KYkOUNIQLL7GCp9u6gbf1PYtpry9rsptVPh8uQe4ZYc7jmJhRQqS20QthOfreANkHiKh6jVE4D2ky1Mxx1XdnFdwvpk8X7mqbh4z5ZIK7dRaUJNkK1_aYV16xzkqg/s1600/Film_703w_Freshman_w320.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In <i>The Freshman</i>, Lloyd takes
us back to those beautiful boyhood days that never were, when “going to College
was greater than going to Congress—and you’d rather be Right Tackle than
President.” As the movie opens, Harold is upstairs in his room dreaming about
his upcoming trip and trying to prepare himself for the rituals of an
unfamiliar life by pouring over books on how to play football, college
yearbooks, and a dubious collection called “College Yells,” which he dutifully rehearses
in the mirror. Perhaps saddest—and funniest—of all, he has seen his favorite
movie, “The College Hero,” six times and has learned to imitate every one of
the preposterously romantic postures of the protagonist, the actor’s lines,
clothing style, the ridiculous little jig step he does before meeting anyone as
well as the greeting itself: “I’m just a regular fellow, step right up and call
me Speedy.” Speeding up the image to make his character look even more frantic,
Lloyd creates sympathy for Harold; we can imagine what results his intricate
preparation will have on his classmates. So can his parents: “I’m afraid, if
Harold imitates that movie actor at college,” his father says, “they’ll break
either his heart or his neck!” They do, indeed, come close to breaking both,
but not close enough to make Harold give up.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">From the moment he steps off the train at Tate University—“a large
football stadium with a college attached”—into a crowd of upperclassmen gleefully
reuniting, “Speedy” is out of place, despite his confidence that, being so
knowing about campus ways, he’ll be captain of the football team, president of
his class, and most popular student. The crowd dissolves into back-slapping
twos, trios, and fours, and Harold is left alone in a heartrending long shot
that underscores his isolation. He’s not quite alone, though. He has, in
addition to his golf clubs and ukulele (!), the campus bully’s undivided
attention, who points Harold out to his friends. Instead of ridiculing him
openly, they feign admiration, beg him to do his jig step, and trick him into
addressing the entire student body in the auditorium before the dean can
arrive—Harold unintentionally steals his car and driver, which take him
straight to the stage entrance. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Once inside the auditorium, Harold climbs up to get a stranded kitten
down from the stage curtain rod. When the bully parts the curtain, presenting
Harold to the audience and it to him, he is so shocked he stuffs the kitten
down his sweater to hide it. Fumbling, his vision blurred by tension—as per an
unfocused point of view shot—he tries to find his words, finally settling on “I
am here, er, yes, there is no doubt that I am here.” Yes, he is, and, knowing
Lloyd, he’s here to stay. Getting his wind, he launches into the kind of
uplifting rhetoric he has learned from the movies. The crowd, quickly realizing
he is a fool, applauds him wildly. Satisfied with his speech, Harold invites
his new “friends” out for ice cream. In a masterfully composed tracking shot,
we see the group steadily growing in numbers with each step—the flip side of
Truffaut’s famous tracking shot in <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/2014/10/the-400-blows-1959.html"><i>The 400 Blows</i></a>—until it encompasses
the entire auditorium crowd—of course, the ice cream is Harold’s treat.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv7PMTx1o6AnMi58lp6-E-EBlHOryKNdDIQJAPbPgQ2KeOuk0GnrZV3QiQWVG7VFXxA-WAHHzH8hbbVwFS9lKTcvj8WXMlVXFGfATR3zUZ11WYc7eEFwM3pHDpK6C4Mnu9hEQgz5z1QzvS/s1600/Freshman_image_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv7PMTx1o6AnMi58lp6-E-EBlHOryKNdDIQJAPbPgQ2KeOuk0GnrZV3QiQWVG7VFXxA-WAHHzH8hbbVwFS9lKTcvj8WXMlVXFGfATR3zUZ11WYc7eEFwM3pHDpK6C4Mnu9hEQgz5z1QzvS/s1600/Freshman_image_01.jpg" height="200" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">At once virtually penniless, Harold must give up his comfortable campus
housing and move into the attic room of an old, dusty boarding house, where the
character is bound to be lonely. Dismayed but resigned, he sets about tidying
up the place, starting with a mirror that is completely clouded over by what
looks like years’ worth of accumulated grime. Getting a rag, he goes to work on
the mirror, moving outward from the center. As he completes the central circle,
he stops and stares at what he has wrought. In the mirror stands the girl of
his dreams, Peggy, “the kind of girl your mother must have been.” Because of
the carefully chosen but utterly unforced camera placement, we are as surprised
as Harold to find the young woman materialized as if by magic behind our hero;
he has managed to summon a friend out of thin air. As played by <a href="http://operator_99.blogspot.com/2010/08/jobyna-ralston.html">Jobyna
Rolston</a>, who combined some of <a href="http://www.tcm.com/tcmdb/person/43927|161736/Bebe-Daniels/">Bebe Daniels</a>’
tomboyishness with <a href="http://mildreddavis.tumblr.com/">Mildred Davis</a>’
sweetness, Peggy is simultaneously vulnerable and assertive, the perfect
leading lady for Harold’s glasses characters. </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In accordance, Harold begins fussing around this girl in his very
specific way, perhaps revealing and strongly exteriorizing the normal levels of
discomfort any pure, American boy ought to feel in the presence of a lady. Lloyd
generally crossed his legs and got very, very busy, a behavior that was to
become the trademark of all his on screen romantic relationships. In <i>The Freshman</i>, he simply sits down beside
Peggy, who is sewing his shirt, and, unable to keep his eyes off her, looks
down, only to be stabbed in the throat with the needle with each loop of the
thread.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The sadness and dejection the character felt before Peggy’s appearance
could have been deepened into a poignant exploration of the injustices
innocents like Harold have to suffer if they do not conform to what a college
society deems popularity-worthy. That kind of sentiment, however, is not what
Lloyd trafficked in during his highly successful career. In contrast to <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/2014/08/through-looking-glass-buster-keatons.html">Keaton</a>
or <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Charlie%20Chaplin">Chaplin</a>,
Lloyd can be described as a great comedian—as opposed to a great artist that
simply used the comic form. His films deal in comedy of surface, often with
very little beneath.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">After establishing Harold Lamb’s comic flaw—his desperate desire to be
liked, even by presenting himself as something he is not, demonstrated by the
silly jig step topped with the idiotic line he’s memorized—the film makes a
complete reversal. The character, discovering people only pretend to like him,
that they mock him and snicker behind his back, that they spend their time with
him only because he spends his money on them, that he is only the water boy on
the football team, doesn’t change his behavior in the slightest. He merely
tries harder to adopt the campus community’s values. No comment is made on the
shallowness and obtuseness of these values in the first place.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrGupNE6qdc_4sZNUzHDTL1I-k_3L-dt8AydJnjptX_VtU0llx4xRdTndyB6GprFwJ3R373J9w8VcYRwwy9umDVG3zaa1iQp_nFS0gimd8v019dLDH9xE6Z8OHbplaWFxw4GV7sYGKEe4u/s1600/8eb76ipsybt00ts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrGupNE6qdc_4sZNUzHDTL1I-k_3L-dt8AydJnjptX_VtU0llx4xRdTndyB6GprFwJ3R373J9w8VcYRwwy9umDVG3zaa1iQp_nFS0gimd8v019dLDH9xE6Z8OHbplaWFxw4GV7sYGKEe4u/s1600/8eb76ipsybt00ts.jpg" height="320" width="285" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">But if Lloyd’s artistic vision, his view of human life, and handling of
social realities left something to be desired, his gags did not. The actor’s
work benefits from tight narrative lines, an expert control of rhythm and pace,
and carefully crafted, generally lengthy sequences that are brilliantly funny. Despite
its social banality and moral contradictions, <i>The Freshman </i>is no exception. One of the great comedic sequences in
the film takes place on the football practice field, “a place where men and
necks are nothing.” The head coach, a man “so tough he shaves with a
blow-torch,” reprimands the team for their performance on the field—or lack thereof.
Chet Trask—a college football star name if there ever was one—presides over the
players with all the authority a man with a giant “1” on his jersey is wont to
command. As Harold peevishly walks in behind the coach and Chet moves further
back, the coach ends up pointing at the main character and telling the team,
“There’s the man to model yourself after…. He’s worth more than the bunch of
you[,]… a regular go-getter, a red-blooded fighter, the kind of man that Tate
is proud of.” Turning around, the coach realizes his mistake and quickly
dismisses Harold. On second thought though, perhaps he could be of use. Harold
returns triumphantly, only to discover he is to replace the battered, broken
tackling dummy—much better <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QNitGWxvbrU">practice</a>
for the players.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Again and again, the character gets bashed and gets up, gets bashed and
gets up. “This is no petting party. That’s not half hard enough,” the coach yells
at the football team while a distraught Harold watches from the ground. The
character’s reaction shots, quick closeup cutaways from the main action,
comprise much of the comedy. “Never tackle a man this way,” the coach instructs
as his arm tightens around Harold’s neck; “you might get hurt.” Then he
demonstrates proper form, knocking the hero down and jumping on top of
him—“See? That didn’t hurt me a bit. Besides, if you tackle high, they’ll get
you with the straight arm.” We know how the straight arm will be demonstrated.
By the end of the practice, the shadows lengthening on the field, a woozy
Harold tries to pick himself up. He grabs the leg that is bent beneath him,
unfeeling and lifeless as straw. Pulling the leg completely off, he stares down
in disbelief, suddenly realizing that it is straw, the tackling dummy’s
appendage and not Harold’s. The character stands up to reveal, to his surprise (and
ours), that he is still in one piece. Lloyd’s brilliant camera angle keeps the
leg in exactly the right position to make us believe a man could mistake it for
his own.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">After practice is over, however, Harold still offers to help the coach
clean up, tells him what a great workout he’s had, and does a half-limped jig
step before crawling up the steps to his humble apartment. The football players
might have almost broken his limbs and back, but they can’t break his spirit. Like
the armed tramp he apprehended (by reducing to exhaustion through the sheer
persistence of the chase) in <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C9EtmLcg3Mc">Grandma’s Boy</a></i>
(1922), the collegians in <i>The Freshman</i>
stand no chance against Lloyd’s patient perseverance. He can’t join them and he
can’t beat them, but, by God, he can keep going at them until they just give
up.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Each of <i>The Freshman</i>’s major
gag sequences is longer, more complex, better developed, and funnier than the
one preceding it. Since everyone on campus is in on the fact that Harold is not
the college hero but the college joke, when it is time for someone to proclaim
himself host of the Fall Frolic—footing the bills as well—Harold, given his
standing, feels it is his duty and obligation to do so. The character orders
his tuxedo for the big dance, but the tailor, given to dizzy spells when not in
the immediate presence of alcohol, is only able to stitch it loosely instead of
sewing it securely, and he offers to come along to the party in case anything
happens to rip. Lloyd has planted the seemingly irrelevant, incredible seeds
for the gag sequence, and now he reaps the rewards.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When Harold lifts his arm to wave, the sleeve rips. When he goes to
take his handkerchief out of his pocket, the pocket comes off with it. When he
buttons his jacket, the back seam splits. The tailor follows him around with a
sewing kit all night, going to ridiculous lengths to go unnoticed—which range
from crouching behind Harold to fix a tear, to a much more complicated strategy
that involves ringing a bell if anything else comes undone. Of course, every
table has a bell on it, continually rung to summon waiters. Harold, pulled and
pushed on the dance floor, grows increasingly concerned, his eyes bulging out
of his sweating brow and his hands fumbling to find a rip every time he hears a
bell. At the end of a dance, his sleeve leaves with his partner, attached to
her dress like a tail. When Harold is backed up against the curtain to fix the
sleeve, the college bully walks by to ask for some money. The tailor
intervenes, pushing his arm forward through the curtain to pretend it’s
actually Harold’s. When he places ten dollars inside the bully’s pocket, a
third, unsleeved arm appears from behind the curtain to retrieve the bill.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT6ztBBBHT-uNlJCL40eNDmaPSUImR24tol1oBo6ZK6NZaDrtNNAKUDt9wzwN1CUWdTYdJNCJuORCV4YXQf4qRTmZ7vRNC264U5YeBDSOVn1-1xaYy7we4D5zr0-HGb-61qbgR_-v4hb_h/s1600/maxresdefault.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT6ztBBBHT-uNlJCL40eNDmaPSUImR24tol1oBo6ZK6NZaDrtNNAKUDt9wzwN1CUWdTYdJNCJuORCV4YXQf4qRTmZ7vRNC264U5YeBDSOVn1-1xaYy7we4D5zr0-HGb-61qbgR_-v4hb_h/s1600/maxresdefault.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Talking to another lady, Harold nervously twirls a thread in his pants,
and the seam opens. When he backs to the tailor’s corner for a hasty repair
job, the sequence is brilliantly and hilariously staged. Harold is apparently
sitting at a table with a woman making casual conversation; the camera moves to
reveal he is in fact lying face down on his seat, his legs spread behind him
through the curtain that hides the tailor. When the man has another dizzy spell
and falls against Harold’s legs, the main character slowly feels himself
dragged down under the table in the midst of a polite conversation. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Seeing Peggy, who is working the coat-check concession, smelling the
bouquet of flowers he has given her, Harold walks up to her and, every hint of
shyness and awkwardness gone, kisses her. When she reciprocates, his chest
swells with pride and the buttons of his suspenders pop off. Quickly, all the
buttons go, and, with no better option at hand, Harold stuffs a fork through
the excess fabric to tighten the pants. What he doesn’t realize is that he
grabbed the table cloth along with the item of silverware, and the beautiful
table arrangement comes crashing down as he walks away with the cloth for a
train. When a waiter tries to right this situation, Harold is left,
predictably, without his pants.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_xGRBsvRFBfkCawRR6UoIHSE3Dmz_LywsaBwDUVsMnY31zY1vNJrXltjMEwMFhABdCD8g0psVyLcP3G05CjG0EtyO25n4jFtUb792VxjuqjVC3r7DQ21Jbc4TyUDkpp0gcRCFOHnolOVG/s1600/freshman2sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_xGRBsvRFBfkCawRR6UoIHSE3Dmz_LywsaBwDUVsMnY31zY1vNJrXltjMEwMFhABdCD8g0psVyLcP3G05CjG0EtyO25n4jFtUb792VxjuqjVC3r7DQ21Jbc4TyUDkpp0gcRCFOHnolOVG/s1600/freshman2sm.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The entire sequence, a model of visual and comic inventiveness,
presents a perfect blend of rhythm and information, giving us the ripping
pieces in closeup without obscuring the comic human focus of the whole. The end
of the scene, however, turns from comic to (almost) tragic. The students have
spent a gala night dancing and drinking at Harold’s expense and keeping their
true opinion of him a secret. At the height of the party, the college bully
tries to force himself on Peggy. Harold instantly snaps into action to protect
his girl; preparing for battle, he takes his jacket off (in five pieces) and
single-mindedly marches to the rescue. In a stunned rage, he knocks the bully
down, whereupon he’s venomously informed of everyone’s actual opinion of him
and the vicious inside joke his life has become. Harold looks at Peggy, whose
quiet, ashamed glance tells him it’s all true. An image of rueful dejection
flashes across the screen, an image of a nice chap distressed that he is no
more than he is, mouth almost squared in pain, head bent slightly to one
shoulder. As soon as it appeared, the image is gone; to stop Peggy’s tears,
Harold pretends not to care, forces a shaken grin, and gives the most
indifferent shrug he can manage. It is Peggy’s turn to be candid, scolding
Harold for pretending to be something he’s not for so long, convincing the hero
there is only one thing wrong with him: he has never been himself. Fired by her
faith in him, he promises to set everything straight and show them what he’s
made of in the next day’s climactic football game.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The big game against Union State is <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yqql5HD1wMs">the film’s ultimate comic
sequence</a>. With thirteen minutes left, Tate is trailing behind 3-0. Players
are dropping like flies. There are two substitutes left, one of which is
Harold—it is as yet unknown to him that he is only the water boy. The coach
motions to our hero. He runs onto the field, where he is ordered to take off
his jersey (number 0) to replace one that has been ripped. He walks back to the
bench, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so hopeful for an injury to
occur. When the other substitute is put into the game, Harold expectantly
waits; at last, someone gets hurt. He gets up and prepares to play. He is told
he is only the water boy. He gets mad. And when Harold gets mad, Harold does
things. “You listen now,” he tells the coach; “I’ve been working—and
fighting—just for this chance, and you’ve got to give it to me.” He demands to
be taken seriously and to be offered an opportunity to prove himself with all
the confidence of a man who knows he will succeed. Impressed—and, frankly, out
of options—the coach agrees.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl3XM1DxsPGE-3iG_zO83EM459gSRnVWbajnlstdgXcGZampe6Y8iWUISgJGcQaoh-e_-GP9pXgJ7RFqv0H8HbCsNnWg1CKvdUiN70VEXyHemBWo75pcub8BFbSkU3mIVMbI9-C64u-ptk/s1600/Freshman_image_02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl3XM1DxsPGE-3iG_zO83EM459gSRnVWbajnlstdgXcGZampe6Y8iWUISgJGcQaoh-e_-GP9pXgJ7RFqv0H8HbCsNnWg1CKvdUiN70VEXyHemBWo75pcub8BFbSkU3mIVMbI9-C64u-ptk/s1600/Freshman_image_02.jpg" height="200" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Without his jersey on, Harold is the only player wearing white, a
significant visual contrast to a field saturated in black. “Come on, you old
women,” Harold urges his teammates. “Don’t you know how to fight?” If there’s
one thing the character knows about sports—and life—it’s how to take a hit and
get back up. After a rousing speech, the game is resumed. It takes the whole of
two seconds for Harold to be laid flat on his back. Waking up on a stretcher,
however, his first impulse is to run back to the field. Trampled on again,
knocked out of the way like nothing more than a pestering fly, he refuses to
admit defeat. His characteristic good fortune follows him onto the field; when he
sits on the turf, a pass drops into his lap. As he runs for another pass, a fan
tosses his hat. Harold grabs the hat and races for a touchdown. Later, as the
ball once again floats towards him, a vendor releases a load of balloons.
Harold scans the sky for a football coming his way and seems to see a dozen
balls bobbing in the air. When Harold finds the real one, he unties its string
and twirls it like Yo-Yo, a strategy so successful at fooling the enemy he
almost scores a touchdown. As he is about to cross the line, a factory whistle
blows; Harold thinks the game is over and drops the ball. But, still, he does
not give up. With only seconds left on the last play of the game, he blocks a
punt. A Union State player picks it up, but fumbles. Harold scoops it up and
runs. When State players try to bring him down, he drags them towards the goal.
The players pile up. The gun goes off. When the human jumble is unpiled, the
ball lies over the line. Tate has won because of Harold, who now receives a
ride off the field on the shoulders of his teammates. After bringing victory,
he becomes a hero, and the entire campus imitates his jig step prologue to
shaking hands. In the locker room, he gets a love note from Peggy. Reading it,
he leans against the shower and turns the water on, soaking himself. Fade out. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Harold Lamb might be wetter by the end of the film, but he is also
wiser. Or at least that’s what we’re supposed to believe, although he changed
close to nothing in his behavior; he only became more vocal about it. If the
ending seems contrived today, it is only because we haven’t shared Lloyd’s times
and assumptions. By the release of <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R7gxh_NkhJI">Mad Wednesday</a></i>, the
Great Depression and a World War had intervened. In the interim, the myth that
was so strongly believed in in the twenties—that of the good, honest American
climbing to success through pluck and luck—had slipped away. Success was no
longer a matter of determination and hard work, but a much more cynical outgoing
parade of irresponsibility, trickery, and bluff.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0002545/?ref_=nv_sr_4">Sturges</a>’
<i>Mad Wednesday</i> </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">(a.k.a. <i>The Sin of Harold Diddlebock) </i></span></span>opens where <i>The Freshman</i> left off, quite literally;
its first reel is the last one of Lloyd’s silent classic. Adapted to sound, the
crowd cheers for Harold’s win, among its members businessman E.J. Waggleberry.
Carried away with Tate’s victory, Waggleberry offers young Harold a job in his
advertising firm after he graduates. “I may not look like it,” the man says,
“but I am opportunity.” Here’s another small triumph for Harold to add to its
list, one that we hope will include many more to come. It won’t. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9TdNo0Zq645xe-bcY2nnU_U8xQrE99DC37eD4Zd89_KGseBuCIZf13x-dEX_S4aJ1Q5lewZdpKmAtt0gvJkNaWVLBsEZOZ3U96rxCjOcPvaU07vLdaurkAeclNkxLwvFmOyi0ZQAuHCpN/s1600/The_Sin_of_Harold_Diddlebock_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9TdNo0Zq645xe-bcY2nnU_U8xQrE99DC37eD4Zd89_KGseBuCIZf13x-dEX_S4aJ1Q5lewZdpKmAtt0gvJkNaWVLBsEZOZ3U96rxCjOcPvaU07vLdaurkAeclNkxLwvFmOyi0ZQAuHCpN/s1600/The_Sin_of_Harold_Diddlebock_1.jpg" height="245" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When Harold shows up to Waggleberry’s firm, the man hardly remembers
him. He begins to catch up: “I presume I offered you a job. I usually do that
when I get excited.” The hopeful employee’s spirits drop.<span> </span>“But you shall have it,” Waggleberry
continues. With me, a promise is a sacred pledge; my word is my bond; my
handshake is like a certified check; my check…” He trails off, only to have
Harold complete his thought: “He who loses honor loses everything.” It’s nice
to see college has not dulled any of the character’s optimism. Of course,
Waggleberry cannot start Harold at the top; “that would be too easy. We do it
the American way: we give them an opportunity to work up from the bottom. What
satisfaction, what a feeling of accomplishment you will have when you are able
to look back from whatever rung of the ladder your go-get-‘em-ness would have
placed you upon and say I, <i>I</i> did
that!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Harold is thrilled to be offered this opportunity and ready to climb to
the top on his own merits. He says he doesn’t know anything about the ad
business, however. “Good!” Waggleberry says. “Then you won’t have anything to
unlearn! You’ll be able to start right in the basement and your rise will be
all the more spectacular.” Harold is full of ideas for his future job,
practically bursting with them. “Contain them,” he is told: “The idea
department is a little congested at the moment. It always is, for that matter.
There never seems to be any shortage of… oh, but that will only depress you.”
Instead, he is offered something much, much better: “a little nook in the
bookkeeping department, a regular little niche; you can almost call it a
cranny.” Waggleberry explains this is exactly what he had always wanted, you
see, but his father unfortunately left him the business—“Just one of those
things,” he says regretfully.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Already getting busy, Harold takes up his place at a desk, covering the
entire wall next to it in signs bearing slogans like “Success is just around
the corner.” He will soon find out, as his future friend Wormie will say, that,
in reality, the only thing just around the corner is posterity. The camera pans
right to a calendar; the dates change until it reads 1945. Sturges returns to
reveal Harold sitting at the same desk, doing the same job, with the same
stupid signs on the wall behind him. Time has erased any trace of the youthful
promise Harold once presented, burying it under years of bureaucracy and the
proven falsity and idiocy of those American clichés tacked to his wall. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Defeated and slow, his voice feeble and cracked, his their thinning, Harold
is forcibly ‘retired’ by his boss in yet another two-faced speech, given the
inevitable gold watch and the two thousand dollars that represent his life’s
savings—he had more, but he invested in his own company and lost it all in the
market crash. Still a lowly clerk—who has loved and lost a total of seven
beautiful sisters in turn—Harold Diddlebock has wasted the one thing he had to
begin with: his ideas. “You have not only stopped progressing,” he is told,
“you have stopped thinking. You not only make the same mistakes year after
year, you don’t even change your apologies. You have become a bottleneck.” <i>Mad Wednesday</i> functions almost as the
slapstick equivalent to <i><a href="http://www.pelister.org/literature/ArthurMiller/Miller_Salesman.pdf">Death
of a Salesman</a></i>;<i> </i>for the first
time on screen, we see Lloyd has stopped moving forward, and the image is
heartbreaking. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg3zGtBCvIxzt-i0Oik6DfF1pL2vPJuf3RAUChWV4jowizo_nnAma3nwMXhdhyEZtbdaQoNGdaQfOPjP87vSJHOnKa4lHybdCduvCXpo6AZTWnikF_Oap9qcCAqzZIjtiLKo4RtowaG4E9/s1600/diddlebockjackiewormy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg3zGtBCvIxzt-i0Oik6DfF1pL2vPJuf3RAUChWV4jowizo_nnAma3nwMXhdhyEZtbdaQoNGdaQfOPjP87vSJHOnKa4lHybdCduvCXpo6AZTWnikF_Oap9qcCAqzZIjtiLKo4RtowaG4E9/s1600/diddlebockjackiewormy.jpg" height="292" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Realizing everything he has ever believed, platitudes as well as
ideals, has betrayed him, Harold goes “mad” and does everything condemned by
the small-town spirit: he falls in with city slickers, he drinks hard
liquor—one of the movie’s funniest scenes presents a high-pitched, strangled
screech that sounds like “a cross between a Mongolian link and a wounded moose”
as one of the effects of alcohol on Harold—he blows his savings, he bets on horses,
he buys the loudest checked suit and biggest hat he can find, he bullies
bankers with a lion on a leash and gets arrested for it. And, in the end, he is
a success. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">“Speedy” has managed, once again, against all odds, to win; the money,
the girl, friends, respect—whatever it is that he wanted he got. But his
relinquishing of the values that his accomplishments were built on speaks to
the values that govern a modern world, as well as the unreality of the pure
image Lloyd created in the silent period. Perhaps <i>Mad Wednesday</i> even functions as a comment on the shallowness of the
glasses character’s goals (success and popularity) in the first place. Whatever
its accomplishments, Struges’ film demonstrates, above all, that the actor’s
gifts, like his beliefs, were not suited to a post-Depression era and a
cinematic universe filled with talking and noise. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">But even if the classic Lloyd character and, to some extent, Sturges’
version as well lacked hints of introverted depths, the comedian managed a
complete identification with the values of the times. Early in his career,
Lloyd dropped the search for a comic image larger and stranger than himself to
offer his own determined ambition as image enough. He didn’t create an outsized
figure sufficiently bizarre and ambivalent to function as myth, falling
instead, because of who and what he was, into a myth that already existed: the
myth of the good American, one still devoutly believed in in the 1920s.This
hero was aggressive and innocent at once, possessor of callous ambition as well
as a clear conscience; his energy and determination were virtuous energy and
determination, born out of the noblest motives and spent in the cause of good.
A bespectacled, benevolent and brash boy whom nothing could defeat, or even
deter, he was all the while a shy and awkward boy whose very naiveté seemed to
stem from an excess of good will. With a dual belief in vigor and virtue,
striking the ideal balance of guts and goodness, he embodied a national
archetype. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In <i><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0014945/">Girl Shy</a></i>, made a year
before <i>The Freshman</i>, the titular girl
finds herself on the way to the altar, about to marry the wrong man, with
Harold miles away. The character races feverishly to the rescue by motorcycle,
streetcar, and horse cart; snatching vehicle after vehicle in his rush, he
leaps into an empty car which is immediately towed away backwards. The image is
independently amusing, original and self-contained, but most of its force and
our amusement comes from the sheer incongruity of Harold—in any setting—moving
backwards. His trajectory in films as well as real life moves ever onward and
upwards on his way to the top (of buildings or otherwise) as all good American
were expected to do. The climb might be harder twenty years later, the methods
less innocent, the dreams less virtuous, the results less innocuous, and the
audience less likely to wholeheartedly accept his accomplishment, but Lloyd
again makes us believe that wherever he wants to go, he will get there.</span></span></div>
Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-62185267001221281902014-10-12T10:23:00.000-04:002014-10-12T10:23:19.201-04:00The 400 Blows (1959)<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg17xSw9lDm-EoufZJPuJjR3rlBtaOGY0VUUmkvo3yBqMEAZIujV-1bYW5WTfh0DWsqORRxnsiMFMiMfxNEysoPII5MJo0nylB8G3XO1ZHq0H-VD3OQh_aBcWxlkwxFHJzSB_PF8Gb7eRIe/s1600/fenced-in.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg17xSw9lDm-EoufZJPuJjR3rlBtaOGY0VUUmkvo3yBqMEAZIujV-1bYW5WTfh0DWsqORRxnsiMFMiMfxNEysoPII5MJo0nylB8G3XO1ZHq0H-VD3OQh_aBcWxlkwxFHJzSB_PF8Gb7eRIe/s1600/fenced-in.jpg" height="430" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Francois Truffaut’s <i>The
400 Blows</i> is one of the most important films of the French New Wave and one
of the most intensely moving coming of age stories ever to be put on screen.
The director’s first film, made before his 27<sup>th</sup> birthday, the movie
is an exemplar of Truffaut’s best qualities as a filmmaker: his clarity,
honesty, directness, his simplicity and deep feeling. A semiautobiographical movie,
<i>The 400 Blows</i> follows the 12 year old
Antoine Dionel (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0529543/">Jean-Pierre Leaud</a>,
who would reprise the role another <a href="http://www.criterion.com/boxsets/346-the-adventures-of-antoine-doinel">four
times</a>), typecast by his mostly absent parents and socially incompetent
teachers as a troublemaker and a liar, and lets us share in his minor joys and
sorrows. The film’s personal nature is made obvious even before the opening
credits, when we find out the film is dedicated to influential critic of <i><a href="http://www.cahiersducinema.com/">Cahiers
du Cinema</a></i> and Truffaut’s mentor, <a href="http://offscreen.com/view/bazin4">Andre Bazin</a>. The sense of intimacy
and immediacy continues through the first few shots of the movie, long fluid
takes of the middle-class quarters of the city in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower.
This is a Parisian’s Paris,
seen in traveling shots of the empty streets and buildings and low angle shots directly
under the tower, not the postcard cityscape establishing shots.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiy5a3Mn86-kYZ8T0fPqs9W2hw18wwNTVaqkttRLxekrgbawUYKXORt3NNQxCxvGpgby2LHmqqQRRdJN85tQ8uSASaqxTjdS66qldmbR33UcxQsIl96Zi4Zez9a9lMHprJ2vr9Rwi68zKN/s1600/968full-the-400-blows-screenshot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiy5a3Mn86-kYZ8T0fPqs9W2hw18wwNTVaqkttRLxekrgbawUYKXORt3NNQxCxvGpgby2LHmqqQRRdJN85tQ8uSASaqxTjdS66qldmbR33UcxQsIl96Zi4Zez9a9lMHprJ2vr9Rwi68zKN/s1600/968full-the-400-blows-screenshot.jpg" height="225" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">What makes this small personal film a masterpiece is its
unrelenting attention to detail and intimate nuances, the little things and
private moments, like the young Antoine lighting a candle before a little
shrine to Balzac in his bedroom, or the few light-hearted scenes, like the
priceless <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c2qaiunRemc">bird’s eye
shots of physical education class</a>, as the teacher leads the group in two
rows and, in pairs, the students start peeling off until he is left with only
two or three boys to lead, or the sudden shift in tone after the protagonist
almost burns the house down. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Antoine is a ruthlessly self-possessed, solemn, detached
young man who lives with his parents in a crowded walkup so small it seems that
they are always squeezing out of each other’s way. His mother is commanding,
high-strung and he needs to “handle her gently.” She always seems distracted,
“under a lot of pressure,” and is having an affair with a coworker. Antoine’s
adoptive father is nice enough, easy-going and friendly, but doesn’t really
seem to care that much about or be too attached to the boy. “We’ll send him to
the Jesuits or army camp” is their solution to any problems Antoine might be
going through. Dysfunctional families are apparently more common than happy
ones: Antoine’s best friend and partner in crime Rene says his mom drinks all
the time and his dad spends all day at the races. After Antoine starts having
problems at school and runs away from home a few times, his parents decide he
is a lost cause, that “maybe it’s in his glands,” and ship him off, yet again,
this time to a juvenile detention center. Tremendous insights into the boy’s
emotional confusion and his unspoken agonies are presented in a matter-of-fact,
realistic manner, without a false note on the filmmaker’s part. Like <a href="http://www.theyshootpictures.com/desicavittorio.htm">De Sica</a>,
Truffaut is a sensitive director of children, emphasizing their innocence, naïveté,
and resilience without sentimentality or condescension.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid_vFMpjTZTP60kPgpPCEa9wnEr3zCaTqXHLPOsi0dp65VeZhj0Gxp25bSd76ZJtYQB3KVUxq-wG6soGBkH1UPEYPNrGX4wxcP818OxcaHn3bEvVYCnCrs5HKIIFDf-wdrvwAvbRssB-1a/s1600/The_400_Blows_26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid_vFMpjTZTP60kPgpPCEa9wnEr3zCaTqXHLPOsi0dp65VeZhj0Gxp25bSd76ZJtYQB3KVUxq-wG6soGBkH1UPEYPNrGX4wxcP818OxcaHn3bEvVYCnCrs5HKIIFDf-wdrvwAvbRssB-1a/s1600/The_400_Blows_26.jpg" height="134" width="320" /></a>The contrast between freedom and entrapment is prevalent all
through the film. Even the ride in the carousel the boy takes one day when he
is skipping school can be defined in these terms. As the roter spins and
gravity is defeated by centrifugal force, Antoine is stuck to the wall,
suspended above the floor. This creates a sense of freedom—he is defying the gravitational
pull—but also a sense of confusion, especially in the way this scene was filmed.
We are not entirely sure which way is up, and neither is Antoine for most of
the film. In the city, objects seem elongated, the buildings tall and imposing,
lining narrow streets, and the inside locations (the school and especially
Antoine’s apartment) also create a sense of confinement, with long corridors
and hallways. Contrasted to this is Rene’s house, filled with big rooms and
open spaces, where the boys are truly free—smoking cigars and gambling—because
the parents are never home. After Antoine’s parents hand him over to the
authorities, he is contained in small cells and driven away in a police wagon
with prostitutes and thieves, as he peers through the bars like a young
Dickensian hero, tears streaming down his face. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The loosely fitted shots of the
sea, which Antoine sees for the first time at the end of the film, are the
image of freedom, and also uncertainty. The <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a4jGNoag_1g">famous last shot</a> of the
movie, a zoom in to a freeze frame, captures the essence of the character. He
is caught somewhere between land and water, between past and future, and he
doesn’t know where he’s headed.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span>Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-72811397677306213932014-09-21T16:15:00.000-04:002014-09-21T16:15:39.562-04:00Baggage: Objects and Spaces as Markers of the Emotional Journey in Wes Anderson’s "The Darjeeling Limited"<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Objects and spaces define the near-maniacally meticulous,
color-coordinated, carefully framed and trinket-filled worlds of Wes Anderson’s
films. Characters’ possessions and surroundings create and communicate their
identities and serve as markers of their gradual evolution throughout the
movies, the changing relationships between objects, spaces and characters
defining their transformation as they undergo emotional and often physical
journeys. Perhaps nowhere is this more evident than in the director’s <i>The Darjeeling Limited</i> (2007), the
director’s most conventional road movie to date. The film features all the
trademark characteristics of a Wes Anderson movie: a nostalgic concern with the
past and an exploration of childhood, “literal or prolongued” in the form of young
men in a state of arrested adolescence clambering for spiritual fulfillment, sibling
rivalry and family drama, absent parent(s), feelings of meaninglessness, repressed
grief and suicidal depression, tonal tension between irony and sincerity, and
almost obsessively detailed composition (Orgeron 42). It also contains
Anderson’s most blatant—and blatantly, self-consciously clichéd—exploration of
the journey theme and its reflection in the film’s production design, costuming,
and setting.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOICR-o3aBQ3kVwgM6n-uYXAe_CgZLlhE0SuPj3cOTbgU1FAzQuwZaBr6cCKpG3yDphMXoaSVND2FazhE0wqtmZ-zGIC76Htpw1sWjfQF62dyu5NQoFaEreEusoGopIOMAwDp__nyQSvsO/s1600/The_Darjeeling_Limited_12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOICR-o3aBQ3kVwgM6n-uYXAe_CgZLlhE0SuPj3cOTbgU1FAzQuwZaBr6cCKpG3yDphMXoaSVND2FazhE0wqtmZ-zGIC76Htpw1sWjfQF62dyu5NQoFaEreEusoGopIOMAwDp__nyQSvsO/s1600/The_Darjeeling_Limited_12.jpg" height="132" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">“Wake up, Jack” are the first words spoken in <i>The Darjeeling Limited</i>, and the prompting applies to all three of
the characters, Francis (played by Owen Wilson), Peter (Adrien Brody), and Jack
(Jason Schwartzman) Whitman, indeed spelling out the purpose and ultimate
result of their pilgrimage: spiritual and emotional awakening. With lives in
disarray, the movie’s wealthy trio of white Westerners embarks on a (very
self-conscious) spiritual journey across India not merely for the sake of
seeing the world, but also for the healing of personal ailments. Their hope is
to rebuild family relationships among themselves in the absence of both
parents, to “become brothers again, like we used to be.” This journey, a forced
family march to enlightenment, complete with laminated itineraries and detailed
user instructions for spiritual rituals, becomes a desperate attempt of the
characters to escape their station in life and an expression of their
unsatisfied yearning for mythic adventure (Foundas 30).<b> </b>The Whitman brothers’ mission is “true modern-American absurd,” in
the words of Francis, to “find ourselves, seek the unknown and learn about it,…
be completely open and say yes to everything, even if it’s shocking and
painful” (Norris 30).</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As an updated version of the classic, often nostalgic and romanticized
road movie, <i>The Darjeeling Limited</i>
self-consciously engages the long American tradition of free men traveling with
nothing holding them back from the world at their feet. As Emily J. May points
out in “<i>The Darjeeling Limited</i> and
the New American Traveller,” Anderson’s characters are not driven, as the road
warriors of <i>Easy Rider</i>, by freedom
and love as much as fear and ennui. The road film’s romantic ideal was already
achieved in New Hollywood works of the late sixties and early seventies, and <i>Darjeeling</i> follows in the wake of this realized
fantasy, focusing on that era’s privileged progeny’s listless existence and
futile attempts towards meaning foreshadowed by Jean Baudriallard’s <i>America</i> (May). In its barely veiled
desperation and selfishness, the Whitmans’ adventure becomes an exploration of
the easy riders’ failure, a portrait of collective disappointment with the
spiritual emptiness of middle-class American life, the characters traveling
halfway across the world to search for truth and meaning that are perceived as
unavailable in the cold, crowded cities they hail from. The sense of
dislocation associated with the loss of a parent is only heightened in the film
by the characters’ being in motion, away from home, in a foreign country
(Baschiera 127). Three greedy tourists grabbing at epiphany, they go from one
Spiritual Place to another, ringing bells, kneeling, praying and donning
ridiculously undersized ritual head-wraps all in an attempt to heal their
emotional and, in Francis’s case,
physical wounds.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4SSWyHZJazS8X1h973SxRgJCXW1LTo6yyBwws4twC5REmABlNuZQCong8fH18vPtcWLn4Iial3F4DwrcQ6jjJ4aAgjA6xQMEzhDIVRysS69bIlwRfUUeqDbnL0otlvTmm0yAkxk4QsH6_/s1600/2.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4SSWyHZJazS8X1h973SxRgJCXW1LTo6yyBwws4twC5REmABlNuZQCong8fH18vPtcWLn4Iial3F4DwrcQ6jjJ4aAgjA6xQMEzhDIVRysS69bIlwRfUUeqDbnL0otlvTmm0yAkxk4QsH6_/s1600/2.png" height="132" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkNnmsk6uItbEe0n79mn3IBNERkVCUy3CL9jR6aAz56_fdn5YW8Ayu3gGEfwaFSgZrKsBTfYMbhnSpP34gllJl2QaUegM3DAOiBkgxICGo8o-ov7TC-kCEnJTHEaMcTZfEJI8leL2G-RPC/s1600/0493650_46418_MC_Tx360.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkNnmsk6uItbEe0n79mn3IBNERkVCUy3CL9jR6aAz56_fdn5YW8Ayu3gGEfwaFSgZrKsBTfYMbhnSpP34gllJl2QaUegM3DAOiBkgxICGo8o-ov7TC-kCEnJTHEaMcTZfEJI8leL2G-RPC/s1600/0493650_46418_MC_Tx360.jpg" height="172" width="320" /></a></span>This postmodern, post-capitalist emotional malaise manifests itself in
the film most obviously in the characters’ material objects and clothing. The expensive
European suits and accessories the three brothers own not only display their
social status, but help the audience visualize their profound displacement in this
new environment. The color of the characters’ clothes, for the most part muted
and monochrome (gray, black, white, tan, and beige) stands in stark contrasted
to the exaggeratedly bright, supersaturated surroundings that burst with warm,
lively yellows, oranges, and reds and vivid greens and blues, an imaginary,
candy-colored cinematic India of the mind. This auteur-idealized land is “too loaded
with color and detail” to be hemmed in by the version the characters initially
think will heal their wounds (Dorey 46). It is only when the brothers forego
their usual attire in favor of traditional Indian clothing for the funeral that
they first start to become immersed in their environment. It is at this time
that the characters truly begin to heal, the funeral in India doing the work of
mourning inadequately performed at their father’s funeral, the moment
suggesting an emotional undercurrent that binds the brothers with the villagers
through grief as the Kinks’ “Strangers” plays on the soundtrack (Stephenson). </div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The trip marks Francis, Peter, and Jack’s reunion a year after their
father’s death. All three have been—and still are—strongly affected by this
loss, and their journey becomes a necessary step in mourning their father and
letting go of their grief, not unlike a rehabilitation program with India
serving as the clinic. As Lotte
Philipsen points out in “Synechdoche in Wes Anderson and J.D. Salinger,”
everything the brothers do on the road, including searching for their mother,
is connected, if not indeed dedicated, to their father. The characters’
inability to move on is made tangible in the form of their belongings, which
they lug around in their dead father’s suitcases, blatant, boxy, bulky Marc
Jacobs-designed metaphors for emotional baggage. Always more than decorative,
the objects in Wes Anderson films contribute significantly to the visualization
of the storytelling and to the creation of the characters’ identity (Baschiera
118). This “material synecdoche,” as Philipsen terms it, allows the objects to
show viewers the whole personality of a character or the meaning of a situation
by focusing on and emphasizing one particular object. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Accordingly, the tan leather bags and trunks in the film, decorated by
the director’s own brother Eric, serve a much more important purpose than
color-coordination with the brown and turquoise interior design of the titular
train. Anderson masterfully uses the running gag of the boys laboriously
loading and unloading the luggage from buses, cats, and taxis, dragging it
through deserts, across rivers, stacking it on platforms, piling it at the
train station, and humorously depositing it next to a yak to define his
characters’ inner struggles—as a hilarious sight gag, even when the brothers
ride on a motorcycle, that quintessential image of American freedom and non-conformance
to the mainstream, their suitcases follow behind them on an over-loaded van. The
focus on luggage in <i>The Darjeeling
Limited </i>and the recurring image of the characters running with their bags
suggest a strong symbolic meaning, implying that the brothers are figuratively
on the run, in this case from the assorted domestic and emotional problems in
their lives, chief of which is the refusal to accept their father’s death. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The objects featured most prominently in <i>The Darjeeling Limited</i> are the ones the Whitmans’ absent father has
left behind: his sunglasses, car keys, immobile red Porsche, a retro shaving
set, and the suitcases themselves, personalized with the father’s monogramed
ode to himself. It is through these that the brothers maintain a connection to
their deceased parent, and the three are constantly interacting with these
belongings: they carry them around, they talk about them, and even fight about
them—indeed fighting about who gets to preserve their father’s memory through
objectification—as they wander between holy sites. Each of these possessions
holds important connotations, as do the characters’ change in interaction with
these objects as their feelings towards the loss of their father change.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The glasses that Peter wears still have his father’s prescription, as
Francis points out. The son’s wearing of them could indicate that he perhaps
wants to see things from his father’s perspective, but also points to the
impossibility of such a task. Spectacles, generally a device used to understand
things better, to see them more clearly, in <i>Darjeeling
</i>become a barrier between Peter and the world around him, making it harder
for him to see clearly specifically because of the unnecessary prescription.
The other object directly related to Peter is the manual razor, which he uses
multiple times in the film. The old-fashioned nature of this object imprints it
with a feeling of nostalgia that permeates Anderson’s work, while it also
remains emblematic of the father’s masculinity. Peter himself must learn
through the course of the movie how to grow up and “be a man” in the
traditionalist view of the phrase instead of continuing to run away from the
looming responsibilities of being a father himself. By the end of the film he
will achieve this goal by letting go of the past—in the form of the
suitcases—and embracing the future, in which he will perhaps become a better
father than his own. This change is significantly marked by the purchase of a
very different object, a new vest Peter has bought for his son.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjes9sQHB3PpuHHBXzIqoW56V1OZ0LUwZ2_Udwk_PGtNOIR6QS4aigqSeTM6C72xAq3a9H3_B1yCU6deVV8K1s7FPiNiwEzqeyE0xhip4o_WP8os_TbmkGA6SUkJX3QnkMDfD9v0So1AsDw/s1600/porsche-912-1968-194720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjes9sQHB3PpuHHBXzIqoW56V1OZ0LUwZ2_Udwk_PGtNOIR6QS4aigqSeTM6C72xAq3a9H3_B1yCU6deVV8K1s7FPiNiwEzqeyE0xhip4o_WP8os_TbmkGA6SUkJX3QnkMDfD9v0So1AsDw/s1600/porsche-912-1968-194720.jpg" height="133" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The rest of the Whitman family patriarch’s belongings—the car keys, the
car, and the suitcases are linked with the idea of travel. Out of these, the
red Porsche undoubtedly becomes a surrogate for the parent himself in the
flashback sequence. Peter insists on picking up the car at Luftwaffe Automotive
before the funeral, frantically trying to restart the Porsche even though the
battery is dead, an obvious attempt to not let go of his father. It is in the
trunk of the car that the brothers find their dad’s final belongings, the last
suitcase in the set, which contains Jack’s (unread) manuscript, dedicated to
his father. The book, <i>Invisible Ink and
Other Stories</i>, is the object that most defines Jack as one of Anderson’s
author characters, and it contains, illustrated on its cover, another important
marker of the character’s identity and inability to let go of the past—his
manipulative ex-girlfriend’s perfume, “Voltaire #6.” Jack’s attempt to get over
this unhappy relationship by breaking the bottle on the train points out the
futility of his attempt to forget her—the compartment will now continue to
smell like her for the rest of the trip. It is only at the end of the movie,
when he finally—and humorously—acknowledge that his writing is actually
autobiographical that he is able to move on, finishing his latest short story
by writing “He would not be going to Italy [to meet his girlfriend].”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxulND1jgqrZm1VCdjhLx0p7qCEYCBRovS8GH_gMumpHpoUTnE6mdL1w1AXwTIeh64CeFrRlJoIu1SeLt6C9OOo_hyOe_DnieXFquKQpjgExCmotS-Dgq0FFkU_E57YVVTakWpzBmHlcA2/s1600/tumblr_m3rf2ze73O1qjb265o1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxulND1jgqrZm1VCdjhLx0p7qCEYCBRovS8GH_gMumpHpoUTnE6mdL1w1AXwTIeh64CeFrRlJoIu1SeLt6C9OOo_hyOe_DnieXFquKQpjgExCmotS-Dgq0FFkU_E57YVVTakWpzBmHlcA2/s1600/tumblr_m3rf2ze73O1qjb265o1_1280.jpg" height="269" width="320" /></a>The objects’ narrative significance in <i>The Darjeeling Limited</i> and their impact on the development of the
characters and the meaning of the film are so central to the movie that Stefano
Baschiera has gone as far as to suggest Anderson in effect overcomes the
separation between subjects and objects, human and non-human (118). As Thomas Dorey
observes in “Wes Anderson: Contemporary Auteurism and Digital Technology,” the director links his characters and their
possessions not only thematically, but stylistically as well through the use of his most easily recognizable
visual signature, the inserted God’s-eye closeup. Shot from above, the actors
begin to look like objects themselves, their agency removed as their authorial
dominance is undermined (68-71). In <i>Darjeeling</i>,
the most memorable of these inserts happens not only when the brothers are at
their lowest point—about to be evicted from their temporary “home,” the train,
but specifically while they are fighting <i>about
objects</i>, namely Francis’s $6,000 belt, which he has given to Peter and subsequently
asked that he return. The oldest brother’s eventual relinquishing of the belt
when he presents it as a gift for Peter’s unborn baby, however, shows how he is
growing less attached to material possessions. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The brothers’ transition from the train, for all intents and purposes a
luxury hotel on wheels, to having to travel India by foot also marks a change
in their relationship to objects and spaces. It is after they have been booted
from the train, when they are made to literally stand on their own feet, that
the film takes a sharp tonal turn. The
moment is announced with an abrupt, action-film zoom onto Francis’s face as he
unceremoniously announces, “Look at those assholes” while peering towards three
boys trying to cross a fast-flowing river. The boys’ raft overturns, and the
Whitmans race to save their Indian counterparts. The first two are recovered
safely, but Peter has trouble with the third. He emerges further downstream,
carrying a limp body. “He’s dea—He’s dead,” he stammers. “I didn’t save mine.”
This unexpected, drastic tonal shift, which James MacDowell links to the
“quirky sensibility” of the new American smart cinema, here takes on a
narrative function, the switch to a more serious mood after the boy’s death
reflecting the characters’ realization that they need to change in as well
(14-17). It is after this point that the Whitman brothers are actually prepared
to let go of the things that have so far defined them and reconsider their
priorities, an attitude which leads to their ultimate forsaking of their
physical and emotional baggage in the final scene of the film.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIqNL1n1NMYWvQq0Q3SnKJtrQLw6NgSDtqcM5EZa1Ru4orM9l6zIMawRuMWAyX9bz4zWUx0VRic8CVdWb7XLedc-Rv2-v0fEmeO6M7VHBAsS56isMXiGXbsNmU-0ReCIPgumCLdplyncDE/s1600/darj01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIqNL1n1NMYWvQq0Q3SnKJtrQLw6NgSDtqcM5EZa1Ru4orM9l6zIMawRuMWAyX9bz4zWUx0VRic8CVdWb7XLedc-Rv2-v0fEmeO6M7VHBAsS56isMXiGXbsNmU-0ReCIPgumCLdplyncDE/s1600/darj01.jpg" height="186" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Anderson’s signature slow-motion coda, although criticized by some as
“one of the most bludgeoningly obvious bits of symbolism ever put on film,” works
specifically because of the intentionally clichéd use of objects as symbols
throughout the entire film (Aisenberg). The closing scene forms a perfect
bookend to the sequence that opens <i>Darjeeling</i>,
in which an unnamed Bill Murray races to catch The Darjeeling Limited to the
Kinks’ elegiac “This Time Tomorrow.” The final scene, in which “Powerman”
completes the Kinks’ triptych, shows the brothers, once again late for the
train, running but hopelessly slowed down by all their absurd baggage. “Dad’s
bags aren’t going to make the train!” one of the brothers yells, and one by one
the Whitmans discard the suitcases and trunks to climb upon life’s train free
and unencumbered by the past.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">By the end of the film, Francis and his brothers have managed, clumsily
and perhaps unexpectedly, just what they set out to accomplish, a spiritual
journey. “I guess I still have some healing to do,” Francis ventures after he
unwraps his head and the three characters study his battered face in a bathroom
mirror. “You’re getting there, though,” Jack says, while Peter comments,
“Anyway, it’s definitely going to add a lot of character to you.” The obvious
couching of emotional ailments in terms of physical scars notwithstanding, all
of these statements are true. The Whitmans still have some healing to do, but
their pilgrimage has served as an awakening to the need for change. Throughout Anderson’s
movie the characters’ emotional transformations are charted through their
changing relationship to the objects and spaces they interact with, each shift
in this interaction marking another step in the journey. <i>The Darjeeling</i> <i>Limited</i>
is, of course, only one example of Anderson’s use of costuming, production
design and setting to communicate his characters’ identity and evolution. <i>Bottle Rocket</i> (1996), <i>The Royal Tenenbaums </i>(2001), <i>The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou</i>
(2004), <i>Moonrise Kingdom</i> (2012), and
most recently <i>The Grand Budapest Hotel</i>
(2014) can also be seen as emotional/psychological journey films in which the
characters’ progress is marked by their relationship to objects and spaces.</span></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyuftCsie-C1fhp8J_51uirq_RVT0h81-DnAsc-Ytjhzb4T9VC1VRRrECdorDauvcVFgXAgDJa_-K36_zvfNIsLWfTQuwEFPGXFfmmOjdWmD0Tw2XfI87NiILxll_eVhAljWdTCOMdVqV2/s1600/968full-the-darjeeling-limited-screenshot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyuftCsie-C1fhp8J_51uirq_RVT0h81-DnAsc-Ytjhzb4T9VC1VRRrECdorDauvcVFgXAgDJa_-K36_zvfNIsLWfTQuwEFPGXFfmmOjdWmD0Tw2XfI87NiILxll_eVhAljWdTCOMdVqV2/s1600/968full-the-darjeeling-limited-screenshot.jpg" height="272" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> _______________________________</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>References</b></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Aisenberg, Joseph. “Wes’s World: Riding Wes Anderson's Vision Limited.”
<i>Bright Lights Film</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Journal</i>.
59 (2008): n. pag. Web. 14 Sept. 2014.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><<a href="http://www.brightlightsfilm.com/59/59wesanderson.php#.VBjAxRZKbdl">http://www.brightlightsfilm.com/59/59wesanderson.php#.VBjAxRZKbdl</a>> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Baschiera, Stefano. “Nostalgically Man Dwells on This Earth: Objects
and Domestic Space in </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The Royal Tenenbaums</i> and <i>The
Darjeeling Limited</i>.” <i>New Review of
Film and Television Studies</i>. 10.1 (2012): 118–31.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dorey, Thomas. “Wes Anderson: Contemporary
Auteurism and Digital Technology.” Masters</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">thesis,
Carleton University, 2009. Web.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><<a href="https://curve.carleton.ca/system/files/theses/30695.pdf">https://curve.carleton.ca/system/files/theses/30695.pdf</a>.> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Foundas, Scott. “Wes Anderson.” <i>Cinema
Scope</i>. Spring 2012: 30. <i>Film &
Television Literature</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Index</i>.
Web. <span class="citation">14 Sept. 2014.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="citation">May, Emily J. “<i>The
Darjeeling Limited</i> and the New American Traveller.” <i>Senses of Cinema</i>: </span><i>An</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Online Film Journal Devoted To The Serious And Eclectic
Discussion Of Cinema</i>.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">49(2008): n. pag. <i>MLA International Bibliography</i>.
Web. 13 Sept. 2014.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Norris, Chris. “Baggage: Onward and Upward with Wes Anderson’s Darjeeling
Limited.” <i>Film</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Comment</i> 43.5 (2007): 30-34. <i>MLA
International Bibliography</i>. Web. 14 Sept. 2014.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Orgeron, Devin. “La
Camera-Crayola: Authorship Comes of Age in the Cinema of Wes</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Anderson.” <i>Cinema Journal</i>. 46.2 (2007): 40–65. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Philipsen, Lotte. “Synecdoche
in Wes Anderson and J.D. Salinger.” <i>Ways
To Make You See</i>.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Web. 12 Sept. 2014.
</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><<a href="http://waystomakeyousee.wordpress.com/2013/06/30/synecdoche-in-wes-anderson-and-j-d-salinger/">http://waystomakeyousee.wordpress.com/2013/06/30/synecdoche-in-wes-anderson-and-j-d-salinger/</a>></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Stephenson, Barry. “Filled with
Ritual: Wes Anderson’s <i>The Darjeeling
Limited</i>.” <i>Bright Lights</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Film Journal</i>. 74 (2011): n. pag. Web. 15 Sept. 2014. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><<a href="http://brightlightsfilm.com/74/74darjeeling_stephenson.php-.U_fvX0vVtGg">http://brightlightsfilm.com/74/74darjeeling_stephenson.php-.U_fvX0vVtGg</a>> </span></span></div>
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<i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBBciaZ4Rux9tPBFI9F5OBM1NQY2Ofy_EvJDRwSlpfi5_lbCExXYOdNGgYKkQuzqpE3WdxcnCwBBDVGl0x_cz56QiHMuh7dofNxADthoh-HGAbbRiimLun0hvwz3XC7iOadZ-GXSliJAHu/s1600/large_darjeeling_limited_blu-ray_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBBciaZ4Rux9tPBFI9F5OBM1NQY2Ofy_EvJDRwSlpfi5_lbCExXYOdNGgYKkQuzqpE3WdxcnCwBBDVGl0x_cz56QiHMuh7dofNxADthoh-HGAbbRiimLun0hvwz3XC7iOadZ-GXSliJAHu/s1600/large_darjeeling_limited_blu-ray_1.jpg" height="266" width="640" /></a></i></div>
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<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2F3.bp.blogspot.com%2F-UHDeqF80OGc%2FVB8tq1MWSrI%2FAAAAAAAABhU%2F9zzjUORyd2w%2Fs1600%2F0493650_46418_MC_Tx360.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkNnmsk6uItbEe0n79mn3IBNERkVCUy3CL9jR6aAz56_fdn5YW8Ayu3gGEfwaFSgZrKsBTfYMbhnSpP34gllJl2QaUegM3DAOiBkgxICGo8o-ov7TC-kCEnJTHEaMcTZfEJI8leL2G-RPC/s1600/0493650_46418_MC_Tx360.jpg" -->Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-29287779150514191282014-08-29T00:22:00.000-04:002014-08-29T00:34:10.590-04:00Through the Looking Glass: Buster Keaton’s "Sherlock Jr."<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_AfmNlhnSbPE9StBAYlV9G8CZhnzR-QLiF4_9LK2xjthPZkosNo6Z_tlo6aBRC0OQj0BpdCajeTNW2NgfXF0jXriDjocMLWgJtwYm62Zb5_Gr1E-a6Arf5cqF_qLiTqPersW355cx0Rks/s1600/sherlock-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_AfmNlhnSbPE9StBAYlV9G8CZhnzR-QLiF4_9LK2xjthPZkosNo6Z_tlo6aBRC0OQj0BpdCajeTNW2NgfXF0jXriDjocMLWgJtwYm62Zb5_Gr1E-a6Arf5cqF_qLiTqPersW355cx0Rks/s1600/sherlock-1.jpg" height="428" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Over sixty years before <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Woody%20Allen">Woody Allen</a>
had his characters pop off the screen and into the film’s reality in <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bp6YDZVVbj0">The Purple Rose of Cairo</a></i>
(1985), Buster Keaton had done the reverse. In <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sherlock-Jr-Three-Ages-Blu-ray/dp/B0041CGOZI/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1409274858&sr=8-1&keywords=sherlock+jr">Sherlock
Jr.</a></i> (1924), the most silent of all silent clowns played a movie
projectionist studying to become a detective. Falling asleep in his booth, he
dreams himself into the picture, simply walking down the aisle and into the
movie-within-a-movie, where he finds he is at the mercy of film space and film
time. While he stands still, maintaining his space-time continuity, the
“unreal,” cinematic environment surrounding Buster undergoes the editing
process. His universe instantaneously shifts from a park to a desert, to an
ocean, to a snowdrift, and the character, although maintaining complete control
over himself and his actions, is powerless against the filmic montage that
changes his physical surroundings.
</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The scene epitomizes and exaggerates the conditions in which Keaton the
filmmaker has placed Buster the character throughout his career. In film after
film, he battled immense natural forces and huge mechanical objects which were
beyond his control; in film after film, he simply reacted to the environment
and the situation as pragmatically as possible, generally in ways that would
solve his problems. Again and again, with elegance, poise, and superb command
of his body—at once the most malleable and most tensile of physical
objects—Buster made <a href="http://realchoice.0catch.com/HTMLPractice/BallsyBuster.htm">impossible physical stunts</a> look not only possible, but
effortless. He used no stunt doubles, no tricks, no sleights of camera or
editing. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Keaton’s creative ideas as director, his inventiveness and
determination, parallel his ideas as a clown. When cinematic wizardry is used,
as it is in the montage sequence of <i>Sherlock
Jr.</i>, it makes Buster’s life harder, not easier. But the sequence is more
than just stunting. It is perhaps Keaton’s clearest realization of the cinema’s
mechanical basis, his greatest expression of control over the first and
ultimate machine of his career—the camera, that unique mechanical object
capable of representing and reshaping reality at the same time. Because, as
much as <i>Sherlock Jr.</i> pretends to be about
something else, it is a film about film. By taking us inside the picture
alongside Buster—and constantly telling us we are, indeed, watching illusion
unfold—<i>Sherlock Jr.</i> drops its light
comedic premise (about a young man’s wish to become a detective and his
romantic troubles) and becomes an almost abstract, unwaveringly funny, look at
cinema itself.</span></span></div>
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<a name='more'></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH2AWcNW86CN-lkPSeZWfL9Nc1gXlB8rpRwnEDFKfJnCZHhU7yIcu9_-PLFjmnsFfZ_gvGx1SycnX9Re8ZQjiHf0gG-UODq11M_G55Xma-jjW4iQruC1fbC3jJ8KspGoQ1EbwiLWUQihTz/s1600/sherlock-jr-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH2AWcNW86CN-lkPSeZWfL9Nc1gXlB8rpRwnEDFKfJnCZHhU7yIcu9_-PLFjmnsFfZ_gvGx1SycnX9Re8ZQjiHf0gG-UODq11M_G55Xma-jjW4iQruC1fbC3jJ8KspGoQ1EbwiLWUQihTz/s1600/sherlock-jr-4.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The film opens on the Great Stone Face. The unfailing calm and
inexpression of that face has become a stony cliché, but it bears further
investigation. Like Keaton’s films themselves, which seemed pointedly pointless
but hinted at depths beneath the surface, the Keaton face is marked by tension
between appearance and essence. In the first scene of <i>Sherlock Jr</i>., the face is still, but the eyes move quickly, alertly
over the lines of his detective’s manual. Throughout his career, the demeanor
of Buster’s characters—no reaction to anything around them, no smile, no laugh,
no tear, no puzzlement, no inquiry, no anticipation, nothing—lured us into
assuming that he doesn’t feel or think. The Keaton character, though, is not
unfeeling, and certainly not stupid, often using his intellect more than any
other silent clown—if in doubt, watch a <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/2014/03/harry-langdon-elderly-baby.html">Harry
Langdon</a> film. Beneath the frozen mouth and blank stare, the gears of his
brain are constantly clicking and turning. In the opening sequence of <i>Sherlock Jr.</i>, he remains expressionless,
but the eyes bespeak the ceaseless activity underneath, the kind of activity
that will translate itself into action, not expression. The face is a mask, a
ruse; it knows more than it shows. When Buster gets going, his formidable body,
through its posture and motion, will reveal his thoughts and personality better
than any facial expression ever could.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkAraB91nilPXauMjezJeMUSCLBlRS5sd8XqCKL_GNryxjwOBswRNEzbSC6NJlPXjhUcKoUzwoPvPM40US9sDW4Qprtjtob_bP9RIin-dcnL8ZgAF4aOO8QgizBMDkyDlcC1JnR8LghySJ/s1600/sherlockjrdollar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkAraB91nilPXauMjezJeMUSCLBlRS5sd8XqCKL_GNryxjwOBswRNEzbSC6NJlPXjhUcKoUzwoPvPM40US9sDW4Qprtjtob_bP9RIin-dcnL8ZgAF4aOO8QgizBMDkyDlcC1JnR8LghySJ/s1600/sherlockjrdollar.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Before he can react to the words on the page of his book, however,
Buster is suddenly—and rudely—awoken to reality. A lowly projectionist instead
of a great detective, the character is told to stop reading and clean up the
theater. As he goes about his business, the activity beneath the mask slowly
reveals itself. Sweeping the garbage of the floor, Buster gets a newspaper
stuck to his broom. Without second thought, he steps on it to remove it—a
perfectly ordinary reaction. Now it is stuck to his foot. In order to get it
off, he steps on it with his other foot. That merely moves it from one side to the
other, without relinquishing its gluey grip. Increasingly annoyed—as we can
tell by his gestures and their sharper, staccato quality, not his unchanging
expression—he bends down to grab the newspaper. Of course, now it is stuck to
his hand. As if his next action is only the logical extension to what had come
before, Buster dives to the floor in one swift movement, his body like a coiled
spring, and catches himself just in time for one of the theater’s customers,
walking by, to unknowingly remove the newspaper from Buster’s hand as he steps
on it. Within a few minutes we have started to get a glimpse behind the mask;
even when going about perfectly routine chores, Buster is careful, composed,
pragmatic, extremely flexible at responding to obstacles, completely certain of
the task to be accomplished, and wildly imaginative in accomplishing it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Soon he is presented with a new task. Looking into the window of the
store next door, Buster notices the boxes of chocolates and thinks of buying
his sweetheart a gift. Unfortunately, he can’t even afford the smallest,
cheapest box. As he continues to sweep up discarded papers and wrappers, he
finds a dollar bill—just what he needed. Within seconds, a woman comes by and
says she has lost a dollar. Buster, ever logical, determined to be given proof
that it is indeed her bill, asks the woman to describe it. The combination of
sensible, pragmatic action—the description of a lost item—and the complete
impossibility and uselessness of describing the distinguishing characteristics
of a dollar bill—all dollar bills look the same—is only one way in which Keaton
combined sense and nonsense—the other being bizarre, far-fetched ideas worked
out logically and successfully, therefore made to seem natural and ordinary.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">After returning the dollar to its (proven) rightful owner, Buster finds
two more bills in the garbage. An old lady comes along, swearing she had lost a
dollar. Buster asks for the description, and, satisfied with the answer,
presents her with a bill. Disheartened, he keeps sweeping. A man interrupts
him. Having given up on the idea of keeping any of his spoils, Buster hands the
man the dollar. Surprisingly, the man hands it back. Buster calmly waits and
watches as the universe has presented him with another, unintelligible action.
The man starts digging through the garbage, retrieves a lost wallet, and pulls
out the huge wad of cash inside to count it. Keaton’s eyes widen; as soon as
the man is gone, the character dives into the heap of papers (head down, his
legs sticking out into the air) to look for more—a sensible response to the
completely insensible conditions he’s been presented with.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Without any luck, but still in possession of one of the dollars he’d
found, Buster goes to the store to buy his girl a box of chocolates. Walking
over to his house with the small gift, he devises a way to win her affections.
With one stroke of his pen, the $1 on the back becomes $4. Now all he needs to
do is turn the box over when he gives her the candy, looking away and feigning indifference
when she looks impressed. His gift received, Buster musters up the courage to
ask her to marry him, presenting her with a ring and a magnifying glass so she
can see the diamond—always practical. Before she can accept the proposal,
however, another man walks in with a (much bigger) box of chocolates, and takes
Buster’s girl into another room. Keaton sits impatiently on a couch in the
right side of the frame in the foreground; the girl and the other man talk in
the background on the left. Tired of waiting, the main character stands and
walks towards the other room. Just as he reaches the threshold, the man closes
the curtains. In one continuous movement, Buster turns around and walks back,
as if he was just stretching his legs. He waits some more. Annoyed, he goes and
opens the curtains, then resumes his seat on the couch as if nothing had
changed. He peels a banana and places it on the floor just short of the
entryway into the other room, then calls the other man over; he stops an inch
away from falling into the trap. Buster gets up and walks over, determined to
end the other character’ conversation, only to slip and fall on his own banana
peel.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The girl’s father appears, distressed that his watch has been stolen.
This is Buster’s chance to prove his worth as a detective. He checks his book
and discovers the first step is to search everyone. The other man, the thief,
slips the pawnshop receipt for the watch into Buster’s own pocket; it is for
exactly $4, the perceived price of Buster’s chocolates. Branded the criminal,
Buster is kicked out of the house and told never to return. Suspecting the
other man, Buster doesn’t give up his pursuit of the true thief. The next step
in his book is to shadow the suspect closely. Buster waits for the man to come
out of the house, then follows him, exactly mirroring his every movement and
action. In a parody of the detective genre—which will be intensified in
Buster’s dream—the character must overcome all of the obstacles and dangers of
the chase; these mostly consist of walking headlong into walls because he’s not
paying attention to where he’s going, almost getting run over by a car, getting
hit with steam from a locomotive, and getting locked in a train car. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIVBm0F_A2Zpso8g7YzzXLTqwbYGSpH0mURC3ZyvA_0_g-5Y66-IlllrAqWepdOcHfw9PaSd_eltiWJrn3Gd4h29Fe2tZrEvHqZ5eMvFul9lGFLoRjZEs1PVo3jGPSxIvncMjOnyKQPoU_/s1600/water-tank.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIVBm0F_A2Zpso8g7YzzXLTqwbYGSpH0mURC3ZyvA_0_g-5Y66-IlllrAqWepdOcHfw9PaSd_eltiWJrn3Gd4h29Fe2tZrEvHqZ5eMvFul9lGFLoRjZEs1PVo3jGPSxIvncMjOnyKQPoU_/s1600/water-tank.jpg" height="266" width="320" /></a>The stunts in Keaton’s films are so taken for granted (and <a href="http://www.cracked.com/article_20363_6-classic-movies-made-possible-by-reckless-endangerment_p2.html">so dangerous</a>), that in the next scene of the movie, the actor broke his collarbone
and didn’t even notice. Trying to escape the train, Buster runs gracefully
along the tops of a string of boxcars, leaping towards the end of the train.
The last car comes, speeding by beneath him. Lost in midair, Buster dives for
the only object available, the spout of a railroad water tower projecting over
the tracks. His weight lowers the spout just enough to release the water
supply, a cascade that hits him with the force of a waterfall, hurtling him to
the tracks below. Keaton’s neck hit the tracks, but the scene plunged on, and
the filmmaker, as unstoppable as one of his characters, plunged with it,
running off across a field in the background as if nothing had happened.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Meanwhile, the girl, in about two minutes of quick thinking, goes to
the pawnshop and finds out who actually sold the watch. This simple reversal of
role cancels the film’s entire narrative base. The whole time Buster is
dreaming of solutions, there’s nothing to solve. In <i>Sherlock Jr.</i>, as in most of Keaton’s features, the first two reels
set up a character trait in Buster that makes it seem even more impossible for
him to accomplish his task, the Keaton imperative. In this case, it is his
bungling incompetence as a detective, a general inadequacy that can only be
erased by entering the fantasy world of film. It’s doubtful whether the
imperative—the action that he <i>must</i>
complete, something he would never do, but somehow has to—is even worth it.
Like most of Keaton’s leading ladies, the girl in <i>Sherlock Jr.</i> that he must win back is not much worth winning.
Merely providers of literary motivation, the women in the filmmaker’s works
have little value except that Buster wants them. He has already shown us that
the girl in this movie is shallow: he needs to pretend he is richer than he is,
changing the price on the box of chocolates; she looks disconcerted when she
sees the modest engagement ring; she instantly leaves Buster when another man
appears with a more expensive gift; and she doesn’t stand up for him when her
father accuses him of stealing the watch.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In contrast, the illusive world of cinema and its characters seem
perfect; indeed, it encourages us to think that if we could somehow enter it,
we would be perfect as well. The romantic melodrama Buster is screening at the
theater, “Hearts and Pearls,” is infinitely more inviting than the real world,
where he has been blamed for a crime he didn’t commit, he has lost his girl,
and he is too incompetent to set it right. As Buster falls asleep in the
projection booth, the characters onscreen turn their backs to the camera.
Seamlessly, through a dissolve, when they face us again they have become the
people in Buster’s life. Now it is Buster’s turn to enter the world of his
dream. While the real character sleeps in a chair, the director uses double
exposure to create a transparent second self who rises. He even puts on a
second, ghostly dream hat he picks up from a hook, while the real hat remains
hanging on the wall in the booth. The pervasive sense of surrealism that dotted
Keaton’s work and placed him, given the time-period, in the near-avant-garde
comes to full realization in <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zdNplzdx5OM">this sequence</a>. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Buster’s dream self emerges from the projection booth, walks down the
aisle, and climbs up onto the movie screen, entering the looking glass of
cinema. But admittance doesn’t come that easily. The character is promptly
kicked out. The girl in the film, now Buster’s girl, is being mistreated by the
other man. Buster goes at it strategically, climbing the side steps to the
screen as if he means to sneak into it laterally, unnoticed, instead of leaping
into the image headlong. The second time, he succeeds, but the film betrays
him, cutting from the room where his girl is being molested to a shot outside
the house. From here on, the character finds himself at the mercy of film space
and film time. He goes to ring the doorbell to the house. Waiting for an
answer, he leans against the door frame, but—cut again—there is no frame to
support him, the steps beneath him collapse into thin air, and he tumbles over
a bench in a park. He decides to sit on the bench, only to find himself sitting
in the middle of a city street’s busy traffic. Taking a step towards the
sidewalk to avoid a car, he almost falls off a mountain precipice. Slipping and
scrambling to a safer position, he then peers over the cliff, only to discover
he’s now in a forest, staring directly into a lion’s hungry jaws. Retreating
from the animal, he walks into the path of an express train in the desert.
Sitting on a sand mound, he is instantly sitting on a reef in mid-ocean. He
dives, but there is no water anymore, only a snow bank, where he gets stuck
head first. Extricating himself and reaching towards a tree trunk for support, he
is back in the garden, falling over that same bench again. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">This is one of the most brilliantly conceived and executed special
effects sequences in film history. Too intricate to be funny, it provokes
astonishment and admiration, not always laughter. The montage stands very much
at the heart of Keaton’s style, imagination, and comic genius. The mechanical
perfection of the stunt is extraordinary, but behind the gag and the mechanical
ability to work it is the sheer marvel of having conceived it. This is
farfetched lunacy at its best, dependent on tricks, divorced from human reality
and feelings. Again we have a
combination of sense and nonsense, as a human being tries to make sense out of
impossibly changing surroundings. The activities of the universe—in this case
cinematic, in other Keaton films real—make no sense, but Buster goes about his
business, trying to deal with it in the most rational, practical way he can,
creating a conflict between a sensible Keaton and a senseless world. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The foray into the screen’s reality is at first disastrous. Real men
are not at all equipped to inhabit the dynamics of film; its properties and
man’s properties are altogether contrary. Continuous time and space becomes
discontinuous, broken, fragmented into pieces that are reassembled seemingly at
random. Life (generally) moves logically, in linear fashion from cause to
effect, from 1 to 2, A to B. Film, arbitrary on all counts, moves from 1 to B,
to 8, back to A. Cinema is eternal dissolve, eternal transformation, at the
mercy of an unknown, unseen hand wielding a scissors or adjusting the lens. Try
as he might, Buster’s pragmatism and ingenuity cannot save him here. Only when
Buster has truly, fully entered this universe can he control it. He is no
longer Buster, the film projectionist, then, but Sherlock Jr., “the world’s
greatest detective,” “the crime-crushing criminologist.” The character has been
transposed to the unreal reality of the movie, abandoned his incompetence, and
become what he always wanted to be—but couldn’t—in real life. If there is
something to be said for cinema and wish-fulfillment, here it is, elegant,
white-gloved, gently ringing the doorbell with the fastidious delicacy worthy
of caressing rose petals. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">If <i>Sherlock Jr.</i> is an
investigation of film as a whole, it also (comically) explores the detective
genre in particular, taking its conventions and exaggerating them to the point
of parody. A pearl necklace has been stolen, much the same way the watch was
stolen in the film’s reality—if that’s not too much of an oxymoron. Sherlock
arrives to the scene of the crime, and promptly tells the victim there’s no
need to explain the situation at all; “this is a simple case for me.” As
circumstance would have it, the butler did it—or at least is in on it—and the
criminals plot the detective’s demise. The unbelievable death plots the crooks
hatch for poor Sherlock go beyond our abilities to suspend disbelief. One by
one, Sherlock escapes their murderous intentions, including a guillotine-like
axe rigged to fall over a chair whenever anyone sits on it, poisoned wine, and
explosive pool balls. The detective only sits on the edge of the seat, leaning
forward, so as to not trigger the axe; he exchanges drinks with one of the
thieves; and, hilariously, plays an impossible game of pool in which he hits
every single ball but the one meant to explode: the other balls hop over it, make
turns around it, move out of the way. As he leaves the house, we discover he
knew about the plans to kill him all along, and had switched the rigged ball
out for an ordinary one.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“By the next day, the master mind had completely solved the mystery,” a
title card informs us—“with the exception of locating the pearls and finding
the thief.” Again, Buster must shadow his man, and, again, he takes a few doors
to the face and is left stranded on the roof of a building, from where he will
jump two stories down and land in the back seat of a moving car carrying the
villains to their hideout. Outside the house the criminals have gathered at,
Sherlock is met by his assistant—Watson Jr.? The man has brought him a hoop
with what looks like some rags inside, which Sherlock places in the window
without explanation. Clearly, the detective’s intention is to get caught, as he
stands outside the window whistling, but why? </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Whereas Chaplin preferred to bring us closer to his character both
emotionally and physically, Keaton’s camera worked much farther away from its
human subjects; even Buster is often nothing more than a human dot on the
horizon, and we don’t ever know what he’s thinking before he does it. The long
shots worked to emphasize the interplay between man and huge mechanical or
natural forces. They gave Keaton the space to move and the vast panoramas to
contrast with his moving body. But the long shot also fulfilled another
essential function; it allowed the filmmaker to show exactly how a particular
mechanism works, to explore relationships of cause and effect and illuminate
all relevant elements of a process. In <i>Sherlock
Jr.</i>, Buster’s <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mjwSlApPVaI">escape
from the thief’s hideout</a> is filmed in one such shot, perhaps the most
brilliant process long shot of his career—and what a process! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">By dissolving the fourth wall of the house, Keaton allows one single
shot to present: a room where Sherlock is surrounded by thugs; the open window
where the character placed the paper hoop; the exterior of the house outside
that window in the left half of the frame. Buster grabs the pearl necklace
inside the house, dashes towards the window, leaps through it and through the
hoop, puts on the dress stuffed inside the hoop in midair, rights himself on
the ground outside the house, and impersonates a little old lady (now wearing
the dress), as the thieves race outside to catch him. All of this happens in a
few seconds. Without the long shot, it would have been impossible to believe
that any comic acrobat could perform such a stunt. Behind the mechanics, again,
is the idea. Who else could possibly think of escaping in such an incredible
way and with such an incredible means to such an incredible disguise? Keaton
takes incredibility to the third power and makes it credible. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The long shot offers not just pictorial grandness, but strategic
effectiveness. Each step of his plan makes perfect sense: get caught, grab the
stolen goods, jump out the window, disguise yourself and run away. But the tiny
steps mount to a heroic plateau; individual moments of sense add up to one
impossible sum. The escape plan is pure <a href="http://www.authorama.com/laughter-8.html">Bergson: human process is
turned into mechanism, revealing human causes for mechanical effects</a>. While
Buster’s human brain clicks away its strategies, the body becomes a machine for
carrying them out. Keaton’s physical comedy reaches a synthesis of malleable
human flesh and Bergsonian machine. The filmmaker has successfully taken the
mechanized, the extraordinary, and
assimilated it into the routine of everyday life, as if jumping out of a window
to put clothes on were a nonchalant, ordinary activity (I like to think that’s
how Keaton dressed himself every morning before going out.)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Once Sherlock is recognized by the crooks, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cp5fTvEWdh4">the chase</a> is on. Running
into the street, the character is picked up by a motorcycle—and by picked up, I
mean almost run over and hoisted into the handlebars. After the first hesitant
look around, Buster makes himself at home. What else is a pragmatic man to do
when riding at full speed on the handlebars of a motorcycle than cross his
legs, look over to the driver and start pleasantly chatting away? The scene
takes Buster—and us—through roaring traffic, converging vehicles and
streetcars, past workmen digging a ditch at the side of the road (who throw
shovel-fuls of dirt in his face), past—or, more appropriately, through—a
tug-of-war at a stag party, through the woods and past a nice picnic gathering,
over dirt roads and a small stream, and plunging headlong across a high, narrow
aqueduct. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In a long shot, we see that ahead of the character there is a sizeable
gap in the aqueduct’s structure, a drop into empty air. As Buster races towards
almost certain death, a truck slowly approaches the gap, and then a second
truck appears from the opposite direction just as the character arrives at the
distressing precipice. The two trucks pass each other exactly at the right
moment to provide him with a continuing roadway. He whips across their tops to
connect directly with the other side of the aqueduct, only to have the entire
structure begin to fall towards us. Buster rides straight down with it, meeting
the ground with grace and no diminution of speed. It should perhaps be
mentioned at this point that almost as soon as Buster sits on the handlebars of
the motorcycle, the driver hits a bump in the road and falls off. Buster
supposes that his friend is doing the driving—and, in fact, repeatedly
congratulating him on his quick maneuvers, speed, courage, and narrow escapes. (The
actor playing the driver was actually unwilling to take the fall from the
driver’s seat, worried that he might get hurt; Keaton promptly took the fall
himself, dressed in the man’s clothes, with another actor on the handlebars,
then resumed his own place on the driverless, unguided, speeding bike.) </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A few moments later, the character’s thoroughly reckless journey brings
him into obvious collision course with a rapidly advancing train. The
motorcycle is in the foreground, the camera moving with it at violent speed. We
can see plainly that it is Buster on that bike, and, just as plainly, in the
background, the onrushing locomotive speeding inexorably towards him and the
camera. Buster and the motorcycle rip across the tracks, clearing the train by
inches. On a curved road further down, he sees a monstrous machine, a solid
rectangle on wheels, approaching him around the bend. He keeps going, sure to
collide. The machine turns the corner and proves not solid at all; it is a
platform on giant legs, with nothing but open space in between. Buster sails
through with aplomb, never missing a beat. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Conveniently, the roaring spectacle of a ride comes to an end as he
tears through the wall of the house his girl is being kept hostage at. Sherlock
grabs the woman and takes her out the window and straight into a car as the
thugs enter through the door, and the chase is on again. After a long,
high-speed drive down empty mountain roads and busy city streets, the detective
ends the chase by throwing the exploding pool ball at his pursuers. Like a
silent <a href="http://www.rollingstone.com/movies/lists/james-bonds-best-and-worst-peter-travers-ranks-all-24-movies-20121109">James
Bond</a>, he prepares to kiss the girl, interrupted only by the lake a few feet
in front of the speeding car. The four wheel brakes leave the entire frame of
the vehicle behind, and Sherlock and his girl float on the lake in what’s left
of the car, using its hood as a sail. Having completed his masterful escape,
saved the girl, and retrieved the stolen pearls, Sherlock goes to step out of
the car and falls into the lake. <a href="http://johnkstuff.blogspot.com/2006/11/only-superhumans-qualify-as.html">The impossible comes easy to Buster</a>; it’s the
ordinary and everyday—like getting out of a car—that baffles and defeats him.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The dream fall awakens Buster form his cinematic reverie. Returned to
the reality of the projection booth from his glorious screen dream, a look of
sadness and regret instantly flashes across his immobile face. The film world,
as difficult as it is to control, is a place where he can be a hero and a great
detective, whereas in real life he is only a projectionist, alone, and suspected
of theft. On cue, his sweetheart shows up to tell him she’s made a mistake in
accusing him. Now Buster must deal with his real girlfriend, but he can still
look to the screen for advice. The movie’s conclusion shows Buster how to
conclude his own story with the girl. Gazing towards the screen, Buster sees
the actor taking the woman’s hands; he takes his girls.’ She doesn’t seem
pleased. There must be more. Again, he looks to the screen. He kisses the
hands—look to the screen—places the engagement ring on her finger—look to the
screen—gives her a peck on the mouth, not exactly the romantic full-bodied kiss
of the theater screen. As he looks towards the movie one more time, the image
dissolves from a kiss to a scene of the happy couple, a multiplicity of babies
on their laps. Confused, Buster scratches his head. Fade Out.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">As Buster mimics the actions on screen, Keaton provides a visual
parallel between the activities in the booth and those in the movie. Not only
are they the same, but the director shoots the scene through the window of the
booth, effectively framing “reality” like a film screen does. Keaton has made a
movie about a movie, an intention especially obvious in this conclusion.
Through <i>Sherlock Jr.</i>, he has
discovered both the ways the cinematic universe defies nature and reality, and
the way nature and reality would copy cinema if they could. The story, gags,
situation, and character all proceed (whether seriously or parodically) from
the same idea: the depiction of life-in-cinema and cinema-in-life. If the real
plot of the film (Buster falsely accused of theft, his illusionary heroism as
he imagines performing exploits on screen, discovery of the thief, reuniting
with his girl, and the romantic kiss at the end) is predictable, the imaginary
“movie” plot makes up for it in energy, breathlessness, and dazzling surprise.
Together, the two story lines evoke the most fundamental differences between
reality and the movies. The former is static, uninteresting, unfair; but films
not only reflect our deepest desires, fears, needs, and dreams, they create
them, spinning fairytales out of facts. As the screen is darkened and
illuminated with vast and colorful possibilities and impossibilities, the
ordinary can become extraordinary.</span></span></div>
Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-47112382100726271712014-08-15T04:02:00.000-04:002014-08-15T04:07:08.094-04:00The Middle of the Road: Alexander Payne’s Journeys<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXaIBoeRydNSSTM0AaCDEtAVBv9J2Vn_qWt1nN99C5cVF19nyLdYqPlc-KjlwiMeKRE2MTeXf7xbdCKnbk-E9n5MLSs80AY619b8BJgGCEHAlBLZNeFDaZ093rrwlFIU7edm-za0glzSMO/s1600/payne-nebraska.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXaIBoeRydNSSTM0AaCDEtAVBv9J2Vn_qWt1nN99C5cVF19nyLdYqPlc-KjlwiMeKRE2MTeXf7xbdCKnbk-E9n5MLSs80AY619b8BJgGCEHAlBLZNeFDaZ093rrwlFIU7edm-za0glzSMO/s1600/payne-nebraska.jpg" height="398" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> “I
had been sitting on this <i><a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/2014/05/nebraska-2013-one-for-money-two-for-road.html">Nebraska</a></i>
script even when I did <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sideways-Sandra-Oh/dp/B000I9YWWU/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1408008462&sr=8-1&keywords=sideways">Sideways</a></i>,”
writer-director <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0668247/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Alexander
Payne</a> said in May 2013. “But I didn’t want to go back to a road-trip movie
right after that. I was really tired of shooting people in cars. It’s a drag”
(qtd. in Alexander). Despite these misgivings, the filmmaker returns, again and
again, to road trips. Recurring throughout Payne’s work is the idea of a
pivotal physical pilgrimage that doubles as a journey of self-discovery for his
typical protagonist, a damaged but basically good person riddled with unease
and inner disenchantment. </span></span>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In
<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9OHT6EErbY">About Schmidt</a></i>
(2002), <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YS9ocP6FNvM">Sideways</a></i> (2004), <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CWHNXJ1K4yA">The Descendants</a></i>
(2011), and most recently <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UT5tqPojMtg">Nebraska</a></i> (2013), Payne
cannot help but place his characters on physical, psychological, and emotional
journeys, ones that might not have a clear destination but which will take the
protagonists—and the viewers—to completely unexpected places. More often than
not, origin and destination merge, and the characters end up where they had
started; they return home, whether that is symbolized by an actual location or
by family connections or romantic relationships. The writer-director utilizes
the dynamics of the road movie not to express the more common theme of a
yearning for escape, but instead to emphasize the psychological primacy of
belonging, establishing and—significantly—accepting one’s true home.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/2014/05/nebraska-2013-one-for-money-two-for-road.html">Click HERE for my analysis
of Payne’s NEBRASKA: “One for the Money, Two for the Road”</a></span></span></div>
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<a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Payne’s
characters are generally middle-aged men who have reached a certain point in
life and have the rug pulled out from under them. They embark on a physical
journey out of necessity rather than choice, or because they have nowhere else
to turn. But this pilgrimage involves not only a change in place, but one in
perspective as well. Travel helps the characters grow psychologically and
emotionally, outward movement leading to an inward reflection through which
they come face to face with some essence inside of them before they can move
on. However, there is no grand moment of revelation, no late-breaking epiphany,
no neat resolution, no overwhelming sense of transformation in the characters,
just a glimpse of self-discovery and a sprinkle of hope.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In
dealing with his protagonists, the director searches above all for simplicity
of expression and feeling, seeking to imbue his works with a sense of
authenticity and provide an accurate representation of life. He returns to the
specifics of his own Midwestern experience in order to find something
universal, transcendent, and noble in the mundane and the everyday. In short,
he is a humanist. “If it seems a touch hyperbolic to call Alexander Payne the
last humanist filmmaker working in today’s Hollywood,” <a href="http://variety.com/author/scott-foundas/">Scott Foundas</a> writes in <i><a href="http://www.filmcomment.com/">Film
Comment</a></i>, “surely he is one of an endangered species: a humble
practitioner of smart, grown-up movies about ordinary men and women, their
sizeable failings and modest victories. An exotic specimen, he roams the
depopulated landscape where the likes of <a href="http://www.lubitsch.com/">Ernst
Lubitsch</a>, <a href="http://www.tcm.com/tcmdb/person/126189|97294/Leo-McCarey/">Leo McCarey</a>,
and <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Billy%20Wilder">Billy
Wilder</a> once stood” (24). In a cinematic environment populated by sequels,
prequels, reboots, remakes, and tentpole films of other varieties, Payne
reaches beyond the artifice to create something that is solid and unassuming,
special without the use of special effects. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The
director is what <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/search/label/Martin%20Scorsese">Martin
Scorsese</a> calls a smuggler. Working within established genres, making
commercial movies, he stealthily manages to slip in a secret cargo of personal
preoccupations (Talbot). “He is that rare accolade-worthy filmmaker who speaks
to both the art-house crowd and the popcorn-munching masses” (Wloszczyna). His
films have been financed by major studios; most of them have made money; they
have starred big-name, A-list actors; they have been nominated for, and won,
Oscars. But at the same time they are small, personal projects, bearing the
fingerprints of an auteur with a deeply humanist bent. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Making
small, modest, and humorous films, Payne insists, should not be a rarity or an
achievement; it should be the norm. “It shouldn’t be an epic aspiration to make
simple human stories, but it is,” he says. “It’s my hope that we’re getting
into an era where the value of a film is based on its proximity to real life
rather than its distance from it” (qtd. in Hochman). The filmmaker is
undeniably learned and witty, but his films don’t particularly rely on
sophisticated banter. Instead, his point of reference is always what would
happen in real life, not what would happen in a movie. Like <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/2013/05/jim-jarmusch-coffe-cabs-and-cigarettes.html">Jim
Jarmusch</a> or painter <a href="http://www.edwardhopper.net/">Edward Hopper</a>,
Payne finds beauty and poetry in the most unlikely of places, investing the
ordinary and the everyday with mystery and charm. “I can’t stand that something must be made
more beautiful to be worthy of being photographed on 35mm film going at 24
frames per second,” he admits. “It’s ridiculous. I remember in <i>Schmidt</i>, we had a crowd scene, and the
costume people, before the camera rolled, removed lint from some of the extras
and straightened their hair, and I said, ‘What are you doing?’ More and more,
movies are simplified or denuded or prettified in some way that makes them much
less than what they could be” (qtd. in Hochman). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Payne’s
characters, like their dialogue, environment, and lives, are never simplified,
denuded, or prettified. He is interested in capturing not the audience’s
sympathy, but its interest. “There’s a bizarre insistence [in Hollywood] on how
a story should be,” the director complained. “‘The protagonist must be
sympathetic!’ they say. Whatever that means. I never engage in that discussion.
I never use that word, ‘sympathetic.’ I just know ‘interesting’” (qtd. in
Hodgman). If anything, the filmmaker tries to make his protagonists and their
lives as complex and real as possible, regardless of how “pretty” or
“sympathetic” their stories are. </span></span></div>
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as an example of the filmmaker’s mind at work, in <a href="http://www.louisbegley.com/">Louis Begley</a>’s 1996 novel on which <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/About-Schmidt-Jack-Nicholson/dp/B00AP8XC02/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1408013229&sr=8-1&keywords=about+schmidt">About
Schmidt</a></i>, Payne’s deliberately slow-paced but insightfully moving
portrait of a life’s third act, is (loosely) based, main character Albert
Schmidt is a man of privilege and position, a recently retired attorney from a
top New York law firm, drifting towards old age with grumpy stoicism in a
luxurious house in the Hamptons. His daughter is engaged to an ambitions junior
partner at the firm. Payne called his Schmidt Warren, moved him from Manhattan
to Omaha, Nebraska, made him an executive at a medium-sized insurance company,
and provided an unambitious Colorado water-bed salesman for the fiancé. It is
both curious and obvious that a simple change of geography and profession would
have such a transformative effect. “Payne has not simply subjected [the
character] to a change of climate, topography and regional mores; he has
plucked the unsuspecting Schmidt out of one literary tradition and inserted him
into another…. [Schmidt] is the latest in a long line of sad, comical and
heroic embodiments of the ordinary man that have, in loneliness, defeat and
occasional glory, populated American novels, plays, movies and television shows
for much of the past century” (Scott). Payne’s version of Schmidt is cut from
the same cloth as <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clifford_Odets">Clifford
Odets</a>’ and <a href="http://www.neh.gov/about/awards/jefferson-lecture/arthur-miller-biography">Arthur
Miller</a>’s histrionic heroes and <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6878.John_Updike">John Updike</a>’s
lusty, lucky <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rabbit,_Run">Rabbit Angstrom</a>,
all average guys whom our culture both mocks and celebrates. “He is both
scapegoat and tragic hero,” the <i><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/">New York Times</a> </i>film critic continues,
“martyr and buffoon –an archetype whose manifestations include <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Willy_Loman">Willy Loman</a> and <a href="http://simpsons.wikia.com/wiki/Homer_Simpson">Homer Simpson</a>. He
struggles and strives, but he can never win” (Scott). Warren Schmidt is not—to
say the least—a sympathetic character, but he definitely is interesting.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">While
the setting of the story, the profession of the character, and many other details of the novel have been
changed, its themes of parental disappointment, spousal bereavement and
late-mid-life restlessness resonate with force and subtlety in the movie.
Schmidt has built his life on false ideals, and, as the props of his career and
marriage are tugged away, he is filled with rage and impotence. When we first
see the character, in an empty, sterile office, his blue-gray suit merging into
the background, he’s watching the small clock high on the wall click away the
seconds until the end of his workday. We soon discover this is his last day at
the insurance firm, but as he silently picks up his briefcase and coat and
slowly walks out of the office, we understand that this is what he has been
doing all of his life—watching the clock tick away the seconds until he is
free. The name of the firm, “Woodmen,” blazoned on a gray obelisk of a building
in a gray sky, makes a not-too-subtle pun on Schmidt’s life. He, himself, is
wooden, a man of habits so regular he wakes up two seconds before the alarm. <a href="http://www.screeningthepast.com/2013/10/becoming-jack-nicholson-the-masculine-persona-from-easy-rider-to-the-shining/">Jack
Nicholson</a>, that <a href="http://www.metacafe.com/watch/mv-Yt5nF/top_jack_nicholson_moments/">icon
of rebelliousness</a>, is defeated, tamed, trapped, so henpecked that his wife
tells him how to pee.</span></span></div>
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and gravity have done startling things to Nicholson’s features. Paunchy, with a
turkey-wattle neck, varicose veins in his ankles and a bad comb-over, Schmidt
is facing mortality in an empty home. The sardonic wit of the devilish Jack is
replaced by the stunned confusion of a man realizing that his life has added up
to zilch. Schmidt’s retirement party is a depressing affair. As friends and
colleagues congratulate him on his many accomplishments (on having devoted his
life to “something meaningful, to being productive, to working for a top company…,
to raising a fine family, to building a fine home, to being respected by your
community, to having wonderful lasting friendships”), Payne slowly zooms in on
his character’s face, and on display are only doubt and regret; in the
background, a miniature set makes it clear how small his life has been, reduced
to nothing more than window-dressing. In his darkly lit house, the character is
framed by confining, narrow halls, an indication that his home is no less of a
prison than his office. As a suggestive motif, Payne has Schmidt repeatedly
running into cows: photographs of prize steers adorn the walls of the
steakhouse where his retirement dinner is held. When he retires, he is put out
to pasture, as it were. Later, on the highway in his R.V.—ironically called
“The Adventurer”—he passes a truckful of the beasts, bound, no doubt, for
slaughter. And at his daughter’s wedding, he takes the floor in a room
dominated by an enormous joint of roast beef. And this, the film implies, is
the mirror of his own life cycle, in which he is used up, consumed and
discarded.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Nicholson
does take to the road again, but we are a long way away from <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ySgOds3bzcc">Easy Rider</a></i> (1969), <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=38maVb_30ng">Five Easy Pieces</a></i>
(1970), or <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wt1kK8gsag4">The Last Detail</a></i>
(1973). “His is a horribly real, tragically humdrum journey,” <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/profile/xanbrooks">Xan Brooks</a> of <i><a href="http://www.bfi.org.uk/news-opinion/sight-sound-magazine">Sight and Sound</a></i>
writes about Schmidt. The character driving a Winnebago, he’s alone and nothing
comes easy. “<i>About Schmidt</i>…<i> </i>is not about a man who goes on a
journey to find himself, because there is no one to find. When Schmidt gets
into his 35-foot Winnebago Adventurer, which he and his wife Helen thought to
use in his retirement, it is not an act of curiosity but of desperation: He has
no place else to turn” (<a href="http://www.rogerebert.com/">Ebert</a>, “About
Schmidt”). There is little to lighten the grotesque sadness of the character.
He is a weary salary-man who, as an actuary, knows all too well that he’s
nearing the end of his useful days—there is exactly a 73 percent chance that he
will die within nine years. Schmidt has nothing to show for lots of years and
few accessible feelings about them, apart from fugitive grief and a smoldering
rage toward his wife. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The
elegiac strain that runs through Payne’s movies, his exploration of the
recurrent theme of regret, is perhaps most heartbreakingly evident in <i>About Schmidt</i>. Miles, in <i>Sideways</i>,
like Warren, is newly conscious of leading a life that has barely reverberated;
Matt, in <i>The Descendants</i>, discovers
that he is a stranger to his own family. By the end of <i>Sideways</i>, however, Miles appears ready to get unstuck and fall in
love again, and Matt, in <i>The Descendants</i>,
connects with his daughters. Schmidt’s future seems much bleaker. “When I was a
kid, I used to think that maybe I was special,” he confesses, “that somehow
destiny had tapped me to be a great man. Not like <a href="http://www.thehenryford.org/exhibits/hf/">Henry Ford</a> or <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/2014/01/saving-mr-banks-2013.html">Walt
Disney</a>…, but somebody semi-important… one of those guys you read about, but
somehow it just didn’t work out that way.” Immediately, he starts making
excuses and blaming others.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The
main character in <i>Sideways</i>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0316079/">Paul Giamatti</a>’s failed novelist
“who is deeply in love with wine and deeply in hatred with the rest of the
world,” is almost as defeated as Warren (Stein and Philadelphia). Every
time—and there are many—he says the publication of his book is “not exactly
finalized, but there has been some interest,” he is lying not only to whomever
his interlocutor happens to be, but, like Warren, he is lying most of all to
himself. As <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/2014/07/life-itself-2014.html">Roger
Ebert</a> put it, “Miles is not perfect, but… we forgive him his trespasses,
because he trespasses most of all against himself.” The first word he utters in
the film is a dismal “fuck,” over a black screen as he is woken up in the
morning—read mid-afternoon—and his demeanor hardly improves throughout the day
or the movie. “</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A
bumpy detour into the pinot noir-sodden abyss of Santa Barbara wine country,” <i>Sideways</i> is based on the novel of the
same name, by a failed filmmaker-turned-failed novelist named <a href="http://rexpickett.com/">Rex Pickett</a>, who, divorced and nearly
destitute, poured his own tale of woe into a book initially titled “Two Guys on
Wine” (Wloszczyna). The film follows two male fortysomething friends,
high-school English teacher and would-be writer Miles and washed-up soap star
Jack, as they face up to the surprises and disappointments of a week-long,
traveling bachelor party through California’s Santa Ynez Valley in the run-up
to Jack’s wedding the following weekend. The film mixes the well-worn cinematic
conventions of the road movie and the buddy film, yet “despite the contrived
set-up, Miles and Jack aren’t stock comic characters but rather amiable
individuals beset by human flaws and foibles and unfulfilled desires, grown-ups
adrift in a world they don’t fully understand” (Salisbury). Like Warren Schmidt
before him and Matt King after, Miles fits perfectly into Payne’s canon of
ordinary, sad men who have reached a milestone in their lives and don’t know
how to move forward.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Miles
is a perpetual worrier, his friend Jack an easy charmer still trading on his
looks and residual fame. While Miles is a true wine connoisseur, his friend,
though willing to learn, will taste wine while chewing gum. What keeps this
friendship of former college roommates going seems a mystery, though as the
film progresses we better understand the psychological underpinnings of the
relationship. They’re like two sides of a whole: Jack the sensualist and
extrovert, too busy being relaxed to look inside; Miles the introvert and
neurotic, too caught up in his own intellect to enjoy himself—together, they
make a complete human being. Desperately clinging to the last tatters of their
youth, the two wind up stumbling, respectively, into the arms of a divorced
waitress and a sexy single mom (played superbly by Payne’s then-wife Sandra
Oh). “<i>Sideways</i> is a raucous,
booze-and-sex-fueled buddy road movie, but with grown-ups instead of spring
breakers, and wine and Xanax instead of Bud and bong hits—sort of a <i>Dude, Where’s My Pinot Noir</i>?”
(Rottenberg). That this small-scale study of midlife drift, a film without a
single major star, featuring impassioned soliloquies about wine and wincingly
awkward romantic encounters was successful is a testament to Payne’s skill
turning life’s unspectacular moments into spectacular movies.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The
director’s next film, <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Descendants-George-Clooney/dp/B007JRU2UK/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1408086497&sr=8-1&keywords=the+descendants">The
Descendants</a>, </i>follows another character whose existence of routine has
been tipped abruptly from its axis. George Clooney’s Matt has also reached a
turning point in his life, and, despite the idyllic surroundings, he’s not any
happier or his life any less ordinary. Hawaii has been used in films as a
picture-perfect tourist mecca, but the director doesn’t linger on any tropical
sunsets; he pushes past the surface beauty because he wants us to see the 50th
state as a place where people actually live and raise families and die, real
people with real problems, just like those of us stranded this side of
paradise. Cool trade winds and gorgeous beaches do not exempt one from the
normal disappointments and tragedies of life. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoK65SxOVHjP0RyLW5MKP26EpMSdsCZGB4m1zXr5d3w2lVvTUNCBA9jrgNscAHPzDfp9q50H-_-EG7sMIrF-pT7Q53p_Q0S0YYKKzM-5kUuDNU_oca8Rau3Xb1j8sUFzN2G4L1IwGHC3wy/s1600/Picture9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoK65SxOVHjP0RyLW5MKP26EpMSdsCZGB4m1zXr5d3w2lVvTUNCBA9jrgNscAHPzDfp9q50H-_-EG7sMIrF-pT7Q53p_Q0S0YYKKzM-5kUuDNU_oca8Rau3Xb1j8sUFzN2G4L1IwGHC3wy/s1600/Picture9.jpg" height="133" width="320" /></a><i>The Descendants</i> signals from
the outset that it’s aiming beyond the clichés with Matt’s disenchanted
voiceover. “My friends on the mainland think just because I live in Hawaii that
I’m in paradise—like a permanent vacation, we’re all just out here sipping Mai
Tais, shaking our hips and catching waves.” It’s exactly this misconception
that Payne sets out to dispel. “Are they insane?” Matt continues. “Do they think
we’re immune to life? How can they possibly think our families are less screwed
up, our cancers less fatal, our heartaches less painful?” These words overlay
images not of sunny beaches, acres of unspoiled land, or cocktail-sipping
tourists, but shots of ordinary individuals going about their daily toil in
Hawaii, just as they would anywhere else. “Hell, I haven’t been on a surfboard
in fifteen years,” Clooney’s character explains. “For the past twenty-two days
I’ve been living in a paradise of IVs and urine bags and tracheal tubes.
Paradise? Paradise can go fuck itself.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Matt’s
wife Elizabeth lies unconscious in the hospital on life support, the victim of
a waterskiing accident from which, he is informed, she will never recover. A self-confessed hands-off father (“I’m the
back-up parent, the understudy”), the character finds himself suddenly called
on to engage with two daughters he scarcely knows. And while he’s ineptly
trying to fathom their differing emotional reactions to the situation, his
elder daughter informs him his wife was having an affair and planned to divorce
him. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Matt’s
response triggers a classic instance of Payne’s knack for splicing pathos with
comedy–or vice versa. Pausing only to grab the nearest pair of shoes, Matt
dashes off to visit nearby friends who, he believes, will know the name of his
wife’s lover. But the footwear he picks up happens to be plastic deck shoes,
totally unsuited for speed, and his genuine distress is undercut by the
absurdity of his lumbering, ducklegged run. This is not <i>The Descendant</i>’s only instance in which Payne undercuts the tragedy
with comedy.<i> </i>A distraught Clooney making
the dorky-looking sprint across his subdivision to her friends’ house in asphalt-slapping
slip-ons, is undeniably both a tragic and comic sight, but there are deeper,
more subtle moments in which this combination of heartbreak and hilarity is at
play. In a later example, Matt’s guilt-ridden anger is heartfelt but at the
same time farcical, vented as it is on a woman in a coma. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>The Descendants </i>navigates a
gauntlet of tricky tonal shifts, turning on a dime from high farce to high
melodrama. <a href="http://www.newyorker.com/contributors/margaret-talbot">Margaret
Talbot</a> writes in <i><a href="http://www.newyorker.com/">The New Yorker</a></i>, “His movies shuttle
nimbly between humor and sadness, with Chaplinesque pathos often inscribed into
physical comedy.” The director’s films hover between sympathizing with his
characters and making fun of them. His detractors find him condescending,
because he so willingly subjects characters who are not rich or sophisticated or
sleek to indignities that prompt viewers to laugh or wince. “But these
humiliations are the stuff of everyday life: lost dentures, unsightly bee
stings…. He tries to capture human absurdity with affection, not malice”
(Talbot). <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0852591/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Jim Taylor</a>,
Payne’s longtime writing partner says, “We’re interested in people who are both
ridiculous and noble in their dedication to what they’re after. We sometimes
get ‘Oh, you’re making fun of people.’ Well, we try to remember how ridiculous
we <i>ourselves</i> are. And it’s not hard” (qtd. in Talbot). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">An
avid admirer of silent film—who had, by the age of twelve, bought all of
Chaplin’s Mutual shorts with his own money—Payne knows that sometimes the best
scenes and most memorable moments in a film, the ones that seamlessly mix laughter
and poignancy, can be wordless—Nicholson’s solitary battle with a waterbed in <i>About Schmidt</i> (which would have made <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ee6TeqQjOwo">W.C. Fields</a> smile) or
the coda of <i>The Descendants</i>, with
Clooney’s character and his two daughters passing ice cream back and forth on the
couch. The filmmaker sees the ability to capture or suggest dreams, rather than
just capture reality, as one of cinema’s greatest values. Silent films excelled
from the start in fully embracing the weirdness of real life and dreams and how
the two can be combined into a story, creating what the director calls “a
fuller, weirder totality of human experience.” It is exactly this kind of
reality that Payne is after in his own work; he makes the kind of movies that
explore the full scope of human emotion and experience, at once satirically and
sympathetically. <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/489673.Kaui_Hart_Hemmings">Kaui Hart
Hemmings</a>, the author of <i>The
Descendants</i>’ source material, the novel of the same name, said of Payne:
“His films are usually sardonic and dry, although they also are filled with empathy.
But this is the most empathetic of all of them. Just the way he uses his
observational skills to show what people are really like—the way they dress,
how they speak to each other—brings out the true humanity” (Wloszczyna).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Payne’s
comedy can make you squirm because he cuts so close to the bone of middle-class
family dysfunction. But the acid satire is balanced by a compassion that saves
his movies from cruelty. Even when the filmmaker’s plots are abject, his films
are too taken with fleeting moments of kindness or beauty to be altogether
bleak. In one unforgettable scene in <i>About Schmidt</i>, the main character comes
on to a married woman in a trailer park. She’s seen into his soul, and he’s so
moved and aroused that he misinterprets her interest as a sexual invitation. To
borrow the name of the film’s setting (Happy Hollow in Omaha, Nebraska), Payne
sees both the happy and the hollow and ends up articulating “a distinctly
Midwestern existentialism: deep ennui charmed by a paradoxical, unrelenting
optimism” (Hodgman). We laugh at the woman’s exaggerated cheeriness and her
pop-psychology jargon, but all her perceptions about Schmidt are true, and you
can see why he’s drawn to her. This scene is a perfect example of Payne’s
uncanny ability to wed hilarity, humiliation and heartbreak in a single moment.
The laughs—and there are many—are born out of loss and pain. “The goal of most
comedy directors is to make an audience laugh until it hurts, but Payne flips
that around: He makes it hurt until you laugh.” (Rottenberg). Payne serves his
comedy black, no sugar.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The
director strikes a perfect balance between sympathy and satire; deathly afraid
of being too sentimental, he believes emotion should be set against a cold
background to stand out in relief. This is one of the reasons so many of his
films are set in the sparse Nebraska landscape. Under the environment’s
deceptively flat surface lies a delayed-release emotional charge that is
devastating specifically because of the contrast between the coldness and
austerity of the setting and the warmth and humanity of the characterization (Ansen).
“Payne is a rare type in American film: a regionalist… He shoots films in
neighborhoods that are solid and unassuming, familiar from life but less so
from movies.” Setting four of his films in his home state, including <i>About Schmidt</i>, the filmmaker wants to
explore the mystery of the place he’s from—“those early buttons, how it haunts
you” (Payne, qtd. In Talbot). In the process, he offers a vision of flyover
America rarely glimpsed in mainstream movies: Midwestern, middle (or lower)
class lives and the bulk groceries, strip malls and economy cars that populate
them, some of it played for laughs, but never at the expense of the characters’
fundamental dignity.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Many
of the director’s works feature, in smaller roles, locals who have never acted
professionally, or at all. Recreating neorealism in the heartland, Payne is
determined to have his films look grounded in the day-to-day. “You’re trying to
create a real world onscreen,” he explains, “so it’s best to pick from the real
world, whether it’s a location or a beat-up old car or a human being. Because
it anchors you. The audience can’t do all the work” (qtd. In Talbot). Payne’s
familiarity with the everyday flow of life and the details of the Midwestern
setting allows him to explore the deeper, less obvious mysteries that lie
beneath the surface of the seemingly mundane. In <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0808245/">Scorsese’s documentary on Elia
Kazan</a>, Payne recalls, Scorsese says that “when he first saw those mugs in <i><a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/2013/08/on-waterfront-1954-analysis.html">On
the Waterfront</a></i>—faces like the ones he grew up around—he felt for the
first time as though the people he knew mattered. That rang a bell for me.”
(qtd. in Talbot). The ordinary individuals that populate Payne’s films live
empty, sterile lives in empty, sterile settings, but Payne convinces us that
they do, indeed, matter. In <i>About Schmidt</i>,
Omaha feels startlingly, painfully specific, an empty city of watery blues and
grays, the blank spot at the center of the map. “It’s as affecting a picture of
alienation as you’d find in, say, Antonioni’s <i><a href="http://www.criterion.com/films/209-l-avventura">L'Avventura</a></i>—only
with fewer beautiful Italian women and more stretch waistbands” (Hodgman). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Schmidt
is so lonely he reaches halfway across the globe for companionship. With no one
to talk to and incapable of connecting with his family, his only confidant is
his unanswering pen pal Ndugu, an 6-year-old Tanzanian orphan Schmidt is
inspired to sponsor by a late-night television pitch. Payne’s characters often
mire themselves in thickly layered self-justification—to heighten this effect,
the director generally employs first-person voice-over. Perhaps nowhere is this
device used more brilliantly than in <i>About
Schmidt</i>’s<i> </i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W-zEwGZ56Bs">voice-over letters</a>,
which are often at odds with reality—as
when Schmidt advises the Tanzanian orphan to pledge a fraternity when he goes
to college—but allow us to overhear the character wrestling with his dawning
awareness of the emptiness inside him. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In
these long narrated monologues decades of simmering disappointment start to
boil, and Schmidt tears apart his wife, his daughter’s choice in men, and his
own failed fortunes. Yet even at his barest, he cannot help but pretty up the
pain, referring to his daughter’s shipping clerk job as a “position of some
responsibility” with a “'high-tech computer outfit.” The fact that he is lying
to a six-year-old African kid never enters his mind. He is unable, finally, to
express himself except in the aphorisms of business correspondence. “Here I am
rambling on and on,” he writes, “and you probably want to hurry on down, cash
that check and get yourself something to eat. . . . Best of luck with all your
endeavors. Yours, very truly, Warren Schmidt.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The
overwhelming sense of loneliness and isolation that Payne’s Nebraskan
characters feel seems to match the environment, but the same mood pervades the
director’s out-of-state ventures as well. The bleached color palette of <i>Sideways</i>—sunlight burning in every
frame—the lyrical camerawork, and jazzy score bring to mind <a href="http://moreintelligentlife.com/story/why-you-should-know-name-hal-ashby">Hal
Ashby</a>, but, at the same time, the movie retains Payne’s vision of a lonely,
sanitized America. For Miles, wine is a
release, a medium in which he can speak with eloquence and superiority. “There
was a tasting last night,” he explains early in the movie, on one of those
alcoholic mornings that begin in the afternoon and strain eagerly toward the
first drink. That’s why he’s a little shaky. He’s not an alcoholic, you see;
he’s an oenophile, which means he can continue to pronounce French wines long
after most people would be unconscious. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In
what is perhaps <i>Sideways</i>’ <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XKXCZhA328A">loveliest scene</a>, Miles, similarly
to the conclusion of Warren’s letter, also cloaks his feelings in the jargon
that he knows best. When he tells Maya of his fondness for Pinot there’s a
welcome ambiguity over whether he is in fact talking about himself: “It’s a
hard grape to grow, thin-skinned, temperamental; it ripens early. It’s not a
survivor like Cabernet, which can just grow anywhere and thrive even when it’s
neglected. No, Pinot needs constant care and attention… Only the most patient
and nurturing of growers can build it really, only someone who takes the time
to understand Pinot’s potential can then coax it into its fullest expression….
Its flavors, they’re just the most haunting, and brilliant, and thrilling and
subtle and ancient on the planet. Cabernets can be powerful and exalting too,
but they seem prosaic to me by comparison.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Maya
responds with an equally eloquent and impassioned <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X8P3kF2DHj4">speech on the life of wine</a>,
“how it’s a living thing” which continues to evolve, gaining in complexity
until it peaks, “and then it begins its steady, inevitable decline.” Her words
seem to describe, in wine metaphors, the entire cycle of human life. “And it
tastes so fucking good,” she concludes. Most directors would have played the
scene as seduction, but Payne strikes a deeper note. He contrasts the
characters’ confident expressions of passion for different wines with the
hesitation they both feel in letting down their emotional barriers. We suspect
Miles and Maya were insecure and lonely people before their spouses left them,
and in the aftermath of their loss they have wrapped themselves in protective
cocoons. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Sideways </i>begins and ends
with insistent hands knocking on front doors, the twin images bookending the
film as bittersweet as what comes in between—a search for a home, a place to
belong, and a chance to connect with another human being. Miles’s journey
culminates at Maya’s front door; he is ready to let his barriers down and begin
a relationship. He’s finally made it home.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In
<i>The Descendants</i>, Matt doesn’t have to
journey far to find his home; he must only look at what he already has—acres
and acres of unspoiled land on Kauai that Matt’s family has inherited and must
now sell off. Although the focus of the film is on the human characters, Payne
isn’t beyond splurging on the island’s natural beauty; in fact, the director
gives the “side-story” of the land deal almost as much screen time as the
family drama, each narrative thread enhancing the other as the movie evolves
into a richly layered consideration of personal and civic responsibility. </span></span></div>
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the end, the character cannot sign the virgin beaches over to real estate
contractors lining up to build high-class resorts. “I sign this document,” he
explains, “and something that we were supposed to protect is gone forever. Now
we’re <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haole">haole</a> as shit, and we go
to private schools and clubs, and we can barely speak pidgin, let alone
Hawaiian, but we’ve got Hawaiian blood, and we’re tied to this land, and our
children are tied to this land.” Matt’s home, his identity, his history and
ancestry are tied up in this parcel of land, and, in keeping it, he proudly
proclaims that it is his home. Life goes on at the end of the movie, much as it
had done before, except Matt has established a place that he belongs to, and,
in the brilliant coda, makes it clear that his family will survive this tragedy
together. “We have seen such leisurewear [Hawaiian shirts] before,” <a href="http://www.newyorker.com/contributors/anthony-lane">Anthony Lane</a>
writes in the <i>New Yorker</i>,<i> </i>“on <a href="http://www.sinatra.com/">Frank
Sinatra</a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001050/">Montgomery Clift</a>,
as they toured the local bars, in <i><a href="http://www.filmsite.org/from.html">From Here to Eternity</a></i>. Both
films are infused with the atmosphere of their Hawaiian setting, and its
strange compound of chillout and treachery…. Both films conclude, too, with
floral garlands cast into the ocean, though Payne provides an aftermath—a
delicious downtime, in which Matt and his children sit on the couch with ice
cream and watch TV. Death, which has loomed ahead throughout, begins to drift
away behind them, and the film completes its journey: from eternity to here.”</span></span></div>
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</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The
director’s goal, in all of his films, seems to be to bring his characters from
eternity to here. His work in <i>About
Schmidt</i>, <i>Sideways</i>, and <i>The Descendants</i> reverberates with the power
of deeper, universal themes, yet it is grounded in the specific and the
commonplace. “Ages from now, when historians recall what the
filling of America—the chewier parts between New York and L. A.—once tasted
like, they’d be wise to order up the movies of Alexander Payne. It’s not simply
that the… director and screenwriter favors setting his movies in Omaha, where
he grew up, or that the extras in his comedies look as if they were cast by
Dorothea Lange herself. It’s that with
his lens, Payne drives straight through Middle America without ever treading
the middle of the road” (Hochman). This sentiment applies to all of the
filmmaker’s works, in and outside of Nebraska. Without a false note, Payne
tells the stories of lonely, ordinary individuals of unassuming backgrounds,
convincing you that they matter. At the end of their journeys, his protagonists
return to the life they had before embarking on the trip. Everything is the
same, but they are different. The sadness and loneliness have given way to a
human connection. The characters have found a place they belong, establishing
or accepting their true home. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span>Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-10606311117129580072014-07-27T08:33:00.000-04:002014-07-27T09:14:22.120-04:00Life Itself (2014)<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlAZagLeLpjc2PaqD7EMeroCPrJplCetv0LxHHRsuBiX-PUL_OQKQTddowT_kOWpHny3LcRMRTuN-ezdX973PKdEWD_DW5_Dv-6a3fZ0TX_kGG6KAa-l6QfhDIrs5h9imxE1exA1RRMC7C/s1600/20131120142143-life_itself_igg_graphic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlAZagLeLpjc2PaqD7EMeroCPrJplCetv0LxHHRsuBiX-PUL_OQKQTddowT_kOWpHny3LcRMRTuN-ezdX973PKdEWD_DW5_Dv-6a3fZ0TX_kGG6KAa-l6QfhDIrs5h9imxE1exA1RRMC7C/s1600/20131120142143-life_itself_igg_graphic.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhrHEThNffuLxr5o6X9hHefXOiyTr7B1Ynp4P4oydLXHcRyIXrr1n2AH4BC0GObIAkRpsLAi2HJfDatAi13mBEiR_P4hyOQMzS4MVPgIhHPUeJv0vEtGWtbR419rrAajswko6Nyn1DfSNC/s1600/4+Stars.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhrHEThNffuLxr5o6X9hHefXOiyTr7B1Ynp4P4oydLXHcRyIXrr1n2AH4BC0GObIAkRpsLAi2HJfDatAi13mBEiR_P4hyOQMzS4MVPgIhHPUeJv0vEtGWtbR419rrAajswko6Nyn1DfSNC/s1600/4+Stars.jpg" height="71" width="200" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">Roger Ebert loved movies—except the ones he <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Your-Movie-Sucks-Roger-Ebert/dp/0740763660/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1406460223&sr=8-2&keywords=i+hated+hated+hated+this+movie">hated</a>,
hated, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Hated-This-Movie/dp/0740706721/ref=sr_1_1_title_1_pap?ie=UTF8&qid=1406460223&sr=8-1&keywords=i+hated+hated+hated+this+movie">HATED</a>.
But even then he was (<a href="http://time.com/2957019/roger-ebert-life-itself-brutal-reviews/">usually</a>)
honest, fair, and kind. He was a generous champion of films and filmmakers; he
treated their triumphs like personal victories, their failures as intimately as
if they were his own. Steve James’ richly satisfying, sensitive, stirring <a href="http://www.biography.com/people/roger-ebert-554976">biography</a> is many
things, and all of them do him justice. Meticulous and moving, <i>Life
Itself</i> is about the history of both cinema and criticism, about Roger’s
illustrious career, his loving family, friends, and colleagues, his illness and
death—tragic because it robbed us of a great writer, a great thinker, and a
great man—and the memories he left behind, but most of all it is about life,
his and ours, the life of movie lovers everywhere. Because life itself, that
loaded two-word phrase, is what Roger really wrote about when he wrote about the
movies.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">The film has a (pleasantly) rambling, stream-of-consciousness flow to
it, underscored by deeper and more serious currents. For anyone familiar with
Roger’s writing, as well as anyone who loves film, the movie is a
must-see. It is also surprisingly
accessible to those utterly uninterested in film criticism, cutting to the
human heart of all this history to tell a raw and riveting life story. The
biography almost mimics Roger’s writing style, in which he combined his
encyclopedic knowledge of cinema with an approachable, plainspoken prose that
could be understood and enjoyed by anybody.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD4o6FFjIrG9gurDjdIovE9vFugiMhsaGHgQ3PeptaX5qraYjd_DF5c2mTifNxC3e6Fjre7LrwcH32lRh4hyphenhyphenb1DQQkW11jlnGDoDstJhD2cMk8C9D_YFn85bjBno5XjE0WvHjIT5kLk8Wj/s1600/film31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD4o6FFjIrG9gurDjdIovE9vFugiMhsaGHgQ3PeptaX5qraYjd_DF5c2mTifNxC3e6Fjre7LrwcH32lRh4hyphenhyphenb1DQQkW11jlnGDoDstJhD2cMk8C9D_YFn85bjBno5XjE0WvHjIT5kLk8Wj/s1600/film31.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">Based partly on the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Life-Itself-Memoir-Roger-Ebert/dp/0446584967/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1406460742&sr=8-2&keywords=life+itself">memoir</a>
of the same name, <i>Life Itself </i>is a
complex work of deftness and delicacy, a mix of documentary footage,
interviews, text, old video clips, photographs, drawings, and newspaper
clippings. The present framing, shot in the last five months of Roger’s life,
provides unflinching, sometimes disturbing insight into its subject’s medical
difficulties. Roger was as honest and transparent as possible about his long
battle with cancer and the harsh physical realities following multiple
surgeries, and so is this movie, in uncomfortable moments of pain, uncertainty,
exhaustion, and grief. The candor of many of James’ shots is a testimony to the
sincerity of Ebert’s determination to show “truth.” But the film is also, like
Roger, endlessly hopeful, funny, and forceful.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">Although a good part of the film takes place in the hospital Roger was
in at the time shooting began—the hospital which, sadly, he would never
leave—the tone is anything but sorrowful, and the film does not, for a second,
provoke undue pity, instead only reinforcing Roger’s and, most touchingly, his
wife Chaz’s seemingly limitless strength and perseverance. James’ biography is
completely accessible, engrossing, and often inspiring; the tears that welled
up in my eyes at the end had nothing to do with sadness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMZkyaRQ4180ilakPenDuadGReZTMWCTm5GFT9YeGV5GrGns9-RrxJjN-DleuiZoibXyeRl_j-K_09nx-A2xrZ1VvjoDgzTNrg1-JoozMkpnO4BE8afaCFYCrO-Hdyg0FAswvkBKOxIosv/s1600/Ebbi-og-Marti.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMZkyaRQ4180ilakPenDuadGReZTMWCTm5GFT9YeGV5GrGns9-RrxJjN-DleuiZoibXyeRl_j-K_09nx-A2xrZ1VvjoDgzTNrg1-JoozMkpnO4BE8afaCFYCrO-Hdyg0FAswvkBKOxIosv/s1600/Ebbi-og-Marti.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a><i>Life Itself </i>sheds light on a
life lived in the dark of a movie theater. The documentary, like Roger’s memoir,
displays aspects of his life both openly public and deeply personal, going back to his parents and childhood, education and training as a student
journalist at the University of Illinois and the development of a critical
voice that would lead to an almost half-century-long writing career at the <i><a href="http://www.suntimes.com/">Chicago
Sun-Times</a></i> and innovative work in television and online. It touches on his
recognition and awards—Roger was the first film critic to win a <a href="http://www.pulitzer.org/bycat/Criticism">Pulitzer</a>—alcoholism and
sobriety, relationships and marriage, his friendship with famous filmmakers
(notably <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/search/label/Martin%20Scorsese">Martin
Scorsese</a> and <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/2013/10/always-have-iguana-around-werner-herzog.html">Werner
Herzog</a>), the <a href="http://www.ranker.com/list/roger-ebert-books-and-stories-and-written-works/reference?var=2&utm_expid=16418821-43.HhKtbZiZSGitn6A8tv5ipw.1&utm_referrer=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.google.ro%2Furl%3Fsa%3Dt%26rct%3Dj%26q%3D%26esrc%3Ds%26source%3Dweb%26cd%3D4%26ved%3D0CJ4BEBYwAw%26url%3Dhttp%253A%252F%252Fwww.ranker.com%252Flist%252Froger-ebert-books-and-stories-and-written-works%252Freference%26ei%3DC-LUU9HTJeL8ywOT-oDYAQ%26usg%3DAFQjCNEr7i_t0KqBEe3DY8KJx8GrAZKkcg%26sig2%3DBTqZf1Rjk6NitcbY4dAQyA%26bvm%3Dbv.71778758%2Cd.bGQ">many
books</a> he published, and his influence as a critic.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8rOKyXpVnCVjOiDnyjRSNAcClib4CkE9eeTIFB2EkQh2e-hBHRN_1nTVzoL_QbTYrz2dYa9h_GzKMd9wGhC4AqmKxGzUedUtu-nY3rsfltFmWm8jwBIzswdlEf7F_9dF9PWcljM918u7u/s1600/82249.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8rOKyXpVnCVjOiDnyjRSNAcClib4CkE9eeTIFB2EkQh2e-hBHRN_1nTVzoL_QbTYrz2dYa9h_GzKMd9wGhC4AqmKxGzUedUtu-nY3rsfltFmWm8jwBIzswdlEf7F_9dF9PWcljM918u7u/s1600/82249.jpg" height="203" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">Above all, <i>Life Itself </i>is a
love story, chronicling Roger’s incredibly tender and devoted marriage to Chaz
as well as his competitive but deeply affectionate relationship with Gene
Siskel, the film critic for the <i><a href="http://www.chicagotribune.com/">Chicago Tribune</a></i> and co-host of <i><a href="http://siskelandebert.org/">Siskel
& Ebert</a> </i>in its many incarnations. “Gene,” an observer notes, “was a
rogue planet in Roger’s solar system.” Critical argument pushed to the point of
comic performance art, shouting matches and withering put-downs were hallmarks
of <a href="http://www.slate.com/articles/arts/culturebox/2012/03/siskel_and_ebert_an_oral_history_.html">the
TV show</a>. But there was something so intimate and personal about it that we
felt like we were intruding on a family argument.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">It is through the exploration of this and other personal and
professional connections that we get to know the man with the most famous
thumbs on the planet. It’s a loving and warm portrait, but it has enough
respect for us and Roger to not try to turn him into a saint. “He is a nice
guy,” we’re told by those who knew him best, “but he wasn’t <i>that</i> nice.” Roger could be domineering,
spoiled, selfish, and rude. He could steal a cab from an eight-month pregnant
woman. But he could also be nearly unimaginably giving and selfless, especially
in his later years.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">In 2006, the most famous film critic the world has ever known lost his
voice along with his jaw and ability to drink or eat. The years following, he
learned to “speak” via a synthesizer that vocalized what he quickly wrote on a
computer, launched his <a href="http://www.rogerebert.com/">blog and website</a>
that consolidated his life’s work and gave him a larger following than ever,
and began writing with unprecedented fluency about a wider range of issues.
These reviews and essays represent some of his best, most insightful and most
personal writing. With his physical voice gone, his figurative one flowered.
Many excerpts from his later work are read aloud in <i>Life Itself</i>, and it is these words that form the emotional and
intellectual heart of the movie.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdBKaxGnRJFRexkTBhe9COPKsI5D6rtmWFyUk7ua7dpLDsR77uSAOlo4ddozvWddf3ZWi9C0ayOiwF9E2dsOYKQ132SRkQOl-Tck51Wr9nrZpGwqRD675o1PuVmY2zXy7xEOikBv7dAlaD/s1600/ebert-pulitzer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdBKaxGnRJFRexkTBhe9COPKsI5D6rtmWFyUk7ua7dpLDsR77uSAOlo4ddozvWddf3ZWi9C0ayOiwF9E2dsOYKQ132SRkQOl-Tck51Wr9nrZpGwqRD675o1PuVmY2zXy7xEOikBv7dAlaD/s1600/ebert-pulitzer.jpg" height="219" width="320" /></a>James’ documentary is sympathetic but straightforward, as unbiased as a
film made by a man whose career is due in large part to Roger could possibly be
(Ebert was the crucial early supporter of the director’s debut feature <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ph2Y-epihlk"><span style="font-style: normal;">Hoop Dreams</span></a></i> twenty years ago). It paints a full, three-dimensional
picture of the man, virtues as well as flaws, and does so without sinking into
cheap, cloying sentimentality. I couldn’t possibly hope my review of it is
anywhere near as impartial. I grew up reading Roger’s work and hope to grow old
re-reading it. This spring, I started the acknowledgement section of my
undergraduate thesis by thanking Roger, whom I’ve never met, but whose writing,
warmth and wit touched millions, including myself. “He was a titan of film
criticism,” I wrote, “but he was more than that. He was a presence. He was an
inspiration. He was my first role model. He taught me to love, respect, and
understand films; he taught me how to be a better viewer, a better writer, and
a better person.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">Movies are a machine that generates empathy, Roger has said. Those of
us who’ve read his reviews surely don’t need <i>Life Itself </i>to empathize with him, but we are grateful for the
chance to celebrate his life. Loved or hated, Roger was well-known to everyone
who cared about cinema, and his work had a deep impact on all of them. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">Most critics write to show off how much they know, to keep you at arm’s
length. Roger Ebert wrote to let you in; to read him is to pull up a
chair and join the conversation. The same can be said about watching <i>Life Itself</i><i>. </i>The words that close it are the same ones that closed his <a data-mce-href="http://www.rogerebert.com/rogers-journal/a-leave-of-presence" href="http://www.rogerebert.com/rogers-journal/a-leave-of-presence">final blog post</a>, written the day before he died. “I’ll see you at the movies.” Wherever you are, Roger, I hope you’re watching great movies.</span></div>
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<![endif]--><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span>Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-12522266593598982892014-07-10T07:18:00.000-04:002014-07-10T11:51:04.062-04:00Only Lovers Left Alive (2013)<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Tilda Swinton and Tom Hiddleston make the perfect pair of ivory-skinned
wraiths in <a href="http://www.moviemaker.com/articles-directing/jim-jarmusch-5-golden-rules-of-moviemaking/">maverick</a>
moviemaker <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/2013/05/jim-jarmusch-coffe-cabs-and-cigarettes.html">Jim
Jarmusch</a>’s <i>Only Lovers Left Alive</i>.
These fabulously aloof, effortlessly stylish creatures are the coolest people
you could imagine. They were hipsters before it was cool to be a hipster—a few
centuries before, actually. In the
film’s <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=meHc-w5S8eA">hypnotic opening sequence</a>
a spinning 45-rpm record fills the screen, and Wanda Jackson’s witchy, bewitching
wail fills your soul. The image dissolves into a revolving bird’s eye view of
two silent, still figures, she surrounded by countless stacks of books strewn
across the floor, he reclined in a couch amid vintage guitars and vinyl
records, miles apart yet seemingly in the same room. Round and round they go,
the camera circling closer and closer, inviting you to follow down the rabbit
hole of this dark, delirious, delicious film. These bloodsuckers might be after
your hemoglobin, but their story and style will start seeping into your veins
as early as that first shot. Jarmusch’s undead really know how to live.</span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Isolated by the blessing and curse of eternal life, Adam (Hidleston) resides
in a dilapidated mansion on the outskirts of Detroit. The woeful and weary
loner finds his only solace in penning mournfully mesmerizing mood music. (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QPT9EqYBnjU&list=PLmBIzjN9th9fpR17vBVxAUnVypW-v1MCL&index=1">The
film’s score</a>, by SQÜRL and Jozef van Wissem, is a wonder onto itself, and
well worth the price of admission alone.) Ian (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0947338/">Anton Yelchin</a>), an eager but
none-too-swift young admirer who might or might not have kept the secret of
Adam’s underground recording tends to his every artistic need, namely acquiring
rare guitars. When the musician lets slip that he saw <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MeWC59FJqGc">Eddie Cochran</a>—who died
in 1960—play a flawless <a href="http://www.gretschguitars.com/">Gretsch</a>
that Ian admires, he quickly remembers to add “on YouTube,” and the young man
seems unperturbed by Adam’s nocturnal habits or the fact that his bathroom is
perennially out of order. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Adam’s spouse and soulmate is Eve (Swinton), a runway-ready vision in
white, swathed in creamy silk scarves and a mass of beige hair, with fawn-hued
leather gloves and skin like the inside of a seashell. Living in Tangiers, she spends
her time speed-reading books in every known language and lingering in all-night
cafes with Christopher Marlowe (John Hurt), who still holds a grudge, five
centuries after the fact, because Shakespeare stole his plays—yes, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marlovian_theory_of_Shakespeare_authorship">that
Kit Marlowe</a>. According to Jarmusch, he’s alive and well, acting as Eve’s
mentor, confidant, and blood supplier. Adam and Eve, you see, are not the type
to go out and bite necks. They purchase their O-negative nutrition from medical
professionals (including one played by <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0942482/?ref_=nv_sr_3">Jeffrey Wright</a>) and
drink it from long-stemmed, stylish aperitif glasses, because hunting is <i>so</i> 15th century.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The two vampires have been in love for hundreds of years, and they are
so devoted to each other that they can spend long stretches of time apart on
separate continents, like nuclear particles in Einstein’s <a href="http://www.quantum-energy.org/quantum-physics/string-theory-and-theory-of-entanglement/">theory
of entanglement</a> (which is explained in the dialogue), but still keep the
connection between them alive. Eve senses from halfway across the globe that
Adam is a bit down—or down-er than usual—and books a couple of night flights to
visit. When she arrives, the two embrace like secret Victorian lovers; he peels
off her glove and kisses her palm. There is instant rapture, a perpetuation of
the presumed longest love affair in the world (a photo documents their third
wedding, in 1868). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">For the next few nights they proceed to laze all over each other with
swooning, erotic abandon, soaking up the music and the conversation, which
includes everything from the exact age of silk dressing gowns and string quartets
to the Latin names of flora and fauna. Avatars of cultivation, sophistication,
and romantic devotion that put average humans to shame,<i> </i>Adam and Eve invoke everyone from Descartes and Tesla to James
Joyce and Jack White. Adam’s walls are hung with portraits of the great
geniuses of painting, literature, cinema, and music (Franz Kafka, Billie
Holiday, Buster Keaton, Mark Twain, and of course Marlowe himself among dozens
of others). Byron and Shelley are name-checked, and we find out the couple has
met both. When asked about the woman who wrote <i>Frankenstein</i>, a look of fondness flashes in Adam’s eyes as he
responds, “She was delicious.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Trying to sum up the film, it strikes me it’s less a story than a
sensibility. Made up of comical musings, nostalgic longing, and sorrowful loss,
<i>Only Lovers Left Alive</i> has little
plot to speak of. It’s all atmosphere and attitude, as evanescent as a dream.
In its painterly composition and rich detail, it’s a film to luxuriate in
rather than watch, a slow-burn celebration of art, style, and aimless
conversations. The emphasis not on action but interaction. The pleasurably
languorous pace picks up when Eve’s brazen, bratty little sister Ava (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1985859/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Mia Wasikowska</a>)
shows up for a visit—to Adam’s comical dismay—and soon upends their carefully
maintained universe. This section is essentially a light comedy of social
mores, but it’s also the weakest of the movie.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxO5uiAxDSvQWaDvz8muUqfLcN7b-UJtfrxX_3SaFVOn1mjd7p5a89ezN2QLKCkcJwNp21MwMPHBX1Bbv43PHAA2nXkRBx_S11QPp335EnFAZAkaFCUL56xOzu_J3zUDlxjT15GhTSZ-dt/s1600/Tilda-in-Only-Lovers-Left-Alive.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxO5uiAxDSvQWaDvz8muUqfLcN7b-UJtfrxX_3SaFVOn1mjd7p5a89ezN2QLKCkcJwNp21MwMPHBX1Bbv43PHAA2nXkRBx_S11QPp335EnFAZAkaFCUL56xOzu_J3zUDlxjT15GhTSZ-dt/s1600/Tilda-in-Only-Lovers-Left-Alive.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Jarmusch’s denizens of the dark are way too cool for a regular movie
plot, just as they’re too cool for the chaos that exists outside their
carefully curated domains. Their hermetic lairs are awash with rare books,
objets d’art, collectible musical instruments, exotic fabrics and general
exquisite taste. The vampires are a kind of aesthetic aristocracy among us mere
mortals. The ordinary humans of the digital age, derisively
called zombies, have lost or squandered the ability to appreciate art and all the
tactile, sensual glories of the past or fathom the possibilities of the future—Adam
is especially sick of mankind’s “fear of their own imaginations.” We’re too
plugged in and caught up in the new to have any time for the old. But, like the
circle that opens the film, everything always comes round, and the old is just
on the cusp of being new to someone.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Having seen the world hit so many lows (plagues, droughts, fires,
inquisitions), Eve is serene in her knowledge of history’s circular nature and
hopeful for renewal. When the lovers embark on languid explorations of the
darkened ruins of Detroit, most poignantly the Michigan theater, the film
becomes a rueful, often ravishing study of a civilization teetering on the very
brink of extinction, but one that is surprisingly hopeful. As he did with
Memphis in <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nb0yBDSqTfs">Mystery Train</a></i>,
Jarmusch turns <i>Only Lovers Left Alive</i>
into an elegy to a great city which has fallen but will, Eve is certain, rise
again. “There’s water here. When the South is burning, this place will bloom,”
she softly predicts. Like Edward Hopper, the film’s writer-director captures
the particular look of this tawdry American landscape and finds beauty and
lyricism in the most unlikely places. Motor City’s crumbling factories and
decrepit theaters are a sad sight, indeed, but not a forlorn one. As shot by
cinematographer <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0494617/?ref_=fn_al_nm_1">Yorick
Le Saux</a> in nighttime traveling shots, the desolate Detroit cityscapes, as
well as Tangiers’ acrid backstreets, turn to visual poetry.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">And if Jarmusch and, of course, Adam and Eve can find the beauty in the
rundown, ramshackle side of town, why can’t we? The title of the movie has a
double meaning. The main characters are indeed lovers. They love each other
deeply, but they also love art, beauty, animals, people, places; they love
love. And it is because of this that they survive. What is there to live for,
Adam asks Eve while contemplating ending his own life. “Appreciating nature,”
she says pensively, “kindness, and dancing.” The words flow from the heart and
soul of <a href="http://sensesofcinema.com/2003/great-directors/jarmusch/">Jarmusch</a>
himself. His movie becomes a fierce, funny, stylish plea to the human race from
the undead to enjoy life and embrace the wonders of the world around us. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtCqtix1NaowrtCZZU_hJwBBA8laDgCfk7baI-5ll4MOs7iblAa80ll9EtMv3utMU-cAfLcyGEX5qtRSB5SGJ-Cw5d2ljEaKA8XFRNhqxcgOFL4Bfl7p-fUy0V1fX46xO9G34ubgDVBIMo/s1600/olla+dark+and+light.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtCqtix1NaowrtCZZU_hJwBBA8laDgCfk7baI-5ll4MOs7iblAa80ll9EtMv3utMU-cAfLcyGEX5qtRSB5SGJ-Cw5d2ljEaKA8XFRNhqxcgOFL4Bfl7p-fUy0V1fX46xO9G34ubgDVBIMo/s1600/olla+dark+and+light.jpg" height="341" width="400" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">If this all sounds a bit didactic, it’s not in practice. <i>Only Lovers Left Alive</i> is as silly as it
is deeply serious. As usual, the filmmaker mixes high and low culture,
intellectual elitism and wry, off-kilter humor, letting show an intensely
personal, abiding belief in the power of art, science, philosophical inquiry,
and intellectual daring. In the hands of a lesser filmmaker it would all be
terribly condescending and snobbish, but… well, maybe it still is a little bit,
but that’s part of the fun, and it’s a hell of a lot better than the
alternatives.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In the toothless era of <i><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/anzabookend/let-s-make-fun-of-twilight/">Twilight</a> </i>and
its myriad defanged imitators, this is the vampire romance I’ve been waiting
for. Leave it to <a href="http://www.indiewire.com/article/jim-jarmusch-on-the-future-of-independent-film-cinema-needs-to-be-reduced-to-its-essential-poetry">the
godfather of contemporary American independent cinema</a> to breathe life into
an overworked, underwhelming genre and prove there are new sights and sounds
and meanings to be derived from the conceit of characters who rarely sleep,
don’t die, and feast on human blood. Utterly, glowingly alive, these “undead”
don’t need the sun to sparkle. They’re shining, soulful superstars, lit up from
within. <i>Only Lovers Left Alive</i>’s got
bite.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Read my analysis of Jarmusch's <i>Night on Earth </i>and<i> Coffee and Cigarettes</i> <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/2013/05/jim-jarmusch-coffe-cabs-and-cigarettes.html">HERE</a>. </span></span></div>
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<![endif]-->Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-51377178116231689932014-07-06T08:38:00.001-04:002014-07-06T08:38:21.972-04:00"Safety Last!" and the Most Iconic Image in Silent Comedy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh958lSpxcHXPJI90qTmno-TtCtdDm_Cub24Rp1AjnbwbrqgOMcQpd9QeD8ilLBSJMdp4Oxa7fe_qUpGlaF4Yn4SFwBHb7ytkZaf0bS94WrnHR38hIBlnhH1hoQqwpl617YtTZzMaSv_YDm/s1600/Lloyd,+Harold+(Safety+Last)_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh958lSpxcHXPJI90qTmno-TtCtdDm_Cub24Rp1AjnbwbrqgOMcQpd9QeD8ilLBSJMdp4Oxa7fe_qUpGlaF4Yn4SFwBHb7ytkZaf0bS94WrnHR38hIBlnhH1hoQqwpl617YtTZzMaSv_YDm/s1600/Lloyd,+Harold+(Safety+Last)_01.jpg" height="414" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The quintessential <a href="http://haroldlloyd.com/home" target="_blank">Harold Lloyd</a> character is the affable, bespectacled
boy next door, anxious to get ahead, not very good at anything, but willing to
compensate through sheer energy, bounce, and push; he is the comedic embodiment
of the <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/search/label/American%20Dream" target="_blank">American Dream</a>—what an ordinary man can achieve through a lot of hard
work. The filmmaker’s success, as well as that of his characters, is that rare
American miracle, the improbable, inspiring accomplishment that couldn’t
possibly happen, but did. <i>Safety Last!</i>
(1923), Lloyd’s most famous film, tells the story of a small-town young man on
the make in the big city, trying to save up enough money so he can marry the
woman he loves. Why a story of material betterment and romance should culminate
on top of a skyscraper, only Lloyd could tell you. But it is in that
juxtaposition of gag and thrill, at the intersection of improbability and
idealism, that Lloyd’s specific brand of movie magic transpired. Benefitting
from careful plotting, an impeccable sense of timing and tight, functional,
unobtrusive editing rhythms, certain sequences of <i>Safety Last!</i>, which follow’s <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/2013/11/sennett-and-roach-two-methods-to-madness.html" target="_blank">Roach method of accumulation ratherthan Sennett’s madcap speed</a>, can serve as perfect models of how to construct a
gag, develop it, twist it, scramble it, then redevelop it, twist it again, and
top it. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2LNquaikKDEkPq7JgQC76mkCVxCFugLYRV2l9BhcZ3Ab6WmDpZZQao-ndx0y1opB6C_TOARYSDMELmJEa-D9U1kIovvkr6QHlWY7WgVu5Qh3seFeyeuAxZ0gvpgYHOQoRFeEGrk5mlu7T/s1600/8179_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2LNquaikKDEkPq7JgQC76mkCVxCFugLYRV2l9BhcZ3Ab6WmDpZZQao-ndx0y1opB6C_TOARYSDMELmJEa-D9U1kIovvkr6QHlWY7WgVu5Qh3seFeyeuAxZ0gvpgYHOQoRFeEGrk5mlu7T/s1600/8179_2.jpg" height="224" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The most famous of these sequences is, of course, the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QEcTjhUN_7U" target="_blank">climactic climb</a>
up a twelve story building in the movie’s finale, which is perhaps the best
union of thrill and gag in Lloyd’s entire career. A large series of earlier
events converge in the perfect formula to lead to this conclusion—a constant
trait of Lloyd’s films is his careful arrangement of disparate pieces to lead
to a whole, as if he is sewing tiny patches of material together which will
only make sense when his character is faced with the entirety of the comedic
cloth. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In an early scene, Harold wants to demonstrate to his friend his sway
with the police. He had met a former neighbor and friend, now a policeman in
the big city. In an effort to impress his friend, he tells him to shove the
officer as Harold kneels down behind him to knock him down. Of course, the
prank is played on the wrong cop, and Harold’s friend must run from the
policeman, finally scaling a building to safety. Throughout the movie, Harold
has managed to convince his sweetheart that he has become a rich man with a
prestigious position. When she shows up to surprise him, he finds the perfect
opportunity to turn his lies into truth. Overhearing a conversation between his
boss and the general manager, who says he would offer anyone with an idea to
draw more customers a thousand dollars, Harold thinks of his friend, the “human
fly,” climbing the department store building and offers to split the money with
him. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYJNFf6IDkLZ3KlirLEkn9dLDg_0BUgJCJh7ltypg2E2wztTXDe_UpDur954ACakAZiklWh3vFzmVQHmJZaIh8PfoUPKKMeTQ5XLkmbPSf9GAWLDIXCMTq0NMC1aLUpiBuX-naqu_d8xlN/s1600/Annex+-+Lloyd%252C+Harold+%2528Safety+Last%2529_02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYJNFf6IDkLZ3KlirLEkn9dLDg_0BUgJCJh7ltypg2E2wztTXDe_UpDur954ACakAZiklWh3vFzmVQHmJZaIh8PfoUPKKMeTQ5XLkmbPSf9GAWLDIXCMTq0NMC1aLUpiBuX-naqu_d8xlN/s1600/Annex+-+Lloyd%252C+Harold+%2528Safety+Last%2529_02.jpg" height="246" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">On the day of the demonstration, a large crowd gathers to watch, among
them the policeman the two characters have previously knocked down. Harold goes
through a series of failed attempts to get rid of him: he calls him to a tool
house pretending someone is in danger and locks him in, without noticing there
is another, wide open, door on the side; he writes “kick me” in chalk on a wall
(backwards), and then pushes the policeman into it, hopeful that someone will
heed the suggestion and distract the officer. Harold’s friend, scared of
apprehension, devises a plan: Harold will climb the first two floors of the
building while he ditches the cop, and then switch places. (It’s interesting to
note that the idea of Harold cheating to get the money doesn’t disqualify him
for the reward in our eyes or make us root for him any less.)</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGf32LlXc2dkafPabkqbGxfs9ym5gSV4kB0CZ-3J2F1zbGW3Ja9waGLUhA8Dw1y4j_jvE1F0KFFABhURTdijHNfLaZf7y1Pgj0dpVdn9enN39b0C0YN7Sov0QqTqbmGpuVFghhKsSii4xD/s1600/Film_662w_SafetyLast_original.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGf32LlXc2dkafPabkqbGxfs9ym5gSV4kB0CZ-3J2F1zbGW3Ja9waGLUhA8Dw1y4j_jvE1F0KFFABhURTdijHNfLaZf7y1Pgj0dpVdn9enN39b0C0YN7Sov0QqTqbmGpuVFghhKsSii4xD/s1600/Film_662w_SafetyLast_original.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The final sequence of the film, carefully constructed and brilliantly
funny, is thus set up. In addition to getting himself into elevated trouble,
Lloyd is turning a number of other screws. The character not only ends up
climbing twelve stories, but is convinced, with each floor, that he will be relieved
of climbing farther, hoping his friend will take over. Throughout the climb, he
has to contend not only with the primary obstacle—gravity—but with other bits
of comedic trouble as well. Children spill popcorn on his head; pigeons coo in
his face and sit on his shoulders; a tennis net drops from a sporting goods
department onto his head and shoulders; the scaffolding used by the building’s
painters entangles his legs and body; “helpful” onlookers pop out of their
windows to warn him he might fall and get hurt; his friend advises him to “make
this next floor faster”; he gets attacked by a dog, whose owner then scolds him
for endangering his pet; he opens the window of a photo studio where a model
holds a gun in his direction, and, when the camera flash goes off, Harold
thinks he is being shot at; he grabs a rope thrown to help him, which isn’t
actually tied to anything at the other end; a mouse (!) runs up his trousers.
The rhythmic, controlled cutting back and forth is extremely effective at
setting up these gags and presenting the twists.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In the most famous shot of the film, perhaps of any silent comedy (a shot </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">lovingly recreated in Martin Scorsese's <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/2012/12/0-0-1-947-5398-colby-sawyer-44-12-6333.html" target="_blank"><i>Hugo</i></a></span></span>), Lloyd
grabs hold of the building’s clock. Its minute hand steadily deserts its safe
position at nine (parallel to the ground) and slides back to six, leaving the
character holding onto a metal finger than points in a most alarming direction.
The whole face of the clock pops out, and Harold is left holding by a
thread—or, rather, a spring. When he finally makes it to the top of the
building, to apparent safety, he is greeted by a spinning anemometer. Crouching
and not paying attention to what he’s doing, it takes a full two minutes for
him to actually stand up and get smashed in the head, a wonderful example of
comedic suspense. After getting hit, Harold walks dizzily on the ledge of the
building, unable to take the one step to safety. Getting his foot caught in a
rope, he is swung, upside-down, in a great arc above the street, and finally
caught by his fiancée. Unlike tense melodrama, however, comic suspense never
lets us forget the character will succeed—his near-miss, near-fatal stunts
produce whooping laughter instead of actual audience anxiety.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The sheer size of the building and the distance between the character
and the ground—although the entire scene was shot above a protecting ledge,
masterfully kept off-screen through the perfect camera angle—dwarf Harold’s
presence, and make his accomplishments that much more impressive. It is obvious
from the beginning of the sequence that he will not be able to switch with his
friend. The character could not settle down for a modest reward and safety,
having to risk everything for success. The fact that he succeeds, against all
odds, epitomizes the appeal of <i>Safety
Last!</i>, the glasses character, and Lloyd’s career in general. An important
factor is that the fantastic stunts Harold goes through seem completely incongruous
to his character; he is brave but shy,
determined but misguided, energetic but not specifically gifted, physically or
otherwise, in other words, an ordinary individual. When he achieves the goals
he sets for himself, his accomplishment represents a victory for an audience
made up of ordinary individuals as well.</span></span></div>
Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-52487675647784868892014-06-29T11:17:00.000-04:002014-07-06T08:42:06.455-04:0022 Jump Street (2014)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Trying to write a review of <i>22
Jump Street</i>—which I’ve been putting off for as long as humanly possible—I
find myself at a loss. Not because I don’t have anything to say about this sly,
self-referencing movie, but because there doesn’t seem to be any need for it.
The film is critic-proof, reviewing itself as it goes along. It’s a buddy cop
movie about the conventions of buddy cop movies, a sequel about the appeal and
downside of sequels, a low expectation summer blockbuster about the low
expectations of all summer blockbusters. Basically, it wants to eat its genre
parody cake and have it too.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In <a href="http://www.amazon.com/21-Jump-Street-Jonah-Hill/dp/B0081L37Z0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1404051814&sr=8-1&keywords=21+jump+street">the
first movie</a>, the 2012 hit that borrowed its title and undercover brother
shtick from the old <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0092312/?ref_=nv_sr_2">television
show</a> best known for making every ’80s teenage girl in America and beyond <a href="http://37.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lm4o7nvUop1qkbmpfo1_500.gif">fall in
love</a> with <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/film/2014/jun/27/johnny-depp-chinese-reality-tv-show?CMP=ema_861">Johnny
Depp</a>, the Jump Street operation was restarted, Chief Hardy (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0644406/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Nick Offerman</a>)
explains, because “The guys in charge of this stuff lack creativity and are
completely out of ideas.” That may have registered as a jab at the studio
powers that be, but in reality it’s a smiling affirmation that the guys in
charge know precisely what they’re doing.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8vdlJnJQz3XBmPRNDDkZgx0fX6LStZ7Bsl2KxzpanRpjhVUvjyik_xxrZY0DTUuYXW8DyUSweSKRJXfwBWHXR_y295l2DO-BKEAMqW1MQAeYWGObdx1v_e-g-y-RJ9kw0gRV3as4V-Tza/s1600/489714_1.1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8vdlJnJQz3XBmPRNDDkZgx0fX6LStZ7Bsl2KxzpanRpjhVUvjyik_xxrZY0DTUuYXW8DyUSweSKRJXfwBWHXR_y295l2DO-BKEAMqW1MQAeYWGObdx1v_e-g-y-RJ9kw0gRV3as4V-Tza/s1600/489714_1.1.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Made by the creators of a series of self-aware blockbusters, including <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ISJR4rVO0TQ">21 Jump Street</a></i>,<i> <a href="http://www.electricfeast.com/review-cloudy-with-a-chance-of-meatballs-2/">Cloudy
with a Chance of Meatballs</a></i> and this year’s <i><a href="http://www.electricfeast.com/charles-reviews-the-lego-movie/">The
Lego Movie</a></i>, <a href="http://www.villagevoice.com/2014-06-04/film/22-jump-street-directors/">Phil
Lord and Christopher Miller</a>’s latest is an exploding assemblage of gags,
pratfalls, winking asides, throwaway one-liners, and self-aware jokes. Some of
it feels so artificially, meta-humorously obligatory, aiming only to recreate
the original in detail, only bigger and more expensive. But there’s no need for
me to accuse the filmmakers of paint-by-numbers plotting; they make that case
for me. In the process, <i>22 Jump Street</i>
successfully inoculates itself against criticism. It anticipates any objection
or observation you might make about it as a film and makes it first, with a
shrug and a grin. What <i>almost</i> saves it is that sometimes this commentary is
original and lively, even ecstatically silly. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The plot is basically a Xeroxed copy of the first film, the only
difference being that it swaps high school for college and prom for spring
break. After letting a wanted kingpin (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001780/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Peter Stormare</a>)
slip through their hands in the opening scene action setpiece—a hilarious
episode that builds to a great, <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/2014/07/safety-last-and-most-iconic-image-in.html">Harold Lloyd</a>-worthy bit of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QEcTjhUN_7U">death-defying
slapstick</a> with a touch of <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/2013/11/sennett-and-roach-two-methods-to-madness.html">Laurel
and Hardy</a> in the juxtaposition of <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/search/label/Jonah%20Hill" target="_blank">Jonah Hill</a>’s short, stocky inertia
against <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/search/label/Channing%20Tatum" target="_blank">Channing Tatum</a>’s chiseled, gravity-defying grace—bumbling cops Jenko
(Tatum) and Schmidt (Hill) are sent back
to school, to do what they do best, pose as students to bust a campus drug ring
whose newest designer pharmaceutical has just claimed its first life. “Do it <i>just like the last time</i>,” the cops’
surly commanding officer insists.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzXAYe0NrbJwVS0lUHhhMq6Q1u9kgVy6tl69byyNIravyvpta5DDB8H888l2eUAgmP1DdDcs6G5JMalEXPVEC21ON77C2MCRNxwj2Ff7LZMzxAC05Z1pXkj3okQxL1_5xCfO9kM6VM8eqY/s1600/22-jump-street-red-band-trailer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzXAYe0NrbJwVS0lUHhhMq6Q1u9kgVy6tl69byyNIravyvpta5DDB8H888l2eUAgmP1DdDcs6G5JMalEXPVEC21ON77C2MCRNxwj2Ff7LZMzxAC05Z1pXkj3okQxL1_5xCfO9kM6VM8eqY/s1600/22-jump-street-red-band-trailer.jpg" height="160" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">And just like the last time, <i>22
Jump Street</i> gets some mileage out of pairing the tall, beefy, athletic
Jenko with the doughy, short, schlubby Schmidt. It’s an odd coupling that
continues to tickle a comedy sweet spot, especially as the two go their
slightly separate ways, reversing the first movie’s dynamic so as to place
Jenko in the role genetics intended for him, that of the popular superstar, and
Schmidt as the clumsy, socially awkward tag-along. Tatum’s character becomes a football
star and bros up to key suspect Zook (<a href="http://www.nola.com/movies/index.ssf/2014/06/meet_wyatt_russell_22_jump_str.html">Wyatt
Russell</a>), his quarterback soulmate. While the two fratboys get busy appreciating
each other’s alpha male awesomeness, Schmidt falls for smart, beautiful art
major Maya (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0828226/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Amber
Stevens</a>). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The movie<i> </i>acknowledges its
own ridiculousness, starting with the absurd assumption that anyone would ever
believe Jenko and Schmidt were regular, 19 year-old students. “Tell us about
the war,” Maya’s roommate (<a href="http://www.mtv.com/news/1847192/jillian-bell-22-jump-street-breakout/">Jillian
Bell</a>), a witheringly, wonderfully sarcastic bitch, tells Schmidt, “any of
them.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Lord and Miller dive deep into the leading characters’ bromance, and
all that homoerotic energy that bubbles under the surface of action buddy films
is brought out for some air. Before long Schmidt and Jenko are talking about how
maybe they should start investigating other people in a hilarious breakup
conversation adapted to police jargon. “You want an <i>open</i> investigation?” Schmidt asks unbelievingly, tears already
welling up in his eyes.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP4eQ6KgU-PDil75BRZeX673JKsAv0V2DKBDOgUoo7tJFU-lP_lq7q_SAMCbV1Fsz8ZqqwoiIZeMWVPttUSIzDczA6q4rcBKkpeihLjMlgROWjJ6fgmowB576so1pz-9AoCDIokkdXNPam/s1600/22-jump-street-tv-spot-back-undercover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP4eQ6KgU-PDil75BRZeX673JKsAv0V2DKBDOgUoo7tJFU-lP_lq7q_SAMCbV1Fsz8ZqqwoiIZeMWVPttUSIzDczA6q4rcBKkpeihLjMlgROWjJ6fgmowB576so1pz-9AoCDIokkdXNPam/s1600/22-jump-street-tv-spot-back-undercover.jpg" height="152" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The actors are brilliant together. Hill knows how to milk Schmidt’s
hurt feelings for laughs instead of fake pathos, and it’s a real testament to
his gifts that he doesn’t overplay the sad-sack routine. But it’s Tatum who seems
especially boisterous and joyful here, like a mischievous first grader trapped
in a linebacker’s body. The actor has an astonishing gift for playing dumb
goodness, turning Jenko into the biggest, brawniest puppy in film history, a
human version of <a href="http://artsbeat.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/03/31/ferdinand-the-bull-turns-75/?_php=true&_type=blogs&_r=0">Ferdinand
the Bull</a>, who would rather sit and smell the flowers than fight.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The college scenes are hit-and-miss, with a loose, improv-comedy feel. <i>22 Jump Street</i> hits more often than not,
but even when it misses by a mile you have to appreciate the effort. Almost
worth the price of admission alone is Schmidt’s impromptu participation in a
slam poetry open mic night (sample lyric: “Jesus cried. Runaway bride!”). And
that’s if you don’t count the wry <i><a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/2013/09/annie-hall-1977-analysis.html">Annie
Hall</a></i> homage in the opening credits and its unexpected development later
on, some of the greatest split-screen gags I’ve ever seen—including a
laugh-until-you cry <i><a href="http://www.veoh.com/watch/v976505DjnbzTzX?h1=Duck+Amuck-Daffy+DUck+LooneyTunes">Duck
Amuck</a></i>-inspired extended drug trip—and a centerpiece with Ice Cube that
just about pays for every dumb <i><span style="font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/1141102-are_we_there_yet/"><i>Are We There Yet?</i></a></span></i> comedy
on his résumé. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWiOgYWuX4eV2BFPg8LduSlEE30EH006tmaCOi8IR3Zdcua1mv6n_xvTp0ZJTsstxm3AHcV-8upkgp4EI_mtIt55FyMO8NSXvGNXUwMdCZnHzMvuOro-wZAKo15aEJWJp5XLanFVucTZWn/s1600/screen_shot_2013-12-16_at_10.03.07_am_copy.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWiOgYWuX4eV2BFPg8LduSlEE30EH006tmaCOi8IR3Zdcua1mv6n_xvTp0ZJTsstxm3AHcV-8upkgp4EI_mtIt55FyMO8NSXvGNXUwMdCZnHzMvuOro-wZAKo15aEJWJp5XLanFVucTZWn/s1600/screen_shot_2013-12-16_at_10.03.07_am_copy.png" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">But the most enjoyable pleasures of this paean to summer silliness are the
small ones, like when the big, dim Jenko tries to cut a pane of glass with a
laser pointer, that almost audible little “ping” that sounds when he finally
grasps a crucial change in the relationship between Schmidt and Ice Cube’s hardass
Captain Dickson, or when, breathless and bursting with excitement over his
sleuthing skills, he informs his partner you can get the drug anywhere on
campus, at any time. The fact that it’s called Why-Phy (Work Hard Yes, Play
Hard Yes) and pronounced exactly like the wireless internet never burdened his
otherwise blissful mind.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“Nobody gave a shit about the Jump Street reboot,” says Dickson in an
early scene, the first of many, many, <i>many</i>
times when a character speaks about the fictional, undercover crime-fighting
operation in ways that clearly refer to the movie itself. But because the
reboot was <a href="http://blogs.indiewire.com/theplaylist/10-reasons-why-21-jump-street-exceeded-expectations">so
successful</a> in the story as well as the real world box office, Ice Cube’s
character continues, “We doubled the budget, as if that would double the
profit.” The film comments openly about repeating old formulas and the
perks—and imprudence—of working with a larger (but not unlimited) budget. It’s “always worse the second time around,” the
chief warns the two men, who are now given “carte blanche with the budget,
motherfuckers.” Operation headquarters is “twice as expensive” as the one in
the last movie “for no good reason.” About halfway through the film Jenko and
Schmidt will decimate a university sculpture garden and robotics lab, all the
while delivering a running commentary on how much money they’re wasting for no
discernible purpose.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnK5nJ1lKYfbZBrfntaydvRFcq0cMhnUD0ATVrTkRjk_sFIwZCUvTFTZEUlorI1WIUX2wtoa4uDEKTf8_jlCkXG33gFRsHyPdCuWyOnMfauq0pkyDZWLJA9mUUjSeWaY0QqL7YIq-g4H0R/s1600/buddy-main.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnK5nJ1lKYfbZBrfntaydvRFcq0cMhnUD0ATVrTkRjk_sFIwZCUvTFTZEUlorI1WIUX2wtoa4uDEKTf8_jlCkXG33gFRsHyPdCuWyOnMfauq0pkyDZWLJA9mUUjSeWaY0QqL7YIq-g4H0R/s1600/buddy-main.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The guiding comic principle here remains the appearance of ironic
detachment followed by an assertion of sincerity that’s as appealing as it is
disingenuous. But in the end, the film’s half-earnest acknowledgement that it’s
a tiresome sequel doesn’t save it from being a tiresome sequel. <i>22 Jump Street </i>is wholly part of the
status-quo that it’s railing against, indulging in the same clichés it skewers.
And hammering us over the head again and again with the admission can get
tiresome, too—I lost my patience right around the thirteenth time someone said
something about doing it just like the last time. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The <a href="http://mashable.com/2014/06/16/lets-talk-about-the-best-part-of-22-jump-street-when-its-over/">final
credits sequence</a> is sublime, a sardonic take on all possible sequels the
“Jump Team” could ever make (culinary school! flight school! beauty school! ninja
school! dance school—taglined “Pointe and Shoot”), complete with merchandise
and tie-ins. It almost convinces you that you’re in on the joke, but the joke’s
on you. It’s a delusion to think of Lord and Miller as anything other than oil,
rather than sand, in the gears of conglomerated entertainment production. The
self-amused references to the film’s status as franchise fodder are funny and
ridiculous, right? Funny enough to keep taking your moviegoing money for years
to come, so see you up the street at No. 23 soon.</span></span></div>
Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-86804341963038314152014-06-26T16:05:00.000-04:002014-06-29T11:17:59.049-04:00The Two Faces of January (2014)<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIGrrMKoGsdWDqFlQlKq7MFI9Gv4Daji__JMcC03JXESdm91P5RyzcMtCcTtiF4iuDC1UWI57F3DLOeXxJg5jNtq03u-2EhUIkE-LHt5iS9igLZa3JyEaw0053dwDTiB6wWDANMGZQVTyy/s1600/The+Two+Faces+of+january+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIGrrMKoGsdWDqFlQlKq7MFI9Gv4Daji__JMcC03JXESdm91P5RyzcMtCcTtiF4iuDC1UWI57F3DLOeXxJg5jNtq03u-2EhUIkE-LHt5iS9igLZa3JyEaw0053dwDTiB6wWDANMGZQVTyy/s1600/The+Two+Faces+of+january+1.jpg" height="416" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9AAsk0mEcMXKgTpsYeQ1-HUmfwKuo7szl72ccf97Kp0vHLlY8QxsHJ0WR_9Fq7mnZuCUTdew-WXmkjJZuJ717biKrSeF8VEdZgdWCkiuGwFl6wiq9QlHHCyvzEOs2VJNRDi039Q6xk_jN/s1600/3+Stars.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9AAsk0mEcMXKgTpsYeQ1-HUmfwKuo7szl72ccf97Kp0vHLlY8QxsHJ0WR_9Fq7mnZuCUTdew-WXmkjJZuJ717biKrSeF8VEdZgdWCkiuGwFl6wiq9QlHHCyvzEOs2VJNRDi039Q6xk_jN/s1600/3+Stars.jpg" height="71" width="200" /></a><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sY1TLgqfjvw" target="_blank"><i>Drive</i></a> screenwriter <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0024925/?ref_=nv_sr_1" target="_blank">Hossein Amini</a>’s <a href="http://www.complex.com/pop-culture/2013/02/greatest-directorial-debuts/" target="_blank">directorial debut</a> takes its title from the English derivation of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Janus" target="_blank">Janus</a>,
the two-faced Roman god who stands at the cusp of the new year, simultaneously
musing backward at recent lessons and experiences, and peering forward to the
murky and elusive future ahead, a guardian at the crossroads of the past and
present. The reference implies the twin forces of duplicity and shifting
circumstances that swirl in the fragrant atmosphere of <i>The Two Faces of January</i>, an old-school, sly, seductive Southern
Europe-set tale of moral compromise and misdirection. Based on the <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/books/booksblog/2014/apr/01/patricia-highsmith-readership-two-faces-of-january" target="_blank">Patricia Highsmith</a>
novel of the same name, Amini’s film has its own two faces; it’s at once an
involving character drama and a gripping suspense movie, a pleasurable period piece
of precision and class and a tight and tidy thriller as shrewd, sleek, and
scintillating as its characters.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEaNPBetR17tn5qAlNPXzHzEFWoVIq2rS3e2jrYLnEukNmU9mEjkLbqwI_qgi2ka7JzSPZjmKzPfqg3udftbBn2ClWHpmK3sWK_0cgcAl11STs9ER-yJ_-O_z-Lam-DMWwiALES8aYhBxw/s1600/HERO-MAGAZINE-WEEKEND-COMBO-VIRGO-MORTESSEN-BANK-HOLIDAY-BEER-AL-WEI-WEI-KIRSTEN-DUNSTMV5BMjA4NTY1MDg1OF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTgwNjY3NDc3MTE@._V1__SX1356_SY731_-820x545.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEaNPBetR17tn5qAlNPXzHzEFWoVIq2rS3e2jrYLnEukNmU9mEjkLbqwI_qgi2ka7JzSPZjmKzPfqg3udftbBn2ClWHpmK3sWK_0cgcAl11STs9ER-yJ_-O_z-Lam-DMWwiALES8aYhBxw/s1600/HERO-MAGAZINE-WEEKEND-COMBO-VIRGO-MORTESSEN-BANK-HOLIDAY-BEER-AL-WEI-WEI-KIRSTEN-DUNSTMV5BMjA4NTY1MDg1OF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTgwNjY3NDc3MTE@._V1__SX1356_SY731_-820x545.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The movie sets up and then subverts our expectations and judgments,
introducing two seemingly opposite Americans on the steps of the <a href="http://www.ancient-greece.org/architecture/parthenon.html" target="_blank">Parthenon</a>,
only to divulge that there is much more than meets the eye in either case. Rich
and relaxed, Chester MacFarland (Viggo Mortensen) radiates wealth and
sophistication. On a <span class="st">tour of the tourist </span>traps<span class="st"> of the </span>cradle of civilization, he and his much
younger, beautiful blonde wife Colette (Kirsten Dunst) look like prey to the
unscrupulous gaze of Rydal (<a href="http://www.awardscircuit.com/2014/06/23/oscar-isaac-strong-awards-year-ahead/" target="_blank">Oscar Isaac</a>), a young, highly educated American expat
with flawless Greek and a swarthy allure that allow him to pass for a local.
Both the language and the looks, along with a slippery charm, make it so he can
slither his way through small-time cons, skimming from giggling girls as he
exchanges their dollars for drachmas or exploiting young travelers’ faulty translation
skills to short-change them. We can only assume he’s just caught the
MacFarlands in his crosshairs for his next swindle.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Chester MacFarland, however, has his own haunting past, and when it
comes knocking at the door of his first-class hotel suite, he’ll have to drag
its unconscious body up the lushly carpeted hallways, where he is discovered by
Rydal, who helps him without fully realizing what he’s getting himself into.
Initially hired as their travel guide at Colette’s insistence, the young man quickly
becomes a scheming guardian angel to the couple and an only half-unwitting
accomplice to an assortment of illegal acts that grow increasingly darker and
deadlier as the movie progresses and the trio flees the authorities across
Greece with increasingly anxious acceleration. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC_S_B3vYFwL7yyXfrB39l6iVBq4oLKQLdbGtawJDy0PQmhDaND2HJDfz0o0XdgPAr7hsWYoXUyUqlb3eT1ru9hdayzWZnXSBiWMryFMeOW-bX8-iTqc16e7VAmNT1FMJv3Hflw-WxNT5h/s1600/3216487863_1_6_EJ4nnSbR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC_S_B3vYFwL7yyXfrB39l6iVBq4oLKQLdbGtawJDy0PQmhDaND2HJDfz0o0XdgPAr7hsWYoXUyUqlb3eT1ru9hdayzWZnXSBiWMryFMeOW-bX8-iTqc16e7VAmNT1FMJv3Hflw-WxNT5h/s1600/3216487863_1_6_EJ4nnSbR.jpg" height="224" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">It turns out Rydal’s deceptions and the greed that fuels them are much
more minor than Chester’s. Although he can wear the shit out of those cream
linen suits, the fashionable older gentleman doesn’t come from old money,
having climbed the social ladder by engaging in some seriously risky business,
as the wads of dishonestly earned cash in his suitcase will attest. While
Chester is capable of devastatingly, deadly amoral behavior as well as grand
redemptive gesture, Rydal is innocent of the crimes he’ll soon be accused of
but guilty of his own transgressions, not the least of which is his unending proclivity
to be swayed by dollars like a child by candy. <i>The Two Faces of January</i> is a tale of two <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/series/43329-ripley" target="_blank">Ripleys</a>, junior and
senior. As Chester points out, it’s only a matter of time before the younger
man will end up like him.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Amini nicely folds in the <a href="http://www.mythweb.com/encyc/entries/theseus.html" target="_blank">Theseus myth</a> and the tragic fate of his
father Aegeus in the opening scene, just before we learn of Rydal’s own
father’s death. As the plot literally and figuratively thickens, Rydal and
Chester will take turns as the myth’s Minotaur, at one point literally circling
around the maze at <a href="http://www.crete-kreta.com/myths-knossos" target="_blank">Knossos</a>. But there is also a deeper <a href="http://www.victorianweb.org/science/freud/" target="_blank">Freudian</a> connection in
which Chester, who reminds Rydal of his father, gives the young man a chance to
recreate and maybe repair his strained relationship with a disapproving dad, and Colette embodies a
forbidden <a href="http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/425451/Oedipus-complex" target="_blank">Oedipal</a> temptation. Just as the fugitives gravitate away from
civilization in the big cities towards the safer small towns, they move further
away from civility. The woman’s growing dependence on Rydal and her mounting
disillusionment with her husband bring out Chester’s ugly side. Drinking
heavily, jealous, mean, he is increasingly volatile and untrustworthy, and
Rydal, who initially strikes us as the more manipulative and sly of the two
grifters, can be surprisingly gallant, kind, and profoundly loyal.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRgJSNpT-Mo04eV0KHQ-w1BhIuE-0Z7ue7RXiqNVorSA-rIR1Nn6dKeJG90eGG7mO1yaF_PDugOkYzOiIi_zNgPzKIgubhwR8JaSlts5lNWcPbn9BH4Tl6u2JL0sohRj2g2lfIKaymjOyj/s1600/two-faces-of-january-mortensen-isaac-dunst-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRgJSNpT-Mo04eV0KHQ-w1BhIuE-0Z7ue7RXiqNVorSA-rIR1Nn6dKeJG90eGG7mO1yaF_PDugOkYzOiIi_zNgPzKIgubhwR8JaSlts5lNWcPbn9BH4Tl6u2JL0sohRj2g2lfIKaymjOyj/s1600/two-faces-of-january-mortensen-isaac-dunst-1.jpeg" height="224" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The push-pull of Chester and Rydal’s prickly partnership, a pact
between swindlers, gives the movie its pulse. The initial alpha-male sparring
through which each gets the measure of the other and presses for weak spots,
challenging one another’s wiles and values, often places Colette in the
crossfire. The woman’s own ambitions never come in quite as sharp a focus as
either of her male companions. But even though Amini emphasizes the bond
between the story’s men, Dunst’s performance is perfectly honed to a purpose,
managing to communicate depth beyond the subdued, stylish, sunny gorgeousness
of her character’s look. Like Gwyneth Paltrow’s character in <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0005237/?ref_=nv_sr_1" target="_blank">Anthony Minghella</a>’s acclaimed <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ylc5ToQoLg0" target="_blank"><i>The Talented Mr.Ripley</i></a>—if Marge had been in on the crimes—Colette is caught in the middle
of two men’s battle, increasingly unsure of whose side to take as their inevitably
spiraling fates intertwine in an ever-growing web of intrigue. It is this
three-way relationship of sultry sexual chemistry and its polarizing morals
that deliver the grit to crystalize the complex pieces of the jigsaw. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">One of the film’s and its lead actors’ most fascinating accomplishments
lies in the near-impossible feat of taking three deeply dishonest, damaged, and
generally unsympathetic individuals and making us care about them. As he did
with the disheveled, disreputable title character of the Coen brothers’ <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/2014/01/inside-llewyn-davis-2013.html" target="_blank"><i>Inside Llewyn Davis</i></a>, Isaac manages to
make Rydal appealing against all odds, while still maintaining a welcome air of
ambiguity. Mortensen is superb as a fraud whose façade crumbles but who retains
his craftiness even in despair, finding the nuances necessary to create a
layered portrayal of a smooth con man in psychological freefall, but one who is
never simplistic enough to lose all our sympathy. <span style="color: black;">The
scene on the ocean liner in which the two actors sit face to face but not a
word of dialogue is spoken is one of the film’s most unsettlingly powerful
moments.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj27-oirJt29NSLz6bqil1q_aEdWJbZPg41tpjbSy4ydfcQe-Md8RClmXCwvnpa7THmj3qtvErJ577GTd-6jhdoxj_c2G5AF_XsYfJoWrbJTI7antIMAd94kqqwtSGSFtTh3bOkSXCWmoKe/s1600/image-698314-galleryV9-btbd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj27-oirJt29NSLz6bqil1q_aEdWJbZPg41tpjbSy4ydfcQe-Md8RClmXCwvnpa7THmj3qtvErJ577GTd-6jhdoxj_c2G5AF_XsYfJoWrbJTI7antIMAd94kqqwtSGSFtTh3bOkSXCWmoKe/s1600/image-698314-galleryV9-btbd.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">But we can’t really talk about a cinema of sexual attraction and repression,
role reversal and parent issues without bringing up Hitchcock, whom Amini’s
period thriller emulates if not quite matches. The exotic, 1960s backgrounds
and a tense, surging score that takes its cues from <a href="http://www.bernardherrmann.org/" target="_blank">Bernard Herrman</a> overtly pay
homage to the Master of Suspense, while cinematographer <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0959128/?ref_=fn_al_nm_1" target="_blank">Marcel Zyskind</a> does
magical things with light and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Td0i0lgnEo4" target="_blank">location</a>, so there’s always somewhere to
look—somewhere that might not be where you’re supposed to.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">If there is any major problem with this sun-dappled exploration of life
on the lam and the fallibility of father figures, it comes in the final act. The
film<i> </i>has diligently laid the
groundwork for an exciting, unpredictable climax, but when it gets there the
ending seems oddly muted, missing a vital visceral credibility. We believe it
on an intellectual level, but emotionally it doesn’t leave much of an
impression.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>The Two Faces of January </i>might
be a tad less talented than Minghella’s 1999 Highsmith adaptation at finding
the perfect end note, but it excels at conveying some similar subtle, unspoken
tensions between characters. Amini’s golden-hued tour of sweltering Mediterranean
summer islands alongside this trio of beautiful, lying law-breakers is a gilded
guilty pleasure.</span></span></div>
Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-31994276040835382382014-06-19T11:27:00.000-04:002014-06-27T04:04:13.688-04:00Edge of Tomorrow (2014)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu6txtci9yFdmoXq9-AQMQ3bjacO27SYza2B50E6rtowYKC4WB7rtlAWFbbafufZUQRfhvFmQY5RSugGho-9wOY4BvzY2Yh9BoQwe6SfHf09kHaDRDgJ4B-teWQAV7OraT_VA9DaZUXEe0/s1600/EDGE-OF-TOMORROW-13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu6txtci9yFdmoXq9-AQMQ3bjacO27SYza2B50E6rtowYKC4WB7rtlAWFbbafufZUQRfhvFmQY5RSugGho-9wOY4BvzY2Yh9BoQwe6SfHf09kHaDRDgJ4B-teWQAV7OraT_VA9DaZUXEe0/s1600/EDGE-OF-TOMORROW-13.jpg" height="418" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDDw6dgO2Mbz2crHIgqZ9pjakpflOchJrOlxI9qLcjN7ECCtV4SiIxpIbummc_06-Nj4WQhkJsLMEYRmVNHZeGCIC_VLQhN50z-_B038K6l1S3XoeCjV5MZgfI-2Ten_Z_Sv3iQPX6_jqg/s1600/3.5+Stars.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDDw6dgO2Mbz2crHIgqZ9pjakpflOchJrOlxI9qLcjN7ECCtV4SiIxpIbummc_06-Nj4WQhkJsLMEYRmVNHZeGCIC_VLQhN50z-_B038K6l1S3XoeCjV5MZgfI-2Ten_Z_Sv3iQPX6_jqg/s1600/3.5+Stars.jpg" height="71" width="200" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Between the months of May—or, if we follow the ever-increasing trend of
<a href="http://thedissolve.com/features/exposition/613-the-summer-movie-season-is-dead/">cinematic
climate change,</a> much earlier than that—and August, I go through an
intensive exercise of willful suspension of expectations whenever I set foot in
a theater. Summer Movie Season, or better yet SUMMER MOVIE SEASON in all caps,
is easily dismissed as a period of shameless studio profiteering in which the
industry churns out dime-a-dozen spectacle films that cost a hell of a lot more
than a dime. They’re too big, too loud, too expensive, too reverent to the
altar of the lowest common denominator, too dependent on slick special effects
and not enough so on narrative and character. I bemoan how otherwise gifted
stars spend their estivate months squandering their talents in Hollywood products
addicted to and addled by computer-generated monsters, robots, and explosions.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Then, every once in a while, something like <i>Edge of Tomorrow </i>comes along, and my faith in the mainstream, commercial
American movie industry is renewed. I saw the film the Friday it came out. On
Sunday, I had a 13-hour trans-Atlantic flight to get through. My first priority
was not making sure I had a window seat, low-sodium meals on the plane, enough
time to switch terminals between connecting flights, or, you know, that my
passport was, indeed, in my bag. Between Friday and Sunday I was badgering
everyone I know in Europe not only to go see this movie, but to wait until I
got home on Monday and come see it with me. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Hands-down director <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0510731/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Doug Liman</a>’s best
and most purely pleasurable effort in the twelve years since <i>The Bourne Identity</i> (if not longer than
that), <i>Edge of Tomorrow</i> is less of a
time-travel movie than an experience movie. <a href="http://variety.com/2014/film/reviews/film-review-edge-of-tomorrow-1201184836/">One
review</a> called it “a cheeky little puzzle picture in expensive-looking
blockbuster drag.” It’s a stylish, cleverly crafted, and continually involving mind-
and clock-bending bit of action adventure that neither transcends nor redeems
the genre, but, thanks to a superb creative team and <a href="http://www.villagevoice.com/2014-05-28/film/tom-cruise-on-oprah/">star
Tom Cruise</a>, becomes a surprisingly satisfying exercise of that genre.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"></span></span></div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
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</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjysh2Vi2GsiT6hyG1nNRmg-WFPs3X3BUsd-FMWIoElw8r8RRNzaaHzz0FGTrS0MpmNA0RQ6hPv3g3iDeLGK_MZTdCTFQAskOvl2IXuGvid1QrsbjiDdJDYzSAtd5S4-OdCP0bGUBzmn_na/s1600/Edge-of-Tomorrow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjysh2Vi2GsiT6hyG1nNRmg-WFPs3X3BUsd-FMWIoElw8r8RRNzaaHzz0FGTrS0MpmNA0RQ6hPv3g3iDeLGK_MZTdCTFQAskOvl2IXuGvid1QrsbjiDdJDYzSAtd5S4-OdCP0bGUBzmn_na/s1600/Edge-of-Tomorrow.jpg" height="190" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Based on Hiroshi Sikurazaka’s 2004 illustrated novel “<a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1421527618?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creativeASIN=1421527618&linkCode=xm2&tag=thewaspos09-20">All
You Need Is Kill</a>,” the movie is brilliantly <a href="http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/movies/la-et-mn-ca-doug-liman-20140601-story.html#page=1">adapted
for the screen</a> by writers <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0003160/">Christopher
McQuarrie</a>, who knows his way around a mindfuck (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9MjV4EwR7Mg"><i>The Usual Suspects</i></a>), and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0125336/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Jez</a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm3890871/?ref_=nv_sr_2">John-Henry Butterworth</a>.
<i>Edge of Tomorrow</i> is a true science
fiction film, highly conceptual and narratively ambitious, set during the
aftermath of an alien invasion. It begins and ends as a gripping summer
blockbuster, with setpieces featuring the best special effects money can buy. But
the long, ingenious, and richly realized middle act sets it apart from and
above so much of the season’s outpour of generic studio products.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Synopsis is not our friend when summing up this movie. <i>Edge of Tomorrow</i> opens on a montage of
stock disaster footage—at which point I started having <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/2013/06/after-earth-2013.html"><i>After Earth</i></a>-induced PTSD flashbacks
that were, thankfully, unwarranted. The world is wrecked by war, its most
photogenic cities reduced to ash, its populace killed off by the millions. The alien
“Mimic scourge” has conquered most of Europe and quickly decimated human
defenses, owing to its seemingly preternatural ability to anticipate all
military forces’ next moves. If anyone was wondering, the Mimics are truly
terrifying, metallic spidery nightmare creatures that look like a cross between
dragons, octopi, and live wires, razor-tentacled squids that roll across the
landscape like tumbleweeds on crack and pierce like javelins.</span></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_zGwHHlEGzc_1wy8onYgWvZfOhDCZ_nAXv3LeR0egpFGRe1WH4MOEurUJacWxjAaAi-OAfmegSuFSh9L06o3S5BWFB6MtGC4oe4peav9hjHS6a-1d_E5uBswjwwkVX-Di9p4oljqbQ_5W/s1600/edge-of-tomorrow-5-600x400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_zGwHHlEGzc_1wy8onYgWvZfOhDCZ_nAXv3LeR0egpFGRe1WH4MOEurUJacWxjAaAi-OAfmegSuFSh9L06o3S5BWFB6MtGC4oe4peav9hjHS6a-1d_E5uBswjwwkVX-Di9p4oljqbQ_5W/s1600/edge-of-tomorrow-5-600x400.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The only semblance of hope and a propagandist’s wet dream, the last (and
only) victory against the Mimics was won by world-famous soldier and one-woman
fighting force Rita Vrataski (<a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/film/10841272/Emily-Blunt-interview-on-Tom-Cruise-her-new-baby-and-acting-mean.html">Emily
Blunt</a>), known as “The Angel of Verdun” for her heroics at that eponymous
alien battle—and, less flatteringly, as “Full Metal Bitch” for her brusque
personality.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Cruise, who’s been spending his fifties saving humanity, plays the aptly
named Major William Cage. The glorified Army PR rep had me at hello, but this
is a surprising choice for a hero. Cage is a figurehead, not a fighter, a wily
spin doctor but an acknowledged wimp. “I do <i>this</i>,”
he quips to his commanding officer, “to avoid doing <i>that</i>.”<i> </i>The character has
never seen a day of combat in his life and tries every trick to wriggle out of
being sent to the front by Gen. Brigham (Brendan Gleeson at his most hard-ass),
who’s asked him to join a platoon readying to invade France. Cage tries to talk
his way out of it. When talk fails, he tries extortion. Given the final order
in the general’s office, he raises his brow and breaks out in a small,
disbelieving smile before beginning a soft-shoe shuffle towards the door. The
song-and-dance makes you remember <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c32R8tFWCuA">how light Cruise used to be</a>,
gliding through roles on his affable megawatt grin as genuinely genial guys you
wanted to get to know. He’s become an action star—<a href="http://www.esquire.com/blogs/culture/tom-cruise-perfect-action-star"><i>the</i> action star</a>—and we started to
see his smile less and less, until, watching him lay it on Gleeson’s character
in the opening of <i>Edge of Tomorrow</i>, I
wondered, Where the hell has he been? </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDt8s6_NHk4LFiyJOY_NLdiw7QlAC7-OZHujg-RKETzrJ5Odqc9EeWvrac9wpz23HCaX71h7_9U5d0CLVCmSEAyym5Ey30v18Y_5KBEY4wOJtc1B6wZpShvozUCmA-SOvSoKlh7O8KcRU7/s1600/edge-of-tomorrow-2-600x400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDt8s6_NHk4LFiyJOY_NLdiw7QlAC7-OZHujg-RKETzrJ5Odqc9EeWvrac9wpz23HCaX71h7_9U5d0CLVCmSEAyym5Ey30v18Y_5KBEY4wOJtc1B6wZpShvozUCmA-SOvSoKlh7O8KcRU7/s1600/edge-of-tomorrow-2-600x400.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Despite the disarming grin, his character gets deposited none too
gently at Forward Operating Base Heathrow in London among trained soldiers
heavily armed and armored with giant exoskeletons. He’s never been in one of
these things before. Cage is stripped of his identity, turned into just another
grunt likely to be chewed up by the Mimics, then literally thrown into the
fray. He learns how to use his weapons in the field and even meets the military
goddess Rita, just before she dies.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">And then he dies.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Then he wakes up at Forward Operating Base Heathrow in London among
trained soldiers heavily armed and armored with giant exoskeletons. When asked
if he’s ever been in one of these things before, he says, “Maybe.” Cage is
stripped of his identity, turned into just another grunt likely to be chewed up
by the Mimics, then literally thrown into the fray. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Like “<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slaughterhouse-Five">Slaughterhouse
Five</a>” hero Billy Pilgrim, Cage has come unstuck in time, locked in a cycle
of eternal recurrence; he’s on seemingly endless repeat as the movie coils and folds
back on itself. The character wages the same battle until he can do it with his
eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back—in one instance, literally.
Practice has made him perfect, at least up until a point, allowing <a href="http://www.redcarpetnewstv.com/edge-of-tomorrow-doug-liman-interview/">Liman</a>
to rework the bedlam of the opening battle until it resembles a beautiful,
deadly dance.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha1S4wF9jGMRMRVE-vob8iE0UZmZpgO0MejYcoZIdHc2SQVZJIgj4cySdxIgHDh8fHCTObSVT_2xmIhQc1-lX54_Duavde4UZT_K7qRqJ5U_I-1MhAN_lUqLE_C7aBj-ORsUdncvgGI0qA/s1600/edge-of-tomorrow-392180l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha1S4wF9jGMRMRVE-vob8iE0UZmZpgO0MejYcoZIdHc2SQVZJIgj4cySdxIgHDh8fHCTObSVT_2xmIhQc1-lX54_Duavde4UZT_K7qRqJ5U_I-1MhAN_lUqLE_C7aBj-ORsUdncvgGI0qA/s1600/edge-of-tomorrow-392180l.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Cage makes for a demanding, complex role that changes constantly as the
story is told and retold and retold. The character starts out as a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lnrb8HnQvfU">Jerry-Maguire</a>-type
shallow, smooth-talking, cocksure manipulator who will say or do anything to
preserve his comfort. He undergoes a myriad of tiny transformations, deftly
navigated by the actor with a refreshing lack of vanity, until Cage exhibits
exceptional competence, dignity, and honor, and finally the steely-eyed,
day-saving <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gqocrvv26eo">grace under
pressure</a> the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Mission-Impossible-4-Movie-Ghost-Protocol/dp/B007V5AR64/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1403186743&sr=8-2&keywords=mission+impossible+collection"><i>Mission: Impossible</i> series</a> taught us
to expect. But that eventual awesomeness feels genuinely earned, rather than a
foregone conclusion. In short, the star does a 180 and makes it completely
believable—because who’s to say dying a few dozen times wouldn’t prove a
transformative experience for anyone—and the film becomes a striking (if
simplistic and sometimes downright silly) study in fate, human nature, and the
ability to grow and change. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I’ve always found Cruise likeable, sometimes even perfect in the right
roles, and age has only deepened him by bringing out a well-hidden
vulnerability. Someone should give him some sort of acting award just for the
sheer number of yelps, gasps, and barely cut-off curses he summons every time
he’s killed by a Mimic or shot in the head by Blunt’s character, who trains him
in a way that will make that scary guy that yells at you at the gym to keep
going seem like the sweetest human-sized teddy bear. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaeXz3VZhYMSmXIeRmH0d6VcQUp3i279jJbrkG6yNapOyuiI34SmrLp_9v-CcfRdTw43jZQFSzsr2l3ZLG37cj4A5uUcNzN1gDlvQBgeXt1n5rwJAsUTqMucaJaSfHyZ5hNqLUpv09mwKg/s1600/edge-of-tomorrow-emily-blunt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaeXz3VZhYMSmXIeRmH0d6VcQUp3i279jJbrkG6yNapOyuiI34SmrLp_9v-CcfRdTw43jZQFSzsr2l3ZLG37cj4A5uUcNzN1gDlvQBgeXt1n5rwJAsUTqMucaJaSfHyZ5hNqLUpv09mwKg/s1600/edge-of-tomorrow-emily-blunt.jpg" height="224" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Sure, the fatalities are fun because we know the day will just reset,
but it’s that moment of sheer, unadorned agony Cage goes through every time he
wakes up that my mind came back to after seeing the film a second time.
Startled and gasping for breath, he shakes of his fear and prepares for a
suicide mission every day of his life until he wins the war or goes utterly
mad. The poignancy of his plight is never far from the surface, however
frenetic the action. This is the rare action film whose quiet moments cut as
deep as its fight scenes, and even rarer, a summer shoot-’em-up that
understands the fragility of life.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Although this is Cruise’s movie through-and-through, the other
characters are given moments of humor, terror, or humanity. With a barely
discernible wink, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000200/?ref_=fn_al_nm_1">Bill
Paxton</a> plays Farell, a drawling drill sergeant with an amusingly sour sense
of humor. When Cage notes from his Southern accent that he’s obviously
American, Farell flawlessly barks back, “No, sir, I’m from Kentucky!” Blunt
invests Rita with grit and grace, not to mention she’s not too hard on the
eyes, as the oft repeated, fiercely beautiful downward-dogging cobra-like yoga
pose she’s introduced in will attest. The two leads get a morbidly funny, neo-<a href="http://www.greencine.com/static/primers/screwball.jsp">screwball</a> vibe
going as they bicker and banter amidst battling aliens or sidestep soldiers and
bullets in perfect synchronicity like a full metal version of <a href="http://uninvitedwriter.hubpages.com/hub/The-Films-of-Fred-Astaire-and-Ginger-Rogers">Fred
and Ginger</a>.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCnSZXzqq9tCmETqjZGbQI8z1gM6HAN-vxwGGxJ-nO9rtrigYhyphenhyphenq7dV4QbfWXvVNdg1AoxS4LAUWaZ8jJ-AVc1aKfmdOQf0tFu8_Io5kT3h2bFKLnsAN0c29NOVxl0az8lntNYn-7Fc_9S/s1600/edge-tomorrow-tom-cruise-reviews.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCnSZXzqq9tCmETqjZGbQI8z1gM6HAN-vxwGGxJ-nO9rtrigYhyphenhyphenq7dV4QbfWXvVNdg1AoxS4LAUWaZ8jJ-AVc1aKfmdOQf0tFu8_Io5kT3h2bFKLnsAN0c29NOVxl0az8lntNYn-7Fc_9S/s1600/edge-tomorrow-tom-cruise-reviews.jpg" height="165" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The elaborately choreographed tracking shots, long takes, and
unglamorous European hellscape bring to mind <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0190859/?ref_=fn_al_nm_1">Alfonso Cuaron</a>’s
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cBfsJ7K1VNk"><i>Children of Men</i></a>, but <i>Edge
of Tomorrow</i> can be best described as a cross between <a href="http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/groundhog_day/"><i>Groundhog Day</i></a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=68t6PhbYiSo"><i>Saving Private Ryan</i></a>, and <a href="http://www.supercartoons.net/character/12-1/wile-e-coyote.html">Wile E.
Coyote</a>’s worst morning ever. These references should give you an idea of
the way the movie<i> </i>mixes gravitas and
insouciance, at times popping with welcome, unexpected levity and wit, clever
one-liners, and the barrage of physical punishments and slapstick indignities
Cage undergoes.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">As engagingly light as <i>Edge of
Tomorrow</i> is on its feet, it balances that comic touch with impressively
staged, gritty, and gruesome battle sequences. The final act is almost swamped
by generic (if exceptionally well-done) pyrotechnics and noise, which is
predictable, given the high studio stakes and the industry’s faith in
spectacles of destruction. But the effects are at their most exciting and
convincing early in the film, in the vivid, visceral reimagining of chaotic
WWII combat as a high-tech aerial assault on <a href="http://www.army.mil/d-day/">Normandy</a>. In IMAX 3-D, you might get
vertigo and it’s gonna hurt when you hit that shore and get assaulted by
flaming shards of plane raining and creatures that dart, dodge, scuttle, snap,
swirl, lash, and lunge like a huge, hissing, summersaulting octopus from hell.
Make no mistake, this is a brutal, bone-crushing film that bravely pushes its PG-13
<a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/2014/03/censoring-cinema-hollywoods-production.html">rating</a>
almost beyond its breaking point.</span></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6x-Be9GV56CkrP7X0txkFYlzetafST1j0P6A7vrOn99_l6XEVxGZm-E6rO00zriiVdPj9ujpJcyh5pgqTD0yyVPu7dLuBn7DBmSrLB4GiJHriVTacWH9RCNPiitTzCiAUs_Y-BpRdXza7/s1600/edge-of-tomorrow-1-600x363.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6x-Be9GV56CkrP7X0txkFYlzetafST1j0P6A7vrOn99_l6XEVxGZm-E6rO00zriiVdPj9ujpJcyh5pgqTD0yyVPu7dLuBn7DBmSrLB4GiJHriVTacWH9RCNPiitTzCiAUs_Y-BpRdXza7/s1600/edge-of-tomorrow-1-600x363.jpg" height="192" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Aided by the crackerjack cutting prowess of editor <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1232695/?ref_=nv_sr_1">James Herbert</a>,
Liman skillfully conveys the endless repetition without making the film itself
repetitive. One of <i>Edge of Tomorrow</i>’s
most fascinating qualities is its intelligent, intuitive judgment of the
audience’s learning curve, reflected in flawless pacing. The movie slyly
teaches you how to watch it and then seems to track your progress before moving
on. At first it repeats whole scenes and bits of dialogue until you get used to
the idea, then expertly leaves things out because it knows they’re not
necessary, in a playful sort of narrative shorthand—if not sleigh-of-hand. By
the end, it’s tactically withholding information and letting us fill in the
gaps and figure it out for ourselves, repeating key images and lines only
because the familiar material has now changed its meaning. It’s as if on a
certain plane the film exists, like its main character, outside of linear time,
creating itself as you watch it.</span></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Edge of Tomorrow</i> will keep
you on edge.</span></span></div>
Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-22896576605373312602014-06-06T15:56:00.000-04:002014-06-27T04:04:48.496-04:00The Immigrant (2013)<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJpMbskgCyevUpmcGszHPRdtgxd72GrhQf1uyeWvVu4ylbiDbQbu2khy-0IiPN8jeU5QsKqisEdLvC4yT1CDCt9DPXnjec7lfPZTGL5XhgfSswezoejdiO1kk12GZG-oZRaT3KzFS17Juj/s1600/017_gray.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJpMbskgCyevUpmcGszHPRdtgxd72GrhQf1uyeWvVu4ylbiDbQbu2khy-0IiPN8jeU5QsKqisEdLvC4yT1CDCt9DPXnjec7lfPZTGL5XhgfSswezoejdiO1kk12GZG-oZRaT3KzFS17Juj/s1600/017_gray.jpg" height="424" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ8YIzVzdm7LBn9Y2niAi2zWMt9onjUfV8qN9q9Unr_oZ15olp1nRPHOk7F0yuZEYs94QhMiUYEJd-Z2PuDKkSOo3ie713GyD8Fn46Uq2JmoYM2F-XqljRVrf5KEOdz7_yO5FX4MsLdxzh/s1600/4+Stars.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ8YIzVzdm7LBn9Y2niAi2zWMt9onjUfV8qN9q9Unr_oZ15olp1nRPHOk7F0yuZEYs94QhMiUYEJd-Z2PuDKkSOo3ie713GyD8Fn46Uq2JmoYM2F-XqljRVrf5KEOdz7_yO5FX4MsLdxzh/s1600/4+Stars.jpg" height="71" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A great classicist, <a href="http://www.slantmagazine.com/features/article/interview-james-gray-2014">James
Gray</a> has often been called painterly, operatic, novelistic. It’s as if we
have forgotten what good cinema looks like, searching other media for a
comparison, assuming the heft and heart of art and literature is somehow
outside the movies’ grasp. Gray’s <i>The
Immigrant</i>, which premiered last year at Cannes and is just now hitting theaters,<i> </i>is a romantic tale that hides its monumental scale and subject in
plain sight, a subtle, soulful masterpiece that cuts to the very heart of the
American experience. Wrapping big themes in an intimate embrace, the film feels
both epic and personal. It not only reminds us of what film used to be, but also
of what it could be once again. A story of survival and redemption for the
characters, the movie surely accomplishes the same for a very specific,
straightforward kind of filmmaking that I haven’t seen in a very long time.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A mournful, mesmerizing meditation on the immigrant experience, the
movie opens on a slow zoom of the <a href="http://www.nps.gov/stli/historyculture/the-immigrants-statue.htm">Statue
of Liberty</a> shrouded in foggy mist, its back turned to the camera. From that
first moment, <i>The Immigrant</i> unfolds
in the foggy, misty gap between the promise the statue embodies and the harsh
realities newcomers encounter when that promise turns its back on them. Later
in the film, Lady Liberty will make a second appearance, this time as the main
character’s cabaret costume, a sad parody of the ideals represented by the
statue. The woman is asked why she came to America. “I want to be happy,” she
mouths gently, her voice breaking with infinite sorrow. In another show, a magician
levitates before the Ellis Island detainees, who are for the most part awaiting
deportation to their home lands, assuring them that anything is possible if
they believe—“The American Dream is waiting for you,” he says at the end of the
act. How appropriate that the pep talk comes in the middle of a con act.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"></span></span></div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlEA8-dMSzIwUq-hUVCmSWjHc5m-Xum5rnw-zIEin4U7V80v50C7U2iiwou5-HDmP-kPUhBGNvutFVvBqI7JBESFF8fOng7TMaxyDyHT1AFVZcyFxO9hqoX9oV5EJkL2-bV4TWnYeDXxPi/s1600/IMMIGRANT-superJumbo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlEA8-dMSzIwUq-hUVCmSWjHc5m-Xum5rnw-zIEin4U7V80v50C7U2iiwou5-HDmP-kPUhBGNvutFVvBqI7JBESFF8fOng7TMaxyDyHT1AFVZcyFxO9hqoX9oV5EJkL2-bV4TWnYeDXxPi/s1600/IMMIGRANT-superJumbo.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">For the few who make it to the mainland, <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/#uds-search-results">the American Dream</a>
is replaced by poverty and prostitution. Dressed in exotic, eroticized national
costumes, they put on a show in the low-rent basement burlesque joints of the
Lower East Side—not far from the seedy Five Points neighborhood <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/#uds-search-results">Martin Scorsese</a>’s
<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UYsS_3zdwmA">Gangs of New York</a></i>
was set in a few decades earlier—turning tricks on the side. When they fall on
hard(er) times, they put on boas and headbands and ply their trade in Central
Park, parading around as the fallen daughters of the city’s richest men. Pimp,
whore, and john alike are in on the joke. The American Dream of upward mobility
becomes a salable sex fantasy, the cornerstones of a national myth eroded by
ambivalence and irony.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Ewa Cybulska (<a href="http://marion-cotillard.org/">Marion Cotillard</a>)
and her sister Magda (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1494168/">Angela
Sarafyan</a>) have escaped war and crossed the Atlantic only to be turned away
at the front stoop of their destination. Not much has changed since <a href="https://archive.org/details/CC_1917_06_17_TheImmigrant">Chaplin’s own <i>The Immigrant</i></a>, made almost a century
ago, in which hopeful arrivals to the land of liberty were tagged and tied
together like cattle. Gray’s naturalization officers in 1921, one year after
the United States ratified <a href="http://www.history.com/topics/womens-history/the-fight-for-womens-suffrage">women’s
suffrage</a>, apparently didn’t take kindly to a woman entering the country
unescorted, especially one of low morals according to reports from the ship.
Along with Magda, who is showing signs of tuberculosis, Ewa is promptly branded
an undesirable.</span></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG_gQnptTj48ARzSw8RtyRlYnLwsWm3nmht9JhUaOSoxXCvg0F8Neh2r9gWScQKC62aMJSuO5pmy83GgM-9X0FlZVa4mZJLrzkRa3pCYUanU1mDG8wOM5n7wAdl_1vWm9du1pZamwjGQHi/s1600/Imigrantka-2013-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG_gQnptTj48ARzSw8RtyRlYnLwsWm3nmht9JhUaOSoxXCvg0F8Neh2r9gWScQKC62aMJSuO5pmy83GgM-9X0FlZVa4mZJLrzkRa3pCYUanU1mDG8wOM5n7wAdl_1vWm9du1pZamwjGQHi/s1600/Imigrantka-2013-7.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Enter the sharply dressed and well-connected immigration aid and
part-time pimp Bruno Weiss (<a href="http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/nightingale_2013/news/1928561/nyff_joaquin_phoenix_and_james_gray_talk_the_immigrant/">Joaquin
Phoenix</a>), who says he can talk to some people to get her to the mainland right
away and set her up with a place to stay until she can return for her sister. In
a lesser movie, Ewa would be naïve and Bruno would be charming. He would
deceive her into prostitution, and eventually she would understand that he
would never help her sister, concluding that the America Dream is nothing more
than a lie, a pimp’s come-on. But in Gray’s film, Ewa is not naïve and Bruno is
not charming. She knows exactly what she’s getting into, and sleeps with a
rosary at the top of her bed but a knife under her pillow just in case that
doesn’t work. She suffers, but she also steals and schemes. Bruno is awkward
and weak-willed. He regrets what he does for a living, but not enough to stop
doing it; he genuinely cares about Ewa, but not enough to stop exploiting her. </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Phoenix, who has starred in all but one of Gray’s films to date, gives
one of his best performances here, creating an anguished portrait of a man that
you can neither fully despise nor pity. The actor develops Bruno into a tragic
character of tremendous proportions although he is neither the protagonist of
the movie nor the main driving force behind its plot.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6a79PgNAsl8XiBFRH6B7HC5k2RIOobQC4x4QzkrzXY5A1H0BLi_yfZyBRW2NNS5MgtM6SPirkrOfDUyf30Z8KJWGH_cN7RmBVBfuimW6RuFyguI7bPWT6Gad1bywWgibBrSOeXNcpC8a_/s1600/www.indiewire.com.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6a79PgNAsl8XiBFRH6B7HC5k2RIOobQC4x4QzkrzXY5A1H0BLi_yfZyBRW2NNS5MgtM6SPirkrOfDUyf30Z8KJWGH_cN7RmBVBfuimW6RuFyguI7bPWT6Gad1bywWgibBrSOeXNcpC8a_/s1600/www.indiewire.com.jpg" height="224" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">At first unwelcome, Ewa strides into the New World with an explorer’s
spirit, turning a place where she’s not wanted into one that she can call home.
In her face, as the camera locks in on <a href="http://blogs.indiewire.com/theplaylist/watch-20-minute-marion-cotillard-james-gray-interview-on-charlie-rose-plus-new-photos-of-two-days-one-night-20140604">Cotillard</a>’s
eyes, capturing a mysterious, haunted quality buried in her gaze, <i>The Immigrant</i> finds the whole gamut of
human emotion. At once dignified, determined, and vulnerable, the actress
brings a refined, radiant intensity to the role of a woman whose job it is to
give her body to men but never actually gives anything of herself away. Gray’s
long, uninterrupted closeups brim with emotional power and intimacy as he
chronicles the heartbreaks and small triumphs of three of the most fully
developed characters in contemporary American cinema.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH4tTSMio8eDXjvwIlQViw1wWiXMSvkivbnYEBFa3lFSCxG2iZ5I-PgONI-v3h0NYU13aLpjp4lBkd_JZkOVB4SOxw8i0EkoJ_rl3b9fDov4UhyphenhyphenRKoZvrJLEH0FroeCx83GOm2sOQq7N7q/s1600/the-immigrant-11.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH4tTSMio8eDXjvwIlQViw1wWiXMSvkivbnYEBFa3lFSCxG2iZ5I-PgONI-v3h0NYU13aLpjp4lBkd_JZkOVB4SOxw8i0EkoJ_rl3b9fDov4UhyphenhyphenRKoZvrJLEH0FroeCx83GOm2sOQq7N7q/s1600/the-immigrant-11.jpeg" height="224" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">As the third corner of a would-be love triangle, an <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=icnTOapvH_M">immensely charming</a>,
uncharacteristically lighthearted <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/#uds-search-results">Jeremy Renner</a>
plays Emil, an alcoholic, impulsive illusionist who calls himself Orlando the
Magician and wants to take Ewa away from New York and make an honest woman out
of her, as it were. The tragedy is that what Emil is offering is no more than
one step removed from her current occupation; as a magician’s assistant, Ewa
would only be selling a different kind of illusion. She doesn’t love either
man, and neither one loves her, exactly. It’s the idea she presents and the
opportunity for redemption that they are really after, pursuing it as hungrily
as the immigrants coming off the boat want their American Dream.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>The Immigrant </i>is, however,
not all broken promises and crushing reversals. In a vital scene that takes
place in the confessional of a Catholic church, Ewa seems convinced of her
damnation, but however low her behavior might have sunk, her moral center
remains pure, and there is hope for her. The message translates to the other
characters as well, and the film is, in the end, triumphantly, defiantly
hopeful. </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Gray’s art lies not only in his uncanny ability to convey the unspoken,
or in investing it with utmost importance, but in making it observable and
unambiguous—something felt rather than suggested. The film’s script, by Gray
and the late <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0579453/?ref_=fn_al_nm_1">Richard
Menello</a>, is dense with profoundly layered correlations between illusion and
reality, the artifice of magic and the struggle beneath the surface. But <i>The Immigrant</i> is not about the deception
and delusion of the American Dream, but about two souls pushing past doubt and
abuse towards a deeper understanding of their own selves and the world around
them. Crude manipulation sits side by side with exquisite subtlety; tawdriness
is all mixed up with beauty, meanness with tenderness. </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL_wn1EjltU8kOJoQ7m5dUW3aGJLMRWcm58S4_4cIfk0zxzzZmHmEX1_ABq8if-rmwMTgRW0uSPhWyAlrzi_Z7eLNBqccB3N-OYxX6Ks4PMXXg3-TfRSAzRG16I_Fw9TV2nqd63QVjKA1y/s1600/immagine_c-era-una-volta-a-new-york_43397.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL_wn1EjltU8kOJoQ7m5dUW3aGJLMRWcm58S4_4cIfk0zxzzZmHmEX1_ABq8if-rmwMTgRW0uSPhWyAlrzi_Z7eLNBqccB3N-OYxX6Ks4PMXXg3-TfRSAzRG16I_Fw9TV2nqd63QVjKA1y/s1600/immagine_c-era-una-volta-a-new-york_43397.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">On the surface, the film is a standard, lurid fable of feminine self-sacrifice,
wronged innocence, irrational cruelty, and wild coincidence set in a landscape
of betrayal, brutality, and corruption. But the director works his way under
this surface, under the skin and into the soul of his characters, who are as
changeable and unpredictable as their surroundings. He builds his movie from
the characters outward, circling in ever increasing circumference to encompass
larger themes, forces, and universal factors of the human experience at the
same time he deepens our understanding of Ewa, Bruno, and Emil. <i>The Immigrant</i> derives its considerable
thematic heft directly from their actions and emotions, and from the
relationships the movie establishes and maintains with them. Gray’s film has
many impeccable moments and many powerful ones, none more so than its wordless last
image, following an almost feral scene of despair and self-loathing, in which
the director achieves a lyrical, lingering visual balance between Ewa and Bruno
that they could never achieve with each other.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">All glowing gold and gray, filled with dark colors and chiaroscuro
displays of light and shadow, <i>The Immigrant</i>
offers a vivid tableau of early twenties New York made of bustling streets, dingy
alleyways, cramped tenements with peeling wallpaper, and the chilly and
chilling processing center and holding quarters of Ellis Island, hallow halls
of dreams where so many fates where decided. This world seems so lived-in and
felt-through, every space shaped by comings and goings and accumulated
experience, it registers not as a set, but a real place with smells and
temperatures that you can almost feel. </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwXrDgM-BzGJnxVme4CXQRuQQu5PUqG2DV67MJhNJg8oSH4uFw-dTDWhaaAVZMNQ3PkCtYzGDFEmX8bvYlNHtXWZQ7h_eBkME7biyp0_c0-VfeQZBEX3O7BJzMqOs5cQg_kek7LWe45FHl/s1600/the-immigrant-james-gray-580.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwXrDgM-BzGJnxVme4CXQRuQQu5PUqG2DV67MJhNJg8oSH4uFw-dTDWhaaAVZMNQ3PkCtYzGDFEmX8bvYlNHtXWZQ7h_eBkME7biyp0_c0-VfeQZBEX3O7BJzMqOs5cQg_kek7LWe45FHl/s1600/the-immigrant-james-gray-580.jpg" height="215" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">At times the movie<i> </i>looks like
a lost artefact of the vanished era it so brilliantly depicts, daguerreotypes
come to painfully sober and stubborn life and allowed to move, feel, and think
once more. Gray’s meticulously researched sets are sometimes framed as old
photographs, shot by cinematographer <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0451787/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Darius Khondji</a> in a
soft-focused, gorgeously grainy palette. The images look like <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0932336/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Gordon Willis</a> crossed
with <a href="http://www.loyno.edu/~kchopin/Art.htm">late nineteenth century
painting</a>, <a href="http://www.spaghetti-western.net/index.php/The_Spaghetti_Westerns_of_Sergio_Leone">Sergio
Leone</a>’s <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mzhX2PD6Srw">Once Upon in America</a></i>
meets silent film. Its ambitions are spelled out in Chris Spelman’s soulful
score, which has the gall and grace to weave Wagner and Puccini in with
tasteful original themes almost imperceptively. In its structure, <i>The Immigrant</i> resembles the highly
dramatic women’s stories that <a href="http://www.tcm.com/tcmdb/person/40864|83574/Joan-Crawford/">Joan Crawford</a>
characters suffered through, usually at the hands of unreliable men, only to
emerge stronger if not unscathed.<i> </i>But
perhaps the film’s closest cinematic kin are <a href="http://www.filmref.com/directors/dirpages/rossellini.html">Roberto
Rossellini</a>’s <a href="http://www.criterion.com/boxsets/982-3-films-by-roberto-rossellini-starring-ingrid-bergman">collaborations
with Ingrid Bergman</a>. In its stripped-down realism yet breathtaking beauty
and its blistering fixation on the female character’s grappling with life and
death, <i>The Immigrant</i> is Gray’s <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Journey-Italy-Viaggo-Ingrid-Bergman/dp/B0050GCIHM">Voyage
to Italy</a></i>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Rich, raw, and beautifully rendered—although it sometimes dips into
melodrama—the movie has a depth, delicacy, and purity of feeling that make
other films seem small by comparison. It unfolds at a pace that will challenge
today’s attention-deficit audiences, but movies like it, timeless movies that need
time to seep into your system and reward viewer involvement were never made for
short attention spans.</span></span></div>
Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-57512056167199364822014-05-30T22:06:00.000-04:002014-06-05T19:50:04.285-04:00X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014)<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxVLV5rtXsdCzEutyGljYGngl6gvEEtB6bM-x1xSErPusru-TvrYtxZDeniuw-8RpkijOmMzyF5XxYYCGhIaUh3mv361VtASX5uX2drA_DNRxVLLotRdVqfD0OtPvw5gvhG5Au4WutCavX/s1600/3.5+Stars.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxVLV5rtXsdCzEutyGljYGngl6gvEEtB6bM-x1xSErPusru-TvrYtxZDeniuw-8RpkijOmMzyF5XxYYCGhIaUh3mv361VtASX5uX2drA_DNRxVLLotRdVqfD0OtPvw5gvhG5Au4WutCavX/s1600/3.5+Stars.jpg" height="71" width="200" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Three years ago, <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/2013/08/kick-ass-2-2013.html"><i>Kick-Ass</i></a> director <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0891216/?ref_=nv_sr_3">Matthew Vaughn</a>
reinvigorated the Marvel franchise with the clever historical revisionism of 2011’s
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=frcCCHb9LHc"><i>X-Men: First Class</i></a>, which boasted a superb new cast, cool retro
style, globetrotting intrigue, and a refreshing emphasis on character. <a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/adambvary/x-men-days-of-future-past-bryan-singer-box-office">Bryan
Singer</a>, the series’ original creator on board as director for the first
time since 2003’s <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QotW3n9P3N4"><i>X2: X-Men United</i></a>, confidently carries
that same momentum, combining the gravitas of the early films with the
playfulness of Vaughn’s follow-up. Making for exceptional pacing and relentless
drive, Singer pulls together an ambitious, suspenseful film and secures a
future for the franchise at the same time he continues to reinvent it.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The <i>X-Men</i> series has always
been somewhat unique among its kind because it wears its allegorical heart on
its sleeve. By chronicling the adventures of a despised minority, it pokes
around some interesting social and political issues. The theme of ostracized,
oppressed outsiders empowered to fight against their social stigma in ways both
good and evil runs throughout the seven films to date. The central conflict is the
endless moral argument between Professor X and Magneto, between the idea that
mutants should fight for the redemption of mankind and the insistence that they
should defend themselves by any means necessary. This time around, their
misunderstood humanity is amplified by extreme physical vulnerability, their
struggle framed by a genocidal battle in the near future.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Deadly, shape-shifting <a href="http://kotaku.com/x-men-days-of-future-pasts-sentinels-couldve-looked-ve-1583139515">Sentinels</a>,
designed to track and destroy the mutant X gene, have been set loose to descend
from coffin-like airships and exterminate an entire race along with any of its
human supporters. The only way to survive is to rewrite history and prevent the
Sentinels from ever being built. Professor X (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=olVJIk8WyzI">Patrick Stewart</a>),
Magneto (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sy0YyPZlDi0">Ian McKellan</a>),
Wolverine (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_5vdtJKtebI">Hugh Jackman</a>)
and Storm (Halle Berry, without much to do) hunker down in the rubble of a
monastery in China along with other faces, some familiar and <a href="http://au.ibtimes.com/articles/554186/20140530/xmen-days-future-past-mutants-characters.htm#.U4kELChKbdn">some
not</a>—among them <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1549063/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Fan
Bingbing</a>’s portal-punching beauty Blink, French actor <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1082477/">Omar Sy</a>’s Bishop, and the
opposites of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0039162/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Shawn
Ashmore</a>’s Iceman and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm3841486/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Adan Canto</a>’s
Sunspot. But it is perhaps Kitty Pryde (<a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/2013/09/jason-reitman-movie-maverick.html"><i>Juno</i></a>’s<i> </i><a href="http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/x-mens-ellen-page-life-701414">Ellen
Page</a>) who plays the most important (and most under-developed) role in the
story, using her consciousness transference powers to send Logan/Wolverine back
to the post-Vietnam Paris Peace Accord of 1973. Around this time, U.S. military
scientist Dr. Bolivar Trask (<i>Game of
Thrones</i>’ <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/05/15/peter-dinklage-x-men_n_5323829.html">Peter
Dinklage</a>) was developing the Sentinels program.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQXyhDsfYsJDXaYmE9O9i7cTbyOwF6j2EvY3pru7fvo_HfIjebCE42CKEtpirJOyRApmQVBr_Z5uZdmKH6WHq2ioWzz0XU5M9e6yPBRpl9L45jlo9DyBqlon_jGcEvA9qd-neFDysMJzNY/s1600/X-Men-Days-of-Future-Past-Magneto-Wolverine-and-Beast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQXyhDsfYsJDXaYmE9O9i7cTbyOwF6j2EvY3pru7fvo_HfIjebCE42CKEtpirJOyRApmQVBr_Z5uZdmKH6WHq2ioWzz0XU5M9e6yPBRpl9L45jlo9DyBqlon_jGcEvA9qd-neFDysMJzNY/s1600/X-Men-Days-of-Future-Past-Magneto-Wolverine-and-Beast.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Wolverine, because of his ability to heal, is the only one capable of
surviving the 50-year time jump, and the movie milks some humor out of having
the least diplomatic X-Man travel through time into his younger body, comically
woken up in a waterbed with a woman that should not be in his bed, staring at a
lava lamp and listening to Roberta Flack. Wolverine has to rouse the
younger, hipper version of Professor X, then known as Charles Xavier<b> </b>(<a href="http://www.hitfix.com/news/james-mcavoy-and-michael-fassbender-are-having-fun-with-x-men-days-of-future-past">James
McAvoy</a>)<b> </b>from a drug-addicted malaise enabled by Hank McCoy/Beast (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0396558/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Nicholas Hoult</a>)—“You
and I are going to be good friends,” Logan informs Hank just before punching
him in the face. “You just don’t know it yet.” With the same confidence, the
time-traveler proves persuasive enough to convince a reluctant Charles to join
forces with <a href="http://www.theverge.com/2013/12/5/5179746/magneto-gets-his-own-comic-series-in-run-up-to-x-men-days-of-future">Magneto</a>,
a.k.a Erik<b> </b><span class="st">Lehnsherr</span><b> </b><span class="st">(Michael Fassbender), to work together to stop the events that led to
the present (or technically future) mutant-killing hysteria.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Writer-producer <a href="http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2014/05/25/simon-kinberg-on-x-men-days-of-future-past-the-fantastic-four-reboot-and-black-superheroes.html">Simon
Kinberg’s time-bending screenplay</a> ponders whether time is immutable while
raising the possibility of infinite outcomes. More relevantly to the series, it
calls into question many events from the original three movies, providing a
blanket license to erase continuity lapses among the films and creating a
temporal loophole to usher in fresh developments moving forward. This is a
stealth reboot.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="st">The hopscotching back and forth through time might seem
rather confusing, especially when the past converges with a side story in which
a young, renegade </span><a href="http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/heat-vision/x-men-days-future-past-703095">Raven/Mistique</a><span class="st"> (Jennifer Lawrence) plans to kill Trask, without realizing his
assassination would only accelerate the mutant-extinction program. It’s not
confusing—if anything, I hoped Singer would make it a bit more challenging for
us to puzzle the pieces together. The smooth, carefully controlled transitions
between the</span> dark, brooding present and the softer, more colorful past
are superbly executed and easy to follow throughout. <span class="st">Cinematographer
</span><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0005875/">Newton Thomas Sigel</a><span class="st">, aided by editor (and composer) </span><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0653211/?ref_=ttfc_fc_cr12">John Ottman</a><span class="st">’s seamless cross-cutting, keeps the two periods markedly distinct in
tone and mood, and t</span>he decision to give certain public moments the
grainy, bright-colored look of ’70s newsreels adds a touch of immediacy to the
period stylization.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Jj7mVj23NKnpS1COA1GWWehUfthFHl7gyBcG-Iw8Yw8sndYwUCvz4DWYiP3J2FU_kk8iIXxQQE9lvn6ESAhz8wtJ6XiuWN7VgvF5__Af5-sGZ32_p5UylZhHzf1SXNCXF6sND6ru6Ubi/s1600/x-men-days-of-future-past-james-mcavoy-and-patrick-stewart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Jj7mVj23NKnpS1COA1GWWehUfthFHl7gyBcG-Iw8Yw8sndYwUCvz4DWYiP3J2FU_kk8iIXxQQE9lvn6ESAhz8wtJ6XiuWN7VgvF5__Af5-sGZ32_p5UylZhHzf1SXNCXF6sND6ru6Ubi/s1600/x-men-days-of-future-past-james-mcavoy-and-patrick-stewart.jpg" height="201" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In one of the film’s most emotionally—and logistically— rich scenes,
the <a href="http://screenrant.com/x-men-days-of-future-past-professor-x-bald-mcavoy-stewart/">past
and present Professor X</a> come face to face across the time-space continuum. Here
and in many other scenes, the film, devoid of either cynicism or
sentimentalism, touches deep chords of feeling with bracing emotional
directness. To balance out the pretentiousness a time-traveling plot can easily
be addled by, sly humor is crucial, keeping the film this side of strained
seriousness—or conversely, high camp—and Singer peppers his movie with knowing
winks to the series’ fans (as when Logan, now without a reinforced skeleton,
lets out a confused sigh of relief when passing through a metal detector).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCQSi7qINSflR8xfATI9cP1pNuaJ3Ad7oWLDJ_PHAfrTSdrhizof8Qpq-KkWbDQcEOnq2lfzaD2xVM-C8bV1QSV5iRt_Jg1Iex57Z4xYf35L2O2UNI6T5uugxKno8mIyE07DVqG3rJVUBS/s1600/Raven-in-X-Men-Days-of-Future-Past-700x425.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCQSi7qINSflR8xfATI9cP1pNuaJ3Ad7oWLDJ_PHAfrTSdrhizof8Qpq-KkWbDQcEOnq2lfzaD2xVM-C8bV1QSV5iRt_Jg1Iex57Z4xYf35L2O2UNI6T5uugxKno8mIyE07DVqG3rJVUBS/s1600/Raven-in-X-Men-Days-of-Future-Past-700x425.jpg" height="194" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">McAvoy and Fassbender make an electrifying duo, giving full force to
the complicated swirl of love, anger, kinship, and betrayal that binds the
characters and underscoring the more subtle notes of Stewart and McKellan’s
gentler exchanges. The standout performer in <a href="http://www.amazon.com/X-Men-First-Class-Digital-Blu-ray/dp/B004LWZW4C"><i>First Class</i></a>, Fassbender’s got
charisma to burn, but it’s Jackman and Lawrence who walk away with this movie.
Reprising the role of Logan/Wolverine for a <a href="http://screenrant.com/hugh-jackman-recasting-wolverine/">seventh time</a>
after last year’s <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/2013/08/the-wolverine-2013.html"><i>The Wolverine</i></a>, Jackman continues to
invest the character with nuance and depth that go beyond most superhero/sci-fi
action franchises, bringing the same powerful physicality, laconic, often gruff
humor, and only half-hidden grief that
carried his solo outing. As the shape-shifting Raven/Mystique, Lawrence makes
it hard to decide whether her slinky, reptilian mutant or seductive human form
is sexier by seamlessly stepping back and forth, while the character’s lifelong
friendship/romance with Charles and her complicated relationship to Erik add a
note of poignancy to balance out the computer-generated destruction.</span></span></div>
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</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Surprisingly—and refreshingly—said destruction is kept to a minimum,
which only heightens its impact. It might come as a strange and novel idea to
blockbuster-makers everywhere, but <i>not</i>
blowing up skyscrapers, <i>not</i> leveling
cities, and <i>not </i>threatening the
wholesale annihilation of the planet can be a hell of a lot more thrilling if
done right, using action to define character and explore psychological depth. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSa_f1_Dw4Z0UZ3voZh3_5q3dcUfobzOHux2RhDPRLpgiyA7X8InNJ713FYuJatkL52hMx1M4u_WU6X_8viKQ7IF8DzMQuEv3EmN1fG0QDQkUkDbAK8nS4g1L8QOjBYQFyk-bBhddK-TNI/s1600/di-nhan-toc-do-cua-x-men-tro-tai-leo-tuong-sieu-nhanh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSa_f1_Dw4Z0UZ3voZh3_5q3dcUfobzOHux2RhDPRLpgiyA7X8InNJ713FYuJatkL52hMx1M4u_WU6X_8viKQ7IF8DzMQuEv3EmN1fG0QDQkUkDbAK8nS4g1L8QOjBYQFyk-bBhddK-TNI/s1600/di-nhan-toc-do-cua-x-men-tro-tai-leo-tuong-sieu-nhanh.jpg" height="160" width="320" /></a>Which is not to say <i>Days of
Future Past</i> skimps on the special effects; the film is filled with
showstopping action sequences, including one in which an angry Magneto lifts a
sports stadium and plops it down on the White House lawn. But the best set
piece in the movie comes early, when Wolverine and Charles need to spring
Magneto from lockdown—he has been <a href="http://www.thebentbullet.com/#!/home">blamed
for the Kennedy assassination</a>. This perfectly staged, <a href="https://www.yahoo.com/movies/how-quicksilvers-standout-scene-in-x-men-days-of-87308240107.html">standout
sequence</a> features the film’s most exciting new addition, the silver-haired,
Pink-Floyd-T-shirt-wearing, mischievous Peter (Evan Peters), graduating from
petty theft to breaking into the most secure building on the planet. In
intricate, freeze-frame ballet slapstick, the mutant who will become
Quicksilver uses his super-speed skills running around the walls in the kitchen
of the Pentagon, changing the trajectory of bullets by hand, and taking the
time to mess with the guards suspended in slow motion to the whimsical notes of
Jim Croce’s “Time in a Bottle.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A spectacle film that’s also intimately scaled, <i>Days of Future Past</i> is a superhero movie for people who like
superhero movies <i>and</i> for those who
don’t. It’s a rousing adventure that’s far more thematically and dramatically
demanding than the average popcorn summer fare, an action epic of mind and
heart.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Note: The visual effects and CGI work are impeccable throughout, but
the image gets dark enough in 2D—which is how I saw the film—to make me doubt
the choice of a post-conversion third dimension. IMAX without the 3D seems like
the best option. And sit tight through the end credits.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Please click <a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.com/2013/08/the-wolverine-2013.html" target="_blank">here</a> to read my review of <i>The Wolverine.</i> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span>Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7061786416299300439.post-87031254272675216062014-05-21T20:06:00.000-04:002014-08-15T04:16:44.736-04:00Nebraska (2013): One for the Money, Two for the Road<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">After making side trips to California’s Central Coast and
Hawaii for Sideways (2004) and The Descendants (2011), Alexander Payne takes to
the road yet again, this time in his home state, for Nebraska (2013), a wistful
ode to small-town Midwestern life and the quixotic dreams of stubborn old men.
Payne’s prairie-based old-age odyssey begins, appropriately, on a busy
stretch of highway. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A small, solitary figure shuffles along the side of the snow-fringed
road, stooped and scowling in the wind. His determined trudging is interrupted
by a police officer, who asks where he’s coming from and where he’s headed.
Wordlessly, the old man points back and then forward. This is a man who, like
his surroundings, seems to have outlived his usefulness; he has that
self-involvement the way someone does when he’s staring death in the face, bobbing
and weaving along that highway to avoid his inevitable mortality. His journey is
a last, valedictory gesture designed to give meaning to a life. He seems
confused, but there’s a heartbreaking purity, a blankness to him, as well as a
hunger and a ferocity, that feel terrifyingly real. Without saying a word, he
has hit upon a deep and eloquent truth: like the character, that’s all we
really know in life—that we came from back there and we’re going forward on the
road, regardless of where it might lead, because we have no idea what the end
destination is or where we’ll end up anyway. </span></span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://onemovieblog.blogspot.ro/2014/08/the-middle-of-road-alexander-paynes.html"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">NEW: PAYNE'S <i>About Schmidt</i>, <i>Sideways</i>, <i>The Descendants </i></span></span>Analysis HERE</a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In surprising ways, his odyssey resembles those of Dave Eggers’ <i>You Shall Know Our Velocity</i>, DBC
Pierre’s <i>Vernon God Little</i>, Richard
Linklater’s <i>Before Sunrise</i> (1995) and
Walter Salles’ <i>Motorcycle Diaries</i>
(2004). The protagonists of these works are all younger than Payne’s character;
they have had different life experiences; they travel different lands. But,
through each of their journeys, they seek the same meaningfulness, defining
their own identities in relation to others and to their environments, looking
for a place they belong, and trying to establish a human connection.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">None of them seem to need a connection more than Payne’s Woody Grant. A
taciturn grouch with a lifelong commitment to drinking and an oft-stated desire
to be left alone, Woody is as clueless as he is cantankerous. Not only has he
convinced himself he’s won a million dollars after receiving a sweepstakes
letter the kind which most people customarily throw in the trash, but he
insists on collecting his winning personally by making the 800-odd-mile trek from
his home in Billings, Montana, to the prize office in Lincoln Nebraska—by
himself, on foot, if needed. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">His son David (Will Forte) is a single and struggling stereo equipment salesman who
trudges along in work and in life. He and his father aren’t terribly close
because Woody isn’t terribly close to anyone; family is merely the expected
phenomenon that just sort of formed around him at some point. Conceding that “the
guy just needs something to live for,” the beleaguered David takes off work and
sets off in his Subaru, a deputy fool on a fool’s errand, a weary Sancho to the
old man’s Quixote. The son undertakes the drive as much out of pity as to
escape his own broken down situation and maybe even more so for the personal
time it will give them. Payne hews to the classic buddy road-picture, with the
mismatched Woody and David setting forth on a journey of mishaps, chance
encounters, hilarious complications and, of course, some long-overdue
father-son bonding. But thanks to screenwriter Bob Nelson’s lean, tone-perfect
script and Payne’s tender execution, <i>Nebraska</i>
never feels patronizing or facile.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Like the young characters of <i>The
Motorcycle Diaries</i>, Woody and David begin their journey partly because they
are in need of a change, making an effort to leave behind a “wretched” and uninspiring
life. A sequence in the car<span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white; color: black;"> shows
them entering South Dakota and passing a “Run With the Pack” sign on the
highway. Then a motorcycle gang passes them—that fundamental image of outlaw
freedom and non-conformity to the mainstream. And in a way, Woody and his son
are like that. They don’t run with the pack; they do their own thing (which no
one else in the film agrees with), but they have their own (two-person) pack,
their own family and community like the bikers</span>. The image immediately calls
to mind Salles’ movie, in which Che and Alberto similarly go against the norm,
traveling up the ragged spine of the American continent on their broken-down
bike, “The Mighty One.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">“We look like outlaws,” Guevara wrote in his diary, “commanding
attention wherever we go,” and the same can be said about Payne’s father-son
duo. The two pairs of travelers arrive at destinations markedly different than
what they had expected. For Che and Alberto, the trip means a chance to
“encounter new lands, hear new anthems, eat new fruits,” all capped off by
their end destination, where they will be treated to “bellies full of wine and
two tropical beauties.” In reality, their journey will have nothing to do with
these material, typical tourist attractions, just as Woody’s journey will
ultimately never lead to a million dollars.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In <i>You Shall Know Our Velocity</i>,
the characters embark on their quest for the exact opposite reason than Woody.
Whereas the film’s protagonist is out to collect his winnings, Will and Hand journey
in order to get rid of unwanted money. The novel’s narrator feels that he has
not earned and does not deserve the money he has been given and travels the
world in order to give it, bit by bit, to whomever he finds most deserving.
This sacrifice of funds, is explained, is for the benefit of both parties, as a
sacrament with the purpose of restoring a faith in humanity. Woody, too, we
find out in the second half, plans to give his money away after he has
collected; besides a slice of dignity—and maybe a new truck that would
alleviate the rage at the disempowerment and un-American humiliation of having
to walk everywhere—his quixotic quest for the prize is mostly so he has
something to leave to his children when he dies. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The sweepstakes letter he carries everywhere strangely resembles the
treasure map Will and Hand make in Pärnu, Estonia. Like the letter, the map bears
signs of inauthenticity—to put it lightly. Will says he wanted it to look
weathered, mysterious, and ancient; the characters draw it in ball-point pen on
graph paper, then burn the edges. But the purpose of the map in the novel and
Woody’s letter in <i>Nebraska </i>is the
same. For neither work does the end result limit itself to financial winnings
or material possession. It is the sense of hope implied in the search for treasure
that Eggers and Payne explore: “This would have sent my childhood in an
entirely different direction,” Will writes. “… it would be so expanding, would
open their minds to such possibilities—this act alone could keep a child—and his
or her friends, and theirs—from the grey low-slung sky of adolescence; whenever
they would feel that they’d seen everything, or, conversely, that the
extraordinary was not possible—and how funny that those two things,
diametrically opposed, are always both found in the jaded brain—whenever that
happened they’d remember the treasure, the Moroccans on the run, the fact that
they’d found the money here, in this ragged forest by the tracks on the edge of
their tiny town…” (286). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The money, for Woody, is also a form of protection, from the grey
low-slung sky of old-age instead of adolescence. As both David and Woody’s
long-suffering wife Kate (a scene-stealing June Squibb), a foul-mouthed voice of reason, observe, it’s not
like there’s anything Woody could really do with a million dollars at this
point. He says he wants a new pickup truck, even though his driver’s license
has been revoked. His obsession with the money is at least partly a desperate
wish to assert himself and give meaning to his life by expanding his sphere of
possibilities—not that he had many possibilities to begin with, at least not in
the small hamlet of Hawthorne, Nebraska. Although the tiny town is fictitious,
the sense of place that Payne creates is unshakeable. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Shot in bleak black-and-white by the director’s frequent cinematographer
Phedon Papamichael, <i>Nebraska</i> is
neither ostentatious nor overly gritty, just forthright and elegantly composed,
at times calling to mind the still photography of Walker Evans and Dorothea
Lange. The handsome monochromatic cinematography gives a wintry plainness to
the landscape and that roadside Americana that Payne loves to point out in long
traveling shots of slate-colored skies hanging over pastureland and lonely
blacktop, last-stop diners standing on the edge of nowhere, the windswept vistas
of a vital agro-industrial heartland outsourced into irrelevance. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Although the international landscapes of Jesse and Celine in <i>Before Sunrise</i>, Che and Alberto in <i>The Motorcycle Diaries</i>, Vernon in <i>Vernon God Little</i>, and Will and Hand in <i>You Shall Know Our Velocity</i> are
decidedly more glamorous or exotic, in Eggers’ novel the view from the car
window in Estonia is hardly different than the sights Woody and David
encounter. The specificity of one destination is universalized, making it clear
that after a certain point any locales merge into the same dreary landscape:
“The ground was white and the tree line was low,” Will writes. “Estonia could
look like Nebraska and Nebraska like Kansas. Kansas like Morocco. Morocco like
Alres. On and on. Growing up I thought all countries looked, were required to
look, completely different…. But every country now seemed to offer a little of
every other country, and every given landscape… existed somewhere in the US”
(255).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Payne’s black-and-white is emotionally apt for a film that centers on a
man and his son revisiting the past. The widescreen cinematography—which calls
to mind Westerns of the fifties and sixties—is more unexpected. The director
has explained that he wants his art to have verisimilitude but also to transform
experience instead of being an exact duplicate; he wants his audience to see
the Midwest as close to reality as they can while still seeing it in a new way.
There are Western-worthy, epic shots in <i>Nebraska</i>
of drifting, sun-gilded clouds above the Black Hills, but its strongest images
are quotidian: an abandoned farm in a stubbly field, the bald back yard of a
peeling clapboard house. There’s a forlorn shot of a reader board that Payne
and his crew found in Plainview: “SEE US FO YOUR HOME LOAN.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Like Jesse’s television show idea in <i>Before Sunrise</i>, to capture life as it’s lived, twenty-four hours a
day, <i>Nebraska</i> is made up of what
Celine calls “all those mundane, boring things everybody has to do every day of
their fucking life.” I, however, prefer Jesse’s description. “the poetry of
everyday life,” because there is something truly lyrical in the simplicity and
honesty of Payne’s depiction of character and place. And only someone with
intimate knowledge of the small town’s singular cadences, social codes and
confounding emotional stew of aggression and politesse could pull off something
as masterful, meaningful and poetic as <i>Nebraska</i>.
Some of the details the director dwells on recall passages from Vernon’s portrayal
of Martirio, Texas, in Pierre’s novel, if only through their honesty and
perceptiveness. The description of Crockett Park seems like only a slightly
more decrepit version of Hawthorne, where people beat up on each other and
clean their own carburetors. Closer to town, everything gets bottled up, “just
bottled the fuck up till it fucken explodes, so you spend the whole time
waiting to see who’s going to pop next. I guess a kind of smelly honesty is
what you find at Crockett’s. A smelly honesty, and clean carburetors” (95).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFaen9b8tsl50LiOC7Fg1wnb4xMRbp0kesEVf3kVWzkJsQV0wGhrmZNCvxtOTdT-AwiP4v8jxavsKVisUdH7jt-YoPIdg4nMZIugn-6w_WzcvJNhEmWSAfbMiIoykJZuYYY8ENJwaSQwL2/s1600/nebraska4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFaen9b8tsl50LiOC7Fg1wnb4xMRbp0kesEVf3kVWzkJsQV0wGhrmZNCvxtOTdT-AwiP4v8jxavsKVisUdH7jt-YoPIdg4nMZIugn-6w_WzcvJNhEmWSAfbMiIoykJZuYYY8ENJwaSQwL2/s1600/nebraska4.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a>As <i>Nebraska</i>’s father and son
wind their way through Wyoming and South Dakota towards Woody’s home town, the
movie blossoms into a study of provincial American absurdity. Payne, training
his keen eye on a part of American culture that, in terms of the popular
imagination, has been virtually hiding in plain sight, disposes of Red State
clichés, condescending superiority, and trite sentimentalism, instead bringing
rigorous, often goofily amusing insight to this portrayal of his home state.
Payne regards Woody and the folks he meets with some affectionate teasing, but
also with the no-nonsense clarity of a fellow Midwesterner. The interiors of
the characters’ middle-class homes are cluttered with schlocky
knick-knacks. Their clothes are utilitarian and unfashionable. They are
complacent at best and scheming at worst. You could interpret all this as
mockery, but also as a vivid perception of a region that shaped the filmmaker.
It often feels as though Payne is trying to strip away the cliché that the
region is populated exclusively by hardworking, decent hearted types. His
Midwest is full of complicated people marked by flaws and failures, mistakes
and regrets. The world he depicts is, not unlike that of Pierre’s <i>Vernon God Little</i>, a small-town America
that is fading, aging and on the verge of giving up, blighted by envy,
suspicion, and a general failure of good will.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Whereas the members of the community in Pierre’s novel are interested
only in their image and one-upping each other, without noticing any of the
larger forces and issues the title character sees with incredible clarity, the
inhabitants of Hawthorne are blinded by the promise of wealth, if they could
only mooch a bit off Woody; the smell of entirely imaginary money is enough to
render them all simultaneously pathetic and evil. It doesn’t take long for the
old man to become headline news, and, as soon word gets out that the returned
Montana prodigal is a newly minted millionaire, the smiles in the town grow
wider and more predatory. A few people seem genuinely happy for Woody, but
generally old acquaintances and relatives alike regard him with an uneasy mix
of pride, jealousy, and greed—portrayed in hilarious, madcap slapstick in a few
scenes involving a pair of oversized, oafish cousins. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The film’s view of human condition in the way the populace’s heads are
completely turned by the presence of celebrity almost exactly mirrors that of <i>Vernon God Little</i>, although the book
delves much deeper into exploring the media’s role in the lives of its
characters, the constant mention of movies and television shows demonstrating
the pervasiveness and power of the media to create our expectations and dreams.
In this environment, a guy like Lally, the main antagonist in the novel, is
seductive and powerful even if he is just a TV repairman, because people
believe he has the media behind him. “I have to learn how to turn slime into
legitimate business,” Vernon thinks, “the way it’s my right to do in this free
world. My obligation, almost, when you think about it. What I definitely
learned… is that everything hinges on the words you use. Doesn’t matter what
you do in life, you just have to wrap the thing in the right kind of words”
(135). Lally knows how to frame things, package and position them and then sell
them back to an unsuspecting audience of female admirers, not unlike the way Woody’s
former partner in an auto-repair shop and the kind of pal who makes enemies
redundant Ed Pegram (Stacy Keach), <i>Nebraska</i>’s
villain, tries to use Woody’s prize to his own advantage.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Woody himself doesn’t quite know what to make of his new-found fame,
but the few moments in which he seems genuinely happy are the diner scene when
he is cheered on by the town, and the film’s starkly beautiful final moments.
It is in these two instances that Woody is getting noticed by the people of the
small town, a need that has gone completely unfulfilled his entire life—most
sadly so when his own wife talks about him as if he’s not there. “A learning
grows in me like a tumor,” Vernon says in Pierre’s novel. “It’s about the way
different needy people find the quickest route to get some attention in their
miserable fucken lives. The fucken oozing nakedness, the despair of being such
a vulnerable egg-sac of a critter, like, a so-called human being, just sickens
me sometimes…. The Human Condition, Mom calls it. Watch out for that fucker”
(128-29). But try as they might, the characters of <i>Nebraska</i> can never escape their “human condition”; the nakedness
and despair hangs heavily over their lives, along with the daunting realization
that their existence has amounted to nothing. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The emptiness of Hawthorne itself, the loneliness of its shabby streets
and the feeling that there is nothing surrounding the weathered buildings, translates
itself to the inhabitants. Just as the community of Martirio tries to conceal
the meaninglessness of their lives and create some comfort with food and other
superficialities, to fill their pies with more cream, “stuffing emptiness into
[the void],” or make something as horribly funny as joy cakes after a mass
shooting, Woody’s former neighbors need him to win that money. Even after David
explains it’s all a big misunderstanding, they refuse to believe it because
Woody’s illusive image as a millionaire fits their own narrative better than
the truth. Kate, utterly uncensored in her running commentaries about long-ago
sexual shenanigans and anything else that has to do with her past, arrives in
town and instantly embarks on a colorful litany of complaints that sets the
record straight. The first words we hear her say to Woody are: “You dumb
cluck!” (The last, uttered with more tenderness, are “You big idiot”). A
formidable force despite her diminutive size, Kate talks about the old days
only in the most derogatory terms about her “useless” husband and just about
everyone else. Her blunt honesty balances both Woody’s sad illusions and the
smiling duplicity of almost every other character.</span></span></div>
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regret, always careful to avoid the maudlin or cheaply sentimental. When the
character reconnects with his family and friends, there is no tearful reunion.
Instead, we get an abrupt image of several of Woody’s relatives gathered around
a television to watch a football game. They are all old men in bland,
buttoned-down shirts, all facing the same direction, barely grunting small talk
at each other. This is a human still life of resignation, a tableau of eight
white guys sitting around talking about cars, never diverting their eyes from
the unseen television. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We’re treated to a number of conversations about how long it takes, or
might hypothetically take, to drive from Point A to Point B (a topic of endless
fascination to the American male) and about who used to drive what car and
when. There’s a wonderful back-and-forth about a ’78 Impala – unless it was a
’79 Buick – that ran forever until it stopped running. Apart from being
inimitably funny, the scene offers a group portrait of men who, whatever they
may be feeling inside, are utterly undisposed to talk about it, representing
one colossal failure to communicate that feels like a genetic male trait.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The one thing these men have in common is regret, a feeling Woody
understands only too well. Like the man Celine used to work for in <i>Before Sunrise</i>, these quiet Hawthorne
men might come to realize that they have given nothing of themselves to others.
Like Woody in the opening sequence, the other characters have come to a point
in their lives in which there’s certainly more to look at behind them than in
front along their life’s road, and they understand that they are nearing the
end of their days. The passage of time is merciless and unstoppable, as is the
threat of death that looms over old age. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">“The years shall run like rabbits,” Jesse quotes from D.H. Auden in
Linklater’s movie, “All the clocks in the city/ Began to whir, and chime./ Oh,
let not time deceive you/ You cannot conquer time./ In headaches and in worry/
Vaguely life leaks away./ And time will have its fancy/ Tomorrow or today.” The
poem is only one example, but the characters of <i>Before Sunrise </i>contemplate the idea of time and death almost
constantly, although they are both still very young. Jesse and Celine consider
their night together “time travel”; the people they encounter speak of reincarnation,
or of how human beings are merely stardust; the photo Jesse pretends to take in
the morning with an imaginary camera is an attempt to freeze the moment, to
stop time, but the trip to the cemetery makes it clear that only death can stop
time, as it did for Elisabeth, the little girl who died at thirteen and has
been that age ever since. But human figures are transitory, as “La voie ferre,”
the image Celine points to on the exhibition poster makes clear. In life, as in
the painting, the environments are stronger than the people because they are
lasting, remaining almost unchanged throughout time, although a strong sense of
a vanishing past holds sway over an illusory future in <i>Nebraska.</i><i><span style="font-style: normal;"></span></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhScpCFhUAS0Dg1j3FKrnFJn8TOcocMGaG9v2IUv_zOafbI6h-m3eajrpgEqC6Zb0jaZh3XR6ZMoSjFjREB6aP_pVhGz2LRcTZjooxHGxxUiLA2rtAgMKQEwKH_VZrEEN1fW41WX0VSTX3M/s1600/last-picture-showS.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhScpCFhUAS0Dg1j3FKrnFJn8TOcocMGaG9v2IUv_zOafbI6h-m3eajrpgEqC6Zb0jaZh3XR6ZMoSjFjREB6aP_pVhGz2LRcTZjooxHGxxUiLA2rtAgMKQEwKH_VZrEEN1fW41WX0VSTX3M/s1600/last-picture-showS.gif" height="172" width="320" /></a>Just as <i>The Last Picture Show</i>
was a movie made in the 1970s about the end of ’50s-era innocence, <i>Nebraska</i> feels, despite its present-day
setting, like a eulogy for a bygone America (and American cinema). The
emptied-out look of Hawthorne makes it resemble the town in <i>The Last Picture
Show,</i> but without the teenagers; there are only old people here, in the
saloons and the streets, and other key settings — the cemetery, the newspaper
office, the dilapidated farmhouse Woody grew up in and his father built —
quietly contribute to the feel of time and opportunity having passed by. The
closer the characters get to Lincoln, the more they appear to be receding into
the past, culminating in one magnificent sequence that equates a drive down a
small main street with the span of an entire life lived. In this light, Payne’s insistence on shooting in
black-and-white enriches the film artistically. The story is set in a world
that still, both in the cinematic and collective memory, exists in
black-and-white. It’s stuck, like the leading characters, with decisions made
decades ago and is still defined by the past and a diminishing number of
survivors. Like the native people Che encounters in Peru in <i>The Motorcycle Diaries</i>, the inhabitants
of Hawthorne are hanging on to a way of life that is quickly dying out; also
like them, they’re doing “not too bad, not too good, just okay.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_dEiAp68EAiiXO3LH2h9IaT1Cx4xAHiMAdkdU_tI-zj49JxNGls7-GO9vGP6x1w7uRwxPOphIPU4hoDi06PvCPYjrgn7pcMTI61Mjqr1pkSajhJs4WkqxNgFXDImbdXGcDQznOaDOKxMk/s1600/nebraska.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_dEiAp68EAiiXO3LH2h9IaT1Cx4xAHiMAdkdU_tI-zj49JxNGls7-GO9vGP6x1w7uRwxPOphIPU4hoDi06PvCPYjrgn7pcMTI61Mjqr1pkSajhJs4WkqxNgFXDImbdXGcDQznOaDOKxMk/s1600/nebraska.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>Payne makes the prevailing sense of his work one of melancholy and
decay rather than trying to impose a cloying nostalgia for the past. The way he
plays the main character, Bruce Dern conveys—just through his presence, his
carriage and gait—the full measure of a man who has fallen short of his own
expectations, letting his wonderfully weathered face course with subtle shades
of sorrow, self-loathing, and indignation. The old man Vernon sees in the bus
station in Pierre’s novel might well be Woody himself: “The skin of his face
hangs down in pockets, like he has lead implants. Character, they call it. It
ain’t character, though; you know it’s feelings. Erosion from waves of
disappointment and sadness…. the waves are mostly one-way; you collect them
over a lifetime, until finally the least fucken thing makes you bawl” (85). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In close-up, Woody’s face is a ravaged, deserted landscape in itself,
as bleak as his surroundings. Much like the pitchfork-wielding stoic in his
reverse namesake’s most famous painting, Woody Grant is something of a cipher,
his speech rarely veering from aloof responses like “Guess so” and “I suppose.”
But as the film unfolds, the traumas and tiny heartbreaks of Woody’s life
emerge, drip by drip, like the condensation on the glass of buttermilk he sips
late at night in the kitchen, alone. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNN2ms3YiLYFlydiKTIQNZO03JIve3MiVD1B18BHop-TKdX3oqYB0xj_1NLadN_VhZsbUeA4h3Usik6NH-d7Rm1nwbgNNpbOMB7wIOfSUy2gCCFdJS_6DFLSCNp-oQZ3PNtKwLssdfgHTH/s1600/jjj.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNN2ms3YiLYFlydiKTIQNZO03JIve3MiVD1B18BHop-TKdX3oqYB0xj_1NLadN_VhZsbUeA4h3Usik6NH-d7Rm1nwbgNNpbOMB7wIOfSUy2gCCFdJS_6DFLSCNp-oQZ3PNtKwLssdfgHTH/s1600/jjj.jpg" height="246" width="320" /></a>“This isn’t a tale of heroic feats” opens <i>The Motorcycle Diaries</i>, and the words can be applied directly to <i>Nebraska</i>. This inarticulate, alcoholic
lump of humanity is far from heroic, but Woody’s stubbornness, and the waves of
unacknowledged feeling that emanate from his grizzled, shapeless fac,e and
unsteady, bulky frame, make him worth caring about. He may be a confused old
drunk with a tendency to lose his teeth in odd locations, who was a crappy
father to David his brother Ross (Bob Odenkirk), but his quest for nonexistent riches seems
almost noble, and Dern fills the film’s wide open spaces with a performance of
subtlety, bitter-sweetness and surpassing emotional courage. In the process, he
creates a character every bit as iconic as his painterly alter-ego, one who
eloquently embodies the anxieties, thwarted aspirations and stubborn tenacity
of a rural middle class facing inexorable decline—an “American Gothic” for the
twenty-first century.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Like Eggers in <i>You Shall Know Our
Velocity</i>, Payne is concerned with giving a log of the characters’ journey
only as much as he is with looking into the life of its protagonist. Whereas
the novel allows us to enter Will’s mind, creating a stark contrast between
internal and external action, <i>Nebraska</i>
gives us only hints of what might be going on behind Woody’s placid exterior.
The character’s default answers are “Don’t remember” and “Don’t know,” and his
attitude towards the events of his life is largely summed up by his repeated
statement, “Doesn’t matter.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii559bIbxcGyVT11K2rmPE9LWleTRWbwKbIfD3E95dUXTFEUuf9W5sO6J1ELgMk_ERaHGCwE8p36JyuAoPTLto544gxHHNoFzh-2vliRkZ4IRPhRU8vAVsVW_D2Bb3rjwXzn-gcDkyQCID/s1600/nebraska-movie1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii559bIbxcGyVT11K2rmPE9LWleTRWbwKbIfD3E95dUXTFEUuf9W5sO6J1ELgMk_ERaHGCwE8p36JyuAoPTLto544gxHHNoFzh-2vliRkZ4IRPhRU8vAVsVW_D2Bb3rjwXzn-gcDkyQCID/s1600/nebraska-movie1.jpg" height="172" width="320" /></a>Dern, however, provides flashes of consciousness discernible behind his
general inscrutability; the performance is like a window blind that’s mostly
closed but can momentarily flap open to reveal what’s in the room. As the
reasons for Woody’s sadness come to light, it becomes clear that, rather than
being cut off from his feelings, Woody is channeling them through his quest,
which becomes his last-ditch attempt at expressing hope, desire and—perhaps
most importantly—long-buried generosity.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We can’t tell what he’s really thinking when David tells him, over and
over again, that the million-dollar letter is a come-on for magazine
subscriptions and that he hasn’t won anything. Sometimes Woody gives back an
implacable hostility and sometimes he’s like a petulant child: “But it says I
won!” In his obstinate belief in the prize and dogged determination to go
collect it, what must be long after he’s discovered it’s not real, Woody resembles
the town people and their need to believe, against all odds, that one of them
has made good. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">“It’s just this illusion we live with,” Will says in <i>You Shall Know Our Velocity</i>, “this
illusion that we want to for<i>get</i>
things. That we need to forget so we can live, because everything is too <i>much</i>, our burdens are so great we need
to self-lobotomize, at least partially, chemically or whatever, right?” (322).
Woody has certainly self-lobotomized through his alcoholism, but we’re not
quite sure what he’s trying to forget until we get to Hawthorne. The poignancy
of the movie resides not in the awful emptiness of Woody’s millionaire
delusions, but in the sudden, extraordinary personal richness that the journey
discloses. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">David finds himself learning secondhand about the taciturn father he
has never really known, meeting an ex-flame who competed with his mother for
Woody’s affections, hearing rumors of a possible extramarital affair, and gleaning
details about Woody’s service in Korea; he discovers that his dad, far from
being a dull and tiresome nullity, once had a vivid existence, a complicated
love life, and a remarkable war record. These startling discoveries bring the
two characters closer together. In the end, <i>Nebraska</i>
is not a movie about an old man enjoying a late-in-life epiphany as much as
about the son’s kindness. Getting to know his father better is the true goal of
the trip beyond any delusions of wealth. I’d venture to say that the closeness
the two characters develop is worth more than the million dollars, real or
imaginary. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">That human connection is what Vernon is looking for in Eggers’ novel,
what Che and Alberto unsuspectingly find on the road, in the villages of Peru,
or the leper colony, the driving force behind Jesse and Celine getting off that
train in Vienna, and the reason Will and Hand travel the world looking for people
to give money to. Because, as Celine says in <i>Before Sunrise</i>, “Isn’t everything we do in life a way to be loved a
little more?... I believe that if there’s any kind of God, it wouldn’t be in
any of us. Not you or me… but just this little space in between. If there’s any
kind of magic in this world, it must be in the attempt of understanding
someone, sharing something. I know, it’s almost impossible to succeed, but who
cares, really? The answer must be in the attempt.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5po1pc7Nb7woXYQTu8MS_A7BPcod1KbpUHvb264v8TgxeVM_MZlWI5LVaAG94nxh78iLWpnw4_KhiWajek87cR2aoHIfq20djd6vDvxMHg6kL6Lo8ik4pDT3S3Hj-0v4wMUl3EVOl-dE9/s1600/knlnl;.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5po1pc7Nb7woXYQTu8MS_A7BPcod1KbpUHvb264v8TgxeVM_MZlWI5LVaAG94nxh78iLWpnw4_KhiWajek87cR2aoHIfq20djd6vDvxMHg6kL6Lo8ik4pDT3S3Hj-0v4wMUl3EVOl-dE9/s1600/knlnl;.jpg" height="217" width="320" /></a>This attempt doesn’t cease after the credits roll or the last page is
turned. <i>Nebraska</i>’s final images are
poignant and beautiful, but the movie, like its main character, is a thing of
bruised, battered beauty. There is nothing idyllic about its depiction of the
small town or its inhabitants, nothing unnecessarily sentimental or prettified
in the characters’ interactions, and nothing false in the denouement.<i> </i>After leaving the prize office not only
without any money, but with an infinitely tragic hat that proclaims, “Winner,”
in big, bold letters, David engineers a consolation prize for his father, a gift
that, like <i>Nebraska</i> itself, is both
perfectly right and ineffably sad. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The journey of discovery and self-discovery is not over in the last
scene, just as it is not over in the two novels and two films explored in this
essay. In <i>The Motorcycle Diaries</i> and <i>Vernon God Little</i>, the characters have
just discovered who they are and who they want to be, and are on the road to attaining
that vision; <i>Before Sunrise</i> ends,
appropriately, on another train, heading to a new destination; and in <i>You Shall Know Our Velocity</i>, Will is
only two months away from his death, although he doesn’t know it yet, but for
those two “glorious and interminable months we lived”—these are the last words
of the novel (350). Like him, Woody might have a few months left, or a few
years, or even a few days, but as he drives down that Nebraskan main street in
the closing scene, away from his past and towards his future, he is utterly
alive. </span></span></div>
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</span></span>Ella Tucanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09545967131861913965noreply@blogger.com0