Caché (dir. Michael Haneke – 2005)

Michael Haneke’s Caché (2005) opens with a static shot of a residential area in Paris, France. We’re not sure what we should be focusing on; the camera doesn’t make it a point to clue in the viewer on anything in the frame. Cars are passing the road, people walk by, and a woman leaves her house. Suddenly, what we’re watching begins to rewind. Our perceptions have been altered; what we were watching wasn’t apart of the film, like one would assume – it was, in fact, a married couple viewing a video tape that was recorded outside of their house. The tape was left outside of their house without any indication of who was behind the act. These first few minutes sum up the entire approach Haneke is taking.

The tapes continue to arrive anonymously, with drawings that look as if a child was behind them. One of the tapes is a brief clip of an enormous house. This house was the childhood home of Georges (Daniel Auteuil), a talk-show host. Another tape consists of a camera positioned in car, recording a drive down a seemingly random street. The camera then cuts to a hallway in an apartment complex. It gradually makes its way down the hall, positioning itself on an apartment door. Georges manges to freeze-frame the footage in order to make out the the street-name. He thinks he knows who did it. Anne (Juliette Binoche), the wife of Georges, demands him to let her know. She’s frightened by the fact that someone – anyone – is recording them. She takes them as threats. He, frustratingly, refuses to let her in, claiming “it’s just a hunch.”

I feel as if I shouldn’t spoil who is in this apartment, but on the other hand I feel like I should. The first reason being, this film is seven years old. This is not a new release, and, quite frankly, the film’s strengths don’t lie in the identity of this person. The second reason being, it’s rather difficult to delve into the film’s themes without spoiling who this person is. It should be noted that the resident of the apartment may or may not be the person that sent the tapes/drawings. Georges manages to find this little flat. The resident of the apartment is a person that recognizes Georges immediately. His reaction is a surprising one. Georges’ initial reaction is a mystery; he doesn’t know who this person is, though he gradually realizes his identity. The resident is Majid (Maurice Bénichou), an Algerian man who grew up with Georges. Majid’s parents were friends with Georges’ parents. They were killed in the massacre during the Algerian war, thus forcing Majid to live with Georges for the time being. Majid insists that he wasn’t the one to send these letters/drawings.

After Anne receives a video of Georges threatening Majid in his apartment, she questions why he lied. Why did he tell her that no one was in the apartment? Georges’ childhood is explained to Anne. Throughout the film, we see random intercuts of a boy coughing up blood and a boy chopping a chicken’s head off with an axe, watching it flail about headless, then swinging the axe towards another boy. He tells Anne that he was miserable with Majid as a child. His parents suddenly focus their attention on Majid. He tells his parents that he witnessed Majid cough up blood; he insists that he’s not safe around him. His parents don’t buy it. He then tells Majid that his parents want him to kill an infected chicken. Majid kills the chicken, the parents find out, and Georges gets his way; the boy is sent away to an orphanage. His defense of his actions is simple: “I was six years old.” He believes that Majid is the guilty one here – he thinks Majid is the one responsible for the threats. Anne doesn’t buy it; judging from Majid’s reaction in the recorded video, she believes he’s being sincere.

There are no fade-ins to the boy coughing up blood or the chicken’s head getting chopped off. We aren’t sure, at the time, how this footage relates to the conflict at hand. Both scenes resemble the simplistic drawings that accompany the tapes: a chicken with its neck crunched and a boy with a stream of blood pouring out of his mouth. We know the person behind these tapes has knowledge of Georges and Majid’s past. The second scene, however, strays away from George’s explanation to his wife, partly because it’s one of George’s nightmares; a clear sign of guilt. Haneke also makes these scenes  ambiguous. It’s never clear if these scenes are apart of a memory or imagination, or, if they did indeed happen, who exactly is the child to cut off the chicken’s head. Was it Georges, not Majid? We have no reason to believe Georges, the narrator in these events to Anne, is a reliable one. Even during a vital scene towards the end, it still still isn’t clear which kid is who.

The approach to filmmaking is minimalistic, and that’s putting it lightly. Most of the shots are composed of static shots, with little to no cuts. When the married couple is having dinner, the camera merely stays in one location, examining every detail of the process. This would be a rather tiresome approach if weren’t for the fact that Daniel Auteuil and Juliette Binoche are so confident in their roles that they make give these static, plain shots an unbearable amount of tension. This shouldn’t work.

The film’s story is an allegory to the conflicts between the French and the Algerians during the Algerian war. This allegory does not come off heavy-handed. There’s one scene in particular that explains this message well. Georges is confronted by someone (not going to reveal who) in a bathroom. I’m not going to go into detail during this scene, as it can ruin one of the most shocking scenes I’ve seen in film. I will say, however, that one must pay close attention to this scene: take note of the way Haneke films this, and how it separates itself from the filmmaking methods found throughout the rest of the film. There’s a difference, and it’s there for a reason.

The relationship between Georges and Anne is kind of brushed under the bigger picture, but it’s something that should be examined. The relationship is a hostile one. There tends to be deceit between the two, more-so from the husband than the wife (Georges lying about the apartment, confiding to his mother instead of her, etc.) There’s a resentment towards Georges. Even after a horrifying incident occurs, Anne still finds the need to be forward with Georges, showing not the kind of respect one would expect. Another plot-line that doesn’t seem to care about answers is one that involves Anne and her friends. The son (Lester Makedonsky) brings up the allegation that Anne is involved in an affair. There isn’t much to support this allegation prior to this scene, and only one subtle scene that follows brushes upon it.

This isn’t a film that focuses on its answers. It’s a film that must be discussed.   While the film can be deciphered as an allegory to the Algerian war, the more prominent theme of the film, one that has a greater depth to it, is guilt (Haneke himself said he had no knowledge of this incident until two years prior to filming.) It’s about a man living in a life of financial luxury, only to be reminded of what his actions as a child led to. He will no longer live a life free of guilt. His past has come back to haunt him, in a way only Haneke could express. Should he feel guilty for his actions at such a young age? He had no idea that these fleeting moments would lead to something bigger. The film’s biggest mystery, the person responsible for the tapes, isn’t an important one. What matters is what the tapes bring about. Examine the final static shot closely; it took me two times to notice something substantial.

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Top 10 Most Anticipated of 2012

Boredom strikes and the urge to make another list rears its ugly head yet again. I figured I would compile a list of my most anticipated films of the year. It seems like a rather promising year, more-so than last year. Terrence Malick’s untitled film and Kar Wai Wong’s The Grandmasters  were omitted due to their sketchy release schedule. Had there been a confirmed date for either film, they would have been on the list.

It was hard to narrow down the list of films I’m anticipating to ten, so, of course, some films didn’t make the cut. Ridley Scott’s Prometheus (2011), Derek Cianfrance’s The Place Beyond the Pines (2011), Rian Johnson’s Looper (2011), and many other films, didn’t make the list.

10. Mud (dir. Jeff Nichols)

Okay, so I’m not exactly thrilled with the idea of Matthew McConaughey being the lead in Jeff Nichols’ third film. But it’s Jeff Nichols, one of the greatest young directors around. Michael Shannon teaming up with Nichols, even though it’s a supporting role, for the third time just sweetens the pot. I heard Nichols say in an interview that this is the film he has always wanted to make. It has been in his pocket for over ten years. It’s in the main competition at this year’s Cannes, which means there should be a release sometime in the Fall.

9. Seven Psychopaths (dir. Martin McDonagh)

The director of In Bruges (2008) reteams with Colin Ferrel in another dark comedy. Woody Harrelson, Sam Rockwell, Abbie Cornish, and Christopher Walken are there as well. Need I say more?

8. Rust and Bone (dir. Jacques Audiard)

I have no idea what’s going on in the french trailer for Rust and Bone. Something about a whale, a melancholic Marion Cotillard, and a very wet t-shirt. This should fancy any cinephile’s taste. But we’re talking about a film from the director of what I thought was the best film of 2009. Now, if we could only get a proper english trailer.

7. Beasts of the Southern Wild (dir. Benh Zeitlin)

I had heard an overwhelming amount of positive response over this during Sudance – then it won the top prize. Even though the films that come out of Sundance tend to be hit-and-miss, I was interested. After watching the recent trailer, my interest skyrocketed. It looks like a mix between a Malick film and Pan’s Labyrinth – in other words, it looks like a film that caters to my taste on every level.

6. Brave (dir. Mark Andrews)

I think this will be it. This will be the film to bring back Pixar to their former glory. After the critical flop that was Cars 2, they’re returning to (what looks like) their creative roots. This prediction may seem off base when talking about the American trailers, but the Japanese trailer is just so utterly fantastic that it makes it look like a completely different film. The Miyazaki influence is strong, more-so than any other Pixar project.

5. Lawless (dir. John Hillcoat)

Yes, the only trailer released for Lawless was poorly put together. It made the film look like pure cheese, which is the last thing I would expect from Hillcoat, and Shia Labeouf looks like he’s trying to be Jimmy from Boardwalk Empire. But damnit, I can’t help but get excited over this one. Hillcoat directing a crime-drama starring Gary Oldman, Jessica Chastain, Guy Pearce, and Tom Hardy. That is one damn fine ensemble.

4. Cosmopolis (dir. David Cronenberg)

David Cronenberg is returning to his roots – and when I say returning to his roots, I really mean it. The idea of Robert Pattinson starring in this kind of universe is rather exciting. This is his chance. It will either be a disastrous casting decision or a genius one. I have enough faith in Cronenberg to believe that this was the right decision. Plus, you know, there are giant rats roaming about in New York City.

3. The Hobbit (dir. Peter Jackson)

I had so much anticipation for Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit after seeing the trailer that I watched the extended edition of the trilogy over the following three days. Just seeing Gandalf grace his presence in The Shire one last time was enough for me to return to the trilogy. Early negative word on the 48-frames-per-second be damned. Martin Freeman as Bilbo Baggins is perfect casting.

2. Killing them Softly (dir. Andrew Dominik)

2007 was one of the best years for film. One of the biggest highlights was Andrew Dominik’s The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007). It was a film that had an undeniable influence from Malick, yet managed to have a voice of its own. His follow-up is a crime-drama starring Brad Pitt, James Gandolfini, Ray Liotta, and Richard Jenkins. If he can maintain the unique vision he displayed in his 2007 film, then we’re in for a real treat. If only they had stuck with the original title, Cogan’s Trade.

1. The Master (dir. Paul Thomas Anderson)

Five years later and we finally have a follow up to There Will Be Blood (2007). There isn’t much known about the film; it was shot in 70mm, it centers on a faith-based organization, and it has more Hoffman. That’s enough to get me jazzed, but nearly all of my anticipation stems from the fact that this is a Paul Thomas Anderson film. Will he be able to top his masterpiece? Will the five year wait be worth it? Only time will tell, but it’s most certainly at the top of my must-see list.

As you can probably tell, most of my anticipation stems from who is directing what. With the exception of The Hobbit, little of my interest lies in plot. Of course, these lists are basically arbitrary, and by the time the end of the year comes and I compile a list of my favorite films of the year, most of these films might not even end up on it. If I had made this list last year, Take Shelter (2011), A Separation (2011), and Certified Copy (2011) wouldn’t have been on there. But these things are fun to make.. right?

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Ebertfest 2012

I have never attended a film festival before. I live in a fairly small town that isn’t anywhere close to a note-worthy film festival. I’ve always had the desire to go to one. Just the general idea of screening films all day long, with people involved with each film there in person to do a Q&A, was exciting. So when my friend asked if I would like to attend Ebertfest with him, I immediately jumped on it.

There are numerous reasons for this rash decision. At the time, way back in November, the line-up had not been announced. Festival passes were on sale. So the thing was kind of a gamble, although after looking over the previous year’s line-ups, I figured it was a rather safe bet. The idea of going to the festival with a close friend – who happens to be a movie lover as well – just sweetened the deal.

March rolls around, the line-up is announced and I couldn’t have been more pleased. Citizen Kane (1941) with Roger Ebert’s commentary; A Separation (2011) with the possibility of the director attending; Take Shelter (2011) with both Jeff Nichols and Michael Shannon; Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949) with Patton Oswalt. These were the films that stood out to me the most. With the exception of Big Fan (2009) and Joe vs. the Volcano (1990), I hadn’t heard of any of the other films. Some of them intrigued me, but I didn’t look into them enough for me to gain any type of anticipation. Besides, that’s the point of this festival, isn’t it? The titles are, after all, selected by the man himself, titles that he thinks deserves more recognition.

Day one: We’re settled into our hotel and ready for the first film of the festival. We arrived about an hour early and were shocked to find out that a line (seen above) had formed for Joe vs. the Volcano. I wasn’t expecting a huge turn out for a film that was considered a flop upon release. It was a sign of what was to come. So we waited for a good forty minutes, doors opened, and we made our way up to the balcony (we decided beforehand that the balcony would be our preferred seating area.)

It’s impossible to do the Virginia Theater justice. It seats (I believe) 1500 people, boasts a gigantic screen, and a section for an orchestra. That sounds great on paper, but what really made the theater was the look of it. The walls were high, the paint was peeling, and the seats were noisy. It had character.

Out comes Chaz Ebert to introduce the 14th annual Ebertfest. Roger Ebert was feeling ill, so his greeting was rather short. The curtains open and the film begins. I don’t even know where to begin with this one. It was not at all what I was expecting. I had seen the other two collaborations between Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, although I suppose I should have adjusted my expectations a tad, as this film wasn’t directed by Nora Ephron. I’m not sure if I’d call it a good film. I do admire it to a degree. I admire that Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan did a film like this, admire the look of the film, and I kind of admire the campiness of it all. The special guest for the film was Stephen Goldblatt, the DP of the film. The Q&A with him was more interesting than the actual film. Following the film was The Truth About Beauty and Blogs (2011), a short film that I really didn’t care for. Following that fifteen-minute short was Phunny Business: A Black Comedy (2011). I knew nothing about this film going in. I was assuming from the title that it would be focused on a black comedian. What I got was a really good documentary on an entrepreneur that created one of the most popular, star-studded comedy clubs in Chicago.

Day two: We were a little smarter the following day. We decided to get there about an hour and fifteen minutes earlier. The line was even longer. The first film was Big Fan, a film I had never seen because, well, I didn’t have much of a desire to see it. It was a solid film with a really good performance from Patton Oswalt. Unfortunately, Oswalt couldn’t make it, which meant two things: Kind Hearts and Coronets screening was cancelled and no Q&A with him. However, Robert D. Siegel, the director of the film, was there to do the Q&A. Kinywarwanda (2011) followed. I was aware of the general synopsis of the film. What I wasn’t prepared for was its non-linear narrative structure, which, unfortunately, lessened the film for me. We were so starving by the end of the film that we left as soon as it ended, missing the Q&A. Because Kind Hearts and Coronets was cancelled, we had the night to ourselves. Luck was on our side; the 70th anniversary restoration of Casablanca (1942) was screening for one time only. It was glorious.

Day three: I believe the line was even longer this day. On Borrowed Time (2011) started the day. A documentary on a filmmaker, Paul Cox, who has been diagnosed with liver cancer. The film recalls his life and his passion for film. I’m ashamed to admit that I had never heard of Cox before (get on it, Criterion!) The Q&A was a profound session with Cox himself. The second showing was one I had been waiting for: Wild and Weird. Ten short films from the silent era accompanied by the Alloy Orchestra. All I wanted after it ended was for them to screen Metropolis (1927), with the orchestra showing off their creative energy in the grandest fashion. A Separation was the film to end the night. This was the first time I had seen the theater completely full. Now, I had seen the film three times prior to the viewing, so I wasn’t anticipating it as greatly as other films. I was, however, looking forward for Andy to see it. Thankfully, he loved it – in fact, it was his favorite film of the festival. Unfortunately, there was another no-show. The Q&A wasn’t set in stone, so I suppose I shouldn’t complain too much, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed that Asghar Farhadi didn’t show up.

Day four: This was the last full day at Ebertfest. Higher Ground (2011) was the first film. I knew nothing about this film other than the fact that Vera Fermiga directed it. A rather impressive directorial debut – and performance – from Fermiga. It felt about fifteen minutes too long and some of it was too on-the-head, but there are still admirable qualities to be found. The second film of the day, Patang (The Kite) (2011), was a visual feast. I do admit that the film tested my patience, though that could be due to the fact that I was, of course, starving. The following film was the film I had been waiting for: Take Shelter. I had seen the film once back in November and was immensely impressed by it – so much so that I decided to check out Jeff Nichols’ first feature, Shotgun Stories (a film I strongly urge you to seek out.) The Q&A followed with Jeff Nichols, Michael Shannon, and the Sony Pictures Classics head. This was, hands down, the best Q&A of them all. It’s easy to see why Nichols and Shannon enjoy working with one another so much. They seem to understand each other, both on a professional and personal level. As serious as the man can be, Shannon is a really funny guy. After the informative Q&A, we decided to wait at the theater. Being the big fans of Shannon that we are, we wanted to meet him. There were a group of people huddled around a door, so we decided to wait there. Twenty minutes pass and he appears. Signs a few autographs, takes a few pictures, then leaves the building. The guy was incredibly gracious, so much so that he took even more pictures outside. A woman grabs my phone, Andy and I stand next to him, and a picture is taken. It seems like a blur now, but I could not have been more nervous. I was literally shaking afterwards. A pathetic show.

Day five: The final day ends with Citizen Kane (1941). This was a special screening. The screening features Roger Ebert’s famous commentary for the film. The reason for this is so the Virginia Theater could hear Roger’s voice one last time. So there we sat, in what I think was a completely full theater, watching Citizen Kane in a completely different light. I had never listened to his commentary before (contemplated it several times.) The commentary was remarkable. You haven’t seen Citizen Kane until you’ve seen it with Roger’s commentary.

There’s one occurrence that I feel I must mention. On Saturday, I spotted Roger Ebert. He was on the first floor, sitting in an area that looked as if it were designed for him. I immediately went into the gift shop to pick up one his books to get signed (ended up getting Scorsese: By Ebert.) Just like Andy, who had met Roger at a book signing months ago, I froze. I had no idea what to say to the man. I have been watching/reading his reviews for ten years. I still watch his reviews. And there he was, sitting in front of me. It was surreal.

What a joy. Being surrounded by (mostly) cinephiles. Wake up, watch films all day, go to sleep. Sure, I had a few complaints (you would think that people who are attending a film festival would remember to silence their phones.) If only it had lasted longer. It’s very doubtful at the moment, but if the two of us are willing to spend the time and the money, Telluride here we come. Again, that was just small talk we had in the theater to pass the time.

Until next year..

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Cinematic Greats – Persona

Ingmar Bergman’s Persona (1966) is arguably his most challenging work. A bold assertion, indeed. When the first couple of minutes of the film contains a flash of an erect penis, an upside-down comic strip, a sheep being gutted, and a person’s hands being nailed into a stake, I would say that assertion is a valid one.

When a famous actress, Elizabeth (Liv Ullman), inexplicably collapses during a play, she is sent to a mental facility. A nurse, Alma (Bibi Anderson), is left to be her caretaker.  After a very short stay, the two are transfered to a secluded house on the sea, where Alma can get a better understanding of her patient. But as the film progresses, the very identity of the two individuals becomes somewhat of a blur. Elizbaeth, who doesn’t even utter a word, is left to hear Alma pour her soul out, telling Elizabeth her most personal secrets. Beneath Elizabeth’s innocent exterior is a judgmental person. It’s here where Elizabeth comes off as the Psychiatrist and Alma as the patient.

The meaning of it all has been discussed by critics and film fans. The discussion has lead to numerous theories: Alma is simply the persona of the famous actress Elizabeth; Elizabeth’s lack of communication with Alma changes the very perception of reality; the seclusion affects them in drastic ways. All of which have contradicting clues, but therein lies the brilliance. Each successive viewing brings out a new theory – or theories. Even after viewing it the other night, I found myself seeing it in a different light than I did with my prior viewing. I felt as if I had a better grasp (though not a complete one – I don’t believe that’s possible) of it than before.

The fact that Elizabeth rarely utters a word (she shouts to Alma when Alma threatens to throw boiling water on her) allows the viewer to fill in the gaps. Why is she silent? She collapsed during a stage after “having the urge to laugh,” and she is frightened after seeing a few snippets of war on television. We aren’t aware of what is going through her head – not until Alma’s curiosity gets the better of her and opens one of her letters that says she has been analyzing Alma’s conversations. This brings out the hostile nature in Alma. She poured her soul out to her, and Elizabeth’s reaction is pity. Could this relationship be a symbol for something greater? Perhaps a human’s relationship with a greater power?

There are little details that one picks up with each viewing, like the fact that Alma has the desire to be a married woman and have a son, yet she wears a wedding band. There’s also the creative decision to show the same scene twice; once from Alma’s perspective and once from Elizabeth’s perspective. Why does Bergman do this? The scene consists of Alma telling Elizabeth a theory of how Alma had little desire to be a mother and loathes her child. I happen to think this theory is a fact, mainly because of Anderson’s delivery, but like everything else in the film, it’s left open to interpretation. The two different points of view could suggest that this story is apart of both individuals, which would explain the freezeframe combination of the two characters’ faces.

All of these little details don’t feel meaningless in the hands of Bergman. Every little thing matters. Where the lighting is (that shot of Alma emerging from the light while Elizabeth is lying on her bed is a prominent one; the light always seems to be hovering over Alma in the first half of the picture), the boy’s hand on a screen of a faded woman, and that baffling scene where Elizabeth’s husband appears out of nowhere and addressees Alma as her husband. It’s a film that offers new – and disturbing – readings of one’s psyche. Its refusal to spell out its mystery is all part of the film’s alluring, haunting appeal.

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Top Films of 2011

Another year ends, another mandatory ‘top films of the year’ list. This begs a question: was this a better year in film than last year? According to a few people I’ve talked to, that would be a resounding no. Do I agree with them? I can’t say that I do.

Enough with the pointless intro. Onto the list!

10. Martha Marcy May Marlene (dir. Sean Durkin – 2011)

Sean Durkin’s Martha, Marcy, May, Marlene is the most promising debut of the year. It’s an unsettling slow-burn of a film that doesn’t necessarily focus on the ways of a cult like one would assume. Rather, it’s more of a character study of a woman that is forced back into society after choosing to abandon the ways of a fairly simplistic – yet demented – cult. The film switches narratives to present day to the days of the cult in a very clever fashion. The last image is haunting and will stay with you. But the best thing to come out of this film is Elizabeth Olsen: an Olsen sister that actually matters.

9. Midnight in Paris (dir. Woody Allen – 2011)

Woody Allen returns after a decade of lackluster films (yes, that includes Match Point (2005)) with a whimsical, delight of a film. Gil (Owen Wilson, who is easily the best Woody Allen replacement) lives a mundane life. He’s engaged with a wife that doesn’t seem to understand him in the slightest. A car pulls up, he travels back to an era that is suited for him, and the rest is, well, history. It’s the kind of film one expects Woody Allen would do.

8. The Artist (dir. Michel Hazanavicius – 2011)

No, it’s not the best film of the year. It doesn’t rank alongside the great silent films. But it’s immensely charming, and a refreshing film to see, one that will hopefully inspire people to look back into the silent era. It’s a very good film that often borders on greatness. This greatness lies in the scenes that play with modern methods of filmmaking (the use of sound taking over). However, this does propose a question that some people have criticized the film for: do some of these modern techniques the overall creative decision to make the film silent? No. I would have been surprised if this didn’t happen, given the material Hazanavicius is dealing with.

7. Drive (dir. Nicolas Winding Refn – 2011)

Nicolas Winding Refn’s Drive is a film that solely relies on its aesthetic. It oozes a style that’s reminiscent of Melville, while still being original in its own right. This is both a positive and a negative quality. I find the film mesmerizing while watching it. The techniques on display just works for me: the slow motion (take note, Snyder), the long takes, and the two camera set-up. This ultimately boils down to the good old “style over substance” argument. This doesn’t matter much, because the style is just so absorbing. If it weren’t for the problematic ending, I would rank the film a little higher. Nevertheless, this is a splendid action film. Hopefully more directors follow suit.

6. Shame (dir. Steve McQueen – 2011)

Steve McQueen followed his promising debut Hunger (2008) with Shame,  a film that focuses on a sex addict (Michael Fassbender) whose life is in ruins after his sister (Carey Mulligan) decides to stay with him. McQueen’s technical precision is as apparent as it was in his debut. Fassbender gives his strongest performance yet. He makes his addiction to sex actually seem like a disease (something I wasn’t sure if I would be able to buy.) The film’s approach almost seems like an extremely controlled documentary, and I mean that in a good way. The film never delves into melodrama, even when you think it might. The final hour is a harrowing experience, one that reminded me of the last stretch of Aronofsky’s Requiem for a Dream.

5. Certified Copy (dir. Abbas Kiarostami – 2011)

I went into Abbas Kiarostami’s Certified Copy knowing next to nothing about it. While watching it, I couldn’t help but compare it to Richard Linklater’s Before Sunset (2004). As it progressed even further, that comparison slowly diminished. The film presents two characters that roam about Tuscany. We are unsure whether or not the two were once together or if this is their first encounter. The film never spells it out for us; it leaves us clues that could contradict each opposing theory. My take on it? This is their first encounter. That theory holds much more thematic weight, questioning the bond of two people. Either way, it’s a mesmerizing picture, one that just begs for multiple viewings. As usual, Juliette Binoche is sublime.

4. Take Shelter (dir. Jeff Nichols – 2011)

Jeff Nichols’ Take Shelter is a film that relies on character. He establishes this blue-collar family in the smallest of details, much like his debut film Shotgun Stories (2007). He paints the married couple as faithful and loving people. They have a daughter who is in need of pricey medical assistance. Once Curtis (Michael Shannon) begins to have visions of an apocalyptic future, the emotional backbone of the story kicks in. We want so desperately for Curtis to be straightened out. The further he sticks with his beliefs, the more the family dynamic crumbles apart. By the time this happens, we can only hope that he is indeed right, that everything he’s doing will ultimately come true, for his sake and the family’s. All of this builds up to one of the most unnerving scenes in years. The entire film rests its weight on Michael Shannon’s shoulders, and he succeeds in spectacular ways. He makes you believe that he cares for his family, that everything he is doing is for their safety, while still maintaining that creepiness he is known for. It’s a powerhouse of a performance.

3. Hugo (dir. Martin Scorsese – 2011)

I must admit, when I saw the awful trailer for Martin Scorsese’s Hugo, I was a tad cautious, even though the film was coming from someone who might just be the greatest director working today. That skepticism quickly faded away. This isn’t about an orphan roaming about a train station with a little robot figure, as much as the marketing would like you to believe. Rather, it’s about an orphan (Asa Butterfield) that is confined to the walls of the train station, controlling the various clocks scattered around. The rest shouldn’t be spoiled. I’ll just say that eventually an old-time filmmaker comes into play.

This is undoubtedly Scorsese’s most personal film. As a youngster, Scorsese was confined to his apartment due to his allergies. He would spend all of his time watching movies. The cry for film preservation is in full force, but it does so without being overtly preachy. It’s about one’s mark in time, and how much an impact that one person can have. It’s a film for people that love cinema.

2. A Separation (dir. Asghar Farhadi – 2011)

Asghar Farhadi’s A Separation is a film that strips away cinematic flare for realistic storytelling. The camera feels as if it was placed to document the feud between two couples. I feel as if some critics have done a disservice to the film when labeling it as Hitchcockian thriller. To suggest that the thrills come from the story, for me, would be false. I found most of the tension to come from character, particularly from the immensely powerful ending (my heart was pounding on subsequent viewings.)

A Separation had the best ensemble of the year. It’s nearly impossible to choose a standout, though I find myself being more and more impressed with Peyman Moadi’s nuanced performance. Multiple viewings are necessary – not to find out who’s in the right or who’s in the wrong, but to pay attention to all of the detail that is in the script. Everything is implemented perfectly. It’s a film that doesn’t paint the characters as good or bad, but as real humans. You don’t see films like this often.

1. The Tree of Life (dir. Terrence Malick – 2011)

Terrence Malick’s fifth film in a career that nearly spans forty years is his best film (that’s right) yet. It’s a film that attempts – and succeeds – to portray our existence in the vast scheme of things. It opens with the death of a sibling, triggering the mind-blowing creation of the universe sequence, then centering the narrative on a family living in 1950s Waco, Texas. The focus is on Young Jack (the under-appreciated Hunter McCracken), who is having to deal with his controlling father. It marks the transition between adolescence and adulthood.

It’s nearly impossible to pinpoint what exactly The Tree of Life is doing. Articulating our existence, how nostalgia can be perceived in a different light as time goes by, etc. The fact that Malick succeeds in his ambitious vision makes his grueling wait in between each of his films worth it. This is a master filmmaker showcasing his grandest vision yet. It’s as if each film Malick made was building up to The Tree of Life (he did have the idea way back in the 70s.) The director is notoriously reclusive, but the few bits of information that is known about the director can be found in the film (one of his brother committed suicide, was notified of his death via telegram, etc.)  One must come to the conclusion that nearly everything else shown on screen is autobiographical. It’s hard not to admire the audacity.

I haven’t even touched on the flat-out gorgeous cinematography, the almost-too-fitting score, Brad Pitt’s career defining performance, and the best discovery of 2011: Jessica Chastain. The Tree of Life is a film I will revisit over and over. It has offered me a different experience – one that is emotionally draining – with each subsequent viewing.

 

There you have it. I watched nearly every film I intended on watching. Tinker, Tailer, Soldier SpyPoetry, and Weekend just missed the cut. We Need to Talk About Kevin was ultimately a disappointment, though I do feel Swinton’s performance deserves the praise. The Descendants had too many problems for me to find it to be very good (one of those problems being the completely useless voiceover narration.) Other films, such as Melancholiashouldn’t even be mentioned.

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84th Academy Awards – The Predictions

Another year, another list of predictions.

Best Picture

Will Win: The Artist.

Should Win: The Tree of Life.

Best Director

Will Win: Michel Hazanavicius

Should Win: Terrence Malick

Best Actor

Will Win: George Clooney

Should Win: Jean Dujardin

Best Actress

Will Win: Viola Davis

Should Win: Rooney Mara

Best Supporting Actor

Will Win: Christopher Plummer

Should Win: Christopher Plummer

Best Supporting Actress

Will Win: Octavia Spencer

Should Win: Bérénice Bejo

Best Animated Film

Will Win: Rango

Should Win: N/A

Cinematography

Will Win: The Tree of Life

Should Win: The Tree of Life

Best Foreign Film

Will Win: A Separation

Should Win: A Separation

Best Adapted Screenplay

Will Win: The Descendants

Should Win: Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy

Best Original Screenplay

Will Win: The Artist

Should Win: A Separation

Just going over the nominees (Best Actor..) made me disappointed all over again. But I digress, it is what it is. Best Supporting Actor is the biggest lock of the night. Best Adapted Screenplay and Best Actor are the two categories that I feel uncertain with. They might give Best Adapted Screenplay to Woody Allen, but I have a feeling they’ll give Payne the award to make the Best Picture category less of a lock. I’m fairly comfortable with all of my other predictions.

What win would make me the happiest? The Tree of Life for Best Picture and Malick for Best Director. A Separation for Best Original Screenplay wouldn’t hurt either.

What will I groan over? Clooney for Best Actor.

We shall see Sunday night. Feel free to follow me on Twitter to see me (most likely) complain.

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Quick Reviews: February 12th – February 18th

Damage (dir. Louis Malle – 1992)

Louis Malle’s Damage may have not been the most fitting film to view on Valentine’s Day. Indeed, it is an erotic film. The film’s focus, however, isn’t revolved around love; it’s about obsession. Jeremy Iron’s character is instantly drawn to Juliette Binoche’s character. Words aren’t spoken; the attraction is apparent through the simple moment of a look. He doesn’t seem to care that this woman is in a relationship with his son, and neither does she. He lives a life of ennui. She, a life of self-destruction (to a degree) and melancholy. The film simply presents the question of where our obsessions stem from and how far one will go to fulfill them. It never lays out answers in your typical fashion, but that doesn’t matter. The fact that it asks these questions is enough. One can relate to this need the protagonist has to some degree. The film stumbles in its final act, and the ending feels completely tacked on for American audiences. The film continues to cement my belief that Juliette Binoche is one of  the greatest actresses working today.

Night and Fog (dir. Alain Resnais – 1955)

There are images in Alain Resnais’  Night and Fog that I know I will never forget. The thirty minute documentary about concentration camps is a harrowing experience to say the least. The film juxtaposes present footage of the concentration camps and actual black and white of the same areas. As the film progresses, the footage becomes more uneasy to watch – a bulldozer plowing through bodies as if they were merely dirt, a dead man lying in a bed with his eyes wide open, etc. But it isn’t enough just to show this footage. The footage that is in color shows wide landscapes, green valleys, empty houses, etc. No matter how many years pass, these moments of atrocity will forever be embedded. Moments of peace do not nullify moments of despair. The film’s narration almost feels like a philosophical lecture. After feeling completely drained of any hope by the end, the film ends with the simple question, “Can this happen again? Will it?”

Howl’s Moving Castle (dir. Hayao Miyazaki – 2004)

Probably my least favorite of Miyazaki’s thus far. The first half was a joy to watch, but it completely lost me once the plot became insanely convoluted. A re-watch is definitely in order.

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