I think it says a lot about me when I believe that the perfect protagonist for this day and age actually lives one thousand years in the future. As far as I am concerned, no fiction character comes close to nailing the further nuances of the human condition in the 21st century as Philip J. Fry.
Now, I'm sure that when all is said and done, the history books will revere the Simpsons far higher than Futurama, and in a way I can't fault them. When one looks at the influence on popular culture that has reverberated from the Simpsons, it is impossible to understate how important it has been in the fields of humour, reference and more broadly, what can constitute an animated TV show. However, I have never be able to say that I have been emotionally moved watching the Simpsons. No, that's the job of Futurama.
Futurama was first broadcast in 1999 and after 13 years, 98 episodes and four straight-to-DVD films, it still, for my money, is the most consistent, hilarious, intelligent and emotionally engrossing show on television. Now, there are episodes that are contain some of the finest examples of contemporary humour (Roswell That Ends Well, Fry and the Slurm Factory, Mars University etc etc), but I'm going to focus on what I consider to be the upper echelon of episodes that not only leave one chuckling, but also profoundly affected (see: the Luck of the Fryrish, Jurassic Bark, Parasites Lost, the Devil's Hands Are Idle Playthings, the Late Philip J. Fry and to a lesser extent, the Cryonic Woman and Time Keeps On Slipping).
To me, all the truly great episodes concern not only the miserable themes of alienation, inadequacy, loss and unrequited romance, but also the potential for one to be a better person, regardless of whether one is celebrated for it. The beauty of Philip J. Fry is that, despite his horrendous intellectual deficiencies, he still operates as the everyman due to his displacement from his natural time (our present era (well, give or take ten years)) to 1000 years into the future. Hence, his confusion is our confusion, especially in the earlier series. However, it is not a stretch, especially considering the current trend for contemporary satire in the show, to further compare his separation from the world around him to our position now. Look around you. Give or take a couple of hover cars, we're not a million miles away from the backdrop of New New York. Despite this aiding in the show's satire, the two are very different for Fry. This is what gives him a underlying sense of tragedy. The show's liberal use of time travel aside, Fry can't never return to his previous life.
Fry's stupidity may harken back to the Simpsons clan, but he also has a strong moral side that, unlike that yellow family, never seems forced. Consider the conclusion to Parasites Lost. He wants to woo Leela, yet he knows that the romance will only satisfy him if she is truly in love with him for all his flaws. The worms are cast out and Leela rejects him. Although I can imagine an ending like this shoehorned onto Bart Simpson, it really doesn't suit. In fact, the only instance of Fry truly succeeding in wooing Leela occurs in Time Keeps On Slipping, but unfortunately this is lost due to time skipping forward. Now that's a tough break.
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Other musings
I watch too much Futurama.
Game 3 of the Stanley Cup Final is hosted in LA tonight. I think I'm going to stay up and watch it whilst writing a couple of reviews for New Empress. Hip hip.
I've spent the Jubilee (urgh) weekend watching an awful lot of films (Prometheus, Othello, Ran, Duck Soup, Quatermass and the Pit).
Time to eat pizza and watch the Trouble With Harry.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Contextual Exploitation and other musings
A few nights ago, in anticipation of the release of his new film Moonrise Kingdom, I caught up with one of Wes Anderson's earlier films. Despite being a very acclaimed and respected director, I've never sought out his work, even though I very much enjoyed the one film of his that I'd seen prior (1998's rather lovely Rushmore). So I popped the Darjeeling Limited into my DVD player and had another rather lovely evening. The nice thing about Wes Anderson is that you don't have to study his entire oeuvre to spot the man's quirks and interests. Despite the fact that some of his stories may dip into dark territories, the overall atmosphere is very light and frivolous, creating quite the odd juxtaposition.
And my, what dark places the Darjeeling Limited indeed stops at. If you don't wish to know any plot details, then please brave on with extreme caution and trepidation. From the start we know that Owen Wilson's character Francis has been involved in some of accident (it's as plain as the nose and bandages on his face. Boom boom.). As the film continues, it becomes apparent that this was as a result of a deliberate motorcycle accident. This culminates in an incredible scene involving Francis removing his bandages.
In the midst of an exiting and nuanced performance by Wilson, this scene represents almost 'the eye of the storm'. The frantic energy is gone, completely absorbed by the melancholy that almost threatens to burst from Francis' eyes. His face is bruised, not yet healed. His body, as established in earlier scenes, still broken. The spiritual trip he envisioned with his brothers has gone awry. In this moment, Francis is completely defeated. It's an wonderfully moving moment within the film on its own merits, but let us consider for a moment a larger context. The Darjeeling Limited made its world première at the Venice Film Festival on 3rd September 2007 (thank you Wikipedia). This was a week later than Wilson was admitted into a Californian hospital amid reports of depression and a suicide attempt. Within this context, the scene above is completely heartbreaking.
There are many moments like this dotted in film history. I can't have been the only one struck with sadness hearing Heath Ledger's Joker declare that he and Batman were "destined to do this forever". Moments like these must be incredibly difficult for filmmakers and editors. Owen Wilson was lucky enough to survive whatever ordeal he went through and is now happily (one would imagine) married and enjoying his deserved success. In a few years, his brief dalliance with California's health system will no doubt be forgotten and people (Owen and Wes included) will hopefully be able to enjoy the warmth of the Darjeeling Limited without having the real world awkwardly intrude. On the other hand, editing the Dark Knight must have been like stroking a raw nerve with a blunt and rusty razor, especially when there are lines that are so on the nose as the one mentioned above. However, such lines are thematically pivotal to film and it is Ledger's performance (for the most part) raises the film to something more than just a cinematic summer distraction.
Yes, it's only fiction, but there's an awful lot of real people working on every film you enjoy and I bet each of them have a story that could rival the tragedy of any Hamlet or Willy Loman. If only we could set them all to a kicking Peter Sarstedt tune.
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Other Musings
Images I have digested in the last 48 hours:
And my, what dark places the Darjeeling Limited indeed stops at. If you don't wish to know any plot details, then please brave on with extreme caution and trepidation. From the start we know that Owen Wilson's character Francis has been involved in some of accident (it's as plain as the nose and bandages on his face. Boom boom.). As the film continues, it becomes apparent that this was as a result of a deliberate motorcycle accident. This culminates in an incredible scene involving Francis removing his bandages.
In the midst of an exiting and nuanced performance by Wilson, this scene represents almost 'the eye of the storm'. The frantic energy is gone, completely absorbed by the melancholy that almost threatens to burst from Francis' eyes. His face is bruised, not yet healed. His body, as established in earlier scenes, still broken. The spiritual trip he envisioned with his brothers has gone awry. In this moment, Francis is completely defeated. It's an wonderfully moving moment within the film on its own merits, but let us consider for a moment a larger context. The Darjeeling Limited made its world première at the Venice Film Festival on 3rd September 2007 (thank you Wikipedia). This was a week later than Wilson was admitted into a Californian hospital amid reports of depression and a suicide attempt. Within this context, the scene above is completely heartbreaking.
There are many moments like this dotted in film history. I can't have been the only one struck with sadness hearing Heath Ledger's Joker declare that he and Batman were "destined to do this forever". Moments like these must be incredibly difficult for filmmakers and editors. Owen Wilson was lucky enough to survive whatever ordeal he went through and is now happily (one would imagine) married and enjoying his deserved success. In a few years, his brief dalliance with California's health system will no doubt be forgotten and people (Owen and Wes included) will hopefully be able to enjoy the warmth of the Darjeeling Limited without having the real world awkwardly intrude. On the other hand, editing the Dark Knight must have been like stroking a raw nerve with a blunt and rusty razor, especially when there are lines that are so on the nose as the one mentioned above. However, such lines are thematically pivotal to film and it is Ledger's performance (for the most part) raises the film to something more than just a cinematic summer distraction.
Yes, it's only fiction, but there's an awful lot of real people working on every film you enjoy and I bet each of them have a story that could rival the tragedy of any Hamlet or Willy Loman. If only we could set them all to a kicking Peter Sarstedt tune.
---------
Other Musings
Images I have digested in the last 48 hours:
Moonrise Kingdom hit UK cinemas yesterday. I went to an 11:40am showing, because I am a bad ass. I was going straight from my hair cut, which I'm not sure about. I am sure, however, that Moonrise Kingdom is very very very very very very very very good. So good, in fact, that it inspired me to go home and cook French toast because it reminded me of my camping experience.
My original plan for the evening involved going to bed around 9pm in order to wake up at 1am to watch Game 6 of the Devils/Rangers series. I couldn't sleep so I watched the Prestige instead. Good use of my time. I might go into it further at a later date, but I really think that it is one of the most imaginatively constructed and downright incredible films of the last 30 years. Why yes, that is a completely arbitrary length time.
Sleep exhaustion may have got the best of me, but last night's hockey game was incredible. I've been an active New Jersey fan since 2008 and they've never been out of the first round until this year. Now they're the Conference Champions. In an attempt not to wake up my housemates, all my celebrating consisted of texting exclamation points to my brother and silently fist pumping. I really wish I'd partaken in more team sports when I was younger. Shame I let the PE department at my school put me down.
But that wasn't the only sporting event I was watching this weekend. After waking up late and doing a bit of studying, I cooked myself some french toast and sat down to watch the qualifying for the Monaco Grand Prix. I know lots of people find Formula 1 incredibly dull, especially when it's at a circuit that famously doesn't lend itself to overtaking, but I really love watching any skilled person go about their passion (see the previous post). I find it so hard to comprehend how accurate these drivers are given the speeds that these cars travel. Plus, it's sunny and it's Monte Carlo. Hardcore yacht porn.
So, while everyone else was outside in the sunshine, I was moping about my room until I kicked myself into gear and went for a cinema trip. I finally caught up with Julie Delpy's 2 Days in New York. It's rather funny. Definitely the best performance I've seen from Chris Rock. Amazing what a talented person like him can do once someone gives him a well rounded character instead of a one-note joke dispenser.
This is me and my new hair looking very impressed with Eurovision.
Going to the New Empress Film Quiz this evening. Wish me luck!
Bonus List: Top 5 Wintery Summer Songs
5) Corridors - Observer Drift
4) Diagnosis - The Weakerthans
3) Heartbeats - The Knife
2) Close to Me - The Cure
1) Never Meant - American Football
Monday, May 21, 2012
Things I Find As Mesmerising As The Raid, Aren't Teaser Trailers Fun, and other musings
My my, haven't I been productive. I hope you readers haven't felt too neglected while I've been flitting about like a social butterfly. I feel pretty awkward. Here I am, asking you cool kids to take me back and all I have to offer is the blog equivalent of a hastily garage bought bouquet of flowers, already looking worse for wear. Maybe if we get them straight into some water, they'll buck up, much like our tenuous writer/reader relationship. So get yourself into a bath, while I give you a poorly constructed list/essay inspired by a film I watched last week.
The Raid (or, if you hail from across the pond, the Raid: REDEMPTION - yes, the caps are necessary) punched its way into cinemas and into our hearts last week. It is rather good, but I'm not sure if I can recommend it to people who find little to enjoy big action spectacles. I don't say this as a self appointed "action fan" - mainly because I wouldn't label myself as that, but more that I find the notion of rejecting a film due to genre a bit ridiculous. Fine, the overt violence displayed in films by the likes of Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan and Tony Jaa might be off-putting to many, but the truth is, that's not real violence. What you see during the running time of the Raid has been as carefully constructed as any ballet you might see and that's what keeps me riveted during such films. Obviously, it helps when you've a plot and solid actors drawing you into the stakes of a situation, but there's something I find incredibly mesmerising about the "let's put on a show" mentality.
I'm obviously a very special (and possibly warped) case. I remember seeing films as violent as the Terminator at a very young age, but the fact is I always knew there was little difference (beyond budget) between Arnie slaughtering a whole police station and my childhood games of Cowboys and Indians (aside - actually the most often game we played in primary school was Jurassic Park. The boys were the park goers (Neill, Goldblum, etc), the girls were velociraptors. This explains why girls terrify me). Although I loved that Terminator/police station sequence, what I always found more exciting and inspiring was the hilariously dated use of animatronics. Such it looks nigh on awful now, but it really resonated as a kid. I didn't just see Arnie rip his own eye out, that was a model, but someone built that model and that is awesome.
Sadly, special effects don't hold that mystique for me any more. Some might blame computer aided imagery. I definitely could point at least eight of my fingers at my laptop and shout "BLAME!" at the top of my voice. Now don't get me wrong, I appreciate the hard work that goes into programming but unfortunately, unless you geek out over vectors and advanced geometry, the mystery of effects has diminished. Compare An American Werewolf in London and An American Werewolf in Paris - just on the effects please, it's unfair to keep beating the corpse of ...Paris over ten years later. I remember what I thought the first time I saw the transformation sequence in ...London. It was "how?".
Special effects and martial arts share a rather strange place in cinema. Regardless of the quality of the non-fighting sequences in the Raid (hmm, I think that's all of five minutes), the film is inherently jawdropping, tense and, most importantly interesting. Same with the special effects sequences in films like Terminator, An American Werewolf in London and the Thing. In fact, you could replace all the non-effects scenes in the Thing with acting of the quality of the Room and it would still be recommendable. Dancing and music should be two similar sets pieces, but beyond Astaire/Rogers and the musical hi-jinks of Chico & Harpo Marx, these things rarely work in film. I guess when it comes down to it, it's easy to assign life & death stakes to fighting and gooey monsters. I can't think of a tense dance/piano sequence (note to self: Speed with a piano, 30 notes a minute, no dissonance).
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So if you follow film as much as I do, you'll have probably seen the three big teaser trailers released today. For those who haven't, please watch below (they're only a minute or so each).
In terms of quality, from start to finish, you should probably watch them in that order. Make sure to full screen the middle one though.
As mentioned in a post earlier this month, spoilers and information presented in trailers is quite the contentious issue. I think all three of these are fairly safe. In fact, there's no guarantee that any footage in the Anchorman and the Master trailers especially will reach the final cut. I like teaser trailers. I think they're a great way of establishing a mood for a film without giving away any of the tricks. So the Master, for example, looks to be continuing the path of the American nightmare that was There Will Be Blood. Skyfall is the most surprising, mainly because I don't have high hopes for anything Craig, Mendes or Bond related and that is an incredibly pretty trailer (Deakins!). Anchorman 2 - sheesh. I hope that's not going to be reflective of the finished product. Painful. At least it's getting straight to what people want. Regardless of how ill defined they are, people enjoyed the KVWN news team.
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Other musings
I have no explanations for you as to why this took me so long to write. I just haven't felt wonderfully inspired lately. I may warm up the old creative muscle and try to write some fiction for next time.
It was Jonathan Hatfull(of http://jonathanwriting.blogspot.co.uk/ fame)'s birthday on Saturday. That was rather messy. In fact, I don't remember much of it and I'm still feeling rather rough from then. I have some odd grazes on my hands, wrists and elbows. I'm quite happy for it to stay a mystery. His birthday gift arrived in the post today. Don't tell him! It's a secret!
Everyone welcome my old friend Thomasin Bailey into the blogosphere! You can find her and her musings on life via Shakespeare here: http://waxenhearts.blogspot.co.uk/ . She's even brave enough to record videos. Say hi, be polite.
Just when comic book movies were being taken seriously... http://goodcomics.comicbookresources.com/2012/05/21/she-has-no-head-dear-marvel-stop-ruining-everything/
Devils/Rangers continues tonight. Do you think work would mind if I turned up tomorrow with my face painted?
As mentioned in a post earlier this month, spoilers and information presented in trailers is quite the contentious issue. I think all three of these are fairly safe. In fact, there's no guarantee that any footage in the Anchorman and the Master trailers especially will reach the final cut. I like teaser trailers. I think they're a great way of establishing a mood for a film without giving away any of the tricks. So the Master, for example, looks to be continuing the path of the American nightmare that was There Will Be Blood. Skyfall is the most surprising, mainly because I don't have high hopes for anything Craig, Mendes or Bond related and that is an incredibly pretty trailer (Deakins!). Anchorman 2 - sheesh. I hope that's not going to be reflective of the finished product. Painful. At least it's getting straight to what people want. Regardless of how ill defined they are, people enjoyed the KVWN news team.
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Other musings
I have no explanations for you as to why this took me so long to write. I just haven't felt wonderfully inspired lately. I may warm up the old creative muscle and try to write some fiction for next time.
It was Jonathan Hatfull(of http://jonathanwriting.blogspot.co.uk/ fame)'s birthday on Saturday. That was rather messy. In fact, I don't remember much of it and I'm still feeling rather rough from then. I have some odd grazes on my hands, wrists and elbows. I'm quite happy for it to stay a mystery. His birthday gift arrived in the post today. Don't tell him! It's a secret!
Everyone welcome my old friend Thomasin Bailey into the blogosphere! You can find her and her musings on life via Shakespeare here: http://waxenhearts.blogspot.co.uk/ . She's even brave enough to record videos. Say hi, be polite.
Just when comic book movies were being taken seriously... http://goodcomics.comicbookresources.com/2012/05/21/she-has-no-head-dear-marvel-stop-ruining-everything/
Devils/Rangers continues tonight. Do you think work would mind if I turned up tomorrow with my face painted?
That man just turned 40. Boom.
To bed! With Vanity Fair, New Empress and a big old glass of water.
Monday, April 30, 2012
That Cabin in the Woods that should not be spoken about and other musings
Now, given the title of this blog post, one would hope that if you haven't seen Cabin in the Woods yet and do not wish to know anything about it, you have closed this window or moved on to another website. Just in case you are really dense, I'm going to put a nice gap in here with lots of asterisks just to emphasise that below this line lies a discussion in which plot, cinematography, acting and various other features of several films will be revealed.
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There. Now the grown ups can talk. If I'm sounding somewhat antagonising, that's because I feel antagonised and want to take it out on all of you. Because I'm nice like that. Cabin in the Woods, after a tumultuous stay on two studios' shelves, finally saw release last month. I'm fortunate to have a friend who saw it months before its general release. He warned me that I would want to avoid any information regarding the film for reasons left vague. So, do you know what I did? Aside from the poster and the trailer that I had seen prior to his warning, I did just that. I didn't watch any promotional materials, interviews, set photos and I sure as hell avoided all reviews. Even on Twitter, it wasn't difficult to avoid reading anything that had the words, "Cabin in the Woods" featured. Many people had a similar idea. However, some of these folk took it upon themselves to lambaste anyone whom they felt gave too much information away in their respective tweets, reviews or conversations.
Spoilers have often been a contentious subject. I remember vividly the anger I felt for my brother when he carelessly revealed the conclusion to Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind. Did that annoy me? Yes. Did impair my ability to enjoy the film? Not especially. It made one of the final sequences seem quite drawn out, but the film more than makes up for it with incredible acting, outstanding effects and the sheer fact that it painstakingly details intense heartbreak and succeeds in bring such raw emotion to the screen visually. Sure, I was angry at my brother, but that was because he offered up the information without any prompting. I didn't ask him how it ended, so I didn't expect him to divulge that detail when I asked him if he would recommend the movie. Now, imagine that it wasn't my brother "spoiling" the film, but a reviewer. Would I be angry at the review? No, I would be angry at myself.
This is where I seem to differ in opinion to those ardent protectors the Cabin and its secrets. I don't think anything should be off limits within a review. If I want to know a reviewer's opinion about a film, I don't think it is right to limit the scope of the review if it is contributing something to one's interpretation or approach to a picture. If Roger Ebert wants to discuss how he feels the final shot of Cabin in the Woods relates to how lacking in finality and consequence horror films have become, I think he has every damn right to. If I don't want to know Roger Ebert's opinion on the final shot of the film, I shouldn't read his review. Now, I think there are some exceptions. If, for example you write for a newspaper along the lines of the Metro or you are the film review for GMTV, you should probably avoid any sort of insightful comments on a film, its proposed message and how the structure, plot and other filmic techniques allow the movie to present this. This is not a proper forum for any detailed discussion on film. No, this is where one presents a glorified recommendation akin to "it will scare the skin off your face" or "loads of laughs, go see it".
What makes this even more baffling to me is that, if one has seen the poster for the film, or any glimpse of Bradley Whitford, Richard Jenkins or their place of occupation, one has seen everything that could constitute a spoiler for the film. Cabin in the Woods doesn't spin the traditional horror movie formula of the last 40 years, but adds another layer. What if all this slaughter that we have witnessed being performed by the likes of Freddy, Pinhead, the Mummy or any number of Stephen King creations was being orchestrated by higher powers for a higher purpose. This is all touched on in the first 10 minutes of the film. Literally everything else in the plot is irrelevant to this discussion. Does it matter that the creatures that plague the teenagers in the Cabin are real or robotic? No, what matters is that they are purposefully being put in to this position by other people. In fact, all this furore about the film's plot hindered my enjoyment of the film. Instead of just enjoying the journey that co-writers Joss Whedon and Drew Goddard were trying to take me on, I was wondering if there were any further spins or layers to be revealed. There weren't. Furthermore, the people orchestrating this odd spoiler witch hunt seemed to have already made up their mind to see the film, so what purpose was reading the review going to serve?
Plot occupies an odd position within film and reviews. It takes far more than good story to make a film great, yet you wouldn't hear people complain that reviewers are spoiling films if they discussed the lush black and white vistas of Manhattan or the incredible audio work on Mulholland Drive. It could be argued that having the plot be a mystery better serves the film going experience. I've seen Shutter Island several times now. Does knowing the ending spoil my experience of that film on repeat views? No, it enhances it and ultimately I think this is what hinders Cabin in the Woods. It's a roller-coaster ride. It's fun, it makes you jump, it provides greats laughs and great performances, but when I watch it again, will I be as heavily invested? Probably not. What makes this such a tight rope for distributors is that, unless you're a huge film geek who cares about specific acting turns or more technical aspects of a film, the plot is what is going to slam your bum on a seat. Consider, as a comparsion, Midnight in Paris. That trailer gave away nothing of the film's plot and as a result, looked tepid and dull. Prior to the film's release, however, everyone was talking about the fantastical time travelling aspect to the film and I'm sure that, along with a popular critical reception, is what drove the success of the film. It was interesting, it sounded different. Cabin, on the other hand, has had an opposite development. The trailer gave away more than many thought it should and then suddenly the self designated protectors of all the Cabin's secrets did the trailer's job for them. They told their friends to avoid the trailers, that this was a great horror film with a twist and that they'd enjoy it very much. Unlike Midnight in Paris, the plot of Cabin was made incredibly tantalising, but was it for the better?
Now, obviously this is just my opinion, I understand that is my own and not one shared by many people. Personally, I rarely read reviews until I've seen a film. I know enough people who care about film to get a rough idea of whether a film is worth watching or not without finding out much about it beyond the director, the actors and a very rough outline of the story. If I'm looking for a recommendation, I turn to them. If I'm looking for an in-depth discussion that may border on plot details, I go to a review.
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Other musings
Yes, the blog is back after my exam hiatus. They were quite nice this time round, so fingers crossed.
Since last we spoke, I've embarked on a Woody Allen marathon. I realised I was watching more of his films a year than any other director's, so I thought I'd get them over with. Recent viewings have included Love and Death, Broadway Danny Rose and Deconstructing Harry. I've also caught up with Avengers Assemble, Tiny Furniture and Once Upon a Time in Anatolia.
The NHL Playoffs have started. Being a cynical New Jersey fan, I severely doubted our ability to survive the first round. We barely did that. Now, our second round match up pits us agains the Philadelphia Flyers. I have doubted our ability to even win a game in this series and, while we haven't done that, we were only narrowly beaten in overtime in the first game. I'm still picking Philly to win.
I found out first hand how dodgy the dodgy fast food chicken place down my road is. Nom.
My good friend Jonathan Hatfull and I maintained our perfect record of coming second in the New Empress film quiz. All him this time round. The theme was action movies which my knowledge of is awfully basic.
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There. Now the grown ups can talk. If I'm sounding somewhat antagonising, that's because I feel antagonised and want to take it out on all of you. Because I'm nice like that. Cabin in the Woods, after a tumultuous stay on two studios' shelves, finally saw release last month. I'm fortunate to have a friend who saw it months before its general release. He warned me that I would want to avoid any information regarding the film for reasons left vague. So, do you know what I did? Aside from the poster and the trailer that I had seen prior to his warning, I did just that. I didn't watch any promotional materials, interviews, set photos and I sure as hell avoided all reviews. Even on Twitter, it wasn't difficult to avoid reading anything that had the words, "Cabin in the Woods" featured. Many people had a similar idea. However, some of these folk took it upon themselves to lambaste anyone whom they felt gave too much information away in their respective tweets, reviews or conversations.
Spoilers have often been a contentious subject. I remember vividly the anger I felt for my brother when he carelessly revealed the conclusion to Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind. Did that annoy me? Yes. Did impair my ability to enjoy the film? Not especially. It made one of the final sequences seem quite drawn out, but the film more than makes up for it with incredible acting, outstanding effects and the sheer fact that it painstakingly details intense heartbreak and succeeds in bring such raw emotion to the screen visually. Sure, I was angry at my brother, but that was because he offered up the information without any prompting. I didn't ask him how it ended, so I didn't expect him to divulge that detail when I asked him if he would recommend the movie. Now, imagine that it wasn't my brother "spoiling" the film, but a reviewer. Would I be angry at the review? No, I would be angry at myself.
This is where I seem to differ in opinion to those ardent protectors the Cabin and its secrets. I don't think anything should be off limits within a review. If I want to know a reviewer's opinion about a film, I don't think it is right to limit the scope of the review if it is contributing something to one's interpretation or approach to a picture. If Roger Ebert wants to discuss how he feels the final shot of Cabin in the Woods relates to how lacking in finality and consequence horror films have become, I think he has every damn right to. If I don't want to know Roger Ebert's opinion on the final shot of the film, I shouldn't read his review. Now, I think there are some exceptions. If, for example you write for a newspaper along the lines of the Metro or you are the film review for GMTV, you should probably avoid any sort of insightful comments on a film, its proposed message and how the structure, plot and other filmic techniques allow the movie to present this. This is not a proper forum for any detailed discussion on film. No, this is where one presents a glorified recommendation akin to "it will scare the skin off your face" or "loads of laughs, go see it".
What makes this even more baffling to me is that, if one has seen the poster for the film, or any glimpse of Bradley Whitford, Richard Jenkins or their place of occupation, one has seen everything that could constitute a spoiler for the film. Cabin in the Woods doesn't spin the traditional horror movie formula of the last 40 years, but adds another layer. What if all this slaughter that we have witnessed being performed by the likes of Freddy, Pinhead, the Mummy or any number of Stephen King creations was being orchestrated by higher powers for a higher purpose. This is all touched on in the first 10 minutes of the film. Literally everything else in the plot is irrelevant to this discussion. Does it matter that the creatures that plague the teenagers in the Cabin are real or robotic? No, what matters is that they are purposefully being put in to this position by other people. In fact, all this furore about the film's plot hindered my enjoyment of the film. Instead of just enjoying the journey that co-writers Joss Whedon and Drew Goddard were trying to take me on, I was wondering if there were any further spins or layers to be revealed. There weren't. Furthermore, the people orchestrating this odd spoiler witch hunt seemed to have already made up their mind to see the film, so what purpose was reading the review going to serve?
Plot occupies an odd position within film and reviews. It takes far more than good story to make a film great, yet you wouldn't hear people complain that reviewers are spoiling films if they discussed the lush black and white vistas of Manhattan or the incredible audio work on Mulholland Drive. It could be argued that having the plot be a mystery better serves the film going experience. I've seen Shutter Island several times now. Does knowing the ending spoil my experience of that film on repeat views? No, it enhances it and ultimately I think this is what hinders Cabin in the Woods. It's a roller-coaster ride. It's fun, it makes you jump, it provides greats laughs and great performances, but when I watch it again, will I be as heavily invested? Probably not. What makes this such a tight rope for distributors is that, unless you're a huge film geek who cares about specific acting turns or more technical aspects of a film, the plot is what is going to slam your bum on a seat. Consider, as a comparsion, Midnight in Paris. That trailer gave away nothing of the film's plot and as a result, looked tepid and dull. Prior to the film's release, however, everyone was talking about the fantastical time travelling aspect to the film and I'm sure that, along with a popular critical reception, is what drove the success of the film. It was interesting, it sounded different. Cabin, on the other hand, has had an opposite development. The trailer gave away more than many thought it should and then suddenly the self designated protectors of all the Cabin's secrets did the trailer's job for them. They told their friends to avoid the trailers, that this was a great horror film with a twist and that they'd enjoy it very much. Unlike Midnight in Paris, the plot of Cabin was made incredibly tantalising, but was it for the better?
Now, obviously this is just my opinion, I understand that is my own and not one shared by many people. Personally, I rarely read reviews until I've seen a film. I know enough people who care about film to get a rough idea of whether a film is worth watching or not without finding out much about it beyond the director, the actors and a very rough outline of the story. If I'm looking for a recommendation, I turn to them. If I'm looking for an in-depth discussion that may border on plot details, I go to a review.
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Other musings
Yes, the blog is back after my exam hiatus. They were quite nice this time round, so fingers crossed.
Since last we spoke, I've embarked on a Woody Allen marathon. I realised I was watching more of his films a year than any other director's, so I thought I'd get them over with. Recent viewings have included Love and Death, Broadway Danny Rose and Deconstructing Harry. I've also caught up with Avengers Assemble, Tiny Furniture and Once Upon a Time in Anatolia.
The NHL Playoffs have started. Being a cynical New Jersey fan, I severely doubted our ability to survive the first round. We barely did that. Now, our second round match up pits us agains the Philadelphia Flyers. I have doubted our ability to even win a game in this series and, while we haven't done that, we were only narrowly beaten in overtime in the first game. I'm still picking Philly to win.
I found out first hand how dodgy the dodgy fast food chicken place down my road is. Nom.
My good friend Jonathan Hatfull and I maintained our perfect record of coming second in the New Empress film quiz. All him this time round. The theme was action movies which my knowledge of is awfully basic.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Why I think "Play It Again, Sam" is every part the equal to "Casablanca" and other musings
Casablanca turned 70 the other day. I celebrated this by watching a film that has Casablanca completely entrenched in its plotting, humour, characters and soundtrack, yet isn't Casablanca. This was the Woody Allen comedy that isn't quite a Woody Allen comedy, Play It Again, Sam. So to recap, I'm watching a film that contains great similarities with Casablanca without being Casablanca, written by one of the great film comedies without seemingly being part of his oeuvre. Got it? Great.
Back in ye olden times, before Woody Allen was the Hollywood workhorse putting out films of varying humour and varying quality every year, he was an inspired stand up comic beginning to encroach art forms, writing several plays, articles and films (including directing the bizarre editing experiment What's Up, Tiger Lily?). So, his own directing/actor career was beginning to pick up when he starred in an adaptation of his own play with future Annie Hall cast members Tony Roberts and Diane Keaton. Allen plays Allan, a film obsessed neurotic Jew obsessed with Humphrey Bogart living in - no, not New York - San Francisco. Yes, seeing a traditional Woody Allen comedy play out in a city away from the Big Apple takes getting use to, especially given that, beyond one sequence on the trams, it could really be set anywhere. Allan is going through a rough divorce and his friends, couple Dick (Roberts) and Linda (Keaton), try setting him up with girls to help. Allan's feelings of inadequacy (of course he has those, it's a Woody Allen character) manifest themselves in the form of a dating advice dispensing Humphrey Bogart (Jerry Lacy). The story documents Allan's terrible dates and his growing relationship with Linda, setting up a Casablanca aping finale.
Casablanca, on the other hand, needs no introduction.
Let me sum up how I feel about these films. I both feel they are pretty equal, however, Play It Again, Sam is always better than its reputations, and Casablanca is the opposite.
Casablanca seems to have hold some prime real estate in movie lists - Best Film, Best Quotes, Best Romance, Best Heroes and on and on. I think it's serviceable. I never buy into the romance of the plot, which is quite damning considering the film identifies itself as one of the best romances of all time. While the finale is fun, it never gets those tears rolling and the script, for all its memorable quotes, really is a bit hokey. The fact that Bogart himself came up with the 'here's looking at you, kid' line really shows given that it is repeated OH I DON'T KNOW, ABOUT THREE OR FOUR TIMES COMPLETELY OUT OF CONTEXT.
On the other hand, Play It Again, Sam is stunningly written. Incredibly inventive, witty and surprisingly emotional. I think what really stuns me is that it takes the finale from Casablanca word for word and actually gives it an emotional heart. Maybe it's just as a consequence as seeing Keaton and Allen as a seminal film romance in Annie Hall, but from the moment their romance is on the cards, the film adds a surprisingly effect emotional layer. When Rick gives up Ilsa, the only thing he seems to be giving up is someone to drink champagne with (as well as someone to direct his horribly overused lines too). Allan on the other hand seems to be giving up the one gal perfect to him. Ah well, they'll always have Manhattan.
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Other musings
I recently discovered Mystery Science Theatre 3000. It is currently my sound track at work. It's surprising how well it works as a completely audible experience. There's also a strangely melancholic tone to MST3K (especially its end theme) that really reminds me of Space Quest's Roger Wilco or Futurama's Philip J Fry. Obviously I really relate to being trapped in futuristic settings.
I'm watching Gremlins II: the New Batch as I type this. This ties in with being trapped in futuristic settings. It worries me that most offices are scarily similar to the Clamp Enterprises building. On a happier note, Haviland Morris is a fox and the film is still very funny.
Gremlins II is one of the many sequels that I am better acquainted with in comparison to the original (see also: Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey, the Empire Strikes Back and Batman Returns). I had a sequel heavy childhood.
Although ignored from the above article, I have huge issues with Play It Again, Sam's direction. I would have loved to seen an in form 70s Woody Allen take it on. Oh well, maybe in another lifetime.
In non-film news...ummmmm....it was own clothes day in the office today. That's pretty remarkable right?
My Auntie and Uncle are getting married in a couple of weeks time. They've been together for at least 20 years. Bless them and their cotton socks. Do I need to buy a new suit for the occasion?
On the other hand, Play It Again, Sam is stunningly written. Incredibly inventive, witty and surprisingly emotional. I think what really stuns me is that it takes the finale from Casablanca word for word and actually gives it an emotional heart. Maybe it's just as a consequence as seeing Keaton and Allen as a seminal film romance in Annie Hall, but from the moment their romance is on the cards, the film adds a surprisingly effect emotional layer. When Rick gives up Ilsa, the only thing he seems to be giving up is someone to drink champagne with (as well as someone to direct his horribly overused lines too). Allan on the other hand seems to be giving up the one gal perfect to him. Ah well, they'll always have Manhattan.
-------------------------------------
Other musings
I recently discovered Mystery Science Theatre 3000. It is currently my sound track at work. It's surprising how well it works as a completely audible experience. There's also a strangely melancholic tone to MST3K (especially its end theme) that really reminds me of Space Quest's Roger Wilco or Futurama's Philip J Fry. Obviously I really relate to being trapped in futuristic settings.
I'm watching Gremlins II: the New Batch as I type this. This ties in with being trapped in futuristic settings. It worries me that most offices are scarily similar to the Clamp Enterprises building. On a happier note, Haviland Morris is a fox and the film is still very funny.
Gremlins II is one of the many sequels that I am better acquainted with in comparison to the original (see also: Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey, the Empire Strikes Back and Batman Returns). I had a sequel heavy childhood.
Although ignored from the above article, I have huge issues with Play It Again, Sam's direction. I would have loved to seen an in form 70s Woody Allen take it on. Oh well, maybe in another lifetime.
In non-film news...ummmmm....it was own clothes day in the office today. That's pretty remarkable right?
My Auntie and Uncle are getting married in a couple of weeks time. They've been together for at least 20 years. Bless them and their cotton socks. Do I need to buy a new suit for the occasion?
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Attempts to explain five films that inexplicably make me cry and other musings
After four years of mixed interest, I finally sat down to watch Superman Returns on the blu-ray. The disc was annoyingly scratched, disrupting the flow of opening 30 minutes (grr, bloody lovefilm, that's three out of the last five that have had sub-par maintance). Despite this, I was absolutely besotted by the first half of the film. I even got so absorbed into the nostalgic-tinged drama that I felt my eyes welling up after the baseball stadium sequence. Superman had turned his back on Earth and here he was saving the day and being warmly embraced back into the fold, as if he never left. Touching, no?
I cry in a lot of movies. I've been accused of crying too much and at some very odd films. So here is my attempt to justify some of the more recent oddities. Let's get the more explainable ones out of the way first.
1) Chico & Rita - Okay, not much to explain here. If you've ever found it plausible that someone could cry over Casablanca, then you'll understand this. This film revolves around one of those mythic cinema "meant-to-be" couples and of course, they keep getting driven apart. What makes Chico & Rita refreshing though is that the wedge this time isn't any unforeseeable evil force/villain, but instead the actions of the couple themselves.
2) Ponyo - There are three moments in this delightful children's film that thaw that icy heart o' mine. First, there is a sequence early on in which Ponyo, our underwater protagonist, in the process of escaping from her father (and his dreadful taste in fashion) makes her way to a busy coastal harbour. In her attempts to escape the oncoming boating traffic, she becomes ensnared in one of those plastic six-pack holder thingys. Yep, mild peril of the highest degree! Obviously, I was a fish in a previous life. A second escape attempt sees Ponyo, desperate to return to the shore and her new friend Sosuke, disturbs the fragile balance of the ocean, causing great waves to batter the port town in which Sosuke lives. This upsets me jsut because Ponyo is so unaware of the consequences of her actions and furthermore, the danger she is putting all of the townsfolk in. Finally, the film's conclusion makes me cry, mainly because of how final it is. Ponyo makes her choice. She can never go home in the same way again. Her relationship with her family has shifted and it is only in time that she can conclude whether this was the right choice or not.
3) Robocop/Wall-E - I'm tying these two together because they work on a similar theme. There's a moment about two thirds into Robocop, in which our titular hero, plagued by visions of his former life, returns to his former home. His family, thinking him dead (which he kinda is) have moved on and sold the house. Robocop wanders the empty hallways, confronted by his burgeoning memories. Now, although, much like Ponyo, there is an aspect of the finality of his situation (he had his perfect idyllic life and he can never get that back), I think what upsets me more is how he has loss much more than his prior life - he has lost himself. I am also a man that, not only cries like a child at the ending of Wall-E, I would have changed it so that he doesn't get his memories (ergo himself) magically back. Yes, I wanted all the kids to leave that cinema sobbing uncontrollably (to make myself look slightly less pathetic).
4) Hugo - So this one might not seem much of a surprise, but I have to stress that what makes me cry in this film isn't anything to do with plot or the emotion of the characters or anything tangibly about the film. It's just Ben Kingsley. Literally. As soon as he's on screen, the tears start following. He doesn't even have to say anything. He can stand as mute as a toenail and I'll be upset. It just seems to be his performance in this film. Crazy.
5) Moneyball - There's a montage a third into the film where Jonah Hill starts explaining sabermetrics. It's an incredibly edited sequence consisting of spreadsheets, grainy black and white photos and Jonah Hill's voice. It cuts straight to the narrative heart of the film - people judge others not by their true value, whether that be their pitching skill or their skills as a friend, but by superficial affections which result in many of us never fulfilling our potential. Life eh? It's a bitch.
--------------------------
Other musing
I recently had to (yes, had to, there was no other choice) purchase a mouse pad and some coasters. As I've just turned 24, this made me feel very old and practical, so I followed it up with a quick purchase of the complete Rocketeer comics and Heartbeats on DVD. I ranked Heartbeats as my favourite film of 2010 (I know, something beat Shutter Island, crazy). It'll be interesting if it holds up. I'm kinda worried.
I did my first review for an actual magazine. Does that mean I can refer to myself as a critic now? Do I get a critic hat?
I cry in a lot of movies. I've been accused of crying too much and at some very odd films. So here is my attempt to justify some of the more recent oddities. Let's get the more explainable ones out of the way first.
1) Chico & Rita - Okay, not much to explain here. If you've ever found it plausible that someone could cry over Casablanca, then you'll understand this. This film revolves around one of those mythic cinema "meant-to-be" couples and of course, they keep getting driven apart. What makes Chico & Rita refreshing though is that the wedge this time isn't any unforeseeable evil force/villain, but instead the actions of the couple themselves.
2) Ponyo - There are three moments in this delightful children's film that thaw that icy heart o' mine. First, there is a sequence early on in which Ponyo, our underwater protagonist, in the process of escaping from her father (and his dreadful taste in fashion) makes her way to a busy coastal harbour. In her attempts to escape the oncoming boating traffic, she becomes ensnared in one of those plastic six-pack holder thingys. Yep, mild peril of the highest degree! Obviously, I was a fish in a previous life. A second escape attempt sees Ponyo, desperate to return to the shore and her new friend Sosuke, disturbs the fragile balance of the ocean, causing great waves to batter the port town in which Sosuke lives. This upsets me jsut because Ponyo is so unaware of the consequences of her actions and furthermore, the danger she is putting all of the townsfolk in. Finally, the film's conclusion makes me cry, mainly because of how final it is. Ponyo makes her choice. She can never go home in the same way again. Her relationship with her family has shifted and it is only in time that she can conclude whether this was the right choice or not.
3) Robocop/Wall-E - I'm tying these two together because they work on a similar theme. There's a moment about two thirds into Robocop, in which our titular hero, plagued by visions of his former life, returns to his former home. His family, thinking him dead (which he kinda is) have moved on and sold the house. Robocop wanders the empty hallways, confronted by his burgeoning memories. Now, although, much like Ponyo, there is an aspect of the finality of his situation (he had his perfect idyllic life and he can never get that back), I think what upsets me more is how he has loss much more than his prior life - he has lost himself. I am also a man that, not only cries like a child at the ending of Wall-E, I would have changed it so that he doesn't get his memories (ergo himself) magically back. Yes, I wanted all the kids to leave that cinema sobbing uncontrollably (to make myself look slightly less pathetic).
4) Hugo - So this one might not seem much of a surprise, but I have to stress that what makes me cry in this film isn't anything to do with plot or the emotion of the characters or anything tangibly about the film. It's just Ben Kingsley. Literally. As soon as he's on screen, the tears start following. He doesn't even have to say anything. He can stand as mute as a toenail and I'll be upset. It just seems to be his performance in this film. Crazy.
5) Moneyball - There's a montage a third into the film where Jonah Hill starts explaining sabermetrics. It's an incredibly edited sequence consisting of spreadsheets, grainy black and white photos and Jonah Hill's voice. It cuts straight to the narrative heart of the film - people judge others not by their true value, whether that be their pitching skill or their skills as a friend, but by superficial affections which result in many of us never fulfilling our potential. Life eh? It's a bitch.
--------------------------
Other musing
I recently had to (yes, had to, there was no other choice) purchase a mouse pad and some coasters. As I've just turned 24, this made me feel very old and practical, so I followed it up with a quick purchase of the complete Rocketeer comics and Heartbeats on DVD. I ranked Heartbeats as my favourite film of 2010 (I know, something beat Shutter Island, crazy). It'll be interesting if it holds up. I'm kinda worried.
I did my first review for an actual magazine. Does that mean I can refer to myself as a critic now? Do I get a critic hat?
Friday, March 9, 2012
There are eight million stories in the naked city he romanticized all out of proportion and other musings
New York. The Big Apple. The Naked City. The City That Never Sleeps. Gotham. The Capital of the World. The City So Nice, They Named It Twice. I've never been, but I know a few people that have, so it must exist in the real world and not just on movie sets across the world. New York has been well represented in and well treated by Hollywood over the years. Make a list of your top 10 films. Go ahead, I'll wait. I'd wager good (as opposed to morally rehensible) money that New York is featured at least once in that list. How could it not be? Sweet Smell of Success, Ghostbusters, All About Eve, On the Waterfront, Marty, the Apartment, Rosemary's Baby, Midnight Cowboy, Do The Right Thing, the French Connection, Dog Day Afternoon, King Kong, Once Upon a Time in America, When Harry Met Sally, Metropolitan, the Fisher King, Eyes Wide Shut, the œuvres of Woody Allen and Martin Scorsese, and, spoilers ahoy, Planet of the Apes. And that's just scratching the surface. Some of these films are merely set with the five boroughs as a backdrop, others represent the city as its own character.
As a kid, I fell in love with the architecture and feel of New York through Ghostbusters. To this day, I still have a yearning to climb those steps and visit the New York Public Library (which I intend to do in November, touch wood). Film is definitely a medium that idealises many aspects of life, whether it be locations, emotions or situations (both tragic and comedic). Most films do this implicitly, seemingly unaware of their actions or their consequences, but one of my favourite films confronts this head on and also happens to be one of the greatest New York movies of all time; Woody Allen's Manhattan.
There's much going on in Allen's love letter to the town that raised him, especially when pontificating on constant battle between anticipated and realised states in love. However, most of the later scenes in this film are forgotten in favourite for the tour de force that is the opening montage. Voice over is a tricky commodity. It's a particularly delicate tool in a filmmaker's bag. When it goes well, it goes so far in making a film distinctive and successful, (though more recent examples seem to have a comedic presence attached; see Adaptation, Goodfellas, the Big Lebowski). Never has been more apparent to me than watching Jules Dassin's Naked City.
My housemates have been away on holiday this week, so I've been taking advantage of the incredibly quick internet connection in the kitchen by watching high quality streamed films via my film rental service of choice. I've been getting home from work, doing a bit of tidying, doing a bit of study, having tea and sticking something on the old PS3 streaming do'hicky. On Wednesday, I queued up Naked City. I was shocked. The opening sequence was, albeit less successful, riffing on the some of the same ideas as the introductory shots to Manhattan.
The strength of the introduction to Manhattan is how multifaceted it is. Primarily, it acts at a superficial level to introduce us to the setting and the main character, Woody Allen's affected writer Isaac. Context also allows us to extrapolate that Isaac (and therefore by proxy, Woody) is writing autobiographically about his feelings toward New York, all the while providing us with vibrant visuals and music. It's hard not to romanticize New York out of all proportion when presented with a backdrop like that. Furthermore, it introduces us to some of the themes of the film - the gap between expectation and reality, acting according to how one feels as opposed to how one is expected to feel. All that, plus it's funny as well. It's an invigorating sequence made all the better by how well its various aspects work together in unity.
Naked City could not be further from this. Its biggest problem is how disjointed it is. As Jules Dassin would further prove with Rififi, he was a great visual storyteller. There is a completely silent, 33 minute long heist sequence at the heart of Rififi which I can't praise enough. The same sort of visual panache is evident throughout Naked City, in fact, I'd go so far to say that it is visually one of the most consistently high quality films out there. So what's the problem? Well, much like Manhattan, we are presented with a montage of images highlight the different walks of life present in New York, the energy, the sights. Also like Manhattan, there's a voice over. This voice over is one of the most ill-judged and flat out confusing aspects of a film I have seen since Quentin Tarantino being cast in, well, anything.
The narration is presented in an odd, almost Rod Serling manner by producer Mark Hellinger. He tells us who he is, names the players involved, generally acts as a title sequence. The whole thing has a 'you've not seen anything like this folks', PT Barnum showman vibe as it opens, but as it continues, it just becomes more baffling. It starts telling you exactly what you're seeing on screen. First, if you've started watching a film, do you really need someone in the film telling you how good it is? No, that's the job of the promotional material, the film should just be concerned with being good. Secondly, as I've mentioned above, Dassin (and his Oscar winning DP William H. Daniels) know how to construct a story visually. All the information that Hellinger provides, we've already seen. It doesn't require any further pointing out. The whole thing is hokey and redundant. My only hypothesis is that, given that Hellinger died during the post production, the voice over acted as a tribute to a man they enjoyed working with. Unfortunately, it near derails this beautiful example of 40s noir.
-----------------
Other musings
One of my friends has traded his car in for a disused taxi. I can't think of anything worth sharing more than that.
As a kid, I fell in love with the architecture and feel of New York through Ghostbusters. To this day, I still have a yearning to climb those steps and visit the New York Public Library (which I intend to do in November, touch wood). Film is definitely a medium that idealises many aspects of life, whether it be locations, emotions or situations (both tragic and comedic). Most films do this implicitly, seemingly unaware of their actions or their consequences, but one of my favourite films confronts this head on and also happens to be one of the greatest New York movies of all time; Woody Allen's Manhattan.
There's much going on in Allen's love letter to the town that raised him, especially when pontificating on constant battle between anticipated and realised states in love. However, most of the later scenes in this film are forgotten in favourite for the tour de force that is the opening montage. Voice over is a tricky commodity. It's a particularly delicate tool in a filmmaker's bag. When it goes well, it goes so far in making a film distinctive and successful, (though more recent examples seem to have a comedic presence attached; see Adaptation, Goodfellas, the Big Lebowski). Never has been more apparent to me than watching Jules Dassin's Naked City.
My housemates have been away on holiday this week, so I've been taking advantage of the incredibly quick internet connection in the kitchen by watching high quality streamed films via my film rental service of choice. I've been getting home from work, doing a bit of tidying, doing a bit of study, having tea and sticking something on the old PS3 streaming do'hicky. On Wednesday, I queued up Naked City. I was shocked. The opening sequence was, albeit less successful, riffing on the some of the same ideas as the introductory shots to Manhattan.
The strength of the introduction to Manhattan is how multifaceted it is. Primarily, it acts at a superficial level to introduce us to the setting and the main character, Woody Allen's affected writer Isaac. Context also allows us to extrapolate that Isaac (and therefore by proxy, Woody) is writing autobiographically about his feelings toward New York, all the while providing us with vibrant visuals and music. It's hard not to romanticize New York out of all proportion when presented with a backdrop like that. Furthermore, it introduces us to some of the themes of the film - the gap between expectation and reality, acting according to how one feels as opposed to how one is expected to feel. All that, plus it's funny as well. It's an invigorating sequence made all the better by how well its various aspects work together in unity.
Naked City could not be further from this. Its biggest problem is how disjointed it is. As Jules Dassin would further prove with Rififi, he was a great visual storyteller. There is a completely silent, 33 minute long heist sequence at the heart of Rififi which I can't praise enough. The same sort of visual panache is evident throughout Naked City, in fact, I'd go so far to say that it is visually one of the most consistently high quality films out there. So what's the problem? Well, much like Manhattan, we are presented with a montage of images highlight the different walks of life present in New York, the energy, the sights. Also like Manhattan, there's a voice over. This voice over is one of the most ill-judged and flat out confusing aspects of a film I have seen since Quentin Tarantino being cast in, well, anything.
The narration is presented in an odd, almost Rod Serling manner by producer Mark Hellinger. He tells us who he is, names the players involved, generally acts as a title sequence. The whole thing has a 'you've not seen anything like this folks', PT Barnum showman vibe as it opens, but as it continues, it just becomes more baffling. It starts telling you exactly what you're seeing on screen. First, if you've started watching a film, do you really need someone in the film telling you how good it is? No, that's the job of the promotional material, the film should just be concerned with being good. Secondly, as I've mentioned above, Dassin (and his Oscar winning DP William H. Daniels) know how to construct a story visually. All the information that Hellinger provides, we've already seen. It doesn't require any further pointing out. The whole thing is hokey and redundant. My only hypothesis is that, given that Hellinger died during the post production, the voice over acted as a tribute to a man they enjoyed working with. Unfortunately, it near derails this beautiful example of 40s noir.
-----------------
Other musings
One of my friends has traded his car in for a disused taxi. I can't think of anything worth sharing more than that.
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