Hostel: The Problems with American Horror Cinema

Hostel is a movie that received a lot of the same criticisms that have been launched at 'Asia Extreme' filmmakers like Chanwook Park, Takashi Miike and Kim Ki-Duk. There's certainly superficial similarities between their films, with the heavy use of extreme violence and torture within the plots. Miike even turns up for a cameo in Hostel, which is what prompted me to watch the film in the first place. I also watched it because I'd heard a lot about the similarities with these Asian filmmakers and I thought maybe I was wrong in dismissing the film as horror schlock, perhaps that was just the same ignorant critics who dismiss the best of Asia. It's not, this film is pure horror schlock and it makes clear what separates mainstream American horror films from similarly themed Asian films. And, as with many things I write about here, it's the total embrace of pop! in Asian films.

Watching Hostel, I was actually surprised by how restrained the violence was. The buzz I heard indicated it was an absolutely sadistic nonstop progression of gore. That's not really the case, the first half is all setup and when we do get to the violence, it's nasty, but not particularly disturbing. Yeah, the eye getting cut out was really nasty, as was the slitting of the heel, but it's nasty on a superficial level. I felt more aware of it as a nasty makeup effect than as something the characters were actually feeling.

That's largely because the characters just weren't particularly interesting. I think Roth did a good job of capturing the way some people speak, but that's not quite enough to make them interesting. I suppose the point of the film was to comment on American arrogance, the idea that they're there not for culture, just to fuck some European chicks. And, of course, they end up getting fucked themselves. I was actually waiting for one of them to be raped, I feel like that would have been a more fitting reversal of roles. But, instead we get the torture and death sequences.

My big issue with the lengthy buildup to the torture stuff is that the characters don't ever feel real. In most American horror movies, there's a buildup to the scares rather than actual character development. There's some attempts here, and I suppose it could work for some people, but these guys never felt like anything more than caricatures to me. Now, there are real people like them, but we never get to know them beneath the surface. They each seem to have a characteristic and they act according to that characteristic. That means that we don't particularly care about them when they get caught up in the bad stuff that happens towards the end. Compare this to a similar torture scene in Casino Royale, where there's actual concern about what's happening to Bond.

In general, one of my big problems with horror movies is the fact that they're designed to scare you. This movie wasn't anywhere near as bad as something like The Grudge, which had something pop out and make a loud noise every couple of minutes just to keep you scared. The two genres that horror most resembles are comedy and porn. All of these genres are based around creating a base reaction. If people laugh, a comedy is successful. If people are scared, the horror movie is successful, right? Well, I don't think that's true. The problem with a lot of horror and comedy films, and I suppose porn too, is that the producers go for that base reaction rather than trying to tell a good story/make a good film. Comedy's a lot more funny if it's about someone you know, that's why Buffy is one of the funniest shows on TV, we know the characters so well, stuff that would be marginally funny with strangers is riotous with the Buffy gang. It's the same with horror, Six Feet Under's "That's My Dog" is one of the scariest things I've seen because it's happening to someone we know. Would the story be as effective as a standalone film? I don't think so.

In an hour and a half film, it's obviously tough to make us care about the characters, but I never got past the sense that these characters were developed as an obligation rather than out of real passion for their arc. Now, I will agree that these people at least have personalities, unlike most American horror characters.

So, the film wasn't great, but it was competent and entertaining. However, the ending left me with a really bad feeling. I'm not sure if it's meant to be a "Hell yeah" moment when Paxton kills the guy, that seems to be what the film is saying, but for me, it felt like he'd become just as bad as the people he fled from. This seems to contradict the character we'd seen for the rest of the film.

Takashi Miike appears in the film, in a quick cameo, and I think comparing his films with this one reveal a lot of what makes his cinema more entertaining and more genuinely terrifying. Miike's films take a wide variety of approaches to the horror genre. Audition is a film that, like Hostel, was hailed for its nastiness. What's surprising when watching it is the way the first half of film plays really well as straight drama. We care about the guy and are caught up in his story. He doesn't feel like his story takes place in a horror movie universe, and that makes it all the scarier when things go crazy at the end. Miike's filmmaking there is confounding and challenging, an art cinema approach, where the presentation is as important as the violence that's being presented. So, Audition is a good movie that just happens to have some nasty stuff in it.

This is a difference from American horror movies, where they all seem to take place in a horror movie universe. In the real world, a guy following you down the street at night can be scary, in a horror movie, not so much, because you're expecting things to go bad. The genre dictates the rules of the world, and there, a man following you down the street is pretty tame compared to what we've seen before. A similar problem occurs in romantic comedy, where you see two characters arguing and instantly know they're going to wind up together.

Ichi The Killer takes a different approach, going absurdly over the top with pop excess. This is a movie where there's such joy taken in depicting the violence, you enjoy it as black comedy as much as horror. Evil Dead II takes a similar tact, embracing the absurdity of what's happening. I think Ichi is still scary in the same way that Hostel is, but rather than having moments of horror and moments of quiet, the entire film is a world of bizarre horror. That's what Inland Empire does too, raise the stakes, make the entire second half frightening, rather than doing the traditional scare beats we see here in Hostel.

A lot of the torture horror genre is influenced from Asia, the pinnacle of which was Oldboy. Oldboy has a lot of surface similarities with Hostel, but it works much better because it taps into much deeper emotions. Oh Daesu experiences really awful things, and we have a better understanding of why he's doing what he does. The violence is still very nasty, but it's used to illustrate character, rather than having the character be an excuse for the violence. Having him cut out his tongue is disturbing, but it's as much because of what it means for the character as it is for the nastiness of the act itself.

And on a filmmaking level, Park uses the film as a chance to indulge in stylistic excess, with music and shots pushing everything to an incredible, baroque level. Hostel never ascends in this same way, the shots are fairly conventional and the music isn't used for anything but typical scare beats. I did like the use of 'How Do' from The Wicker Man, but other than that, nothing stood out. The shots weren't interesting, the most horrific moments in film, such as Irreversible, use the shots to maximize audience involvement. Here, the shots remained aloof, keeping us distanced from the characters' pain. If you want to make truly horrifying cinema, look to the swirling camera, pounding soundtrack and degraded mise en scene of Irreversible's Rectum sequence.

And that scene is part of a brilliant film. Hostel doesn't try to be anything more than a good horror movie, it may acheive that, but he never reaches the operatic heights of his Asian idols, who know that narrative has its place, but the unique power of film is in using stylistic flair to engage the audience.

Rocky Balboa

I was a fan of the Rocky films when I was younger. They always used to air on Channel 11 here in New York, and to this day, I don't think I've ever seen the full versions of Rocky II or V, only the TV edit. The promo for Rocky V, with him dramatically proclaiming he would go "One more round!" was much quoted in my circle. But, I hadn't seen any of the films in a while and was neutral on this new Rocky movie. After seeing it, I think Stallone completely pulled it off, making exactly the film he wanted to make and bringing some dignity back to the series after the ridiculousness of the last few films.

The first Rocky worked because it was a classic underdog story, later films tried to raise the stake to keep Rocky an underdog, but when a guy has his own robot and a mansion, it's a lot harder to relate to him as an everyman. I feel like the motivation behind this film is similar to what Brian Singer was trying to do with Superman Returns, forget about the bad sequels and get back to the core of what the character was about. That works better here because nostalgia is placed at the center of the storyline. In Superman, the characters didn't feel like people who had been through a painful five year separation, they looked even younger than the people in the original. And, the original just wasn't a good enough movie to earn this massive budget homage.

Rocky Balboa works better because it gives the viewer all the emotional beats they would want from a Rocky film. The movies had been refined into a formula, but this one manages to make all those old beats fresh by giving Rocky a major uphill climb. For one, Adrian's death still haunts him, her image is all over the film and the first half is basically about him slowly withering away, lost in the past. He's still comfortable, the restaurant seems to be doing well, but he's back on the street. I feel like Rocky V was trying to recapture that grit with the streetfight stuff, but it didn't really work. Here, the slow pace of the first half does a great job of letting us know where this character is now.

Certainly Stallone will never be hailed as a chameleonic actor, but no one could play this role like him. The barely sub-text of the film is the equation of Rocky's comeback with Stallone's own comeback in making the film. Every speech where Rocky talks about how he may be old, but he's still got a fire could apply equally to Stallone and his desire to get this film made. The real life parallels give the film more emotional meaning, and as the film does succeed, you're rooting on Stallone the filmmaker much like you're rooting for Rocky the character.

It's a risky move to have the first half be pretty much devoid of action, but it works. We're made to care about the characters again, and that makes the fight emotionally involving. The fight becomes more than about just winning in the ring, it's about proving himself worthy of the chance to fight again.

I enjoyed the first half, but the film really took off with the training montage. It's become a much parodied cliche since the first film was released, but it still works. Hearing that theme song, with new soaring trumpet improvs, and watching Rocky train was a really well executed sequence.

The major thing that bothered me about the fight was the ridiculous amount of product placement. They make a joke about it earlier with Paulie, but still, I'm hoping someone got paid by Golden Palace. Also, having the TV footage didn't work so well, it's much better to stay in the reality of the fight, using the announcers to narrate, but not using actual TV titles.

Other than that, the fight was well done. I like that Dixon has a hand injury, making it at least somewhat plausible that Rocky would be able to fight him. They set up the fact that he didn't have the 'heart' to fight a truly great boxer, but if he's had thirty-three knockouts, you'd think he'd be able to handle an old guy. But, it felt credible, and that's what mattered. Throughout the fight, there's a bunch of interesting stylistic devices used. Some felt a bit gimmicky, but it worked on the whole, immersing you in Rocky's subjective view of what was happening. It may not be the most original filmmaking, but I was thoroughly caught up in what was happening and thrilled when Rocky did get back up in the final round.

Throughout, the score was great. It's a very classical style score, commenting directly on scenes, with variations of the main theme. In scoring movies, a theme is your best friend. In this movie, you put the theme song on anything and it's instantly a great scene. I'm not sure why recent movies like Spider-Man refuse to build a credible theme song for the hero. Maybe it's cheap, but in a movie like this, the goal is to involve you emotionally and it's best to use whatever tools are available to you. Perhaps the best musical moment was the return of the end of fight music, setting up the great finale, a final farewell to the character.

Yes, there's some cheesy moments in here. If you didn't like the first Rocky, I doubt you'll enjoy this movie, but if you have affection for the character, this will give you exactly what you'd want from a Rocky movie. By directly engaging with the fact that it's ridiculous to make another Rocky movie, Stallone succeeds in making a film that proves that there is still another great film in the character, and in the man himself.

Kim Ki-Duk's Time

Kim Ki-Duk is one of the most consistently interesting filmmakers working today, creating movies that all inhabit a universe of their own, a universe he's been building over ten years of filmmaking. Typically, his films feature a minimum of dialogue, and center around prostitutes and/or water. Time represents a departure from some of these trademark themes, the characters talk quite a bit and though there is some water, there's no prostitutes. Time is a more conventional film than his previous works, taking on aspects of conventional thrillers rather than the discomforting bizarreness of his other works. I think that makes it an easier film to watch, but one that is less consistent in achieving the odd magic only he is capable of.

For me, the film's opening chunk is the most problematic. Kim Ki-Duk is frequently accused of making misogynistic films, a criticism that I would generally consider widely off base. The exploration of women in 3-Iron or Samaritan Girl is nuanced and emotionally true. Yes, he puts his female characters through some awful ordeals, but so did Douglas Sirk, and he's hailed as one of the finest directors of female characters. In 3-Iron or Samaritan Girl, we're made to understand why the women are suffering, and we experience the moments of violence that they undergo right with them.

What makes this opening troubling is that Seh-Hee's motivation is completely irrational. She winds up seeming shrill and unsympathetic. Watching this through, I was troubled by the lack of shading in her character. We are meant to consider this behavior ridiculous, and the end of the film demonstrates that Seh-Hee is now aware of how ridiculous what she did was. However, that growth doesn't excuse her irrationality in that moment. Considering the whole film hinges on this, I think it would have been possible to treat her jealousy in a more rational way.

Like a lot of Kim-Ki Duk films, this has a dual perspective structure. We follow Ji-Woo for the first half of the film, his struggle to deal with Seh-Hee's sudden disappearance. The film is designed to show that the love Seh-Hee and Ji-Woo had was great, giving them both exactly what they needed. In the moments where they're together, there is happiness. Outside, they are unable to find that same connection with anyone else, and yet, through their fear of losing each other, they wind up destroying their relationship.

Ji-Woo's journey into the dating world reinforces the superficiality he feels trying to be with anyone but Seh-Hee. His love for her creates a deep guilt about seeing anyone else, and his attempts to actually be with anyone only spiral into worse and worse situations. I'm not sure if the broken glass in the hotel is actually caused by Seh-Hee, that doesn't matter so much. In Kim's films, character psychology is reflected in the conditions of the physical world, so his guilt about being with someone other than Seh-Hee is made physical through the breaking glass. Something similar happens later when Seh-Hee goes to the man's apartment and find a whole bunch of evidence to lead her to belive it's Ji-Woo, the world reflects her desires.

By this point, Seh-Hee has given herself quite a conundrum, she is competing with herself for Ji-Woo's affections. She has a wonderful time with him at the sculpture park, but he remains tied to Seh-Hee. I'm not sure what she wants him to say when she asks what he'd do if Seh-Hee came back? Does she want him to say she's over the old her, fully in love with the new one, or would that in fact validate the very fears that motivated her to get plastic surgery in the first place? Basically, neither answer is good and there's no way for her to be happy, because telling the truth would make Ji-Woo think she's insane.

And that's what happens in the fabulously bizarre scene where Seh-Hee goes to see him with the mask on. That mask was very freaky, the sort of lo-fi, but deeply disturbing scare that Lynch put to great use in Inland Empire. This film is the turning point of the film, where our perspective switches from Ji-Woo's to Seh-Hee's. The parallel structure is nice, with Seh-Hee now forced to experience the same frustration and uncertainty that Ji-Woo did in the film's first half. I'm not sure why he chose to get surgery, I suppose it's primarily to punish her for what she did. At this point, Ji-Woo disappears from the story and we experience Seh-Hee's pain. Here, Seh-Hee sees the folly of her plan, she condemned Ji-Woo for looking at some women, but now she looks at every man, thinking that they could be the one she loves.

Visually, the film is less expressive than Kim's best work, his films about mute characters require incredible visuals to tell the story, here dialogue does more of the work. That said, there are still some great moments. I love Seh-Hee sitting on the hand, just above water, as well as when she lies down next to the statue.

The whole story leads up to a horrific act of violence. In Kim's films, violence is frequently the only means through which characters can express their emotions. Here, the death of someone who might be Ji-Woo indicates to Seh-Hee the full folly of what she did. She so despises herself, she again seeks to escape into the anonymity of a new identity.

This leads us back to the film's beginning, in a seemingly illogical narrative loop. How could Seh-Hee bump into herself from the future? I would aruge this, like many Kim conclusions, makes sense from a psychological perspective, not a literal one. Earlier, when Seh-Hee sits down at a man's table, she seems to initiate a similar loop as the one that led to her own plastic surgery. So, jealousy becomes a vicious cycle, perpetuating itself ad infinitum. She bumps into her future self, setting up the idea of plastic surgery in the first place.

Ultimately, the film is saying that plastic surgery doesn't change anything. Because the same person is underneath, we'll still be trapped in the same behavioral loops. The ending makes this literal, she can change her appearance, completely dissolve her identity, but she can't change the person inside.

I think there's parts of this film that are very effective, but as I said before, it doesn't match up with the best of Kim Ki-Duk's work, which taps into a raw emotional power that's very rare in cinema. But, he can only make the same movie so many times, so it's good to see him moving beyond his trademark obsessions and expanding his narrative universe.

Inland Empire: The Second Viewing

I did a pretty massive writeup on the film after seeing it for the first time, but after a second viewing last night, things are a lot clearer and I think I can fill in some of the gaps lacking in my original analysis.

More generally, I'll just say that this film is not as hard to get as people make it out to be. It's not an abstract bunch of random scenes, though you could just read it on that level and enjoy it that way. The quote I'd apply to this film is "If everything means something, everything means nothing." You could read every single element as a piece of a carefully constructed narrative world, comprehensible with thorough analysis. Or you could just read it as a message from Lynch's subconscious, given meaning only by what we see in it, not from anything inherent in the film itself. Watching it again, it's clear that things are structued in a specific way and you can find meaning in the film.

I said it back when the film first screened, but I'd imagine Lost Highway and even Mulholland Dr. must have seemed completely incomprehensible to the first bunch of viewers. It was only through critical work that a consesus emerged that helped people to understand the movies. This film is the same way, initially critics are puzzled, but as more people see the film, particularly on repeat viewings, it will become more and more clear. I don't think the film will ever be as accessible as Mulholland Dr., but it will be easier to watch and understand. I got a much clearer view of everything the second time through, and it felt much more cohesive, less random, less schizophrenic.

The critical element I missed on my first viewing of the film was 'The Phantom.' Struggling to keep track of who was who, I didn't follow this guy through the movie, and it turns out that he's one of the critical figures. The Phantom follows in the tradition of BOB or the Mystery Man, a figure with some kind of extradimensional power, an embodiment of evil itself who menaces our heroine. Nikki first discusses The Phantom in one of her monologues, she also mentions that he has a sister who has one leg, a figure we'll see crop up later in the film.

I would argue that The Phantom is the 'ghost in the machine' of the Blue Tomorrows story, he's the one perpetuating the curse and destroying everyone who comes into contact with the script. He draws them into the world of the story and imprisons them there. For the Polish Woman, this is literal, she is trapped in Room 47, and I believe 47 was the name of the original Polish script. Nikki's imprisonment is not so literal, she is not trapped in a room, she is trapped in the world of the character, unable to escape and return to her own life. As the movie goes on, things get worse and worse for the character, her initial love affair with Billy goes bad when he rejects her from his house.

It's difficult to figure out how the film works because everyone is playing different characters, and there's a lot of blurring with dreamlogic. However, one thing I didn't catch on the first viewing was the fact that Julia Ormond played Billy's wife. So, at the end of the film when she stabs Sue, it could be that she'd gone insane after hearing about the affair, and driven to kill Sue for that reason. So, the scene at the police station could actually take place after the stabbing. Or, it could be that she went insane, checked into psychiatric counseling, broke out, then stabbed Sue. Alternatively, she could reflect Sue's guilt about having an affair with Billy in the first place.

'Blue Tomorrows' is clearly a melodrama, so it would make sense that the affair within would go wrong and lead to destruction for all people involved. In the Polish story, we see that Julia Ormond has stabbed someone, possibly the main Polish woman, though I'm not sure about that. The whole middle section of the film takes place within the universe of the film, something that I think is critical to understanding what happens there. Sue's affair with Billy made her pregnant and that caused her the problems with her husband. Julia Ormond stabs her where she does precisely because it will kill her child. As a side note, I absolutely love Dern's performance in the street scenes, so incredibly raw.

This street scene is meant to parallel the opening scene with the Polish woman reduced to prostitution. In both cases, the women cheat on their husbands and are made to feel like whores. Their guilt winds up driving them to actual prostitution. I feel like the gang of girls hanging around with Laura Dern are her conscience, embodying her fear of what she's becoming. They also have access to some kind of supernatural energy, the only ones to cross between the Polish storyverse and the American storyverse.

Throughout the film, we see scenes from the Polish version of the film, a parallel universe version of the events with Sue. If you look at them that way, it's much easier to understand what's going on because it's one story, just split between the two characters. However, there's still one scene that's somewhat perplexing, the 'seance' scene. Here, the husband goes to a bunch of people and they seem to channel his wife. I would argue that this is her real husband, seeking his lost wife, he hears her, but cannot make contact. In the real world, the husband does love the Polish woman, as evidenced by their loving embrace at the end. So, this scene may take place in a reality where he's trying to save her from imprisonment in Room 47.

This leads us to the Phantom. As I said before, he is the malevolent force that locks our heroines in the destructive loop of the story world. There's a very fairy tale feel about the idea of the cursed story, like this guy has put this script out there to entrap people in a spiral of suffering and evil. Perhaps he is like the Man from Another Place in FWWM, getting nourishment from the Garmonbozia (pain and suffering) of others. Certainly this script puts the main characters through an awful lot of pain and suffering.

We see The Phantom in a number of scenes, generally moving through the background, but his most critical appearance is near the end. After Sue 'dies,' Nikki returns to the filmset, but she still seems possessed by Sue. She wanders into the theater, where she watches herself projected on the screen. Here, she is confronted with the fact that despite the director calling cut, she remains trapped in the world of Blue Tomorrows, perpetually locked on the screen, unable to return to her own life. This is a state parallel to the Polish Woman.

She moves through some hallways, gets her husband's gun, then goes out and encounters The Phantom. She shoots at him, then, in perhaps the most horrifying moment in any film ever, he stares back at her with a grotesque version of her face. I don't know what it is about that image but it's very, very disturbing. After this, she shoots him again and seemingly blows a whole in his face, at which point he is defeated and we go to a beautiful shot of a purple burst of light suspended in darkness.

Watching this movie again, I was wowed by the photography. The first half hour is a little shaky, but after that, this is absolutely beautiful. The closeups on digital have a clarity and urgency that just isn't present in film. I think we're so used to the textures of film it lost the magic, and the rawness of this DV brings back some of that mystery. It is a striking, and yes, beautiful, film.

So, her defeat of the Phantom frees her from the spell of the cursed movie. Nikki wanders into Room 47 and frees the Polish Woman from her imprisonment. I feel like Nikki is transferring the freedom she received to the Polish Woman through that kiss. And, side note, why can't the Polish Woman have a name? Does anyone know if she does? After being freed, they both are able to return to their homelives, and much like Blue Velvet, the good feels that much better after an excursion into possible darkness. This is a return to optimism after the only hope in death finales of FWWM, LH and MD. I love the way Laura Dern looks at the couch and now sees a pure, idealized version of herself, rather than the utterly broken, dirty one she turned into over the course of the film. Her performance here is on a whole different level from most cinema acting.

To summarize, Nikki is an actress who signs on to appear in a film that is cursed. As she works on the film, she gets caught up in its spell and finds herself trapped in the characters' life, forced to endure a spiralling series of awful experiences. Concurrent with this, a Polish woman has reached the end of the spiral, and is trapped in a hotel room, crying, thinking about what she's lost. Nikki, as Sue, goes through a symbolic death, and the film's story ends. Yet, she remains trapped in that world. She confronts The Phantom, the extradimensional being responsible for the evil in the story, and kills him, thus freeing herself and the Polish Woman to return to their lives.

This leads us into the bravura end credits sequence, one of the most fun scenes in any Lynch film, and also one with some tie backs to what happened previously. Earlier in the film, Sue, in her monologue, said that The Phantom had a sister with one leg. That is the woman we see at the end, who says sweet. Earlier in the film, one of the girls says "Sweet," I would argue that indicates that both the girls and the woman are extradimensional beings, only these ones are not devoted to evil, as the Phantom is. In Twin Peaks, we see a number of characters who just seem to exist, not serve good or evil specifically. The girls cannot help Laura Dern, rather than they convey messages, much like The Man From Another Place or the Giant.

The woman with one leg is clearly tied to the blue haired woman from Mulholland Dr., both stating a word to close out the film. My reading of the final word is that after all the awfulness, Laura Dern's character is just happy to be in this world, all she can say is "sweet."

From there we go over to a woman in a blonde wig with a monkey, this is Niko, the woman referenced earlier in the Asian girl's monologue. Is this monkey the same one seen in FWWM? Do they exist in the same extradimensional universe? It's quite possible, I would argue that this scene takes place in a world like the red room, that is why the Laura Dern we see is dressed in the pure, ethereal dress, it is a moment of transcendence beyond the concerns of mortality. I don't think she's died, rather I think she's experiencing a moment of happiness after her great ordeal. There, Niko can exist as this star idea, rather than as who she actually is. Niko is basically doing the same thing that Diane did in creating Betty in Mulholland Dr., making a successful, happy alter ego to cover up her actual painful existence.

I really love Laura Haring's appearance here. It's so clearly just a bonus for Lynch fans, and that's what makes it great. This scene is just an excess of cool stuff, and her expression is great when she blows kisses to Laura Dern and Nastassja Kinski. The hopping monkey with strobe light is pure Lynch, and one could argue both he and the carpenter tie in with the extradimensional characters of FWWM. Plus, that song just tears it up for the finale, say what you will about the previous three hours, that last minute, where the song goes very quiet, then comes back for the climactic ending with the camera tracking back from Laura Dern through the singers is a great final moment. And, even after three hours, I was wishing the film would just keep going. It's such a wonderful world to get lost in, I didn't want it to end.

So, that's what I got out of the second viewing. Let me now address a couple of points from the comments on my first post.

One thing that seemed like a major detail is the element of "evil being born" and "a murder", indicated by the "new neighbor" lady in the beginning. Later on we find out that the Polish woman's son perhaps died. I'm thinking maybe his premature death was the result of an abortion, since we see the screwdriver being plunged into Sue's stomach as well as Julia Ormond's character. We also have the image of the woman in the dress(I couldn't really tell who it was) lying on the floor with her mid-section ripped open.

I really wish there was a transcript of Grace's speech, I listened closely, but there's so much in the film, it's tough to remember exactly. I suppose the boy who goes out and brings evil could be The Phantom. He would seem to be the source of all evil in the film, and that sort of supernatural birth would be fitting.

As for the son's death, that death happens in the storyworld, in real life her son is fine. So, I would agree that it's likely an abortion, or perhaps her husband beating her forced her to have a miscarriage. Sue also lost her son, which goes along with what I'd mentioned in my original review, that Nikki seems to tap into something in the Polish Woman's actual life through this script. The Polish Woman actually seems to live in the house that Laura Dern inhabited as Sue. In the case of the Polish Woman, her actual life seems to have much more in common with her role in the film. I'll need another viewing to figure that out exactly though, I feel like it's definitely there, I just need to see how the scenes are structured again

I think the critical thing is that both of their experiences represent their worst fears. For Nikki, it's that her cheating with Devon will ruin her marriage and plunge her into poverty and prostitution. She seems to lack confidence in her own ability to be a successful actress, and that's likely why she married such a wealthy man. If he rejects her, she loses the security and her fear is she'll wind up out on the street. This also ties in to her fear of being a whore, if she did marry for money, she would already see herself as a kind of whore, and that's why she imagines herself hanging out with those girls.

For the Polish woman, the great fear is being separated from her husband and child. She sees her cheating, forced upon her by the script, separating her from him, leading to the death of her son and sexual enslavement in Room 47. However, she is ultimately freed from that entrapment and returns to her family.

As for the identity of the woman on the floor, I'm not sure, I'll have to look out for that on the next viewing.

It's my thought that the Japanese homeless woman is speaking about herself - or herself in a symbiosis with the Dying Degraded Sue - much like the Julia Ormond character with a screwdriver sticking out of her gut was speaking, irrationally, of herself - or of herself in a dying and involuntary symbiosis with and invisible and God-likely powerful Nikki Grace.

There's certainly parallels between Nikki/Sue and Niko. I think it again is about Sue/Nikki having to confront her own worst fears, the idea that she was just putting on this role of a movie star, like Niko wears the wig, when in reality both of them are dying whores. The screwdriver in her gut would tie in with the hole in Niko's vagina. If we read it as Julia Ormond targetting her uterus, both Nikki/Sue and Niko would lose their ability to have children, and the possibility to find the domestic bliss that Lynch's characters seek. I'm not sure if the Japanese woman herself experiences this, it's unclear why she's sitting out on the street, though if she is homeless, then that would tie in with Sue's ultimate fear. In both this film and Mulholland Dr., Lynch uses homelessness as the worst fate for actresses, to be completely spit out the system and wind up a bum on the street.

Ultimately, all the women in the film seem to be on a spiral towards the streets, where they find prostitution and death. This is likely a result of the Phantom's influence, by destroying him, she frees all of them from that spell. And the Japanese woman is definitely a part of this.

There's so much in this film, if you've seen it, definitely comment, I'd love to discuss it more and expand more on exactly what Lynch is doing.

Battlestar Issues

Started from this Barbelith Post

For me, the two best things the show's done are the miniseries and the New Caprica arc, and the rest of the episodes have always been somewhat inconsistent. I really liked the first season, but it had a bunch of weak episodes, and not until the season finale did they reach the level of the miniseries again.

What made the miniseries and New Caprica so great was the extreme odds against our characters. The show has been very reluctant to play out negative consequences for its people. There's changes, but seemingly there's always an attempt to bring us back the old status quo. This means that there's not that much tension in the standalone episodes, or even the cliffhangers. I didn't find it particularly egregious to show the result of the cliffhanger in the promo because this isn't the kind of show that has the courage to put the main characters in real danger.

Compare that to something like 24, where there's a lot of tension because pretty much anyone could did at any time. Alternatively, you could do something like Buffy where the stories all have major consequences and lingering character arcs. The BSG people go through stuff, but there's not that same sense of consistent forward progress. In this season, Tigh went through some truly fantastic stuff, but it's pretty much done now, same for Starbuck.

Basically, the show just isn't willing to play out the consequences of storylines that will detach it from the status quo. Going into this season, I assumed New Caprica would be the new status quo for the show and last for at least a season. The episodes there were riveting, and it really did feel like anything could happen. This new cliffhanger we've got is the same kind of thing that could have happened in season one or two.

There is some forward progress, but not enough. It's possible to do a lot of standalone episodes and have them accumulate in character development, as in Angel or The Sopranos season five, but these standalones seem to happen, then be forgotten. I think it was a huge mistake to end New Caprica so quickly, and part of what made the show seem to lag in the second half of the season is that it feels old next to the bold new stuff in the first half.

I think the issue is a lot of people are uncomfortable with the development of the cylons beyond just an evil force out to get the humans. I've read a lot of reviews complaining about the baseship storyline, saying that it's taking the mystery away. Now, that might be true, but mystery gets old after a while, I think the cylons are much more interesting than the humans, their culture is fascinating and the more that gets revealed, the more interesting it becomes. Now, I would agree that the piano music/dissolve style got a bit old after a while, but the baseship segments were still much more interesting than the stuff on Galactica.

One of the show's best episodes was Downloaded, which gave us a totally different view of the cylons, and seemed to herald a moment where the cylons would try to help humanity rather than extreminate them. I think that's a much more interesting direction to go in than to just return to the same setup we had for the first two seasons, as has been done now. The show is always more interesting when the line between cylon and human is blurred. Look at the Leoben/Kara storyline from early in the season, what makes it so fascinating is that Leoben has a legitimate desire for love, we can understand his motivations, and the 'evil' of his actions comes out of an understandable place. That's much more effective than having the cylons as an all purpose evil force without any sort of motivation.

Ultimately, I feel like the basic status quo of humans on the run from the cylons just doesn't work anymore. Episodes that focus on character issues still work, like 'Unfinished Business,' but something like 'The Passage' feels very outdated, something that belongs back in the first season. The show needs to grow beyond those episodes, beyond the obvious status quo and into a new form. New Caprica did this and it was the best episodes the show's ever done. Hopefully the second half of the season will do the same thing.

Best of 2006: Top 10 Episodes

With the year almost over, it's time to start the list making, I'll be putting a new list out every other day until the end of the year, and our first is the ten best TV episodes of 2006. This list is tough to do for a number of reasons, one is some shows are just better than others, so is a pretty good Sopranos episode better than a great Gilmore Girls episode? I tried to balance things here, but there's a good amount of repeat appearances here.

10. Arrested Development - 'Family Ties'

Watching the last four episodes of Arrested Development in one go, as they were broadcast, was a surreal experience, with the show going to more bizarre places than it had ever gone before, and this episode was one of the highlights. Michael hires Nellie, a prostitute he thinks is his sister, to work at his office and raise morale. There's hilarity in the show itself, and on a meta level, because Nellie's played by Justine Bateman. Wow, this show enjoys going to the incest place, and it's always funny. The capper is the revelation that Nellie's pimp is actually Gob's puppet Franklin.

9. 24 - 'Day 5: 7:00-8:00"

It's tough to distinguish standout episodes of the show, what with the really heavy continuity. However, this premiere still stands out nearly a year later. They teased that you shouldn't miss the first five minutes, usually a hollow promotion. Not here, killing three major characters in a period of ten minutes established again that this show has no limits, anyone is in danger, and that's what makes it work so well. You actually believe that anyone could die, so every episode is suspenseful. Maybe it's a bit gimmicky, but it's necessary to keep the show fresh and exciting.

8. Gilmore Girls - 'I Get a Sidekick Out of You'

Much like Buffy's sixth season, this was all about plunging the lead character into awful emotional trauma and repression. Lorelai's underlying concerns spill to the surface in the most painful scene of the series' entire run, her drunken ramble at Lane's wedding. It's tough to watch, and is the highlight of the episode. But, there's a lot of the quirky comedy stuff the show does so well in there too.

7. Friday Night Lights - 'Pilot'

Not that the show itself isn't great, but this Pilot was just unbelievable in setting up a completely unique world for the show to inhabit. The lengthy non-dialogue sequences were great, and by the end, I really cared about the result of the game, and the victory was a fantastic payoff. This was a great start to the best new show of the season.

6. Battlestar Galactica - 'Occupation/Precipice'

One of the best season openers of all time, this was an incredibly tense, emotionally wrenching two hours. The show again returns to the loaded political commentary of the miniseries, and also tracked our characters through the worst moments of their lives. And it's all capped by the powerful image of a cylon firing squad about to gun down Roslin and Zarek. I'd never seen a world like this on TV before.

5. Arrested Development - 'Development Arrested'

As I mentioned before, the show seemed to spin out of control as it reached this bizarre, fantastic conclusion. Lindsay's attempt to sleep with Michael was hilarious, completely messing with the fictional world the show had built over the past three seasons. George Michael's trip to second base was another highlight, though the biggest laugh for me was the return of Anyong. The show may have been cut down too soon, but with a finale this good, I can't be too mad about that.

4. The Sopranos - 'Mr. and Mrs. John Sacrimoni...'

The season definitely had some issues, but the first half was as consistently brilliant as any previous season. This episode, chronicling Tony's first public appearance after the shooting, was a fantastic exploration of masculinity in the mob world. Johnny's tearful breakdown as he was taken back to prison, Vito's continuing issues with his sexuality, and Tony's new outlook on life all caused problems. Tony's attack on his driver at the end was the perfect cap to the episode.

3. Battlestar Galactica - 'Downloaded'

The gem of the otherwise troubled second half of season two, this episode gave us our most intriuging look into the cylon world yet. I love Six and Boomer's uncertainty about their place in the cylon hierarchy, and the episode ending murder of D'Anna was shocking. Unfortunately, most of what this episode explored was abandoned to recast the cylons in a more obviously evil role in season three. But, this one still stands out as a masterpiece.

2. Battlestar Galactica - 'Exodus II'

The capper to the New Caprica arc, this is the best episode the show's ever done. The effects were dazzling, better than anything I saw in the cinema this year, but what really makes it powerful is how satisfying it is to see humanity get a victory after the oppression of the first three episodes. There's so many fantastic moments here, Tigh killing his wife, Baltar's confused flight, the Pegasus' destruction. This episode was so good, everything after has felt a bit lackluster.

1. The Sopranos - 'Join the Club'

In the real world, it's an emotionally raw exploration of familial grief and worry, as Tony lies in a coma. Edie Falco's monologue should have come with an Emmy, and the others get great material too. This has the same power as Six Feet Under's 'Ecotone.' But, that's not all we get. The allegorical storyline of Tony as Kevin Finnerty is one of the best things the show's ever done, intellectually challenging and extremely revealing of Tony's psyche. The layered complexity of this episode is something you'd only see on The Sopranos, and that's why, despite this season's problems, it's still on a whole different level from anything else on TV.

Babylon 5 - 'The Parliament of Dreams' and 'Mind War' (1x05-1x06)

These two episodes were an improvement over the first four, further developing the show's world and alien cultures, and generally telling better stories, even though some of the major issues from the previous episodes persist. However, I am getting sense of the depth of the universe and that has me really intrigued to see how things develop in future episodes.

'Parliament of Dreams' is explicitly designed to deepen our understanding of the various alien cultures by giving us a glimpse of their religious ceremonies. It's troublesome territory to so explicitly separate everyone by certain 'racial' characteristics, but I think it works here if you view it more as cultural differences. The alien races are more like old world nations, while Earth is clearly equated with the United States, a blend of cultures and traditions, such that it's impossible to isolate one Earth religion, rather it is in the mixing that we are unique. Presumably a major thread of the series will be the way that the alien cultures are forced to move beyond their old prejudices and find peace.

While he worked well in 'Born to the Purple,' Londo was a bit broad here, literally falling over the table. However, at least he's putting some effort in, a lot of the human people are still completely emotionless in their performance. The Minbari religious ceremony was appropriately reverent and one of the best visual moments in the series so far. In general, the series seems uninterested in doing really interesting visual stuff. Shots are very basic and there's no attempt to do really strong visual storytelling. That's not about the effects limits, it's more about the choice to play stuff out with dialogue rather than visuals. Of course, in TV, it's only recently that we've seen shows with visual presentation to match the quality of the writing.

The Captain is still something of an absent center, though his encounter with Catherine was probably his best material yet. We get a better sense of him as a character, but I feel like the performance just isn't there to make me care about him. Though it's not just him, the scripts still use too many cliches, the people talk like people in a movie talk, not like people in real life talk.

G'Kar is the standout character so far, he's got some complexity and the acting stands out through the makeup. His pettiness is a nice contrast to the human cast, who are generally stoic and noble. Also, having multiple plot lines going during the episode helped the pacing.

'Mind War' is my favorite episode of the series so far, focusing on a telepath who has evolved too fast, causing problems when he tries to interact with normal humans. We also get further development of the Psi Corps, with the appearance of two Psi Cops. Talia is one of the more interesting characters on the show and it was nice to see more development of her. The old teacher comes back storyline is a staple, and it generally worked here. However, the guy playing Ironheart went way too over the top overacting it. It's like he was trying to make up for everyone else underplaying things, and that wound up throwing the show out of balance. His creep down the hall at the end of the show was just ridiculous in how much overacting he was doing.

However, the end of the episode is great. Ironheart seems to transcend the boundaries of physical humanity and become a kind of god. He then passes on some of his TK power to Talia. I'm intrigued by his comment that he'll see Sinclair in a million years, that one remains unexplained. Even the visual effects worked there, with his astral body against the stars. I'm imagining that was an X-Men reference, as the whole Psi Corps thing seems to draw a lot from there. It looks just like Xavier's astral body when he duels with the Shadow King. I'm assuming having Ivanova say "Who watches the watchmen?" was another comics reference.

There seems to be a recurring theme of corporations trying to use technological advances for profit and war. In 'Infection,' it was the organic weapons and here it's the TK potential. There is a fight between people who want to keep the tension between races and those who want to bring them together. That's looking more and more like it's the thematic core of the series.

I also really liked the story with Catherine and G'Kar. Her incessant talking to the computer was a bit much, but the end, with the discussion of ants was great. This episode is full of Morrisonesque ideas, and this is a critical one, the idea that we're only a small piece of a much larger universe. G'Kar is becoming more layered every week and here he's thankfully free of having to do goofy comedy bits.

I think what the show really needs now is a Whedon style sense of humor about itself. There's some jokes, but they don't really work. Whedon always knew exactly when to puncture the show's seriousness and absurdity, which made this odd world more accessible to the audience. We could accept whatever came up because at the core of the show were three very relatable characters. Here, we don't have that same entry point, so it's easier to criticize the show from the outside. I'm not saying they should break the fourth wall down and just mock things, rather, be more aware of how ridiculous some of what happens is and acknowledge that in the story world.

Even as Whedon would make a lot of jokes, he never let those jokes mess with the dignity of the characters, we were meant to laugh with them, rather than at them, and a lot of the time, I feel like we're meant to laugh at the ridiculousness of some of the Londo bits. Those bits go too far and just aren't funy. Go more for subtle wit than the really broad comedy things.

And in general, try to get the characters more emotionally involved in things. It can be contrived to have people going through huge emotion in these standalone episodes, but to really know the characters, they need to open up more. That said, the creation of more recurring elements and interepisode continuity is a great sign. These two episodes were a big jump over what came before, and hopefully the show will keep moving forward.

Babylon 5 - 'Infection' (1x04)

I've heard this is the worst episode of the entire series, which is encouraging on one level because it's not that bad, however, it's still far from good. I do think this is a better episode than 'Soul Taker,' so if that's the all time worst episode, it'll be good for the show's future.

My major problem with the show so far is with the pacing and acting. It is over ten years old, so there's going to be a gap between this and something like Battlestar, but still, the intensity just isn't there. Scenes take longer to unfold than they should and I feel like every episode is about a half hour of story stretched out to fill 45 minutes.

The lackluster acting also contributes to the lack of intensity. There's not as much egregiously bad performance as in the pilot, but the actors don't seem engaged in their roles. Watching Buffy, there were some similar jitters in the first season, but the core four were great actors and helped sell some pretty bad storylines. Here, everyone seems to be reading off cue cards, there's no real emotional depth.

More than any other show, this reminds me of the early days of The X-Files, a show that started around the same time and had some similarly ridiculous episodes in its first season. The thing that made the really bad episodes of that show work was the chemistry between Mulder and Scully, and this show doesn't have an anchor like that.

I'm still intrigued by a lot of the stuff floating around the outskirts, the scene between Garibaldi and Sinclair, talking about their time on Earth Force, was really well done and sets up some potentially interesting stories down the road. That was a moment that could have been truly great, but got bogged down a bit in cliche. I wanted the emotional beats to be more raw, but the characters don't feel real enough for that. The show's very static, restrained shooting style doesn't give us access to the characters' emotions in the same way that Battlestar Galactica's hectic verite does. These people act like they're on sets, putting on a show. The BSG characters do their own thing and the camera struggles to catch up and find those moments of weakness when they're alone.

More generally, I'm hoping that there's not too many more of these random alien shows up and kills people episodes. Considering the show's set on a space station, there's bound to be some of them, but this episode didn't do much that wasn't already done in 'Soul Taker.'

So, if this is the worst of it, I'm glad to be through, and hopefully things will pick up soon. The show is definitely stronger when Londo and G'Kar are on, they have a lot more will and emotion, an energy that the human characters just aren't bringing. Hopefully they'll turn up in the next episode, and hopefully it'll be better.

Battlestar Galactica - 'The Eye of Jupier' (3x11)

This was a great start to a story, but it's very difficult to evaluate it without any resolution, and this episode gave us nothing in the way of that, just a whole bunch of cliffhangers. The episode is definitely an improvement over the past few, but still pales in comparison to the season opening New Caprica arc.

Watching this season has seen a nearly week to week reversal of my opinion about the series. Towards the end of season two, the show was really drifting and it was only the back to back combo of Downloaded and the fantastic season ending cliffhanger that kept me with it. However, this year's season premiere completely bowled me over. The next two didn't stop, I'd consider Exodus II the best episode the show's ever done. So, where do they go from there? Sadly, it's been something of a retreat to conservatism, exactly what I feared after watching Collaborators. With the exception of the wonderfullly evocative Torn, there's been very little that couldn't have happened in seasons one or two. The resolution of Torn was good, but nowhere near what it could have been, and Hero was another weak episode. I did enjoy Unfinished Business, but last week's episode was one of the weakest the series has ever done. Into this schizophrenic season, we get a midseason finale that's good, but left me wanting more. I suppose that's what a cliffhanger is supposed to do, it's just that this was more me wanting more because very little actually happened, rather than wanting to see the resolution of what did happen.

The basic structure of the episode reminds me of a classic X-Files mythology episode, in which Mulder and Scully would race against the government to find some object that is the "key to everything," inevitably resulting in a standoff that's resolved after the cliffhanger, at which point the object is promptly forgotten and everyone moves on. The Eye of Jupiter is a basic macguffin, setting up the conflict between the cylons and the humans, even though we're never clear exactly what it's role in the overall scheme of things is, or even what the actual object is. Basically, it's there and everyone wants it. That's all we need to know.

There is a lot of interesting stuff in the episode, and if they deliver on what's been set up, this could be one of the stronger stories they've ever done. The best stuff here involves, as usual, the cylons and their uneasy relations with the humans. While I love the Baltar on the cylon ship stuff, I think the show thrives in the tension between humans and cylons. When the two groups are interacting it's great, but alone, they each drift away from excitement and get caught up in irrelevant issues. That conflict is the core of the show, so it's good to keep it front and center.

That's why I love the scene where Baltar and the Cylon party go to the Galactica. I was missing Dean Stockwell, despite all the time on the cylon ship, we haven't gotten to know the cylon men in greater depth. However, Dean brings such wonderful weirdness, any scene he's in is going to be entertaining. He may have been laying it on a little thick here, but it made for a fun scene, and the show can always use a burst of bizarreness. I was feeling a bit of Ben from Blue Velvet seeping into that scene. Baltar's total unease at being caught between the cylons and humans is also great. He's best when he's groveling, so it's good to see him back in that position. He's still one of the show's most fascinating characters and this episode is the best material he's gotten all season.

The other great scene with him is the farewell to Caprica, as he and D'Anna go off to pursue their destiny. I'm really curious to see what this leads to, the buildup's been great, but it'll be difficult to come up with a meaningful reveal for the identities of the five cylons. But, if there's been this much buildup, I'm sure there must be an interesting revelation coming up down the line.

Elsewhere, there's the wonderful scene with the two Sharons. It's one of the first times we've see dialogue between two identical cylon models and it feels odd. I'll say that cylon Boomer Sharon is definitely looking hotter, and seeing her standing near Hera back on the cylon ship was a well done odd moment. We're aware that Sharon is Hera's mother, but this isn't that Sharon, yet it looks just like her.

That said, I feel like the revelation Hera's alive was pretty badly botched. Now, maybe they're building up to bigger consequences in the future, but, for one, I felt like there was a scene deleted that set up the conversation between Adama and Helo/Sharon. But more importantly, where was the emotion from either of them, I feel like this should have been something shocking and they just take it. Now, maybe there'll be a big breakdown in the future, but Sharon put all her faith in these people, was willing to condemn her people to genocide and they completely betrayed her. Now, there's a lot of potentially interesting stuff that could happen if she goes back to the cylon ship, but I feel like the initial emotional reaction could have been played up more.

The other major thing that happened in this episode was the Lee/Kara love quadrangle. I think Unfinished Business was a great episode, but the treatment of the issues here was a bit too soapy. Kara doesn't seem like someone who'd care about getting divorced, so I would argue she's just trying to keep Lee at a distance, and not have to deal with potentially getting married. However, it's still a bit contrived to bring them all together here. That said, I am glad to see a followup on that plot thread, since the episode to episode continuity had been slipping a bit recently.

On the visual front, the algae planet was very cool looking, I still enjoy the heavily color corrected look they use for the different planets they encounter. The stuff on Galactica seemed a bit clearer than usual. The real visual knockout of the episode was the shots of the baseship in the pink/black clouds, very striking stuff. The FX just keep getting better.

One of the biggest issues that's developed over the course of the season is the fact that Adama and Roslin have become different aspects of the same exact character. The early parts of the show were largely based around their conflict, but now we don't have any sort of argument within the fleet itself. Tom Zarek hasn't been on in a while and we really need that oppositional voice to keep things on edge. Maybe someone on the show could step up, or else bring in a new character.

More generally, they need to commit to stronger continuity between episodes and less of these obviously throwaway standalone episodes. It's okay to do the occasional standalone, but don't stack them all together, that's what's going to make people criticize the show. It's still great, but I haven't been blown away by it in a while, I'm hoping the resolution to this episode will do that, but we'll have to wait a month to find out.

Kamikaze Girls

This film is a fine example of what I call Pop Cinema, movies where the narrative exists primarily as a structure from which the filmmaker can indulge in a variety of stylistic flights of fancy. One of the finest examples of this is Run Lola Run, a movie that also blends animation and fractured chronology to tell its story. However, Kamikaze Girls has a bit more heart than Lola, using its style to enhance the story of Momoko and Ichiko.

The film's opening establishes the mood right off, a hyper animated sequence segues into Momoko on the bike, music blaring, camera moving all around, stopping only for freeze frames for the credits. The use of freeze frame is really striking here, a very pop move, bringing instant cool to the proceedings. The font is also great. I love a film that starts right off with something cool, and the crash into the watermelon truck does that, the beautiful footage of Momoko drifting through the air pondering her life moving us into the opening chunk of the film, which chronicles Momoko's history. The images here, in brilliantly exaggerated slow motion, are really striking.

The subsequent accounting of history uses some techniques I've seen before, the direct address, acknowledgement of the camera, speeded up storytelling, etc. aren't all original tactics, but they work well in context. Again, you could say these techniques have been used before or are gimmicky, but the so called 'normal' techniques for exposition have been used a lot more. As I said with reference to Friday Night Lights' visual style, it's ridiculous to accuse something that breaks from the norm of being gimmicky because the norm itself is a construction. It may not work, but what I find most boring now is a film that sticks to strict classical continuity rather than using all the possibilities of film to tell its story.

These opening sequence definitely uses all film has to offer. I'm curious about the bleeping out of Versace, was that just on the American DVD or was it a reference to the fact that the clothes aren't really Versace? I'm not sure what's up there. I really liked the flashbacks to the Rococo period, a ridiculously idolized depiction constructed in Momoko's mind. She doesn't necessarily want the reality of what things were like then as much as the fantasy her mind has built out of what she's read.

That sequence in particular, but the whole film in general has a lot of thematic simmilarities with Marie Antoinette. Both films use a character's ridiculous consumption as a way of exploring their emotional shortcomings. For Marie, consumption became a means of rebellion, the only way to assert her own identity in the strict world of the court. For Momoko, fashion becomes a way of defining herself, creating her own special world that's more exciting than the poverty she actually lives in. I like the fact that the film doesn't have her grow beyond consumption, it doesn't work for everybody, but in her case, it seems that all she really wants to do is wear these ornate clothes and enjoy being seen in them. That is the best way for her to express her self identity, and the film presents it without the expected growht beyond that. She has the chance to become a designer, but she'd rather just wear the clothes. Ichigo says that as a designer she could stop others from having to stop at Jusco, but I feel like Momoko needs Jusco, if they didn't exist, she wouldn't have a normal to define herself against.

The core of the film is the relationship between Ichiko and Momoko, and the way that they each push each other outside their comfortable behavior patterns. I really like Ichiko's 'origin' sequence, the moment where Akimi shows her a vision of what she could be. Both girls are trying to live up a fantasy image they have constructed, even as the world around them tries to force them into conformity. The final confrontation at the end makes it quite literal. The other bikers try to force Ichiko to accept their rule and live by their behavior patterns. But, Momoko fights back, and in a great display of ferocity, points out the way that they have become the very society they were trying to escape from, trapped by their own rules and power structures.

The film is primarily about the power of subculture to provide an outlet for imagining for young people. High school is an oppressive place where everyone must dress the same and do the same, so in their own time, Momoko and Ichiko are able to create fantasy personas, outlets for their dreams and desires. The reason they become friends is exactly because they are so different, and the difference between them makes it easier for each to express their individuality.

Much like a Wong Kar-Wai film, this is more about moments than a strict linear narrative. My favorite segment of the film is the 16mm footage of the two of them around the city. Taking them out of the glossy sheen of the regular film makes their difference from the norm more apparent. Momoko looks pretty ridiculous at times, but you forget about it as you're watching. Seeing it in the more 'real' view of the 16 footage makes it apparent again. I'm always railing against film, promoting digital, but in this case, the 16 is essential to making the sequence work. The problem with 16 to me is that it always winds up looking the same. Your look is the look of the film, which can work. But, you have less control. In this case, shooting on film gave them the perfect look for the sequence, but it wouldn't stand out if the whole film was shot like that.

I also really love the part at the train station in the rain, where Momoko offers to make Ichiko the embroidery. It reminds me of a similar scene in Three Times. Another cool bit is the 50s inspired sequences in the Pachinko parlor with Ryuji, the music there is fantastic. The denouement to that storyline, where Ichiko cries, is a great moment too. Throughout the film, the music does a fantastic job of pushing the emotional point the filmmakers were going for. The songs are great in their own right and also fit nicely with the energy of the film.

In the end, the film shows how Momoko can open her world to others without compromising her values, and the same's true for Ichiko. In terms of narrative, the film isn't particularly groundbreaking, but it's so stylish and fun, it's just a really enjoyable viewing experience. I sometimes wonder whether I'd like a movie like this if it was set in America. Certainly part of the enjoyment is seeing a different culture and its odd subcultures, but I feel like I would still really enjoy it if it was an American film. However, I seriously doubt I'd go to see it, just because teen movies here are usually so bad, a good pop gem like this would slip through the cracks.

Weekend Update

Golden Globe Noms: Movies

I'm not thrilled with the Golden Globe nominations, I haven't even seen most of the films in the major categories. I haven't seen the film, but I seriously doubt The Queen is one of the best films of the year, there's a widely increasing gap between films that are actually good and the ones that receive the year end awards. That said, I really want to see Babel, Little Children and Volver. I'm back in New York tomorrow, the first screening will be a re-view of Inland Empire, and after that I'll hopefully get to some of these other films.

Golden Globe Noms: TV

24 definitely deserves its best series nomination, but The Sopranos and Battlestar Galactica are pretty grievously missing. Heroes is decent, but it doesn't come close to either of those shows, or Friday Night Lights. The acting nominations are pretty solid though.

The Year End Review

Starting in a week or so, I'll start posting my year end review stuff, top tens for TV, music and film. I've still got some screenings/listenings to get in, there's a lot of good stuff out there this year so it won't be easy to narrow things down. There's definitely going to be some different stuff on my lists than you'll see elsewhere, so stay tuned for that.

Friday Night Lights - 'It's Different For Girls' (1x10)

After watching the first nine episodes of the show in a couple of days, it was tough to wait the week for this new one. The show is so easy to watch in multi-episode chunks, it's tough to scale back to just one a week, and I'm not sure of the schedule, but there probably won't even be another new one until late January. That's tough, but at least the show got a full season pickup, and a new timeslot could help get some more viewers.

This episode focuses on Lyla and the cruelty she faces as a result of her dalliance with Tim. The classroom commentary on the difference between male "fertilizers" and female "seed growers" was a bit on the nose, but generally, the story was handled well. The website is definitely something that would happen in real life, and, as the title says, the difference between the treatment Lyla received and the treatment Tim received is very telling. I don't get why women are usually the ones who are first to call someone a slut, why should you care so much about what someone does? Obviously men do it too, and it's just cruel that our society has those values.

I think her turnaround was a bit too quick, but that's one of the necessities of episodic television. Stories need to fit themselves into these 45 minute chunks, and even though in real life what would happen is things would just gradually quiet down, here we need some kind of dramatic punctuation to the story. Her assertion of confidence at the competition provides that punch to the end of the story. It's tricky to balance the need to keep something realistic, and lasting, without making it feel prolonged. Lately, Battlestar Galactica has gone way too far towards the set up and resolve in one episode, at least this storyline was built up over a few episodes before it go the spotlight. That's one of the great things about serialized television, the ability to let stuff simmer then come to the surface. My main issue with recent BSG is that there's no simmering, everything occurs in standalone episodes.

The resolution itself is fantastic for all the conflicting emotions. Tim, having realized the error of his ways too late, is now helping out both Jason and Lyla, inadvertantly driving the two of them back together. The moment where he sees Jason in the stands is wonderful, it's not dwelt upon, but we know exaclty what he feels. That's well done visual storytelling, one shot conveying a wealth of emotions, particularly the juxtaposition of Tim's realization that he will never have a chance with her with Jason's rediscovering of his feelings about her. I complained before that this storyline had a bit of a soapy feel, but this episode didn't at all, it was much more restrained and realistic.

On his own, Jason continues to have a lot of interesting stuff. Most TV dramas have set storylines that they draw on, but I've never seen anything like this extended spinal injury recovery storyline. The scene with the lawyer is great, the Streets realizing that they could make some easy money off this, while Jason struggles with the moral consequences of suing the coach. The race with the kid is well done too. Though I hope he stays in touch with the rehab crew now that he's back at home. I'm assuming they'll show up in the future at some wheelchair sports.

The other major storyline dealt with Coach Taylor's continuing struggle with his daughter dating Matt. There's a lot of funny stuff here, particularly him continually referring to Landry as Lance, as well as him miscorrecting Matt ("It's Julie and me. Common mistake.") I don't think anything reaches the level of the Members Only exchange from the last episode, but it's still great. It's particularly fun to watch Matt turned into a pawn for Julie and Eric's familial conflict. He just seems befuddled most of the time, as he struggles to stay on good terms with both of them. The blanket scene is another classic, perfectly exemplifying Coach Taylor's ridiculousness when it comes to dealing with Matt and Julie.

Elsewhere, Smash continues to drift closer to some kind of breakdown. I'm not sure wheter they'll go for the obvious, he gets caught and suspended storyline, or for the more subtle, he decides to quit and finds his game suffering, tempting him back to the steroids. Both have great dramatic potential, but I would go for the latter, forcing the character to suffer in silence and again deal with the fact that he just might not be good enough. For someone so totally confident in himself, that's the most painful thing to experience.

The show continues to work great visually. The texture of the image is unique in television and the camera movement/zooms do a great job of drawing our attention to specific, important parts of the frame. The cheerleading competition is a great example of visual storytelling, giving us everything we need to know with glances. I don't think there's one line of dialogue in the final sequence, but we still understand what every character is feeling.

More generally, I think having Tami work as a guidance counselor was a great plot choice. Having all the characters clustered in the same place can make things feel incestuous or claustrophobic, as in Buffy season seven. But, it works here because it allows us to see two adult viewpoints on the goings on at the school, and in contrasting Tami and Eric's thoughts on what's happening, we get a more nuanced picture of the school environment. I'm not sure if people actually do go and break down and cry at the guidance counselor's office, when I was in high school, the guidance counselor was pretty much exclusively about getting you into college, but maybe it's different elsewhere. In this case, Lyla was at a breaking point, looking for someone to unload her emotions on, and Tami offered her that chance. But, having this kind of thing happen too often could push things into melodrama.

I think it'll be interesting if the show goes into a third or fourth season, when this generation of kids moves on, but the adult figures stay behind. Tim isn't likely to make it out of the town, so he could stay on the show, and it's not that tough to keep the rest of the cast close, but will we see the introduction of a whole new generation of players? I'm not sure if the show will make it that long, but it's a problem that a show like Freaks and Geeks never had to resolve. This one is even more complex because we're not invested in the characters, we're invested in the 'team,' and how interesting will the team be if all the players leave? Obviously I hope the show keeps going for many seasons, but it's going to be tricky to work it out. I've always felt that there was a lot of potential drama in showing high schoolers going off to college and building new social systems, while still maintaining the old ones. The issue then becomes you wind up with a massive amount of characters, and not enough time to spotlight them all.

But that's down the line, for now the show is rolling along, and this was a fantastic episode. This is easily the best new show of the season.

Miami Vice: Redux

I already reviewed it back in July, but I just watched the film again on DVD, and I've got to say, if you not have seen this movie, get the disc and watch it. It's on the level of The New World or Wong Kar-Wai in terms of using visuals and music to construct an incredible film narrative. Mann's world is a bit harsher than either Malick's or Wong's, but there are also moments of such incredible beauty.

Watching it on DVD, the DV photography looks even better, particularly in the city scenes, which are absolutely awe inspiring in their seemingly endless progression of lights. The camera moves in a fluid, very emotional way, never more so than in the sequences with Sonny and Isabella in Cuba. Starting with the phenomenal boat scene, we get one beautiful sequence after another, culminating in the shadowy, perfectly lit sex scene. I love the lighting throughout, stylish but not stylized. Mann finds the beauty in the world, rather than trying to bring something into it that's not there.

The skillful narrative construction is also more apparent on the revisit. He uses a lot of Soderbergh style multi-location cutting to convey information in the film's opening chunk, and similar work is done in the ending, giving us just enough to get to the emotional core of the story.

That core is the Isabella/Sonny relationship, and that makes the film. I love the scene in Jose's nightclub where they dance close, oblivious to the fact that this dance is putting them both in danger. It's just the two of them. The most heartbreaking moment in the film is the ending, Isabella on the boat, moving away from Sonny. Their eyes stay locked as she moves away, but when she's outside of sight, he turns away and goes back to his life. We then see her, still looking to the land. She turns around, and in that moment, she have given up everything she knows. The man she loves has ruined her life and now she's alone.

But, that's business. This thing happened between them, and then they must move on. In Mann's films, the personal is always sublimated to the professional, and nowhere is that pain more apparent than in those final moments. The music builds, Sonny walks into the hospital, he's back on the job and that brief escape into another identity is left as nothing but a dream.

This is an astonishingly beautiful film, and more than any other, makes a strong case for the potential superiority of digital to traditional film. But, it's not just the camera, it's what Mann does with it, allowing the visual landscapes to convey character emotion. When Sonny and Isabella are in the boat, he belts her in, then we move out to a wide, swooping helicopter shot following the boat in its smooth course over the water. I love the moment when he buckles her, we see her as a strong woman, not used to this kind of treatment, he's a bit too gruff, but they each appreciate the other. When he's returning from Cuba, the smooth waters are gone, it's rough and the boat hops over every wave, struggling to return.

Another shot I absolutely love is Isabella getting off the plane. Mann gives his people fantastic sunglasses, and Gong Li has never looked better than she does walking down that staircase towards Sonny. Their frazzled encounter in the back of the car after that tells us everything we need to know about their love, it's passionate, it's fast, and it can't last.

This film is a world you slip into. Yes, there's a story, but it's more about getting lost in the undercover world, the glamour and the dirt. In doing so, Mann makes unique use of the power of cinema not to tell a story, but to instead convey a feeling, and he does it incredibly well.

Battlestar Galactica - 'The Passage' (3x10)

When talking about Collaborators, I talked with concern about the fact that the episode seemed designed to return the show to the status quo. The next couple of episodes dispelled that for me, but this is another off episode, marking two out of the last three that just weren't very good. This slumping back to the status quo is even more noticable placed against the groundbreaking, phenomenal opening run of the season. I had no desire to see any more of these standalone military episodes involving jumps and keeping the fleet together, and I was hoping that we were done with this kind of stuff after the second season jump forward in time. However, we're back in first season territory with this one, an episode with a story I feel like I've seen twelve times already.

The show is frequently frustrating because there's such a dichotomy between the good episodes and the bad ones. The first four episodes of this season were as good as anything that's ever been on television, just phenomenally intense storytelling. And then an episode like this doesn't even have a chance of hitting those peaks. In serialized storytelling, there's bound to be peaks and valleys, but with so many potentially interesting storylines to tackle, why come up with the spotlight, then kill for Kat, backed by this lame, out of nowhere food crisis. The food crisis could produce some good storylines, but this didn't expand much on similar episodes we'd seen before involving a water crisis and other issues with moving the fleet.

In the main storyline, there were a couple of good moments. I really liked Kara giving her the sleeping pills and the awkward farewell as she knew Kat was going to die. And, the wall of pictures still holds a lot of power, but it felt like a contrived attempt to create emotion, the story didn't earn it.

So, I was basically waiting for them to get back to Baltar and the cylons. There we get some interesting progress, though I was left wanting more. We get the setup for a showdown on this planet, between humans and cylons, setting the stage for the big midseason finale. They always find a way to bring the show's quality back for the beginning and endings of seasons, it's just a matter of keeping the consistency, and this episode is so obvious weak and misguided, you're basically watching just for hints about what will come next week.

Weekend Update

Inland Empire Released

It came out in New York on Wednesday. If you haven't already read it, I reviewed the film back in October in non-spoiler and spoiler variety. If you have seen the film, I'd love to talk more about it, it's nice to see a Lynch film before the critical consesus about it has emerged, to invent the theories that will one day guide viewers. I'll be going back for a second viewing as soon I return to New York, which should be in a week or so. And, I just have to add that it's cool to be the top Google search result for "Inland Empire explanation."

Upcoming Viewing/Reading

I'm still reading through the second TPB of Ellis' Stormwatch. The series just isn't very good. Once that's done, I'll be reading, and reviewing, Alan Moore's Lost Girls. In terms of TV, I'm caught up on Friday Night Lights, next I'm going to watch season three of Rescue Me. I left my first season of Babylon 5 at home, so I can't start that again until next week, but after that I should go through it fairly quickly, and will be reviewing as I go. I've also got I'm Alan Partridge coming in. I haven't written about many films lately, largely because I haven't seen much worth writing about. But, when something comes along, it'll be on here.

Awards Buzz

The National Board of Review named Letters From Iwo Jima the best film of the year. I haven't seen it, but come on, the war movie was exhausted with Apocalypse Now, and Clint just isn't that good a filmmaker. Of all the best picture contenders, the only one I'm a big fan of is The Departed. But, I've still got to see Babel and I'll probably check out Dreamgirls when it drops.

Buffy Comic

I read this interview with Joss about the upcoming Buffy comic. I'd rather have seen the character movies he mentioned here, but at least the comic will be something. I'm not sure I like the idea that the Buffy seen in Angel's 'The Girl in Question' isn't the real Buffy, I liked the idea that she had left behind her responsibility and was just having fun for once. The Buffy in the comic seems to be an extension of season seven grim leader Buffy, the least interesting she ever was on the series. I hated the idea of the army of slayers then, and I don't think it's a good idea to put Buffy with a bunch of random people rather than her friends, the characters we've followed through the series. I'm going to be open minded, but it was the personal dynamic that interested me more than the big action stuff on the series, that's why season six was the show's best.

Friday Night Lights (1x02-1x07)

After a fantastic pilot, the show keeps up the intensity and visual mystique, even as it falls into some well worn patterns of serial drama. In the pilot review, I talked about the way that recent debut episodes have totally raised the game in terms of visual and narrative progression, creating fully formed narrative universes in a television hour. But, after building this universe, where is there left to go?

In terms of presentation, the show's kept the very dynamic, verite visual style of the first episode. The handheld camera work brings our eyes right to the most important part of the frame, telling the story in glances and body language. I think this kind of camerawork can really help actors because it allows us them to just perform without worrying so much about how to emphasize what they're doing to the camera. A traditionally shot show necessitates a somewhat theatrical performance, with the actor catering to the audience in a set location. This show goes in a more dogme direction, allowing the action to happen and just catching it with the camera. I'm sure there's still a lot of planning and blocking, but you get the feeling of spotaneity, and that's what matters most. It's hard to keep this level of stylization on a weekly basis, but, with the exceptin of Battlestar Galactica, this is the most interesting looking show on television now.

That said, I do miss some of the nonverbal storytelling of the pilot. Now, with more responsibility to advance the plot arcs, the drifting shots of the town and silent focus on the people has largely gone by the wayside. There's always some interesting musical moments in the episode, but the focus on visual storytelling that was present in the pilot just isn't there. I may not be in the majority here, but I'd rather see a slower paced show that emphasizes the visual than one that rushes through stories. I find it annoying that people constantly criticize shows for moving too slow, particularly Heroes and BSG, then rush to say they're not as good as they used to be. It's not a race, events are more meaningful if they build, and we get to know the characters.

Buffy season six and Six Feet Under season three, arguably the two greatest seasons of television ever, both have a slow build structure, totally immersing us in the characters' troubles and then blowing everything up at the end. 'I'm Sorry, I'm Lost' isn't the best episode of the series solely because of what happens, it works so well because we've been immersed in what's Nate feeling, and are able to completely understand what he's going through in that moment. Sure, there may be a few slow episodes earlier in the season, but if you're going to approach a TV show as one big story, there's got to be slower parts. So, rather than filling the slow parts with circular narrative stopgaps, just focus on the visuals and the world and just relax in the characters' presence. Certainly by the end of Buffy, it wasn't the narrative moments that made the show work, it was hanging out with characters I'd come to love. If there was a follow up Buffy project, I wouldn't want a big bad, I'd rather see a Before Sunset type thing, with the characters just being together and reflecting on their lives.

But, that's a digression. This show isn't to that point yet, though the characters are becoming more interesting and developed. Saracen is probably my favorite, a goofy guy who probably just played football to make his dad happy is now thrust into the ultimate position of power in the town. His basic conflict is his reluctance to fully move into the football players' world. These are the people he's mocked all his life, and most notably in 'El Accidente,' we see that he knows this glory is fleeting. He's not going to go pro, and it's tough for him to get caught up in things when he knows that it will all end in a couple of years.

That's the spectre hanging over every character on the show, the knowledge that this is probably the high point of their lives. As we see with the former state champion quarterback, it's a lot tougher on the college level, they lose the chance for uncomplicated glory they have in Dillon. And, after those couple of years on top, the fall will be harsh. In the scenes with the team, there's the inevitable knowledge that the people there next year will be a very different crew, the coaches stay, but the kids move on, and that's the way of things in high school, football and otherwise. I think it must be weird being a teacher, staying in the same place, while those you teach move on to different things. When you're in class, you're unaware of the fact that the teacher has done this many times before, and with a few exceptions, you're probably not that special a class. Go back in ten years and who's going to remember you? Certainly not the students, everything changes, and soon no one who remembers you even works at the school.

Anyway, back to Saracen, he's the axis through which we can see both inside and outside the football machine. His friend, Landry, is simultaneously reveling in his connections to the football team and worried that Saracen will fully assimilate into their world and leave him behind. So far, that hasn't happened, but it's not easy for Saracen to navigate this world. On top of that, there's the trouble with his grandmother, the kind of realistic touch you usually don't see in TV. He's got so much going on, it's excusable when he doesn't give his all on the field.

Along with this heavier stuff, there is some humor. Saracen's almost painful awkwardness is very true to life. I love the scene where Coach Taylor tells him to take some girl in the backseat, and then realizes he was talking about his daughter. Because the show is so realistic otherwise, they can get away with what might be broad humor on another show. In comedy, I find it's always funnier to do a realistic universe. Cheech and Chong smoking pot, not particularly funny. Lester Burnham, straight laced businessman, smoking up is hilarious becuase it violates the code of the world he lives in, and does so in a realistic manner. The scene where Saracen asks Julie out works really well because he's so awkward and unconfident, saying "I'm just throwing it out there." You're simultaneously laughing at his lack of confidence and realizing that you'd be doing the same thing, or at least I would be.

A more troubling plotline is the relationship between Lyla and Tim. It plays fairly well, but comes off a bit too soapish. The Saracen stuff seems to take place in the real world, but they're from TV reality. It's very difficult to do a story like this without desending into melodrama. For me, the most realistic kind of writing is when characters don't do or say what they want. So, having Lyla say "I'm sleeping with my paralyzed boyfriend's best friend" may be designed to hit the nail on the head, but it winds up feeling a bit melodramatic. That said, the section where they go out on the boat is wonderful, Jason's lack of knowledge coupled with our knowledge makes his happiness painful, and just when we're thinking that maybe it can work, he finds out what's going on.

In general, the Jason storyline has been well handled. The best moment was definitely when he saw the wheelchair basketball, and for the first time was able to recover some of his hope. I like the way he makes no progress before that, but after is working on improving. Now, you could argue he's recovering too fast, but I think it makes sense. This is a guy who was in peak physical shape, if anyone can come back quick, he can. All it took was the will. The other great thing about this is the mix of pain and happiness he feels when with the team. The scene when he rolls out onto the field really conveys this mixed emotion, as does the locker room scene after that.

Elsewhere, Kyle Chandler as Coach Taylor continues to own the screen. They've done a good job of allowing him to totally buy into what they're doing, but still keep a bit of distance. He's torn between Buddy and his wife, between the idea of winning as the number one priority and football as something help the kids grow up into better people. This is the core tension of the show, and it was hit on a bit obviously in 'El Acidente.' I think the show is good enough that they don't need to spell things out in the way that episode did. Like in Battlestar Galactica, any time an episode too obviously tackles a theme, it comes off false. It's better to let things play out as subtext, the show is good enough that we get what they're doing.

So, in general I'm thrilled with the direction of the show. The few hiccups along the way don't detract from the way the series has created a very unique world that's unlike anything I've seen before on TV. I'm not a big football fan and I usually hate stuff about the middle of the country, but the show completely won me over. This is easily the best new show of the season, and one of the best on TV right now.

Best Album of the Year

2008: Cut Copy- In Ghost Colours
2007: Arcade Fire - Neon Bible
2006: Belle and Sebastian - The Life Pursuit
2005: The Raveonettes - Pretty in Black
2004: The Polyphonic Spree - Together We're Heavy
2003: Belle and Sebastian - Dear Catastrophe Waitress
2002: Doves - The Last Broadast
2001: Daft Punk - Discovery
2000: Phoenix - United
1999: Mr. Bungle - California
1998: Air - Moon Safari
1997: Radiohead - OK Computer
1996: Belle and Sebastian - If You're Feeling Sinister
1995: Radiohead - The Bends
1994: Tori Amos - Under the Pink
1993: U2 - Zooropa
1992: Tori Amos - Little Earthquakes
1991: U2 - Achtung Baby
1990: Depeche Mode - Violator
1989: Nine Inch Nails - Pretty Hate Machine
1988: Morrissey - Viva Hate
1987: U2 - The Joshua Tree
1986: The Smiths - The Queen is Dead
1985: The Smiths - Meat is Murder
1984: Prince - Purple Rain
1983: Pink Floyd - The Final Cut
1982: Michael Jackson - Thriller
1981: U2 - October
1980: David Bowie - Scary Monsters and Super Creeps
1979: Pink Floyd - The Wall
1978: Patti Smith - Easter
1977: Pink Floyd - Animals
1976: Electric Light Orchestra - A New World Record
1975: Bruce Springsteen - Born to Run
1974: David Bowie - Diamond Dogs
1973: Pink Floyd - Dark Side of the Moon
1972: David Bowie - The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust
1971: Led Zeppelin - Led Zeppelin IV
1970: The Beatles - Let It Be
1969: The Beatles - Abbey Road
1968: The Beatles - The Beatles
1967: The Beatles - Magical Mystery Tour
1966: The Beatles - Revolver
1965: The Beatles - Rubber Soul

Friday Night Lights - Pilot (1x01)

I'd heard good things about this show back when it debuted, but I was busy watching a whole bunch of other shows. Now that most stuff is going on post sweeps hiatus I figured it was time to take a look, and after one episode, I'm totally wowed. I've mentioned before that in recent years, the quality of pilots has improved a lot, a lot of shows are coming out of the gate fully formed, which just wasn't true ten years ago. In some cases, such as Studio 60 or Lost, the pilot is the series highpoint, and I'm hoping that's not the case in Friday Night Lights, because this pilot is one of the best starts to a series I've seen.

Now, I haven't seen the film the show was based on, so maybe this seems so well formed because it ha the movie to draw from. But, as a new viewer, I was really impressed by the show's use of art cinema style and documentary conventions to create a reality. The show this is closest to is Battlestar Galactica, which has a similar handheld style, making frequent use of zooms and cuts to give the feeling that this is really happening and we're trying to keep up and follow the action. I love this style of filmmaking, to some extent it's become a cliche denoter of realism, but it's nowhere near as cliche as the classical Hollywood conventions that govern most shows. People still have this mindset that shot/reverse shot, wide/close dynamics are the way film should be, and anything else is gimmicky. That simply isn't true, the style used here works really well with the material and does make it feel real.

The standout scenes in terms of this are the diner scene and the party scene. There, we cut between a variety of narrative strands, hearing snippets of conversation then moving forward to something else. In this pilot, rather than trying to specifically develop the characters, the goal seems to be to give you a portrait of the town. So, we meet a variety of people who demonstrate the values of this town. It is an economically depressed area that has largely been left behind, and the one uniting force in the town is the football team. It transcends high school to define existence for all these people. That's certainly weird to see, and the show does a good job of getting you into this world without an outside point of view. To some extent, the news crew is used to give some quick exposition, but generally we're allowed to just view the world on its own terms. I like the fact that no one is there to question their values, instead that act of questioning is left up to the viewer.

I've talked a lot about how TV has surpassed film in many ways. This show is shot better than the vast majority of movies out there. It has the dynamic energy of indie films like My Summer of Love, where the emphasis is largely on creating visual moments rather than conveying all the details of a story. I love the music, and the silent moments where the camera drifts down the street. The radio show is another great conceit, an omnipresent voice pressuring the coach. One of the coolest sequences was the silent practice with the peewee team, which segued into the locker room prayer. I was surprised to see them pray, and I think that's something deliberately designed to confront blue state viewers with the differences of this world.

This all leads up to the game itself. The pacing here is pretty quick and the one thing that struck me as off was just showing the touchdowns. But, once Street gets hit, everything slows down and we get a much better sense of the reality of this moment. I think it's a great testament to the show that for all its art cinema flourishes, it still provides the basic narrative tension that engrosses you in the action. The problem with doing this sort of subtle character development is that it sometimes means distancing the audience. At the same time, using tired editing techniques just to build tension is too transparent. Here, the presentation is so strong, I was on some level aware I was being manipulated, but I just didn't care. When Saracen is given the ball, I really wanted him to succeed. I love the juxtaposition of Street being cut out of his football stuff, really nasty stuff, with the triumph on the field. There's this very quick shift of emotions, and when that final pass is up in the air, you can tell that in that moment, everyone in the stands has forgotten about Street, they just want someone to catch the ball.

But, that moment of triumph is quickly undercut, first with another prayer, and then with the tense ending at the hospital. And that's the sign of a good series, the ability to make you care so much about what happens in the moment, and also realize that, in the long run, it's rather insignificant.

I thought this pilot was fantastic. It created an entire world, with a very distinct mood and feel in only one episode. The characters weren't developed in the traditional TV way, but I already have a sense of them, and I'm curious to see how things develop. There's a lot of potential here, and I'll definitely catch up on all that's aired in the next couple of weeks.