2005 So Far

In discussing 2004, I said that it was the Amnesiac to 2003's Kid A, not much had changed, and the stuff that was new had become commonplace, and I said that 2005 would not be another Amnesiac. But, so far it has been and it hasn't been. I think I've been much happier so far than last year, but things haven't really changed, maybe I just better learned to focus on what was good.

I guess the thing that made me happiest this year was that I actually made a movie, albeit one that still hasn't been edited, but filming's always been the holdup, and Jordan and I wrote something and filmed it. When I get home I'm going to edit it, or at least see that it gets edited somehow, hopefully in time for the LMC contest. I think more than being a great movie, this movie was important because it really taught me about the limits of what we can and cannot do, first limit, don't try to film 60 pages of script in 10 days, but also other more subtle things that have guided me in trying to create new stories. And, perhaps most importantly, I had a lot of fun filming the movie. This was the first time I ever really enjoyed the actual process of filming, and even though there were still the usual headaches, it was much more fun than I had filming stuff before.

Maybe that was partially because I was more in control. It's frustrating to be filming a project and not be able to do what you want. Sometimes in the long run it makes a better film, Tabula Rasa was great, and that was a completely group effort, but there were times when I wish I could have shot it more my way. But, on Ricky Frost, I tried to assert myself more, and was just pushed in the leadership position, so I did my best to run with it.

Anyway, that was good, but it was January. What have I done since? More of the same really, going to class, I had some really good classes this semester. Youth Culture was by far my best non-film class that I've taken here and Action Film was one of the best film ones. I guess part of what I liked about Youth Culture was that it was all new stuff. Last semester I took US History, and it was a decent class, but I'd done it before. This might not seem as important in the overall scheme of things, but it was new to me and that was exciting. And I'm actually enjoying doing my school work more than I ever have. Writing the paper on Batman Returns was a lot of fun, and it's something I'm proud of. Similarly, the paper I'm doing on how the stress on college admissions is changing high school has been fun to research and lets me revisit some issues from the past.

I feel like I'm much less stressed than other people here. Working in the computer lab, I see people pulling all nighters, all dayers, working ridiculous amounts, and not having much fun. I feel like for some people, the stress is as much a part of the work as the actual working is. It's not really work unless you go around telling twelve people how much work you have, when worrying about the work is pointless. You still have to do it either way and whining about it won't make it go away (in most cases, but even if it does make it go away, you'll have put so much effort in whining, you could have been finished with the original assignment by then).

But this isn't to say that it's all good. Things are going along, and while I am happy, I feel like there's so much more I could be doing. All my time is occupied, but could it be occupied in a better way? There are things I'm missing out on because I always go with the shelter of what is the same, what is safe, rather than risking something new that could potentially turn out bad, but at the same time could work out incredibly well.

And Wednesday I'm done with school and home for the summer. This is the chance to either do that something new, or go back into old patterns. I know what I should do, but can I muster up the courage to actually do it? Hopefully. Either way, at least I've got a job waiting for me, running the LMC camp again. It was actually a lot of fun last year, and I made a lot of money, which is really all you can ask for in a job, especially one that's actually in my industry. I feel like I've learned a lot about film I can convey to these kids, and my ego loved being placed in a position of authority.

So, the year is still up in the air. It's had a good start, but needs a little more to make it to a good finish. We'll see where things go.

Happy Together

Classes are over for this semester, I've got a few papers to do then I'll be out next Wednesday. It was a good semester, it may sound frivolous to take a course like The Action Film, but I really learned a lot. That course was interesting in the way it used things you wouldn't usually analyze to construct an image of American popular culture throughout the twentieth century. My other classes were pretty good too, probably the best semester yet.

Anyway, I recently rewatched Wong Kar-Wai's film Happy Together. He made Happy Together after Fallen Angels, and this film is an extension of the visual style he was already developing there. The film is about a couple of gay guys from Hong Kong who go to Buenos Aires, and drift apart and together over the course of the film.

This is a film that's at times difficult to watch, because of the relationship between the characters played by Leslie Cheung and Tony Leung. I have trouble Leslie constantly take advantage of him, and yet they always get back together. What the film becomes about is the process of Tony asserting his independence and getting the courage to leave Leslie.



I love the parts with Chang Chen. His friendship with Tony is great fun to watch, and this is the only time in Buenos Aires that the character is genuinely happy, excluding the scene where he cries into the tape recorder, which isn't happy, but is still an incredible scene. Another great scene is later in the film where Chang is at the lighthouse talking about his memories. This film has some of WKW's best voiceover.

Most of Wong Kar-Wai's films take place in a glamourous world, where even though people are emotionally upset, they're always remarkably well dressed and move through beautiful environments. Here, everybody seems poor and the main characters' apartment is small and cramped. It's still a gorgeously shot film, but the environments aren't as cool looking as in Fallen Angels or 2046.

This is a really adventurous film, the ultimate exploration of the visual style first seen in Chungking. A lot of the film is in black and white, and the color all seems to be treated in some way to draw out certain visual elements, most notably in the soccer scenes and the scenes with the falls. My favorite shot is early in the film. We start on Tony and seem to dollying away from him, then the camera pulls back and we see we're in the car with Leslie, driving away. Really simple, but it works so well. I also really like the vivid red liquids throughout the film, in the Chinese restaurant and the slaughter house.

The film visually is amazing, really experimental, but it's tough to find the same amount of beauty in the shots as in Fallen Angels because Buenos Aires just isn't as cool looking as Hong Kong. The whole film really is about the longing for home, for Hong Kong. Tony Leung only has one reason to be in Buenos Aires, and that's Leslie, so once they break up, and Chang Chen leaves as well, he feels this ennui and a strong desire to get back home. The last chunk of the film has an impatience about it. He's working in the slaughterhouse to get enough money to go back , and it really feels like you're making this journey with him. What's remarkable about the film is that when he does make it back at the end, you feel the same sense of being home that he does. I've never been to Hong Kong, and I'm sure it would be an absoultely alien world, but in the film, it feels so comfortable and welcoming, and in the absoultely phenomenal final scene, where Tony rides the train around the city at night, with the title song playing, there's such a feeling of peace, after a lot of trauma.

Why is this? I think it's partially because of my knowledge of WKW's other films. It feels odd for his characters to be in Buenos Aires, so when they get back to the site of his other films, it's comforting, that's a part of where the feeling of home comes from. I think it's also from Tony Leung's acting, he always seemed pained when he's in Buenos Aires, but when he makes it back, he seems happy for the first time in the film. Also, I think a lot of the feeling of the people making the film went in to the film itself. I know WKW originally intended to end the film with Tony dying, but instead chose to give him the happy ending of making it back to Hong Kong. It was a long shoot and I think the crew's longing to return home becomes a part of the film. In that afforementioned last chunk you can really feel this.

This film is part of what I would consider a loose stylistic trilogy with Chungking and Fallen Angels. It's interesting that they all end with the same feeling, the sense that happiness won't last forever, but if we can just find happiness in small moments, that's enough. So, the endings aren't exactly ecstatic, but they're upbeat, and you get the sense things are getting better. This is a stark contrast to his 60s trilogy, which ends with emotional ties broken and characters distraught.



One of the reasons I like it when WKW makes films in the present is because of the choices he can make musically. Happy Together has one of his best soundtracks, notably the Frank Zappa songs. The music really helps make the visuals more stylish.

So, the only thing that really hurts the film is my mind is Leslie Cheung, who plays characters that really bother me. This character is a throwback to Yuddy in Days of Being Wild. I guess what annoys me most about his characters is the fact that people are drawn to him even though he's such a mean guy. This may be bringing out my own issues, like, why are women always attracted to these charismatic, but shallow and nasty guys, instead of people who are actually nice and really care about stuff. But, you're not viewing the film in a vacuum, it's all about the personal emotional connection, and what you bring to a film has a large impact on what you get from the film. So, my distaste for people like Leslie may result in a skewed view of his relationship with Tony. But, I feel like I can take an objective enough point of view to recognize that while Leslie may have some redeeming characteristics, the work is ultimately about Tony liberating himself from this emotionally manipulative person, and expressing himself as an individual.

I think Happy Together is an incredible piece of work. It's at once different from everything that WKW has done, and at the same time, contains everything that makes his films great. The stylistic experimentation is his boldest to date, and it's full of really affecting emotional moments. This is the film that really put him on the world map, critically speaking, and with good reason. Watching this is watching the medium used to its full potential in the service of storytelling and visual artistry.

Ten Works that Changed My Life: Part II: 5-1

5. Buffy the Vampire Slayer - I don't think any work had a hold on me for such a long time as Buffy did. 144 episodes, plus 112 for Angel, just the sheer time I put in watching the show means it would have a big impact on me, but add to that the fact that this was such an amazing story and you've got something that really changed the way I look at storytelling. I think that Buffy did that no other work I've encountered has done is allow you to watch characters grow and change over a really long period. It's amazing to compare Willow from season one to Willow from season six because there's so much change, but at the core, it's still the same person, and I feel like that's what real life is like. So, Buffy had these massive character arcs, which proceeded along over seven years. It's just such a big story, following seven years in these peoples' lives.



Also, Buffy has made me much more open to relationship driven storytelling. This was a work where the plot was always secondary, it was primarily about the characters, and that's changed the way I would approach stories. In what I'd consider the best season, season six, there's not much outside plot, all the conflict comes organically out of the interaction between the characters. Seeing that sort of story opened me up to stuff like Six Feet Under, which is quite similar to Buffy, only without the vampires. This is the work that solidified for me the potential of telvision as a completely unique storytelling medium.

4. Twin Peaks - I wasn't sure whether to put Twin Peaks or Buffy higher up on this list, but I chose Twin Peaks, because it was Twin Peaks that led me to watch Buffy, it was the first TV series that really addicted me, and led me not only on to many other TV shows, it also led to me to all of David Lynch's other films. I think what Twin Peaks does that is so unique is create an atmosphere that makes the series like a place you can go to, rather than a bunch of people that you watch. So, the show really is about the town, not about the specific characters. Watching this show was such a strange experience, it's still the most bizarre TV series ever made, I remember watching the red room sequence for the first time, it was perhaps the most stupifying thing I'd ever seen, and still is, with the possible exception of the series finale, which left sitting there stunned for literally five minutes without moving, wishing that I could have just a little more.



It was actually Mulholland Drive that led me to watch the show, but TP really solidified my interest in David Lynch's work, and led me to check out all his other films, he's perhaps the most influential director for me in terms of the films I'd want to make. The surrealism, most notably in TP, was unlike anything I'd ever seen before, and I'd love to make stuff that otherworldly. Watching Lynch makes every other dream sequence or fantasy scene just seem pathetic, with the exception of Buffy's Restless. In Fire Walk With Me, Lynch makes a film that is incredibly surreal, constantly making you question what's going on, and yet keeps an emotional throughline, so that even if you don't know what is going on, you can feel what the characters are feeling, and I'd love to make a film that does the same thing. What this series also did was raise the bar on what I thought television was capable of. I'd never seen something with this level of serialization, or with lingering consequences like this. It was so refreshing, and sent me off to look for other series that would replicate the experiences. If I hadn't seen Twin Peaks, I probably would not have seen Buffy. Anyway, I guess most importantly, the show really made me think of what qualifies as strange in new ways, and the wordless storytelling in 2.7 or the last episode made a huge impact.

3. Watchmen - Before I read Watchmen, I was a casual comics fan, reading the occasional X-Men book. After reading Watchmen I was hooked for life. The book completely changed what I thought was possible with the medium of comics, it was the first comic book I read that I would consider art, and the way it used the medium was awe inspiring. This was also one of the first works that I really analyzed deeply on my own. Rereading the book, I discovered so many layers, and was just astounded by the world that Alan Moore had created. Part of what was so striking was the sense of discovery, I just picked up this book after hearing about it online and was stunned to find such an amazing work of art. I read a lot on the book after going through it, and it sent me out in search of a comic that would match it. In this search, I read a ton of great stuff, and eventually did find a comic to top Watchmen.



Part of the appeal for Watchmen, much like I talked about with Twin Peaks or Magnolia, is the way that it blends this perfect construction with incredibly emotional stuff. The Jon on Mars chapter is a really intricate view of 4D time, but it's also a really sad story of a man drifiting away from humanity. Very few things have hit me as hard as the end of this book, particularly the series of panels at the end of Chapter 11 and the opening of 12. So, this book made me want to make comics, and really changed what I thought was possible with the medium. I've thought about this book more than almost anything else I've read.

2. The Invisibles - After reading Watchmen, I went on a long quest to find a comic that would match it. I read some great books, but nothing that was on the level of Watchmen. Then in May 2002, I picked up the first volume of The Invisibles. This was a book I'd heard about because it was supposedly the basis for The Matrix, and I'd heard all kinds of things about it, like you didn't have to read it in order, etc. So, I pick up the first book, and I remember thinking, this was better than The Matrix, then I picked up the second book. I remember reading 'Best Man Fall,' and being shocked because I had had the exact same idea for a story, but Morrison did it so well mine was rendered irrelevant. Then, I got Entropy in the UK, and on the first page of the book, it just clicked. The whole book came together in one page, it was Gideon Stargrave driving a boat, blowing stuff up, and the sun looking like Barbelith, with a Pink Floyd quote below it. It was all there, the big ideas, the pop, the cool, and from then on, the series became an obsession for me.

I read through Kissing Mister Quimper, and then had to wait three months for the last trade to be released. So, I decided to reread it, and it was there that the series basically took over my thought process. I had an epiphany on almost every page, and by the time I reached Kissing Mister Quimper again, I was just in awe of what Morrison had done, and felt like I got it, I understood the book. Then, I read the last volume, all 12 issues in one day, the last six in one sitting, and I realized I didn't know anything, but there was something amazing there. Barely coherent, reading that last issue, Robin emerging from the timestream and hugging King Mob overwhelmed me. After that, I went onto the Barbelith message boards, and read everything I could about the book.

At the same time, I started loaning out comics to my friends, and I gave some of them The Invisibles, and as they read them, we began to talk about the ideas in the series, so that for months after finishing the series, I was still processing it and discovering new layers. While reading the books was a massive thing, it was really these discussions afterward that made it so valuable. The Invisibles was a gateway that opened me up to all kinds of new ideas about time, the universe, everything. An entire worldview is contained in the series.



But, the thing that made the series so important to me is that it's not just this dry instructional text, it's so incredibly pop. The Invisibles really created this concept of pop! for me, and it's guided me as I've gone along, uniting many of the works that I love the most. I think a lot of the reason I love Wong Kar-Wai so much is because he taps in to this same sort of pop as Morrison does. Morrison's work is so cool, every single moment is fun to read. So, it effects you both on the surface and very deeply. I think The Invisibles is the greatest work of fiction ever, and it exerts a huge influence on everything I create.

1. Star Wars Trilogy - Even though The Invisibles is so great, there is still one work that has exerted an even greater pull on my life, and that is the Star Wars trilogy. I can't even remember a time when I hadn't seen Star Wars, it's so ingrained in to me, they've always been there. It's like, you know you shouldn't eat grass, but can you remember a specific moment where you found out it's a bad idea, I just know these films. Star Wars has always been with me, I saw it when I was very young, and it was there that my love of film and science fiction began. Even at that very young age, I never wanted to be Luke Skywalker or Han Solo, rather I wanted to tell stories with people like Luke and Han. Star Wars was the first film I loved, and Empire is still my favorite film of all time. Sometimes I'll think there's got to be a better film than Empire, but then I watch it, and it does everything I love about cinema. The visuals are amazing, the score phenomenal, the characters really well developed, and you can't help but get caught up in the story. I've seen the film at least 50 times, and still, every time I see the lightsaber duel, the pure emotion of it is dazzling. I may not want to make something exactly like Star Wars, but I hope to one day make films that build a world like Star Wars does, to take you away from everyday life and give you a glimpse of something fantastic. If I hadn't seen Star Wars when I was young, it might not have hit me as hard, and I might not have gotten the desire to make films. So, I guess that's why it's the most influential work on me, it's always been there and it always will be. There's something so perfect about the fact that the Star Wars saga ends on the same day that I turn 20, because more than anything else that I've encountered, Star Wars has really shaped me.



It's been some good times watching movies and TV and reading comics. Looking at this list, it seems that the things that affect me most are those that blend some supernatural or sci-fi elements with well developed characters, and high emotional content. These are the works that make the world seem extraordinary in some way, and show that there is magic beneath that which seems ordinary.

Ten Works that Changed My Life: Part I: 10-6

Here, I'm going to write about the ten works of art that made the biggest impact on me, the works that changed the way I look at the world, and the way that I created fiction. If I hadn't encountered these works, I would be a very different person.

10. The Beatles 'Magical Mystery Tour' - When I was young, about eight or so, I was watching a documentary on The Beatles with my parents and I heard this song called 'I am the Walrus,' which was just the most bizarre song I'd ever heard. The lyrics were nonsensical, but reallly vivid, and the music was really off beat. I'd say this was the first song I really loved, and I have a really vivid memory of hearing it for the first time and just falling in love with that sound, so I listened to the whole 'Magical Mystery Tour' album, and that was the first album I really loved. It's still one of my favorite albums, and 'I am the Walrus' still stands out to me as one of the best songs ever made. This is the album that made me open to older stuff and made me explore a lot of different types of music.



9. Batman Returns - I first saw this film when in 1992, at the Mamaroneck theater. I remember getting a little poster for the film when I went to see it, and I also remember loving the movie. A few years later, I bought the movie on VHS and watched it a whole bunch of times. When I was younger, this film was #4 on my top films list, behind only the Star Wars trilogy. At the same time, I loved both the original Batman and Beetlejuice, and when the film Ed Wood came out, I realized they were all directed by the same director, Tim Burton. A few years later, when I was in eighth grade, I decided to rent Edward Scissorhands, because it too was directed by Tim Burton. I watched this and loved it, and it gave me a greater understanding of the thematic development of Batman Returns, something I applied when I watched it again. I also started to really investigate Danny Elfman's scores, and I bought the soundtrack to Batman Returns, my favorite score of his. So, what this film did was set off my first investigation of a filmmaker's whole body of work. Tim Burton was my favorite director for a long time, I sought out all his films and read a bunch of books on him. Even my Nightmare Before Christmas shirt, which I always wear, was a result of this.



So, I guess what makes the film so special to me was that it was really the lynchpin for my love of Burton's work. It was the thing that I loved enough to seek out his other work. I always loved the film in a way that went beyond just liking the action, there was something deeper there. Subsequent to viewing all Burton's work, I've gone through a number of other directors: Gilliam, Lynch, Wong, Linklater, Tarantino, etc. but I don't think I ever was so immersed in one director's work as I was in Burton's. A few weeks ago, I revisited Batman Returns and was struck by how amazing it still was. It's Burton's best film, visually magnificent, thematically rich, and still #8 on my all time best films list. I wrote a 23 page paper on the film, which I finished last week, and I felt like that wasn't even enough room to say what I wanted to about it. The film was crucial to making me view cinema as not just a bunch of random movies, but instead as the product of a director with a unique vision.

8. Chungking Express - Last year about this time, I saw the film Chungking Express in class, and I loved it. I bought the DVD soon after, and enjoyed it even more the second time. I love this film, but perhaps more important, it really changed the way I view the medium. I used to view cinema primarily from a storytelling context, and, while I appreciated technique, I saw that primairly as an additional cool element, but what this film, and Wong Kar-Wai's subsequent work did, was to make me see how every single frame of a movie could be an amazing experience in and of itself. His perfect synching of music and visual produces moments that don't need to be understood in the context of a story, but instead stand alone as just dazzling images. When I was shooting Ricky Frost over winter break, I just imitated a bunch of Wong Kar-Wai shots, particularly with the so called 'Chungking effect,' aka using a low shutter speed. This sent me off to Wong Kar-Wai's other movies, and watching them really changed the way I approach and create cinema. I would argue since seeing this film I have been in the Wong Kar-Wai stage, where his was the dominant type of story that dominated my views, and I viewed things in the context of his work. More than most of the works on here, he's made a huge impact on how I want to create cinema.



7. Blade Runner - Blade Runner is a film that reignited my love for science fiction, in a way that no film since has done, it's a film that really showed me how cinema has the potential to create entirely new worlds. And, watching this film sent me down a number of intersting paths. After seeing the film, I began to seek out the work of author Philip K. Dick, and reading his book VALIS exposed me to a ton of new ideas, paving the way for The Invisibles. In addition, it sent me to the internet, where I became a part of the alt.fan.blade-runner newsgroup, where I have been talking about the film for five years. I've never analyzed anything as long as I've talked about this film, and this paved the way for a lot more online participation in the film scene. Also, from reccomendations on the newsgroup, I found a number of my other favorite films, including Brazil and Leon: The Professional. Also, the work's primary theme, what is human, as well as its noir influences, has influenced a lot of what I've done. I guess what this film does is show me how well cinema can transport you to another world.



6. Magnolia - I think the moment Magnolia really clicked for me was when we see Claudia put an Aimee Mann song on, and quietly sing with it, then we cut to another character, and he's singing it too, and we cut to every character singing along to the song, a moment that could seem so goofy, but in the context of the work, is the most unbelievably heartbreaking moment, and that's when I knew that this wasn't just any movie, it was something so special. And, as the film was ending, I was wishing that it would go on just a bit longer, because I didn't want to leave its world, quite a feat considering it's a three hour film. As I said about Blade Runner, this is a work that creates a world, but this one is much more in our everyday world, what it does is take a bunch of individual dramas, and by weaving them together, makes it into a film that contains virtually the entirety of human emotion. I think that's what makes the work so special to me, the fact that by creating all these parallels, it makes simple stories into something so much larger.

I feel like more than any other work, I wish I could make something like Magnolia, something that's at once incredibly intimate and also epic. It instantly made me love multi-character films, with narrative weaves between the lives of many people. It made me want to make films like this, where we see many perspectives, and are able to compare them. The film I want to do over the summer is three different narrative strands that cross over, clearly influenced by Magnolia. In addition to this, the filmmaking technique completely changed my belief in what cinema could do. PT Anderson so perfectly used really showy technique to support characters' emotional development, and build an atmosphere around the film, so that even as we go through the lives of many characters, we feel like it's one unified story. This is largely due to the use of music, both Jon Brion's score and the Aimee Mann songs, which unite the characters. No matter how many times I see the film, I can't help but smile as Claudia does at the end of the film, because I feel like I've been through everything she's been through over the course of this day. One day I hope to make a film that is on the scale of Magnolia, and will have the emotional impact on other people that this film had one me.



Alright, that's it for the first five, tomorrow see what could possibly eclipse these absolutely brilliant works, and influenced me even more.

Days of Being Wild

Yesterday, I watched Wong Kar-Wai's Days of Being Wild for the second time. Days is his second film, and the first one I would really consider a Wong Kar-Wai film. His first, As Tears Go By, was a really typical late 80s Hong Kong gangster movie, that, despite some interesting shots, didn't quite work. When the best part of your movie is a montage set to a Cantopop version of 'Take My Breath Away,' you know things aren't going that well.

However, with Days, he makes a huge leap, and essentially creates the Wong Kar-Wai style that we know and love. Big cast, drifting narrative, episodic structure, voiceovers, great use of music, it's all here. The first time I saw the film I liked it, but I didn't love it. This time I loved it. In almost all his films, I feel like it takes until the second viewing to really appreciate things, because on the first viewing, you're so busy trying to figure out where you're going, you can't really appereciate the journey. If you have to worry about keeping track of character and plot arcs, it's difficult to just get lost in the amazing images and atmosphere of the film. The thing I find ironic about WKW's movies is that on the first viewing, you usually don't get the plot, you just get this feeling of what it is. It's not until the second or third viewing that you can really understand how the narrative works. This is so far removed from classical Hollywood tradition, and I think it's a big part of why his films have so much repeat value. It's almost like listening to an album, there is an overall progression, but it's not designed just for an end, each song or moment can sort of stand alone. So, like an album, you can watch the film a bunch of times and just get lost in the atmosphere of things

Days of Being Wild is the first part of WKW's 60s trilogy, which includes this, In the Mood for Love and 2046. The first time I watched this film I had seen In the Mood for Love, but I wasn't really aware of the connection between the two, and without 2046, I wasn't aware of the overall narrative arc of the piece. Seeing the three films as one story is so rewarding, and makes this already top notch film even better.

Days is almost like an overture to the next two films, introducing themes and character types that will be further developed in the two films to follow. Of all of WKW's favorite actors, Leslie Cheung is my least favorite, I'm not sure if it's him personally or just the roles he plays, but I don't like any of his characters. He always seems to play a quasi-abusive, very self centered character, and this film is no exception, but the film is an examination, and eventually, condemnation of this lifestyle, so it makes for an interesting sort of dance, as the film sees how far it can push him without making you outright dislike the guy. He's a tragic figure, and when he does die at the end, it's a sad moment, but when you see the way he treats Su-Li Zhen or Lulu/Mimi, it's tough to feel bad for what happened to him. He brought it on himself.

Looking at the overall narrative of the trilogy, York would seem to be who Tony Leung's Chow was in his younger days, and it's the personality he tries to reclaim in 2046. At the end of this film, we see Tony Leung combing his hair and getting ready for a night on the town, and he is clearly being set up as another York. The thing that changes for Chow is that he gets married, and settles down, and after that, he falls in love. York seems to be too emotionally distant to really feel anything for anyone, people get close to him, but he won't let them in. For Chow, the person he lets in is Maggie Cheung's Su-Li Zhen, who was previously in a relationship with York, which we see chronicled in this movie.

Perhaps Su-Li Zhen sees something of York in Chow, though at the end of this film, she claims to be over him. However, the last time we see her she is alone, shutting the doors on her ticket booth. So, despite having been successful in overcoming her attraction to York, and moving on from him, something that Mimi/Lulu is unable to do, she is still left alone, and it might be this loneliness that compels her to marry someone she doesn't love, and the same loneliness that leaves her open to the true love that Chow gives her.

One of the most heartbreaking scenes in this film is when we see the phone ringing, but Andy Lau isn't there to pick it up. The whole episode with Maggie Cheung and Andy Lau wandering around the city at night is probably my favorite sequence in this film. In many ways it ties into Fallen Angels, which was all about lonely people wandering through the city at night. It's an absolutely gorgeous sequence, the shadows of Andy Lau's policeman hat obscuring his face, and the same shadows leaping off of buildings onto Maggie. When I first saw the film I didn't think much of it visually, but in those scenes, you can really see the roots of WKW and Christopher Doyle's best work, and shots like the hitman and the agent sitting in the restaurant during Fallen Angels.

Anyway, this episode perfectly captures that feeling at the end of Fallen Angels, best said in the film's final words, "We didn't have far to go, and I knew I would be getting off soon, but at that moment, I felt such warmth." In Days, both Andy and Maggie leave to go their seperate ways, but they always have that night, and the connection they shared that deeply affects each of them. Andy, after not hearing from her, goes off to be a sailor, quite similar to Chow who leaves Hong Kong at the end of In the Mood For Love. At the end of the film, we see Su-Li Zhen calling the payphone, but no one answers. This is an exact parallel to the end of In the Mood For Love, in which she calls Chow, wanting to go away with him, but he has already left. It's heartbreaking both times, and to think of how much her life would have changed if either one of them would have answered those calls. Instead, Maggie remains trapped, and Chow and Andy wander aimlessly.

When we meet up with Andy again, he's clearly still thinking about Maggie, and wishing that she'd have called him. He goes along with York on his criminal exploits, and eventually is with York as he dies. I originally thought of Chow as being attractive to Su-Li Zhen because of his similarity to York, but I think it also has a lot to do with his similarity to Andy. Unhappy with York and her husband, Su-Li Zhen needs someone to confide in, in 1960 it is Andy, in 1966, it is Chow. Both offer her sympathy and genuine interest, which neither her husband or York did. Sadly for each of them, she is too late to realize how they feel about her, and by she does realize, there's no one on the other end of the phone.

2046 is a more obvious reprisal of Days of Being Wild, as Tony Leung's Chow moves into the York position, of having copious amounts of women, but not being able to connect with any of them, despite, at least in the case of Zhang Ziyi, their real love for him. Watching 2046 the first time, I was really surprised and moved by the sequence in which Chow runs into Lulu/Mimi from Days, and we get a reprise of the music, over photos of Leslie and Mimi. Just like Chow, she has been burned by someone she loved, and is now alone. The cycle continues when she does the same thing to Chang Chen, and he attacks her, almost killing her.

Just like York, we see Chow having a bunch of relationships which are meaningless to him, but mean a lot to the women involved. That said, I think Tony Leung does a great job of making us sympathetic towards his character, something that Leslie Cheung couldn't do. This is also due to t Also, I think York is just off in his own world, and never could fall in love, whereas Chow is lost because he can never find a love that matches what he had with Su-Li Zhen. But, this leads to similar results. The relationship between Chow and Zhang Ziyi is essentially the same as between York and Lulu, and things go bad for all involved.

The two films have similar endings, York is riding the train alone, and Chow is riding alone in the back of a car. York is dead, but I didn't feel too much for him, however what happens to Chow really got to me, as he longs for this past he can never get back. Because of his love for Maggie, he cannot enjoy living the bachelor life he used to live, and he ends up just trying to get back there, but forever unable to.

So, Days of Being Wild does a great job of setting up the stuff to come in the next two films, and is really interesting on its own also. I used to say this wasn't really essential to the story of In the Mood For Love/2046, but looking at it now, I'd say it probably should be watched because even if it isn't connected to the plot of the two latter films, the characters and atmosphere all start here.

Kubrick's Lolita and The Heroic Trio

As I mentioned on here before, my birthday is shaping up to be pretty ridiculous. I've had the release of Episode III at midnight for a while, then over break I found out the Doves were doing a show in New York on May 19, so between those two things, it seemed there was no room for things to get even better. But wait, I got an e-mail telling me that Aimee Mann was doing an in store performance and signing of her new album on May 19, at 6:30, so I can fit it in before the Doves concert, and I'll be in the city anyway, so it'll be free. So, not only am I getting a new Star Wars movie, I'm also seeing two of my favorite musicians back to back, all on my birthday. It's going to be such a crazy day, really the way to start my 20s.

Besides that, I saw a couple of interesting films recently. Over the weekend, I watched Stanley Kubrick's 1962 film, Lolita. Now, Kubrick is indisputably one of the masters of cinema, and 2001 is one of my top ten films of all time, and now that I've seen Lolita, I've seen all except three of his films. However, while Kubrick has made some absolutely genius films, I would draw a clear line between his pre 1964 output and his post 1964 output. The films he makes post 1964, starting with Dr. Strangelove are all visually dazzling, really challenging films. 2001, A Clockwork Orange, Barry Lyndon, The Shining, Eyes Wide Shut, all these are great films. However, his earlier films seem to be very much the products of the Hollywood studio era, whose strict regulations compromise his vision.

Lolita has the potential to be a great film, but the film that Kubrick makes, while entertaining, is ultimately a failure, largely because restrictions on content prevented him from telling the story. Obviously, even today, Lolita walks in territory that makes a lot of people uncomfortable, and I can understand why people would be very wary about how to depict things in this film, but what ultimately happens is Kubrick is able to show so little that the film loses its emotional impact.



The film is about a middle aged guy who falls in love with the teenage daughter of his landlady, and the story goes on to explore the effect that relationship has on him. Considering the primary relationship in the film is between Humbert and Lolita, this is the whole reason the film exists, it's very unfortunate that the content restrictions means we don't ever really see what their relationship entails. The first chunk of the film is pretty solid, as we see Humbert caught in a love triangle with Lolita and her mother.

However, once he and Lolita go out on the road, things get really muddled. Picking up on some clues, you come to realize that he and Lolita have a sexual relationship, but you never get a moment in the film where he makes the choice to actually be with her in that way. How he could do this would seem to be the most interesting question coming out of this material, but the film just skips over that and we have to infer what's going on between them. I have no problem with not telling everything, but playing detective takes you out of the story, and I was too busy trying to figure out exactly what was going on to be emotionally affected by anything. You can't understand Humbert after a certain point in the story, and while the film never is boring, it's not emotionally engaging either.

Peter Sellers' performance is emblematic of this. He's great, and the scene where he is introduced dancing at the school is so 60s, great stuff. But then, as the film goes on, there are lengthy segments that seem to be improvised that are more about Sellers' performance than adding to the story. He is funny, but doesn't add anything to the main story.

Ultimately, this film is a victim of its time. Maybe in the 70s or 80s Kubrick could have made a great film of Lolita, one that really examined the relationship between Lolita and Humbert, but this one can't show anything, so we don't understand the characters, and as a result, it's not a successful film. And it's not just the content restrictions that feel outdated, this film feels very studio era, like it could have been made in the 40s or 50s. If you want to learn about how much movies changed with the end of the studio era compare this film to A Clockwork Orange, made a mere nine years later. There's a big difference.

Then today in action film class, I watched a very different film than Lolita called The Heroic Trio. It's a 90s Hong Kong action film that I wouldn't call a great film, but was incredibly entertaining. It's a really bizarre and over the top sort of superhero film about an evil guy who's kidnapping babies, and the trio of ladies who have to team up to destroy him.

The most notable thing about this film for me was Maggie Cheung. She's one of my favorite actresses, and arguably the best actress in the world today. Her work in 'In the Mood For Love' is astonishing in how little it takes for her to convey huge emotions, and in ten minutes of 'Ashes of Time,' she steals the movie. Other than Wong Kar-Wai, she was also great in 'Irma Vep,' playing a fictionalized version of herself. In that film, we see clips from the film that inspired the director to cast Maggie, and as I soon found out, those clips were from The Heroic Trio.



Her role as Chat the Thief Catcher in The Heroic Trio is very different from everything else I've seen Maggie Cheung in. Other than Irma Vep, I'd only seen her in more serious films, and my image of her is from the suffocating world of In the Mood for Love. So, I was surprised to see how funny she was in this film. She provides the comic relief, and is at such high energy throughout the film you almost feel bad that she has to hold back so much in her recent films. She just looks like she's enjoying making the movie so much, and that sense of fun is contagious.



The film is really bizarre. The main villain is really bizarre looking, and his underworld dungeon is a nasty environment. The changes in tone are quite drastic. One minute Maggie Cheung's motorcycle is spinning across a room, the next imprisoned children are eating the flesh off a dead man. But, throughout it, there's this sense of pop irreverence, that they're all having fun, making this wacky film. There's a lot of interesting angles and off kilter stuff throughout the film. My favorite shot is Chat riding her motorcycle in front of the two other trio members on horses.

It's not a film you watch expecting it to make sense, it's a film you watch for some bizarre, over the top fun.

Index

I figured since I've got so many posts on here, I might as well put together an index, so that people can figure out exactly what I have talked about over time. And that page is now available here at pmeaney.web.wesleyan.edu/blogindex.html, so bookmark that and you can read all these great articles any time.

The index is not complete yet, I've only got through January, but in the next couple of days, I'll finish it up, and also add a link to the side of the page, so you can get to it easier. And also, on the index page, I'm going to make a list of the posts I think are the best reading. So, look forward to that, and in the meantime catch up on some classics you might have missed.

Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story

I just finished watching Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story, an excellent short film from director Todd Haynes, someone who has quickly become one of my favorite directors, after seeing this, Far From Heaven and Safe. The man's a brilliant filmmakers, and one of these people who has a really tight knit set of films, which build on each other thematically, so when I see another film of his, I appreciate the others even more.

So, before you read this, I would highly reccomend that you go here and download the film. It's on bit torrent and will probably take a few hours to download. It's a fabulous film, and you can see it for free, so you have no excuse. Once you download and view, you can return, and check out my thoughts on the film. Seriously, it's worth the download.



Anyway, Superstar was the first film Todd did, and it was made for his masters thesis while he was still in film school, so he was making this with basically no resources and minimal budget, which is tough when trying to tell the story of a major rock personality like Karen Carpenter. So, what he does is use a lot of stock footage, and for his main cast he uses Barbie dolls made up to look vaguely like the real people they are representing. It's the sort of thing that sounds really goofy, and as someone who made a few movies with action figures years ago, I know that it doesn't always work out, but here, Haynes pulls it off, and you really care about these doll characters.

As a result of having no budget, Haynes used all the songs in the film without obtaining the rights for them, so Richard Carpenter sued him to keep the film from being distributed, and Mattel did as well. The songs are so integral to the film, there'd be no point in releasing it without them, so this is a film that is destined to remain underground forever. However, thanks to the internet, I was able to download and view it, and after seeing it, it's tragic that this film isn't available in a better format, because the quality hurts on the download, and also this is a film that cries out for supplemental material from Haynes, and background on the real Carpenter.

Putting aside the issues outside the film, which could make a great film of their own, we've got the work, which stands as an absolutely riveting 43 minutes. The film actually prefigures the 90s/00s Behind the Music culture that would develop in the years after this film's release. This basically is a Behind the Music parody before Behind the Music even existed. While the idea of this mockumentary biography was still pretty fresh back in 1987 when the film was made, but now it's been done many a time, from Beneath the Dome: The R2D2 story to Pi: Behind the Number by my own friends Jordan and Steve. So, this is a form that was already getting a bit stale five years ago, and that might lead you to believe that this film here would not hold up. However, that is not the case, because despite seeming like a parody on the surface, the film is actually quite serious and very dark.

The film has the feeling that few films achieve of existing in a world completely its own, where you're just transported away to a new and different place, one that in this case is quite unsettling. The film that most did this for me was Eraserhead, which freaked me out solely because the world was so different. This film is similarly unsettling, as the Barbies interact, and all other sorts of footage are cut in. Haynes just immerses you in Carpenter's world, and despite the nondiegetic titles, you're always in the story, and it's just an odd world to go to. Most big budget Hollywood movies have a finished quality, a sheen about them, but when you go to lower budget stuff, things feel different, and this difference can be unsettling. That's why I think all horror movies should be grainy, low budget things, because something like Blair Witch or even Texas Chainsaw Massacre the 70s version, has this creepy alien feeling, and that's what this film has.

As the film goes on, you're still aware that the characters are dolls, but Haynes does such a good job of making them characters as well, you can see beyond their plastic makeup, and into their frequently plastic personalities. As Karen goes along, her story is tragic and disturbing, the film never moves into parody, it's always dark and foreboding.

The device of using the Barbie dolls, beside allowing for a lower budget, ties in to the story's themes brilliantly. One of the main points of the films is that The Carpenters' music was this completely artificial, syrupy pop reassurance that had no relevance to the changing society that they were living in. It was purely escape from the disturbing issues the 60s had brought to the fore. I would disagree with the idea that music should be required to make social commentary, I do like the fact that Haynes makes The Carpenters so vehemently anti-political, preferring to create this folksy down home image that is a conservative backlash against the strife of the 60s. So, having plastic dolls perform this plastic music based on a constructed image is perfectly appropriate. I love how Richard always has the same cheesy smile and perfect hair, even as he is getting angry at Karen.



The other area that the doll is the perfect device for addressing is one of the film's primary discussions, the idea of societal pressure on women to have their bodies conform to a certain expectation, one epitomized by the barbie doll itself. The film is primarily concerned with exploring Karen's anorexia and it does a really good job of making us understand her. Throughout the entire film, Karen is manipulated by her family to create the image they need for their music, and she has no control over herself, so she decides to take control of her body, but in the process, goes overboard and develops the anorexia that is her undoing. Anorexia is portrayed as something that makes her simultaneously powerless and powerful, because this is the only area where she can resist what everyone else wants her to do, if she doesn't want to eat, no one can make her, and even they do, that will only deepen her affliction.

By the end, she recognizes what she's doing is a mistake, but she just can't stop, she is addicted, her anorexia which started as something she chose to do has become a disease that controls her. It's almost paradoxical that you're watching this doll, and really wishing that she would just eat something and beat this.

The film has a ton of parallels with the other two Haynes films that I've seen, Safe and Far from Heaven. All three are about women who are living lives they are not in control of, and engage in societally unacceptable practices to combat the imprisonment. Karen is quite similar to both Carol and Kathy in that she doesn't have to think for herself, she just follows the rules and has an easy life, but she needs control. For her, this comes in the form of the anorexia, which becomes a disease just like Carol's problems in Safe. Both Safe and Superstar are drawn from the Disease of the Week TV Movie, in which we watch someone suffer through an illness that could in theory happen to us. It's all about the main character's suffering from something they can't control, and watching how it disrupts their normal life.

Karen's problems are actually treated in a similar way as Frank's homosexuality in Far From Heaven. All the characters around them don't understand why they can't just stop not eating or being gay. It seems so easy, but that's to ignore the fact that certain behaviors are deeply held and to sublimate them to is to destroy oneself. Karen can't just eat, she needs to overcome the deeper problems within her, and for Frank, he has to confront the fact that he cannot keep lying to himself and expect to be happy.

I think Haynes' biggest issue is with showing how characters who seem to have it all may in fact be the most unhappy. All of the three main characters here are forced by society to do things they do not want to do, and it leads to unhappiness and reaction against societal norms.

The film makes amazing use of music, contrasting The Carpenters' smooth sounds with the trauma Karen is undergoing. There's an early scene where they're recording Close to You, and she messes up, and is angry about it. It's startling to hear her anger come in the middle of this sweet sounding song. A similar scene is when she is performing and collapses on stage in the middle of one of their songs.



The film uses a lot of avant garde techniques, cutting to found footage, a repeated motif of a hand tapping to the beat of the songs, but the strong character arc and great use of music keep the film emotionally relevant, even with the avant garde stuff. So, you can ponder the meaning of cuts, but that's not all that the film is about. I think the editing is great, and what it does is place Karen's story in the context of society as a whole, particularly with the editing of Vietnam clips, and the scene where they sing for Nixon.

If I have any complaints, it would be that some of the titles are difficult to read because they are the same color as the background. Also, as I said before, I take issue with the idea that doing this sappy type of music during a time of war is somehow ignorant of larger societal issues. Not every piece of music need address politics and society, sometimes a good song is just a good song, and The Carpenters did a bunch of those. But, I'm imagine if Haynes did an entire film about Karen Carpenter, he has more than a passing affection for her music.

Ultimately, the film is a harrowing depiction of a disease that destroys Karen, despite her best efforts to beat it, as well as a society retreating from the change of the sixties and moving into a more conservative time, a return to 'traditional values.' In that respect, the film is as relevant today as it ever was, and the sort of clean cut, sappy image has moved from music to politics. I'm tempted to say that this is Haynes' best work, because of just how dense the film is, with fully drawn characters presented in a short running time.

And it's a shame that the film can't be widely distributed. Music rights, while they do protect the artist, are so annoying, and as a filmmaker, I wish that some sort of deal could be worked out to let low budget films use the music they want. It's very frustrating. But, that has only added to the film's aura, this is the film they don't want you to see! And, considering the way he is portrayed in the film, I doubt Richard Carpenter is going to be letting you see this one anytime soon.

Aliens

Yesterday I watched the movie Aliens for the first time. I saw the original a couple of years ago, and I liked it, but I wasn't a huge fan. However, this semester I'm taking a course on action films, and Aliens came up a bunch of times, so I figured I needed to see it and it was most impressive.

I'm usually not that big a fan of action movies, most of the stuff I've seen in class I've liked, but not loved. A film like Die Hard is undeniably entertaining, but it doesn't really go beyond that. However, Aliens went way beyond just being entertaining, it was one of the best action films I've ever seen.

I think there's a big difference between an action film and a film with action. Oldboy has a lot of action, but I wouldn't consider it an action movie, because the action comes out of the plot, rather than the plot coming out of the action. In Die Hard, the entire film is designed to give you action sequences, whereas Oldboy happens to have some action sequences, but the film could exist without them. Without the action sequences, Aliens would have no second half, because at about the halfway point of the film, it goes into an extended series of action sequences that last for the whole rest of the film.

The first half of the movie is good, it succinctly sets up the situation and follows up what happened in the original. It's also admirable that the film has such long buildup. There's no opening action sequence, and no real action until halfway through the movie. This allows for good setup of characters, and also creates more suspense, so that by the time they reach the planet, you really are wondering, what's up here, and when are we finally going to see some aliens. But, during the first half I was never bored, and that's what makes the film so effective. In an action film, the longer you can go without an action sequence, while still keeping the audience's attention, the better, because it will make each action sequence more rewarding.

Looking at this film, when they finally do open fire on an alien, it's so satisfying because we've been waiting for it for so long. A similar sequence would be in Return of the Jedi, where Luke, The Emperor and Darth Vader spend so much time talking, it's incredibly satisfying when Luke finally gets his lightsaber and begins to fight. If this whole movie had been them killing aliens, you wouldn't have this satisfaction, the thrill comes solely from the buildup.

That's one of the main problems I have with the Michael Bay style of editing, where everything in an action sequence is cut incredibly quick. In an action sequence, fast editing has its virtues, and Wong Kar-Wai used it to great effect in Ashes of Time, but if you want to make a film that will involve audience emotions in the action sequence, you need long shots to build things up. I would say there's a difference between spectacle driven action and emotion driven action. If you use really fast editing, you can make cool looking scenes, like in Blade II, but you're not going to involve the audience emotionally, and thus, you leave the audience to just admire the surface, and not go deeper. The quick cutting can be a spectacle in and of itself, but slower shots are absoultely essential to both involving the audience and allowing the visual to really sink in.

The whole second half of the film is one of the most engaging action sequences I've seen, and it is not just because the action stuff is so cool, but rather because of the character relationships that have been developed. Cameron does an amazing job of maintaining tension for a really long time, and even with the fact that he barely shows the aliens.

Looking at this film in the context of Cameron's ouevre, you can see clear connections with Terminator 2. If that flim was a treatment on fatherhood, this one would be about motherhood. I think this film has a deeper, more realistic parent-child relationship, largely because Sigourney Weaver is a much better actress than Arnold, and also because this film doesn't have as many comedy elements. Terminator 2 is a great movie, but it has a certain level of ridiculousness that the film is always aware of, and this film doesn't have that, which makes for a more intense, satisfying viewing experience.

A lot of the times, I view film in an analytical way, looking for layers and subtext, but in the case of this film, it's all about the emotional involvement. When Ripley goes back to look for Newt, you are willing her on, despertately hoping that she will find her. If you are looking for analytical content in the film, it would come in the discussion of motherhood, particularly the duel between Ripley and the Queen on the ship at the end. That sequence was amazing, and there's so much tension as you watch her shove the queen out into space, while Bishop is holding onto Newt. Just the images in that sequence are so great.

So, this is a film that just owns. You watch it and are completely absorbed into another world, which is what movies are all about. Is it perfect? No, but it's a top notch film experience.

Ashes of Time

Earlier today, I watched Wong Kar-Wai's film, Ashes of Time. Anyone who's hung out with me in the past six months or so has probably already heard me extorting the virtues of Wong Kar-Wai, and by the end of last year, I had seen all of his films. I loved them all, with the exception of As Tears Go By, his really weak first film, and Ashes of Time, his wuxia Kung-Fu movie, which I liked, but was very, very confused by. I've seen so many movies, I'm able to follow most of them, but this one was just perplexing. It didn't help that it was one of the worst DVDs I'd ever watched, with sub-VHS quality, making it difficult to tell who was who. Anyway, I got another DVD version a while back, but I hadn't watched the film, I think I was a little intimidated, not quite ready to go back to the confusing world that WKW had created, but tonight I finally did, and what I saw was stunning.

The first time I saw Ashes of Time, I was so confused, I couldn't really enjoy it. This time I was paying attention very closely, keeping track of character names and trying to place things in chronological order, not an easy task in this film. But, I did follow the film, and I was amazed at how great it was, and how well it fits into WKW's overall canon. This film prefigures a lot of the stuff he talks about in 2046, particularly with the mystery wine.

The film has three basic plot segments, all involving Leslie Chung as Ouyang. In the first segment, he runs into Evil East, played by Tony Leung Kar-Fai. This is not the Tony Leung of 2046 or Chungking Express, it's another, who I shall henceforth refer to as Kar-Fai. Anyway, the opening of the film jumps all over, in an almost Lynchian way, blending time and memory, in a way that is confusing at first, but nicely sets the tone for the film. Evil East is being pursued by a dual personality woman, known as Yin, or Yang when she is dressed as a man. In the second, Ouyang commissions people to defend a town from a gang of horse thieves, and in the third, he reflects on his own life.



All of WKW's films neglect traditional ideas of narrative, but this might be his most abstract. He does a great job of just capturing feelings, rather than telling a traditional story. In the first segment, there's an amazing scene where Ouyang and Yin/Yang are in bed together, and each is fantasizing about the person they really love. It's the sort of thing that's confusing on first viewing, but once you know the basic character conflicts, it's amazing, because it places you in both of their minds. In the film, and all of WKW's work, most characters feel a longing for something else, another time or place. This scene prefigures the plot of 2046, in which Tony Leung sleeps with a bunch of women, all the while seeking to recapture the feeling he had with Maggie Cheung back in In the Mood For Love.



The film is a series of love triangles, in which people long for that which they can't have, and the people who do have love are somehow separated from the people they love. WKW does a great job of showing this visually, such as in the gorgeous scene where Kar-Fai goes to a cave where Peach Blossom, Tony Leung's wife is waiting for him. Her sensual ties to the water and the horse prefigure the similar scenes with the hitwoman in Fallen Angels throwing herself onto the jukebox in the bar.

The characters in this film are forced to choose between love and fighting. Leslie chooses to fight, and ends up regretting it, because he has become nothing more than a shell, asking people the same questions and continually watching his friends either die or move on, while he stays the same. He is a prisoner of his past, torn by his memories of Maggie Cheung. The scene between Kar-Fai and Maggie Cheung is heartbreaking, such that when watching the film the first time, I wasn't really sure what was happening, but I got the emotion. Having followed the story, it's even more effective, and in ten minutes, Maggie steals the entire movie. The fate she has here is probably the same one that befalls her character from In the Mood For Love.

The magic wine, which erases ones memory is thematically quite similar to the whole idea of 2046. WKW's films are frequently about people tormented by memories and past loves, unable to move on. In his films set in the present day, the people frequently do get over it. Takeshi in Chungking gets over Mae, and by the end of Fallen Angels, it seems like the agent has gotten over the hitman. Similarly in Happy Together, where for the first time, we see Tony Leung free of worry and doubt. In his films set in the past, the weight of memory seems more inescapable. Here, Ouyang finds himself crippled by his memories of Maggie, unable to move on, and unable to face her again. He is caught in a stasis, much like the one that Chow has in 2046.

The magic wine is seen as the solution to all the character's problems, because it just makes the memories go away. But, that doesn't work, Ouyang is still drawn to his hometown, where he knew Maggie. In 2046, the train represents the opportunity for a do-over, rather than forgetting the past, it's a chance to recapture and do it right, to never lose the emotional ties that have become a curse. In both films, love is a prison, presenting characters from moving on, and alienating those around them. It's heartbreaking to know that Maggie and Ouyang both love each other, but neither has the guts to go after that love.



Besides the thematic ties, the work uses the style that WKW developed in Chungking and Fallen Angels, and applies it to the wuxia genre. It's notable that this is a Wong Kar-Wai film that happens to be in the kung-fu genre, rather than a kung-fu film that happens to be directed by Wong Kar-Wai. It uses the conventions of the genre, but more notably uses the themes and style of Kar-Wai. During fight scenes, he uses the low shutter speed 'Chungking' effect, and absurdly quick cutting. The fight scenes are more about showcasing the editing than showcasing the fighting, and the fighting itself isn't particularly impressive. The really bizarre fight scenes are the ones involving Brigitte Lin that just involve huge torrents of water exploding into the sky.

I still don't have a great DVD, but even without great quality, the film is still visually dazzling. The cave sequence, the Maggie sequences, the desert vistas, I still prefer WKW's urban films, but this is a good looking piece. The thing I love about the film is that WKW makes these mythic figures real people. Even in a great martial arts film, like Hero, the characters are mythologized, as they are in most films set in the past. This is one of the few historical films where the characters feel painfully real, and have relatable conflicts rather than these sort of mythic ones about honor and loyalty. That's my primary problem with period films, the characters speak and behave in an artificial way, but WKW's people have the same problems as modern characters, they are just filtered through the lens of this past society.

So, this isn't an easy film, but it's one that's definitely worth checking out. It's full of the great images and style you'd expect with WKW, and it's interesting to see how he takes his usual themes and applies them to a different genre. I'm going to have to see this a couple of more times, and hopefully a better DVD, with the proper language track, and some quality bonus material will be released soon.

Bad Horror Movies

Why is it that any horror movie, no matter how poorly reviewed, inevitably opens at number one at the box office? This weekend, The Amityville Horror, which had no big stars, was a massive success. I'm a huge Philip Baker Hall and Melissa George fan, but I don't think too many people are going to see the movie just because of them. And it's not even just this one, earlier this year, Boogeyman opened at number one, and was a big success. I mean, the movie was called Boogeyman, there's no way that's going to be good, and yet it still makes so much money.

I guess what bothers me is that any bad horror movie makes so much money, and that means we're going to see more of those, while it still remains very difficult to get funding for quality indie movies. I've never been a fan of the horror genre, I liked The Shining and some of Hitchcock's stuff, but generally speaking, I prefer movies that aim to do more than just scare you. Horror is an element that can be used in movies to great effect, as in a film like Irreversible or Oldboy, but those films did much more than just try to scare you.

I think that's one of the basic rules of genre filmmaking, particularly comedy and horror. I love a film that's funny, but it's not enough to just be funny, there need to be good characters, visuals or something else to keep you interested. If you have really well developed characters, it's so much easier to do comedy. Looking at TV, on Buffy, the comedy episodes were much funnier than the material (which was still good) just because we knew so much about the characters, and the writers were able to play off their established traits. Similarly, the horror moments were more effective because we actually cared about the characters.

Watching The Grudge earlier this year, I saw a film that was little more than a bunch of scenes of people popping up suddenly, to startle you, not scare you. Most horrro films don't actually get under the surface, they just frighten you on the surface, then move on. I much prefer a film that is disturbing and lingers with you long after the initial viewing, but I guess most people don't, sicne they keep going to these bad horror movies. And, going to films now, at least half of the trailers are for this type of horror movie, the end is not in sight.

Bulworth

Yesterday, I watched Bulworth. I saw the film once before, back in 1999 when it first came out on video, and I remember liking it, so when I saw it on sale for $5 over break, I picked it up. Now, I wasn't sure if this would be one of those movies that I remembered being good, and then not living up the memory. Considering its emphasis on ebonics, it's the sort of film that could very easily seem dated, and in some ways, hte language is a little bit old, but its main points are even more relevant now than they were back in 1998 when the film first came out. It's an essential film for George Bush's America.

The film is about a senator who gets sick of talking about 'being on the doorstep of a new millenium,' in speech after speech and decides to actually tell the truth, in the process becoming something of a folk hero. Along the way, he moves through a poor black community and begins to understand the real effect that a lack of jobs is having on the community, all while trying to outrun an assassin. I think the film is very successful, both as a story and as a political statement. In 1998, when the film was made, the neoconservative movement was beginning to move to the fore in political discourse, and the idea that liberal is a dirty word became a common belief. Bulworth's opponent calls him an "old liberal wine trying to pour himself into a new conservative bottle," which is something I could easily see Bush saying to John Kerry, and in the next election, I could definitely see the Democrats bringing out an even more conservative person to appeal to the "family values" crowd.



The film is a fantasy, but it's one that really connected with me. Watching debates, and seeing candidates say the exact same things, never deviating from the script is frustrating. At the Democratic convention this year, you saw Kerry giving really coded insults about Bush, when he should outright tell people what he's doing. It's not that tough, and yet he never does, and that's what's so frustrating, that no one can simultaneously just tell the truth about what Bush is doing and present a compelling alternative view. So, when Bulworth finally does start telling the truth, it's riveting, and not just because I largely agree with what he's saying. Poliitics has become so much about masks and compromise, and it seems like the further up you go, the more compromised people become, until only the most bland person can become president, which means it would take a sudden rebirth, like the one by Bulworth here to really change things.

The thing that makes the film stand out from something like Fahrenheit 9/11 is that the characters are well developed and there's a sense of fun about things, rather than outrage. In most documentaries on these sorts of issues, especially Michael Moore ones, there's this sense of outrage that is just channeled into whining and jokeyness, there's a feeling of futility. What he does is try to get an awkward moment rather than dialogue. With Bulworth, there's a sense of empowerment and joy that comes with exposing the truth. He is certainly annoyed with the system, but he's also out there trying to change it, and that makes the film a compelling journey. You actually care about the characters, and the story is told in a really interesting way.

From a filmmaking perspective, there's a lot of interesting stuff going on. I really like the scenes in the ghetto, which are a great contrast to the early part of the film which moves through really wealthy areas. You get the sense of this place as a warzone, and you can understand what creates an operation like the one run by LD.



And, I think the film does a good job of avoiding the old white man raps and dresses like young black person cliches, especially considering the number of recent films that involve this sort of joke. What Bulworth does is basically adopt the posturings of the people he is trying to help, and places himself on their level.

Spoilers Below for the end...

And for people who see the film as merely a fantasy, the ending brings it back down to reality, becoming almost allegorical, as the symbol of big insurance gets revenge for what Bulworth has done over the course of the film. I really like the ending because of the way it breaks through the fantasy, and ties in nicely with the idea of the 60s as a liberal utopia. Earlier in the film, Nina mentions how all of the black leaders got killed, not to mention both Kennedys, so it's logical that Bulworth, who tries to change the system gets a similar deal. However, you can see that what he did has already changed things, particularly notable in the behavior of LD, who is now trying to use his power to help change things. So, the film seems to say that even though trying to change things might get you killed, it's still worth doing because just the disruption to the system will be enough to get things going right.

The film is just so relevant to today's political world, I really wish it could be rediscovered. In a world where the Janet Jackson scandal is bigger than Bush lying about WMDs in Iraq, we really need this kind of honest rebuke of the US political process, and most importantly pointing out the fact that even though they are marginally better, Democrats really are not cutting it as an opposition party. Could something like this ever happen? I don't know, I'd like to think that it could, but the fact that it never has would indicate we'll never see a politician do something so radical, even though I have the feeling that it would lead to him being embraced by the public. But, that doesn't mean it's not a good film, because by showing what a politician could do, it exposes the real failure of almost all today's politicians, something that's only gotten worse in the years since the film.

Next Year's Classes

Earlier this week I registered for classes for next semester. Unlike a lot of people, I'm pretty happy with it, and got all the stuff I wanted. I am taking...

Sight and Sound (Film Production)
History of the American Film Industry in the Studio Era
Colloquium on American Studies and Cultural Studies
It's About Time (Physics course)

I probably already know a lot of the film production stuff, since I work with the same cameras and stuff they have here at LMC, but I may get more of an artistic standpoint here, as opposed to just shine enough light on the person to make them show up. The studio era is an era I don't know that much about, so it'll be good to learn, though I'm not a huge fan of the films from that era (in comparison to the best of modernity), but sometimes it's good to branch out and to continue my study of the classics. The colloquim is a requirement, but I really liked the discussion oriented class on youth culture this semester, so hopefully another discussion oriented class will be equally good. This physics course is a risk, I'm hoping it'll give me some of the science background behind the Grant Morrison view of time, not just a bunch of equations. But, it's my farewell to math and science, so I might as well do something potentially interesting.

This year has gone by so fast, one could find it depressing, but I prefer to look at it as a good thing, since it means I'm doing stuff and am not bored. This summer I've got some good stuff coming up. I'm still hoping to track down an internship for May and June, before I return to LMC camp. You'd think it'd be easier to find a place to work if you are willing to do so for no money. but, I guess in the glamourous world of film and television, there is a labor surplus.

My birthday this year could be the greatest birthday of my life. At midnight I'll be seeing Star Wars: Episode III. It's been a long wait for this, sixteen years maybe, I don't even know when I first saw the original Star Wars, but shortly after that I heard about these prequels and I've been waiting for them. I remember years ago, in 1994 maybe, I was talking about how they were going to rerelease the original trilogy in 1997 (years into the future) and then the prequel trilogy in 1999, 2002 and 2005. 2005 seemed like a world away, but now we're here, and on my twentieth birthday, I shall finally complete the saga. It's appropriate because I don't think any experience so influenced me as seeing Star Wars. Without that, I don't know if I would have wanted to go into film, or if it would be such a passion for me. Then at night on May 19, I'm going to see Doves, one of my favorite bands, in concert for the first time. I really wanted to go see them back in September 2002, but I went to see Catch 22 instead, and I regretted it, but now I shall alleviate this and finally see them in concert. This is one massive day, with two huge events. It may be my best birthday yet.

Irony and Filmgoing

As someone who absolutely loves movies, I think there's nothing better than going to a film with an audience that loves it and is completely engrossed in it. Watching Star Wars: Attack of the Clones at a midnight screening was probably the best filmgoing experience I ever had, it wasn't the best film, but I never had more fun, or was so connected to a collective feeling during a screening. Before the film started, I over heard the people behind me talking coolly about the film, clearly not expecting too much. Anyway, the Yoda lightsaber scene hits, and the guy was practically hyperventilating just repeating "Oh shit" over and over again, the film had completely broken his ironic shell and hit him on some pure level and I was right there with him, just unquestioningly loving the film. Watching the film on your own, the flaws are more magnified, but in the context of a group that was there to love the film, it was just a sublime experience, everyone bought into the film and loved it.

Now, on the other end of the spectrum was when I went to see Lord of the Rings: Return of the King. All throughout the movie this guy a couple of seats over was making sarcastic comments about the film, and towards the end, I had to tell him to shut up because it was just taking me out of the world of the film, and the guy questioned me, and I did not back down, and him and his girlfriend left. But still, to some degree it was difficult to get back into the film. Getting truly lost in a great film is a delicate process, and even one dumb comment can completely ruin a moment. I know whenever I watch Mulholland Drive, people always try to translate the Spanish lyrics in the Club Silencio sequence, completely missing the fact that the reason Lynch put the lyrics in Spanish was so that you would just feel the song rather than try to apply it to the narrative. It's probably the most powerful moment in the film, a superb confluence of audio and visual, but it's ruined if someone is talking. If you truly get lost in that scene, it's emotionally overwhelming, and I don't care what she's singing about.

I think we all hate the clueless filmgoer who is always asking questions about the plot, but there is a type of filmgoer I hate even more, and it's one I encounter a lot here at Wesleyan: the ironic filmgoer, who, no matter what film he/she goes to, he thinks of himself as above the material, looking down to occasionally chuckle at something that someone has put years of life and care into. Watching a film is like going into a cave, when you first enter, you can see everything pretty clearly, but as you go further into the cave, you don't see like you do in the outside world, you just see things in the light of the cave. This is what you do when you see a film, you move out of your world, and into the world of the film, where your vision and understanding of things is different. And thus, things that would seem ridiculous if you watched them out of context can be incredibly profound.

I think the best example of this is the singing sequence in Magnolia. Two hours into this film, Paul Thomas Anderson has all the characters start singing along to Aimee Mann's 'Wise Up,' which we first hear on the stereo of Claudia, but gradually moves out to all nine main characters. It's a moment that would be absoultely preposterous if you just watched it on its own, but in context, it's the most powerful moment in the film, and just kills me every time, because I love getting lost in the world of the film.

But, what about the 'ironic viewer'? This is someone who refuses to surrender himself to the power of the film, and instead keeps a critical distance, laughing at any sign of sincere emotion. So, this incredibly emotional scene would be treated with some laughs, and it would kill the moment. On his commentary for Amelie, Jean Pierre Jeunet talks about the scene at the end of the film where Amelie and Nino stare at each other in silence, and he says if someone laughed at this point, it would absoultely kill the film. This is what the ironic viewer does, laugh at sincere displays of emotion, or anything that could possibly be construed as funny.

Maybe these people enjoy the films, but I don't think they can enjoy it in the same way that someone who surrenders to the film does. See, I feel like these people are best suited to watching high brow comedies, where everything can be laughed at, even scenes with sincere emotional content.

See, I love movies that go over the top emotionally, and even if I don't love the film, I'm always going to give it the respect of not laughing at it. Now, you may say, how could this same person enjoy Mystery Science Theater 3000? The difference is there you're looking to laugh at the film, when you go to the theater, and pay $10 to see the film, you want to enjoy it, not poke fun at it. Yes, some films are awful, but I try not to go to those, and even if I do, I try to focus on the positive.

I guess I differ from most people in the sense that the films I hate most are stupid comedies. I'd take any sort of sincere attempt to make a good film over something that is meant to just poke fun at stuff. I can love comedies, but usually they have some sort of dramatic character base for their riffing. Ghost World is a hilarious film, and is largely about viewing life ironically, but it examines this sort of worldview and engages the difficulties with it.

What really bothers me about the ironic viewer is that they make it difficult to really enjoy the film because for one, they take you out of the film with annoying laughter, and second, by taking you out of the film, make it impossible to reengage on an emotional level with the characters, and thus, you see things the way they do, distanced and looking for irony rather than sincerity. When watching films this is not the way to do things. Every film I watch I hope to love, and I'm going to try to give it the respect of not laughing at it.

What brought on this rant? It was watching Todd Solondz' Happiness, a film that refuses to break the critical distance between filmmaker and character, and instead views the characters as almost a freakshow, so that at any moment, you could be either engaging with the characters or laughing at them, and in a theater environment, I'd imagine there'd be a lot of laughter. Another film that does this, a film that is apalling and awful, and makes me question society's values yet again, is Napoleon Dynamite, a film that is basically there to let you laugh at these people for an hour and a half. Why would you want to do this, freakshows went out of style in the 1900s, and there's no reason to adapt this awful exploitation to film. I don't want a film I can laugh at and not care about, I want something that will stick with me long after, and take me on an emotional journey.

You know a film is successful when you accept more and more ridiculous things within it, such as in Magnolia, when the frogs appear. By this time, you're so far into the film, you just accept it as something that fits, and it's a sublime, powerful moment, one that you could either laugh at or be in awe of, and I choose to be in awe of it.

Batman Returns

I watched Batman Returns yesterday, because I'm going to write a paper on it for my class on action cinema. This is the film that is #8 on my Top 100 Films list, and even I sometimes wonder what the hell it's doing there, but then I watch the film and I'm once again dazzled by just how amazing it is. I've got a 15 page paper to do on the film, so I'll be covering it pretty in depth, but there's a surplus of material there, this is a film I feel like I could write a whole book on, just because it's so deep, and yet so entertaining on the surface at the same time. Watching it, I'm at once entertained on a really superficial level, looking at stuff blowing up, but there's also a lot of really strong character stuff in the film.



What makes this film stand out as one of the absolute greatest films of all time? One big thing is that I'm a huge fan of director Tim Burton, his visual style, his themes and his collaboration with composer Danny Elfman. And this film is the most Tim Burton of all his films, falling as the dark middle act of a thematic trilogy consisting of Edward Scissorhands, this film and The Nightmare Before Christmas. All deal with characters feeling alienated from a deeply conformist society, struggling to deal with their difference.



I love Edward Scissorhands, and this film serves as essentially a darker version of that story. Scissorhands is much simpler, this film has a lot of complexity with the relationship between Bruce and Selina. Selina Kyle/Catwoman is one of Burton's best characters, and just owns every moment she is on screen. The scene where she and Bruce Wayne are dancing and realize each other's secret identity is amazing, one of Burton's best scenes.

Visually, this film is just so over the top, you could watch it without dialogue, and just the visuals and music would be enough to make a great piece of cinema. The opening sequence is so over the top icy beautiful, and the whole finale with the penguins and the zoo blowing up is just ridiculous. Danny Elfman's score here is his best, and one of the absolute best in all of cinema. It's operatic and omnipresent, informing events. This is a film where the score is an integrated part of the storytelling rather than just being background, and that's where music belongs in film. This feels like a complete cinematic immersion, something that is achieved by very few other films. Just watching the final scenes, the music alone would make it awesome.



The visuals and music are so great, they almost overpower the really witty script. There are some awful lines ("Girl talk" and "eat floor" come to mind), but on the whole the dialogue is entertaining, and full of bizarre double entendres and outlandish jokes. The film does a great job of exploring issues of duality, basically destroying conventional ideas of good and bad, replacing them with a morally ambiguous film in which the only character who is unquestionably a villain is the normal guy.

This is a film I wish people would rediscover, looking at it not as a Batman film, the title character doesn't have the most screentime, or serve as the primary narrative catalyst, but rather look at it in the context of Burton's other films, and as an unconventional character study. Yes, much of the plot makes no sense and is left unresolved, but who really cares what happens with the power plant. This is a film that is all about characters and visual spectacle, and in that sense it's really an art film.

And I feel like this film makes the upcoming Batman Begins seem so irrelevant. There's no way Nolan can top this film, and in making a Spider-Man style blockbuster out of Batman, he'll just embrace the commodification of Hollywood that is preventing really personal films from being made. Batman Returns is so unique because it's one of the most personal blockbusters I've ever seen. You can sense Burton's involvement in every level of this project, and maybe that's why the film wasn't successful. To make a film that some people will really love, you're going to alienate others. But, I'd rather have a film that a few people absoultely love than one that everyone likes.

What's wrong with Lost?

At the beginning of the TV year, I watched one new show, and that was Lost. It had a great premise, really strong critical buzz and was from JJ Abrams, creator of Alias, so I figured this would be quite the series, and the pilot certainly sold me on that. Really interesting characters, tons of interesting conflict, and the promise of more good stuff in the future. And, I really liked the show, it had its ups and downs, but I enjoyed each episode, but lately, I get the feeling more and more that what once seemed like it could be the next Buffy level series is just not going to make it, and here's why.

At this point, Lost is basically handicapped by its structure. For some inane reason, the producers decided to stick with having character flashbacks to the mainland long after these have outlived their usefulness. At the beginning, it was cool to see where each character came from, and they did a good job of setting up what this person brought to the island. And for character, the first flashback episode was interesting enough. However, at this point, the flashbacks are just a drain on screentime and a distraction from what's actually interesting on the show. In the most recent episode, we saw Jack preparing to get married, and having some issues with confidence. On the island, he is also having issues of confidence, but just being a parallel story does not mean that this flashback is worth including. In the end, it had no impact on the events of the episode, and didn't tell us anything important about Jack that we didn't already know.

I wouldn't have such a big problem with the flashbacks except for the fact that with such a big ensemble cast, it means that the screentime taken up by the pointless flashbacks precludes us from checking in with most of the characters on the island. In most episodes, about ten of the fourteen main characters actually appear, and only five or so have any sort of significant role. It's not that the cast is too big, it's that one third of the running time is taken up with things that have no bearing on the narrative. The occasional flashback episode can be great, as in the episode of Firefly where we see how Mal met his crew. This fills in backstory we didn't know before, while still telling a story that moves things along.

However, the pointlessness of these flashbacks comes to the fore because even as we learn more and more pointless minutiae about these characters' past, they still show no signs of changing in the present. The characters were all archetypal in some sense, just like in Buffy, but the problem here is the characters haven't moved beyond their one sentence description. No one has any depth or does anything unexpected, and all the chaacter dynamics are the exact same as from the first episode. There've been a ton of episodes where Kate/Sawyer/Jack have tension between them as they try to get something they want from Sawyer, but what happens in the past never seems to affect how they behave in the present. They go through the same dance over and over again, eventually Sawyer shows he's not all bad and helps them out, which Jack grudgingly accepts.

The only characters whose status quo has really changed is Jin and Sun. Now that they're split up, you'd think there'd be plenty of space for exploring how the characters are dealing with it, but they basically function exactly the same way, just apart now. I'd love to see Sun and someone get into a relationship, to see how that affects Jin.

That's one of the biggest problems with the show, no one gets into relationships that could cause tension. They get Sayid and Sharon together, but then kill off the primary obstacle to them being together, her brother Boone. I'd have loved to see that triangle play out, but instead the element of tension is removed. It's writing 101 that you should give your characters obstacles to overcome, and that's something that just isn't done on the show. Everyone has settled in on the island, with no evidence of psychological wear. Where's some Lord of the Flies style de-civilizing?

I think part of the problem is that between the flashbacks and arbitrary problems that arise every week, there's no room for character development. There doesn't need to be a crisis every week, just letting the characters stew, and seeing what tensions arise would make for a much more interesting show. There's so many issues that would arise being stranded on an island, and the only discussion about it is very brief and not in depth. I'd play up more romantic relationships, because that would lead to more character tension. When you're on an island, there's nowhere to hide from each other if something goes bad.

Ultimately, the show needs to upset the status quo more. The worst thing a show can do is settle into a routine, and that's what has happened at this point. There's no progress forward for the charcters, it's almost like a sitcom in that respect. A bunch of things can happen, but people don't change and on a long term series, that's the worst thing that can be.