Trust In Darkness

There's Always Tomorrow (1956)

Thu, 16 May 2013 23:28:48 -0700

Starring: Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck, Joan Bennett

Screenplay: Bernard C. Schoenfeld, Based on the Novel by Ursula Parrott

Cinematography: Russell Metty

Music: Heinz Roemheld, Herman Stein

Director: Douglas Sirk

I’m becoming a fan of Sirk’s work, but as with other great stylists, the more over-the-top it is, the better. And the black-and-white There’s Always Tomorrow doesn’t attempt the scale of Technicolor classics like All That Heaven Allows or Written on the Wind.

MacMurray plays Clifford Groves, president of a toy company and a neglected husband and father at home. Wife Marion (Bennett) is nice but puts their three children ahead of him every time, frustrating his every attempt to get some alone time with her, and the kids take him for granted, too. Coincidentally, he runs into a former coworker, Norma (Stanwyck), and they spend a chaste evening in each other’s company. When Marion backs out of a trip to Palm Valley Cliff plans, he goes anyway, to meet a client and clear his head, and he runs into Norma again. His son happens to be there with his girlfriend as well, and finally takes an interest in Dad, but only because he suspects he’s having an affair. He’s wrong, but Cliff is developing feelings for Norma, and Norma, who had originally quit Cliff’s company because she had a crush on him, finds herself likewise tempted. But this isn’t the MacMurray/Stanwyck of Double Indemnity, and Norma turns Cliff down, knowing he’ll regret breaking up his family over her.

With wholesome MacMurray and Bennett, an almost-out-of-the-house eldest son, teen daughter and pug-nosed younger daughter, the film calls to mind a darker Father Knows Best. Stanwyck is strong and sensible but lacking any sex appeal; she doesn’t even flirt with Cliff. It’s basically all in his head. He’s just desperate for some affection, and in an astonishing rant to Cliff’s accusing kids, she turns the tables on them, blaming their neglect for Cliff’s wandering eye. MacMurray is also very good in his halting, earnest way, but also pathetic, as characters often are in Sirk’s films, clean-cut, well-dressed and seemingly together but utter slaves to their emotions. Depicting that loss of control, that lovestruck, ruinous abandon, is Sirk’s strength, and it takes both parties to work. Here, Norma never gives in. They have some laughs, one of them gets carried away, and the other puts on the brakes. If Marion had gotten a bigger part, had been shown waking up and fighting for her man, and if we had gotten to see how strong their bond was before it was tested like this, the film would have been stronger. As it is, it’s a mild diversion with a message of, “we should give a little more time to dear old Dad” that isn’t a great fit for a romantic melodrama.

oldloves: Bill Murray on Gilda Radner: “Gilda got married and...

Thu, 16 May 2013 00:18:09 -0700

oldloves:

Bill Murray on Gilda Radner:

“Gilda got married and went away. None of us saw her anymore. There was one good thing: Laraine had a party one night, a great party at her house. And I ended up being the disk jockey. She just had forty-fives, and not that many, so you really had to work the music end of it. There was a collection of like the funniest people in the world at this party. Somehow Sam Kinison sticks in my brain. The whole Monty Python group was there, most of us from the show, a lot of other funny people, and Gilda. Gilda showed up and she’d already had cancer and gone into remission and then had it again, I guess. Anyway she was slim. We hadn’t seen her in a long time. And she started doing, “I’ve got to go,” and she was just going to leave, and I was like, “Going to leave?” It felt like she was going to really leave forever.

So we started carrying her around, in a way that we could only do with her. We carried her up and down the stairs, around the house, repeatedly, for a long time, until I was exhausted. Then Danny did it for a while. Then I did it again. We just kept carrying her; we did it in teams. We kept carrying her around, but like upside down, every which way—over your shoulder and under your arm, carrying her like luggage. And that went on for more than an hour—maybe an hour and a half—just carrying her around and saying, “She’s leaving! This could be it! Now come on, this could be the last time we see her. Gilda’s leaving, and remember that she was very sick—hello?”

We worked all aspects of it, but it started with just, “She’s leaving, I don’t know if you’ve said good-bye to her.” And we said good-bye to the same people ten, twenty times, you know.

And because these people were really funny, every person we’d drag her up to would just do like five minutes on her, with Gilda upside down in this sort of tortured position, which she absolutely loved. She was laughing so hard we could have lost her right then and there.

It was just one of the best parties I’ve ever been to in my life. I’ll always remember it. It was the last time I saw her.”

- from Live from New York: an Uncensored History of Saturday Night Live

the-absolute-best-posts: reginasworld: Bohyun Yoon’s...

Sat, 11 May 2013 22:49:57 -0700

the-absolute-best-posts:

reginasworld:

Bohyun Yoon’s installation work “Unity” (2009), “Structure of Shadow” (2007), and “Shadow” (2004) casts light on miniature wax body parts which physically dangle aimlessly; however, when illuminated by a light source, these fragmentations create shadows or illusions which illustrate figurative wholeness.

This post has been featured on a 1000notes.com blog.

Twist Street: constellation-funk: The elites will become cogs in the machine. You...

Thu, 09 May 2013 15:50:34 -0700

Twist Street: constellation-funk: The elites will become cogs in the machine. You...:

constellation-funk:

The elites will become cogs in the machine. You will become a bright, silver, indestructible wrench that breaks it. You will become the creator of your own machine, and they will envy you your purity. And the money they inherited, they will give to you. And unlike…

Fantastic stuff by Abhay. Life is part meritocracy, part connections and part luck. I’m not a success by many people’s standards, but I can tell you it’s important to show up, be reliable, and try not to be a total asshole. And try to resist judging people. When you do, you’re really just closing yourself off from maybe finding out something interesting about them.

That's Entertainment (1974)

Wed, 08 May 2013 01:09:00 -0700

Starring: Frank Sinatra, Fred Astaire, Bing Crosby, Gene Kelly, Liza Minnelli, Donald O’Connor, Debbie Reynolds, James Stewart, Peter Lawford, Mickey Rooney

Screenplay: Jack Haley, Jr.

Cinematography: Russell Metty

Music: Henry Mancini

Director: Jack Haley, Jr.

Until this film came along, there was little nostalgia for the Golden Age of Hollywood films. Movies came and went within days or weeks, replaced by others, and aside from some rare rereleases like Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, the only way to see old movies was on your local TV station’s Late Show or afternoon movie. That’s probably where I saw this one, with my mom, but hadn’t thought about it again until today. It was a big hit in 1974, rekindling an interest in the old musicals, and showing a new generation the talents of forgotten stars like Eleanor Powell, Esther Williams and Jeanette MacDonald.

The brainchild of Jack Haley, Jr. son of the actor who played The Tin Man in MGM’s The Wizard of Oz, That’s Entertainment has the stars listed above filmed in and around MGM Studios, introducing and narrating information about various clips from MGM’s great musicals from the late ’20s into the late ’50s. Some of the sets look dilapidated in the modern shots, particularly the set from The Band Wagon, which Fred Astaire remarks upon. But there is little grumbling about MGM’s changing fortunes or the decline of the musical, nor is there much information on the filmmaking or how some of the amazing sequences were accomplished. It’s a relatively straightforward collection of clips, somewhat chronological but also arranged by theme or performer. “Singin’ in the Rain” dates back to the ’20s, so we get a bit of that, a bit of a ’30s Jimmy Durante rendition, and, much later, the definitive Gene Kelly version from the film of the same name, a simple number (at least for a performer of Kelly’s gifts) that’s nonetheless one of the great musical numbers of movie history, pure and joyous and, of course, helped immeasurably by the unique bits of business with umbrella and rainwater.

I responded to Kelly’s work most of all, and he closes out the film with a stunningly filmed dance with Leslie Caron from An American In Paris, but close on his heels (no pun intended) is the great Astaire. Oddly, there’s not a lot of him with Ginger Rogers, but his dances with Eleanor Powell and Kelly are great, too. I even warmed to some of the clips of the many films Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney made together, though I’m not in a hurry to see a complete film of theirs. As Peter Lawford notes, MGM forced some of its stars to appear in musicals, even if they had little ability to sing or dance, so we get a terrible tap dance by Joan Crawford and the modest singing of Jimmy Stewart. There’s plenty of corn, too, such as one outdoor Western number (I didn’t notice it being named) with the cowboys wearing brightly colored shirts and scarves—I noticed a hot pink one, which would have raised questions on the Ponderosa—but you kind of just have to embrace the silliness. It’s easy to do in small doses, when you’re just getting the best songs and/or dances. About the only number I found truly unpleasant was an otherwise brilliantly choreographed and filmed Busby Berkeley production that had many dancers in blackface. I don’t think a lot is served by sweeping ugly history under the rug, but I could have done with a different Berkeley number here. There’s also a lot of good young Sinatra hoofing and singing, and pretty much any classic MGM number one might remember, such as Kelly dancing with Jerry the Mouse, the dancing-on-the-ceiling Gene Kelly number, an amazingly gifted comedic dance by Donald O’Connor, or Astaire surrounded by the shoes dancing on their own.

Musicals aren’t a genre I seek out. I don’t think I’ve ever gone to the movies to see one, and I’ve only seen a few stage musicals. I don’t think I’ve ever owned a dvd of one, except maybe Grease. But with 30 years of musicals condensed into a little over two hours of well-chosen clips, That’s Entertainment is an unbeatable celebration of the genre. If you watch this film and don’t end up smiling at large portions of it, and being astounded by the talent on display, there is something missing inside you.

twiststreet: Jennifer Lawrence and Sarah Jessica Parker at the...

Wed, 08 May 2013 00:05:10 -0700

twiststreet:

Jennifer Lawrence and Sarah Jessica Parker at the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Costume Institute Gala benefit in honor of the museum’s latest exhibit, “Punk: Chaos to Couture”

Congratulations: Punk Rock! Sarah Jessica Parker, #1 punker, toasts you, while wearing her finest crown:

Punk rockers wanted anarchy. They wound up with a $565 T-shirt. That’s the story told in a big new exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York called “Punk: Chaos to couture.”

The exhibit, which opened to a crowded preview Monday, traces the unlikely merger of a movement known for primal music, drug-abuse and anti-establishment yells, with the glittering world of high fashion.

The collection in the elegant halls of the Met, just down from a gallery of ancient Greek sculptures, presents a veritable time capsule of the deliberately destructive, often self-destructive musical genre.

Shaky video clips of Sid Vicious and other rockers play on giant screens. The air fills with snippets of music and pearls of wisdom from punk’s gurus. There’s even a life-size replica of the bathroom at the famed Manhattan nightclub CBGB, circa 1975. The room comes complete with the Ramones on the loudspeakers, “DEAD BOYS RULE” graffiti, and cigarette butts on the floor — something you’ll never see in New York’s smoke-free clubs today.

“Hey, I live in New York— I’m a New York tough guy. As long as you don’t sell me a large quantity of soda— that’s against the law, buddy, buddy boy. I’m a big tough New Yorker— we put cigarettes on the floors of museum exhibits to punk rock to make the exhibits more authentic. Ay-oh, oh-ay, said Tony Danza. I’m gonna go to LA and complain.” That’s my new character I’m workshopping. His name is Minakata Kazuo and he lives in Kyoto. … Character needs a lot of work.

Knocking young and youngish actresses for not knowing how to dress punk (or knowing but not wanting to be the only one in the ripped t-shirt and safety pins while everyone else is in couture) is kinda shooting fish in a barrel. A gala, at the Met, is already so divorced from Punk that it’s virtually meaningless. Jennifer Lawrence might not be able to list 10 dead Presidents, much less The Dead Boys. This is just another party with a different playlist. The one person who I’m pretty sure knows some Punk history is Kristen Stewart, and I’d argue her not looking like shit at an event for once is about as punk as the night got.

"This is a book to shake up the world, to make us put down our iPhones and head back to the..."

Tue, 07 May 2013 23:37:09 -0700

“This is a book to shake up the world, to make us put down our iPhones and head back to the bookstore.”

- Ann Patchett has discovered Nicholas Carr’s Pulitzer Prize finalist The Shallows: What the Internet is Doing to Our Brains and wrote about it on her Parnassus Books blog. (via wwnorton)

I wonder if I can get a blurb from her for my smoke signal piece about the dangers of electricity?

highway62: kaijusaurus: Thank you, Ray. That’s a big chunk of...

Tue, 07 May 2013 23:07:31 -0700

highway62:

kaijusaurus:

Thank you, Ray.

That’s a big chunk of childhood right there, and it would have looked very different without him.

I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Harryhausen once at SDCC, almost ten years ago now. He still had that sparkle in his eye. He was still dreaming up new stuff, you could see it.

RIP, Ray Harryhausen, one of the men who made movies magical for a kid.

Marked Woman, 1937. I always liked Bette Davis as an actress...

Tue, 07 May 2013 23:02:02 -0700

Marked Woman, 1937.

I always liked Bette Davis as an actress but never remembered her being this hot.

Frankenstein Created Woman (1967)

Mon, 06 May 2013 23:00:16 -0700

Starring: Peter Cushing, Susan Denberg, Thorley Walters, Robert Morris

Screenplay: John Elder (Anthony Hinds)

Cinematography: Arthur Grant

Music: James Bernard

Director: Terence Fisher

In the fourth Hammer Frankenstein film, we get a twist on the formula. Not only is Dr. Frankenstein (Cushing) not a huge player, but there’s no “monster”, per se. We get to know Hans (Morris), a hot-tempered young man who is shunned in the village due to his criminal father being executed by guillotine when Hans was a boy. Hans is sweet on the disfigured, twisted barmaid, Christina (Denberg), whose father, despite her limited options, forbids her to see him. We also learn that Frankenstein died and has been brought back to life per his careful instructions, by his faithful assistant, Dr. Hertz (Walters).

One night, three rich young punks give Christina a hard time at her father’s pub, and Hans defends her, injuring all three and scarring the leader, Anton. While Christina and Hans spend their first night together in bed, Anton and his buddies sneak back into the pub for free booze, but, surprised by the owner, they end up beating him to death. Hans is blamed and, shades of “The Long, Black Veil,” he refuses to sully Christina’s honor by using their night together as an alibi, so he is executed. A heartbroken Christina immediately drowns herself.

But not to worry, as Frankenstein brings Christina back to life, only with a perfect face and blonde hair now. While Hertz loves her like a daughter, Frankenstein is clinical, almost cruel, subjecting her to a number of tests and keeping her locked up in the house as both guinea pig and maid. He knows the villagers already suspect him of being a sorcerer and he wants as little attention as possible. But Christina finds ways to sneak out and ends up exacting bloody revenge on the three young murderers, not out of revenge for her father, but because during these times, Hans’ spirit possesses her body. Frankenstein, being a genius, eventually figures this out, but he’s too late to either stop the third murder or Christina’s second suicide.

Cushing is always enjoyable to watch, especially here, as his Frankenstein is more arrogant and openly contemptuous of the common folk as usual: “You think you’re very clever, don’t you?” “Yes.” Denberg, a Playboy Playmate, provides not only eye candy but is pretty good in what amounts to dual roles, while the others are average. The film is disappointing if one expects a shambling, scarred monster, but it makes up for it with the metaphysical questions it raises about what happens to a soul after death. As usual, Fisher gets a lot out of a little. While only barely qualifying as a Frankenstein film, it’s still a strong entry in the series.

The Fugitive Kind (1959)

Mon, 06 May 2013 00:57:00 -0700

Starring: Marlon Brando, Anna Magnani, Joanne Woodward, Victor Jory, Maureen Stapleton, R.G. Armstrong

Screenplay: Meade Roberts, Tennessee Williams, based on the Play, Orpheus Descending, by Tennessee Williams

Cinematography: Boris Kaufman

Music: Kenyon Hopkins

Director: Sidney Lumet

Tennessee Williams at his most overwrought and unfocused, the film finds Brando as guitar-playing drifter Val Xavier, who escapes the heat of New Orleans police for a small town, where he catches the interest of three different women. He resists housewife Vee Talbott (Stapleton) and hellraiser Carol Cutrere (Woodward), but he is taken with the kindness and sadness of Lady Torrance (Magnani), who gives him a job in the shop she runs with her cruel husband Jabe (Jory), who’s sweating and dying away upstairs.

Stapleton’s character is forgettable and just adds to the draggy feeling of the film, and it’s necessary, as her husband the Sheriff would antagonize a drifter like Val on principle. Williams gives Val a guitar and a song to sing, as well as would-be meaningful speeches about life and loneliness. Brando’s fine, but it feels like a performance he’s given before, and a comfortable Brando is less interesting than one who’s grasping for something new. Woodward is sexier than she usually portrays, but is so over-the-top her energy overpowers her scenes with Brando. He seems content to let her scream and gesture, but there is never a sense that he’s interested in her, which makes their scenes pointless and unpleasant.

Magnani isn’t an actress I knew before here, and it’s blunt but fair to say she gets by on talent, as her features are sharp and somewhat haggard. It’s odd that she and Brando get together, not just the difference in their ages and beauty but because while we understand her loneliness, we don’t really understand his. She’s a woman trapped in a marriage to a monster, but he’s like some sort of angel, someone too good and pure for this world. It just doesn’t really come off, and Lumet seems befuddled by the Southern Gothic setting and tone. It doesn’t play to his strengths at all, so what was a problematic story in the first place is made even more false.

Iron Man 3 (2013)

Sun, 05 May 2013 19:18:00 -0700

Starring: Robert Downey, Jr., Gwyneth Paltrow, Don Cheadle, Guy Pearce, Rebecca Hall, Jon Favreau, Stephanie Szostak, James Badge Dale, Ben Kingsley

Screenplay: Drew Pearce, Shane Black

Cinematography: John Toll

Music: Brian Tyler

Director: Shane Black

We begin with Tony Stark narrating a 1999 flashback, as a drunken Tony seduces scientist Maya Hansen (Hall) and blows off nerdy scientist Aldrich Killian (Pearce), both of whom will figure heavily into the story. We then learn Tony is having crippling, though brief, anxiety attacks, stemming from the alien invasion and his near-death experience in The Avengers. Tony has been avoiding dealing with the problem by throwing himself into work, hurting his relationship with Pepper Potts (Paltrow). Meanwhile, a terrorist named The Mandarin (Kingsley) is wreaking havoc around he globe, with James Rhodes (Cheadle) revamping his armor and name from War Machine to Iron Patriot, the Administration’s symbol of global strength and justice, intended to find Mandarin.

Things come to a head when Tony’s friend Happy (Favreau), is left comatose after an attack at Hollywood’s Chinese Theatre by Savin (Dale), a man who can generate great heat and strength, who works for the newly cool Killian. Just as Maya returns to Tony’s life to warn him and Pepper, their house is attacked and destroyed. Tony barely survives and his malfunctioning operating system, Jarvis, sends him in his armor to a small town in Tennessee, site of a previous heat attack. There, with the help of a budding young science kid, Tony regroups and starts to figure things out.

Cowriters Black and Pearce craft a mostly compelling story out of bits of Warren Ellis’ Extremis storyline from Iron Man comics (with bits of David Michelinie’s and John Byrne’s Armor Wars and Armor Wars II), another damsel-in-distress subplot for Pepper, a villainous McGuffin, a cute kid and lack of resources reminding Tony of what he’s really all about, and lots of action setpieces.

Some have described IM3 as a return to what made the first film work, but it’s a little different. Whereas Tony’s crude armor provides the origin story for Iron Man in the first film, here Tony spends a lot of the movie out of armor or with just a few pieces of the armor, as he has to fight the Extremis-powered foes with quick-thinking. It’s a blend of espionage thriller and superhero film, and the results are strong. It helps that Black and Pearce bring a good deal of humor to the film, so that the tousled-head kid helping Tony section of the film is a lot of fun and not corny at all. Similarly, while Pepper does end up in danger, she gets a turn earlier in the armor that lets her show her strength and bravery.

Downey and Paltrow are always good together, and Cheadle is actually more convincing here as a soldier than in IM2, as he gets to be an action hero outside the armor. Pearce is okay as Killian, sort of similar to Sam Rockwell as a guy who wants to be as smooth as Stark but just can’t cut it. Dale and Hall are a bit overqualified for their pretty thin roles, but I’m sure they appreciate the exposure and paychecks. Miguel Ferrer as the Vice-President has such a small part/subplot that he probably could have been cut entirely with no real loss. Kingsley is pretty great, but the truth behind the Mandarin isn’t something I’d want to spoil, though I’ll say it presents some challenges for Black involving the changing tone of the film that I’m not sure he completely resolved. And I was unclear on just why Maya came to Tony’s house. If she was truly trying to warn him, then that doesn’t jibe with her withholding her connection to Killian until later. And if she was there to get close to Pepper so she could be kidnapped, well, there has to be a better way than showing up at a house that’s about to be destroyed by missiles. Certainly if Pepper survives and Tony doesn’t, there won’t be much trouble finding her and picking her up. If Tony survives, then Maya can’t do much, anyway. It just doesn’t work.

Maybe the oddest thing was that, after more than two hours of Black showing that he wasn’t just an ’80s/’90s relic but that a lot of those techniques could still be effective today, he ends with an extremely ’80s TV credit sequence that doesn’t fit at all with the rest of the film. Yes, there is a little scene after the credits, that, like The Avengers, is more of a joke than a tease for the next film.

the-absolute-best-posts: tigursblood: my heart just broke in 9...

Sun, 28 Apr 2013 21:45:12 -0700

the-absolute-best-posts:

tigursblood:

my heart just broke in 9 seconds..

This post has been featured on a 1000notes.com blog.

Bite The Bullet (1975)

Sun, 28 Apr 2013 20:07:47 -0700

Starring: Gene Hackman, James Coburn, Candice Bergen, Ben Johnson, Jan-Michael Vincent, Mario Arteaga, Sally Kirkland, Dabney Coleman

Screenplay: Richard Brooks

Cinematography: Harry Stradling, Jr.

Music: Alex North

Director: Richard Brooks

Hackman and Coburn play Sam Clayton and Luke Mitchell, former Rough Riders making their way in 1906 to a 700 mile horse race. Sam (Hackman) is an animal lover and was only delivering a thoroughbred to the race, but gets involved for reasons not very clear, while Luke has bet everything on a win, and is sore that with his friend Sam in the race, his odds just got a little longer. Sam is an all-around nice guy, which we see when he fashions a cap for competing racer Mexican’s (Arteaga) aching tooth, as well as his defense of Miss Jones (Bergen), a lady of ill repute whose husband is currently imprisoned. Also in the race are Sir Harry Norfolk, an Englishman just along for the sport of it, Mister (Johnson), an aging man with back problems who has maybe one last shot at glory, and Kid (Vincent), a callow youth due for some lessons in manhood from Sam. Dabney Coleman’s Western Press is sponsoring and covering the race, and he plays a man of weak character as you might expect from a Dabney Coleman performance.

Brooks delivers a fairly old-fashioned but compelling Western for 1975, with archetypal characters, an interesting twist involving why Miss Jones is involved in the race, and themes of friendship and compassion vs. racism and greed. There are some thrilling shots and sequences, though in some instances they’re disturbing due to the fact we know some horses were clearly endangered (tripped, fallen off a cliff into water). Several years after Ennio Morricone’s spaghetti Western scores, Alex North’s work sounds dated, especially as he uses variations on “Dixie” for no particular reason. It’s not that the music is bad, but Brooks’ filming looks current for the time, having taken in Peckinpah and Arthur Penn and Leone, so the music is somewhat out of step.

Miss Jones is quite dignified even if it’s hinted she’s had to whore herself out to stay afloat, but she’s not put through too much degradation, and our heroes treat her well. Sam is a soft-spoken man but treats everyone without prior judgment, and goes out of his way to be kind, setting a model for everyone else. When Kid runs his horse to death in the desert, Sam runs him down, eventually breaking him of his callous ways. The only area where Brooks doesn’t succeed is in the relationship between Sam and Luke. We almost sense that Coburn wanted his character to be a good guy, too, so there isn’t really much conflict between the two except that Luke is willing to pay Sam to come in second, since he’s bet so much on himself he can afford to pay Sam as if he’d won. We kind of know Sam’s not the type to take a dive, partly because we don’t see enough between them to convince us their friendship is that strong. Otherwise, quite a fine film, with a terrifically shot ending.

npr: funnyordie: Teamwork A Friday funny. — tanya b.

Fri, 26 Apr 2013 13:05:54 -0700

npr:

funnyordie:

Teamwork

A Friday funny. — tanya b.

the-absolute-best-posts: This post has been featured on a...

Tue, 23 Apr 2013 22:41:34 -0700

the-absolute-best-posts:

This post has been featured on a 1000notes.com blog.

Early Spring (1956)

Tue, 23 Apr 2013 22:36:50 -0700

Starring: Chikage Awajima, Ryo Ikebe, Keiko Kishi

Screenplay: Kogo Noda, Yasujiro Ozu

Cinematography: Yuharu Atsuta

Music: Kojun Saito

Director: Yasujiro Ozu

Ozu is a filmmaker I’m just getting into and I would cautiously say I know enough to know I can’t write with authority on all his strategies, how he compares with other Japanese directors of the same era, or recurrent themes. I sense that I can see Early Spring in another year or so and find more to write about, especially with more Ozu films under my belt, but here are my impressions.

The story is simple. Shoji Sugiyama (Ikebe) is a young but weary, married company man in Tokyo, countering his physical and spiritual exhaustion by gambling and drinking with his friends, and then with an affair with “Goldfish” (Kishi), so called because of her large eyes. We don’t see much of it, but it seems fairly passionless for Shoji, not exactly what he was seeking. This makes him detach further from wife Masako (Awajima), who grows suspicious, and is particularly hurt when he forgets to honor their dead son’s birthday. When Goldfish asks to speak with him one evening, having been confronted about the affair from friends, Masako knows something is up. She accuses him and then moves out. Meanwhile, he has been offered a transfer to the small village of Mitsuishi. Their marriage is left in flux when he moves out, but she soon decides to forgive him, showing up for what they both decide will be a fresh start.

Ozu has a distinctive style of filmmaking, using mostly low-angled, static cameras, with very closed-in compositions, and characters often facing the camera rather than in profile. He also finds ways to surprise the viewer, withholding information—some important—which could be frustrating in the hands of a lesser filmmaker. Shoji becomes an enigma, a man well-liked by friends but who never commands attention. He seems to be going through the motions in all aspects of his life, even the affair, which we gather is pretty common in Tokyo society among younger men until their wives get them in line.

Despite a role that has her cross and put-upon most of the time, Awajima is really the heart of the film. We see in her a strong mind and will, a woman who doesn’t want to just follow tradition when it comes to her life and her marriage. She doesn’t just want a guy who brings home a paycheck, a guy who might go out with the boys unannounced, making her keep dinner warm. She wants a partner, and an honest, reliable one.

For her part, Goldfish is just naive, falling for a married man and thinking there might be a future there, and she receives a strong confrontation from male friends that might seem a little shocking today, as we tend to let people make their mistakes. ’50s Tokyo society looks down on adultery, and there is even the implication that Shoji’s boss suggested the transfer as a way to get Shoji out of the situation and not bring scandal to the company (where Goldfish also works).

While Shoji’s affair is clearly depicted as a mistake, it’s not all his fault. While Masako takes some share of the blame at their reconciliation at the end, the overall impression is that Shoji was hollowed out and directionless after the death of his child. The company, full of men similar to Shoji, has further robbed him of his identity and his vitality. He’s not a father anymore. He’s unsure how to be a husband again. He’s a worker and a guy who can be called upon to have a drink with. And, at his weakest, soul-hungry moment, he’s an adulterer. Aside from the work, always the work, he’s not really capable of filling any of these roles.

Ozu emphasizes the stifling nature of the Tokyo middle class with his rigid compositions, where almost every shot is made up of rectangles (bookshelves, doorways, cabinets). Everything is upright and narrow, and the people are expected to behave that way or the system will correct or expel them. It seems somewhat unfair that Masako has to endure three years in Mitsuishi, where there’s nothing to do, by Shoji’s admission, but at least they have each other.

The Phantom Tollbooth (1970)

Tue, 23 Apr 2013 21:18:37 -0700

Starring: Butch Patrick, Mel Blanc, Daws Butler, Candy Candido, Hans Conried, June Foray, Patti Gilbert, Shepard Menken, Cliff Norton, Larry Thor, Les Tremayne, Michael Earl

Screenplay: Norton Juster, Sam Rosen, based on the Novel by Norton Juster

Cinematography: Lester Shorr

Music: Dean Elliott

Director: Chuck Jones, Abe Levitow, Dave Monaham (live action)

It was odd to happen upon this one, as I recall the Jules Feiffer-illustrated book, but wasn’t aware of the film, despite being of an age when it should have played a lot on TV, its story of imagination and not wasting time encouraging kids to, um, stop wasting time watching TV and going out and using their own imaginations.

After a brief but odd live action sequence, where we get to see young Butch Patrick without Eddie Munster makeup, so bored and unobservant he ignores all sorts of dangers on his way home, our little hero finds a package waiting for him. It opens to reveal a tollbooth and a toy car, which transport him to an animated universe, where he will be called upon to rescue Rhyme and Reason, resolve tensions between warring kingdoms Dictionopolis and Digitopolis, and of course, meet odd characters and collect important talismans along the way.

Jones uses his standard ’60s animation style here, such as seen in his Tom and Jerry shorts and How the Grinch Stole Christmas, including vertiginous roads and all manner of oddly shaped creatures. There’s a Lewis Carroll kind of ridiculousness in the story of one kingdom where only words are important and another where only numbers are important, but there is no sense of wonder or delight. In fact, the film drags, struggling to maintain interesting across ninety minutes of anecdotal, mostly consequence-free incident. At one point, Milo and his watch dog, Tock, are sentenced to six million years in the dungeon by a wandering cop/judge/jailer called Short Shrift, but this is resolved immediately when the King of Dictionopolis calls the two of them to dinner.

Jones has good support from many of the best voice talents in the business, and some of songs are fun, but the best parts are often when he relies on classic shtick from his Warner Bros days (Chroma the Great conducting the sunset is pretty close to Bugs Bunny conducting). He knows funny, but it’s not clear if he or anyone involved know quite how best to make Juster’s pun-filled book into a feature. I love puns, but it’s one thing to figure them out yourself while you read, and another for them to be visualized and explained for you. Sometimes Jones has the right touch, and sometimes, as with Milo literally having to eat his words, when it falls flat.

In Jones’ defense, the book has an underlying scolding DNA that he can’t help but replicate in the film. The theme is that kids should never complain about being bored, because if they open their eyes and learn something, they’d realize they live in an interesting, beautiful world. And that’s fine, but there’s a real square old man quality to the satirical Dr. Kakofonous A. Dischord, who sells all the noise and unpleasant sounds so popular today (with the kids).

A moderately interesting effort from an animation great that wouldn’t be the worst way to pass a rainy afternoon.

archaeology-dig-it: coffee-n-cats: okaylikeforsure: awkwardsit...

Tue, 23 Apr 2013 20:24:02 -0700

archaeology-dig-it:

coffee-n-cats:

okaylikeforsure:

awkwardsituationist:

“world of averages” - composite images culled from thousands of individual portraits resulting in symmetrical average faces.

Dang.

I just had an anthrogasm.

wow so cool

Jeff, Who Lives At Home (2011)

Mon, 22 Apr 2013 20:36:07 -0700

Starring: Jason Segel, Ed Helms, Judy Greer, Susan Sarandon, Rae Dawn Chong

Screenplay: Jay Duplass, Mark Duplass

Cinematography: Jas Shelton

Music: Michael Andrews

Directors: Jay Duplass, Mark Duplass

As a people, we want to make sense of a harsh, confusing and seemingly indifferent world. We want to feel our suffering serves a purpose, or be told who or what is causing that suffering. We want to feel we are not just consuming food and oxygen until a random time when we are suddenly extinguished and soon after forgotten. If our lives are unsatisfying and aimless now, we want to be told that perhaps there is a greater destiny unfolding right around the corner. We are looking for signs.

Jeff, who lives at home with his widowed mother, is looking for signs as well, but more actively than most of us. What we infer is probably dozens of viewings of the poorly-received M. Night Shyamalan film, Signs, intensified by weed, has convinced him his purpose will be made clear if he just pays attention to the portents. One day, he decides to follow what he perceives is a sign, a wrong number, which leads him to follow a man on a bus with the name “Kevin” on his jersey. Kevin doesn’t hold the answers—far from it—but he’s part of a journey that will bring Jeff into contact with his older brother, Pat, a very different type, a would-be big operator who is still working at a place where he has the company logo embroidered on his short sleeve work shirt. Pat’s need to feel like he’s in control of his life and going places leads him to make bad, impulsive decisions like buying a sports car he can’t really afford and, with Jeff, crashes almost immediately. The car was the last straw for wife Linda, and Jeff finds his journey to discover what sign “Kevin” has for him is curtailed by having to try to help Pat save his marriage. Or maybe it’s all part of the same journey, as these three as well as their lonely mom and her best friend and coworker, Carol, will find themselves drawn together in a traffic jam that gives Jeff what he’s looking for.

The filmmakers, Jay and Mark Duplass, have never failed to create films of warmth and authentic human behavior. This was their biggest budget yet, and they use it well, with a thrilling climax on par with movies costing many times what theirs cost, as well as the car crash that at least yields a funny scene that drives home how pathetic Pat is. More importantly, they get an excellent cast and use them to their strengths. Jeff is a muddled but sweet, earnest dreamer, so who better than Jason Segel? Uptight loser seething with anger? That’s Ed Helms. Susan Sarandon is sexy at any age—Judy Greer as well, come to mention it—but while their roles aren’t large, they’re given characters of greater depth than they often get, and it’s nice to see Rae-Dawn Chong get a nice part, too. It may not be a film of great sophistication, but it has staying power.