Jayclops' musings on his favorite pasttime and escape.
Knocked up and about.
October 10, 2007Knocked Up (Judd Apatow, 2007)
Apatow has a gift for the romantic, but it doesn't clearly show with all the parading raunchiness courtesy of testosterone-driven males - guys locked up in their pubescent sexual angst are both the center of humor and sometimes heartbreak, but one will definitely arrive on that. That tug of heart creeps up slowly because you always find yourself in the surefire belly laughs with the endless sexual jests and back-to-back mishaps. In the end, you get that stupid guys who do realize how an asshole they are and you witness what they go through in the process of the realization, the attempt to change can be a bit, yes, mushy and sweet. But it's as real as it get and we buy that it can happen.
The plot can be abused perfectly in telenovela proportions: pretty, career-oriented lady getting a big break in life blows it all up when he meets a dope-smoking slacker who instead of going home and just wanking about her, miraculously gets her into bed. The girl is Alison Scott (Katherine Heigl of Grey's Anatomy), a once-production crew who is promoted as an entertainment show anchor (funny cameo by James Franco). To celebrate, she goes clubbing with her sister Debbie (Apatow's real-life partner Leslie Mann) and chanced upon Ben Stone (Seth Rogen), entirely the exact opposite of what is Alison, with his similar long-time slacker buddies on the verge of putting up Flesh of the Stars (a soft porn site devoted to databanking nude/sex scenes of celebs) and whose idea of food redounds to a one-year supply of copious spaghetti.
Oh yes, the miracles of being drunk and what loser-fantasies come true. Problem is: it turns out that Ben enamored by such a "score" misinterpreted the orgasmic "just do it!" remark into a throw-the-condom-and-just-get-to-it haste. Both wake up in entirely different moods, part ways, and meets again after 8 weeks in cataclysmically hilarious proportions. This is when it gets more all-over-the-floor hilarious when the opposite sexes exchange endless banter that makes you think where Apatow plucks his crisp punchliners like apple-picking in a lush orchard.
Rogen and Heigl are perfect for their roles but it helps than Mann and Paul Rudd who plays Debbie's husband Pete are there to supply added funny moments. The married couple seem to mirror the foreboding circumstance that Alison and Ben would most likely get into. It can get tediously for a comedy but it does so to give light to the other couple's characters as well as the equally funny sidekicks of Ben especially Chewbaca-Martin Scorsese on Dope-vagina-looking-John Lennon wannabe Martin.
Apatow gets smack down to the pregnancy crisis so refreshingly honest. This is where the individual hang-ups rear its heads and the irreconcilability of the two personalities scream at each other. But in this difficult transition, the unlikely couple gets to know each other more and sincerely attempt to foster not just friendship and eventual intimacy but the acceptability of each others differences. There's lots of, no, plenty, plenty, of gross-out moments and sex (simulated and real) but there's a lot of heart too, when you come to think of it. So I think it's perfectly okay to bring your girlfriend.
Erase, rewind
September 18, 2007The Lookout (Scott Frank, 2007)
Joe plays a psychologically-damaged teenager Chris Pratt once a big-shot hockey star player until one night of disaster ruined it all. Now he is forced to shy away from his rich life and confine himself to the daily rigors of memory retention. The car crash affected his short term memory that even finding the correct sequence to simple tasks like opening a can of tomato sauce seems a chore to do. He has to dig deep in his mind the steps to accomplish such task rendering him helpless and impatient at times. To be able to properly remember these routinary sequence, he writes the steps down in his little notebook or put post-its in conspicuous places (reminiscent of Guy Pearce's character in Memento).
This day-to-day, almost routinary coping with the rigors demanded by his deficiency would take another dangerous turn when he meets up with a group of bank robbers. What seemed to be a nonchalant friendly encounter with a charming thug Gary Spargo (Matthew Goode, he played Scarlett Johansson's fiancee in Woody Allen's Match Point) will play out as a deliberate attempt to coax him into being the lookout in the group's carefully-plotted heist of the small-town bank where Chris works as the night-time attendee-janitor (makes you wonder how small can this small-town bank be). To lure him into the devil's lair, he is seduced by Luvlee Lemons (Isla Fisher) whose character would take an interesting turn in the latter part. Also in Spargo's gang is the the wordless Bone, menacing and undoubtedly cold-hearted.
Frank who wrote Get Shorty and Out of Sight, is purposeful and efficient in his directing as is his writing. Clearly, we know where it is headed and he doesn't jazz up the ante by concocting some cocky twist along the way. This is the kind of project that the writer-directors are meant to do. The mood is upped thanks to the equally brilliant cinematography of Alar Kivilo (Fargo, A Simple Plan). The breathtaking panorama of the snowy background is a perfect contrast to Chris's claustrophobic and bland workplace and apartment. The quick-cut editing during scenes where frustrated Chris does a chore easily distinguishes his character. What is also amazing is the sense of bewilderment on the dreamlike character of Chris' girlfriend (after the crash) appearing everytime he watches the skiers. The film does not end happily enough though but we can deal with it no matter how much we would want life to be better for Chris.
From what I've seen so far, Jeff Daniels portrays one of the year's best supporting performances. His portrayal of Lewis, Chris' blind caretaker, is nuanced and touching and Daniels plays it out so effortlessly (I think he was really terrific in The Squid and the Whale). In one particular scene where Chris tells him his going to move, we feel his hurt despite his sunglass-covered eyes. But outstanding of them all is Joe, who gets into such a complex character, whose emotions and difficulty appear most to the audience than the people around him. His confusion, frustration is in stares of his eyes - when he looks at the screen before it freezes, it's both pitiful and haunting.
Bourne to kill.
September 11, 2007The Bourne Ultimatum (Paul Greengrass, 2007)
It would be difficult to compare it with its predecessors especially because admittedly I haven’t seen them (I rented Supremacy but due date came with it unscratched), much more contain the energy that has filled Ludlum’s novels back in the 80s. And perhaps, that is what makes this a great action movie. The plot is familiar and the often-trodden genre can be a disaster if it weren’t for a great filmmaker at its helm. Paul Greengrass, fresh from United 93 praise, directs for the second time the third and supposedly last franchise that had critics say the best of the trilogy.
Here, Greengrass shows why he is the master of mobility. For an action movie, Bourne doesn’t just move, it spins and kicks its way around, like a wonderfully orchestrated kung fu action sequence only this time it feels much closer that you can almost feel the punches and thrashing as rhythm. Greengrass clearly displays this in the first 10 to 15 minutes of the film – spanning 5 cities around the globe – it is that fast. Camerawork is mostly handheld and most scenes are near five-second long, some even shorter. The frenetic style pulsates with so much energy that is sustained throughout the film – from the opening sequences to the car chases to the up-close and brutal fight scenes.
Matt Damon reprises his role as the amnesiac Jason Bourne, a CIA-labeled spy who remembers the faces of the persons he killed but never the motivation. We see flashbacks of the time when his girlfriend was killed (in the second movie) and this time he confesses to his erstwhile colleague Nikki Parsons (Julia Stiles) this particular memory. The film ultimately leads to Bourne reliving it all back from the time he was recruited in the Blackbriar program – referred to by the CIA bigwig played by David Strathairn (Edward L. Murrow in Good Night and Good Luck) as “sharp end of the stick” – and of course making the bad guys pay.
Damon is pitch-perfect as Bourne. He has that wonderfully serene look that does not pull too much emotional strings yet we still feel for the troubled hero persona. What is good about Damon here, and I believe in any of his performances, is that he manages to sink into the character, but he never overdoes it to the point that you can’t tell him apart when you see him playing another character. He was excellent in The Good Shepherd and he absorbs you into the character despite the film’s excruciatingly long chronicle and I hoped for the day I would see a film written by him again, though not necessarily with his buddy Ben Affleck.
Damon is surrounded by top-caliber actors who need not flinch a muscle to stamp their presence. Aside from Strathairn and Stiles, Joan Allen plays the sympathetic CIA agent Pamela Landy and Albert Finney whose evilness lie in the menacing quiet of his stares. Because the film pulsates with energy, it definitely has the heart. And while we are quickly enraptured by the sensation that all the action in the screen has created, at the core of the movie is a look at the horrors of the structures and systems we have created. Jason Bourne is a hero yet he is also a reminder, a clear representation of what society has spawned, and he needs to be saved as well.
Silent struggles
August 20, 2007The Battleship Potemkin (Sergei Eisenstein, 1925)
I used to always rent this book from the library on world cinema and that's how I got interested in foreign films. Though I didn't have the means to view them, the readings quite sustained that interest. Two directors and their films intrigued me the most. One is Luis Bunuel, who debuted as a filmmaker through his groundbreaking experimental short called Un Chien Andalou, which I saw earlier this year as well as the social realist Mexican film called Los Olvidados. The other one is Russian Sergei Eisenstein whose The Battleship Potemkin has been hailed as one of the most, if not, the most important film in earlier cinematic history. As one of the articles I've read says, Eisenstein's Potemkin "wrote the grammar of cinema".
The most popular reference to the movie is the sequence which has been touted as the most copied - the Odessa steps sequence. The closest reference I had of the film then was Brian de Palma's The Untouchables. De Palma's version of the sequence very much resembles the original where you have an infant in a cradle rolling down in a lengthy staircase. While the character of Costner saves the baby and kills the bad guy, the original Odessa steps however, leads up to a brutal ending of the Odessa Massacre episode in the five-part Potemkin.
Potemkin was banned in several countries even at one point in its Russian roots. The film achieved a landmark status that Eisenstein was commissioned to an American film outfit but failed as did his other attempts in the commercial arena. Reportedly, there was much contention also as to the accuracy of the retelling of the story which is based on the 1905 Potemkin mutiny. Eisenstein has structured the film into five parts or episodes which depicts in memory the events of that failed uprising. The first part, Men and the Maggots, introduces us to the miserable conditions of the sailors aboard the ship. Indeed, the unrest brewed from the meat with maggots (and the soup that was made of it) being force-fed to the hapless proletariat.
The Drama on the Quarterdeck shows us the memorable character of Vakulinchuk who can be seen as the symbol of what cruelty and injustice has brought upon them. Vakulinchuk courageously shouted to the officers ordered by the captain to kill the disobedient sailors, "Brothers, who are you shooting at?" Mutiny ensued and Vakulinchuk was shot. His body fished out of the sea where he was thrown was laid in the shore of Odessa. The people, also long-oppressed under the czarist regime, trooped to see the dead body and soon a massive unrest (The Odessa Steps episode) filled the city but was violently ended by the Russian militia. Meeting the Squadron, the last episode, a celebratory ode to the victory claimed by the sailors upon successfully passing a Russian fleet without being fired.
Having seen it now, The Battleship Potemkin is indeed a powerful film, notwithstanding the time and social conditions when it was made. After all, as Eisenstein intended, it is a revolutionary call and works as a cautionary tale on one hand. It is important though as a material not just for political discourse but the dialectic of film editing. Each episode is masterfully shot with the basics of juxtaposing images to create force and tension, particularly the montages of episodes 4 and 5 leaves a big room for discourse for anyone interested in the film language. It's the first silent film I saw (or I think I can remember seeing). Despite the short dialogue - a definitive call to action - read in title cards, and the score to help supply the tension and drama, Potemkin doesn't leave you quite unstirred.
The rebel comes of age.
August 11, 2007Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (David Yates, 2007)
The fifth installment to the Harry Potter franchise, Order of the Phoeix, cuts down on the overbearing special effects that normally wows kids (there’s even no Quidditch), tones down unnecessary “wizarding” histrionics, goes straight to the heart of the matter, but still packs a wallop. If not for Cuaron directing Prisoner of Azkaban, I would have easily picked this one as the most grounded and best adaptation in the series. Here, we see Harry elevated into a different playing field, one that tests the essence of his unique personality and gift.
Newcomer David Yates replacing last year’s Mike Newell did an impressive job on such a daunting task. By the looks of it, the fanaticism attached to the series was never raised to the fore; you won’t feel a filmmaker’s compunction to giddily meet his audience’s expectations, especially those who have closely followed the book. Similarly, just like the book, Order of the Phoenix is a departure from childlike fantasies and machinations of the imaginative mind. Hello emotional crisis and adolescent nuances (and the proverbial kiss). Thus, Potter 5 marks Harry’s coming-of-age.
Glumly waiting for his entry into fifth year, he is faced with the threat of expulsion after using a Patronus spell within the sight of a Muggle (his burly cousin Dudley). But of course it is for a reason: Dementors, ghostlike creatures which suck out the al the happiness in you, attacked the two forcing Harry to cast the spell. He is put on trial by the Ministry of Magic led by its shadowy minister Cornelius Fudge. This unjustly-dealt matter with the improper use of magic is the beginning of the intervention of the Ministry with the academic affairs at Hogwarts, primary of which is the designation of a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge (played with menacing delight by Imelda Staunton). The school becomes a guarded castle where numerous (some pointless) educational decrees that is suppose to curb academic corruption is issued at the slightest behest of the High Inquisitor Umbridge.
The presence of the Hogwarts Hitler that is Umbridge compounds the tumultuous fifth year when Harry seems to be experiencing a sudden shift of personality brought about by the later-prophesied connection between him and Lord Voldemort (Ralph Fiennes). He is greeted with jeers from the students, even his fellow Gryffindor housemates, when The Daily Prophet denounces him as a liar for believing that the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back. He constantly dreams of a dark alley that seems to be the Department of Mysteries and strongly feels he resembles the serpent in his dreams, one time attacking Mr. Weasly. The dream turns out to be true, for at that time Mr. Weasly was assigned to guard the door – one of the tasks that the Order of the Phoenix, a group of Hogwarts alumni who has fought the Dark Lord, has set out to do.
One of the strongest qualities of the Potter franchise is its strong casting (not just because it’s like a big British thespic showdown, but yes because of that too). Hogwarts mainstays Maggie Smith as Professor Minerva McGonagall, Robbie Coltrane as Hagrid, Michael Gambon as Albus Dumbledore, David Thewlis as Professor Lupin, Emma Thompson as Professor Trelawney, Alan Rickman as Professor Severus Snape among others stretch out their thespic muscles despite the limited time. Gary Oldman as Harry’s godfather, the only remaining familial bond Harry has, returns as Sirius Black and it also introduces new characters that are worthy of attention: Death-eater Bellatrix Lestrange, the deranged cousin of Sirius who escaped Azkaban along with other death-eaters, is portrayed by Helena Bonham Carter, and the character of Luna Lovegood, an eccentric Ravenclaw (?) junior who joins Harry and the rest of Dumbledore’s Army gang. More screen presence for the character of Neville Longbottom.
As any other film version of the series, the risk of taking out portions from the book is a necessary and challenging task. The transitions in narrative sometimes seem to be abrupt and awkward and non-readers are faced with the task of digesting the meat from the screenplay, which I believe could have helped more, particularly the Ron and Hermione character dynamics present in the book as well as putting more weight into Harry's disillusionment to the much-revered stature of his father James, will probably give more impetus to Harry’s emotional turmoil. I cannot complain much as to portions skipped because as a totality, I felt Yates gave justice to the whole theme. The political subtext is slightly drawn but it also helped complemented to the series’ transition into a darker and serious level. The enthralling magic may not be the same as watching the first three but the heart is there, and Harry is ready to tread on mature grounds, something that is worth anticipating for.
Love, (complicated) actually
August 6, 2007Manhattan (Woody Allen, 1979)
Indeed, watching Manhattan feels like an extension or rather a different perspective of viewing the Annie-Alvy dynamics. This time we see various relationships in their rapturous beginnings (like that sweet nothings whispered in the splendid background of the infamous bridge) and lonely endings. I am tempted into thinking about Closer but while Nichols showed the gloomy and vengeful side of the complexity of relationships, Manhattan is suffused with no-nonsense hilarity thanks to Allen’s genius in concocting dialogues full of intellectual ruminations on film, religion, and yes, even falling in and out of love. And you thought discussing it with a seventeen-year old girl is awkward especially if your 42 and a shimmering cap of scalp is screaming right at the top of your head. 
The Zafra synopsis was quick to point out the George Gershwin score as an astounding clue, one that could really make you clinch the which-one-is-which dilemma, given that you knew who Gershwin is. Mr. Gershwin, aside from his musical acclaim, is the one responsible for putting up the orchestra sound that opens up the film carefully melding into the different scenes of New York in black and white. Woody Allen’s reluctant but familiar voice would soon enter the background amidst the early morning fog, traffic and the usual hustle-and-bustle of New Yorkers. He was saying something about Chapter One, the book he is supposed to write about moral decadence in the urban setting. He never finishes a complete thought that would ultimately give us the book’s idea but such uncertainty will provide the fitting orientation into the mess that is Isaac (Allen).
While cringing at the thought of the publication of a book which chronicles the break-up of his marriage with her lesbian ex wife (Meryll Streep), he tries to recover and mask his self-doubt by having an affair with a seventeen year-old girl Tracy (Mariel Hemingway). When he meets with Mary (Diane Keaton) the woman his married best friend Yale (Michael Murphy) is trying to hook up with, the wounded opposites attract and not long after we see Woody spiraling yet again in another emotional rollercoaster. The situations and emotions hit the ground and it hits us because of how real these situations play out. And we laugh incredulously at the comedy of our own childlike immaturity, indecision and insecurities.
We know that the complex situations would go nowhere by normal-people standards and the exposition of the stereotypical attachments to each character would, in the same way, mirror our own. The concluding scene, where Isaac runs to catch the girl before she boards off to London (when she was previously being shooed off by Woody’s character), will probably invite us to respond differently, and reckoning from Woody’s strokes on love, we shake our heads at this complicated, complicated world.
Courage under fire.
July 31, 2007Osama (Siddiq Barmak, 2003)
The young girl (Marina Golbahari) who remained unnamed except for the adopted pseudonym of the infamous Al-Qaeda leader christened to her is portrayed with such efficiency and painstaking resonance that every time we see her in misfortune’s way, we can’t help but want to pluck her out of the screen away from such hapless situations. We first see her amidst a women’s rally which moments after was violently dispersed, some women captured and beaten. Because the men in the family died during the war, her mother thought of a very dangerous ploy – for the girl to disguise as a boy to be able to work and bring food to the famished family. While the grandma tells her a mythical story of a young boy who looked like a girl, she just silently wept as her long hair was being cut off. This will start her harrowing journey into the cruel hands of men and society.
She is forcibly thrown into the rigors of work and the constant jeers from fellow kids who always kid her of her “girlish” appearance – referred in the movie as “nymph”, a boy who looks like a girl similar to the oft-repeated story of her grandma. One of the elder Taliban picks her to be among the ranks of younger generation who will be taught of Taliban fundamentals. Here, she finds herself in more uncompromising and dangerous situations – a public demonstration of how to properly wash the male genitalia in the observance of moral cleansing and being told to climb a dead tree at-the-spur-of-the-moment to prove her “masculinity”.
When punished of this doing, it is here that her disguise is discovered when she had her first menstrual period. The act of public humiliation is so severe and inescapable, not even her protector Esmandi could shield her from the throng of young boys and elders running after her. When she is eventually caught, she is brashly cloaked in the traditional veil which reveals nothing of a woman’s features. She is offered to a public hearing (previously an American journalist was summarily executed after found guilty), is pardoned but “earned” by an old mullah.
The concluding scenes in Osama need not be pronounced to be heartbreaking – after deflowering the girl, the old mullah submerges himself in hot water in the supposed cleansing ritual. Osama is filled with singular scenes that are full of wonder, and Mr. Barmak is a humble genius, culturally significant and poignant in its serenity and simplicity – the planting of the cut hair and the IV leftover from a rundown hospital supposedly watering it, the lyrical melding of the hair-cutting with the storytelling, and other equally brilliant scenes.
True, this is a story of one very unlucky girl but it is also a testament of courage, the immediacy to break the barriers of crooked beliefs and fanaticism, to rise up to the challenge of the times. And Barmak’s film is founded on courage too. After being in exile during the Taliban regime, he found means to be able to tell this meaningful story, not just to his countrymen (who were in indescribable fits of joy upon showing of the first films to come in a long time) but to remind as well the rest of the world of these unsung struggles.
Am not ready to shut up.
July 27, 2007Shut Up and Sing (Barbara Kopple, 2006)
When I saw the three ladies of Dixie Chicks in that infamous lady-of-liberties pose, I immediately pounced on the bootleg (yet again) copy of Shut Up and Sing directed by Oscar-winning documentarian Barbara Kopple, who made Harlan County, USA, a documentary about some mining and labor dispute back in the 70s. She also helmed the sought-after Ella-Enchanted-does-the-striptease debut of Anne Hathaway into so-called mature roles called Havoc which was straight to video (for those who want to see more of Anne's plumpness other than that brief stint in Brokeback Mountain, feast your eyes in this). See, this is what happens after a gaping hiatus. I'm going wayward in my discussion.
Shut Up and Sing chronicles the Dixie Chicks' emotionally-charged, tumultuous political journey in Bush's America where artists are not even spared off. This is an account of what could happen when a seemingly-innocent, jestfully uttered one-liner can change monumentally the career path of one of the most-hailed country acts in America. To cut straight to the core, the political dilemma started in a London concert when lead singer Natalie Maines said: "Just to let you know, we're ashamed that the president of America comes from Texas." Such comment was inevitable in the midst of a massive anti-Bush protest at the height of atrocities in Iraq, but similar anti-war sentiments could not help abate the raging backfire from pro-administration and patriotic Americans who went from burning Dixie Chicks albums to calling the girls names like traitors, whores and other derogatory comments. But what compounded the girls' worse situation was the backlash of their country music roots as country radio stations refused to play their songs after threats from annoyed listeners.
The documentary was called by some critics as a "vanity-project-image-rehabilitation" and self-serving promotional stint but one has to probe of what is really at stake rather than looking at the trying-to-get-back-in-the-scene aspect. The film made it clear that the Chicks stood for what they believe is right and were willing to pay the price, even that of popularity (but what a redemption and vindication it was when they grabbed five Grammys early this year). Kopple along with director Cecilia Peck chronicles the lives of the Chicks as mothers and provide us a glimpse of the backstage life when there is no limelight, when reality sinks in. Somehow, it mirrors a sense of introspection not just with the average American citizen but for every citizen in a nation beset by political forces and the arbitrariness of the laws that protect us.
The First Amendment is such a revered law and I think that most of the constitutional provisions on freedom of speech is patterned like it. Shut Up and Sing may just be the vehicle to check on this supposed freedom -it is thought-provoking and timely. The message should transcend nations where the much-abused word called democracy is still upheld. When the Dixie Chicks returned to the scene, a London theatre, Natalie reiterates the lines; the fervor has never waned. They were greeted by the cheers, this time it seemed much louder and it makes you want to stand up and sing as well that indeed "we're not ready to make nice."
It’s gonna be a bright, sunshiny day.
July 21, 2007Sunshine (Danny Boyle, 2007)
Early on during the first three months of the year, I was giddy up with the news that Danny Boyle will be directing a space movie about the sun dying and all the catastrophic orchestrations of a sci-fi thriller it promises to be (confession: only saw Trainspotting and Millions). Plus the thought of seeing it months before centric America sees it, like people in Europe (which I say is way cooler), should be on the to-do list came April. And then I miss it. Very anticlimactic. I saw it just over the weekend on bootleg with Russian subtitles and just as I thought, I sure would have a blast a hundred times over had I viewed it on wide screen. 
Now it must be said, that running a show like Sunshine is a tough act, because you always have great space epics like Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey and Tarkovsky’s Solaris in hindsight. It’s pretty much understandable, where critics are goaded at how weak the final act is considering the promise and amount of tension the filmmakers have built. Not to mention philosophical and spiritual ruminations on the nature of space travel that will have Solaris and 2001 fans nostalgic and brimming with expectations. But this is not to say that Boyle’s handiwork is a complete fiasco; which I think it’s not. In fact, it’s one of the most satisfying early 2007 offerings so far.
Eight people are launched into space called Icarus II (with the obvious reference to the Greek myth), a second manned mission to sun after the first Icarus shuttle mysteriously broke down on its path – the captain, the navigator, a biologist (Michelle Yeoh), an engineer (Chris Evans), a space pilot (Rose Byrne), a comms officer, a psychologist and a physicist (Cillian Murphy). Forget defying laws of physics here, but the ship protected by gold shields will deliver a nuclear payload supposed to ignite the dying sun thus saving mankind from extinction. Daunting as their mission is, the crew is just about to discover the real terror other than the fact that they may not be able come back after all.
It’s pretty geeky science but nothing that will prompt you to dive into encyclopedia and physics textbooks. Garland, who wrote the screenplay manages to fuse tension, character dynamics and the inevitable metaphysical aspects of a space thriller but there is a lot more to be wanted in terms character justification. It makes up though in isolated scenes of visual spectacle most notably in scenes where a character or the crew gaze at the sun thru protected sunglasses (I imagine how multi-coated it can be). Boyle’s frenetic camerawork does wonders for instance when it is inside the space suits giving us the claustrophobic feel and mounting fear though it can be annoying during the ending montage.
The space walk, where the captain (Hiroyuki Sanada) and Capa, the physicist (Murphy) repairs the damaged shields, is breathtaking scene and the voice of the rebelling super-computer is an obvious homage to 2001's HAL 9000; the existence of unwanted visitos to Solaris but pales in comparison as to the depth and importance. Psychologist Searle (Cliff Curtis) seems to provide the moral core of the characters, we find him retreating into the ocular room more than once to be engulfed in the marvel of the sun.
The characters would start to dwindle and die terrifying deaths up to the last act where the shift can get messy and somehow anticlimactic. The doom seems to be apparent and I get it that the biggest gripe would really come from the major shift. Man, in the end, gets to see the promise of a new day, and as the doomed crew set the controls of the sun, this should move the core of man's heart.
Family matters.
July 19, 2007The Magnificent Ambersons (Orson Welles, 1942)
Then I would later learn that Citizen Kane would end up as the THE greatest film of all time in numerous film circle surveys both highly-acknowledged and those that are spread www. The Magnificent Ambersons, on the other hand, is less popular and considered by some as a ‘great lost film’. It was probably due to fact that there were controversies surrounding the release of the film – reportedly it was cut down to a considerable length by the film distributor. Of course, every sane director would go nuts if commercialistic meddlers hack their way into a film’s production.
Magnificence is not only seen in the grace of the camera but how much Welles achieve in tackling a subject matter which in that period of America may not be the popular cup of tea that would normally end up in a jovial tête-à-tête. It is both a testament to time and change but more importantly it is a great examination of the complexities of family life, the inexplicable connection and its effects on our external relationships. Most likely we are tempted to refer to the Greek myth of Oedipus or to my memory a rather similar filmic version of D.H. Lawrence’s Sons and Lovers.
This is manifest in the mother-and-son tandem of George and Isabel –George (Tim Holt) being the spoiled grown-up that he is and Isabel (Dolores Costello), somewhat frustrated wife who pours out her love and affection to her son. A close relative, Aunt Fanny is also a spoiler. The tension mounts when George learns the impending marriage of her mother to Eugene (Joseph Cotton), an automobile dealer who has a daughter (the lovely Ann Baxter) whom George will have the time to flirt about. But as the dynamics of their relationship, George and Isabel would end up with either of daughter and father: Isabel, mired in her own insecurities and George, well, as spoilt as he is stagnates in his self-importance.
The magnificence of the Ambersons would soon diminish. After their trip around the world, which is supposed to cover up the truth of their long absence, they found that much of the place has changed (seeming to suggest the era of industrial revolution). Here we see a very significant contrast –their self-absorbed world as opposed to the prevailing progress, which they have not bear witness. There’s a certain quality of nostalgia in everything even in Welles’ voice filled with longing and passion who turns out to be the narrator who opens and ends the film. 
