More often than not, film buffs and critics and the like talk mostly about the director or "auteur" of a film rather than the cast and crew; to which cursory attention is paid. Directors themselves often seem to place themselves above others who work in film, even great ones like Roman Polanski, who said -
"The best films are because of nobody but the director."
This may just be coming from his ego, as from his films one can gather that Polanski understood the collaborative process of film very well. But while the director, or sometimes "auteur" may be the creative force behind the film, I submit that the best films are because of nobody but the director, cinematographer, actor, actress, tea-boy, caterer, cameraman, lighting man, makeup lady (sorry if I'm stereotyping), composer, producer, music superviser, editor, casting director, production designer, art director, set decorator, costume designer, assistant director, sound-man, special-effects man, stuntman, electrical supervisor, title designer, and last but definitely not least; the writer, often a huge creative force behind a film. For who can watch Citizen Kane and not see that it couldn't have worked not only without Orson Welles as director, with his distinctive and powerful visual style, but without the cast, cinematographer (who could fail to notice), and of course Orson Welles the actor. For no-one else could have possibly played Charles Foster Kane, at least not the Charles Foster Kane I know, although I don't know him fully (I don't think anyone does). And no-one else but Agnes Moorehead could have played his cold mother; no-one else but Joseph Cotton could have played Jed Leland. So film is without a shadow of a doubt a collaborative process, despite the elitist attitude of some critics and auteurs, like Hitchcock and his "cattle" theory. Often great directors have mistreated their collaborators, most famously Fritz Lang; who threw Peter Lorre down a flight of stairs on the set of "M," Billy Wilder who bullied his assistants, and Hitchcock who sexually harrassed women and played cruel practical jokes on people. This inherent lack of humility in some famous directors I maintain is the product of ego, for they still knew how to collaborate, and knew that without those around them they wouldn't be much. Robert Bresson's disliked actors, and opted to use non-professionals or "models" in his films. As great a director as he was, he was very much against acting as a profession, or anything as a profession perhaps.
And I myself am guilty of being painfully ignorant of so many involved in the making of a film. So now I've decided upon watching film credits the whole way through, and reading every name that comes up. And the director is definitely not the only one with a whole creative vision, for would Chinatown have worked without Robert Towne and his knowledge and experience of California, and what would Tarantino the director be without Tarantino the writer? Direction is simply and obviously the combination of every element...as important as the director is, he/she simply points...
Monday 29 December 2008
Wednesday 24 December 2008
Why TV adaptations never usually work...
...
I generally don't like TV. British TV is more dour than a wet seal in a tar pit, and is usually just crap anyway. The only things I watch on TV are Desperate Housewives and The Simpsons, and of course the occasional film, even though they always show the good ones at the most awkward times. For example, Robert Altman's Nashville was on at the ridiculous time of 1:40 AM not long ago. Of course that's not always the case, but I'm detracting from the point. Films based on TV shows are almost always ways for people to shamelessly cash in on a successful TV show. They're usually tarted up to be "cinematic," even though many episodes of The Simpsons were far more cinematic than that awful cash-cow from a couple of years ago. What was Matt Groening thinking!?! Did he actually have much to do with the movie, or was it written by a bunch of movie-execs and the writers of shit like Family Guy? Because unless Groening has lost a huge amount of imagination and creativity in the space of a few years, he is a genuinly great comedy writer. Just look at the ill-fated cartoon gem Futurama. And it's not only The Simpsons, but other great shows like The X-Files. That movie was dire. As with The Simpsons they took a great TV show, stripped it of imagination and creativity and loaded it with a huge budget and tons of effects to make it more "cinematic." The X-Files was almost Lynchian in parts; it was wonderful on TV. But the movie is a cliched piece of crap about huge government conspiracies and flying hubcaps. The final scene, in which a giant UFO flies over Mulder and Scully is laughable. I mean, just a plain UFO, nothing more or less? How imaginitive of them...
I generally don't like TV. British TV is more dour than a wet seal in a tar pit, and is usually just crap anyway. The only things I watch on TV are Desperate Housewives and The Simpsons, and of course the occasional film, even though they always show the good ones at the most awkward times. For example, Robert Altman's Nashville was on at the ridiculous time of 1:40 AM not long ago. Of course that's not always the case, but I'm detracting from the point. Films based on TV shows are almost always ways for people to shamelessly cash in on a successful TV show. They're usually tarted up to be "cinematic," even though many episodes of The Simpsons were far more cinematic than that awful cash-cow from a couple of years ago. What was Matt Groening thinking!?! Did he actually have much to do with the movie, or was it written by a bunch of movie-execs and the writers of shit like Family Guy? Because unless Groening has lost a huge amount of imagination and creativity in the space of a few years, he is a genuinly great comedy writer. Just look at the ill-fated cartoon gem Futurama. And it's not only The Simpsons, but other great shows like The X-Files. That movie was dire. As with The Simpsons they took a great TV show, stripped it of imagination and creativity and loaded it with a huge budget and tons of effects to make it more "cinematic." The X-Files was almost Lynchian in parts; it was wonderful on TV. But the movie is a cliched piece of crap about huge government conspiracies and flying hubcaps. The final scene, in which a giant UFO flies over Mulder and Scully is laughable. I mean, just a plain UFO, nothing more or less? How imaginitive of them...
Saturday 13 December 2008
DVD special features...
...
When I buy a DVD, I mainly want the movie, unless there's an interesting documentary or featurette with it, and at good value. I recently bought the Belle De Jour special edition DVD for a cool £9 at Borders. It comes with a doc. about the movie, and some other features. I despise audio commentary over movies, so I was a little irked when I read there was one by some "Professor" on the disc. If I want intellectual crap I'll read something by Roger Ebert or the like. I hate the idea of watching a great film with someone talking you through it. I tried an audio commentary once, with the film Alien, and I found that it simply killed the movie. My point is simple - special features should be seperate from the movie, they shouldn't kill the experience with a bogus commentary from some pompous film teacher. To think they actually put an audio commentary over Citizen Kane, again by some film "Professor." Can you imagine the image of the burning sled accompanied to the sound of someone talking a load of crap to himself during the movie? I don't know why some filmmakers agree to putting audio commentaries over their movies; it's ridiculous!
I quite like a good documentary to watch the morning after the main feature; I found the doc. for The Shining fascinating and entertaining. Of course, movie documentaries can be tedious and academic, full of interviews with people telling how great it was and whatever, and with no real insight into the making of a movie. That's what I look for in a good movie documentary. Some history about the film and insight into the making of it. I find the filmmaking process fascinating; how the grand illusion is created...
When I buy a DVD, I mainly want the movie, unless there's an interesting documentary or featurette with it, and at good value. I recently bought the Belle De Jour special edition DVD for a cool £9 at Borders. It comes with a doc. about the movie, and some other features. I despise audio commentary over movies, so I was a little irked when I read there was one by some "Professor" on the disc. If I want intellectual crap I'll read something by Roger Ebert or the like. I hate the idea of watching a great film with someone talking you through it. I tried an audio commentary once, with the film Alien, and I found that it simply killed the movie. My point is simple - special features should be seperate from the movie, they shouldn't kill the experience with a bogus commentary from some pompous film teacher. To think they actually put an audio commentary over Citizen Kane, again by some film "Professor." Can you imagine the image of the burning sled accompanied to the sound of someone talking a load of crap to himself during the movie? I don't know why some filmmakers agree to putting audio commentaries over their movies; it's ridiculous!
I quite like a good documentary to watch the morning after the main feature; I found the doc. for The Shining fascinating and entertaining. Of course, movie documentaries can be tedious and academic, full of interviews with people telling how great it was and whatever, and with no real insight into the making of a movie. That's what I look for in a good movie documentary. Some history about the film and insight into the making of it. I find the filmmaking process fascinating; how the grand illusion is created...
Wednesday 3 December 2008
ENTRY NO. 1 - Dimitri Kirsanoff...
...As I begin this entry I will admit that I have only seen two of his films; Menilmontant and Brumes l'automne, both masterpieces in their own right. The latter is a kind of impressionistic poem about emotional decay that uses the Autumn season as a metaphor for this, and Menilmontant; equally impressionistic yet with more gravity; tells the story of two sisters and their struggles through life from their idyllic childhood, to the murder of their parents at the hands of a madman, to their seduction at the hands of a Parisian thug.
Little is known about Kirsanoff the man. He was born in Estonia in 1899 and later moved to Paris where he made many short films, including Menilmontant. For a short while before making films he attended the "Ecole Normale de Musique" in Paris, working as a violinist in a movie house. Then he married actress Nadia Sibirskaia, who starred in both Menilmontant (1927) and Brumes l'automne (1929). Later in his career it seems he was forced into more commercial works. He divorced Nadia Sibirskaia and had a second wife; Monique Kirsanoff. He died in 1957.The story of Menilmontant is ripe, if melodramatic cinematic material, yet what sets Kirsanoff apart from other directors of the time is his unmistakeable and revolutionary style; using jump-cuts, close-ups, transitions and kinetic camera movement that fully immerses and emotionally involves the viewer in the story, not to mention the beautiful and emotive violin music. That said, from what I've seen of his, very few shots he could sustain for very long, but that might only annoy the tracking shot-junkies among film buffs. One thing about Kirsanoff's style is certain - it was fuelled by a strong and powerful visual imagination. Indeed the images in both films are incredible, from the frantic tugging of the curtains in the opening to the two girls frolicking amongst the trees, to the bare expanse of dead trees in Brumes l'automne.
If one were to watch Brumes l'automne after Menilmontant, with no idea the same man directed it, they would be able to tell it was a Kirsanoff film, yet as distinct as his style was, the two films are very different. Menilmontant is quite melodramatic and frantic, whereas Brumes l'automne is more naturalistic and meditative. Brumes l'automne hasn't much of a story, it's more about mood and tone. Both feature fantastic performances, especially from Nadia Sibirskaia, his muse and wife for a short while. I'm not sure which one I prefer. I've seen Brumes l'automne twice and Menilmontant three times. As much as I love Menilmontant, I'm leaning towards the sorrowful Brumes l'automne. Whichever one I love most, rest assured, both are films to be seen and experienced. They are like distant memories or dreams of the past; at once beautiful and at once sad...
Tuesday 2 December 2008
FILM REVIEW - Badlands...
...Terrence Malick's towering achievement, Badlands is a tale of two youngsters, Kit and Holly; both immersed in fantasies based on Hollywood magazines and James Dean movies, who go on a killing spree from South Dakota to Montana. This film is about two underdeveloped youngsters isolated from the rest of the world. There is no psychoanalysis, and no glorification of violence as with Arthur Penn's Bonnie & Clyde. Instead the film is naturalistic, meditative and detached, but never cold. The performances are impeccable, especially from the two leads; Sissy Spacek and Martin Sheen, who lend the characters a kind of perverse innocence and make them interesting. Malick never condemns them either; they are portrayed as human beings. Yet as despicable as Kit Carruthers is, I somehow care for him. He's like a child, unable to comprehend the damage he causes; almost innocent. So it's deeply sad when this odd creation is sentenced to death by the electric chair...as terrible as the pair are, they seem like the only living things in a dead and empty world, giving the film a chaotic and apocalyptic feel...
But what's most impressive about the film is the way Malick imaginitively connects landscape with character. This is evident in one scene in which Holly (Spacek) flatly spouts useless information about movie stars from a celebrity magazine as the flat, desolate "badlands" pass like a convair belt in the background. These people are so detached from reality that when we're with them we feel like we're on another planet; as witness Kit (Sheen) staring into space in a scarecrow like position while a storm occurs in the distance and various creatures observe with curiosity. This sense of isolation, loneliness and the infinite is what makes this film truly haunting. The film ends at an airstrip where Kit and Holly are being flown away. There is a shot of a postman carrying mail to signify that normal life continues even as the insane fantasies of Kit and Holly fly above the clouds and into the sunset...Sunday 23 November 2008
Celluloid junkie...
...
What makes film so addictive? Of course, anything can be addictive, depending on the person. But why have I felt such a strong bond with films, stronger than with anything else? Film I believe is particularly addictive; if you want evidence, look no further than Film General on the IMDb; a conglomeration of film buffs, geeks, fanboys; whatever. I am one of those. I'm a celluloid junkie and I need a hit every few days, and not all of them work so I need to keep searching. The root of the addiction is obvious - there is no experience like watching There Will Be Blood at the cinema. There is no experience like watching Mulholland Dr. at home late into the night; hypnotized by beauty and the dream. Great movie experiences like this that can get people hooked on film. But experiences like those don't come around very often. You have to search for them, and that leads to the discovery of obscure films and the formation of a film buff.
My performance in school has always been seriously hampered by a number of distractions over the years; Star Wars, Lord Of The Rings, video-games, LOST, but all of those fizzled out and turned out to be mere "phases." Film on the other hand, I am obsessed with; unhealthily. But those were simply outlets; something to do at the weekend when I was bored. Film I've come to discover is not just an outlet but an art form, and something that can be penetrate the soul like nothing else. As I've progressed through adolescence I've not only obtained a passionate involvement with films but with the making of films, and my taste has changed greatly over the years.
But I think what most makes film addictive is the fantasy element. Films are dreams, and they can sweep us up with their images; the snow-drenched sled in Citizen Kane, or a screaming Janet Leigh in Psycho. Many are not just escapist but cathartic, and reach a greater truth through imagination and fiction than anything else...
...of course, there is a real danger in this. Films can act as a facillitator for violent and disturbed thoughts. This can be a good thing, as well as a bad thing, for it can release these thoughts, but it can also encourage them. Of course, blaming films for violent actions is stupid, although so many do it. Quite simply, it's easy to blame films, which is why so many do it; it's an easy answer to a hard question. Of course, films can be very irresponsible, for instance Oliver Stone's Natural Born Killers, which stupidly stylizes violence to the point of worshipping it. And that's a film that's supposed to be against violent media. Hypocrite = Oliver Stone (although he's made some fine films). I think a lot of films, even great ones, tend to harbour some perverse awe of or yearning for violence, especially those of Martin Scorsese and David Fincher. This is also quite irresponsible, though not to the extent that Natural Born Killers is. Other directors are very responsible with violence; showing how horrible and painful it is, like Paul Thomas Anderson. And some directors (looking at you Mr. Tarantino), can find humour in violence. I daresay I laughed when Vincent accidentally blew Marvin's head off in Pulp Fiction, even though somebody had just died. Well, it wasn't really the violence I was laughing about, it was the sheer absurdity of it. Much the same can be said of the violence in David Lynch films, although it's much less cartoonish...mostly...
But the best films in my opinion are those which change us; change the way we look at things; at people. Those are the films that help us through life, that give us the best filmic experiences. But now to the question of how to control the addiction. Simple. Keep yourself busy. I watch films less and less now due to schoolwork and my own film I hope to make soon. And remember, not all films are great experiences; some are a bad batch and some are like talcum powder to a coke-addict...
What makes film so addictive? Of course, anything can be addictive, depending on the person. But why have I felt such a strong bond with films, stronger than with anything else? Film I believe is particularly addictive; if you want evidence, look no further than Film General on the IMDb; a conglomeration of film buffs, geeks, fanboys; whatever. I am one of those. I'm a celluloid junkie and I need a hit every few days, and not all of them work so I need to keep searching. The root of the addiction is obvious - there is no experience like watching There Will Be Blood at the cinema. There is no experience like watching Mulholland Dr. at home late into the night; hypnotized by beauty and the dream. Great movie experiences like this that can get people hooked on film. But experiences like those don't come around very often. You have to search for them, and that leads to the discovery of obscure films and the formation of a film buff.
My performance in school has always been seriously hampered by a number of distractions over the years; Star Wars, Lord Of The Rings, video-games, LOST, but all of those fizzled out and turned out to be mere "phases." Film on the other hand, I am obsessed with; unhealthily. But those were simply outlets; something to do at the weekend when I was bored. Film I've come to discover is not just an outlet but an art form, and something that can be penetrate the soul like nothing else. As I've progressed through adolescence I've not only obtained a passionate involvement with films but with the making of films, and my taste has changed greatly over the years.
But I think what most makes film addictive is the fantasy element. Films are dreams, and they can sweep us up with their images; the snow-drenched sled in Citizen Kane, or a screaming Janet Leigh in Psycho. Many are not just escapist but cathartic, and reach a greater truth through imagination and fiction than anything else...
...of course, there is a real danger in this. Films can act as a facillitator for violent and disturbed thoughts. This can be a good thing, as well as a bad thing, for it can release these thoughts, but it can also encourage them. Of course, blaming films for violent actions is stupid, although so many do it. Quite simply, it's easy to blame films, which is why so many do it; it's an easy answer to a hard question. Of course, films can be very irresponsible, for instance Oliver Stone's Natural Born Killers, which stupidly stylizes violence to the point of worshipping it. And that's a film that's supposed to be against violent media. Hypocrite = Oliver Stone (although he's made some fine films). I think a lot of films, even great ones, tend to harbour some perverse awe of or yearning for violence, especially those of Martin Scorsese and David Fincher. This is also quite irresponsible, though not to the extent that Natural Born Killers is. Other directors are very responsible with violence; showing how horrible and painful it is, like Paul Thomas Anderson. And some directors (looking at you Mr. Tarantino), can find humour in violence. I daresay I laughed when Vincent accidentally blew Marvin's head off in Pulp Fiction, even though somebody had just died. Well, it wasn't really the violence I was laughing about, it was the sheer absurdity of it. Much the same can be said of the violence in David Lynch films, although it's much less cartoonish...mostly...But the best films in my opinion are those which change us; change the way we look at things; at people. Those are the films that help us through life, that give us the best filmic experiences. But now to the question of how to control the addiction. Simple. Keep yourself busy. I watch films less and less now due to schoolwork and my own film I hope to make soon. And remember, not all films are great experiences; some are a bad batch and some are like talcum powder to a coke-addict...
Sunday 9 November 2008
Citizen Kane and "greatest films" lists...
...Citizen Kane is not my favourite film. In fact, it's my 5th favourite film. I love it. Anyone with a yearning for the simplicity of childhood should watch this film. After all, everyone has a rosebud; a symbol of innocence. For Charles Foster Kane it is his beloved sled. Was he ever happier in life than when playing with his sled in the snow as a child? Anyway, the film has a universal meaning, one we should all be able to relate to in some way or other. I can understand why many don't like it. The style won't be to everyone's tastes. But even though it's not my favourite film, I love it so, and I'm still perfectly happy for it to be considered "greatest film of all time," after all, it is perhaps the closest the movies have come to perfection...
Which brings me to question the effect of these "greatest films lists" on the average movie-lover. I am sure that the the pedestal this film has been placed upon has stopped people from actually seeing the film. For a while, it stopped me. I saw it countless times on the shelf, but always the thought ran through my head -
"It'll never live up to the hype. And besides, that film will always be around for me to buy any time, I'm sure there are other, more obscure films that are truly worth hunting for."
But, sooner or later I decided -
"Oh what the hell! It's only £3 now, might as well get it."
And I'm glad I did. It's truly a powerful film, and it touched me deeply. The destruction of the sled at the end is truly heartbreaking. I don't care about spoilers here, because it's the experience that counts. It's a film to be seen more than anything. But the "greatest films lists" have caused people who haven't actually seen the film to denounce it as "overrated," and the like. Which is, quite frankly, ridiculous. One of my classmates actually openly declared that he hadn't seen the film, before going on to say that it was overrated and didn't belong at the no. 1 spot, and that The Godfather should have that place. The Godfather? I mean, really? The Godfather is great and all, but it's not flawless cinema! Yes, it's also technically great, acting, directing, cinematography all top-notch, but it doesn't have the expressive force or the humour, sense of fun, or youthful energy of Citizen Kane. In fact I think The Godfather Part II greatly exceeds the original in terms of depth and expressive power. Even then, as much as I absolutely love the film, it would still barely make it into my top 30. Of course, my favourite film, David Lynch's Mulholland Dr., while considered great by many, I doubt would make it into one of these lists. It would be considered too experimental and unconventional. These lists are usually comprised of popular films that don't divide critics...
Critics. They are responsible for these lists, no doubt about it. And there is something almost ritualistic about the way they dance around their favourite films and those which they consider the greatest; uttering praise unto them, not allowing anyone else to join the circle. Quite simply, it is elitism; they want to keep these "great films" and "masterpieces" for themselves. It's just a game designed to keep the average movie-goer watching average movies and the film snobs and intellectuals watching the great ones. Of course, that's just a generalization, it's not always the case. Plenty of casual movie-goers have no doubt had the pleasure of experiencing Citizen Kane, and some critics have even acknowledged the fraudulence of the "greatest films lists," like Pauline Kael and David Thomson...
So what it comes down to is this - don't take heed of these lists. They're really meaningless. Decide for yourself what to watch when you scan the shelves at Borders or HMV. And give Kane a try...
Which brings me to question the effect of these "greatest films lists" on the average movie-lover. I am sure that the the pedestal this film has been placed upon has stopped people from actually seeing the film. For a while, it stopped me. I saw it countless times on the shelf, but always the thought ran through my head -
"It'll never live up to the hype. And besides, that film will always be around for me to buy any time, I'm sure there are other, more obscure films that are truly worth hunting for."
But, sooner or later I decided -
"Oh what the hell! It's only £3 now, might as well get it."
And I'm glad I did. It's truly a powerful film, and it touched me deeply. The destruction of the sled at the end is truly heartbreaking. I don't care about spoilers here, because it's the experience that counts. It's a film to be seen more than anything. But the "greatest films lists" have caused people who haven't actually seen the film to denounce it as "overrated," and the like. Which is, quite frankly, ridiculous. One of my classmates actually openly declared that he hadn't seen the film, before going on to say that it was overrated and didn't belong at the no. 1 spot, and that The Godfather should have that place. The Godfather? I mean, really? The Godfather is great and all, but it's not flawless cinema! Yes, it's also technically great, acting, directing, cinematography all top-notch, but it doesn't have the expressive force or the humour, sense of fun, or youthful energy of Citizen Kane. In fact I think The Godfather Part II greatly exceeds the original in terms of depth and expressive power. Even then, as much as I absolutely love the film, it would still barely make it into my top 30. Of course, my favourite film, David Lynch's Mulholland Dr., while considered great by many, I doubt would make it into one of these lists. It would be considered too experimental and unconventional. These lists are usually comprised of popular films that don't divide critics...
Critics. They are responsible for these lists, no doubt about it. And there is something almost ritualistic about the way they dance around their favourite films and those which they consider the greatest; uttering praise unto them, not allowing anyone else to join the circle. Quite simply, it is elitism; they want to keep these "great films" and "masterpieces" for themselves. It's just a game designed to keep the average movie-goer watching average movies and the film snobs and intellectuals watching the great ones. Of course, that's just a generalization, it's not always the case. Plenty of casual movie-goers have no doubt had the pleasure of experiencing Citizen Kane, and some critics have even acknowledged the fraudulence of the "greatest films lists," like Pauline Kael and David Thomson...
So what it comes down to is this - don't take heed of these lists. They're really meaningless. Decide for yourself what to watch when you scan the shelves at Borders or HMV. And give Kane a try...
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