Month: August 2012

Me: “I’m flying into NYC directly from Telluride, and staying for two days before flying up to Toronto. And I have to admit that I’m not that taken with the New York Film Festival lineup this year. Sorry but I’m not. Not Fade Away is allegedly a problem, and Life of Pi is a wide-eyed 3D storybook fable. The Olivier Assayas and Flight are the only ones I really want to see, and the rest of the films are Cannes and Toronto leftovers…not impressed. Plus Flight will screen on the Paramount lot right after NYFF so that might be good enough for me.

“Plus I will not pay those godawful New York hotel or sublet rates for two weeks straight. I tried Pod 39 — $450 and change for two nights? I’m sorry, but is that someone’s idea of a low-cost deal?”

“And I’m not flying to [unnamed West Coast city] on 8.22 to see The Master either. That puppy definitely sounds like something I can wait until Toronto to see.”

Colleague: “I think the NYFF line-up is highly impressive. You’ve unfortunately made up your mind on Life of Pi without knowing the first thing about it. I think it’s a major get for the opener. I’m very excited for Flight. And Not Fade Away has been re-edited from the problem’ cut. And I’m happy to see a good selection of Cannes or Toronto holdovers.”

Me: “I know some things about Life of Pi. I know it’s got a fucking Bengal tiger in it. And a zebra. And some of it takes place upon heaving stormy seas. And it’s in 3D. And it stars a young actor from India, and that his eyes are bug-eyed with wonder or fear or excitement most of the time. It’s obviously a wonderful, eye-filling adventure fable, perhaps for the whole family. Where did you hear or read that the problem version of Not Fade Away has been re-edited?”

Colleague: “You have no idea about Pi. But thankfully there are those who know of things like spiritual journey as metaphor, and they won’t dig their heels in and pronounce, ‘This is what this movie is. It’s only what I see, not what’s behind the imagery.'”

Me: “Oh, I don’t know. I think that snarling tigers and heaving stormy seas are metaphors in and of themselves. I think the decision to use these images is, in a sense, content. I think it’s Ang Lee declaring, ‘Let’s put on a show!’ And let’s slip in a metaphor while we’re at it.'”

Colleague: “I’m told that they tested Not Fade Away some time back and that it didn’t go well, and that [director David] Chase worked up a different version that dealt with those issues and that it’s better now. How much better, I can’t say.”

The aging lawman with a turkey neck, a man of virtue, kindly manner, slight pot belly, face like a satchel. That was Tommy Lee Jones in No Country for Old Men. Throw in a little Gran Torino action — i.e., an ornery old cuss with plenty of moxie and muscle tone…spit in your eye, kick like a mule. Mix, shake and throw in some third-act Mexican cartel carnage and you’ve got Kim Ji-woon‘s The Last Stand. Is this the first half-decent Arnold Schwarzenegger film since he left Sacramento? Or just a good poster?

The impediment, of course, is that Arnold’s face doesn’t have that creased weary elegance that benefitted Mr. Jones in No Country. AS’s face looks re-molded. I’m not convinced that any border-town sheriff has ever been able to afford such a procedure.

Logline: “A drug cartel leader escapes from a courthouse and tries to make the Mexican border. But he first has to get past an aging sheriff (Schwarzenegger) and his inexperienced staff.” Pic costars Jaimie Alexander, Harry Dean Stanton, Genesis Rodriguez, Rodrigo Santoro, Forest Whitaker, Peter Stormare, Johnny Knoxville, Zach Gilford, Luis Guzman. Wait…doesn’t the projected 1.18.13 opening mean it’ll probably be genre sludge?

So the weekend’s #1 film, The Expendables 2, is something of a weak sister. The goony plastic-surgery action drama is playing in 3316 situations and looking at a so-so $30 million by Sunday night. And yet audiences gave it a CinemaScore grade of A-minus. CinemaScore respondents tend to err on the side of politeness, but an A-effing-minus? For a movie that efilmcritic’s Peter Sobczynski said “bears the same basic relationship to a genuinely thrilling action extravaganza that an order from Papa John’s has to actual pizza”? That the Globe and Mail‘s Rick Groen called “breezily forgettable”? That EW‘s Lisa Schwarzbaum called “excellent crap”?

I decided to forego the pleasure of seeing The Expendables 2…sorry. Maybe someone who’s seen it can explain how it deserves an A-minus? It sounds that by any fair standard that a B-minus or more likely a C would be the way to go. Wouldn’t the presence of facelifts automatically drop the rating down half a point, at least? An Expendables 2 sans plastic surgery would most likely get an A, in other words?

There’s a film series honoring the recently deceased Ernest Borgnine happening at the American Cinematheque, and one of tonight’s features is Richard Fleischer‘s The Vikings (’58). Borgnine plays an elder Viking leader named Ragnar, the father of Kirk Douglas‘s Einar. He’s out at the end of Act Two when he’s forced to jump into a pit of hungry wolves, but first he persuades Tony Curtis‘s Eric to let him die like a Viking with a sword in hand.

I’m mentioning this because I’m bothered by a line in the American Cinematheque online program notes. It says that The Vikings “is a fast, funny spectacle not to be missed on the big screen.” Funny? It’s a broadly staged popcorn movie, okay. And with a sense of humor, for sure, but there’s nothing comical about any of it. It’s campy — any movie about taking women with force (“Bite! Scratch!”) and looting and howling and fighting with axes and swords is a hoot on some level — but it has a touch of genuine gravitas, about brotherly ties and the fear of God.

Here’s how I put it six and half years ago just after Fleischer died:

“For me, Fleischer’s peak was The Vikings — the 1958 historical action epic that was mostly dominated by producer-star Kirk Douglas, but was notable for two dramatic elements that still work today.

“One is what seems to happen inside the male Viking characters (particularly Douglas and Borgnine’s) whenever Odin, the Nordic God, is mentioned. We hear a haunting, siren-like ‘Odin theme’ on the soundtrack, and these rough blustery types suddenly stop their loutish behavior and seem to almost retreat into a childlike emotional place…a place that’s all about awe and fear of death, God, judgment. This happens maybe three or four times in this big, unsophisticated popcorn movie (which nonetheless feels far sturdier and more classically composed than a typical big-budget popcorn actioner made today), and each time it does The Vikings has a spirit.

“The other thing that still works is the film’s refusal to make much of the fact that Douglas and costar Tony Curtis, mortal enemies throughout the film, are in fact brothers, having both been half-sired by Borgnine. Costar Janet Leigh begs Douglas to consider this ten minutes from the finale, and Douglas angrily brushes her off. But when his sword is raised above a defenseless Curtis at the very end and he’s about to strike, Douglas hesitates. And we know why. And then Curtis stabs Douglas in the stomach with a shard of a broken sword, and Douglas is finished.

“The way Douglas leans back, screams ‘Odin!’ and then rolls over dead is pretty hammy” — okay, call it funny — “but that earlier moment of hesitation is spellbinding — one of the most touching pieces of acting Douglas has ever delivered. Douglas wasn’t very respectful of Fleischer’s authority during the making of The Vikings, and for all I know Fleischer didn’t have that much to do with this final scene…but he probably did, and he deserves our respect for it.”

N.Y. Times critic Manohla Dargis on Robert Pattinson in Cosmopolis: “Nearly affectless at first, Mr. Pattinson makes a fine member of the Cronenbergian walking dead, with a glacial, blank beauty that brings to mind Deborah Kara Unger in the director’s version of J. G. Ballard’s Crash.”

Interjection: Over the decades I have seen many actors do very little in this or that part. Very little and sometimes “nothing”, and they do it very well for somehow they manage to suggest all sorts of internal currents and contemplations. I didn’t get a sense of anything going on inside Pattinson as I watched Cosmopolis.

Back to Dargis: “Mr. Pattinson can be a surprisingly animated presence (at least he was on ‘The Daily Show With Jon Stewart,’ where he recently put in a game appearance), and he may be capable of greater nuance and depth than is usually asked of him.”

Interjection: Pattinson “may” be capable of this? In other words, all his directors so far have asked him to tone down the nuance and the depth?

Back to Dargis: “Certainly, with his transfixing mask and dead stare, [Pattinson] looks the part he plays here and delivers a physical performance that holds up to a battery of abuses, including [a] prostate exam and some anticlimactic tears.”

The oddest thing happened last week. It was around midnight and I was standing at the door of my place and talking to Mouse, my fat Siamese cat, about coming inside. The area was dark but semi-lighted, and Mouse was sitting next to a wooden fence about five or six feet away. And then from stage left an opossum appeared, just casually walking along, no hurry. He passed within inches of Mouse, and there was no hissing, no growling, no arching of the back…nothing.

The opossum exited stage right. He looked old and ragged. A somewhat ugly, icky-looking thing. Black eyes, pink ears, white fuzzy coat, long rat tail…yeesh.

I learned after reading the Wikipage that they only live about four years so he must have been three or three and a half. I’m guessing that Mouse sensed how old he was and assessed right away that he was no threat, and that’s why he was so calm about it.

DATE: Friday, 8.17
TO: Hawk Koch, president of the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts & Sciences
FROM: Jeffrey Wells, Hollywood Elsewhere
RE: Side by Side screening at the Academy

Hawk,

I’m writing to suggest something bold and out of the ordinary — i.e., for the Academy to hold a special screening of Keanu Reeves and Chris Kenneally‘s Side by Side, a Tribeca Films release that opens today at the Laemmle Noho and on VOD on 8.22. I’m asking you to approve this not as an “interested party” (I’m just a columnist) but because the film very simply but intelligently explains how and why the industry has changed over from film to digital, and it would benefit everybody to sink into this history and understand it as fully as possible.

The disappearance of celluloid and the dominance of digital is the most earth-shaking and to some extent traumatic change that Hollywood has undergone since the advent of sound, and it seems to me that the Academy membership, which by and large will almost certainly pay no attention to Side by Side because it has barely been promoted, would genuinely benefit by seeing it and taking stock of the knowledge it offers.

The Academy almost never shows indie-styled films, I realize. Every time I go to a special Academy screening it’s always for classics or for Oscar-season contenders, but mostly for looking-back contemplations. Side by Side is a different story because it’s not just about the relatively recent past (i.e., the last 14 or 15 years) but about right now and the future. It’s a major nuts-and-bolts lesson in how the industry is working right now.

Here’s how I explained things in a 7.28 review.

“As recently as 12 or 14 years ago digital was seen a joke that only the DOGMA guys and various no-account indie directors were working with. So we’ve all been witness to a major technological revolution, and it really needs to be fully pondered and studied from this and that angle. It’s too seismic and seminal to ignore.

“Side by Side is a highly intelligent sizing-up of the situation. It tells you what you know or have heard, but it’s a very soothing and stimulating thing to consider what’s happened over the last 14 or so years in one tight 99-minute presentation. It’s wonky, yes, but it’s cut and presented in such a way that even the most ADD-afflicted dilletante will be able to get into it, and yet it’s well-ordered and sophisticated enough to intrigue those who know all about this transition.

“I think it’s easily one the best made and most absorbing docs of the year.

“So I’m of the opinion that Side by Side is not only smart and fascinating, but very necessary to see here and now because every so often we all have to take stock of where we are and where we’ve been, and this is one of those occasions. In short it’s important — it goes over everything and reminds us where things were not so long ago, and where we are today and are likely to be in 10 or 20 or 50 years.

“Plus it assembles all of the leading and necessary hotshots in a single room, so to speak — interviewer Keanu Reeves plus Chris Nolan (a non-fan of digital), David Fincher, George Lucas, Steven Soderbergh, James Cameron, David Lynch, Martin Scorsese, Richard Linklater, Danny Boyle and dps Vilmos Zsigmond, Wally Pfister (who hates digital), Reed Morano, Michael Chapman and digital pioneer Anthony Dod Mantle, who shot The Celebration, the first significant digital feature, as well as the digitally-captured, oscar-winning Slumdog Milllionaire.”

I realize that the Academy is very heavily booked in advance and it’s not simple to stage one of these screenings, but I truly think it’s important for everyone to see this, and I know that Tribeca Film hasn’t stepped up to the plate to suggest this but I feel compelled to.

Regards,

Jeffrey Wells
Hollywood Elsewhere

Side by Side director Chris Kenneally and I sat down yesterday at West Hollywood’s Le Pain Quotidien and kicked it around. The doc, easily one of the year ‘s best and arguably the most important in a historic, summing-up sense, opens today at Laemmle’s Noho and then on VOD on 8.22.

Side by Side director Chris Kenneally, whom I forgot to take a photo of during yesterday’s lunch.

Here‘s the mp3.

I first saw Side by Side last April, but I didn’t post my review unti 7.28. An exploration of how film has gradually given way to digital, it’s the visual-tech story of our moviegoing lives since the late-Clinton era until now. Anyone who wants to dig into the evolution of where we were and how we got to today has to wade into this thing.

Producer-interviewer Keanu Reeves and Kenneally got just about every major filmmaker around to talk to them (Chris Nolan, David Fincher, George Lucas, Steven Soderbergh, James Cameron, David Lynch, Martin Scorsese, Richard Linklater, Danny Boyle, etc.), but they didn’t get one of the biggest film hold-outs, Paul Thomas Anderson. This is a guy who’s devoutly into 70mm, and you know by the time his next film comes out he’s almost certainly going to have to shoot digital. I would have liked to have heard his thoughts.

They should have also spoken to Michael Mann, who was pretty much the first major director to go digital when he shot Collateral in ’04, and then Miami Vice in ’06 and Public Enemies in ’09. They did persuade Collateral dp Dion Beebe to sit down for the doc, so that’s something.

Director-screenwriter Larry Karaszewski‘s has delivered several “Trailers From Hell” riffs over the last year or so, and they’re always highly perceptive and engaging. Today he posted an especially good one on Alan Pakula‘s Rollover (’81). The film bombed when it opened on 12.11.81, but it sure seems prescient now.

Larry is too classy to mention this, but it happened 30 years ago so why not? I was treadmilling along as a journalist in Manhattan when Rollover was being shot there, and I remember talking to a very sharp, well-connected female journalist who had written a profile of costar Kris Kristofferson, and she said that he and Fonda had an affair during production.

It was strictly one of those “only during principal photography” deals that never crossed over into their off-set lives, she said, and so nobody (including Fonda’s then-husband Tom Hayden) was the wiser. Or gave a shit…whatever.

If the story is true, Karaszewski’s observation that Fonda and Kristofferson have “no chemistry” as romantic parners in the film is ironic. Maybe they were trying to hide the real-life current and overdid it?

Here’s the entire movie, by the way.

Here are Karaszewski riffs on John Frankenheimer‘s All Fall Down and Herbert Ross’s The Last of Sheila.

I was riding along last night with the radio on, and “Do You Know The Way To San Jose?” — the 1968 Burt Bachararch-Hal David pop tune that was sung most famously by Dionne Warwick — came on, and for some reason I started thinking about what the lyrics really say. Here’s what they say: “I fucking quit…this town is too tough for me…this place is full of souless, grasping hustlers, and I’m too spiritual and self-respecting to make it with these hounds.”

This spirited bouncy little tune is basically an anthem for losers. It’s the opposite, spiritually speaking, of the Alicia Keys song “Empire State of Mind” or the hopeful go-getter optimism of “New York, New York” as sung by Liza Minelli and Frank Sinatra.

“Do You Know The Way To San Jose?” is akin to that line in the Atlanta Rhythm Section‘s “I’m Not Gonna Let It Bother Me Tonight” that says “the rats keep winning the rat race.” Which is another way of saying “eff this noise and eff this scene…I’m going back to Bedford Falls where I have friends and loved ones.”

A song that is right between “Do You Know The Way to San Jose?” and “New York New York” is Peter Gabriel‘s “Don’t Give Up,” which was co-sung by Kate Bush.

“Fame and fortune is a magnet / It can pull you far away from home / With a dream in your heart you’re never alone / Dreams turn into dust and blow away / And there you are without a friend / You pack your car and ride away.”

I’ve heard these words spoken by many, many people in real life, and they were all saying the same thing, which is that they came to the big city with initial hopes and dreams, but they lacked the talent and the moxie (which is understood in some circles as “claw-your-way-to-the-top ambition”) and so they were packing it in and moving back to a smaller, less difficult pond. I was on the brink of this myself in the early days, but I grimmed up and doubled down and finally broke through.

The world is for the few.

The feedback from last night’s Chicago screening of Paul Thomas Anderson‘s The Master says four things: (1) it’s a serious and formidable 70mm banquet of a movie, (2) it’s definitely a head-scratcher, (3) you probably need to see it twice in order to figure it out, and (4) it’s probably not worth flying to another West Coast city (i.e., an option that I learned about yesterday) to catch The Master before the Toronto Film Festival. I’m very much looking forward to it, but I can wait.

It would appear (emphasis on that word) at this juncture that The Master‘s Oscar potential is more in the realm of Best Actor (Joaquin Phoenix), Best Supporting Actor (Phillip Seymour Hoffman, a.k.a. “Philly”), Best Supporting Actress (Amy Adams) and Best Cinematography (Mihai Malaimare Jr.) rather than Best Picture or Best Director.

I’m sorry but it sounds (emphasis on that word) like your typical 62 year-old white-guy Academy member is going to go “huh?” or, at best, “Hmmm.”

To go by tweets from last night’s Chicago screening of Paul Thomas Anderson‘s The Master, everyone was deeply impressed by the 70mm cinematography but almost no one could explain what it means or amounts to. Tweeter after tweeter wrote (and I’m paraphrasing) “I think I have to sleep on it” or “Uhhm, I need to see it again” or “this is precisely the kind of movie that defies instant analysis” and so on.

A tweeter named B.G. Loony, a.k.a. “TheMentalDefect,” wrote, “If you need me, I’ll be at sea mulling over The Master for the rest of the year.”

It’s obviously significant that Ignatiy Vishnevetsky, a major critic, tweeted a joke instead of an attempted summary of some kind. He called The Master “the greatest pants movie of our time,” adding that “you really need 70mm to appreciate all the trouser textures and high waists.” In film critic-ese, a comment like that translates as “what the fuck was that about?” He added that “it was definitely a movie” — another comment that says “I can’t make heads or tails out of this thing.”

Tim Horsburgh wrote that “if you know what is going on the head of any of the characters in The Master, then you are a better Thetan than I.”

A guy called DrNeptune declared that The Master is “one awesome, crazy mess of a movie.”

Screen Daily‘s Patrick McGavin attended and has written a mini-review for Movieline. What does it say that McGavin’s first three graphs are neutrally descriptive and that the first enthusiastic opinion he shares is about the cinematography?

“Running 137 minutes (without final credits), The Master traffics in the director’s trademark themes. The first third of the story appears highly indebted to Orson Welles‘s great and potent 1946 noir The Lady From Shanghai. It’s another of Anderson’s brittle and audacious portraits of wounded masculinity and sexual panic.

“Set in 1950, the story details the complicated emotional interaction of Freddie (Joaquin Phoenix), a hollow-eyed World War II veteran who casually insinuates himself into the inner-workings of Lancaster (Philip Seymour Hoffman), a huckster proselytizing for a new self-help religion that has been likened to Scientology.

“Like Mark Wahlberg‘s debased porn actor in Anderson’s Boogie Nights, Freddie constructs an elaborate alternative family from Lancaster’s entourage that results in much unintended conflict when some members of the insular and tight-knit group –especially Amy Adams, who plays Lancaster’s wife — consider him too willful, naive and insufficiently faithful to be a worthy apostle.

“Visually, the movie is a marvel of precise and lyrical imagery. One sustained single-take tracking shot follows a young woman as she models a fur jacket. In another vivid, sexually hallucinatory moment, Freddie imagines all the women surrounding Lancaster during a musical number naked. The 70mm image, with its saturated colors and solidity, casts its own spell. In the first of several tense encounters between the two men that functions as Lancaster’s inquisition of the tremulous Freddie, Anderson unflinchingly keeps the camera tight on their faces. The scene plays out in one long, unbroken take, and the effect is hypnotic.

“As with There Will Be Blood, Radiohead’s Jonny Greenwood provides a percussive score that’s even more astringent.

“The second half is less audacious and more problematic. The crowd’s reaction was excited though also muted, possibly as a result of fatigue since the closing credits didn’t roll until just before 1 a.m.. Given its complex — and dark — subject matter, The Master is likely to be championed by critics and specialized audiences and largely ignored by the larger public. But last night in Chicago, it ruled.”