To Live (1994)

To Live is certainly an epic in the sense that it presents a story spanning decades (and filling well over two hours) with at least an eye toward major historical shifts in Chinese culture. Yet for all this scale, it is a fairly small, and fairly mundane story. It would certainly be wrong to say that nothing happens, indeed it is a rather turbulent life for Fugui (You Ge) and Jiazhen (Li Gong). But somehow the film presents all this on a fairly muted emotional spectrum that makes it feel less dramatic than it actually is.

When the film starts, Fugui is the son of a wealthy family but is quickly wasting away this status due to a gambling addiction that is also putting strain on his marriage. However, this destitution comes just in time for the arrival of the communists to take over. In this case, this large scale change in society ends up minimizing the upheaval in the lives of these individuals. In this way the film plays out this interaction of social change, fate and the dominant place of family. Arguably capitalism was the first cause of strife for this family but when the first major tragedy strikes, it is the result of Fugui’s commitment to at least appearing a diligent revolutionary. And while the policies of Mao led to the conditions that caused the second major tragedy in the film, there is a certain shade of greedy capitalism that plays in as well. In this way Fugui’s commitment to family and the varying political strategies he engages to protect them all take a back seat to fate.

This is kind of the problem with the film, the thing that makes it seem less dramatic. Fate just isn’t a very interesting reason for events to happen, being arbitrary and outside the control of our characters. As a commentary on Chinese history, this feels distinctly weak. Still, Zhang is a craftsman and the film is at least undeniably well made. What lifted the film a bit for me was the incorporation of shadow puppets and a sub-plot involving the value of that traditional method of storytelling. Whereas Hakuchi seems to write off the arts as interfering with human interaction, To Live warns against focusing only on the material concerns. Having seen a few other compelling works involving shadow puppets, this was enough for me.

3/5

Hakuchi (1999)

While Southland Tales has bee bandied about by way of comparison to Hakuchi, and in so much as I remember that film, it seems reasonable, what came to my mind was Jean-Pierre Jeunet. With some of the bleak and slightly quirky art direction of Jeunet’s early films, and more notably the oddball community of characters that Isawa (Tadanobu Asano) introduces to, this is clearly a world playing by slightly different rules.

Vaguely set in WWII but with more modern technologies, Isawa is seemingly a talented artist, able to read people, but stuck as a lackey for the production of state propaganda with a tyrannical boss and a prima donna star, he is constantly contemplating suicide. That is, until he meets the neighbor’s wife, Sayo (Miyako Koda), derided by others as an idiot (in the developmental disability sense) and it sparks something in him. Sayo has an engagingly enigmatic quality about her. Isawa is a character who is mostly mute, which makes the film drag at times as others tend to monologue with often overly important sounding phrasing. Sayo’s silence in response to Isawa’s silence would seem like a recipe for disaster but somehow these complement each other and compose the high points of the film, like a fascinating silent film.

Depending on the universality of the themes being targeted, satire is often something lost in translation. I may pick up on the broad targets (and they are super broad here) but not being of the culture or time being prodded, many of the fine points that are often key to satire’s success are lost on me. Beside this general barrier, there is another general problem I had with the film. The film’s title, translating to idiot, being used as a crude descriptor of cognitive abilities, is in keeping with the film’s broader crude nature. The TV star frequently calls the show’s producer a term that was translated to faggot in the subtitles, which naturally had me feeling similar to Tarantino’s casual reliance on the n-word.

There is a lot in this film that I didn’t get and that makes the film’s 150 minute runtime seem quite excessive. There are however plenty of elements within the film that captivated me. These are always difficult films to process because at this point it is a finished film, not a rough draft. If film were an iterative process, this could be cut and finessed into a stellar product. Instead, we are left with what we have and it is harder to endorse that. Curiously, the message that struck home most powerfully was the idea of the camera (or the screen) getting between people and living their life. Curious for a filmmaker to make a film that essentially bemoans the negative effect of his main instrument on social well-being but it does give you a moment’s pause to reflect on what you are missing out on in life, focused on the trivial.

2.5/5

Star Trek Into Darkness (2013)

The Enterprise’s new Loki containment system.

If there is an early trend for the 2013 summer blockbuster season, it is charisma. Iron Man 3 was a decent film that gets by in large part to the charisma of Robert Downey Jr. in the lead role and similarly, Star Trek Into Darkness is a strong but flawed film that gets by due to its own charismatic ensemble. One of the great achievements of the reboot of the Start Trek franchise was in the excellent cast that manages to embody enjoyable familiarities of the roles, each with a personalized touch.

Especially with J.J. Abrams constant insistence that this is a Star Trek made for people who don’t care about Star Trek, it is easy to only look at the surface of the film. It is beautiful to look at, showing clear craft in production. They find a way to boost the colors of almost every scene. Taking in a 3D presentation, this was almost a bit much. The action gets very intense at moments and it can be a physical test. Still, as 3D goes, this one annoyed me far less than most, not suffering from the typical cardboard cut-out effect. That said, it still didn’t add much.

The first of the thematic points of interest to this story was the interaction of Kirk (Chris Pine) and Spock (Zachary Quinto). Historically they have been perfect foils with Kirk bringing an instinctual intensity and fire, held in check by Spock’s logical iciness. Early on, this difference has them at odds and in trouble with the Federation. To handle the challenge that arises, they need to learn from each other. This is achieved both in subtle ways and, hilariously, in references to previous films but with a role reversal.

The second main thematic thrust involves the presumed villain, played by Benedict Cumberbatch (sans a Cumberstache). Historically, the Klingons were the primary enemy, a stand-in for the Soviet Union. Working some retro styling, the Klingons here are just an emerging and potential threat but may well still be the Soviet Union. This avoids feeling dated because the focus isn’t on the Cold War but the legacy of the Cold War in terms of the blowback from our meddling with various countries, using them as pawns in our broader engagement. I don’t want to go into too much detail, but there is an interesting moral ambiguity around the Federation and around Cumberbatch’s character. Much like the modern conflicts, it is possible for both sides to come off poorly, committed to hate. It is only the Enterprise and our charismatic crew that generally provide a steady moral compass.

The power of this higher minded philosophical theme, so in keeping with the Star Trek tradition, is ultimately a bit muddled but Abrams focus on high-pace action. It shows some of the disregard for random casualty that tends to irk me about the big action blockbusters, recalling scenes of terror without treating them with the appropriate weight and respect, instead exploiting them for the action set-piece. Also, even though Uhura (Zoe Saldana) and Carol (Alice Eve), each get moments to represent the capable female of this society, it still can get a bit boysy with jokes about Kirk’s womanizing ways permitting a leering glance or two from the camera. These are mild dampers on what is otherwise still a very fun ride, though for all the fun, and even with glimpses of emotional and thematic weight, Star Trek under Abrams still feels a bit hollow compared to many of the first series of ten.

4/5

Tegan and Sara: Get Along (2011)

A few months ago I declared the concert video Stop Making Sense not a film because it was merely a recording of a concert. Get Along is half performance and half a combination of concert banter, interview and general hanging out with the band, which moves it much more squarely into film territory. Still, this sort of film has limitations as a piece of art that is not often overcome. DiG, which I recently watched, or, from the realm of stand-up, Believe: The Eddie Izzard Story, are docs that focus on performers in way that brings a more cinematic depth. Get Along is more run of the mill as these things go but that doesn’t mean it is disappointing.

Obviously, one’s mileage in a film that is made up substantially of performance will depend on how much they like the performers. I happen to really dig Tegan and Sara (having seen them live once) so just having another chance to hear renditions of their songs is fine. Also, known for their banter, they have wit and charisma that makes the other parts of the film enjoyable to watch. Nothing here really rises to universal appeal but for the fans, simply getting stories about how Tegan and Sara got to this point and watching them on tour in India among other highlights is sufficient.

That the film, such that it is, is actually made up of three shorter documentaries does naturally make it a little less focused as a whole and leads to some repeats in song selection. Still, it serves its very specific purpose.

3/5

Open Range (2003)

I’ve been accused of reading too far into films before. On the one hand, I like films to be about things and this habit can make films better (even when they don’t intend the insights I find) or it can make films worse (when they fail to fully embrace the themes they never aspired to in the first place). At the heart of Open Range is a conflict between free range cattlemen Boss (Robert Duvall) and Charley (Kevin Costner) and the private ranching of Baxter (Michael Gambon). Whether justified or not, I read into this conflict an epic clash of economic ideologies.

The free range ethos that once ruled the West was a rather egalitarian one. The land belonged to no one and everyone and that allowed anyone who could scrape up some cattle to earn a livelihood. They might not make it rich but they’d put together enough that they might enjoy a whiskey in a saloon or an evening in the company of a prostitute on the chance they make it into town. It’s not much, but it’s a life.

Once the land could be owned, it necessarily played favorites and those were the ones with the money to buy up the land and it concentrated the earnings in those hands. What you’ve got is a concentration of wealth and power typical of capitalism (and feudalism for that matter) and Baxter is the cold, bottom-line focused type that isn’t concerned about those who get ground up in the gears of his machinery, in this case a metaphorical equivalent of the industrial revolution.

One thing about Open Range is that it is a very simple plot yet it is a reasonably long film at 140 minutes. Some of this is valuable, introducing us to the various individuals in the town where Baxter is exerting his force. We see how each is in varying ways kept down or intimidated. The introduction of a romantic sub-plot involving Sue Barlow (Annette Bening) adds stakes to the inevitable showdown. Still, the film does have the tendency to throw in sizable conversations that feel entirely unnecessary, putting into words what is already pretty obvious through the actions.

So is Open Range intentionally a populist, anti-corporate film that creatively uses that most American of genres, the Western, to convey its message? I don’t know, but in our present economic times, it certainly strikes a chord. That gives it enough, in spite its flaws, to rise above standard Western fare.

4/5

The Fly (1986)

I thought I had seen The Fly. I certainly remembered the arm wrestling scene. Yet beyond that scene and knowing the basic plot, it seemed very new to me. Often filed away under the horror label (though clearly sci-fi as well), the film is not so much scary as grotesque. This certainly counts as horrific but isn’t in keeping with the sense of peril that is typical of the genre.

Seth Brundle (Jeff Goldblum) has invented a teleportation system and can’t help but use it to impress the attractive journalist Veronica (Geena Davis). It is his feelings for her that ultimately push him to recklessly test it on himself and but for the presence of a little fly, it would have worked perfectly. Instead, we watch his decline.

This film could be a cautionary tale about scientific overreach (Jurassic Park is more focused in that respect), it could be a commentary on genetic engineering and the concept of genetic superiority. It even could double as a particularly gruesome commentary on the nature of reproduction and indeed, this is where it comes closes to depth. Still, it manages to be all and none of these, largely sacrificing any thematic coherence simply to revel in genre-film creature effects. As the film turned further in that direction, I became less invested in it. I suppose the film deserves credit for disgusting me, that’s just not what I really want out of a film.

The film has that vaguely B-movie vibe in its production quality as well. Aside from the creature effects, the filmmaking here is kind of rickety and surprisingly Goldblum and Davis come off as a bit stilted with the dialogue. It doesn’t really come off as a well crafted film but maybe I’m just judging the 80s too harshly as the film very much feels of its time. Still a lot to like for what it is but apparently nothing too memorable for me if I had in fact seen it before.

3/5

The Great Gatsby (2013)

The Party Will Never End

The style of Baz Lurhmann can take some getting used to. The first time I saw Moulin Rouge, I hated it. Now I consider it a favorite. Such was the hill it makes you climb. The Great Gatsby also asks a lot of the viewer with its visual and aural assault, but I’m not sure a return visit will pay off the same way it did with Moulin Rouge and that is, surprisingly, because of the underlying story.

It’s been half a life since I read Gatsby and I liked it a lot at the time. Since then, I’ve grown tired of Fitzgerald as a writer, focused as his stories are on the fabulously wealthy. Gatsby may be a story that condemns wealth more than his other stories but my fatigue with the company of these characters remains.

Gatsby is ultimately a sweeping romance tale and the drama feels a bit false. If half of what is said about and seen of Tom Buchanan (Joel Edgerton) and Jay Gatsby (Leonardo DiCaprio), Daisy (Carey Mulligan) has an easy decision in front of her. Instead, we have to watch the decision tortured and melodramatized over a bloated 140 minutes.

Of course, there is a more overwhelming stylistic problem. Narration is a reasonable literary device but it is much less tolerable as a cinematic choice and this film is sagging under the retelling by Nick Carraway (Tobey Maguire). Having this role carried out by Maguire makes it a little more grating, I’m not wild about his voice, but I think it would have been hard for anyone to pull off. I don’t fully blame Lurhmann for the film’s faults, I just seem to have moved past the point where this story works for me. Where once I felt an emotional connection to the characters, I now feel nothing. The claimed thematic connection between the 1920s of Gatsby’s world and the run-up to our current economic collapse feel entirely unimportant.

2/5