Tuesday, September 7, 2010
by John Lichman
Satoshi Kon died on a Tuesday and came back virally when Makiko Itoh translated a posthumous blog post from the Japanese anime filmmaker; retweets inevitably followed. The stream-of-consciousness missive ran through his fears and acceptance of the situation to the brutal send-off Itoh clarified: “So, he is essentially saying to the reader, ‘I have to go now, I’m leaving this world before you.’”
It’s always heartbreaking when we lose a great artist, but the 46-year-old’s online farewell was in line with his career: beating back death through the Internet’s celebration of his work (if you need documented proof of this acclaim, look no further than The Daily Notebook’s round-up). Simply put, Satoshi Kon’s themes and ideas teach us how to cope with his loss.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
by Vadim Rizov
Richard Poplak’s The Sheikh’s Batmobile, a very cool new book tracing how American pop culture has infiltrated the Muslim world, argues mass cultural product—rather than destroying the indigenous and increasingly rare—helps bring otherwise at-odds people together on a new plane of understanding, normalizing pluralistic values where that idea’s unheard of. Poplak writes of Afghanistani bodybuilders training under watchful Arnold Schwarzenegger cut-outs and United Arab Emirates oil millionaires with too much money paying for custom-made Batmobiles. The argument goes all kinds of places (it’s a compelling work of occasionally danger-baiting on-the-ground journalism) that raises an inadvertent point: Hollywood is very good at producing accidentally iconographic work, and very bad at taking account of the ways it affects people. They conquer mental space then don’t acknowledge that.
Acknowledgment doesn’t mean the simple act of references for their own sake, the more obscure the better (discussed by Noel Murray earlier this year), nor scenes of people watching/listening to cultural product, nor spoofs, pastiches and the kinds of obsessive Quentin Tarantino homages paying tribute to his misspent youth. What’s missing is the really fascinating stuff: what happens when a movie becomes appropriated and fetishized for reasons that couldn’t have possibly occurred to the originators, mutating way beyond original money-making intent.
As if there needed to be physical proof that he’s one of France’s most versatile actors today, Vincent Cassel (La Haine, Irreversible, Eastern Promises) won a César for playing the titular role in director—and fellow César winner—Jean-François Richet‘s two-part underworld epic Mesrine:
MESRINE: KILLER INSTINCT charts the outlaw odyssey of Jacques Mesrine (Vincent Cassel), the legendary French gangster of the ’60s and ’70s who came to be known as French Public Enemy No. 1 and The Man of a Thousand Faces. Infamous for his bravado and outrageously daring prison escapes, Mesrine carried out numerous robberies, kidnappings and murders in a criminal career that spanned continents until he was shot dead in 1979 by France’s notorious anti-gang unit. Thirty years after his death, his infamy lives on.
Mesrine was helped along the way by beautiful and equally reckless Jeanne Schneider (Cécile de France), a Bonnie to match his Clyde. Mesrine made up his own epic, between romanticism and cruelty, flamboyance and tragedy. Both a thriller and a biopic, KILLER INSTINCT explores the man behind the icon.
In MESRINE: PUBLIC ENEMY No. 1, the story continues Mesrine’s incredible life of crime while manipulating the media, the government and the police. He plans his last and greatest escape, hoping to leave France, and the character he has become, behind forever.
Before the film’s opening, I met up with Cassel to discuss why making the film was an endurance contest to be conquered, the most Bonnie & Clyde-like moment he’s ever had with his real-life wife Monica Bellucci, and which filmmaker he believes is “the closest we have to a modern Buñuel.”
To listen to the podcast, click here. (13:28)
Podcast Music
INTRO: Rim’k (feat. Lino): “L’instinct De Mort”
OUTRO: Marco Beltrani: “Jacques Mesrine”
[Mesrine: Killer Instinct is now playing in NYC and Los Angeles, and Mesrine: Public Enemy No. 1 opens on September 3. For more info, please visit the official website.]
Saturday, August 28, 2010
by Brian Darr
The Criterion Collection lives up to its name, having in the past twelve years released over five hundred DVDs and box sets, generally with the best available image and sound quality, lovingly lavish packaging and supplemental features, a body of product containing a large proportion of the most noteworthy films in world cinema history. However, for every Jean-Luc Godard or Akira Kurosawa whose filmography has been well-served by Criterion’s curatorial mission, there’s a whole cinematic realm in which the company falls short. Films directed by women are few and far between, as are films from Asian nations other than Japan. Nothing at all has been released from South America or Africa, unless one counts Europeans’ excursions there, such as Marcel Camus’ Black Orpheus and Gillo Pontocorvo’s The Battle of Algiers.
Surprisingly, the entire silent era, representing over three decades of moviemaking history, has yielded only a handful of dedicated Criterion DVD releases thus far: Nanook of the North, Passion of Joan of Arc, Haxan, Pandora’s Box, King of Kings, and now a box set collecting three of auteur Josef von Sternberg‘s few surviving silents: Underworld, The Last Command, and The Docks of New York. Setting aside the appearance of John Ford‘s early Bucking Broadway as an extra on the recent release of his Stagecoach, with this Von Sternberg set Criterion has just quadrupled its catalog of silent features made in Hollywood (previously, only DeMille‘s King of Kings fit in that category), a territory the company has largely ceded to other imprints like Kino and Flicker Alley.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Former stuntman-turned-filmmaker Nash Edgerton makes his feature debut with his brother Joel (who co-wrote and stars) in the Australian thriller The Square:
A stylish, twist-filled film noir, THE SQUARE centers on an adulterous couple whose scheming leads to arson, blackmail and murder. Escaping the monotony of a loveless marriage, Raymond Yale becomes entangled in an affair with the beautiful and troubled Carla. Ray’s moral limits are tested when Carla presents him with the proceeds of her controlling husband’s latest crime. This is their chance: Take the money and run… If only it were that simple. The seed is planted and Ray, fearing he will lose his love, engineers the plan. Hiring the professional arsonist Billy becomes a fatal error, and the plan goes horribly wrong. Alarm bells sound and suspicions are raised but, miraculously, the dust looks to settle. After all… Nobody knows. Then the first blackmail note arrives.
As the film finally hits DVD shelves this week, GreenCine has a free copy to give away! There are two ways you can enter to win, social media style:
1. The Facebook Way
Join our official Facebook group. Then, write a pithy comment on our wall that includes the words “the square”—written as the hashtag #TheSquare—in a sentence. For example, “I prefer to put my round pegs in #TheSquare hole,” or “Jim J. Bullock for the block? Circle gets #TheSquare.” Our favorite sentence wins the DVD. Only one Facebook entry is allowed per person, and must be posted by Monday, August 30.
2. The Twitter Way
Follow us on Twitter. Again, including the hashtag #TheSquare, write an even pithier comment that incorporates that hashtag in your sentence, i.e. “I’m telling you, Huey Lewis’ song is not called ‘Hip to Be #TheSquare,’ you fool.” You don’t need to write @GreenCine since we can track the hashtag, but you must be following us to be eligible. You may enter via Twitter as many times as you like, but the winning sentence must be tweeted by Monday, August 30.
The winner will be mailed a DVD on August 31. Good luck!
by Vadim Rizov
As summer ends with
The Expendables effectively rendering the competition (sorry) expendable, it’s worth eulogizing, just briefly, the much-derided Worst Summer Ever. With a slate of rehashes, sequels, 3D quickies and some outright fiascos, little was expected from the season where Americans of all ages, locations and proclivities convene to watch especially expensive things converge and explode, loudly. The big movies that actually generated some excitement were
Iron Man 2 (assuming you really, really like Robert Downey Jr.),
Toy Story 3,
Inception and
The Expendables. (If demographically appropriate, add
Twilight: Eclipse.) As for everything else, it’s doubtful that people will really remember
Shrek Forever After existing, or spend future years reminiscing over the rebooted
Karate Kid.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
by Vadim Rizov
Screen comics tend to have shorter and shorter life cycles, as their one schtick gets overexposed, leading to their quick relegation to supporting parts and, eventually, the scaly world of direct-to-video. Thus went Chevy Chase (decried as lazy and contemptuous of his audience), Pauly Shore (no need to recap the obvious) and now Michael Cera, whose commercial and critical track records are flatlining. Ever since Superbad, his career has consisted of movies practically calculated to irritate people who think “hipster” is the most insulting pejorative ever (Juno, Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist, Youth in Revolt, Paper Heart and now Scott Pilgrim vs. the World), lest we also forget the whole Year One fiasco. The animosity he arouses in critics—or at least bloggers—is remarkable, and terribly misguided.
“Michael Cera annoying” is its own Google auto-complete entry. Negative reviews of Scott Pilgrim have decried Cera’s “singular note of tiresome twee-ness,” which is a concise way of synopsizing the charges. 
What anti-Cera haters decry is his (presumable) lack of range and his tendency to (for lack of a better term) play man-boys. So, apparently, we’re not only drowning in a culture of men who play cute to avoid responsibility (John Krasinski gets accused of this all the time), but his routine is tiresome and sub-adult. That raises a few questions: is Cera’s range that narrow, is he really that un-self-aware, and is what he’s good at worth doing?
If filmgoers on these shores don’t recognize actor-filmmaker Aamir Khan (producer and star of the Oscar-nominated Lagaan) as something akin to “the Tom Cruise of India,” it’s because the Indian film industry is so prolific that it’s hard to keep up unless you’re a bona fide Bollywood nut. For first-time filmmaker Anusha Rizvi’s Peepli Live, Khan wears his producer’s hat to bring this bittersweet satire to theaters around the globe:
On the eve of national elections in the Indian village of Peepli, two poor farmers, Natha (Omkar Das Maikpuri) and Budhia (Rahubir Yadav), face losing their land over an unpaid government loan. Desperate, they seek help from an apathetic local politician, who suggests they commit suicide to benefit from a government program that aids the families of indebted deceased farmers. When a journalist overhears Budhia urge Natha to “do what needs to be done” for the sake of their families, a media frenzy ignites around whether or not Natha will commit suicide.
For a superstar entertainer who rolls with an entourage and bodyguards, Khan proved to be a rather engaged and humble man in our sit-down interview. We discussed the farmer suicide epidemic, the ridiculousness of real life versus satire, the stigma of an “A” rating, and why he hasn’t yet sought any Hollywood projects.
To listen to the podcast, click here.
Podcast Music
INTRO: Indian Ocean: “Des Mera” (from Peepli Live)
OUTRO: Anudhara Sriram: “Lagaan… Once Upon a Time in India”
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Just because filmmaker Terry Zwigoff has collaborated with graphic novelist Daniel Clowes twice (Ghost World, Art School Confidential) and is best known for his eccentric and tragicomic doc portrait of an underground artist (Crumb), he doesn’t want you to think his entire career is ink and panels. This week, the Criterion Collection has released a special edition DVD and Blu-ray of Crumb, and even more excitingly, they’ve given their canonizing treatment to Zwigoff’s amazing 1985 feature debut, Louie Bluie:
Crumb director Terry Zwigoff’s first film is a true treat: a documentary about the obscure country-blues musician and idiosyncratic visual artist Howard “Louie Bluie” Armstrong, member of the last known black string band in America. As beguiling a raconteur as he is a performer, Louie makes for a wildly entertaining movie subject, and Zwigoff honors him with an unsentimental but endlessly affectionate tribute. Full of infectious music and comedy, Louie Bluie is a humane evocation of the kind of pop-cultural marginalia that Zwigoff would continue to excavate in the coming years.
In honor of Criterion’s must-see new discs, I called Zwigoff in San Francisco to discuss his accidental stumble into filmmaking, awkward running times, strange coincidences, why a man who doesn’t like commentary tracks recorded two of them for one project, and—as mentioned above—why he shouldn’t be pigeonholed… or should he?
To listen to the podcast, click here. (21:17)
Podcast Music
INTRO: Louie Bluie: “State Street Rag”
OUTRO: David Boeddinghaus: “Ragtime Nightingale”
by Vadim Rizov
When permanent technological changes are predicted to rev from 0 to 60mph in the next five years, it’s best not to hold your breath. With digital projection, things haven’t just progressed but apexed in record time. In 2005, early adopter theaters would tout their brand-new digital projectors as a special attraction. Now, seeing a movie in 35mm in Manhattan—if you want to be a super-purist—requires considerable cunning and advance planning for mainstream films, and may not even be possible. (That goes double for 3D movies: if you don’t want to pay extra and want to watch the flat version, you had better act fast.) The rest of the country hasn’t quite upgraded yet (and the arthouses are even slower), but just wait: the digital revolution, after years of excitable hype, is finally on the ground, with 16,000 screens worldwide (15% and counting, but far more noticeable in metropolitan areas).
For the most part, this is a welcome development since technological process—for once—hasn’t been a bummer fraught with complications. This is the first year digital projection has not just been up to speed, but ahead of the game. If, for example, you were interested in seeing
Sherlock Holmes,
The Informant! or any other digitally-shot movie released in 2009 by Warner Bros., you’d have been well-advised to make sure your theater was projecting it digitally: their 35mm prints, for whatever reason, have been prone to undesired artifacts (the glossily shot
Sherlock Holmes became overly dark and muddy, while
The Informant! lapsed into unfortunate video blotchiness). In these cases, film was an active downgrade.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
by Vadim Rizov
To considerable Internet excitement, cues from Daft Punk’s soundtrack to the forthcoming Tron: Legacy were finally unveiled last week for public inspection. [UPDATE: fake leaks?] Out of context, they didn’t necessarily add up to much: it’s not quite the Hans Zimmer Inception drone that has had people geeking out for weeks, but the rising minimalistic motifs—cut off and restarted just as they’re reaching maximal tension, perpetually delaying payoff—confirmed the musical future is way simpler than it was nearly 30 years ago. The cues don’t really “work” without context, although if you turn them up loud enough, even the simple act of making coffee can seem immortally heroic. Despite their vague reserve, they’re totally melodic, a regression from Wendy Carlos‘ analog-cum-digital score in 1982′s Tron.
The original film’s a blast for the nostalgically inclined, but the Jungian symbolism’s a bore, the visuals wonky (colors were rotoscoped after-the-fact) and the whole thing’s more a time capsule than watchable entertainment. The music is fantastic, however, arguably the culmination of Wendy (formerly Walter) Carlos’ most intensely productive period. From 1968-82, she basically invented one version of how the future might sound, traveling 400 years through one instrument. 1968′s Switched-On Bach translated (yes!) Bach to the Moog synthesizer and quickly went platinum. For the next 15 years, Carlos would arguably be the highest-profile Moog exponent (not exactly a high-competition position), elevating its status further in public consciousness more than her mentor Vladimir Ussachevsky.
by Vadim Rizov
In 1962, Don Draper went to see La Notte and loved it. He’s up on his cinema, and that’s no surprise. When someone asked if he’d seen The Bridge on the River Kwai, he responded, “I’ve seen everything, and I have the ticket stubs to prove it.” Not that Don could assimilate Antonioni into advertising that quickly. He’s much more likely to use Bye Bye Birdie as a starting point for his work; foreign innovations are, for now (the show’s up to 1964), just that. As Kieron Clark pointed out, “Advertising then did exactly as it does now: it co-opted, re-used and ripped-off cinematic culture, both high and low. As both Don Draper and Matthew Weiner know only too well, the Mad Men of Madison Avenue ignore the movies at their peril.” Right now, Don’s viewing choices may not have much to do with his work. Soon, they may have to if he wants to survive the ’60s gracefully.
Style-wise, the show’s oft-muted colors make the ’60s seem more modern than a meticulous recreation: its influences are ahead of the chronological period, even as the characters fight to keep pace with the ’60s. As James Wolcott notes, Don’s living in “Gordon Willis dark” rooms “without Godfather justification,” a man out of time in a way that’s not fashionable yet. Maybe not quite The Godfather— although Draper brooding in the dark in the fourth season’s premiere episode isn’t far off either—but visually, Don’s ahead of the times, meanwhile struggling to keep up with them.
Think of this as an addendum to our podcast recorded during last year’s New York Film Festival, in which Armond White, Andrew Grant and myself (along with party crasher Sylvia Miles) debated Welcome to the Dollhouse and Palindromes auteur Todd Solondz‘s newly released Life During Wartime:
Part sequel, part variation on his acclaimed and controversial Happiness, the newest film from celebrated director Todd Solondz assembles an amazing ensemble cast including Allison Janney, Shirley Henderson, Paul Reubens, Michael Kenneth Williams, Ally Sheedy, Charlotte Rampling, and Ciáran Hinds in an utterly hilarious exploration of the boundaries of forgiveness, family, and love.
Ten years have passed since shocking revelations shattered the world of the Jordan family, and now sisters Joy (Henderson), Trish (Janney), and Helen (Sheedy), each embroiled in their own unique dilemmas, struggle to find their place in an unpredictable and volatile world. The past now haunts their family both literally and otherwise, and jeopardizes the future. Alternately hilarious and tragic, outrageous and poignant, Life During Wartime is an audacious comedy with unexpected resonance.
I met up recently with Solondz at the SoHo Grand Hotel Lounge to discuss his thoughts on forgiveness, The Wire, the political undertones of his new film, being accused of misanthropy, and whether (as I once heard him say in 2002) he still disliked filmmaking as the medium for telling his stories.
To listen to the podcast, click here. (16:44)
Podcast Music
INTRO: Talking Heads: “Life During Wartime (Alt. Version)”
OUTRO: Daniel Rey: “Welcome to the Dollhouse”
[Life During Wartime is now playing in limited release and on demand. For more information, please visit the official site.]
The latest from Danish filmmaker
Nicolas Winding Refn (
Bronson,
The Pusher Trilogy) is the austere and brutal 12th-century epic
Valhalla Rising, what I
elsewhere called “a trippy nightmare of savage poetry burning slow across bleak and otherworldly landscapes.” These ain’t your daddy’s Vikings:
For years, the fearsome figure known only as One Eye (Mads Mikkelsen of Pusher, Flame & Citron and Casino Royale) has defeated everyone he’s encountered, but he’s treated more like an animal than a warrior. The only person he has any relationship with is the young boy who brings him food and water daily. Constantly caged and shackled, One Eye has drawn the attention of a new force now sweeping the countryside and displacing the society’s leaders: Christians.
Before the film’s premiere, Refn called from sunny California to discuss his “hallucinogenic drug” Valhalla Rising, how he made both this film and last year’s Bronson simultaneously, and why Mads Mikkelsen never gets invited to his birthday parties.
To listen to the podcast, click here. (11:32)
Podcast Music
INTRO: Led Zeppelin: “Immigrant Song”
OUTRO: Aritomo: “Voice of Only One Eye”
[Valhalla Rising premieres July 16 in limited release and on demand. For more information, please visit the official site.]
It might seem counterintuitive to craft a feature-length documentary around a viral clip concerning one man’s explicit outtakes during a 1989 industrial video production, but
Winnebago Man director, producer and cowriter Ben Steinbauer has truly made an entertaining portrait with a complicated range of emotions:
Jack Rebney is the most famous man you’ve never heard of—an RV salesman whose hilarious, foul-mouthed outbursts circulated underground on VHS tapes in the ’90s before turning into a full-blown Internet phenomenon in 2005. Today, the “Winnebago Man” has been seen by more than 20 million people worldwide, and is regarded as one of the first and funniest viral videos. Filmmaker Ben Steinbauer goes in search of Rebney—and finds him living alone on a mountain top, unaware of his fame. WINNEBAGO MAN is a laugh-out-loud look at viral culture and an unexpectedly poignant tale of one man’s response to unintended celebrity.
While in New York for the film’s premiere, I sat down with Steinbauer at the Ace Hotel to discuss the film’s themes, what can happen to analog recordings in the digital age, and who will play his subject in the inevitable Hollywood remake. As a bonus, the Winnebago Man team invited me to have a post-screening chat with the man himself, Jack Rebney. It seemed timely to discuss Mel Gibson’s recorded outbursts before allowing him his soapbox to address all you %#$@ers directly.
To listen to the podcast, click here. (21:21)
Podcast Music
INTRO: Dead Kennedys: “Winnebago Warrior”
OUTRO: Band of Horses: “The General Specific”
[Winnebago Man is now playing in New York, and will open in nearly 30 cities throughout the summer. For more information, please visit the official site.]
by Vadim Rizov
I’m in love with Lisbeth Salander. I’m unrepentantly coming out with this information, despite at least three reasons this is a stupid way to feel:
1.) Lisbeth Salander is a fictional character from the late Stieg Larsson’s Millennium Trilogy—a series of books I haven’t read (I struggled through 10 pages of an Amazon.com preview before giving up on them)—and two movies I’ve seen for work that I’d call absolute shit. Salander is a better character than either franchise deserves. Furthermore, I’m assuredly not in love with Noomi Rapace, who plays Lisbeth in the movies; she looks much cuter in character.
2.) As conceived, Salander isn’t even “my type,” nor is there anything really appealing about her personality. She’s a pretty good hacker, but aside from that suffers from Asperger’s, is prone to (as Liz Phair said) “fuck and run,” and doesn’t have a noticeable sense of humor. Her issues will keep a dedicated therapist in practice for decades, let alone any unlucky partner.
3.) Although some stone-cold shit is done to Salander, her violent retaliations would get an enthusiastic thumbs-up from the waifish sociopath from Audition. Just saying.
by Jeffrey M. Anderson
Lisa Cholodenko‘s well-received 1998 debut High Art was a major landmark for lesbian filmmaking in the ’90s, even if the writer-director makes films more to please herself than to fill any LGBT niches. After moving from New York to Los Angeles (where she shot 2002′s titularly set ensemble drama Laurel Canyon—which, coincidentally, was centered around straight people), dealing with distribution troubles and working in television (directing episodes of The L Word and the short-lived Push, Nevada), the 46 year-old auteur returns to the big screen with her finest and most widely released effort yet, The Kids Are All Right.
Julianne Moore and Annette Bening star as a lesbian couple raising two teenagers. It’s the final summer before their daughter (Mia Wasikowska) goes to college and her younger brother (Josh Hutcherson) wants to meet their sperm donor dad (Mark Ruffalo), creating more drama than anyone might’ve anticipated. (Life certainly imitates art: Cholodenko and her partner are raising a four year-old son, also helped by a sperm donor.) Working for the first time with co-writer Stuart Blumberg (The Girl Next Door), The Kids Are All Right is a superbly written, vivid character study with a genuinely erotic texture, a warmer and more humane summer movie amidst a slew of soulless blockbusters. While visiting San Francisco, Cholodenko sat down with me to discuss the film.