And The Sun's So Hot I Think I'll Catch Fire And Burn Up In The Summer Air So Moist And Sweet

Summer Hours (Assayas, 2009)

So I reckon I should get this out of the way right now, I have not yet seen the French film from last year that is apparently part of this series, The Flight of the Red Balloon. Actually, my exposure to French cinema, both modern and the New Wave movement, is rather limited. However, as of this writing the only other French film I have seen this year, The Class, currently sits as my sixth best film released in 2009, so I found myself fairly excited as I sat down and went into Olivier Assayas' latest film, Summer Hours. Focusing on the surviving family of some French artist, I don't really get into these details because I do not know a damn thing about paintings and sculptures and stuff like that, in about a 100 minute run time, Summer Hours explores different concepts about loss and memory, along with the economic extension of real world circumstances that are important to more affluent families. While I knew little of the film upon entering, the first scene at the estate is a stylistic bang that really cements what proves to be an incredibly visually striking film. The first fifteen minutes or so set up the film and the characters so wonderfully that I found myself mostly swept up in the world being presented.

Being swept up, as I have said, is probably caused by, in no small part, the beautiful cinematography and masterful direction. Assayas does not employ the traditional handheld camera style that would seem like the obvious choice for this type of film, but he also does not make extensive use of a traditional camera style either. At numerous times the scenes feel a little contained, but the idea that these decisions were anything but intentional seems insane simply because the film just looks so professionally constructed. Not to mention that, when using more traditional wide shots, the film looks beautiful. Maybe the way it is shot is supposed to mirror the audience's expectations that these people are supposed to be free because of their social status and money, but in actuality they are just as trapped as 'average' people, yet there is still a noticeable beauty in the human experience. Either way, the film is also anchored by performances that range from really good to great. The standouts are obviously Juliette Binoche and Charles Berling, with Berling really delivering a stellar performance, but all of the supporters are pretty damn fantastic. The younger actors who play the children are also mighty impressive. However, the true mastery is only shown for a very short time, in the form of Edith Scob. She brings an elegant grace and knowledge to her role, despite it mostly being contained to the first portion of the film.

On the whole, Summer Hours is a pretty interesting experience. The film is almost deceptively complex, touching on numerous themes despite presenting them in seemingly simple circumstances. The film is both broad and specific, taking a brush and painting a portrait of both beauty and melancholy, blending the best of emotions at any given time. I should also mention that the final three scenes in the film are some of the most effective of any film so far this year. I find pinpointing a single reason for their success rather difficult, but I almost believe that part of the intention is that nothing in the film is as simple as one would imagine. Summer Hours is a truly touching film that, even for someone with my disposition, works on both an emotional level and actually builds up my faith in the human condition, however minor that construction may seem.

A- or 4.1984892174238015472385320157

Comments are welcome and, for anyone with a literary mind, I encourage checking out my poetry blog filled with all original works for your reading pleasure.

Also I am on the old Twitter thing so I guess you can follow me at twitter.com/FLYmeatwad.

Take A Look At Eye Full Towers, Never Trust Them Dirty Liars

Paper Heart (Jasenovec, 2009)

In a year that has seen its fair share of incredible comedies and phenomenal documentaries, Paper Heart pulls both genres together, sits them in a room, and tells them to fight. In many ways this film is likely the physical result of the make up sex of that encounter. Featuring the infectiously endearing Charlene Yi as she travels across the globe in a quest to define love, Paper Heart sits somewhere between film and mockumentary with a noticeable grace. Now after seeing the film I am still not entirely sure what it should be classified as, the actual interviews seem to be genuine, but the film is clearly a fabrication. Regardless, the tactic is mighty interesting and plays with the notions that viewers have both of film and drama while adding to the questions about what is real and what is constructed when deal with the idea of love, so the film certainly succeeds in its assembly.

Speaking of constructed, the actors on display here are pretty fantastic. In many ways the only actor in the film is Jake Johnson as he plays the film's director, Nicholas Jasenovec, but I am fairly sure that each cast member in the film, that is the non interviewees, are all performing. Yi is spectacular, and she needs to be for the film to succeed at any level, but her real strength constantly seems to be her reluctance mixed with her curiosity. These traits keep the interviews compelling, but they also help build her character progressively throughout the film. Still, the obvious standout has to be Michael Cera. Cera plays an altered version of himself, seemingly embracing and challenging the notions of him always playing the same character, with tremendous humor and subtlety. Cera is mighty spectacular in the role, slightly reminiscent of his time on the Clark and Michael web series but also a good deal more refined. He does not play himself, Michael Cera plays the public perception of Michael Cera.

As for the technical aspects, the film is actually impressive as well. Designed to keep the viewer off guard, Paper Heart switches from overly documentary sequences, where the film grain is kicked up to enormous levels, to really beautiful and disciplined shots, like the walk through the forest between Yi and Johnson. However, the sequence that stands out would have to be the scenes in Paris. At the drop of a hat the film takes these entirely constructed sequences and switches the way they are presented almost instantaneously, which is even more impressive the more I look back on the film. However, the direction is not the only striking visual aspect showcased here. The film has numerous charming sequences where interviewees detail their own personal love stories while Yi animates the stories with hand crafted puppets. These scenes are some of the most visually striking of the film and are used to great effect. The film is also enhanced by the score, which is mighty top notch.

In many ways, Paper Heart is probably a comparable film to Bruno, and I would actually be interested in doing a follow up comparison of the two films so someone should make me do that in the near future, in the sense that both subvert a viewer's notions of what a docu/mockumentary should be and how the topics should be covered. Obviously, Paper Heart is more of a film than Bruno, and even more complex as I begin to write more and more about my short time, about an hour and a half, with the film, but they both share some downfalls as well. Not all of the interviews land and the laughs, though clearly there, are not as big as in a straight comedy. However, all of these minor problems are practically irrelevant when looking at the bigger picture. Paper Heart is a layered and complex film that does not only examine love, but examines the entire idea of fabricated realities. At first I was not entirely blown away by the film, but, as is the case with every great film, the more thought I allot to Paper Heart, the better the film appears.

A/A- or 4.389289472308147810234723104


Comments are welcome and, for anyone with a literary mind, I encourage checking out my poetry blog filled with all original works for your reading pleasure.

Also I am on the old Twitter thing so I guess you can follow me at twitter.com/FLYmeatwad.

There'll Always Be A Few Things, Maybe Several Things, That Your Gonna Find Really Difficult To Forgive

Princess Mononoke (Miyazaki, 1997)

Well, I suppose it is about time that I get to Miyazaki's crown gem, or what I assume is his crown gem considering that Spirited Away is not nearly that great. Going into Princess Mononoke I had only the film's reputation to go on as I did not know anything of the film's plot. Of course as I gazed down at my Netflix sleeve to see that the run time was listed as two hours and fourteen minutes I found myself pretty worried that this film was going to be a bit too long for its own good, after all, the best Miyazaki films are the shorter ones. Oh yes, I was also pretty sure that I heard this film dealt with some environmentalism crap, and since I have made it my mission in life to personally see my own carbon footprint before I die I was pretty sure that any overtly environmentally friendly themes would end up pissing me off. But hey, I'm an open minded kind of guy, so bring on the Mononoke!

The first striking characteristic the film possesses, well aside from the visual aesthetic, is found in the form of the story. Now I do not use the word story in the sense that the word refers to plot, but rather I mean to say in the way the story is told. In many ways Princess Mononoke is a fairy tale, not unlike classic Disney films that focus on Princesses, albeit with much more characterization, as it possesses all the whimsy of a magical world existing in a mostly realistic setting. The world is really well established. The story is simple enough that it feels like it is being told instead of watched, a characteristic that is captured perfectly in the film, but I do not think designating Mononoke as a simple fairy tale completely does the film justice. In many ways Princess Mononoke feels more like a myth, lore passed down from generation to generation and being refined through each progressive telling of the tale. Now I'm sure I got this feeling because of the film's context, it does take place in historical Japan, I think, so the fact that it feels like a myth rather than a fairy tale is expected. However, what I found particularly fascinating was how it felt so culturally specific yet works so well for an audience member who is not a part of this culture. I think part of Miyazaki's ability is to craft and play with this universal magic without sacrificing the Japanese element of the film. In short, the way the story is presented is pretty wonderful.

Of course that is not to say that the film is all whimsy and child friendly. The content is rather mature, limbs fly all over the place and blood plays a hefty part in Mononoke, but it is all handled so gracefully. And there is that little environmental aspect, but the film handles it more as a reverence that is nicely disguised to work with the time instead of being something that hits the viewer over the head. Plus the film does not take the whole 'all technology is terrible' route either, so I can definitely appreciate that given the way Miyazaki openly says that both sides can coexist peacefully. The film works as an allegory alright, but as a straight up film it works as well. The opening sequence is riveting and really all of the action sequences are high energy filled thrill rides. On top of that the film mostly nails all of the sombre moments as well, so I am mostly confident when I say that the run time, despite being a little lengthy, is not a detriment to the film at all, though I did need to take a break during the run time for what that is worth. Actually though it is refreshing to see an animated film willing to stretch out the run to over two hours, as most great animated films I generally want to see more of, so having Mononoke take on a lengthier feel, which also enhances the mythological epic feeling, was a wise choice.

Speaking of animated films, all the technical aspects on display here are top notch. From character animation to the way scenes are drawn, the film is a visual power house. Obviously the imagination in the fantastic characters is going to stand out, Miyazaki has a way with designing these larger creatures that oozes originality, but the real strength is the way that he designs the worlds. The forests, the mountains, and the towns all have a believable beauty to them, not to mention that the traditionally drawn animals are incredible. However, to enhance these creatures, the ones that actually speak are voiced with an insane intensity that makes for numerous great voicing performances. Now I watched the film with subtitles so really all I could go on was how the lines were delivered, but even with this I found myself mostly swept away with the characters. A lot of effort apparently went into the dub as well, so I watched a few scenes with the American voice cast and I can mostly say that the quality of the voice acting there is at least on the level of the Japanese voices. The film, all around, sounds spectacular. Mix that with a brilliant score and the film records high marks in terms of technical quality as well.

So by now it should be pretty obvious that I loved my time with Princess Mononoke. The film is mature, complex, and pretty much a master piece. It avoids the pitfalls that plague some of Miyazaki's lesser works like Spirited Away and Howl's Moving Castle, and I would have to say that it rivals My Neighbor Totoro and possibly even Porco Rosso as the best Miyazaki film that I have seen. Okay, well maybe not Porco Rosso, but I certainly love it as much as Totoro. Any minor problems that I found with Princess Mononoke have quickly been forgotten in one night's time and I am left remembering all of the breath taking positives. On the whole, the film seems to capture what is great about animation, both Eastern and Western, and I think for that alone Princess Mononoke deserves to be championed as an artistic accomplishment. Truly one of the best films ever made.

A+ or 4.83748324623954163596159

Comments are welcome and, for anyone with a literary mind, I encourage checking out my poetry blog filled with all original works for your reading pleasure.

Also I am on the old Twitter thing so I guess you can follow me at twitter.com/FLYmeatwad.

And You Say, "Oh My God Am I Here All Alone?"

Moon (Jones, 2009)

Let's cut the crap. I'm going to keep the references about Bowie and Ziggy Stardust limited in this review. Just getting that out of the way now. There will likely be one in the title because people will expect it and I'll give in slightly to those who think that obvious humor is good stuff. Hell, I can even appreciate the apparent things every so often, so why not draw attention to the fact that David Bowie's son is making a sci-fi film that takes place in outer space, right? It must run in the family, or rather fly in the family. Okay, enough of that shit, let's get down to looking at what is, for the purposes of this review, Duncan Jones's debut feature.

The plot, on the surface, seems fairly simplistic. Sam Bell, portrayed by the ever awesome Sam Rockwell, is working on the Moon for three years to harvest energy. He shares his base with GERTY, a machine apparently designed to assist him during his time on the base. Things start to go awry and the action begins picking up as the tangled web of the LUNAR company slowly begins to unwind during the film's rather lean 97 minute run time. I'll toss up a spoiler section towards the end where I go into more plot details and more of my thoughts about what specifically was so wonderfully handled by Mr. Jones's careful hands. Also, if it has not become at least slightly apparent, I am about to give this film a ton of praise and debate whether or not it can rival Adventureland and Lymelife for the current top spot on my list of Best Films of 2009.

So, speaking of mastery and careful craft, the film possesses an incredibly polished look throughout that really makes the entire film simply stunning to look at, whether it deal with cinematography, direction, or even art direction. The film is mostly minimalistic in terms of colors used, but the way everything blends together is simply wonderful and really makes for a visceral experience that, even if the plot and actors sucked, would mostly make the film worth watching at least once anyhow. From the opening credit sequence to the repeating shots of the harvest machines chugging along on the moon's surface to the simply stunning shot of Sam's rover toward the film's end, the way that Jones works the camera comes with all the mastery of a pastry chef in a bake off. I often found myself wondering if the direction was not as great as the cinematography or if I was just duped into thinking the direction was good because the film looked so good, but every time I started to think about that Jones would offer a shot that quelled my fears. I look forward, greatly, to whatever film Jones decides to tackle next.

I guess for those who are really ultra sensitive, spoilers begin HERE!


In fact, tackling is a pretty nice word to transition into my next paragraph. This film has a good deal of Rockwell on Rockwell action where Sam is tackling Sam and they start to fight. Sure this may sound comedic in nature, or simply ludicrous if a lesser actor had been given the material, but Rockwell provides a tour de force performance that immediately vaults to one of the best in recent memory. While the script allows for the range, Rockwell's ability to sell the performance and really establish the tension between his two selves is impressive and indicative of the man's talents. The real strength in the performance is found in Rockwell's ability to deliver emotion in a film that had mostly sacrificed it in the script in order to make sure the narrative continued and that the philosophical tension really took center stage. Actually, sacrificed is not the right word since the relationship between Sam and Tess is apparent all during the narrative, but rather it is used as a distraction from the film's apparent purpose, which is more philosophical.

The script relies on playing and manipulating expectations to draw more attention to the philosophical questions and the character study that is going on during the film, so the use of various red herrings is nearly always successful and adds another layer to the overall film instead of feeling cheap or gimmicky. The trailer begins to toy with certain cinematic expectations by portraying GERTY as a H.A.L type robot, and despite helping Sam throughout the film the robot's intentions are always under question, it requires the viewer to be attentive. Even the casting of Kevin Spacey, who gives a stellar performance that showcases, once again, his voice acting prowess, seems to make the viewer suspect that there may be something sinister at work in GERTY's system. Even as the mystery of the LUNAR company begins to become more apparent the film never spells things out yet always seems to provide answers, but also asks that the viewer look for the answers rather than be spoke at, as a film like Star Trek seemed more than willing to do numerous times during the film. An example is found in the decaying of Sam. The film continues to make it apparent why he is decaying, but I do not think the film ever comes out and says that he is decaying because it has been three years. Jones taps the viewer on the shoulder, he does not hit the viewer over the head, it is because of this the film is so successful.

Though perhaps not only because of this fact; the film also is incredibly approachable for a science fiction film and for a film that does get fairly existential at points. On the surface everything in the film is so simplistic, but if the viewer so desires the motivations and consequences of each action on and off the space station can not only be explored, but also found in the film through the subtleties that Jones has so carefully scattered throughout the film. I think that, eventually, the film runs too deep if one begins to try and unravel things too much there is a noticeable collapsing point, but the sheer care that has gone into making the script complex yet still so utterly accessible to any viewer makes up for that fact. The script really hits everything perfectly, and it even manages to blend humor in naturally rather than simply taking a break from the film's progression to inject purely comedic scenes. While it may be an odd aspect to wrap up with, the film's pacing is spectacular and ties things together beautifully.

The film is ambitious, intriguing, and near flawless. A fantastic journey about self discovery and a character study for the ages. Will Moon top my list? Currently, no, but as my rankings continue to shift it will continue to fight for the top spot. Let's toss genre's aside, Moon is not simply one of the best science fiction films ever made, Moon is one of the best films ever made.

A or 4.7742389048123758123750235213

Comments are welcome and, for anyone with a literary mind, I encourage checking out my poetry blog filled with all original works for your reading pleasure.

Also I am on the old Twitter thing so I guess you can follow me at twitter.com/FLYmeatwad.