Geek Week has a list of their top 20 extended shots in movie history. It's hard to dispute any of these choices.
PT Anderson makes two appearances in the list. Here's the one from Boogie Nights...
Geek Week has a list of their top 20 extended shots in movie history. It's hard to dispute any of these choices.
PT Anderson makes two appearances in the list. Here's the one from Boogie Nights...
Posted at 09:50 AM in Paul Thomas Anderson | Permalink | Comments (0)
Quick -- what's the best film ever shot in my hometown of Houston, Texas? Sorry Terms Of Endearment fans, it's Wim Wenders' Paris, Texas. In fairness, however, it's one of the best films shot largely in Texas as it also features locations in deep West Texas.
Wenders recently received a stellar Criterion treatment for his other masterpiece Wings Of Desire, and now Paris, Texas arrives in the Collection with a similarly definitive DVD and Blu-ray treatment.
Criterion's Current blog has an excerpt from the book The Logic of Images where, for the record, Wenders declares: "Houston is one of my favorite cities in America."
Which probably makes him the first German film director to ever utter those words.
Rave reviews for Criterion's Paris, Texas below:
Posted at 08:49 PM in Criterion, Wim Wenders | Permalink | Comments (0)
One of my favorite novels from recent years has been adapted for the big screen and is in the dramatic competition at the Sundance Film Festival. Daniel Woodrell's Winter's Bone is yet another of his tales set in the backwoods of the Ozarks and should make a heckuva a great film.
IFC has a report here.
Posted at 09:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)
It's worth noting briefly that Steven Soderbergh's Che has just been released by Criterion this week on both DVD and Blu-ray. I'm really looking forward to it, though it'll probably be a few weeks before I get through the 4 1/2-hour films and some of the extras. It may be a case where the creation of the films is more fascinating than the films themselves, but I'm a pretty big Soderbergh fan and his work is always brilliant from a technical perspective.
Criterion has posted a few items on their blog, including this essay from Amy Taubin, excerpted (I believe) from the discs' booklet.
I also highly recommend this podcast episode of Filmspotting. Matty and Adam discuss the film, and Adam conducts a 30-minute interview with Soderbergh.
UPDATE: Well, I didn't quite finish Part 1 over the weekend, but I felt like I got a pretty good sense of the film. First off, the RED digital camera (which was a prototype at the time of shooting) has rendered some stunning images for Soderbergh. As is often the case, his exceptional work as DP on his own films pays off big time. The juxtaposition between the lush jungle greens and the NYC B&W makes for some of Soderbergh's most compelling visuals to date.
However. For those who claim that Soderbergh is too coldly detached from the subject matter to make it compelling, I can at least partially sympathize. Part 1 is quite interesting, but not terribly inspiring. I have no doubt that this was Soderbergh's intent, but I wonder whether a myth as powerful and divisive as Che Guevera can really be dispassionately dissected.
More after I watch Part 2...
Posted at 11:49 AM in Criterion, Steven Soderbergh | Permalink | Comments (0)
Well, I'm stuck in a hotel in North Carolina for the better part of this week (and next). I had high hopes for catching up on some movies via Netflix, but the hotel wi-fi leaves much to be desired and just isn't going to cut it for watching an entire movie (btw, Criterion has recently added quite a few titles to the "Watch Instantly" library on Netflix).
Anyway, what better time to ruminate on my recent Frederico Fellini double-header? Over the past two weeks, I've ventured into the universe of the Felliniesque, starting with the two most obvious titles, La Dolce Vita and 8 1/2 (the latter just being released on blu-ray on Criterion). I've also been browsing the web for critical analysis as to Fellini's lasting (though possibly fading) appeal.
La Dolce Vita is probably the less loved of the these back-to-back films, abandoning in large part Fellini's association with neorealism but not quite embracing the full-blown dreamscapes of 8 1/2. It is likely remembered by most critics as the dividing line between those two distinct phases of Fellini's career, both of which have their fans and detractors. La Dolce Vita documents the life of gossip columnist Marcello as he fraternizes among Rome's idly wealthy as well as the occasional starlet. If the film embraces a "dreamlike" quality, it is embodied mostly by the late-night and often surreal adventures that drive Marcello away from his girlfriend Emma and toward his inevitable downfall. Ironically, La Dolce Vita was banned in several countries, but my impression of the it ultimately was that it's pretty morally heavy-handed. Maybe it's the wisdom of my own creeping middle age, but there weren't many moments where I found myself admiring Marcello's "glamorous" lifestyle, and Fellini seems to me to have a pretty low opinion of Marcello (though he is charmingly portrayed by Marcello Mastroianni).
Marcello occasionally flirts with a higher road, prodded by his good friend Steiner, who seemingly has the domestic fulfillment that Emma so desperately wishes for herself and Marcello. Steiner also encourages him to work on his novel and abandon his bottom-feeding job. A tragic turn forces Marcello to face both his illusion of Steiner's perfect life and the harsh reality of his own career choice, and it is those final blows that doom Marcello once and for all to a life of shallow, soul-sucking misery.
If it all sounds like a bit of a downer, I guess it is. Though Marcello fancies himself as being one step removed from his rich, decadent subjects, he is time and again humiliated and ridiculed for the association (it's pretty clear that Fellini regards them with equal disdain). When Marcello is forced to see himself in the drunken behavior of his visiting father, I anticipated a turning point that really never arrived. Maybe that was Fellini's point -- that a hollow existence eventually becomes a downward spiral that can't be reversed after a certain point. Marcello faces his fate, and rather than turn away from it (in the conventional modern Hollywood way), he ultimately embraces that fate completely. Perhaps the closing scene is intended to soften the blow by implying that it's never too late to turn back, even if we can't see it clearly.
For all of La Dolce Vita's iconic imagery and characters, I can't say I really enjoyed it. I will definitely watch it again to see how my analysis holds up, but I'm more interested in comparing it to Fellini's other work.
Which brings us to 8 1/2. Often cited as one of the greatest films about filmmaking, 8 1/2 is much better film than that narrow description implies (and much better in my book than La Dolce Vita). There's probably not a single review ever written that fails to mention the context surrounding the creation of 8 1/2. It goes something like this: under the pressure to follow-up his successful film La Dolce Vita, Frederico Fellini struggles to find a story to tell, even as he gathers a cast and crew and even has sets constructed for the untitled - and unwritten - movie. Wanting to tell the story a man who is "blocked," Fellini realizes that his struggle to realize his next film ought to become the basis for the film itself. When pressured to cough up a title for it, he even resorted to the self-referential 8 1/2, as this would technically be his eight-and-a-halfth movie (he co-directed a previous film).
Thus, 8 1/2 is widely considered one of the first films to so blatantly draw upon the life of its director. Fellini would later warn against taking the film too literally, but there's no doubt how much of the director is to be found in the fictional director Guido Anselmi. On paper, the plot, such as it is, seems pretty thin. Like La Dolce Vita, the plot is rather beside the point; the cast of characters who inhabit Guido's worlds (both real and internalized) who are the main attraction, and Guido's struggle to reconcile their roles in his own life is the primary source of tension. It is when Guido realizes that all of them must be part of one grand tapestry that he finds his muse for his next film.
I was struck by several things in 8 1/2. First, for film that is widely considered the quintessential foreign arthouse flick, it's really quite accessible. Whereas La Dolce Vita is weighed down by excessive moralizing and a depressing conclusion, Fellini seems much better equipped to accept the inherent messiness and ambiguity of life. Obviously, he sympathizes with Guido much more than Vita's Marcello, despite the fact that they suffer some of the same aimlessness. Leaving the autobiographical aspects aside, 8 1/2 feels like the work of a director who has genuinely grappled with his own vision and is all the more sympathetic and mature as a result.
What I most enjoyed about 8 1/2 is the way in which Guido struggles to reconcile the female relationships in his life. Much has been made about Fellini's audacity in casting his own mistress Sandra Milo in the role of, yes, Guido's mistress (though this may be more myth than fact as their romance probably started during the shooting of 8 1/2). Guido spends most of the "dreamlike" sequences in the film obsessing over how the women in his life - wives, mistresses, actresses, even strangers - fit into his view of himself. Though it's an admittedly narcissistic and male egocentric perspective, I found it romantic nonetheless (many women might understandably not share my opinion). Women play complicated roles in Guido's life, and he makes things intentionally more so complex by drawing them closer to his orbit. For instance, he invites his wife Luisa to visit him despite the fact htat his mistress Carla is already visiting him. The invitation appears genuine and heartfelt (albeit ill-advised and selfish), in that Guido seems to need the attention of both women. It's clear that he still loves Luisa even though they have drifted into largely separate lives. In Carla, he sees something of his younger self, before the uncertainty of middle age set in. She is a relatively simple creature, lacking the complications that an older woman - and 15 years of marriage - inevitably bring. Woven into his vision of womanhood are the memories of his mother, childhood nannies, actresses, a large rump-shaking whore, Luisa's good friend Rosella, and most tellingly, Claudia Cardinale as his pure vision of Ideal Woman. None of these women (or visions of them) are individually able to spark Guido's film to life. Only after he sees them as part of a larger picture does he finally discover the inspiration for his movie.
I probably won't do myself any favors at home by admitting that I see a lot of truth in Guido's view of women, even if his behavior toward them isn't always praiseworthy.
And, of course, there is Fellini's use of dream imagery, which frequently intertwines with the "real" scenes. It's some measure of the film's influence to note that the technique has become such a staple of films ("arty" films, in particular) that the sequences in 8 1/2 seem rather conventional by comparison. In 1963, many audiences were puzzled by them, but the sequences tend to be rather cleanly delineated and give a fairly clear insight into the mind of Guido. Many critics also cite numerous metaphors for Guido's impotence, both artistic and sexual, but these are more subtle than, say, Guido fantasizing about a harem of all of the women he's loved or desired. He keeps them in line with a whip - just in case subtle isn't your thing.
I'm sure it's quite obvious that I'm pretty smitten with 8 1/2, far more so than with La Dolce Vita. There's a school of Fellini fans who swear by his neorealist La Strada (which I've not seen), but I'm sure I'll find other Fellini films hard to top 8 1/2. It is certainly the most quintessential of Fellini's films, the very definition of the popular term "Felliniesque." It would be easy to hold 8 1/2 against Fellini, if only because it gave many other directors license to put themselves at the center of their own work. Such an approach would normally be the death of art, but the magic of 8 1/2 is that Frederico Fellini turned a basically horrible premise and turned it into something enduring and magical.
(La Dolce Vita is available from Koch/Lorber in a really excellent deluxe DVD edition. 8 1/2 is available from Criterion on DVD and in a just-released and utterly gorgeous blu-ray edition. The extras on both sets are top-notch.)
Additional reading:
Posted at 10:44 PM in Criterion, Fellini | Permalink | Comments (0)
One of my favorite films is coming to the Criterion Collection in April, along with a couple of other awesome blu-ray titles.
First, let's assume that perhaps you are not familiar with the Criterion Collection. I'm not sure when I became aware of Criterion, but it's been a while. The company specializes in restoring classic, cult and largely forgotten films, and its origins date back to the laserdisc era. A quick count of my personal collection reveals about 59 titles, or "spines," as Criterion geeks would put it (Criterion numbers each title sequentially and prints the number on the disc case's spine).
The Collection includes titles by Kurosawa, Fellini, Godard, Truffaut, among many other directors. These names originally formed the backbone of their catalog. Of course, over the course of time, it has expanded to include many lesser-known directors and titles. A deal with IFC films last year has led to the release of several new arthouse titles (Gomorrah, A Christmas Tale), creating some controversy among fans whether these titles have any place sitting alongside such titles as Breathless, 8 1/2 or The Seventh Seal. Notoriously, many years ago Michael Bay's Armageddon inexplicably was added to the Collection. More recently, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button was released under the Criterion banner, prompting howls of derision. If you want to see just how deeply these debates rage among the faithful, I'll refer you to the Criterion Forum message boards (I'm a lurker but not a poster).
Ang Lee's Ride With The Devil will be released on Criterion on April 27, and that film has about as much respect on the Forum as Armageddon. Understandably, there is some skepticism about anything starring Tobey "Spiderman" Maguire and Jewel (yes, THAT Jewel) Kilcher. I read some comments a while back calling this release another commercial sellout, which is a bit of joke since I doubt many filmgoers have even seen this Civil War drama. I recall that upon its release, it played a single theater in Houston for exactly one week, and I was one of about three people in the theater. This title has more to do with Ang Lee (making his second Criterion appearance after The Ice Storm) and probably also with screenwriter/producer James Schamus, who I believe now runs Focus Features and is a fan of the Criterion Collection. And actor Jeffrey Wright is simply amazing in the film.
Anyway, I've written my critique of Ride With The Devil elsewhere, and I realize that a rather serious period drama is not up the alley of the average Ozu fan (though Kurosawa fans might want to give it a look). Though the extras are a bit skimpy for this edition, I'll take 13 minutes of restored footage, two commentaries and a audio/visual upgrade any day.
Also due for release on blu-ray in April are the extremely well-received 2009 release Summer Hours, which was Reverse Shot's #1 film of 2009 and even landed on their Best of the Decade list. Jean-Luc Godard's Vivre Sa Vie rounds out a spectacular month of releases. I've not seen it, but I'm a pretty dedicated fan of Godard on Criterion.
As far as I'm concerned, April will be one of best Criterion months since, well, this month, which has seen the release of Fellini's 8 1/2 on blu-ray, followed by Steven Soderbergh's Che next week and Wim Wenders' Paris, Texas on January 26.
(Interview with novelist Daniel Woodrell, author of Woe To Live On from which Ride With The Devil was very faithfully adapted.)
Posted at 10:14 AM in Criterion | Permalink | Comments (0)
Just what the world needs - another blog.
You may have found your way here from one my other blogs, Houston Ramblings or my Joe Henry blog, or from somewhere else entirely. In any case, thanks for stopping by.
A little background... After six years of blogging about music, I find myself wanting to explore a new area. Music has become highly segmented, and worse yet, I feel like my own tastes have increasingly rigid. Not that I mind -- it's simply the byproduct of spending most of my life as a pretty serious music hound. I still regard myself as such, but there's a certain preaching-to-the-choir quality to my blogging over the past year that really leaves me with little else to say generally.
Film is what's been occupying my attention lately. A move to hi-def this past fall ('bout time, I guess) has me revisiting my favorite movies with renewed vigor, and I find that I spend more time mulling over films in my mind than I generally have with music recently. The thing I enjoy most about studying cinema is I just feel there's so much more to explore than I've found in music for a while. That being said, it's not my ambition to present myself as a film critic, even in any small way. I look at film as a subject that still holds a great deal of mystery for me, and if I'm going to spend time writing about something, it might as well be something that I haven't entirely worked out for myself.
But I should acknowledge some pretty significant biases on my part. Here's a short list:
I'll warn you also that I rarely head to the movie theater to see current releases. There's plenty in my video library and Netflix queue to keep me busy. I've spent enough time in empty theaters to appreciate watching a good movie by myself. My wife's tastes overlap mine on occasion, but she's generally happy to read a book while a watch something for the fourth or fifth time. She really loves Boogie Nights though, and that's plenty to keep the spark alive.
The target audience for this blog is pretty much me. I'm more interested in working out what draws me to certain films and directors than I am in checking the hottest indie flick. If you're looking for the broadest possible survey of the cinema universe, you probably won't find much here to interest you. But if you read something you like - or even better, something you completely disagree with - by all means, drop me a comment or an email. I do like a good debate.
BTW, if you are a reader of my other blogs, this isn't the end of those endeavors by any means. After all, the world is still full of people who've never heard of Joe Henry.
Posted at 07:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)