JimBell Blog

Under discussion:

Gran Torino  (2008)

When Gran Torino (2008) ended, I knew I’d seen one of the best films of the year, and I soon began wondering why more people didn’t agree. Gradually, I realized that older folks liked it but younger folks were more critical. Gran Torino would have had a wider following if it had provided younger viewers with the background information older viewers possessed.

Let’s try. Over the last half century, what year were Americans in general most happy? (Yes, we have university professors who actually study this.) There is a great temptation to pick a recent year because as believers in progress we know that things are getting better and better—the new Blackberry is just out! But Americans were most happy in 1957, prime time for the protagonist Walt Kowalski (Clint Eastwood). This does not mean that everything was great, for, as Walt said, he’d had to go to Korea and kill. There was racism, particularly of whites against blacks, but people were hopeful it would end. When Little Rock, Arkansas, schools denied blacks entrance to schools, Republican President Eisenhower called in the army to enforce the desegregation law. There was a cold war with the Russians, but Americans knew beyond a doubt that theirs was the best way of life on the planet. The Russians launched Sputnik and caused America to question the quality of its school system, but Americans were confident they knew how to make the system better, and “structure of the discipline” courses started taking over the curriculum. In 1957, Betty Freidan surveyed other women who had graduated from Smith and found that if the wives and mothers had outside interests they were generally happy but if they focused relentlessly on being wives and mothers, they were disgruntled. Although Walt Kowalski’s prime was not an idyllic time, many people say it’s the best we’ve had, and we have to know something about it to appreciate its attraction and understand Walt.

Walt’s transformation from angry racist pig to dedicated friend of the Hmong neighbours is quite believable for a host of reasons. One: Walt is basically a fine man. This comes out when he bares his soul in confession, and the priest says, “Is that all!?” Two: While Walt is a racist, he is not as bad as he seems. It’s his way of talking. When Walt goes for a haircut, he and barber sling outrageous insults at each other because they are sort of buddies. In our era of political correctness, we can hardly imagine such a way of speaking. Three: the death of Walt’s wife opens Walt to the possibility of big changes. It reminds me of the university professor who went to India to confer with the Dalai Lama on scientific topics. An interviewer for a Buddhist journal asked the scientist what it was about the Dalai Lama that had such a big impact on him. He replied, not much. If you take someone who has recently retired from his life’s work and whose spouse has just died (or divorced), it doesn’t take very much influence to affect a huge change, such as going in with no interest in religion and coming out a Buddhist.

Four: Walt is lonely--wife dead, both son’s estranged, friends from the Ford plant long gone, and the old neighbourhood full of immigrants—so, if given half a chance, he is going to do something besides sit on the porch and drink Pabst Blue Label. Five: The opportunity presents itself when the charming teenager, Sue, from next door stands up to Walt and welcomes him, at the same time the Hmong in the neighbourhood shower Walt with gifts of flowers and food for his stand against the Hmong gang. Six: Walt slowly and reluctantly decides to mentor the Hmong boy from next door, Thao (Bee Vang). Although not a popular topic of conversation, research shows that a lot of men at or near the end of their career want to mentor someone up and coming. Walt has additional motivation because he wants badly to resurrect the old way of life. So he helps the kid get a construction job and develops the kid’s interest in mechanic’s tools—when we all know what is happening with the housing market and with the auto makers today. Seven: Because Walt’s biggest regret is the huge distance between him and his two sons, he wants to have another try at raising a young man. Walt still is not great at it, but good enough. Eight: Walt is coughing blood, needs every medical test under the sun, and is staring death in the face, so he wants to get serious, do something worthwhile, and not worry too much about the physical consequences.

For me, that is enough to understand where Walt is coming from and why he changes the way he does. Gran Torino is a good movie that packs a powerful punch.

Under discussion:

Man on Wire  (2008)

Man on Wire (2008) is probably the most highly regarded documentary of 2008. So you do not need me to tell you that it is good. So, while you watch Phillipe Petit prepare to walk between the World Trade Center towers on August 7, 1974, you might want to consider a few questions:

What is the most powerful moment in the movie? (I’d say: It’s not when he is on the wire; it’s when his friend and right-hand man says something “snapped” in their friendship.)

What do you think of the way Phillipe treats his girl friend? (I’d say: Shabby. As with so many driven people, Phillipe leaves people strewn in his wake.)

Could anyone else but the French have done this? (I’d say: I still call those little potato sticks French fries, not Liberty fries.)

Could a similar stunt have been pulled today? (I’d say: It was a kinder and gentler time, and it is good to be kinder, really, and it is good to gentler, really. I see—how many?—fighter planes strafing him off the wire in the name of—what is it?—national security.)

Would this documentary be as popular if it were not about the World Trade Center? (Nope.)

Is the theme of the movie right for you—the theme being that we must always dream big, follow that dream, and live on the edge to achieve it? (Not for me—but that doesn’t stop me appreciating an excellent story well told.)

Under discussion:

Vicky Cristina Barcelona  (2008)

Vicky Cristina Barcelona (2008) is such a poor movie that it demands we consider or reconsider whether a voice-over narration can ruin a movie. It pains me to have to say it—but obviously someone as knowledgeable as Woody Allen does not remember it—but whereas novels largely tell, movies largely show. It is the unique power of movies that they are not black squiggles on white paper but rather seemingly real characters speaking and moving, very much like real life. If writers and directors such as Allen want to destroy this crucial feature of film, they should have  good reason. There are a couple of  good reasons, but they don’t apply to Vicky Cristina Barcelona. One of the best reasons for a narrator is that film has difficulty showing us the internal thoughts of a character, and a narrator can supply them. For example, in a P. D. James detective mystery I watched last week, Inspector Dalgleish’s thoughts were sometimes voiced over the action, and this, albeit startling, helped me keep track of a very complex plot. But in VCB, the narration simply tells the story from what fiction theorists call an omniscient point of view.

Another reason to have a voice-over narration is for commentary on the action, whether that is satirical, critical, or whatever. This can manifest the director’s or writer’s opinion when the action is ambiguous. But in VCB, the narrator is simply a crutch to move the action along.

If film makers insist on going against commonsense and employing a voice to narrate the story, the narration should at least not duplicate the action. But in VCB, the narration is sometimes superfluous. When Cristina goes into Juan Antonio’s charming artist’s house with its paintings everywhere, the narrator tells us that Juan Antonio’s house was charming and that Cristina thrilled to the wild colours on all the canvases. You might say this gives us a glimpse into Cristina, but by this time in the movie we know she loves art of all kinds, motion pictures, photographs, even architecture. Again, when Juan Antonio gets a late night call from his suicidal wife, he rushes out of the house and into his car, and the narrator tells us “Juan Antonio hurried out in the dead of night.” What do normally intelligent, sensitive viewers feel confronted with this superfluous narration? Maybe they are insulted to be told a guy is hurrying out in the night when they see a guy hurrying out in the night. Maybe they are distanced from the emotion of the supposedly serious situation. Just when they should be sensing Juan Antonio’s panic and worrying about his relationship with Cristina whom he left behind in bed, a voice booms from above to tell us that Juan is rushing and that all the black we see on screen is night.

The narrator’s tone of voice further distances us from the movie. The tone is difficult to describe. It is patronizing, trying to make the story interesting for us. It is also disrespectful of the characters, sounding remote and untouched by any pain and confusion they are suffering.

Although this heavy-handed narration pretty much destroys the movie, there are a few good points if you can make it through the film. Penelope Cruz, as the unstable ex-wife, is excellent. Not coincidentally, she is one of the few characters who does not sound like Woody Allen. When Patricia Clarkson, for example, talks about her longing to break out of her respectable marriage, she sounds like we’ve heard Woody so many times before, but when Penelope Cruz loses her temper, she sounds like the character she is. To her credit, Rebecca Hall, one of my favourite actresses (Starters for 10; The Prestige), handles with aplomb the sort-of intellectual lines that Woody might normally deliver. That said, the characters in the movie are not particularly unique or interesting—except maybe Cristina: She did not know what she wanted, only what she did not want. This is a fascinating insight for me, and a cautionary note that there are immature people like her out there screwing up lives, including their own. Trying valiantly to pull this movie along is a peppy and interesting sound track, the highlight of the movie.