Smooth_J Blog

Under discussion:

Shrek  (2001)

The Spiderwick Chronicles  (2008)

The Spiderwick Chronicles rises above most family fare in that it boasts a truly interesting and provocative fantasy premise without taking itself too seriously.  Yes, there are the customary family issues that set the backdrop for almost every family box-office smash, but this film actually incorporates them into the meaning of the story as a whole.  The main character, Jared (played by the always remarkable Freddie Highmore), is much closer with his father who has recently separated from his stressed-out and seemingly depressed mother.  And, while most films of this type would take this story line to cliched heights of ridiculous magnitude, Jared's loyalty for his father is instead tested and stressed based on what is actually happening in the main plot of the story, not thrown in to exploit the emotions of the patriarchal audience.  And the sub-plot of Arthur Spiderwick (David Strathairn?  YES!) and his neglect for his daughter because of his obsessive research in the "fantastical world around him" seems in fact symbolic of any of the characters' neglect of the realities of the world and what they have to face as human beings.

And, looking at the film as compared to any other film, and not just in contrast with other family films, there is one very noticable high point that I found very interesting.  The villain, the first unloveable ogre put on the screen since the original Shrek, is not completely big and bad.  It is in actuality one of the most vulnerable creatures (including the humans) on the screen.  His undying fixation on getting the Field Guide (of the magical realm?) is an ultimate weakness, shown deliberately by the film-makers, most prominently during the final stand-off between him and Jared.  During this struggle, the ogre is both seemingly invincible yet strangely pathetic in his attempts, heightened by a clever cameo of Jared's father (it's predictable, but effective--watch the film and see what I mean).

And the ending, both incredibly ironic and abrubtly hilarious, just goes to show what's great about this movie: it can be very, very out there without being at all pretentious.  It is strictly fantasy, and not once does it try to be anything other than escapist fun.

Under discussion:

Reservoir Dogs  (1992)

Pulp Fiction  (1994)

Jackie Brown  (1997)

Jackie Brown is really an overall strange movie, not in subject matter but in style and content.  It's an obvious Tarantino movie, with the ghetto conversations about seemingly superfluous topics and the long, meandering narrative with plenty of plot-twists and episodes, some labeled on-screen as such.  It's really enjoyable despite its 2 1/2 hour run time, which actually seems to fly by without so much as a stutter in plotting.

This movie really made me realize just how great Tarantino is with story structure.  Even his critics can't say that the man has such a distinctive and confident poise behind the camera, and such a grasp on the intricacies of typical story structure.  He seems to be having so much fun with this movie, and effortlessly makes the story glide from plot-twist to plot-twist.  It would be so funny to see what a convoluted mess this movie may have been in the hands of most other directors--but Tarantino doesn't even let you think about how extensive the plot is, he just keeps it moving.

All of the players are outstanding, the stand-outs being Pam Grier as a seductive and powerful Jackie Brown and Robert Forster as the lonely and quietly tortured Max Cherry.  This is perhaps the best performance of the film, as he brings the coolness of a typical noir hero while hiding the sadness and longing behind his weathered eyes.  Samuel L. Jackson is the epitome of cool, as usual, and perfectly demonstrates his outstanding charisma even when the role almost seems to cool for its own good.  Even so, he's a very effective "baddie."  Robert DeNiro is gives a nicely understated performance as an ex-con and now stoner who has trouble remembering where his car is during a sting (in a very, very funny, very Tarantino scene).  Michael Keaton gives a convincing performance as an ATF agent trying to nail Samuel L. Jackson's character.

Something interesting I found about this film is how it mixed so many genres of movies while still having a distinctive Tarantino tone.  Though it's seemingly advertised as a blaxploitation homage, it is more distinctively neo-noir.  There are the very obvious blaxploitation elements, however, that keeps you from thinking that it is completely noir.  And, obviously, it is a gangster "sting" flick.  It is sort of fun to tweak conventions as to who would be the set hero of the film: Basic noir conventions would say that Max Cherry is the hero, being a weathered and collected old soul and trying to romance a mysterious and bad-ass woman.  However, you might also say that Jackie would be the noir hero, in that she's definitely the main character, and is just as weathered and calm as Max Cherry, and is always smoking a cigarette.  In terms of blaxploitation, Jackie is definitely the hero, with Samuel L. Jackson's Ordell being the trademark bad-guy.  It's interesting that Tarantino made Ordell such a main character in the actual film, since you know him as much as you know anyone else in the story, and he is quite obviously a villain.

All in all, this may be remembered as Tarantino's weakest film of the 90s, though it is still excellent.  His characteristic sequences are what make the film great, such as the scene in which Chris Tucker makes a cameo.  It is such a quietly hysterical scene, with its seemingly pointless discussion and debate of a random topic followed by a quick and brutal piece of gangsterdom.  It's Tarantino having fun with the style that he created in Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction, and it's really a blast to watch.

Under discussion:

Blue Velvet  (1986)

Dune  (1984)

The Elephant Man  (1980)

Eraserhead  (1977)

Pi  (1998)

The Straight Story  (1999)

Requiem for a Dream  (2000)

The Fountain  (2006)

I recently saw Eraserhead, after months of waiting for it come back into stock on Amazon.com, and I loved it.  It was, without a doubt, the strangest film I've ever seen, surpassing anything I've seen as of yet by far.  I watched it with my sister, and she was actually disturbed for several days after watching it and I felt really bad...especially since I found it so amazing.

Throughout the film, I kept thinking whether or not it was good that I saw the extremely similar Pi before I had seen Eraserhead.  Pi is a very obvious tribute to this movie in more ways than one, and in more ways than the extremely obvious black and white (15mm?) film and the general surreal, bizarre tones.  Both films are centered around a misfit, probably early 20s, disillusioned male in worlds and societies that neither of them can really even begin to understand.  They both live in small, secluded inner-city apartments with very sexy neighbors that they are obviously very attracted to but are too scared to pursue.  These are the basic similarities, but there are also some very strange (maybe not even intentional) tributes/similarities: Both films contain an electric drill to the head; in both, at some point, when a certain object is poked, a crescendo of sounds occurs until it is not being touched anymore; and both have a fascination of strange objects of paranoia, such as a computer screen and a disembodied brain (Pi), and a radiator and a mutant baby (Eraserhead).

The point of the matter is, these films are incredibly similar, yet extremely different at the same time.  Their respective auters, David Lynch and Darren Aronofsky, are both revolutionary film-makers.  Lynch is a legend, and Aronofsky is definitely soon to be one (especially after Requiem for a Dream, which is already considered a classic).  But, the strange thing about Pi and Eraserhead being so similar lays in the fact that their styles are so inexplicably different. 

Lynch's films are all slow-paced, brooding, dream-like odysseys into unknown psychological territory.  He explores the dark sides of human conciousness by making incredibly weird occurrences seem like commonplace in all of his films, and despicable and often annoying characters that seem demonic yet unreal at the same time; unreal, of course, being the operative term for any work that Lynch has ever done (with the exceptions apparently being The Straight Story and The Elephant Man).

Aronofsky, however, makes his films fast-paced, emotionally draining assaults on the senses.  Requiem was probably one of the saddest movies I have ever seen.  It is a complete and total downer, but it is not by any means slow; it pushes forward towards its devastating climax at a breakneck, non-stop pace, all the while shocking and assaulting the viewer with images and scenes both beautiful and disgusting.  Pi was just as fast paced; so much was crammed into the ninety-something minute runtime that you were left wanting so much more, for the film to go on forever.  The quick edits, the strange sounds and phenomena associated with taking drugs (also VERY apparent in Requiem), and the brutally catchy techno soundtrack all make the viewer on the edge of their seat, in an entranced adrenaline rush unlike anything else.  These same techniques are also used in the not-so-emotional (in fact, it's quite lifeless) The Fountain.  I really hope that was just a hiccup in Aronofsky's career...not that it was bad, I just feel it 4 years too late and 10 million dollars underdone.  (The story of his attempts to make the film are actually more upsetting than the film itself.)

Now, there's the issue in my theory that Lynch's films are also assaults on the senses, more "experience" films than anything else; that's true, but the styles of these two directors are so different that it's just sort of irrelevent to discuss.

Eraserhead and Pi were Lynch's and Aronofsky's (respectively) first feature films, which is an interesting comparison.  The most effective explanation for this is that both films were very possible to make on a shoe-string budget, and would not have even worked if too much money had been spent.  It would have given a too refined feel to the productions, instead of the achingly personal feel that they ended up with.  Both films almost feel as if the main character is in fact an incarnation of their directors, written to express their inner-anguish and apparent paranoias towards the world.

The final point I would like to make pertains to the directions both directors went in their careers.  At first glance, it seems like they took complete polar opposites in terms of film choices--however, after examining their filmographies, their choices are actually remarkably similar.  Both followed a critically acclaimed (or at least critically noticed) low-budget debut with an emotional film that garnered world-wide and popular attention (The Elephant Man for Lynch, and Requiem for Aronofsky).  Both films received Oscar nominations (Lynch's first directing nod) and other awards attention.  And then (this is the most noticable correlation) both made bigger-budget, high-brow, studio sci-fi films that divided audiences and critics.  Lynch made Dune, a classic wrong-move in his career, and he battled to get it made the way he wanted.  The studio cuts literally destroyed the film.  Aronofsky made The Fountain, which was also a commercial failure, and started its downfall years before with fights with the studio over budget and script issues. 

And then, this is where Aronofsky's career cuts off; he has several upcoming movies that I am not quite familiar with, but I'm hoping will be returns to form for him.  Lynch's next film after Dune certainly was--he went on to make Blue Velvet, which garnered him worldwide acclaim and yet another Oscar nomination (I have got to see that movie...).  Lynch went on to have a long, illustrious career, and is still making movies and being an overall weirdo to this day.  Hopefully, Aronofsky will take another page from Lynch's book and do the same.

And now back to a question that I find reoccurring on every movie site I go to:  Which is better, Pi or Eraserhead?  Personally, I connected more to Eraserhead's bizarre symbolism and dream-like tone.  However, I definitely found myself to be more enraptured overall by Pi's fast-paced, crank-like hallucinations.  Overall concensus?

Who cares? (Hah)