Smooth_J

Under discussion:

Walker  (1987)

I noticed no one has said anything about this movie, so I figured I would be the first to say that it is a pretty good film.  It is all in all a commentary on the 1980s Nicaraguan conflict, exploiting the story of a forgotten American "hero" during the time of Manifest Destiny.  What it is really trying to say is that the idea of Manifest Destiny and ultra-patriotism still existed in the United States, especially during the 1970s-80s, when we just couldn't seem to keep our noses out of Central American affairs.  It succeeds on that level, but not too many others.

The acting is at times pretty corny...Ed Harris successfully portrays William Walker and his many undeveloped personality traits, but even he slips up at times as his performance slips into camp.  Peter Boyle makes a pretty funny cameo as millionaire Cornelius Vanderbilt, the man who funds Walker's campaign in Nicaragua and ultimately sets him up as dictator.

Some of the scenes are actually really cool, such a scene where Walker walks right down the middle of an apparent massacre in a village, telling his men to press on even though it seems all is lost.  A man asks him what he is doing, to which he replies, "The only thing I know how to do...advance."  A scene in which they burn the town of their dictatorships residence at the end is a little bit drawn out, with probably around 4-6 minutes of burning buildings and depravity of Walker's soldiers (called "Walker's Immortals").  It's one of many scenes that seems forced and just doesn't work...however, for each of these scenes, there is a few that do, which makes the movie an overall accomplishment.

The film's infamous anachronisms that appear as Walker's dictatorship begins to fall apart actually seem relatively in place in terms of the story.  It is hilarious in most cases, and just puzzling in others.  My personal favorite is the cover of Newsweek, where one of the smaller stories listed on the cover is something about gay priests.  The main cover, however, shows Walker's face, claiming him as an American hero.  This was really just to show the celebrity status someone gains when they conquer and exploit in the name of America.

While it certainly would not be recommended for the most cynical of human beings, it is an entertaining experiment in politcal satire.  While it often delves into the realm of the hallucinatory and the bizarre, it mostly stays on its main topic, though it is very good at doing both.  Especially in the final sequence, which I thought was the most impressive part of the entire film.

Under discussion:

Apocalypse Now  (1979)

A Clockwork Orange  (1971)

This was one of my most difficult decisions…there is an undisputed number 1 spot, which will be revealed when I get to writing something that will successfully pay homage to the film itself, but this spot was tough.  I thought it was clear-cut for a while, but then I recently saw a film that I really wanted to add.  Both films are pretty bleak, pretty disturbing, and pretty strange; and both are definite classics, outstanding films from legendary directors.  So, after much deliberation, here is number 2 and number 2½.

2.  Apocalypse Now I have always been intrigued by this movie.  I saw a good deal of it on AMC when I was about 12 years old, and promptly set to begging my parents to let me go out and buy/rent it.  Finally, after ragging them for the better part of two years, I bought a copy of it.  It completely and utterly blew my mind.

Never had I seen such brilliant film-making.  The viewer is sucked completely into the unstable mind of veteran special-ops agent Willard, on a journey down a savage river that loses all sense of time, reality, and purpose.  He is sent out to kill a man he does not even know; and is meant to learn about through transcripts and letters documenting his rise and fall.  No one knows when this expedition will end—but all seem to know that it will inevitably end in tragedy.

Martin Sheen gives a supremely understated and powerful performance…while it is not exactly a showy role, it is one that was probably extremely difficult to pull off, in that a lot of the film is him sitting on the boat examining documents about Kurtz.  However, he does the job famously.  Robert Duvall is hilarious (yet somewhat unsettling) in his classic and brilliant small role.  His character (Col. Kilgore) is a larger than life character, perfectly representing the bizarre truths about Americans, military types especially; it is pretty self-explanatory what I mean when you look at the fact that they bomb and pillage a Vietnamese town (perfectly edited to Cry of the Valkries) only for the opportunity to see one of Willard’s men, a professional surfer, showcase his talents.  It really illustrates the exploitative nature of the American military, hitting the mark perfectly, just as the rest of the film does in illustrating the chaos and madness of not only the Vietnam war, but war in general.

Say what you want about Marlon Brando’s performance, but I found it to be deeply and strangely unsettling.  This could be because he was facing the same sort of issues at that time in his life; he was becoming increasingly reclusive and separating himself more and more from humanity, believing that he was above everybody else.  This attitude was perfect to portray Kurtz, a man who is trapped by his own insanity.  Some of his monologues are peculiar yet greatly profound.

The beginning and ending sequences are almost entities in themselves when you talk about this film.  Both are trippy, stylish, and edited to awesome music and sounds.  In the beginning, the song is ironically The End by The Doors, in the most perfect sequence of any film I have ever seen.  As the film and Willard descend into madness, this song is chronicling it, as well as the sound of helicopter rotors as the fan spins.  The ending is just beautiful—Kurtz clearly wants Willard to be the one to kill him, before offering him the last temptation by giving him a glimpse of his philosophy.  I still get the chills as Willard rises out of the red water…it’s completely incredible.  As is the entire movie.

2½ .  A Clockwork Orange Now, I only recently saw this movie, but I really just had to include it here up near my top two, since I was really taken aback by its power.  This movie actually has a more personal meaning to me; my mom and dad constantly tell the story of their first date, during which my dad took my mom to see this movie, and my mom dumped him soon following, for the reason that she was so immensely disturbed by it.  I’ve always thought this was hilarious, and I’ve always wanted to see it out of curiosity.

I would have to watch it again to write a full analysis, but it was worth mentioning.  I was especially amazed by the scene by the water where Alex puts his “droogs” back in their place—slow motion imagery melded with music in its finest form.  And this was only one of about a dozen scenes that really stuck out in my mind.  Stanley Kubrick was a total genius.

Under discussion:

Naked Lunch  (1991)

I somehow discovered this movie on Amazon a few weeks ago, and after reading up on it, I bought it out pure curiosity, and based on the fact that I had loved all the criterion films I had bought before this one.  I’m still amazed at how much I liked this movie.

I would like to start off by mentioning that William S. Burroughs is one of the most interesting people I have ever heard of, and I plan on reading his work very soon.  What is most fascinating about him is trying to decipher what about is actually true, and what about him is myth or fiction.  He actually reminds of a more literary Hunter S. Thompson, one of my favorite characters in writing (or even history).

However, it was not only these few reasons that I found the movie so exceptional.  The exposition is especially well-done, introducing you to Peter Weller’s Bill Lee character and his deadpan delivery of exterminator lines.  Even when the film is anchored in reality, it has a strange, surreal feel to it, heightened by awesome saxophone work by Ornette Coleman and a quietly strange score by Howard Shore.  Soon after Bill Lee utters the line “Exterminate all rational thought—that is the conclusion I have come to”, which acts as self-explanatory advice to the viewer, the film dips into the surreal and haunting world of a writer struggling with a near impossible work to finish.

Peter Weller is outstanding.  I have never seen such a perfectly deadpan performance that still contains so much depth and undertones in the right parts of his portrayal.  Judy Davis is also very good as his unfaithful, drug addled wife (and later lover?).  Most of the other performances are pretty much bit parts, shown to heighten the insignificance of normal human contact in the writing process.  There are a couple characters, however, to pay attention to—Ian Holm plays a fellow writer in “Interzone”, who lends Bill his cherished typewriter, only to have it be labeled as an “enemy agent” by Bill’s typewriter and destroyed.  Roy Scheider very effectively plays the role of a drug manufacturer in Interzone, and also seems to have a lot of fun with the part, hamming it up near the end of the final act.

It is also important to note that most of the occurrences in the film are in fact happening, but the way they are portrayed is through Bill Lee’s hallucinatory visions, as he believes that everything is assignment from a secret organization, and his writing is merely “reports.”

What is remarkable about the film is that it never delves into bizarrity without making you genuinely care what happens to Lee.  You watch his deliriums and dependencies spiral out of control, but he always retains his main character traits, though they may not be all that likeable.  It is difficult to watch sometimes, as it is often graphic and disturbing, but in the end, it is an extremely rewarding, yet puzzling, experience.

All in all, it is a meditation on the difficulties of the writing process, and the effect that drugs may have on a writer in the middle of it.  Burroughs really struggled with similar hallucinations and difficulties while writing the novel in Tangier, giving the film a very credible stand on the subject matter.  It was very effective that Cronenberg included not only events from the novel, but various happenings in Burroughs’ life and even some parts of his other books.  He even uses the William Tell routine to demonstrate what Burroughs said, in his own words, “Inspired him to be a writer.”  The significance of including it again after finally leaving Interzone is very simple—the “accidental” murder of his wife got him there, got him into writing; and now it is ultimately what will help him to finish his novel, and leave Interzone.

Under discussion:

Manda Bala  (2007)

As it was a documentary, I held off from watching Manda Bala for a pretty long time, despite the intriguing cover art and synopsis.  I am sort of mad that I held off for so long, since I was surprised to find that it was really quite good.

In Brazil, especially the Sao Paulo district, political corruption runs rampant, as do the equally powerful kidnapping and crime rings in the city slums.  The film begins by introducing a frog farm owner, who claims he would “never harm frogs in the wild”, but harvests them for various reasons at his business.  The scenes and descriptions of how the farm works are extremely well-done, and are the most stylistically done sequences of the film.

In the beginning, it’s hard to figure out just where the film is going, since so many different themes are presented, and it’s difficult to tell how they’re tied together (such as a woman describing her experience in being kidnapped in contrast with the frog farm).  However, once the film gets into full swing, and it’s revealed that the frog farm was in fact part of a money laundering scheme by fraudulent government officials, there are some powerful and eye-opening statements made.

One of the major and most interesting sub-topics shown is of a plastic surgeon, who in wake of the influx of ear-severing occurring during kidnappings, has developed a revolutionary new way to rebuild the ear.  It is fascinating, yet at the same time frustrating, seeing this man set to work, when in reality he is merely making profit off of other people’s suffering.  Because on one hand, he is helping them fix their deformities and help them out after such a traumatic experience, but in the other hand, he is making them pay immense amounts of money to get it done.

The film as a whole is extremely stylized, with perfectly timed ironic jibes and the metaphorical use of the frogs in representing Brazilian society.  It is often hilarious to see the film-makers begin their interviews so friendly and casual, and then ask a blunt, precise question that renders the subject speechless.  The best is when they get to interview Jader Barbalho, the maestro of the most diabolical of the money embezzlement schemes.  The interview begins with friendly questions as to his policy—and ends with Jader walking out of the room after being asked about a certain frog ranch.  The film-maker’s sense of irony and darkly exploitative humor is what makes the movie so compelling as a whole, and so powerful in the end.

Some of the subjects that Jason Kohn managed to talk with are extremely impressive, and one of these is a kidnapper/bank-robber from the Sao Paulo slums.  Some of the things revealed in this interview are the most disturbing yet overwhelmingly moving things said in the film.  It is amazing that one cannot bring themself to hate this man that is so clearly ruthless and would kill most people without a thought, because he is so oblivious to the wrong that he is doing.  The only reason he does it is because he has to in order to survive—and help his entire neighborhood to survive.  His final lines are profoundly emotional and eye-opening.

Manda Bala is a very good documentary.  It is very easy to see why it garnered such apparent acclaim, and won the Sundance best documentary.  Not only is its subject and ideas important, but it is carried out in a way that is fresh, stylish, and entertaining.

Under discussion:

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly  (1966)

13 Tzameti  (2005)

No Country for Old Men  (2007)

13 Tzameti is top-notch suspense in almost every aspect.  French director Géla Babluani crafts a masterful thriller based on a basically messed up version of Russian Roulette.  While the exposition is a little bit slow and drawn out, once the main character (played by George Babluani) starts rolling the film never lets up, drawing you into this depraved world of drugs and violence.  Everything is utilized to outstanding effect, such as the big fat sweaty guy asking for a chair, which, in the scene, frustratingly draws out the revelation of the gruesome outcome of one of the rounds. 

The long, overdrawn beginning is nonetheless very unique in its style and delivery in that it creates a sense of foreboding and the unknown through very minimalist ways, which is usually uncharacteristic of a suspense film.  The scenes of George working on the roof of the morphine addict’s house are somehow captivating, and though dull compared with the rest of the work, they keep you interested as to what will happen next, where the film is going.  The suspense really begins to kick in when George takes a letter from the guy, which he knows is connected to a mysterious money venture that the man was involved in. 

Soon, when George is plunged into a world of brutal violence and disgusting depravity, the film becomes a perfect exercise in white-knuckle suspense.  The game is the ultimate judgment of life and death, and it is played out to horrific and tragic consequences.  The amazing part of it is how unsympathetic the execution of the movie is.  The game is showed in such a matter-of-fact, run-of-the-mill manner, creating almost unbearable tension as more and more players are lost to its violent nature.  Everything about these scenes are done extremely well, especially the Leone-esque close-ups of sweaty faces and gun barrels.  I took those images as tributes to that director’s revolutionary style of suspense (I am referring to, of course, the final scene of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, during which my head exploded). 

I especially enjoyed the director’s use of drugs as a symbol of the depravity of the culture represented at the game.  One man passes out after coming completely trashed, and morphine is used to calm a man down who refuses to reenter the game for a very rational fear of death.  As one of the main character’s attendants says, ”Morphine’s cool as shit!  Everyone here does it!”   It’s such a deceptively simple statement, but it works so perfectly in the film.  The character’s ability to rise above the immorality of his situation is shown by his refusal to even go near them, or even to drink alcohol. 

In the end, it seems as though the theme of the film is the character’s loss of innocence at the hands of something so vile and horrific.  It brings to mind Llewellyn Moss in No Country for Old Men in that both characters take something that doesn’t belong to them and are plunged into worlds of almost unfathomable violence and sadism.  However, all in all, the film is meant to be suspense.  And it is exceptional suspense, at that.  Even the black-and-white film is used as means of suspense, since it creates an isolated, dreamlike world in that lonely house that most of the action occurs in.  It also pays homage to Hitchcockian classics in several sequences, most notably the evocative final scene on the train. 

I very much agree that with this film, the less you know about it the better off your viewing experience will be.  You need to go into it with an open mind, not expecting anything, and next thing you know, you will be on the edge of your seat, riveted as to what will happen next, who is going to die next.  It is a great film for those who are merely looking for a stylish, well-made thrill ride.