Sometimes a foreign film manages to wangle its way into the hearts of the critics, and it never becomes clear why that is so, what is so special about this one in contrast to all the others. Just recently “I saw the Devil” was a candidate for inexplicable critics’ rave, even though there is at least one split between those who feel the violence in the movie is gratuitous and those who believe it is earned. With “13 Assassins” there is no such split, everybody seems to love it. Except me, it seems. The concept of a savage brute who is protected by his status as the shogun’s brother and abuses this position for arbitrary rape and murder is fair enough. After establishing this, I do not find too many surprises, dramatically or technically, that would have caused me to raise this above almost every other Samurai-Revenge-film of the last 50 years. I do not know that many, but at least Zatoichi the Blind Samurai comes to mind, which has a level of wit, humour and creativity in handling the fights that I do not see in “13 Assassins”. The Assassins that are assembled to bring down the Shogun-brother are quite a bunch, but not a very wild one, and they are certainly no Seven Samurai. Entertaining enough they are, however.
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It is funny to imagine “Old Joy” as the first rough sketch which through many iterations of script and casting later resulted in
Korean movies are the fashion of the day – or of the decade, maybe even. With outstanding contributions in the traditional revenge and thriller genre (The Vengeance Trilogy), goofy horror shlockbuster like “The Host” or dense dramas such as Poetry, with the humour of “Mother”, Korea has established itself as a market to whom a subscription is worthwhile.
From minute one, it is rather obvious what will happen in this film. That does not mean that it would not be entertaining – it is most of the time, even though Reverend Cotton Marcus is not the person you want to identify with: an obnoxious, self-important actor on the stage of Christian tv preacherism, probably the least likeable category of persons in the world apart from ancient Lovecraftian demons. He is lucky that one of those demons is around as well, so he comes off as the good guy.
This seems to be a German phenomenon at the moment: films that look professionally made, but that are outright disasters because of their thorough lack of originality. Germany is the engineering country, after all, so why to expect a funny and inspiring and witty story? Right, and somebody decided it was necessary to make this story into a 3D version so that the expensive equipment pays off. There is not a single funny thing in here, there is no funny character, there is no witty dialogue, and if you are older that four and hence are able to read, you will have no surprises with the plot whatsoever. An uninspired copycat of better works out of the “Lion King to Ice Age” story drawer. Boring.
A documentary by Jonathan Demme about former US president Jimmy Carter, or more specifically about a book promotion tour Carter did in 2006 and 07 for his book on the Palestine conflict. Demme occasionally steps back to give a slightly wider perspective, on Carter’s work as president as well as on the work the Carter Center does, and then zooms in to further document the controversy about the book stirred by the assertion of Apartheid being practiced in the West Bank and Gaza strip. It is interesting to see how a former president travels, how he is continuously under siege by entourage, how the interaction between him, his publishers and the media works, how academic grievances flare up and are being handle… plenty of interesting material, with the slight downside that Demme does not focus on a single one of them. The film title suggests that the film is about the person Jimmy Carter at large, but there is not enough of this in the film to justify that. It seems that the book controversy was encountered by coincidence, and that the film producers lacked the courage and / or permissions to go into more detail on the actual content of this. So it all remains a bit of a patchwork, with the most interesting bits for me being the flash backs to the time of the Carter administration and the Camp David meetings, while the personal story falls rather flat for lack of detail. Interesting, but not much more.
This is a ride back on nostalgia lane, but not in a very good way. I do love Stephen King, I do like George Romero, and the Creepshow comic that come out sometime in the early 80s was something special, if only for the fact that in those days, the world was a very much non-networked place and it required months and money transfers and daily eager observation of the mailbox to get it after ordering it through the awesome “Castle Rock” fanzine. Good times…
Now what is attraction of watching goats walk through an Italian landscape, funerals snaking through the village main road, Good Friday processions following that same path, char burners preparing to pile up wood, goat herders sitting and smoking, snails invading a kitchen table? It is fabulously beautiful! Technically not a silent movie, yet there is no dialogue. It just is not necessary, because what people are doing mostly requires no talk: herding goats (the goats do a lot of talking, though), chopping wood, waiting for death to arrive. We watch one year’s full cycle of life, we see birth and death, we witness the drama of a little goat getting lost, of the Roman soldiers almost arriving too late for their passion play, and of the stand-off between a dog and a kid that was left behind. We see this filmed with an almost completely static camera, sometimes taking in as much as the whole village in one shot, not zooming in on the details that surely are there to admire, but rather staying back, watching everything with the same level of attention, as if stating that whatever exists deserves the same right to be observed, whether it moves and talks or whether it is a street corner that does not do a thing apart from hiding what’s behind. The camera is sucking in the beauty of the hills, of the trees, of the smoke coming out of the burning charcoal, of the people’s faces. It is one big effort in meditation, and if anybody dares to think that this could be boring: I watched it between 3am and 5am in the morning, and never even lost a thought about getting tired.
A group of prisoners escaping from a Siberian Gulag is kind of a safe bet for a film: you have plenty of landscape, perilous situations, probably crossing rivers and being chased by dogs, you have vast landscapes and beautiful panorama shots of mountain ranges and of deserts. All that is here, including Ed Harris, who starts developing an interesting old-man’s face. Thing is, that beyond these aspects that you know will be there, there are not many surprises to be had in this film. Maybe it was not the best of choices to open the film with a text insert telling the audience how many of the escapees will make it all the way from Siberia to India. Maybe it was also not too good of an idea to stick relatively close to the truth of the “real story”, as real life usually does not provide great story arcs. In the end, “The Way Back” is worth watching, if only for the actors and the landscapes and the dirty costumes. Despite this solidness, it left with me a slight feeling of indifference.
Coen Brothers, Western, Jeff Bridges? What can go wrong? Nothing, really: True Grit is the way you would expect it to be after learning the setup. While I wrote just some minutes ago that “The Way Back” suffers from being perfectly predictable and without interesting surprises, “True Grit” is perfectly predictable, without interesting surprises, but in a great and entertaining way. My conclusion is that it’s all about the characters populating this dirty borderland between the dangerous and chaotic settled land and the even more dangerous and completely uncharted Indian territories. Jeff Bridges and Matt Damon and Josh Brolin and even the annoying girl, plus all those wrecked adventurers they meet on their way, either as a gang of thieves, or as suppliers in their road house… they are all unconventional in the way that is enjoyable to see. Seeing this right after watching all of the brilliant “Deadwood” show more or less in one go, I now must put on my hat, saddle the horse and ride out into the dusty hills, all the while spitting and cursing like a sailor about them f*&%ing co&%suckers. Ahh, what bliss!
This is a seriously weird movie. If you imagine merging the darker sides of “The Red Shoes” and “Black Swan”, throwing it into the “8 1/2” machine, blending it with “Synechdoche, New York” and then popping some pills before watching the result. Goodness, this is weird… Only in retrospect, after reading about the production history and learning that it is basically a film version of the director’s life while making a film about making … no: Bob Fosse did the double stunt of staging “Chicago” while directing his Lenny Bruce film, and it seems that pressure released some interesting creativity… it is fantasy about death and embracing death as a way out of all the pressures and burdens, it is a big video clip with gorgeous dance sequences, it is a dark twisted fantasy about the dream world that you can escape into to escape reality. It is about one self-defined larger-than-life director and his downward spiral. He has a stage play to stage, and a movie about a comedian to direct. All is carried by Roy Scheider as Joe Gideon, who is silent and majestic, sexy and sloppy, an egomaniac and a lover of life and of death.
Very low budget meet low expectations, which makes this a rather enjoyable experience. Plenty of Vampire-Zombie-Thingies have taken over the earth, and people have to get through it in order to reach a safe haven. Sounds familiar? Oh so very much, what can you do? Except for some ridiculous montage sequences where the junior hero gets Karate Kid-like lessons in anti-vampire-stake-handling, “Stake Land” keeps you plenty amused with a steady (a tad monotonous) rhythm of attacks, road trip, attack, and road trip again. “28 days” knows much better how to handle this situation, and so does that Zombie tv show that I found to be pretty good last year on Showtime or HBO. But as you cannot permanently re-watch these, and in-between “Stake Land” provides for some amusement. When I first heard the title, I took it to be “Steak Land” and that would have been an even better movie …
Until I saw “Sucker Punch”, I thought “Pope Joan” certainly must be the worst film I will see this year. “Sucker Punch” takes “stunningly bad in a completely non-entertaining way” to a new level:
d be the worst film I have seen in a decade (and that decade has “Pirates 2” and “Transformers 2” in it). The project was doomed from the beginning, I believe. The novel on which it is based is maybe a nice beach read, but does not have any of the substance the truly great historic epics have. It is a one-idea book, a woman becomes pope, and squeezes this idea until the eyes of the readers bleed. The filmmakers apparently believed that all you have to do is to create some nice sets and invest in dirty medieval costumes, and success of “Name of the Rose” proportions is nigh. Nay! The film exclusively consists of sets and costumes. Whenever anybody speaks a line, it is dialogue (or, even worse, voiceover narration) of the most primitive style, structure and content. It is as if nobody who wrote that script had ever seen a film, nobody had ever heard human beings speak, as if the whole history of cinema would not exist and you could start the craft anew by arbitrarily throwing some words together. The actors cannot do anything with this, and the actually only redeemable feature about the film is not even John Goodman as pope somebody, but the knowledge that Goodman was mentally completely absent during the shoot, conjuring up the image of what he can do with the paycheck while shutting himself off to the atrocity this production surely must have been. It is hard to speculate what would have happened had original director Volker Schloendorff not been sacked from the job, and how he would have managed to massage this material into something gritty and edgy and interesting. I do not see how, but he definitely would have been the better scrip writer himself and would not have suffered through these wooden words falling dead every single time anybody speaks… Ghastly!
I do not like sitcoms and comedies in general. In cinema, there is a very thin thread of comedic masterpieces from “To be or not to be”, through “Tootsie” to maybe “Juno”. In tv, I keep hating the general flow of below-average sitcoms and comedies, catering to ironing housewives and crotch-scratching housemen in the breaks between football matches (or the other way around, for gender equality reasons)… They are not, I believe, written to be a serious work of art, sloppily produced and inconsistent in quality. I did have my fun with parts of the “Drew Carrey Show”, even more with “The Thick of It”, but here endeth the story of my comedic affections. I laugh the most when the humour is hidden in the drama of real life – where situations or characters are just ridiculous, not so much comedic. “The Sopranos” are fantastic comedy, and so are all the Coen Brothers’ movies (except the “comedies”…).