Daily Archives: May 10, 2008

More Thoughts on Speed Racer

In 1999, a landmark year for American cinema all around, but especially with regards to studio filmmaking, Andy and Larry Wachowski — who had previously scripted Assassins and directed only 1996’s small-scale crime thriller Bound — set the sci-fi adventure genre on its head with The Matrix, a labyrinthine, parallel-world shoot-’em-up in which Keanu Reeves’ office drone unlocks the power within in a manner in which Tony Robbins could have never dreamed. Their latest movie is Speed Racer, a colorful, golly-gee-toned adaptation of the old Japanese import cartoon series.

The technical proficiency of the film is never in question; from frame one, the Wachowskis succeed in crafting an ecstatically eye-popping spectacle, buoyed by neon-tinted primary colors, extreme close-ups and wild, desert-set car chases in which automobiles pogo over one another to cool sound effects. All in all, I’m pretty sure Hunter S. Thompson had hallucinations like this.

Yet there’s an ineffable but chokingly pervasive sense that Speed Racer is, well, sort of a cop-out. Sure, it’s a family flick first and foremost, and not fair to judge based mostly on what it isn’t. Yet anyone in their teens or older is almost certainly going to have seen one or all of the Matrix movies before this, and the chief, whispering thought lodged in their brain, irrespective of whether they’re pleasantly surfing along on Speed Racer‘s surfeit of “cool,” is going to be, “Hmmmm… this is kind of tame.”

While its two 2003 sequels, The Matrix Reloaded and The Matrix Revolutions, both met with lukewarm-to-stinging critical reaction and more than a bit of fan-boy howling, they were undeniably of a piece with the original movie, stylistically and tonally. All three films were rated R, and dealt in explosions and hand-to-hand combat. The mixing of these base elements along with ample portions of armchair psychology and religious theory gave the movies a pop, a certain contrast to other genre flicks of their ilk.

The PG-rated Speed Racer, on the other hand, feels safe, and made of prefabricated parts. While sabotage and subterfuge are the name of the game within the plot, there’s nary a gun in sight. Which got me to thinking — unless it’s inherently part of the narrative (see David Lynch’s The Straight Story, or David Mamet’s The Winslow Boy), it’s nearly impossible for filmmakers with some sense of auteurish branding to go forward or backwards in rating by more than a single classification. It’s just inviting ruin, in a way. That’s why, rightly or wrongly, after the splash of cold water to the face that was bullet-time, Speed Racer feels like a water-treading ploy by the Wachowskis for wide-scale embrace. For the full piece, from FilmStew, click here.

John Ridley Raps Exit Polls

U Turn and Undercover Brother screenwriter John Ridley has weighed in against exit polls in a Huffington Post piece, saying, “The conclusions drawn from these excavations usually reflect the
media’s own bias” and “with each round of voting the media echo chamber tends to
magnify the disparities of each subset
. Again and again we are told the
black vote has abandoned the Clintons, older white women don’t connect
with Obama. This repetition breeds resentment; how dare ‘those people’
not support my candidate? In short order our own opinions about those
who abandon and those who refuse to connect calcify into animosity
,
making it hard for us to see the ‘other’ candidate as potentially ‘our’
candidate.” For the full piece, click here.

How Many Fedoras Does Indiana Jones Need?

There’s a nice short piece in the Los Angeles Times today, by Paul Davidson, which focuses on costume designer Bernie Pollack (yes, brother of multi-hyphenate Sydney) and his work for the forthcoming Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. Not surprisingly, the film presented some unique challenges. “The last film was made 18 years ago,” says Pollack. “Everybody that worked on it was out of business. The hat maker was gone. The costumer was gone. So I had to start from scratch. I had to find fabric, find people who could make it. I mean, I’m making an iconic movie. He has got to look as good or better than in the other films in the series. If he looks less than that, I’m an ass.”

All’s well that ends well, of course, and eventually Pollack found his perfectly distressed archaeologist gear, he claims. Of course, as insurance against damage from water, fire, dirt, blood (fake and otherwise), stunts and anything else that might happen, Pollack wanted to play it safe and order in bulk, and the not-quite-cash-strapped production was happy to oblige. The final tally for Harrison Ford’s character: 30 identical fedoras, 30 leather jackets, 60 pairs of khaki pants and 72 shirts.

The Cottage

Character actor Andy Serkis (below right) is best known for the computer-generated creatures he lent physicality in Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings films, and King Kong,
but in his latest movie he meets perhaps his most formidable screen challenge to date — a
psychopathic farmer with a penchant for masks made of skin. Written and directed by Paul Andrew Williams, The Cottage is a strange little British cocktail of horror and bickering comedy, a movie done a grave disservice by a grisly DVD cover that sells it as something it’s not entirely.

Forced into hiding after their kidnapping of bratty spitfire Tracey (Jennifer Ellison, above center) goes awry,
at-odds siblings David (Serkis) and Peter (Reece Shearsmith, above
left) find themselves fighting for their sanity while they hole up in a
secluded country cottage. Refusing to stay quiet, foul-mouthed,
sweatpants-clad Tracey puts up quite a
ruckus, and once she susses out the involvement of her oafish stepbrother Andrew (Steven O’Donnell) in the $100,000 ransom plot, turns the tables on the guys, who find themselves somewhat held captive by their own
victim. That’s only half the story, though, as everyone’s problems soon go from bad to much worse when they all come
face-to-face with a towering, axe-wielding monstrosity who would feel very much at home with the families of The Devil’s Rejects and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

The Cottage is essentially two films mashed together — one part screwball character-rooted caper, one part goosing, self-aware horror flick — and how one feels in gut-reaction fashion about that prospect very much informs one’s take on the movie as a whole. The first 30 to 35 minutes is very much about David and Peter’s complicated relationship, and the chemistry between Serkis (who gets to play hectoring and exasperated) and Shearsmith is a pleasure, reminding me, perhaps strangely enough, of Matthew Broderick and Nathan Lane from The Producers. When things turn violent, though, director Williams doesn’t skimp on the gore, even as he plays things with a wink and a nod, tossing in amusing character bits (Peter is terrified by moths) and setting one frightened-flight sequence to Beethoven’s “Ninth Symphony in D Minor.” Powered by this weird, anything-can-happen vibe, The Cottage feels reminiscent (at least emotionally, hopefully not in any specifics) of the way bedtime stories mattered so much as a kid, when even boilerplate characters and silly twists could make you squirm in feeling delight. Trying to parse and make sense of some of the story choices and twists is a losing proposition, but The Cottage at least has an idiosyncratic stamp of personality, and that’s a welcome enough thing to make it a fun rental.

The Cottage comes in a regular Amray case with a cardboard slipcover, and is presented in 2.35:1 anamorphic widescreen, with English, French, Spanish and Portuguese language Dolby digital 5.1 audio tracks, and optional subtitles in all the aforementioned tongues. Five minutes of outtakes highlight mangled lines and missed cues, while 12 minutes of deleted scenes, nine in total, showcase among other things a third, dead brother, “Smoking Joe,” who was excised from the movie early on, apparently during filming. There are also 11 preview trailers and two storyboard galleries, both involving Peter and Tracey crossing paths with the psychotic killer. Finally, as with Sony’s recent release of Hero Wanted, there’s also a free digital copy of the film,
which purchasers can transfer to their PC, PlayStation 3 or PSP
(PlayStation Portable) system, pending minimal memory requirements. The only thing missing, unfortunately, are some cast and/or crew interviews, which would seemingly be of extra interest given the wild-and-woolly tone of the material. For a couple sample clips of the movie, click here and here, respectively. To purchase the film via Amazon, meanwhile, click here. B- (Movie) B (Disc)

Happy Birthday, Odette Yustman

It’s a happy birthday to Cloverfield cutie Odette Yustman, who turns 23 today, and certainly looks a lot better without a steel rod sticking out of her shoulder.

Time and the cruel crucible of young starlet turnover will tell if Yustman has the chops to carry other movies, or if the general effectiveness and affecting nature of her turn in Cloverfield was more a product of its verité construction. Regardless, she seems really naturally charming and pleasant, and I’m both surprised and stoked that actually that’s her given birth name.

Cinematheque Hosts Rare Pre-Code Cinema

A hearty slice of pre-code cinema screens at the Egyptian Theatre Thursday, May 22 and Friday, May 23, with double- and triple-features of films not yet released to DVD, alongside documentaries that cast an illuminating light on movies that flagrantly flaunted their vice-laden pedigree.

Harnessing the wilder impulses of Hollywood cinema at the end of the silent era was one of the prime items on the agenda of every politician and crusading do-gooder in America. A production code was actually drawn up circa 1930, supposedly severely limiting some of the sexy, saucy and ultra-violent antics cropping up in the movies. But things still continued apace, with little real censorship beyond nod-and-a-wink lip service to the new standards. In the wake of Prohibition in the early 1930s, though, public and political outcry forced the appointment of Joseph Breen to preside over enforcement of the code in 1934, finally putting some teeth into the new criteria.

As numerous films from the era have been restored, most notably by Sony
Repertory’s Preservation Department, Warner Bros. (in conjunction with
their recent “Forbidden Hollywood” pre-code DVD releases) and the UCLA
Archive (in conjunction with Universal Pictures), a fascination has evolved among current movie fans for the pre-code Hollywood phenomenon, especially for the talkies from the early 1930s. Several excellent documentaries on the subject have been made, including Why Be Good? Sexuality and Censorship in Early Cinema, executive produced by Hugh Hefner and directed by Elaina Archer.

That film, as well as a handful of some of the rarest yet most fascinating pre-code movies available, including Frank Capra’s Forbidden, Cecil B. DeMille’s Madam Satan and Charles Brabin’s Beast of the City (none of which have yet been released to DVD) will screen May 22 and 23 at the historic
Egyptian Theatre
, which is located at 6712
Hollywood Boulevard
,
between Highland
and Las Palmas,
in Hollywood.
Tickets for all events are available through Fandango, but for 24-hour recorded information on screenings,
directions and other matters, phone (323) 466-FILM, or visit the Cinematheque’s eponymous
Web site by clicking here
.

Unthinkable Becomes Reality

The favorite what-if scenario of ultra-right-wing nutters will get its day in Unthinkable, which centers on a major threat to the United States involving three nuclear devices whose locations are shrouded in secrecy by a single terrorist. With only two days before they are deployed, a black-ops interrogator and a female FBI agent have to decide how far they will go to find them. Variety reports that Buffalo Soldiers helmer Gregor Jordan will direct, and Samuel L. Jackson will star (presumably as the black-ops interrogator, not the female FBI agent, which will be, I don’t know, Julianne Moore? Rachel Weisz? Rachel McAdams?)

While this will surely, finally give the talking heads at Fox News something other than 24 and Jack Bauer to reference, given the conceit, the guy-and-gal commercial concession and, I’m sad to say, the involvement of Jackson, does anyone doubt that this movie is going to suck in dispiriting ways? Jackson only tries in approximately every fourth film (the last time was in Resurrecting the Champ… though I haven’t seen Renny Harlin’s direct-to-DVD Cleaner), and everything about this reads phone-it-in, gun-waving, loud-authoritative-voice-using Jackson, which we’ve seen approximately two dozen times before. Can’t wait for the water-boarding recreations set to Hans Zimmer music, though. Oh wait… yes I can.

Errol Morris: Pictures of an Artist in Anything But Repose

There have been literally dozens of documentaries made about the war in Iraq, and almost without exception they’ve been rather famously ignored by a filmgoing populace seemingly too ground down by a combination of their own economic anxieties and generalized, numbed depression or despair to care about a cinematic rehashing of what they now overwhelmingly judge as a from-day-one fuck-up.

Oscar-winning filmmaker Errol Morris, though, is mad as hell, and thinks others should be too. “I would often say when I was making this movie that I don’t know, really, whether Americans care about torture. I care about it,” he says, stressing the personal pronoun and leaning back in his chair, “but I don’t know whether most people care, in the sense that they tell themselves, ‘Well, it’s an implacable foe, a ruthless enemy, and you have to do what you have to do to win the war.'”



Among other works, Morris is the director behind The Thin Blue Line, Fast, Cheap & Out of Control and, perhaps most eerily timely and insightfully, 2003’s The Fog of War, which used former Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara and his decision-making in the waging of the Vietnam War as a prism through which to assay the missteps of American military aggression and intervention. His latest film — the “this movie” referenced above — is entitled Standard Operating Procedure. It’s about a series of photographs at Abu Ghraib prison that changed the world, changed the nature of the Iraq war and changed America’s image of itself, or at least dragged into the light of day the yawning gulf between a nation’s soaring rhetoric and its actions. A hundred years from now, these photographs in all likelihood will define the war in Iraq, in particular three iconic photographs taken by soldiers in the 372nd MP Company — soldier Lynndie England posing with a prisoner on a leash, a hooded man standing on a box with wires attached to his fingers, and a pyramid of naked prisoners.

In his perspicacious new film, Morris shows how the photographs served as both an exposé and a cover-up — the former because the photographs offered everyday Americans a glimpse of the horror of what was happening at Abu Ghraib, but the latter because they seduced people into thinking what they saw was an aberration limited to a few rouge soldiers working the night-shift. “The photographs became politicized immediately — the left would say one thing, the right would say something else,” Morris says. “And it very, very quickly devolved into an argument about rogue soldiers versus administration policy, without anyone ever really bothering to investigate the circumstances under which the photographs were taken. It became political football.”

“I wanted to make a movie about… the kind of bizarre misdirection created by the photographs,” Morris continues. “There are lots of other movies to make [and] other stories to tell, including those that involve the higher-ups. I think there’s so much anger and frustration about the war that [people] want some kind of superhero to come out of the wings and nail (former Secretary of Defense Donald) Rumsfeld to the wall, and if I haven’t done it they’re just pissed off, like, ‘That’s the job, guy! Why are you fucking around with a bunch of pictures?’ And it’s because I’m actually fascinated by those pictures, and photography, and I’m fascinated by the fact that there are things in front of our eyes that we can’t see. The scary thing about pictures to me is that they can be used to reveal and to hide. They can [both] make you think you know things that you don’t know, and they can certainly show you things that you cannot have seen otherwise.”

While it’s built chiefly around unblinking interviews with the actual subjects at the center of the controversy, Standard Operating Procedure, like most of Morris’ other films, also includes exacting reenactments. Because of this, and also because it’s in part about the inherent ambiguity of still photography — which after all captures only one moment in time, and in subjective fashion — it only stands to reason that the documentary arrives on the heels of Nonfiction, a 100-page book of photographs taken by Nubar Alexanian on the sets of Standard Operating Procedure and other Morris films.

The photographer, who has a relationship with Morris spanning more than 15 years, says he got a feeling early on that this project was different in substantive ways. “Errol created an exact duplicate of the cell block of Abu Ghraib. So all of us working on the set were in Abu Ghraib prison, and [yet] we were not,” says Alexanian. “Standard Operating Procedure is a movie about a subject we all know something about, that the press thinks it’s covered. But what Errol Morris has is the truth.” For a longer question-and-answer interview with Morris, click here.