Thursday, September 23, 2010

Devil
B+


I have always been an M. Night Shyamalan apologist, but apologies are wearing thin these days.  I still remember excitedly purchasing my ticket for Lady in the Water and sitting down in the theater anticipating what must surely be my favorite director's most ambitious and rewarding story to date.  Then I was subjected to a sustained bullwhipping unlike I'd ever experienced.  It's the same feeling I would get in a school play when things are going horribly wrong.  I'd feel embarrassed for the actors but also for myself somehow.  Maybe it's because of how easily I shunned all critics and naysayers and waltzed right into the lion's mouth.   I'm no slave to Rottentomatoes and Metacritic.  I've loved a host of movies everyone else hated.  Watching Lady in the Water was like watching something I once loved get beaten to death and then rise from the grave, a pale shell of its former self and lumber around for a bit until it finally lays down and dies.  Y'know, like in zombie films, when a guy's wife gets bitten and turns into a zombie and he doesn't want to shoot her in the head because he still loves her and he can't accept that she's dead and his friends are all like, "It's not her!  There is nothing of her left!  She's dead!  Come on, we gotta get outta here!"  I love Night, don't get me wrong.  His style is good old Twilight Zone fare that is poised to engage the heart and mind in equal measure.  But grassmonkeys?  Come on Night.  A man can only take so many lashes.

At one time I thought the answer was for him to back up and direct a Harry Potter movie.  He was certainly offered it more than a few times, but he decided to make the Crappening, uh I mean the Happening instead.  Again, I've not seen it but if any of you think I should, feel free to call me out on that.  No one?  Really?  Okay, I'll go on then.  Then I caught wind that he would be adapting Avatar: The Last Airbender, an excellent little Nickelodeon show that I happened to just love.  Well, rumor has it he's pooped on that one as well and heaven help me I just can't bring myself to go see the thing.  I want to support you, Night, but I just don't want to sit there and feel embarrassed for you.

Well, after seeing Devil, I think we've all found the solution for Night's slump.  Think up ideas and then don't write and direct them.  At least not for a while.  The Night Chronicles is a series of films that are based on Night's ideas and given to other writers and directors to bring to life.  It's the first time Night has ever trusted anyone besides himself to bring his vision to life and it's about #$&@ time.  No one clings to the his writer/director status as closely as Mr. Shyamalan and no one (according to Michael Bamberger's unintentionally hilarious book "The Man Who Heard Voices") is as unfriendly to creative input.  Come on, chum!  Everybody's doing the whole creative process thing!  You could like get people together and work as a...team!  How's that crazy idea sound?  Guillermo del Toro does it!  If you do it right you can even have people thinking that you directed a great film that you didn't.  I can't count how many times I've heard "My favorite Guillermo Del Toro movie is The Orphanage."

Anyway, after that long rant, Devil is a great little film.  It does exactly what it sets out to do, deliver a feature-length Twilight Zone episode to chill your blood and make you jump.  I don't generally attend much horror fare, so I may be a little more sensitive than the average moviegoer, but I was thoroughly chilled.  Five people caught in an elevator with Satan is a premise oddly well-suited to my own lifestyle since I work in a downtown office and take elevators every day and I confess my hairs stand on end every time I step into one.

The best thing about this film is it has some heart.  Flat as the characters were, I was very fond of them by the end of the film.  These aren't stupid teenagers who are asking to die.  There's a real sense of good and evil here and the resulting struggles plays out with high stakes.  The film is getting a lot of flak for its religious themes, as if the addition of a religious element into a plot is an automatic cop-out.  But why?  In a film like Devil, thematic complexity would only serve to obscure its thrills, and religious overtones are the perfect notes to hit.  Plus, somebody might actually find it compelling.  I did.  Maybe some moviegoers out there are still religious.  Anyway, it's bad form just to call something stupid because it's 'religious', you need to tell me why those themes fail, not call them dumb just by virtue of what they are.

The thing I liked most about Devil was that it has a lot of heart for a horror movie.  There is a clear enough sense of good and evil throughout that one can actually pity the characters involved.  Pity is a necessary component to fear.  You want them to come out all right, you don't want the bad guy to win.  It's by-the-numbers drama , but after so much nihilism in the movie world we need some reeducation in the basics.

Devil is a good Twilight Zone episode.  I'll be looking forward to the rest of the Night Chronicles and I fully support my dear Night's first venture into the 'producer' role.  Who knows, maybe he'll learn somthing.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Inception

A-





High concept films are in a bad way these days because they are in such high demand. Ever since “Jaws” ramped up to 11 the level of immersion and intensity a B-movie premise could deliver, studios have never dismissed a movie’s potential for Blockbusterdom based solely on a silly premise. The result is that every summer flick that comes out is filmed and marketed as just the most mind-blowing, intense experience you could possibly have even if the movie is stupid. Pirates, superheroes, wizards, aliens, any wackiness could be the next mega-hit and Hollywood will try anything once. Transformers was a numbskull idea, creatively speaking, but it worked well. Take some toys, make them big and realistic-looking and have them romp around several of the world’s urban centers. It’s as silly as Godzilla but the films are injections of pure id. Nobody has time to consider that there wasn’t much of a coherent story. The current Tentpole movie mindset is something akin to a roller-coaster ride: simple premise, heavy experience. It works especially well in tandem with ideas that are already embedded in our cultural consciousness (lately, this has meant all manner of Hasbro and Parker Bros. products. “Battleship” is currently in development). But what happens if you have a really high concept film? One that is just as harrowing as anything Michael Bay could create, but will just stretch your brain doing it. Everybody knows what a Transformer is. Oh, you don’t? Well, it’s a robot that turns into a car. That’s it. Transformers are a safe concept. But what about a dream within a dream? Isn’t this just the kind of artsy weirdness that studios try to avoid? There is nothing existential about a Transformer.

The public responded to Inception. Financially, the film kicked serious butt. Maybe not as serious as a Transformer would, but darn good for an original concept. This throws a bit of a wrench into the studio idea that American moviegoers are dumb. If the vast majority of us are such lowbrows, then how did Inception do so dang well?

(a) The Dark Knight paved the way for success off of Nolan’s name alone?
(b) Inception was a fresh, exhilarating thriller that was excellently executed and harrowing to watch.
(c) American moviegoers are not simpletons, but they are staunchly concrete, and Inception caters perfectly to that sensibility.

The correct answer is ‘all of the above’. This film was very exciting to watch. The action tightens and gains speed and claustrophobia with each successive dip into the recesses of the mind. You’ve probably heard enough about how great this movie is (because it is great), so I’m going to continue on why I do not think it was Nolan’s masterpiece, and how it falls just short of making high concept films actually matter, though it was one of the more valiant attempts.

Inception is a very complicated tale. From the get-go, Nolan is definitely aware that he has some ‘splaining to do, and ‘splain he does. In fact, it takes the entire film to successfully ‘splain what’s going on. No plot thread is left hanging and nothing is left out. Nolan works out his plot with all the deftness and skill of a mathematician, but there is nothing wondrous about a formula. The film has all the right components, a tragic love story, life-threatening peril, crazy action, good philosophical questions, but it’s all ticked off scene-by-scene. Structurally, the film holds its own weight, but there is little beauty to it. It is effective, but is nothing beyond the sum of its own parts.
However, this does work well when catering to a left-brained movie audience. The American public, I maintain, is not stupid, they are concrete. We will eat up a complicated film as long as it makes sense. Complexity is not what turns us off, it is anything left unexplained. We want everything laid out in front of us, connected all together in a sensible pattern. Compared to most films out there, Inception towers like a giant erector set, but all of its pieces fit together. Unfortunately, this is what cripples it from being a true masterpiece. The problem with the public is not that we don’t want to think, it’s that we don’t want to feel. Tentpole films that push us too far in an introspective direction tend not to work by the very fact that we come to the movies as observers wanting to see something interesting and intricate. We don’t ever want to turn the camera in on ourselves and consider who we are and what we are doing. It’s too uncomfortable, and we just don’t have time for all that metaphysical junk. Only a few high concept films have even attempted that project and they didn’t do to well, financially (Blade Runner is the perfect example).

Explaining a premise too much takes away from its “WTF factor”. For anyone who may not know, the “WTF factor” is usually the first few minutes of a high concept movie in which you have no idea what is going on, but whatever is going on is really really cool. Bewildering sequences draw you into the action with no explanation and makes you want to know what’s going on. Inception does kick off this way, but its structure is too similar to The Matrix to be novel and too imbalanced to be cathartic. You can build a dream world and do whatever you want in the dream world if you’re creative enough. There’s even a ‘training’ scene with Leo and Ellen Page that was indistinguishable from Morpheus and Neo’s digital walkabout. In The Matrix, the mystery is unraveled lovingly, teasing you bit by bit by peeling back layers of reality slowly throughout the first half of the film until it totally rams you with the blunt end of what’s really going on. Inception is like a how-to booklet. Characters tell us too much about the world instead of us seeing it for ourselves. This is not the way to create tension. Instead of telling us that you can ‘die’ in the dream under these conditions, or saying “we can’t do that because then this will happen blah blah blah”, make something happen. Show us the thing you’re talking about and leave us to wonder what just happened. Don’t tell us about it. I thought Nolan’s previous “between Batmans” effort The Prestige captured this mysterious spirit more effectively because it left quite a bit of its inner workings behind a curtain of inference and left us to wonder and piece things together for ourselves. The man could use a little J.J. Abrams in him, (the other established ‘high concept’ man out there) who is making, not deep, but good, hearty mainstream entertainment. Abrams always manages to revel in his cinematic world just enough to take us along for the ride but never so much so that we get overwhelmed and tired of the fiction (I’m talking to you, Lucas). Nolan, by contrast, just doesn’t seem to love his flights of fancy. Even The Dark Knight, for all its grandeur felt slightly soulless. His no-nonsense approach is welcome when dealing with a character like Batman, whose story we already know (a story that has been told a hundred times over), but limiting when it comes to all new characters and an original world. We have to fall in love (or in a kind of love) with the dreamworlds of Inception before we can even have the interest in them to discover their inner workings.

The other thing that bothers me is Nolan’s idea of dreams. Leo delivers a brilliant line that sums up his entire approach to his dream sequences: “Dreams feel real while you’re in them. It’s only after you wake up that you notice something was strange.” It’s a compelling idea. We’re so used to dream sequences in films just being random images thrown at the screen, midgets riding by on unicycles and the like. Nolan’s technique is far more subtle. Ellen Page sums it up a little more ham-handedly later on: “You’d think dreams would be all about the visuals, but it’s really all about the feel.” That’s true, and it’s a good idea. It disconnects the viewers from the action when something weird gets thrown at them. The moment a midget on a unicycle rides by, it’s obvious artifice and we’re disconnected from the scene. It’s an admirable task to create a dream sequence that it feels like you’re actually in, rather than just looking at weirdness. But still, I’ve never had a dream that’s even remotely close to any of the dreams depicted. The main problem is the logic. Nolan’s dreams just make too much sense and everybody seems to be perfectly aware that they’re in them. This kind of devalues their quality as dreams. A dream isn’t a fantasy world you make up in your head, it’s a romp through your sub-conscious, a parade of all the nameless feelings and desires that we keep regulated in waking life. Dreams are full of feeling and symbol. My dreams are always illogical but that doesn’t make them feel any less real or make them any less important. I’d cite David Lynch and Michel Gondry as directors that have pulled off the dream sequence remarkably well by purposefully bending logic to create that ‘feely space’ that dreams have. Just because an experience isn’t totally left-brained doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel ‘real’. We humans have a an emotional component to us that defies rationality, and, to us, it’s just as ‘real’ as anything else. But to Nolan, ‘real’ means logical. The love story in this film just wasn’t misty enough, the tragedy is seen but not felt. The drama plays out before a camera lens, not in one’s mind, not in the heart and certainly not like it would in a dream. Nolan just uses dreams like the Wachowskis used computers, to create a space for his characters to play in. On his account, dreams are just virtual reality, and this is a bit too shallow for my tastes. He brings up a few good concepts. I loved the idea that your dream gets stranger the more your attention is drawn to its strangeness. But this facet was left unexplored and didn’t really factor into the plot too much. It would’ve been really cool if the characters were actually affected more by their dreams, like if you’re the dreamer, you can’t know your in the dream or you’ll wake up, so if you’re in someone else’s dream you’d have to keep the dreamer oblivious and then turn around and convince him he’s dreaming. That would’ve been cool, right? Just an idea.

This lack of feeling could be due to Nolan’s disdain for camp, but though this film is anything but cheesy, it tends to come across as overly self-conscious. Everything and everyone is just a little too slick and cool. Contrast this with Blade Runner, a symbol-heavy movie with oodles of commentary on our present age and exploration into the human soul. Ridley Scott, though takes the time to let the atmosphere of his future-world hang heavy over the audience, filling us with foreboding and intensity. We feel the truth before it is spoken. “Quite an experience living in fear, isn’t it? That’s what it is to be a slave.” By the time Rutger Hauer says this at the end of the film, we’ve been under Scott’s paranoid spell for so long that we believe what is being said. Nolan’s mood was a bit too spartan to reach that level of profundity, but this is not to say the film’s questions are irrelevant. Inception is about a different kind of paranoia, that of the mind. Am I who I think I am? Am I doing what I’m supposed to be doing? are questions that are particularly timely in our age, and in that respect I think the film is very important. There is a sense in which the modern man, like Leo, is always just beyond his own reach. One has to go deeper and deeper through layers and layers of awareness to actually get to the bottom of who one really is and be sure that your life is what it’s supposed to be, to really find your home. It’s like turning a mirror in on itself. You can chase your own reflection for eternity, but you’ll only end up wasting yourself. You’ll end up an old man lost in an endless limbo with nothing but your paranoia. Then there’s the interesting theory on ‘pure creation’ as a paradoxical loop. It puts forth the idea that creativity is just self-reference between different planes of consciousness and meaning and purpose are just memories of other selves. A compelling (if depressing) idea.

Ultimately, Inception is as darned close as anybody’s come in recent years to a return to Kubrickian high concept that uses a fantastical premise to communicate messages that we earthlings need to hear and truths that we need to experience. Unfortunately, Nolan became too preoccupied making sure his ship could float that he sacrificed any ambitions of his work really soaring into the clouds of true profundity. Nolan has big ideas and even bigger concepts. Here’s hoping he’ll trust his own creations a bit more next time around and give us a real trip through our minds that will engage our souls as well.


Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World

B+



Ever since 'Sin City', I've been waiting breathlessly for the film that will truly transport the experience of reading a comic book to film. Actually, that doesn't quite get at it. I mean the film that will reinvigorate a sense of rich spectacle into mainstream films. Movies just aren't pretty anymore. There is so much style and artistry that can be employed with today's special effects technology, but instead we're making more spaceships. Special effects can be used to create an environment and be itself a vehicle for meaning rather than just elaborate set dressing and comic movies are at the forefront of injecting some much needed style and symbolism into the faux grittiness of the handheld camera action scene.

Long story short, I'm still waiting. Scott Pilgrim is a fun movie, but it lacks the emotional punch to make it a truly great film. The story has so much potential, but Wright increases his comic action while decreasing his characters at an increasing rate as the film goes on. This is not the way the story progresses in the comics. Bryan Lee O'Mally's clever little picture-books read like the doodles you used to draw in the margins of your notebooks in junior high. Simple lines sketch out cartoon characters that become increasingly more complex as the story progresses. Its surrealism gives way to real dilemmas and predicaments at times and its drama is centered squarely around the destinies of two lovers and whether or not they're really star-crossed. Somehow, Wright misses the heart of the books while remaining true to their style.

The film is brilliantly made. Its comic visuals are the best yet. The first 30 minutes plays out almost frame for frame with the comics, but as it goes on there is just so much craziness that is packed in. Real life takes a backseat as set-piece after set-piece is thrown at you in a dizzying haze of quick cuts and whimsical special effects. The movie is an easter egg basket, a feast for the eyes, but it lacks emotional glue. The premise is no less compelling but at about the 45 minute mark the pinata bursts and the film's visuals pour out over you like a deluge of brightly-wrapped candies. The first few boyfriend encounters work well metaphorically speaking and begin the process of slyly commenting on the characters and their conflicts, but the film gains pace exponentially until there is no time for a quiet moment and Scott and Ramona's love is left to skate on the idea of the original setup rather than building to any kind of payoff.

Still, it's nonstop hilarity and the visuals are like nothing ever before filmed. I also can't say enough about the editing. It's just staggeringly impressive at what Wright can accomplish and I can't even imagine how many separate shots make up this film. The action scenes are really really fun and the film has a lot more intelligence than much of the other junk that has banked at the box office. It's smarter than your average popcorner, but falls just short of being a masterpiece. This is surprising since Wright has proven himself to be a master of weaving in genre comedy with real emotion and self-aware commentary (if you haven't seen Shaun of the Dead, watch it now). I can't think of a more perfect director to handle Scott Pilgrim, but Scott Pilgrim lacks structure and craft. Shaun of the Dead was an extended metaphor, a coming-of-age story by way of zombie apocalypse. Scott Pilgrim is a love story by way of videogame, but it lacks the structure and parallelism that caused the former to be such surprisingly meaningful comedy. Another example of this is The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, a similar, smart genre comedy with some great whimsy and a solid emotional center that solidifies in one simple scene at the very end, when Martin Freeman monologues about the purpose of his life and his dedication to his true love just before his brain is about to be drilled by two megalomaniacal mice. It's an insane bit of cinema but it tugs at the heartstrings in a surprising and fresh way. Scott Pilgrim could have used a scene like this. Where the action dies down for just a moment and our hero gets the chance to say what all of this really means.

Still, I'm sickened that this film did so poorly at the box office. It only pushes the disturbing reality that moviegoers these days are hopelessly concrete. Our flights of fancy must always be hedged in by logic. We won't allow any room for disbelief; realism must rule the day. Personally, I think the world would be a safer place if we drew such a clear line between reality and fiction as Scott Pilgrim. The violence in this film is not even remotely imitatable and a strong current of whimsy pervades. It comes admirably close at putting comic films squarely into the mainstream, but its financial failure is quite depressing in that respect. Someday, true believers, someday.