Scottish Noir-Grime and The Red Road Experience

Red Road (2006) continues in the tradition of Trainspotting (1996) and Shallow Grave (1994), as showing Scotland as a very dark and grimy, industrialized land. In recent years this portrayal, has almost spawned a genre of its own. All these films utilize, noiresque cinematic techniques to achieve the feel of a dark city full of questionable hooligans. 

Red Road does a specifically good job with its look.  The footage is far from plainly dark and shadowy. Quite to the contrary, the cinematographer uses a huge pallet of deep unsaturated color to create the effect of darkness and shadow. 

Many instances of color, and cinematic variation occur as we peek with the main character through the CCTV monitors. They prove a great device to add visual effect, and constantly remind the audience of the voyeuristic themes amok. Also, the industrialized landscape provides a tremendous variety of fluorescent glow, which bathes the land. Red Road is Visually stunning to say the least. 

Unfortunately, the writing of the story ruins everything.  The failure of the character's development, despite the length of the film, is nearly intolerable. In retrospect it is this which makes, the equally poor ending, seem even more ridiculous.

A Nuance Packed Trip Behind The Iron Curtain

12:08: East of Bucharest (2006), the latest to hail hail from a growing Romanian film economy, is simply shot, dry as a bone, but so packed with meaningful residue that even the coldest cynic would be moved. The film hits late, but none the less like a ton of emotional bricks, falling from the Berlin Wall.

The dark, somewhat misanthropic inhabitants, of a small Romanian town display the kind of personality it took to exist behind the iron curtain. The awkward comedy that oozes from them, is lent to by a total-since of the absurd. They are parodies of people, and they know it. They seem to act in a way things should be, rather than the way they are. Their fiber is in essence the conflict between progress, and the regret of those who got left behind. 

The town itself is as frigid, and bleak as it's dwellers, but like them it also bears nuance of  emotion. It comes across as  a place of nostalgia, but also forgotten abandon. The grey concrete is bitter, for it too has seen better days, even in the hardest of times. 

The film moves dreadfully slow, one scene taking over thirty minutes, but 12:08: East Bucharest is not a film of instant gratification. It is a film that rewards patience. But for those who make it, the aftertaste is remarkably profound. Not a bad movie for Christmastime.

The Darkness of The Human Spirit and The Page Turner (2006)

Denis Decourt's, Page Turner is a vivid study in the darkness or vileness of the human spirit. As I was watching the film, I was continually reminded of Kieslowski's Decalogue: Five, another exploration into the darkness, which sometimes empowers us. Both films show in excessively lucid manners, the gruesomeness of revenge. In the Page Turner, Melonie's destructive actions, though not as physically violent, as the protagonist in Decologue Five's, are just as damaging.

The Film leaves us with hints of the extent of the premeditation, of Melonie's actions, but is never made extraordinarily clear. The result, as in Kieslowski's piece, is a mediation on what the breaking point of the human spirit is, and to what extent/for what reason's an individual's destructive tendencies are unleashed. Don't let the title fool you, The Page Turner is almost bestial in its darkness.

Renaissance (2006) An Exercise in Unfulfilled Anticipation

I was thrilled, as I always am, when I saw a feature length, animated Sci-Fi piece, and from France on top of it all. But this film falls into the same operation as most modern Sci-Fi films, creating a genre of unfulfilled potential. The state of Sci-Fi, as seen by this enthusiast, is sad to say the least. I blame the following sectors of deficiency. Writers have very little success in character, or even plot development. For instance, recent releases such as Danny Boyle's, Sunshine (2007), make no strides for heightened character development, and do little outstanding, but fall into the rhetoric of previous Sci-Fi disappointments. Also special effects, are like a bad batch of peyote on a director's mind. Never is this more evident, than in the last installments of Star Wars, where Lucas became illiterate, and turned to the crutch of ILM to make up for his lack of storytelling will-power. Finally, there is a lack of thematic depth, which is a result of catering to American audiences. This is both the fault of big-shot producers, and fans who are willing to accept such festering, worthlessness. It is sad when one child's fantasy movie, has more thematic wealth than the majority of an entire genre. Take for instance, Cauron's latest interpretation of the P.D. James novel, "Children of Men". Cauron could have redeemed an oddly chauvinistic text by making any of the female characters a protagonist. Though the novel itself does the same, it is interesting that a novel about the ability to birth children, where the last hope for the world is a pregnant woman, would bear the title of Children of Men. Also, throughout the film, chauvinistic values are reified by the weakness of female characters, and their need for protection. Just occasionally, it would be nice to see some thematic conventions broken in a genre, which at one point was so centered on defiance.

With that said, Renaissance (2006), falls into all the pitfalls of this genre of disappointment. It's plot and characters are weak, underdeveloped, and flat. The animation is no more than a crutch for lack of story telling skills, and the thematic river bed, might as well be a dessert. I would love to have enjoyed this film as something other than visually stunning, but I was disappointed, and unable to do so. 

Experienced-Documentarian Defines Contemporary Role of the American Star

I must admit I was apprehensive about going into a documentary about the Dixie Chicks, despite highly revered Kopple's authorship. I was pleasantly surprised. The piece is vastly more complex than the generic bio-pic I feared. 

"Shut Up and Sing" turns out to be a deep exploration into what constitutes a star in America, and what roles such figures are allowed to play. The country/pop phenomena evoke such rage from their audience so fast, it is truly mind-boggling, all over a single comment. 

My only complaint is one I wage against most feature-length documentaries. After the hour and ten minute mark, they begin to drag.  The film, in my opinion, would do better by sticking to the hour marker. A tighter, more lean film would get the point across stronger, show off Kopple's skill even more, and most importantly, not be so damn repetitive. 

 

Elements Of The Novel in Little Children

Todd Field's latest film feels like reading a good novel. It's the kind of movie that makes you want to find a comfy chair and batten down all the hatches. The character driven plot, pervasive, omniscient narration, and subtle cinematography all work to create the film's  book-like aura.


Telling the story in this manner is an interesting decision for Field. Placing such emphasis on the characters puts a large amount of pressure on the actors to convincingly carry the plot. Luckily, Field's choices prevailed, and played the parts with stunning realism. They do an excellent job of pulling the story along and, never once does Little Children drag or idle.

Also interesting is Field's choice for narration. At first it feels very odd, a booming, god-like omniscient voice. But I believe this is simply because it is not a favored custom in contemporary mainstream cinema. The narration eventually proves to be very helpful in revealing nuances of the characters, Field leaves as buried treasure. In addition, his choice of narration comes across as very literary. This definately ads to the novel-like essence. 

Japanese Minimalism and Tony Takitani

Tony Takitani (2004) reads like the most delicate of Haiku. This is due to both its short run time, almost poetic meter, and open ended meditative stile. It is also drastically minimalist in style, with an almost architectural feal. The film eliminates all the fluff, both visually and thematically. Colors are drastically muted, and camera movement remains steady, feeling subdued throughout the entire film. Simultaneously, the thematic elements of the film mimic this. There is no extra information, no gratifying closure, just a plain structure. Takitani is all node and no satellite. The result is a stripped down story, which like Kurosawa's epic Rashamon (1950) leaves the viewer with the final interpretation. This utter austere environment works for the film because it so perfectly embodies its protagonist's essence.

This perhaps is the film's only strong down point. The continuously sulking Tony does sometimes come off as plain old emo. The result is the protagonist coming across as whiny. It makes the connection between the viewers and characters brittle. However, the exercise in style, and restraint make the film well worth an hour and some change.