Never Let Me Go is a huge step forward for director Mark Romanek. A visual genius, Romanek lacked a deep, compelling story with his debut, One Hour Photo. But eight years later he puts his visual expertise to more substantive fare with a densely layered story “about the hopes of the hopeless that make the world’s heart beat one minute longer.” This is not a science fiction film nor is it strictly a drama. It’s a moody chamber piece; a Bergmanesque melodrama set in an alternate existence. Characters know their place and accept their roles, but their humanity leaves them tormented nonetheless. Never Let Me Go points direct sunlight into the human condition and does so with unvarnished compassion at the struggle we all face – what is it to live? What is it to achieve?
I love how the usual contrivances are left out and even ignored in this film; silly irrelevances that would make it a mere “science fiction” film. The shallow questions that do nothing but divert attention away from what the story is really about – “What are the rules?”, “Why don’t they try to escape?”, “How did this happen?”, “Who’s in charge?”, “What does everyone else think?”. We can gather that people have tried to escape, people have tried to figure out the truth, but this is all inconsequential to this story. This is a specific piece about these three characters. In fact, it’s really a story about one character and the two people around her. And I love that! I love how it doesn’t fall into silly clichés – it defies our expectations over what a film like this should be. The characters are so sharply drawn and the triangle between them so expertly crafted. We know that Kathy and Tommy have a connection. We know they are meant to be together. We feel it. We don’t need to see the explosives. We don’t need to hear the dialogue of the two girls battling for his affection. By the time we get to that scene at the beach, when Ruth apologizes for effectively coming between them, she’s just reiterating what we’ve always known. She doesn’t even NEED to explain her intentions (even though she does) because they’re obvious. Of course she was jealous! Of course she was afraid of being alone! The beauty is the acceptance of the truth, the acceptance of the situation. There is no need to fight it because there is nothing to fight.
Never Let Me Go knows what the audience is thinking but refuses to succumb to their expectations. It assumes we know the ethical dilemmas presented in the world that the film has created but it leaves it at that. Instead, it focuses on the characters, these three people. Everything that is outside of themselves is left out. This is why I equate it to a chamber piece. There are no court room arguments; there are no discussions about morality. No, we get that. We’ve seen that before. This is a film about these three people who live in the world that has been created. It’s about what it means to them. Never is this more explicit than the scene with the boat on the beach. Tommy is like a kid again, running up to the boat and playing on it like this was his oasis, his paradise. This amplified jubilation symbolizes everything in his life and it is very deliberate on Romanek's part to keep the women at bay. The two women stay in the dunes while he has this time of emotional catharsis. Why? Because he needs it. Because he is the captain of his own ship and even if it has run aground, even if it will sink, it is his own. Later in this scene, Ruth gives him a chance to live again and yes, there is tragedy in their inevitable fate but for this moment, Tommy and Kathy are given a chance.
There is a scene at the end of Never Let Me Go that perfectly encapsulates everything that is brilliant about this film. Tommy (Andrew Garfield) and Kathy (Carey Mulligan) have found the woman who will give them a deferral. Rumor has it that if two people are in love they can put off becoming a donor, effectively extending their life. It’s a two shot of Garfield and Mulligan sitting on a couch, talking to this woman – Mulligan, the calm “caretaker” is sitting back while Garfield, the innocent, more emotional one is leaning forward, pleading their case. The shot, though a two shot, is on a long lens thereby crushing the depth of field. This is not done by chance and definitely not simply an aesthetic choice – no, because the focus is so shallow and the characters are on different focal planes, one of them has to be soft. Both of the actors, given their seat positions, cannot both be in focus.
Why is this important? What does the subtlety of focus have to do with the story being told? Because it forces us to see who is important here. In the hands of a lesser director, both actors would be in focus or they’d cut to a single to highlight one character. But Romanek does something better. He gives us both actors but only one is sharply in focus. And the decision to put Garfield in focus says as much about the importance of his character as it does about Mulligan’s character, who sits back “in the shadows.” When the news is given, when the revelation is provided, Tommy is bewildered. It’s like he can’t comprehend what is being told to him because in effect, hope is being taken from him. This is his moment of realization at what his life is meant for – and ONLY meant for. It’s like learning what the meaning of life is and not liking it.
For Kathy, this is not an a-ha! moment. And in fact, though she is not the focus, make no mistake, this is HER scene. She is our protagonist and her reaction says everything about her character. This scene confirms what she’s always felt. She comes here with hope, which was given to her by Ruth (Keira Knightley), but it’s a hope that she suspects is false. It’s a hope that she pursues because it’s the first time she’s ever felt possibility. This is her arc. This is her journey and giving herself this moment, even if it becomes a disappointment, is what the film is about. It’s about the hopeless finding hope in the impossible. And by keeping her slightly out of focus, she is in essence giving the moment to him. This says everything about her character, which is consistent throughout the whole film – that she is a caretaker. That she is the selfless one. She is the only one out of the three that is who she is meant to be. She is the only one who accepts the life she has been given. Ruth fights it; she tries to cheat it by not being alone but by the end is remorseful. Tommy fights it out of frustration and emotional helplessness and that’s why this scene becomes his moment of truth. But for Kathy, she is our restrained, solid rock. She is our eyes and ears. And in the end, though she suffers the same fate, she overcomes where the other two failed. There is a sense of hope that she is left with. There is a sense that in spite of it all, she was able to see the forest from the trees and appreciate what she had been given, instead of consumed by what has been taken away.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Monday, September 6, 2010
Goodbye, Mr. Butterfly
There’s a scene in the second act of The American that becomes the turning point for our protagonist. Jack (or Edward) is sitting in a coffee shop reading the newspaper when Clara, the prostitute he has been frequenting, walks by with a friend. She spots him, taps on the window smiling, and goes inside to greet him. This is a chance encounter, not a meeting, and could only plausibly take place in a small Italian village where everyone knows everyone. But Jack, who has been conditioned to be suspicious of everyone, doesn’t believe in coincidences.
An Italian woman’s beauty should never be taken for granted and even against the ruthlessness of Clooney’s assassin, he is vulnerable to her charm. And while he never quite trusts her, he is on the backend of his professional life and wants to trust somebody. He’s spent a lifetime not getting close to people – as his handler, Pavel, says in the beginning, “Don’t make friends. You used to know that.” This reveals everything about the character; at one point he was impenetrable, a machine incapable of a false move. But that armor is waning, indicated in the opening scene of the film when he kills a woman he made the mistake of getting too close to. You see this conflict revealed between the man and his profession. What we don’t know yet is that the man is his profession, that there is no getting away from what he has become. This conflict is shown once he arrives in the Italian village. He befriends a priest and a prostitute, two of the least likely people that would betray him. He is still suspicious, especially of the prostitute, but it is apparent his desire for human connection won’t be ignored.
Thus we come to the scene in the coffee shop, where Clara the prostitute introduces Jack to her friend, who is studying English and wants to go to America. This is the first time we see Clara outside the brothel and by introducing Jack to her private life, she signifies to him that he is more than just a client. She tells him she is free later and he initially suggests they meet at their “usual spot.” But she plays coy, intimating that this is not an offer for her services but rather an invitation for something more. Jack has seen this before and believes everyone has ulterior motives, especially young beautiful women. But instead of stepping back, instead of retreating as he might’ve five years ago, he accepts her invitation. This becomes a pivotal moment in the story because he makes the choice to ignore Pavel’s warning and put himself at risk. Why? Why does he risk repeating what happened in Sweden? Because the isolation of the lone samurai is suffocating.
Everything after the coffee shop scene reveals he is done with his past life. The only time we see Jack smile are subsequent scenes with Clara, where there rests this possibility at redemption. At that moment he might as well have told Pavel that he’s quitting. The only thing he must confirm is her innocence. This duality is ever present, where Jack battles the assassin that he was against the man he wants to be. Once he confirms Clara’s innocence, once she has proven her sincerity, he thinks he can let go of his previous life.
What I love about this movie is that it takes a familiar genre, takes a predictable plot, and completely makes it about how the story is told, rather that what the story is. Of course we've seen this before. Of course we know the outcome. That's not the point! The point is the refreshing new way in which Anton Corbijn tackles this familiar character. It's the ultimate example of a film where style is the substance. And boy, what substance it is. The methodical detail, the consistency in tone, the assured pacing - it's masterful, confident filmmaking. We know so much about this character just by the way he behaves. He doesn't need to say anything because it is all shown. We feel his loneliness, we understand his inability to trust anyone. This character is similar to the characters Clooney has played before, most notably in Up in the Air and Michael Clayton. These are lonely, detached men who create a world of isolation for themselves as a means of protection. I'm reminded of the Paul Simon lyric, "I am a rock, I am an island. And a rock feels no pain. And an island never cries." These men put up a wall as a means of defense but at some point it becomes unfulfilling. It's a cynical outlook of course because for all three of these characters, there's a lack of hope. There is a resignation they all come to, where they have reached a point of no return and the only thing left is the achievement of their pursuits. Once achieved, there is nothing else. There is no going back. There is no getting off the island.
There has been some question as to when Jack knew he was being set up. After he takes Matilde to the woods to test the gun he’s made for her, she calls him Mr. Butterfly. There is some significance to this and the use of the butterfly as a symbol is present throughout the film. There is the butterfly tattoo on Jack’s back. When Matilde and Jack first arrive in the woods, there is a shot of a white butterfly perched on a leaf as the car drives up to the stream. This butterfly would return in the last shot of the film, flying into the trees as the film cuts to black. What does all this mean? I can’t say for sure. But I do know the reveal of her true intentions lie in her calling him Mr. Butterfly.
At the time, he recognizes it immediately. There is a shot of his reaction to her calling him Mr. Butterfly, a realization that she is not to be trusted. The following scene is of him altering the bullets, filing off the tips and melding new tips. What is the purpose of this? We know they’ve already completed the test of the gun and she has instructed him with very specific adjustments, none of which involved altering the bullets. So we are left to assume he’s doing this on his own and it is only after we reach the conclusion that we realize what he was doing.
After that meeting with Matilde, Jack realizes Pavel has been guilty all along. Pavel has been telling the Swedes of his location, Pavel has sent Matilde to kill him. So then the question becomes about Clara – is she involved? The old Jack would drop everything and leave. The old Jack would probably have killed Clara, just to be sure. But he’s not the assassin he once was. He wants to believe Clara loves him. This is why he asks Pavel for two more days – to find out if he can leave with her.
One of my favorite scenes in the film is at the end, during the exchange of the gun. Pavel has been told by Jack that he is quitting and so he instructs Matilde that it is imperative to kill him immediately. The meeting is set up so eloquently, so precisely, that both parties know exactly what is going on. In a cruel bit of irony, I love how Jack packs the faulty bullets in a candy container, “I thought you’d like some candy.” When Matilde gets up to go to the restroom, Jack is on full alert. The waitress and two other patrons in the restaurant exit, as if they know exactly what is about to happen. Do they? Are they part of the grand scheme? Or is Jack being overly paranoid? In the end, it doesn’t really matter and I think it’s more for our benefit than for Jack’s, a sort of ode to scenes from movies that have that kind of setup suspense. By the time she returns, he walking out the door, hand in pocket. Do we need a close up of his pocket, indicating he’s holding a gun? Of course not. We know what’s going on. She knows what’s going on – all she needs to do is dismiss it, “You don’t need a gun.” The key to the scene, which is a kind of concealed, passive aggressive Mexican standoff, is not when the bus pulls up. The key is later, when Matilde gets in her car and says, “Goodbye Mr. Butterfly”, essentially admitting her mistake earlier in the film.
An Italian woman’s beauty should never be taken for granted and even against the ruthlessness of Clooney’s assassin, he is vulnerable to her charm. And while he never quite trusts her, he is on the backend of his professional life and wants to trust somebody. He’s spent a lifetime not getting close to people – as his handler, Pavel, says in the beginning, “Don’t make friends. You used to know that.” This reveals everything about the character; at one point he was impenetrable, a machine incapable of a false move. But that armor is waning, indicated in the opening scene of the film when he kills a woman he made the mistake of getting too close to. You see this conflict revealed between the man and his profession. What we don’t know yet is that the man is his profession, that there is no getting away from what he has become. This conflict is shown once he arrives in the Italian village. He befriends a priest and a prostitute, two of the least likely people that would betray him. He is still suspicious, especially of the prostitute, but it is apparent his desire for human connection won’t be ignored.
Thus we come to the scene in the coffee shop, where Clara the prostitute introduces Jack to her friend, who is studying English and wants to go to America. This is the first time we see Clara outside the brothel and by introducing Jack to her private life, she signifies to him that he is more than just a client. She tells him she is free later and he initially suggests they meet at their “usual spot.” But she plays coy, intimating that this is not an offer for her services but rather an invitation for something more. Jack has seen this before and believes everyone has ulterior motives, especially young beautiful women. But instead of stepping back, instead of retreating as he might’ve five years ago, he accepts her invitation. This becomes a pivotal moment in the story because he makes the choice to ignore Pavel’s warning and put himself at risk. Why? Why does he risk repeating what happened in Sweden? Because the isolation of the lone samurai is suffocating.
Everything after the coffee shop scene reveals he is done with his past life. The only time we see Jack smile are subsequent scenes with Clara, where there rests this possibility at redemption. At that moment he might as well have told Pavel that he’s quitting. The only thing he must confirm is her innocence. This duality is ever present, where Jack battles the assassin that he was against the man he wants to be. Once he confirms Clara’s innocence, once she has proven her sincerity, he thinks he can let go of his previous life.
What I love about this movie is that it takes a familiar genre, takes a predictable plot, and completely makes it about how the story is told, rather that what the story is. Of course we've seen this before. Of course we know the outcome. That's not the point! The point is the refreshing new way in which Anton Corbijn tackles this familiar character. It's the ultimate example of a film where style is the substance. And boy, what substance it is. The methodical detail, the consistency in tone, the assured pacing - it's masterful, confident filmmaking. We know so much about this character just by the way he behaves. He doesn't need to say anything because it is all shown. We feel his loneliness, we understand his inability to trust anyone. This character is similar to the characters Clooney has played before, most notably in Up in the Air and Michael Clayton. These are lonely, detached men who create a world of isolation for themselves as a means of protection. I'm reminded of the Paul Simon lyric, "I am a rock, I am an island. And a rock feels no pain. And an island never cries." These men put up a wall as a means of defense but at some point it becomes unfulfilling. It's a cynical outlook of course because for all three of these characters, there's a lack of hope. There is a resignation they all come to, where they have reached a point of no return and the only thing left is the achievement of their pursuits. Once achieved, there is nothing else. There is no going back. There is no getting off the island.
There has been some question as to when Jack knew he was being set up. After he takes Matilde to the woods to test the gun he’s made for her, she calls him Mr. Butterfly. There is some significance to this and the use of the butterfly as a symbol is present throughout the film. There is the butterfly tattoo on Jack’s back. When Matilde and Jack first arrive in the woods, there is a shot of a white butterfly perched on a leaf as the car drives up to the stream. This butterfly would return in the last shot of the film, flying into the trees as the film cuts to black. What does all this mean? I can’t say for sure. But I do know the reveal of her true intentions lie in her calling him Mr. Butterfly.
At the time, he recognizes it immediately. There is a shot of his reaction to her calling him Mr. Butterfly, a realization that she is not to be trusted. The following scene is of him altering the bullets, filing off the tips and melding new tips. What is the purpose of this? We know they’ve already completed the test of the gun and she has instructed him with very specific adjustments, none of which involved altering the bullets. So we are left to assume he’s doing this on his own and it is only after we reach the conclusion that we realize what he was doing.
After that meeting with Matilde, Jack realizes Pavel has been guilty all along. Pavel has been telling the Swedes of his location, Pavel has sent Matilde to kill him. So then the question becomes about Clara – is she involved? The old Jack would drop everything and leave. The old Jack would probably have killed Clara, just to be sure. But he’s not the assassin he once was. He wants to believe Clara loves him. This is why he asks Pavel for two more days – to find out if he can leave with her.
One of my favorite scenes in the film is at the end, during the exchange of the gun. Pavel has been told by Jack that he is quitting and so he instructs Matilde that it is imperative to kill him immediately. The meeting is set up so eloquently, so precisely, that both parties know exactly what is going on. In a cruel bit of irony, I love how Jack packs the faulty bullets in a candy container, “I thought you’d like some candy.” When Matilde gets up to go to the restroom, Jack is on full alert. The waitress and two other patrons in the restaurant exit, as if they know exactly what is about to happen. Do they? Are they part of the grand scheme? Or is Jack being overly paranoid? In the end, it doesn’t really matter and I think it’s more for our benefit than for Jack’s, a sort of ode to scenes from movies that have that kind of setup suspense. By the time she returns, he walking out the door, hand in pocket. Do we need a close up of his pocket, indicating he’s holding a gun? Of course not. We know what’s going on. She knows what’s going on – all she needs to do is dismiss it, “You don’t need a gun.” The key to the scene, which is a kind of concealed, passive aggressive Mexican standoff, is not when the bus pulls up. The key is later, when Matilde gets in her car and says, “Goodbye Mr. Butterfly”, essentially admitting her mistake earlier in the film.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Hollywood: The Business of Illiteracy
I have a theory that the studios that produce films in Hollywood have a very specific goal. Yes, it's to stay in business. Yes, it's to make money. But HOW do they stay in business? How do they ensure a healthy profit margin? If you compare cinema from around the world with cinema from Hollywood, one thing is clear: sameness sells. The studio system (and yes, the "system" is still very much alive and well) is based on creating entertainment that keeps people coming back - like the tobacco industry infusing their cigarettes with addictive nicotine, since we all know without the nicotine, smoking would be much easier to kick. And the only way to keep audiences coming back is to program them to believe certain things, to instill specific expectations so that the viewer is cajoled into a false sense of security. By giving audiences a level of predictability, they know what they're getting when they walk into a movie theater and leave fully satisfied so long as those specific expectations are met.
I don't believe people like to be provoked, I don't believe people like to be pushed when they go to the movies. American audiences have come to believe entertainment is synonymous with indolence. They don't want to think, they don't want to be reminded of their world, their troubles, their reality. They want to escape and they want to escape to a place they know, like an old pair of shoes that they can take comfort in.
Production companies take advantage of this American affliction (or should I say, disease) because it reduces their risk at profits. If a studio can make film after film knowing an audience will embrace it, then the studio will do everything it can to keep that conveyor belt going. It will do everything it can to support the affliction that the audience is suffering from. Because why would a studio want to do anything otherwise? If it can produce film after film following the same format, the same formula, with consistent returns, then who can blame them?
Well, I blame them. It's not elitism to say the masses are ignorant. It's not snobbism to point out the Kool-Aid they're drinking and say "wake up!" It's not out of line to point out narrative expectations that define the quality of a film as complete bullshit. It's not wrong to defend the importance of this art form and remind people of the bubble they live in. Outside of this country, where cinema isn't at the level of "busines" that it is in Hollywood, remarkable works of art are being created. And Americans are getting left out! Americans are missing so much because the propanda they are fed has limited their palate to the point where they can't enjoy all the rich textures being created throughout the world. This is a crime! The public deserves the full experience cinema can provide! People talk about how some foreign films can't be remade in the US because American audiences couldn't handle the material. While I agree with that, I don't blame the public for being stupid. I blame the studios for brainwashing the masses into paralysis. I blame propaganda for beating the public into such submission that they are incapable of ingesting anything except what they have been programmed. What a sad state of affairs cinema must be in for such a comment to exist. What a devastating decline in taste we have suffered, to the point where fast food is not only the only food we eat but the only food we accept to exist.
When I hear people criticize a film as "boring" what it usually means is that they don't get it or they were confused. We are fed the belief that confusion is bad, uncertainty is the enemy. We are fed the notion that if things aren't easily explained then they aren't worth explaining. But are we that lazy? Are we so stunted that any activity from our brain cells sets off the alarms? Are people outside this country so much more enlightened? I don't think so. I admit that with other forms of art, I can be just as anti-intelligencia as the next guy. I'd much rather sit down with a John Grisham novel than with a Tolstoy manifesto. But I'd like to think Americans are just as intelligent as anyone else. I'd like to think Americans are capable of comprehending even the most difficult ruminations. But we just need to be given the chance. We need to wake up from our hypnotized state and question our expectations. Why am I thinking this movie is boring? Why do I love the way this story is told? If we analyze our impressions we can get beyond the state of denial we all seem to be in. If we look at a piece of art and try to understand the artist's intentions we might better open ourselves to receive the many gifts creativity can bring us.
It is my belief that people don't like surprises and they don't like watching a movie that is unpredictable. Audiences like familiarity, especially when they go to a movie to escape. But I contend that there are other mediums you could use to escape; cinema is too great, too powerful to be wasted on such triviality. As Sean Penn once said, "If you want entertainment get yourself a couple hookers and an eight ball." Cinema should provoke, should inspire; cinema should make you think about the world around you and make you feel for the human condition.
I love films that take me to places I never imagined. I love films that keep me guessing because that's what life is - a big bowl of unpredictability! To me, sameness is boring, predictability breeds complacency. I don't care how many explosions there are, if I know where the story is going then I'm going to be bored. Recently I watched a French horror film called "Martyrs". It wasn't a great film but it was different. It aspired to be something more than just another disposable piece of cinema meant to sell popcorn. It was thought-provoking and it did go in directions I never expected; for that I give it props. I wish more films did that, even mediocre fare like "Martyrs" which is only worth mentioning because the bar for the genre is set so low. In a perfect artistic world, "Martyrs" would be at the bottom of the pile, where originality was common. Unfortunately, we live in a system where originality does get noticed because it's so uncommon, regardless of the quality.
Am I an asshole? Are my expectations too high? Can't a society choose to define cinema in strictly narrow terms without being labeled ignorant or brainwashed? Don't people have the right to believe what they want to believe? Yes, I suppose they do. Ignorance is bliss and nobody should be forced to be literate. Lobotomies are a dime a dozen and if the lemmings want to march off the cliff, that's their business. The problem is that these lemmings are marching cinema off the cliff with them. The destruction of the art form rests solely on the system that is barraging the marketplace with gunk labeled as class. And that's not right. Call me condescending but I refuse to accept the masses' assessment. I refuse to look at cinema from such a narrow scope when I know it's reach is deep and meaningful. The bumper sticker "Question Authority" is apt here. We should constantly be assessing our own beliefs and searching for better answers instead of accepting the world that has been given to us.
I don't believe people like to be provoked, I don't believe people like to be pushed when they go to the movies. American audiences have come to believe entertainment is synonymous with indolence. They don't want to think, they don't want to be reminded of their world, their troubles, their reality. They want to escape and they want to escape to a place they know, like an old pair of shoes that they can take comfort in.
Production companies take advantage of this American affliction (or should I say, disease) because it reduces their risk at profits. If a studio can make film after film knowing an audience will embrace it, then the studio will do everything it can to keep that conveyor belt going. It will do everything it can to support the affliction that the audience is suffering from. Because why would a studio want to do anything otherwise? If it can produce film after film following the same format, the same formula, with consistent returns, then who can blame them?
Well, I blame them. It's not elitism to say the masses are ignorant. It's not snobbism to point out the Kool-Aid they're drinking and say "wake up!" It's not out of line to point out narrative expectations that define the quality of a film as complete bullshit. It's not wrong to defend the importance of this art form and remind people of the bubble they live in. Outside of this country, where cinema isn't at the level of "busines" that it is in Hollywood, remarkable works of art are being created. And Americans are getting left out! Americans are missing so much because the propanda they are fed has limited their palate to the point where they can't enjoy all the rich textures being created throughout the world. This is a crime! The public deserves the full experience cinema can provide! People talk about how some foreign films can't be remade in the US because American audiences couldn't handle the material. While I agree with that, I don't blame the public for being stupid. I blame the studios for brainwashing the masses into paralysis. I blame propaganda for beating the public into such submission that they are incapable of ingesting anything except what they have been programmed. What a sad state of affairs cinema must be in for such a comment to exist. What a devastating decline in taste we have suffered, to the point where fast food is not only the only food we eat but the only food we accept to exist.
When I hear people criticize a film as "boring" what it usually means is that they don't get it or they were confused. We are fed the belief that confusion is bad, uncertainty is the enemy. We are fed the notion that if things aren't easily explained then they aren't worth explaining. But are we that lazy? Are we so stunted that any activity from our brain cells sets off the alarms? Are people outside this country so much more enlightened? I don't think so. I admit that with other forms of art, I can be just as anti-intelligencia as the next guy. I'd much rather sit down with a John Grisham novel than with a Tolstoy manifesto. But I'd like to think Americans are just as intelligent as anyone else. I'd like to think Americans are capable of comprehending even the most difficult ruminations. But we just need to be given the chance. We need to wake up from our hypnotized state and question our expectations. Why am I thinking this movie is boring? Why do I love the way this story is told? If we analyze our impressions we can get beyond the state of denial we all seem to be in. If we look at a piece of art and try to understand the artist's intentions we might better open ourselves to receive the many gifts creativity can bring us.
It is my belief that people don't like surprises and they don't like watching a movie that is unpredictable. Audiences like familiarity, especially when they go to a movie to escape. But I contend that there are other mediums you could use to escape; cinema is too great, too powerful to be wasted on such triviality. As Sean Penn once said, "If you want entertainment get yourself a couple hookers and an eight ball." Cinema should provoke, should inspire; cinema should make you think about the world around you and make you feel for the human condition.
I love films that take me to places I never imagined. I love films that keep me guessing because that's what life is - a big bowl of unpredictability! To me, sameness is boring, predictability breeds complacency. I don't care how many explosions there are, if I know where the story is going then I'm going to be bored. Recently I watched a French horror film called "Martyrs". It wasn't a great film but it was different. It aspired to be something more than just another disposable piece of cinema meant to sell popcorn. It was thought-provoking and it did go in directions I never expected; for that I give it props. I wish more films did that, even mediocre fare like "Martyrs" which is only worth mentioning because the bar for the genre is set so low. In a perfect artistic world, "Martyrs" would be at the bottom of the pile, where originality was common. Unfortunately, we live in a system where originality does get noticed because it's so uncommon, regardless of the quality.
Am I an asshole? Are my expectations too high? Can't a society choose to define cinema in strictly narrow terms without being labeled ignorant or brainwashed? Don't people have the right to believe what they want to believe? Yes, I suppose they do. Ignorance is bliss and nobody should be forced to be literate. Lobotomies are a dime a dozen and if the lemmings want to march off the cliff, that's their business. The problem is that these lemmings are marching cinema off the cliff with them. The destruction of the art form rests solely on the system that is barraging the marketplace with gunk labeled as class. And that's not right. Call me condescending but I refuse to accept the masses' assessment. I refuse to look at cinema from such a narrow scope when I know it's reach is deep and meaningful. The bumper sticker "Question Authority" is apt here. We should constantly be assessing our own beliefs and searching for better answers instead of accepting the world that has been given to us.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
The Meaning Is In The Title
Having been writing entries for a couple of months now, I thought I would reflect on a quote I discovered about six months ago, "Every day do one thing that scares you", which I've also made the heading of this blog. Most of us love quotes and inspirational anecdotes because they remind us of things we know but often forget. I can't say I live my life in fear or spend my days worrying about what terrible things await me but sometimes I do feel myself making decisions based on slight hesitations I innately feel. This caution is nothing new and I believe part of it harkens back to my childhood as a shy, insecure boy. I never did well outside my comfort zone, at least I didn't think I did, and instead only did well in situations where I felt safe and supported. This insecurity has lessoned over the years for sure, but the powerful influence of childhood isn't always so easy to shake completely.
What I love about the quote is that it gives permission to fail. When I read it, it reminds me that everyone has felt the same way at some point in their lives - that sense of fear that hinders risk (and thus reward) - and yet people move forward, dive into the pool, and not allow the fear of failure to stymie them. I admire these people - not the oblivious, fearless ones but rather the people who do feel that paralysis but overcome it. I wish that I was that confident. I wish that I had that devotion to the principle that in the end it will be alright. That no matter what you built up in your head that's preventing you from taking the chance, it will never be that bad and in fact will in all likelihood be good.
As I've gotten older and seen the rewards that can come from "doing things that scare you", it's made it easier to take that plunge. Of course, it doesn't always work out and there have been plenty of times when I follow this rule only to fall flat on my face. But I've learned to cope with this by finding a way to learn from the experience and turning a seemingly bad situation into something positive.
Lately I've been trying really hard to put myself out of my comfort zone and make this quote a daily mantra. And to be honest, it's reaped a lot of great rewards. I don't know if it's because I just had my three year anniversary out of school, the fact that I've yet to direct a feature film, or the issue of nearing 30 years old but some motivation for change has been brewing inside me for quite some time. I need to get back to filmmaking, to writing, and to pursuing a life that will make me not only happy but fulfilled.
What does all this mean in specifics? I don't know. That's why I have this quote, to remind me when I'm afraid of something, not to be. There are a lot of wonderful things in my life, a lot of amazing people and a lot of fruitful opportunities that I need to take advantage of. Even if it scares me.
What I love about the quote is that it gives permission to fail. When I read it, it reminds me that everyone has felt the same way at some point in their lives - that sense of fear that hinders risk (and thus reward) - and yet people move forward, dive into the pool, and not allow the fear of failure to stymie them. I admire these people - not the oblivious, fearless ones but rather the people who do feel that paralysis but overcome it. I wish that I was that confident. I wish that I had that devotion to the principle that in the end it will be alright. That no matter what you built up in your head that's preventing you from taking the chance, it will never be that bad and in fact will in all likelihood be good.
As I've gotten older and seen the rewards that can come from "doing things that scare you", it's made it easier to take that plunge. Of course, it doesn't always work out and there have been plenty of times when I follow this rule only to fall flat on my face. But I've learned to cope with this by finding a way to learn from the experience and turning a seemingly bad situation into something positive.
Lately I've been trying really hard to put myself out of my comfort zone and make this quote a daily mantra. And to be honest, it's reaped a lot of great rewards. I don't know if it's because I just had my three year anniversary out of school, the fact that I've yet to direct a feature film, or the issue of nearing 30 years old but some motivation for change has been brewing inside me for quite some time. I need to get back to filmmaking, to writing, and to pursuing a life that will make me not only happy but fulfilled.
What does all this mean in specifics? I don't know. That's why I have this quote, to remind me when I'm afraid of something, not to be. There are a lot of wonderful things in my life, a lot of amazing people and a lot of fruitful opportunities that I need to take advantage of. Even if it scares me.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
The Mechanics of a Madman
Today I saw a new documentary called GREAT DIRECTORS. The film hasn't received overwhelmingly positive reviews from critics but it struck an emotional chord with me. Interviewing ten directors as diverse as Agnes Varda and Bernardo Bertolucci, the documentary attempts to encapsulate what it means to be a filmmaker and more importantly what it means to be an artist. As I sat in the theater watching these directors talk about their craft and see clips from their work, I couldn't help but be profoundly inspired.
I've been thinking a lot lately about our new project, LOVE PRESTON and how I want to tackle the visual aesthetic of the film. After getting my photos back that I took of the boys last weekend, I've been mulling the idea of shooting some scenes at the park. The location is so perfect for this project: an abandoned amusement park that sees very few visitors and would be an ideal place to stage scenes of a lonely boy looking for distractions. Tonight I rewrote the opening scene using photos that I took as a visual reference. I feel that if the film is about a child overwhelmed by the vastness of his surroundings but still engulfed in love from all direction, this park would be a great supplemental locale to the giant house. We could shoot scenes of him wandering around alone and also playing with his brother, taking advantage of the visual landscape - the light shining through the trees, the shadows falling on the dilapidated buildings. The more I think about the possibilities the more excited I am about this project.
Since this park is just across the street from their house, I would like to go up and shoot some practice footage to just get an idea of what we could accomplish. Taking the photos last weekend was a huge help for me and I think shooting some video would help me even more, particularly in trying to add more scenes to the script. Yes, it would be fun to just go up to the park and shoot on the fly but I really would prefer to have somewhat of a game plan.
If the boys were in town and Brian's camera was available, I would've gone up there this weekend. Unfortunately, they are gone and next weekend I'll be out of town. So it'll be a couple weeks before we can go up there and shoot some test footage. It was a little frustrating because after watching the documentary on directors, I was really antsy to shoot something. But I think letting this new idea marinate in my head will be good and already I've come up with some new thoughts on possible sequences.
Thank God I have this new project to focus my creative energy on. Without it, I'd be ready to explode.
I've been thinking a lot lately about our new project, LOVE PRESTON and how I want to tackle the visual aesthetic of the film. After getting my photos back that I took of the boys last weekend, I've been mulling the idea of shooting some scenes at the park. The location is so perfect for this project: an abandoned amusement park that sees very few visitors and would be an ideal place to stage scenes of a lonely boy looking for distractions. Tonight I rewrote the opening scene using photos that I took as a visual reference. I feel that if the film is about a child overwhelmed by the vastness of his surroundings but still engulfed in love from all direction, this park would be a great supplemental locale to the giant house. We could shoot scenes of him wandering around alone and also playing with his brother, taking advantage of the visual landscape - the light shining through the trees, the shadows falling on the dilapidated buildings. The more I think about the possibilities the more excited I am about this project.
Since this park is just across the street from their house, I would like to go up and shoot some practice footage to just get an idea of what we could accomplish. Taking the photos last weekend was a huge help for me and I think shooting some video would help me even more, particularly in trying to add more scenes to the script. Yes, it would be fun to just go up to the park and shoot on the fly but I really would prefer to have somewhat of a game plan.
If the boys were in town and Brian's camera was available, I would've gone up there this weekend. Unfortunately, they are gone and next weekend I'll be out of town. So it'll be a couple weeks before we can go up there and shoot some test footage. It was a little frustrating because after watching the documentary on directors, I was really antsy to shoot something. But I think letting this new idea marinate in my head will be good and already I've come up with some new thoughts on possible sequences.
Thank God I have this new project to focus my creative energy on. Without it, I'd be ready to explode.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
My Timeless Love Affair
Out of all the creative outlets that I have, photography is the one that is most personal to me. I don't mean that in the sense that it's the most important or the most fulfilling; what I mean is that it's the one thing that I do where I don't seek others approval. I don't care if people like or dislike my photography and I don't shoot for any other reason other than my own gratification. It's a strange thing and somewhat arrogant, I think. It's not that I'm extremely confident in my work; quite the contrary. I'm very aware of my limitations as a photographer and I fully admit my lack of knowledge. But I'm ok with that - it's simply an art form that I've practiced because I enjoy it and I enjoy what I get out of it.
With the exception of writing, I can't think of a type of creative expression that I've been involved with longer than photography. From the time I was seven years old and held my first camera (an old 126 camera that took those cube-like disposable flashes), taking shots of all the rides on our first trip to Disneyland, I was obsessed with capturing images. Along the way I've gone through various stages that I suppose all photographers go through (architecture, glamour, nature, candid, etc.). Recently of course my main mode of capture has been set photography. But even saying "recently" is somewhat misleading since I've been out of film school for three years and haven't shot much set photography since then. No, since graduation I haven't used my camera very much at all.
It saddens and sometimes frustrates me that I haven't taken more of an initiative in shooting. Photography has always come in and out of my life and I know that I'll go back to it someday. But whenever I look at old photos I took or have an idea for a specific photograph, I get excited. Yesterday Brian went up to Brennan and Preston's house to take some headshots and I went with him. While he was shooting the boys (headshots is a whole other animal of photography that I have no interest in) I brought my camera and also took some pictures. It was such an invigorating, inspiring feeling - particularly when I'm shooting people. It's one thing to go off and shoot random stuff that already exists in the world but when I am using people to populate the frame, I feel like I have to increase the creative level (because in essence the people become props that you arrange - or don't arrange, as the case may be).
While Brian was shooting some other actor friends, I took Brennan and Preston across the street to the park and took candid photos of them, similar to what I used to do with my cousin Jacqueline. This park, which is an amazing location (it's essentially an old abandoned amusement park), was perfect for shooting because there were no people and lots of diffused and filtered light. I took two rolls of slide film and one roll of b&w and it was an exhilerating feeling, having the camera back in my hand. I can't wait to get the photos developed and especially with the slide film, I can't wait to see how they turned out (nothing looks better than an image on a slide).
At some point soon, I need to delve into the digital world. While nothing will ever replace my A-1 and all my prime lenses, the time has come for me to have a decent digital SLR. Not necessarily for instances like yesterday, which I would have shot on film even if I had a digital camera, but there have been practical reasons in the past for me needing a digital camera. Thankfully Brian has let me use his camera numerous times and that's only solidified my feeling that I need a digital camera.
I wish that I shot more. At the beginning of the summer Evangeline and I talked about going out on photography field trips but that has yet to transpire. It's difficult when you have other things going on and you don't want to make it a chore - something that you HAVE to do. But I should make more of an effort to go out and use my camera more because it's something I love doing and it's been a wonderful element of expression for me.
With the exception of writing, I can't think of a type of creative expression that I've been involved with longer than photography. From the time I was seven years old and held my first camera (an old 126 camera that took those cube-like disposable flashes), taking shots of all the rides on our first trip to Disneyland, I was obsessed with capturing images. Along the way I've gone through various stages that I suppose all photographers go through (architecture, glamour, nature, candid, etc.). Recently of course my main mode of capture has been set photography. But even saying "recently" is somewhat misleading since I've been out of film school for three years and haven't shot much set photography since then. No, since graduation I haven't used my camera very much at all.
It saddens and sometimes frustrates me that I haven't taken more of an initiative in shooting. Photography has always come in and out of my life and I know that I'll go back to it someday. But whenever I look at old photos I took or have an idea for a specific photograph, I get excited. Yesterday Brian went up to Brennan and Preston's house to take some headshots and I went with him. While he was shooting the boys (headshots is a whole other animal of photography that I have no interest in) I brought my camera and also took some pictures. It was such an invigorating, inspiring feeling - particularly when I'm shooting people. It's one thing to go off and shoot random stuff that already exists in the world but when I am using people to populate the frame, I feel like I have to increase the creative level (because in essence the people become props that you arrange - or don't arrange, as the case may be).
While Brian was shooting some other actor friends, I took Brennan and Preston across the street to the park and took candid photos of them, similar to what I used to do with my cousin Jacqueline. This park, which is an amazing location (it's essentially an old abandoned amusement park), was perfect for shooting because there were no people and lots of diffused and filtered light. I took two rolls of slide film and one roll of b&w and it was an exhilerating feeling, having the camera back in my hand. I can't wait to get the photos developed and especially with the slide film, I can't wait to see how they turned out (nothing looks better than an image on a slide).
At some point soon, I need to delve into the digital world. While nothing will ever replace my A-1 and all my prime lenses, the time has come for me to have a decent digital SLR. Not necessarily for instances like yesterday, which I would have shot on film even if I had a digital camera, but there have been practical reasons in the past for me needing a digital camera. Thankfully Brian has let me use his camera numerous times and that's only solidified my feeling that I need a digital camera.
I wish that I shot more. At the beginning of the summer Evangeline and I talked about going out on photography field trips but that has yet to transpire. It's difficult when you have other things going on and you don't want to make it a chore - something that you HAVE to do. But I should make more of an effort to go out and use my camera more because it's something I love doing and it's been a wonderful element of expression for me.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Obama's War
Leon Panetta recently said that the Taliban was being more aggressive at going after our troops. He also said that progress against the Taliban is being made: "We are engaged in the most aggressive operations in the history of the CIA in that part of the world, and the result is that we are disrupting their leadership." Now, I've always been a huge fan of Leon Panetta and I was a big supporter of his appointment as CIA chief. Panetta is a smart guy and has always seemed to me to be a fair, logical guy (I completely buy into the rumors that he got the hell out of the White House because he knew the Lewinsky scandal was coming and didn't want to have any part in that mess). And I understand that in his new role as CIA chief, he's gotta be somewhat mischievous and at the very least, support Obama's policies. But I really am disheartened to see that his leadership at the CIA hasn't resulted in much change in strategy towards the war on terrorism.
For so much of Bush's presidency the Iraq war was the headline. It's so unfortunate because the result of this was that the problems in Afghanistan, a war that had very little opposition (unlike the war in Iraq), was neglected. Most people agreed after September 11 that we had to go into Afghanistan and remove the Taliban. Nine years later, we are still in Afghanistan and the Taliban is only getting stronger. When will this end? Are the Americans incapable of victory? If so, if the Taliban is just too strong for American forces, then we need to admit defeat and leave. It's completely disaffecting to the American people to think that we can somehow establish never-ending conflicts in parts of the world without any hope of resolution. Have the public just resigned themselves that we will always been engaged in war and that it's ok so long as the body count is not exorbitant? What kind of a system is this? In what world is this ok?
I understand the realities of the situation and that to immediately withdraw troops is not going to happen. Both the technical logistics and public perception (not to mention the political realities) prevents this. HOWEVER, the only alternative/excuse that I hear is that we have to stay the course. I don't buy into this nonesense that things are changing in Afghanistan and that next year we're going to start withdrawing troops. As far as I can tell, the policy in Afghanistan has not changed for the better since Obama took office. And actually, I feel like it's gotten worse because his new policy calls for an escalation of troops. Panetta admitted the administration recently gave Blackwater a new contract to provide additional security in Afghanistan. BLACKWATER. You know, the company accused of money laundering, weapons smuggling, and the killing of innocent Iraqi civilians.
In 1968 Richard Nixon ran for president on the platform that he would bring the troops home and end the war in Vietnam. Up until that point, Vietnam was LBJ's war, a war blamed squarely on the Democrats. Hubert Humphrey didn't stand a chance because his party was the war-mongering party. So Nixon won but of course we all know that Nixon didn't get out of Vietnam after he was elected (or even after he was reelected!). And history has shown that as much as Vietnam has been Johnson's to blame, it also was Nixon's.
For the past year or so, a lot of liberals have made similar comparisons to the current situation with Obama in Afghanistan. I believe this oil spill will be long forgotten in two years when Obama is up for reelection and instead what will be on people's minds is Afghanistan. Is Obama going to take the bold position and actually get out of Afghanistan? Whether unpopular or not, Obama is going to have to show some real leadership sooner rather than later and I have yet to see it thus far. This fear of giving ammunition to the opposition needs to stop and instead Obama needs to put his foot down and say we cannot succeed in Afghanistan. I think he will be called a defeatist and a coward by the Republicans but ultimately it is the position that will be better for the country. We need to put an end to the unnecessary deaths that this war has caused and even if it costs Obama a second term, it's the right thing to do. I don't believe we should support Obama simply because he's a Democrat if his policies are wrong. I don't believe he should get a pass because he's on the left if his position on an issue mirrors his predecessor. Instead, he should be accountable for his own role in this mess and held responsible if he doesn't do the right thing.
For so much of Bush's presidency the Iraq war was the headline. It's so unfortunate because the result of this was that the problems in Afghanistan, a war that had very little opposition (unlike the war in Iraq), was neglected. Most people agreed after September 11 that we had to go into Afghanistan and remove the Taliban. Nine years later, we are still in Afghanistan and the Taliban is only getting stronger. When will this end? Are the Americans incapable of victory? If so, if the Taliban is just too strong for American forces, then we need to admit defeat and leave. It's completely disaffecting to the American people to think that we can somehow establish never-ending conflicts in parts of the world without any hope of resolution. Have the public just resigned themselves that we will always been engaged in war and that it's ok so long as the body count is not exorbitant? What kind of a system is this? In what world is this ok?
I understand the realities of the situation and that to immediately withdraw troops is not going to happen. Both the technical logistics and public perception (not to mention the political realities) prevents this. HOWEVER, the only alternative/excuse that I hear is that we have to stay the course. I don't buy into this nonesense that things are changing in Afghanistan and that next year we're going to start withdrawing troops. As far as I can tell, the policy in Afghanistan has not changed for the better since Obama took office. And actually, I feel like it's gotten worse because his new policy calls for an escalation of troops. Panetta admitted the administration recently gave Blackwater a new contract to provide additional security in Afghanistan. BLACKWATER. You know, the company accused of money laundering, weapons smuggling, and the killing of innocent Iraqi civilians.
In 1968 Richard Nixon ran for president on the platform that he would bring the troops home and end the war in Vietnam. Up until that point, Vietnam was LBJ's war, a war blamed squarely on the Democrats. Hubert Humphrey didn't stand a chance because his party was the war-mongering party. So Nixon won but of course we all know that Nixon didn't get out of Vietnam after he was elected (or even after he was reelected!). And history has shown that as much as Vietnam has been Johnson's to blame, it also was Nixon's.
For the past year or so, a lot of liberals have made similar comparisons to the current situation with Obama in Afghanistan. I believe this oil spill will be long forgotten in two years when Obama is up for reelection and instead what will be on people's minds is Afghanistan. Is Obama going to take the bold position and actually get out of Afghanistan? Whether unpopular or not, Obama is going to have to show some real leadership sooner rather than later and I have yet to see it thus far. This fear of giving ammunition to the opposition needs to stop and instead Obama needs to put his foot down and say we cannot succeed in Afghanistan. I think he will be called a defeatist and a coward by the Republicans but ultimately it is the position that will be better for the country. We need to put an end to the unnecessary deaths that this war has caused and even if it costs Obama a second term, it's the right thing to do. I don't believe we should support Obama simply because he's a Democrat if his policies are wrong. I don't believe he should get a pass because he's on the left if his position on an issue mirrors his predecessor. Instead, he should be accountable for his own role in this mess and held responsible if he doesn't do the right thing.
Friday, June 11, 2010
The 1970s American Cinema Perspective
The term "1970s cinema" has come to represent an idea about cinema more than just a given time frame. When people talk about movies from the 70s, when they refer to the 70s as the second golden age of cinema, what they really are referring to is a style that was a through-line for specific kinds of films being made during this time, a style that would define a movement in cinema, specifically American cinema.
What I love so much about this time in filmmaking (which really began in the late 60s) is that it was so unpredictable, where unconventional became the convention. Whether it's THE GRADUATE, BULLITT, MARATHON MAN, or KLUTE, they all had a very specific feel that was wholly original. The pacing of these films (and when I saying pacing, I'm really referring to the editing) were so deliberate and methodical that it left the viewer with something to enjoy and savor. Of course the French were responsible; you watch a movie like THE FRENCH CONNECTION and you can't help but see how influential Jean Pierre Melville was to Friedkin. "Transportation" was not merely transportation; it helped establish mood, set a tone, and created an atmosphere from which the world the filmmaker had created would be built. Instead of story pushing the viewer further and further along, these films relied on the love of the moment over the importance of plot. Ironically, this isn't to say American films from the 70s had no plot. Quite the contrary. Films like THE PARALLAX VIEW and THREE DAYS OF THE CONDOR had extremely complicated plots. But the difference was that they weren't based solely on plot. They didn't rely on just the wow factor. Instead, you could get a palpable sense of just how much the filmmakers loved and respected this medium and they wanted their audiences to also love the medium.
Of course cinematography played an integral part in helping to define this movement. The daring risks that these DPs took redefined what cinematography was and what it could be. For myself, part of what I love about these films is the cinematography. I become so absorbed in the world that is created that it makes it so easy for me to want to come back to it. Owen Roizman is just as much responsible for me rewatching THE TAKING OF PELHAM ONE TWO THREE as Walter Matthau is. That, my friend, is true power. When a cinematographer's work can be just as impactful as an actor's work. This is why I'm constantly searching out lesser known films from this period - movies like CHARLEY VARRICK, MIKEY & NICKY, and CALIFORNIA SPLIT - even if they're not as revered as CHINATOWN or THE GODFATHER, the look of these films is so engrossing that it's easy for me to enjoy them.
I wish films today were as confident as they were back then. Contemporary Hollywood cinema doesn't have the lust for risk that 1970s cinema had. During this time, character development played a huge part in mainstream film. A movie like KLUTE for instance, is seemingly about a man searching for his best friend. But what we realize is that it's as much a character study about a call girl than a mystery about a missing person. Likewise, NIGHT MOVES and THE LONG GOODBYE are more about lonely men who get hired to find missing people than about whether they solve a particular crime.
What is most unusual about these films when compared to films today is that they are never about what they first appear. With few exceptions (MICHAEL CLAYTON being the most obvious), today's films are perfectly laid out in the first twenty minutes on what they are about and what we as an audience are to expect. We then spend the remaining 90 minutes having those expectations met. But in the 70s, some films would go over an hour before you had even the faintest idea what it was about (for example in MARATHON MAN, it's nearly an hour into the film before Roy Schieder character is killed). Or better yet, the first act would set you up believing one thing then halfway in it takes a complete turn and it's about something else. I love when this happens! There is nothing I love more than to be surprised when I watch a film (one recent example of this is the Herzog remake of BAD LIEUTENANT). I don't think audiences like that today (which would explain why Herzog's film didn't do very well at the box office). Anytime films do that today, people are either confused or agitated. Quotes from audiences like, "that movie was boring" and "it felt like two different movies" leave studios hesitant to take risks like they did in the old days.
I think these risks that the films took in story reflected the risks the filmmakers were making in their craft. Whether it be in cinematography, editing, music, direction - they all attempted a certain contradiction by pushing the medium forward in trying new things. PLAY MISTY FOR ME is a thriller about obsession set during the Monterey Jazz Festival. While the content reflected violence (a crazed fan stalking a radio DJ), the title of the film (and the soundtrack) was based on a melodic love song. This contradiction (or motif playing off opposites, if you want to get fancy) helped add a layer of depth to these movies (something that lacked from FATAL ATTRACTION, a varied remake of the Eastwood film). What these films did so well was to slowly unravel a story you never knew coming and it was done in such a way that it was seamless (and you didn't even care). What exactly is the plot of BULLITT? Who are these people smuggling drugs in THE FRENCH CONNECTION? The end is irrelevant because it's the journey that matters. It's the way these films are made that make them so indelible, not their outcome. Not a better example of this is in two of the most heralded films from this time period, both of which were based on true events: ALL THE PRESIDENT'S MEN and DOG DAY AFTERNOON. Both of these films are near perfect despite the fact that everyone knows the outcome.
The period from roughly 1967-1979 was a very special time for American cinema. They were daring, they were unapologetic, and they respected the audience enough to know that even if you missed something about the plot, you could still enjoy the film. And boy, were those films enjoyable.
What I love so much about this time in filmmaking (which really began in the late 60s) is that it was so unpredictable, where unconventional became the convention. Whether it's THE GRADUATE, BULLITT, MARATHON MAN, or KLUTE, they all had a very specific feel that was wholly original. The pacing of these films (and when I saying pacing, I'm really referring to the editing) were so deliberate and methodical that it left the viewer with something to enjoy and savor. Of course the French were responsible; you watch a movie like THE FRENCH CONNECTION and you can't help but see how influential Jean Pierre Melville was to Friedkin. "Transportation" was not merely transportation; it helped establish mood, set a tone, and created an atmosphere from which the world the filmmaker had created would be built. Instead of story pushing the viewer further and further along, these films relied on the love of the moment over the importance of plot. Ironically, this isn't to say American films from the 70s had no plot. Quite the contrary. Films like THE PARALLAX VIEW and THREE DAYS OF THE CONDOR had extremely complicated plots. But the difference was that they weren't based solely on plot. They didn't rely on just the wow factor. Instead, you could get a palpable sense of just how much the filmmakers loved and respected this medium and they wanted their audiences to also love the medium.
Of course cinematography played an integral part in helping to define this movement. The daring risks that these DPs took redefined what cinematography was and what it could be. For myself, part of what I love about these films is the cinematography. I become so absorbed in the world that is created that it makes it so easy for me to want to come back to it. Owen Roizman is just as much responsible for me rewatching THE TAKING OF PELHAM ONE TWO THREE as Walter Matthau is. That, my friend, is true power. When a cinematographer's work can be just as impactful as an actor's work. This is why I'm constantly searching out lesser known films from this period - movies like CHARLEY VARRICK, MIKEY & NICKY, and CALIFORNIA SPLIT - even if they're not as revered as CHINATOWN or THE GODFATHER, the look of these films is so engrossing that it's easy for me to enjoy them.
I wish films today were as confident as they were back then. Contemporary Hollywood cinema doesn't have the lust for risk that 1970s cinema had. During this time, character development played a huge part in mainstream film. A movie like KLUTE for instance, is seemingly about a man searching for his best friend. But what we realize is that it's as much a character study about a call girl than a mystery about a missing person. Likewise, NIGHT MOVES and THE LONG GOODBYE are more about lonely men who get hired to find missing people than about whether they solve a particular crime.
What is most unusual about these films when compared to films today is that they are never about what they first appear. With few exceptions (MICHAEL CLAYTON being the most obvious), today's films are perfectly laid out in the first twenty minutes on what they are about and what we as an audience are to expect. We then spend the remaining 90 minutes having those expectations met. But in the 70s, some films would go over an hour before you had even the faintest idea what it was about (for example in MARATHON MAN, it's nearly an hour into the film before Roy Schieder character is killed). Or better yet, the first act would set you up believing one thing then halfway in it takes a complete turn and it's about something else. I love when this happens! There is nothing I love more than to be surprised when I watch a film (one recent example of this is the Herzog remake of BAD LIEUTENANT). I don't think audiences like that today (which would explain why Herzog's film didn't do very well at the box office). Anytime films do that today, people are either confused or agitated. Quotes from audiences like, "that movie was boring" and "it felt like two different movies" leave studios hesitant to take risks like they did in the old days.
I think these risks that the films took in story reflected the risks the filmmakers were making in their craft. Whether it be in cinematography, editing, music, direction - they all attempted a certain contradiction by pushing the medium forward in trying new things. PLAY MISTY FOR ME is a thriller about obsession set during the Monterey Jazz Festival. While the content reflected violence (a crazed fan stalking a radio DJ), the title of the film (and the soundtrack) was based on a melodic love song. This contradiction (or motif playing off opposites, if you want to get fancy) helped add a layer of depth to these movies (something that lacked from FATAL ATTRACTION, a varied remake of the Eastwood film). What these films did so well was to slowly unravel a story you never knew coming and it was done in such a way that it was seamless (and you didn't even care). What exactly is the plot of BULLITT? Who are these people smuggling drugs in THE FRENCH CONNECTION? The end is irrelevant because it's the journey that matters. It's the way these films are made that make them so indelible, not their outcome. Not a better example of this is in two of the most heralded films from this time period, both of which were based on true events: ALL THE PRESIDENT'S MEN and DOG DAY AFTERNOON. Both of these films are near perfect despite the fact that everyone knows the outcome.
The period from roughly 1967-1979 was a very special time for American cinema. They were daring, they were unapologetic, and they respected the audience enough to know that even if you missed something about the plot, you could still enjoy the film. And boy, were those films enjoyable.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Three Years Ago
This month it will have been five years since I started preparation for the move out of my parents house in Watsonville and into my own apartment in Southern California. June was my last month of work at the Cabrillo College Foundation, a place I had worked for nearly six years. By July, most of my stuff was packed and I had begun the search for an apartment in Long Beach. By August, the U-Haul was packed and I was on my adventure. I had no idea what I was in for. I had no idea how drastically my life would change. That first semester was the transition period - adjusting to living on my own, meeting new people, breaking up with my girlfriend. By Christmas everything had changed and I was on my way to building a life that I never imagined I'd have.
Three Years ago, I graduated from film school. The two years I spent at Cal State Long Beach were the most influential years of my life - it laid the groundwork for the direction that I would go. It gave me focus, a calling. I think about those two years and wonder where would I be had I not gone to film school. Or where would I be had I gone a year earlier. Or to a different school. Would I still be pursuing film? Would I have gotten farther along in my career than where I am now? These questions can never be answered. Only pondered. Regardless, I'm happy with where I'm at now. I'm grateful for those two years where I got to discover my craft. I went in not knowing what I wanted to do - writing, directing, cinematography - but I left with a very clear goal of what I wanted to pursue.
I imagine it would be difficult if you didn't know what you wanted to do with your life. All I've ever wanted was to have a job where I could be creatively fulfilled. For a long time, that meant acting. But after taking a directing class and a film analysis class, I decided to pursue a life behind the camera. Since going to film school and actually making my own films, this passion has only strengthened. Now, ALL I want is to be a filmmaker. Doing anything else would be blasphemy and in my mind, a failure. Is this a good thing? I don't know. Hopefully this will be a driving motivator to achieve my goals - at any cost. Starting a family is not nearly as important to me as it once was. Creative fulfillment is not the common denominator anymore. Directing is.
Am I surprised that I've kept in contact with so many people from film school? No, not at all. I imagine the relationships I've forged with my peers are relationships that will last a lifetime. Sure, some have taken different paths. Some have moved away from filmmaking. But those that have stayed, the common goal in a strong unifier. And I'm extremely grateful for that. Film is built on collaboration and inspiration and I don't think I could go on without either of these.
It's crazy to think that I've been out of school for three years now - I've been out of school longer than I was in film school. What have I done in those three years? Do I have anything to show, any growth, anything I'm proud of? Sure. I completed Seven Years after I graduated. I shot Kay. I've done some writing. I've done a lot of film watching. And I'm now venturing into a new project, something I hope will continue my development. Since graduating, none of us are exactly where we want to be. But I think all of us are on the paths we want to be. And I guess that's all we can hope for.
Three Years ago, I graduated from film school. The two years I spent at Cal State Long Beach were the most influential years of my life - it laid the groundwork for the direction that I would go. It gave me focus, a calling. I think about those two years and wonder where would I be had I not gone to film school. Or where would I be had I gone a year earlier. Or to a different school. Would I still be pursuing film? Would I have gotten farther along in my career than where I am now? These questions can never be answered. Only pondered. Regardless, I'm happy with where I'm at now. I'm grateful for those two years where I got to discover my craft. I went in not knowing what I wanted to do - writing, directing, cinematography - but I left with a very clear goal of what I wanted to pursue.
I imagine it would be difficult if you didn't know what you wanted to do with your life. All I've ever wanted was to have a job where I could be creatively fulfilled. For a long time, that meant acting. But after taking a directing class and a film analysis class, I decided to pursue a life behind the camera. Since going to film school and actually making my own films, this passion has only strengthened. Now, ALL I want is to be a filmmaker. Doing anything else would be blasphemy and in my mind, a failure. Is this a good thing? I don't know. Hopefully this will be a driving motivator to achieve my goals - at any cost. Starting a family is not nearly as important to me as it once was. Creative fulfillment is not the common denominator anymore. Directing is.
Am I surprised that I've kept in contact with so many people from film school? No, not at all. I imagine the relationships I've forged with my peers are relationships that will last a lifetime. Sure, some have taken different paths. Some have moved away from filmmaking. But those that have stayed, the common goal in a strong unifier. And I'm extremely grateful for that. Film is built on collaboration and inspiration and I don't think I could go on without either of these.
It's crazy to think that I've been out of school for three years now - I've been out of school longer than I was in film school. What have I done in those three years? Do I have anything to show, any growth, anything I'm proud of? Sure. I completed Seven Years after I graduated. I shot Kay. I've done some writing. I've done a lot of film watching. And I'm now venturing into a new project, something I hope will continue my development. Since graduating, none of us are exactly where we want to be. But I think all of us are on the paths we want to be. And I guess that's all we can hope for.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Camera Operating
Last night we shot the first day of the reality show pilot, "Scared Sh!tless." It went extremely well and I think we got a lot of really good footage. Brian had to work so Evangeline stepped up and operated one of the three cameras. Thank God she was there because I don't know anything about the HVX or the process of unloading footage. There were a couple hiccups getting things set up (such as the formatting the hard drive) but luckily we figured everything out.
There were three of us operating a camera - Evangeline, me, and Jordan, who has worked with Rob and Karen before. It was the first time I'd ever used an HVX before and the first time since Kay (which was a year and a half ago) that I operated a camera. It was such a "welcome home" feeling with added exhilaration in that there were multiple cameras and no script. I'd always wanted to shoot multiple cameras before and last night only fueled my desire to do more of this. I loved the freedom of shooting a scene in real time from multiple cameras, where I could cover one person and another cameraman could cover the reverse. There was no rehearsing, no real plan or communication between the three of us manning a camera. Instead, we just shot instinctively - we knew what to shoot and how to shoot it. If I saw Evangeline shooting someone, I would come over and shoot the reverse; I was constantly editing in my head, trying to imagine what to capture in order to maximize effectiveness in the editing room. And the three of us, moving around the room, were in such sync with each other that we created this bond between each other where we knew exactly what to do without having to say anything.
Because there were multiple cameras I had the freedom to shoot other things and not worry about "capturing" every single moment. I knew because there were two other cameras, that I could follow one of the actors outside and not worry about missing something inside. I also felt the freedom to shoot random inserts and establishing shots. I loved it. I don't have any idea how the finished pilot will turn out but I do know that this has been a worthwhile and fulfilling experience. Since this isn't my project and I'm not directing or editing it, I felt such a lack of pressure to "get everything right." One of the tough things about making your own stuff is that it's all on your shoulders. There are so many different hats you have to wear when you're directing. But with this project I don't have that massive amount of responsibility. This helped me kick back and really focus on the task at hand and more importantly, enjoy what I was doing! I want to do more of this kind of stuff, not just because I love it but because it'll give me more experience that will be helpful in my own work.
Between work, picking up equipment at Samy's, and shooting until after midnight, yesterday was a really long day. We have one more night of shooting on Sunday and I'm looking forward to it. This time, we're shooting at the location so there are definitely more variables involved. But I expect it to be just as much fun and just as fulfilling. Just the opportunity alone that I've been given with this project, to be given the freedom and trust to participate as a camera operator has been such an honor. To be given a camera and capture moments - unscripted moments - has been a real blessing.
There were three of us operating a camera - Evangeline, me, and Jordan, who has worked with Rob and Karen before. It was the first time I'd ever used an HVX before and the first time since Kay (which was a year and a half ago) that I operated a camera. It was such a "welcome home" feeling with added exhilaration in that there were multiple cameras and no script. I'd always wanted to shoot multiple cameras before and last night only fueled my desire to do more of this. I loved the freedom of shooting a scene in real time from multiple cameras, where I could cover one person and another cameraman could cover the reverse. There was no rehearsing, no real plan or communication between the three of us manning a camera. Instead, we just shot instinctively - we knew what to shoot and how to shoot it. If I saw Evangeline shooting someone, I would come over and shoot the reverse; I was constantly editing in my head, trying to imagine what to capture in order to maximize effectiveness in the editing room. And the three of us, moving around the room, were in such sync with each other that we created this bond between each other where we knew exactly what to do without having to say anything.
Because there were multiple cameras I had the freedom to shoot other things and not worry about "capturing" every single moment. I knew because there were two other cameras, that I could follow one of the actors outside and not worry about missing something inside. I also felt the freedom to shoot random inserts and establishing shots. I loved it. I don't have any idea how the finished pilot will turn out but I do know that this has been a worthwhile and fulfilling experience. Since this isn't my project and I'm not directing or editing it, I felt such a lack of pressure to "get everything right." One of the tough things about making your own stuff is that it's all on your shoulders. There are so many different hats you have to wear when you're directing. But with this project I don't have that massive amount of responsibility. This helped me kick back and really focus on the task at hand and more importantly, enjoy what I was doing! I want to do more of this kind of stuff, not just because I love it but because it'll give me more experience that will be helpful in my own work.
Between work, picking up equipment at Samy's, and shooting until after midnight, yesterday was a really long day. We have one more night of shooting on Sunday and I'm looking forward to it. This time, we're shooting at the location so there are definitely more variables involved. But I expect it to be just as much fun and just as fulfilling. Just the opportunity alone that I've been given with this project, to be given the freedom and trust to participate as a camera operator has been such an honor. To be given a camera and capture moments - unscripted moments - has been a real blessing.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Relationship to Cinema
I love movies. I've always loved movies. And since taking a film appreciation class in college, I've always loved "cinema." It was in that class that I realized movies could be more than just passing entertainment.
No, scratch that. It's been the years SINCE taking that class, after connecting to so many great films, that I realized movies could be something special. Meaningful. Powerful.
People who say I don't like movies just don't know me. I don't know many people who love movies more than me. I don't know many people who connect to films at a level that I do. People who accuse me of elitism don't know the relationship I have to cinema. It's a relationship that has been developing - unfolding, maturing - for a long time now. Going to film school really cemented this relationship because I was now able to be a participant, not just an observer. And since then, it's impossible for me to separate the filmmaker in me from the film viewer in me. They are one entity and it is this culmination that has created this special relationship.
Recently, I watched a film (a French film called "The Father of My Children") that had such a profound impact on me that I didn't want to watch anything else for the rest of the weekend. I wanted to just let the film sit with me; marinate in my head for awhile, to let inspire, provoke, ponder. Do many people do this after watching a film? I don't know. Given the way people flippantly discuss movies, I doubt it. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who can walk out of a theater and feel like I just had a religious experience.
In spite of the fact that I like arguing and debating cinema, my relationship to the art form is a very personal and achingly private relationship that I don't share with many people. In fact, only a few have any idea the level of importance cinema plays in my life. I go to a lot of movies alone and this is one of the main reasons; I enjoy being by myself so that I can connect to the film quietly and on my own terms. I don't think many people understand what cinema means to me (and I don't think people really care) so I usually forgo meaningful expression for shallow ramblings.
I've learned that the best and most fulfilling way of expressing this relationship is through the work. There is nothing more fulfilling to me than creating. The act of creating is in and of itself an expression of love. Therefore, there is nothing more fulfilling to me than the expression of love. And so all the talk, all the bloodshed fought over some insistence of worth is irrelevant to me. No one can ever take this relationship away from me. It is mine and it is what I get out of it that feeds my desire as an artist.
No, scratch that. It's been the years SINCE taking that class, after connecting to so many great films, that I realized movies could be something special. Meaningful. Powerful.
People who say I don't like movies just don't know me. I don't know many people who love movies more than me. I don't know many people who connect to films at a level that I do. People who accuse me of elitism don't know the relationship I have to cinema. It's a relationship that has been developing - unfolding, maturing - for a long time now. Going to film school really cemented this relationship because I was now able to be a participant, not just an observer. And since then, it's impossible for me to separate the filmmaker in me from the film viewer in me. They are one entity and it is this culmination that has created this special relationship.
Recently, I watched a film (a French film called "The Father of My Children") that had such a profound impact on me that I didn't want to watch anything else for the rest of the weekend. I wanted to just let the film sit with me; marinate in my head for awhile, to let inspire, provoke, ponder. Do many people do this after watching a film? I don't know. Given the way people flippantly discuss movies, I doubt it. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who can walk out of a theater and feel like I just had a religious experience.
In spite of the fact that I like arguing and debating cinema, my relationship to the art form is a very personal and achingly private relationship that I don't share with many people. In fact, only a few have any idea the level of importance cinema plays in my life. I go to a lot of movies alone and this is one of the main reasons; I enjoy being by myself so that I can connect to the film quietly and on my own terms. I don't think many people understand what cinema means to me (and I don't think people really care) so I usually forgo meaningful expression for shallow ramblings.
I've learned that the best and most fulfilling way of expressing this relationship is through the work. There is nothing more fulfilling to me than creating. The act of creating is in and of itself an expression of love. Therefore, there is nothing more fulfilling to me than the expression of love. And so all the talk, all the bloodshed fought over some insistence of worth is irrelevant to me. No one can ever take this relationship away from me. It is mine and it is what I get out of it that feeds my desire as an artist.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
The Work Must Continue
Out of the three films that I've made, only Chance was a film that I knew was going to get done. Going in to both Seven Years and Kay, I had no idea whether we would actually make the movie. With Seven Years, it was a question of time (I was nearing graduation) and with Kay, it was a matter of money (I insisted on shooting on film even though I couldn't afford it). In the end, both films got made and became huge stepping stones in the development of my craft.
Having recently completed the DVD for Kay, I assumed this was the last short film I'd shoot for a long time. I wanted to get back to writing my feature and I needed to move away from these short film tangents that take up years of my life. However, recently I have been given an opportunity to shoot another short film. This took me by complete surprise, as jumping into pre-production is the last thing on my mind right now. However, the opportunity is a big one and it immediately sparked my brain with ideas. Within a week of first getting the idea, I had a first draft completed. It's shocking to me how the process can be; I can sit down for weeks trying to write something and then all of a sudden one little spark ignites and the floodgates are opened.
I have no idea if this film will get shot. Similar to what happened last time with Kay, I have no idea how I'm going to pay for this. Brian and I already decided we want to shoot digital (even though the more I think about this script, the more I fall in love with it, and the more I want to shoot on film) but even then, we're looking at a $1,000 to $2,000 budget. How am I going to pay for this? Do I put it on my credit card, which I recently paid off? Do I take money out from my mutual fund? The responsible thing would be to say no and to pay for this with cash. But what if I don't have cash? I don't want to ask my family for money. Lately, I've been trying hard to be smart with my money. I just cashed out my 401(k) to pay off my credit card so do I really want to put money back on it?
The smart thing to do would be to continue paying down my credit cards and student loans and not do more of these projects until I can afford to pay for them. The problem that I have with this is that at what point do I say I can afford it? And what if I never get to that point? What if I constantly feel like I'm behind and never ahead financially? Do I just give up this dream - this pursuit of being a filmmaker? It's pretty hard to call yourself a filmmaker if you're not making films. How am I suppose to learn and grow if I don't go out there and do it? Is the risk not worth it? Are the consequences too great? These are the questions I ask myself when faced with the decision of whether I'm willing to take the plunge into making another film.
When making tough decisions, one thing I always consider is this: what will I regret more, doing something or not doing something? Usually, the answer is I"ll regret not doing something. I've never regretted shooting Seven Years or Kay and I'd be hard-pressed to believe I'd regret making this new film. Even if it sets me back financially, even if it puts me more in debt, I don't know that it won't be worth it. Typically, I never feel more confident in my decision making than in situations like this. I am not a confident or self assured person but when it comes to my art, there's never any fence sitting. It's full speed ahead, no looking back, no second guessing. I suppose feeling this way is a good indication that I should follow my instincts and when I don't know what to do, just pursue the dream.
I learned awhile ago that filmmaking is my passion. I have to express myself and cinema is my way of releasing my creativity. THERE IS NOTHING ELSE. So if I don't humor my passion, what am I doing? What is the goal if not that? Financial stability? Expensive stuff? Independence from debt? This is logical but somehow ludicrous to what I want from life. The work must continue. At all cost. At ANY cost. If an opportunity presents itself (such as right now), I must seize it. I must not concern myself with what the consequences are; surely the consequences for NOT seizing the opportunity are far greater in the long run. I must only trust that the path of pursuing this artistic inclination will work itself out. I leave it up to God; to fate; to whatever force which has brought me to where I am, and where I am going. I must trust that impulse. There is nothing else.
Having recently completed the DVD for Kay, I assumed this was the last short film I'd shoot for a long time. I wanted to get back to writing my feature and I needed to move away from these short film tangents that take up years of my life. However, recently I have been given an opportunity to shoot another short film. This took me by complete surprise, as jumping into pre-production is the last thing on my mind right now. However, the opportunity is a big one and it immediately sparked my brain with ideas. Within a week of first getting the idea, I had a first draft completed. It's shocking to me how the process can be; I can sit down for weeks trying to write something and then all of a sudden one little spark ignites and the floodgates are opened.
I have no idea if this film will get shot. Similar to what happened last time with Kay, I have no idea how I'm going to pay for this. Brian and I already decided we want to shoot digital (even though the more I think about this script, the more I fall in love with it, and the more I want to shoot on film) but even then, we're looking at a $1,000 to $2,000 budget. How am I going to pay for this? Do I put it on my credit card, which I recently paid off? Do I take money out from my mutual fund? The responsible thing would be to say no and to pay for this with cash. But what if I don't have cash? I don't want to ask my family for money. Lately, I've been trying hard to be smart with my money. I just cashed out my 401(k) to pay off my credit card so do I really want to put money back on it?
The smart thing to do would be to continue paying down my credit cards and student loans and not do more of these projects until I can afford to pay for them. The problem that I have with this is that at what point do I say I can afford it? And what if I never get to that point? What if I constantly feel like I'm behind and never ahead financially? Do I just give up this dream - this pursuit of being a filmmaker? It's pretty hard to call yourself a filmmaker if you're not making films. How am I suppose to learn and grow if I don't go out there and do it? Is the risk not worth it? Are the consequences too great? These are the questions I ask myself when faced with the decision of whether I'm willing to take the plunge into making another film.
When making tough decisions, one thing I always consider is this: what will I regret more, doing something or not doing something? Usually, the answer is I"ll regret not doing something. I've never regretted shooting Seven Years or Kay and I'd be hard-pressed to believe I'd regret making this new film. Even if it sets me back financially, even if it puts me more in debt, I don't know that it won't be worth it. Typically, I never feel more confident in my decision making than in situations like this. I am not a confident or self assured person but when it comes to my art, there's never any fence sitting. It's full speed ahead, no looking back, no second guessing. I suppose feeling this way is a good indication that I should follow my instincts and when I don't know what to do, just pursue the dream.
I learned awhile ago that filmmaking is my passion. I have to express myself and cinema is my way of releasing my creativity. THERE IS NOTHING ELSE. So if I don't humor my passion, what am I doing? What is the goal if not that? Financial stability? Expensive stuff? Independence from debt? This is logical but somehow ludicrous to what I want from life. The work must continue. At all cost. At ANY cost. If an opportunity presents itself (such as right now), I must seize it. I must not concern myself with what the consequences are; surely the consequences for NOT seizing the opportunity are far greater in the long run. I must only trust that the path of pursuing this artistic inclination will work itself out. I leave it up to God; to fate; to whatever force which has brought me to where I am, and where I am going. I must trust that impulse. There is nothing else.
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