Monthly Archives: May 2016

Movies I’ve watched this week – 13/05/16

Posted on by
Reply

Week #10. It’s been 2 weeks since I’ve been to Cinematheque and I’m having withdrawals.

 

Scooby-Doo (2002) dir. Raja Gosnell
07/05/16
rewatch

How James Gunn managed to maintain an even moderately successful career after penning this is truly a modern marvel. Truly defines the genre of weird cinema. Was an odd viewing with my 8-year-old sister, revisiting something from my childhood only to have it resonate into hers. The freaky dog-demons that plague Mystery Inc are substantially less spookier than I remember (I was ready to relive my childhood spooks) and the film as a whole acted as a reminder why I hate Rowan Atkinson. The recurring allusions to stoner culture in small excerpts from Shaggy and Scooby’s lives are the greatest thing about this. ★★½

Dogs in Space (1986) dir. Richard Lowenstein
07/05/16

Continuing the completely unintentional dog trend for the night (I do love dogs though) came possibly the greatest hidden gem in Australian cinema. Lowenstein’s Dogs in Space serves itself up as an unconventional Australian mid-point between Altman’s Nashville (1975) and Linklater’s Dazed and Confused (1993) (a triple bill to die for), and as he navigates the trashy crevasses of late-70s suburban Melbourne he manufactures the mood of youth in ways I’ve seen no other Aussie drama do (we’ll leave Snowtown out of this). The late Michael Hutchence (a very torn and sultry Michael Hutchence at that) is faaaaaantastic here, and makes me a little sad he didn’t further pursue a little acting on the side. ★★★★

The Master (2012) dir. Paul Thomas Anderson
09/05/16
rewatch

Was inspired to revisit this following the release of Radiohead’s latest record due to Jonny Greenwood’s contribution to the film’s score, who, continuing his sonic collaboration with the latter portion of PTA’s filmography, strikes out some uneven, fiery and disconnected strings which scold the film in an unnerving fashion. The blu of this look unreal on my brand new Samsung. ★★★★½

Grizzly Man (2005) dir. Werner Herzog
10/05/16

An absolutely phenomenal work of art curated by Herzog, not only a tragic tale of human arrogance but a frightening insight into a man’s utter obsession with the natural world; Herzog’s voiceover is divine, a fitting narrator to a horrifically haunting battle between these two entities. Straight to the top of my favourite docos list. Shook me to my core. “I believe the common denominator of the universe is not harmony, but chaos, hostility, and murder. ★★★★★

Inception (2010) dir. Christopher Nolan
11/05/16
rewatch

Written for Letterboxd: 

A film I can’t help but renew my infatuation with despite all of Nolan’s inherent flaws; exposition layering exposition layering exposition and the safeness of his directorial approach are among the plenitude of annoyances that struck me this revisit, but those the almost perfect rounding of Cobb’s plot (I feel completely indifferent towards Cillian Murphy’s whole bit) and those fleeting moments of heightened drama in the midst of the film’s final, veneered act always seem to pull on my reluctant heartstrings. The backing characters just kinda do things–the star studded ensemble undoubtedly helps boost what would’ve been a stale series of supporting characters otherwise–and although they are just there to serve as pawns in Cobb’s big game they occasionally have their moments of unrestricted joy. This once sat at the top of my favourite films list (it has been yeeeeears since I last watched), and in so many ways remains a most important film to me, a staple in my cinematic love-life, something of a precursor to my now engulfing cinephilia. It’s cheesy, it’s ridiculous, it’s laughable at times and it steps out on its mythology a tad too often but it’s a film that I cherish right now and probably always will–bleh. No rating

STYLE

Posted on by
Reply

A film’s style, a director’s style, or even a movement’s style provide the viewer with a plenitude of analytical content and once you latch on to these patterns, a new world of cinema can be unraveled. A film’s style in particular as posited by Bordwell and Thompson refers to the distinctive pattern of techniques we find in a film–may they be choices in mise-en-scene, cinematography, editing or sound–and relates to their overall organisation with in the filmic form. Scorsese hones a very unique style, one replicated in part by many contemporary directors today (David O. Russell, Paul Thomas Anderson) exemplifying the quality and importance of his stylistic influence.

A common Scorsese trait is to tend to the story of a single, desperate character, burgeoning on the edges of a certain social group, and to track the intricacies of their movements; usually following them up as they rise (sometimes literally) through the ranks and always following them down as they descend into the pit of madness they themselves curated and their exile from their chosen (sometimes the greater) society. As acclaimed Aussie film critic David Stratton writes “There’s so much information stored inside him it’s as though he’s bursting at the seams; he talks in a rapid-fire style as though he doesn’t have enough time to describe everything he knows. He’s like a character in a 1930s movie.” Such personal characteristics are directly channeled into the style of his films; their crammed nature and extended runtimes are simply homes for the plethora of information and detail Scorsese feels the need he has to convey.

Video Essays (potpourri)

Posted on by
Reply

Video essays: probably in my top 10 all-time favourite things to watch. I’m probably in agreement with the majority of what was said in today’s lectorial (week #10, for future reference) about the ‘new essay’ age. These wonders provide a much richer experience than the traditional essay, a given considering all its visual and aural material, but a well needed richness that demands the viewer’s precise attention (There is something so satisfying in the act of viewing something where someone has taken to the time to delve into the rabbit hole of cinema and pick out even a few little bits and pieces, rearrange them, and then put them back together).

The academic pushes towards this medium are deserved, and the creativity that such a platform opens up is both inspiring, given a newfound creative freedom, and terrifying; sometimes limits aren’t always detrimental. Making a good video essay as opposed to a good traditional essay is indeed a difficult task. It requires greater patience (a ginormous amount of extra time), an compositional adequacy both with the essay’s visual and narrative elements, and demands greater confidence in its presentation. But in turn comes a much more rewarding experience–if everything works out in the end, you have in your hands the sweetest result of a century+ of video evolution: insight.

Some YouTubers in the area I’m keeping (relatively) up to date with:

The Walkman Effect

Posted on by
Reply

Sony Walkman advert from 1979. 

At once one of the most insanely fascinating and traumatically uncomfortable images I’ve ever seen. A simpler time, for rollerskaters and on-the-fly music lovers alike. And this isn’t even the most enthralling part: enter, the Walkman effect. This refers to “the way music listened to via headphones allows the user to gain more control over their environment“, something we’ve all experienced at least once in our iDriven lives.

download

Initial models that featured two headphone jacks even included something called a “hotline” switch which, when pressed, activated a microphone which lowered the volume in order to allow those listening to have a conversation without removing their headphones. How’s that for innovation?

img_270267_34600655_0

Of course, criticisms regarding the potential isolating factors involved in the worldly detachment achieved through plugging and playing cropped up, but how can one even consider the potential for narcissism when they’re tied ear-to-ear, arm-in-arm with their best friend in the whole wide world? and they can chat on the way? Unreal.

On Radiohead

Posted on by
Reply

♪ music for your reading pleasure ♪

Here I am, sitting at my desk with coffee in hand, body teeming with that surge of irritability that a lack of sleep pushes out, headphones in, Apple Music on and delivering to me what I’ve been waiting for so eagerly for the past few days; A Moon Shaped Pool. Radiohead’s ninth record.

It’s an odd predicament because I would hardly even call myself a die hard fan, yet last night I attempted to sleep from 9:30pm until the album’s release at 4:00am. It just felt right (at the time at least). There are large portions of their discography that I haven’t even come close to listening to (I downloaded their last 3 LPs only this week) but something about the very prospect of a new Radiohead album at this point in time just drew me in. It’s possible that it came right at a time when I was at the peak of my music-listening period (James Blake, Skepta, Car Seat Headrest and Death Grips all released albums (/had albums leak) this week) and I’ve dedicated a lot more time than usual to tuning into these entries.

And of course, part of this plenitude of excitement is due to their release methods; hiatus following their last album tour until a little something something I like to call their greatest contribution to cinema that never existed, their rejected Spectre theme song. The radioplay this got (among my repetition of the song that came every time I opened iTunes) could definitely be attributed to creating this deep-seeded enthusiasm towards the band. Following that, another period of silence until May 1st, where complete social media extermination from the band gave a few hints towards something new, and BANG BANG: May 3rd we got Burn the Witch and May 6th we got Daydreaming and an album release date. And here we are now, May 9th with the entirety of A Moon Shaped Pool in our unworthy ears. First new Radiohead LP in 5 years and it’s over like that.

My 4am alarm-setting venture didn’t work out in the end–I slept briskly from 9:30 to ~10:40, pissed around on my laptop from then until 1:30 with the idea of a 4am start still swirling through my mind. When it came down to business, I unconsciously hit snooze on my alarm, woke up at 4:10, checked their Facebook page and saw that it was out, checked Apple Music and saw that it wasn’t, and dozed back off. Mission partly accomplished. Big ups to the boys at Radiohead HQ for somehow convincing me through their musical endeavours and marketing genius that it was a good idea in the first place.

Movies I’ve watched this week – 06/05/16

Posted on by
Reply

Week #9. This week, I passed up the opportunity to see Salo, The Grand Illusion, and Foolish Wives all in 35mm and chose to go see a 70-minute long jazz session and a drunken screening of American Psycho played on a projected through a laptop in the backyard of a bar. I don’t regret it.

 

The Secret of Nimh (1982) dir. Don Bluth
02/05/16
rewatch

Written for Letterboxd: 

A film which by name alone reminds me so much of my time at primary school; I vividly remember my teacher reading the original book to us as we lazed on the classroom floor in the afternoons. It seems I took a particular interest in it, and somehow convinced mum or dad to rent this out (more than likely on VHS). My childhood was no short of haunting, animated tales of the animal kingdom’s underbelly (I’m looking at you, Watership Down). As a kid, I remember this differing greatly from the book, and oddly enough now I barely have any recollection of the majority of events that unfold here (I saw scenes in my head that don’t even happen; I guess I’ll take that as a testament O’Brien’s original writing). Moments that struck me with that sweet, sweet nostalgia tended to surround Jeremy the Crow and his jerky, almost dance-like animation (“If I was anywhere near a cat, I’d be sneezing my brains out” and his subsequent sneezing fit is permanently imprinted in my mind) and the rat’s transformation sequence. I think I can attribute my first knowledge of pneumonia to Timmy’s case of it too, this plot point stays lodged in my brain. Radiating confidence from its very first frame, throughout its well-rounded ~80 minute runtime, and keeps this light on until its very last. ★★★★

Jazz ’34 (1997) dir. Robert Altman
02/05/16

Written for Letterboxd:

In one of my previous Altman reviews, I likened his films to a live concert:

a profound sensory experience, loud and unforgiving, and always inhabited by some of the most absurd people you’ve ever seen–and you can’t help but savour every moment

and here, the film literally is just that. 70 minutes of unstoppable, unshakable, foot-tapping, free-flowing jazz deliciousness interspersed with fleeting anecdotal jazzy (for lack of a better word) voiceover so silky smooth it could melt your ears right off the sides of your face. When a director has the power to house a ~100-person strong cinema with a film like this, it can truly be said that he is a maverick and master of American cinema. Bless you, Robert Altman. ★★★★★, I don’t give a damn.

The Age of Innocence (1993) dir. Martin Scorsese
03/05/16

Written for Letterboxd:

Cinema of the voice, where dialogue is constant, always veiled in lies and irises, and clouded head to toe in elaborately layered attires in a film which feels at once the most and least Scorsese-y. Moves at a pace which burns so swiftly though its runtime that I can’t help but harbour an eternal appreciation for long-time Scorsese collaborator Thelma Schoonmaker whose editing and pacing truly shines right here and now. Rapid, successive dissolves add to the film’s flourishing visual tone which is so obviously (and not particularly detrimentally) a 90s rendition of late 19th century America. More cinematic than its illusory poster would suggest.

Written for my blog, now: 

I was the only person in my cinema class who ‘liked’ this? I’ve read criticisms that say that this film is just 3 blocks of wood talking, which is a great laugh, and I can totally understand why people would struggle to find enjoyment in this. I’m still confused as to why it appealed to me so much; I had to wake myself up for the 8:30am screening, breakfast-less, totally not in the mood for a 140-minute period piece drama (my least favourite genre) and I loooooooooooved it. They’re screening this in about a month’s time at ACMI in 35mm, so you’ll be seeing me there. ★★★★

American Psycho (2000) dir. Mary Harron 
04/05/16

Shoutout to Nighthawks Open Air Cinema in Collingwood for delivering the goods; attended this free, cutesy little screening in the back garden/patio area of the bar with some mates and had a ball. You’ll be seeing me in a fortnight’s time, Nighthawks. I kinda love American Psycho. For a fleeting period it sat as my all time favourite, and while my tastes have definitely expanded tenfold it still holds a little sweet spot in my heart. And it’s hilarious; the effect that watching something with an eager crowd has on your enjoyment is revolutionary. Marry me, Christian Bale, you handsome psycho you. ★★★★★

The Sounds of Silence

Posted on by
Reply

Sound–the underappreciated little brother of video, of image. Just yesterday I helped a friend out on his short film, a situation where I was in control of sound recording, and I’ve since come around (in combination with another interview project I completed for class) to the importance of the medium. It’s a fidgety, delicate element of cinema and one that requires the greatest of care–as anyone who’s worked on anything surrounding it is sure to know.

As a Robert Altman devotee, I can speak for the value of the medium; Altman was renowned for his accomplishments in sound in cinema, producing a multitrack recording technique which presented overlapping dialogue from his multiple actors, wholly emphasising a balance between style and realism in the sonic area. It wasn’t uncommon in an Altman production for all actors on set to be hooked up to a mic, and many never knew whether they were being recorded or not.

A small note from Bordwell and Thompson’s reading this week struck me as particularly interesting, something I had possibly noticed in passing when watching big action blockbuster films: “Most contemporary sound mixers drop in about a half-second of silence just before explosions and other loud noises.” It seems like a deathly obvious thing but its ingenious power can truly be felt in films like Fury Road or Blackhat.

Vivre sa vie‘s sound strikes a balance between naturalistic (dialogue, environmental sound–many French New Waves catered to this style) and highly artificial (scoring), and this contrast has only left me wanting to follow Godard’s works only more.

“My body is an ugly masterpiece that lives off the beauty of sound.” – Chad Sugg