The Screengrab : syndromes and a century

Screengrab Review: "Tokyo!"

Nick Schager — Wed, 04 Mar 2009 16:00:00 GMT

Omnibus films are typically uneven endeavors, comprised as they are of assorted works usually linked by only one common thread. And true to form, Tokyo!, a compilation of three short films by renowned directors Michel Gondry, Leos Carax and Bong Joon-Ho, isn’t an entirely consistent affair. Yet lurking within these Tokyo-set narratives does lie a shared pulsating thread of isolation. In this surprisingly rich anthology, it’s not merely location that proves the primary connective tissue, but a sense of individuals – on a personal and collective scale – struggling to cope with detachment from themselves, their fellow citizens, and their surroundings. Manifesting itself in ways fanciful, austere, unsettling, absurd and magic-realist, this lonely condition may be treated in tonally dissimilar ways by this trio of diverse tales, yet a strain of solitude, and of literal and figurative aimlessness, nonetheless helps this triptych’s vignettes coalesce into an affectingly atmospheric portrait of the city and its inhabitants.

Neither outstanding nor disappointing, Gondry and Bong’s contributions instead prove intriguing, if up-and-down, examples of two directors refining and/or broadening their typical purview. “Interior Design,” about a couple who temporarily move into the cramped metro flat of a friend while the guy (Ryo Kase) attempts to launch a film career and the girl (Ayako Fujitani) searches for her life’s path, is a far more reserved, un-romantic examination of artistic invention for Gondry, who avoids outright whimsy in his depiction of self-definition as a highly personal act of creativity. Poking fun at cinematic pretentions, casting Tokyo as an impersonal, restrictive-box environment, and wrapping up his story with an unexpected quirk of fate that’s less adorable than quietly contemplative, Gondry’s segment may not be as effervescent as The Science of Sleep or Be Kind Rewind, nor substantial enough to earn intense emotional engagement. Still, there’s something gently moving about his female protagonist’s achievement of purpose through surrealistic physical transformation.

A tad less successful is Bong’s “Shaking Tokyo,” hinging as it does on some too-cute elements that grate rather than endear. Bong’s short focuses on a shut-in (Teruyuki Kagawa) known as a “hikikimori” who’s spent the past eleven years holed up in his apartment, avoiding even eye contact with the delivery people who bring him his weekly pizza. When he catches a glimpse of the pizza girl’s (Yu Aoi) garter belt, and then instinctively looks into her eyes, his sheltered world begins to truly crumble, the earth vigorously shaking in an excessively on-the-nose manifestation of the character’s inner change. Bong’s compositions are as spatially immaculate as his protagonist’s sterile, neatly arranged living abode, but between the girl’s computer-button tattoos – which activate her, like a Mac – and the everyone’s-a-recluse finale, “Shaking Tokyo” feels a tad too obvious in its address of estrangement, at least until the piercing, almost-redeeming penultimate shot of a hand attempting to shield one’s eyes from the sun’s wavering rays.

And then there’s Leos Carax’s crazy, ambiguous, go-for-broke middle segment “Merde.” In his first work since 1999’s Pola X, Carax opens with a Hitchcockian scene-setting cinematographic tour through Tokyo’s skyscrapers that winds down as an iris-shot of a manhole, from which emerges a disheveled Caucasian man (a freakish-looking Denis Lavant) with a twisted goatee, long filthy fingernails, and one milky white eye. In a subsequent, superlative tracking shot, this monster storms down a crowded city street stealing and consuming cigarettes, chrysanthemums, and money, all set to the score from Godzilla. After massacring innocents with grenades, Merde (as he’s known) is captured in the sewers where he dwells, and subsequently defended in court by a French lawyer (Jean-François Balmer) with similar physical characteristics who – as evidenced by an insanely protracted, un-translated chat with Merde – can speak the madman’s gibberish language. Living amidst WWII tanks and armaments, and suspected by the Americans and Japanese of involvement with al-Qaeda and the Aum cult (respectively), Merde proves a shrewdly amorphous stand-in for irrational terrorism, right through both his trial (in which he admits to hating “innocent people” and slanders the Japanese for having eyes that resemble “woman’s sex”) and an arresting execution sequence that’s deft enough to both evoke Syndromes and a Century and playfully set up an American-set sequel.

Cannes 2008: Meet the Jury!

Paul Clark — Thu, 24 Apr 2008 15:00:00 GMT

Yesterday, The Screengrab was the 152nd blog on the web to post the Competition slate for next month's Cannes Film Festival. But before you start predicting the winners sight unseen, we suggest you get to know the members of the Competition jury. That way you'll know whose names to curse when your favorite filmmaker gets smoked by some little-known furriner whose name you can't pronounce.

This year's Cannes Competition Jury:

Sean Penn (Jury President) is a filmmaker of some note, directing four films since his 1990 debut, The Indian Runner. His most recent film is the memorably Oscar-snubbed Into the Wild. When not behind the camera, Penn is also known for his political and charitable work, which has taken him to Iran and to the post-Katrina New Orleans. Penn has also been known to act on occasion.

Sergio Castellitto has appeared in several films in Competition, including 2001's Va Savoir and 2002's The Religion Hour (My Mother's Smile). Once referred to by Screengrab favorite Mike D'Angelo as "maybe the most underrated thesp alive," he also starred in the popular Mostly Martha, better known as No Reservations, Except Good. Castellitto has also directed two features, including the 2004 film Don't Move, in which he exercised his director's clout in order to give himself several love scenes with Penelope Cruz.

Natalie Hershlag, alternately known as Natalie Portman, made her big-screen debut at age 13 in Luc Besson's The Professional, sometimes referred to as Léon by various talkbackers on Ain't It Cool News. Since that time, she has become one of the most sought-after actresses of her generation, particularly among horny fanboys who despair that she will never get completely naked onscreen. Hershlag is set to make her directorial debut in this year's omnibus film New York, I Love You, where her short film will appear alongside new works by such acclaimed filmmakers as Brett Ratner and Scarlett Johansson. She also wants you to know that the Shins will totally change your life.

Alfonso Cuaron first gained international critical attention with his 1995 film A Little Princess, and subsequent films like Y Tu Mama Tambien and Children of Men have proven him a formidable talent (he also allegedly made a low-budget adaptation of a little-known English fantasy novel, but no one knows what became of this). In 2006, his high-profile friendship with fellow Mexican filmmakers Guillermo Del Toro and Alejandro Gonzalez Iñarritu let to the trio briefly becoming known as "The Three Amigos" for several months before they were sued by Chevy Chase, Martin Short and Steve Martin.

Apichatpong Weerasethakul has such a long name that I run the risk of hitting my character limit simply by typing it. Luckily for me, he prefers to simply be called "Joe." Joe has garnered widespread critical acclaim for his whimsical, magical-realist films, which include Mysterious Object at Noon, Blissfully Yours, and Syndromes and a Century. His 2004 film Tropical Malady won the Jury Prize at Cannes, and Roger Ebert called the film "a meditation on portentous but incoherent themes." By which we're guessing he meant "awesome."

Alexandra Maria Lara, a ravishing Romanian who moved to Germany at age 4, made her movie debut at 16. However, the role that brought her international acclaim came in 2004's Downfall, in which she portrayed Hitler's personal secretary Traudl Junge. Since then, she costarred in Francis Ford Coppola's Youth Without Youth and in last year's Ian Curtis biopic Control, where she met current boyfriend Sam Riley (isn't that cute?). Lara will next appear in Stephen Daldry's The Reader, as well as taking a supporting role in Spike Lee's WWII drama Miracle at St. Anna, a role you won't find out about by looking her up on IMDb.

Rachid Bouchareb is a French director-producer who last appeared at Cannes with his 2006 drama Days of Glory. In addition to his own films, he has also produced the work of numerous other filmmakers, including all four features to date by Bruno Dumont. Sorry, I have nothing humorous to say about this guy.

So there you have it. Seven jury members, down from nine last year. How will they vote? Will Penn insist on a political bent, or at least something appeals to his artier side? Will Cuaron stump for his fellow Latin Americans? Which Bouchareb will show up- the one who directed the rousing WW2 or the guy who produces Bruno Dumont movies? Will Joe gravitate to fellow talking-primate lover Charlie Kaufman? Will the paparazzi devote most of their attention to Portman and Lara (yes, they will)? Let the blind prognosticating commence in 5, 4, 3...

DVD Digest for January 15, 2008

Paul Clark — Tue, 15 Jan 2008 15:00:00 GMT

This week's DVD Digest is a bit slow for new Hollywood fare, but the wide array of foreign-language films and classics should more than compensate.

DVD of the Week: This week's most intriguing new DVD for lovers of classic film is Eclipse Series 7: Post-War Kurosawa. The Criterion Collection launched Eclipse last year to distribute box sets of their lesser-known titles, from semi-forgotten works of acknowledged masters (Ingmar Bergman) to films by more obscure auteurs (Raymond Bernard), in modestly-priced editions. Post-War Kurosawa is certainly in that vein, spotlighting five of the director's early films, made between 1946 and 1955. The films run the gamut from courtroom dramas to political epics, with nary a samurai in sight. Of particular interest is 1946's No Regrets for Our Youth, Kurosawa's first film after World War II and his first of two collaborations with Ozu's muse Setsuko Hara. Other films in the set are I Live in Fear (1955), The Idiot (1951), One Wonderful Sunday (1947), and Scandal (1950). As with all Eclipse releases, there are no features to speak of in the Post-War Kurosawa box, but in my mind, the chance to delve into an as-yet-underexplored corner of a master filmmaker's career is special enough.

As I said before, it's a light week for recent Hollywood releases. Aside from the double feature of New Line's Mr. Woodcock and Lionsgate's Good Luck Chuck (also available on Blu-Ray, a DVD duo for those with more money than sense), you're pretty much stuck with direct-to-DVD fare like Sony's Already Dead and Love Lies Bleeding, and MGM's Wedding Daze. However, for the more arthouse-oriented buyer, I would recommend the Region 1 release of Apichatpong Weerasethakul's Syndromes and a Century (Strand). a movie which came this close to cracking my top 10 of 2007.

New TV on DVD includes The New Adventures of Old Christine, Season 1 (Warner), The Rockford Files Season 5, and the latest installment in the seemingly deathless phenomenon, Family Guy Presents: Blue Harvest. Wow, a Family Guy special with plenty of pop-culture references- who saw that coming?

But don't fret. This week finds a solid selection of classics for your home viewing pleasure. Criterion is represented by a snazzy edition of Cornel Wilde's The Naked Prey (1966). MGM is finally releasing on DVD Spike Lee's 1986 breakthrough She's Gotta Have It. You can gear up for the upcoming Oscar nominations with 1967's Best Picture winner In the Heat of the Night in a new 40th Anniversary Edition from MGM. You could spend time with romance favorites classic (Fox's An Affair to Remember 50th Anniversary Edition) and modern (MGM's When Harry Met Sally Collector's Edition). Or you can even geek out with Sony's Ray Harryhausen double feature Earth vs. the Flying Saucers and It Came From Beneath the Sea, both available in two-disc special editions. But you get my point. Don't let the lack of contemporary releases get you down- there are plenty of classics to keep you going all week.

Top Ten of 2007: Leonard Pierce

Leonard Pierce — Thu, 03 Jan 2008 17:00:00 GMT

Unlike many of my fellow bloggers here at the Screengrab, who live in urbane, sophisticated metropoli, I make my home in San Antonio, Texas. We have a ratio of approximately one movie theatre for every million people here, and "art house" is just what the locals call a museum. I hear if we play our cards right, we might be getting a one-week screening next year of that movie The Graduate all the cool kids are talking about, but until then, it's pretty much Transformers on nineteen of the twenty-four screens down at Huebner Oaks. So you'll forgive me if my list leans pretty heavily on stuff that's already available on Netflix; at least half the movies on my list were ones that I had to drive an hour up to Austin to even have a chance of seeing before their DVD release, and there's more than a few movies that likely would have a chance of appearing here (I think specifically of There Will Be Blood and Syndromes and a Century) that there was simply no way for me to see before the year was up. Still, I'll be happy to go along with the prevailing wisdom that 2007 was an especially rich year for film; there was plenty to see, even if you had to go out of your way to see it.

#10: THE LIVES OF OTHERS (Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, dir.)

Although it was released in 2006, this masterful film from Germany didn't receive an American audience outside of the Telluride Film Festival until February. It was well worth the wait. Far too many movies that pick up Best Foreign Film Oscars are the international doppelgangers of Best Picture winners -- overblown, overpraised, middlebrow 'prestige' pictures lacking in resonance, depth and any particular qualities that will result in their being remembered far down the line. But The Lives of Others -- best thought of as a brilliant reworking of The Conversation against the dreadful backdrop of Soviet East Germany -- deserved every bit of praise heaped on it by critics both here and abroad. It's a stunning, terrifying film, brilliantly illustrating Hannah Arendt's 'banality of evil' in the person of the astonishing Ulrich Mühe.

#9: SWEENEY TODD, THE DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET (Tim Burton, dir.)

One of the few of a year-end spate of high-profile films that I actually got a chance to see, Sweeney Todd is Tim Burton's adaptation of the notoriously blood-soaked and difficult Stephen Sondheim musical. I've never been especially fond of Tim Burton as a director, but the qualities of his filmmaking that usually work against him -- the broad emotional strokes, the barely-held-together plots, the characters as caricatures, and the meticulous set design at the expense of believability -- are turned into such strengths that it's hard to believe no one ever had the idea of having him do a musical before this. The result is certainly the best film he's ever done and likely the best film he'll ever do, an absolutely gorgeous thing to look at, and with some surprisingly fine performances. One of the best musicals I've ever seen.

#8: EASTERN PROMISES (David Cronenberg, dir.)

Conversely, I've long been a staunch defender of David Cronenberg's, even with films like Crash and Spider, which met with widespread revulsion from a lot of my fellow critics. Unfortunately, I found his most celebrated film -- 2005's A History of Violence -- sadly lacking, a formulaic and uninspiring drama that bore so little of his unique imprint as a filmmaker that it could have been directed by almost anyone. If the Russian mob drama Eastern Promises isn't strong enough to stand alongside his greatest works, though, it's at least a return to form and a revisiting of some of the themes -- muddled self-identity, the grace and brutality of violence, and a simultaneous revulsion at and fascination with the human body -- that have made him one of the signature talents of the day. Plus, naked Viggo Mortensen, ladies!

#7: BEFORE THE DEVIL KNOWS YOU'RE DEAD (Sidney Lumet, dir.)

If you'd have told me last year -- hell, if you'd told me twenty years ago -- that one of the best film of 2007 would be by ancient journeyman Sidney Lumet, I'd likely have scoffed. But damned if the old trooper doesn't turn in a remarkably swift and sure-handed job behind the helm here, presenting a neo-noir thriller about a simple caper gone disastrously wrong that wouldn't be entirely out of place in the early 1960s and yet never loses a fresh sense of modernity. Before the Devil Knows You're Dead isn't a groundbreaking piece of cinema art; it's simply an assured, highly professional piece of moviemaking of the sort we rarely see anymore, and which Lumet is eminently qualified to give us. It's further bolstered by a dynamite performance from Philip Seymour Hoffman, who has simply owned 2007 on screen.

#6: LUST, CAUTION (Ang Lee, dir.)

Ang Lee continues to be the most versatile moviemaker in the business with his best work since Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon; if he is absolute master of no genre, he at least never ceases to amaze with his ability to dive confidently into all genres. Bouyed by astonishing performances so tightly controlled and confidently directed that they seem drawn from lost Wong Kar-Wei footage, Lust, Caution maintains a killing pace throughout and doesn't fail to deliver on its near-constant sense of tension and frustration. The much-discussed sex scenes are indeed intense and scarily erotic, but they also accomplish something that's so rarely done that it's become an industry joke: they're not arbitrary, but essential, not only to the plot, but also to the slow but inexorable revelation of the nature of the characters.

#5: THE DIVING BELL AND THE BUTTERFLY (Julian Schnabel, dir.)

I was never fond of Julian Schnabel, the visual artist, and while I thought that his debut film, Basquiat, showed promise, I tended to agree with the New York art critic Robert Hughes, who called it a movie about the worst painter of the 1980s made by the second worst. I'm not sure what Hughes has to say about The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, but I think it's an amazing film by a director who's finally come into full posession of the tools of his craft. Schnabel has said that he still considers himself an artist first and a director second, but this visually rewarding, complex and beautiful movie is better than anything he ever put to canvas, and even without the tremendous lead performance by Mathieu Amalric, it would be a film worth watching for its mastery of internal landscapes far richer than Schabel's art ever suggested.

#4: MANUFACTURED LANDSCAPES (Jennifer Baichwal, dir.)

In what is widely regarded as a banner year for documentaries, the finest one I saw had nothing to do with the war in Iraq, the peccadilloes of the president, or the politics of personality. Instead, it was a little-seen film about a little-known photographer named Edward Burtynsky. His photographs -- and the like-minded film by Jennifer Baichwal -- document the vastness and power of man-made constructs, and convey the awe and the terror one feels at observing objects, from China's Three Gorges Dam to American junkyards, that are made by the hand of humans but can dwarf or even overwhelm the natural surroundings in which they appear. A slow-paced, deliberate, and provocative film made as a collaboration between two artists who understand each other in an perfectly asynchronous way.

#3: ZODIAC (David Fincher, dir.)

Much has been made of the fact that David Fincher, best known for his visual pyrotechnics, allegedly made his most successful film without them. That's not entirely true; among other scenes, the opening drive-by tracking shot, the first murders, and the construction montage of the San Francisco skyline can stand next to some of the most stylish set-pieces in his other films. But it's undeniable that his best film to date, and one of the best films of the year, is at its best when he simply stands back and lets the audience become spellbound with the absorbing interplay of his characters. A fascinating treatment of the nature of obsession and a subtle treatise on the way we become ensnared in the grotesque and the perverse, Zodiac is revelatory in the way it defies expectations of what a serial-killer drama should be.

#2: BRAND UPON THE BRAIN! (Guy Maddin, dir.)

Guy Maddin has been quietly establishing himself as one of the finest, most idiosyncratic directors in the world for several years now, and Brand Upon the Brain! is both his most autobiographical film to date (the lead character in the film is, well, Guy Maddin, ably and amusingly played by young Sullivan Brown) and his best. There was some fear amongst critics who had a chance to see it in its 'touring edition' -- a live extravaganza featuring on-site music, celebrity voice-overs and sound effects composed right there in the theater -- that the film wouldn't hold up without all the show-stopping theatrical gimmicks, but they needn't have worried: this is the purest distilliation of Maddin's unique sensibilities as a filmmaker: sexual obsession, throwback surrealism, fantastic dreamscapes, and madness as part of the everyday.

#1: NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN (Joel & Ethan Coen, dirs.)

There are plenty of filmmakers who would trade their favorite limb for a track record like Joel and Ethan Coen -- from 1984 to 2001, they didn't make a bad film, and the 9 features they put in the can over those 17 years add up to the most robust corpus by any living American filmmaker you can name. Things started to go awry with Intolerable Cruelty and The Ladykillers; many placed the blame on the fact that, for the first time, the Coens were filming material they didn't write. That's not a problem with No Country for Old Men, a triumphant masterpiece of genre filmmaking based on a minor Cormac McCarthy novel that once again places the brothers (credited, for the first time ever, as co-directors) where they belong: at the very pinnacle of American moviemaking. An astonishing comeback that will be discussed for decades.