Thoughts on La Strada

Tuesday, August 31, 2010 9:28 PM By Simon

-A naive young (Giulietta Masina) is sold by her impoverished mother to the brutish strongman (Anthony Quinn) to replace her previously sold sister Rosa, now dead. The two go on the road as part of his show, which consists of puffing his chest until a chain breaks and some comedy stuff.

-Giulliette Masina is like the female Chaplin. Her character here, often going from silly and clownish to depressed and miserable, an abused stooge to Anthony Quinn's asshole one-man circus, and you just want to give her a hug, she's just so sad. She'll smile at the strangest times, this delirious smile that could either lead to a laugh or a cry.

-Anthony Quinn's character, as mentioned, is a douchebag. Although Masina is eager to help and learn, he still relies on outright cruelty to train her to be a good assistant, and rarely, if ever, treats her kindly. Quinn makes a good tough guy, though.

-A lighthearted tone even as situations get direly depressing, and a simple story that gets more complicated if you try to analyze it, as often will happen. Poetic, an vibe that it is incomplete, a lukewarmness, you'll laugh in the face of the movie's...not nihilism. Anti-optimism.

-Next time I get a pet, I'm naming it Il Matto.

-Seriously, go Il Matto.

Can South Park be cute?

6:04 PM By Simon

The answer is yes.

Oh, god, they're hideous!

3:26 PM By Simon

Tell me, guy who photoshopped this picture to such gross lengths: can we not agree that Angelina Jolie and Johnny Depp have aged extremely well? Are we really at a stage where we have to airbrush publicity stills of movies starring very prolific actors because they're over 29?

Terribly sorry I've not written anything to sufficiently blow your minds, as I often do (ahem). I've been busy moping about the less-than-two-weeks-impending school year, in which I will continue my run of mediocre grades and slight social pariah. So yeah. In honor of such, I'm, like, talking about the best high school movies. So...suggestions, take it to the comments, yo.

(now, I know I did this one other time, and I forgot to actually write the post, but fuck you, I have a reason for this! Don't back sass me!)

I love this song

1:02 AM By Simon



Don't judge me.

Thoughts on The Red Riding Trilogy

Monday, August 30, 2010 7:22 PM By Simon

-A crime drama delving into murder, obsession, and corruption, spanning nine years. Stars, among others, Andrew Garfield, Sean Bean, David Morrissey, Patty Considine, and Mark Addy, and consisting of three parts (In the Year of Our Lord 1974/80/83) by three different directors (Julian Jarrold, James Marsh, Anand Tucker).

-The first part, 1974, follows a young reporter (Andrew Garfield) assigned the story of a young girl gone missing, then murdered, thinking he has an editorial on his hands when he uncovers other murders of that nature, but finds himself captive of a layers-deep conspiracy among the Yorkshire police.

-A grim piece, filmed in grainy 16 mm and color-schemed to dullness, even when people wear bright clothes. Nonetheless, Jarrold ruthlessly immerses you in this hopeless, cigarrette-stained 70s world, you can smell the cheap cologne and sweat in a bar, the burnt garbage of a destroyed gypsy camp, the sleazy cleanness (yeah...) of a nice house with lots of secrets.

-Providing the emotion of this film is Rebecca Hall, as the mother of one of the missing girls. Fragile and long past heartbroken, she regards even those she comes to trust with a weary cynicism, though you can see happiness she once must've exuded, making her character all the more tragic.

-Andrew Garfield is fine, great in places, though the only thing I wonder is how he will go to playing a high schooler in the Spider-Man reboot. I've seen this now, and apologetically adult role, and I'll always see him like that now, dammit.

-He does get beaten up a lot.

-The biggest credit to the supporting actors is that they blend into the background, essential to making the lead feel all the more isolated as he goes along. I think.

-A noir at it's finest.

-The second part, 1980, is, I think, the worst, just because it is so clinical and procedural, spending more time in the police station that out investigating. Paddy Considine is amazing here, though.

-The third part, 1983, wraps everything up, a redemption for three characters, two supporting or background for the first parts, one a new one with connection to these.

-The most interesting of these is the young male prostitute (Robert Sheehan)...in the first part, he has a small role, the flamboyant friend of Eddie (Andrew Garfield)'s friend Barry (Anthony Flanagan), who was murdered after already confessing his fears. He gives Eddie 'Barry's life's work', revealing the deep police corruption within the city, before skulking away and making a small, literally out-of-focus appearance in the very end. In the second part, he is noticeably more subdued, the pink streaks in his hair and flashy 70s clothes gone, a slightly mad, more so mournful look in his eye, tipping Paddy Considine's detective Hunter to the possibly police-staged copy-cat murder of his friend, a barmaid and prostitute. Both of his appearances in this one are quiet and revealing and over-the-top elusive. Right.

-The third part (because that paragraph is way too long), he plays one of three roles, narrating the story in rhyme. He now appears completely off his rocker, his (ahem) career as a hustler at a crossroads, and his part in the entire conspiracy finally revealed, going by train to a destination left to be revealed. Going any farther would be a spoiler, so, y'know, there's that. Just thought it was brilliantly staged and acted, his development throughout the almost-ten years of this story.

-In the third act, Mark Addy, playing a two-bit solicitor (layer) John Piggot, who's dad was a police officer named 'The Pig', and Maurice Jobson (David Morrissey), a bit character from the first two, detective shown to have a knowledge of all the shit that went down, and at times, a reluctant participant, now haunted by guilt.

-Um...yes. The ending was really very lovely, I'm glad they gave it some hope.

-Sorry this couldn't be better, but I'm fucking tired.

So Guess Where This Music's From

7:22 PM By Simon



And you get my approval or something.

Literal space opera (like one with singing) needs some money, so get on that

3:07 PM By Simon

Specifically, they need 'experienced grantwriters' to finish production on a thing called 'K'ai, Death of Dreams'. He, composer Richard DeCosta, put out an ad on Craigslist, released some of the music, and the synopsis:

K'ai is a young Uadaman (alien), and though sick and frail physically, has a mind, sharp and clear, has mastery over his dreams, and is in contact with an alien presence through them. He is, however, not special. He is not chosen. K'ai is quite simply the first to discover the truth about the origins of his race: The fact that they were created many thousands of years ago, for the purpose of slavery, and the first to put together the thousands of years old puzzle of how to escape their current spiritual capture. As slaves, K'ai's ancestors were treated cruelly by their masters, the Garx, who were viewed as gods.

Although initially the Uadaman made the lives of the Garx easier and richer, the slaves eventually became unruly and ultimately revolted. The Garx was decided that they were more trouble than help, and they were abandoned on the harsh, unforgiving planet on which they were created. Prutoztur, a guardian "god", and brother to their creator, Zroetur, was charged with keeping them from physical and spiritual escape, from the truth of their heritage, and more importantly, from discovering the true nature of their spiritual existence.

K'ai, many thousands of years later, becomes possessed with the idea of freeing his race from their spiritual bondage, and in exacting revenge on their creators and captors. K'ai is joined by several like-minded scientists, philosophers and mercenaries who roam the planet in a hijacked ship, in search of answers, and ultimately, escape. In his quest for freedom, K'ai ultimately learns that the only way his race can be truly free is to prevent reincarnation and birth altogether, and thus ends up becoming the catalyst for a cult of mass murderers seeking to ultimately kill every living creature on the planet, thus ensuring that no soul will ever again be captured.
I want to see this thing, so pass this bit o' news along. For more details, go to io9

Rod Serling long-lost interview Part 1

2:53 PM By Simon

Thoughts on Penelope

11:50 AM By Simon

-A girl (Christina Ricci), thanks to a generations-old family curse, is born with a pig snout and ears. Put into isolation for 20-something years, with her family sending her a constant barrage of suitors (hoping to break the curse), who all go running when they finally see her, she grows weary of the constant rejection and loneliness. And then comes Johnny (James McAvoy), a plant by Lemon (Peter Dinklage), a reporter who lose his eye in a quest to get a picture of Penelope when she was a baby, who...yeah.

-Why are people so horrified by Penelope, anyway? You can't see the years from under her hair, and the nose cannot take away from the fact that she's Christina fucking Ricci. If I saw her in the street, I wouldn't give a shit, because it's so fucking inconsequential. This is, like, the definition of Hollywood Homely.

-Richard E. Grant plays the kindly Dad. He is also awesome. As a general rule. And here.

-A cute, not really funny, but pleasant movie.

This is from Cracked

11:48 AM By Simon

Sigh...

Thoughts on The Girlfriend Experience

Saturday, August 28, 2010 9:19 PM By Simon

-An escort who specializes in 'the girlfriend experience'--providing feigned emotional intimacy with her clients on top of sexual, a literal companion--goes about her job and her boyfriend, a personal trainer, over the background of the 2008 economic crisis and election.

-Sasha Grey. She is a porn star. This has been the main gimmick the ads have pushed. It would imply that there's tons of sexay times to be had in this, which is just not true. She's naked once in the entire movie, and it is in an entirely non sexual context. Oh, sure, skimpy lingerie here and there, but for the most part, director Steven Soderberg (my latest director obsession) does not exploit the fact that she's an (ahem) adult actress. Getting that out of the way.

-Anyway, I'm mixed about her performance. Her line delivery can, at times, be brutally flat (such as when she has an argument with her boyfriend), and at others, she can excellently balance the coldness of her profession and the conflict that's going on in her own head. I could say that in this movie, she is cold and dull, unaided by some lifeless dialogue. But, when you think about it, it makes sense. She's an escort who's personal policy is to remain as emotionally distant as possible from her clients, a habit that falls into her personal life.

-Only someone who has had sex for money, in this case, a porn star, could've gotten that across. Let's face it, had they gotten a 'legitimate' actress for the role, someone--the actress, the director--would've turned it into a bitchy role, made the main character unlikeable, that or a typical 'woe-is-me-I'm-a-hooker-just-waiting-for-the-right-john-to-wisk-me-away-sob' character. Only once does she cry, and it is a striking scene, because by and large, her demeanor has been chilly and controlled, so when she finally does start belated emotions, you feel for her. You understand, completely, why emotional distance is necessary, something, again, I'm not sure could've been pulled off by anyone with less than personal experience.

-But then, Grey does a precarious balancing act between repressed emotional sincerity and narcissism.

-Anyway. The movie itself is a rather bleak look at human nature, but there is something strangely soulless about it. Grey does slightly elevate the dialogue, which is tedious and arbitrary (I guess the point, but whatever). The cinematography, glossy semi-shaky cam, makes the entire thing feel like a fashion shoot, alien and disconnected, but oh-so-pretty to look at.

-Another experimental Soderbergh movie that could've been great if it...I dunno. Good night.

Thoughts on The Big Sleep

7:21 PM By Simon

-I am torn about this movie: on the one hand, the plot is so convoluted not even the author of the book on which it was based (Raymond Chandler) could solve a particular death. Apparently, Lauren Bacall, in her autobiography, said that Bogart brought this up (basically, whether the chauffeur's death was a murder or a suicide), and 'everything stopped'. They asked Chandler, and he realized that he didn't know either. That's how damn confusing it was.

-But on the other hand, is that what we really care about? The plot? No, we're not watching The Big Sleep for it's intricate storytelling. We're watching for the dry, witty dialogue spat out from the side of the mouth, cohabitant with a cigarette. We're watching for saucy women being saucy, half-eviscerating their men with nothing more than a knowing glare. Men who neatly fall into the categories of 'anti-hero', 'enemy of anti-hero' or 'enemy of my enemy'. But most of all, we're watching for Bogie and Bacall's verbal sparring, their playful flirting and mutual suspicion. They own this movie, to be frank.

-I'm curious about this much-talked about Martha Vickers, who played Carmen, the 'nymphy' sister of Bacall's Vivien. Her scenes, for what's left of them, are fantastically acted, but I kind of want to see the ones that, supposedly, had her outshining Bacall. Her catchphrase in what made it to the theatrical cut, but the way, is basically 'You're cute'.

-I couldn't tell the men apart, okay? They all wore snazzy hats and suits, all spoke with the same hard-boiled sneer, all had the same basic build (except Bogart, of course. He is a tiny fella). All the supporting bad guys just blended together.

-Who the fuck killed the driver?

I have an anouncement

Friday, August 27, 2010 7:55 PM By Simon

In case you haven't noticed, my loves, I have an affinity for mustaches. Teddy is my Rock Star, as you can see on the cluttered ol' sidebar, my tagline welcomes the kind with open arms, and I have made no secret (to, uh, other people) that my fondness for Chuck Norris is purely superficial.

What I'm saying is, if you enjoy pictures like this:

You know you do

Then off you go to a magical land me and Sister have created. A land where, truly, the Facial Hair Afficianado can be himself (but not in a creepy way. Looking at you, Bill Sage). Hazzah!

The place, for those not feeling very clicky today (ahem), is Mustache Hall of Fame, http://wearemustache.blogspot.com/. The format isn't really done yet, and there's a noticeable lack of retinal appeal, and maybe every other appeal, but shut up. But tis ours.

So go! Go and marvel at the Stache!

(or not, I won't judge you)

Thoughts on Taboo

Thursday, August 26, 2010 5:44 PM By Simon

-At the start of the movie, the young and handsome Kanō Sōzaburō is admitted to the Shinsengumi (新撰組), an elite samurai police group led by Kondō Isami that seeks to defend the shogunate against reformist forces. He is a very skilled swordsman, but it is his appearance that makes many of the others in the (strictly male) group, both students and superiors, attracted to him, creating tension within the group of people vying for Kanō's affections.


-I'd say I hated this movie, but y'know, such a strong word. So I'm going to go with disliked very strongly.

-The performances are fine, guys. Ryuhei Matsuda, who plays Kano, is called androgynous even though he looks more girl than boy (if he cut his damn hair, on the other hand, but I suppose that is the point of his rather nefarious, though implied, intentions revealed later on), is good, especially since this is his first movie and he was, y'know, fifteen.

-How do teenage boys take roles like this? Do they get teased at school? At my school they'd probably get a load of shit.

-Beat Takeshi (acting name, guys, he doesn't direct) is fine, but I found his character annoying. The great majority of his dialogue and occasional narration (speaking of which, this voiceover thing was dropped in every once in awhile, and unnecessary) is him insisting that Kano and Tashiro (the other student brought into the dojo with Kano, and who kind of ambushes him in his sleep after, like, a month in, played by Tadanobu Asano) are 'lovers'. He says it so many times, and they so blatantly aren't (in the aforementioned ambushing, Kano threatens Tashiro with a dagger), it's just so silly.

-Has anyone else noticed that Kitano has a facial tick or something? Like, he's grimacing or winking or something, in everything he does, and I'm pretty sure it's involuntary, but, what's going on there?

-None of the other actors were very notable, to be honest.

-So, there was a much-ballyhooed (that's a word now. Deal with it) sodomy scene in this, and when I got to it, what's the big deal? Some thrusting under some covers, what the fuck ever.

-Anyway, why I didn't like the movie overall. The story was interesting, but poorly executed, and it took it's sweet time getting to the point. Director Nagisa Oshima slowly brings the movie from realistic to a fantasy-like enviroment, which is cool, but still. Boring and pointless and made for the sake of putting addressing the aspect of homosexuality among samurai, long ignored.

-Why is everyone saying that this was all homosexual 'subtext'? It's all they ever talked about, who Kano was doing (in fact, he was only doing one guy, and I'm pretty sure it was either rape or some kind of calculated maneuver on Kano's part) or how pretty he was or if so-and-so-or-I 'lean that way'. Some characters thrown in in the beginning, disappearing for half the movie, then showing up again and everyone acts like they've been really important to the story.

-It's just a mess. Could've been better, wasn't. Maybe I'm watching it wrong, but you know what? I don't wanna watch it again, so I guess we'll never know.

Thoughts on Memories

Wednesday, August 25, 2010 6:20 PM By Simon

-Three short anime films based on artist/director Katsuhiro Otomo's three manga short stories. Episode one, Magnetic Rose, follows a 2090-something era deep space salvage freighter, as it gets caught in the magnetic pull of a grandly-decked space station with an inhabitant that won't let them leave. Stink Bomb follows a young lab technician who, in an attempt to cure his flu, takes an experimental pill that causes him to emit a deadly odor, widespread panic ensuing. Cannon Fodder follows a day in the life of a father and son who live in a walled city perpetually at war, every building equipped with variously-sized cannons, always shooting at an enemy city that may or may not exist.

-I think these stories were put in the wrong order. I mean, you either (at least in my opinion) go in decreasing or increasing order of lightness or darkness.

-In order, the best I can describe each story is: a sci-fi, symphonic ghost/horror/love story/tragedy, a dark comedy/farce, and a dystopian quasi-steampunk tale.

-The first one: the best of the three, with actual adherence to space physics. Heartbreaking as the back stories of the two main characters (one of the ship crew, Heintz, and the inhabitant of the station) are revealed, their fates and that of the rest of the ship crew unraveling, a thrilling action/horror drama, and haunting, let's not forget haunting. Definitely the most intense, character-driven of the movie. Beautiful score and animation, especially the exterior shots of the station and ship.

-The second one: I'd call it the weakest episode by process of elimination. Certainly the most entertaining, and some scenes might've fallen into uber-serious, apocalyptic territory if not for the upbeat, (at times) Green Hornet-esque score. Interesting, detailed animation, a bit like Dr. Strangelove. I'd say that it was anti-American, as our representative for the crisis, the guy that requested the Japanese company make the pill that causes the destruction, is a flaming asshole, but then, the Japanese government/military is portrayed as incompetent, like, they try to kill the young man (and, therefore, the smell) by shooting guns of all creeds, bombs, missiles, what have you, and he doesn't get a mark on him. For example.

-The third one: the most visually inventive of the three, as the animation is drawn to resemble a complete long-shot, with no cuts and some amusing segues to different places. Story-wise, it's simple and surreal, with elements of 1984, viciously parodying 'the 20th century war machine', visually dedicated to the anonymous workers, who toil everyday keeping the cannons firing. Score orchestral and avant-garde-y.

-I wonder about nationalities here. Like the main character of Magnetic Rose , Heintz, who might be German (I mean, a space station crew has to be a tad multinational, right?). The Americans in Stink Bomb briefly talk in English, and you can tell, if you're an English speaker (which I assume is everyone reading this, anyway) that it's a couple Japanese voice actors speaking phonetically.

-As I said, animation good all around. I want the score on my iPod.

-Beautiful film, with completely different stories, and hey, no dubbing!

Thoughts on Bright Star

Tuesday, August 24, 2010 2:44 AM By Simon

-Because my brain hates reading sentences, it regularly sums up everything in one word, and sticks with it. I will share the word for this film with you, gentle civilians: dignified.

-Oh, sure, Paul Schneider is brilliantly boorish (boorishly brilliant?), albeit with a sketchy Scottish accent and what appears to be a sympathy pregnancy belt. And, yes, I'd normally be ripping on it as shameless Oscar bait, had it won any Oscars. But is it because it hadn't, because I love the cast, the cinematography, or that I'm just in a mood, that I don't hate this movie at all?

-Who else cried when Fanny (Abbie Cornish, who should've kicked Sandra Bullock's ass at the Oscars) got word of John Keat's (Ben Whishaw) death, one either too painful or too contrived to show on screen (he, in fact, never appears after leaving for Rome, save for a brief shot of him staring out a window all soulful and junk)? Her screaming and sobbing in hysterics, at a loss for breath and crying for her mother, juxtaposed immediately by her quietly sitting at a table, sewing. Things shouldn't be allowed to be so sad.

-Abbie Cornish, who manages to convey the instant love Fanny feels for John without making it trite or silly.

-Seriously, Ben Whishaw is so skinny, I worry. Here, he rivals the delicacy of the film itself (I'm almost afraid to criticise it, I fear it'll snap into dust at the mere whisper of a harsh word), every walk, every smile, every line spoken soft. But you can never get inside of his head (this is Fanny's point of view, after all), and that might be its fault.

-He and Fanny never pick a side of masculine or feminine roles in the chaste relationship. John is a feminine guy, intelligent but easily distracted, burdened but never showing it, while Fanny is a masculine girl, opinionated and fearless and in half-awe of Keats.

-Paul Schneider rocks. His and Fanny's verbal sparring are the highlights, surely.

-Never been a fan of Jane Campion, but I'll make an exception.

Thoughts on Together

Sunday, August 22, 2010 7:09 PM By Simon

-In the 70s, a small commune is is disrupted when their vaguely-defined leader's sister moves in with her kids, after leaving her violent husband.

-Stars, among others, the guy from The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo.

-Subtitles went off screen a bit.

-Lovely movie. Episodically following the lives of these commune residents, including: Erik (Olle Sari), a zealous socialist, former banker's son, longing to be among the 'common man', but hopelessly naive, Goran (Gustaf Hammarsten), the sweet-natured, pushover patriarch, Elisabeth (Lisa Lindgren), her teenage daughter longing for normalcy and her young son desperate to stay in touch with his father (Michael Nyqvist), and so on.

-Not exploitive to what could've been soft porn (70s-era suburban commune is such an easy topic to roll with), instead (ahem) following the characters interact, try to work their shit out, or just be weird-ass hippies, who are never presented as straight-up heroes or villains--they all have flaws, and they all spew bullshit, but the closest director Lukas Moodysson comes to an outright stereotype or is Lena (Anja Lundqvist), Goran's narcissistic, selfish, immature girlfriend. Even Rolf, Elisabeth's husband who, initially set up as what might be generously described as a deadbeat, isn't that bad, just kind of a dumbass.

-No real way to get across the brilliant satire this is. Just watch it.

Thoughts on Do You Like Hitchcock?

5:45 PM By Simon

-A Hitchcock-obsessed film student who never actually goes to class finds himself in a Hitchcockian-like murder mystery, aping Strangers on a Train, Rear Window, Vertigo, et cetera.

-A made-for-TV movie with a shitload of nudity, but not much gore (only two onscreen deaths, one hilariously over-the-top, one going by in a blink).

-Entertaining, if formulaic, giallo movie. It's so weird, seeing all of Dario Argento's trademarks (except for the fantastical killings...these are rather tame and ordinary) in 2005...Italy?

-See, I can't tell the ethnicity of anything here. Most of the actors (including the dude from My Brother is an Only Child ) are Italian, but they have British accents, but they appear to be in Rome, based off the buildings and cars, and they pay in Euros, but they call elevators 'lifts', which I understand is an American thing...and then they watch a bit of Strangers on a Train, at least in audio, where the last line is now 'Hey, aren't you that famous golf player?' or something like that, and I'm all, hey, Farley Granger is a tennis player, that's not the last line at all!, and also, the voice is different, and now I'm wondering, maybe they just couldn't get the rights for the original dialogue, or something...

-Anyway. Acting surprisingly decent, considering it is: Argento, recent Argento, a TV movie, and a horror movie, none of which adds up to Oscar nominations.

-Who says 'Blue Velvet by David Lynch'? Is there some other Blue Velvet circulating the underground film scene, that you have to elaborate who, exactly, made the one you're talking about? That scene was so random.

-No character consistency, okay?

So many movies...

2:43 PM By Simon

Do you not realize just how many movies you can watch on Instant Netflix? And how many movies I still have, untouched, on DVD? And how many still on hold from my Library Days, and coming in from regular Netflix? And how Netflix is ruining my fucking life?

I'll be in my quarters. Contemplating.

Why An Absentee Mother Will Fuck You Up (Thoughts on A Tale of Two Sisters and Kikujiro)

Saturday, August 21, 2010 10:31 PM By Simon

It has been brought to my attention that I watch and write about many an Asian film. So it shouldn't surprise any of you that I've just watched two films by the two of the most prolific directors or South Korea and Japan, respectively, Kim Ji-woon and Takeshi Kitano. And I'm writing about them at the same time. Because I'm lazy.

(ahem)

But also because these two films are loosely connected in theme, namely, that the mother of the protagonists is dead or otherwise gone, and it influences the entire plot. This seems to be a pattern in the other movie I watched yesterday, Audition, and the opposite being true (having a mother around will also influence the plot, but ultimately, you'll be cool with it) in Mother. So I can now gather, for my inevitable bumming about the East, that if you don't have a devoted mother, things will not turn out well for you.

-Su Mi (Im Soo Jung), just released from a mental hospital after the death of her mother, returns to her home with her timid sister Su-Yeong (Moon Geun-young) and her father (Kim Kap-su), to meet with her new difficult stepmother and her mother's former nurse, Eun-joo (Yeom Jeong-ah). Strange things start happening in that old house, see.

-What I find interesting about this movie is that director Kim almost foreshadows the claustrophobia the house will soon present, by giving us one last look at the outside, as the two sisters go to lounge at a river outside. The camera pans to show off the fields of tall grass, the sky, everything.

-Anyway. This stars Im Soo Jung, who starred in Park Chan-wook's I'm A Cyborg, But That's OK, otherwise known as my Favorite Movie Ever. She is good, if a bit predictable (ahem), as the unstable Su Mi, who aggressively resents Eun-joo's presence, and remains cold towards her father, for reasons only implied until the end. Her relationship with her younger sister, however, is loving to the point of obsession (also for reasons revealed later). Im is, really, not given much to do, at least to my too-busy-reading-really-fast-subtitles eyes, by way of acting-acting. She is pretty fantastic for what could've been a very over-the-top performance.

-Also worth mentioning is Yeom Jeong-ah, as the wicked stepmother. Half the time, she is the expected menacing, and with Yeom's overall tinyness, she gets much credit for actual feeling threatening. The other half, she is even creepier, perky and easy to please. The now-infamous dinner scene, for example, where she zealously recounts an anecdote to her guests with such conviction and, dare I say, madness, she sends a woman into a seizure. This lady's got crazy eyes, okay?

-The rest of the cast, Moon's shy and helpless Su-yeong and Kim's put-upon Moo-hyeon, are fine, capable, but really take a backseat to Im and Yeom, although every time Su-yeong is on screen, you just want to give her a hug, she is so permanently in terror.

-As said. Claustrophobia. While there are definitely some Japanese horror influences, and they aren't necessarily a good thing, Two Sisters is absolutely terrifying in it's expert mix of ghost story and family melodrama, blurring the lines between them seamlessly, and you're left wondering which is scarier. The lighting moody and noir-ish, the score manic and terrifying, the editing equivalent to a staring contest, many POV shots and one scene where a revelation is so big the camera shakes violently with surprise, it seems.

-Wow. I just realized. I'm starting to write full-length reviews.

-Oh, well, tell Korean movies to stop rocking so hard.

-Go read an article about this for The New Cult Canon, which puts it much better than I do.

-Masao (Yusuke Sekiguchi), a sullen little kid on summer break, finds himself with nothing to do, and after finding an old letter from his long-lost mother, decides to seek her out. Intercepted by his guardian Grandmother's neighbor, she assigns her boorish, nasty, probable ex-Yakuza husband Kikujiro (Katano) to escort him on the trip, telling his grandmother they're going to the beach. After gambling away they're money and narrowly rescuing Masao from a child molester (after leaving him outside a restaurant, of course), Kikujiro promises to take him, relying on the help of kind strangers.

-Cute. That's the only way I can put it. Kitano, if you'll recall, is known for his violent, moralistic, expectantly compassionate gangster movies. Which is why seeing him make a movie so unabashedly sentimental, so lighthearted and bloodless (literally, if not figuratively) is so fucking weird. Of course, he's also known for destroying genres from the inside, so naturally, he makes what could've been another in the long line of gruff-man-and-lonely-kids-touch-each-other's-lives-in-unexpected-ways and makes it almost less obnoxiously twee.

-There are long bouts of idle play between Masao, Kikujiro, and the various strangers they pick up, Kikujiro's blatant assholery counterbalanced by Masao's Power of Pout, which all could be, probably is, self-indulgent and unfocused, but it generally fun to watch, especially the third act, where the two travellers, a young poet, and two doggedly nice bikers frolic at a campsite, where the main objective is to entertain Masao after an event that should be spoilerish. This time in the movie is the best, I think, the only part where I laughed at loud.

-Anyway. These bullets are getting awfully long. To sum: Kitano, I think, decided to make a movie he could take his kids to, and for the most part, he succeeds (even though most of this shit would never go down in an American film, at least one so lighthearted and almost plotless). Tones shift, hearts warm, bikers take the piss, unlikeable characters get tolerable, the core relationship is very nice. This is not the worst road movie you could watch, basically.

-Adieu, my patient compadres who did not skip the last few hundred paragraphs. You're dedication is rewarded with snacks. Later.

-If anyone has any reviews of either of these films, do link them down in the comments. They're just those type of movies you want to read reviews about, okay?

How To Sell A Movie, Advertisers of Notorious and/or Controversial Films, Lesson #1

12:59 AM By Simon

Don't put the fucking climax on the fucking poster.



C'mon, Tartan (Extreme?) Home Release/South Korean Distributors of Amazing Park Chan-wook Films! Thanks to these widely-distributed posters, I wasn't nearly as surprised/pertrubed as I could've been! Audition, yes, it was nasty, and made me find that ankle bracelet I made in 3rd grade just to assure my slightly traumatised brain that I did, in fact, have feet, but really, the only surprise about this movie (aside from, uh, the phone rang, and if you don't get that, then good for you) was that the whole Asami-isn't-that-nice-Mr.-Man was supposed to be a surprise.

As for you, Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance. You got no excuse. That's the original theatre poster, my man. Audition's advertising (ahem) facepalm can be chalked up to trying to sell on the film's already buzzed about notoriety in North America, but you. That's just bad judgement, putting the two main characters, who previously never meet in the film, together, in the same frame--nay, still--from the movie, looking all 'this is it, yo'. Way to ruin some perfectly good tension, you dicks. Not you, Park, you're alright.

But seriously, Japan/South Korea. You guys are the fucking masters of posters. I mean, lately. 21st century, definitely. Unless 2000 doesn't count. But still. You even make romantic comedies look awesome, with your hi-res, ultra-stylised photography, bright colors (even gray is eye-catching on Asian cinema posters), general intriguing poses and snapshots. But the nineties weren't a good time for you two, I can see. Tsk tsk.

Ah, well. The nineties wasn't that great a stylistic time for anyone, was it?

...

Seriously, I want every South Korean poster on my wall, they're all just so good. G'day.

The Expendables: A Case Study On Old Men Getting Their Ass Kicked and How It Might Be Our Fault by Danielle

Friday, August 20, 2010 7:48 PM By Simon

Look at that. You can just smell the America sweating off of him.

--There is so much to be said about The Expendables (or Sly Stallone's Mid Life Crisis), much of it sassy and critical, maybe even a little catty (look at that guy's arms! why can't those be my arms?) but, you guys, WTF is wrong with people? Who thought this was a good idea? Once more, what wise guy thought he could stuff a plot into this pile of suck? Are they letting mentally challenged twelve year olds produce movies now? Oh wait.


--Truly, I walked into this movie with as little expectations as I could muster without actually not seeing it. I expected cheese and manliness and funny faces and Jason Statham being awesome. And in it's most simplistic form, that's what I got.

--Really silly severing of limbs.

--There's this part at the end where I can't tell if it's meant to be joking or what, but there's NO JOKE a Casablanca-esque goodbye scene where Sly's all like, "I'll always be around" and I'm like *nose snort*.

--In the beginning they showed a trailer for Devil and, I kid you not, when M. Night Shananana's name appears everyone cracked up. I'd suggest getting your shit together, dear sir, or you don't want to know what's gonna be on your gravestone.

--For the record, Sister and I saw the very same trailer at Scott Pilgrim and were all like, "Ohhh...." audibly.

--Anyway, Mickey Rourke fo shiz gives the best performance of the night with his single emotional scene that packed more of a punch then this movie deserves to call it's own.

--Otherwise, everyone sucked. They sucked hard.

--I mean, I get it's a lot of dudes to give story arcs to but jesus most of these guys had like one line and fifteen minutes of screen time. Schwartzy Governator and McClaine were just cameos. Eric Roberts was an insult to the human race. Angel from Dexter had his little bit as a Made Up Latino Island Dictator but he never came across as dictatory, instead acting more as this rich American dude's bitch. Jet Lee was made a fool of, even though Kung Fu kicks Terry Cruise's shriveled balls any day.

--Gayest movie since Eclipse.

--Yeah.



Danielle is here.

Death 4 Told

7:39 PM By Simon

Oh, children. Did you know that bloggers do things outside of blogging? I didn't. No until His Great White Dopeness announced that he had been in a movie. With actors. Some of whom have their own Wikipedia page (which is how you know you've made it)!

He held a giveaway for said movie, and I was all, hells yeah, bitches! And I was all *finalist*, but then Alex at Film Forager went and won it, and I hold no grudges, ha, but then I discovered that it was on Netflix! Which is awesome!

So here we go, my dears.



"The Doll's House"

A couple rents a house of suspicious size and affordability from a woman who was once the maid to the family living there, before they all, y'know, keeled over. Right off the bat: bad camerawork, which is to be expected from such low budgetness, music so loud it threatens to drown out the dialogue, which goes a little something like this: "I didn't know there was a plaground across the street." "There's a playground?" "Yeah, across the street." This dialogue is from the lead couple-thing, who have lived there a week at that point, and I find it highly suspect they didn't see a motherfucking playground until then.

Man of Couple is a writer, and in one scene inspects a hardcover copy of his book. Since I didn't get a good look at the title, I'm gonna assume it was Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. Therefore, this male person shall from here on out be known as JK.

So JK goes to a bar, where he meets Pete the Drunk. Who has a high voice and big eyes and he's played by His Dopeness, so it's cool, right?

Pete warns of peeping young Toby, and from there, the plot rides into the predictable, as they got haunted by said Toby, eight-year-old ghost who's a doll or a pumpkinhead or something. His first appearence, I'll give the movie, is nicely, if blandly, edited. The acting isn't very bad, just kind of indifferent. Dialogue stilted, plot poorly executed. Let's move on. Because that plot quickly resolved itself.

"Folklore"

I think this is supposed to be one of thse character-based horror films, but holy shit, these characters suck. I mean, they're just awful. The actors show glimmers of not-sucking, but the characters are giant douchebags I want to punch in the face. Nothing good about this.

Also, knowing what the difference between wolves and dogs is not covered in biology, unless you take an animal biology class(-thing). And chemistry has nothing to do with pots, you dildos.

"World's Most Haunted"

The only one of these four that try anything original, following a camera crew filming a reality show in an abandoned mental asylum (ugh).

Some good stuff here and there, sure, but the dialogue is drowned out by sound effects, the acting is, at best, tolerable, and there's this one guy who, when asked if he think the asylum's haunted, replies something along the lines of "I don't know, but I do know that when I'm done with it, it will be." That makes no sense.

Also compressed story, although I like the quasi-Pontypool aspect near the end. Anyway.

"The Psychic"

Okay, so now we got Tom Savini for a minute, Alicia Goranson, and Margot Kidder, for some reason. There's some lovin' music that sounds directly recorded from a radio, ful frontal nudity, whatnot. Margot Kidder does best with what she's given, which is, y'know, shitty.

I'm dispirited. Farewell.

My DVD player's a filthy little whore

6:44 PM By Simon

Therefore, here is a (kind of) beautiful story about movies, by a dude named Tim Pratt.

Thoughts on Mother

Thursday, August 19, 2010 8:48 PM By Simon

-An unnamed woman (Kim Hye-ja), selling grain and illegal acupuncture in a small South Korean town, finds herself a makeshift detective when her mentally handicapped son Do-joon (Won Bin) is accused of murdering a high school girl.

-Kim Hye-ja is so unbelievably amazing. As a meek, doting woman with a fierce, almost unhealthy, love for her son, she has so much going on with her face alone. Superficially, it's somewhere between mild, desperate, and determined, as she gets deeper and deeper into the circumstances surrounding the girl's death, but there's a madness that director Bong Joon-ho zeroes in on, often lingering on her face as she interrogates a suspect or searches through a room, especially when she talks to her son in prison. As said son, Won Bin, who Wikipedia tells me is very famous in South Korea and Japan as a heartthrob, is (I hate this word, okay, but) superb, this very innocent guy with a hair-trigger temper, not nearly as naive as he comes off, yet completely dependent on the tolerance of strangers and the devotion of his mother, well-meaning and hapless and unsure if he's even done the things he's accused of.

-Fine supporting turn by Jin Goo as Jin-tae, Do-joon's ne'er-do-well friend who allies with the Mother to clear his name. There's also the actress who played the murdered girl, shown in flashback and bizarre reenactments, but IMDb is being a bitch about the name of said actress. So there's that.

-Bong Joon-ho keeps you disoriented from the first shot on, always in control even whe nthe plot isn't. His sense of mise-en-scene (shut up, I like that phrase) is impeccable, keeping the tone balancing precariously between humor and suspense, as the plot itself ponders over what is right and wrong, never judgemental. Some scenes are absolutely brilliant, from editing to staging to score (one I particularly like is about a twist, so, y'know).

-I love how it opens and ends with the Mother dancing. In the beginning, it's in a field of grass, her dancing tiredly and almost lazily to lovely music, waving her arms and frequently wiping her face in the mist of it, face switching from bright and delighted to unreadably emotionless, a scene that's put into horrifying context later on. In the end, she's on a bus, I won't say why, but it's so bittersweet and oddly triumphant, her exuberantly dancing among other old folk, getting lost in the tiny crowd and the glaring sunlight as the credits roll.

-I love the way Bong frames the more idiosyncratic characters of the story, the castaways of society. I can't put my finger on it...

-How he does the more suffocating moments of tension, while the Mother is caught in the room of a suspect while he and his girlfriend have sex, for example, are the best moments.

-I didn't get the end. Okay.

A Question for all you Non-Americans

Wednesday, August 18, 2010 2:55 PM By Simon

A line from Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, my new love, got me thinking. When Julie Powers or that other guy who's name I forget, one of them is telling Scott about Ramona Flowers, and mentiones 'She's American.' Scott, all gooey eyed and shit, says, "Wow. American." Because I suck at vocal cues, I couldn't tell if this was more in reverence to her (probably) or the fact that she was American (unlikely). Also, that Canada doesn't have subspace travel, which we yankees totally fucking do, alright?

So I ask you: assuming for a minute that Scott meant the second infliction, how is America viewed in the eyes of you, Everyone Else? Yes, yes, I know, we're flaming assholes and whatnot, but let's put aside fury for a second. How is our overall reputation?

(I know what I'm inviting here, okay, but it's either here or a message board somewhere, because I don't know anyone of a not-majority-of-life-spent-in-US persuasion)

It's the Bat-Man, bitch

2:00 AM By Simon



Try not to feel too inadequete, Everyone Else.

My humble thoughts on the epic Black Swan trailer

Tuesday, August 17, 2010 11:52 PM By Simon

You've all seen it by now. The gorgeous cinematography. The Clint Mansell score, lots of strings, just the way scores should be (oh, shut up, percussions) (or, I hope that's his music. If they pull an Inception...). The make-y out-y-ness of Mila Kunis and Natalie Portman, two of my favorite young actresses (even though Kunis is still on probabtion for fucking Max Payne ). The ballerina-iness, a mostly ignored genre in recent years (I like to think it's no coincidence that Natalie Portman's been up for a Suspiria remake. If they must make one, they could do worse than her). Psychological horror by directors, not for-hire guys, is always the best kind, and this has Darren Aronofsky, bitches.

I present to you, my dears, some highlights.

This made me cringe. As this guy said, she's splintering. Oh, dear.

Why must all movies about the mental disintegration/torture of idealistic young women involve heartbreaking and uncomfortable (what might be, because I doubt Aronofsky would just throw in some random bit of fanservice. I mean, he must have some point to it, yes?) female masturbation? Mulholland Dr. did it, at the top of my head. That could be the only example. Never mind.

This is cool.

This freaks me the fuck out.

In conclusion, poor Natalie Portman.

Also in it, Barbara Hershey, Winona Ryder. I have something to live for again.

Tilda Swinton in The Limits of Control: Flashback, yo

11:38 PM By Simon

Awhile ago, I posted a thing about Tilda Swinton, namely, her role as Blonde in Limits of Control. The original article was back before anyone read this, and I'm feeling nostalgic, so feast your eyes, my pets:

--

I am a casual worshipper of Tilda Swinton. I'm not so diehard as other film enthusiasts, but she is a factor I will take into account when I go to see a movie. I appreciate her androgeny, the fact that she is the only actress who could star in Orlando, who could play Gabriel in Constantine, without it being ridiculous. I like her ability to be a cruel, cold shrew and a warm, loving woman and a drug-addicted mess in five different places. I love her posh Britishness.

In Limits of Control, she plays one of the many contacts to the anonymous hitman (Isaach de Bankolé), bearing a trinket of mysterious clues for him at a cafe.
But, she distinguishes herself in both her stride and appearence. Hardly inconspicuous in a cowboy hat, overcoat, and huge sunglasses, she half walks, half scurries down the street, glancing over her shoulder. She introduces herself as everyone else does, "You don't speak Spanish, right?", you know the drill. Then she sits down, and talks about movies.



I like really old films. You can really see what the world looked like; thirty,
fifty, a hundred years ago. You know the clothes, the telephones, the trains,
the way people smoke cigarettes, the little details of life.

The best films are like dreams you're never sure you've really had. I have this image in my head of a room full of sand and a bird flies towards me and dips its wing into the sand. And I honestly have no idea whether this image came from a dream or a film.

Sometimes I like it in films when people just sit there, not saying anything.




Then, the two just sit there, not saying anything. It's the self-referencing here that almost redeems this movie, I guess.

She goes on to say:


Have you seen The Lady From Shanghai? Orson Welles.
That one makes no sense. Rita Hayworth is a blonde, I think it's the only film she was ever blond in. It's like a game: deception, glamor, a shootout with shattered mirrors.
...
She dies in the end.


Now, in her penultimate speech, she skips to the meta-path. Because, like Hayworth in Shanghai, this is the only movie she's blonde in. This leads me to think of that last line, 'she dies in the end'. Because later, we'll see her, from the POV of the Lone Man, in the same garb as their encounter, on an old-fashioned Spanish film poster, translated to 'In A Lonely Place'. Not a minute later, we see her getting dragged into a car by some men, never to be seen again. With this line, she both foreshadows and confirms her own fate.

--

Unfortunately, this might be the 'smartest' thing I've ever written directly pertaining to a specific movie or performance. A shame, no doubt.

Thoughts on Coffee and Cigarettes

9:45 PM By Simon

-Somewhat connected series of vignettes, starring various celebrities as either definitely or ambiguously themselves, talking over cigarettes and coffee.

-I say somewhat because, aside from a few throwaway connections, everything is about subject matter. Some reaccuring themes include: Nikola Tesla (first mentioned in 'Jack Shows Meg His Tesla Coil' (starring the White Stripes! Woot!), then in 'Champagne', starring former prominent avant-garde figures Bill Rice and Taylor Mead, the latter of whom I vaguely recall reading of a movie by Andy Warhol, Taylor Mead's Ass, a cheeky response to a critic of Tarzan and Jane Regained...Sort Of, who said nobody wants to spend and hour and a half staring at Taylor Mead's ass...), an industrial-style drummer Iggy Pop suggests to Tom Waits, who may or may not be Lee, Cate Blanchett's cousin Shelly's boyfriend, the fact that yes, either coffee or cigarettes are bad for you, and/or they are not a healthy breakfast, do you want a sandwich?, drinking coffee before bed makes your dreams go faster.

-RZA wears a Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai ski cap. Awesome.

-These shorts vary from the quietly tragic ('No Problem'), to the mundane ('Renee'), to the weird ('Twins', starring Joie and Cinque Lee, who can either be credited here as themselves or as 'Good Twin' and 'Evil Twin'. Because there has to be one. Right, Danielle?).

-Iggy Pop! Tom Waits! The White Stripes! RZA (okay, I don't listen to the Wu-Tang Clan, but I like RZA)!

-'Jack Shows Meg His Tesla Coil' and 'Champagne' are the best, in my opinion. So random, yet fitting into the themes of both the actors/musicians, and/or the movie itself.

-Ahem.