Perhaps you've heard about the Sight and Sound Top Films List?
It keeps on cycling back into my life over this past month. It got an awful lot of attention this year (they actually only compile it every ten years) as for the first time since 1952, Citizen Kane was not the number one film. This year the number one was Vertigo.
Naturally this kind of list gets me thinking about my own experience with film. What are my favourite films? What films have had the biggest impact upon me? What movies have I watched over and over again and felt like the well was endless?
So I decided to make my own list. Mine isn't 100 films. I limited myself to 11. I tried to do 10, but I simply couldn't leave one of the 11 I whittled it down to off the final list. My list is not numerated. There is not a number one. The most important - the "most essential" - films in my life.
Only one of my films is on the Sight and Sound list.
Six of the eight directors who I have declared I will watch (but not necessarily enjoy) anything they do are represented - one of them twice.
Only one silent film. Only one foreign language film.
I am reasonably certain that there isn't a film on my list that I have seen less than 20 times (which is probably why there isn't a film newer than a decade old the list - indeed only one since the turn of the century.)
These aren't necessarily my favourite films (see next note), they are the films that I have found to be the ones I felt compelled to watch the most (Beast of Bottomless Lake excluded for obvious reasons).
For years I have named five specific films as my favourites of all time. They are on the list, but only because as I considered the films that should be on the list those five kept coming up for all the reasons that the other six films did. So they got there honestly. If I were to name my favourite 10 or 11 films probably three or four of the films on this list would fall off. Perhaps I'll make that list some day, but I think by having a pretty solid top 5, I've kind of already done that.
Lastly, before I move on to my top 11 most essential films.... Citizen Kane v. Vertigo? For me it's Vertigo all the way. Spoiler alert - it doesn't make my list. I think it's a fantastic film. But if I were picking a Hitchcock film it would be Rear Window. I've never managed to get through Citizen Kane in a single sitting without falling asleep. I think that speaks volumes.
So, without any further futzing... The Truth & Signal Top (11) Films of All Time for 2012:
(In chronological order of release.)
The General - 1926
I went through a BIG Buster Keaton phase in my late 20s. While a few people would call Sherlock Jr. their favourite Keaton film, there are virtually none who know what they are talking about who would deny that The General is a masterpiece. I hardly know where to start. It is a whopping adventure, and Keaton is spectacular in his stunt-work. Watch any of the action sequences and they actually challenge action sequences of today for their excitement, largely because most of them are single un-cut takes. It features the most expensive shot in film history (for its day) and it manages to tell it's tale with less than fifty title cards. (Trust me. I've watched a lot of silent film. For a feature, that is amazing.) Keaton's most famous single stunt (and shot) may be in Steamboat Bill Jr. but for prolonged sequences, The General is the show to see. Of all the films on this list it is the one it has been the longest since I've watched it... that will probably be rectified soon.
FUN FACT: The General (which is the one film on my list that is also on the Sight & Sound list) was a box office failure when it came out. Keaton was known for comedies. The General is an adventure. He may have made his best film, but it wasn't what audiences were used to seeing from him. It took decades for people to respond favourably to that disconnect. Those who still haven't still think Sherlock Jr. is the superior film.
The Great Escape - 1963
This is probably the hardest film to defend on this list. Jodie has never made it past the introduction to the camp - which is too bad, because the best is yet to come... however, I don't think that much of the rest would change her mind. Admittedly, it is a film that is populated about 99.6% by men, and it takes a lot of criticism for that. But a lot of that would be a result of the fact that it was men who were on the ground in the 2nd World War.
FUN FACT: If you listen to the commentary of the collector's edition of the film, there is a point where they address this fact and mention that the producers wanted to shoehorn some women into the movie in the most cynical of ways and that the director, John Sturges, put his foot down.
Why do I love this film? Because it's clever and fun and tragic. I suspect that a lot of my aesthetic came from that juxtoposition. "Hey this is all jaunty, but a lot of despair can come from it... and that despair might actually be a victory in its own right."
And sure Steve McQueen's motorcycle stunts are lame by modern standards as well as being historically inaccurate, but I've never found them to be any less cool (and, hey - its a movie, not a history lesson).
Jaws - 1975
Jaws was already over two decades old by the time I saw it (oh yeah, I saw it later than all but three movies on this list) because I had been the perfect age to get the message (when it came out) that it was the most terrifying thing a person could see on screen. Yet despite all that build up, it survived. It was my friend Keith's favourite film and I finally gave in in 1997 and watched the damned thing. And it is a masterwork of storytelling. All other aspects aside, whenever I go back and rewatch it, it is the parcelling out of information that stands out to me as being the most fantastic element of the film. Each sub-element of stakes and character is revealed at exactly the right moment until action has to happen - and all of that occurs with the weight of the set up on top of it. Face it, the film doesn't even need the shark until 82 minutes into the film. It is that well crafted. Spielberg was the first director who I ever knew the name of. He is probably the most important director of my life, even if I'm generally less fond of his work these days.
Star Wars - 1977
There is simply no way this film cannot be on my list. It is flawed. The sequels are flawed. (Though Empire Strikes Back is the superior film of the bunch.) But there is no film I have watched more times and there is no film which directed the course of my life so much, nor from such a young age. It is still a lot of fun. Most of what I get out of it now is nostalgic, sure I have mostly contempt for what George Lucas did to the second/first three films, but it had to be on this list.
Alien - 1979
I doubt that this was the first film that ever scared me, but it absolutely is the first one that left an indelible mark. I first saw it at a birthday sleep over when I was about 12 and it scared the bejesus out of me. We ended up watching it again the next morning too. I've never really quit. The first sequel would probably make it's way onto my top 20 list. The 3rd installment has some terrible early CGI, but isn't that bad a film - and importantly was the first feature of the only director to appear twice on this list. And unlike Ridley Scott's other big early masterpiece, Blade Runner, it doesn't feel dated. (Yes, I did just say that.) Scott is one of the six directors on this list whose work I will give a chance to at any turn. His latest, Prometheus - the prequel to Alien - was rough, but ultimately it was gorgeous and it passed the "Did it entertain me?" test, despite its faults. (Which I can't say about the fourth Alien film - which I rarely acknowledge the existence of, so bookmark this page - or the AVP spin off.)
Das Boot - 1981
I first saw Das Boot when it was still called The Boat on these shores and only ran around 2 hours in length. I had snuck out of my bedroom in the wee-hours of a pay-TV free movie weekend to see what was on. I didn't actually know what it was I was watching because I had missed the beginning. (It would be some years before I would discover that I had only missed a few minutes, though I did figure out what it was I was watching that very night.) Nonetheless I was enthralled pretty much right from the start. It was likely the first subtitled film I ever watched through to the end. I saw it once or twice between then and the mid 90s when I really sunk my teeth into the Director's Cut and since then have watched it nearly annually (though parenthood is putting a dent in that average.) I even bought the full 5 hour version. I've only watched it at full length twice, and probably never will again (well maybe once more in many years time) as it doesn't really add much to the superior 3+ hours cut. To this day I still find the tension of certain sequences to be such that I feel like I can't afford to blink. Wolfgang Peterson is another director whose work I will always give a chance to.
Goodfellas - 1991
Much like with Das Boot I started unwittingly watching Goodfellas in the opening few minutes and was instantly hooked. The film is a clinic. It is outrageous that Martin Scorsese took another 15 years (and several worthy contenders) to finally win the Best Picture Oscar. Goodfellas (and to a lesser degree Casino) are the films that put the lie to the rule that voice-over makes for a bad screenplay. That is a pretty good hueristic, but it simply isn't a universal truth. There isn't really anything that hasn't been said about this film that I can add. It's fantastic. The four leads each give some of the most important performances of their careers, the pacing is spot-on, the music could not do a better job of both moving the film forward and placing it in time (after time after time), and the camera work is as close to flawless as any film gets. (Insert ubiquitous reference to Karen's introduction to the Copa here.) And yes, I'll watch any Scorsese film once.
Seven - 1995
Another film that breaks the voice-over rule, albeit only for one line. I'm not sure it needed to, and it's probably the only weak choice in the movie. I first saw Seven (or "Se7en" if you insist on being a wanker) on a last moment whim. I was on my way to see The Shawshank Redemption when the poster for Seven caught my eye. The friend I was with, Todd, suggested we take a chance and see this film we'd never heard of instead. BEST MOVIE GOING CHOICE EVER. (It took me nearly a decade to get around to seeing Shawshank. A great film, but I've only felt the need to watch it once.) When the film was over, Todd and I sat for about two minutes in silence after the credits were over before either one of us spoke. I can count the number of times on one hand that a movie has made me feel like I've never seen anything like it before, and the only film that ever made me feel that way that isn't on this list is The Matrix. The fact that two of those films were directed by David Fincher is pretty much why he is my favourite director of all time.
On a side note, only one other time have I changed my choice of viewing at last moment based on a poster. I ended up seeing Hardware instead of Miller's Crossing. WORST MOVIE GOING CHOICE EVER.
LA Confidential - 1997
For my money, the best crime drama ever told. I can't even recall at which turn in the plot I spontaneously cried out in the theatre "what the fuck is going on?!" The woman beside me whispered "Yeah. Isn't it fantastic?" Damned rights it was. The plot-lines which spin-around each other towards the abyss; the cast that is populated by a host of characters (mostly police officers) who are each in their own way terrible people (and variously bad cops) but all thoroughly compelling; the fact that most audience members were seeing both Russell Crowe and Guy Pearce for the first time and not having the slightest clue they were Aussies; the pitch perfect scenic design and matching camera-work; and a plot which seems so insanely convoluted, yet comes out being perfectly clear and seemingly inevitable.... sigh; it is so frikkin' good. If it hadn't come out the same year as Titanic it would have cleaned up at the Oscars.
I went on to read the book, which is now one of my favourite books of all time, and discovered that the screenplay is even more brilliant than it at first seems. James Elroy - the novel's author - declared the book un-adaptable. It is a miracle he was wrong. The book and film could not be much more different, yet satisfyingly still be the same story. I could not concisely sum up how without giving far too much of either one away.
Fight Club - 1999
David Fincher is of course one of the directors whose work is on this list whose movies I will always see. Fight Club is probably the best example of a film which spoke directly to who I was when I saw it when it came out, and on top of that, it's a ripping great yarn. This was the first time we really got to see Fincher put his technical savvy front and centre... and the fact that the script and his cast manage to not get upstaged by it is why this is such a fantastic film. Again, this is a film which can't be talked about much and really just needs to be experienced. If forced to make a Sophie's choice and pick one of my top five films of all time as my number one, I could make the choice a different way on any different day, but I think the smart money would be on Fight Club.
Memento - 2000
Memento backs its way onto this list, but I don't mean that in any way which lessens the film that it is. When I was considering my criteria - the "most essential" films" I watched over and over again and felt like the well was endless," Memento fit the bill at least as well as two or three others on this list that popped to mind immediately as contenders without considering the criteria as the determining factor. I have analysed the living shit out of Memento. I watched it in the edited order (of course) and even before I had a DVD copy with the option to watch the events in chronological order I did so - on VHS, which took some doing. Christopher Nolan is the most recent director to work his way onto the list of directors who work I will always see. Memento probably isn't even his best film. But it is the one that worked it's fingers deepest inside of me.
Some clean up:
So, for the record, who are those eight directors whose work I will always see?
Spielberg, Fincher, Scorsese, Peterson, Scott (the Elder), and Nolan - all on this list. As well as, the Coen Brothers (Who I am counting as one as they do not work without one another, and for me have the widest range of hits and misses of directors on this list, erring towards misses, but damned interesting ones.) and Steven Soderberg (Whose work I probably have the worst record of actually seeing - largely due to the manner of release of his lesser known work.)
What came close?
Its a long list, but three films stand out as movies that I really have rewatched at length:
Brazil (Though I suspect that if I was going to add it, I would have by now.)
Primer (Though in the grand scheme of things I watched it a LOT to try to untangle its compellingly fascinating and complex plot, not to re-appreciate the quality of the film itself. It's kind of a false positive. I figure this is the most obscure film on the list.)
Children of Men (I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that the main reason it didn't make the list is that it hasn't been out long enough for me to watch it enough times to really earn it a place. Given some more time for consideration, I think there is a real chance that it will either un-seat a film on the list, or earn it's own place on a list of 12. Perhaps I shall do it all again when the Sight and Sound 2022 list is published.)
Of course there are many many films that I LOVE and with different parameters, many of them could have made the list instead of these, but I believe there is a need in this realm of discussion to ask how important these films are in my life and that is different than how beloved they are to me (though there is some overlap).
Showing posts with label movies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label movies. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 04, 2012
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Right back where we started...
I've noticed something about "new" widescreen TVs. (Just try and find a "new" TV with 4:3 aspect ratio.)
Once upon a time when all people had was 4:3 TV screens and movies were broadcast or shown on VHS, the films were cropped. The left and right extremes of the picture would be lopped off. Later as more care was taken (which inevitably happened more and more as time went on and afficionados took more interest in preserving the intention of the film makers, and eventually this became the domain of the film makers - or their designates - efforts were made to use the most important portion of the image, not just the centre. This would even mean shifting the portion of the screen that was used. This could be anywhere from extreme left to extreme right, anywhere in between, or could even move (once technology allowed) within an edit. This technique was known as pan and scan, and was what you got when you purchased a DVD or VHS that was labelled as "Full Screen."
Somewhere along the line snobs (Like myself, though I wasn't at all vocal about it and had no effect on the shift.) began to complain about the fact that they weren't getting the full picture, and the cry was heard. I recall watching my widescreen VHS of Star Wars (a film I was intimately familiar with from a truly absurd number of repeated viewings) for the first time and seeing to both edges of Lucas's intended frame for the first time in years and seeing details (stormtroopers and other back ground extras mostly) I had forgotten had existed. I was immediately sold on Widescreen. I didn't throw any Full Screen formats I had out, but I never bought another new one.
I have little doubt that the popularity of Widescreen presentation (with those letter-boxing bands at the top and bottom of the picture) directly impacted upon the shift to 16:9 screens as HD came into the mix for regular consumers. I expect it likely would have happened anyway, but the fact that over the course of a decade (or so?) that widescreen sales became the preference for the majority of movie purchasers (Even the rubes who initially complained about "those black bars" and how they were getting "ripped off 'cause the whole screen wasn't being used" eventually saw the percieved benefit of the fashionably vogue opportunity to see the entire picture that you would see in the theatres.) influenced the shift to widescreen hardware.
Well, guess what is happening now? You may have noticed this yourself.
Old TV shows, presented in 4:3 originally are now being cropped (losing a portion of the top and/or bottom) to fill the entirety of a 16:9 screen. BAH! Would it be so bad if we just pillar-boxed them and (god forbid) GAVE US THE WHOLE PICTURE AS IT WAS INTENDED TO BE SHOWN?!!!?
Once upon a time when all people had was 4:3 TV screens and movies were broadcast or shown on VHS, the films were cropped. The left and right extremes of the picture would be lopped off. Later as more care was taken (which inevitably happened more and more as time went on and afficionados took more interest in preserving the intention of the film makers, and eventually this became the domain of the film makers - or their designates - efforts were made to use the most important portion of the image, not just the centre. This would even mean shifting the portion of the screen that was used. This could be anywhere from extreme left to extreme right, anywhere in between, or could even move (once technology allowed) within an edit. This technique was known as pan and scan, and was what you got when you purchased a DVD or VHS that was labelled as "Full Screen."
Somewhere along the line snobs (Like myself, though I wasn't at all vocal about it and had no effect on the shift.) began to complain about the fact that they weren't getting the full picture, and the cry was heard. I recall watching my widescreen VHS of Star Wars (a film I was intimately familiar with from a truly absurd number of repeated viewings) for the first time and seeing to both edges of Lucas's intended frame for the first time in years and seeing details (stormtroopers and other back ground extras mostly) I had forgotten had existed. I was immediately sold on Widescreen. I didn't throw any Full Screen formats I had out, but I never bought another new one.
I have little doubt that the popularity of Widescreen presentation (with those letter-boxing bands at the top and bottom of the picture) directly impacted upon the shift to 16:9 screens as HD came into the mix for regular consumers. I expect it likely would have happened anyway, but the fact that over the course of a decade (or so?) that widescreen sales became the preference for the majority of movie purchasers (Even the rubes who initially complained about "those black bars" and how they were getting "ripped off 'cause the whole screen wasn't being used" eventually saw the percieved benefit of the fashionably vogue opportunity to see the entire picture that you would see in the theatres.) influenced the shift to widescreen hardware.
Well, guess what is happening now? You may have noticed this yourself.
Old TV shows, presented in 4:3 originally are now being cropped (losing a portion of the top and/or bottom) to fill the entirety of a 16:9 screen. BAH! Would it be so bad if we just pillar-boxed them and (god forbid) GAVE US THE WHOLE PICTURE AS IT WAS INTENDED TO BE SHOWN?!!!?
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Four Mind Bending Sci-Fi Films
A few months ago I read a post somewhere (no link, can't find it easily, and there are a bajillion similar) that commented on the shared DNA of four films in the past year.
It pivoted around the blockbusting Nolan epic of last summer, Inception, and went on to point out that there were three other films that fairly succesfully mined that similar fuck-with-your-head and question-your-sense-of-reality territory within following 12 months.
The follow-up films were; The Adjustment Bureau, Source Code and Limitless.
Over the past month Jodie and I watched them all (having watched Inception in the cinema as our last theatre experience before becoming parents and of course all that entails and limits).
It needs to be said that Inception is the superior film - though I must confess, that even as big fan of Christopher Nolan, I found it a bit over-hyped. But beyond that, yeah, all of these films are quite enjoyable and worth seeing.
I had the good fortune of knowing very little about any of these films and I will keep it that way for you.
The Adjustment Bureau as the opening credits will tell you, is based on a book by Phillip K. Dick, so if you are a fan of this sub-sub-genre of fiction you kind of already have a sense of where it might go. Overall it's a pretty fluffy film and didn't really treat the material how I would have liked to have seen it done, but it managed to stay entertaining throughout and the worst thing I can say about it is I hated the hats. So it passes. Though it was my least favourite of the three.
Source Code is directed by Duncan Jones, who with this film should have earned the right to not have anyone point out on his next film that he is David Bowie's son. I thought it gave it's secrets away too easily, and one major plot point at the 2/3rd mark is too casually handled, but overall I quite liked this film. Duncan Jones, you make smart sci-fi. (He also directed Moon - which apart from a CSI-Tycho fail was awesome.) However... two quibbles: 1) There are about five minutes at the end of the film that seemed totally un-necessary to me. As though Jones had said "here is my film" and the studio said "don't you fucking dare end it so ambiguously and play only to the smart cinema goer." And being that the studio gets to make those calls there is another five minutes that ties everything up far too neatly and kind of patronizingly. 2) What the hell was Jeffery Wright thinking? My guess is that somewhere along the line he has got the message that people like the Jeffery Wright mannerisms and that he should cram every single trick and twitch he has in his toolkit into every scene. That seems to be what he is doing here - like he is playing a characterization of Jeffery Wright. But seriously, I quibble. I suspect that Jodie would say that this was her least favourite of the films, but I enjoyed it.
I really did not expect Limitless to come out of this battle-royale on top. And to be fair, I don't know why it was included in this grouping of recommendations - it stands out in a "one of these things is not like the other" kind of way, though I'll spare you the specifics of why as there is some mystery involved and to say why it stands out would be to narrow the scope of the mystery. It's fun. It is stylish (if a bit obvious in it's visual choices). It may be a bit pat in it's end - but unlike Source Code it wasn't betraying any promises by doing so, it simply is that kind of film. It actually succeeds by never really trying to be more than it is. It is smart (enough) and doesn't try to over-extend its reach as a popcorn film. It even earns itself some forgiveness where the plotting gets stretched a bit.
All in all, if you are a fan of smart, contemporary-set, sci-fi with a healthy dash of "what the hell is going on?" (at least at first), then I can gladly recommend any of these films, or as a set as we watched them.
It pivoted around the blockbusting Nolan epic of last summer, Inception, and went on to point out that there were three other films that fairly succesfully mined that similar fuck-with-your-head and question-your-sense-of-reality territory within following 12 months.
The follow-up films were; The Adjustment Bureau, Source Code and Limitless.
Over the past month Jodie and I watched them all (having watched Inception in the cinema as our last theatre experience before becoming parents and of course all that entails and limits).
It needs to be said that Inception is the superior film - though I must confess, that even as big fan of Christopher Nolan, I found it a bit over-hyped. But beyond that, yeah, all of these films are quite enjoyable and worth seeing.
I had the good fortune of knowing very little about any of these films and I will keep it that way for you.
The Adjustment Bureau as the opening credits will tell you, is based on a book by Phillip K. Dick, so if you are a fan of this sub-sub-genre of fiction you kind of already have a sense of where it might go. Overall it's a pretty fluffy film and didn't really treat the material how I would have liked to have seen it done, but it managed to stay entertaining throughout and the worst thing I can say about it is I hated the hats. So it passes. Though it was my least favourite of the three.
Source Code is directed by Duncan Jones, who with this film should have earned the right to not have anyone point out on his next film that he is David Bowie's son. I thought it gave it's secrets away too easily, and one major plot point at the 2/3rd mark is too casually handled, but overall I quite liked this film. Duncan Jones, you make smart sci-fi. (He also directed Moon - which apart from a CSI-Tycho fail was awesome.) However... two quibbles: 1) There are about five minutes at the end of the film that seemed totally un-necessary to me. As though Jones had said "here is my film" and the studio said "don't you fucking dare end it so ambiguously and play only to the smart cinema goer." And being that the studio gets to make those calls there is another five minutes that ties everything up far too neatly and kind of patronizingly. 2) What the hell was Jeffery Wright thinking? My guess is that somewhere along the line he has got the message that people like the Jeffery Wright mannerisms and that he should cram every single trick and twitch he has in his toolkit into every scene. That seems to be what he is doing here - like he is playing a characterization of Jeffery Wright. But seriously, I quibble. I suspect that Jodie would say that this was her least favourite of the films, but I enjoyed it.
I really did not expect Limitless to come out of this battle-royale on top. And to be fair, I don't know why it was included in this grouping of recommendations - it stands out in a "one of these things is not like the other" kind of way, though I'll spare you the specifics of why as there is some mystery involved and to say why it stands out would be to narrow the scope of the mystery. It's fun. It is stylish (if a bit obvious in it's visual choices). It may be a bit pat in it's end - but unlike Source Code it wasn't betraying any promises by doing so, it simply is that kind of film. It actually succeeds by never really trying to be more than it is. It is smart (enough) and doesn't try to over-extend its reach as a popcorn film. It even earns itself some forgiveness where the plotting gets stretched a bit.
All in all, if you are a fan of smart, contemporary-set, sci-fi with a healthy dash of "what the hell is going on?" (at least at first), then I can gladly recommend any of these films, or as a set as we watched them.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Oscar Predictions
The Oscar nominations were announced today. I have always felt like the nominations are more interesting than the winners – it gives a better snapshot of what is going on politically, creatively and technically in the world of film.
Appropriately, on Monday of this week I finished a journey of ten years. I watched the last of the previous 81 (yes, 81*) films that have won Best Picture. (The last one for me was the rather tepid It Happened One Night.) Someday soon I should do a post on my thoughts on having completed the task.
A month from today there will be a new film on that list. I may have already seen it. In fact, I would bet that I have, but I'll get to that further down.
About two weeks ago I declared to a few people that the Best Actor nominations would be five of the following seven: Heath Ledger for Dark Knight; Richard Jenkins for The Visitor; Sean Penn for Milk; Josh Brolin for W; Brad Pitt for Benjamin Button; Mickey Rourke for The Wrestler; and Frank Langella for Frost/Nixon.
Not only was I right, but the two of those seven that DIDN'T get Best Actor nominations got Best-Supporting – Heath Ledger & Josh Brolin (though Brolin got his nomination for Milk not W.)
I want to take the opportunity on this the day of the nominations to make predictions as far in advance as possible as to who will win – before much external analysis and jockeying for position can happen. I'll look at many of the major categories and throw in a little analysis.
I'll take this in the order the categories are posted on the Oscar website – with the exception of Best Picture, which like the ceremony, I will save for last.
ACTOR IN A LEADING ROLE
It's rare for me to look at a list of nominees and think 'I'd be happy no matter how this one shakes down.' But that is how I feel about the Best Actors.
Richard Jenkins will not win, but it is awesome that he is in consideration. The Visitor came out nearly a year ago, all the other nominees are from films from the last three months... only I believe Milk was the earliest release of the remainder, and it was late November, the other three were all mid to late December. When I saw The Visitor last spring I said to my then girlfriend "We just saw a best actor nomination." I am so happy to be right. His performance is deftly subtle and gently heartbreaking. It is also heartbreaking that Hiam Abbass, from the same film did not get a Best Supporting Actress nomination.
Frank Langella has spent 2 and a half years getting stellar reviews for his stage performance as Richard Nixon... it is no wonder he is getting great reviews for the film. Similarly, Michael Sheen as David Frost – one has to wonder why he missed a nomination. I haven't yet seen the film, but it is high on my list. I have my doubts that Langella can win, though if he does it will be a combination of recognition of his solid journeyman career and his long association with this role. Playing a historical character never hurts your chances, which also applies to the next nominee.
Sean Penn, I hear, is doing his best work ever in Milk. (In alternate versions, he is doing his best work since Dead Man Walking.) I haven't seen it, but it too is 'on the list.' Sean Penn is an actor I have huge respect for, I was so glad when he won his first Oscar, I would love to see him win a matching book-end, but I think there is a wave that will prevent it, which I am getting to eventually...
Brad Pitt is doing excellent work in Benjamin Button, and one of the standard biases of the Academy is towards actors who play role that spans most of a lifetime, and there is no arguing that there has never been a lifetime quite like Benjamin Button's put on screen... but I think Pitt's work is subsumed by the technology that supports his performance and that that will prevent him from winning on this one. It's okay – he will have another chance... which is a thought which also will hurt his chances this time 'round.
Mickey Rourke's disarming self-revealing analogue is almost the only thing anyone talks about when referring to The Wrestler... and that puts even more attention on his brave performance. I suspect that the vast majority of actors who vote will find themselves deferring to their respect for his emotionally naked performance and that Mickey Rourke will take the Best Actor statue in a walk.
ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE
In addition to Heath Ledger and Josh Brolin, mentioned above, the options for Best Supporting Actor are Robert Downey Jr., Philip Seymour Hoffman and Michael Shannon. Josh Brolin will win an Oscar someday. Philip Seymour Hoffman already has, Robert Downey Jr. is probably my favourite actor alive right now, and he disappears into his hysterically funny role in Tropic Thunder, but he too will have another chance. Heath Ledger ran circles around the rest of the film he was in, as well as making the world forget that Jack Nicholson ever wore the purple jacket and nasty smile of the Joker. Add the fact that The Dark Knight is the Godfather II of superhero films, and of course the cherry on top – Heath will never have another chance to win – and he will join Peter Finch as the only two actors ever to win posthumously.
ACTRESS IN A LEADING ROLE
When I made my declaration about which performances would make up the Best Actor nominations I was struck that I couldn't come up with a suitable list for Best Actress. Looking at who was nominated, it starts to make sense. I haven't seen a single one of the films that the nominees represent. I I've heard great things about Anne Hathaway in Rachel Getting Married and the same for Kate Winslet
in The Reader. All Meryl Streep has to do is MAKE a movie in a year to get nominated, and she is an actor who I feel deserves that recognition – she is THAT good... but her perennial nominee nature (as well as having already won) makes it less likely that she will win in any given year. I know nothing about Frozen River (and by extension, Melissa Leo), and I am a bit surprised that Angelina Jolie has been nominated for Changeling. None of the reviews I read of the film made it sound like she was doing a good job – in fact some of them were downright unflattering. She already has a statue – an undeserved one, honestly – I think the best chance of getting a second one on her mantle this year lies with her lesser half... and I've already made it clear I doubt Brad Pitt will win.
So... who will win Best Actress? I think this one comes down to 'whose turn is it?' This inevitably makes it Kate Winslet. She has been nearly as perennial over the past decade as Meryl Streep, and she has yet to actually win. Already walking off with a pair of Golden Globes including one for the same performance as she is nominated for by the Academy doesn't hurt her case at all.
ACTRESS IN A SUPPORTING ROLE
I have only seen one of the films nominated, and the performance in question was awesome. If someone other than Taraji P. Henson wins, I MUST see that movie. A few other notes on the subject: I don't think Marisa Tomei actually CAN win another Oscar due to the doubt and controversy surrounding her first win – deserved or not in either case. Penelope Cruz... I have nothing against Penelope Cruz, but I am SO done with Woody Allen. I could care less if one of his films gets any kind of recognition ever again.
ANIMATED FEATURE FILM
It seems that every year this category is made up by the inarguable eventual winner and two sacrificial lambs. This year is no exception. That said, I think the lambs this year – Bolt and Kung-Fu Panda are of better quality than most 'also rans' of the past... but so is the ringer. So far as I'm concerned, you could take nothing more than the opening half hour of Wall-E and put it up against all the winners of the past history of this category in a Battle Royale for 'Best Animated Feature Film Ever' and it would come out as the champion.
ART DIRECTION
As with many categories, I haven't seen enough of the nominees to really make a fully informed prediction, but even with those I haven't I do have SOME notion from clips and other promotional visuals.
With that in mind, I'm going to go to the mat saying that The Dark Knight is one of the most completely realized worlds I have seen on screen in years. Add to that that I expect there will be a lot of grumbling over it not getting a Best Picture nomination and that that will throw it a lot of consolation votes in the technical categories... I think it could easily win this category.
CINEMATOGRAPHY
I believe there are three serious contenders for this award. Benjamin Button, Dark Knight, and Slumdog Millionaire. Much of what makes up the cinematographic victories of the former two dovetails with visual effects, and that ultimately hurts them.
Danny Boyle's rich style is perfectly suited to the lush poverty of Slumdog Millionaire and it is gorgeously realized. Director of Photography, Anthony Dod Mantle will take home this Oscar.
COSTUME DESIGN
It seems that this award it typically dictated by a combination of sheer number of costumes and the requirement of the film in question to inspire the designer to do the most research into period dress – a factor which is magnified by having to cover multiple periods and accurately represent subtleties.
That said, I always have trouble predicting this category. All five nominees require period dress. To the best of my knowledge Benjamin Button covers the greatest scope of time and thus the most differences in dress... although Australia also incorporates multiple cultural idioms of dress. The Duchess involves the most elaborate costumes and there is a propensity to honour the detailed labour necessary to capture that on screen. It's a tough call for me, but I'm going to go with Australia. Catherine Martin already has four nominations (And two wins) combined with Art Direction, and her collaboration with husband Baz Lurmann is notoriously exacting.
DIRECTING
There are many reasons that people win Best Director. Making fabulously realized pictures. Being artistic completists. Making films with huge scope. Pushing the bleeding edge of technology for new creative realizations. Body of work. Stretching one's self into vastly new artistic territory. It's 'their turn.' And god forbid, moving us, the audience or taking us on journeys we've never been on before.
David Fincher has been one of my favourite directors for years. Of my favourite directors he is the one least known by non-cineastes, though when I start naming his films they tend to know of every single one. I've always known that his day would come, and I believe that is has. Take the list above and apply it to the five films & directors that represent them. Fincher gets a tick beside EVERY single item. No other nominee can make the same claim.
Fincher/Benjamin Button: Fabulously realized pictures – not one of his films has ever failed in this manner, Benjamin Button even more so. Artistic Completist – In Fincher's case this is almost to a fault. He is a famous perfectionist, to the degree that he alienates collaborators on occasion (most famously on Zodiac wherein he lost his original Director of Photography – not the first time that has happened to him – and the film STILL feels visually unified.) Huge Scope – Benjamin Button follows an entire lifetime through most of the 20th Century and into the 21st. It is truly epic in a very personal way. The Bleeding Edge of Technology – Aging Brad Pitt backwards from a tiny child-sized old-man to his natural 40 something silver screen glory and onwards to an octogenarian teen ager... you simply have to see it. It's fucking fantastic, and we've never seen anything like it. Body of Work – Fincher doesn't have a bad film on his resume. Some are lesser, for certain, but even Spielberg made Always (shudder.) Stretching oneself – Take a look at Fincher's past canon. Every one is classifiable as 'dark thriller' of some variety or another. Benjamin Button is an epic romance. It's their turn – This is the most arguable. This is his first Oscar nomination, but I guarantee that I'm not the only person thinking it's been a long-time comin'. Moving the audience – It is rare that a film utterly makes me forget I'm watching a movie. Benjamin Button sucked me right into its magic for the first 90 minutes solid and left my mind racing in all the best ways at the end.
A quick, hardly comprehensive look at how the other directors fail to hit all the points above...
Howard/Frost/Nixon – It is NOT Ron Howard's turn. He won an Oscar for A Beautiful Mind. The scope of Frost/Nixon is a fraction of Benjamin Button. Technologically it's not ground breaking, nor does it strike me as a stretch for a director who has a number of historically based dramas on his resume.
VanSant/Milk – Gus Van Sant exploring gay themes is hardly new territory. Nor is he adding to the director's arsenal of tools.
Daldry/The Reader – To be fair, I know the least about this film, but from what I can tell, the scope is limited; Daldry isn't pulling any new rabbits out of the hat at the Hollywood Magic Store; despite two past nominations for solid, but IMHO unremarkable films, he only has six credits on IMDB and frankly two of them don't really count in this context.
Boyle/Slumdog Millionaire – If anyone else wins, it will be Danny Boyle. He only really fails in one of the least of the benchmarks – technological innovation – and in my opinion he doesn't make as strong an argument in fully half of the other aspects... but he sure comes close.
DOCUMENTARY FEATURE
It's significant that the only one I have heard of is Man on Wire, and what I have heard of it is nothing short of glowing.
FILM EDITING
I'm going to Dark Knight for the largely the same reasons I'm doing so for Art Direction.
FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM
Waltz with Bashir, like Man on Wire is the only film I have heard of in this category, and I've heard pretty good stuff about it... which at the level I have my finger on the film world is usually a pretty solid indication it's at the head of the pack.
MAKE UP
All three nominations move into a world where the line between CGI and make-up begins to blur... I'm not sure where the line should be drawn. I'll throw this one to Benjamin Button.
MUSIC (Score)
I wish I knew why, but score is one aspect of film that I really tend not to notice consciously. It's kind of weird – even distressing. Upon repeat viewing score will start to present itself to me, but I rarely register it immediately. I don't know why. As a result, I'm not going to bother analysing this one at all and just go with Wall-E based on the spurious assumption that part of why the opening 'silent' (it's not actually silent) half-hour must be so awe inspiring is that is backed up by a masterful soundtrack.
MUSIC (Song)
For starters... WHAT!!!? NO BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN!???
Okay, that is out of my system. I'm not sure which of the Slumdog Millionaire nominations is the Bollywood dance number at the end of the film, but that is my pick.
>Skipping the short films and sound – neither of which I have any real basis upon which to make a determination beyond wild or even hopeful guess.<
VISUAL EFFECTS
All three nominations were pretty cool, but I only feel like Benjamin Button expanded the film-maker's palette. I'm being somewhat redundant, but Brad Pitt's aging process is enchanting.
WRITING (Adapted)
The three films I have seen are all worthy and I have no reason to think the other two aren't, but in the end I have to go with Slumdog Millionaire. It's structure is refreshingly original (ironic for Best Adapted, I know) and manages to make me forget that the story itself is consistently predictable step by step throughout the film... in fact I might even agree that the juxtaposition of original structure and predictable outcome actually complement each other admirably.
WRITING (Original)
I am kind of stuck here. Wall-E's opening half hour (again, I know) is fantastic, but I don't know that I have been so pleasantly surprised by a film's script this year as I was by in Bruges. It seems to be a pedestrian buddy film, yet it manages to make a hero of a despicable man, without genuinely redeeming him, and it also refuses to give in to an easily Hollywood conclusion. When watching it, I found myself begging the film to end before it gilded the lily by hitting the standard notes of a commercial film ending... and it obliged. I guess, if pressed, I'll go with In Bruges for bravely being 'wrong' to excellent result.
BEST PICTURE
While I didn't make an effort to predict the possible nominees, I am happy to see the results and I think I would have called four of the five if I had tried.
Slumdog Millionaire – As previously mentioned is remarkably fresh for being a film with such an obvious destination. I think it has a real chance of winning – winning a Golden Globe doesn't hurt either. Why was it nominated? It manages to avoid the obvious pitfalls that would and should prevent any film from getting nominated (I.E. It is generally speaking a high-quality film.) but above and beyond that it raises awareness of the Western mind as to the lifestyle of modern Mumbai. A politically relevant message is always a good way to add stock to your Best Picture chances. Additionally, a film that other film-makers can look at and say to themselves "that was not easy to accomplish" is doing itself favours. Specifically, going to the slums of Mumbai and shooting amongst the dense population with a paucity of controls is a significant accomplishment it itself – to say nothing of the purported risk of attempting to do so.
Frost/Nixon – The film is doing itself favours from the outset by taking a well received stage play as its immediate source. Add to that the fact that it is a historical drama that reflects upon current events and it becomes increasingly difficult to not nominate it – all basic quality control notwithstanding, which clearly it manages to achieve... it's Ron Howard – what do you expect?
Milk – Again a historical drama – a biopic, no less. Not to be dismissive, but add gay-rights and issues into the mix on top of a solid work and Hollywood is going to like you... especially in a year when gay-rights are under assault.
The Reader – The film I know the least about. Generally speaking, a well made film which touches – or even directly takes on a taboo subject is doing itself favours. In some cases a film of nominal quality can ride its subject through to a win. Gentleman's Agreement, I am looking at you.
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button – Let me be the first to say it, I have an obvious bias and hard-on for this film. It is my pick for Best Pic. It breaks technological boundaries (which is why Forrest Gump won in 1994); it is epic in scope – like MANY past winners; it is both beautiful and moving; and it's (somewhat tacked on) relationship both on screen and off to Katrina-slammed New Orleans does it favours too; the vast number of locations and eras it covers and the fidelity with which they are rendered plays in its favour. It is not a lock, but I do expect it to win Best Picture as well as more of its other nominations than it fails to win. It's not going to run the table though – Slumdog is too strong a competitor and scattered other ringers will spread the wins around on February 22nd.
I may revisit this with updated predictions based on the buzz and politics of the day and on (hopefully) better first-hand knowledge of the films in contention.
*The first year of the Academy Awards there were two separate 'Best Picture' categories; Best Picture – Creative (won by Wings) and Best Picture – Technical (won by Sunrise). For some reason they amalgamated the categories the next year, and today only Wings is recognized as the winner the first year.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Cloverfield vs. Jaws & The Art of Missing the Point
WARNING! SPOILERS!
So I went and saw Cloverfield last night.
It was a wild ride. I totally loved it. When I left the theatre I mentioned to the friends I went with that I expected that most of the criticism that would be lobbed at it would be how it failed to explain the initiating circumstances or the implied victory over the monster. I also had heard people couldn't handle the 'handy-cam cinematography' a la Blair Witch Project.
So this morning I took a look at what was available on-line.
Sure enough.
Other criticisms: Lame witless dialogue. Exploitative 9/11 imagery.
Every single one of these criticisms are complete and utter bullshit.
For starters I can name a dozen film (easily) that feature an enormous creature rampaging through a city. Most of them include the word 'Godzilla' in them, but it's hardly limited to that franchise. I highly recommend The Host. Despite The Host's rather refreshing look at the genre, it needs to be said about the genre as a whole - "Been there, done that."
We've all seen the tale of how the plucky team of scientists, intrepid military men and the token civilian pulled into the thick of things band together to vanquish the building-sized monster.
What hasn't been seen is the story of the guy who we see get crushed under it's foot before the final reel. THAT is this story. Uncompromisingly so. J.J. Abrams & Director Matt Reeves are never tempted to swerve to a place where our heroes become instrumental in the creature's demise. They come close, witnessing the inital bombing runs on it, but then they become the victims of the obligatory swipe at a pesky helicopter. As our beaten heroes lay in the rubble at the end of the film waiting for it to all end, their hideout becomes collateral damage to the final all-out attack on the creature.
We can assume that the creature is defeated - it is strongly implied by the nature of the faux government tag applied to the start of the film, one which indicates an inquiry into the incident. Did Rob and Beth survive? Probably not, but we don't know. Did we hear the creature's demise? We don't know. (There are reports that if you play the final radio transmission backwards that it say's "It's still alive." Even if true, frankly 'backwards masking' doesn't really exist in the world of this film. But the concept of the film directly prevents us from knowing based on the internal context, and that is how it should be. Anything else would be a cheat.
And the same applies to the cinematography and the dialogue. Both were slavishly realistic. Real people aren't capable of tossing out witty one-liners in response to their strife every two minutes for 90 minutes (or seven hours - the time the film plays out in). The film even subtly comments on it - "Why don't you ask me if I've ever heard of... Garfield." A line so witless, commenting on another character's lack of wit... it's genius.
And nothing can better put us in the situation than to see it all first person... though naming the character with the camera 'Hud' (Hudson/Heads Up Display) walks the line of self-reference. This does mean that we don't see much of the monster, 'cause naturally the protagonists are usually running in the opposite direction, but refer back to my first point - WE'VE SEEN THIS MOVIE BEFORE! Not only do we not need to see the monster, it's a refreshing and more realistic to show it to us this way.
Which leads me tot he complaints of exploitation of 9/11 imagery. Exploitation? Go to hell. If anything it's the greatest of respect. I've got this theory - stay with me here - that if we were all to be exposed to the horror of being in the chaos of the hot zone it owuld happen a hell of a alot less. And the hot zone could be anything from Ground Zero at the World Trade Centre or downtown Baghdad in April of 2003 or Guernica in 1937, or Dresden 1945... I can go on of course. In all these cases a common trait is that the civilian victims (and survivors) at the centre of the storm have little notion of what is actually happening. They might know 'we are being bombed' but even that may be obscured (note that many people thought 9/11 was a bombing while it was happening - despite the jet-liners flying into buildings overhead.) Cloverfield presents this reality clearly (in it's obscurity) from start to finish. In his final address to the camera, Rob says "If you are watching this you know more about what's happening than I do." This is thematically a very important moment. What is the name of the film? "Cloverfield." A military slang term referencing the appearance from above of an area which has just been carpet-bombed, as the dust is still settling. Could this be any more clear? What is it like to be in the horrific heat of that moment? Cloverfield attempts to capture that. Again, the first-person view is an unrelenting choice which hammers this point home and never breaks it's own rule. Having the attack in question be a movie monster rather than a military power is almost irrelevant. Part of the point is that our protagonists only know a tiny sliver of the story, so it might as well be Godzilla - or whatever.
Let's face it, being a giant monster gets more people through the doors. Just look at the record breaking box-office figures of the first week. In that sense it's more exploitative, but if it had been an attack by a military power (which in New York would be even more absurd than a movie monster in today's day and age, the supernatural allows the leap of willful suspension of disbelief) half the people would come out to watch the movie... and the political subtext would be far too on the nose and less powerful.
My ultimate point here - if you've missed it - is that Cloverfield actually honours the victims of 9/11 (and more importantly, more horrific events - some people (cough, cough, New Yorkers, cough) really need to get over themselves) by bringing us inside the horror of such events so that we can all understand what it might be like, how confusing and terrifying it can be, and hopefully steel a little more resolve in each of us to prevent it from happening again.
Okay, I'm off my soap box for the moment. But that doesn't mean I'm finished!
A few more thoughts...
Titanic was a love story set against the backdrop of the world's most famous passnger liner sinking. Cloverfield does the same by putting a story against the backdrop of a Godzilla-like attack. The attack isn't the story. Surviving in the heaping rubble is.
I went home and rather randomly put Jaws in the DVD player. Watching the infamous first opening scene I had a revelation. Spielberg knew exactly what was going on underneath the water as Susan Backlinie was attacked by the shark. None of what happens is random. I know that making a reality of what is unseen is an important creative tool, but suddenly with outrageous clarity I saw what was going on beneath the surface. A taste... a bite and tearing a piece (leg or legs) off. A moment's respite as she clings to the buoy, legless, in shock as the first morsels go down and the shark circles for a second attack.... I imagined it all in greater clarity than this. (In a side note - I got to see our Jaws tribute scene edited last weekend. Made me very happy. It was always one of my pet scenes in the "Beast..." script.)
It occurred to me that Abrams and Reeves similarly knew at any given moment in Cloverfield what was going on in the bigger picture. What stage of any pedestrian creature feature would be going on in the world of the film.
Okay, I'm done.
So I went and saw Cloverfield last night.
It was a wild ride. I totally loved it. When I left the theatre I mentioned to the friends I went with that I expected that most of the criticism that would be lobbed at it would be how it failed to explain the initiating circumstances or the implied victory over the monster. I also had heard people couldn't handle the 'handy-cam cinematography' a la Blair Witch Project.
So this morning I took a look at what was available on-line.
Sure enough.
Other criticisms: Lame witless dialogue. Exploitative 9/11 imagery.
Every single one of these criticisms are complete and utter bullshit.
For starters I can name a dozen film (easily) that feature an enormous creature rampaging through a city. Most of them include the word 'Godzilla' in them, but it's hardly limited to that franchise. I highly recommend The Host. Despite The Host's rather refreshing look at the genre, it needs to be said about the genre as a whole - "Been there, done that."
We've all seen the tale of how the plucky team of scientists, intrepid military men and the token civilian pulled into the thick of things band together to vanquish the building-sized monster.
What hasn't been seen is the story of the guy who we see get crushed under it's foot before the final reel. THAT is this story. Uncompromisingly so. J.J. Abrams & Director Matt Reeves are never tempted to swerve to a place where our heroes become instrumental in the creature's demise. They come close, witnessing the inital bombing runs on it, but then they become the victims of the obligatory swipe at a pesky helicopter. As our beaten heroes lay in the rubble at the end of the film waiting for it to all end, their hideout becomes collateral damage to the final all-out attack on the creature.
We can assume that the creature is defeated - it is strongly implied by the nature of the faux government tag applied to the start of the film, one which indicates an inquiry into the incident. Did Rob and Beth survive? Probably not, but we don't know. Did we hear the creature's demise? We don't know. (There are reports that if you play the final radio transmission backwards that it say's "It's still alive." Even if true, frankly 'backwards masking' doesn't really exist in the world of this film. But the concept of the film directly prevents us from knowing based on the internal context, and that is how it should be. Anything else would be a cheat.
And the same applies to the cinematography and the dialogue. Both were slavishly realistic. Real people aren't capable of tossing out witty one-liners in response to their strife every two minutes for 90 minutes (or seven hours - the time the film plays out in). The film even subtly comments on it - "Why don't you ask me if I've ever heard of... Garfield." A line so witless, commenting on another character's lack of wit... it's genius.
And nothing can better put us in the situation than to see it all first person... though naming the character with the camera 'Hud' (Hudson/Heads Up Display) walks the line of self-reference. This does mean that we don't see much of the monster, 'cause naturally the protagonists are usually running in the opposite direction, but refer back to my first point - WE'VE SEEN THIS MOVIE BEFORE! Not only do we not need to see the monster, it's a refreshing and more realistic to show it to us this way.
Which leads me tot he complaints of exploitation of 9/11 imagery. Exploitation? Go to hell. If anything it's the greatest of respect. I've got this theory - stay with me here - that if we were all to be exposed to the horror of being in the chaos of the hot zone it owuld happen a hell of a alot less. And the hot zone could be anything from Ground Zero at the World Trade Centre or downtown Baghdad in April of 2003 or Guernica in 1937, or Dresden 1945... I can go on of course. In all these cases a common trait is that the civilian victims (and survivors) at the centre of the storm have little notion of what is actually happening. They might know 'we are being bombed' but even that may be obscured (note that many people thought 9/11 was a bombing while it was happening - despite the jet-liners flying into buildings overhead.) Cloverfield presents this reality clearly (in it's obscurity) from start to finish. In his final address to the camera, Rob says "If you are watching this you know more about what's happening than I do." This is thematically a very important moment. What is the name of the film? "Cloverfield." A military slang term referencing the appearance from above of an area which has just been carpet-bombed, as the dust is still settling. Could this be any more clear? What is it like to be in the horrific heat of that moment? Cloverfield attempts to capture that. Again, the first-person view is an unrelenting choice which hammers this point home and never breaks it's own rule. Having the attack in question be a movie monster rather than a military power is almost irrelevant. Part of the point is that our protagonists only know a tiny sliver of the story, so it might as well be Godzilla - or whatever.
Let's face it, being a giant monster gets more people through the doors. Just look at the record breaking box-office figures of the first week. In that sense it's more exploitative, but if it had been an attack by a military power (which in New York would be even more absurd than a movie monster in today's day and age, the supernatural allows the leap of willful suspension of disbelief) half the people would come out to watch the movie... and the political subtext would be far too on the nose and less powerful.
My ultimate point here - if you've missed it - is that Cloverfield actually honours the victims of 9/11 (and more importantly, more horrific events - some people (cough, cough, New Yorkers, cough) really need to get over themselves) by bringing us inside the horror of such events so that we can all understand what it might be like, how confusing and terrifying it can be, and hopefully steel a little more resolve in each of us to prevent it from happening again.
Okay, I'm off my soap box for the moment. But that doesn't mean I'm finished!
A few more thoughts...
Titanic was a love story set against the backdrop of the world's most famous passnger liner sinking. Cloverfield does the same by putting a story against the backdrop of a Godzilla-like attack. The attack isn't the story. Surviving in the heaping rubble is.
I went home and rather randomly put Jaws in the DVD player. Watching the infamous first opening scene I had a revelation. Spielberg knew exactly what was going on underneath the water as Susan Backlinie was attacked by the shark. None of what happens is random. I know that making a reality of what is unseen is an important creative tool, but suddenly with outrageous clarity I saw what was going on beneath the surface. A taste... a bite and tearing a piece (leg or legs) off. A moment's respite as she clings to the buoy, legless, in shock as the first morsels go down and the shark circles for a second attack.... I imagined it all in greater clarity than this. (In a side note - I got to see our Jaws tribute scene edited last weekend. Made me very happy. It was always one of my pet scenes in the "Beast..." script.)
It occurred to me that Abrams and Reeves similarly knew at any given moment in Cloverfield what was going on in the bigger picture. What stage of any pedestrian creature feature would be going on in the world of the film.
Okay, I'm done.
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