A Favorite: Sherlock Jr.

Buster Keaton's 1924 shortie, "Sherlock Jr," is my 29th favorite film of all-time and my 5th favorite film of the 20s. Here's the set-up: Buster Keaton stars as a movie projectionist/janitor for the local cinema. He dreams of becoming the next Sherlock Holmes, and he is in love with a beautiful woman. He also has a rival, the local sheik, who is just just as interested in the beautiful woman. Neither, however, have much in the way of mula to impress her. Keaton buys the woman a box of $1 chocolates and changes the price to look like it was $4. The local sheik, on the other hand, steals the woman's father's watch, pawns it for $4, buys her a box of $3 chocolates, and changes the price to look like it was $8. The father (Buster Keaton's father, actually) finds that his watch is missing. The local scumbag puts the receipt from the pawn shop in Keaton's character's pocket. Keaton's character begins an investigation into the matter, following the first steps of "How To Be A Detective," only to realize he's been framed. The rest of the film takes place inside the dream of Keaton's character. He goes to work at the cinema, falls asleep, and finds himself entering a detective flick, where he's the star detective. Hilarious gags and stunts ensue (one of which involves Keaton actually fracturing his neck!). 

The main reason I like this film more than any other Keaton film is because it's his most experimental or exploratory film. One senses Keaton was trying to both push his as well as film's boundaries here. The centerpiece of the film focuses on the power of movies to create illusion (Keaton ingeniously depicts his projectionist's dream-self entering into a movie via the big screen) and inspire (after all, the end shows the projectionist learning how to ask for a woman's hand by copying what's concurrently shown on a film). Above all, however, the film confirms that Keaton was the most imaginative silent film comic of his day, and the film went on to inspire countless directors, including Woody Allen (see esp. "The Purple Rose of Cairo").

*As of the publishing of this review "Sherlock Jr" happens to be streaming on Netflix!

Netflix Leaving: Carrie

Brian De Palma's hilarious, horror masterpiece, "Carrie" is my 28th favorite film of the 70s and my second favorite film of 1976. Unfortunately, it's leaving Netflix Instant on December 1st. The two best parts about this film are the opening sequence in all it's hyper-stylized glory and the interactions between Sissy Spacek's Carrie and Piper Laurie as Carrie's religious-crazed, abusive mother. With the exception of Kubrick's "The Shining" this is probably the best film adaptation of a Stephen King novel. Sissy Spacek is one of the greatest actresses ever. Her subtle performance here is the only one that isn't so hilariously bad that it is good; it's just good. The set up of the plot is perfect. There is not much focus on Carrie's telekinetic powers. That comes later. In the first act, the focus is on Carrie's miserable existence in High School and at home. This makes the powerful ending less of a horror film and more of a Tarantino-style revenge flick. By the final act we're rooting for Carrie, not scared of her power. Again, Spacek is a master here: transforming misfit Carrie into heroic Carrie. One of the best films about a high school misfit, "Carrie," shouldn't be missed. Make sure to watch it before it leaves Netlfix.

Late Review: Only God Forgives

Nicolas Winding Refn's "Only God Forgives" came out earlier this year, but I've only just seen it. I can't recommend it for all, but for those who enjoyed "Drive" it is worth watching even if "Drive" is vastly superior. Julian (Ryan Gosling) runs a Muay Thai boxing club in Bangkok, which is a front for a drug smuggling operation that his brother, Billy, is in charge of. Billy is pretty much a bastard. He brutally rapes and kills an under-aged prostitute (artfully shown off-screen) before being caught by the police. A police lieutenant with a penchant for taking justice into his own hands, Chang, allows the father of the prostitute to kill Billy but then chops one of his arms off for allowing his daughters to be prostitutes. Julian goes to the one-armed man to seek revenge for the killing of his brother. But when he believes the man had justification in doing what he did, he lets him live. This infuriates Julian and Billy's mother, Crystal (the great Kristen Scott Thomas). She feigns love for Julian, but is utterly disappointed in the fact that he won't avenge his brother. She finds others to do her dirty work and this brings Chang down on both Julian and Crystal.  

Unfortunately the film invites comparison to "Drive" and never succeeds quite as well as "Drive." This is largely because the symbolism related to the psyche of Julian doesn't really translate to anything coherent. Julian's character is mostly a taciturn, reluctant, momma's boy but we're never really given anything deeper than that (nor any indication that he's gotten over his issues in the end). Though "Drive" was equally minimalist in plot it some how worked to give us hints into Carrey Mulligan's hopefulness and Ryan Gosling's morality. Here Ryan Gosling's character is still somewhat of a moral beacon, but it's not always clear why, except that the film needs a hero of sorts. The only interesting character in the film is Kristen Scott Thomas's Crystal. Unfortunately, there's not enough screen time with her. However, she steals the show from all the other one-dimensional character's she's seen with

Formally, the film is genius and that's enough to watch it for die-hard Refn/"Drive" fans. The neon colors, the music, and Kubrick-esque camera work are all exquisitely done. It's a feast for the senses. The film's Lynchian violence is also exceptional. It's all about the build-up to ultra-violence. And when the violence comes, it's over quickly or mostly happens off-camera. Perhaps even better than the camera work and colors is the music. The music might even be better than the music in "Drive." It's a cool, synthetic sound that evokes "Inception" BRAMMY-ness.

In the end, it's unclear what the title suggestions. Is Chang God? Or is he the devil? Is Julian God? Is God God, and the rest of us are just unforgiving, revenge seeking pricks? It's not clear, but because the film isn't completely engaging on the level of plot nor emotions, it also doesn't make the viewer care much about getting the right interpretation (compare this year's best film so far "Upstream Color," which succeeds formally as well as substantively). However, just for it's formal brilliance, "Only God Forgives" is a good film if not a great one. It's my 10th favorite film of the year.    

A Favorite: All About My Mother

Pedro Almodovar's "All About My Mother" is my second favorite film of his (he won Best Director at Cannes that year!), my 14th favorite film of the 90s, and my favorite film of 1999 (it won the Best Foreign Language Film at the Academy Awards that year too!). The film is narrated by the son of Manuella, a nurse who works in organ donation. The son wants to be a screenwriter. Just before his 17th birthday he begins writing a script about his mother. On his 17th birthday his mother takes him to a stage performance of "A Streetcar Named Desire." While trying to get an autograph from the star of the play, he is hit by a car. The rest of the film focuses on Manuella searching for her son's father, a transvestite prostitute, in Barcelona.  The plot sounds as if it's the stuff of soap opera or inspired from a Jerry Springer show, but somehow he manages to make us feel a great deal for the characters despite the unbelievable and embellished situations they find themselves in. I've never really understood why I like Almodovar melodramas and despise others' like Douglas Sirk's and Rainer Werner Fassbinder's. Anyway, Almodovar is a great, notable exception to the rule. Almodovar dedicates the film "To all actresses who have played actresses. To all women who act. To men who act and become women. To all the people who want to be mothers. To my mother."

Almodovar puts his own very idiosyncratic spin on the feminist film as well as the gay and lesbian film here. All the splashy colors and design are here per usual but also made more vibrant because the film was shot on location in Barcelona (the greatest, most beautiful city on Earth). The film is about love of all kinds but focuses especially on a mother's love. When Manuella flies to Barcelona she finds support from all kinds of women, from past friends to new ones. One is a warm and witty transsexual, La Agrado (translation: The Agreeable; she has one of the best scenes in the film, a monologue about her becoming a woman), one is a pregnant nun (Penelope Cruz as a youngin'), and the other is the star of "A Streetcar Named Desire." The film, then, portrays a very fun and special closeness that all four of these women develop amongst each other. Moreover, the film only gets better and better upon reviewing. If you can get your hands on it, watch it back-to-back a few times!

Theatrical Release: 12 Years a Slave

Steve McQueen's third disturbing film, "12 Years a Slave," is now in theaters and is a must-see of this year. It's currently my second favorite film of the year after "Upstream Color," but it's a very close second. And really, the only reason why it's second is because (a) I would rather watch "Upstream Color" whereas it's hard to want to watch "12 Years a Slave" and (b) Brad Pitt's part in the film sticks out like a sore thumb in a film that feels impossibly authentic and organic.

The film is about a free man, Solomon Northrup (Chiwetel Ejiofor), who is mistaken for a runaway slave and, consequently, sold into slavery. The film is weakly non-narrative. In the beginning we see Solomon as Platt (the name of the supposed runaway slave) working sugar cane fields. Within five minutes there's a very sad "sex" scene---one might have expected this from the "Shame" director---and then abruptly we cut to happier times: a decade earlier in Saratoga, New York where Solomon is a free man and violin player with wife and family. But after this introduction, there are no pleasures to follow. The entire film runs 2.5hrs and I cry in 15min intervals starting with the first 15min mark where Solomon receives brutal beatings for claiming he's not a slave from Georgia but a free man from Saratoga.

Many things are just plain perfect about the film. The acting, the cinematography, and story all come together fantastically to give a matter-of-fact yet emotionally taxing experience. Because these elements come together so well and don't rely on sappy music or melodramatic contrivances, the emotional impact is stronger. It is the saddest movie I have ever seen in my life. I have never cried so much in a film. And with each viewing, the tears don't let up but get worse. The cinematography by Sean Bobbitt is fantastic. Steve McQueen says it better than I ever could: the film is like a Goya painting. It shows brutal content, but the formal aspects of each image are stunningly beautiful. I fully agree. It's hard to say, but the most disturbing scenes in the film are also the most beautifully lit and carefully shot scenes in the film.

Perhaps the greatest formal aspect of the film, however, is not the cinematography but the fact that it is a one stop shop for Oscar nominees in various acting categories. Chiwetel Ejiofor should win for best actor. He definitely has competition with Tom Hanks's Captain Philips, but Ejiofor should win in my book. He is able to portray just as much emotion and thought merely through his eyes and face as Hanks. And, moreover, Ejiofor has to do it throughout the entire film rather than save it for the last 10mins (though there is a weep-inducing last 10mins in "12 Years a Slave" too, Ejiofor and Nyong'o claim our tears long before the end as well). One of the best scenes, which comes very near the end, combines the power of Ejiofor and Sean Bobbitt's skills seamlessly. Ejiofor's character stares off into the distance as he contemplates the possibility that his last chance for survival and renewed freedom will end in another betrayal. Then suddenly he stares directly into the camera. It's visceral, hair-raising stuff. And again, brings on the water-works. Another fantastic scene occurs when a group of slaves, Solomon included, comes across a group of Native Americans. One of the Native Americans plays a violin type instrument in the foreground, while we see Solomon contemplating the scene in the background.

Lupita Nyong'o should definitely win for best supporting actress. Her scenes are the most heart-wrenching. She plays Patsey, a slave who has unfortunately been the center of her slave owner's (Epps) sexual desire. Her dialogues with Solomon and Epps and her central part in, what might be called, the centerpiece of the film all induce uncontrollable tears. And it gets worse and worse for her during the last 45mins of the film of which she is a part. Even after unwillingly submitting to Epps, privileges are taken away rather than given. And speaking of Epps, the actor of our times, Michael Fassbender is superb as he always is in McQueen's films. He plays one of the worst human beings to ever walk this Earth, but one has to admire the commitment that is so obvious in Fassbender. He is utterly transfixing as the slave owner who takes pride in being known as the "slave-breaker."

The adapted script and music are also very well done. However, the music doesn't feel as essential in the end as it did in the frightening beginning when Solomon is being taken to The South, and the script, while keeping close to the original source, betrays at least one character (Pitt's) in the last 30mins. Some have said that this is Steve McQueen's most mainstream film out of "Hunger," "Shame," and "12 Years a Slave." I probably agree, but his art-house sensibility remains here. I am thinking of one sequence in particular where Solomon is hanging by his neck on his tip-toes for several silent hours of the day before his slave owner cuts him loose. This kind of sequence would never find a place in, say, a Spielberg film because in Spielbergy/mainstream films, viewers are controlled to feel a certain way by loud music and not made to look at disturbing images for longer than a few seconds. This film deserves and demands your attention. I recommend seeing it before it soon leaves theaters. Though you probably won't feel like returning to it anytime soon, it's worth putting yourself through.

Netflix Leaving: I Am Love

"I Am Love" by Italian filmmaker Luca Guadagnino and starring the fantastic Tilda Swinton, is leaving Netflix Streaming soon. The 2009 film is about a bourgeois Italian family going through changes. The central character especially, Emma Recchi (Tilds), goes through a transformation and liberation from the lifestyle she's grown accustomed to over her years as the matriarch of the family. But really the entire family feels as if their lives are unraveling for various reasons. And when Emma sees the chance (maybe, necessity) to leave the sweet life, the rest of the family act as if they never saw it coming. The house of the Recchi's is stunning and unifies the themes of the film. It is at once refined, of times past, and a prison. 

The film is absolutely gorgeous to all the senses. The cinematography, often feeling very Altman-esque, is fantastic. The camera, ever-moving and zooming, seems to capture beauty in every moment of the slice of life we, the viewers, are witnessing. The director obviously put much thought into each shot. His goals for each shot seem to vary---sometimes it seems to be purely aesthetic goals while other times it feels as if the shots were chosen to induce metaphorical thoughts---but every shot accomplishes its respective goal. The film's look and music give off a very moody and often sensual feel that can only be compared to the exquisitely powerful "In the Mood for Love." In addition, I would guess that Italy hasn't seen a director this fantastic at representing the social level dynamics through an individual's personal experience since Luchino Visconti ("The Leopard") and Vittorio De Sica ("The Bicycle Thieves") before him.

The film reminds us of what film is capable of in terms of visuals, mood, and theme. The director is a master of metaphor. The final sequence is utterly breath-taking. [spoilers] After the accidental death of one of her sons, Emma is pondering what she should do with the remainder of her life. She's currently trapped in a cathedral like the bird that flies over her in the same structure. She realizes at this moment, that if she is ever to leave her family and this bourgeois life-style, this is her only chance. She races home to gathers some of her things. She takes one last look at her family, and then she is gone. [end of spoilers] It's absolutely hair raising stuff. None of this could have been accomplished of course without the wonderfully talented Tilda Swinton. The British actress becomes so immersed into her character's life (a Russian in Italy; when she speaks Italian you can even hear the Russian inflections) that the actor is lost. When the end comes the result is emotionally overwhelming. Music and cinematography alone could not make us feel this way. Very much is owed to Tilds's absolutely perfect performance. I fell in love with Tilds after this movie, and I am sure you will too if you haven't already. Be sure to check out "I Am Love" on Netflix before it's too late!

A Favorite: The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari

Robert Wiene's awesomely designed German Expressionist film "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" of 1920 is my 35th favorite film of all time and my 6th favorite film from the 20s. If there is one word to describe the film it's "jagged." The set design is THE REASON to watch this film. It is so awesome. The sets are super stylized with jagged buildings and diagonals painted on backdrop canvas. The actors also bring more jagged-ness as they were instructed to move in a weird jerky sort of way.  The greatest thing about all of this is that the style is indicative of the surprising content revealed at the end.

The movie inspired the twist endings and [spoilers] Martin Scorsese, chiefly, basically just ripped it off in his "Shutter Island." [end of spoilers] The film's story is told as a flashback by the main protagonist, Francis. He begins his story by recalling that he and his friend Alan were once upon a time vying for the love of a woman named Jane. The two friends visit a carnival and encounter Dr. Caligari and his creepy sleep-walker, Cesare. Caligari is showing Cesare as an exhibit at the carnival and claims his somnambulist can foretell the future. Alan asks Cesare to tell him how long he has to live and Cesare responds he has until dawn---a prophecy which is fulfilled. Later Francis and Jane become engaged and investigate Caligari and Cesare under the suspicion that it was Cesare who killed Alan. Caligari eventually learns of their plot to uncover the truth and tells Cesare to sic Jane.

Not only was it one of the first films to have a twist ending and depict altered states of the mind, but it was also a gigantic influence on film noir and horror films to come. After watching this, watch any 1940s Hollywood film noir and you will see the mood and narrative structure of Wiene's masterpiece. It's influence spans spatial and temporal dimensions. Kenji Mizoguchi's "Ugetsu" is obviously indebted to the film as are most of Tim Burton's films. Of course its influence was also contemporary to the film itself, inspiring F.W. Murnau's "Nosferatu" and Fritz Lang's "Metropolis." All in all, it is a wonderfully hypnotic film that will not allow you to forget it anytime soon after merely one viewing.
 
*As of the publication of this review, "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" is streaming on Netflix! 

A Favorite: Nosferatu

F. W. Murnau's classic German Expressionist symphony of horror, "Nosferatu" is my 20th favorite film of all time, my favorite film of the 20s, and my favorite film of 1922. The film is based on Bram Stoker's "Dracula" except it was an unauthorized film adaptation, so "vampire" became "nosferatu" and "Count Dracula" became "Count Orlok." Film theorists, critics, and historians regard the film as a masterpiece of German Expressionism, for which F.W. Murnau and his contemporary Fritz Lang were known for. Noted film critic, Roger Ebert, had this to say about the film: it is not a horror film in the modern sense that it is designed to scare the crap out of you and mess with your emotions. But it will however haunt you because of its artistry in creating a mood and atmosphere that sticks with you for years after an initial viewing.

The film's foreboding atmosphere is created ingeniously using tricks of the trade such as negative exposures, stop-motion animation, and the typical flares of German Expressionism: deep dark shadows, dark characters, and dark plots. The music of the film is absolutely perfect. The original score was produced by Hans Erdmann and was played during projections of the film in the 20s. When Nosferatu is on the prowl, the music is enough to give you goose bumps for long periods of time.

My favorite scene is when Nosferatu first attacks the protagonist, Hutter. He first appears to be far away down a hall-way. Then suddenly he appears at Hutter's door. It's really quite fantastic. The film was extremely influential to film noir and suspense genres. Orson Welles, in particular, made explicit use of the low camera angles found in "Nosferatu" in his first film "Citizen Kane." And, of course, Alfred Hitchcock would be inspired by Murnau's use of combining the everyday and horror to create many films which did just that.

*It just so happens that as of the publication of this review, "Nosferatu" is streaming on Netflix!

Theatrical Release: Captain Phillips

People really need to think harder about posters before they make them. "From the director of 'The Borne Ultimatum'"? Really? Of course it is true, but this is not the Paul Greengrass of the second two Borne films or "Green Zone." No, this is the Greengrass of "Bloody Sunday" and "United 93." This is the Greengrass that brings us harrowing docudramas (shaky cam, included) that tell us something about people under pressure to survive. So why not sell the product in a way that's indicative of what we (the consumers) are getting into. Yes? Anyway, now that I've gotten that off my chest!

The other crazy-visceral, suspenseful, engrossing, unrelenting survivor story of this year (the other being "Gravity," of course), "Captain Phillips" by Paul Greengrass, is not only all that but highly, highly emotionally taxing as well. I can't really say the same for "Gravity" (though, damn, that movie was one hell of a thrill ride). This is why I now place it a notch above "Gravity" on my top movies of 2013 list. That slaps it at second place, a notch below "Upstream Color." Tom Hanks so deserves recognition for his role as Captain Phillips. His sad eyes! When the Somalian pirates latch their ladder to his ship, and the camera cuts to his face, we can see the hope melt away. About the ending, in particular: I will pay you money if you don't shed a tear. My god! It's as if we, like Phillips, had are adrenaline on high for so long that when he's saved we can finally break down with him. And boy, does Hanks really beg us to do so with such a talent for inducing empathy.

   

It should also be noted how Greengrass decided to tell the story. Really the story is two stories, both weighted equally. Both are about humans. Not bad guys (okay, maybe there's one really bad guy that I really, really wanted to die, but...) versus good guys. The Somalian pirates are given a back story concerning just how dire their living conditions are and concerning how they have few options to make such conditions better. In addition during the "meat" of the movie, though we do not empathize with the pirates (our empathy is completely with Hanks and crew), we can sympathize with them, in part, because they are mostly painted as complex human beings. How Greengrass manages to skirt this line despite the fact that the pirates have intentions that many of us will probably (hopefully) never have and despite the fact that really only one pirate seems to be pure evil, is beyond me. But he does it well, and the film is ten times better for it. The line uttered by Somalian overnight star, Barkhad Abdi, to Hank's Phillips, something like, "I've come to far. I can't just give up." is incredible in the way it makes the viewer see the pirate in a new light without forcing us to put on his shoes (which I doubt any of us would want from a director).

This is by far one of the most gripping movies I've seen in recent time. I wholeheartedly recommend watching it on the big screen. Its final sequence will haunt you long after you leave the theater. Finally, I should add that I do not care at all about the parting this film takes from actual events. It's a movie. And as a movie it succeeds extremely well. As I said at the end of my "Gravity" review: Don't be smug. Have an experience you'll hopefully never actually have. And don't rain on others' parade when they enjoy something that's not completely accurate and not a documentary. If it is facts you're interested in, why watch fiction? It's not Greengrass's job to inform you about what actually happened. It's his job to make you experience something and, perhaps, learn something about humanity at large rather than a particular event. Boom.

A Favorite: Pan's Labyrinth

Guillermo Del Toro's Spirited Away-esqu, "Pan's Labyrinth" is my 82nd favorite film of all time, my 6th favorite film of the 00s, and my favorite film of 2006. The film can be interpreted in a few ways, but I prefer the following one. During the Spanish Civil War a young girl, Ophelia, and her mother move to the country-side to live with her step-father Captain Vidal. Captain Vidal is hunting the Spanish Marquis who are fighting against him and the Francoist regime. Ophelia's mother becomes increasingly ill because of complications with her pregnancy. As all of this ramps up, Ophelia turns to fantasy to cope. We are taken along with her into her imagination, which appears to be more real and manageable than the real world events taking place around her. Ophelia meets a faun who gives her three tasks in order to leave this cruel world and return back to the underworld as princess. I don't think any of these imaginings are actually real, but this is why the movie has such a lasting impact. If it were real, the film would be good but it would be a mere fantasy film. When we take Ophelia's romps into fantasy as figments of her imagination we really begin to sympathize with this child amidst a horrendous environment of violence and stress. To me it's like a better, updated version of "Forbidden Games" by Rene Clement. You can interpret it in a different way (in fact, Del Toro himself does), but mine is better (hahaha).

The cinematographer Guillermo Avarro manages to capture Del Toror's vision exquisitely. The dark, yet beautiful, scenes are impossibly polished and, importantly, suggestive of my interpretation of the film. The colors, textures, and composition recall night terrors I had growing up. But, of course, it's not just the cinematographer and Del Toro who capture a child's confused, fevered hallucinations so well. Ivana Baquero as Ophelia is magnificent. I do hope she has an excellent career in her future. Sergi Lopez plays the evil Captain Vidal and step-father so well. His character wouldn't be believable unless we think we are seeing Ophelia's rendition of him. With her young, naive black and white view of the world, he can only be one or the other. Lopez plays pure evil well. Finally, Doug Jones (formerly a mime and contortionist) is fantastic as the faun and completely horrifying Pale Man of Ophelia's fantasy world. Jones is so good at becoming his other-worldly characters. He's a straight up chameleon. In short, Del Toro couldn't have had a better cast.

Everything from the script, the visuals, the acting, and the score come perfectly together to create a sad but beautiful film that might be termed "an adult fairy tale." Though I'm not a huge fan of Del Toro, he certainly got it right this time. If you haven't had the chance to see it, what are you waiting for?

Theatrical Release: Gravity

Alfonso Cuaron's gripping, completely immersive, survival, sci-fi tale "Gravity" is now playing in theaters. I fully recommend that everyone watch this film on the biggest screen you can find and in a theater with Dolby Atmos surround sound, if possible. If anything is necessary to make this movie the fantastic experience it can be, it is the sound.  It's not the 3D, not the story, not the acting, and not the visuals (of course all of those are fun and awesome too; more on some of these anon). The music (oh man, that music is still ringing in my ears a week later) and the sound effects take you into space and don't let you go.

The story is simple. Two astronauts played by Sandra Bullock and George Clooney are stranded in space after an orbit of debris hits and destroys their spaceship. How will they survive in space where sound does not carry, temperatures vary wildly, O2 is running out, fuel in just about every propelling system is dwindling, and just about everything else you could expect goes wrong? Though the story is minimal (I love this about the film, by the way) and there are only two actors in the film (aside from voice acting including Ed Harris reprising for the third time his role as Houston), the experience is not. This is a movie experience of a life time. This is not a novel or short story where psychological details and plot are of the essence. Rather we are living chiefly with and sometimes even inside the helmet of Sandra Bullock's character during the 5 or so hours she spends trying to survive in the inhospitable environment that is space.

This shot is the shot of the movie. It is terrifyingly brilliant and encapsulates the breathtaking experience provided by Cuaron throughout 90 mins. Though the film is less heady than, say, "2001" or Tarkovsky's "Solaris," the film still hints at interesting themes of rebirth and growth as we follow Bullock's astronaut through her incredible life and character changing experience. If she survives, she'll have one crazy story to tell, and she'll never be the same because of it.

Cuaron and his terrific DP Emmanuel Lubezki go back and forth between long, ever-moving tracking shots and in-close, claustrophic-inducing shots. The first shot has been talked about at great lengths already. I clocked it at 12 minutes and 41 seconds. It was superbly done and introduces everything you need to know for the entire ride. At 7 minutes Houston notes that a satellite has been shot down by Russia but that the debris's trajectory is not on their orbit. Then at 9 minutes, that all changes. The debris has caused a chain reaction and now other debris has been created which is very quickly going to hit the astronauts working on the Hubble space telescope. It's amazing how Cuaron and Lubezki manage to do this. In addition, every other shot in the film is magnificent. The use of reflections, in particular, is quite unlike anything I have ever seen in a film.

Though I typically either love or hate both of the main actors, I thought they did a very nice job here. Sandra Bullock, in particular, was extremely surprising. I hope she continues to surprise in her next roles. And George Clooney offers bits of humor to relax us a bit from the edge of our seats. Though the film itself is unforgettable and it will have your blood pressure on high long after you leave the theater, I do not think the experience will be the same on subsequent viewings. That's one thing that films that are equally unforgettable, like "2001" and this year's "Upstream Color," have that "Gravity" does not. In addition, though some have claimed that it's as much of an emotional experience as it is a purely physical experience, I disagree. The emotional resonance could have been stronger, but this is a minor criticism as the pure visceral experience is experience enough. This is a must-see of 2013; it's currently my second favorite movie of the year.

*Note there's no mention about how factual the movie is in this review. That's because how factual a science-fiction film is, ultimately doesn't matter to a movie experience. This isn't a documentary, folks. Don't be smug. Enjoy the thrills.  :-)

A Favorite: The Player

Robert Altman's 1992 satire, "The Player," is my 4th favorite film of his, my 21st favorite film of the 90s, and my 2nd favorite film of that year. The story is about a Hollywood studio exec (Tim Robbins) who murders an aspiring screenwriter because he thinks the screenwriter is sending him death threats. Perhaps the greatest thing about watching "The Player" is catching all of the inside jokes Altman lays out for his viewers. With around sixty celebrities making cameo appearances, Altman stated wryly that it was a mild satire that wouldn't offend anyone.

The opening shot---which references both Orson Welles's "Touch of Evil" and Alfred Hitchcock's "Rope"---lasts an outstanding 7 minutes and 47 seconds. It is fantastic how Altman moves his camera around a Hollywood studio lot, introducing many of the main characters quickly in short little episodes as they pass by the camera numerous times. This feat was harder to do before digital filmmaking became the norm as it essentially is nowadays. Apparently it took 15 takes, but everyone of them was worth getting the final outcome.

Like many of Altman's films, this film is an ensemble. And like many of his ensemble films the cast members feed off of each other perfectly. Everyone in this film is in one of their best roles of their career. Tim Robbins plays the slimy Hollywood exec, a very young Vincent D'Onofiro plays the down-on-his luck, piss on the world writer, and Greta Scacchi plays perfectly the mysterious and seductive love interest, just to name a few. Oh! Richard E. Grant is really terrific as the Brit who at first puts integrity before business and then succumbs to Hollywood ruin. Finally and, again, like many Altman films, the plot moves in strange and unexpected ways. However, he manages to somehow put all the pieces of a typical Hollywood film in: violence (though against the innocent), comedy (but at the expense of the main characters), and [spoilers] a Hollywood ending (even though the guy is guilty). If you ever get the chance to see it, do so. It was also (ironically) a commercial success, so, I'm sure you'll love it as much as I do no matter your taste.

A Favorite: 8 1/2

Having six feature films (including "La Strada," "Nights of Cabiria," and "La Dolce Vita"), two short films, and another film that he co-directed under his belt, Federico Fellini released "8 1/2" in 1963. "8 1/2" is my 13th favorite film of all-time, my second favorite film by Fellini, my third favorite film from the 60s, and my favorite film from 1963. The film is a series of vignettes. The main thread of the film is about a director with "director's block" named Guido (played by the immensely talented and charismatic Marcello Mastroianni). Not only is he having trouble with completing or even starting a grandiose science fiction film that contains obvious autobiographical references, but he's also having marital troubles. The other episodes consist of Guido's fantasies, memories, and dreams. The film captures what film can, perhaps, do better than any art-form: the visual mental experiences of a protagonist.

Though the star is the great Mastroianni, the film also has two of the best and most beautiful Italian actresses as well: Anouk Aimee and Sandra Milo. The two play Guido's wife and mistress, respectively. A big reason why the film is so beautiful to look at is simply because these three ooze so much charisma. One can hardly take their eyes off of any of them. Perhaps one of the greatest things about the film is the fact that it works for folks with either highbrow or mainstream sensibilities. Everyone will enjoy, at least, a bit of it. Personally, I can't say any single part is my favorite because the whole damn film is perfect. But I must admit, when I rewatch the film, I find myself in high anticipation for the beach prostitute sequence!

"8 1/2" is often cited as the definitive film about a director. It went on to inspire many films including Truffaut's "Day for Night," Woody Allen's  "Stardust Memories," and, recently, Charlie Kaufman's "Synecdoche, New York." It's ranked among the greats in all of the big film polls like Sight & Sound. It's also consistently cited as a favorite among directors such as Terry Gilliam, Martin Scorsese, and Neil Jordan. Lastly, I should say that the film has one of the best endings in all of cinema's history. Most of the players dance around the spaceship on a beach. It comes out of nowhere but feels so perfect and upbeat like the rest of the film. As the credits roll, one really does get the feeling that Fellini has made the true and honest autobiographical film that Guido is unable to make.

*It just so happens that as of the publishing of this review, "8 1/2" is streaming on Netflix!

Netflix Streaming: Chop Shop

Before Ramin Bahrani made (what appears to be the misfire that is) "At Any Price," he made a wonderful film, "Chop Shop," in 2007. The film is about a 12 year old orphan boy who lives and works in a chop shop in the gritty underbelly of NYC. Though that's essentially all the film is about, it's powerful in its exploration of days in the life of this unfortunate boy named Ale. The film uses the tired themes of many indie films in the states: dude works five jobs, the false dream that is the American one, etc. However, here our blue-collar hero happens to be a 12 year old boy. 

Stylistically, the film is incredible. Bahrani and his DP are meticulous in their creation of atmosphere and setting. No single camera angle or piece of background scrap was improvised. Though Bahrani didn't drill his non-actors, the lighting and setting were, in fact, extremely well-thought out. As is typical of art-house films, long shots are favored so that the actors can ignore the camera. The film is an example of the American neorealism scene that has been growing in popularity among indie filmmakers. It was filmed on location and used primarily non-actors, just as Italian neorealists Vittorio De Sica and Roberto Rossellini did in the 40s.

The character of the boy is quite interesting in his optimism despite the events he's experienced in his life. He and his sister suffer great hardships and yet, for the most part, he deals with the situation very well. In addition to his optimism, he's somehow managed to stay moral throughout his life. He does not steal, for instance. Rather, he simply scrimps and saves, working upwards of five odd jobs. Importantly, Bahrani does not try to paint an inner picture of Ale nor does he try to put him on a pedestal. This is behaviorist cinema, what cinema should be, at its best. We merely view Ale in times of "success" and failure and yet Bahrani and his crew manage to capture the viewer's sympathy. We celebrate those little stepping stones that help get Ale closer to his end-goal and lament all of those falling rocks obstructing it. It's on Netflix Instant, so, give it a try!

In Theaters: Prisoners

Denis Villeneuve's dark, disturbing, and Zodiac-esque "Prisoners" is now playing in theaters. Hugh Jackman (aka Wolverine) is ostensibly the star, but this is easily Jake Gyllenhaal's show. Keller Dover (Jackman) is a deeply religious man's man in Alabama, PA. During the holidays he and his wife attend Thanksgiving Dinner at The Birch Family's (Terrence Howards and Viola Davis) house. Both family's lose track of their respective six year old daughters. Because of what happens in immediately preceding scenes, The Dover and The Birch Families suspect the suspicious man in the camper, played by the immensely talented Paul Dano. It's every parent's worst nightmare. Loki (Gyllenhaal), a detective who's solved every case he's been on, is assigned to the case. He tracks down the RV, and he and his squad mates approach the RV cautiously. Paul Dano's character panics, tries to speed away, and crashes into a tree. This is how "Prisoners" begins. And this sort of suspense and thrill is kept at this level throughout the entire film. The first 30-45mins or so does a really fantastic job of quickly setting up the plot and building up the feelings of frenzy and despair in the four parents. The film is at once a domestic drama, complex morality tale ("How far would you go for your loved ones?"), and a deep study on the type of person who would take the law into their own hands in this anguished setting.

From the first shot on, expert DP, Roger Deakins, depicts a winter-scape that's cold and indicative of dread and decay. When the camera moves, one often experiences chills. I think the film is especially interesting when viewed as Loki's story. It may just seem as though he represents the viewer (twitchy character trait included), an outsider who's trying to piece the puzzle together. But, really, Gyllenhaal takes over the heart of the film as the quiet, relentless, hero that asks for no thanks nor applaud. The movie's beginning foreshadows this baton pass so that it's not jarring to the viewer (see e.g., "Place Beyond the Pines"). Jackman is uniformly good throughout as are Howards and Davis. All four actors tug at our inner emotions and curiosity. The acting makes this movie. If other lesser actors were used or these actors not as committed, the film would be a difficult watch. Jackman, Gyllenhaal, Davis, and Howards expertly reveal their characters' internal life subtly yet clearly.

I think my only criticism is how the knotty plot becomes mostly thoroughly explained in monologue fashion. It's lazy, I think, but it's a minor criticism. A gasp-inducing, abrupt ending (one of the best kinds!) makes up for this. Some might find the film on the longish-side and sigh when one character is introduced seemingly to ramp up the tension mid-way through. However, this was not my experience. It would be difficult for me to decide what to shave off, if I had to. I thought everything about every shot deserved to be in the film, and not just for its dark beauty. "Prisoners" is subtle story-telling at its best. If you come out of it thinking some scene wasn't necessary, you probably weren't paying attention. So as not to get distracted, check it out at a time when it's unlikely that lots of rude audience members will be in attendance. "Prisoners" is my 4th favorite movie of the year so far. It definitely doesn't need your money, but it's worth it provided you can stand some fairly graphic scenes of Wolverine-like rage.

A Favorite: In the Mood for Love

Director Wong Kar-Wai and DP Christopher Doyle's 21st century magnum opus "In the Mood for Love" is my 46th favorite movie of all-time, my first favorite film from the director, my first favorite film from the 00s, and my first favorite film from the year 2000. That's a lot of firsts! Not only is the film made by one of my favorite directors and one of my favorite cinematographers, but the film is also the film that gave birth to my love for its two leads: Maggie Cheung and Tony Leung. "In the Mood for Love" is the second part in Wong Kar-Wai's 1960s Trilogy, which is bookended by the superbly paced and interestingly structured, "Days of Being Wild," as well as Wong Kar-Wai's crisply photographed pseudo venture into the sci-fi genre, "2046."

The Chinese title for "In the Mood for Love" is a metaphor for fleeting youth, beauty, and love. The metaphor speaks volumes about the themes of the film. But the English title does a good job too. Maggie Cheung plays a wife of a busy business man (never seen) who's always on the road. Tony Leung's character is a husband of a woman (again, never seen) who tends to work overtime. It turns out that the unseen husband and wife are probably seeing each other given some evidence. Both Cheung and Leung's lonely characters, having bumped in to each other alone around the apartment complex, are starved for love and find it innocently in their occasional meetings. These meetings eventually blossom into some of the most affectionate, yet still innocent, times they'll ever experience. But they can not keep it up because they "won't be like them." Years pass and the romance of lost opportunity is elegantly expressed with voice over and lyrical imagery in typical Wong Kar-Wai/Christopher Doyle style.

My breath is being taken away, and I have goose-bumps just thinking about this fantastic film, bathed in gorgeous reds and greens. This is probably the most romantic and intensely sensual film I have ever seen. It will put you in the mood for love despite the fact that the two leads do not so much as hold hands onscreen. I think that missed opportunities from the past are often experienced as very romantic when one thinks back. The film plays like one of these memories that one or both of the two main characters must have. I am a sucker of nostalgia these days, and Wong Kar-Wai drives into the nostalgia of missed romances exquisitely.

Of course, I can't write a review of this film without saying something about Wong Kar-Wai's excellent use of music. I think it's rare that music is so important in film. Often films lazily use music to stir up emotions that aren't set-off visually. And one thing about old Hollywood films, even though I love them, is their incessant use of music that you can basically just ignore. Here neither is the case. Wong Kar-Wai uses music as if it is another character, coming back to remind us of scenes past. The music complements the visuals (together they entrance the viewer like almost no other film can); it does not try to compete with them. And I would be hard pressed to find anyone who thought they could simply ignore the music's power in this film. The cinematography's greatness goes without saying. Christopher Doyle pours color into every scene making everything from Cheung's dresses to dirty side-streets eye-popping. Wong Kar-Wai and Christopher Doyle's use of low lighting and slo-mo adds intimacy to the atmosphere. If you haven't thought of missed or lost romances in a while, Cheung, Leung, the music, and the cinematography will force you to during and long after you witness this fantastic film.

*As of the publishing of this review, "In the Mood for Love" is Netflix Leaving on October 1st, 2013. A sad day indeed.

A Favorite: Bicycle Thieves

Vittorio De Sica's 1948 "Bicycle Thieves" aka "The Bicycle Thief" is my 12th favorite movie of all-time and my favorite film from the 40s. The story is about a father in post WWII Italy who must find his stolen bike with his son's help or else lose his job. Though "Bicycle Thieves" is often called a masterpiece of "Italian Neo-Realism"---and it certainly is in that style (using real locations, with non-actors, about post-war Italy, etc)---it is, in my opinion, more melodramatic or sentimental than other examples from the style like, say, Roberto Rossellini's "Rome, Open City" or, for that matter, his entire trilogy. Typically that is a knock on a film for me. However, like Almodovar, De Sica manages to pull it off somehow. The scenarios and the acting from the cute little boy (who often appears to be a cute little man) are a bit embellished, but, again, somehow it works throughout.

For me, one of the best things about the film is the cinematography. As I've said time and time again, I am a sucker for the tracking shot. De Sica's constantly moving camera captures the isolation and despair of his two central leads by following them through gigantic imposing buildings throughout Rome. Certain kinds of tracking shots add poetry to film, I think. (This is probably why Tarkovsky was so fond of them as he wanted to create a film poetry.) But this isn't a fluffy poem about a father and son's adventure to find a bicycle thief. The poem is mundane in both style and substance, perhaps it could be likened to a T.S. Elliot poem.

Another reason why the film is so good is because of the way De Sica is able to find, in this particular father and son story, a symbol or exemplar of life in post-war Italy more broadly. The father and son face the threat of poverty continually---the viewer is consistently on edge about just how this family will survive. Bureaucracies and faux Oracles can do nothing to help them. The father must eventually take the situation of his stolen bicycle into his own hands. Suffice it to say the film ends tragically. The influence of "Bicycle Thieves" in the history of film is really something. It has inspired everything from the the French New Wave and Satyajit Ray's "Apu Trilogy" to the even more recent Indie Film movement in the states and the Iranian New Wave movement. It's just an all-around well-made film that everyone should see at least once in their lives.

*As of the publishing of this review, it's on Netflix Instant, so, be sure to check it out soon!

Netflix Streaming: Nobody Knows

Hirokazu Koreeda is one of the most underrated directors of our time. Time and time again he comes up with something that is at once original and yet accessible. His 2004 "Nobody Knows" is no different. The film is based on the 1988 true story known as "The event of the four abandoned children." Four children between the ages of 5 and 12, each having different fathers, are abandoned by the mother. They are forced to rely on each other to survive on their own. Though it is based on the true story, only the setting of Sugamo and the ending are factual. The film's version of the story is far less grisly. The film is not told in a sentimental, Hollywoodish type of way. Rather the camera almost spies on these children in an emotionally detached manner. We, like the camera, can do nothing for these poor children. Though the film is in a subdued, objective style, it still manages to induces compassion on the part of the viewers. This is why Koreeda is such a brilliant contemporary filmmaker. Of course, Koreeda couldn't have done it without his stellar cast of young child non-actors. Though they primarily function as a symbol for society's neglect of youngsters, they give moving performances that doubtless will make you smile and cry. It's perhaps a bit longer than it needs to be, but I've found this to be only a problem on second and third viewings. Lucky for all of us, it's on Netflix! Check out this exemplar of my favorite kind of filmmaking.

A Favorite: Dekalog X "Thou shalt not covet"

The final part in Kieslowski's brilliant "Dekalog" miniseries is quite the departure from the tone and style of the other episodes. It's a foray into comedy for Kieslowski. The story concerns two brothers, each played by two fantastic actors (they also played brother's in Kieslowski's "Trois Colours: White" as well). One brother is possibly jobless and has a family. The other brother is part of a terrible metal band "City Dead." Neither have much money. However, their father, the stamp collector from episode eight, dies, and, as it turns out, his stamps are worth gobs and gobs of money. Do they keep the collection or pawn it for money? The lust for money leads the two down a slippery slope of greed and mistrust for one another. This is my sixth favorite episode in the "Dekalog" series. I've always enjoyed Kieslowski's attempts at comedy, even though his attempts are often dark rather than light. The end of this episode is a perfect ending to the entire series as well. [spoilers] Though greed gets the best of the two, the mess they find themselves in also reestablishes their relationship as brothers. In the end they even start a new stamp collection, which might indicate that they've learned to honor their father's death instead of treating it as a means to an end.

A Favorite: Dekalog IX "Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife"

The ninth episode of Kieslowsi's "Dekalog" is a vast improvement from the eighth episode. The cinematography, which highlights the more dramatic elements of the story with inventive shots, and especially the music (it made me think of "Blue" in Kieslowski's "Trois Colours Trilogy") are positively perfect. Although one might have expected episode six "Thou shalt not commit adultery" to be about marital infidelity, it is saved for this episode. The episode begins with the husband (a heart surgeon) finding out from his doctor that he has erectile dysfunction. He and his wife must figure out how to work their relationship under such circumstances. Without emotion he honorably tells his wife that, if she decides to stay with him, she can have sexual relationships with other men. Nevertheless, the husband isn't sure of his decision or his wife anymore. He notices a physics notebook in their car, he (though not very tactfully) taps their home phone, and he makes a copy of the key to his mother-in-law's apartment. He suspects his wife is cheating on him with a physics graduate student in his mother-in-law's apartment. There is also a side-story about the heart surgeon's beautiful patient, which reflects his own conundrums. This is my fifth favorite episode. I especially love how just when we think the film has reached it's dramatic conclusion, it has not. The ending is probably the most moving out of all of the "Dekalog" films. 

A Favorite: Dekalog VIII "Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor"

This episode of Kieslowski's "Dekalog" is about a Polish ethics professor and a younger American colleague. Unlike most of the other episodes, the eighth episode is dialogue-ridden (far too much for my taste). The central issue is set up in a classroom discussion. [spoilers] The American colleague sits in on the ethics professor's class and retells a true story involving her (unbeknownst to the ethics professor) and the ethics professor. The American colleague was once a young Jewish girl in Nazi occupied Poland seeking help from a Catholic family. It just so happens that the matriarch of the Catholic family was the ethics professor. The American colleague ends her story by saying that the Catholic family turned her away at the last minute because, as good Catholics, they could not lie. She then raises the question as to whether anything was more important than a child's life. The film is my ninth favorite in the series for three reasons. First, though I am usually a sucker for tracking shots, I found the hand-held tracking shots here to be artificial and not well-motivated. Second, the dramatic stories of the past are merely recounted verbally. Finally, there's not a whole lot of interesting chemistry between the ethics professor and the American colleague. Nevertheless, this installment still resonates when the ethics professor confesses: "You are right; no ideal is worth more than the life of a child."

A Favorite: Dekalog VII "Thou shalt not steal"

The seventh installment of the "Dekalog" opens with the blood curdling cries of a six year old child coming from an apartment in the complex that is the central setting of Kieslowski's world. The film is not just about theft, but also about the importance of a mother's love. It's clear that this child lacks a mother's love. The child lives in the apartment with her grandparents and 22 year old mother (so, the film is also about babies having babies), who has just been expelled from the university. To save face, the grandparents adopted the child from their daughter. The mother and the grandmother have a very strained relationship, all things considered. Now the mother plans to kidnap her. But she asks, "Can you steal something that's yours?" Again, this is the perfect example of Kieslowski taking one of the ten commandments and twisting it into something much more interesting than a simple morality tale. Though this is so, the episode has a much more conventional plot than the other episodes. It has all the hallmarks of an adventure film: a getaway, a search for the fugitives, death threats, and so on. There's also a bit too much explaining back-story through dialogue for my tastes. These occur between the grandparents and between the mother and father of the six year old. On the other hand, the acting is exceptional. Perhaps the best actress is the girl who plays the six year old child. She's one of the best actresses in the entire series. The end is also fantastic: it turns out that the 22 year old child needs as much love from a mother as the six year old child needs. This is my eighth favorite episode.