Reviews
Benny & Joon (1993)
funny *and* realistic (whatever others may say)
I first saw this movie with almost no expectations. Now I own it and have watched it more times than I can remember.
I have heard that this movie caught a lot of flak about not being "realistic" about mental illness, and not providing a diagnosis for Joon, etc. I think that it is more realistic for the "average" person with a mental illness than any other movie I have seen on the topic. There was no theme of "being institutionalised forever" and there was no unrealistic expectation of a "cure".
The character of Sam put it best when he said "Aside from being a little mentally ill, she's pretty normal." I think that's the best quote I've heard in a movie, on that particular topic.
I also think there is a reason for there being no stated diagnosis of Joon. She personifies those of us who can't get on with the things we want to do in life because of a mental illness and treatment getting in the way. She does it very well, down to the mannerisms. If she were to be labeled, say, obsessive-compulsive, or post-traumatic stress disorder, or schizophrenic, or bipolar, then the universality would be taken out of it and it would suddenly only apply to people with one certain label.
This movie did wonders for my family. Upon watching it, we all said "That's us!" and learned to laugh at ourselves and the situations we got into. It offered me a lot of hope -- what more could I want than to find an understanding and eccentric friend to love and move into my own apartment, away from the mess of hospitals and doctors? It still makes me laugh every time I see it, and "Joon" has become a household word... I recommend this to anyone, particularly anyone with a mental illness, and their families -- it might lighten things up, but it certainly doesn't skip over the bad parts.
Pink Floyd: The Wall (1982)
bored right through my wall
This movie is well put together. It is also powerful. It is full of images and sounds that are impossible to forget. A lot of people I have met don't seem to take it very seriously. It is very serious; it is not a party or something. I sometimes wonder if anyone listens to the words. I've seen this movie probably 10 times, which is 8 or 9 times more than I needed to. It left a lasting impression from the start; almost (if not totally) a traumatic experience. You could say it bored through my wall.
Most people seem to handle it better than I did. I used to jump to the conclusion that they "just didn't understand". At this point, I could handle it well, too. But for some reason I have no desire to watch it. I still listen to "Hey You" which was on the album but not the movie. It holds a special place.
If you want to see inside the mind of the profoundly isolated this is a good movie to see. If you are already profoundly isolated, especially through depression or psychosis or something like that, avoid it -- it can make you more so.
I got a lot out of this movie, but it is dangerous at the same time. This won't keep anyone from going out and watching it, and I don't want to do that though. Just a warning, cautionary and cautious. Is it possible for a movie to be too good?
Solyaris (1972)
a film that drew me in
I just saw this movie today, for the first time. I didn't know what to expect -- I had read a review of it on a web page devoted mainly to 2001, and it looked intriguing. The box said something about a "thriller", though, and I was afraid it would be more of a horror film than anything else. Since I don't like horror films, that would have been bad if it had turned out to be true.
I have heard complaints, as with 2001, of the length of this film. Maybe it's a difference in what I am used to, but if I can stare out of a car window at a rarely-changing and familiar landscape for three or more hours, I can watch a movie for three hours.
There was something to the feel of this film that made it very easy for me to get into it. The fragmented views of scenes, jumping from one angle to another, the tendency of anything looked at for long enough suddenly filling the whole field of vision, and the overwhelmingness of water and the ocean; all those things made me (as someone with Irlen syndrome, a visual-perceptual disorder with very similar visual effects) feel right at home. I'm sure there were many aspects of the film that were more universal kinds of metaphors -- the ocean could be one of them.
This film drew me in, and presented me with a lot of images, thoughts, and feelings that I can't put into words. There was something beautiful about the whole thing, and something dreamlike -- I often felt as if I were dreaming while watching it. The use of sound made the dreamlike quality more apparent.
I don't know what "category" to put this movie into. It was in the "foreign" section of the local video store, I thought it would be science-fiction, but it said "drama" on the case. I'll leave that to the video store people. I don't think it really needs a category.
I would recommend this movie to anyone who likes science fiction, wants to think a lot about things -- everything, really --, and isn't afraid of things because of not being able to name them. I suppose a tolerance for long movies should go in there, although it didn't strike me as long. I have watched comparatively short movies that seemed a lot longer, and which I have had to give up in the middle of out of lack of interest (I would rather have been staring out a window at nothing) or sheer embarrassment.
I loved this movie, in a quiet and reflective sort of way. It is indelibly incorporated into my mind now, probably just as intended by the filmmakers.
2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)
my favourite... *both* see it *and* read the book!
Reading the comments, and talking to people, this seems to be one of those movies where you either like it or you don't. I've never heard anyone say "Oh, it's okay..." - they either go on about how good it was or how bad it was. It's probably my favourite movie, so I guess that makes me one of the former.
I first saw this movie with no real expectations; someone told me I had to see it. I remember thinking the ape-men scene was drawn out, but it wasn't drawn out the second time I watched it. It was probably the person I was with, which often influences how I feel about certain aspects of movies.
To someone who has always dreamed about spaceflight, and loved the "Blue Danube" ( :) ), both from an early age, this movie was very little else but beautiful. As a matter of fact, it was a childhood piano teacher who first recommended the book series to me -- I only remembered this after I'd seen it twice.
I read the book eventually, and loved it. Normally, I like the book over the movie. Occasionally, I like the movie over the book. This was neither. To only see the movie, or only read the book, is to get only part of an amazing story. They have slightly different plotlines, both of which seem right; even though they contradict each other in the logical sense, they really augment each other and build into something more than either one alone.
I recently found the book, "The Lost Worlds of 2001" by Arthur C. Clarke. It is out of print, and I had been searching for it in used bookstores for awhile. It describes some of the process of making the movie and writing the book/screenplay. It also has previous versions of parts of the story.
Here is another place where I break one of my usual "rules". Normally, given two versions of a poem or other piece of writing, I will prefer the first one whether I know it is first or not. In this case, I prefer the finished product. But the different universes that open up in the alternate stories are interesting, too...they just seem (and probably are) unfinished and the eventual end result is more satisfying somehow.
As far as the Stargate sequence toward the end, it was just a blob of confusing bright colours to me until the last two times I saw it. Given eyeglasses that block out a lot of light, I noticed that there are actually landscapes and things in there besides just abstract forms!
The Starchild is yet another thing in this film that I find it difficult to use anything other than superlatives about. It embodies one of my pet theories about things - that in order to see things the way they are, a person has to get rid of everything attached to their perceptions and revert to the perceptions of an infant; also, that going "forward" often looks like going "backward"...
I personally have no problem with the length of this film; it's not something I really took into consideration. It may have something to do with being able to stare out a car window at nothing for a longer period of time -- 2001 is way more interesting than that, and holds my attention more easily.
If you see this movie, read the book. If you've read the book, see the movie. Otherwise you're not getting the whole picture.