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Hipsters (2008)
6/10
A worthwhile peek inside a Russia you never knew
14 February 2014
Warning: Spoilers
Contrary to popular belief, it's not hip to be square...but it's hip to be a hipster in Red Square! The year is 1955, the setting Moscow. It's ten years after the end of the Second World War and eight years after the start of the Cold War. A city washed over in a damp, grey gloom. Our initial impressions of this Communist hub is downright Orwellian. Even without a precise knowledge, it's not far from what we imagine Russia to have been like at the time. But then before you can even say borscht, the clammy streets are flooded with a Chuck Berry-esque number. Skirts are flying, heels are clacking, boys in plaid suits and pompadours are feeling up dolls as they rock out on the dance floor. These are the stilyagi, or as we might better understand them, the hipsters. This isn't Portland though, and these aren't your typical twee teens. If you're expecting doe eyes and horn-rimmed glasses, half blinded by a block of fringe à la Zooey Deschanel, you're going to be disappointed.

The hipsters of Moscow are actually a direct contradiction to the statutes of Communism as set up by the great leaders of the past. Where uniformity is praised and uniqueness, punished, the hipsters are veritable outlaws. In a rebellious frenzy, we first meet our main characters at an illegal dance with banned American tunes recorded on X-Ray sheets. In a typical Capulets vs Montagues fashion, worlds collide and the rockabilly Polly runs into the straight-edge Mels. Named for the rock stars of Communism; Marx, Engels, Lenin and Stalin, our main man Mels is really just a conflicted kid who wants to be a part of the hipster world. With some prompting from Polly and a gradual easing-into of the waters of anarchy, Mels bids 'do svidaniya' to the Commie crowd and joins the ranks of the cool kids. Pretty soon, Polly (who's basically the Russian Michelle Williams) and Mels (who I'm pretty sure is just Haley Joel Osment) become the Queen and King of the Hipsters.

For all it's 'hipsterness', Stilyagi's most engaging moments actually come from the Communist youth and their dedication to taking down the hipsters. Going through the daily paces of perfectly executed hatred and prejudice, it's the brainwashed grey-clad kids with whom I sympathize most. That's not to say that being a hipster in Russia is a casual thing because unfortunately, being one in 1955 Moscow can lead to criminal charges. Whether it's for listening to non-approved music or for obscene dancing or for any number of other vulgar offences, just like the tiny town in Footloose, you can get busted for boppin'. However, since Stilyagi concerns itself so much with the fancy threads and coifs and tunes, we tend to forget to care about our titular hipsters and instead transfer concerns to the "enemy".

The stark contrast set up between the Hipsters and the gung-ho Communism groupies applies well to the screen, with the vivd polychromatic world of the former in a perpetual stand off with the sepia-glazed uniformity of the latter. However, everything that follows in Stilyagi is grossly misbalanced. There are some seriously fun and catchy songs and dance numbers, but they're stinted by the dreary, uninspired stretches in between. When a musical number jumps in, it's a total surprise because we've almost forgotten that what we're watching is a musical. Stilyagi's greatest downfall though actually isn't completely obvious on an aesthetic level. It's what's holding the film together, or really what's not holding it together that holds the film back. The editing is just as slow and bumpy as the polka beats that lumber along with the action. With a musical like this, Stilyagi should either be dotted with snappy, kinetic cuts, or it should be in the vein of Rodger's and Hammerstein - more likened to a stage play. Instead, the combination of medium-length shots in the musical numbers paired with long, dragged out ones, just sucks the energy right out of what should be an easily exciting film.

Funnily enough, the standard of hipsterdom in 1950s Russia is set by what is believed to be the rebellious styles and tastes of North American youth, though it couldn't be farther from the truth. The lingo the stilyagi use are absolutely straight out of 1950s America, but it's not the language of a rebelling youth culture - it's just the norm. In fact, going beyond the norm, the styles and dialogue of the stilyagi are kind of akin to the goody-two-shoes variety. It's difficult to relate to the stilyagi who are according to a North American audience, actually pretty square. Stilyagi is a bit lost in translation and so loses its appeal somewhat. I can tell you who this film will appeal to though, and that's modern hipsters. I can hear the bored, withdrawn, cooler-than- thou remarks already, "I'm really into this cult Russian musical right now - you probably haven't heard of it", "It's like John Waters meets Moscow...by the way have you seen Pink Flamingos?" Newsflash! Just because it's counter-culture, doesn't necessarily mean it's any good. Stilyagi is a decent film, memorable to a North American audiences because of its exotic appeal, but in the greater scheme of things, it's neither amazing enough to recommend nor terrible enough to slander.

What is worthwhile about the film though is a peek inside a Russia you never knew. A hipster subset isn't an element that's instantly associable with Cold War Russia but here you have it - a whole film dedicated to the hipster youth subculture. If anything, Stilyagi is worth a watch for this reason.
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Leviathan (I) (2012)
7/10
An unforgettable experimental film
14 February 2014
Warning: Spoilers
Last year, if I'd been forced to watch an 87 minutes-long experimental documentary on the North-Atlantic commerical fishing industry, in which not a single word is spoken, I'd probably have rather poked my eyes out. Luckily, I've opted to grow a pair and face the poorly-lit, disembodied camera viewpoints that seem to dominate certain experimental films, head-on. Leviathan (2012) is one of those difficult to watch films that you could never really finish unless you watched it on a big screen or had an insane amount of discipline not to periodically check Facebook. The imagery of the film comes from tiny waterproof cameras that are placed in various locations or attached to moving objects and people, capturing the sights and sounds of the commercial fishing world. Thirty percent of the film is visually stunning and the rest is a blurry, dark mess with the occasional glowing alienesque halo hovering over severed fish heads or tangled nets. One quote I came across hilariously offered the title of David Lynch, Gone Fishin' as an alternative title to the film. Other memorable shots feature a viewpoint of hopping under and above water, each time surfacing to an incredible flock of seagulls hovering just about the surface of the water. And although there is no scripted dialogue or voice-over narrative, the men who work the fishing boats are shown in all their raw honesty below the decks cleaning shells, above deck chopping rays or in the lounges watching TV on break. Leviathan covers a lot of startling images but the greatest mystery of the film is what kind of message the filmmakers were trying to make with this work, in that there really isn't a singular stance they're taking. Leviathan is categorized as a documentary, though it doesn't really seem to constitute one without any kind of information supplementary to the images. "Experimental Ethnographic film" might be a more appropriate term. Whatever the right wording is, I came away from this screening with a real respect for what the filmmakers (Lucien Castaing-Taylor and Verena Paravel) had accomplished. I can't say for certain that I can land on any kind of opinion regarding the subject of the film, but I know that I was deeply affected by certain images (especially one in which two fishermen systemically hack the wings off of Rays). Leviathan isn't in any way trustworthy or certain, but it's not a film I'll soon forget.
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9/10
A soulful and beautifully constructed portrait of a man and his music
25 June 2013
Warning: Spoilers
In the mixed up world of Coen works, Inside Llewyn Davis stands as a rather unique piece against the hilarious misadventures of films such as The Big Lebowski (1998), Raising Arizona (1987) and O Brother, Where Art Thou (2000). I'm tempted to compare this latest work to No Country For Old Men (2007), but even then, No Country's morbid tone is at odds with the poetic soul of Inside Llewyn Davis (2013). The film follows a week in the life of Llewyn Davis (Oscar Isaac), a mildly known folk singer, embodying a Bob Dylan-esque sort of life in 1960's New York, as he plays little-attended shows at The Gaslight Café in the West Village. Painted as the unsung genius, Llewyn is at a standstill in his life as he struggles to survive on what little money he has, and on what few friendships remain. One such friendship that draws particular focus is the complex ties between Llewyn, and fellow musicians, Jean (Carey Mulligan) and Jim (Justin Timberlake). While Llewyn holds the raw roots of his soulful folk above all else, Jean and Jim test the waters of mainstream accessibility and stardom, a life that Llewyn holds in little regard. At the risk of revealing too much about the plot, Llewyn is loaded down with constant rejection, grapples with his relationship with his father, and eventually drives to Chicago in a last-ditch effort to salvage his meagre career.

Though Inside Llewyn Davis is at its heart, a beautifully understated profile, it has some wonderfully funny moments as well - the best of which concerning the tabby cat who more than once, manages to derail Llewyn's already arduous life. One brilliant scene observes a shouting match over the cat's lack of scrotum.

There are a few fresh faces to the Coen-verse with Carey Mulligan, Justin Timberlake and Oscar Isaac in the titular role, but there's one Coen regular whom I'm always jazzed to see. Barging unapologetically into this reflective space, is the coked-up, crutch-wielding, ass hole jazz man, Roland Turner, played by the large and loud John Goodman. Toss in Steve Buscemi and I'd feel right at home!

Like their 2000 film, O Brother, Where Art Thou, the Coen Brothers took on the talent of T-Bone Burnett to arrange their collection of folk covers. With every soulful performance or every toe- tapping rendition, it's the music of Llewyn Davis that will send you head over heels for the film. Acting as a stark contrast to the grey, frost-licked New York City, the warm passion of the soundtrack is the lifeblood of this beautiful film.

In its running time of 105 minutes, few definite conclusions are drawn in regard to Llewyn's career and with the film ending in the same place as it started, it seems unlikely that he will break free from his cycle of obscurity. But then, the film really isn't about Llewyn's 'career' or his friends, because this is a film about Llewyn. The beginnings of the film highlight a raw, unabashed view on rejection and obscurity accompanied by this nagging expectation that Llewyn's life might blossom into a success story. But ultimately, that's not what the film is about and it's goal is not to satisfy filmic convention. Inside Llewyn Davis is very simply, a soulful and beautifully drawn portrait of a man and his music.
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7/10
A fun and pleasantly thoughtful film!
25 June 2013
Inspired by true events, The Bling Ring is as flashy as the in-your-face jewels it draws its title from. However, don't let the bling of it all detract from a depth that goes beyond surface aesthetics. Opening the Cannes Film Festival's Un Certain Regard, Sofia Coppola's comic drama The Bling Ring was was one of the most highly anticipated films of the festival. I speak from experience, having spent four (fucking) hours in line to guarantee my seat at the world premiere. It was worth it though to experience the film in the presence of Sofia Coppola herself and the rest of the cast.

Some will no doubt say that this latest film from Coppola is vapid, contrary to some of her previous films such as Lost in Translation or Somewhere - and even at first glance it really does seem this way with the film's combination of bored consumerist-driven teens and the glamorous L.A. backdrop. However, a closer look reveals the sad circumstances of the pursuits of a life of luxury and the celebrity gods we have come to idolize.The film essentially follows a group of high school-aged burglars comprised of Nicki (Emma Watson), her adopted sister Sam (Taissa Farmiga), Chloe (Claire Julien), and best friends Katie (Rebecca Ahn) and Marc (Israel Broussard). The ringleader of these brats is Katie, a troubled teen from a comfortable background who, along with Marc, has a penchant for breaking into wealthy strangers' homes and taking luxury items. It's really the image of wealth that Katie constantly craves. Acting as more of a bystander, but nonetheless willing participant is Marc, a new kid at school who latches onto Katie. Together, Katie and Marc step up their reign of robbery by breaking into Paris Hilton's home, casually taking what they want as if the super rich were exempt from basic decency. Nicki, Sam and Chloe join the two in their escapades, hitting the homes of Orlando Bloom, Lindsay Lohan and Megan Fox among others. Based on the Vanity Fair profile on Alexis Neyers (renamed Nicki in the film), the Bling Ring's fun can't go on forever though when they are inevitably intercepted. The state of mind of the group is wonderfully summed up in a police interrogation scene with Katie, in which upon learning that the police had spoken to all the victims, wide-eyed, Katie enthusiastically asks "What did Lindsay (Lohan) say?". Even facing certain jail-time, the obsessive celebrity mindset is truly a sickness for these kids.

The content of The Bling Ring appears vapid with its shiny coating and tabloid television centre, but in many respects, The Bling Ring is Coppola's thesis in a continued trend of films with the dominant voice being one of childlike innocence and naivety. Taking for instance., Coppola's 2006 film, Marie Antoinette - a prominent part of the title character's life is missing - that of the starving French citizens and desolate conditions. Instead of showing those circumstances, Coppola opts to show Marie Antoinette draped in gorgeous fabrics and her and her friends eating cakes and drinking champagne to excess. Coppola keeps the lavish, fantastical worlds in the forefront while keeping their seedy realities at bay. I've always seen this as a way of truly entering the minds of the films' characters. The naïveté and masked innocence of people like Marie Antoinette or the Bling Ring kids is reflected in their environments and truly what is appearing in the film and what is being left unsaid. The flashy and shallow tone of The Bling Ring is a projection of the material and celebrity obsessed minds of its characters. That being said, the film could have benefited from more thorough character profiles, Katie's character especially.

Casting Emma Watson in a smaller role is an interesting choice considering her massive celebrity but she did an amazing job channelling the Uggs-wearing, purse-toting, pole dancing Nicki, complete with a spot-on, cringe worthy valley girl accent. Leslie Mann, who plays her delusional mother, homeschooling her daughters in the self-help sensation, The Secret, is equally fantastic, though let's face it, she's flawless in everything. Newcomer Rebecca Ahn and American Horror Story's Taissa Farmiga as well are beautiful presences on the screen. The soundtrack is fantastic and the cinematography is beautiful in Coppola's signature dreamy pastels making for a great film that is extraordinarily fun to watch.
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