gingerrdriley Reviews

Sumodo (2020)

A slice of life, but not the best one.

[6/10 · 13 April 2022]

This film is one which any self-respecting sumo fan will see at some point. It is a nice portrait of the wrestlers featured and has some nice coverage of training and competition.

This film is also not a very compelling narrative, and frankly doesn't entice one to sit down with it again. Like many other attempts to document sumo, the information is incomplete and there are key moments which could not be captured because of the limited access and financial support for the director.

If you're new to sumo, this is probably a good introduction. If you're a fan, then it's nice supplementary material, but not likely very informative overall. Certainly worth seeing at least once, and with company if you can help it. It's clearly a film which respects sumo and tries to show the aspects of it which truly captures the hearts of fans.

Hero (2002)

The fact that spaghetti westerns rarely, if ever, feature spaghetti should tell you something about dishonesty in film making.

[7/10 · 30 June 2017]

It's really good, but you should try not to view it with the expectation of conventional film making, despite the time tested method of storytelling.

Watching this film for the second time recently, someone I was with remarked that this film resembles a sort of Greek tragedy. I think that's actually a really good way to contextualize this film. The way this film is written and presented is more evocative of ancient methods of storytelling which precede traditional film. I'm not really referring to the way the way the characters speak to each other necessarily, nor the predictability of the narrative (though in fairness, the narrative isn't super hard to follow or even predict). The methods I'm referring to run more along the lines of storytelling by the characters, exaggerated supernatural ability of the characters, and the clear sense of morality and ideology by both the characters and, it seems, Yimou Zhang. The writing of this film reminds me more of Homer's Odyssey than a kung fu movie.

Speaking of Homer, the characters in this film are presented in the action scenes as being superhuman in skill and ability. This is done, of course, via beautifully choreographed wire fu. These scenes are plentiful in the film and greatly accentuate the poetic nature of the story. I should clarify though, for the most part the action in this film is meant to express emotions that have very little to do with tension. They're not typical movie fights. The point is not to wonder what will happen or who will win, but rather to understand the emotions and motivations of the characters through a sort of elaborate dance. If you understand the nature of the story and how the action compliments it, then you will see its true value.

The common complaint I hear concerning this film is that its somewhat shallow. I would actually agree with that, in a way. This film doesn't really ask any difficult questions, and I can't imagine any intelligent audience would find it especially challenging on an emotional level. While I do admire the relatively unique method of story telling, so far as the context of the film medium is concerned, I can't say it lends itself too well to the type of moral quandaries or meditations which are characteristic of great films. It's akin to a children's film. The observations and themes it presents are things which are just common knowledge for anyone older than 12. That's not to say it's bad. This is a very good film. Bear in mind though, that your emotional resonance with it might not amount to much.

It's a visual feast, and a love letter to historical storytelling. Check it out, but don't come with too many expectations of a conventional film.

Drunken Master II (1994)

Herring is actually a bit better than I thought it would be.

[6/10 · 26 June 2017]

So this film is fairly uneven. On one hand, its story is either lacking in tonal coherence or is generally scatter brained. On the other hand, the fight choreography and stunt work is genuinely breathtaking.

The story isn't necessarily incomprehensible, though it seems to try very hard to be. I get the distinct impression that there was either difficulty in getting all the coverage required for the plot, or that the editor had a very fuzzy understanding of how to put all the scenes together in a way which made sense, mostly it feels like the former. At a certain point it literally feels like scenes are missing from the film. It doesn't ruin the experience, but it makes it difficult to be especially invested in the characters and their motivations. Speaking of characters, they're mostly fine I guess. Jackie Chan at least represents some kind of arc or emotional conflict that the audience can get involved in. For the most part though, a lot of characters feel underdeveloped to the point of being sort of place-holders. I guess the main takeaway is that this film would be kind of bad if not for the martial arts.

The martial arts and accompanying stunt work in this film is of the highest caliber. It's sort of to be expected of a Jackie Chan feature, but even so, there are some fights in this film which seem to defy all conventions of action and the laws of physics. Admittedly, a lot of it is pretty cornball. The sort of levity which is characteristic of a lot of the action is very fitting I think. It better compliments the light comedic tone of this film than more serious encounters might have. I mean, the fighting can often be a lot funnier than the sort of weird attempts at humor that come during the "down time". I'm not trying to undermine the legitimate tension that comes during some of the fighting. I'm just saying that the tone of the action fits very well into the rest of the film.

Despite the largely messy story, the martial arts action in this film is executed with absolute mastery. It's worth checking out by virtue of its highlights. Go for it, it's good.

13 Assassins (2010)

Sorry boys.

[6/10 · 15 June 2017]

The answer to the inevitable question of everyone who is considering watching this film for the first time is yes, 13 is too many assassins.

Of course I am not referring to the strategic value of that number, but rather what it suggests about the approach to story and character in this film. I think of any chanbara film I have ever seen, this one has perhaps the least to offer in way of commentary or emotional resonance. It's a little confusing, because I can tell Miike is a good director, or at least has the capacity to be one. From a directional and visual standpoint this film isn't lacking by any stretch of the imagination. It's well executed. The problem is in what exactly is being executed.

The story is simple to a fault. It's incredibly predictable how the series of events will play out to the point that you know by the ten minute mark what's bound to happen at the two hour mark. Here is where the issue of the excessive number of assassins is relevant. Going into this film, I knew that there wasn't going to be an opportunity to develop every character to the point of being fully realized. My suspicions were of course confirmed, but even more sobering was that there was hardly a single character I could really care about among this excessive cast. There's somehow no room in this two hour epic for a single character arc or decision not made in the first half an hour which makes any of the characters three dimensional. This is where an imbalance in the story and execution is really apparent. All the scenes are done well, but the story fails to make any of it mean anything.

Simplicity in film plot is not an inherently bad thing. A story without real character or theme is however. 13 is too many assassins. There isn't room for characters amid the epic turmoil on screen. To reiterate, it's not bad. This film is perfectly functional, but nothing more. It is, unfortunately, an example of a chanbara period piece which fails to make a compelling commentary on the nature of society in feudal Japan or the conflict between bushido and the individual. The central conflict of ideas in this film sort of side steps these complicated ideas in favor of opposing ideologies which equally appeal to the altruistic nature of the classic samurai. I don't know why that is. It sort of raises the question of why this film was made to begin with. What's the point? The thematic nature of this film puts things at sort of a grade school level from a moral perspective. Again, it's confusing, because I have the suspicion that Miike doesn't really see the world in such juvenile terms. The technical skill coupled with the novice narrative is all together disappointing. It feels like there's a real lost opportunity in all this.

This is objectively a good film in execution, but it's a story which isn't really worth telling.

Searchers (2016)

Could someone tell me what exactly is so great about going on a cruise? What's with all the hype?

[5/10 · 30 May 2017]

While this film is undoubtedly nice to look at, I'm not sure it's worth sitting through an hour and a half of a thinly stretched plot to catch some of the lesser shots from an arctic documentary.

The idea of retelling the classic Ford film from the perspective of Inuit natives is a genuinely neat concept. It's basically the only reason I went to see Searchers. The problem is that this film doesn't really seem to understand what it is about its predecessor that made it so great (Beyond John Ford's skills as a director). The nuanced commentary on the relationship between the classic western and the American Indian is nonexistent here. The original story is stripped to its most basic elements, which reduces it to nothing more than a drawn out, slow speed, sled chase. It's really difficult to stay invested in the story after it gets going, because at a certain point you realize that there's only so much that can happen in a barren tundra whose sole inhabitants seem to be the on-screen characters and their frozen meat.

In all fairness, I think this film has value as a sort of pseudo- documentary. I'm sure people who love this film are inclined to go on endlessly about how authentic it is. I would have to agree, though it doesn't do all that much to help the film as a whole. There were a number of times where I thought "Oh that's cool, I didn't know Inuits did that." I can tell the director wants to do right by the subjects of his film. I appreciate the sentiment. The problem though, is that this film is not a documentary. It is meant to convey actual dramatic value, which it doesn't really pull off very well. We barely understand the characters and at a certain point I just had to accept that they're really more meant to act as a sort of abstraction of the Inuit people. That seems like a good way to approach the film as a whole. It's an abstraction. I don't know if that's what the director intended, but that's the best excuse I can come up with.

This film isn't terrible. It is genuinely beautiful with some cinematography which I actually think really complimented the sort of desert setting we're observing. There are also homages to The Searchers which I feel are executed fairly well from a visual stand point (Again though, the homage is sort of undercut by a sort of misunderstanding of the source material). If you're a fan of the original western or are interested in learning a little bit about the Inuit people then I might recommend this film. Honestly though, what I would rather recommend is that you either just go back and watch the original Ford film again or a comprehensive documentary on the Inuit people.

For everyone else, I wouldn't bother.

Heal the Living (2016)

Isn't it crazy that serfs didn't surf?

[7/10 · 25 May 2017]

For as beautiful and sincere as this film is, it's honestly a little frustrating.

There isn't really anything to complain about concerning the presentation of the film. It looks very good, with the visual nature of certain scenes creating a sort of dream like state, which is fitting considering the meditative nature of the story. The music is fine, though I don't think it's especially memorable except for maybe a couple of instances, one of those being the jarring opening track, which frankly does not fit the tone of the film nor does it compliment the musical accompaniment for the remainder of the run time. That's no biggie though. It's just one slip up in an otherwise competent score. Of course the acting's good. You should pretty much assume that'll be the case for all good film.

So if the presentation tends to range from pretty good to spellbinding, then where does the frustration come from? The issue that I have this film is that it's difficult to really say with any certainty what exactly is intentional in it. That issue applies to not only the presentation, but the story as a whole. This might be a problem with my perception, but what I found was happening repeatedly as I watched this film was that I had to stop and ask "Why is this happening?". I don't mean to say that events in the story didn't make sense, it' not that hard to follow. What I have to wonder is, why exactly did the director choose to put certain moments in the film? What is tying it all together? The thing with meditative films, which I have no fundamental problem with, is that the lack of urgency should be supplanted with clear theme and motive from a story telling perspective. The sequence of events in a film don't all have to connect to each other via the plot, but rather via the theme.

This shouldn't come as a surprise, but I really struggled to come up with a clear thesis for how all the scenes in this film really complimented each other. The film clearly wants to be a commentary on life and death. The problem is that every film is about life and death, so that isn't really good enough for tackling this film. Too bad I can't really get any more specific without sort of just guessing at it with little confidence. The best answer I can come up with is that this film is trying to say that you can't fully appreciate life without accepting the reality of death. That doesn't sound too bad, and maybe it fits. Ultimately though, I can't formulate an answer that brings all the disparate elements of this film together in a cohesive way.

One final note which might add clarity to my lack of confidence in the direction of this film whose individual scenes are all wonderful works of art, is in the ending of this film. Naturally I'm not going into the specifics of the plot, but I should say that there is a moment in the latter half of the third act which seems to betray the spirit of the film as a meditative piece on the relationship between life and death. For the most part, this film lacks any real sense of urgency or legitimate conflict. I think that's totally acceptable in this instance, however, it is not consistent. The final sequence in this film tries to create a sort of false sense of tension which not only contradicts the rest of the presentation of the film, but which is not even believable in and of itself. There was never any point in this film where I was especially surprised by the sequence of events or felt that there was any real peril. So when the director tries to suggest it in order to satisfy a formula which doesn't even fit the type of film she's making, it sort of calls into question what else in the film was actually meant to fit in the way that I perceived.

This film is beautiful. I like it a lot, and if you haven't seen it yet then I would recommend it. Despite what I feel are some disingenuous moments, this film is born out of sincere intention and presents its subject matter with a clear mind towards honesty and integrity. Maybe after I watch it a second time I'll like it even better. Who knows.

My Dinner with Andre (1981)

If the moon landing is fake, then how is Buzz Aldrin real?

[8/10 · 14 May 2017]

I'm not aware that there is another film quite like My Dinner with Andre, and it's seems to me that there will probably never be another like it. Regardless of how successful you think this film is, I think you have to admire the ambition of it. In a conventional sense, this film is basically one hour and a half long scene. It is as the title suggests. It is a feature length dinner conversation. Of course, if you haven't seen the film you would probably scoff at the mere prospect of it. How are you supposed to film nearly two hours of a single conversation had between two guys out to dinner? What are you supposed to do with the camera? When considering this, I have the utmost respect for Louis Malle. He understood that the film was not in the film making, but in the content. There is nothing flashy about this film. What you imagine is likely what you will receive. You simply watch a conversation take place over dinner.

So, naturally the notion of a film which lacks any sort of special film making execution is likely going to make some people apprehensive. That's understandable. The reason I wanted to highlight the minimalist approach to the direction of this film is to illustrate just how excellently it is written. This is perhaps one of the most sincerely written films I have ever seen. The dialogue here is not just a lengthy exchange of quips and thinly veiled conniving, nor is it a load of pretentious philosophy and celebration of the human intellect. It is simply two people talking to each other honestly about their lives. The key term here being 'honest'. I think that if you were to try to separate definitively the good films from the bad ones, a good way to go about it would be to examine which ones are truly honest. Specifically, which ones are honest about the human experience. In this way, My Dinner with Andre becomes a great film. I believe every word that these characters are saying. The experiences they relate are real, and that they have affected them profoundly. In a way, it's almost frightening. The dialogue of this film, which is really the film in its entirety, is born out of such a universal human truth that it inevitably speaks to the heart of all that will watch it.

I will be fair. Like I said before, this is a very minimalist film. If you come for a grandiose and masterful execution of the visual medium, then you will likely be disappointed. I'm not saying this film is directed poorly. The decisions made with concern for the final product were the correct ones. In order for this film to respect the spirit of honesty which the writing embodies, it had to surrender itself to its concept. As admirable as it is, I do understand that this film is almost too ambitious (though some would say not ambitious enough). Film is fundamentally a visual medium, and while I think the performances on screen justify the use of film, I do concede that a film which is just dialogue contradicts the nature of film making itself. This is the pinnacle of writing, but it is not the pinnacle of the art of the motion picture. Regardless, I would sincerely encourage that you watch this film if you haven't, because there's a good chance you'll love it.

Mifune: The Last Samurai (2015)

Caramel M&Ms are alright, but I prefer peanut butter honestly.

[6/10 · 6 May 2017]

I'm sure I'm not the only one who was wondering why it is they couldn't get a hold of Tatsuya Nakadai.

I feel that the approach they took with this documentary was a bit limiting. Given that "Samurai" is in the title it should come as no surprise that they, for the most part, really only talk about Mifune's roles as samurai in film. In a way it's both a documentary on Mifune and the chanbara genre as a whole. This is sort of a double edged sword for me. While I think it's valuable to provide background on the genre that Mifune is most famous for and which he in turn made popular outside of Japan, in the end it feels like you're sort of getting an incomplete picture of both him and the genre. The history lesson on the chanbara genre basically concludes with the introduction of Mifune and the history lesson on Mifune is more or less confined to his work in the chanbara genre.

All things considered, for as much as I like this documentary and am a fan of what it features, I sort of wish it were two separate documentaries. One which covers chanbara, or perhaps just jidaigeki as a whole, and one which covers Mifune a bit more comprehensively. That might be a bit more satisfying as a whole. I'm sure any fan of Mifune could understand what I'm getting at. For anyone who wants to see a documentary on Mifune, there's going to be frustration that roles like he had in 'The Bad Sleep Well', 'High and Low' and 'I Live in Fear' are basically ignored. Likewise, any fan of the chanbara genre is undoubtedly going to feel a but cheated that Tatsuya Nakadai is never referred to at all, and that the history feels incomplete.

I appreciate what this documentary is trying to do, and if you're a fan of Mifune, I would certainly recommend it. It could have been better though.

Spotlight (I) (2015)

I miss the Ottoman Empire.

[6/10 · 29 April 2017]

So, this film raises a good question: should the genre of a film be taken into account when considering the overall quality?

I understand that for the horror genre, it's generally well accepted that dumb characters and logic gaps are par for the course. The reason being that most people don't take horror too seriously, especially in the mainstream market. So with that in mind, does this film cement the standard for the "journalism" genre as one which requires no real direction or anything even remotely exceptional on a visual level? The blocking, cinematography, and art direction feel just flat out lazy and uninspired. All the scenes are constructed as though it were a Star Wars prequel. Just have a couple of characters stand around and talk to each other, and to spice it up we'll have them walk to a different part of the office. No effort is made to arrange the characters or the camera in a creative way which makes any scene distinguishable from the others.

So of course a natural counter to these complaints would be that the film is portraying the story with the realism it requires. The idea is that it's showing the journalists doing their jobs without exaggeration or sensationalist elements. It should be as it actually happened. May I ask though, in what way the plot would be seriously altered by creative cinematography or having the characters do something interesting while they're having dialogue? The lines don't have to change. The sequence of events don't have to change. The screenplay doesn't even really have to change. The director simply has to put in the effort to make it look even just a little bit interesting. Why not have a scene where one of the characters is putting together a jigsaw puzzle while the other is pacing around the room try to solve their own mental puzzle? I know that example is kind of dumb but it's a simple change that I think would make just about any scene in this film more interesting. Of course if it's shot in the same flat style as the rest of it then there wouldn't be much of a difference.

I want to clarify that I don't think this film is bad. It's just not really exceptional. If you like it then that's fine. There are things to like about it. The point I'm trying to make is that this is a film and not a radio drama. It takes more then having your actors stand there, having them recite some logistical dialogue, and call it good. Just because this film is about journalism doesn't mean that it just has to be people talking and nothing else. If you don't want to tarnish this story with the utilization of film making techniques then maybe you shouldn't bother with adapting it to begin with. Since this story was adapted into film however, I am going to consider it the same way I would consider any other film. As such it is not very good. It's okay. That's it. There is no excuse for mediocrity in film, whatever the story. Spotlight doesn't get a free pass because it's about reporters.

Wouldn't really recommend it.

Mirror (1975)

Is there room for another head on Mount Rushmore or is that out of the question?

[9/10 · 27 April 2017]

It's actually sort of amazing to me that this film is only an hour and forty seven minutes. After watching it I felt like I had witnessed a four hour long saga detailing the history of a great many people and years. I don't mean to imply that the film dragged on or was overburdened with with frivolous details. What I'm trying to convey is that there is a lot to digest after witnessing this work of art.

This film has a sort of contradictory nature. On one hand, it has a very particular perceptive, that of a man reflecting on his past. On the other hand, it speaks to the Russian experience, and, I suspect, the experience of mankind as it pertains to the modern age. Clearly much is said about the past and how it affects the experience of the present, as well as the nature of reflection and hindsight. The true scope of this film however, is difficult to determine with certainty. After all, as with all film, the viewer must endeavor to connect all the disparate pieces of the work in order to understand its true meaning. Of course that is where things become especially difficult with The Mirror. How does one reconcile the deeply personal experience of a man's relationship with his mother as a child with the trials of the Russian people during the 20th century? Beats me.

I understand how someone could become frustrated in reading this review. It almost seems as though I'm cautioning people from watching this film given the challenge of it. That challenge of course, being the question of this film's meaning and the mission of uncovering it. Why would any audience want to waste their time with a challenge like that given the possibility of failure in this instance? That's a fair question I suppose. The answer of course is that this film is beautiful in a way that only a work of Tarkovsky's is. It has an ethereal quality which is difficult to appreciate fully without witnessing it. This film at once captures both the serene aspects of the natural world and the cruel nihilism of the human experience without putting either at odds with the other. As pretentious as that may sound, it is frankly the best way I can describe what I think makes this film, and other's by the director, unique and worth experiencing (For those concerned, so far as the obligatory review checklist of directing, cinematography, score, acting, etc is concerned, it's all fantastic).

The main take away from this review, I hope, is that you understand that it's okay to not have all the answers to this film after watching it the first time. For my part, I'm very excited at the prospect of what I may discover in repeated viewings. If you approach this film with patience and an open mind, you will be greatly rewarded.

Check it out. It's bananas.

Dog Day Afternoon (1975)

Was Dunkaccino Sidney Lumet's idea?

[8/10 · 25 April 2017]

I've seen it said frequently about this film that it is a commentary on the nature of media and sensationalism, and how those things can warp the perception of certain events and people. This is a fair analysis, but what I think is perhaps more significant to me, though perhaps not as clever, is that this film is a careful study of how different people react to a crisis. Of course, these things are not mutually exclusive. The media certainly acts as a major force of change both in the nature of the story and in the characters.

I think though, that the idea that this film is just about how the media affects people is insufficient. How then is the viewer meant to understand the scenes which altogether lack any media presence? In the quieter moments of this film, when the cameras have gone away and the crowd is silent, the heart of this film reveals itself. It is about people reacting to crisis. Not just the crisis of a robbery gone wrong, but personal crisis. What drives characters in the film is not how they think the cameras will perceive them (not saying that part is not also essential in appreciating this film). The protagonist, masterfully performed by Al Pacino, is not motivated by it. He's motivated by the tumultuous nature of his life which has led him to this point, and the desperation it has instilled in him. The police too, are not driven by cameras and crowds, they simply measure their actions differently. Media changes the dynamics, but it doesn't change reality. The reality is that people are brought together by a tense situation and are defined by how they compose themselves when the pressure's on.

The best example of this theme in action within the characters is in the transition of police leadership of the stand-off from Moretti to Sheldon. I found watching this film that when Sheldon confronts Sonny for the first time, I could tell it was the beginning of the end. It isn't just that Sheldon represents a more formidable branch of law enforcement, but that he conducts himself in a more powerful way. He's cool and collected. Up to this point in the film you sort of get the sense that Sonny and Morreti are approaching the situation with pretty similar attitudes. They're both struggling to maintain their composure and they're seemingly blindsided by the fiasco that is the hostage situation. Sheldon is not blindsided. They're isn't a trace of doubt or fear in him. He has it all under control, which means that Sonny has lost all power. Watching his interactions with Sheldon I just knew that it was already over. How could a mere victim of circumstance best what is obviously a master of fate and will?

The direction of this film is also demonstrative of this theme. You might notice, especially if you've seen a Lumet film before, that the use of music in this film is very limited. This strikes me as being very deliberate both stylistically and dramatically. After all, wouldn't it make more sense to play up the sensational nature of the story by adding a melodramatic score to punctuate every little interaction? That would be very meta. What this selective choice of music suggests, to me at least, is that reality is distinct from the media circus. It surrounds the characters, it influences their behavior to a certain extent, but ultimately it isn't the reality they occupy. They are still trapped in their circumstances, and no amount of cheering, jeering, or filming can change that. All that's left for them is to decide how to handle their crises. That also explains the nature of the cinematography, which also seems a bit restrictive at times. There's little movement and the often the camera is sort of just set at eye level. Nothing too crazy. The effect of this is that you find yourself, as the viewer, just as trapped as the characters you're observing. You don't get to have a dozen montages and swoop over the roof as the police plot their infiltration because that isn't something any of the characters can do.

This film respects the barrier between crisis and coverage. It endeavors to thrust its characters into a disaster and ask you to consider how they're reacting. The commentary it makes on the media is valid, and should be considered carefully, but in doing so don't forget what's happening when the cameras are away.

Cronos (1992)

Kind of like Dracula and Frankenstein put together but not really

[7/10 · 29 March 2017]

There is a lot to admire about this film. All things considered though, it just feels somewhat incomplete.

So this film is technically a horror. Naturally then the first question when one reflects on it would be whether or not it's scary (A question which is of course marred by the fact that fear is mostly subjective). I am no fan of horror, due primarily to the fact that I get spooked pretty easily. That being said, while this film might make some squirm with discomfort at the gruesome imagery, this film feels like it lands in the genre of horror more by default than by its own merits. If I were to judge this film purely on its ambition to frighten people then I don't think I'd really be able to heap much praise on it. I suppose I can only speak for myself, but given that I can't say I really experienced what I would consider fear, I doubt sincerely that people watching this film with the intention of getting spooked are going to feel very fulfilled.

All of those things in mind though, this is still a pretty decent film. It's clear that Guillermo del Toro had a strong vision for this film, and it gives the imagery a special quality. From the titular Cronos devise to the sterile room decorated with dangling arc angel statues, this film holds a lot of interest on the unique visuals alone. I don't know how much fear or dread he was trying to inspire with those images, but they certainly elicit a sense of curiosity and bizarreness which I think makes this film unique.

In a lot of ways this film feels like more of a mystery than a horror to me. Early on in the viewing whatever concern I had for potential horrors was replaced with a burning curiosity to know just what else del Toro's imagination could conjure up. In that way I found I could truly enjoy the film for what it was. I will say though, that I did find myself a bit disappointed by the end. Not because it wasn't scary enough or that something had necessarily gone wrong, but because by the time it reached its conclusion it felt as though the story hadn't reached its full potential. It didn't end prematurely. I do think though, that del Toro hints at a boundless imagination and I had just hoped that by the end he would've shared more of it.

Give it a shot. It's got Ron Pearlman.

I'm a Cyborg, But That's OK (2006)

I'm starting to think Rotten Tomatoes is not really the best metric for determining the quality of film.

[9/10 · 28 March 2017]

It's wonderful in pretty much every way.

I think with this film, Chan-wook Park explores his full potential in the realm of levity. To me it feels like a near polar opposite to Oldboy, the director's most famous and beloved film, in its tone. There is such a bouncy and unbridled energy to it, especially in the first half, which strikes me as a far cry from the moodier and more contemplative moments in Oldboy. Watching this film however, it didn't take long to feel that Park channeled the same directing expertise into it which made films like Oldboy and The Handmaiden such masterpieces.

For starters, the execution of this film is absolutely mesmerizing. Like his other films, Park's camera seems to adopt more of a role as a spectator than as a mere tool for framing the story. The simpler way of putting it is that it's a sort of fly-on-the-wall feel. The camera glides around scenes effortlessly and takes on a life of its own, like a ghost which haunts the very space of the film. That space by the way, is given the same dream like quality as its peers, with exaggerated saturated colors and lighting which gives the settings a sense of being more fantasy than reality.

Of course it's only too fitting that this film should look like a fantasy, because in many ways that is the nature of the story. Because the story centers on a cast of characters which are nearly all delusional, the way that the audience perceives the reality of the film is a reflection of that delusion. What we witness is the experience of these characters, so when they take flight, reduce in size, fire bullets out of their finger tips, and so on, while we understand that it's merely a fantasy, we also understand that for the people in the film it is very much a reality.

That I think is ultimately the purpose of this film. While it is ostensibly a quirky comedy about a bunch of crazy people and their wacky adventures, at its core its an empathetic look at delusional people. The juxtaposition of the way the doctors of the mental institution relate to them and the way they relate to each other I think demonstrates the lessons that the film wishes to impart onto its audience. You can't expect to understand the people around you, healthy or sick, if you're not willing to put yourself in their shoes and experience the world in the way that they experience it.

Check it out. It's nice.

Logan (2017)

There is maybe one too many robot arms in this movie.

[7/10 · 27 March 2017]

I feel obligated to mention that I have seen all the other movies featuring Hugh Jackman. I don't really like any of them especially. Some are decent and others are sort of bad and forgettable. The context and history surrounding it are apparent to me, though they don't do too much to influence my feelings on this particular film.

All that being said, this film is probably the best I've seen featuring this portrayal of this character. It's legitimately pretty good. Some of what some people would say makes it exceptional though I think is sort of relative. The fact that it has a stronger emotional core and more adult story than its predecessors doesn't mean that on its own its a great film. It's certainly refreshing considering the franchise as a whole, but only really from a story perspective. In its execution I can't say that beyond the especially violent action, which is pretty neat, it really goes above and beyond in any major way. Despite one memorable shot, the visual nature of the film doesn't really feel like it represents a unique voice. I have never seen a film from James Mangold before, besides The Wolverine, and I honestly don't think I could make much of an educated guess on what any of his other films are like based on this one. In all honesty it seems like he did a lot more for this film as a writer than as a director. That isn't to say that the direction is bad or that the story is amazing, but relative to the rest of the franchise one did a lot more to elevate this film than the other.

Like I say, the story isn't amazing. It's good, and it helps this film to stand on its own, but there are definitely some logical lapses (How did he not see those cars earlier, how does she know how to use that gun, etc). I will say though, to Mangold's credit as both a writer and director, there were parts of this film that, while cheesy, could have been way cheesier and potentially ruined the film. It is solid on its own, but I would concede that, despite not really liking the franchise all that much, this story inevitably holds a greater emotional value for you if your a long time fan of this character and of these movies.

It's got something for everyone. Check it out or don't. You'll probably get out of it what you expect, and what more could you ask for?

The Assassin (2015)

I'm going to assassinate my appetite with this burger.

[7/10 · 23 March 2017]

Honestly I wasn't sure how to feel about this film after seeing it.

It looks absolutely gorgeous. The cinematography and production design are really top notch. If I were to judge the merits of this film based purely on its visuals, then I think I'd give it something closer to a 9 or 10. The visuals also comprise some of the best parts of the story telling. Occasionally the film will present an image without context, only to later have the meaning of that image revealed by a character in whatever dialogue driven scene will directly follow that image. It's pretty neat and adds an nice component to the visual splendor beyond simply the surface level appeal.

This element of the visual element of the film though, does hint at what is probably this film's greatest weakness. In the same way that one can become really confused when viewing some of the key images without their meaning revealed until after their presentation, the story of the film as a whole is potentially incomprehensible. I don't think it's because it's necessarily too complicated either. It seems more like the director had no patience for conveying information to the audience. There are key pieces of exposition early on which are never referenced again and that you could easily miss if you aren't laser focused from minute one. This is a problem throughout the film and it's not even limited to expository dialogue. There is one scene in particular when two characters are having what I assume was a deadly showdown. Again, visually very nice. The problem though, was that I couldn't tell who one of the character's was, if they had been mentioned/featured in the film previously, or why the fight was even really happening to begin with.

It's honestly really frustrating, because this film seems to squander so much of the potential I see in the visual elements for reasons that I can't understand. The incomprehensible nature of the story is frankly needless, and I think it severely limits the amount of people who can truly enjoy it. I like a lot of it, and I might watch it again in the future. I think before I recommend it though, I should preface that recommendation by saying that you can't let your attention falter for even a moment, lest you lose track of the narrative completely.

12 Angry Men (1957)

Listening to those tummies growl makes me think they ought to be called 12 Hungry Men.

[9/10 · 2 March 2017]

This is a pretty good example of why execution will always matter more than any kind of extravagant production or over inflated budget. Anyone even remotely familiar with this film understands that it's just 12 guys in a room arguing over a trial. It's a concept so simple on a visual level that it could just as easily be a middle school stage production and you could probably still find much of the iconography which comprises the setting. Again though, none of that takes away from this film.

To begin with, this film couldn't have been shot better. Sidney Lumet's background in television allows him to take full advantage of shifting lenses and ensemble shots which give the film an escalating sense of tension that in indispensable in convincing the audience that the dialogue happening between these men is A) taking them a long time and B) is physically, mentally and emotionally taxing for them. It's pretty easy to imagine a more amateur director shooting this film in a more flat and repetitive way. Thankfully Lumet isn't an amateur. Every shot and cut is so purposeful in this film. Not a frame is wasted and the one room setting at no point becomes tiresome.

This film really reaches it's greatest heights with it's characters, despite how wonderful the visual narrative is. All 12 men are unique characters. None of them fades in to the background and they all bring a unique perspective to the case in question. You get a really good sense of the lives they lead outside the confines of this room they're in. At a certain point you get to have such a good understanding of the different men that whenever a knew point of debate is brought up you can start to piece together how each one of them is going to process it and how it might affect their ultimate decision on the case. It's really a bit of a difficult balancing act. In the end there are certain members of the jury which naturally have to take a more dominant role in the story than the others, but at the same time you have to allot the others time to bring depth to their character. Lumet and the actors put it all together flawlessly.

One you thing you might notice when watching this film is the general lack of music. I think ultimately it's better that way. In all likelihood music would have been more of a distraction than a tool in enhancing the tone of a given scene. There is music of course, but the reservation with which it is used ends up giving it more relevance to the story than if it book-ended every scene in the film. This film is in the dialogue and character interaction, and really there isn't enough room for any kind of over the top score, but again, that doesn't detract from the experience in any way.

Check it out if you haven't. It's great. 9/10.

Southern Comfort (1981)

Do you think Walter Hill is friends with Walter Mondale?

[6/10 · 22 February 2017]

Probably the greatest strength of this film is its characters. While they can sometimes be a bit one note, the interaction of the different personalities I would say is the driving force of the film. While a couple of the guys in the main group are a little underwritten, they are at least easy to understand in their motivations and relationships with each other. I think that if this film had put too much focus on what can be considered to be the main character then the weakness of the character writing would have become a much greater issue. It's actually very enjoyable to see the difficult situation presented in the film debated by the different personalities of the main squad. I would say though, that if you find that you don't care much for the way the core cast performs, then there's not much left to really make you like this film.

The visual style of this film is very hit or miss. Frankly the first five minutes or so of screen time does not make a strong impression. If anything it's a bit of a turn off. The film actually feels like a bit of a directionless void until the main cast is finally assembled and the mission is underway. After that the visuals improve to a pretty noticeable degree. The way the scenery, composed nearly entirely of swamp, is shot can sometimes give it an otherworldly feel. At a certain point it feels like the characters are drudging through a complete hellscape, driving home the feeling of desperation felt by the main squad. Of course there are still some visual hurdles which are a bit jarring. The presence of a couple of freeze frames and a bizarre faded in double image sort of undercut the tone of the scenes they're in. So in that way the flubs sort of balance out the nicer shots to make a film that's a bit visually muddled.

So far as the story is concerned, it's typical military fair. It becomes obvious at a certain point the visual and narrative parallels to Vietnam war films. It's admittedly a clever way to retell a familiar sort of story, though there isn't much else which really elevates the narrative beyond the clichés of its contemporaries. Beyond that there are some logical issues with the way some of the traps, deadly obstructions of the squad, are actually executed. You'll know it when you see it.

Overall, it's alright. Check it out if you think you might like it.

Death Proof (2007)

Kurt Russell? They should call him Cute Russell.

[8/10 · 17 February 2017]

Death Proof feels like a distillation of the things which make make Quentin Tarantino exceptional as a director.

This film is wonderful, but it's almost contradictory in nature in that there isn't necessarily a narrative drive in the conventional sense. The premise and thriller tone might lead one to believe that this film will be a heart pounding thrill ride, but I think that if you walk into it with that sort of expectation you might find at a certain point that you've become a bit confused or frustrated. You might be pleasantly surprised. I was. Probably though, it would serve your experience better to understand clearly what you're getting into.

One of, if not the, greatest strengths of Tarantino as a writer is his mastery of dialogue. It is perhaps the most engrossing aspects of his film making and I've yet to see a film of his that wasn't absolutely exceptional in this aspect. That's very fortunate for any viewer of this film, because the speaking to action ratio is pretty high. Easily well over an hour of this film is the simplest kind of scene, which is people talking. Talking in a bar, talking in a car, talking outside. There is no shortage of talking in this film. If you aren't a fan of the way Tarantino writes conversation then this film will be an absolute nightmare for you. For everyone else, myself included, you'll find a wonderful energy and flow to this film which drives it in a way that nonstop action and excitement really can't.

There is action though. This film doesn't lack a sense of urgency in its entirety. The more conventional thriller aspects are executed very well, with the sort of recurring winks to the audience which is integral to the nature of a grindhouse send up such as this. The reservation in use of action actually gives the more adrenaline-fueled segments a nice sort of pay off after an arguably excessive amount of build up. If you find that you can't get into the conversational portion of this film, I somewhat doubt that you'll find it worthwhile to sit through it for what remains.

I think the simplest way to sum up Death Proof is that it's just watchable. I of course don't mean that in a derogatory sense. It just has such a feeling of effortlessness in how it flows for nearly two hours on almost nothing but people sort of just hanging out and shooting the breeze. It's may not be a conventional thriller, but really, that's what makes it so great.

Bandits vs. Samurai Squadron (1978)

Best way to watch is on Hideo Video.

[7/10 · 12 February 2017]

It's good, not great.

Visually this film is very strong. The framing and composition of mostly every shot is pleasing to the eye and elevates the scene it captures. The choreography of the action is generally pretty great, though there are a few moments where I had to wonder why it was that everyone with a sword felt obligated to attack one at a time no matter what. This is an issue with a lot films in the action genre, but it seems that every chanbara film I've ever seen, which is a fair amount, has this problem. Maybe there's something about group sword fighting I'm not aware of. Who knows. The issues with the choreography are few and far between though and overall this film is an absolute joy to look at.

The presentation becomes a bit more questionable when it comes to the sound of the film. The noises that the swords make when they clash into one another during some, or most, of the fighting is a bit exaggerated to the point of being a touch goofy. I don't I was personally bothered by it that much and I even found enjoyment in how over the top it was, but I could see people becoming very irritated with the sounds of the sword strikes. The soundtrack itself is also potentially hazardous. Rather than create a score which evokes the early eighteenth century setting, the soundtrack feels like it was created for a cops and robbers thriller. I get the impression that is intentional. The film is meant to be a sort of gangster flick set in feudal Japan, juxtaposing the modern story elements with a period setting. That's all well and good, but it might have been better to go with a score that fit the setting rather than a modern sound which was doomed to date the film in a way the samurai swordplay never could.

The story itself is good generally. It does run into the potential issue of a gang of vaguely defined characters who all sort of dress and act the same with a few exceptions. Besides the core group of main characters I sometimes had a difficult time keeping track of who was who and what they were after. That being said, Tatsuya Nakadai brings a lot to the table and the film is well acted despite some weakness in the character writing. The story gets a little muddled around the third act when the motivations of certain characters become a bit more difficult to decipher, but the action keeps the stakes clear on a more scene by scene basis.

If you like the genre then there's a good chance you'll like the film. If, like myself, you're a big fan of Tatsuya Nakadai then I would definitely recommend it. So far as Gosha is concerned, this is the first film I've seen from him but it makes me curious about his other work. Finally, and I probably don't need to say this at this point, it's a bit long, and it's debatable whether or not it really has to be. Still good though.

The Tree of Life (2011)

Brad Pitt has nice hair.

[7/10 · 24 January 2017]

The Tree of Life, though loftier perhaps in ambition, is fairly simple from a plot perspective. The majority of the film is simply about the childhood of a boy in the fifties and how he comes to understand life in the same way that many boys his age do. That is simple enough on its own and there have been a number of films which have covered that ground already. There are elements of the story however, which are less relevant to the journey of the character and which speak more to the concept of life and the flow of life in the universe. If I am being entirely honest, while I had a genuine emotional connection to the story of the protagonist and found the film mostly engrossing, there are aspects to the story which, in my opinion, likely require an additional viewing before everything really comes together. The visual narrative of the film does not feel quite seamless and certain things shown seemed much less relevant than others. I do not want to create any misunderstanding. The film is enchanting and executed with great talent and I think it is very good, even great. Personally though, I would be hard pressed to call it a masterpiece, though there are things which are done masterfully.

To speak of things being done masterfully, the one aspect of the film that came across to me as being the most consistently mesmerizing was the cinematography. I was not surprised to learn after watching the film that Emmanuel Lubezki was in fact the director of photography. The film does showcase the aspects of his style which have become more recognizable the more of his work that I see. The result of Lubezki's work here is distinctive. The free floating camera seems to be less so working in tandem with meticulous directing as it might on an Iñarritu film, than it is searching to create meaning on its own. The way the camera drifts through scenes almost makes it into its own character. It seems to be trying, like the audience, to find meaning and information in the story. This method of almost improvisational cinematography is well complimented by the episodic nature of the story. After the camera finally settles on something meaningful in one scene, it begins to fly through the next scene struggling for purpose in this new environment.

As far as purpose is concerned, what is the purpose of the film? What is it connecting to? Whatever one might say about the statements the film makes on the course of life and the universe, and one could say a lot, I find the most meaning in the concept of growing up, and understanding what it means to be an adult and a person in general. For much of his childhood, Jack seems to struggle to make sense of the world around him, and the motivations behind the actions of people and God. What I take away from the film is that children, like adults, are people with an awareness of the world and a desire for understanding. The damage that can be done by misinforming and confusing children is serious and can have dire consequences. Jack's father is strict and demanding with his sons because he understands the unfairness of life and his decision making is informed by experience.

The problem lies in the fact that his sons don't know that, at least initially. They are confused and frustrated by the fact that they should address people in certain ways and tend to their chores in a precise manner. They don't fully understand why their father is constantly in a state of irritation, and it must seem like a dizzying contradiction that he proclaims his love and affection for them, and then turns around and punishes and criticizes them for things they don't understand the significance of.

While I'm sure the film is not meant as a teaching tool for parents, there is still something to be learned from The Tree of Life. Children won't be content or happy with aspects of their life which seem unfair explained away by etiquette, principal and religion. Children want to understand things in a practical sense, not in a higher moral sense which can seem, and sometimes in reality be, completely arbitrary.

A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night (2014)

What do you call an old vampire? Grampire!

[6/10 · 24 January 2017]

I think that this film is a good reminder that in many ways story takes precedence over visuals as far as engaging with the audience is concerned. The visuals of A Girl Walks Home At Night ranged between good and enchanting. There isn't any reason that the aesthetic of the film should prevent anyone from enjoying it. For the most part the presentation of the film is great and makes it unique and gives the sense of exploring a setting totally distinct from others portrayed in the medium. If the film only had a stronger narrative drive then it could utilized a lot of what I feel is untapped potential. At a certain point scenes start to feel loosely connected and I started to wonder where the story was going and what any of the characters were really hoping to accomplish by the end. Maybe it's my own fault, but somehow, somewhere during the viewing, I lost interest in what was happening or what potentially might happen.

While it isn't really clear to me what the director's intended statement is in the film it's difficult to imagine that identity doesn't play into the overall theme. The impression I took from the film is that what defines people is not how they envision themselves, but rather how they appear to others and the effect that they have on their lives. A good example of this would be Saeed. When we see Saeed with Arash and his father, he is large and centered in frame. In that scene Saeed is portrayed as a tyrant with complete power over those around him. When we see him with Atti he is a coward shut in his car, fidgety and more short tempered. In his last scene with the vampire, he gyrates and debases himself before screaming in panic and agony. In this final instance he is a dumb pervert. What the film may also be trying to get across is that whatever value we wish we had, others find in us. Arash wants to be seen as cool by the people around him, but only finds that the vampire sees personal worth in him and draws him to her as a result. The vampire likewise is off putting to others and sees herself as a monster, by her own admission she's done bad things. It's only when Arash finds comfort in her companionship that she is able to realize that value in herself.

One aspect of the film that I think serves to emphasize its themes is the costumes. I would argue that the most important costume in the film is that of the vampire's. I would also argue that this costume is made much more effective by the decision for the film to be in black and white rather than color. The most obvious effect of the vampire wearing the hijab is that it gives her an air of mystery. With part of her head and much of her body being obscured it there is a sense of the unknown that is lacking when the vampire is in her room, dressed more casually. The darkness of the hijab working in tandem with the low lighting and lack of color greatly emphasizes this mystery and brings with it a sense of terror. Often the vampire appears like a specter as she almost drifts down the sidewalk stalking her prey. This effect is also a nice contrast to the more open outfit worn in scenes shared with Arash inside her room. To speak of Arash, his costume also reveals things about his character, though I would say in a more meta fashion. Frankly I could not help but be reminded of James Dean or Marlon Brando when by the end Arash is clad in a tiny white T-shirt and leather jacket. While those articles of clothing do not carry to much real significance on their own, the fact that they are reminiscent of well established rebel figures in film does a lot to express the general attitude of the character. The imagery allows us to project things onto the character which he might not make clear about himself.

I think the main thing I would like to take away from this film has much more to do with the narrative than with the characters or presentation. As I have already expressed, I feel that the film lacks narrative drive. Often I found that scenes would play back to back but they failed to feed into one another. I would not say that this goes for all of the film and the instances where the story does flow more organically makes me think that if the entire film were woven together in the same fashion. It's difficult to maintain interest in a story when you're constantly wondering where it's going or how anything is really connected beyond just having the same characters in different scenes. Another thing I would take away is to be very aware of the meta aspects of film which audiences are familiar with. I've already mentioned the costumes but what I would like to highlight is something in the film which I felt was perhaps the worst part of the presentation. The sounds that the vampire made when she actually feeds on and intimidates people I think are not only over the top but will be familiar to audiences. Honestly about a dozen movie monsters and wild animals went through my head the instant the vampire started growling and consuming people. I gather that those noises are meant to be scary but I wouldn't be surprised if I wasn't the only person whose enjoyment of the more supernatural scenes was greatly diminished by the completely uninspired part of the film. Overall though I would say that keeping in mind the film tropes that audiences are most familiar thing is very valuable when trying to realize a unique vision that you want taken seriously.

Fantastic Planet (1973)

Why are they blue?

[8/10 · 23 January 2017]

This film is bizarre. That is not a bad thing. I don't know that I've ever seen a science fiction film set on a world which feels so completely alien. There was never a point while I was watching Fantastic Planet where I felt, "Yeah, I think I've got the gist of it now." Laloux seems to take great pleasure in filling every frame of this film with some new strange creation. The titular Fantastic Planet revealed to the viewer is not some sort of parallel Earth whose only discernible difference from our own world is the presence of some blue fauna. The Fantastic Planet doesn't seem to be a place one could fathom ever existing in the universe. Of course that in no way impedes the story. It only really compliments it. The urgency and curiosity created by such a setting acts as a pretty strong hook to keep you watching. While you're completely invested in the plight of the characters, you will also find yourself constantly wondering what new weird creature might make itself known in the next scene. What higher compliment could there be for a science fiction animation?

To speak of the animation. It's wonderful stop motion that I could see turning some people off to this film. Admittedly, I found it totally jarring for the first couple of minutes. I found though that I got used to it after not very long, and it in no way kept me from totally being completely hypnotized. After having completed the film, I can't really imagine it any other way. It isn't smooth and graceful. Some times it can feel more like a subtly shifting painting rather than a traditional cartoon. Really though, it only makes sense for the story. It's not natural. It's off. So is the Fantastic Planet.

Jackie (V) (2016)

Starring Natalie Harborman! Sorry.

[8/10 · 14 January 2017]

Some films simply embody one emotional state that they explore for the duration of their run time. For Jackie, that emotional state is grief. What does grief look like? How does it change a someone? What does it reveal about who they are as a person? The dual function of this film is to both serve as a study of an emotion and the study of a character. That character of course being Jackie Kennedy.

Since it is a character study and a biopic, much of the quality of the film is dependent on Natalie Portman's performance. No need to worry though, she's excellent. She so completely becomes her character. There are so many quirks and nuances in her performance which compliment her scenes of heightened emotional state, that she completely subverts the sort of caricature typical of the genre.

This is only the second Pablo Larraín film I've seen, the first being No. Larraín clearly has a knack for biopics and the way he merges his own footage with original documentary material so seamlessly is an absolute joy to behold. The extra effort to include shots which mirrors film from the sixties does a lot to bridge the gap between rote history lesson of the Kennedy family and the reality of a suffering of a newly widowed mother.

As much praise as I would like to heap on Larraín, the execution isn't perfect. Some shots have a sort of shaky quality to them which is frankly annoying. I understand that in many ways this film is meant to resemble a documentary, and I wouldn't mind it if this sort of thing was only present in the older looking footage, but there are certain instances in which it feels totally inappropriate and purposeless. This sort of decision was a bit more appropriate for No, where the entirety of the film seems to be meant to resemble a documentary. For this type of narrative however, I think that it would have served the film better to be a bit more deliberate about when the camera is going to shake.

Honestly for the amount of space my grievances took up in this review, the issues I have are eclipsed by the accomplishments of this film. This film is methodical in its exploration of a character and what is perhaps the most difficult time in their lives. The raw emotion on display is heartbreaking and the performance is awe inspiring. If you like great acting, check it out. If you're some kind of Kennedy enthusiast, check it out. Mostly everyone should check it out.

Truth (I) (2015)

Daddy, please stop.

[4/10 · 4 January 2017]

This film is bad.

This film feels a lot like that year's Spotlight, only with a much worse script and less competent direction. So far as the acting is concerned, where to place the blame is a bit difficult. It just feels awkward sometimes. That awkwardness, though often due to clunky delivery, is largely derived from the dialogue. Vanderbilt doesn't seem to know how to write it. A lot of the double speak Cate Blanchett's character uses to address both her abusive past and her journalistic struggles is heavy handed and obvious. Nothing is subtle. Certain lines are clichéd to the point of being cartoonish ("don't you understand?").

While the dialogue and direction I feel pretty well explains middling performances from competent actors like Blanchett and Redford, sometimes actors are just bad. There's even a bad child actor. Not all children are bad at acting. Some are very good. They are like any other actor and should be judged on more or less the same standard as their adult counterparts. With that in mind, the child actor in Truth is still bad. Like his adult peers it isn't all his fault, some of his lines are just terrible. The bad adult acting suffers the same, though the flat delivery really doesn't help. Flatness is not the only problem though.

Like I alluded to with Blanchett's character's heavy handed double speak, Vanderbilt is not good with subtly. At one point he seems to doubt so much that his audience gets the point that he dedicates a three minute speech to a character basically laying out his political opinion just so we don't miss the point of his two hour movie. It's honestly a little surprising that an experienced screenwriter feels he has to resort to it.

It's not surprising that this is Vanderbilt's directorial debut. While the direction of the actors is generally not the best, most other aspects of the film just go to show his inexperience. There is visually nothing interesting. The cinematography is generally flat and the only variation in shots is how centered or balanced they are, which, given the somewhat stale office setting much of the film takes place in, isn't really that impressive. The lighting, color, and set design are all serviceable, nothing more. There didn't seem to be any thought to having the visuals of the film play any real role in telling the story (There is one shot which does show a power imbalance purely through the way a large number of characters are situated across the protagonist, demonstrating the odds being stacked against her, but honestly I wouldn't be surprised if this was coincidental given the pattern for the rest of the film).

Given that Vanderbilt has a lot more experience with screen writing than he does directing, it's not surprising that he felt comfortable using spoken word alone to tell this story, but then what's the point in making it into a film? The only other way to really enhance the story through the medium would be with its music. It's too bad then that the score is totally bland and forgettable and is really more working in the background than enhancing or transforming the emotional weight of a given scene.

When this film is not mediocre it is bad. It does almost nothing to utilize the medium of film and makes me question why Vanderbilt didn't just keep to the writing and leave the direction to someone more competent. Maybe if you have strong feelings on Bush you'll find yourself ignoring how bad it is. I think though, if you look at this thing objectively, you'll realize it wasn't worth your time.

The Hanging Tree (1959)

Did somebody say Gary Scooper? Nope. Just Gary Cooper.

[6/10 · 1 January 2017]

This film is pretty good, though I'm somewhat hard pressed to say that it distinguishes itself much from its peers. That's not to say that it isn't likable. It is. Though when I stack it against other films, and even just other Westerns, it's own distinctiveness fades in the shadow of its contemporaries.

Gary Cooper is good in it, frankly everybody is with Maria Schell being the notable standout. He is Gary Cooper though. With the only other film I've seen where he is the star being High Noon, it's difficult for me not to see that he doesn't really separate his characters with the way he performs them, with the same stern, serious demeanor, reluctant to show his softer side. I honestly think the character he plays so naturally is only as good as it's written. And while this one is played close to High Noon's, it is written to be different, and so the familiar nuances carry new and interesting meanings. So in the end, Gary Cooper's performance, while good, seems to owe more of its credit to the writer than to Gary Cooper.

Of course this isn't a one man show. All others present are good too. Like I said, Maria Schell is more so the standout than Cooper. She performs her role with a range of emotion and body language. As the film progresses her character grows, and her performance with it. Her's is a character that we understand fully, and who's personality and ambition is laid bare before us. Honestly, she can be a bit more relocatable than the protagonist at times. The story can feel like it is her's, not Coopers. That's not really a bad thing.

Beyond the two stars no one else really stands on their own, and are really the most interesting when playing off of Cooper or Schell. Piazza's Rune being the best example.

The reason for my putting so much emphasis on the performances without really getting into the other aspects of film-making is because there isn't much to talk about. It's kind of average. The cinematography, the score, the editing. It's average. That isn't to say it's bad. Beyond punches obviously not connecting when characters are fighting, and some confusing editing during a certain confrontation, you'll know which it is when you see it, everything is competent. Being competent is not the same as being exceptional however. So when I say that this film really doesn't distinguish itself that's mostly what I'm talking about. To Cooper's credit, if he and Schell weren't leading the charge on the acting front, this film might be a bit forgettable.

If you would allege that you're a fan of Westerns, you'll probably like this film. If you don't like Westerns than I honestly wouldn't recommend it. If you're somewhere in between, I would advise you check it out. It is a good film. It is worth watching.