Contact High

Guess who saw Juno for the first time this morning? You guessed right. And guess who didn't hate it nearly as much as he thought he would. I'm not going to go as far to say Juno is "good," but with such low expectations, it made for a much more pleasurable experience than, say, a routine dental check-up. Eric at Filmbo's Chick Magnet pointed out the deathly flaw of Juno (though I suppose I'm a bit more forgiving) in being that the adult characters (Jason Bateman, Jennifer Garner, JK Simmons, Allison Janney) are each extraordinarily more interesting people to watch than Juno herself. And if you can look past Juno's calculated quirkiness, there's morsels of good stuff around the fringes. However, about it's Oscar nominations, I don't understand why Hollywood must give accolades (in the Best Picture category) to the "lil' indie that could" every year. Juno and Little Miss Sunshine already took their love to the bank; they certainly didn't need the nod.

I've been looking through my list of 2007 films and given some strong consideration in placing Cristian Mungiu's 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days at the top of the revision. In some ways, it's No Country for Old Men, There Will Be Blood and The Bourne Ultimatum in one, without discrediting its own individual merits. I'm kind of stuck, because I feel this need to make a Top 10 list every year, but in a year as phenomenal as 2007, I could have made a top 30 and still been unsatisfied. New additions to the 10 list include Aaron Katz's sublime Quiet City (now available from Benten Films) and Craig Zobel's Great World of Sound (whose personal impact has caused it to move up on the list).

In other news, I'm suffering from Godard malaise. This sentiment will undoubtedly displease two of my most frequent readers (coughEricandEdcough), but Lionsgate's boxset of First Name: Carmen, Passion, Détective and Oh, Woe Is Me did nothing other than induce agitation from me. There's a self-importance in Passion that Godard exposed in Tout va bien about his dealings with the working class that just irks me. It's more than likely that I just "don't get" him, but alas, cross me off the list of fans.

On a shinier note, I have a new favorite film, at least one that deserves placement on my shortlist of personal favorites. Martin Donovan's Apartment Zero. Check that shit if you haven't already... and as a side note, I'd absolutely give Hart Bochner the business.

Oh, Walt Disney. At work, I got stuck watching two of the recent canon of Disney films (as in within the past fifteen years or so): Aladdin and Cars. Now, I'd seen both before, but with Aladdin, I was never old enough to look at it critically, and with Cars, I just hadn't realized what a terrible film it was. I never thought I'd hear myself saying this, but Robin Williams and... Larry the Cable Guy are really the only saving graces of the respective films (God, fucking shoot me now). With Aladdin, how could I have never noticed what duds of characters and love interests Aladdin and Jasmine are? Not only is Jasmine a precocious bitch, but she's criminally bland. Aladdin really only holds up today due to its memorable songs (though I'm not going to go as far to say "good," but don't tell me you can't think of at least three songs from that film) and, yes, Robin Williams. Cars, however, is the biggest embarrassment Pixar has ever released (much, much more so than the mediocre Bug's Life). It's not particularly funny nor visually striking. Hell, the idea alone sounded dull. It is, however, worth watching if only for the shitty country song that runs through the end credits which puts into cheesy song lyrics the entire premise of Cars. It'll save you the trouble of having to sit through it.

I'd also appreciate if a Russ Meyer fan could point me in the best direction for continuing with his films. I have yet to see a film of his that isn't Vixen!, Beyond the Valley of the Dolls or Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! (I love his use of punctuation) that is even worth the time I would spend watching it. Up! Megavixen and Supervixens are dreadful. Should I continue on or just not allow Meyer's good name to be spoiled with these lousy films?

Scratch my palms, there's blood on my hands

I suppose this could be filed under self-promotion, but I thought I'd share my goings-on as of lately. A few friends of mine and I have formed a project entitled The Fortnight Film Project, originally planned as a bi-monthly way to fuck around with a camera. Well, it's sort of growing into a larger project, hopefully with more people involved, and highly intricate storylines (well, at least, intersecting ones). It's still a work-in-progress as we work out our kinks (for example, the audio is terrible on both films... and we're only now making better efforts in setting up shots and framing and all that jazz). You can check out our first two shorts via the website above. My character will be making his grand entrance this coming weekend, so look for that in the next coming week following. Feedback is always appreciated, help always wanted.

In addition to all the filmmaking fun, I've gotten my hands on a surplus of films once painfully unavailable to me: the entire Russ Meyer collection, Abel Ferrara's Mary, Hal Hartley's Trust, and Destricted, to name a few. Expect thoughts on said films in the coming days.

Jew No

Good news! My computer has just made it back from a (two-week long) check up at the (not so) free clinic... and though she wasn't released with what I'd call a clean bill of health, I have her back. Hopefully this will mean that my posts will be a tad more frequent than they have been. Maybe I can share the nightmare I had about Diablo Cody or how a revisit of Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! jump started my fading interest in cinema as of lately. We'll save those tales for another time.

Martial Art-less

A couple of weeks ago, I sort of participated in the 48 Hour Film Project -- for those of you who don't know what that is, it's a contest in which groups of people have two days to write, shoot, edit, and score a short film of the chosen genre. Each group is selected a different genre (from musical to silent film to spy), and the group whose film I helped on, the Drunken Butterflies, were given "martial arts," which is, in my opinion, one of the more difficult (we had mockumentary last year). After the films screen, awards are given out, and the Drunken Butterflies (not surprisingly) only walked away with the Best Costume (the cinematographer Chris' brother Michael Drummund did an amazing job, so this was expected). I'm not bitching about this, as I wasn't terribly pleased with the film anyway. However, after the films are screened, the judges give "suggestions for next year," in which they stated, "maybe you should tone down the racism, sexism, homophobia, and violence." Um.....

That statement opens a flood of problems with what's wrong with cinema today. Firstly, have these judges ever seen a martial arts film? If they wanted toned down violence, I don't think the genre would exist. In a recreation of a genre picture (which on a broad level is terribly conflicting, but on a smaller, personal level for a filmmaker, a challenging to one's abilities), wouldn't the application of specific genre traits like sexism and racism be necessary? You wouldn't tell someone who was given a task of making a "blaxploitation" film to tone down the racism. Or for melodrama, to tone down the sexism. Secondly, the "suggestions" are simply a testament to our times. Apparently our way of dealing with pre-existing racism, sexism, homophobia is not simply to act like it doesn't exist, but to also soften it and surround it with fluffy pillows and rainbows (non-"homosexual" ones that is). There's a very specific line that should be drawn when regarding film. I'm going to stay away from the movie vs. film comparison and say that perhaps we should distinguish the difference between media and art. Perhaps sexism, homophobia, and racism shouldn't exist in our forms of media (though it still does), but such rules cannot be thrown onto the drawing table in regards to any sort of art form. You can blame Birth of a Nation for the fashion of the Ku Klux Klan, but you certainly must remember it was probably first successful feature-length narrative in American cinema and a brilliantly composed one at that. We can curse it on idealistic grounds, yet how can we say it's "bad" in regards to "art"? The picture above, from Sam Fuller's Shock Corridor, shows a black mental patient holding up a sign that would likely offend most "modern" folk out of context. The character went crazy after failing to meet the expectations of his racial brotherhood when he became the first black man to be allowed into a white college. As a defense mechanism, he has become the people who scorned him. If a film dealing with this sort of subject matter were made today (by someone likely less talented than Fuller), we'd be given a warm-hearted story of struggle and eventually overcoming the odds... hopefully starring Morgan Freeman. Instead, when Fuller directly calls upon the problem of racism, he's direct, and he doesn't candycoat this issue. I know you've been waiting for it, so here is opportunity number 867 for me to rip on Crash. Where Crash differs is in its blind solving of problems. Even though bad shit happens to our characters (Sandra Bullock falls down the stairs!!!), they all walk away with a powerful lesson about, yep, tolerance and understanding (probably peace and love, too).

Really, isn't one man's sexist another man's feminist? I've been sort of Russ Meyer-wild lately, so here's another opportunity to bring him up. On the DVD for Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, Roger Ebert briefly discusses Meyer's reputation. On the surface, his films are laced with uncommonly busty ladies. Yet, as Ebert states, in nearly every one of his films, women play the active roles, while men are often just in the background. Women also exert a sexuality, a carnality, that is usually correlated with masculinity. Though perhaps too flip-sided to be considered a successful depiction of feminist theory, it's a helluva lot more progressive than most directors working at the time. Sexism in cinema now exists in the same way racism does. It's still a problem (duh), but we're asked to accept easy answers to a problem that isn't simple.

I must say, the Drunken Butterflies' eight minute martial arts short, entitled Flute Master IV: Spirit of Doom, wasn't meant to combat, critique, or to perpetuate any of these topics (and, I don't know where the judges got that the film was homophobic in any way). It existed simply as an homage to the genre (a genre that perhaps the judges were not terribly familiar with), a genre whose main components consist of violence and sexism. We all know in the days of Kill Bill and Crouching Hero, Hidden Flying Daggers that women have had more active roles in the genre, but this too is a product of our time. Perhaps it's a reflection of the changing times... or perhaps it's an attempt at radicating sexism from the genre (or, if they're feeling really idealistic, society). In any case, thanks for the suggestions for next year, judges. We'll know what to do if we get stuck with the blaxploitation genre!

Doll Parts

Beyond the Valley of the Dolls - dir. Russ Meyer - 1970 - USA
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Valley of the Dolls - dir. Mark Robson - 1967 - USA

Valley of the Dolls and Beyond the Valley of the Dolls are certainly two different entities altogether. As my friend Brad stated, Valley of the Dolls is a perfect historical landmark of when Old Hollywood met New Hollywood in the late-60s at the end of the studio system and production code. Beyond the Valley of the Dolls is entirely New Hollywood, taking its cue from the catty, high-camp melodrama of its "predecessor." Why would a big studio like 20th Century Fox take an underground, cult filmmaker like Meyer (Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!) and ask him to create the follow-up to one of their only big money-makers? This is all explained in the wonderfully-packaged 2-disc DVDs that were released on Tuesday. Hollywood couldn't connect with the younger audience any more, so they enlisted Meyer to create what he considers his finest film. While I can't say that I enjoy Beyond more than I do Faster, Pussycat!, it serves beautifully as a reminder of when studio execs had nothing better to do than take chances in the 1970s. Despite its similarities to Valley, Beyond, as it states in an opening paragraph, is "entirely original."

Valley of the Dolls also resonates historically; it's essentially a transition from the women's films of the 1950s on their way to Dynasty. Everything about the production is epic (in some cases, you can use "epic" as a euphemism for "extremely over-the-top"). Three ambitious young gals hit the Big Apple only to discover the horrors and melodrama of backstage show business. At first it seems hard to imagine that Jacqueline Susann's seedy novel and the film at hand were ever taken seriously, but this is where it's magical. Fox gave up the big bucks for the rights and cast two respectable Oscar winners (Patty Duke and Susan Hayward) in their trashiest (and likely flashiest, though it may be hard to imagine roles more juicy and showy than Helen Keller or a woman on death row) roles/performances. The picture quality is immaculate, and the theme song by Dione Warwick is absolutely perfect. It's a case of the Showgirls, where its earnestness and drive to create wonderful cinema elevate it to brilliant camp status, alongside such gems as Mommie Dearest or Maria Montez's Cobra Woman. This, my friends, is true camp -- not the self-designated silliness of late-John Waters or schlock like But I'm a Cheerleader. After watching the film, you'll never truly forget the name NEELY O'HARA, glowing starlet, ripped of her glory by booze, dolls (er, pills), and fags! In the insert that accompanies the DVD, it's stated that Patty Duke, as the monstrous Neely, was rather embarrassed by her performance initially, but has since gotten a sense of humor about it (Faye Dunaway in Mommie Dearest has yet to establish this about hers).

Beyond the Valley of the Dolls takes from Valley of the Dolls a similar premise. Three bright-eyed girls travel to Los Angeles, destroyed by the perils and horrors of show business, fully equipped with full-length musical numbers. Whereas Valley worked because of its sincerity, Beyond works because of a lack of it. You can almost see some execs at 20th Century Fox watching the scene in Valley where Patty Duke walks past the porno theatre that's featuring a skin flick starring her friend Jennifer (Sharon Tate), shouting "Boobies! Boobies! Boobies! Who needs 'em?" Well, the execs pondered, we do! And boobies we got. Large-breasted women are to Russ Meyer as midgets are to David Lynch or trannies are to John Waters. Brad and I discussed how one of the truly remarkable things about Beyond is its relentlessness. There's no breathing room here; at several points, I wanted to give my friend Chris, with whom I rewatched the film, a handful of useful Meyer trivia, but Russ never gave me the chance, as so much was always happening onscreen. Once you get to the Z-Man's Hollywood "happening," you just have to trust Meyer and allow him to take you exactly where he wants you to go -- and, as you soon find out, it's not a very pretty place.
What's most frightening, however, is not what actually happens at the end of Beyond, but where it's coming from. When the horror and murders begin, we're instantly thinking about the Manson Family murders, in which a pregnant Sharon Tate was brutally slain. We're thinking about the end of the 1960s and the war. On a lesser scale, too, we're thinking about Hollywood and what's to become of our beloved, larger-than-life pastime. Notice how all the deaths at the end of Beyond appear justifiable under the conservative right. The megalomaniac fag goes crazy, kills the dyke, the Nazi, the swindler, the girl who had the abortion, and maims the adulteress, before dying himself. There's a scary sense of validation in each of their deaths that I don't think Meyer or screenwriter Roger Ebert meant to be taken as their own points of view. Instead, it serves as an eerie premonition of the ways of the country, and the ways of Hollywood. It gives those consumers what they want: they want these heathens to pay for their devious actions, and they get it, albeit in a deliciously tongue-in-cheek sort of way. There are many arguments in the case of Star Wars being the killer of cinema, an explosive blockbuster (it was actually from Star Wars that the word "blockbuster" came into our vocabulary) at a time when Hollywood didn't know what to do with itself. We've been paying the price ever since. In a Nostradamus sort of way, Beyond the Valley of the Dolls captured the sentiment of a dying generation and, in an alarming way, foretold of the status of our country and our cinema.

Coming Your Way

This post is just a reminder to you (and me) of what special we can be looking for on the DVD shelves in the coming months.


On June 13th, you can get your hands on special editions of camp classics Valley of the Dolls and Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, both with a plethora of bonus footage from 20th Century Fox.

On June 27th, Michael Haneke's latest (and, maybe even, his best?) Caché hits shelves from Sony. I will be posting a review of Funny Games in the coming days.

Lionsgate has just announced (nearly 10 years too late) the popular French thriller about sex, infidelity, murder, and apartment-dwelling L'Appartement, starring Vincent Cassel, Romaine Bohringer, and Monica Bellucci, on August 22nd. You have already had the misfortune of seeing the American remake, Wicker Park.


IFC Films, now distributed by Genius Products, is bringing us three films on August 8th, most importantly Lars Von Trier's Manderlay. You can also find Sorry, Haters and CSA: The Confederate States of America on the same day.


For TV fans (or better yet, people who like good comedy), the third and final season, prematurely ended, of Arrested Development on August 29th. You can also pick up the third season of Nip/Tuck, but be forewarned, the final episode is easily the anticlimax of the year. On the 1st of August, you can also get the fifth season of Larry David's brilliant Curb Your Enthusiasm.


Tartan will be releasing the final part in Park Chan-wook's vengeance trilogy, Lady Vengeance, on September 26th. The trilogy begun with Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance and Oldboy.


If high school film noir is your cup of tea, Focus Features' Brick will be out on August 8th, starring Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Lukas Haas.


Criterion will release Eric Rohmer's Six Moral Tales as well as Noah Baumbach's quintessential 90s comedy, Kicking and Screaming, with Parker Posey in August.


And, finally, though I'm forgetting some others, in December, Home Vision will release Benoit Jacquot's À tout de suite.

Summerdreams

Here are some upcoming summer DVDs worthy of mention, more to come as I look harder:

27 June 2006
Michael Haneke's wonderful Caché will be hitting the shelves on today. Let's hope you've caught up on others before then, as Kino will have four of his early works on DVD in May.




That very same day, you can get a taste of what's already rumored to be this year's worst film (even though it's release in the States was delayed by two years), The Libertine, with Johnny Depp hamming it up (isn't that all he does?) opposite Samantha Morton and the loathesome John Malkovich.



But better still... Comedy Central is releasing a box-set of all three seasons of Strangers with Candy just in time for its much-delayed theatrical release. It comes in a very special trapper-keeper packaging. I better sell my copy of Season 1 fast.







Criterion
Criterion is bringing us Maurice Pialat's somber romance À nos amours in June, along with a double-disc of Richard Linklater's Dazed and Confused, which I shamefully enjoy immensely. In May, we'll have Viridiana. And in July, Edward Yang's Yi yi.




Dolls
Feeling like a good dose of camp? 20th Century Fox is releasing special edition of Valley and Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, with awesome cover art to boot.






Along the same lines, in July Universal will be releasing Stoned, a biopic of Brian Jones, founder of the Rolling Stones. TLAVideo suggests that this would be a good match-up with Nicolas Roeg's Performance, where Mick Jagger does his best impersonation of Brian Jones there. Expect plenty of drugs, moppy-hair, and threesomes.

On May 1st, Island Records will be releasing in the UK (in PAL and NTSC versions, don't worry) the first ever PJ Harvey DVD, entitled PJ Harvey On Tour: Please Leave Quietly. The live performances will span her career, from Dry to Uh Huh Her. She's interviewed on her website about the disc.