Effing Movies

There’s something about the fall that makes me start thinking cinematically. The barometric pressure, ambient temperatures, and change in lighting angles seem to conjure up crisply framed scenes accompanied by poignant soundtracks in my mind for the most mundane of daily activities. The camera cuts to a strait overhead shot as I sit hunched, head in my left hand, shoveling oatmeal into my mouth in the semi-light of 6:37am. The colours are muted and the contrast high as Dire Straits subtly compliments the quiet clink of silverware and the muffled thwack of the morning paper hitting the door. With the embers of the day smoldering over the bucolic spread of vineyards and dilapidated barns, the camera pans along with a sprinting Honda as Bob Seager growls out Roll Me Away. I have these moments at other times of the year, but they seem to intensify and proliferate in the cooling environs of the fall, so in that spirit I've decided to renew my movie reviewing efforts. As per the previous review post, I’ll only review one film thoroughly and leave the rest to scores and highlights.

Since the last film review post I have seen a staggering 10 films. They are, in chronological order:

1. Born into Brothels
   
2. Capote
   
3. Memento
4. Charade
   
5. The Boondock Saints
6. Mr. and Mrs. Smith
7. The Chorus
8. Weird Science
   
9. Knocked Up
10. F**K
    

Maybe it’s the serial position effect or maybe it’s my affinity for the taboo, but I’ve decided to give the feature to the most recent documentary I saw, F**K.

Carl Jung believed that we are all connected through a collective unconscious, and as such the Universe will tell us things that are, that have been and that will be if we pay attention. All week people have been randomly dropping the eff-bomb all around me, and last night (Saturday) I ended up watching Steve Anderson’s documentary on the word. I have no idea what the Universe might be trying to tell me through that, but I sincerely hope that it’s not an omen of things to come.

This documentary did three things very well. It let me know what Ice Tea thinks about the eff-bomb. It let me know what Drew Carey thinks about the eff-bomb. It also cleared up the urban legend that it is an acronym of some sort, which is a spurious urban legend according to the many distinguished linguists they paraded across the screen. Expecting a smart and well-crafted film about the history and utility of society’s most exciting and well-known taboo, the film ended up being more of a smorgasbord of famous opinions about the value of censorship and either idolization or vilification of the eff word, a la ‘I Love the 80’s.’

The movie was far from void, I don’t mean to give a completely pejorative vibe on the thing. It was generally well shot, there was an interesting cast of interviews from Sam Donaldson to Tera Patrick and everyone in between. There were some interesting segments over the linguistic flexibility of the word (it can be used legitimately as almost every part of speech), its history and the public debate over its use in several different contexts, and an honest effort to provide some contrast in opinion. In the end, however, the film ended up coming off juvenile due largely to some poorly constructed segments arguing for a categorical absolution of FCC regulation. Based entirely on Red Herring arguments about increasing fines under the Bush administration and some half-baked parenting philosophy pitched by Kevin Smith, it was 25 minutes of shaky rhetoric and shoddy diatribes that lost the film a lot of the luster it had previously garnered. It’s not everything I hoped it would be, but it’s a good film for everyone who’s ever muttered it under their breath after an excruciating exam or screamed it at a roommate after they ate your last lasagna again and took your calculator to study in the library when you needed it for a test.
Grade: B-

Scores and Highlights:

Born into Brothels: If someone had told me three years ago that it was possible to shoot an uplifting documentary about children born to generational prostitutes in Calcutta's red-light district, I would have had a hard time believing them. Zana Briski was able to manage just that in this stirring picture of the impact of one woman’s refusal to be content with moral outrage and instead commited her life to brightening an otherwise dark situation. Witnessing the change in how the children composed not only their photographs but also their lives was nothing short of miraculous.
Grade: A-

Capote: Phillip Seymore Hoffman is superb in this relentless film about Truman Capote’s pursuit of his groundbreaking non-fiction fiction piece In Cold Blood. The film didn’t do much for me other than give me an appreciation for the spent-uranium durability of the author and provide a fascinating look into the life of the midwife of modern American literature. The writing, acting, directing and pacing are all accomplished at the highest levels. So yeah, I guess it kinda did do a lot for me after all.
Grade: B+

Memento: I hadn’t seen this film in a long time and I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed it. I’m not sure if I’ve seen a film before or since as conceptually intriguing as Memento, and while the acting is a little stilted at times and the writing is more than adequately covered by bizarreness of the plot, the film is able to sneak a surprising amount of character development in among the twists and is thoroughly enjoyable to loose yourself in. It was even better the second time after a bottle of wine.
Grade: A-/A+++

Charade: I have a bias against old movies, and I’m not sure why it is. If a movie is filmed before 1985, I always end up looking at a movie jacket and thinking it’s going to blow. Well, after polishing off this smart action/comedy circa 1963, I had not only changed my tune about older movies but also found myself completely enamored with Audrey Hepburn. A charming and classy woman from another time and another place, she is something we could use much more of in contemporary cinema. Decently acted and cleverly delivered, Charade was good clean fun for the whole family. Random casting note: This was apparently the other movie Walter Matthau did before Grumpy Old Men.
Grade: A-

The Boondock Saints: This film is exceptionally violent, frequently obscene and almost entirely dark, and yet somehow manages to preserve an unidentifiable quality which would resemble hope if it wasn’t so grizzled. This film also manages to capture filial piety in a way that transcends acting, writing or directing, and I have always been impressed by that. My favourite scenes from this movie are the old Irish barkeep screaming, “F**K!!!!! ASS!!!!!!!!” and blinking apoplectically as a group of Nuns hurry past in a hospital hallway and the brothers conversing in five different languages with Agent Smecker. It’s not a flick for everyone, but if you’re in the mood for some film noire killing and maiming, this one’s for you. Best taken with a Guinness or five.
Grade: B

Mr. and Mrs. Smith: Yeah, I saw it. I could have spent that 97 minutes counting the hairs on my forearm and been about the same off intellectually and emotionally. It wasn’t even bad enough to be entertaining. The end.
Grade: C-/D+

The Chorus: This charming French film about a transformation in a delinquent school for boys has found a warm spot in with me. Part of it is likely my inexplicable affection for the French, but this film did a fine job of portraying the power of decency and humility when speaking into even the most hardened of environments. Due to the film being entirely in French, this isn’t the flick for you if you don’t like subtitles and/or don’t speak French, but it’s well worth trying to get over either obstacle to enjoy this warm and affirming tale about the importance of being human in inhumane circumstances.
Grade: A-

Weird Science: What can you really say about this Saturday afternoon classic? It's basically a distillation of male juvenile primary processing, right down to the fecal troll Bill Pullman gets turned into, and it had been years upon long years since I'd seen it. Between the mutant biker gang, stealing the popular girls from Robert Downey Jr. and jaunting nonchalantly around town in Ferraris, it's a fun house of every Jr. High guy all dressed up in undeniably 80's threads. Not really intelligent, not really subtle in any way shape or form, but campy and random.
Grade: B-

Knocked Up: I actually enjoyed this flick a lot more than I thought I would when it came in the mail. I had heard rave reviews from several different sources over the months since its release, but remained skeptical. Partly because of my low expectations, however, and partly because most of the cast were strongly reminiscent of my friends in high school, I ended up appreciating the crassness and awkwardness captured so authentically in this film of trying to negotiate life between people who are so unalike. An enjoyable film as long as you don’t take anything too seriously.
Grade: B