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SCREENING LOG
-7/12-7/18, 2004
Back to 2004 Index
As Tears Go By (1988, Wong Kar-Wai)
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0096461/
Wong Kar Wai's first feature (now I have seen all of them
except for his latest, 2046, which alongside Godard's OUR
MUSIC was the highest-rated film from this year's Cannes Film
Festival among critics polled in the latest FILM COMMENT magazine).
Expectedly rough on the edges, especially compared to the
consummate polish that defines his current filmmaking -- but
the rough edges make the ideas and emotions that pervade Wong's
films stand out all the more sharply. The Wongian themes of
cagey human impulse in pursuit of haunted, unrealized desires
emerge in what would otherwise be a standard crime genre plot:
A gangster (Andy Lau, at the onset of his superstardom, without
the hard-edged Tom Cruise-like features that now make him
a pan-Pacific icon) trying to save his buddy (Jacky Cheung,
in the kind of self-destructive role that Leslie Cheung would
make his own in subsequent Wong movies) while attempting a
transition into the straight-and-narrow with a good little
missy (a fresh-faced Maggie Cheung). It's fascinating to observe
how Wong takes the honor-among-brothers-in-crime material
and works it so differently than, say, Ringo Lam or John Woo.
Whereas Lam empahsizes gangland Machiavellian self-preservation
strategies, and Woo fixates on a chivalric code of male conduct
in modern day crisis, Wong's focus is on the individual wrestling
with his own existential impulses, the forces that propel
one's desires in any number of directions, usually the one
least expected. Wong also gives equal time for his hero to
fraternize with both male and female companions (the latter
in a more explicit manner than Woo's Spielbergian arrested
teenager attitude towards sex). But perhaps the most unexpected
feat of this film is how it redefines TOP GUN as a proto-Wong
Kar Wai movie -- it does this through an extended homage to
the romantic interlude that was the deadliest stretch of TOP
GUN, but in Wong's hands it takes on a whole new poignancy
(despite the cheesy effects of a Cantonese cover of "Take
My Breath Away" playing in the background). Something tells
me that Tom Cruise could give the performance of his life
in a Wong Kar-Wai movie. yes
The Long Goodbye (1973, Robert Altman)
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0070334/
An inspired and original revisioning of the film noir genre,
proving that Raymond Chandler was a social visionary in how
his fragmented Los Angeles of the '30s and '40s rings truer
still in the '70s (not to mention today). The source material
also helps to keep Altman's diffuse style is kept on track,
so that Altman can take his affectionately sardonic digs at
people while still having something solid at the bottom for
much of the film... even if it seems too pat by the end. yes
(#8 for 1973 between ENTER THE DRAGON and HEAT)
Nashville (1975, Robert Altman) third viewing
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0073440/
There are some films that seem to have such obvious masterpiece
credentials that one doesn't even bother digging deeper into
them to see what makes them tick. The time I watched NASHVILLE,
in middle school, I was blown away simply by the sheer sprawling
splendor of it all -- its all-American scope of ambition was
simply overwhelming, and its distinctive achievement seemed
to tower over so many other less unconventional films (who
else had the audacity to record multiple conversations going
on at once, just as in real life? This was long before I saw
PLAYTIME, mind). Its style seemed to embody the very spirit
of American democracy on film, free-ranging, somewhat noisy
and cacophanous, but in an incredibly stimulating way.
In college I saw it again and had much the same reaction,
though this time I picked up on the biting, sarcastic treatment
of many of the characters, and the bitter disillusionment
behind the whole enterprise that becomes all too evident at
the end (the ironic lyrics of the last song, "You might say
that I'm not free/ but it don't worry me" whose ambivalent
tones reverberate endlessly into the Nashville sky). I found
the songs of the opening half particularly jokey and parodical,
if not ruthlessly satirical, especially the ones sung by Henry
Gibson. Altman himself seems relentless in cutting his characters
down to size in scene after scene, perhaps trying to get at
something but often coming up with little more than caricature
-- I particularly felt this about Geraldine Chaplin, in fact
I might have fast forwarded through her scenes after a certain
point where I couldn't stand her. But then Ronee Blakley starts
to sing and the film totally changes in demeanor -- here is
a performance that is totally, unquestionably genuine and
it single-handedly lifts the film into a new dimension, especially
the soundtrack. And I remembered from that point on the songs
had a new poignancy to them that no amount of Altman-eque
satire could efface. The screeching vagrant woman and the
black gospel choir - and everything they represent - were
finally on center stage, and nothing could take them off.
Altman had achieved a representation of American society that
was real and ineffable.
Since that memorable screening, I've read some heated arguments
on this forum about this film. To be honest I paid more attention
to the criticisms (by DFC and Chris-435 among others) than
to the ample praise made by Derek, Antonious, spinninginvertigo,
Addison and many many others -- probably because I already
assumed the film was a masterpiece, and the negative comments
were new to me. I remember DFC calling the film a cheap, mean-spirited
and wholly inauthentic representation of Nashville, and Chris
deriding Altman's filmmaking as sloppy frescoes done in watercolor,
with no real craftsmanship behind them. Whether or not these
are the complaints they really made, I had them in mind as
I rewatched the film. All in all I think I disagree with these
specific criticisms regardless of who's made them, but I think
I can relate to Chris and DFC's skepticism -- because this
time I felt like in digging deeper into the film I came up
with the impression that the film is a country-western smoke-and-mirrors
show.
At the beginning my experience matched my first viewing --
there's the initial rush of meeting all these characters and
being swept along as the narrative rumbles along like a rampaging
behemoth from recording session to airport to traffic jam
-- such an immense prolonged burst of humanity, that I think
it's what crowded out the weaker aspects of the film in my
past memories. But something happens along the way. It's not
that the film stops dead in its tracks or makes a deadly false
move -- the film is and remains a technical masterpiece of
editing (which contradicts the fuzzy structureless watercolor
criticism), cross-cutting its way into weaving a seamless
tapestry that connects dozens of lives into a captivating
narrative rhythm as distinctive as any ever conceived. And
herein is where the problem lies -- there seems to be so much
attention paid on keeping the film well-paced and watchable
that very few scenes are given enough breathing room to develop
their own substance, one that gives dimension to the characters
as well as to the themes -- this time around, I'm afraid,
pretty much everyone felt two dimensional. Given that Altman
is working with so many characters that fleshing them out
is nigh impossible, I could forgive the shortcomings in their
individual complexities if taken together they create a social
vision that is undeniably profound. And here's the real flaw
to NASHVILLE -- Altman's thematic pursuits just seemed to
hit against the same conclusions: that politics is corrupting
culture, musicians and artists are being forced to sell out,
men are selfish exploitive pricks, women are easily exploited
-- basically the same kind of insights one probably would
have come away with attending a potheaded orgy held at some
rock star's mansion at around this time, which is what this
film kind of amounts to. And he keeps hammering on these same
three notes in scene after scene, such that even the characters
seem forced to conform to them. The scene where Keith Carradine
calls another girlfriend while Lily Tomlin is still putting
her pants on, it's so pat, so obvious, the characters reverting
to behaviors expected of them, as if they were predetermined
mathematical equations -- if its going to be this predictable,
why bother shooting it?). And of course, Geraldine Chaplin
is still unbearably slight, her pretentious journalist serving
as a mockery of the media even as she inadvertently mocks
everyone around her. This time the ending, which I previously
considered one of the finest transcendent moments in American
cinema, seemed like pat grandstanding, coming at the point
where Altman realized his tank was running empty so he had
to close out with a bang and a big iconic shot of an American
flag furling in the wind - Big White Elephant gestures in
the place of genuine termite insight. A shame, as Altman is
definitely capable of small, unpretentiously great termite
moments (there are a dozen or so in NASHVILLE and just as
many in LONG GOODBYE), but he succumbs to the same impulse
to put big fat exclamation marks at the end of his film, just
as Scorsese did with TAXI DRIVER -- the saddest fact of all
is that they can find more than enough viewers to buy into
the assumption that these exaggerated finales amount to a
kind of profound statement when they're really a load of grandiose
gibberish. Heck, I certainly bought into it before!
In one sense, it's really a tragedy when one is forced to
fully confront the flaws of favorites, such that it's overall
status be downgraded (though I still think NASHVILLE is a
great film, by any standard) -- it's an enterprise so painful
that even a discerning person like ali will avoid it. But
I feel it is necessary to do this if only to better appreciate
and understand what it was that triggered my initial impressions,
and where those impressions stand in relation to recent insights
gained. These insights may be less flattering to the film
but they serve every bit as much of a purpose, not just in
understanding what makes movies great, but how different sets
of values lead to different appreciations of the same film.
downgraded from YES YES YES to yes (#6 for 1975 between XALA
and WELFARE)
Goddess of Mercy (2004, Ann Hui)
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0413515/
A young female cop goes undercover to crack a drug ring at
the southern Chinese border; she falls in love with the son
of the ringleaders, leading to disastrous consequences for
both of them as well as two other men who fall in love with
her. The best I can make of this film is as an attempt by
a non-mainland Chinese filmmaker to fuse her arthouse sensibility
to a Hong Kong action formula with wholesome mainland Chinese
sensibilities, the results fall flat, not helped in the least
by an awkward flashback framing device. Rising HK star Vicky
Zhao Wei (SHAOLIN SOCCER, SO CLOSE) is a genuine talent, but
she's miscast as a tough cop, too demure in some respects
to play this part despite her striking, sharp-eyed features.
mixed
Killer Clans (1976, Chor Yuen)
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0074745/
Judging from the two Chor Yuen films I've seen (KILLER CLANS
and the jaw-dropping INTIMATE CONFESSIONS OF A CHINESE COURTESAN),
Chor deserves mention alongside King Hu and Chang Cheh as
a major artist of the Shaw Brothers martial arts empire. This
masterpiece features the baroquest of plots that would make
Robert Towne scratch his head in befuddlement, involving rivalling
clans whose double-, triple- and quadruple- crossings amongst
its constituents amount to a kung fu game of Red Rover. Aside
from the gamesmanship involved in guessing who's really on
whose side, this onslaught of betrayals and reversals opens
up into a harsly realistic assessment loyalty -- or the lack
thereof -- and its impossibility in the world (on this score,
the film blows the simlarly themed MIKEY AND NICKY, made the
same year, out of the water). As with INTIMATE CONFESSIONS,
power is the ultimate object, and human relationships merely
a game to play towards achieving that goal, the rules broken
or bent whenever necessary. Chor's grim, deterministic view
of human relationships and power struggles spares no one from
scathing scrutiny -- the only unquestionably loyal characters
in the film, a dutiful husband and wife - end up poisoning
themselves and their little children (!) in order not to betray
their master. Chor utilizes the Shaw Brothers' studio to create
a series of self-contained, densely decorated sets that encapsulate
each character in their own cocoon-like enclave, adding to
the feeling of private intrigues lurking under deceptive surfaces.
Throw a couple of raunchy sex scenes and a half-dozen brilliantly
staged fights (choreographed by Yuen Woo-Ping's brother) involving
various ingeniously designed weapons, and you've got yourself
a shockingly satisfying and impeccably crafted entertainment,
though one that takes more than a single viewing to fully
comprehend. (Note on DVD: the Celestal/Shaw Bros. DVD reissue,
one of 700+ other Shaw classics in the process of being remastered
on DVD, is impeccable. Print quality is exceptional, with
several subtitle language options, and assorted extras. The
English commentary soundtrack is by the highly qualified Sino-cinephile
Bey Logan, sort of a Brit expat version of Tarantino whose
comments are less about the content of the film than biographical
details on the many, many studio players in it -- too bad,
as the immensely complex story could use some explanatory
notes. YES YES (#1 for 1976)
I Was Born, But... (2004, Roddy Bogawa)
this film not listed on IMDb
Bogawa, a longtime fixture on the Asian American filmmaking
circuit but who is now arguably more feted in the experimental
underground, offers a titular homage to Ozu (one of his cinematic
idols) that is just as informed by his punk heroes Joe Strummer
and Joey Ramone, both recently deceased. Ramone's death in
2002 triggers Bogawa to return to his childhood home of Los
Angeles, revisiting the many punk clubs he frequented as a
teenager, many of which have been converted into strip malls
or hardware stores. Bogawa commemorates each site using long,
languorous takes that bring to attention the incipient mortality
inherent in each moment of our lives -- combined with his
amusing, ruminative voiceover, the effect is often heartbreaking.
The film ends with footage of Strummer's last performance
captured on film; Strummer rips through a rendition of "Blitzkrieg
Bop" looking weary but resilient, a fittingly ambivalent note
for this feature-length assessment of the legacy of punk in
a post-punk world. yes
Night Passage (2004, Trinh T. Minh-ha)
this film not listed on IMDb
Trinh T. Minh-ha, a leading cultural studies scholar and
recognized filmmaker, offers a sort of Nancy Drew story involving
two young women (Eugenia Yuan and Denice Lee) and a boy who
take a kind of Cook's tour through various scenes that resemble
mixed media and performance art installations. There are a
number of interesting moments but the ideas don't quite gel
into something persuasive and the narrative is deadly dull.
All in all it feels like a cross between a public television
children's program and a museum promotional video. mixed
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