SCREENING LOG - 12/31, 2001 - 1/06, 2002

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Take an entire 2-week holiday without watching any movies, a preponderance of year-end best lists, and a fellow whose fiance is out of town and has nothing to do, and you get:Ali, Cold Water, films by Georges Melies, Under the Sand, Les Vampires, Why Has Bodhi-Dharma Left for the East?, The Gleaners and I, and Hedwig and the Angry Inch. In order of preference:

Films by Georges Melies

I saw a series of 8 short films dated between 1904-1912, and they were sheer magic. Melies, originally a magician by trade, transformed film from its Lumierian purpose of photographing reality to one of realizing the impossible. If you ever get a chance to see his films, don't miss it.

Les Vampires (1914, Louis Feuillade)

My viewing of this landmark 10 part serial of class warfare disguised in a cops-and-robbers plot concludes with poisonings, shootings, a couple of dizzying escapes and a happy ending (for those who were rooting for the cops, unfortunately : ( ). For those interested in the origins of film noir, this is it -- and yet it surpasses all of its successors in depicting, with gleeful abandon, the darkness and terror that lurks in the shadows of our everyday existence.

The Gleaners and I (2001, Agnes Varda)

Widely considered to be the best documentary of the past year, though it transcends that genre to become a marvelous meditation on society, class, waste, technology, travel and aging. Varda roams the cities and countryside of France with her brand new videocamera, seeking people who "glean", picking up leftovers and trash of all kinds for their own uses. Varda herself is a gleaner as she collects dozens of remarkable subjects from all corners of society. While the things one learns about how much waste modern society deliberately creates is appalling, Varda's point of view is clearly one of optimism and wonder at humanity's ability to persevere.

Cold Water (1994, Olivier Assayas)

A raggedly beautiful film that captures the teen experience visually better than any movie I can recall. Virginie Ledoyyen and Cyprien Fouquet are two unapologetic delinquents at odds with just about everyone -- the camera charts their movements with no trace of moralizing; it gives them just enough space to be their intelligent, confused, imperfect selves. If anything, this film should be seen for its lengthy party sequence in an abandoned mansion -- 20 minutes of blazing, raving glory.

Under the Sand (2001, Francois Ozon)

Charlotte Rampling puts this film on her back and goes the distance as a woman coping with the sudden disappearance of her husband. Her behavior during this crisis is often unexpected but always natural. Her eyes throughout this film are a revelation -- they alone convey a spectrum of emotions I can only begin to fathom. With a couple of love scenes she also stakes her claim as the sexiest 50-something on the planet -- and it's a testament to this film for portraying middle-age love, and grief, with great respect and thoughtfulness.

Ali (2001, Michael Mann)

My admiration for this film has grown with time, chiefly because it succeeded in making history feel very much in the present. It conducts the unenviable task of cutting the myth of Ali down to size, and trying to recreate the man within, the one who thought before acting, who listened before he spoke, who privately contemplated his public persona. Of course some people will object to a less-than-larger-than-life treatment of their hero, but it brings his life back into the realm of interpretation and for that it should be commended. Though Will Smith lacks the fire in Ali's eyes, he succeeds in every other respect; Jamie Foxx as Ali's trainer and Jon Voight as a dead-on Howard Cossell stand out among the ensemble.

Why Did Bodhi-Dharma Leave for the East? (1989, Yong-kyun Bae)

If Little Buddha can be considered as Movie Buddhism 101, then this must surely be the advanced class, where you get your butt kicked. The film follows three monks -- an aging master, a young monk taking care of him, and an even younger orphan in training -- as they each follow their own path towards Enlightenment. There is hardly any dialogue in the film, and so the viewer is set on a path to make meaning out of the elusive but breathtakingly beautiful visuals. Strongly recommended to those with a serious interest in this religion.

Hedwig and the Angry Inch (2001, John Cameron Mitchell)

The first half is truly stunning as a balls-out rock n' cinema experience, but the unbelievably banal second half undermines the film's claim to greatness. Hedwig is a fascinating conundrum of German-American cultural conflicts, from transsexual 70s glam rock to Marlene Dietrich to gummi bears. Unfortunately John Cameron Mitchell, who wrote, directed, and starred in the title role, decides to pop his own beautiful balloon with an out-of-place melodramatic subplot, that only exposes how paper-thin the characters are drawn, Hedwig included. Party up to the first half and shut it off the moment you smell something serious.

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