SCREENING LOG - 3/17-3/23, 2003

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I watched DAYS OF HEAVEN, MORVERN CALLAR, BRING IT ON, 25TH HOUR and TROUBLE IN PARADISE. In order of preference:

Trouble in Paradise (1932, Ernst Lubitsch)

It now seems as difficult to choose which Lubitsch film I like most (this one vs. THE SHOP AROUND THE CORNER) as it is to describe what is that makes his films so special, the famous "Lubitsch touch". This light-footed, light-hearted but oddly profound masterpiece involves two Continental huckster lovers who infiltrate the immediate circle of a wealthy heiress, whose own charms threaten to dissolve the union of the devious duo. Lubitsch does some things with editing and camera movement here that floored me, much of which would be lifted by Orson Welles and Preston Sturges a decade later, while Lubitsch would become more restrained. While I adore the steady, laid-back grace and gradual unfolding of human circumstances in SHOP AROUND THE CORNER, I can't say for certain that the stylistic flamboyance of TROUBLE IN PARADISE doesn't have its own share of heart and soul -- if anything it reflects the characters and how the front they put on, with their witty barbs and clever schemes, are merely a way to conceal the tender feelings festering inside them. Any way you cut it, it's a lovely work.

Days of Heaven (1978, Terrence Malick) second viewing

There's no question that this film about a migrant couple in the American heartland who try to swindle a dying farmer is one of the most visually ravishing films ever made. Beyond that, it's remarkable to realize that Terrence Malick is the one filmmaker of our time who has tried to take the silent film aesthetic and vindicate it for the era of sound and color. Every breathtaking image in this film can be traced back to Dovzhenko (peasants harvesting wheat alongside mighty tractors), Murnau (peasants dancing outside by the firelight), Vidor (peasants running after trains), von Stroheim (peasants exchanging lustful looks and mano-a-mano death struggles) and Griffith (peasant girls that look and act like Lilian Gish). The good news is that there's at least one filmmaker who is still watching the films of these masters. The bad news is, when you try to incorporate this aesthetic into a modern idiom, the simplistic, outdated insights into human conflict feels quaintly naive, if not flat out preposterously, regressively nostalgic. But despite these limitations, Malick does synthesize his influences into a language of visual storytelling incomparable with any of his generation, drunken on its own beauty and strangely moving.

25th Hour (2002, Spike Lee)

Edward Norton, in a performance so wonderfully understated it's easy not to notice, plays a convicted drug dealer trying to make the most of his last day before going to prison. His girlfriend (Rosario Dawson) and childhood friends (Barry Pepper and Philip Seymour Hoffmann, all terrific) accompany him while blaming themselves and each other for where his life has led. The story is messy, and Lee's characteristic machismo and preachiness turn up uncomfortably on several occasions, but all of this works well to create a feeling of life that flows naturally, loosely, bubbling with internal moral crises and with no clear resolutions in sight. This film feels like a deeply personal statement, full of passion and rage, and it's great to see Lee trying hard to make sense of the crap he sees in a world of post-9/11 uncertainty. While the film can't help but feel grandiose at times, there are several moments where he seems to be improvising jazz-like with his characters and themes. The result is an exciting, purposeful film, the best he's made in years, and worthy of comparison to Kurosawa's IKIRU. Brian Cox should get a King of Cameos award for his work here and in ADAPTATION. He delivers a monologue at the end of this film that took me to the brink of tears -- a speech that spills over with purple prose dreams of a better future, but with Cox's delivery and Lee's powerful visuals, the sentiments take on substance, and soar.

Morvern Callar (2002, Lynne Ramsay)

Samantha Morton, who seems more like Emily Watson's little sister with each role, plays a seemingly empty-headed rave chick who pawns her dead boyfriend's manuscript as her own and heads off to Spain for a spell of post-mourning debauchery. I haven't seen Ramsay's RATCATCHER but this film, in its delirious style and refusal to settle down, seems like a female answer to Wong Kar Wai's HAPPY TOGETHER; it also feels like a much darker counterpart to P.T. Anderson's PUNCH-DRUNK LOVE. There are moments of occasional brilliance swirling in the mix, and it's never less than watchable; if one is content with exploring the sensations of a lifestyle that doggedly refuses any significance, this film hits the mark.

Bring It On (2001, Peyton Reed)

This teen cheerleader satire tries too hard to be funny and hip, but it is hilarious in spots, and watching Kirsten Dunst is a reward in itself. The most intriguing plot twist involves a whitebred high school cheer squad stealing its routines from their black high school counterparts. Unfortunately this intriguing observation on the devious ways of American pop culture is left underdeveloped, but at least there's an all-girlie car wash scene in its place.

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