Like Anna Karina's Sweater

Infernaler Affairs

More often than not, sequels are a huge letdown. They're not well thought out, and their sole purpose is to try to recapture the audience dollars that the initial film brought in. Such is not the case with Infernal Affairs II. It only takes about ten minutes to see just how well thought out this complex story is. There are a handful of details that pop up in the first few scenes that immediately reflect back to moments in the first film. These are not just simple references, but rather explanations and answers for much of the behavior of the characters in part one. Infernal Affairs II is a prequel, beginning in 1991 and ending at the Hong Kong handover in 1997, yet it does so much more than simply provide back-story on the characters. Sure, we see the early years of Ming and Yan (with Edison Chen and Shawn Yue playing the young Andy Lau and Tony Leung) but their story takes a back seat to the story of Sam and Police Inspector Wong. Eric Tsang and Anthony Wong reprise their roles, and both are even more tremendous here than they were in the first film. The opening scene, which finds the two of them having a discussion at the police station, serves not only as an interesting contrast to an equivalent scene in part one, but is reason enough to see the film.

Filmbrain was trying to think of other sequels that are prequels. Of course, there is the first third of The Godfather: Part II, which was partly an inspiration for this trilogy. However, Infernal Affairs II revives every character from the first film, and adds some additional ones that will have a tremendous impact on all of them. With almost every scene comes another startling revelation about one or more characters, and by the end of the film our impressions of nearly all of them have changed, for better or worse. (Some have changed so radically that Filmbrain needs to watch part one again before diving into the final chapter.) This is an incredible achievement, and one that could only have succeeded by carefully mapping out the trilogy beforehand. Directors Lau and Mak have maintained much of the same feel of the first film, yet given it's 90's setting they have managed to make it look like the best Hong Kong films of that decade. (Cinematographer Wai Keung Lau worked on Chungking Express, and it shows.) Besides the obvious differences (huge clunky cell phones), it is noticeably less slick than the previous film. It's also much more focused on the drama, and action scenes are kept to a minimum. That's not to say it's any less tense, it's just that shootouts are few and far between. Looming over everybody's story is the 1997 handover of Hong Kong, and while this film is more political than the first, its role in the film is primarily as metaphor -- many of the characters are given the chance to start anew, much like Hong Kong itself. If you've seen Infernal Affairs, you owe it to yourself to watch the sequel. If Infernal Affairs III can maintain the dramatic intensity of parts I and II, then Hong Kong can lay claim to a trilogy that can stand up to the best of them.

Weinstein-ism of the week: In which Harvey reveals (yet again) that he is a voluminous, corpulent, hirsute Semite with considerable wealth

If Harvey himself hadn't told the following story, Filmbrain would have a hard time believing it. The situation: Harvey has grossly overpaid for Billy Bob Thornton's first feature, Sling Blade. The first test screening is a disaster. Harvey wants to cut twenty minutes; Billy Bob (who has final cut) refuses. Harvey calls him in the middle of the night and threatens to lock the film away in a vault where no one would ever see it. Their resulting conversation would make David Mamet proud:

HARVEY I'm a big fat hairy Jew worth $180 million and I can do whatever I want! I'm gonna sell the picture to HBO. You're not gonna get a Best Picture! BILLY BOB Ah don't give a sheet. Ah made the movie fo' me, not fo' anyone else, ah've seen it and I've enjoyed it, so fuck yuh. Ah'm going to stick a fork in yo' neck, motherfucka. Yuh not so tough, ah'm Billy Bob, ah'm gonna kick yuh ass, take yuh out to the wagon and whup your butt! HARVEY You're a redneck, an ignorant piece of shit! BILLY BOB Ah'm gonna cut off a horse's head and put it in yuh bed. HARVEY This is because I'm Jewish, right? Tell the truth, Billy. And so on. . . As Harvey likes to say, "I was Angelina Jolie before Angelina Jolie. Fights like fucking no tomorrow."

We Are Trying to Break Your Heart. . .

. . .is what Michel Gondry and Charlie Kaufman should have called it. It's not that Filmbrain was expecting a comedy, but he didn't expect to get so.....choked up. See Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind with someone you love. . .like Filmbrain didn't.

Experiment in Terror, or Exercise in Style?

A couple of months ago, people over at the I Love Film board were submitting lists of their twenty favorite films of all time. Somebody had the 1962 noir Experiment in Terror as their number four film (after Sans Soleil, A Woman Under the Influence, and Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story.) This intrigued Filmbrain, as he had not seen nor heard of it. What was this film that followed those three masterworks? The first thing that struck Filmbrain was its director -- Blake Edwards -- someone associated more with classic comedies (S.O.B., The Party) than with noirs. In the opening montage, a car drives up a canyon road and passes a sign leading to Twin Peaks. (Was Lynch giving a nod to this film with his TV series? Lynch fans -- please comment.) The film wastes no time getting into the action. As soon as Kelly Sherwood (Lee Remick, not pictured here, alas) arrives home, she's grabbed by the asthmatic villain (Ross Martin) that will torment her and her sister (a young Stephanie Powers) for the next two hours. Kelly works in a bank, and asthma boy tells her she will have to steal a lot of money or he will kill her sister. The film breaks with many narrative conventions usually associated with noir. We learn early on who the villain is, and the police are well aware of the situation. This, unfortunately, is the film's downfall. After this powerful opening, it just sinks into tedium. Kelly has every detective in San Francisco watching out for her -- at home, on the street, at work, in restaurants, etc. Never do we get a sense that she is ever in any danger. There's a lot of waiting around in this film, and too much time is spent following lead detective 'Rip' Ripley (wonderfully played by Glen Ford) as he chases various leads as to the whereabouts of the tormentor. A whole slew of secondary plots appear that aren't really necessary, and there are too many minor characters that serve as pure exposition. By the film's final act (a way overlong sequence at a baseball game, with gratuitous scenes of Don Drysdale pitching) Filmbrain lost all interest. However, the film did have something wonderful going for it -- style, baby, style.

Edwards and his cinematographer Philip H. Lathrop have created something that is a joy to watch for two hours -- a good thing considering the weakness of the plot. The film becomes a lexicon of film noir visual conventions: heavy shadows, contrasting patterns, high and low angles, etc. At times they perhaps go a bit overboard, as witnessed by the three photos above. San Francisco seems to be in a state of perpetual sunset, and everybody owns Venetian blinds. (How does the shadow wind up on the ceiling in that bottom shot?) The shots on the right are more indicative of what's to be found in the rest of the film -- stunning use of lighting and shot composition. The other winning element in the film is the score -- Henry Mancini at his finest. Some wonderful motifs and themes that are never overbearing or used to excess. (Does a soundtrack exist on CD?) Filmbrain can't help but think that Edwards was more interested in the look of the film than the film itself. He is quite skilled at storytelling, so perhaps the fault lies with the screenwriters ('The Gordons', as per the credits). It's not a terrible film, and Filmbrain certainly would still recommend it. The visuals and the acting (especially Glen Ford and Ross Martin) make up for what it otherwise lacks. The excellent DVD transfer brings out the richness of the cinematography in all its black and white glory.

On Stepford Wives, past and present

The trailer for the Fozzy Bear Frank Oz remake of The Stepford Wives is available online. Filmbrain's initial reaction is: bah! First off, remakes are more often than not a mistake. It's not that Bryan Forbes' 1975 film is a masterpiece -- far from it, but it's very much a product of the era, and that is critical to the effectiveness of the story. In the mid-70's the women's liberation movement was in full swing. The happy homemaker of the 50's and 60's was suddenly questioning her role -- why did she have to be stuck at home being the perfect wife and mother? Why couldn't (and shouldn't) she enter the workforce? This, naturally, made suburban males nervous -- the comforts and security of the home life were suddenly threatened. The solution that the husbands come up with in The Stepford Wives is both chillingly horrific and darkly comedic. The film (along with the original novel by Ira Levin) is hardly feminist -- it's equally critical of the women's liberation movement as it is of the American male response to it. This was a brave thing to do in that period, and the film manages to succeed as both a horror and a comedy-- something that's difficult to achieve. How will the story play out in the early 21st century? While it's still true that many men would prefer a subservient automaton as a wife (as opposed to an independent, liberated equal), women in the wealthy towns of Connecticut hardly have the same concerns that they had back in 1975. Filmbrain read in an interview with star Nicole Kidman that the new version will be a straight out comedy, and it's evident when watching the trailer. This will most likely spell disaster. If a remake is inevitable, Filmbrain would prefer that it be even darker than the original -- the skewering even deeper. This would at least be more in tune with the original novel, rather than turning it into a fluff piece. Miss Piggy Oz's other attempts at comedy have been pretty lame (Bowfinger, anyone?), and Filmbrain can't think of a more inappropriate director for the material. Add to that the hack-writing style of Paul Rudnick (Marci X, Isn't She Great) and you're pretty much guaranteed a feel-good flop. Who knows -- maybe Nicole, Matthew Broderick and Christopher Walken can save this picture yet. No matter how good or bad the film is, Filmbrain will always have a soft spot for the original. Seeing Katherine Ross in her sheer nightgown a thousand times on HBO in the late 70's really helped him get through puberty. . .

With each word uttered, Filmbrain's anticipation wanes

Today has sort of been wall-to-wall Quentin Tarantino. First, there is the Biskind book (Down and Dirty Pictures) that Filmbrain is slowly trudging through. (Biskind needs an editor - badly!) On the way to work, he read about how horrible Quentin was to his friends after the success of Pulp Fiction at Cannes -- how his ego just got out of control. Then there was the Four Rooms fiasco -- how Quentin had to be consulted for all decisions on the film, how his segment ran twenty minutes longer than everybody else's did but wasn't subject to cuts, and how he completely alienated himself from everybody else on the project. Arriving at work, Filmbrain checked in on two of his favorite blogs - Out of Focus and Cinecultist, both of which had rather interesting think pieces on Mr. QT that asked, "Who the hell does Quentin Tarantino think he is?" While their opinions of him as a filmmaker differ, both agree that his attitude, his ego, and his mere presence are all a bit too much. Cinecultist included some quotes from Tarantino that made Filmbrain's jaw drop. He dares to criticize Martin Scorsese? "There was a time we were in the same church, and I miss that." Don't flatter yourself Quentin, you wouldn't even be allowed to be an altar boy at his church. Perhaps Filmbrain need remind you that if Ringo Lam had never made City on Fire you'd still be working at the video store. At lunch, Filmbrain picked up a copy of the latest issue of Premiere, which includes yet another interview with Tarantino, equally as obnoxious. Has he really lost his mind? Have the positive early reviews of Kill Bill Vol.2 fueled his self-worship that much? For example: "And even though I was a young director, Reservoir Dogs showed that one, I write good material; two, I write really good material for actors; three, I write good dialog for actors; and four, I obviously know something about directing, because everyone was terrific in it." What is the difference between 'material for actors' and 'dialog for actors' anyway? Filmbrain won't even get into the condescending (yet totally ignorant) way he discusses Jean Luc Godard, Bande à part and Anna Karina, whose sweater in that film is not only the inspiration for this blog, but for the dance scene in Pulp Fiction. Tarantino says, "it's not an homage per se. . ." What is it then? Out and out theft? Filmbrain originally intended to post about his anticipation for Vol.2, but all this QT narcissism has soured him a bit. Perhaps a few QT-free days will change all that. Still, he does get a kick out of this rendition of The Bride, found on a Japanese tie-in website.

A REAL treat for Godard lovers

Ok -- this might not be around for long, but Filmbrain felt he simply had to share this with fellow JLG fans. One of Godard's greatest achievements is his multi-part Histoire(s) du cinéma. Originally made for French television, the eight-part series (more are rumored to come) began in 1989, with the most recent chapters arriving in 1998. Though English subtitles exist for the work, they have never been shown (to the best of Filmbrain's knowledge) on American television. (Hardly surprising!) Filmbrain considers himself fortunate to have seen most of the series at the Museum of Modern Art over the past twelve years. He's prayed often for a DVD release, but so far they have yet to materialize. (Well, they have been released on videotape in France, albeit without subtitles.) The closest we got was the ECM 5CD release that contained the complete audio from the series, along with four hardcover books containing all of the spoken text and images from the series. This in itself is a wonderful thing to own, as the work really does stand on its own as an audio artifact -- the music used runs the gamut from Meredith Monk to Keith Jarrett to Bernard Herrmann to Arvo Pärt. Filmbrain thinks it is still in print, and is really worth seeking out. Here is a wonderful review of the CD from Senses of Cinema. For those unfamiliar with the series, it is not a straightforward history of cinema but rather, as Adrian Martin explains in Senses of Cinema, "a fully-grown thesis about the intimate interrelationship of cinema and history." It contains images from many well-known films, though they are often superimposed over images of Godard at his typewriter, his editing machine, etc. You can view some screenshots here. It's endlessly brilliant, and is a must-see for all lovers of cinema. Now for the treat -- some wonderful soul has made the first part of the series, Part 1A: Toutes les Histoires, available (with subtitles!) for download. The quality is far from perfect, but at least it's a chance to have all fifty glorious minutes for your very own. A few requests: Don't stream it online. Rather, right-click and do a "Save Target As" (It's a 174 Meg .wmv file) The site is often down due to bandwidth limitations. If that happens, try again, preferably late at night Try and keep it on the q.t. Filmbrain doesn't wish to get anybody in trouble Take heed of Godard's advice: "I think the best way to look at these programs is to enter into the image without a single name or reference in your head. The less you know, the better." Enjoy. [UPDATE: Seems that part 1A is no longer available. However, the new link below will allow you to view part 2A.] Right-click the following link to save: Histoire(s) du cinéma Part 2A: Seul le cinéma

Infernal Remakes (Or: The Last Temptation of Martin Scorsese)

Filmbrain recently made a Chinatown run to pick up a fistful of DVDs that he'd been meaning to catch up on. Of all of them, the Infernal Affairs trilogy excited him the most, having read so much about them in the past year. Then there was the news that Martin Scorsese is going to remake the first film of the trilogy. This got Filmbrain a bit nervous, given his utter disdain towards remakes, especially of contemporary Asian films -- if the originals are good enough, why not simply release them? However, Scorsese is an excellent director, so Filmbrain isn't sure what to think. For those not in the know, Infernal Affairs is a policier that transcends the genre -- one that has been well overused in Hong Kong cinema. The film is slick, well written and acted, fast paced and suspenseful, but still intelligent enough to hold the interest of a curmudgeon like Filmbrain. It stars Wong Kar Wai regulars Andy Lau (As Tears Go By, Days of Being Wild) and Tony Leung (Happy Together, In the Mood for Love) who, judging by the remake must be the Brad Pitt and Leonardo DiCaprio of Hong Kong (natch). Even though it touches on familiar themes (loyalty, identity) it relies more on its actors and screenplay than it does on bullets and brawn. The story focuses on two men who happen to both be moles -- one inside the police force, and one inside a triad gang, and each is trying to determine the identity of the other. Along with the psychology and moral complexity of the situation, there's an interesting dichotomy between the moles themselves and their respective bosses cum father figures. Action sequences are kept to a minimum -- the tension comes from the intricate details that are revealed in almost every scene of the film. (Paying close attention is a pre-requisite.) Some have compared the film to Heat, though directors Andrew Lau and Alan Mak claimed to have had The Godfather in mind when creating the trilogy. The early news on the remake doesn't sound very promising. Two critical characters have been jettisoned, so as to focus all of the attention on Brad and Leonardo. This is a terrible mistake, in Filmbrain's not-so-humble opinion. It's not a clash-of-egos story, and all of the (seemingly) minor characters play a major part in elevating the film to something greater than a standard police drama. Filmbrain still has faith in Scorsese, yet he feels that the remake will be more Cape Fear than Raging Bull. Look for Filmbrain's review of parts II and III over the next few days.

Easter Special (Or: Everything Filmbrain knows about Jesus he learned from Andrew Lloyd Webber)

	"She alone has tried to give me What I need right here and now"
	"Christ you know I love you Did you see I waved? I believe in you and god so tell me that I'm saved"
	"So if you are the Christ Yes the great Jesus Christ Prove to me that you're no fool Walk across my swimming pool" [NB: Seems that Mel Gibson was not the first to portray Herod as a homosexual.]
	"Tell me what you think about your friends at the top Now who d'you think besides yourself was the pick of the crop? Buddha was he where it's at, is he where you are? Could Muhammad move a mountain or was that just PR?"

Weinstein-ism of the week: Harvey's way with words

When a Weinstein wants something, he really wants it. If he is denied it, he will attack. He first attempts to intimidate his prey via physical presence. Getting within inches, he hopes that his vastness will scare his victim into retreat. If that fails, he uses his words, few as they may be.

When Ismail Merchant complained that the penmanship on the highly negative test cards for Mr. & Mrs. Bridge was an indicator that the audience was not the educated crowd the film was made for, Harvey responded with:

"Penmanship, goddamn it, you want fuckin' penmanship, I'll give you fuckin' penmanship!"

To the personal trainer hired by his wife Eve, who was greatly concerned for Harvey's health:

"I don't have time now, here's a fifty, get the fuck out of my office."

Filmbrain's all time favorite Harvey confrontation has to be the one with Elliott Goldenthal, composer and husband of Frida director Julie Taymor. Harvey and Taymor had been arguing over a test audience's reaction to the film. Always the gentleman, Harv turns to Goldenthal:

"I don't like the look on your face. Why don't you defend your wife so I can beat the shit out of you."

If Harvey Weinstein didn't exist, Filmbrain would have to invent him. . .