Like Anna Karina's Sweater

Introducing Filmbrain's Screen Capture Quiz of the Week!

Judging by the emails Filmbrain receives, the dedicated followers of this site (read: both of them) are pretty much filmbrains in their own right. So, for a bit of fun, he came up with the idea of a weekly visual film quiz. Each week he will dip into his DVD collection and capture a particular scene from a fairly well known film -- but it won't be an obvious scene, naturally. Unless otherwise noted, all captures will be from DVDs readily available here in the US -- no obscure, bootleg, out-of-print, underground Japanese films -- that's a promise. Please don't post answers here -- email them instead. After n weeks (5? 10?) the person with the greatest number of correct answers will win.....something. (Filmbrain hasn't determined what that is yet. Any ideas?) The first entry is a simple one, and it is dedicated to The Cinetrix, which in itself is a huge clue. Good luck!

Kubrick's Salad Days: Day of the Fight

Kubrick's other film from 1951 is the excellent short, Day of the Fight. Unlike The Flying Padre, with its by-the-numbers approach to a newsreel-like short, Day of the Fight contains several elements that Kubrick would return to in later films. The film covers a day in the life of boxer Walter Cartier as he prepares for a fight. Though just over fifteen minutes, the film is neatly divided into three distinct sections. The first part, an introduction to the sport of fighting, is a quick montage of both fighters and the overly excited and dedicated fans. Some of the narration borders on the poetic: "Toe to toe body contact, physical violence, the triumph of force over force, the primitive, the curious visceral thrill of seeing one animal overcome another. Touch of claret, call it blood if you will." (Shades of Clockwork Orange?) The middle section opens with a shot of a boxing flyer hanging from a lamppost, followed by some great NYC rooftop shots, both of which Kubrick would use again in Killer's Kiss. We then get to see Walter at home, who lives with and is managed by his brother Vincent. (Just like Raging Bull, but without "Did you fuck my wife?") Without the narration, the footage of them eating, shaving, dressing, and playing with their dog looks vaguely like something out of an Alexander Hammid short. The brothers go to church, eat steak, and then head to the arena for the fight. The final third of the film is the fight itself, and there is some beautiful editing here. Besides the fight footage (skillfully shot by Kubrick and Alexander Singer), there are some wonderful cutaways to men all around the city -- standing around and smoking, while listening to the fight on the radio. Even the sound editing is impressive -- we clearly hear not only the sound of the punches, but of the individual calls and screams from the fans. It's a short fight (only one round) but a genuinely exciting piece of filmmaking. Filmbrain wonders if the film had any influence on Scorsese and Raging Bull -- there are a few moments, particularly a through-the-stool-legs shot of the other fighter that seemed very familiar. Day of the Fight is an excellent first film that far exceeds Kubrick's two other shorts for signs of the future master. This would have made a perfect companion piece on the Killer's Kiss DVD -- but no such luck. Next time: Kubrick's first color film -- The Seafarers.

After the end of the affair

Hong Sang-soo is the director most responsible for Filmbrain's interest in contemporary Korean cinema. As mentioned elsewhere on this blog, Filmbrain still considers him the best and most interesting Korean director working today. Hong wears his western influences on his sleeve, but the oft-made comparisons to Rohmer and Antonioni are perhaps a bit superficial. His method of exploring human nature and its shortcomings is distinctively his own. His depictions of relationships between men and women (and the reasons men want women, and vice-versa) are honest to the point of being painful. Unlike Rohmer, Hong isn't interested in creating moral parables, and if his films contain ambiguous endings, it's only due to the nature of the relationships he depicts. The one film of his that stands out from the others in this regard is his second film, 1998's The Power of Kangwon Province, which explores the lives of a man and a young woman shortly after their illicit affair has ended. Early on in the film, a minor character is shown reading the Rimbaud poem Sensation, which pretty much sums up the tone of the film: I shall not speak, I shall think about nothing But endless love will mount in my soul; And I shall travel far, very far, like a gypsy, Through the countryside, - happy as if I were with a woman. The film is divided into two parts, covering the same period, but from the individual perspectives of the man and the woman. As the film opens, Ji-sook is on a crowded train from Seoul to the Kangwon Province, an extremely popular (and overcrowded) getaway that has both beautiful beaches and dramatic mountain vistas. She has just ended her affair with her married professor, Sang-kwon, who also happens to be on the train, though neither realizes that. Meeting up with a couple of girlfriends with the intention of getting over him, she instead winds up in the bed of another married man; a police officer they meet in the mountains. Though she begins an affair with him, she's clearly unable to let go of Sang-kwon and move on with her life. The situation is much the same for Sang-kwon. At a crossroads career wise, he finds himself unable to make a commitment, even with pressure from his wife. Needing to escape, he heads to Kangwon with a friend, but the trip does nothing to help his situation. After some reluctant sightseeing the two wind up with a couple of prostitutes, and in one of the most un-erotic sex scenes ever, Sang-kwon winds up being badgered by her to hurry up and finish. The events that occur that night in Kangwon might as well have been in Seoul, and Hong appears to be implying that any benefits of leaving the city for the countryside are made redundant by the inclusion of big city distractions -- bars, nightclubs, prostitutes, etc. Both Ji-sook and Sang-kwon's segments contain a scene that has become somewhat of a trademark for Hong -- a lengthy meal, many bottles of soju (a sweet potato vodka), and drunken confessions/truths that end up in either tears or a fight. (Hong demands that his actors are actually drunk in these scenes -- and it shows!) Though not as dramatic as the equivalent scene in his previous film, The Day a Pig Fell Into a Well, they are both a bit uncomfortable, and Hong's stationary camera gives it a somewhat voyeuristic quality. The film ends with Sang-kwon and Ji-sook meeting again some months later, and their encounter is disturbing, degrading, and more than a little pathetic. The breakup left the two of them in a state of dissatisfaction with everything, and though both are shown waiting for something -- anything -- to help them rediscover some joy in life, the final scene shows that neither has succeeded. Though one could argue that Sang-kwon is better off situationally, emotionally the two are equally despondent. Filmbrain isn't sure what 'power' Kangwon holds, but it clearly isn't the power to heal. If you've ever suffered from an unpleasant breakup (and let's face it, who hasn't) there's much in the film to identify with, and though we (hopefully) may not have made the same mistakes as Sang-kwon and Ji-sook, Hong still succeeds in churning up the kind of feelings that are better left unchurned. This is the type of film Filmbrain loves the most -- one that practically forces you to reflect on the less-than-stellar moments of your life.

A slightly more sobering look at Fahrenheit 9/11

First off, Filmbrain apologizes for last night's drunken mess of a post. Some of his reactions were a bit too emotional, and it was dangerously close to "I love you man!" territory. The bright light of a new day has brought with it a clarity that allows Filmbrain to look at the film with a more critical eye.

As Karen Cinecultist points out in her review, the film is indeed a propaganda piece, and quite an effective one at that. (Moore himself likens it to an Op-Ed piece.) But unlike the great propaganda films of, say, Leni Riefenstahl, Moore hasn't created an aesthetic around his message. This is more of an old-school Soviet montage approach. Jean Luc Godard seems to feel that this may backfire, and the film will have the opposite effect of what was intended. Such is the belief of N (the 1 of 1.5 Frenchmen) and you can read the comment he left on the post from last night. Filmbrain understands where both Godard and N are coming from, but feels they may not understand what Moore is trying to achieve. More on that later.

What's so damn hard to stomach in the film is Bush himself. His smugness, his little grins -- his entire way of handling himself is anything but presidential. This goes way beyond his inability to pronounce certain words -- the man truly is an idiot. Filmbrain is open to ANY arguments to the contrary. (Godard's view is that Bush is either less stupid than he looks, or so stupid you can't change him. Touché.) This is why Hitchens and his ilk have no recourse but to attack Moore on a personal level. Their beloved leader is a shell of a man, incapable of doing anything without his handlers' instruction. Watch the seven or so minutes of Bush in the classroom on 9/11 after Andy Card tells him that America is under attack. What's your explanation? (Hitchens claims that if Bush jumped up, conspiracy theorists would use that as proof of foreknowledge. Wow Christopher, you're really reaching, aren't you?)

There's a lengthy sequence in the film that tells the story of Lila Lipscomb from Flint, Michigan who has lost her son in the war. She finds herself in Washington for a conference, and decides to go visit the White House. Outside, she is accosted by a young, well-dressed woman who first insists, "this whole thing is staged." When Lipscomb tells her that her son was killed in Iraq, the woman's first reaction is a testy, "where?" followed by "well, other people suffered too." To top it off, as Lipscomb is walking away, the woman yells, "blame Al-Qaeda!" It is this incredibly ignorant reaction that, in Filmbrain's mind, justifies Michael Moore's tactics. And it is here that the disagreement with N (as well as the three-hour sake and beer-fueled argument) began.

Moore has made it clear that the purpose of the film is to bring about regime change. In order to achieve that, he has to reach people who are content with the current situation -- i.e., people who get their information from the 11:00 news, tabloids, FOX, etc. where nary a negative word is heard. The people who believe Al Qaeda have anything to do with the war in Iraq. They are not going to be sold on speeches by Richard Clarke or Craig Unger, but will (hopefully) react to images that Bush & Co. have done their best to keep from the eyes of the American public. Sure, many are unbearable to look at, and, as N points out, there is a risk that they can have the opposite effect. But is it not a risk worth taking if you are trying to change somebody's mind? Godard is right in saying that Moore lacks subtlety, and that he doesn't distinguish between text and image, but what he (and N) need to realize is that he's not after French intellectual approval. He's trying to get folks from the heartland to reconsider whom they will vote for in November. N may not need to see images of Iraqi children with limbs blown off because he's well aware of the existence of such things, but there are people who do.

What's the most successful Holocaust film? The most successful Jesus film? Answer in both cases -- the most visceral one. The one that simply recreates. A sad fact, but true. People seem to be able to identify and react emotionally to something only if it's writ large, hyper-real, and shoved in their faces. Is Filmbrain arrogant for thinking this way? Perhaps. (Is Filmbrain comparing Fahrenheit 9/11 to these films? Most certainly not!) Is Moore guilty of condescension? Filmbrain doesn't believe so. Moore is clearly passionate about the subject, and yet he's more than willing to take a back seat this time around. In this regard, Fahrenheit 9/11 is not a typical Michael Moore film -- there's very little of his trademark "Mike against the big guy" scenes. He's not shown chasing down Rumsfeld, or Cheney. There's no attempts at dragging his camera crew where he knows he shouldn't be. Nobody is caught off guard. (The closest he gets is a brief scene where he attempts to collar congressmen into having their children join the military.) In this film, the cast of characters speak for themselves. The material is strong (and disconcerting) enough on its own.

Whereas most of the audience was choked up (many to tears) by the Lili Lipscomb story, N felt it wasn't much better than the "crying relative" shots that the network news loves to capture at any accident/disaster/killing/etc. Filmbrain was moved by her story, and he felt there are probably quite a few people who lost loved ones that initially bought into the lies about the rational for this war. Moore doesn't overplay it, nor does he include it for manipulative purposes.

Filmbrain is surprised that the film won the Palme d'Or, and he no longer believes the jury's claim that the award was based on cinematographic merit and not political. It is a good film, and one that is even worthy of a second viewing. At the very least, a document that captures the essence of the man that will most likely be remembered as one of the worst presidents in history. For that reason alone, Filmbrain is glad it exists. He can only imagine what people will make of the film fifty years from now. Is the film going to sway many voters? Doubtful. Filmbrain is very curious and will be keeping half an ear on right-wing talk radio over the next few days to see what type of "arguments" they can formulate against the film. More important though is to know what Marleigh and the Cinetrix (both who have been openly critical of Moore) think of the film.

[N.B. - Filmbrain's other partner in crime last night (the .5 Frenchman, T) has left a brilliant, impassioned response on the earlier post. Well worth reading.]

Filmbrain's 3:00 AM sake-drunken review of seeing Fahrenheit 9/11 with 1.5 Frenchmen

Filmbrain will probably regret posting this, but here goes. Writing this with West Side Story in the background (thanks TCM!)

The scene around the East Village theater earlier this evening was ecstatic. The demand to see the film was so high, the theater decided to show the film all night long, with screenings running throughout the night, on three screens, until 8:00 AM. There were activists all around handing out flyers, members of the DNC looking for donations, and a guy in a suit and Bush mask clutching an oversize globe. The only protest was a young guy in a suit who walked by and felt the need to call us "communists" and told us all to "fuck off" while he chanted "USA USA USA!" Whatever.

Earlier in the day, Filmbrain read two extremely negative attacks on the film -- Christopher Hitchens' twisted attack in Slate and Armond White's painfully embarrassing article from the New York Press that, amongst other things, blames Quentin Tarantino for the Abu Ghraib abuse. He really should consider getting out of the criticism game -- this is beyond ridiculous. Oh, and then there's the hate mail sent by Move America Forward fans to theater owners (found on Rashomon's blog) -- particularly scary considering that none of the people who sent letters have actually seen the film.

[West Side Story is at the America scene: Life can be bright in America/If you can fight in America/Life is all right in America/If you are white in America!]

Back to Fahrenheit 9/11 -- really good film, certainly Michael Moore's best -- much more restrained -- very little of those Michael Moore shenanigans that we've become used to. Best thing about it -- Filmbrain left the theater hating Bush more than he thought possible, and even more than he already did. As many critics have declared -- this is a film that everybody should see -- doesn't matter what side you're on -- and let the debate begin. For anybody who gets their news from sources other than the networks, CNN or FOX, there's not much in there that's new -- and this is exactly the source of the three-hour debate with 1.5 Frenchmen.

Filmbrain argues with his French friend (we'll call him N) on an almost daily basis. Not fights, mind you, but worthwhile intellectual debates. Anyhow, N seems to align himself with Godard in his criticism of the film, and the argument was centered around le texte contre l'image. The .5 Frenchman (we'll call him T, with the other .5 being British) tended to agree with Filmbrain, and felt that the inclusion of disturbing images was essential to Moore's position. You see, there are loads of people in this country who swallow the ejaculations of Bush, his administration, and the media, and it's long past due that somebody put things into perspective. The war was a sham, and it was about not much more than personal vendetta and oodles of profits for Bush's pals. Moore brings the war home -- puts a human face on it that until now the govt. has been successful in hiding from the American public.

[Tony and Maria are singing One Hand, One Heart, and it's really about time Filmbrain got some sleep, even though the room is spinning.]

Having seen the film, Filmbrain now has a better perspective on the Hitchens and White reviews -- after watching Fahrenheit 9/11 it's truly impossible for anybody with half a brain to say "I support Bush", for the film beautifully exposes him for what he is -- a mindless, bumbling, idiot. The only thing left to do is attack Moore on a personal basis. Hitchens sold his soul, and sold out the left in order to embrace the new right -- and now he finds himself in a most embarrassing situation. Only thing left -- attack Moore on a personal level. Now that Bush has turned his back on soldiers (what with all the benefit cuts), and things aren't going quite as planned, what's Hitchens to do? White's column is so incredibly stupid (calling Moore a fascist?) that it's hardly worth a rebuttal.

More on Moore tomorrow -- promise -- right now Filmbrain needs to pass out. . .

[THURSDAY MORNING UPDATE: Yikes! Bad idea to write last night. Might pull this post down in a few hours and replace it with something slightly more coherent.]

A new production company that plans to keep abreast of the competition

File under: news that moves the film industry doomsday clock one minute closer to midnight.

Dennis Publishing, the company behind such highbrow men's fare as Maxim and Stuff has decided to enter the world of film production. The new division, named Moving Pictures DPI, will create movie, TV, DVD and radio productions based on the publisher's magazine titles.

An insider at the company, on condition of anonymity, told Filmbrain¹ that their first production is to be an all-female remake of The Wild Bunch, starring Pamela Anderson, Monica Bellucci, Shannon Elizabeth, Carmen Electra, etc. etc.

¹Well....not really

Kubrick's salad days: The Flying Padre

As reported last week, Filmbrain got his hands on a DVD that contains all of Stanley Kubrick's films prior to Killer's Kiss. Even though the quality on all the films couldn't possibly be worse, it was a great opportunity to see the early works of a director that Filmbrain considers one of the most important of the 20th century. Kubrick made two short films in 1951 -- the surprisingly wonderful Day of the Fight, and the rather blasé The Flying Padre. Made in newsreel style for RKO, The Flying Padre chronicles two days in the life of a priest who requires an airplane to reach all of his parishioners, so far apart are they. Annoyingly narrated by Bob Hite (sort of the Troy McClure of his day) with a soundtrack that sounds like leftover music from Leave it to Beaver, the film shows the priest flying to a funeral, settling an argument between a little girl and boy, and, in a very badly staged scene, flies a mother and her sick infant to a hospital. We also get to see the padre eating breakfast and shooting his rifle out on the plains -- guess the airplane alone wasn't enough for nine minutes. Visually there's not much to mention other than that the young Kubrick seems to have favored the low angle shot. There's some halfway decent editing during a takeoff sequence, but no signs of the greatness that was soon to come. Next time: the far superior Day of the Fight.

Contender for most disturbing scene in a 1960's Hollywood film

In 1966, screenwriter George Axelrod (The Seven Year Itch, The Manchurian Candidate) tried his hand at directing. His first feature, Lord Love a Duck is an extremely dark comedy that doesn't completely succeed in what it sets out to do, but is surprisingly frank for the mid-60's. Subtitled "an act of pure aggression", the film does for teen movies of the 60's what Heathers did for those of the 80's. Axelrod describes the film as being against teenagers, parents, cars, schools, religion, beach movies and just about everything else. Roddy McDowell (in his greatest screen role) plays Alan 'Mollymauk' Musgrave, a dangerously intelligent high-school senior who becomes a Mephistopheles of sorts to beautiful classmate Barbara Anne Greene (Filmbrain fave Tuesday Weld). Barbara Anne wants to be a star, and Mollymauk is determined to make it come true, even if it requires mass murder. The performances are top notch, and Weld exudes a genuine innocence that is so vital to the role. The supporting cast (including Ruth Gordon, Martin West, and Lola Albright) also gives it their all, with the exception of Harvey Korman (later brilliant in Mel Brooks' films) who resorts to literally chewing the scenery. The music by Neil Hefti is even better than his infamous Batman theme, and the title song (sung by The Wild Ones) is an infectious bit of psych-pop. Where the film fails is in its story -- while Axelrod's wonderful screenplay contains dialog that's as good as anything else he's written, the story structure is just a bit too episodic, and there's too much of too little. Though his critical gaze extends in many directions, none of the attacks go deep enough. While this might not seem a major criticism, it's what has prevented the film from being universally recognized as one of the great comedies of the 60's. Still, there's quite a lot to like about the film, and Filmbrain has watched it twice in three days. Barbara Anne isn't as calculating as one would expect, and she's the only sympathetic character in this otherwise misanthropic tale. Her desire for fame stems more out of boredom than anything else, and the film is critical of society's unchallenged sense of malaise, and need for instant gratification. The film's final moment, which comes very suddenly, is amazingly effective in that we witness Mollymauk's moment of clarity, forcing us to reconsider what we think and know about him, but by then it's too late -- the credits are rolling.

Though there are many dark elements in the film, there is one particular sequence that Filmbrain is amazed made it into the final cut. In 1966 there were no MPAA ratings -- films such as this one and particularly Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf (also 1966) helped bring about that change. Though no description can compare to actually watching the scene, here's a detailed account with some supporting screen captures. One of Barbara Anne's earliest desires is to be a member of the cashmere sweater club at school. The requirement is to own twelve cashmere sweaters, but Barbara Anne has only an imitation Japanese one made of some modern polymer. Mollymauk figures that if Barbara Anne lays enough guilt on her absentee father (her parents are divorced), he'll buy her the sweaters. The sequence with her father (Max Showalter - the grandfather in Sixteen Candles) begins with the two of them getting worked up into a state of near-ecstasy while wolfing down hot dogs in his car. (What would Freud say?) At the clothing store, Barbara Anne models each of the sweaters for her father, announcing the colors (useful, considering the film is in black and white) which include grape yum yum, pink put-on, and periwinkle pussycat. With each successive sweater her orgasmic moans grow ("Uh! Yes! Yes! Oh god! Yes!") while her father reacts first with maniacal, hysterical laughter, followed by grunts, groans and twisted faces. The scene shifts into a dutch angle, and the final moments consist of quick cuts between the two while the moaning and face contortions continue until the two become one under a pile of cashmere.

Filmbrain is not entirely sure what Axelrod was attempting with that scene. The best guess is that it's a criticism of our need to consume and spend, and how the thrill of doing so has become a pleasure on par with sex. Shopping as the ultimate orgasm. But that doesn't change the fact that it's Barbara Anne and her father in the scene. Filmbrain is open to any and all interpretations, and is willing to admit that his imagination may have wandered too far with this one. Lord Love a Duck was recently released on DVD -- and it's well worth checking out. The disc includes a small featurette on the making of the film, narrated by Axelrod, that's nearly as bizarre as the film. Netflix this one - now!

It wasn't the best of times, it wasn't the worst of times

Filmbrain watched another Korean rom com this week -- that's two in less than seven days -- a worrisome trend. 2003's The Greatest Expectation is certainly not a bad film, but contains way too much for such a simple story. The first half reminded Filmbrain of those 70's rom com caper films like Foul Play or What's Up Doc, while the second half was more like a cloying Julia Roberts vehicle. Chang-sik (Lim Chang-jung) and Mi-young (Kim Seon-ah) are two twenty-something slackers who have nothing going for them. Chang-sik lives with and sponges off his brother and sister-in-law, surviving on free samples at the supermarket, and gambling away what little money he has. Mi-young has dreams of being an actress, but lacks talent. She spends her days with her mother running a tiny video store, all the while worrying about the size of her posterior. Naturally, the two are destined to meet. Literally running into each other one night, the two become witnesses to a hit-and-run accident in which some gangsters run over an elderly gentleman. The bumbling gangsters want nothing more than to make these witnesses disappear, thereby creating the situation that ties the two loafers together (in more ways than one). The chemistry between the two actors is quite nice, but not as convincing as the pair in My Sassy Girl. There is some very sharp dialog that is laugh-out-loud funny, and the comic timing is occasionally masterful. The film suffers from a slight excess of scatological humor, including gags about diarrhea and defecating on a bed. (Do all Korean rom coms feature beautiful young women graphically vomiting?) As good as the two are, it is Yi Shin who steals the show as the maniacal sister-in-law who is fed up with Chang-sik's slacking off. Where The Greatest Expectation goes wrong is in its third act. The gangsters now caught, Filmbrain imagined a few brief scenes to make Chang-sik and Mi-young finally realize how much they need and love each other, followed by a quick fade to black. Yet the film goes on for another thirty minutes or so. There's a case of mistaken identity, a quiz show, and one of those endings where the declaration of love is made in front of hundreds (in this case thousands) of strangers. The type of ending that perhaps works the first time you see it, not the 250th. (Though at the moment, Filmbrain cannot think of a single one. Can anybody assist here?) If the greatest expectation one has of this film is to be entertained, then it will have lived up to its title. Beyond that, there's not much there. Filmbrain will check out a few more Korean rom coms to see if they are all as formulaic, though he's going to need a break. Too much sweetness is bad for the soul.

Four with Pacino for the Fourth

Great news -- The Cinématek at the Brooklyn Academy of Music is holding a wonderful mini-festival over the 4th of July weekend -- four films starring New York's own, Al Pacino. What's particularly exciting is that they will be showing Jerry Schatzberg's Panic in Needle Park (Thursday, 1 July), which Filmbrain has never seen on the big screen. The other films are Sidney Lumet's Dog Day Afternoon (one of the best depictions of a blisteringly hot New York City summer day), William Friedkin's controversial (and slightly bizarre) Cruising, and Brian De Palma's Scarface ("Say hello to my little friend!"). Filmbrain wonders why they didn't rather choose De Palma's Carlito's Way, which would have been more in keeping with the NYC theme. Oh well -- still a great festival. All four films are worthy of the trip out to Brooklyn, even on a hot July night. Plus, it's a perfect excuse to go here afterwards.