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Filmbrain's (brief) reaction to the Academy Awards

Filmbrain's inbox was flooded today with emails from friends and readers curious about his thoughts on Million Dollar Baby sweeping the Oscars. Beyond a personal dislike for the film (an extreme one at that), it does seem to prove, once again, that the idea of "liberal Hollywood" is little more than a myth. That a film as reactionary as Million Dollar Baby could walk away with nearly all the major awards is a bit disconcerting. [Warning - spoilers follow.] A film full of contempt for the poor and working class (including the most offensive white-trash caricatures to grace the silver screen in some time), who are depicted as welfare cheats and gold-diggers. A film that has black thugs at the gym who beat up an intellectually challenged character who was himself the butt of jokes for a good portion of the film. Let's not forget the villain -- a former East German prostitute -- once a godless communist who sold her body for money, now the dirtiest of fighters. Then there's the handling of the moral dilemma that the film offers -- Clint has one quick conversation with a priest, sheds a few tears, and then decides he has to take matters into his own hands, much as he did back in his Dirty Harry days. (Which, as the Times of London recently pointed out, Pauline Kael attacked for its "remarkably single-minded attack on liberal values".) And what does the film say about women? That even when strong, they are helpless without a man -- they can't even die without them. (Do we really need another film where a man's redemption comes through the death of a woman?)

But this isn't the first time Hollywood rallied behind a right-wing film that gave the appearance of being leftist. Forrest Gump, anyone?

Now, Filmbrain needs to get back to his (terribly overdue) Berlinale reviews -- there are at least another fifteen films he wants to write about. . .

Berlinale Diary - The Sun (Solntse)

Alexander Sokurov's The Sun (Solntse), the third film in his planned tetralogy about the downfall of powerful leaders/tyrants, details the life of Emperor Hirohito in the days following the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, including the events that led to his radio address in which he asked his nation to surrender, and gave up his divine status. Though a logical follow-up to Moloch (which was about Hitler) and Taurus (Lenin), Sokurov here creates a far more sympathetic view of the Emperor than he did of the other two subjects. (Curiously enough, the fourth film in the series is going to be an adaptation of Goethe's Faust.) The first thing one notices is the way in which Sokurov portrays Hirohito. Shown as a timid, simple character, he comes off more like a Japanese Chauncey Gardiner than a descendent of the sun goddess Amaterasu -- his insular, isolated life left him unprepared for something like this. Set in a modest laboratory building (the imperial palace damaged by bombings), the early part of the film details his daily rituals, and shows him as a man dedicated to both science and art -- he spends time in his marine biology lab studying a crab, and later is shown writing poetry -- while outside his nation lies in ruin. It's only when he meets with General MacArthur that we get a sense of the man's role in the war that has just ended. Though the leaders of several nations wanted the Emperor to be prosecuted by military tribunal, MacArthur, after meeting with Hirohito, recommended that he not be tried as a war criminal. His willingness to accept responsibility for the actions of the Japanese government, along with his declaration that he is not a god, but merely a man, saved countless lives of soldiers willing to fight until the bitter end. It is this decision that Sokurov seems to be fascinated with. In both Moloch and Taurus, Hitler and Lenin do nothing to help the tragic situations that they themselves created -- quite the opposite in fact. As Sokurov said recently, "The Japanese Emperor Hirohito is a symbol of a constructive finale or, more accurately, not a finale but a continuation -- of life." Still, The Sun seems more of a personal drama than a political one. Issey Ogata, better known for his comedic talents, is wonderful in the lead role, especially in the slight gestures and mannerisms that allow us to see him as plainly human. While those in his employ are literally unable to stand seeing their Emperor treated as a common individual, he seems more than willing to do what is asked of him. When confronted with American photographers for the first time, their reaction is to comment how he reminds them of Charlie Chaplin. Though his Chamberlain is horrified, Hirohito stops and asks the photographers "Do I really look like this actor?" (Earlier, we saw him looking with admiration at photos of other Hollywood stars -- he might consider the Chaplin comment a compliment.) Near the end of the film, Hirohito learns that the man who recorded his speech committed suicide shortly after the taping -- and it is at this precise moment that we see recognition of all he was responsible for. A powerful moment that Ogata handles with perfection. With its dim lighting and muted colors, The Sun resembles several other Sokurov films, though he may have overdone it a bit. The first third is so very dark, that some in the theater felt there was a projection problem. Shot by Sokurov himself (interesting, considering his vision problems), the entire film consists of shots that are constructed with fine precision, and camera movement is kept to a minimum. The dialog with MacArthur is wonderful, though Robert Dawson plays him with a warmth and kindness than we usually don't associate with old "Dugout Doug". It's hard to imagine what impact the film will have in Japan (should it ever play at all). Will people be offended by his playfulness, or his almost childlike simplicity, or will they appreciate the special human nature that Sokurov found so impressive in Hirohito? Though more straightforward than the other two films in the tetralogy, The Sun is still not for everyone -- many will find the pacing excessively slow. However, as a longtime fan of Sokurov, Filmbrain can easily rank this as one of his best. Neither Moloch nor Taurus has ever been officially released in the States -- one can only hope The Sun fares a better chance.

Filmbrain's Screen Capture Quiz: Round 3, The Winners!

That only about three dozen of you could correctly identify last week's quiz as coming from Robert Downey's (Sr., not Jr.) Putney Swope is cause for concern -- if you haven't seen what is easily one of the greatest satires on celluloid (and still remarkably poignant) then do so as soon as possible. It is an incredible film -- easily in Filmbrain's top fifty of all time. (Maybe this should be the prize for Round 4. . .) Well, Filmbrain has manually tabulated the results for Round 3, a task that took far longer than anticipated. We have winners for both first and second place, but a tiebreaker is required for third. Round 2 winner Aaron H once again walks away with the grand prize (any three DVDs from the Zeitgeist Films catalog), having scored twelve out of a possible fourteen (including bonus points). Second place (any two DVDs) goes to Matthew C, better known in the film-blog world as the man behind the great Esoteric Rabbit Films, with a total of eleven points. Great job, both of you! For third place, there is a many-way tie of people with ten points -- too many to list here. Quizzes will continue until there is a clear victor. Bear in mind that the contest is still open to everybody -- should none of the ten-pointers manage to guess the next quiz, somebody from behind can easily overtake the lead. The first tiebreaker quiz will appear next week -- Filmbrain is DVD-less in Germany. . .

Berlinale Diary - More reviews. . .

On Sunday, the final day of the Berlinale, Filmbrain treated himself to one last film -- a screening of Kubrick's Barry Lyndon. Ahhh...sweet bliss. Just enough time at the moment for one quick review: Ghosts (Gespenster), Germany An incredibly frustrating film. Though there's much to admire about director Christian Petzold's languid pace and the way he tells this dual-edged story, it completely falls flat on its face in the third act. Nina (Julia Hummer) is a troubled teenager -- having spent most of her childhood in and out of various foster homes, she's now an aimless drifter. Enter the beautiful Toni (Sabine Timoteo), who Nina first sees being brutally beaten by two men in a park. A fast friendship occurs, and in the course of a single day, the two will steal from people and department stores, audition for a television program, and make-out a lot. Meanwhile, Francoise is making her annual trek to Berlin to look for her child that was abducted many years ago. Could Nina be that child? The relationship that develops between Nina and Toni begins plausibly enough (somewhat), but that it ends with them sleeping together in the home of a filthy rich and sleazy TV producer is gratuitous, and reeks of Eurotrash-cinema. (It makes one appreciate a film like Secret Things even more.) At the same time, the actions of Francoise and her husband do little to give the film a satisfactory conclusion. Filmbrain is a fan of Petzold -- his last film, Wolfsburg, was very effective in its simplicity, but this one seems rather pointless. My Summer of Love, also seen at the festival, was a far better film about the budding relationship between two young women. Perhaps this tainted Filmbrain's opinion somewhat.

Berlinale Diary - The Winners

Though Filmbrain has fallen far behind in his reviews of films seen at the festival, he thought he'd share his thoughts on the winners, announced not long ago. The Golden Bear went to Marc Dornford-May's U-Carmen eKhayelitsha, which is Bizet's opera set in a modern-day South African township. Filmbrain missed this one, and is surprised by its win, as there wasn't that much buzz around it during the week. Many were convinced that one of the politically themed films would walk away with the top prize. The Silver Bear went to Peacock (Kong Que), the debut film from cinematographer Gu Changwei (who has worked with both Robert Altman and Chen Kaige). Set in mainland China during the 1970s, the film tells the often-sad tale of a family with three troubled children. Though it has all the makings of a "festival movie" (more on that later), it succeeds in telling a tale that is neither maudlin nor contrived. Given the setting, one would expect the Cultural Revolution to play a big part in the story, but it doesn't -- it stays focused on the family and their various problems. Gu is a master cinematographer, and every shot in the film is simply perfect, without ever calling too much attention to itself. A thoroughly enjoyable, quiet film that truly was one of the better films in competition. The Silver Bear for Best Director went to Marc Rothemund for his film Sophie Scholl - The Last Days. Not a huge surprise, as the film has been receiving almost unanimous praise from the press -- both local and international. Filmbrain would have rather seen Tsai Ming-liang take the prize, but Rothemund isn't a bad choice. (Far better than many of the other films in competition.) The Silver Bear for Best Actress went to Julia Jentsch for her role in the film Sophie Scholl - The Last Days. A fair win -- she's on-screen nearly the entire film, and there are some subtle nuances to her performance that really are impressive. The Silver Bear for Best Actor went to Lou Taylor Pucci for his role in the film Thumbsucker. Filmbrain arrived too late at the festival to catch this one, so he can't comment on it. There was much talk about Romain Duris' performance in Jacques Audiard's The Beat That My Heart Skipped (which was outstanding) -- many were comparing it to DeNiro's performance in Mean Streets. (More on this film to come. . .) The Silver Bear for Outstanding Artistic Contribution went to Tsai Ming-liang for his screenplay of The Wayward Cloud. Very impressive, especially when you consider that there is virtually no dialog in the film. (Would love to see what one of his screenplays looks like.) The Silver Bear for Best Film Music went to Alexandre Desplat for the music in the film The Beat That My Heart Skipped. Other awards worth noting: The Alfred Bauer Prize (named in memory of the Berlinale's founder), which is awarded to a film that "takes the art of film in a new direction" went to Tsai Ming-liang's The Wayward Cloud. Had to be. No other film in competition came even close to meeting that criterion. The FIPRESCI Prize (International Film Critics Association) for best film in Competition also went to The Wayward Cloud. The NETPAC Prize (Network for the Promotion of Asian Cinema) went to Lee Yoon-ki's This Charming Girl. Both Amnesty International and the readers of the Berliner Morgenpost chose Paradise Now as the best film at the festival. Filmbrain is still angry about missing this one. The film follows two Palestinians -- longtime friends who are now both about to become suicide bombers. A film that has ignited a fair amount of controversy -- hopefully someone will be brave enough to distribute it in the States. With the festival coming to an end tomorrow, Filmbrain should find himself with more time to catch up on all the films he's seen, as well as some overall thoughts on this year's Berlinale.

Berlinale Diary - The Wayward Cloud

Much of the buzz overheard all over the festival today is about Tsai Ming-liang's The Wayward Cloud (Tian bian yi duo yun), which had its premiere yesterday. There seems to be a split right down the middle, and for every "disgusting", "sexist", and "vile" there are equal portions of "daring", "brilliant", and "masterpiece". Though masterpiece might be too high a praise, the film certainly stands out amongst other competition films -- many of which are plain, simple, festival movies.

As mentioned earlier, the film is a quasi-sequel to Tsai's 2001 film, What Time is it There? The Wayward Cloud finds Shiang-chyi (Chen Shiang-chyi) returning to Taiwan from Paris (big suitcase and all). She coincidentally meets up with former watch seller Hsiao-kang (Lee Kang-sheng), and the two begin a relationship. What Shiang-chyi doesn't realize is that Hsiao-kang is now working as an actor in porno films, which are being made in the apartment upstairs from her.

At the same time, Taiwan is in the midst of a terrible drought, and much of Shiang-chyi's time is spent collecting plastic bottles of water from wherever she can find them. (The exact opposite of The Hole, where it was non-stop rain.) The local government is pushing watermelon on the people, telling them to drink the juice as an alternative to water.

Many of Tsai's signature themes are at work here -- alienation, the inability for people to connect, loneliness, etc. Dialog is kept to a minimum -- there are probably less than ten lines in the entire film -- yet as always Tsai manages to say so much without words. As incredible as it is to watch Shiang-chyi and Hsiao-kang's relationship develop non-verbally, the meaning behind their actions (and reactions) during the final sequence is not entirely clear, or at least open to debate. (Surely this is exactly as Tsai intended, hence all the discussion today.)

The film also contains several musical sequences, with characters lip-syncing to Chinese pop songs of the 60s, as he did in The Hole, though they are far more lavish here, with most having a porno theme to them. Fun, light-hearted moments (catchy tunes, too) that leave you unprepared for what follows.

In the press conference, Tsai stated his position as pro-erotic, but anti-pornography, which he finds mechanical and without feeling. Though this is evident in the film, it doesn't fully explain what his intentions were with the ending. Disturbing in its own right, it's made all the worse when you consider this film as a continuation of What Time is it There? So upsetting was it, that for a while Filmbrain felt as if Tsai had betrayed his audience. This isn't the case of course, but so strong were his feelings during the sequence. An ending one would expect to find in a Gaspar Noé film, but not one from Tsai Ming-liang. (Speaking of which, not since Irreversible has Filmbrain felt physically ill while watching a film -- it probably didn't help matters that he was sitting in the third row.) There was much nervous laughter from the audience during those final moments, which, while understandable, made the whole experience even more disturbing.

The Wayward Cloud is an incredibly rewarding experience, and the best film in Competition that Filmbrain has seen. It might not be as perfect a film as What Time is it There?, but it's close. It's a shame that so few other films in competition are as challenging as this one.

Now let's see if anybody picks this up for distribution in the States. This is a film that simply must be seen. You'll never think of watermelon the same way again.

Berlinale Diary - 4

Stop press: Bob Weinstein trods on Filmbrain's foot. Filmbrain is still awaiting apology. Seen around the festival: Kevin Spacey, sporting his Mao Tse-tung/Greek fisherman look, and Daniel Day-Lewis, sporting his Nova Scotia painter/Greek fisherman look. And poor jury member Bai Ling -- one wardrobe malfunction after another. . . No time at the moment for a full update, but without a doubt the most uncomfortable, disturbing film that Filmbrain has seen at the Berlinale is Tsai Ming-liang's latest, The Wayward Cloud. A final fifteen minutes that had the packed theater squirming and fidgeting. This sequel (of sorts) to What Time is it There? begins as a typical Tsai film, but then goes to places that Tsai has never ventured to before. An incredible experience. More later. . .

Filmbrain's Screen Capture Quiz: Round 3, Week 12

Here it is -- the final screen capture quiz for round 3. As this was prepared before Filmbrain left for Berlin, he can't comment on the responses to last week's quiz, which came from the early (and wonderful) Todd Haynes film, Dottie Gets Spanked. Check back next week for the results and/or any tiebreakers. As always, send your guesses to this address. Good luck!

Berlinale Diary - 3

In the midst of another busy day of film viewing, Filmbrain had the pleasure of spending an hour with David Hudson of Greencine -- the man who (daily) directs us to anything and everything worth knowing in the film world. (He truly has one of the best possible jobs.) His daily dispatches from the festival are a must-read. Another four film day -- two excellent, and two mediocre. This Charming Girl, Korea This debut feature from Lee Yoon-ki heralds the arrival of a new and truly independent voice in Korean cinema. A quiet, restrained, psychological portrait of a female postal worker who lives an uneventful, isolated life. With only the barest minimum of dialog, Lee manages to create an incredible in-depth character study. Is Jeong-hae lonely, depressed, or psychologically damaged? Lee takes his time revealing information about her past, but the film isn't about some great secret -- it rather allows us to see, in great detail, how Jeong-hae has chosen to deal with her situation. (This is actress Kim Ji-soo's first film, and it's a powerful yet subtle performance.) Like Hong Sang-soo before him, there are influences of European cinema in Lee's work, yet his approach is very much his own. Yes, Great Britain Sally Potter's latest film is a fascinating piece of intellectual candy, and easily Filmbrain's favorite of the Berlinale so far. Wrapped around a very simple plot about a married Irish-American woman having an affair with a Lebanese surgeon are incredible ideas about the politics of race, identity, xenophobia, religion, love, and cleanliness. Joan Allen (known only as 'she') lives in London and is trapped in an unhappy marriage to Sam Neil. She meets 'he' (Simon Abkarian), and there is an immediate attraction. Though happy when with each other, they can't escape the cultural, racial, social, or political barriers between them. The dialogs between he and she are so chock full of ideas, you feel you must see it again to absorb it all. Plus, the entire film is in iambic pentameter, and the rhyming patterns are wonderful. Never preachy or pretentious, Yes at times plays out like a far more interesting (and intelligent) Before Sunset. Much, much more to say about this one. . . For the Living and the Dead (Eläville ja Kuolleille), Finland A happily married couple meets with tremendous tragedy -- the death of their youngest son in a horrible fire. Rather than tug at our heartstrings with the story, director Kari Paljakka chooses instead to focus on the three remaining family members and how each one individually deals with the death in the first year after the accident. The film is based on a true event, and the director worked with the actual family for two years on the screenplay. Though the performances are strong (especially by Hannu-Pekka Björkman as the father), the director keeps everything at too far an emotional distance, and as a result the film is a bit cold. (Still, better this than a non-stop manipulative weepy.) There are virtually no scenes of the family pulling together to try to overcome their grief. Each one takes steps they deem necessary to work through the tragedy on their own, with the father's being the most severe as he blames himself for both the accident, and for not being able to save the boy. Not a bad film, just lacking in feeling, especially when considering the subject matter. World's End/Girlfriend (Sekai no owari), Japan Kazama Shiori's small, low-budget film has a wonderful indie look and feel to it, yet the story is more suited to a mainstream rom com. Sinnosuke and Haruko have been friends since childhood, and she often turns to him for help when her relationships fail. Though he's more than happy to be a shoulder to cry on, he also finds himself falling in love with her. Can friends ever become lovers? A question that's been asked (and answered) in countless films, and though there is some charm to Kazama's story, there are no surprises. The few comic moments (which are quite funny) aren't enough to sustain this conventional romance.

Berlinale Diary - 2

The rain has turned to snow, the temperature has dropped. Perfect weather to spend all day (and night) inside a movie theater. Films seen on Sunday: Sophie Scholl - The Last Days (Die Letzten Tage), Germany One of the most highly promoted films in competition, Marc Rothemund's film focuses on the final days in the life of Sophie Scholl, member of the White Rose, a student group active in spreading anti-Hitler leaflets around Munich during WWII. This isn't the first film on the subject (1982's The White Rose), nor is it the last (Christina Ricci is meant to be playing Sophie Scholl in an upcoming project), but it does approach the material in a unique way. Rather than focus on the activities of the White Rose, the film instead covers her final six days, and exclusively from her perspective. The majority of the film consists of lengthy interrogations between Sophie and a police inspector (Alexander Held, in a truly phenomenal performance). These scenes are beautifully written and directed, and Julia Jentsch plays the role just right, never once overdoing it. Though the outcome is well known, Rothemund still manages to build some tension with the interrogation scenes, but overall the film breaks no new ground. It certainly works on an emotional level, but is there any more to it? Filmbrain needs to think about this one a bit longer before he can properly review it. Spring (Vesna), Russia Vesna is a Russian film from 1947, shown as part of the Retrospective series on great Production Design. A very odd film -- a musical comedy with a heavy dose of Soviet propaganda in it. Actress Lyubov Orlova plays dual roles in this film within a film (with some nice special effects to this end) -- as both a prissy scientist studying solar energy, and a singer-actress who happens to look just like the scientist. A director wishes to make a film about the scientist, but she wants nothing to do with it. Through a series of coincidences, he meets Shatrova, a singer-actress who winds up getting the part as the scientist. The film turns into a comedy of errors as the two women are forced to trade places, thereby confusing (while at the same time enlightening) the men in their lives. A lighthearted film that does include some wonderful set design and gorgeous cinematography, including a sequence of Moscow at dusk that is breathtaking. The Dying Gaul, USA This is the debut film from screenwriter/playwright Craig Lucas (writer of The Secret Lives of Dentists). A little film that packs quite a punch, thanks, in part, to its cast -- Campbell Scott, Peter Sarsgaard, and Patricia Clarkson. What begins as a simple story about a screenwriter (Sarsgaard) being coerced to compromise his vision by a slick producer (Scott) turns into an unexpected dark psychodrama that is quite brutal. Though it wears its morality on its sleeve, this is still a pleasant surprise, and the kind of indie film we need more of. The film's producer was on hand for a Q&A after the screening, and several audience members took him to task for his particular interpretation of the film (which Filmbrain also disagreed with). A far cry from the insipid questions usually asked at the New York Film Festival Q&A sessions. Red Desert, Italy Um....er...well...Filmbrain has now learned (the hard way) the difference between the Berlinale Palast and the Filmpalast. An incredibly stupid mistake. . .