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Saturday, 20 October 2012

Info Post

In an attempt to disconnect myself from the ravening, insatiable maw of the  online-film-community, I've opted to drop off of twitter and several message boards.  I even let the blog go dark for awhile, hoping to realign my perception of exactly what the hell it is I'm doing with this ridiculous thing.  Of late, I'm becoming unreasonably upset with the prevailing group-think/predictable consensus opinions toward many films and actors that is radically divergent from my own.  I'm also starting to feel stressed out by the pressure to immediately cement my thoughts on recently viewed movies.  I'll freely admit that my perceived content production standards were entirely a figment of my internet addled brain and in no way indicative of any demonstrably sizable interest in my writing.  It's distressingly easy to get wrapped up in this malarkey and delude yourself into thinking you're some sort of arbiter of taste or sought-after cinematic pundit.  The bottom line is, I was having much difficulty enjoying films as I was spending the entire run-time thinking what I was going to write about them.

I have something of a neurotic, obsessive personality.  If you need concrete evidence of my unfortunate psychological peccadilloes look no further than me working out so hard 14 months ago I literally killed myself .  I was beginning to feel a wearying fatigue toward film appreciation and chose to disentangle myself from the absurd notion of being a critic who had to expand his brand.  I fear I got away from the stated intent of this blog, which was to express myself creatively through writing about and dissecting film from the vantage point of an enthusiastic admirer of the medium.  So, in the interests of rediscovering my former zeal, I'm doing away with the shilling and the tireless efforts to conform to a recognizable format or generate content according to a self-imposed timeline.  I won't be linking this stuff anywhere, so those of you who check regularly (Hi Dad!) and continue to read, I thank you and hope you enjoy.  Now, on with the neurotic irritations and recent movie musings.


I'd like to begin in earnest by addressing the aforementioned "consensus opinions" that have so rankled me of late.  They are varied and many, but all seem to have their genesis in the snotty reception The Dark Knight Rises and Prometheus received earlier this summer from the bulk of critics and vocal online blowhards.  The tiresome, grating pontificating and nitpicking that accompanied their release and subsequent theatrical runs has been about more than I can take.  These are two visually resplendent films replete with subtext and meaning.  They have emotionally powerful moments, unforgettable performances and a reverent approach to old school film making.  They revel in the tried and true approach of realizing astonishing imagery with gargantuan sets, jaw dropping practical effects and stuntwork, and in the case of TDKR, even going so far as to assemble thousands of extras to make its climax appropriately and authentically epic.  Yet people couldn't stop finding things to complain about for both films.  I'm fine with folks pointing out an inconsistency here and there, but to categorically label these films as failures and accuse their directors of incompetence or "phoning it in" is inexcusable coming from purported "film fans".  The artistry on display and sheer entertainment in these two films vastly exceeds what we've come to expect from summer blockbusters and they should be judged accordingly.

It's all the more upsetting considering how these same people unashamedly fawned over and prostrated themselves before The Avengers.  The Avengers is a lot of fun and a clever, diverting amusement, but ultimately has no lasting impact.  It's essentially a bunch of movie stars smirking and delivering (again, very clever) one liners until the computer graphics rendering crew takes over.  It's a weightless, frothy affair, entirely devoid of stakes, drama or emotion.  It never bothered to create a world outside its brightly attired superhero's, so when the clearly fake city is being destroyed by a clearly fake and totally nondescript alien menace, it's awfully hard to care.  You just let your jaw go slack and smile numbly as all the cartoons briskly fly about.  Marvel's The Avengers was about as callous as studio franchise building gets.  Sure, it was fun and entertaining, but nothing more.  It leaves no impact and has no cultural or artistic relevance other than to set up a slew of sequels. Ridley Scott and Christopher Nolan were telling huge, important stories that meant the world to them and investing the type of effort and care rarely seen in big budget film making and they were mercilessly ridiculed and reviled for it.   Watching the online film-nerd contingency ruthlessly tear into those films made me feel like Morgan Freeman in Se7en when he said, "I don't understand this place anymore."


Speaking of not understanding things, 2012 was the year that bore witness to the ascendancy of 2 of the lamest "movie stars" I've ever seen.  Apparently dazed by the pummeling onslaught of product churned out by Channing Tatum and Joseph Gordon Leavitt, America finally relented and bought into them.  I will never understand the appeal of these two vapid pretty boys.  Essentially a couple of walking career moves, these dudes in my eyes have no presence, no charisma and have thus far offered no indication of acting talent.  Tatum isn't even good looking for Christ's sake!  He's cross eyed and has a bizarre, disproportionate physique.  I don't get how women were sold on him as a sex symbol, it must be that they like his silly dancing or something.  I'm immune to that however and found nothing else worth applauding in 21 Jump Street, which I felt was a vulgar, lazy chore of a film.  G.I. Joe 2 being postponed to add that bonehead back in forever precluded any potential goodwill.


As far as JGL is concerned, well, fuck that guy.  He's like a fame and accolade starved acting robot assembled in the bowels of a high school drama club.  Now, through sheer force of unholy will, he's broken out into the big time.  Loosed upon the earth to wear tiny clothes and perpetually flash his rictus grin on an endless succession of red carpets.  He's all jazz hands and breathless dance numbers  practiced a million times into the mirror.  He's so cloying and desperate to play the big boy actor game, his intensity comes across totally forced and entirely false.  I mean, as much as I loved TDKR, JGL was wretched in it and dragged the film down into featureless anonymity every time he was onscreen.  But Looper was the straw that broke the camels back for me. This is where my ultimate separation with the film-lover generation one age bracket beneath me has finally occurred.  If you dudes in your early 20's really think Looper is some sort of thoughtful, deep and profound Sci-Fi masterpiece on the level of Kubrick's 2001, we just don't see the world the same way.


I walked out of Looper to be bluntly honest.  It was so vacant and ugly and dull as to be impenetrable.  I made it an hour and 20 minutes in before I'd had enough of looking at JGL in clownish makeup making idiotic faces while supposed auteur Rian Johnson ripped off Time-Cop.  I simply couldn't believe how awful it was considering the masturbatory praise it had been receiving from all corners of the critical community.  My good friend I went to see it with turned to me about 20 minutes before we left and whispered "this is sooooo boring".  I was infinitely relieved I wasn't the only one that felt this way.

 It struck me as a film that thought it was about fate and relationships made by someone who didn't know jack shit about either.  With the simplistic romance it imbues its ugly, meaningless world with, it's no wonder kids in their early 20's are eating it up.  The movie plays at the complicated notions of love and responsibility without exploring or even considering their complexity in any valid way.  We're supposed to care about Willis' wife because we saw a couple of slo-mo flashbacks where she never spoke?  I'm invested in him saving her life cause they laid in a hammock once?  That's not a relationship, that's a placeholder photograph in a frame store.  Looper is about as deep as a mud puddle and the action sucks.  I guess I'd rather be a fuddy-duddy with outdated, uncool opinions than pretend I found anything remotely tolerable about this pile of celluloid excrement.


Thankfully, The Master did not disappoint in the slightest.  If anything, it exceeded my expectations and was a vastly more entertaining and intellectually rewarding experience than even I had hoped for.  It had the stylistic distance and emotionally aloof feel of There Will Be Blood, but injected the template with more psychological depth and a great deal of off-kilter humor.  There simply will not be a better performance this year than Joaquin Phoenix's work as Freddie Quell.  I've not seen an actor disappear into a role this frighteningly since DeNiro in Raging Bull.  It truly is uncanny how wholly he inhabits this animal, this creature, this undiluted essence of male rage and wandering desire.  Still, P.S. Hoffman matches him beat for beat as the gregarious, bullshit spewing blowhard Lancaster Dodd.

 Each man is the unresolved equation of the other, their story the great film romance of the year.  They both see what they wish to attain in themselves in each other, but are too painfully self aware to buy into the others lifestyle completely.  It's a film of awkward introspection and unresolved questions.  A lingering, pained realization of the limits of understanding and the hollow nature of meaning, no matter how ferociously or meticulously you go about searching for it.  The film is so masterfully shot, scored, acted and written, it's no wonder I found Looper to be such an affront to the art form when viewed in its wake.  Alternatingly hilarious, heartbreaking, upsetting, life affirming and life negating, The Master is a towering, singular achievement.  The kind of film I'll need to watch many times over many years to firmly grasp and sufficiently articulate my appreciation of. 

Sinister was a well made, moderately effective slice of horror.  Ethan Hawke was quite good and the Christopher Young score is a moody masterwork, but ultimately it was so exhaustingly over plotted and generally predictable as to be more wearying than anything.  I can't fathom ever revisiting it.  I also can't imagine sitting through Frankenweenie again having barely made it through the initial viewing.  I enjoyed the first 20 minutes or so, but the film quickly runs out of plot and point, becoming all pointless homage and predictable design.  I'm looking forward to Silent Hill Revelations and the Halloween season, fraught with revisiting familiar films and waxing nostalgic.  Thanks for reading.

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