The Active Auteur

It is one thing for a director to be considered auteur, something we have thoroughly discussed here. Yet is another thing for said auteur to be active in the process, to consciously and continuously flesh out their work in the public eye. And while the term active auteur is surprisingly new to me, the idea seems only too ingrained in the art world. Unlike business or medicine, where creativity and presentation of personal projects are not a regular part of the job, the artist constantly present themself in their work. However, for every valid interpretation of a piece, for every individual reading and unique viewpoint, there come just as many distorted and unintentional evaluations. This is especially evident in film, where layer upon layer of text can be read to fit the expectations and desires of the audience. Naturally, the audience is composed of hoards of viewpoints, each interpreting and reading the film in a myriad of ways. And while many of these may not be incorrect, the also tend to clutter the filmmakers intentions and can at times dampen the effect. We find this especially evident in cases where the visual content can be challenging and becomes point for discussion thereby ignoring its meaning.

Enter the active auteur, the film author whose participation after the film becomes just as important as his participation in making the film. We have heard countless horror stories about directors who are forced to alter their films because of studio demands or ratings approval, yet it is few and farther between that we hear about the incorrectly evaluated and mis-criticised works. Obviously, the battle between critic and filmmaker will rage until the end of time, evidence of the personal position of interpretation. However, the active filmmaker encourages the viewers to identify with the reading that was intended in the making of the film. It only comes naturally that one who pours their time and energy into a creative and collaborative work of art would want it to be received correctly. Yet at the same time, art is such a personal exploration for both the maker and the viewer. Certainly no director wants to cheat their audience out of experiencing the film as their own. (Ok, we could find a few) And of course, anyone making films does so with the intention that they will be seen, thus finalizing the process.

So then we must ask ourselves, does the given that films are made for an audience negate the desire of the director in helping their reading? In other words, once the film is out, should it be given over entirely to the people it was made for regardless of what afflictions it might garner in the process? Or has the filmmaking process not stopped once the final cut is ready? If this is the case, the creative minds behind the work, who are often willing to engage in talk about its making, must be present and available to present it.

So if we then get more specific, to the auteur whose films bear certain similarities that we have identified and observed, where do we find him and how do we identify him? First, the very notion of the auteur, especially in the self-conscious immersion of the theory today, comes hand in hand with someone who is engaged in their filmmaking practice and would very likely follow through from idea to final evaluation. However, suppose a relatively uninvolved director simply made films, all of the being recognizable in authorship, yet refrained from pulling the oeuvre together as a whole anywhere but the screen. Such a person would either be a recluse or be so incredibly busy that quantity vastly trumped quality. Thus we arrive at a very interesting place in our definition of auteur. For some individuals, this authorship would transcend the screen and arrive in the real world. Of course, this is where it started, the idea of auteur as directorial presence; filmic personality and signature.

Box Office Records

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     Although Gone With The Wind (1939, Victor Flemming) will maintain it's dominating grasp as highest domestically (within the United States) grossing film of all time after adjusting for inflation (With a total of over 1.4 billion dollars Gone With The Wind beat George Lucas' 1977 Star Wars: A New Hope by nearly $180,000,000, according to www.boxofficemojo.com), in recent years we've seen a slew of "Record Breaking" movies hit the box office.

     I first became aware of the power of the box office back in 2005, when Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith threatened to outdo its predecessor A New Hope as highest all-time grossing movie. Seeing it twice on opening day myself (once at the midnight showing, and then again at 9 pm that night) I tried my hardest to contribute to it's record breaking. Of course, the only record it broke was the opening day gross (gaining 50 million in a single day), since people generally realized it wasn't the most amazing spectacle of a movie. But it got me hooked, nonetheless, to following the Box Office, and I became obsessed with knowing more about the history of the Box Office than anyone else I met.

     Since Revenge of the Sith, several more movies have broken that opening day record. Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest, taking off from it's predecessor The Black Pearl drew enough moviegoers to gain just a bit more than Star Wars with a $55 million opening day record. I was sorely disappointed, seeing as how I was more into Star Wars than I was Pirates, but I quickly learned to love Pirates and was the in line for the 12 am showing of At Worlds End (even though it had come out five hours earlier...) hoping it would break it's predecessor's record, with no such luck.
     Spider-man 3 quickly beat that record, earning $59 million opening day, but the movie itself turned out to be another flop, not in the Box office (since it made $890 million worldwide), but the movie itself was despised by most Spider-man lovers, including myself. Spider-man 3 did, however, gross an impressive 151 million dollars over the course of the weekend, earning it the highest grossing opening weekend of all time, beat only by The Dark Knight.
   Here was an impressive feat: The Dark Knight, due partially to it's popularity brought on by the death of its supporting actor Heath Ledger, beat several box-office records and came very close to breaking the one that really counts. Since I was already an avid box-office watcher, I knew The Dark Knight could break the record when the ticket I bought the day before was one of the last of the 12:30 Showings. All the showings for 12:01 were sold out, and most of the 12:30 showings were gone. I knew that this was going to break records.
   In a craze, I watched boxofficemojo.com, waiting for the movie info to be released. Immediately the news was good: at $67 million, $18 million at midnight showings alone, it was the new highest opening day grosser of all time. Then, it was the highest opening weekend grosser of all time at $158 million. It was the fastest movie of all time to make it to $100 million (beat in 2009), and still is the fastest to 200, 300, and 400 million. It currently still holds the record for the top 3 day gross as well as the top 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10 day grosses. By the second week, it was a record breaking movie on several accounts. And the second weekend proved it still had it, earning the highest second weekend gross of all time with $75,166,466!
   I watched closely as the movie made it's way to the second highest domestic grossing movie of all time, rapidly approaching Titanic. Oh how I hated Titanic. With a terrible opening weekend of only $28 million, nobody would have believed that it would continue to gain more than 20 million dollars a weekend for ten straight weekends. But it did, and it that earned it the record of highest all time grossing movie both domestically and worldwide. At 600 million dollars domestic gross, the movie seemed untouchable. And, with an impressive $1.84 billion worldwide gross, I had few hopes that The Dark Knight would smash those records. Unfortunately, The Dark Knight couldn't do it. Just reaching $533 million by the end of its run in America, and cresting $1 billion worldwide before it left theaters for good, The Dark Knight only made it to second place.
     More disappointment was to come when every teenage girl and her mother went to see Twilight: New Moon, giving it a 5 million dollar lead over The Dark Knight at $72 million opening day. This allowed it to become the fastest to $100 million, beating the beautiful Dark Knight. Thankfully, that was as far as it made it. The rest of the weekend proved not so fruitful, and New Moon only made it to 142 million dollars opening weekend, and beat no other records.
     And then came Avatar. People were wary of it. Would a man who hasn't directed a film in over ten years be able to create something as lovable as his previous record-breaker Titanic? Enough people believed in it to push it to 28th on the all-time opening weekends list at $77 million. And then came the rush. Word spread. People flocked. With an astounding turn of events, Avatar completely turned around, earning almost as much its second weekend at $75,617,183, beating The Dark Knight by a mere 450,717 dollars, the new highest second weekend of all time. And it didn't stop there. Avatar continued its winning streak, breaking the third highest weekend of all time, and then the fourth highest weekend of all time, and now the fifth highest weekend of all time, becoming one of only three movies to cross the 500 million dollar mark on MLK day, the 4th day in the 4-day weekend and only 32 days after its release.

     The problem is, Avatar is cheating. Because of the higher cost of 3D, (the need for glasses and the sort) each ticket is costing audiences several dollars more. This cost is setting the movie higher on the charts than most other, non-3D movies would make it. "In 38 days, Avatar's tally stands at $551.7 million, 80 percent of which from 3D presentations (including 16 percent from IMAX venues alone). " states Brandon Gray in Box Office Mojo's weekend report. Everyone expects Avatar to do what Dark Knight couldn't: beat Titanic. Already at $516 million, my prediction is that three, maybe four weeks ahead, the $600 million mark will be crossed, and Titanic will, once and for all, be put to rest after holding the record for twelve years. And, having already surpassed all the films that previously came close to beating Titanic's world-wide record, Avatar will undoubtedly surpass Titanic in no time. It already has an impressive 1.6 billion, only 200 million away from beating James Cameron's predecessor Titanic. Is it really worth it to beat Titanic with a film whose contents are so non-unique? 

UPDATE:

    As of this weekend, Avatar has beat Dark Knight's second place record of $533 million. Earning $34.9 million this weekend, Avatars domestic gross is now $551.7 million, well on its way to beating Titanic's $600.8 million all-time record.
     Another impressive feat on Avatars behalf is its $200 million gain worldwide. The gain wasn't quite enough to push the film above Titanic's $1,842,879,955 worldwide gross, but at $1,838,802,321, my prediction seems to be holding true, Avatar will beat Titanic in a matter of days.

Please Sign Here

Writers’ names, or at least book titles, are often printed on each page. Painters sign their work. Yet after the opening titles and before the closing credits, the director’s name doesn’t appear to mark their work. Film demands the dimension of time, unlike painting, so having a signature appear on the bottom corner of every frame would be distracting and unsightly. Yet as we have established, recognizing a director’s work is not only possible but occasionally very easy. Where, then, does this come from? How can we recognize immediately that so and so made this film? Is it in the stock characters they bring to every story? Is it in the continued use of special effects, witty dialogue, or symmetrical composition? Indeed, it is in all of these. The piece as a whole becomes the author’s signature and allows its viewers to identify it as such.

As stated, I remember my first foray into the world of David Cronenberg. It was marked by moments of combined shock and amazement. Likewise, I remember my first experience with the savage and upfront (in)humanity of Stanley Kubrick in his 1971 film, A Clockwork Orange. It wouldn’t be until years later, in the formal structure of film classes, that I would identify the possibility that their work could carry over film to film. I had certainly seen other entries into each of their oeuvres and recognized the repeated elements; I had simply not put a name with it. Now, being conscious of the relevance of the auteur theory and the practice of observing characteristics of film authorship, I am more curious than ever how exactly we come about labeling the auteur. And how thoroughly their style is stamped into each film.

Is it possible, given a certain film or director, to immediately recognize their presence by watching but a fragment of any part of their film? Or do we require at least a scene, an interaction, to grasp its content? Perhaps obviously, story and thematic elements as well as visual style play a large role. If we want dramatic slow-motion and hard-hitting underworld Englishmen then we will likely turn to Guy Ritchie. But what of the case where we get one over the other? What if a director’s work clearly exhibits his signature visual style in photography and editing but branches off into entirely new thematic areas? Or the reverse, familiar plot elements and values exhibited in an unfamiliar style? Where would such a piece fit into the oeuvre and how immediately do we see the signature?

Considering a filmmaker’s body of work is requisite in discussing their recognizable authorial presence. And sub-standard films can be disregarded. But what of outcasts that don’t suffer in quality? What if a director makes a great film that is far removed from their other great films? On the one hand we could give this as validation of their skill, on the other hand we could condemn it for not being their style. More interestingly, could we identify a director whose films bear no resemblance to any other of their films for this reason? Could a director be more original in every piece to the point that their auteuristic film authorship is characterized by diversity and ingenuity?

I seem to have asked more questions than I have answered, yet artistic credit is of utmost importance. We can agree that both form and content is important in recognizing anyone’s work. And recognizing work and assigning it a place is standard human practice of categorization and organization. And with this comes evaluation, the ranking of particular works I briefly discussed before. Certainly a film that stands out in an artist’s body of work demands attention for its placement and for its displacement. Yet the auteur theory would likely reject such a stray from the norm. It would be forced to abandon the expected signs of authorship and instead observe new ones. Perhaps.

2009

   Last year seemed to me to be a year without a movie. I had no great anticipations for awesome films, and the films that I looked forward to flopped in my mind. There were, however, several surprises: films that either I knew nothing about, or that I poo-poohed after reading the title.
   All-in-all, I went to the theater 28 unique times to watch films, a few short of 2008's personal record of 35. And similar to a post created last year, I can say that I've seen several of the films more than once in theaters, and some of the films again when the came to blu-ray and dvd.
The complete list of 2009's films that I watched (both in theater or at home) follows, the blue being on blu-ray, the red being in the theater, and white on DVD:

Watchmen

Sunshine Cleaning

X-Men Origins: Wolverine

Bella

Star Trek

Terminator Salvation

Angels and Demons

Up

Return to Tarawa

Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen

Moon

Public Enemies

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince

Riff Raff

(500) Days of Summer

District 9

Inglorious Basterds

Zombieland

Paul Blart: Mall Cop

Coraline

Where the Wild Things Are

Paranormal Activity

The Men Who Stare At Goats

2012

Avatar

Up In The Air

Julie & Julia

The Road

Invictus

  The films that stood out among the others were Invictus, Up In The Air, Where the Wild Things Are, Up, Star Trek and Moon. Oddly, the movies that I found the most unique are the independent and drama films, not the action films. For me, a moviegoer who is big into action and adventure, This year was surprisingly better in the drama department. Although Star Trek stood out as one of my favorite films of the year, I can say that Public Enemies was not as good as The Road, nor was Avatar as moving as Where the Wild Things Are. They all have their own unique properties, no doubt, but for a person who owns 99% action films, 2009 was an odd year.
  Gran Torino, one of the years first films (with a limited release in December 2008, and a wide release in January 2009) is comparable to Clint Eastwood's Invictus, starring Morgan Freeman and Matt Damon. There are some issues with poor acting on behalf of some minor characters, the editing was at times confusing in jumping from story to story, and the story itself was riddled with side-stories that helped explain what was happening, but didn't really further the story in any other way.
  This year's sci-fi films, including Star Trek, Watchmen, District 9, and Avatar were a slew of amazing effects put together with some great (and some not so great) stories. JJ Abrams Star Trek revival was a surprisingly fast-paced character and action-driven film, abundant with lens flares. Watchmen was nothing short of 2 Hours and 42 Minutes of story and character development, where the story and characters remained static (a feat worthy of recognition). And District 9 and Avatar, with their similar stories of learning to understand Alien cultures and live with the Aliens both used outstanding visuals to propel both a unique story (in the case of District 9) and a not so unique story.
  Moon and Where the Wild Things Are, two rather outstanding low-budget films, really stood out as some of the best films of the year. Both the cinematography and the acting went hand-in-hand with the beauty of the story and the visual effects for both films.
  George Clooney made his appearance in three mainstream films just in the last 2 months of 2009, in Fantastic Mr. Fox, The Men Who Stare At Goats, and Up In The Air. Unfortunatly I was unable to catch Fantastic Mr. Fox while it was still in the theaters, but I only heard good things from it. Also unfortunate was the lack I felt upon leaving the theater from The Men Who Stare At Goats. But Reitman really showed that he has what it takes in his third film Up In The Air, coming directly from Juno and Thank You For Smoking before it. And Clooney, of course, proves that he has the ability to be more than Ocean from Ocean's Eleven.
  Overall, 2009 was a new year with new movies, and a new appeal for my appetite. Action films have tried hard to maintain their Blockbuster appeal, and although Avatar is looking to be the highest grossing movie of all times (and in record time I might add), the Oscar will go somewhere else as usual this year.

Videodrome and Me

Being the first Cronenberg film to put under my belt, this high school discovery unearthed an immediate fascination with the synthetic/organic nature of the director’s work. The fact that I was not well versed in the b-horror area, nor had I much exposure to the visceral and graphic assaults on the flesh, certainly contributed to Videodrome’s immediate ascension to the heights of my favorite films list. Watching it years later, I found I was able to identify more of the social relevance of the media influence. The psychological and sociological connections would likely elude me until later viewings.

Watching it now, more than 4 years and 1,100 movies later, I find my self no less engaged and no less fascinated with the 27 year old film. Be it the strange breathing VHS, the seamless excursions into fantasy, or the technical mastery of an electronic world fused with the biological, Cronenberg’s story seems a sci-fi nightmare or a unnerving prophecy. Either way, the uncertain discomfort in not knowing the digital world from the real seems even more relevant today than Cronenberg imagines it in the 1980’s. The advanced state of computer image making and visual manipulability only blends the line between the virtual and the actual. And with health concerns from cell phones and similar electronic gadgets, the infectious nature of our own creations may not stray that far from the horrific mental machinations found in this film.

Videodrome also exists on another plane. While my first experiences with it certainly didn’t examine the personal and individual characteristics, repeated viewings have made me notice the character and their existence in the story. Each and every one is tied to the TV, be it as slave, as master, or as sidekick. For some the pleasure is financial, for others it is sexual. But Cronenberg’s creation doesn’t imagine a world where cheap porn and increased viewership demand attention. Rather, this neurotic lifestyle that encompasses everyone onscreen is reflected to everyone looking at the screen. Pleasing our most scopophilic desires we navigate this uncertain and unfamiliar tech/flesh synthesis. The TV has become the retina of the mind’s eye. It’s only scary how true this is becoming and how connected to, nay dependent on technology we have made ourselves.

Who's the Best?

It had been the tendency of the Cahiers du Cinema writers to rate the directors they admired. Such a policy continued with Andrew Sarris after introducing the auteur theory to America. He argued that such a rating system was but a mere extension from the other arts, where we rate certain artist’s works above that of others. Such a practice, for better or worse, has been implemented for many a year and will undoubtedly continue for some time. Yet I wonder, in modern cinema, where do we place those auteurs whose work is relatively consistent in relation to the director who happens to make a wonderful film? Certainly, as the French filmmakers hailed, a great filmmaker can make a bad film without it damaging his reputation. But it seems more than ever that box office results are the main determinate of who gets money.

Beyond this, though, I question the relevance of any ranking system for today’s cinema. First of all, where does one start? If we based rank on how well a film does in the box office or how many Oscars it gets then we negate the very criteria the Cahiers writers applaud. If we, then, consider only a director’s consistency, then we ignore their popular success, their public approval, their demand as an artist contributing to general society. Yet perhaps this is not of importance. Perhaps, the fact that ranks will always contain discrepancies can dispel our need for rankings entirely. At least official ranking that is.

On the other hand, determining the worth of one film over another is often unchallenging. The question we should ask is whether the presence of the film’s author should be considered. Does the fact that it is a Quentin Tarantino film automatically give it more worth than the fact that it is a Zack Snyder film? (Yes, but that is beside the point) No, a film should be based on its individual merit regardless of whose name is stamped onto it. This is, of course, in direct contention with Bazin’s formula.

Author + Subject = Work

With this in mind, let me briefly compare the work of two filmmakers I have recently watched selected works from. American film director Frank Capra had a long lasting Hollywood career characterized by feel good and generally patriotic films about human goodness. Mr. Deeds Goes to Town, It’s a Wonderful Life, and Mr. Smith Goes to Washington being examples here. Compare these works to Canadian filmmaker David Cronenberg whose body horror in Videodrome, The Fly, and eXistenz are a far cry from the light Capra fare. The fact that I have recently viewed a handful of films by these two well-known artists is not the only reason for choosing them. To anyone familiar with these works it becomes obvious how far they are from one another in the filmic kingdom.

The question becomes again, how do we compare these two bodies of work? We could certainly give some points to the longevity of Capra’s work, yet Cronenberg has simply not been around as long and may, with time, out-produce Capra in quantity. On the other hand we may credit Cronenberg for his unique visuals and usually wholly original content. Yet Capra’s themes seem to run wide and shared in our society. My point being that putting one over the other is simply a matter of personal preference. Much like the Cahiers writers, one person’s preference does not always coincide with that of their peers.

This still does not answer my original inquiry. Do we rate a director’s work as more worthwhile when we can tell whose work it is? And more relevantly, do we need to? Maybe the presence of authorship denotes the individual’s continuity and devotion by claiming artistic ownership. It would make sense that we praise those who continue with something to the point that they become proficient. And if this proficiency is measured by their authorial presence, then it only make sense that we admire such a trait. Thus the idea of auteur, regardless of its debated history as a practice or theory, seems not only helpful and fun but important as well.

Another Book

Film Snob- reference term for the sort of movie obsessive for whom the actual enjoyment of motion pictures is but a side dish to the accumulation of arcane knowledge about them

While I would never consider my accumulation of film knowledge paramount in importance to the act of viewing, the so-titled Film Snob’s Dictionary boasts quite an assortment of definitions that are right up my alley. As if amalgamation of senior movie buff and web-trained fanboy, the Snob exists in a state of perpetual acquisition of anything and everything movie related. Written wittily by David Kamp and Lawrence Levi, this dictionary provided a valid introduction to the fringes of filmdom. At times cynical and always accusatory, the writers manage to inject enough film history, trivia, and information to make it an interesting read for cinephile and common citizen alike.

Injected throughout are the occasional cheat sheets to help boost one’s lexicon when talking to a Snob. The most entertaining of these clarifies the distinction between ‘Films’ and ‘Movies’ by stating that Tom Waits will never, ever star in a movie and Tom Hanks will never, ever star in a film. Additionally, the occasional caricature identifies certain personages of relevance. In whole, this book is a quick and appropriately entertaining read as well as an off-hand reference for clarification.

Random Thoughts on Antichrist

The opening sequence of Lars von Trier’s Antichrist is purely cinematic. Extreme slow motion is set to an operatic backdrop rendering passionate intercourse and the death of a child both haunting and beautiful. The unnamed couple lose their only son to an open window during the distraction of sex in what is clearly a carefully orchestrated and conducted introduction to a film the strays greatly from this initial beauty. Trier focuses on the extreme reaction by the mother to the self-blaming death of her child. And while the film sets itself up as a familiar psychodrama of death and grief, we know from the title the more sinister intentions are in store.

After retreating to a cabin buried in the depths of a foreboding and uninviting woods, the therapist husband and distraught wife manage a cohabitation wrought with denied episodes of distraught sexuality and ominous visitations of animal suffering. In all attempt to help his wife heal, he only discovers her inability to care for the child during its life. Evil makes its presence known, if the title of the film didn’t demand it already. But Trier’s film is far from the torture porn and senseless violence of commercial fare. It is even farther from the immature and gawking sexual exploits of college targeted gross-outs. But to consider the film a simple horror film would be to discredit the intensity of its images. The sex and violence, and sexual violence demands more than a casual aside. It is extremely difficult to write of the film without ruining it, but simply put, it has not left my mind and will occupy an uncomfortable place for some time.

Lars von Trier suffered from depression during the making of the film. And if this is any indication of the nauseating and miserable tone achieved, then it comes as no surprise that the film has become both heavily praised and massively criticized. Perhaps it's the director at helm, but more likely the film would have found itself at the top and bottom of lists despite who designed it or when it was made.

The presence of nature is never wholly comforting yet consistently achieves a mesmerizing, at times hypnotic, effect. The distorted and melding landscape obscured by fog, growing in and out of itself, becomes a main player in the film. More than a motif, the roots and branches of the surrounding fauna seem inescapable. Whether they be dirt particles gently falling from the roots of a plant in water or the black branches that deliver blows to a baby bird as it falls to its death, the natural life-giving plants are firmly connected to both sex and death. Beneath the dark and dirty tree of life, he and she copulate in front of the hands reaching out from the roots. It is here, in a fox hole meant for protection, that he repeatedly beats a crow to death only to find its cawing marking its return to life. Much the same, the fox who so pathetically disembowels itself still manages a short and un-pained utterance. What makes this film’s connection to the natural world so interesting is that humans are thrust into its presence and are bombarded by its power at nearly ever moment.

Antichrist is the only film I ever recall being afraid to see. And while my imagined expectations outweighed the final product this in no way suggests said product was tame. The film is fierce in misogynistic viewpoints and blatant in its confusing sexual content. Perhaps the work of the devil demands violence, if so this film is the place. And while the few hours since viewing it have left me perplexed as to my reaction, I can only take this as benefit to the film for developing such intriguing and perplexing content of which I hesitantly want to explore.

Thoughts on the Auteur

In “The Cult of the Auteur” Robert Stam recounts the introduction of the auteur theory to the American public by way of Andrew Sarris. Stam discusses not only the critical reactions to such an idea but the requirements of the theory as well. The article almost instantly becomes a thorough introduction to the theory itself for anyone unfamiliar with how engrained it has become in our modern commercial filmmaking industry. As much as I cringe to admit it, this article was one of my first in-depth looks into the idea of the auteur, or at least specifically by that name. Yet for any one at least minimally familiar with the film industry and the placement of film in our society as a whole, the idea of the auteur seems self-evident.

Countless modern films are marketed by listing the director’s partial filmography in the trailer. The studios seem to understand, and much marketing research likely supports that audiences who like a film will probably enjoy something similar. At times, it becomes a point of pride to identify whose latest film one will see. And much of the time, expectations about upcoming features will be heavily influenced about what creative minds are involved. Even if, in the case of Antichrist, the minds involved have a history of depression preventing work and social obligations from being maintained. This marks our arrival at Lars von Trier, a self-promoting and mentally afflicted Danish filmmaker whose auteurship is far from debated. In this 2009 release, von Trier’s connection to the Dogme 95 collective is self-evident as the main characters interact as if in real life, the camera simply documented their escalating struggles. Certain scenes, whether actually adhering to the strict mandates of Dogme 95, appear natural and unadulterated. Further, Trier, whose often describes as visually distinctive, manages to blend the aforementioned realism with the otherworldly and haunting discomfort of an evil forest.

Yet auteurism is more than each film looking the same. Perhaps an auteur-to-the-extreme would find each and every one of his films a carbon copy of its predecessor. Conversely, Antichrist’s tone suggests a filmmaker in confusion, perhaps disarray. Be it the intense violence without need of graphic accompaniment, the brutal and misdirected sexuality, or the eerily unforgettable horror of the woods, the fact the von Trier suffered from depression while making this film only makes sense. Criticized for blatant misogyny, the film explores the gender relations of countless years in modern context with what seem ancient roots. The film, while in fact having Trier’s name written in uncomfortable handprint, would have his name all over it regardless. What I find interesting here is how the process of filmmaking, as well as the mental processes surrounding it, influences the final product. Immediately evident is that filmmaking is indeed a process, not a simple and immediate product. And, to hammer it further, such a process needs direction or else it will falter and fade. Thus the auteur, the film’s ultimate author, directs this process to his or her preference. The Wizard of Oz notably passed creative hands many times before finally residing with Victor Fleming. Von Trier’s film, conversely, was scripted and envisioned by the director and nothing about the ultimate mood achieved seems to suggest otherwise.

Auteurism, as I understand it, becomes directly linked to he whom most self-exposes in the final product. Film and filmmaker are inextricably linked by common effort and desire. In the end, much the same as any other desire to create something tangible, film succeeds in immortalizing its creator. At least for the moment.

Help the Harbor Theater

Given the increasing presence of the film industry in the state of Michigan, and regardless of such a presence, it is a shame that the Harbor Theater in Muskegon may have to close its doors. Located on Lakeshore Drive, the theater has been run by its current operators for the past two years. With two cozy screens and affordable Senior, student, and member prices, the theater is a sure win without even mentioning the films they show. Here is where the Harbor stands alone, often commanding a better selection in their two or so films per week than the local multiplex with their two dozen per week. From foreign to independent to obscure to conventional, the Harbor make hard to see films available to those who love them.

However, come February, this awesome art house may have to shut down from lack of funds- a complete shame for an area, state, and nation that embraces film. Donations can be made, or at the very least, the last chances to see a film at this venue should be taken advantage of. Any pledges made to this non-profit will be returned if not enough total money is acquired to keep the theater running. Help demand good films in the area by supporting local film screens and promoting excellent filmmaking. Fund raising event on January 30.

The Endurance

One of the most amazing and grueling survival stories is retold in George Butler’s 2000 documentary. This is the same guy that brought us Pumping Iron 1 and 2 and basically introduced us all to Arnold. That aside, this film marks the end of an apparent eleven-year hiatus from filmmaking. Regardless of the fact that this film seems well constructed and visually stunning with its inclusion of historic photographs, the story would be compelling if told over a black screen. Ernest Shackleton’s failed Antarctic endeavor is both devastating and captivating. Well more than a year spent navigating the ice flows of the southern continent, most of the time fighting for survival, did little to dampen his determination and will. In what should have been a tragic misadventure resulting in many deaths was instead a laborious rescue operation resulting in zero deaths.

Butler’s film is at once jaw-dropping and inspiring thanks to Shackleton’s story. This film is a testament to the medium’s ability to capture the power of the human spirit as well as the intensity of the world we occupy. Butler would follow this up with Shackleton’s Antarctic Adventure the next year.

Daybreakers.

In case you were wondering, which you weren’t, we are still alive and our severe lack of posts can be attributed to the inevitable lethargy of the holidays. However, the break being over and the number of films out there only increasing exponentially, I triumphantly declare our idle status over. Daybreakers was first on the menu of new releases. The futuristic high-concept vampire thriller seemed, from the trailers, to be an intriguing and perhaps disguised neo-noir proverb. Unfortunately, the film rather quickly degrades into an unoriginal splatter-fest with shallow characters and only the occasional rewarding moment.

To great benefit, the reason behind most of earth’s population becoming vampires is not given. We are immediately propelled into a vampire-controlled society where blood is served with coffee and windows are blacked-out for daytime driving. The concept of this foreign yet recognizable world is rather fascinating and is available for further exploration. The film, on the other hand, delivers are few novel ideas about how society would function in darkness but spends more time with gory explosions and decapitations. The threat of starvation imminent for the vampire race forces their time and energy into farming the last of the humans and devoting efforts to a blood substitute. To no great surprise for any human viewer, greed and corruption of strong motivating forces for the powers at work. It seems that even if our species become vampires the individualistic and profiteering mindsets will aid our downfall. For many, a substitute is not the answer, only real blood will do. (This appears almost direct antithesis to our society where the questionable ingredients of fast food are the most mass satiating.)

Is Daybreakers worth seeing? Whatever. The concept is quite interesting but it falters in ultimate execution. We could explore the success and failure of its cinematic techniques, the occasional mistimed edit or wonderful framing, or we could interpret cold, dark, sterile futuristic mise-en-scene. But for a film the film caters more to the shock and awe, it hardly seems worth it. I’ll admit much disappointment here.

2009 Movie Mashup

Courtesy of Today's BIG Thing comes a mash-up of many films from the year past. The video as a whole does little to create a cohesive piece and, aside from the occasional graphic match or dialogue continuation, is a hodge-podge of popular films. None the less, it is a good checklist for determining just how thourough one's yearly movie watching has been. Enjoy.