Between the Folds (2008)

     There’s much more to origami than the simple folded crane that the expert paper folders in this film must consider to be an outdated cliché.  For slightly less than an hour Vanessa Gould explores the depths of papers folding, traversing its real world application from its artistic beginnings.  ‘Life itself is folded’ becomes the hypothesis whether or not Gould started out with such intentions.  The budding leaves of a tree, even DNA itself can be recreated with squares of paper.
    Unless one partakes in the origami world, it is unlikely that they realize the old and new school mindsets exist even here.  The old folders have crafted their art for years, learning from one another and mainly from experience.  The younger generation is computer savvy and uses the underlying algorithms to aid in complicated constructions.  Their obsession is with complexity; the more folds the better.  And they are impressive indeed, two foot long dragons with a thousand scales, life like human figures, and of course animals.  One old folder’s interest can be found at the other end of the spectrum; simplicity.  He creates abstract designs with only a fold or two and is not concerned with the realism of the object.  How can a paper elephant even be realistic?
    We meet a folder whose hour-long creations produce movement; spinning like a top or popping in and out.  Manipulation of a 2-D plane allows it to exist in two additional dimensions.  We also meet a genius.  A boy with ponytail and glasses, taught and trained by his father with ponytail and glasses, who together solved an old problem; which shapes can be made by folding a paper and then making one single straight cut?  The answer: all of them.  But the boy’s interest lies not in folding papers, that is a hobby, he is more interested in real world applications like the folding of an airbag that results in the most logical and flat design.
    The mathematics involved in origami range from the simple to the complex, numerous professors have started using paper folding to teach.  It may sound absurd that something so simple as a paper frog that hops could hold answers to bigger questions about life.  But after all, folding is a unique property not inherent to all things, and as such, it can tell us much.  In this documentary that demands and deserves to be twice as long, Gould explores the nature of life as materialized in the art of paper folding.

Look (2007)

     The concept is great; construct a narrative entirely from surveillance camera footage.  The execution is quite good; overlapping storylines captured only from cameras that could actually capture such activities.  The acting leaves a bit to be desired and is really the only thing stopping this little film from being flawless.
    The film starts with assertive white font on a black background.  It informs us as to how often we are captured on cameras- 200 times daily- and how much surveillance footage is accumulated from the countless robotic eyes watching our actions.  It is a film that could only be set in the present.  Someday, its meager concept will be tame as everyone has their own reality show and 15 hours of fame.
    It should, if anything, be an eye-opening reminder of how public our lives are whether we intend them to be or not.  The opening shot is within a department store dressing room as two nymphets undress and the face-to-face mirrors reflect into infinity.  Their actions are then monitored as they navigate the store, the entire mall, and then back into a car as they exit the parking lot.  Public space is aptly named.  The cameras continue to observe as one of the underage girls seduces her reluctant teacher.  His arrest is captured by an eager student’s phone.  Or we see a set of candid camera killers whose crimes are preserved by ATM cameras and police car dashboards.  They are eventually identified by a keyboard playing stoner who works at a gas station.
    The great success of the film is undoubtedly its social relevance.  Candid camera and reality TV shows depend on the audiences’ inherent voyeuristic qualities.  Laura Mulvey must be salivating with the prospects of discussing Adam Rifkin’s 2007 film and the ripe cornucopia of scopophilia it offers.  If it were real, we would know the subjects were unaware of our presence.  But alas it is not, and the acting alerts us that the characters know they are being watched and their actions are choreographed.  We will forgive their actions, be they vile or illegal, for these reasons.  Unless, of course, they start throwing cats into dumpsters.

The Endless Summer (1966)

     Part documentary, part travelogue, part extreme sports film, Bruce Brown’s immortal 1966 creation follows two surfers around the world on their quest for perfect waves during an endless summer.  The film is incredibly archaic, a satisfying and occasionally cringe inducing reminder of the innocence and nostalgia of yesteryear.  The market now saturated with extreme sports docs capitalizing on whatever is in style, we would be hard pressed to find a film that shares the fascination and lightheartedness found here.
    Brown narrates the film with an eager and informative style befitting any travel film of the fifties and sixties where idyllic beaches and paradise lands are captured in grainy 16mm and populated by vintage cars and clothing.  Not only does he take liberty with the on-screen actions, but he seems to create an entirely non-existent back-story.  But it’s all in good fun.  The puns, both visual and verbal, floweth in full accord with complete disregard for political correctness or cultural sensitivity.  The innocence of nearly five decades passed is front and center as the surfers visit primitive cultures, deserted beaches, and sights uncommon to the average nuclear family.  It’s a relief that much of Brown's narration can be waived off as old school, today it would be seen as ignorant.
    The film is a breeze to watch.  Much of it consists of countless surfers navigating the lengths of their board with skilled agility and a showman’s confidence.  On the best of beaches, the length of their rides surpasses that of Brown camera magazine, minute upon minute of perfectly formed waves washing by the thousands onto an unpopulated beach.  The documentary is also a who’s who list of surfers from around the globe; Brown seems to take pride in naming each and every one, as well as their specialty.
    It is a document to years long gone, to a world long gone where the simple joys need not be validated and traveling country to country was as safe as riding the ocean waves without having to worry about being demolished by floating trash.  This film’s longevity is not surprising and is requisite material for documentary, sports, and surf enthusiasts.