The Island (2005)

                I had 2 objectives when I decided to watch this movie. 1.) To watch something that I would not have to think about afterwards, and 2.) To watch something that would allow me to test the capabilities of my new stereo system from G-Will.  Needless to say this Michael Bay film met all of my requirements.
              Set in the startlingly near future it left me worried about the fate of mankind, especially our clothing choices.  In a mix of cold gray concrete and sterile white laboratory adorned with LEDs the future us sit at mindless assembly line jobs like the current us.  If there is one thing they didn't learn form us it is how to get robots to do all the busy work.  The rest of the plot is too tedious to explain.
             The film is kind of a Truman Show meets Surrogates meets Michael Bay meets Every Other Crappy Sci-Fi-Dystopian-Neon-Future movie.  A society where everyone is the same, love is forbidden, heaven is just a lottery away, dudes in black are bad, etc.  Luckily the film cuts so fast you don't have to worry about your eyes getting bored.
             Yes this is the movie that Michael Bay would borrow shots from in his later Transformers blockbusters.  This movie cost $126 million and grossed $162.  Think how many smaller movies could have been made for that amount.
              It should go without saying that the vigor and enthusiasm with which I currently write is matches my enthusiasm of the film itself.

In much scarier news, Michael Bay is attached as producer of the upcoming Ninja Turtles reboot...uh oh.

Little Fockers (2010)

    This movie was a piece of shit.  Ok, now that that’s out of the way, let me acknowledge my embarrassment at discussing such a film.  Let me also acknowledge my embarrassment at having seen such a film, let alone on Christmas Day.  I shamefully joined the ranks of wide-waisted Americans sitting smugly for two hours as the cream-of-the-crap rolled by in trailers. Each of which, in its own terms, appropriately introduced this serial shitstorm.  It should be clearly noted that the only reason this writing exists is to express my dismay that the theater was full, the crowds were fat and jolly, and no one seemed to care that their hard-earned dollars were thrown away on complete and utter bull-plop.
    The fact that this is the third of three installments (so far…) is ample indication of the current cinematic state.  It is, both to filmdom and audience alike, insulting and degrading.  One would think, or at least hope, that certain entries of the Cinematic Canon would be untouchable, The Godfather and Jaws come to mind.  But I guess the presence of legendary Robert DeNiro is permission enough to desecrate any former artistic enterprise.  And I would have thought that his career was solid enough not to descend to such depths.  But alas, and this certainly isn’t new, cinema is doomed.  I, and ten of my family members, cast our vote for the studios to continue pumping out juvenile sequels to films that were both overrated and unwarranted.
    The existence of this movie says more than the film itself.  The grandparents come back, trouble ensues, genital jokes, who gives a flying fudge.  Certainly not anyone watching.  The credits roll as characters continue interacting on-screen.  The audience is nonetheless oblivious to this fact.  Instead, they respond to the credit-roll by evacuating the theater as if they just woke up from a long winters nap.  No one really cares what just happened, nor should they.
    It’s embarrassing to be infatuated with movies when most of what people flock to is comparable to what my dog leaves in the backyard.  It’s hard to tell just who the little f*ckers are; the people who keep making the films or the people that keep seeing them.  I sincerely hope this story ends in a trilogy but I might be the only one.  At least Jessica Alba was in it.

Kids + Money (2008)

            This 2008 short documentary is as eye opening as it is repulsive.  The state of American consumerism and self-indulgence is spewed from the mouth of a dozen Los Angeles teenagers whose preoccupation with wealth supersedes their attention to race.  Having been bred in a culture of heightened awareness to financial status has more demanded than created the infatuation with presentation and social awareness.

            The numerous talking heads are usually smack dab in the middle of an expansive abode or amongst hoards of frivolous clothing purchases.  One girl, hyper-aware of social stratification at her high school, models the various clique clothing while articulating the general expense.  Another boy sorts through stacks of $300 jeans and dozens of $100-300 dollars sneakers scattered across is floor.  On numerous occasions the kids recount their general expenditures, whether it be hundreds of dollars for casual shopping or the same amount for pre and post-prom activities.  And while a few kids provide the monetary supplement themselves, one girl scoffs at the idea that she will ever have to work.

            Perhaps the most interesting thing we see in these kids is a semi-developed attention to social stratification and organization.  Miniature sociologists with surprising scrutiny.  They identify, clearly, the importance of money in everything they say and do.  At the same time, for many of them, the dollars directly inhibit their attention to everything else.  A day at school is composed of gathering visual data about everyone else’s clothing choices.  Their approval depends on its quality, uniqueness, and brand. 

Art on Demand.

Would modern cinema be able to function without the classifications of genre that have been established by a century of filmmaking? Would modern audiences be able to choose a film to see without understanding the categorical organization developed? Would filmmakers even be able to make similar films without an understanding of like-minded films that have come before? Of course, but this doesn't mean genre is irrelevant.

The most blatant purpose of genre is to reproduce a type of film that was successful. Casting aside the art vs. commodity argument for a minute, commercial filmmaking is a business. The American film industry has done a rather amazing job at making it a profitable business at that. Yet their ability to identify the type of films that kept people coming back would not be possible without understanding the idea of genre. On the one hand, the audience likes a certain story and wants to see it again. Thus the proliferation of genre films, be it gangster, western, melodrama, ensures that audiences will find similar films. At the same time, keeping in mind the word ‘similar,’ the viewers do not (exceptions, of course, exist) want the exact same film a second time around. Thus we get what has come to be called the standardization/differentiation dialectic.

What is interesting is that genre films propagate their own existence. Creating films of similar style/theme is rationalized by their success in the box office. Like stated, the film will then need to differentiate itself from the competition by offering something that audiences have not seen in this particular genre. Naturally, this is not always achieved and the hoards of entries will fall into obscurity. Thus the downside of consciously creating what is wanted.

Mass production of films diluted the quality of existing films by increasing competition. We could easily blame our culture for insisting one cannot have too much of a good thing and applying the mindset to its arts and creative endeavors. The results can be a commercial compressed and dry film that offers nothing to the viewer but the same old story. It is not my intent to rant about the detrimental effects of commercial filmmaking, I rather like many a film of today. However, the nature of the genre film is both a blessing and a curse, something to look forward to or something to be weary of. It can feel like a prepackaged, assembly line product, yet one that is aimed at pleasing the largest amount of people possible.

Soviet artists Vitaly Komar and Alex Melamid hired a professional polling company to find out the average person’s aesthetic preferences. The results were used to create paintings, country by country, of the most desired and least desired elements. Of course, the artists did it to comment on the commercial nature art has taken on while at the same time ‘selling out’ in a way be producing said pieces. The film industry, to a large degree, operates on this very same research. The most successful movies are the one that will get reproduced, serialized, re-released, and most advertised. But does the matter of size, the fact the movies can cost millions and paintings not so much, validate its system? If a painter only painted what people wanted, knowing it would make money, would they be selling out all the time? Would they even be creating art? Would this style of work make the product nothing more than a commodity for mass consumption? If that were the case, a large majority of this country’s films would fit the bill. More later.

Dismissed Beauty

     If you've heard of Darren Aronofsky, then you've probably seen one of his most well-regarded films, Requiem for a Dream (2000). No doubt a very powerful film, conveying instances of lost hope and failed lives, it holds a unique style that few other films accomplish (although many attempt to replicate). Having been born in 1969, Aronofsky's ouvre is composed mainly (as of 2009) of films he did before making it to "mainstream" filmmaking. Pi (1998), Aronofsky's first feature length film, is another of his unique style films, comparable to David Lynch's Eraserhead, that did rather well in the box office for a limited release and low budget.

     Aronofsky, after Requiem for a Dream, began working on a film he had hoped to make for years. His original script was presented to major companies who promised to help budget the film, and Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett were cast as the two leads for the film. Unfortunately for everyone involved, Pitt and Aronofsky had creative differences, leading to the demise of the film. Aronofsky rewrote the script, and planned out a cheaper budget, asking Hugh Jackman and Rachel Weiz to play the leads for a reduced rate.

     The Fountain finally made it to theaters in November 2006 a final budget of around $35 million. It was a flop. Domestically, The Fountain grossed $10 million. In the foreign box office, only $5 million. The film lost $20 million dollars. The blow hit Aronofsky hard: after all the work he'd put into making his film, the public didn't even receive it well. Perhaps it was because the film wasn't hyped up, perhaps it was because the two leads weren't Pitt and Blanchett, or perhaps it was because the plot was too confusing for the general audience.

SPOILER ALERT!----CONTENT BELOW LINE IS SPOILERIFIC!!----SPOILER ALERT!

     The story, broken into three interweaving sections, revolves around two characters, Tom and Izzy. Captain Thomas and Queen Isabel are fighting against the church to remain in power of Spain. When Thomas claims there is no hope left, but is willing to give his life for his country, Isabel tells him she knows the location of the Fountain of Youth. Seven centuries later, Izzy is dying of cancer, and there seems to be nothing Tom can do to help. Five centuries later, Tom is flying with a tree through outer space in a bubble, trying to save the tree's life.
     What I really love about the movie is the theme. The film focuses on one man's struggle to defeat mortality in order to spend eternity with the woman he loves. As Queen Isabel tells Thomas: Together We Shall Live Forever. Tom is so involved with saving his wife from death, that he ultimately forgets to spend time with her; time they could have spent enjoying life together. In the 21st Century portion of the film, Izzy writes a book called "The Fountain" in which she tells the story of the 16th Century Thomas and Izzy who search for the tree of life together.

    In my understanding of the film, the story unfolds like this: Since all of her book was based on Myan theories (in the movie), the whole concept is potentially true for Tom and Izzy. Thus, when Tom remembers that he had found a South American tree with unusual properties and uses it on a primate patient of his, he accidentally finds a way to live forever. Unfortunately, Izzy has already fallen victim to cancer and has passed away. She requested, mostly symbollically and metaphorically, that after she is buried, a tree be planted over her grave so that she can become part of the tree and live forever.
     Since Tom now has the cure for death and can live forever, the two lovers essentially live together forever: one as a tree, the other as a human. 26 centuries later, Isabella (as the tree) and Tom are flying through outerspace in a futuristic bubble of a ship, because Izzy also mentioned that when the dying star in the middle of a nebula explodes, it sends out it's particles everywhere and creates new life. Unfortunately, Izzy-tree is dying, and Tom has to make it to the nebula before it explodes and before the tree dies.

     To sum things up: the 16th Century story never actually happened, but rather it was all Izzy's story written down in her book, based on Mayan predictions. 21st Century Tom finds a cure for death too late, plants a tree on the top of Izzy's grave in hopes that she will live forever throught the tree's life. He lives with her for 5 centuries until the tree begins to die. He then flies with the tree to the nebula that the Mayans and Izzy call Xibalba, which is about to explode and create new life. Together, they lived forever. Tom's dependence on Izzy is apparent in his research (where without needing to research a cure for Izzy, he would have no purpose in life) and in his flight to Xibalba (where he literally depends on the tree for his nutrients, eating pieces to keep his life). Izzy's dependence on Tom is a bit more obvious, since her whole life is devoted to their love (in the book, and in the 21st century) and since Tom carries her tree-life to the nebula to try and save her again. Interestingly, Tom's character in Izzy's book, Captain Thomas, is the person who gives his life to become the tree's roots.

     In my mind, it's a beautiful story. Although it is, at times, very poorly constructed, being more confusing than enlightening, its end product is one of beauty. The interweaving of the two stories does two opposites: it creates a sense of unity and parallelism in the three separte centuries, and at the same time, it gives the wrong message. When I first watched the film, I understood the plot as being one man and woman (Thomas and Isabel) living through the centuries together. Having partaken of the tree of life, Thomas was able to live for 10 Centuries, the gods being kind enough to give him his love-life each time, but each time stealing her from him until he realized that she needed him as much as he needed her. But this couldn't have worked, since Isabel never ate of the tree of life. So the confusing plot threw me off for a while, until I re-watched the film and had a revelation. In this sense, the plot was poorly crafted.

     Still, I enjoy the simple aspects of the film: Toms blatent indifference toward the fact that he just figured out how to prolong life indefinitely due to the fact that he cares so much for his wife, is a very enchanting thought. I like the fact that Tom's future person still uses the parting gift Izzy left with him before she died, to put life rings on his arm (just like a tree, when cut down, has rings of the different stages of its life, Tom etched rings of tattoos on his arms to represent the different years he spent with his wife. (starting with the ring he etched into his finger when he lost his wedding ring, and she died)). It's a very poetic film, but many of its simple poetic phrases seem lost in the overacting, or are simply overbearing and therefore easily dismissed.

    Clint Mansell's amazing score really brings the movie to life. It's a very raw, primal sound, that replicates Captain Thomas' encounter with the Mayans and his journey to the tree of life. I especially enjoy the raw power of the "Death is the Road to Awe" track.

    The art director and the director of photography work well together. Beautifully composed shots, and beautiful, non-CG special effects (Peter Parks used macro photography to portray the nebula instead of computer generated images) create a very awesome visual candy for its audience. The film is really worth a watch if you're privy to love stories, but if you're not, it's probably a movie you're not going to care for. And if you are a love story addict, then the movie is worth a second watch if you didn't like it the first time.