Blue Valentine (Derek Cianfrance) - 2010

I have always viewed Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind as our generations first real love story. After seeing Blue Valentine, I think I was a bit off on my judgement. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind may be our generations first fairy tale love story. Blue Valentine may be our generations most true and raw love story. This is not to compare the two films. I will always hold Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind in very high regards. I am only making a comparison based on the films view of contemporary love. Gone are the days of romance as witnessed in The Philadelphia Story, or most Katherine Hepburn films. Today, audiences want over the top humor (the horrid rom-com) or something painfully too close to home (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Blue Valentine).

When does the relationship start to break? Is there a way to point out the exact spot when the problem began to split up the couple? And, is there ever just one problem? Or, is it a feeling? Is it the passing of time? When my first relationship ended, my partner and I spent a great deal of time trying to pin point the moment the end started. We were never able to find that point. I think it is safe to say that point can never be found. In fact, that moment doesn't exist. Relationships are a lot more complex and messy than we'll ever understand. Blue Valentine is willing to admit all of this.

Blue Valentine reminds me of a novel I read early in 2010, A Happy Marriage. The book, much like the film, jumps back and forth between the beginning of a relationship (the happiest moments) and the end of a relationship (the most painful, but most honest moments). In the novel, one half of the couple is dying. So, there are differences. But, the tone of two people when they recognize the end... it so drastically causes changes in your every day.

The film feels a lot like a play put on the screen. There are certain conversations, actions, and over the top gestures that don't always feel genuine enough. The action, the plot devices, aren't always realistic enough with other parts of the film. At first, this bothered me. I noticed the irregular behaviors. I quickly realized the significance of these changes. It is difficult to really involve yourself into the thoughts and realities of two strangers for two hours. Using play-like dialogue and actions allows for the audience to understand what is taking place. We are so quickly forced into the situation, the couple's past and present. What started out feeling slightly out of place, ended up making the film a much more compelling experience.

The soundtrack is beautiful. Grizzly Bear plays the instruments and sings. The soundtrack is basically a heavily instrumental version of Grizzly Bear's Yellow House. No complaints here. The music fits so perfectly in every scene. It never once steals the scene, but always creates more layers of atmosphere. The camera work creates a gritty film experience. The camera moves and shakes a bit. As if one is watching home movies. Or, a documentary. The flashbacks to the past are filled with gray tones and lots more shadow. I love the way the colors are used because the happier time period isn't necessarily brighter.

I feel most people will watch this film and want to blame someone for the relationship failing. I am very much one of those people. Cindy (Williams' character) feels the most removed of the couple. She seems to have given up before she ever starts. A character so afraid of falling out of love that she can't bring herself to ever fall in love. She uses the relationship of her parents as a guide. She saw their unhappiness and hate. She wants so badly to avoid the same life as her parents. It is sad to finally come to terms with how much the relationships we witness as children will go on to shape our future relationships. We can run and fight against this fact as much as possible, but there is a truth in this.

A-

Edward Hopper: Modern Life/ The Whitney Museum of Art, October 28 - April 10

Edward Hopper's art does not come from my favorite art movement (abstract expressionism), but I have always had a large response to Hopper's work. Hopper is considered a realist painter. Realism is one of my favorite movements of literature (Zola, Flaubert, Balzac, etc). And, I love films based in realism (Mike Leigh). Walking through the exhibit at the Whitney, I was struck by my inability to ever really think through the art of the realist painters. Having never spent any time working my way through a realist art catalogue, I was pleased to see the Hopper exhibit was filled with Hopper's art and other pieces of realist paintings to have inspired or been inspired by Hopper.

I was lucky enough to walk through the Whitney on a day one of the guides was giving a free tour/lecture of the Hopper exhibit. I am usually quick to dismiss the tour guides at art museums. They are typically filled with very bland details of an artist's life and are never too giving on the methods of the painter or the history of the piece. On a rare chance, I found myself in the gallery with a tour guide willing to share interesting information. I did not spend my entire time listening or following the guide and her group. Instead, I stepped into the lecture from time to time just to make sure I was on the same page. And, to learn something new.

The gallery begins with a self portrait of Hopper as a young man. The exhibit end with a self portrait of Hopper as an older man. I think this is an incredible way to bookend an exhibit. Art is so much the expression of the artist. To have the opportunity to see the way an artist viewed themselves is always an incredible experience. It allows one to understand the way the artist viewed the world, too. If the artist transforms themselves into something unrecognizable, clearly their view of the world may be a little off. In the case of Hopper, it was almost a photograph. Promising the viewer the paintings still to come were going to contain some very personal moments filled with life.



One of my favorite paintings, the above piece (New York Interior) is delightful in it's humor and sadness. The humor comes from the way Hopper is playing with the images of Degas' paintings. The use of dancers in Degas' paintings are always so welcoming. Degas considered himself a realist painter, but was considered an Impressionist painter. Their certainly are many elements of realism to Degas' works. Hopper has used these elements to his own benefit in this painting. The audience is not allowed in this time around. We are no longer invited into the dancers world. This is something Hopper loves to portray in his paintings. Hopper's work is very distant, while at the same time feeling very familiar.



What has now turned into my favorite Hopper painting, Soir Blue (above image) was the highlight of the exhibit. The moment I walked into the painting I was overwhelmed by the sense of story taking place. There is such a dialogue in this painting. And how amazing that our most silent form of art can be so overwhelmingly loud. The painting is a mix of Ingmar Bergman and Federico Fellini. There is a lot of humor and sadness in this painting (as with most of Hopper's work). I stared into this painting and wondered how it had not inspired a film, or a novel, or a play, or a short story collection. (Of course, this is my next project... hopefully).

The work of Hopper is intense. We are treated to nude women with longing glances out windows, off of porches, and into a world we can't quite see. But, that we are very much a part of. We are shown homes living in shadow and light. Dancers in a private ritual we are not fully welcome to experience. Hopper's a master at the mystery of the everyday. The ability to turn the most mundane, routine moment into a philosophical examination of our meaning and purpose.

A+

The King is Dead, The Decemberists (2011)

To me, music has always been about memory. Certain bands remind of certain periods in my life. Certain songs of certain people. And, some albums fit so perfectly with certain seasons. If music isn't about memory, then it's about dancing. Two very strange and different criteria for music. But, nonetheless, I have discovered these to be my truths.

I've had two major music phases of my life. The first was in junior high when I discovered my mother's Janis Ian record in the basement (if 'At Seventeen' doesn't fuck you up, you have no heart). I quickly found myself listening to female folk music all the time. This lead to all folk music. This lead to classic rock music. Then, in the middle of college, I switched over to the indie/hipster music. So much of the sound is weighted in classic rock that is seemed to be the natural progression. But, I removed myself from the folk music. Lately, I find myself going back and forth between the two styles of music. Always happy to have the memories associated with all of the bands and songs.

On hearing the first single, 'Down By the Water,' off the new Decemberists' record, I was confused by its simplicity. The last two Decemberists albums have been too large, too over the top, too demanding of attention. The albums felt more like operas than albums. I was concerned for the route the Decemberists were taking. In fact, I had all but given up on them as a band. Gone was the folky, playful games of their first two albums. Growth is good for any band, but running away from yourself is entirely different. So the stripped down single showed a bit of promise.

The whole albums is sparse... for a Decemberists album. Even more sparse than their first albums. This is the Decemberists do Americana. After my first listen, I thought to myself 'a mix of folk and indie music might just be what I need.' And, for a first listen, that was true. But, on repeated listens... the folk comes a little too close to crossing over into country. But, not even country. Just a very bland, invisible sound. The Decemberists have now run so far away from where they ran to in the first place?

This is not to say this is a bad album. It is a boring album. But, for the Decemberists, this might not be the worst thing. They needed to clam down and come back to earth. Perhaps, their next effort will be the perfect mix?

'This is Why We Fight' is certainly a Decemberists top ten song. Alright, probably number ten... but, still, I'm giving them a little bit of credit. It's nice to hear a sad and lovely song from a band that once wrote the most beautiful sad and lovely songs. A bit of a return to form for them. The majority of the songs on the album just kind of float around your ears. It's a great album for background. Or, for cleaning the house. For a long road trip... the lyrics come to you pretty quickly.

C+

127 Hours (Danny Boyle) - 2010

I hesitate to write my response to this film for fear of coming off as too insensitive. I understand the events of this story are based on a real life event. And I accept the situation is quite impressive. This is very much a survival story in every sense of the word. Many people love a good story of survival. They enjoy the films that seem to imply miracles really do happen every day. But, I am not one of these people. I do not see the miracle of this film or the moral of this event.

The main character, Aron (played by James Franco), is a bit of a jerk. His arrogance and desire to push himself a little further gets on my nerves. Aron is the type of guy I despised in high school and the type of guy I refuse to acknowledge when we're in the same room. I'm not impressed, or interested, in stories of rock climbing/mountain biking/camping. These are individual events. Keep them to yourself.

So, why does Danny Boyle think anyone is interested in 96 minutes of this man's life?
My guess... because Danny Boyle is a sucker for a Hallmark story dressed up in a Hollywood suit. What was Slumdog Millionaire if not a feel good, over the top, unrealistic experiment in sentimentality? So, why not follow up your biggest hit with something that is really going to bring in the masses? A film that appeals to your parents (Oprah loves this shit), to your friends (James Franco is just the sexiest), and to film buffs (Danny Boyle used to know how to make a decent film).

There are many times in the film I felt as if I was watching an MTV movie. The music becomes so distracting. The camera work so unnecessarily gimmicky. And, the plot so thin it could have been carved through faster than Aron's arm. Where is the experience of a film in 127 Hours? Because I missed it if it exists within this film. The only perk to this film is Franco's performance. And, honestly, not even Franco's acting is enough to really give this film merit.

When I first heard about this film, when I first saw previews for this film... I figured there was no way I would sit through the movie. When I was given the chance to see the film for free (and there was nothing else to watch), I decided I might as well give Danny Boyle a third chance (after Sunshine and Slumdog Millionaire). Well, strike three and you're out, Mr. Boyle. When you decide to find your way back to the playful and bleak films (ie, Trainspotting, Shallow Grave, 28 Days Later), I might tune back in. But, as long as you continue to suck the dick of Hollywood and their disatourous attempts at "art house directors as success stories" I will be sure to tune out.

C-

Still Walking (Hirokazu Koreeda)- 2008

What feels like many years ago, and at this point ten plus years ago is many years ago, I saw a beautiful film called After Life. I was in high school and just starting to discover my love of the independent film, the foreign film, the art house film. I would spend free time on websites listing movie releases and seek out the more obscure and interesting titles. At the time, these types of films were very much an escape. My friends and family were more concerned with Hollywood releases and big budget films. I felt a little on the outside. To be honest, I was perfectly content in such a place. After Life took a bit of work to get my hands on. It wasn't until it was released on VHS that I was able to get a copy through the public library. The film was unique in that it dealt with a group of people working in a warehouse. They were in charge of helping the newly deceased pick the film of their life. Only so many memories could be taken to the after life, and it was the job of a small group of people to help the dead stay focused. To help them understand the significance of what they take with them.

When I discovered the Criterion Collection would be releasing Still Walking in early February, I was intrigued to find out information about a fairly recent film release that I had never heard about. Was very excited to discover the director, Hirokazu Koreeda, was the same director as After Life. I was even more excited to discover Still Walking was available on Netflix for instant viewing. So I set out to watch it immediately.

Still Walking is a family drama. A day in the life of a family. The story is about the connections and the disconnections of the modern family in a traditional culture. The family gathers every year, fifteen years and counting, for a dinner to memorialize the death of the eldest son. A drowning incident in which the eldest son saved a drowning victim but lost his own life is all we're ever told of the incident. There is much mystery and unsaid in the film. This never hurts the pace or the story. The simplicity and silence really adds to the emotional levels. Creates the tip-toeing feeling we are so familiar with within our own families.

It would be very easy to compare this film to the films of the great director Yasujiro Ozu. Ozu's greatest film (and one of my ten favorite films) is Tokyo Story. One could easily find many patterns and similarities between Tokyo Story and Still Walking. But, that doesn't really give enough credit to the modernity of Still Walking. And, it makes one think Still Walking lacks originality. I feel this isn't the case. Only that Koreeda has based the film in such a traditional framework through the use of the aged parents as a means to anchor so much of the family traditions in the past.

To use a cliche used too often for films: Still Walking peels away slowly and carefully like an onion. Because Koreeda is so exact and careful, the film never slices right into the story. This leaves the audience without a need to cry. There is a constant sense of sadness and hurt. A feeling of so much loss and regret. But, the story reveals layer by slow layer. Never once does Koreeda force the audience to confront any one pained incident for too long or to examine any motives too closely. This isn't to say the film lacks depth. Still Walking may be one of the most deeply motivated films on the history of a single family in a very similar fashion as Summer Hours and Yi-Yi.

Still Walking deals with all those things we expect of ourselves. What our parents expected of us. What is still to be expected. The film deals with death, past and future. How do we try to connect with those we know we're going to lose? Why do we allow ourselves to become so disconnected in the first place? How do we forgive those who have wronged us? Who we've wronged? Koreeda is never preachy, pushy, or insensitive. Every conversation and silent interaction between the family members is handled so realistically. The film may feel slow to some, but it would be unfair to judge the film on its pace. The film is meant to be a slow process of understanding how a family grows into their current state of disrepair.

A-

The Company Men (John Wells) - 2010

I feel it might be too soon for a film like The Company Men to be seen by a wide American audience. If film history has taught us anything, it is that movie goers use film as a means of escape during rough times. So, how does an audience respond to a film dealing with the current economic crisis and job layoffs? Even two of the characters in the film decide to go see a movie to escape for a couple of hours. How would they feel after leaving The Company Men?

At the same time, not all film is meant as escape. Film is art as much as literature and painting and photography and music. In fact, film is the most accessible form of art. The job of art is to respond to the current cultural climate. To examine the way we live and the way the rest of the world lives. It is all about response. Reaction. The Company Men is so successful because it delicately creates a series of character studies without making the audience feel, or think, "I can't relate to any of these men." In fact, Wells has done something very incredible with his characters. Wells has given them enough story to make them stand out, but not too much so they still have something for the audience to grasp.

I will never make the type of money any of the men in this film made. I will never need to worry about the finances of an entire family, an oversized house, fancy cars, and extravagant vacations. But, I still exist within these worries on the small scale. The enormity of some of these men's finances is scary. Are they as much to blame for their downfall? Do they live beyond their means? Do we, as Americans, refuse to acknowledge we've gone too far? Is Wells speaking big picture here? National debt, etc?

The weakness of the films falls on the wives. Either Wells doesn't know how to write for women, or Wells comes from a very traditional background, or wealthy wives really behave this way... I don't know. Either way, I was uncomfortable with the portrayal of many of these women. One wife refuses to let her recently fired husband come home before 6pm because she doesn't want the neighbors to know he has been laid off. Another wife talks about a weekend getaway to Palm Springs seconds after her husband has informed her of the layoffs at work. Are these women so out of touch? More so than their husbands? Rosemarie De Witt (playing the wife to Ben Affleck's character) is the only likable female of the film. Her role on The United States of Tara is distracting and over the top. In fact, I was annoyed to see she was in The Company Men. But, her clear headed, strong female character was just what this film needed.

Tommy Lee Jones was made for his role in this film. Every sigh, every pained squint of this performance is perfection. The creased aged lines of Jones' face add an additional level of sadness to the character. After watching this film, I believe Jones should receive an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor. Every role Jones has created feels as though it was a stepping stone to arrive at this role. Truly perfected and heartfelt.

As with any film wanting to reach mass appeal, there is an element of hope to the film. The film's previews claim it is time for America to take back their lives and not only live for their work. I'm not sure the film is successful in this message. But, there is a period of time for these men to slow down. To reevaluate their lives, their families, their futures.

The film is perfectly cast. The acting is superior. The cinematography is beautiful. The film may run along a few cliches from time to time, but in the end The Company Men is still a very rewarding and honest experience.

B

Another Year (Mike Leigh) - 2010

How much can we be to blame for the way our friends fall apart? For the damage we watch them bring to themselves day after day? As friends, are we only expected to be a sturdy rock when asked? Or, should we step in and bring an end to the suffering of someone we care for? These are just a few of the questions on my mind after viewing Mike Leigh's triumphant Another Year. Leigh has mastered realism as a film experience. As an art form. No longer does one need to watch for Leigh's mis-steps or seek out complaints. From here on out, Leigh's films are the content within and not all that out of the frame.

Tom and Gerri are presented as a happily married couple with one child, a son. They have a small garden on a shared plot. They tend to the garden together. They travel together. They sip their evening tea side by side. They take turns impressing one another with their culinary skills. And, nightly, they read as they fall asleep next to one another. Their marriage is the stuff of fantasy. But, not necessarily the makings of an excellent film. So, Leigh introduces those within Tom and Gerri's circle- their friends.

The film focuses on two friends, Mary (for a majority of the film) and Ken (for a small portion of the film). Their interactions at dinner parties, a summer bar-b-q, and various other situations. As an audience, we watch as voyeurs in the most silent of fashion. Rarely do we want to laugh too loud or cry too hard. For fear of being noticed and disrupting a scene. How does Leigh and his actors create such intimate moments? Where does their own pain grow from? Their own experiences played out as other people?

Mary, played by Lesley Manville, is one of cinemas most heartbreaking women. Her eyes are always searching the room. Her neck constantly strained and turning. Her fingers must always be in action. And, her mouth always moving. Mary is afraid of the silence, but afraid of what she reveals when she speaks. She's a character of extreme sadness and loss. A woman so driven to prove herself that she is unaware of the danger she has become. Throughout the film, Leigh's camera catches glimpses of Mary on the verge of a complete breakdown. But, it is in the final scene, when Mary sits at the table with a family not her own. She listens to stories of their lives. Their plans for the future. She bites her lip. She lowers her head. She holds back tears in a way we've all done time and time again. Somehow Manville manages to make them seem larger than the everyday. We are watching a woman with no answers try to remember the questions... her purpose... her need to live.

Ken, played by Peter Wright, is an overweight friend of Tom's from college. Ken eats too fast, drinks too much, and smokes too hard. His face and body reveal the mistreatment of himself time and time again. This may lead one to believe Ken is a man unable to express himself. Unable to share the issues causing him to lead a life of such excess. But, he's open. During a late night conversation with Tom and Gerri, Ken breaks down. A sixty year old man weeping in the open. What a rare sight in film or real life. Yet the whole scene is so real and honest. Ken's fear of returning to his home, his job, his routine. And, his fear of giving up the routine. What do we do when we're stuck in a rut? How to we make meaning out of what we do? And how do we find meaning in creating something new for ourselves?

Tom and Gerri are interesting characters. Even though they may not be the film's main attractions. Tom is a geologist. His job is to find out if the ground is sturdy enough to hold future structures. Basically, Tom is meant to find secure foundations. And, Gerri has a similar purpose in her job as a therapist. Again, finding secure foundations for people to function. How is it possible for two people so focused on solid ground to be unable to support their friends? This is where my questions arise in terms of how we relate to our own friends. Are Tom and Gerri not good friends? Or, are they the best type of friends?

In the end, these questions don't need answers. Leigh's film is meant to be an experience in living. A view inside the lives of a small group of people over the course of one year. Who has all the answers? And, what good is there in asking all the questions? Leigh's film is bleak, but filled with humor. It has been a long time since I had such a profound experience with a film. Another Year is certainly Leigh's second best film. If not his best.

A+