Thursday, January 3, 2013

The Seventh Seal (1957) - Swedish


While watching the film for the first time, there is a significant affinity for the tumultuous beaches and stark cliffs and beaches of Sweden. It is exhilarating because the sea seems ready to do battle with the steep rocks of the coast. Of course, this can be said to represent the mindset of our lead protagonist Antonius Block, who is in the midst of out witting death in a game of chess. The internal struggle of the knight moves the story through a long journey of death's hold on life and what that means to a God, if there ever was one.

A dark and bleak tale that lends us release in the carefree entrancement of life enjoyed by a couple of entertainers. Jof, his wife Mia, and their baby Mikael are the binary narrative to the knight's tale, and it seems appropriately so, since Block demands proof of the existence of a being he has unquestioningly served for years in the crusades. Jof's tale procures fertility, unconditional love, and stability, while Block's tale lends deceit, death, and existential obsession. It is only after he is sure of his impending doom, that he blindly asks for God's forgiveness.

Ingmar Bergman's background in theater stabilizes the actors so that they can comfortably work through existential thought, while acting naturally. It helps that Bergman's work was equally divided between the studio and the theater. He'd worked as director of the Royal Dramatic Theater in the 1960s while pumping out works like Winter Light and The Silence. The acting appears morally sound, but is confused as ever whether or not they are working towards the existence among a higher order.

A good example would be the silence of the assumed witch that speaks only to Satan. She confesses her devotion to the Devil and seems to give Block an affirmation of the existence of God, yet she resumes her silence at the stake. Jons, Block's loyal squire, argues that her silence is a realization of the fact that there is no God. Bergman's silent woman motif can be exemplified by the otherness of women in Sweden, and the organizational attitudes of a patriarchal society. Silence is often times a resistance to the established male hierarchy, and to remain silent in defiance to God can be the best way to protest religious association with the patriarch.

Saturday, December 29, 2012

Amores Perros (2000) - Mexican

Alejandro Iñárritu directs this drama set in the streets of Mexico which are teeming with violence. It is made up of three stories which are connected by a catastrophic, unbelievably violent car crash. What makes it more powerful is that the film begins with the shocking car crash, assaulting the spectator with an alarming event. Many have called it the Mexican Pulp Fiction, yet it is far from the dialogue heavy, idiosyncratic, new wave feel of Pulp Fiction.

Dogs are a heavy presence in the film and it's no surprise that when man's best friend is taken away, the flawed character relationships no longer have a crutch to stand on. Their relationships begin to reveal themselves in a healing light. Any sort of burdens that had been carried throughout the relationship reveal themselves and force the characters to reflect on each other.

Through the brutal streets of Mexico, three stories of love unfold, all connected through the instance of a car crash. The incident shifts each one of their lives by introducing elements that will change each of their relationships forever. It will reveal the truth of the love they each share. The magnitude of the car crash sets the three protagonists on a collision course with who they truly are, but not in a humanist way like that of Crash (2004), it is more an animalistic, instinctive way, drawing a relationship to the dogs in the film. A film that welcomed the millennium with a bang and took an approach to love that mirrored  that of man's best friend.

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Shoeshine (1946) - Italian

Italian director Vittorio De Sica explores the disintegration of a friendship between two young boys in a Italian jail for youth. Giuseppe and Pasquale are imprisoned after being falsely accused of stealing from a fortune teller while selling her American blankets. Their case isn't helped any by their purchase of an expensive horse, which they had been saving up to buy for quite some time. Giuseppe bunks with several older boys while Pasquale is cooped up with a younger crowd. It is interesting to see the peer influence on each of their environments, especially after Pasquale is fooled into revealing the truth about who was behind the robbery.

As a part of the loose push for the Italian Neorealist movement, Shoeshine uses shooting on location and the streets of a war torn Italy to express woes of the mundane through a documentary like setting. The only light that creeps in through the prison is through bars there are many instances of exterior light forming patterns around the children's cells. The fresh air and freedom of the exterior can be likened to the other presences of light. For instance, an escape is played out during the projection of news reels and a comedy set on the streets of Italy. All of these bright projected lights are constant reminders of the white horse that was purchased by the boys at the beginning of the film. It is a shadow of their boyhood attempts to have excitement and no obligations. The horse is the last physical remnant of their friendship that exists outside the prison walls.

De Sica can be praised for his display of the troubles and lives of the Italian worker. The shoeshine boys worked for low wages and mostly for the visiting American forces who still lingered in the streets of Italy. Italian Neorealism is praised for its revelation of the drama in the motions and movements of the everyday. The usual becomes ripe with emotion and contrite images of post-war Italian society. Other films of De Sica in this same vein are The Bicycle Thief (1948), Miracle In Milan (1951), and Umberto D. (1952).

Saturday, July 28, 2012

Persona (1966) - Swedish

Swedish director Ingmar Bergman weaves the vastly contrasted lives of a nurse and actress together in a blaze of envy and jealousy. Elisabeth, an actress who becomes mute one day on set, is taken into the care of Nurse Alma. The head nurse advises that the both of them take a trip to her summer home in order to keep recuperate. Elisabeth's muteness serves as a template for Alma's confessions of past sins, and eventually, Alma seeks to destroy all of herself and wishes to become Elisabeth.

The editing of the film suggests a zealous adolescence by beginning with a bright light, followed by a film strip, followed by dormant figure in beds. The only one to awake is a young boy who attempts to read only to be arrested by the projected image of woman. The tactile sense in the film is also quite evident considering the boy touches the projected image of woman very attentively. This beginning has nothing to do with the overall story arc and it only wraps up the film in the end. The fast paced editing is one to jolt anyone out of their seats.

After the non-linear beginning, Elisabeth and Alma begin to discover much about each other, but Elisabeth refuses to speak, so we are mostly learning of Alma with nothing to tell us about Elisabeth aside from what Alma assumes about her. The two become very close, touching and feeling each other's hair and body's. They stare deeply into one another yet Alma really loses it later in the film, even by attempting to destroy Elisabeth with a piece of broken glass. Alma's attempts to get her to talk reach insane ends and it deconstructs each woman's persona that they've lived in their individual lifestyles. The persona's each woman takes on is a permeable veil only in that one woman may act and live like another. In a beautifully constructed scene, Elisabeth enters Alma's room in ghostlike fashion. To Alma's relief, she stands in the billowy curtains just outside staring at Alma's awakened body. They then begin to wrap feel each other's hair and wrap each other in them. Strange? Yes! Ambiguously gay? Indeed! But the scene speaks for itself in its attempts to describe the envy of one another's soul to become and engulf another. Give this film a watch. It is Bergman's masterpiece.

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Goodbye Lenin! (2003) - German

I would just like to mention that there is some spoiler-ish information in the text below. Just so I don't ruin any future viewing of the film. Although, I'm sure everyone is aware that the Berlin wall does indeed fall. And with that Goodbye Lenin!

The story of political change in a divided country told through the eyes of a young man and his recently comatose mother. Alexander (Daniel Bruhl) must hide the recent political shifts in his East Berlin town from his politically active mother(Katrin Sass), since her heart is too weak and can't take any excitement.

The lengths that Alex goes to prevent his mother from knowing the truth illustrates a struggle of covering up reality for the sake of continuing a life once lived. It seems this sin runs in the family since Alex's mother also has a secret of her own that has been covered up. The theme of keeping ignorance under control taps into the psyche of the consumerist, capitalistic, and communist decree that now runs rampant through Germany after the fall of the wall. With the spread of satellite dishes, knowledge of both cultures begins to seep through East Germany rather quickly. A good instance of this is the process Alex uses to sustain his lie by making videos about West German refugees entering communist East Germany in order to pursue different, anti-capitalist lives.

I love so much about this film, but what really grabbed me in the beginning was the score written by Yann Tiersen, a French musician, who also wrote music for Amelie. For what I thought would be a comedy, which it surely is, I was met with a sorrowful mood. It was delicate but the imagery of communist Germany was very passionate and powerful, drenched in red. This combination showed me a portrait of a mother who's life and vigor were cast in red like that of the Soviet flag, and the music showed me just how dire her health was, and how fragile her body had become. This is the perfect setup for what the film would explain in the coming chapters. 


Thursday, July 12, 2012

ODST Commercial

The Halo ODST commercial directed by Rupert Sanders, was my first experience with video games being transposed to the video medium. It is also the first in a series of live action commercials for each sequential Halo game. The commercial follows the path of an Orbital Drop Shock Trooper who's brother was killed in battle. The candle lights at the funeral look like flaming pistols and the amphitheater that the funeral takes place in is large, gray and empty, like the faces of the fellow infantryman in attendance. The boy joins the ODST ranks and goes through a nightmarishly dark and gritty boot camp. He is then jettisoned  into a scenario straight out of Saving Private Ryan.

And with that, the transition to the scene is phenomenal. Jumping from a training wall, the scene has changed to that of interior of the pod in which ODST's are implanted behind enemy lines. In another effective transition, the young boy is slashed by a brute in the face, and his scars are healed through a cut to the boy as a grown man, again attending the funeral of a fallen comrade, only this time, they are in the field of battle during the burial. In these transitions, the boys journey to manhood is rapid and immediate. The scars of battle are given quick convalescence and the entry into battle is preluded by a mental scarring of training.

To see more from Rupert Sanders and the group of directors responsible for story prevalent commercials, look to http://www.mjz.com. Among the groups other notables are Spike Jonze and Micheal Mann.


Thursday, April 5, 2012

The Matrix Trilogy: Institutional Racism and Representation

The Matrix is such a hodgepodge of different influences that it seems endless the many different readings and associations one may have while viewing it. The most overt symbolism in the trilogy of films is the allegory of institutional racism. Through a series of representations inside and outside of the Matrix, there is clear allusions to the concept of institutional racism. To name a few, the most clear and obvious sign would be the Agents. They are all of the Caucasian race and they all represent the bureaucracy by wearing suits and ties. Men in black have always been associated with the government's agenda to keep a lid on conspiracies. They are the men in power, or machines, who will stop at nothing to maintain the control over a species they find inferior. Agent Smith even associates them with a parasite. Another instance of white male dominance is established in the Matrix with the pseudo-religious association with The One and the perpetuation of typical Caucasian/Western ideals of gods. Neo is the one, yet he is also white. He is the typical symbol of Christ, who's image has been used to give hope to minorities everywhere. Neo's sacrifice in The Matrix Revolutions is clear indication of Neo's Christ-like qualities. He is the white symbol of control of hope and optimism that is also essentially controlled by the system. In The Matrix Reloaded, Neo confronts another Caucasian white male who is The Architect, or in other words, God. These two depictions of God and Jesus have been circulated around the globe by the conquistadors of Spain and early Puritans of the Americas. They have become a degree of spiritual control that the machines have used to govern the outliers that live in Zion. The Matrix bleeds into the real world through associations with the pseudo-religion of the one. Zion exists because it is allowed by the machines to exist for the purpose of exiling the people attempting to destroy the chains of their bondage to an illusion of the truth.

Zion is first and foremost a ghetto. Its inhabitants are mostly minorities, the captains of their ships and armies are mostly African American, and the machines they use are primitive (compared with the society of machines). The information gap between the poor people of Zion and the machines of the surface world are vastly different and the machines are eons ahead in tech. Down to the clothes they wear, which are usually tattered and gray, and the food they eat, Tasty Wheat, which only provides what the body needs. Nothing more nothing less.

Representation in the Matrix trilogy may only promote the ideologies of the dominant race running things, but it narrates the story in a way to make us believe that something may be wrong with the system of doing things, and to not only constantly question it, but to move to erase it. Neo ends up becoming a ambassador to the machines in the final Matrix film. He attempts to reconnect with the machines by offering them a solution to their Agent Smith problem and offering them a truce. Coexistence is promoted and established in the Matrix and it is only through a clear representation of institutionalized racism and only trough the avowal of its existence can it be destroyed.