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The Dark Knight (2008)
Answering the critics
Looking over the comments from those who hated this film, I noticed a lot of people complaining that the film has a.) poor editing and cinematography, b.) undeveloped characters, and c.) and incoherent and/or meaningless plot. Not all criticisms say these things; some smart viewers genuinely don't get this film and that's cool. But a LOT of viewers claim the film is both stupid and nihilistic. Let's discuss. (If you're already nodding, cut to the last paragraph).
First, it should be noted that the film's cinematographer, Wally Pfister, has already been nominated for an Oscar twice. These nominations are not driven by money or by poor taste; they come from other cinematographers and they speak to the artistry of his work. Pfister is a master of deliberately imperfect framing and visual misdirection. His work isn't easy to watch and his work rewards repeat viewing. It is NOT incoherent and, in fact, most of his scenarios are VERY clear after a while. He makes you work for clarity and why this should be a problem, especially when visual sophistication is something that usually makes films better, is beyond me.
Second, the editing, though very rapid, also comes together after repeat viewing. The cuts usually bring together different IDEAS about what a scene means, not just different angles-- that is, the plot information carries thematic information inside it. Those who don't want to work for this information are perfectly entitled not to, but they might reconsider their right to complain about it.
Third, concerning character: the critics are right. The characters are in fact "underdeveloped" and that's only a problem if you think every film should be judged as if it is a Merchant Ivory production. The fact is, Christopher Nolan is a science fiction director. I don't mean that all his films are science fiction; I just mean that he focuses on ideas, not characters. If you aren't into this, fine, but it's a genre issue, not an issue of quality. Complaining that a science fiction film doesn't have "well developed characters" is like claiming that Atonement was a poor film because it didn't have an alien invasion. I liked Atonement and I liked knowing who the characters were and where they were coming from, because it was a work of dramatic realism. In The Dark Knight, the Joker's "origin" is NOT THE POINT--which is why he keeps making up various stories about his origin. The point is the social role he plays. It's also not the point that he actually plans things. OF COURSE he actually plans things: he just CLAIMS that he doesn't plan because that's the role he wants to play. Every major character in this film plays a role, a social and public role, and the clash among these roles is the point of the film. Again, if you're not into this, fine, but it's a matter of genre preference, not an issue of what makes a film good or bad. I like Merchant Ivory films, and when I see one I expect well developed characters. But expecting every film to have them is weird.
Lastly, the question of the plot. The plot is about terrorism and its meaning for those who are, or might be, victims of it. This is an interesting idea and I think it's handled in an interesting way. We're shown both the evils of terrorism and also--this is the controversial part--the opportunities it provides to test our own willingness to be free. If you didn't "get" this when you saw the film, that's cool--but that doesn't mean it wasn't there. It just means you were not, for whatever reason, looking for it.
I usually don't bother to write reviews for big-budget stuff, but something about the hypocrisy of the negative reactions to this film really bothers me. First people claim that the film is too dark, not entertaining enough, etc.--in other words it's not the lightweight fantasy fluff they expect from a comic book movie. They go on to complain that they didn't get it, that it was hard to follow, that the characters were unsympathetic, etc. So basically, they condescend to the film for not being easy to watch, which is not exactly a reason to condescend to a film. Some people want comic book movies to be fun and light and that's okay, but if a director wants to use this genre to do something serious, what's wrong with that? If art directors can make comedies, why can't pop-genre directors make serious "essay" films about serious topics? Maybe some of us can't accept that serious pop-genre films will NEVER look like Atonement or whatever (for one thing, they won't have "deep" characters). For the rest of us, The Dark Knight is a breakthrough.
Born in Flames (1983)
Amazing SF film
Born in Flames is one of those films that people start out discussing with the word "Considering."
"Considering the budget is so low, it's pretty interesting."
"Considering it's so badly edited, it still has some good moments."
"Considering the acting is so poor, its ideas are kind of compelling."
NO.
This is not a film that needs to apologize for anything about itself. It's a great film about revolution that gets more compelling each time you see it. Here's some stuff to notice.
First, this movie could not succeed if it had a bigger budget. It's about trying to make change when you have almost nothing, and its own production values help keep the focus on what feels like a real struggle.
Second, this movie is BRILLIANTLY edited, cutting across three or four different plot lines rapidly to encourage us to connect the dots, to try to figure out how the various characters and perspectives can be seen as a whole. Example: a montage consisting of female hands doing various tasks: filing papers, typing, putting a condom on an erect penis (!!!!!), rinsing dishes. No commentary on this string of images, but what a message this lack of commentary sends! If you've never thought of prostitution as labor, you will after seeing this film.
Third, the bad acting works. Revolutions don't have perfect, adequate actors who are up to the task of fulfilling their roles. They have regular people who are struggling to play their part. Hollywood A-listers would have ruined this point.
I'm not done re-watching Born in Flames, and I'm sure I'll see more as time goes by. For now, though, it's on my list of truly important SF films. See it, teach it, tell your friends.
3 Women (1977)
Altman breaks form . . .
. . . which is a really good thing in this case.
If you've seen other Altman films, you know that he uses a very spontaneous, documentary style that glances here and there, picking up little bits of dialog and character. He lets the story, whatever it is, evolve naturally and doesn't force it.
In this film, things work a little differently. There is a fairly tight, classical story, sort of, even though a couple of big pieces are missing. Moreover, there is a very strong sense of symbolism in almost every shot, from Shelley Duval's first appearance, where she is pictured as a "new woman" displacing an older generation, to the scene where Sissy Spacek playfully puts a noose around her neck, foreshadowing her suicide attempt.
But here's the miracle: even though there's a lot of symbolism, the style still feels very loose and spontaneous and open, just like other Altman films. How this is possible, I don't know, but it's quite an accomplishment--almost unique in cinema, I think, in the way that each frame is simultaneously closed & symbolic but also open & realistic. Really, you have to see it to believe it.
Best of all, the story, which concerns three very different women, is perfectly suited to the style. This is a fable about the way women's identities are changing (or not) and it asks the right questions without giving clear answers.
Actingwise, the real treat here is Shelley Duval as the "new woman," the Cosmo girl, plastic and fake and shallow and miserable and somehow, at the same time, horribly and hilariously alive. You will not forget her, or the double-sided, real/symbolic world she moves in.
The Pianist (2002)
Accomplished but not outstanding
Lots of hype for this film, and some against it as well, and (as is often the case) I think the truth is somewhere in the middle.
On the one hand, this is an exceptionally well-made story in terms of camera work, pacing, editing, and (above all) acting, with Adrien Brody's near-flawless performance anchoring the piece.
On the other hand, this is a very limited tale that doesn't really offer us much new to think about, and frankly doesn't offer us very much, period.
The problem here is a familiar one for intimate dramas like this, which focus mostly on one character. The dilemma is: how can the film show us this one story and, at the same time, connect it to something larger, more meaningful, more complex? Bergman, one imagines, would know how to solve this problem. Polanski, I think, does not, and modestly tells his story in a fairly straightforward and uncomplicated way.
Naturally, since the subject of this film is the holocaust, I kind of wish I could say more either to praise it (for representing its subject well) or to condemn it (for representing its subject badly). But there isn't much more to say. Telling even one survivor's story is, obviously, a very laudable thing to do, but it hardly makes the film one of the greatest of all time--or one of the greatest holocaust films, either.
La battaglia di Algeri (1966)
a perfect docudrama with no equals
It would be a mistake to think that what you see in Battle of Algiers is an unbiased account of Algerian history, and it would probably be an even bigger mistake to use the events of this film as your sole guide for understanding, say, the US occupation of Iraq. That said, I think this is one of the best films ever made about the nature of war--why people fight, and what they become by fighting.
The main topic of the film is nationalism, and the Algerian struggle to become a nation is its plot. The people of Algeria are the protagonists and Pontecorvo doesn't really conceal his sympathy for them. Nor should he, when you consider the history of oppression, exploitation and broken promises that characterized French rule.
But even though the Algerians are the protagonists, they are not exactly the good guys. We are shown the deliberate and determined way in which they target civilians through acts of terrorism, and the way that they turn against their fellow Algerians when they won't join the struggle (or won't dress or act the way they are told to).
Ultimately there are no good guys per se, and Pontecorvo is careful to show the brutality and the suffering of both sides of the conflict. Some of the French participants are portrayed as cardboard villains, but there are some subtler figures as well, particularly the French colonel who remarks that he dislikes Sartre, but "likes him even less as an enemy."
The subjects being shot are all non-professional actors (with one exception) and frequently they are acting out a second time what they actually did in real life some few years earlier. Their simple presence on screen is powerful, and Potecorvo's way of seeing them combines grainy, documentary realism with astounding moments of visual poetry. There are shots in this film that have a magic Bresson would envy.
The main gift this film gives to Western viewers is an opportunity to see struggling (and non-white, non-Western) nations as the heroes of their own story, rather than as bit players in a story about the triumph of the US and Europe. This point of view will be an invaluable one in the decades to come; we'll need it to make new allies, as well as to defend against new enemies. Battle of Algiers reminds us that the desire to create one's own destiny (or the destiny of one's nation) is a human quality and not an American one.
If you couldn't care less about the politics, you can take Battle of Algiers as a complex portrait of human nature in the modern era: courageous and noble, but also brutal and ruthless. Or, if that's still too highbrow for you, just watch it as an exciting and realistic war movie that makes Saving Private Ryan look Hollywood fake by comparison.