Saturday, 27 February 2010

Zodiac (2007)


2007, it is often said, is one of the best years for cinema of the past decades. In the Coen's No Country For Old Men and Paul Thomas Anderson's There Will Be Blood, it is quite simple, we have two bona-fide masterpieces that will be remembered for years to come. Gus Van Sant's Paranoid Park ain't bad too. Perhaps including the Academy-overlooked Zodiac in the bracket of masterpiece, or pretty close to it, wouldn't be too far from the truth.

The film tells the true to life story of the mysterious Zodiac killer who was never caught. The paranoia begins with a letter that arrives in the mail at the headquarters of the San Francisco Chronicle newspaper. The letters are encrypted with codes and make little sense. An employee there, political cartoonist Robert Graysmith (Jake Gyllenhaal) shows the most interest in the letters but due to his status within the company, he is not taken seriously by his peers. However, Graysmith is able to crack one of the codes, thus enabling him to become a part of the attempts to solve the case.

Zodiac isn't a film that tells the story of a serial killer from their point of view as they meticulously hunt down their victims. For sure, the film does show three of the Zodiac's murder that are shot with a genuine sense of realism with Fincher refusing to glorify the killings for the sake of visual enhancement. But most of the film is dedicated to showing how the police try and fail to solve the case of exactly who is guilty for commit the several murders. They continue to try, get a little further and then fail again until the majority of them give up. All except one man.

When it comes to noteworthy performances I was really, really impressed by Jake Gyllenhaal. I've only seen him in Donnie Darko, Jarhead and The Day After Tomorrow, and in all three, although adequately acted, I was never struck by anything overly special. However, his performance in Zodiac perfectly illustrates the obsession that his character Robert has with the Zodiac case. Just look how many years pass throughout the course of the film, and still, even as time passes into the 1980's Gyllenhaal still manages to portray the fixation controlling Robert's life perfectly.

I'm first to admit that I didn't absorb every detail contained within the picture. First of all, at 156 minutes, it's longer than most films but the task of understanding every little intricacy is made ever harder by the plethora of characters, the fast yet perfectly pitched pace and the intensity of the well-written dialogue. However, this does not detract from the overall pleasure gained on a first viewing. It is still a mesmerizing watch and a film that I'm sure will benefit from multiple rewatches, thus allowing for all of the minor details to tie together nicely.

Many viewers will be wrongfully frustrated by how the film turns out. Zodiac isn't a film that can have a nicely rounded ending, with all burning questions answered. But this cannot be avoided, after all the film is based on a true story and the Zodiac killer was never caught, so Fincher cannot provide us with a satisfying conclusion. But what he does do, through his flawless direction, is create a fascinating yet strangely unsettling film that hinges on the absolute persistence of one man to solve. Despite being shot digitally, the cinematography is at times gorgeous, probably the most visually impressive digital film I've seen aside from David Lynch's Inland Empire.

Further, Zodiac is noticeably void of many 'action' sequences. There are no car chases, no shootouts, no rise and fall of climatic events. It's not a film that requires them and for me, this was a breath of fresh air.

David Fincher is one of the most talented, stylish and intense directors working today. His filmography includes Fight Club, a film that seems to have universal love and Se7en, another film about serial killers. These two are labelled by many as modern day masterpieces, but in Zodiac, Fincher has created his best film to date that for me simply aside the two aforementioned films. It's an intense, seemingly very accurate depiction of the ways in which police work genuinely does function and the frustration that can occur when they don't always strike gold.


Rating: 9/10

Thursday, 25 February 2010

Irreversible (2002)

"Time destroys everything."

If approached by a man who informs you that he can tell you of your future would you want him to go on? Are we happy to live our lives not knowing what lurks around the corner or would we prefer to know? Decide for yourself.

Irreversible tells the chronological story of a couple, Marcus (Vincent Cassel) and Alex (Monica Bellucci) and their best friend and Alex's ex-partner Pierre (Albert Dupontel). Marcus and Alex are deeply in love. Alex has just found out that she is pregnant and Marcus is clearly delighted at the prospect. The two are the epitome of happiness. The trio are spending the night at a house party. Whilst there, Marcus high on drugs, and probably drunk as well, acts very flirtatiously with other women, much to the distaste of Alex who informs him that she is leaving the party and intends to take a taxi home. After struggling to cross a busy road she is told by a passer-by to take the underground passageway, which she does. Whilst beneath the road, Alex is brutally raped and beaten for a lengthy nine minutes. A while later, Marcus discovers her body being wheeled onto the back of an ambulance and is informed by the paramedic that Alex is in a coma. Incensed, Marcus and Pierre are led on a revenge quest to find the perpetrator, which eventually leads the pair to a gay bar called The Rectum.

However, where Irreversible differs from most films is that, like Christopher Nolan's Memento, it tells this story in reverse chronological order. The first 45 minutes of Gasper Noe's highly controversial 2002 effort are tough going and many film-goers won't make it past them. Everything you can think of that is often deemed morally repugnant is included here; explicit homosexual language and content, racism, savage and brutal violence and more which culminates in the punishing unbroken, nine minute long rape scene which is unbearable to watch. Noe refuses to take his camera away from the attack, subjecting the viewer to nine of the longest minutes you are likely to ever sit through. Heads have to be turned away, eyes have to be closed but still, the sound of Alex screaming at the top of her lungs and the aggressive tone of the rapist's voice as he asks her to call him 'Daddy' refuse to go away. And all this occurs after we have already sat through another static shot focused on Pierre as he beats a man who he thinks is the rapist, several times over the head with a fire extinguisher.

The rest of the film which tells the beginning of the film chronologically actually make for pleasant viewing. The scenes on the Metro make for some light-hearted, even humorous moments as Pierre tries to figure out why Alex didn't rate him in bed. At the very end (the beginning) we see Marcus and Alex at their most comfortable which each other. The chemistry is excellent, unsurprisingly so seeing as the pair were married in real life (and still are).

I began my review by raising a relevant question regarding whether we would like to be able to know our futures and I think this is a major reason why Noe decided to reverse the chronology like he does. This isn't a film that aims to show us the happiness and then shock us into seeing everything fall apart for the pair. The shocks come at the very start, before we really even feel anything for the characters. In actual fact, Marcus is the first character that we see being overtly violent, yet he is not the evil here.

By getting the shocks 'out of the way' so to speak, Noe gives us time to reflect on what has happened (or what will eventually come to happen). For example, at the party, Alex now comes across as vulnerable, in a way that she wouldn't have done had the film played out in order. Her perfect body and revealing dress have us wishing it was otherwise. Some of the conversations hint at things that are yet to come and the colour of red on the wall of the house from the party that we see just before Alex leaves act as a warning of what is about to take place.

If you can overlook the film's brutality, on a technical level the film is very impressive. The swirling cameras and pulsating sound effects create a tense atmosphere which brilliantly illustrates the chaos surrounding the search for the rapist undertaken by Marcus and Pierre. The conversations are mostly improvised, heightening the sense of realism. The twelve or thirteen scenes that make up the film are all shot in a single take each (even if clever editing helps to make it this way).

I'm unsure on
it's rewatchability and whether it will be as affective second time around, once you are already familiar with how it unfolds. Regardless, this is an impressive film and an original one at that. It's a film that aims to show just how thin of a thread happiness hangs on and how quickly that thread can be broken and lives altered forever and it's quite unsettling to see quickly Gasper Noe thinks that can happen.


Rating: 8.5/10

Wednesday, 17 February 2010

Dancer in the Dark (2000)


Lars Von Trier is making a name for himself as one of the most talented, unique yet highly controversial directors working today.
. His latest film, Antichrist has had critics in a bit of a fluster due to scenes of extreme violence and genital mutilation, and this, Dancer in the Dark, was the focus of similar critical division back in 2000. As a maker of films, he is not one to sugarcoat his audience, opting instead to achieve what he wants by whatever means he feels necessary, no matter how divisive they may come to be. But this is a musical I hear you say, a genre notoriously dead in the water, so void of any originality that it seems almost counter-intuitive to suggest anyone would have the audacity or indeed the talent to reinvent it. Well that is exactly what Mr. Von Trier has done. This is a musical like no other you have ever seen in your life.

The film, starring Icelandic singer Bjork, Catherine Deneuve (Repulsion, Belle de Jour) and David Morse (Disturbia, Twelve Monkeys), tells the story of Selma, a Czech immigrant now living in America with her son Gene. Selma suffers from a hereditary condition which is slowly causing her to go blind. She works in a factory solely to raise money for an operation for Gene which would stop him from suffering from the same condition, thus saving his sight. She stores her money in a little pink tin in her home, which she rents from the town policeman Bill and his wife Linda.

Selma has an amazing singing voice (unsurprising since she is played by Bjork) and is a big fan of musicals (in fact she is currently rehearsing the role of Maria, from The Sound of Music) and this together with the triviality and bleakness of her life causes her daydream often, daydreams in which she imagines she is the leading lady in big Hollywood musical scores.


It is in these musical scores that the film really shines as a fabulously unique piece of work. There is something pulsating, something rhythmic about them. You can sense them coming, slowly, as Selma, using only the cacophony of noises from her surroundings (i.e. factory noise, the noise of a train moving down the track, the footsteps of the prison guards) then suddenly bursts into song and those people around her become the backing dancers. The sequences really grab a hold of you, they are the most pleasurable and enjoyable parts of the film and are masterfully edited. 100% film genius.

This is not a film that intends to visually satisfy you. In fact, von Trier has done his best to achieve the opposite. Staying partially loyal to his Dogme-95 statement, whereby films are made using hand-hand digital camera (in this case a pretty dowdy looking one) to create a documentary-style feel, Dancer in the Dark does not look 'nice'. But this rule of thumb is abandoned when Selma abandons the reality of her life. Then, the cameras become static, the colours are vibrant, and this echoes how musicals really are, colourful, detached from reality just as Selma is momentarily lost in a world in which she wishes she could permanently be.

But it is not all song and dance. In fact the musical side of the film does not really dominant. On top of this there is devastating emotional content touching on themes of staying true to yourself in the face of those who abuse the trust that you place upon them. This manifests through the actions of Bill, who steals the money that Selma has been saving up. These leads to a really unpleasant scene where Selma murders Bill and thus is arrested and placed on death row. The final scene, of which I will not spoil, is one of the much emotionally impacting pieces of cinema I have ever seen. A truly incredible way to end the film.

Dancer in the Dark is a film that thrives on the wonderful performance that Bjork gives and a lot of credit must be given to von Trier for having the vision and confidence in Bjork to come up with such a role. Selma, is a likable character and one who you no doubt will empathize with massively. It seems so rare that a female gives such an amazing performance in a lead role, but Bjork delivers what is probably the best I have ever seen.

It is a shame that the state of cinema in the modern era means that many will not see this conventional shattering masterpiece and winner of the Palme d'Or. It is a truly original piece of work, a re-imagining of a genre that usually tends to regurgitate itself time and time again. This is a truly remarkable piece of work.


Rating: 10/10

Friday, 5 February 2010

Aguirre The Wrath of God (1972)


In my foray through classic cinema, there has always been something about Werner Herzog's tale of the search for the lost city of El Dorado that has not taken to my fancy, so much so that I have put off a viewing of it for almost two years. However, it's status as a classic, as a must-see is too strong and this week I finally laid my hands on a copy. So the question is, were my presuppositions about the film justified? Absolutely not...

...and it didn't take long for them to be quelled either. From the very first shot of Aguirre: The Wrath of God, I was mesmerized. This shot, of which I have tried to aid my description of, by providing an image of it below, is of the Spanish conquistadors descending down a mountain into the jungle below. The foggy conditions and the haunting, hypnotic score in the background help to establish an immediate sense of unease and reluctance to continue this journey of which we have now become a part of. We see no summit of the mountain; the Spanish are descending, we see no goal to which they are aiming to attain. Within minutes, Herzog has managed to get across to the viewer the inescapable, foreboding sense of doom facing these conquistadors, and he does this in a remarkable fashion. The journey facing these men is going to be a difficult one and there seems little chance of success.



Once this impressive first, pre-credit shot, is over, we learn that under the command of Pizarro, a small group of men will be sent down river on man-made rafts in search of gold in the lost city of El Dorado. They are given a time limit; one week to return with news or they will be considered lost, presumed dead. Aguirre (played by the impressive Klaude Kinski, in the first of his collaborations with director Herzog) is put second in command. What follows is the rather quick process of Aguirre's rise to domination over his fellow conquistador's. And then, for want of a better way of describing the following turn of events...things happen. People die, horses go crazy, dead bodies are mysteriously found, the few remaining survivors of what has become a doomed trip go hungry and hallucinate, disillusioned men walk off into the forest never to be seen again, Indians open fire and kill all. All except Aguirre. Aguirre doesn't die (although how could he possibly go on after the camera stops rolling?), Aguirre doesn't starve or hallucinate, or get hit by an arrow.

And then, just as the film began with an impressive shot, it ends with one too. As the camera swirls around the raft, we see Aguirre standing tall, surrounded by corpses, refusing to accept defeat, perhaps with further plans of how to go on alone already being formulated. A truly memorable way to conclude a film that packs a punch of monumental impact. Aguirre: The Wrath of God truly is an impact film. It's been nearly a week since I watched it, and I still cannot get some these two shots in particular out of my head, so much so that they compelled me to write down my thoughts.

This is not a film that uses action sequences to link up scenes towards an ultimate plot end. (There is never, in my mind, any question regarding whether the group will reach the lost city or not). What it is is a film that thrives on the desire for power, the force of nature, the madness of it's lead character and the stubborn beliefs that he holds. None of the other characters really seem to matter; this is all about Aguirre, as the title may suggest. It is all about his mistaken vision that he could achieve great things, that he was somehow superior, that he could overcome all the odds to secure power. Atmospheric, haunting and bold and made under conditions so intense that describing them as 'difficult' is simply and under-statement;
this is a near-masterpiece.


Rating: 9/10