Dardenne Brothers come to NY

The Belgian directorial brothers will come to New York on May 29th at the Lincoln Center.

Their films have been praised by critics for it's naturalistic feel which address social issues. The brothers have won the Palm d'Or at Cannes twice (Rosetta (1999) and L'Enfant (2005)). Their latest film Lorna's Silence won best screenplay at Cannes last year.

Click here for tickets and the full program!

Substance of Style: Wes Anderson

I found a very interesting video essay on the filmmaking style of Wes Anderson. It's worth checking out and could potentially help your own perspective in filmmaking. There are a total of 5 parts!

Click here for the essay (Pt. 1). The link to the video is right underneath the picture.

NOGAMI discusses KUROSAWA

THE FOLLOWING IS FROM THE CRITERION COLLECTION WEBSITE:

Writer, critic, and film lecturer Teruyo Nogami also served as one of Akira Kurosawa’s principal assistants. Hired as script supervisor on 1950’s Rashomon, Nogami went on to work on all of Kurosawa’s subsequent films, later chronicling their unique relationship in her 2001 illustrated memoir Waiting on the Weather: Making Movies with Akira Kurosawa. We asked Nogami to recall what it was like on the set of Dodes’ka-den, a film that came at a crucial point in the master filmmaker’s life. Nogami also contributed original sketches, inspired by Dodes’ka-den, for this release.

Can you tell us a few stories from the film’s production?

A lot did happen, but one episode that particularly stands out in my mind came on the first day of shooting. That was April 23, 1970. The previous year, after Kurosawa was let go as director of Twentieth Century Fox’s Tora! Tora! Tora!, a rumor got started that his mental health was deteriorating, so to lay that notion to rest he needed to make a good film. With the help of many people, now he was finally able to do that. Production got started on his first film in five years, after Red Beard, with a scene where the character Rokuchan is driving an imaginary streetcar. They rehearsed it again and again, and at last they were ready for a take. Kurosawa’s voice rang out: “Places!” Then, after a pause, “Action!” His voice had a quaver in it, even a hint of tears. When the crew and cast heard him, everyone thought, Ah, the old Kurosawa is back. The mood was electric. I’ll never forget how moving it was.

Did Kurosawa have any concerns or hesitations about working in color?

Well, Kurosawa was also a painter, you know, so of course he enjoyed the chance to use color for the first time. I remember he told the crew to come to work in colorful clothes. He said that now that we were working in color, we might as well have a good time. For the colors on the set, he had an assistant hold a paint box while he held the brush and painted for all he was worth.

For Dodes’ka-den, he made the choice to work with a whole new cast of actors. Did this in any way alter his method of directing them?

It’s true, a lot of the actors had never been in a Kurosawa film before. One of them, Junzaburo Ban, was used to doing comedy. He had the difficult role of Shima. Ban had a tough time memorizing long dialogue, but one nine-minute scene had to be shot all in one take. It’s the scene where Shima invites people over to his house to drink sake. The guests complain that Shima’s wife is acting high-handed, and things degenerate from there. It’s a good scene, but Ban was so nervous that they had to do endless retakes. Each time, a production assistant had to replace the film roll. The old Kurosawa would have lost his temper and started yelling, but instead, every time, he just said gently, “All right, let’s try it again.” When they finally made it through the nine minutes, Kurosawa went over to Ban and said, “Good job.” Ban sank to the floor as if all the strength had drained out of him, and shook hands with the director with tears in his eyes.

Another example: Kamatari Fujiwara played an old man who says he wants to die, that he doesn’t want to live another day, and Atsushi Watanabe played a sharp-witted old man who gives him a digestive, telling him it’s poison. The two of them had a great eight-minute scene, full of terrific dialogue, but Fujiwara was famous for his inability to memorize his lines; he just couldn’t seem to come up with them. Finally Kurosawa had had enough and ordered me to give him prompts. That was fine as long as we were rehearsing, but if I did it during a take, my voice would be recorded too. Still, without prompts Fujiwara kept messing up his lines, so in the end I had to deliver them in a loud voice that was recorded right along with the actors’. I remember that afterward they had a devil of a time deleting my voice from the tape.

What was Kurosawa’s mood like during this production?

This is sheer conjecture on my part, but I suspect he was reacting to what went wrong on Tora! Tora! Tora!—making a kind of rebuttal. For one thing, I never saw him so quiet and undemanding on a set before. For another, he actually finished two months ahead of schedule. The film was in the can in just twenty-seven days. He even came out and told us, “This time I want to make a film that’s sunny, light, and endearing.” You know the scene where Rokuchan, the retarded boy, runs along, saying “Dodes’ka-den, dodes’ka-den” [clickety-clack], while neighborhood kids throw stones at him and shout, “Trolley-crazy! Trolley-crazy!”? Every time I watch it, I get a lump in my throat. I imagine Rokuchan as Kurosawa, with people yelling “Movie-crazy! Movie-crazy!” at him.

Was he personally satisfied with the final film?

On the last day, we were again in the “town without seasons”—that’s the title of the book the film was based on—a set that was erected in a dump in the plebeian, “low town” section of Tokyo. While the stagehands were cleaning up, Kurosawa stood all alone in the middle of the set. He told me afterward how lonely he felt: “I hated to think I’d never see any of them again—Rokuchan, Shima, Tanba, and all the others who’d lived there, all the characters in the film. It got to me. I couldn’t bear to leave.” After Red Beard, he’d endured five years of inactivity, at the mercy of Hollywood financing. He may have been anxious about what lay ahead in the next five years too.

Can you recall for us Kurosawa’s difficult period soon after the film’s release?

On December 22, 1971, Kurosawa attempted suicide in the bath. At the time, I was working for an advertising agency, so I found out about it by seeing the front-page headline. I rushed straight to the hospital. He had bandages wrapped around his neck and arm—the sight was just pitiful. When I showed him the Christmas tree ornaments I’d brought, he waved a hand at the wall and said to hang them up there. I wanted to ask why on earth he’d done such a foolish thing, but before I could get the words out, he just said, “Sorry.”

After that, even when we traveled to the USSR, foreign reporters had no compunction about asking Kurosawa straight out why he’d wanted to kill himself. He always answered the same way: “At the time, I couldn’t bear to go on living, not for one more minute or second.” What made his life so unbearable he never said.

What stands out for you most when thinking about this film?

I was happy to be working with Kurosawa again for the first time in a while, but I did have the feeling that he was recuperating, that he wasn’t operating at full strength. I think Tora! Tora! Tora! had been a huge shock to him. On the set, he never yelled at anyone the way he always used to. He was always smiling, always gentle with the crew. What I think he probably enjoyed more than anything was the chance to do his own painting in color. At first, all the drawings on the walls of Rokuchan’s house were ones that he himself had done at home. But when he hung them up and looked them over, he decided they were too grown-up. He’d tried his best to paint like a child, but when he saw it didn’t work, he got schoolchildren to paint pictures of streetcars and used those instead. He never used the pictures that he’d stayed up all night to paint. That’s the side of Kurosawa that I admired; that’s the Kurosawa I loved.

Translated by Juliet Winters Carpenter

TAKASHI MIIKE IN NY!!

I was told by somebody today after kendo class that director Miike will be in town this Saturday. I was just on the Japan Society website yesterday and I didn't see it so I was skeptical. When I went home to verify, sure enough, it was there!

So...

Takashi Miike, director of such films as Audition, Ichi, the Killer, and Visitor Q, will be giving a lecture on his filmmaking behind the scenes this Saturday (2/7) at 2 PM at the Japan Society. Make sure to call the box office for tickets before hand. It's only $7 for students! Also, there's going to be a reception following the lecture so you can meet him in person! 

Here is the official website!

Be sure to check it out!!

Art Theatre Guild of Japan Showcases Films in NY

Beginning February 18th to March 1st, the Japan Society will be screening selected works from the Art Theater Guild (ATG). 

The following is from the official website:

Founded in 1961 as a distributor of European art films in Japan, the Art Theater Guild (ATG) began co-producing independent films in 1967, and quickly established itself as the leading platform for highly experimental and innovative film. For three decades, ATG played a decisive role in the development of art-house films in Japan, often dealing with the most controversial subjects from incest, anarchism, and gay culture to capital punishment. Although many filmmakers such as Nagisa Oshima, Yoshishige Yoshida and Shuji Terayama gained international recognition through their films made in cooperation with ATG, the Art Theatre Guild is still little known outside of Japan. This 12-film series curated by Roland Domenig and Go Hirasawa focuses on the first decade of ATG and on the Shinjuku Bunka, ATG's flagship theater, which formed a unique intersection of filmmakers and artists of all kind in Shinjuku, the center of Japan’s vibrant counterculture.

FEATURED FILMS:

Pitfall (Otoshiana, Hiroshi Teshigahara, 1962) 

Silence Has No Wings (Tobenai chinmoku, Kazuo Kuroki, 1966)

A Man Vanishes (Ningen johatsu, Shohei Imamura, 1967)

Crazy Love (Kureiji rabu, Michio Okabe, 1968)

Death by Hanging (Koshikei, Nagisa Oshima, 1968)

The Inferno of First Love (Hatsukoi jigokuhen, Susumu Hani, 1968)

Double Suicide (Shinju ten no Amijima, Masahiro Shinoda, 1969)

Funeral Parade of Roses (Bara no soretsu, Toshio Matsumoto, 1969)

Eros plus Massacre (Erosu + gyakusatsu, Kiju Yoshida, 1970)

This Transient Life (Mujo, Akio Jissoji, 1970)

Throw Away Your Books, Let's Go into the Street (Sho wo suteyo machi e deyo, Shuji Terayama,1971, pictured)

Ecstasy of the Angels (Tenshi no kokotsu, Koji Wakamatsu, 1972)

Film Essays and Events Around New York City

Last summer at the Herzog discussion, the curator of the program introduced a very useful (and immensely interesting) website where you can find any film related event that is taking place around the world!

You can check it out here at:

www.movingimagesource.us

Not only that, many film essays are also posted up which may come in handy in film classes that you may be taking.

If you are taking SPECIFIC TOPICS: 80'S CINMEA with Professor McElhaney, then you might want to read this article on Independent cinema in America during the 80s. If you were to do one of the essays for his class, I'm sure this site could come in handy.

Also, be sure to check back occasionally because I'll be posting some film related events that are occurring at Hunter and the NYC area. 

NOTORIOUS: The Experience

In the last few years, there has been enough of an explosion of music-biopic pictures to warrant their own category in the Academy Awards. That being said, NOTORIOUS was very much that, another music-biopic.

No doubt Notorius B.I.G., aka Biggie Smalls, aka Christopher George Latore Wallace was one of the most influential figures in rap history, let alone one of the biggest (figuratively and literally) musicians of the nineties, but I, for one, think Biggie deserves a little more than that.

On the other hand, Notorious B.I.G. was a legacy, a controversial figure who ascended from the streets only to wind up crashing in his prime. The story writes itself, no? I didn't have a chance to delve into his music lifestyle at the time it came out (owing to me being too young and too, well, pigmentally challenged.) However, I did have a chance to listen to most of "Life after Death" on a car ride to Brooklyn on a film shoot. In total, Biggie Smalls is an image, a part of time and a place that only comes around once; it was inevitable that he get a movie sooner or later. So, what better place to see it than in Brooklyn?

My first indication of the effect of this film was the presence of PO at the door. My first instincts were only confirmed when I got to the theater. Even though I arrived about a half an hour early, I had to sit in the neck-breaking seats in the very front. As one movie-goer put it, "some good-ass seats."

After a mind-numbing 3 Doors Down National Guard commercial that made me forget what good music sounds like, the "Notorious" Experience began.

What I'm about to write next may be a major spoiler for some of you, but it's more of a statement of fact. The movie starts with, well; to put it bluntly (cough cough,) Biggie gets shot. In one moment, my expectations went down the drain like yesterdays bath water. I had naïvely hoped, in my film-critic's optimism, that George Tillman Jr. and Sean P. Combs could put together something totally original in this age of carbon-copy music biopics.

It seems like at some future date, no matter what genre or artist you are into, there will be a biopic for you. Before I continue with this review, I'll take a moment to spell out the basic formula: young, disillusioned artist is an outcast; he finds music as a channel for his talents and quickly becomes popular; as his star rises, he goes out, screws a lot of women, has a bunch of babies, and does tons of drugs. Finally, he crashes, loses everything, and has to find himself again, either through spirituality, the music, or more drugs and sex.

And, "Notorious" is no exception. If you've seen "Ray," "Walk the Line," "Sid and Nancy," or even, "Walk Hard, The Dewey Cox Story," you've got the basic gist of what happens. Except, in Notorious there are a lot more swearing and titties. I was even waiting for someone to say, "he needs more blankets and less blankets at the same time!"

By the way, Lil' Kim gets all sorts of naked in this move, which no-one has a problem with. (Well, as long as it's not actually her.)

What perturbed me about this film was the handling of the transitions; some scenes would cut through literally years without any explanation. In one cut, Biggie suddenly has another kid. Sometimes it works, however. For example, Biggie goes from talking to Lil' Kim (Naturi Naughton, more like, Naturi HOTton (bad joke,)) to gettin' it ON in one brilliant cut.

To be fair, everyone put in a great performance in this film. Jamal Woolard was thoroughly convincing as the legendary B.I.G. Angela Basset also delivered. Some parts, which weren't over the top or formulaic, were incredibly touching and deep. In one scene, a friend from the streets, who went to jail rather than allow Biggie to sacrifice his burgeoning career, returns to console an ailing Smalls in the hospital after his accident.

But for every place where is shines, "Notorious" falls just as hard. Some of the dialogue was extremely contrived, as if the idea was, "Let's give Biggie the most ghetto thing to say." When informed of his first child, T'Yanna, Smalls responds, "Damn." Also, the whole East-Coast West-Coast rivalry was handled EXTREMELY gingerly, avoiding taking sides at all costs, and defending Biggie's claim at the same time.

Tupac and B.I.G. were portrayed as, if I may insert a white-ism, "bro's." Then, after the 1994 shooting happens, the whole dynamic does a one-eighty. I'm perfectly willing to admit that I'm not the most qualified person to examine hip-hop history (say that three times fast, G,) but it seems to me there's much more to it that what was put on the screen. Moreover, some of the way the material was handled was (for me) a bit tame. If you listen to Biggie's music, he talks about some sick shit. These were people who DID come from the streets, who did deal and struggle and commit various crimes, something which is lost on a polished movie set. It's not enough to throw around the F-word and show some fantastic breasts; everything you hear on a street corner in Brooklyn, for instance, ain't gonna make it up on the B.I.G. Screen. Word.

I guess the final nagging point that I'm hammering away at here is this: Biggie Smalls was such an interesting person and lead such an interesting life that his biopic practically writes itself. Moreover, relying on formulas to tell stories, especially those that could be better told without, is one of my core gripes with Hollywood. It gets to the point where you can set your watch to dramatic events.

Or maybe I'm whipping a dead horse.

So, if you like music biopics, and you like Biggie, "Notorious" is the movie for you. If you don't like music and you don't like movies, then you should probably get out more.

One final note: the fact that Puff Daddy (or Sean "Diddy," or P. Diddy, or Poo Doodley, or whatever he wants to call himself nowadays) did not appear in the movie, but only executive produced it endears me to him just a little bit.

It's just a matter of time before we see the Tupac movie.

Schrader out.

Forgotten in '08: 'Shrooms'

Happy New Year!

In my research for the best (and worst) films of 2008, I came across this little emerald from the land of Leprechauns and whiskey, Ireland. Relative new-comer to the states, Paddy Breathnach directs Pearse Elliott's swan-song of drug use. "Shrooms" tries to combine the usually fraternal "stoner crowd," and "cheezy horror flick crowd" by creating a horror movie centered around the search and consumption of psilocybin mushrooms. 

Rundown of fodder characters:

Tara - Lindsey Haun: The heroine, whose ingestion of an ordinarily toxic mushroom gives her the power to see the future in her dreams. (Most people go to Ireland to kiss the Blarney stone and get the gift of gab, but I think this is a fair trade off.)

Jake - Jack Huston: The dreamy, dark, mysterious, "in the know" character, who rescues Tara from her deadly trip with mouth to mouth, which, when you're dealing with poisoning, is a really REALLY bad idea.

Troy - Max Kasch: A Jay (of "Jay and Silent Bob" fame) lookalike, who astoundingly makes all the other bobble-heads look intelligent by comparison.

Lisa - Maya Hazen: The slightly-hotter-than-the-others chick who contributes nothing to the plot but an endless hatred for anything less pretty than she.

Holly - Alice Greczyn: To call this one the ditz would be like calling Sarah Jessica Parker "the ugly one" in "Sex and the City."

Bluto - Robert Hoffman: See above.

The film centers around a cabal of brainless American brats who travel to the backwoods of Ireland (the mecca of consciousness-expansion) for the sole purpose of "tripping" on "shrooms." Jack, er, I mean, Jake warns the group not to eat Death Cap Shrooms, which look similar to the "magic" variety, but, apparently, Tara was thinking about her hair during that speech, wanders off on her own, and eats one anyway. Now, I wouldn't know anything about Amanita phalloides, but I do know that poisonous mushrooms do a lot of things besides "giving you the gift of foresight." When Tara ingests the cap, she is miraculously able to see the future; when, in reality, she would have jaundice, hypoglycemia, and massive organ failure before erupting in explosive diarrhea, and dying. But that doesn't make for a very attractive film. (Or does it?)

Also, A. phalloides doesn't look anything like in the movie.

Before the halfway point, the entire cast hates one another, and everyone is totally suspicious of each other peeping on their bedroom escapades (or, rather, back-of-a-truck escapades.) Then, Bluto (neither Popeye's arch-nemisis, nor John Belushi in Animal House,) in a funk, drinks an elixir of the stuff, wanders through the woods, where he sees a talking cow, then, inexplicably sticks his manhood into the window of a dilapidated car. And, to make matters worse, while cavorting around in his undershorts, apparently, he had possession of ALL of their cell-phones! Oh no! Good idea alert #1: Give your only means of communication to the dumbest member of the group!

Despite all I might say, this film has THE best depiction of a talking cow EVER in film history.

This is the point at which the film's plot takes off like a truant truck driver, pepped up on goofenthal, with a full tank of gas and a dead hooker in the trunk, as the horror from the film doesn't stem (yuk) from anything relating to the characters, but rather, on situations which could happen, were one to be under the influence of psychedelic drugs. To reiterate: nothing scary actually happens; it's all, "is he/she tripping, or is this actually happening?" Well, put down your hash-pipe, Sgt. Pepper, and light a stick of incense, 'cuz you just described everything in this movie.

So, in their incapacitated states, rather than sitting tight until they sober up and resuming the search with level heads (you know, like sane people would do,) Tara leads a G.I. Joe platoon of buxom ladies into the woods to rescue their dear friend.

Then, of course, Holly comes across a "Blair Witch Project" shelter, which she, of course, runs up to and inquires of the "Deliverance" hill-people for help. They direct her to a phone with the brilliant line: "You asked 'did we have a phone?' You didn't ask 'does it work?'" And, of COURSE! She is mercilessly slaughtered.

Tall, Dark, and Stupid leads Jason Mewes to go find the girls, when they start tripping and slip away with an elegant, "fuck this!" Lisa pushes Tara into a swamp, where she foresees their companion's death… previously… Hey, wait a minute! I thought foresight only worked FORwards! Oh man, somebody sold me some bad A. phalloides.

Anyway, it is then that Tara opens up to her companion about her new skills, to which, Lisa responds by screaming and running into the swamp. Good idea alert #2, when on  mind altering substances in the open, separate from your only companion! And, as if that wasn't good enough, after Lisa has a run in with whatever evil meanie is killing everybody, Tara wanders right in after her!

Somehow, the three remaining survivors meet up in the same dilapitated shack, and are systematically hunted down by the film's villain: A GUY IN A BURLAP SACK WITH A REALLY BIG HUNTING KNIFE. That's it. That's scary. I mean, that's scary? Well, sure, if you're unarmed and on drugs, but, seriously?

The one point this film misses more than anything is, it's always a bad idea to presuppose the audience will be on drugs. First, anything when viewed under the influence of drugs will automatically be "awesome." (Case in point: The "Harold and Kumar" franchise.) Second, anything which is supposed to be viewed while on drugs will be HEINOUS when viewed sober. (Case in point: "HELP!") Third, and finally, if you're going to make a movie about drugs, you'd better be ready to shell out some real dough for trippy special effects. The "tripping" effects in this film were scaled way down (not that I would know, cough, cough,) to little more than a fish-eye lens. (In contrast to say, "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.")

On top of having a plot with the consistency of swiss cheese, this film is home to some dialogue gems such as:

Tara: "Something really shitty could've happened to Bluto!"

To which Troy replies: "Shit happens."

Tara: "I overdosed on the heroin of shrooms!" (Krosman: What does that even mean? Does she need more shrooms to survive?)

Deliverance guy 1

"Lovely tongue on a bull calf."

"Fuck reality." (I think this should have been the tagline.)

T: "I've got a feeling!" (A feeling deep inside, oh yeah!)

L: "The feeling has us in shit creek!" She then pushes Tara into the mud.

Special thanks to Krosman for creative input.

Schrader out.

P.S. While the imdb page lists 2006 as the release date, "Shrooms" was released in the States in '08, so kick yourself for not going to see it in theaters last year.

NEW WEBSITE

The Criterion Collection has just revamped their whole site and it ROCKS!!

They now have films that you can rent online, essays from previous laserdisk editions of their collection, and a forum.

VISIT IT NOW AT WWW.CRITERION.COM

Happy birthday to one of our bloggers

Drinking "Kurosawa" Sake.

Happy Bday, Daigoro!

Nagisa, Godfather, DVDs, and more!

It's been a while since the blog has been updated and many things have been happening since the last entry.

In the midsts of the all the politics, school work, jobs, and other college drama you may be in, New York City has been hosting some great film events.

One of them being the retrospective of the famous Japanese director Nagisa Oshima at the New York Film Festival. Although he may not be a household name in the States when talking about Japanese cinema, he is incredibly well known domestically. His most well known/controversial film, In the Realm of Senses (1976), is still unavailable uncenscored in Japan. Many of his films are being shown at the Lincoln Center. See the full program here for tickets and showtimes.

Also, the Film Forum is showing a new 35mm print of The Godfather Part I and II. Apparently, the print is so incredibly clean and crisp, it's like watching a new film. I wanted to post it up earlier but I just never got the time. Starting today for 2 weeks, they will be showing a Marathon screening of both parts. Just make sure you bring cash if you didn't buy tickets online! I learned the hard way... Check the schedule here.

Now moving on to new Criterion Collection releases: they are now making the transition to Blu-Ray DVDs. Starting November, they will be re-releasing old DVDs (The Third Man, The Last Emperor, The Man Who Fell to Earth) and releasing Wes Anderson's Bottle Rocket and Wong Kar-Wai's Chungking Express on Blu-Ray and regular DVDs. They also have plans to release great films such as Wages of Fear, Contempt, and The 400 Blows later. Also, make sure to check out their Eclipse series which features hard-to-find films by famous directors.

Also, I'm working on a new project which is scheduled to start production in mid-November. I have begun the casting process and will plan to audition in late October. You will find flyers for it next week on the bulletin boards of Hunter so keep a look out for those. For more details, click here. The film is called "Everyman".

The Politics of The Dark Knight

The Dark Knight has been the centerpiece of this Summer's slate of blockbusters. I found it to be surprising intense and cynical for a superhero movie. That said, it was a damn good superhero movie and one worth retrospection. I had some particular thoughts about the political side of the film outlined in a sketch below.

THERE ARE SPOILERS (that, and the unacquainted won't understand what the hell I am talking about. Just see the damn movie already.)



When comic book adaptations come to mind, I've been more disposed to think of the smarmy excesses of Robert Downey, Jr.'s Iron Man or the big, bright CGI cluttered vision of New York in the recent Spiderman series. With The Dark Knight (and like minded forerunner Batman Begins), Christopher Nolan and crew seem hellbent on creating a gritty comic universe, a more realistic reflection of the modern metropolis.

The idea of 'realism' in big screen comic stories is slippery territory. What The Dark Knight has created is a lavish allegory on politics and American manias. Batman is cast- strangely enough for a subterranean, anti-hero- as a conservative superman. Conservatism might be the last tag that comes to mind when thinking of Bruce Wayne and his alter ego but it seems an apt description in Nolan's world.

For one, Batman's dependance on and faith in technology to vanquish his foes is a reminder of America's own technologic and militaristic ventures. 20th century America is bound to be remembered for innovations (often dubious) like the Manhattan Project and the U2 spy plane. This is a nonpartisan fixation but has been marked by distinctly conservative projects like the Regan era Strategic Defense Initiative.

Nolan's Dark Knight takes Batman's traditional utility belt a step further with an endless bevy of vague technological implements that are dispensed with the convenience of plot. If it seems like a bad guy has got Bats on the ropes, then our hero is likely to bust out some obscure device to turn the tables. Batman's cutting edge gear is juxtaposed with the Joker's ramshackle assortment of goods; cell phone rigged bombs and moth eaten suits wired with grenades. A scene late into the movie has Joker in full nurse garb bashing away at a fickle detonator. With Batman cast as conservative hero, this is the perfect image of contrast. Joker is a sexual and political subversive playing with his homemade tech goods.

The film is most aware of this conservative/radical dialectic when Batman employs an experimental radar system to track down the Joker. He creates a city-spanning network that opens up the possibility of spying on any or all of the denizens of Gotham City. This moral dilemma calls to mind the privacy issue in America sparked by Patriot Act. Batman takes advantage of the system despite the resistance of his technological consultant, Lucius Fox. Although the film closes with the destruction of the spy network, a compromise has been made. In the face of defeat, Batman (and in this allegory, America) has suspended morality for the sake of control. While The Dark Knight closes suspended in air, just like the Joker, it does seem to resolve the issue of Batman's heroism with Jim Gordon's epilogue. With Batman re-anointed Gotham's rebel savior, it appears the film endorses his (our) moral lapse.

The French Crime Wave at the Film Forum

I'm not the biggest fan of French New Wave Cinema. However, for a reason I can't fully express in words, I do love Jean-Pierre Melville. Since seeing Le Samourai, I've been religiously watching all of his films that have been released by Criterion (and two more are coming out in October, by the way). His films, although not the greatest, have an extremely interesting and certain appeal to me which ranks him as one of the most interesting filmmakers in my constantly changing list of "favorite directors". So, when I saw that the Film Forum is going to show a few Melville's, I thought that I should share the information.

"The French Crime Wave" event started yesterday and will run until September 11th, which is more than enough time to catch some great films. The Melville films that are going to be screened are Le Cercle Rouge (which is one of my favorite Melville's), Bob le Flambeur, Le Doulos (which comes out on Criterion in October), and Un Flic (which is out of print on DVD).

However, if you are not a big fan of Melville, do not fear. There are tons of other great flicks to check out from New Wave directors such as Truffaut, Godard, Clouzot, and many others!

To see the full program, click HERE!

Madame Kawakita

Wow, I haven't update this thing in a while! Well, I have about one more month of summer left and just when I thought, all the film events were coming to a close in NY, I found one more!

Check it out:

The Film Society of Lincoln Center will pay tribute to “film ambassador” Kashiko Kawakita, on the centenary of her birth, with the film series Japanese Screen Classics: In Honor of Madame Kawakita. Kawakita, who helped establish the Japan Film Library Council, to preserve prints of the finest works of Japanese cinema, and who sat on twenty-six film-festival juries around the world during her lifetime, died in 1993. Beginning this Wednesday, July 30, and running through August 14, the program will feature twenty-four essential films from Japan, all by directors who have won the prestigious Kawakita Award, including Akira Kurosawa, Seijun Suzuki, Kaneto Shindo, Shohei Imamura, and Kon Ichikawa. 

(From the Criterion Collection website)

CLICK THE LINK BELOW FOR MORE DETAILS!!

http://www.filmlinc.com/wrt/onsale/kawakita.html

Asian American International Film Festival

The AAIFF, sponsored by the Asian Society and Asian Cinevision, will begin starting July 10th until July 19th. 

There seems to be many interesting films being screened this year so if you are interested, click here for the full program.

NAKADAI and NOGAMI

Yesterday, Taylor and I went to go see Seppuku (Harakiri) at the Film Forum, which was followed by a Q&A session with the star of the film, Tatsuya Nakadai. There were many great questions. I can't remember all of them but here are a few:

Q:"How much of the film was improvised/ad lib and how much was it scripted?"

A: "Everything was scripted. None of it was improvised."

Q: "How do you feel about the messages of Harakiri?"

A: "Concerning bushido and authority, I feel that every individual should be free to choose how one lives. When I was brought up, I was told that we must give our lives to the Emperor, which of course is not the case today. Nowadays, we are all free to choose how we think which is a great thing."

Q: "How was the film received in Japan?"

A: "The film met with a decent amount of praise in Japan, but the funniest part was at Cannes. During the screening, apparently, at least 10 french ladies fainted at the harakiri scene and so the director and I thought that the film was doomed. However, after the screening, we were met with so much praise that the Japanese media thought that we would win the Grand Prix. I specifically remember going to several interviews being asked how I felt about winning the Grand Prix when the winner wasn't even announced yet. In the end, Luchino Visconti's The Leopard, ended up winning it. At the dinner party, I saw Visconti and Alain Delon celebrating at the other table and we were sort of huddling together in jealousy at our table. It was quite funny."

I also had the great opportunity to ask my own question:

"So I heard a story that during the shooting for this film that you and Rentaro Mikuni had an argument regarding projection of voice. Mikuni, being a film actor, argued that he didn't need to speak loud because the mic was right in front of him but you, being from theatre, argued that you can't respond if you can't hear his lines. Director, Masaki Kobayashi, finally stepped in and stopped shooting for 3 days until you two came to a resolution. Is that true?"

A:"That is absolutely true. During the scenes where we are speaking, the distance was just like where you and I are standing (app. 20 ft.) so it was difficult for me to hear him if he didn't speak loudly. We got into an argument and so the director told us to resolve our conflict and stopped shooting for three days. I can't imagine that happening today in the U.S., or in Japan for that matter, but back then we had lots of time to spare."

So apparently, my question was pretty interesting and a man from the Japan Foundation pulled me to the side and gave me an invitation to a special screening of Ran followed by a reception with Nakadai and Nogami, which was to be held the next day.

Before the screening, however, Nakadai and Nogami visited the Japanese bookstore, Kinokunia (located across the street from Bryant Park), for a book signing. 

Mr. Nakadai signing my Criterion DVD inserts for Harakiri and Ran.

Ms. Nogami signing my copy of her book. She's drawing the Seven Samurai flag t-shirt I was wearing today (or rather yesterday seeing that's it's 1 AM)

After the book signing, I hurried off to the Japan Society and saw Ran again and was blown away. It's really something to see on the big screen. Mr. Nakadai said a few words after the show and then we hurried on to the reception.

Ms. Nogami and I at the reception following Ran.

Mr. Nakadai and I.

Well there are two more chances that I'll see them. One on Tuesday for Nakadai's lecture at 8:20 PM at the Film Forum, and one the next day for Nogami's lecture at 6:30 at the Japan Society. I don't know if tickets are still available but if they are, you should definitely go and check them out!!

50 Years with Akira Kurosawa

Legendary director, Akira Kurosawa's, script supervisor will be coming to New York City on Wednesday the 25th of June to lecture about Kurosawa and the inner workings of his creative mind. Nogami stood by Kurosawa from Rashomon to Madadayo and has been through the ups as well as the downs with the master filmmaker. It's definitely worth checking out and a must if you are a Kurosawa fan.

Click here to buy tickets or to find out more.

Nogami on the far right with actor Toshiro Mifune

in the middle and Kurosawa at the bottom.

Werner Herzog in NYC

Today, I had the great privilege of seeing Jonathan Demme interview Werner Herzog at the Times Center. Demme has created many great movies including the classic Silence of the Lambs and Philadelphia which both won oscars. Herzog is an international phenomena, who has made the legendary Aguirre, the Wrath of God and has recently finished his documentary, Encounters at the End of the World. 

To give you a little sense of what Herzog's past was like, he grew up in the remote mountains of Bavaria, Germany and saw no film, TV, or radio during his childhood. He started traveling on foot at the age of 14 and made his first film when he was 19 (by stealing a camera). Despite this, he is one of the most interesting (and great) filmmakers today.

Like the Gondry interview, I did record the whole conversation so if anybody is interested, please let me know. 

Demme and Herzog started out by discussing a letter Roger Ebert has sent to Herzog expressing his admiration toward his works (which could be found on Ebert's site), then transitioned into some aspects of Aguirre, particularly the river scene after the people descend the mountain. Herzog explained how he had his DP hold the shot of the river to get a sense of the rage and anger of the water, which will ultimately be the demise of the soldiers. He also talked about filmmaking in general and his take on sound in his films. He also went on to speak about various other things (such as his relationship with Rainer Werner Fassbinder) but what I found the most interesting was when he talked about what makes a filmmaker. 

"You have to know the heart of men. If you don't, you are not a filmmaker". 

-Werner Herzog

I think that's very true, especially for young student filmmakers, like myself, who may get too absorbed in the technical aspects that they forget what is most important: the connection with the audience. I could be speaking for myself, but sometimes I feel that I lose that connection with people or I'm not connecting enough. I don't know if everybody knows the "heart of men" but I think it's something many filmmakers (or at least I) should be aware of. 

On a different note, some of you may have already heard the news but two guys climbed the New York Times building today. Right before the Herzog interview, I was waiting for my good friend Nestor, when spider-man started scaling the wall in front of my eyes. It was quite a feat.

Crazy things happen when Herzog is around...

While we're still on the topic...

Professor Ramin Bahrani was featured again, this time on a bi-weekly podcast I listen to called "filmschool". They interview independent filmmakers and various indie festival officials about the making of their films and some significant news in the industry. You can listen to the podcast by subscribing to it on iTunes or you can download the Bahrani episode by clicking here.

They also interviewed Hunter alumnus director Guy Moshe about his first film Holly. That could be downloaded here.

Bahrani's Favorite Criterions

Professor Ramin Bahrani of Hunter College shared some of his favorite Criterion Collection DVDs in the most recent newsletter. If I remember correctly, last semester he taught screenwriting. Anyway, check it out:

My Top Ten Criterions*
Ramin Bahrani
Writer-director Ramin Bahrani’s first two feature films, Man Push Cart (2005) and Chop Shop (2007) have won awards and acclaim all over the world, from Venice to Cannes to the U.S. Chop Shop also won Bahrani the Someone to Watch Independent Spirit Award in 2008. Bahrani is currently in postproduction on his third feature, Goodbye Solo.

1. Nanook of the North Robert Flaherty

Robert Flaherty set his camera down and had the audacity and humanity to step back. I like Man of Aran even better. Without these films there would not have been La terra trema, Rome Open City, Bicycle Thieves, Where Is the Friend’s House?, Il posto . . . Such simple and moving storytelling, and so profoundly in touch with what it means to be human in this world. He has forever erased the line between fiction and documentary. What is left, fabricated or not, is a visual poem that challenges how we live and how we see, and all the while accepting life for what it is.


2. Mama Roma Pier Paolo Pasolini

Pasolini was murdered for a reason: he was a real artist with something to say that too many people did not want to hear. Nobody brings as much love and anger, and challenges and questions, as PPP. His films explode with life and energy, politics, religion, doubt, devotion, humor, and irony, and force you to rethink everything in your life and outside your life. Each frame is a revolution and a dare to the viewer. Bertolucci said, “You can tell when Pasolini puts the pen down and picks up the camera.” Which other filmmakers can claim that this quote would be true of them? A devastating majority of films are just filmed screenplays. Pasolini belongs to the rare group of artists who make films. Empty yourself, wash your eyes and ears, and for the first time really watch and listen to what the master has to say.


3. The Flowers of St. Francis Roberto Rossellini 

My favorite from Rossellini. A sublime call to us all to be good, even at our own expense. Ten times more subversive and inspiring than any in the long list of meaningless yet much-lauded films made about the “lessons” of war, injustice, and inhumanity. This is the film everyone should have been watching in the last eight years. Fellini’s humor and Rossellini’s ironic wit are at their very best here. The monks are brilliant in their roles. A must-see gem.


4. Il posto Ermanno Olmi
A great Italian film from the often ignored Olmi (please also see The Tree of Wooden Clogs). The scenes between young Domenico and Antonietta are so real you will think you have witnessed them yourself while standing outside a café window. Wonderful mix of humor and sadness, and of lightness in the face of the eternal meaninglessness of society’s damning labyrinth. The scenes go by so effortlessly, yet by the end you’re profoundly moved without understanding how Olmi has done it.


5. Umberto D. Vittorio De Sica

I first saw this as a college student at one of the city’s repertory cinemas, in the early nineties, and will never forget it. One of the most simple and moving films ever made about man not losing his dignity in the face of our eternal fate and society’s greed. How to stay alive and human when you are no longer useful to our indifferent world? How to maintain hope when all that is left is to turn into the dust from which we came?


6. L’avventura Michelanglo Antonini

Every director should have a respect for the frame, and here Antonioni reminds us of that lesson shot after shot. He shocked Cannes but without being exploitative, which is more than most enfants terribles in Cannes’ history can claim. Antonioni shocked by being a ruefully disturbing mirror into the souls of his generation. Sandro’s empty desires, and Claudia’s blind and desperate search for meaning and connection in the deadly silence of life, are as true to our times as to when the film was made. Monica Vitti astounds with her beauty and her mystery, and Antonioni’s courage to explain nothing but allow us to feel and question everything is a testament to his brilliance.


7. Au hasard Balthazar Robert Bresson 

One lesson after another from the master to all his students. A film that makes you ashamed to be part of the human race, and then fills you with the courage to be better.


8. Scenes from a Marriage (full TV version) Ingmar Bergman

A great first-date movie! Well . . . perhaps not. I have never seen a more truthful and honest account of human relationships. Shockingly simple in its creation, once again proving how hard it is to be simple and how it is usually much more profound. Bergman keeps cutting away to reveal more, not less. He has done the difficult and dirty work for us. Watch and accept the truth about our relationships, and then, like all of mankind, try to avoid your fate.


9. Nights of Cabria Federico Fellini 

Along with La dolce vita and I vitelloni, my favorite from Fellini. So much love and hope in the face of the bastards who seem to run this world. Masina is brilliant and PPP’s dialogues and understanding of the “wretched of the earth” are perhaps Fellini’s good karma for the gifts he brought Rossellini in The Flowers of St. Francis seven years prior. Daring, loving, and painful. Thank you for not ending this one at the sea, but instead on the road, with trees, music, tears, and smiles—a real carnival in the face of death.


10. Seven Samurai Akira Kurosawa

Lessons one through one hundred in how to write, shoot, direct, and edit a film. Sit down and enjoy.

*Taken from the Criterion Collection Website