obscure movie pick: The Brothers Bloom

Though not that obscure, The Brothers Bloom is a movie more people need to know about. Director and writer Rian Johnson's second film (his first being the cult film noir Brick), The Brothers Bloom is at first hilarious, then profound, then gripping, and finally tragically moving. Starring Adrien Brody, Mark Ruffalo, Rinko Kikuchi, and the stunning Rachel Weisz, it's about two con-men (the aforementioned brothers) in quite the love/hate relationship. The younger, Bloom played by Brody, has been living a lie his entire life and he's tired of it, playing the charming male lead in all of his brother's con's. He wants what he calls an "unwritten life" (don't we all?) and eventually agrees to one last con before he gives it up for good. That last con is on Weisz's character, Penelope, a rich recluse who is more than they ever could've realised.


The Brothers Bloom is hilariously quirky with a style and comic sensibility similar to Wes Anderson's best and without the lack of substance that afflicted Anderson's last film (mind you I haven't seen Fantastic Mr. Fox). It's comedy early on is quick and dry, just the way I like it. But this is only the film's face. Underneath one finds a profound statement on not only the way we lead our lives but also the way we perceive them from afar. Is it possible to live genuinely, or are we all con-men of sorts? Is it true, as Ruffalo's character states, that "there's no such thing as an unwritten life, just a badly written one?" Definitely something to think about.

Sure it's not a perfect film. Something went a little wrong in the editing department and the pacing can be a little odd if confusing at times (before it picks up again) but for the first time in a long time, I very much disagree with most critics on this one; I quite loved The Brothers Bloom.

THE list of the decade

Why am i so obsessed with making lists and reading lists and obsessing over lists...

Speaking of lists, while I've been working on this list of the best/my favorite films of the past 10 years (really 9 and 3/4) I came across: 1) An even better idea and 2) a couple other lists I made in the past.

My even better idea (though, don't worry, I'm still producing that best films list) is a list of the best artists of the decade, regardless of medium. This list would include visual artists, musicians, film directors and actors (and maybe cinematographers and writers), architects, and perhaps writers(though I'm not exactly an expert on the subject). I've come up with a rough sketch but was wondering if others could help. Not sure how many readers, if any, I have out there, but what do you think are the best artists of the decade past? Let me know and they probably will make it on my list.

Some of (many of) these could go. Here's what I got so far:

Michael Haneke

Jean-Pierre Dardenne and Luc Dardenne - really hit their stride in the 2000s with Le Fils in 2003 and L'Enfant in 2006.

Alejandro González Iñárritu

Alfonso Cuarón
Werner Herzog

Paul Greengrass

Ryan Gosling

Paul Giamatti

Daniel Day-Lewis

Cate Blanchett

Penelope Cruz

Tilda Swinton

Meryl Streep - played out but never overrated.

Judd Apatow - for better or worse.

Charlie Kaufman

Spike Jonze

Wes Anderson

Michel Gondry

Gus Van Sant

Pixar

Jeff Koons (?)

Damien Hirst - though his heyday might've been the 90s, Hirst continued in popularity and critical acclaim in the 2000s.

Olafur Eliasson

Doug Aitken

Paul Chan

Pipilotti Rist

Tracey Emin

Cai Guo-Qiang

Neo Rauch

Jesper Just

TM Sisters

Christo and Jeanne-Claude - sure they had the 80s and 90s (and the 70s for that matter) but what about The Gates?! This blog hearts Christo and Jeanne-Claude.

TV on the Radio

Arcade Fire

Animal Collective

Panda Bear

Girl Talk

Dan Deacon

Kanye West

M.I.A.

The Raveonettes

Cat Power

Madvillain - seperately and together.

Wilco

Bierut

Sufjan Stevens

The White Stripes - sorry, had to.

Outkast

Jay-Z

Danger Mouse

Radiohead

T-Pain (?)

Jens Lekman

Herzog & de Meuron

Dave Eggers

Need more visual artists. Need MANY more architects. And I might just leave writers out all together. Lets see how this list pans out in the weeks to come...

In the meantime, here's a list I came up with a year or two ago: the best films on the "female experience." Yes, I know. This is from a guy. So really, what do I know?! These are all films that I feel epitomize what it means to be a women, with all it's struggle and passion, accurately chronicling the angst and frustration felt by lighter sex while trying to deal with all the world places upon them. These aren't solely female empowerment or feminist films but, deeper than that, most of them are a celebration of women, admiring courageousness they display when at their best. 

In no particular order...

Volver

Girl Interrupted

The Hours

Marie Antoinette

Marnie

The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio

Pride and Prejudice

Persona (duly noted. not sure how I forgot this one)

Short, I know, but sweet.

films of the decade: part 3

I'm still working on my list. It's coming along pretty well, though it's certainly daunting... Is There Will Be Blood really all that much better than Pan's Labyrinth? How seriously should I take polished Hollywood-fare like the gorgeous King Kong or Atonement? How about more manipulative and sentimental films like Crash or Hotel Rwanda?

I'll somehow figure out a way to justify their placement, hopefully.

Below are some more films that will definitely be (somewhere) on the list. These are perhaps more questionable choices, but I certainly stand behind them...


Little Miss Sunshine (2006)
Director: Jonathan Dayton, Valerie Faris
Writer: Michael Arndt
Producers: Peter Saraf, Marc Turtletaub, Ron Yerxa, David T. Friendly, Albert Berger
Starring: Greg Kinnear, Steve Carell, Toni Collette, Paul Dano, Abigail Breslin, Alan Arkin

Little Miss Sunshine is a gem of a little film. At first underrated then highly overrated (and immensely popular due in part to it's ubiquitous, all-yellow, "indie-film" marketing campaign) but now underrated again; not only is it heartwarming, touching, and philosophically well-rounded, it's also very, very funny. Don't hate.

My review from a few years back (edited) below...

I almost completely forgot about writing a review during and after catching a screening of the new transcendentally funny (look up "transcendentally" on dictionary.com and use the third definition) indie dramedy Little Miss Sunshine. I couldn't help but forget to think about the film critically and just take it in for what it was. As my friends and I stopped for some milkshakes (yes, milkshakes) following the film, instead of zoning them out and concentrating on my movie "experience" and what it meant (as I usually do), I found myself reminding myself to simply live and enjoy the time we were sharing right then and there. I almost forgot about the film entirely all the while applying one of its principle points, to enjoy the moment at hand, and I ended up having a blast. In retrospect, it was definitely a memorable experience. Little Miss Sunshine is a film that makes you forget about the frivolities of life and helps you focus on what truly matters. A film I saw recently, The Devil Wears Prada, carries a similar message; but while that film scratches the surface as a morality tale, with stereotypical characters and sophomoric symbolism, Little Miss Sunshine is truly a complex and thoroughly enveloping work.

It’s been said that it’s possible to make a great film about anything and everything. The premise doesn’t matter, it’s what you do with the basic material and how ambitious you want to be with it that ultimately determines whether a film is great or not. Little Miss Sunshine has what one might classify as a typically indie premise. A family embarks on a road trip to fulfill a little girl’s dream to compete in a beauty pageant. And yet there is so much to be picked apart, studied and analyzed, all while being completely engrossing and entertaining. And that's what Little Miss Sunshine achieves so precisely; first time feature film directors Valerie Faris and Jonathan Dayton know exactly how much of the intellectual to put in while still maintaining a thin and recognizable base that keeps your attention indefinitely.

While the laughs don’t come around quite as often as the trailers may let on, when they do come around the jokes are not only hilarious but memorable in their unmistakable charm and freshness. The entire cast is pitch-perfect. Steve Carell’s character is of the most subtle hilarity; with more quirks than any supporting player has a right to have. Abigail Breslin, who plays 7-year-old Olive, is enchanting on screen as the heart of the film and the last shred of innocence and hope left in a family that always seems on the brink of falling apart. Finally, the choice of casting Alan Arkin in the grandfather role is brilliant. With some of the funniest lines from any film this year, he delivers laughs every time he opens his mouth.

One of the keys to understanding the film is an unconventionally straight forward “meaning of life” conversation towards the end of the film between Paul Dano's and Carell's characters. We learn, along with Dano's character Dwayne, that the best part of life is the struggle to become who you want to be, once we're there we tend to become complacent and retrogressive, forgetting how we got there in the first place. Little Miss Sunshine teaches us to never forget, if only for an unforgettably compelling hour and forty minutes.


Marie Antoinette (2006)
Director: Sofia Coppola
Writer: Sofia Coppola
Producers: Sofia Coppola, Ross Katz
Starring: Kirsten Dunst, Marianne Faithfull, Steve Coogan, Judy Davis, Jason Schwartzman

Ever since it's release, I've touted Sofia Coppola's third film, Marie Antoinette, as a misunderstood modern masterpiece. Many viewed the film as her worst film to date, an indulgent mess that only an overconfident young filmmaker could produce (the fact that she's the Francis Coppola's daughter didn't help any either). If I'm not mistaken, it was even booed at Cannes. The unorthodox, modern American dialogue, MTV-styled cinematography, and sheer lack of respect for the original subject matter turned many critics, and even more moviegoers, off. That is, if the candy-bright colors, young and popular actors, and hip 80s-inspired soundtrack didn't steal their attention first. There's even a pair of Converse sneakers in one of the shots! However, all this was done in good fun and, what's more, in the name of good art.

Below is my (edited) review of the film from when it was released...

Nothing matters more than the present, something Sofia Coppola is well aware of, regardless of whether she's making a period piece set in the 18th century or a romantic drama set in the 21st. Via Marie Antoinette's short and tragic life, Sofia (she is “Sofia” as there is only one “Coppola”) has produced a humorous and cleverly conceived film, a sumptuous and visually stunning indictment on our society and its ever diminishing treatment of the “lesser sex." She presents Antoinette, not as the arrogant beast so many have come to learn and read about, but rather as a girl (and eventually a woman) caught in a world of ridiculous protocol and overbearing monotony. A girl that attains every material possession she’s been taught to desire and eventually, a woman who learns to live it up and enjoy her time as best as she can within her depressingly mundane circumstances. We all know how Marie Antoinette dies. We might know why. This film doesn’t care about any of that, not even caring enough to show her death. Sofia is much more interested in making a remarkably introspective film that’s as much about our times as it is about 18th century France (which isn’t completely due to it’s killer soundtrack).

Kirsten Dunst’s Antoinette is purposefully too modern in a role she was born to play. Essentially a girl of the 21st century stuck in the 18th century, Antoinette is torn between what she wants to do and what she is told she must do. To cement the Franco-Austrian alliance, she is sent off to Versailles at age 14 to be married to the Dauphin of France (Jason Schwartzman), the hilariously sexually uninterested next king of France (his hobby, an obvious and hilariously clever innuendo, is the study of locks and keys). Her purpose as his wife is to produce an heir, more importantly a male heir, and when this proves difficult she feels backed into a corner and helpless. Simultaneously she finds herself confounded by endless monotony and predictable routine, and amongst some of the most heartless and gossipy people in her or any other court. There is nothing left for her to do but use the power she has, once settled in, to live her life far away from the consuming cares of the court and enjoy it the best way she knows how: first through the avid possession of material things and eventually through physical pleasure.

The entire film is cunningly told from Antoinette's perspective alone, only telling us what she would know in her sheltered existence. The film is lost in her world and thus we only get bits and pieces of the “real world” outside of Versailles. We learn of French aid to the Americans fighting the Revolutionary War, and it’s suggested this is the actual culprit for France’s growing debt and not Antoinette’s horrific amount of spending. Sofia suggests Antoinette was merely the scapegoat, a role women have been playing since antiquity. Towards the end we are given a glimpse perhaps at her true feelings towards the people of her country and thus further sympathize with the unfortunate situation she’s been placed in.

Even in a historical period piece there is no time like the present. This would explain the film’s various connections to the present: it’s mostly post-punk and New-Wave filled soundtrack, the actor’s modern accents and dialogue, the seemingly random inclusion of a pair of Converse All-Stars amid more common shoes of the time in a particular scene. Many, if not most, will complain about this film’s superficiality, claiming it’s without purpose or true meaning. But when a society promotes and sells the shallow and superficial more than anything else what do you expect most women will end up becoming? Today there are more “Marie Antoinettes” than ever before. This film is not about one woman’s life as much as it is about the frivolous female masses our world has, and continues, to produce. The trick is to break away from the convention. This is where Sofia’s daring cinematic achievement and Marie Antoinette herself find redemption and practical meaning.

We feel sorry for Antoinette, as much as we feel sorry for those pageant girls at the finale of Little Miss Sunshine. But more than that, we like her, or at least I did, and encourage and understand her actions however superficially misguided they might be, eventually envying the small but rich slice of life she enjoyed before her death. What would you do if you were in her Chucks?


La science des rêves (The Science of Sleep) (2006)
Director: Michel Gondry Writer: Michel Gondry Producer: Georges Bermann
Starring: Gael Garcia Bernal, Charlotte Gainsbourg, Alain Chabat

Another severely underrated, wonderful, wonderfully odd film. It's unconventional in various ways including narrative style, visual style and cinematography, method of acting and others, and it's hard to classify. It's a film I appreciated immensely and yet it's not a completely enjoyable film, at least not in the traditional sense, that is, what one would expect from a romantic movie starring two attractive young people (ie. a classifiable and immediately satisfying ending, great emotional highs and lows, etc.). I appreciated its honest nature and realism and can fully relate to the film's main protagonist; someone who sees nothing but monotony and suffering in "real-life" and uses his dreams as a means of escape. Of course, not having a good handle on this dream world and a good defining line between dreams and reality could be disastrous, particularly with one's relationships.

The Science of Sleep is a cautionary tale and might be considered a tragedy by some (not me). We learn from it just how crucial this line is. That is, the line between ourselves and our relationships; between our thoughts, desires, and inner feelings and what we show and how we act around others. We can't show too much at a time but we can't hide ourselves completely either. Stephane, played brilliantly by Gael Garcia Bernal, is very immature in this regard (perhaps choosing immaturity over the vulnerability of age and eventual death). He is a boy trapped in a young man's body. He hates his life and buries himself in his dreams as a creative outlet.

In the film it is suggested that artists create so that they won't be forgotten (Freud also said this) and this implies an inner yearning to be accepted. The Science of Sleep negates this through Stephane. He creates (art, inventions, thoughts, etc.) to get away from reality, at times portraying death as a joke or something transient probably to forget if only for a short while the pain it has caused him.

As I said before, some viewers might consider this film a tragedy or perhaps full of romantically confusing situations and with an ending that leaves much to be desired. While I can understand how someone could come to this conclusion I in no way agree with it. I believe the film and its protagonist end in growth, understanding, and triumph.

The Science of Sleep is a young, thinking person's film (a rare breed) and thus won't find itself with a large fanbase any time soon. It requires much more attention than usual. If you can't follow the narrative strings from dream to reality and back again then you're just not paying attention. The way things pop into and out of Stephane's dreams is inventive, as are the dream sequences themselves thanks to the creative mastery of director Michel Gondry. If you feel empty or confused by the end of this film than, simply put, you need to see it again (rewind if you can). The dream sequences, while entertaining and possibly distracting, are vital to understanding the film and following its narrative threads. Putting in the time and energy into understanding Gondry's best film (yes, better then Eternal Sunshine) is well worth it.

Christo and Jeanne-Claude, the politics of their art: part 2

Christo and Jeanne-Claude, the Politics of their Art: How they are (shrewdly and discreetly) Socialist, Anti-American and Revolutionary - part 2

The Christos act as a corporation, and a large one at that. One with millions of dollars coming in and out of its bank accounts annually, conducting business in all of the major industrialized countries of the world. Characteristic of a business, they are concerned with their brand and the exclusiveness of what they do. They are relentless self-promoters constantly selling themselves, never missing an opportunity to correct misconceptions concerning their brand, aware and taking serious care of their public image. "They impress the public through the media with the kind of statistical data churned out by corporate America […] so that their prestige and power is validated and indirectly endorsed." Notice how carefully calculated this press release for The Umbrellas has been worded:

At sunrise, on October 9th, 1991, Christo and Jeanne-Claude's 1,880 workers began to open the 3,100 umbrellas in Ibaraki and California, in the presence of the artists.
This Japan-USA temporary work of art reflected the similarities and differences in the ways of life and the use of the land in two inland valleys, one 19 kilometers (12 miles) long in Japan, and the other 29 kilometers (18 miles) long in the USA.
In Japan, the valley is located north of Hitachiota and south of Satomi, 120 kilometers (75 miles) north of Tokyo, around Route 349 and the Sato River, in the Prefecture of Ibaraki, on the properties of 459 private landowners and governmental agencies.
In the U.S.A., the valley is located 96.5 kilometers (60 miles) north of Los Angeles, along Interstate 5 and the Tejon Pass, between south of Gorman and Grapevine, on the properties of Tejon Ranch, 25 private landowners as well as governmental agencies.
Eleven manufacturers in Japan, USA, Germany and Canada prepared the various elements of The Umbrellas: fabric, aluminum super-structures, steel frame bases, anchors, wooden base supports, bags and molded base covers. All 3,100 umbrellas were assembled in Bakersfield, California, from where the 1,340 blue umbrellas were shipped to Japan.
Starting in December 1990, with a total work force of 500, Muto Construction Co. Ltd. in Ibaraki, and A. L. Huber and Son in California installed the earth anchors and steel bases. The sitting platform / base covers were placed during August and September 1991.
From September 19 to October 7, 1991, an additional construction work force began transporting The Umbrellas to their assigned bases, bolted them to the receiving sleeves, and elevated the umbrellas to an upright closed position. On October 4, students, agricultural workers, and friends, (960 in USA and 920 in Japan,) joined the work force to complete the installation of The Umbrellas. Each umbrella was 6 meters (19 feet 8 inches) high and 8.66 meters (26 feet 5 inches) in diameter.
The artists entirely financed their 26 million dollar temporary work of art through The Umbrellas, Joint Project for Japan and U.S.A. Corporation (Jeanne-Claude Christo-Javacheff, president). Previous projects by the artists have all been financed in a similar manner through the sale of the studies, preparatory drawings, collages, scale models, early works, and original lithographs. The artists do not accept any sponsorship.
The removal started on October 27 and the land was restored to its original condition. The Umbrellas were taken apart and all elements were recycled.
The Umbrellas, free standing dynamic modules, reflected the availability of the land in each valley, creating an invitational inner space, as houses without walls, or temporary settlements and related to the ephemeral character of the work of art. In the precious and limited space of Japan, The Umbrellas were positioned intimately, close together and sometimes following the geometry of the rice fields. In the luxuriant vegetation enriched by water year round, The Umbrellas were blue.
In the California vastness of uncultivated grazing land, the configuration of the umbrellas was whimsical and spreading in every direction. The brown hills are covered by blond grass, and in that dry landscape, The Umbrellas were yellow.
From October 9th, 1991 for a period of eighteen days, The Umbrellas were seen, approached, and enjoyed by the public, either by car from a distance and closer as they bordered the roads, or by walking under The Umbrellas in their luminous shadows.

They use new world media to its full potential and their full advantage, embracing more traditional forms of self propaganda such as television and print, as well as more contemporary forms like film and the internet. They willingly give interviews regularly (with plenty of notice months in advance, of course) and have been the subject of 10 documentary films, each on a particular project of theirs. They regularly invite and pay for directors to make the documentaries though they never profit from them, documentation a key means of preserving and proliferating the concepts and significance of their work. Visit their website and you will find a cleverly arranged overabundance of information. The site openly supports discussion of their works, all that is missing is a message board. Extremely positive in tone, it looks and feels like a commercial website and would be more than helpful for anyone who is simply curious or someone more seriously studying the Christos and their work. The Q-A section includes common errors concerning the Christos and their art, protecting their corporate image without fail. Their projects are never overtly political. Not since 1962 when they executed their last blatantly political major work Wall of Oil Barrels, Iron Curtain (1962, Rue Visconti, Paris, France), with the sole notable exception of The Wall - 13,000 Oil Barrels, (1999, Gasometer, Oberhausen, Germany), have their projects spurred any sort of immediate political response. Conceived in Paris, Wall of Oil Barrels, Iron Curtain postdated the erection of the Berlin Wall by a year in a time during the Algerian war when there were numerous demonstrations taking place on the streets of Paris. Their work has since been much more subtle and layered particularly to those unfamiliar with the art world, far more aesthetically oriented than politically or socially, but only at first. "Ask anything,” Jeanne-Claude said before a recent interview for National Geographic, “but we do not talk of religion, politics, or other artists.” They are very aware of their public image indeed.

The Christos play the part of corporate CEOs very well, as consumed and work-obsessed as any of New York’s wealthiest executives, the glaring difference being that their company makes and runs successfully on zero profit (and even more successfully when in the red). Their product can never be sold or owned. And “unlike some promoters and marketing executives, the Christos indeed fabricate and build the monuments that they promise.” They are simultaneously the essence and antithesis of big business. Early in their careers, recently transplanted to America, they exhibited in Gallery Castelli in New York, but by 1968 they had left the gallery in order to retain their personal and artistic autonomy. They have never looked back since.

To be continued. For references, leave me a comment.

Christo and Jeanne-Claude, the politics of their art: part 1

Learning of the sudden death of one half of the artist team Christo and Jeanne-Claude this past week I was deeply saddened of course but I also found myself reminiscing, remembering my time in college as an Art History student and my obsession with their art and its sheer ambition. I had always been fascinated with their art. Its process with its lack of egoism or capitalism dumbfounded me at first. But it wasn't until I got to writing my final paper for Senior Seminar that I found how truly remarkable and significant the art of this seminal artist duo really was.

In memory of Jeane-Claude and the 51 years she spent creating temporary works of art hand-in-hand with her husband Christo, I will be posting my final paper in portions. It was all but exactly two years ago that I handed it in. It's the best thing I've ever done (written or not) and probably will ever do. I'm still very proud of it...


Christo and Jeanne-Claude, the Politics of their Art: How they are (shrewdly and discreetly) Socialist, Anti-American and Revolutionary - part 1

Born on the exact same day, June 13, 1935, Christo Vladimirov Javacheff and Jeanne-Claude Denat de Guillebon could not have come from two more completely different families. Christo, from a poor industrialist Bulgarian family, lived and studied in Bulgaria until 21 when he left to Czechoslovakia, then Vienna, and finally France, fleeing from the oppression and lack of artistic freedom in Cold War Eastern Europe. Jeanne-Claude, in turn, from a well-heeled French military family, was educated in France and Switzerland. Penniless in Paris, Christo painted portraits for a living while creating his inimitable art objects in his apartment during his free time. Each at opposing sides of French class society, Christo met Jeanne-Claude when he was commissioned to paint her mother’s portrait. Their contradicting class levels and social backgrounds were the main source of problems between Jeanne-Claude’s parents and Christo. These same divergent backgrounds would eventually contribute to their distinctive work dynamic which is essential when considering the implications and execution of their work.

Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s art is endlessly classifiable and impossible to define. It has been labeled many things including environmental, site-specific, and land art. Christo and Jeanne-Claude (the Christos for short) have been “conceptual, pop, minimalist, well before time, and [have] invented an art form that as yet has neither name nor imitator." Because of the ambition and size of their work, and because their projects have no precedent, they are required to deal with a great deal of legal and bureaucratic maneuverings in order to realize each new and distinct project. The politics and planning, which are planned and executed primarily by Jeanne-Claude, are as much a part of the artwork as the final presentation; their art is as much, if not more, a form of process art than site-specific or environmental. The often lengthy but always strenuous process takes as much dedication and passion as Pollock’s drips, as much premeditated arrangement and deliberation as Arp’s torn paper collages. Financially they spend unforgivably for each work. “Everything we’ve got plus everything we can borrow” Jeanne-Claude has been quoted as saying often. And emphasizing the process, the Christos acknowledge the entire span of time between a project’s initial conception and its final execution as the documented date of a work. The entire process of The Umbrellas (1984-91, California, USA and Ibaraki, Japan), for example, from beginning to end dates 1984-91. The artists are always eager to make a point of the importance of their time spent in between unveilings. When asked recently if the concept was the most difficult part of each project, Jeanne-Claude answered “no, the concept is easy. Any idiot can have a good idea. What is hard is to do it.” The Christos have enough passion and enthusiasm to follow a project as much as 32 years (Wrapped Trees, 1997-98, Riehen, Switzerland) through to completion.

Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s art exists in the moment literally and figuratively. Of course we are aware of the fleeting nature of their work. Running Fence (1972-76, Sonoma and Marin Counties, California) is forever suspended in our minds together with whatever was playing on the radio or the fashions at the time. But each project is also very much in, and a part of, the world around it beyond what one sees. The Christos readily use new-age materials for their projects including plastics, nylons, steel cables and poles, as well as new-age production processes, producing their materials employing the newest methods of our industrial and post-industrial society. They are the only artists of note who outsource their production and incorporate world economic globalization into their art. For example “eleven manufacturers in Japan, USA, Germany and Canada prepared the various elements of The Umbrellas: fabric, aluminum super-structures, steel frame bases, anchors, wooden base supports, bags and molded base covers.” And much like a modern corporation they employ thousands of workers for construction and installation. The Umbrellas alone utilized a construction work force of 500 and 1,880 installation workers (not volunteers) all paid standard wages. As landmark Postmodernists their work and their relationship ties the old with the new. The process and method of their work is a melding of “capitalism, democracy, enquiry, experiment, collaboration and co-operation.” Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s marriage and artistic collaboration are a blending of previous artistic traditions with modern capitalism and industrialization. Each puts to use his/her strongest social and/or artistic assets. Christo is producer. Jeanne-Claude is promoter. He is the artist genius to her relentlessly (reciprocally) self-interested manager. Christo is the quintessential enigmatic polymath, a modern example of what has been typified in art history texts since Leonardo. Jeanne-Claude, alternatively, takes the role of up-to-the-minute business organizer and administrator, always attune to the mechanizations of modern corporate society in order to promote and advance their art. She is always attentive of the art market, buying and selling Christo’s early portable works as well as his studies, preparatory drawings, collages, scale models, and original lithographs of their new projects providing capital for their next pending venture.

To be continued. For references, leave me a comment.

films of the decade: part 2

While on many decade-end-lists and seemingly growing in popularity and acclaim, enough cannot be said about Florian Henckel-Donnersmarck's stunning The Lives of Others. Very few films have screenplays that flow as fluidly as this. It features the inimitable Ulrich Mühe in one of his last performances.

Below is my review from a few years ago...

Das Leben der Anderen (The Lives of Others) (2006)
Director: Ryan Fleck
Writers: Anna Boden, Ryan Fleck
Producers: Alex Orlovsky, Jamie Patricof, Lynette Howell, Rosanne Korenberg, Anna Boden
Starring: Ryan Gosling, Shareeka Epps, Anthony Mackie, Monique Curnen, Karen Chilton, Tina Holmes, Collins Pennie

Regardless of the fact that it received the Oscar for Best Foreign Film instead of the slightly more deserving Pan's Labyrinth, The Lives of Others is nearly as good and certainly deserving of the wide attention it will now receive (it’s definitely a much better film than last year's winner, the slightly above average Tsotsi). Florian Henckel-Donnersmarck's first feature film, The Lives of Others delves into many captivating topics and genres ranging from thrilling government espionage and an ever evolving personal ethics and morals tale, to an exploration of the idea of the prostitution of art under a controlling government and the effect this has on the artist as well as the transformative ability of the arts in general and it’s role as the spark of change in an ever changing political world. How far will a writer, an actor, or a director go for his work? The film also delves into the greater picture: how far will someone, anyone go to do what is inherently right?

While slightly manipulative and sentimental in the vein of Spielberg's Schindler's List or his more recent Munich (a film that is tonally very similar), it's hard to fault such a poignant, enrapturing film. Taking place in East Germany during the years before 1989, The Lives of Others is about one man, a state surveillance expert, who slowly discovers he's on the wrong side politically and morally. This loyal employee of the state, Hauptmann G. Wiesler(Ulrich Mühe), is put in charge of surveillance of playwright Georg Dreyman and his longtime girlfriend Christa-Maria Sieland as well as Dreyman’s apartment where many of the events of the film take place after the Minister of Culture of East Germany becomes interested romantically in Christa. Wiesler finds the life of the couple fascinating and, through the transformative power of the arts amongst other things, his cold and hardened heart is slowly warmed. A particular scene of sudden emotional power and clarity hits the viewer when Wiesler hears a specific piece of music played by Dreyman on his piano. It’s unadulterated moments like this that are too few and far between in cinema today.

The film pays homage to Coppola's 1974 surveillance filled The Conversation, at times even referring directly to the director’s little known masterpiece via its camera angles. The two films share many similarities including a lead character surveillance expert who goes through events causing a moral metamorphosis of sorts; Ulrich Mühe giving Gene Hackman a run for his money, generating one of the best performances I've seen all year. His Wiesler is right up there with such nuanced characters from this year as Gosling’s Dan Dunne (Half Nelson) and DiCaprio’s Danny Archer (Blood Diamond).

The film's main character, while given a name is otherwise known and remembered as HGW XX/7. What he does for others, selflessly and without remorse is what defines him. His name is not important and will most likely be forgotten rather quickly after he's gone. Through the course of the film he becomes what in Yiddish would be called a "mensch," someone so selfless and giving that they are rarely seen or heard of, never wanting any recognition of any kind. The transformation is one of subtle brilliance sneaking up on you to the point where it might seem false or contrived but in retrospect make perfect sense, eliciting such a wide range of emotions from the audience. This is of course no doubt due to the airtight screenplay, never wasting a second of celluloid or a single line of dialogue, as well as Ulrich Mühe's astonishing and subtle performance.

The film's final frames are such severely heartbreaking scenes of pure and bittersweet joy; its final freeze frame shot reminded me of Truffaut’s ending shot from his respective debut film, the classic The 400 Blows. The two films, in their final closing seconds, share a very similar moment filled with both triumph and tragedy; in The Lives of Others, providing a deeply affecting moment I won’t soon forget.

films of the decade: part 1

The Times recently came out with their list of not the most important or highest grossing, but of the The 100 Best Films of the Decade. Quite the daunting task, I don't envy them for having the guts to put together such an ambitious list, and so soon! (probably too soon) After studying the list and chatting about it with a couple of my friends and work-mates I came to the conclusion that not only was their list flawed but purposefully so. How else could one explain the inclusion of Team America: World Police or Casino Royale, especially so high on the list (#5 and #8, respectively)? These lists are almost always created by newspapers, magazines, and online publications in order to get readers riled up. To get internet bloggers (myself included) to write about and discuss and otherwise bash their list all the while netting them millions of visitors and thus raising their online ad revenues (I don't have any hard facts to support this claim, but it's not all that far fetched, is it?).

Anywho, as I'm sure is the case with many others, I thought, "why don't I go ahead and create my own list of the best films of the decade?" And so, what I've decided to do is, in the days leading up to my this list (which is still being processed) I'll post old reviews I've written of my favorite films of this decade past. I'm sure this will all be quite anti-climatic, but here goes...

I'll begin with one of my favorite films of 2006 and (as I say at the end of the review) the best American film of that year...

Half Nelson (2006)
Director: Ryan Fleck
Writers: Anna Boden, Ryan Fleck
Producers: Alex Orlovsky, Jamie Patricof, Lynette Howell, Rosanne Korenberg, Anna Boden
Starring: Ryan Gosling, Shareeka Epps, Anthony Mackie, Monique Curnen, Karen Chilton, Tina Holmes, Collins Pennie

In Ryan Fleck's audacious and gritty debut film, Half Nelson, Ryan Gosling (The Notebook) plays Dan, a young and rebellious school teacher working in the inner city trying his best to influence, and at times inspire, his students as best he can. Simultaneously he’s slipping deeper and deeper into drug addiction that's only an outward reflection of his greater disillusionment and frustration with his life and the world. One evening after a school basketball game, one of his students, Drey, played by talented new-comer Shareeka Epps, catches her coach/teacher (Gosling) getting high in a stall in the women's locker room. The relationship the two of them eventually form is a powerful one, carrying the rest of the film through to its stunning conclusion.

As I mentioned previously, Half Nelson is a film about disillusionment. Gosling’s character is disillusioned with his life and where it’s headed, but even more so, he’s disillusioned with the world around him and thus feels inadequate and useless, which compels him to fall further into a major drug addiction. As Gosling’s character tells the children in his junior high history class, the culprit is the "machine" that "keeps all of us down". The problem is, we’re all part of this machine (i.e. the white man, the government, prisons, etc.); but, as the ingeniously interspersed readings of civil rights history remind us, and as he informs and reminds his kids, we all have a choice. In essence, this choice comes down to how much we allow the machine to affect us; how much of ourselves will we allow it to take, and how much will we give to help change it? Anyone whose real, who isn't lying to themselves or living in a fantasy world, can't help but appreciate this film and identify with the two lead characters, Dan and Drey. They are characters that require thought and time to fully understand. These are REAL people, real people in real situations.

From its romanticized and perfectly cast leads, to its gritty, nothing but the bare essentials cinematography, Half Nelson is a near perfect film; the kind of film for anyone who is afraid to go to the movies, deterred by the very genre this film enlivens: the inspirational drama. First time feature film director and co-writer Ryan Fleck steers way clear of the sentimentality that so easily could’ve inundated the pitch-perfect, so unpretentious it could've been a documentary screenplay.

Gosling and Epps give performances of rare and subtle brilliance which undoubtedly contribute to the film’s powerful, stirring statement and inspirational closing act. Their characters are both real and restrained. Epps is more than believable as a confused, but strong and confident girl struggling with adolescence and the depravity of the world around her. In Gosling's case, this is certainly an Oscar worthy performance. A true case of less is more... a LOT more.

Adding another layer of gravity is the film's perfectly timed and powerful soundtrack. Broken Social Scene provides several exclusive and/or extended tracks that add that extra bit of "oomf" precisely when the film needs it; especially during the film's climax, a scene without a word of dialogue which is one of the most brilliant, powerful, and telling scenes of recent memory.

If you can find Half Nelson playing near you, I highly encourage you to get out and see it soon. You won't easily find better performances, a more streamlined screenplay, or more refreshing directing. This is the best American film of 2006.

obscure movie pick: Bright Star

Never have I seen a film capture the sheer, raw delight and immense mood swings of young love. Amazingly, it is neither an epic romance nor a contemporary love story. Director Jane Campion's latest little bio-pic, Bright Star, is about British poet John Keats's final days as he fell in love and was consequently inspired by the flirty, enchanting wannabe-fashionista (for her time) Fanny Brawne.

I mentioned to a friend that this would make a great opening film as part of a double feature along with Terrance Malick's incredible The New World. With its languid pace, and attention to cinematography and detail, Bright Star would accompany Malick's four-year-old film wonderfully including thematically.

The film is heartbreaking on many resonant levels besides the obvious, yet incredibly poignant and genuine, finale. As the credits roll one of Keats's poems, Ode to a Nightingale, is read, ending right on cue with the film's score... stunning.