Monday, December 27, 2010

Black Swan


File:Black Swan at Martin Mere.JPGI'm am not an expert on Tchaikovsky's "Swan Lake," the ballet at the center of the Darren Aronofsky-directed thriller "Black Swan," (though I enjoy listening to it for relaxation). But I do know a thing or two about unpredictability after reading Nassim Nicholas Talem's "The Black Swan," a philosophy book about improbability and how to deal with it. The title comes from a Latin expression--more or less that a good man is as rare as a black swan (black swans were thought to have been non-existent). With the discovery of black swans in the seventeenth century, a millennium of thinking had instantly been erased. Moments of unpredictability--the outbreak of World War I, 9/11--present a "black swan problem."

There are characters here in Aronofsky's movie that participate in this game so that their desired outcome is achieved. However, its central player, performed by Natalie Portman, is one who is feeble and unable to do as the other characters do. But it's much more complicated than that--it appears she is going crazy.

Portman plays Nina, a young ballerina with a passion for perfection (a common theme in Aronofsky's films). She is determined to the point where some things do not seem quite right. Her director Thomas (Vincent Cassel) is demanding her to push harder to let herself go for the Black Swan part, to release her sexuality. Her mother (Barbara Hearshey) is overprotective, decorating her daughter's room with a painful amount of pink stuffed animals, and probably jealous of her daughter's success. What augments Nina's madness is that she now has a competitor named Lily (Mina Kunis). Lily has the easy ability to seduce which Nina lacks; it becomes evident to Nina that Lily is after her part, and the director is taking notice of the latter.

The movie will likely remind audience members of Roman Polanski's "Rosemary's Baby," particularly aspects such as sexuality, a strong female lead, creepiness, and the frightening presence of a scary man-bird. One disappointing aspect, however, is sometimes the dialogue is a bit (perhaps intentionally) silly. Thomas takes Nina back to his apartment one evening presumably to seduce her. He asks her questions: "Do you enjoy making love?" and she is noticeably embarrassed. "Sex," he says. "Do you like it?" She nervously giggles--the stuff of bad porn movies.

But this is one of the most stylish and gorgeous horror films in a while. There are moments that Aronofsky does not allow his camera to focus on, like spots of blood or muscles rotating or Nina being alone in the dark, but are still details that are impossible to ignore. (Personally, clipping nails and people standing straight up on their toes is difficult to watch, so this had better be sufficient preparation for "127 Hours.") In the first few moments, Aronofsky grabs your attention and refuses to relinquish it. He does this with the help of the music of "Swan Lake" as well as the original score by Clint Mansell, the cinematography of Matthew Libatique, and of course his performers. Natalie Portman gives the very best performance of her career so far, and as of this writing highly deserves the Academy Award. In "Black Swan" there is an expected amount of symbolism, a heavy amount of duality,  and just the right amount of ambiguity. There are oft-used moments of people hiding in the dark and something arbitrarily jumping out to make us scared, but Aronofsky does not use these so they feel hackneyed. Instead, one gets the sense that this is an entirely original film.

I have never seen a bad film by Aronofsky, and I hope I never will. If one will exist, then the world is indeed unpredictable.

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Letterbox

Let me first say that it has been exactly one year since my blog started. To be honest, I began writing most of the reviews that are dated on December 25, 2009 between October and late December, and after viewing Terry Gilliam's "The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus" on Christmas, there was a mad rush to figure out a quick, efficient and inexpensive way to share my ideas on the internet, which brought me to blogger.com. Thus, there are more than several articles all dated December 25, 2009. Happy Anniversary.

Anyway, TCM often shows a short documentary about the letterbox format, a format many people complain about. I have truly never understood the complaints against this format, especially because those who complain never offer much reason behind their opinions. TCM's documentary features interviews with directors Michael Mann, Martin Scorsese, Sydney Polluck, and Curtis Hanson.


To paraphrase the directors, basically every film of the past fifty-plus years has been filmed in a widescreen format, and so when these films are shown on television, they require the letterbox format so that the viewer is viewing the entire frame, exactly as the director wished it to be shown. If the letterbox is not there, then what happens is a process known as pan-and-scan, which dissects the picture so that the central image is expanded to a format that will fit a television screen, thus rendering it pixilated and a bit claustrophobic. Not only are you losing the visuals that help convey the movie, but as Scorsese says, you are in a sense re-directing the movie.

So as the directors say, if you see the letterbox format, do not be angry or frightened, but instead be grateful and content.

Merry Christmas

Thursday, December 16, 2010

The Strangest Movies of the 1970s


El Topo
Alejandro Jodorowsky's Western features a man in black accompanied by a naked child throughout the desert against little people and maimed people and naked women with a background of religious symbolism and drug-induced cinematography. This film, recently released on DVD and once a feature of midnight cinemas, is a better film than his follow-up, the even more psychadelic "Holy Mountain," and has its share of famous fans, from John Lennon to David Lynch. The element of absurdism is admirable and it's not an intolerable film; it's certainly an interesting step further to the left of Serigo Leone's Westerns, and it sure would make John Wayne furious. Still, this is one odd movie.


Arabian Nights
Famed Italian Pier Paolo Pasolini spent over two years in various different countries filming this silly wonder. The third part of his "life trilogy," (the other parts are a more watchable "The Decameron" and "The Cantebury Tales"), there is a nude character--full frontal, guys and gals--about every five minutes or so, and they're usually giggling, rarely acting, and often poorly-dubbed (even in its original Italian). Still, Pasolini somehow managed to get these naked actors to feel comfortable, and it properly prepared him for his next film and his actual masterpiece "Salo: 120 Days of Sodom." Beyond that, "Arabian Nights" is a chaotic, seemingly hastily-made movie that jumps from scene-to-scene with little thought. For further reading/viewing, read here, here and here, and view here (not work appropriate).


Black Samurai
Kierkegaard's "Fear and Tremblin" tells us that absurdism does not necessarily mean what is logically impossible but what is humanly impossible. "Black Samurai" is both. From 1977 (the year of "Star Wars" and "Annie Hall") this was blaxoitation gone far, far wrong. Jim Kelly from "Enter the Dragon" is a badass agent out to get a whiteass bad guy (who simultaenously plays with snakes and worships pagean gods). And Kelly has a pretty cool rocket pack.


There are others, like "Monty Python and the Holy Grail," Martin Scorsese's "The King of Comedy" and "Harold and Maude" which are all absurd in a good way. They are also more widely known and therefore not as relevant for a discussion here. I can't necessarily say if these first three films are recommendable or not. Pasolini was a gifted man and his "Salo" is a haunting film worth the watch for brave viewers; "Arabian Nights" was not. Jodorowosky is an acquired taste and not for everyone. "Black Samurai" might rank as an it's-so-bad-it's-good film. Regardless, they are three of the oddest movies I have ever seen.