16 September 2008

MAN ON WIRE



In 1974, Philippe Petit, an impish, excitable young Frenchman did an impossible thing—he managed to string a tightrope across the roofs of the World Trade Center twin towers and walk on it (although "dancing" seems a more fitting description). James Marsh's (THE KING, WISCONSIN DEATH TRIP) documentary explains how he did this.

Structured like a heist film, MAN ON WIRE recounts in-depth the planning and preparation that went into pulling off such a stunt. It's both an edge-of-your-seat thriller and an oral history of sorts, consisting of modern day interviews with the ever sinewy Petit and his accomplices—most of whom are nearly as entertaining as Petit, from his still-in-awe ex-girlfriend Annie to two perpetually stoned Americans (bluntly described by the others as "losers") who were corralled in to string the rope.

Marsh supplements these interviews with archival footage and reenactments. The latter might be the least cheesy ever: impressionistic and mostly in silhouette or shadow, they're delicately folded into the story and rarely register as jarring or distracting. Still, the archival footage is astonishing, from Petit's prior tightrope walking feats across the Sydney Harbor bridge and the Norte Dame cathedral to his prep work in the French countryside—his irreverent spirit there is summed up by a puckish handmade road sign pointing the way to the "World Trade Center Association" with a crude stick figure drawing at its side of Petit walking across the towers.

It all builds to the event itself, which unfolds in a series of still shots of Petit on the rope, 100 stories up from the ground, accompanied by Erik Satie's gorgeous piano piece "Gymnopédie No.1" (as effective here in its starkness and simplicity as it was in FLIGHT OF THE RED BALLOON). What's so appealing about the film is that it examines an artist who puts on a show, rather than one merely showing off. Petit's walk comes off not only as a challenge to realize or an act of rebellion, but as work of art, something full of grace and beauty.

Neither Marsh nor his subjects make a single direct reference to 9/11, and they don't need to. Just the sight of the towers themselves resonates differently than it once did. The towers' presence on screen haunts and their absence adds weight to Petit's accomplishment. Reminiscing on Petit's walk and its aftermath, one accomplice starts to say, "This was the end of something" before he breaks down in tears, and we immediately understand the dual meaning behind his words. MAN ON WIRE derives much of its power from being equal parts celebration and requiem.

14 September 2008

Over at Mewsings (in my first post in forever): ten fall indies I'm looking forward to seeing. To this shortlist, I would also add SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE (new Danny Boyle film that won the audience award at Toronto and opens two days after MILK), CHOKE (Chuck Palahniuk adaptation with Sam Rockwell and Anjelica Huston), RELIGULOUS (Bill Maher's stab at a Michael Moore-type screed about, duh. religion), DOUBT (prestigious play adaptation with Meryl Streep and Philip Seymour Hoffman) and THE BROTHERS BLOOM (whimsical follow-up from the director of BRICK). And I just may venture out to NICK AND NORAH'S INFINITE PLAYLIST, since its director previously did this gem.

05 September 2008

FINISH THE SENTENCE

Found this meme here; tagging these guys.

1. My uncle once: worked for Harley Davidson.

2. Never in my life: have I attended an NFL game.

3. When I was five: my maternal grandfather died.

4. High school was: painful for the first two years and much more enjoyable the other two.

5. I will never forget: the time my father made me laugh so hard at an Italian restaurant that Sprite came out of my nose (it *burns*, by the way).

6. Once I met: the prince of Cameroon (or so he claimed).

7. There’s this girl I know: who currently lives in Hawaii and whose last name is Sinatra.

8. Once, at a bar: in Winona., Minnesota, I was 21 and likely the only person of age (and w/out a fake I.D.) present.

9. By noon, I’m usually: nursing the few remaining sips of my iced coffee.

10. Last night: I ate Crispy Orange Chicken and saw FROZEN RIVER.

11. If only I had: more time (and motivation) to write.

12. Next time I go to church: violent thunder will probably light up the sky.

13. What worries me most: President Sarah Palin.

14. When I turn my head left I see: a disheveled pile of receipts on my desk.

15. When I turn my head right I see: a picture of my cute boyfriend.

16. You know I’m lying when: it sounds far too good to be true.

17. What I miss most about the Eighties is: top 40 radio of the era.

18. If I were a character in Shakespeare I’d be: possibly Rosencrantz and/or Guildenstern.

19. By this time next year: I hope to have a better sense of what my profession is.

20. A better name for me would be: dork or any variation thereof.

21. I have a hard time understanding: why anyone would vote for McCain.

22. If I ever go back to school, I’ll: do it if I don’t have to pay any more tuition.

23. You know I like you if: I talk your ear off.

24. If I ever won an award, the first person I would thank would be: my mom.

25. Take my advice, never: see the movie CRASH.

26. My ideal breakfast is: light, fluffy pancakes, crisp savory bacon and coffee, coffee, coffee.

27. A song I love but do not have is: "Got to Give It Up" by Marvin Gaye.

28. If you visit my hometown, I suggest you: see the Milwaukee Art Museum.

29. Why won’t people: who drive respect cyclists and share the road.

30. If you spend a night at my house: I would keep you up drinking and watching DVDs far too late.

31. I’d stop my wedding for: nothing.

32. The world could do without: "Brangelia" (and any variation thereof).

33. I’d rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: um... sorry, I can't think of anything more disgusting than that!

34. My favourite blonde(s) is/are: Sarah Cracknell (female), James Dean (male).

35. Paper clips are more useful than: binder clips.

36. If I do anything well it’s: make a delicious sweet potato bake.

37. I can’t help but: have (or at least think of having) a nice, cold cocktail after a loooonnggg (or in this case not so long) work week.

38. I usually cry: at the end of A CHARLIE BROWN CHRISTMAS (yes, I admit it!).

39. My advice to my child/nephew/niece: don’t let any adults talk you into a hobby or social activity that you have absolutely no interest in.

40. And by the way: go see MAN ON WIRE if you can.

28 August 2008

KRIOFSKE MIX: THE TRIP (PART TWO)

March 2005: CD-R

01. Bebel Gilberto, "Simplesmente"
02. Sam Phillips, "Five Colors"
03. The Free Design, "I Found Love"
04. Rufus Wainwright, "Gay Messiah"
05. Tamas Wells, "Even in the Crowds"
06. The Shins, "Saint Simon"
07. Sufjan Stevens, "Sister"
08. Black Box Recorder, "The New Diana"
09. The Weakerthans, "One Great City!"
10. The Poppy Family, "Free From The City"
11. Steve Wynn, "Morningside Heights"
12. Fiona Apple, "Extraordinary Machine"
13. Ella Fitzgerald, "Black Coffee"
14. Saint Etienne, "Former Lover"
15. Junior Boys, "Teach Me How to Fight"
16. Tompaulin, "Slender"
17. Paul Brill, "Indian Summer"
18. Arab Strap, "Devil Tips"
19. Brian Eno, "Everything Merges With the Night"
20. Ivy, "Back In Our Town"

I already commented on Part One of this double disc mix; I did not intend for two whole years to fly by before writing an entry on Part Two, but so it goes. This disc is the comparatively chilled, come-down cousin to the other disc's frenzied, let's-get-out-of-the-house-and-party soundtrack. I wouldn't go so far to describe myself as a homebody or a wallflower, but I think in personality terms, I'm more Part Two than Part One, although I was aiming for some kind of balance between the two halves.

Listening to it now, Part Two feels a lot like a warm-up to a mix I made the following year, which has the same reasoning behind the song selection, but expands on the continuous flow and unwavering mood. However, like Part One, Part Two opens with a powerful one-two punch: light as air but resounding through its gossamer layers and simple piano chords, Bebel Gilberto's song gives the mix a stark, attention-grabbing first few moments before it effortlessly segues into Sam Phillip's even simpler acoustic strum and impassioned vocal.

From there, it jumps around a veritable cornucopia of themes and genres. The Free Design's vintage sunshine pop sits next to Rufus Wainwright's clever, blasphemous come-on; The Weakerthans snidely love/hate their hometown while fellow Canadians The Poppy Family long for release from an undisclosed locale; Ella Fitzgerald sings the blues but not before Fiona Apple reinvents them as an eloquently warped production number from an alternate universe evil Disney cartoon; Steve Wynn and Paul Brill both sit back and take it all in stride, while Junior Boys use the opposite approach, grafting an impassioned, 1980s-ready dramatic ballad over a busy, intense but pensive rhythm.

I won't argue that everything here sounds like it belongs--after all, what ended up here was basically anything too peppy for Part One. Still, I think it concludes as well as it begins. The Arab Strap song was taken off a compilation I had to review, and it sounds like little else I've heard: a Scotsman slurring over a delicate guitar arpeggios and two exceptionally sinister violins. The Brian Eno song is the second-last one off of ANOTHER GREEN WORLD, and the Ivy song is the closer on their best album, so sue me for putting them in the same sequence on my mix--it works.

13 August 2008

DOG DAYS AT THE INDIEPLEX?

A confession: I haven't seen a movie in a theater for two-and-a-half weeks.

(Pause for collective gasp from the blogosphere)

For most people, that revelation would not seem abnormal, but when it comes to movies, I'm not exactly normal. I usually catch something on the big screen at least once a week if not twice. And I work at a theatre, for christ sakes. So why has my movie-going dropped off so dramatically?

It's not as if I don't want to go to the movies- there's always something to see. In fact, my "films to see" spreadsheet currently has at least four or five titles on it. However, I can think of a good excuse for not making the effort to see each one: THE DARK KNIGHT and MAMMA MIA! require a trip to the multiplex, which, like a good film snob I tend to avoid as much as possible (although the latter is playing at the Kendall Square, go figure); BEFORE I FORGET is at the MFA, so the showtimes are few and far between; TELL NO ONE is playing where I work, but lately the last thing I want to do is stay there an extra three hours at the end of the day.

Actually, the real problem may be that I'm not dying to see any of these films, much less other titles I have some interest in (THE LAST MISTRESS, PINEAPPLE EXPRESS). Late summer tends to be a fallow period for moviegoing in general, but this year seems especially slim. Fortunately, there's great stuff (that I've already seen, natch) currently playing at both the multiplex (WALL-E, which begs for a big screen) and art house (MAN ON WIRE, not only the best documentary of the year thus far, but one that could've easily made this list). A few promising things are also on the horizon, like Woody Allen's VICKY CRISTINA BARCELONA (which opens at the Coolidge this Friday), Isabel Coixet's ELEGY (which, like the Allen film, also stars Penelope Cruz), and Sundance winner FROZEN RIVER.

I doubt I'll ever get sick of or - god forbid - stop going to the movies. If this downtime has one advantage, it's that I have more time to make a few extra dents in my Netflix queue. I've spent the last few weekends getting caught up on the slightly overhyped but quite enthralling TV series MAD MEN, and am about to watch the final season of THE WIRE. Also saw Wong Kar Wai's much maligned MY BLUEBERRY NIGHTS, which was okay despite a shallow screenplay and Norah Jones' flat performance. Much better was Martin Scorsese's AFTER HOURS, a surreal, economical caper of the sort I wish he'd return to... plus, it has a inimitable, delightfully deranged, ice cream truck-driving Catherine O'Hara in it.

24 July 2008

PROVIDENCE RESIDENCES

Two weeks ago, Steve and I spent a lovely Saturday evening strolling around downtown Providence and nearby Brown University. I took pictures of a few recognizable spots, but I think these are a little more fun.











22 July 2008

TALK TO HER


My new essay on Pedro Almodovar's coma-melodrama is up on the Brattle's Film Notes blog. I have to admit that this wasn't the easiest one to write about. It unfolds so beautifully, unexpectedly and subtly that you almost don't want to spoil the effect it has by over-analyzing it. Anyway, it kicks off the Brattle's six-week Thursday night retrospective of the director's work, playing as part of a double feature with what is increasingly my favorite Almodovar film.

12 July 2008

FAVORITE MOVIES OF EVERY YEAR SINCE BIRTH

I guess this was inevitable. And you know I can't pass up another opportunity to generate a geeky list. My pick for one absolute favorite from every year, followed by its director:


1975 - Nashville, Robert Altman
1976 - Chinese Roulette, Rainer Werner Fassbinder
1977 - Annie Hall, Woody Allen
1978 - Days of Heaven, Terrence Malick
1979 - All That Jazz, Bob Fosse
1980 - 9 to 5, Colin Higgins
1981 - Reds, Warren Beatty
1982 - Tootsie, Sydney Pollack
1983 - A Christmas Story, Bob Clark
1984 - This is Spinal Tap, Rob Reiner
1985 - My Life as a Dog, Lasse Hallstrom
1986 - Hannah and Her Sisters, Allen
1987 - The Last of England, Derek Jarman
1988 - High Hopes, Mike Leigh
1989 - The Decalogue, Krzysztof Kieślowski
1990 - Goodfellas, Martin Scorsese
1991 - Edward II, Jarman
1992 - The Long Day Closes, Terence Davies
1993 - 32 Short Films About Glenn Gould, Francois Girard
1994 - Ed Wood, Tim Burton
1995 - Safe, Todd Haynes
1996 - Trainspotting, Danny Boyle
1997 - The Sweet Hereafter, Atom Egoyan
1998 - Rushmore, Wes Anderson
1999 - Beau Travail, Claire Denis
2000 - Yi Yi, Edward Yang
2001 - The Royal Tenenbaums, Anderson
2002 - Y Tu Mama Tambien, Alfonso Cuaron
2003 - Lost in Translation, Sofia Coppola
2004 - The Return, Andrey Zvyagintsev
2005 - Me and You and Everyone We Know, Miranda July
2006 - Duck Season, Fernando Eimbcke
2007 - There Will Be Blood, Paul Thomas Anderson
2008 (so far) - One of these ten

07 July 2008

FAVORITE ALBUMS OF EVERY YEAR SINCE BIRTH

As seen here and many other places, a silly new music meme. Since I've only been seriously making lists since around 1996 (and buying albums since '89), a few of those early years were tough to determine.

1975 - Brian Eno, Another Green World
1976 - Joni Mitchell, Hejira
1977 - Brian Eno, Before and After Science
1978 - Blondie, Parallel Lines
1979 - The Clash, London Calling
1980 - Talking Heads, Remain In Light
1981 - ABBA, The Visitors
1982 - Kate Bush, The Dreaming
1983 - R.E.M., Murmur
1984 - Prince and the Revolution, Purple Rain
1985 - Kate Bush, Hounds of Love
1986 - XTC, Skylarking
1987 - R.E.M., Document
1988 - Everything But the Girl, Idlewild
1989 - The B-52s, Cosmic Thing
1990 - Concrete Blonde, Bloodletting
1991 - Seal, Seal
1992 - R.E.M., Automatic For the People
1993 - Pet Shop Boys, Very
1994 - Portishead, Dummy
1995 - Pizzicato Five, The Sound of Music by Pizzicato Five
1996 - Belle and Sebastian, If You're Feeling Sinister
1997 - Ivy, Apartment Life
1998 - Saint Etienne, Good Humor
1999 - The Magnetic Fields, 69 Love Songs
2000 - The Avalanches, Since I Left You
2001 - Steve Wynn, Here Come the Miracles
2002 - Tori Amos, Scarlet's Walk
2003 - The Shins, Chutes Too Narrow
2004 - Sufjan Stevens, Seven Swans
2005 - Saint Etienne, Tales From Turnpike House
2006 - Regina Spektor, Begin to Hope
2007 - Jens Lekman, Night Falls Over Kortedala
2008 (so far) - Sam Phillips, Don't Do Anything

02 July 2008

THE TEMPEST

When working on my thesis, I found THE TEMPEST (1979) to be the most elusive of Derek Jarman’s films, primarily because it was then unavailable on video in the States. Naturally, it was released a month after I handed in my thesis. I’ve viewed it three times in the ensuing decade, and admittedly, it still feels pretty elusive. Although one of Jarman’s more relatively accessible efforts, the whole thing seems to emanate from another dimension, perhaps some backwater that time forgot--not an altogether unpleasant place, mind you, but definitely somewhere unfamiliar.

That's not to say THE TEMPEST is an outright flop (although Vincent Canby's infamous New York Times review effectively sunk its prospects in the States). But it may be the only Jarman film I don't entirely get. I can appreciate his sometimes ingenuous tweaking of the source material, I can applaud the actors' individual accomplishments, I can revel at the striking visual scheme (interior darkness alternating with a blue-filtered exterior), but for the most part, it just doesn't move me (with the exception of one scene I'll discuss later in this essay).



I've never read Shakespeare’s final play nor seen a production of it, so I’m uncertain how faithful an adaptation it is—not that Jarman’s overly concerned with historical accuracy. This was the play's first ever feature-length film version (Paul Mazurksy would direct his own very different, but equally idiosyncratic TEMPEST three years later). To forgo the excessive costs of visualizing the play’s desert island setting, Jarman transports it to a candlelit gothic castle, where a younger-than-usual Prospero the Magician (Heathcote Williams) holds court with his daughter Miranda, his slave Caliban and the angel Ariel (JUBILEE cast members Toyah Willcox, Jack Birkett and Karl Johnson, respectively).

Structuring the film as the dream of its lead character, THE TEMPEST is where Jarman begins to explicitly, gleefully fuck with period piece-related physical conventions (he did this a little in SEBASTIANE, but to nowhere near this extent). Rather than setting the action in one particular, well-defined era, the film compresses the clothes and artifacts of multiple eras into an instinctive, fluid whole. It pops and fizzes with such deliberate anachronisms as Miranda riding a hobby horse, sudden merry-go-round music, an indoor badminton match and Ariel’s very 20th century white jumpsuit. Those who complain about the lack of historical accuracy are, in Jarman’s mind, possibly missing the point: to favor the feelings and emotions of a text over its literal construct is to breathe life into and examine it from an emotional, psychological and personal viewpoint.

Although he remains sympathetic to the play’s basic outline and thematic structure, Jarman alters just about everything else. To mold a four-hour play into a 95-minute feature, it’s expected that he’d cut out a lot of dialogue and a few soliloquies, but what remains is fairly minimal. The few words spoken do not get in the way of the guttural, subterranean ambient score, which features found sounds (like manipulated breaths) more than actual music. In contrast, a scene with Caliban cradled in the arms and suckling on the tit of his naked, grotesque witch-mother Sycorax is straight out of a vintage John Waters film, though it feels far less in-your-face than Waters would have ever allowed.

Like JUBILEE, the film plays like a series of sketches, but instead of building momentum toward some sort of cathartic break-and-release, it just meanders along. There are some neat, succinct little scenes, such as the wonderfully childlike Miranda play-acting a courtship ritual with herself on a staircase. But as a dream film, much of it doesn't fully connect to the degree that his later, even more personal (and it must be said, more challenging) works do.

But then there's "Stormy Weather":



The film's climax comes with Miranda's wedding to Ferdinand, which, in keeping with the structure, is played as pure fantasy. It kicks off with a chorus of twenty or so youthful male sailors dancing a giddy, florid stovepipe, followed by a showering of rose petals. However, that's just an appetizer to the main course: regal, decked out grande dame Elisabeth Welch (rather resembling a septuagenarian, space-aged Patti LaBelle) stops by to serenade the lucky couple (and more explicitly the admiring sailors) with a show-stopping rendition of the song "Stormy Weather". The sequence is a little audacious and more than a little camp, yet oddly touching--it's rather affectionate without lapsing into parody. It's also more jolting and memorable than most of what preceded it, and it makes for a lovely bridge into the quiet, graceful final scene, where Ariel is set free and Prospero, alone, is left to exit one world and enter the next.

Appropriately enough, THE TEMPEST also left its director at a crossroads. One could entertain an alternate reality where Jarman immediately continued making similar works. Instead, Thatcherism and a transitioning British film industry intervened: he would not complete another feature for six years.

30 June 2008

MID-YEAR REPORT

Here are my top ten films of '08 so far, in alphabetical order.

4 MONTHS, 3 WEEKS AND 2 DAYS
I first saw this tense, provocative, much-lauded Romanian film at Toronto last fall. On a second viewing during its Boston release in January, I loved it just as much.

CHRIS AND DON: A LOVE STORY
A documentary about the writer Chris Isherwood and his lover Don Bachardy and an illuminating portrait of any long-term relationship, gay or otherwise. (opens in Boston July 18)

THE FLIGHT OF THE RED BALLOON
Hou Hsiao-hsien's first film to be made outside Asia may be both his most accessible and poetic.

MAN ON WIRE
A splendid, moving account of Philippe Petit's 1974 tightrope walk across the World Tade Center towers. (opens in Boston in August)

MONKEY WARFARE
A holdover from last year's IFF Boston, The Brattle Theatre played this sly little anarchic Canadian comedy for a weekend in April.

MY WINNIPEG
Guy Maddin outdoes himself yet again, combining fantasy, documentary, personal essay, and DETOUR femme fatale Ann Savage. (opens in Boston July 11)

REPRISE
Since my review from about a month ago, this Norwegian film has stayed with me more and more--in retrospect, its flaws seem minor in relation to the film's accomplishment and impact.

THE TRACEY FRAGMENTS
If it weren't for JUNO, you know this groundbreaking Canadian indie never would have played south of the border; more than even MY WINNIPEG, expect this one to be a future cult classic.

THE UNIVERSE OF KEITH HARING
One of the best artist docs I've seen, partially because it's so exuberant and well constructed, and partially because Haring was so one-of-a-kind.

THE VISITOR
My other favorite from Toronto, I haven't seen it again during its US release. But I'm ecstatic that a film that could've so easily fallen through the cracks has reached the robust (by indie standards) audience it deserves. It proves that in some rare cases, great reviews are all a little film needs.

Also worth seeing: ALEXANDRA, AT THE DEATH HOUSE DOOR, THE AXE IN THE ATTIC, THE BAND'S VISIT, CHOP SHOP, ENCOUNTERS AT THE END OF THE WORLD, JELLYFISH, PAGEANT, SONG SUNG BLUE, TOWELHEAD

25 June 2008

P-TOWN SUNSET

I spent last weekend at the ever-fabulous, ever-exhausting Provincetown International Film Festival. Saw many great docs and one very good fiction feature; reviews are coming in another week (probably two).

Here are a few snapshots from when my time in town was winding down:




10 June 2008

BIGGER, STRONGER, FASTER*



As a short kid growing up in Poughkeepsie in the 1980s, Christopher Bell and his brothers Mark and Mike were picked-on outcasts until the tremendously pumped-up likes of Hulk Hogan and Arnold Schwarzenegger came along and saturated American pop culture. In emulating their heroes, the three brothers became gym rats and all sought careers as professional wrestlers and weightlifters. All three also eventually tried anabolic steroids to stay competitive in a world of ever-stronger, more muscularly enhanced men (and women). Mark and Mike continued to use them; citing personal and moral issues regarding the drug, Christopher stopped using after awhile and made this documentary.

In examining the drug's increased usage in bodybuilding, wrestling and other professional sports, Bell strives to show how symptomatic it is of America's desire to be the best in everything, not settling for number two. For the most part, he succeeds. Obviously influenced by Michael Moore (whom he resembles vocally), Bell takes a far less slanted approach to his thesis. Although the subject matter is personal and set up as such, he approaches it from nearly every possible angle: inquiring about both the positive and negative effects of steroids, who uses them and why, and the subtle differences between them and the array of other performance enhancing drugs on and off the market. I was impressed with many of the unexpected things he considered: in one scene, he interviews a man living with AIDS who greatly benefited from the drug; in others, he uncovers the disturbing but telling rationalization many athletes (such as Barry Bonds) make for lying about using the drug: everyone else does it.

At times, Bell is both too earnest and a little exhaustive: there's enough material for one and a half films and as it drags a little in its last half-hour, the impact lessens. He also could stand to use less of Moore's shtick, such as the occasionally cutesy music or stunt (in one of the latter, he employs some illegal immigrants to make seem performance enhancing drugs in his home). But Bell makes a convincing case against illegal steroid use; as for whether they're "good" or "bad", he doesn't obscure the many shades of grey that question raises.

02 June 2008

REPRISE


REPRISE is far from the first film to capture the ebullience of being a young adult, but it is one of the rare ones to consider the full spectrum of post-adolescence emotions. Both the thrill of having an entire adulthood ahead of one's self and all the anxieties and uncertainties that come with the territory are given equal measure.
We meet best friends Philip (Anders Danielsen Lie) and Erik (Espen Klouman-Høiner) as they simultaneously deposit manuscripts of their first books into a mailbox. Immediately, an omniscient narrator accompanies a breathlessly paced montage of the subsequent acclaim and intellectually stimulating adventures bestowed among these two young men and their published works--but it's only an idyllic version of what they hope will happen. In actuality, Philip's book is published, but Erik's is rejected. Six months pass, and the film resumes with Erik and a few friends driving to a mental health facility to pick up Philip, who is recovering following a suicide attempt.
From there, the film proceeds forward, with a few carefully chosen flashbacks. We learn that Philip's collapse was partially brought on by the end of a brief but passionate, obsessive relationship with Kari (Viktoria Winge). As Erik takes care of his friend, finds a publisher for his own book and slowly grows disillusioned with his surroundings, Philip has lost the will to write, or do much of anything. When Kari re-enters his life, his behavior increasingly points towards signs of serious mental illness (rather than stress) that may be to blame for his malaise. All three leads are very good: Lie keeps Philip from coming across as too much of an enigma, Winge tackles the girlfriend role with grit and subtlety, and Klouman-Høiner holds our attention even as his character is the film's most normal and least angst-ridden.
In his first feature, Norwegian director Joachim Trier proves himself a skilled borrower: the narration is straight out of Y TU MAMA TAMBIEN, the graphics and narrative construction are reminiscent of TRAINSPOTTING, and the overall attitude reeks of French New Wave (particularly Godard). Despite all this, he's not a poseur, for as REPRISE recalls these touchstones, it often feels nothing like them. The pacing and drained-out colors are more common to a Dogme film, and the tone is moody and atmospheric but not pretentious. As much as Trier loves his ambitious characters, there's a sense of detached wisdom towards them that keeps the film from feeling contrived.

01 June 2008

TSUNAMI TIMES TWO

Here's something I was unable to fit into my Coolidge Corner photo essay. Two questions:



1. When was this picture taken?



2. And when was this picture taken? The answer to both:



Why, at the same time, of course. This sushi joint's original location was on the left; about two or so years ago, it opened up a second location on the right, meant to be a luncheon counter, I believe. And yet, the entire restaurant has moved over there, while the first location has been shuttered. And it's stayed this way ever since. How strange...