Wednesday, August 23, 2006

No, I haven't been sitting on my hands


Holy Crap, multiple posts in one day. As you can see I have been writing this August. I was just working extra days at the Hotel, writing a short film, and sending out Departures to film fests. If anyone hasn't seen Departures and would like to, give me your address and I will send one off. Hopefully there aren't thousands of you, cause then you bastards will have to pay. Starting tomorrow Mona and I are participants in the mighty Asian movie making marathon. We have to make a ten minute short in a week, from start to finish --- out of thin air. We feel we have a great cast and by the end of this month we'll have another great short film. Whether we win or not we will be one step closer to making our feature.

Fitting into your proper aspect ratio: Part 2


I wish I could go back and meet Spielberg and Lucas in the 60’s and 70’s. I bet I would probably even want to hang out with these young filmmakers. They had so much promise. They remind me of the stories I heard about Truffault and Godard in the fifties: in love with cinema and ready to set the world on fire. It seems that over time they have fallen prey to artifice and have become immersed in their own myopia. And now they want to return to the a priori days but, as the saying goes, you can never go home -- they’re too dispassionate and these fat-cats can’t come back from that.

It comes down to this: people always want that which is most coveted. But if Hollywood is at your fingertips, do you really want the harsh realities of indie movies? Established directors presume to think they can make an artistic statement as potent as Pie, Donnie Darko, Brick, You and Me and Everyone we Know or Primer. Sorry, but it’s highly unlikely that this is going to happen. If you have handlers, pundits, and anyone you refer to as “your people” or use the term “working lunch” then making Killing of a Chinese Bookie might be a stretch, mais oui? And, anyone who considers the backlot at Universal “home”, as Spielberg did on a recent TV interview, will have a hard time fitting into the independent world where they won’t have their own personal assistants. The real shame is that after the fat cat directors finish their version of an indie movie, a large sector of the built-in audience will buy into their expensive marketing machine and think it’s going to be quality indie; that is until they step into the theatre and realize things really aren’t clickin’.

The only reason directors should want to make movies is to do work in an art form that is unique. If not, why not just write a novel or make and album or even commercials? One of the more brilliant literary adaptations of the past years, Morvern Callar, managed to subvert the pitfalls of screenplay translation and become something unto itself alone. By reading the synopsis of this movie (girl’s boyfriend commits suicide, she steals and publishes his manuscript, goes to Spain) you are in no way prepared for the visually arresting vision of director Lynne Ramsey’s final product. For most directors it would be a mind numbing string of enervating plot points. Ramsey understands the power of filmmaking and uses it to it’s fullest potential. Her success story, sadly, rarely exists in the straight world of corporate Hollywood.

So what does Independent mean?

Independent does not necessarily mean low budget. In fact, many indie directors have clandestine agendas of making the next bloated Hollywood production. Their real intentions aren’t exposed till much later. Movies like Hard Candy, Whale Rider and Bend it like Beckham are good case studies. Hard Candy is director David Slade’s attempt at a Morgan Freeman/Ashley Judd serial killer movie. Basically, it’s Slade’s demo reel to Hollywood. The latter 2 of this troika are little more than Disney kids movies done on shoestring budgets. They fit in perfectly on double bills with Freaky Friday and Princess Diaries. When those directors finally did make their big budget hollywood movies the gimmick of being indie darlings couldn't save their flacid tales. Shane Carruth (director of Primer) is the antithesis to this obsequious trio. Primer was a movie that didn’t sit well with the marketers or financiers. It was made for 7000 dollars after all. As gripping as all the presidents men and as complex 2001: a space odessey this movie had the power and gravitas of a master directors mid career masterpiece; not a debut. It will be remembered long after the sugar high created by North Country and Dallas have vanished.

The directors of Brick and Sin City have both been quoted as identifying inflated minimum wages as the main culprit of bloated budgets in Hollywood. Look at a movie like Sky Captain with its 100 million dollar budget compared to Sin City which was done for a measly 30 million. Both used A-list actors and no physical sets; all the actors performed in front of blue and green screens. Yet, Sin City has, arguably, a superior look, tone and script. So where did that 70 million dollars go? Into the hands of the useless so-called experts whom, we are told, are essential to getting’ a film “in the can”.

Richard Linklater, Steven Soderbergh and Gus Van Sant are good examples of directors who take advantage of Hollywood’s positive aspects yet retain their original visions of what filmmaking should be. Sure these guys make their overpriced star vehicles but then they return to what really inspires them. For instance, Linklater went from the Newton Boys to Tape and Waking Life with ease. After making Good Will Hunting and Finding Forrester, Gus Van Sant went on to make three plotless films that clipped along at leisurely pace (too leisurely for some). Soderbergh, the most successful of the three, started with a string of failures in the nineties, made the truly bizarre Schizopolis then came back hard with the universally excepted Out of Sight, Erin Brokovich and Ocean’s 11. These directors know how to play by the system’s rules yet have mastered that intangible quality that creates resonance with the audience.

After my rant, here’s a surprising thought. Amazing films are still getting made within this system. Luckily, there are just so many utter disasters to rail against that it’s easy to make a good film in this climate. American Beauty, Thin Red Line and Fight Club are prime examples of occasional miracles that ooze through the fissures of that hermetically sealed reality-suppressed bio-sphere in California. Miracles do happen, unfortunately the suits don't know how to bottle and reverse engineer it.

To Spielberg and your cronies, you claim to be powerless in the system but you are all both engineers and dramatis personae of this industry. You’re so powerful yet you complain you’re powerless to have your personal projects funded by Hollywood. This is complete bullshit. I call your bullshit and say you do have the power. Hell, Spielberg even has the financial power to fund his own indie movies without breaking his fund manager’s sweat.

How about taking a lesson from independent filmmakers who are willing to take risks, make sacrifices, and use their own money to realize their artistic visions? A nice dream but I don't figure it will happen anytime soon.

The real cure for this disease is to purge these messy tent pole disasters with a deluge of great films. If hollywood sees that films don't have to be made for so much money then maybe they'll sever the lifelines to these leeches. It is getting to the point where you can make a film for almost the same price it costs to make an Music CD. So instead of just making Dark side of the Moon you can also make the Wizard of OZ for a few dollars more. Then you and your friends can listen and watch your Opus as the Bong bubbles on ---- and yes the hapless schmucks in LA can spend millions marketing it and tell all the industry rags how they were truly responsible for its success.

The upshot is more and more young directors are taking cues from the new wave of hollywood directors and not the afformentioned old guard. David O' Russell's I heart Huckabees is more important to a young kid than the Terminal and it's a better world because of it. What inspires me even more is that kid from shit-spat Saskatchewan who knows nothing about film history, walks into Best Buy to buy a camcorder and makes his own personal Eraserhead.

Reinstate the obvious, disassociate the banal


I have been listening to Sunset Rubdown as of late and I can honestly tell you I am entranced by this newish cd of theirs. Shut up I am dreaming it is called and, hell yes, I like it better than the mothership from which this pod was jettisoned---Wolf Parade. I think the reason is, it delves a bit deeper into the realm of indie-rock esoteria. I'm a big fan of this crazy (at times ambient) almost-prog---due to the extreme length of some tracks---magic that Spencer Krug is laying down here. The symphonic soundscapes he whips up on this disc are topped off with amazing guitar work. If the guitar freak out on the title track doesn't affect you at a gut level then your guts are full of shit. Not since 1995 have I heard such great slop-tastic licks as these (see: Pavement, Sebadoh and Built to Spill). That old school shit I speak of saved my sanity as I made my way through the throngs of Salarymen in Seoul, South Korea--- walkman at extreme sound pressure levels.*

There are some true surprises on this disc. The first time I heard the ending on We took a vote and said no I felt like I was hearing Radiohead's The Bends for the first time (also a Korea discovery). You don't see a lot of the sounds coming at you on this album...that's how it should always be...but rarely is.

So, it's albums like this that give my life purpose and show that the perceived futility is worth it. In a world that can create such beauty as this album, well it can't be too bad. Be patient, it'll get better this album urges me. I can say that Spencer Krug is one of the few who has taken the baton from Destroyer and made something complementary and wholly originally from the experience. It makes me wonder what people see in all the hugely popular factory refurbished indie outfits as of late (No need to name them, they are abundantly aware of their sins).

definitely up there with Band of Horses and Cat Power in the best of 2006.

*Yes, you are going to get a bit of a history lesson ala Rube circa 1995. I taught English in that hotbed of world cinema: South Korea. Music and film were my saving grace. I would sit in my yahgwan and dream of the west. My friends and I didn't realize how much we were into North America until if was ripped from our greedy claws. We were only there for the money and the price we had to pay was loneliness. Yes, there is a screenplay in it and I will make the movie someday---starring Lou Pucci.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

High and Low

Kevin Smith's recent blog entry explains his fascination with Linklater's Slacker and How that was the movie that inspired him to be a filmmaker. Apparently he watches it every birthday to remind him. Amazing he didn't carry on in the tradition of Linklater.

A Scanner Darkly and Clerks 2 are the most recent offerings from these two filmmakers that I've been watching closely over the last 10 years. I really enjoyed both of these movies albiet trying to reconcile the differences is almost shear lunacy.

Clerks 2: The worst movie I've ever loved.

Kevin Smith, although funny as shit, is as predictable as any other modern director. He is acutely aware of his flaws as a filmmaker yet not really interested, or even worse, capable of changing. This is fine but from a well-rounded movie goers point of view not the best situation. Kevin's knowing nods to the stupid plot contrivences (that are the wonder bread and butter of his films) doesn't in itself make them go away. It's the garbage in garbage out scenario. I saw Kevin's top ten list last year and... it's a sad, sad shit list except for the amazing Sin City. If he just watches mainstream North American movies (War of The Worlds) he will not rise above the muck.

Linklater, the more thoughtful of the two, consistantly surprises me. He can go from Tape to School of Rock (whilst making a shitload of money I might add) and then come back with Before Sunset. He is a fan of the oft maligned subtitled exotica known as the art house film. He puts that into his mainstream movies just as Tarantino does. If you're going to steal, do it from the Ozu, Godard, and Fassbinder not from the sludge merchants in LA.

When Kevin Smith takes a dip in the mainstream he drowns. Case in point: Jersey Girl. Sentimentality and cute moments don't really move a story along once you take out all the profanity and pop-culture banter. In School of Rock, Linklater had the amazing comic talent of Jack Black and the amazing writer Mike White as enabler and architect for this pre-teen flick.

Kevin is a terrible director who doesn't come up with stories that surprise you or make you think. I think Kevin should try to get someone else to interpret one of his scripts. See what happened when Rodriquez let someone co-direct one of his movies. Bam, motherfucker, he makes the best movie of his career.

Touchstones to these films:
A scanner Darkly - Alphaville, Stalker, Code 46
Clerks 2 - Meatballs, Porky's and even worse Wedding Crashers. Albiet the dialog is way better but it is constructed with the same artless abandon.

I will still read Kevin Smith's blog but I am becoming increasingly tired of his schtick. He is becoming more of a media figure than a filmmaker. We go to him for opinions and not revelations; that's why Kevin is filling in for Ebert during his recovery. I think Linklater will always be too busy making films to stop and comment on pop-culture. He prefers to keep it in-the-frame and not expound about it on his blog. Does he even have a blog? Probably not.

I still have some hope for Kevin but I think most will look at him as some one who triumphed over adversity than someone who changed the landscape of American cinema. Linklater on the other hand...

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Three Times


A great review of Hou Hsiao Hsien's Three Times. Just thought I needed to make it abundantly clear I'm into this dude's films.

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

That Obscure Object of Desire


For almost a month now I have been immersing myself in the archaic sounds of the lovely Scottish band Camera Obscura. It seems I've come to their shore at just the right time. Previous albums have shown moments of great clarity and strength but this new one, Let's Get out of this Country, is phenomenal from start to finish. While listening to it on my run or while doing timed writing sessions I get all these great visual images. This is the third great Scottish album that has come out in the last year (behind Boards of Canada and Mogwai.) Tracyanne Campbell's vocals remind me of early 'everything but the girl'. This album is actually a logical progression from EBTG's cover of 'the only living boy in new york' (Simon and Garfunkel). When I heard that song on the soundtrack to the movie Tadpole I wanted more, more, more. But alas when I went to download more EBTG tracks I was left empty eared. Now, some years later, I'm satiated. Finally my sixties-meets-present urge has been quelled.