FilmMattic

Auteur-ior Motives Editorial note: I wanted to put this list together sooner, so as not to compromise its already dwindling relevance -- but a few important films remained unseen and I felt that their exclusion would render my own personal recollections of the past year incomplete.       It was for me a milestone year in cinema. Perhaps more than any previous year, I devoted significant time to the art form. Buoyed by intense curiosity and passion, I've undergone what I believe is my own loosely attentive film school. In my quest to achieve wider cinematic erudition, there was really no limit to what I could do: Studying filmmakers obsessively, seeking out any literature I could get my hands on, attempting to quantify the quintessence of filmmaking, in the hopes of reducing it to a concept that I could more sufficiently understand; I mean who does this stuff?        But all of this deep stimulation is secondary to the real ...

Show Me The You're So Money, Baby       Imagine the year is 1996. Los Del Rio's Macarena and Blackstreet's No Diggity are dominating the music charts. The Spice Girls are infuriating every teenage boy who is just beginning to experiment with the opposite sex.  Independence Day  annihilates the Summer Box Office and convinces me that being dropped off six hours before it screens is an ingenious way to spend six hours. Everyone is "being showed the money!" in inappropriate outbursts to flex their obnoxious  Jerry Maguire muscle. The Summer Olympics are being held in Atlanta. Ebay has just launched. Sadly, Ask Jeeves follows suit. No one knows who the hell Justin Bieber is.

Bone Hugs-N-Disharmony       RUST [rust] v.        1. To deteriorate or degenerate through inactivity or neglect.        2. To impair or spoil, as by misuse or inactivity.  The Free Dictionary: By Farlex       Jacques Audiard dangerously conforms to a sociological latticework that breeds dysfunction and chaos. He is not interested in exploring the complications of life through rose-colored glasses. Materialistic goons spawned from the next incarnation of The Queen of Versailles are not his concern .  Disharmony is his unifying force. People who operate desperately on the fringes of society are his focus.

Sentenced to Write Editor's Note: Realizing that this is a site dedicated to film and is meant to foster discussion therein, I shamefully admit that I have been derelict in my aficionado duties. Which is the business of reviewing films. So, starting now, I will be fulfilling my ardent obligation and writing a review. I hope this will be a reemergence back into regular blogging and reviewing, and that I will not fall victim to malaise. FilmMattic reviews shall persist in perpetuity as far as I'm concerned...       Perhaps the hypnotic gestures of fate energized my inner-critic because here I reflect on a movie spawned from the prodigious creative might of Orson Welles. That movie is  The Trial. And as I reflect and yield to the calm solace of introspection, I am alarmed to discover that I have not written a satisfactory review in an eternity and a day.  This blog has not, as its inception dictates, appropriately performed its primary function. ...

Looks Like I've Made It       It is important to maintain a semblance of tradition despite the jarring reality that my blog has exhibited reclusive tendencies more severe than Henry David Thoreau during his Walden Pond stint. While receding quietly into the distance, a compulsion to maintain some blogging consistency, even if remote, propels me forward. And what represents forward at the present moment is my annual edition of the "Best Films of the Past Year;" substitute 2012 for past year.

Silent Film Edition: Part III       D.W. Griffith and F.W. Murnau, two names featured prominently in my blog, are titans of cinema's past. The purpose of highlighting their work; therefore, is to underline their importance, to inspire an interest however mild in their exceptional work. Any film buff could comfortably laud their accomplishments. Such a statement presupposes that every consumer of film is desirous of the "buff" distinction. The box office receipts for films like Jack and Jill and New Year's Eve  confirm my suspicions that a voracious awareness of film history, for the average moviegoer, is unnecessary. Well, I am not the average moviegoer. And I'm here to tell you, loyal readers who frequent my blog, neither are you. My commentary presumes your attentiveness for, yes, cinema's history. Presumptuous as it may be, this Silent Film segment, which will continue in perpetuity, is designed to fulfill your curiosities. W...

Silent Film Edition: Part II       In Part II of my Silent Film Marathon, I discuss two groundbreaking German films, their style reflective of the highly influential German Expressionist movement and their function emblematic of the horror/surreal/fantasy genres. Enjoy. And please feel free to impart some wisdom below. I'm eager to engage discussion. 

Silent Film Edition: Part I       There is no way I could conjoin, at least with any faithful accord, the words film and connoisseur without examining the silent film era. And not some thumbnail critique, but an honest inspection where the terms zeitgeist and technical efficiency dominate the lexicon.        For the obsessively xenophobic moviegoer, whose idea of a movie predicated strictly upon visuals, pantomime, and intertitles inspires loathsome charges of supreme boredom, this feature shall, I can only hope (thank you, Princess Leia), instill in you perhaps a scintilla of affection for the era that gave birth to our beloved cinema.       The idea of merging sound and image, specifically "motion picture," is as old as film itself, but technical challenges, arising from difficulties synchronizing dialogue, prevented their practical marriage. With the advent of the Vitaphone system, ushering in ...

The Path of the Unfair Man Paths of Glory (1957) - Stanley Kubrick War, at its very core, pitting man opposite man, nation against nation, ideology vs. ideology,  is objectionable; gainful byproducts—heroism, courage, honor, and freedom—materialize only in the absence of tyranny. Kubrick's Paths of Glory is a luminous albeit controversial examination of this very conflict, in the face of suffering, behind a facade of honor, amidst a path of overwhelming destruction. The real cost of war is not measured in any dollar investment, but in stark contrast, by the morbid tabulations of human loss. World War I drastically altered the landscape of aggression, as trench warfare disintegrated notions of civility. An imprint of cynicism piggybacked victory, as beleaguered soldiers, dehumanized by the brutality of war, were forced to confront an abject reality bound by their corrupt leaders' miserly aims. While Glory, focusing on the plight of soldiers in battle, avoids any ins...

Tattoos Penetrate Skin, Provoke Discussion       David Fincher is a maestro of mood. His darkly probing psychical lens, marked by lurid curiosity, depicts menace in the shadows of decrepit dealings, corruption on the fringes of institutional hierarchy, and dishonesty in the despicable terrain of a broken land, whose violent lifeblood, objectified by lascivious miscreants, runs amok of both order and reason.

Fighting The Good Fight       A traditional high school film unfurls with less excitement than a trip to the dentist, a dentist, in fact, with credentials best exemplified by this smiling buffoon of Bond lore . Convention elucidates, often blithely, a celebration of Mr. Drab and Mr. Dull, figures whose genetic code reads, in the strictest interpretation: Minutia of mundanity. Boring and banal, let's be honest, are two words deathly undeserving of cinematic treatment. Thankfully, an exhilarated gasp and animated fist pump later, Chris Shimojima's ( Director of Madeleine Zabel, reviewed by yours truly ) newest short, JT vs. the Good Guys , competently circumvents convention, revealing a nontraditional high school film with gusto.

Strains, Lanes and Automatons        Not quite the year of Planes, Trains and Automobiles , 2011 distinguished itself as the year, which demonstrated Hollywood's recidivist tendencies (bad habits), driven, unsurprisingly, by a strong capitalistic urge to promote superheroes, comic book characters, and any other potentially robust profit stream; I guess the ancillary benefits associated with excessive merchandising are too potent a force (sadly Luke Skywalker would pose no threat to the gross infiltration of Hollywood executives, after all, his franchise helped establish the model). Indeed, 2011 was the year of the superhero. But these monetarily-inspired incarnations, while neither transcendent nor groundbreaking, were quite commendable ( X-Men: First Class, Thor, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 ), revealing an advantageous benefit of superhero hysteria: Successful blending of art-house and commercial fare.       Obj...

Fight To The Dual        " Warriors, come out to pla-i-ay. " From one cult film with the connotation of a man devoted to war to what surely is destined to be another, Warrior is a sterling exhibition, and most important, a heartfelt example of a film that embraces multidimensional composition. Guilty of an inopportune release date (after the enormous bounty of praise given to The Wrestler and The Fighter ) Warrior establishes its champion custodian of direction, Mr. Gavin O'Connor as a vital resource in American cinema; a director whose chief talents insinuate a very basic understanding of humanity. O'Connor weaves gut-wrenching emotion into a gripping, embattled tapestry of duality, pieced together by men, equal part martial artist and pugilist, whose primal pursuit in life involves barbaric bouts of manhood. O'Connor's weighty suggestions of dual purpose—mythical vs. reality, hardship vs. romance, style vs. substance, home vs. away—underscore hi...

Nature's Inherent Beauty        Werner Herzog, an enigmatic visionary in an obsessive search for truth and meaning, is responsible for some of the most provocative, ambitious, and enrapturing documentaries/films in cinema's history: Aguirre, the Wrath of God, Fitzcarraldo, Grizzly Man, and The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser represent some of his finest work. His latest documentary, Cave of Forgotten Dreams, could have been a painstaking dissection detailing the history of crayons. I would have been captivated. But Forgotten Dreams, fleeing the doldrums of industry, actually documents something extraordinary: Mysteries of France's Chauvet Cave, a clandestine site that houses the oldest-known paintings in the world.

Compassion For Life       Embedded in Will Reiser's autobiographical script, which springs to life from the jovial stewardship of Jonathan Levine ( The Wackness ), is an axiom of humanity that I, myself, learned from an Eastern Philosophies class after being subjected to a quaint little film, Patch Adams . This axiom, transplanting space and time, consists of a core human function: Compassion. While Patch treats this universal philosophy blithely, almost in a reductive course, the message still resonates. A philosophy of compassion, exemplified in the treatment of patients through humor and humility, is one I suspect Reiser identifies with most closely.

A Preview of My Top Ten Movies of 2011                        As I formulate my year-end list of my Top Ten Favorite Movies of 2011, I've decided to highlight the first two: Rise of the Planet of the Apes and The Guard. For very different reasons, I enjoyed both these films immensely.        One defies the big-budget, blockbuster model while the other achieves a measure of genius, which I've come to learn, is far more prevalent in the world of independent cinema. You see, indies operate free of big studio control, which, while neglecting a seemingly limitless swath of funds, affords a certain artistic freedom. Blockbusters, existing within the dimensions of a self-fulfilling prophecy, are burdened by the mitigating tentacles of studio interference: marketers, producers, artistic or capitalistic, and hordes of other artistically-draining forces.  ...

Hugo Go Gadget        Since the Inception of the Motion Picture, at the dawn of the 20th Century, creative endeavors have blossomed appreciably. Willed by a creative purpose, at its core both tangible and attainable, the progenitors of cinematic arts, progressively forward and vitally distinct, have spearheaded an industry of ever-changing parts: That industry is, of course, film. Movies, foremost in their design, necessitate a fervent willingness to dream, capture and effectuate that ephemeral yet instinctual spirit of imagination. Nursing this spirit, a surmountable though arduous challenge, are the generational Fore Fathers of Film: Names like Chaplin, Eisenstein, Bunuel, Lang, Renoir, Hawks, Ford, Hitchcock, Kubrick, Coppola, Fellini, Truffaut, Spielberg, Woo, Kar-wai and yes, you guessed it, Scorsese. 

Driven To Critique             This is a teaser of my next "What I've Been Watching" segment. A veritable assortment of Classical Cinema, from Scarface: The Shame of a Nation to Sunset Boulevard , has assaulted my exuberant eyes and ears. And at some point in the foreseeable future, I intend to share my sincerest thoughts.

The Bay of Pigs       The Bay of Pigs invasion may have been unsuccessful back in 1961, but, in 2011, the world has successfully become victims of a new kind of invasion: The Bay of Pigging Out. Special effects overload, Check; Spectacular destruction, Check; More explosions than you'd see in a Cold War era nuclear test facility, Check; A clumsy narrative, Check; Gigantic robot carnage, Check; Stylized CGI on a colossal scale matched only by running time (a not-so-brisk 157 minutes), Check; Indefensible one-liners, Check; More slow motion effects than August Musger, its inventor, could have ever dreamed, Check; Actors named Shia LaBeouf and Rosie Huntington-Whiteley giving the audience a smooching sendoff, Check on the Checker. But here's the thing. I actually enjoyed it; not the kissing, the movie. Attention deficit of the people, by the people, for the people shall not perish, so long as Michael Benjamin Bay is running the show. If plausibly ludicrous (an ox...

The Magic 8 Ball Knows All (Minor Spoilers)               Ask the magic eight ball a question: who is J.J. Abrams? J.J. Abrams is a purveyor of mystery and suspense. It is certain. But a more arresting realization can be gleamed from the co-creating mind of Lost . Beyond the scope of fortune-telling toys, I posit this belief: J.J. Abrams is a spectacular visual artist, a storytelling savant who wields his magical wand under the unique rubric of filmmaking. He is a tenured, world-renowned professor, the Indiana Jones of imagination, and he teaches a master's level course. He calls it, brashly but befittingly, the art of a movie. Beyond a terrifying waiting list, a number that's equivalent to the legion of Miami Heat haters, what does that all mean exactly?