sucker emcee
I do not buy DVDs, 99% of the time, unless there is something wildly spectacular about them. And by wildly spectacular I mean that completely subjective thing that you cannot appropriately describe to those closest to you without sounding like a cineaste snob. Like Roger Ebert's annoying third cousin. Like a boring asshole, or worse, just an asshole. Some call it passion; others tell you to get outside more.
For anyone who's watched the films of Kiyoshi Kurosawa, Paul Thomas Anderson, David Fincher or Park Chan-Wook, you know what I'm getting at. Anyone who has an equally giddy response to Singing In The Rain, The Dirty Dozen and Goodfellas knows what it's about. If you find yourself seeking hard to find Kitano films or David Cross' Let America Laugh or Satoshi Kon's animated series Paranoia Agent, you understand. I find all of the above to be brilliant stuff, each in their own way.
Which brings me, alternately, to the cinematic abortion I witnessed the other night. The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou, starring Bill Murray and directed by Wes Anderson, is a film so deadpan in its delivery that it almost seems inert. And I say this as someone who thinks Rushmore (and to a lesser degree, The Royal Tenenbaums) is one of the, oh, 100 best American films of the past decade. That's meant as high praise. And it's because of how good those films are that I anticipate with great fervor the next film by Anderson, just as I do Scorsese, Miike, Jeunot, Tarantino, a handful of directors whose films always leave you wanting more. But Aquatic just doesn't cut it; in retrospect it is the biggest disappointment of all the films in 2004. If it weren't for Seu Jorge's terrific renderings of Bowie songs in Portugese and Anderson's knack for both terrific casting and photography, it would have been a pretty painful waste of time.
Schindler's List is no fun, Sexy Beast is not deep, and The Good, The Bad and The Ugly is not terribly graceful, but they are all brilliant films I am proud to own. Sometimes fun, depth, grace and artfulness - or sheer craftsmanship - cut pretty deeply into that subjective thing, and you just have to admit something's great, whether it's your cup of tea or not. Sometimes you just know what's what. After watching The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou, I know that Wes Anderson's next film will be better, because it can't be much worse without him becoming Mike Figgis or Uwe Boll.
Ouch. Forgive me. Figgis still has Leaving Las Vegas to save him. Boll is just a 21st century Ed Wood with a John Carpenter complex. And Wes Anderson is far better than all of that.
For anyone who's watched the films of Kiyoshi Kurosawa, Paul Thomas Anderson, David Fincher or Park Chan-Wook, you know what I'm getting at. Anyone who has an equally giddy response to Singing In The Rain, The Dirty Dozen and Goodfellas knows what it's about. If you find yourself seeking hard to find Kitano films or David Cross' Let America Laugh or Satoshi Kon's animated series Paranoia Agent, you understand. I find all of the above to be brilliant stuff, each in their own way.
Which brings me, alternately, to the cinematic abortion I witnessed the other night. The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou, starring Bill Murray and directed by Wes Anderson, is a film so deadpan in its delivery that it almost seems inert. And I say this as someone who thinks Rushmore (and to a lesser degree, The Royal Tenenbaums) is one of the, oh, 100 best American films of the past decade. That's meant as high praise. And it's because of how good those films are that I anticipate with great fervor the next film by Anderson, just as I do Scorsese, Miike, Jeunot, Tarantino, a handful of directors whose films always leave you wanting more. But Aquatic just doesn't cut it; in retrospect it is the biggest disappointment of all the films in 2004. If it weren't for Seu Jorge's terrific renderings of Bowie songs in Portugese and Anderson's knack for both terrific casting and photography, it would have been a pretty painful waste of time.
Schindler's List is no fun, Sexy Beast is not deep, and The Good, The Bad and The Ugly is not terribly graceful, but they are all brilliant films I am proud to own. Sometimes fun, depth, grace and artfulness - or sheer craftsmanship - cut pretty deeply into that subjective thing, and you just have to admit something's great, whether it's your cup of tea or not. Sometimes you just know what's what. After watching The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou, I know that Wes Anderson's next film will be better, because it can't be much worse without him becoming Mike Figgis or Uwe Boll.
Ouch. Forgive me. Figgis still has Leaving Las Vegas to save him. Boll is just a 21st century Ed Wood with a John Carpenter complex. And Wes Anderson is far better than all of that.
posted by scn at 7:44 AM
<< Home