Two Goodyear blimps float above a football field. Inside each blimp are four stewardesses and a table of grapes. Underneath each table is Goodyear, a female creature that controls the blimps, as well as the grapes, which come out through her high-heels, and in turn control dancers on the field. Repeat for 45 minutes.
Does it mean anything? According to the director it's something about achieving a state of pure potential. There is some sexual symbolism involved. Goodyear is kind of hot. There are weird things on the table with the grapes, phallic symbols? And what about the stewardesses, what are they all about?
Christ, is this really worth anyones time? You can't just create something that makes no sense, throw in some symbolism and expect it to be art. It might be called art by the New York Times, but I really think there is something important missing here: emotional impact. Maybe it doesn't work because most of the symbolic references are so obtuse, in some cases referencing the director's other work. I hate that.
The cinematography is excellent, the music kind of annoying, the special effects as dated as one would expect from 1996.
While there is a deeper message behind the film, it's a very bland one. There are more interesting ways to express ideas than symbolism, and more interesting symbols to display than what is shown here.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Monday, July 23, 2007
The Brown Bunny
Firstly, for those that doubt Vincent Gallo is a filmmaker worth taking seriously at all, I recommend his previous film, Buffalo 66. A much more accessible, though still unique film, it explores similar themes to The Brown Bunny. Namely, Vincent Gallo's trouble with women.
The Brown Bunny is, without doubt, not a film for everyone. The pacing is unlike that of virtually all films made in America, the only recent film I can name like this is Gus Van Sant's Gerry, with Matt Damon and Casey Affleck. Foreign filmmakers such as Abbas Kiarostami and Andrei Tarkovsky have also used this style, with many of their films now viewed as masterpieces of cinematic art.
My purpose here is not to say that those who dislike the film are simply "not smart enough" to understand it. The technique of 99% of films given a decent level of distribution today feed us a steady stream of information, with each scene abiding by a certain formula, in which a new piece of information is told to us and the hero is brought closer to or drawn away from a set goal. When so many films are seen that abide by this pattern a film such as The Brown Bunny, which uses an almost entirely different cinematic language, sticks out like a sore thumb.
We view the actions of the main character without being given any indication of his internal thoughts, and even the films final revelation does not adequately explain his reasons for behaving in such a way. Such a view of character is far closer to reality than any Hollywood film, in which characters motivations are always apparent to us. What is more important than his intentions is the way he feels, which, and this is a debatable point, is conveyed to the audience in a manner that is slow, but artistically satisfying. The music, editing, choice of shots, dialogue and performances in the film let this feeling wash over us at its own pace. But only if we are open to it.
The acting is also very different from Hollywood fare, as performers do not indicate their emotions in a transparent way. They behave in a style that is synchronous with that of the editing and action of the film, rather than attempting to behave in a realistic manner, or what is perceived as being realistic from expectations given to us by other films. It's a way of acting that is closer to the work of Robert Bresson than any current filmmaker. Another reason many have rejected the film as nonsense.
It's easy to see the notorious final scene of the film as exploitative, especially if you haven't found yourself involved in the film up to this point. But Gallo is not out to exploit, in fact he has, as an artist who is responsible for virtually every aspect of the film, exposed to us a part of his psyche that very few filmmakers would dare show.
The Brown Bunny is, without doubt, not a film for everyone. The pacing is unlike that of virtually all films made in America, the only recent film I can name like this is Gus Van Sant's Gerry, with Matt Damon and Casey Affleck. Foreign filmmakers such as Abbas Kiarostami and Andrei Tarkovsky have also used this style, with many of their films now viewed as masterpieces of cinematic art.
My purpose here is not to say that those who dislike the film are simply "not smart enough" to understand it. The technique of 99% of films given a decent level of distribution today feed us a steady stream of information, with each scene abiding by a certain formula, in which a new piece of information is told to us and the hero is brought closer to or drawn away from a set goal. When so many films are seen that abide by this pattern a film such as The Brown Bunny, which uses an almost entirely different cinematic language, sticks out like a sore thumb.
We view the actions of the main character without being given any indication of his internal thoughts, and even the films final revelation does not adequately explain his reasons for behaving in such a way. Such a view of character is far closer to reality than any Hollywood film, in which characters motivations are always apparent to us. What is more important than his intentions is the way he feels, which, and this is a debatable point, is conveyed to the audience in a manner that is slow, but artistically satisfying. The music, editing, choice of shots, dialogue and performances in the film let this feeling wash over us at its own pace. But only if we are open to it.
The acting is also very different from Hollywood fare, as performers do not indicate their emotions in a transparent way. They behave in a style that is synchronous with that of the editing and action of the film, rather than attempting to behave in a realistic manner, or what is perceived as being realistic from expectations given to us by other films. It's a way of acting that is closer to the work of Robert Bresson than any current filmmaker. Another reason many have rejected the film as nonsense.
It's easy to see the notorious final scene of the film as exploitative, especially if you haven't found yourself involved in the film up to this point. But Gallo is not out to exploit, in fact he has, as an artist who is responsible for virtually every aspect of the film, exposed to us a part of his psyche that very few filmmakers would dare show.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Orson Welles's Macbeth
Here's a very nice introduction to Orson Welles's adaptation of Macbeth, from 1948.
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