Author Archive for jameseric

The Fall

For the majority of 2008, I had been waiting to see a movie that makes me lose my shit. A couple of them came very close. I can fully acknowledge my absolute adoration for Michel Gondry’s 3rd masterpiece in a row, Be Kind Rewind, as well as David Gordon Green’s 2nd best film to date, Snow Angels. But there is serious bias there since those are two of my favorite directors working today and I expected their films to rock my socks off. Although I certainly enjoyed watching both Iron Man and Indiana Jones, neither will be re-watched or deconstructed upon further viewing. They sat well with me, I digested them just fine, but I do have a preference to the types of films that I call ‘favorites.’ I have no qualms with leaving my IQ at the door, and relishing in good old-fashioned summer escapist entertainment like the two titles mentioned previous, but I also wasn’t thinking about them after I walked out of the theater other than acknowledging the impeccable chase sequences and the otherworldly charisma of Robert Downey, Jr. This year’s been tough on me, or I’ve been tough on it when it comes to my 2nd love, the cinema.

So out of the blue comes this movie called The Fall. Now, once again, I don’t expect most peeps to get behind me on this one and declare it one of the year’s best films the way I am. It’s a pretentious arthouse film that doesn’t have peppy one-liners or CGI monkeys helping Shia LeBouf get that crystal skull. It’s flawed for certain, but no film this year intoxicated me and left me breathless the way this one did. It’s more of a visual experience rather than an emotional one, but that’s the beauty of watching movies. Directors like Cronenberg and Tarantino can hit on all levels, but more often than not, there are individual facets of a film that move me so much, that I forgive the glaring flaws. I am incredibly moved by the language of David Mamet movies, despite the fact that the acting is stilted (why does he keep casting his wife?) and the direction is unspectacular (the final scenes of Redbelt were horribly constructed). Sometimes I’ll see a movie that is so fiercely manipulative, but because the acting is stellar, I love it nonetheless. The Fall falls under a category where I fell in love with its imagination, rather than the story or screenplay.

Essentially, it plays almost like a twisted version of The Princess Bride crossbred with Pan’s Labyrinth, despite not quite being as memorable as either of those influences. The thing about The Fall is the backstory. The director, Tarsem, spent eight years making this thing, and filmed on location in obscured places all across the world. Also, he allowed the majority of the scenes featuring a child actor, to be improvised, allowing the story to unfold through the child’s perspective. (Robert Rodriguez failed miserably at doing something similar by letting his kids help compose a screenplay with The Adventures of Shark Boy and Lava-Girl). The movie’s story revolves around Roy Walker, a bedridden stuntman in a hospital who befriends a fellow patient, a portly and curious young girl called Alexandria. To occupy the time and to manipulate her to his own advantage, he weaves a vivid, fantastical story of exotic lands. He conjures up a group of five heroes: an Indian, an ex-slave, an explosive expert, a masked bandit and, in a bit of revisionist history, famed evolutionary biologist Charles Darwin. They unite to fight a common enemy, Governor Odious, who has banished them all and caused them serious strife. Interspersed with the tale he tells, is the reality both of them face. Her traumatic childhood featuring a farmer father who dealt with opposing forces, and Roy’s own enemy, the man who took his true love away from him.

But there’s something that snuck up on me towards the end of this movie. I became emotionally involved in the characters, despite the characters themselves not becoming fully fleshed out. The story world and the real world don’t always interconnect flawlessly, but that’s due to the fact that neither of its creators are masterful at constructing a consistent narrative. Plus one of them is doped up most of the time on morphine. There’s a scene towards the end where Roy divulges to Alexandria, his reasons for befriending her, that tore me up inside. I think it was just the fact that both characters wanted to escape inside the fantasy they’d made together in storyland so badly, rather than deal with their pasts and the harsh reality they both continue to face. The ending itself mirrors Be Kind Rewind in a collective appreciation of artistic expression itself.

Roger Ebert calls The Fall, “a celebration of the imagination” and I couldn’t agree more. For a guy who loves equally the work of David Lynch and Terry Gilliam, this struck a happy balance between the worlds that those directors create in a way that is harmonious. If you take away the story, then at the very least, you have frame after frame of astonishing cinematography to the point where you go ‘how the fuck did they do that?’ Tarsem has made one other film, in which style suffocated the substance to the point where it became unbearable to watch. It was essentially The Silence of The Lambs meets a bad Freddy Krueger sequel, and that’s not a complement. The Cell, featured J-Lo running around in loose clothes as a psychiatrist (!) that infiltrates people’s dreams to help them deal with schizophrenia and/or post-traumatic stress. Low and behold, she must enter the mind of a serial killer (there’s the tagline right there). For those who have not seen the movie, Dreamscape, it’s safe to say that I’m shocked that Tarsem didn’t get sued for copyright infringement. Dreamscape, being the better film, albeit very dated. But let’s not dismiss Tarsem on the basis of his debut, because his follow-up is anything but a sophomore slump. It’s one of those rare experiences that makes the outside world seem new and fresh again, not unlike the time I walked out of seeing Terrence Malick’s The New World a couple years back. I know most folks won’t feel the same way, saying that once again, Tarsem is a director of style and very little substance. Personally, I think he’s made an incredible step-up from making a bland and repulsive serial killer movie to The Fall, which is uplifting, gorgeous, and makes you fall in love with the moviegoing experience all over again. What can you say about a movie that features swimming elephants, an island of pristine white sand in the middle of a sparkling ocean and a massive labyrinth of gold? This is the Land of Oz told through the eyes of a visionary, and it’s a little bit more accessible than David Lynch’s take on the fairytale (with his 2nd best film, Wild at Heart). Time will tell if Tarsem is going to shake the foundations with audiences, and I’m almost certain The Fall will not be a mainstream success, but that shouldn’t deter you from running to the nearest multiplex to seek it out. Who needs hallucinogens when there are movies like these? Did I mention that it’s produced / presented by David Fincher and Spike Jonze?

semisonic - gone to the movies

Redbear. - Hollywood Taoism

I first heard Patrick “Redbear.” while playing the all-too popular MySpace music friends six degrees of separation game. When I saw this guy Patrick wearing an Evil Dead t-shirt, listed as a friend of the band Real Live Tigers, I had to drop in and see what Redbear was all about. I clicked on his MySpace, where my ears were greeted with a song that instantly made my day. “My Ghost Love Jam” was impeccably described on YouTue as a “ragtime version of Antony and The Johnsons.” I of course added him as a friend and proclaimed my love for his songs almost immediately. Cut to my first house show experience playing live in Champaign in which I overheard Issac “Blanketarms” and PJ “Super Famicom” also proclaiming their love for the bear. It was clear by then that upon returning from my spring break tour, that I had to meet up with the red-haired mammal in person. When I did, I instantly could see why he had a following, and as a result of his personable personality and enthusiasm for the house show scene, managed to formulate a music community with friends that magically congealed in an affluent suburban area not too far from Brookfield Zoo. Since then, it’s safe to say that I’m more excited about seeing DIY bands perform in garages, basements, and living room rather than the Metro. Experiencing shows at both The Glass Haus and The Foster Home is exactly the type of communal bliss that can reaffirm your faith in the arts.

On record, a lot of the DIY musicians put out as much material as possible, which I encourage since I actively do the same. But can one achieve a track-for-track masterpiece? Many have come close, especially since Real Live Tigers put out the best record of last year. Redbear’s first record Love Songs For A Nihilist ended with a couple of improvised goofy ditties that merely tickled the funny bone instead of the heart, unlike just about every song that preceded it. Patrick has possibly grown tiresome of playing his “older hits” because he’s evolved beyond singing about Hootie and toast. I hope he doesn’t ever completely dismiss favorites such as “Fiber!” and “Brains!” But there’s a sense that he’s steering away from his roots and letting grass grow, reaching new heights in the process. His follow-up, Hollywood Taoism, is anything but a sophomore slump, which was expected even before listening to it. Hearing the songs live were always a treat, and unlike his debut, it isn’t just primarily a guy playing his nylon-stringed guitar. There are breathtaking arrangements here. It’s hard to decipher exactly what the intent is by including a few instrumental interludes here and there, other than a tip-of-the-hat to the ear-piercing noise of Einsturzende Neubauten as well as keeping in check with the Phil Elvrum influence. The sweeping harmonies and kitchen-sink-knock-on-wood rhythms also climb to the top of Mount Eerie, but never come across as derivative. The songs here are draped in buzzy fuzz, choir-like vocal layering, and the click-clack clatter of tribal beats. The results are otherworldly despite the lyrics touching base with the mysticism of nature and the human body’s uncertain place in an ever-changing universe. There are vivid descriptions of seasons changing and keeping an open heart behind a world that seems to be closing in on us.

Standouts include show staples that receive a massive makeover due to unexpectedly sublime instrumentation. There is no denying how infectious a lot of these songs are. “Walks Among Us, Life On A Map,” and “Don’t Haunt Me Yet,” are arguably his strongest tracks to date. The latter benefits from a glued-to-your-skull chorus refrain, “Now tell me something / how do I get to be like you?” That kind of simplicity was served well on the first album, but there’s also complexity and ideas behind a song like “Forest of Legs II,” which connects mind, body, and spirit in anything but a New Agey milieu. One of my favorite moments is featured in “Forest” with the line “Do you feel the tension between the trees and the moon?” Another gorgeous number is the achingly personal “Cook County,” which is one of the more tear-jerking moments as well as the most relatable.

The way the record ends is an acquired taste to the least. Does the title track add or subtract from the listening experience? For those who don’t require an easy “comedown” to put your mind at ease for closure or you enjoy the sound of rhinos fucking around with an effect processor, then you’ll be pleasantly surprised by the conclusion of the record. I’m more of a fan of traditional pop songs so I would’ve been doused with satisfaction had it ended with “Circular,” but this is a tiny, forgivable quibble. I simply love everything else about Hollywood Taoism. Nobody is making music like Redbear is right now. I had gotten to the point where I was unsure if originality was even attainable until I listened to this and the new Portishead album back to back on a 5-hour drive in stormy weather. Both are interchangeable for my favorite records of 2008 so far. Neither are chock-full of verse/chorus/verse aesthetics, but instead, choose to defy and challenge the listener to think and feel on such a visceral and cerebral level that you almost have to check and see if you’re not living inside a dream (or a nightmare) that you never want to wake up from and are dying to analyze as it occurs. Hollywood Taoism is the perfect encapsulation of the mind of myth of Redbear. I had sensed from my first live encounter that there was something special about this kind of songwriting, and this 2nd effort is a step up from the last and definitive proof that Patrick is the real deal. And we’re all the better for baring witness to Redbear’s vivacious imagination and freakishly unique perspective of this chaotic, yet invitingly beautiful vision of the world we reside inside.


redbear. - cook county

Life Is Not A Movie… Or Maybe #1

03.01.08 - 03.08.08

Movies I have watched:

Trust
Bonnie and Clyde
Eyes Wide Shut
The Girl From Monday
Simple Men


Welcome to the first in a weekly feature, discussing random films I’ve uncovered through the glorious creation of Netflix’s new WATCH NOW feature with over 7,000 titles you can view instantly on your PC. For those who don’t know, I used to be a film critic for a few online sites and my college newspaper. Therefore I tend to use a lot of adjectives, and use them repeatedly. I’m not a writer in the grammatically correct sense and I apologize in advance. I write in a stream-of-consciousness style with very little editing (much like I do with my music). I usually watch 5 movies a week because I’m addicted to it, and I will choose to write in detail about one. Or I will write short paragraphs for each that I watch if I feel like I have something to say about everything I watched for the week. Part One is in regards to a film that I hadn’t seen in over ten years, and now officially declare, my “favorite.” Yeah, I know. All my friends are rolling their eyes thinking “That’s his favorite for THIS week.” (Sorry Collin). I just can’t deny the excitement I get when something completely washes over me. Maybe Fearless is my favorite movie after I watch it again. But for right now, it’s Trust, directed by Hal Hartley.

There probably wouldn’t be a Juno, Chasing Amy, or Rushmore if it weren’t for the indie darlings of the 90s like filmmakers Hal Hartley, Noah Baumbach, and Jim Jarmusch. Hartley’s masterpiece, Trust, exists as a unique little motion picture encased inside a universe which manages to be both ridiculous and real at the same time. An offbeat hodgepodge that mirrors the surreal absurdity of love which, often times, dominates the structure of actual life. The most remarkable thing about this movie, though, is its ability to fill a charmingly sweet love story in the center out of what seems to be utter emptiness. It’s not very often that I think of Buster Keaton and David Mamet while watching a movie. Trust lives inside its own volcanic-sized heart, and speaks a rhythm of dialogue that influences mean-spirited critiques of a show like “Gilmore Girls,” for being too unrealistic and overtly cute for cute’s sake.

The thing is. I adore movies with a hyper-sense of reality, in which characters exchange coincidences, and talk in a language drowned in non-sequitur and random life observations. Maybe I’m envious of the people who live in the movie who can think fast, talk fast, and attempt to deconstruct their issues within 90 minutes. But Trust is one of those films where there is no sound resolution, but offers a sense of hope and possibility that can only be manifested by the redemptive promise of love. Plus it helps that the characters are flawed, three-dimensional, and constantly conflicted about their actions. I’m drawn to the ones in Trust in a way that hadn’t happened since probably Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I had seen this movie a decade ago, and only watched it this past week thanks to the new Netflix “watch now” option in which you don’t even have to wait for the movie to come in the mail.

Trust revolves around a brilliant idiot (Matthew) played by indie-stalwart Martin Donavan, and a wise-beyond-her-years teenager (Maria) played by the late great beauty Adrienne Shelley. When Maria announces her pregnancy to her parents, her father drops dead on the floor. Her mother kicks her out of the house and her boyfriend dumps her, so Maria is left alone and homeless. This is when she meets the seemingly nihilistic Matthew. Matthew is an older, educated high school graduate with a great talent for fixing electronic devices, but he can’t hang on to a job because of his principled attitude towards quality and his lack of endurance to be surrounded by capitalist automatons. When Maria accepts Matthew’s offer to help her, they begin to form a relationship with each other in which both of them begin to change, despite their imperfections. It’s hard to define it as ‘romantic’ in the same way that you can’t categorize the relationship in Lost In Translation as turning into something that’s driven by lust. It’s more revolved around two lonely souls, meeting randomly, forming a bond, and learning how to be human in an inhumane society.

While watching Trust unfold, I sat on my bed in astonishment, re-realizing that it’s simply just perfect in the way it captures my sensibilities and predilection for quirk, exaggeration, and emotionally-inconsistent individuals who try to better themselves while repeating mistakes they can’t seem to shake. I’m aware of my strange, picky sense-of-humor but there are so many moments where I’m laughing too loud, and questioning myself in the process. For instance there’s a moment towards the end involving a confrontation between Matthew and his father, and after things settle down, Maria’s mom asks “Do you want something to eat?” It’s a complete throwaway transition to the next scene, but in Hal Hartley’s world, he manages to make that line so deadpan and skillfully executed that despite its awkwardness, it’s ridiculously charming.

There’s also some sublime social commentary mixed in throughout about sex, teenage pregnancy, TV, and family relations that is cringe-worthy and honest. But if there is a flaw (and it’s not a quibble for me), it’s that Hartley’s movies tell and speak, instead of show and visualize. He has a style thats all its own, but it’s mostly carried by the screenplay rather than the directing. Kevin Smith sort of carries that same torch, but aside from Chasing Amy and Clerks 2 as being his only four star masterworks, Smith too, became somewhat lost in his own world. Hartley has made some abysmal films. The Girl From Monday is his attempt as low-fi science fiction, and it’s a chore to sit through despite the presence of Sabrina Lloyd. Flirt is arthouse pretension at its most languid. The only other times Hartley came close to replicating the genius displayed in Trust were with the spy-comedy Amateur (what if Hal Hartley made the Bourne movies?), and the struggling-writer malaise of Henry Fool (what if Hal Hartley made Adaptation and decided to throw in an homage to the toilet scene in Dumb and Dumber?). I genuinely like the majority of Hartley’s admittedly pretentious films, but you have to prepare for a period of adjustment while watching them in the same way you have to with David Mamet. It’s sooo stylized that it can be off-putting, but the rewards are plentiful if you can stomach the quirkiness. Trust is one of those rare movies that makes you see yourself and the world outside in a whole different light. It makes you cautious and hopeful for the future (especially if you’re single - have a lot of quirks - and tend to think that no one will put up with you). I think in the end, there’s a line in the film that sums up the hyper-surreal soap opera world of these characters: “Family is like a gun, point in the wrong direction, and someone gets hurt.” I could go on and on about why Trust has become my favorite movie as of 2008, but I need to curb my hyperboles. Stay tuned for more “Life Is Not A Movie… Or Maybe” articles. I am mostly revisiting movies that I haven’t watched in years, to see if my viewpoint has changed since I’ve grown up a bit. Trust is the perfect starting point for this project, and reaffirms that I will remain a cinemaniac til I’m six feet underground.

A great scene from TRUST, and the movie can also be viewed in its entirety on YouTube! If this scene isn’t your cup of tea, then you probably won’t like the movie as a whole:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oQI10Njy7zI