In the past several weeks I've been doing a lot of catching up on movies I've missed in the past 15 years or so. While in university and after, I hadn't the time or inclination to sit down in front of the teevee* and spend a couple of hours watching a story be told. All of the snow here in the northeast, as well as one of the worst big-four network line-ups in a long time (the greatest void coming with the conclusion of ABC's "LOST" last May) conspired into the design to finally see what some of these films had going for them.
At its most egregious, my movie ignorance included the Star Wars prequels released from 2001 to 2005. Admittedly, I had seen "Episode I: The Phantom Menace" once a few years after it came out. I remember dozing through it at a cousin's home shortly after a 6-hour drive out to WNY one summer. I had grown up with Star Wars. Like an old friend one hasn't seen in a while, the changes wrought in the Special Edition by George Lucas were a little jolting at first. Like a lot of people, I'm not sure Lucas can ever be forgiven for giving the world Jar Jar Binks, Hayden Christensen, or the 5th-grade dialogue of the screenplay. But then, I relaxed back into the story and to be honest, I was always more tuned to the series' visual qualities. At the end of "Episode III: Revenge of the Sith" my Star Wars journey was essentially complete, the story known, the mystery solved. The prequels generally instilled an overarching sadness that hadn't been there for the original movies. The breakdown of Padmé's spirit by Anakin's vaulting ambition was something hinted at in the originals but portrayed with a larger degree of pathos by Natalie Portman. Visually, it was weird going from the modern look and CGI to the '70s hairstyles of Han, Lei and Luke (I'm not sure if Chewbacca can be described as having '70s hair). The series is finally scheduled to be released in the fall of this year on Blu-ray. Unlike all of Lucas' previous incremental releases designed to draw as much money from the franchise as he could from its devotees, I may be tempted to pick it up for Christmas.
● On its heels, I started watching many of the films mentioned in the Oscar discussion. "Black Swan" again featured Ms. Portman in an equally saddening meltdown, this time of her own accord. It's artistically dreary. The mise-en-scene throughout tattoos black and white into your soul --- especially the decor of stage director Thomas' (Vincent Cassel) apartment --- in the opposite way of how "Amelie" revived the screen immediately post-9/11 with super-enhanced reds, greens and blues. In director Darren Aronofsky's world, everything takes on a shade of black or white. The world is a polarity of perfection in which the perfect black swan seductress also must be the perfect white swan innocent, raising the specter of the academic Madonna/whore feminist argument. We live in a world that prizes beauty and purity, but also paradoxically craves trashiness and unbridled lust. These things are mutually exclusive, and yet, our culture simultaneously demands them both from women. In Aronofsky's conceit, this demand to be two opposites in one body throws Nina into schizophrenic episodes of real and imagined self-destruction.
Another "Black Swan" theme is that anything that is not 100 percent must be thrown away. For instance, the cake that Barbara Hershey's character brings home is beautiful and huge (really, they make smaller cakes!), but when her ballerina daughter says she can't have any because of her upcoming role, the mother threatens to throw this beautiful creation in the garbage. Also, the older dancer, Beth (Winona Ryder), is no longer young and innocent, and is retired by Thomas, then apparently throws herself in front of a car. This is a thoughtful criticism of our times, when people have become less complex creatures the more society seems to demand that its inhabitants be totally engrossed in this or that world. Anything less than total dedication to that purpose is failure. Gold medal or bust! I suppose this has arisen out of the need for identify with something as a way to stand out from 6 billion other souls. But as a cost of this decrease in complexity and well-roundedness, people have become more shallow as their descriptors and interests are honed like a piece of broken mirror on a dressing room floor.
● At almost the opposite spectrum in character complexity, though, the Coen brothers' "True Grit" remake won me over. The only way Jeff Bridges does not win the Oscar for Best Actor is if the Academy is loathe to present it to him two years in a row. The Coens' movies are characteristically dark, but take on a Shakespearean Olde English kind of quality from their precise scripts and demand for careful annunciation (think George Clooney's turn in "O Brother Where Art Thou"). I am not denigrating this tactic, where the characters can seem somewhat wooden. Many of the Bard of Avon's characters have this same wooden quality yet are among the best in all literature. And yet, Bridges, as Reuben "Rooster" Cogburn, delivers these clunky lines with a natural ease in a hardened western accent. I am less convinced that Hailey Steinfeld's performance as a girl seeking revenge for her father's murder was of her own ability than it derived from the Coen machinations, but I greatly admire the gusto she puts into the film and the energetic and wise-beyond-her-years spirit she imbues Mattie with. I'm not normally a fan of Matt Damon, but he turned in a great character piece as a by-the-book Texas Ranger LaBoeuf (which they pronounce as "LaBeef"). I didn't pay much attention during the opening credits and it took me several minutes to realize it was indeed Ben Affleck's other half.
One note that I wanted to include was the theme of snakes. I've never read the book this was adapted from, which was written by Charles Portis, but they represent a bit of propriety. In many works, after an audience-friendly character kills someone unlawfully, even someone who we feel deserves it, there's a moralistic reaction --- whether it's the character throwing up, facing charges and being cleared, or by some other method where peril must be faced and judgment rendered. In "True Grit," after Mattie kills Tom Chaney (played by Coen-favorite Josh Brolin), she falls down a pit, where she is bitten by a snake and faces death. Through the movie, we see Rooster Cogburn lay down a circle of rope around himself when he sleeps by a campfire that ostensibly keeps snakes from coming close. Rooster is immune to the moral reckoning of the snakes because his actions --- as we're told, he has a history of killing his quarry in questionable circumstances of self-defense --- are done behind the star of a U.S. Marshal.
In the concluding section of the movie, we find out that Mattie lost the snake-bitten arm. Mattie was only saved by Rooster's quick treatment and breaking the limits of a horse Mattie had impulsively bought when she was negotiating a refund of her father's original dealing with the broker. One sees that Rooster has come to admire this girl's own true grit. That is why he didn't ever collect the $50 remainder owed to him.
I've watched quite a few more titles but, again, I don't have the time or inclination to write about them at the moment. I will try to get in reviews of all 10 Best Pictures nominees before the Oscars air on 27 February.
* I know it's not AP Style or anything, but in private writing, I spell it like this in homage to "Willy Wonka..."
(Images are © of their respective films. I have used official movie posters or publicity stills used elsewhere in the mass media)
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