So, Alexandra was taking a look at my blog and making fun of my delightful choices in films. She said that all I watch is either English or Irish or Scottish or Welsh. Well, that's obviously not true, since I have a Swedish film AND an Italian film here. But I guess, yeah, that most of my films are made in a spot of the British Isles. So, I decided to prove her wrong. I checked in my queue to find a non-English/Irish film to watch. That's how I ended up watching the delightful English film I Capture the Castle.
I know, I know. But I don't choose the films, the films choose me. That film had been in my top picks for weeks and I was just there, looking at me, begging to be watched. So I gave it an opportunity. I think it worked.
It is one of those British films. Like Atonement. You know, with the cute English girl who has a writer inside her and writes about her funny family and meddles with their lives. It is Atonement. But the girl is somehow more likeable. Also, there isn't that war ambience, that darkness covering the whole film, that structure, that post-modernism. It is simply the tale of a rite of passage of an English teenager. It is delightful, though. Nothing out of the extraordinary. But enjoyable and English, very English.
domingo, 30 de enero de 2011
sábado, 29 de enero de 2011
Vanity Fair
Excuse me? Come again? Excuse me? Seriously? Was Mira Nair, the same Mira Nair that made the Monsoon Wedding really serious when she made... that?
I was high up in the sky after the success with The French Lieutenant's Woman so another film based on a book about British people running up and down in horses seemed just about right. That is, Vanity Fair, the 2003 version with Reese Witherspoon. So mistaken, I'm afraid!
Well, the point is that there is no point at all. The film has no structure, no smoothness, no anything. I haven't read the book, so maybe, when you compare the film to the book all of it makes sense. But I don't think so. I have the feeling that the characters are just placed in front of the camera so the actors can look pretty in period costumes. Otherwise, why is George Osbourne given so much importance? Why the long camera shots? Why the silence when he appears? I know that Jonathan Rhys Meyers is absoulutely beautiful, and Irish, to top things up but, is that enough reason to make everything stop when his character is around? Even if the character is not that important and all that jingling around just tricks the viewer? I read a review by a viewer that said that she was so happy with that film because she loves the Tudors and Rhys Meyers looks so hot in Vanity Fair. Is really what all this is about?
I kept watching the film until the end, thinking, oh sure, that the film was just going to improve now. Now is the moment. Wait, now. But no, it just kept as confusing and out of focus until the end. Right until the end, when these Britons went into an Indian village in an elephant and I saw the Monsoon Wedding again in front of me. Of course. The whole film wasn't about getting money with all the stars, or about the hot actors, or about the pretty dresses, or about Legally Blonde (oh, how I love Reese in Legally Blonde), it was about using an elephant again. What a fun time. The Indian landscape and the dancing natives from an elephant. Thank the construct we have an umbrella.
I was high up in the sky after the success with The French Lieutenant's Woman so another film based on a book about British people running up and down in horses seemed just about right. That is, Vanity Fair, the 2003 version with Reese Witherspoon. So mistaken, I'm afraid!
Well, the point is that there is no point at all. The film has no structure, no smoothness, no anything. I haven't read the book, so maybe, when you compare the film to the book all of it makes sense. But I don't think so. I have the feeling that the characters are just placed in front of the camera so the actors can look pretty in period costumes. Otherwise, why is George Osbourne given so much importance? Why the long camera shots? Why the silence when he appears? I know that Jonathan Rhys Meyers is absoulutely beautiful, and Irish, to top things up but, is that enough reason to make everything stop when his character is around? Even if the character is not that important and all that jingling around just tricks the viewer? I read a review by a viewer that said that she was so happy with that film because she loves the Tudors and Rhys Meyers looks so hot in Vanity Fair. Is really what all this is about?
I kept watching the film until the end, thinking, oh sure, that the film was just going to improve now. Now is the moment. Wait, now. But no, it just kept as confusing and out of focus until the end. Right until the end, when these Britons went into an Indian village in an elephant and I saw the Monsoon Wedding again in front of me. Of course. The whole film wasn't about getting money with all the stars, or about the hot actors, or about the pretty dresses, or about Legally Blonde (oh, how I love Reese in Legally Blonde), it was about using an elephant again. What a fun time. The Indian landscape and the dancing natives from an elephant. Thank the construct we have an umbrella.
The French Lieutenant's Woman
Hullo again, and welcome to an amazing film. Tonight: The French Lieutenant's Woman.
I had read the book, long ago, during those amazing holidays in my beloved Ireland, in which I just read books and drink tea. And, I'll tell you something, it is not only a helluva great book, it is also extremely difficult to put into images. Its plot is simple enough. There is this Victorian silly man that falls in love with the "whore" of the town. Supposedly, she had sex once before. With a Frenchman. A French sailor. And he left! I know, hardcore stuff. Well, that's not all. The book is, really, a reflection on the art of writing, the work of the author, an insight into the Victorian age, the role of the writer, of the reader. This novel is really a delusion. And the question is, how do you make a delusion into a movie and do it successfully?
Well, Karel Reisz has the answer. The film is believable from the beginning. One of the first scenes, when the viewer doesn't really know what's going on yet, and everything is kind of blurry, is, I think, key to set the mood for the whole film. The main character in the film-within-the-film, Charles, is proposing in the Greenhouse to Ernestina. Everything is perfectly staged, as it is costumary in this period and situation. In the background, walking in the garden, you can see members of the film crew. WOW.
That is exactly what the book is about, and that is exactly what the film is about. The communication between worlds (characters/narrator/reader or film/real life/viewer) that shouldn't communicate. The reflection on the work, the recursivity of the narrative and cinematic language. In one word, Post-modernism. The film even adds an extra element by playing with the actors and with the characters, having two sets of plots happening at the same time and interacting, at the same time, with the book.
That was intense. And very very good. And full of mirrors reflecting their images in the Callejón del Gato.
I had read the book, long ago, during those amazing holidays in my beloved Ireland, in which I just read books and drink tea. And, I'll tell you something, it is not only a helluva great book, it is also extremely difficult to put into images. Its plot is simple enough. There is this Victorian silly man that falls in love with the "whore" of the town. Supposedly, she had sex once before. With a Frenchman. A French sailor. And he left! I know, hardcore stuff. Well, that's not all. The book is, really, a reflection on the art of writing, the work of the author, an insight into the Victorian age, the role of the writer, of the reader. This novel is really a delusion. And the question is, how do you make a delusion into a movie and do it successfully?
Well, Karel Reisz has the answer. The film is believable from the beginning. One of the first scenes, when the viewer doesn't really know what's going on yet, and everything is kind of blurry, is, I think, key to set the mood for the whole film. The main character in the film-within-the-film, Charles, is proposing in the Greenhouse to Ernestina. Everything is perfectly staged, as it is costumary in this period and situation. In the background, walking in the garden, you can see members of the film crew. WOW.
That is exactly what the book is about, and that is exactly what the film is about. The communication between worlds (characters/narrator/reader or film/real life/viewer) that shouldn't communicate. The reflection on the work, the recursivity of the narrative and cinematic language. In one word, Post-modernism. The film even adds an extra element by playing with the actors and with the characters, having two sets of plots happening at the same time and interacting, at the same time, with the book.
That was intense. And very very good. And full of mirrors reflecting their images in the Callejón del Gato.
viernes, 28 de enero de 2011
Millennium Trilogy
Poor Lisbeth. I don't know if it's her, her circumstances or Sweden, which just got into this downward spiral of horror but, oh boy, poor girl.
I watched the whole trilogy, I guess you could call it like that, yes, why not, trilogy, with Alexandra, almost by accident. The third film was on the Normal Theater and we were going to go watch it (not!) so I had to start from the beginning.
The first film, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo was great. So much fun. It was one of those in which you have to have your eyes set on the screen the whole time, if you don't want to miss anything. And if you want to understand something, since it was in Swedish. Swedish is great. Täck, täck, täck. But yes. So, if someone doesn't know, it's about this journalist that has to solve this really old crime while waiting to go to jail. He is kind of lost, but luckily for him, his own personal hacker, aka Lisbeth Salander, helps him with the clues.
This first film is quite violent, but not so much that will disgust you. It is sofa gripping, eye widening and jaw dropping. It was so much fun. So much fun in a Swedish and violent way. I especially liked it, because I thought that it was going to be one of those films that have a cliffhanger at the end and you have to wait a year and a half for the continuation. But no. It has a beginning, a middle and an end. And that should be the end.
I was very excited to see the second film, The Girl who Played with Fire. The first one was very good and, although I had heard that the second one was somewhat lower in its quality, sure, it couldn't be that bad. I was so excited to unravel another mystery..! I have to say, however, that, I don't know about the mystery, but unraveling, well, that something else. I was crocheting my way through a gorgeous hat the whole time the film was on. In a way, I'm happy that I watched it, since I could really work on the hat and I finished it within a couple of hours. I think that the fact that I'm talking about my hat says something about my idea of the film, doesn't it?
The second film gets very confusing. It's all about names and politicians and prostitutes and Lisbeth and her friend and Bloomkvist. I don't know. It's all a haze in my memory. I know that you get to know Lisbeth's past. And that's importan. And that the ending is kind of... unsettling. Like a very strange CSI episode. One of those, if you know what I mean.
Anyway, despite the contradictory feelings that the second film produced in me, I also watched the third one. Just in case, I had my crocheting hook at hand. I am afraid, I had to use it. Alexandra was knitting, too. Caroline's scarf. It's purple.
So the third film, The Girl who Kicked the Hornest's Nest, is even more confusing that the second one, with more names, more politicians, more violence. The whole film is already dilluted in my head. And for a trilogy, the ending is not an end at all. I heard that there is a fourth book somewhere, by the same author. I don't know if maybe that is why the ending doesn't end or it's just that crappy. Or genius.
Sorry, I wish I were of more help. I kind of want to see the English versions. See if they copied the Swedish films or they followed the maze of the book or they did something good. Something watchable. Something that doesn't require knitting needles.
I watched the whole trilogy, I guess you could call it like that, yes, why not, trilogy, with Alexandra, almost by accident. The third film was on the Normal Theater and we were going to go watch it (not!) so I had to start from the beginning.
The first film, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo was great. So much fun. It was one of those in which you have to have your eyes set on the screen the whole time, if you don't want to miss anything. And if you want to understand something, since it was in Swedish. Swedish is great. Täck, täck, täck. But yes. So, if someone doesn't know, it's about this journalist that has to solve this really old crime while waiting to go to jail. He is kind of lost, but luckily for him, his own personal hacker, aka Lisbeth Salander, helps him with the clues.
This first film is quite violent, but not so much that will disgust you. It is sofa gripping, eye widening and jaw dropping. It was so much fun. So much fun in a Swedish and violent way. I especially liked it, because I thought that it was going to be one of those films that have a cliffhanger at the end and you have to wait a year and a half for the continuation. But no. It has a beginning, a middle and an end. And that should be the end.
I was very excited to see the second film, The Girl who Played with Fire. The first one was very good and, although I had heard that the second one was somewhat lower in its quality, sure, it couldn't be that bad. I was so excited to unravel another mystery..! I have to say, however, that, I don't know about the mystery, but unraveling, well, that something else. I was crocheting my way through a gorgeous hat the whole time the film was on. In a way, I'm happy that I watched it, since I could really work on the hat and I finished it within a couple of hours. I think that the fact that I'm talking about my hat says something about my idea of the film, doesn't it?
The second film gets very confusing. It's all about names and politicians and prostitutes and Lisbeth and her friend and Bloomkvist. I don't know. It's all a haze in my memory. I know that you get to know Lisbeth's past. And that's importan. And that the ending is kind of... unsettling. Like a very strange CSI episode. One of those, if you know what I mean.
Anyway, despite the contradictory feelings that the second film produced in me, I also watched the third one. Just in case, I had my crocheting hook at hand. I am afraid, I had to use it. Alexandra was knitting, too. Caroline's scarf. It's purple.
So the third film, The Girl who Kicked the Hornest's Nest, is even more confusing that the second one, with more names, more politicians, more violence. The whole film is already dilluted in my head. And for a trilogy, the ending is not an end at all. I heard that there is a fourth book somewhere, by the same author. I don't know if maybe that is why the ending doesn't end or it's just that crappy. Or genius.
Sorry, I wish I were of more help. I kind of want to see the English versions. See if they copied the Swedish films or they followed the maze of the book or they did something good. Something watchable. Something that doesn't require knitting needles.
domingo, 23 de enero de 2011
8 1/2
Fellini and I just made our acquaintance. We are very please with each other. It was about time too, since we had delayed this delightful encounter for a couple of years already. Let me explain.
Who doesn't know who Fellini is? No, seriously, who? He is not the kind of director whose films are on Telecinco at 22.00. Just in case, you should check him out. Just for the craic. I was (and still am, for that matter) one of those people. Well, I recognised the name, of course, and I knew he was an Italian director. One of those that made black and white films. But I had never seen one of his films before, nor I knew which films he made, nor I knew what to expect of them. So, in this complete ignorance, I could be found in a modernist apartment in the Eixample of Barcelona around 3 years ago. Paula and I were talking about a guy we both knew. He had a tatoo in his back, it just said 8 1/2 and, apparently, that was a reference to a Fellini film. She had heard it was a very good one and couldn't wait to watch it. I thought it was a horror movie and refused.
Why, oh why did I think it was a horror movie? Maybe because the boy whose tatoo started that conversation liked Haneke's Funny Games? Maybe because such a title is misleading and makes you think of all the sequels and prequels of Scream? Maybe because it wasn't my time yet to appreciate this film? Who knows! Nevertheless, the title, and Paula's assumption that it was a very good film were filed into the trivia box in my brain.
Let's fastforward two years and lets position ourselves in last year, in a household in West Donegal. A couple goes to see Nine, Rob Marshall's musical based on 8 1/2. By that moment, I knew the synopsis (which doesn't uncover much) of both Nine and 8 1/2 and that it may not be, after all, a horror movie. That same couple from three lines ago comes back from the cinema. They are absolutely in love with Nine and they think I would have (mark my words) LOVE it. It was a sign that I needed to see either the copy (9) or the original (eight and a half). However, that sign was not strong enough, since I decided to ignore it.
Yesterday is when the stars, or whoever decides these things, thought that my time had come to meet Fellini. Alexandra couldn't believe that I had never seen a film by Fellini. She had just watched I Vitelloni and thought that Fellini was great. That was it, it was my time to meet Fellini. And Netflix was going to arrange the meeting. I checked in my queue, and yes, there they were, both La Dolce Vita and 8 1/2. Imdb decided for me. 8 1/2 had one tenth of a point more than La Dolce Vita. Ahead of me, 2 wonderful hours and 18 minutes.
Alexandra was right. I can't believe I hadn't seen it before. It is so good that it's difficult to swallow. I don't even know where to start. Maybe I could start talking about the different layers, the metafilm, the discursive nature of the narrative. Or about the choice of the music. Or about the actors, especially Marcello, oh, Marcello. Or about the depth of the inquiry into the psyche of Guido. Or about Carla, dear Carla. Instead, I'll just say one thing. This film feels very modern. All of those things that I've mentioned make it feel, just that, modern. It feels like that film was the beginning of all modern cinema, that all films need to acknowledge their essence to 8 1/2. It feels like I have already seen all those scenes, but elsewhere. In another time and another world. 8 1/2 feels like it is at the same time the beginning of modern cinema but also its final product. It is so good that it is scary.
Maybe it is a horror movie after all.
Who doesn't know who Fellini is? No, seriously, who? He is not the kind of director whose films are on Telecinco at 22.00. Just in case, you should check him out. Just for the craic. I was (and still am, for that matter) one of those people. Well, I recognised the name, of course, and I knew he was an Italian director. One of those that made black and white films. But I had never seen one of his films before, nor I knew which films he made, nor I knew what to expect of them. So, in this complete ignorance, I could be found in a modernist apartment in the Eixample of Barcelona around 3 years ago. Paula and I were talking about a guy we both knew. He had a tatoo in his back, it just said 8 1/2 and, apparently, that was a reference to a Fellini film. She had heard it was a very good one and couldn't wait to watch it. I thought it was a horror movie and refused.
Why, oh why did I think it was a horror movie? Maybe because the boy whose tatoo started that conversation liked Haneke's Funny Games? Maybe because such a title is misleading and makes you think of all the sequels and prequels of Scream? Maybe because it wasn't my time yet to appreciate this film? Who knows! Nevertheless, the title, and Paula's assumption that it was a very good film were filed into the trivia box in my brain.
Let's fastforward two years and lets position ourselves in last year, in a household in West Donegal. A couple goes to see Nine, Rob Marshall's musical based on 8 1/2. By that moment, I knew the synopsis (which doesn't uncover much) of both Nine and 8 1/2 and that it may not be, after all, a horror movie. That same couple from three lines ago comes back from the cinema. They are absolutely in love with Nine and they think I would have (mark my words) LOVE it. It was a sign that I needed to see either the copy (9) or the original (eight and a half). However, that sign was not strong enough, since I decided to ignore it.
Yesterday is when the stars, or whoever decides these things, thought that my time had come to meet Fellini. Alexandra couldn't believe that I had never seen a film by Fellini. She had just watched I Vitelloni and thought that Fellini was great. That was it, it was my time to meet Fellini. And Netflix was going to arrange the meeting. I checked in my queue, and yes, there they were, both La Dolce Vita and 8 1/2. Imdb decided for me. 8 1/2 had one tenth of a point more than La Dolce Vita. Ahead of me, 2 wonderful hours and 18 minutes.
Alexandra was right. I can't believe I hadn't seen it before. It is so good that it's difficult to swallow. I don't even know where to start. Maybe I could start talking about the different layers, the metafilm, the discursive nature of the narrative. Or about the choice of the music. Or about the actors, especially Marcello, oh, Marcello. Or about the depth of the inquiry into the psyche of Guido. Or about Carla, dear Carla. Instead, I'll just say one thing. This film feels very modern. All of those things that I've mentioned make it feel, just that, modern. It feels like that film was the beginning of all modern cinema, that all films need to acknowledge their essence to 8 1/2. It feels like I have already seen all those scenes, but elsewhere. In another time and another world. 8 1/2 feels like it is at the same time the beginning of modern cinema but also its final product. It is so good that it is scary.
Maybe it is a horror movie after all.
sábado, 22 de enero de 2011
Chariots of Fire
Before this weekend I was very ambitious about my film list for these couple of days. However, crocheting got in my way. And since I am (also) new at crocheting and I penelope my way through hats and scarves, I decided that at least one of the films in my list had to go down. That film had to be Chariots of Fire. Everything in the last month was leading me to it. Let me explain.
Philip got me for Christmas the autobiography of Stephen Fry: The Fry Chronicles (Oh, Fry, how I love thee.) While he was studying at Cambridge, he participated as an extra in a low budget film about runners, namely, Chariots of Fire. I will not be ashamed to say that one of the reasons I really wanted to see this film was to look for dear Stephen in the background. I found him. He is singing a song: "He is an Englishman." Funnily enough, Fry can't sing. At all. Funnily enough, both him and the main character are Jewish. And more English than the English. Summing up, any film with either Stephen Fry or, for that matter, Colin Firth is worth my attention. And that's where the second reason comes in.
Colin Firth is the love of my life, and The King's Speech is a masterpiece. Everybody knows that. And since it is such an amazing piece of cinematic art, all the newspapers rave about it all the time. Especially the Guardian, as seen in this article about two British films that look back in the hope of escaping today's reality. Those two films are, of course, The King's Speech and Chariots of Fire. Enough was enough. The time had come. I had to see Chariots of Fire.
My impressions about the film: contradictory. First, all the actors look the same. Same hair colour, same hair style, same posh RP. It took me an hour to grasp that there were actually 4 main characters and not just two, with one of them having multiple personalities. Second, during that same hour in which I tried to jot down the characters, I tried to find an answer to the questions: Whats the point of this film? There wasn't a plot that I could follow, there weren't difficulties, nor major conflicts. Then, the Olympic Games came along. I'll just say that the film is about superation, and about all that hard work that has to show in a couple of seconds, and above all, about being a true Englishman.
I gave it three stars on Netflix. I am blaming them, too, for not having subtitles. I will need to come back to it. I need to find dear Stephen in more places. I know he is there.
Introduction to Netflix
Hello and welcome to my newest blog. How long will it last? Probably until have access to Netflix, that wonderful idea that is only available on America. Basically, you pay 8 dollars a month and get thousands of films, documentaries and TV series on streaming. I've only had it for two weeks. I am already obsessed with it. So far, so good.
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