Notes From L.A.

backlit by L.A.'s eternal sunshineHello you. It's Nathaniel. I've been absent but with good reason. I'm in Los Angeles for a few days visiting friends and catching up with favorite peeps at a couple of studios before the season hits like a tornado and whisks us all away to the Merry Ol Land of Ozcars. But really things are already spinning furiously. And there's no Kansas. There's only New York and L.A. where your house might land. Los Angeles is sunny and beautiful and there are more blondes per block radius than you could ever imagine in NYC. I get why people love it here but I started longing for the East Coast within 36 hours. People complain that NYC is loud and crowded but at least you don't have to drive. Driving is terrifying here. Google maps is currently in hate with me for my frequent confusions on the road. I've driven to about 6 places and been lost 4 times. 66% chance of things going wrong! Yay me. 

 I just wrapped up a junket at The Four Seasons for Dallas Buyer's Club (more on that film real soon) and the conversation before the talent arrived was all about "locks" for Oscar. The press gathered were saying things like "there are 5 locks for... and 5 locks for..." and if you've been reading The Film Experience for any length of time whatsoever you will know that I was horrified.  This is not how it works people. Sigh. Entire categories don't lock up before the precursors and even when they do firm up, there's usually a deathmatch for slot #5 in any given category. Unless by "lock" you mean "this looks like it might happen but who knows" in which case the symboic word has lost all correlation to its real life counterpart so quit using it. 

I don't normally do junkets since it's virtually impossible to get fresh exclusive coverage from them. Apparently I have control issues because not being able to shape a conversation with a fine director (let's say, oh, Jean Marc-Vallée) or ask about his past work in relation to his new work while the noisiest junketeer in the room merely asks him to regurgitate the entire press note package for his entire alloted time in the room just makes me C.R.A.Z.Y.

HYPOTHETICALLY SPEAKING, YOU UNDERSTAND.

view from my room at the Four Seasons

 But I can't say that I didn't enjoy my time at the Four Seasons. Lounging poolside first thing in the morning, or typing in a plush bathrobe while the balcony door lets in a cool breeze, or a quick elevator ride up several floors to sit down with Matthew McConaughey? I'll take it!  

P.S. Good god his eyes are blue in person. When he touched the hand of the girl next to me to illustrate a point, I thought she might spontaneously combust. Or melt.

How is your weekend going? 

Golden Horse Countdown

Here's Maggie Cheung's commercial (filmed by Hou Hsiao-Hsien) for the Golden Horse awards to be held on November 23rd in Taipei. I have it on good authority that she's saying...

 50 years Golden Horse, happy birthday

I wish I could speak Mandarin and Cantonese.
I also wish I could create sparkler-like effects by waving my arms around. 

Chinese speaking readers should also check out these promos. See, to celebrate their big 5-0 the Golden Horse Awards are interviewing past winners about their classic performances/films. And for those who missed the announcement the Best Picture nominees this year at the Golden Horse Awards are the following features:

Tony Leung, Maggie's #1 screen partner, in The GrandmasterDRUG WAR (Johnny To)
THE GRANDMASTER (Wong Kar Wai) Hong Kong's Oscar Submission, Dan's review which is likely the frontrunner given the huge amount of nominations (11) and the Maggie Cheung-adjacent legends involved
ILO ILO (Anthony Chen) Singapore's Oscar Submission Chen was not nominated for director, replaced by Mong-Hong Chung who directed Taiwan's Oscar submission Soul, but he's up for "New Director" instead
A TOUCH OF SIN (Jia Zhang-Ke) Glenn & Jose's review
STRAY DOGS (Tsai Ming Liang) Venice winner

What's the last Asian film you saw and are you rooting for any of the Asian entries to win a Best Foreign Film nomination in the Oscar race this year (a lot more on that category coming up soon)

Between Films... Thoughts on "American Hustle" Promos

We've already done a "yes no maybe so" on American Hustle's A+ teaser. I loved that teaser so much I ended up purchasing Led Zeppelin's "Good Times Bad Times" on iTunes. But recently the full trailer debuted. Due to travels I hadn't commented.

I'm in Los Angeles for a few meetings and the enticing promos for American Hustle (those fab character posters, too) aren't just the talk amongst movie fans but rival Oscar teams, too. It seems like two conversations are running parallel: the ongoing Gravity conversation and the conversation about the films people haven't yet seen American Hustle and Her (which screens tomorrow for press). Are Captain Phillips and Twelve Years a Slave going to be able to find a large enough window between what's hot right now (Gravity) and what's still coming to steal some of that thunder?  

The conversations I've had on the West Coast are a good reminder -- the internet can get so dully negative -- that many people who work on movies, whether its publicity, production, or full fledged movie stardom, started out as die-hard movie fans just like you and I.

So let's talk about the new trailer after the jump

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NYFF: 12 Years a Slave

The New York Film Festival (Sept. 27-Oct 14) is in its last few days; here's JA's thoughts on Steve McQueen's 12 Years a Slave.

The free man turned slave Solomon Northrup's been sent on a trip to the grocer by the mistress of the plantation. He's to get something or other. He walks down the dirt path dutifully... until he doesn't - he darts into the woods, quickly, making pains to not be seen. His brow bursts with sweat. He dodges around trees, through vines, and he runs, and runs. We've been waiting for this moment, for his nerve to snap, for the surrounding wilderness to swallow him up and carry him back to his family up North.

If only freedom were that simple. No, simplicity belongs to the other side here. Evil comes easy. Around every corner, behind every hedgerow, a hangman. A crowd surrounding two black men, strung up. There is to be no escape - just a trip to the grocer, picking up something or other, or else. The two black men yank up into the air furiously, twitching to death, and so Solomon moves on, which is all he can do - that, or hang, twitching to death in the strange surrounding wilderness of this nowhere nothing place where he doesn't belong.

But then it's not quite a nowhere nothing place, though the plantations are all rendered as any muddy backyard anyplace, thick with moss and turned-soil stretching out - it's a specific time, and a specific place, and a specific horror where Solomon Northrup finds himself imprisoned. And to say he doesn't belong implies that anyone there does - that his birthright on one side of a line drawn on a map renders him different from the souls he now stands and suffers beside. 12 Years a Slave knows better and muddies up every distinction - freedom's just a word, its meaning rendered by the person who says it or doesn't say it, so easily snuffed out in a world built upon institutionalized indifference laid over bottomless cruelty. To say one man's a little bit better than another only seems to mean he'll push the problem, you being the problem, off on someone else - you're gonna hang either way.

To say that Steve McQueen's film renders the unfathomable brutality of this period in our history tangible in a way that I've never seen captured on-screen before is both an understatement (for one it makes the cavalier jokiness of Tarantino's Django Unchained seem terrifically misguided, to put it nicely, in retrospect) and a bit of a side-step - it does that but it somehow, miraculously, does so through inclusivity. This is not a film that pushes you away, even as it renders you breathless by its terror. We become one with Solomon. That's on Chiwetel Ejiofor's flawless and open performance of course, but also McQueen's direction and John Ridley's script, which never feel the need to force us any which way but to what's suddenly, inescapably, right in front of us. The commonness of the horror, the ease of it - it's all just so simple here, the way you can turn a corner and find freedom replaced by a sack over your head and your toes scratching at the mud, as you gasp for one last strangled breath.

The scars, by the way, never go away. The ghosts neither. We might crumple into the arms of the people who love us, or we might crumple into the dirt a battered rag doll of a person, but we're all gonna fall. It's as graceless as it is inevitable. It is what comes after that means to survive. And then, after that too. And always, the after, that's all there is, stretching scarred out towards infinity, and falling some more.

NYFF: 'Manakamana' and 'Costa da Morte'

The New York Film Festival (Sept. 27-Oct 14) is in its last few days; here's Glenn's thoughts on Manakamana and Costa de Morte.

I admire the NYFF’s commitment to what they deem the “avant-garde”. Extensive programming in this sidebar make it a rarity amongst modern high profile festivals. NYFF features no “midnight madness” section for horror, and comedies were few and far between, but if you’re interested in movies that the general public consider “boring” and “strange” then NYFF is for you. I unfortunately did not get to catch more than a very small sampling, but what I did manage to see was enticing and illuminating.

Two of these that make a compelling double feature are Manakamana and Costa da Morte? Both are very sparingly shot examinations of a natural landscape that has likely never seen before by most western audiences. The former, isn't actually a part from the avant-garde showcase, although it really ought to be, comes from the Sensory Ethnography Lab, responsible for such daring and captivating cinema as Sweetgrass and this year’s Leviathan. From directors Stephanie Spay and Pacho Velez, Manakamana lacks the immediate gut-punch reaction that those other two had. It works more or less like an omnibus film, featuring eleven mini-films taken from within the cablecars that take worshippers to the titular mountaintop temple.

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