What's on your cinematic mind?

I've been terribly swamped today: What's on your cinematic mind at the moment? Maybe it'll inspire a future post. Do share.

Norway and Oscar. Which "Amanda" Nominee Will They Submit?

Last night I had a lovely Scandinavian dinner with friends as we discussed our book club title "The Ice Princess" the latest best seller capitalizing on the super hot Scandinavian crime genre (oh what The Girl With/Who... has wrought!). I didn't like the book at all and the translation seemed clunky (or maybe that was the fault of the original prose?) but I find the whole trend vaguely hilarious since Scandinavian countries, to their vast collective credit, are not exactly known as hotbeds of crime! Returning home, what do I have in my inbox?, but the nominations for Norway's annual "Amanda" Awards. Don't you love unexpected theme days?

Norway had a record breaking year with 34 original films eligible for their own prizes. To give you a very general sense of the amount of films various countries make each year here's a handy graphic AMPAS provided for the films of 2007. Would that all the regularly Oscar submitting countries had been listed!

It's no surprise that Bollywood is the biggest deal with over a thousand films made a year.

BUT BACK TO NORWAY.

They basically have two "Best Picture" categories since Scandinavia has a rich history of children's films. So the six lucky movies are as follows.

Nokas was released in Norway the day after last year's foreign film eligibility cutoff!Best Children's Film

• Elias og jakten på havets gull (Lise I. Osvoll) -ANIMATED
• Jørgen + Anne = sant [a.k.a. Totally True Love] (Anne Sewitsky)
• Keeper’n til Liverpool (Arild Andresen) -a comedy about a 13 year old soccer goalie.

Best Film

• Gazas tårer [aka Tears of Gaza] (Vibeke Løkkeberg) -This is a documentary film about the consequences of war.
• Kongen av Bastøy/ The King of Devil's Island (Marius Holst) -Here is the highest profile release, a true story period epic about a boy's prison in the early 20th century.
• Nokas (Erik Skjoldbjærg) -Another true story, this one a crime drama about Norway's most famous robbery. This is from the director of the famous thriller Insomnia (1997) which Christopher Nolan went and remade.

Trailer to The King of Devil's Island with Stellan Skarsgård

Eligibility dates aren't exactly the same for the Amandas as they are for Oscar submissions but you shouldn't be surprised if one of these six films is Norway's submission. Two other films of note: Maria Sødahl's Limbo, a period film with the great Lena Endre about expat Scandinavians in Trinidad, did very well in total nominations (acting, screenplay, direction and more) but missed the Best Picture cut under the familiar awards rule of something-has-to. But it won't be the Oscar submission as it would have been eligible in 2010 and it also has a lot of dialogue in English. Trolljegeren, known abroad as Troll Hunter (it's even in release as we speak right here in the States) won multiple nominations, too.

I'm assuming that Joachim Trier's second feature Oslo 31, August missed the eligiblity cut off for these awards. And given that it was so well received at Cannes, perhaps Oscar submission is in the cards? Norway submitted the young filmmaker's debut Reprise once upon a time. (Oscar foolishly ignored it. God, what a startling debut that was. I nominated it!). Here's the trailer to Oslo 31, August.

...same lead actor as Reprise, playing a troubled soul again. I shouldn't make any uninformed guesses but my hunch is that it'll be this one or The King of Devil's Island for Oscar submission.

"I'm going to lose to the King's Speech again??? It's my turn!"Best Foreign Film
One of the funnest things for awards junkies when perusing off-Oscar prizes is how often Oscar giants show up in Foreign Film prizes. Hint: They usually do.

Click to read more ...

Cinema de Gym: 'Fool's Gold'

Kurt here with another round of Movies and Muscle. Flicks and Flexing. Celluloid and Deltoids. (I'm stopping, I'm stopping.) Today we have Fool's Gold, a frothy, summery dish and the unofficial sequel to How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. Released in 2008, this treasure-hunting rom com was to be the Runaway Bride or You've Got Mail for the beloved, if overestimated, duo of Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughey, whom, for brevity purposes, we'll refer to herein as Hudsoghey. Sadly, this well-meaning-lark-with-an-asking-for-it-title wound up even less successful than those other films, basically just serving as further proof of the lightning-only-strikes-once rule.

From what I gathered, Hudsoghey play husband-and-wife golddiggers who dive for sunken relics in what is either The Bahamas or an especially tropical-looking part of Florida (I swear I heard “Florida” in there somewhere). When I entered, wife was in the process of divorcing (a characteristically absent) hubbie, complaining about his incessant immaturity, but making a point to repeatedly emphasize his incredible sexual prowess. The visions she inspires seem to be the key fantasy this movie is trying to sell, and since no part of my snippet featured the requisite shirtless McConaughey, her words were doubly effective. (Not that they were ever in short supply, but McConaughey fantasies do seem to abound lately, what with that whole Justin Bartha “McConaughnuts” thing.)

Not part of what I saw

I couldn't pinpoint where I was in terms of the film's running time, but the sense of the divorce's impermanence was practically immediate, with Hudson second-guessing the Hudsoghey split. Enter Ray Winstone, Kevin Hart and President Snow himself, Donald Sutherland, who, if memory serves, play a fellow treasure man, a gangster and a rich tycoon, respectively. All are in search of a precious batch of Spanish artifacts, which Hudson seems to know the most about given her secret scholarly interests. When I stepped off my machine and headed for the door, she looked primed to literally dive back in, if not for love, then for love of ancient baubles.

Hudson as closet bookwormI liked the on-vacation vibrancy of the movie's visuals, which is pretty well-conveyed in that artificial-bronzer poster. I also like that I'm starting to get a beat on my gym's screening trends. They like McConaughey, especially when he's gallivanting around atmospheric locales with pretty ladies whose passions don't quite jive with their bombshell looks. Previously shown was Sahara, which features Penelope Cruz as some sort of a scientist.

But that's another post...

Conclusions?

1. Even if the movie's a dud (and even if her character's implausible), Hudson's pretty reliable when it comes to exuding that sunshine she inherited.
2. Hudsoghey likely won't be having a third go at it.
3. Sunny surroundings can give a major boost to films that are doomed to sink.
4. Fictional supercouples like Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling would probably be wise to learn from the Fool's Golds of the world: best to keep that (note)book closed.

Is there an onscreen flame you'd like to see rekindled?

One Take Wonders

Though I don't recall when it began -- maybe with Rope as just discussed? --  I've been obsessed with one-take scenes for what seems like forever. You know the kind. It's that thrilling moment when the editor seems to go out for a smoke break and the director allows the film and/or performances to fully breathe. That free breathing is probably an illusion since the scenes must be rigidly corseted by the technical and performative choreography required to get it all without "coverage".

When you see a great one take scene or film, even if that "one" take is partly a matter of film trickery (examples: Atonement, Children of Men basically the entirety of Alfred Hitchcock's Rope and Aleksandr Sukorov's Russian Ark and a scene we just discussed from 25 years ago in Peggy Sue Got Married) it can be hard to return to the world of "regular" filmmaking with its generic one and a ½ second cuts composed of plentiful coverage. Over the shoulder. Close up. Over the shoulder. Repeat for billions of converszzzzzzzzzz  

I'm sorry I fell asleep.

So why do so few film directors trust in the highwire potency of long or single takes? Are they too difficult to pull off? Are film actors that unable to sustain themselves throughout emotional hairpin turns the way stage actors can 8 shows a week for hours at a time? Do people think the audience will get bored (a falsity since these scenes are usually THE talking points of their movies)?

If they're so hard to pull off why do music videos with significantly lower budgets than movies keep selling them so well?

The latest one I saw was the low budget but high entertainment "Party Girl" by XELLE 

Absolutely hot. Think of the rehearsal time required just to time things like that glitter blow? But it works, don't you think?

And I've already expressed my love for both Robyn's "Call Your Girlfriend" - just her dancing in a gym but with all the lighting tricks it's just totally a great watch --  and Cosmo's Jarvis "Gay Pirate" which is both sing-a-long fun and actually moving.

Although it's NOT a one take video, this REM "üBerlin" video starring rising actor Aaron Johnson (directed by his partner Sam Taylor-Wood) breathes enough to suggest that it wanted to be one and would have been a classic video instead of just a frisky uninhibited one, if it were. 

So I ask in full sincerity...

  Why are today's directors so afraid of letting a moment play out without zillions of edits? If music videos -- which were once blamed for shortening the average shot length in movies -- can ironically use them so often now, why can't today's full length pictures? 

Personal Canon #100: "ROPE"

This article was originally published in 2006 when I kicked off the Personal Canon Project but I'm trying to get all the articles back online. 'The 100 movies I most think about when I think about the movies.'

Rope (1948)  Directed by Alfred Hitchcock | Screenplay by Arthur Laurents, Hume Cronyn, and Ben Hecht based on the play "Rope's End" by Patrick Hamilton | Starring: James Stewart, John Dall, Farley Granger and Cedric Hardwicke | Production Company Transatlantic Pictures and Warner Bros | Released 08/28/48

Hitchcock and the Continuous Shot
Alfred Hitchcock served as auteur-theory training wheels for me. I doubt I'm alone in this. Perhaps it's the confines of his chosen genre that throw his presence as a director into such unmistakable relief. Or maybe it's his celebrity, cultivated through that famous profile, press-baiting soundbites, celebrated fetishes, and television fame. But what it comes down to is this: when watching a Hitchcock film, even uneducated moviegoers, even movie-loving children can suddenly wake up to the notion of the man behind the curtain. Movies do not merely exist. They are built. The realization can be thrilling: Someone is actually choreographing this whole spectacle for my amusement!

And on the subject of choreography I give you Alfred Hitchcock's Rope. I gave myself Rope, actually, it being the first Hitchcock I sought on my own as a budding film fanatic. 'Let's see what else this man behind the curtain, this wizard, can do.' In this case what he could do was quite a lot. Though Rope obviously represented a complex coordinated puzzle for the filmmaking team, the plot is unusually simple. Two former prep school mates kill a third for the thrill of it (this is no spoiler, just the opening scene). They chase their "perfect murder" with a cocktail party to which they've invited the victim's loved ones.

The film's claim to fame for whatever meager fame it has managed --and I'd argue that that's disproportionate to the elaborately perverse buffet it serves up as well as its pivotal place in the director's career (first color film, first post-fame failure, second attempt at a confined space thriller, a form which would reap perfection for the auteur on his third attempt: Rear Window, 1954) -- comes from Hitchcock's formal experimentation. For Rope he uses one camera, one set and only nine actors. And then, here's the famous part: Hitchcock films it all in one continuous shot. Or thereabouts --there are five or six noticeable edits (and a few more I'm told) but why quibble? Jimmy Stewart's reliably grounding charisma aside, Hitchcock is Rope's true movie star and Rope's continuous shot is the mythmaking close-up. It just happens to be stretched across the entire 80 minutes.

the soundstage filming of Rope

The continuous shot is not for the feint of heart. It requires mad auteurial skill and also, one could argue, exhibitionist tendencies: These days when we see lengthy tracking shots we're most likely looking at an opening sequence meant to show off (think The Player's smug Hollywood-mocking) or a climactic setpiece (Children of Men provides a strong example), but they're never demure filmmaking tools. Filmmaking without coverage, without the escape of "we'll fix that in the editing room" is a highwire act, much closer in spirit to live theater than regular old movie-making and as such, it feels expectant of your applause. The performers and crew must be perfectly in synch to pull this showmanship off. While Rope's technical bravado looks quaint when compared to a recent epic like Russian Ark, and its jaw dropping parade of a hundred extras, it isn't an entirely fair comparison. That art house hit doesn't have much in the way of plot points to navigate and it wasn't out to please the mainstream either.

 

To Hitchcock's credit, Rope never feels much like a stage play despite the lack of edits and its apartment set. It's too alive for that. It's a movie through and through. The director dresses it up in every possible way he can: the sound design is particularly smart, splitting the party into separate conversational layers. There's a great sequence with only one actor, the hired help, walking to and from the foreground cleaning off the living room chest cum coffin as the murderers and the guests continue their conversations. The amount of tension Hitchcock manages to build by doing so little is admirable. He also makes elegant use of music. Another great moment occurs in a conversation between James Stewart and one of the killers, with the canny use of a metronome to add to the time bomb effect of the deadly evening. Light is also put to clever mood-enhancing work by varying the amount the curtains let in, and allowing artifical light from neighboring signage to enter at crucial moments.

My point, though I meander is this: Hitchcock doesn't even need editing, one of the chief tools of movie making, to breathe life into his creation. Thrillers these days often use editing as a crutch, particularly sharp jagged cutting which serves as a shortcut to provoke fear in the audience. But it's really only disorientation and startled seat jumping that's achieved: this kind of fear almost never outlasts a movie. Once the lights have gone up, equilibrium is restored. Unless you carry a working strobe light around with you, your life has no jump cuts. Outside the theater the world is lived in one long continuous shot again. For my moviegoing dollar, there's nothing as enduringly disturbing as something you're allowed a good uninterrupted look at. Whether a film is traipsing in true horror territory: I think of "Bob" stepping over the couch --fully lit (!) --to strangle Maddy in Twin Peaks or Samara emerging fom the TV in Ring for one last murder, or working a psychological nightmare: I think of that hypnotic endless close-up of Nicole Kidman in Birth, a woman on the verge..., nothing beats a movie that refuses to let you look away. Rare are the directors with the balls to say: This, and this alone is what you'll stare at. Though it pains you to look, this is what you'll see.

I hadn't watched Rope in a very long time and returning to it I found it sicker, funnier, and a bit sloppier than I remembered. Today it plays a little like an indie black comedy with a nasty dollop of winking gay panic. The relationship between the murderers is of the Leopold & Loeb school of evil homosexuals. Though this thriller was made in 1948, it could only read gayer if the men where shirtless or wearing leather harnesses.

This, for instance, is how the post murder scene plays out...

Two men, having just done the dirty deed, argue. The more aggressive man, Brandon, complains that they couldn't do it with the lights on, in the sunshine. His partner in crime, Phillip, has instant regrets. He could only do it in the dark. A cigarette is lit. More small talk and then they stand uncomfortably close together popping the cork (yes, really) on a bottle of champagne. 

Phillip: [guilt-ridden] Brandon, how did you feel?

Brandon: When?

Phillip: During it.

Brandon: I don't know really... I don't remember feeling much of anything. [suddenly excited] Until his body went limp and I knew it was over!

Phillip: [trembling] And then...

Brandon: And then I felt...tremendously exhilarated. [Pause] H-h-how did you feel?

Dirty. Hitchcock, the mainstream's most reliably twisted auteur, clearly intends for this post-murder dialogue to double as post-coitus chatter. Sadly, Rope was neither the first film nor the last to casually demonize two of Hollywood's favorite targets: the homosexual and the intellectual. Both types, according to Tinseltown's ignorant mindset, are prone to acts of violence. Combine the two and bingo: You've got a serial killer! Rope is but one movie in a long chain of them, a continuous shot of Hollywood fear-mongering if you will, that shamelessly harness audience phobias of 'the other.' Even now, though, this troubles me less within the confines of a Hitchcock film than it would anywhere else. For let's be frank: What is any Hitchcock film without dark psychologies, sociopathic behavior, and sexual crises of multiple varieties?

When I was younger, most of Rope's sexual content slipped by me, anyway. The contact high I got from it was unrelated to adult naughtiness. It provoked no juvenile tittering. No, the thrills came from Rope's easy to grasp experimentation. I simply loved the gimmick. I caught another glimpse of the man behind the curtain. I still feel the same way when I watch it: give me more of this. Provide me with an uninterrupted supply of auteurs who want to challenge themselves. Give me more Hitchcocks, Von Triers, Haynes, Soderberghs. Experiment with the form. And then I'll feel... tremendously exhilarated.