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Easily one of my favorite films of the 90's.
19 August 2002
An Angel at My Table tells the story of famed New Zealand author Janet Frame. We are drawn into the quiet world of the shy, red-haired girl who struggles with her life, but succeeds through her exceptional talent of writing. Since her autobiography was written in three separate volumes, we are treated to a film in three separate parts, beginning with her journey through childhood. The film does an excellent job at portraying the character of Frame, and her nervous attitude when brought into social situations. Every ounce of shyness is felt off-screen, which is a kudos to the direction of Campion, that plays an important part in making sure that this woman is brought to life, as realistic, and as close to the truth as possible.

Growing up in poverty, with two hard-working parents, and 4 siblings, life must've been hard. But when you're thrust into such a difficult situation, it somehow seems normal and it doesn't bother that it's a much harder life than other people currently living are. But Janet lived through her childhood, finding that she would love to spend her life as a poet, or just writing. A depression hit her hard during her teenage years when an unexpected tragedy occurred, and she had chosen to write, instead of being with that person beforehand. Not knowing she was a depressed young person, Frame was sent to a mental hospital, and forced to undergo several shock treatments, under the incorrect diagnosis of schizophrenia. However, Frame persevered through it, using writing as a way of expressing her own thoughts. While still in the mental hospital, she was able to publish a book. The years inside the hospital are the most unpleasant of film, and Campion perfectly captures the deranged conditions that Janet experienced. The most remarkable part about the direction is how it doesn't go over the top to deliver a nauseating film in those scenes. Rather, she plays to the quiet personality of Frame. The film is kept with the same pace, and focused in a way that never wants to show itself off, but keeps the main character always in the center, without losing that focus.

The blown-up biopic `Malcolm X' was released around a year later, and while I admire that film, it was also very hyped-up before it's release. I found a strange drawing power in the fact that Jane Campion's film wasn't about spectacle, but about someone's life that is done more sincerely, and realistically, paying close attention to details, both period and human. Something you wouldn't find in a Hollywood biopic, such as Milos Foreman's `Man on the Moon,' which I openly despise.

The writer and director surprised me a bit concerning a small detail in the film. In films concerning `writing', and an exceptional author (Wonder Boys, Finding Forrester), there is never any real proof of how good the writer supposedly is. We are never allowed to read the great book they wrote, nor are there much of any excerpts written to prove to us that the writer is indeed as great as it is suggested. In films, I realize that it really isn't possible to show such a thing, since film is a visual medium instead of a literary one. Campion and the screenwriter know this, and without subjecting us to Frame's writing, she adds in some narration, using actress Kerry Fox's voice. The narration is spread out in small bits throughout the film, never taking control of telling the story. Instead, it conveys the thoughts going on in Frame's mind, which are all little excerpts from the writing contained in her autobiographies. It begins with narration and ends with it. A surprising detail that is small, but adds much to the overall film, and gives the ending a sweet, and optimistic touch to an amazing film.

Frame was (is) talented at what she did most of the time, without knowing the talent was there. She only knew that she loved to do it, and wanted to continue doing it for the rest of her life. That is true talent. She had it, even at times when she thought there wasn't any hope; she had the ability to write. And because of that ability, that talent, she was able to gradually come to terms, and live comfortably with her life. ****1/2 of five or (9/10)
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Nostalghia (1983)
10/10
A Near Masterpiece
19 August 2002
Warning: Spoilers
There is a strange feeling that comes over me when I watch a Tarkovsky flick, like I'm seeing a puzzle come together to for a full picture, yet it is of something I cannot fully comprehend. I'm sure this has happened to numerous others while they watch a David Lynch film, or even one of the various mind-bogglers released this past year. But Tarkovsky comes to us with a different approach-an approach that I have not seen from any other director. It is an approach that reminds me of reading a poem. You read it once-you don't comprehend it. You read it again-it seems clearer. It may not be until that third reading that it finally clicks. Tarkovsky's images are not there to keep you puzzled, they all have a meaning and a purpose-you just need to find what that meaning is. It may seem like there is much work involved, and sometimes I would rather work for a film than be bowled over by its tepid scripting and mediocre direction. The one thing you would need, above all, would be patience, because it is not the kind of film to watch half-asleep.

The story, at times, is hard to grasp, number one because it is in subtitles. It follows a Russian poet who is on a research mission in Italy with an Italian interpreter. There, he is haunted by his past: memories of his wife and children. One of the most amazing things I picked up was the subtle use of symbolism. You have to pick the film apart if you wanted to fully understand it, and that is something that I enjoy doing. Tarkovsky leaves much to the mind. Such as the dialogue which is subtle as well, and attention must be paid or you'll miss small but important details. It merely is there to move the story along softly scraping the surface. Otherwise, the images must be analyzed.

The camera shots consist of many slow zooms, slow pans, numerous still shots, and semi-slow motion. Many instances, the camera reveals some amazing imagery that is so perfect, so beautiful that not only the most devout romanticist could appreciate. Actually, the entire film is a series of gorgeous cinematography, I couldn't tell you one shot I didn't like.

The final shot of the film is incredible. Constructed both metaphorically and physically, it shows the poet lying sideways on the ground with the top half of his body propped up with an arm. His dog lies next to him with his head on the ground. The camera pulls back steadily slowly. A house is revealed in the background. The shot pulls out further and the house seems smaller than the poet. When the zoom stops is shows everyone surrounded by tall pillars, like the ruins of a temple. Then it begins to snow, just a little; that image holds for an entire minute, before `To the memory of my mother,' appears on the screen. Puzzling, exhausting, yet beautiful and exhilarating. The film, at many points touches religion and life, mostly without answers. Attempting to find those answers is a task well worth the trouble.

****1/2 out of *****
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Solaris (1972)
9/10
Tarkovsky was a master at his art.
19 August 2002
Frequently, this has been called, `Russia's answer to 2001.' A comparison that I was originally confused by because it points to the fact that these two films are somewhat alike. As of now, that statement couldn't be more true. This is the third time in a row that I've been completely mesmerized by a Tarkovsky film. The first was `Stalker', the second `Nostalghia', and now the most ambitious of the three has taken me by complete surprise as a result of its complexity. It's also very hard to describe this piece of science fiction without giving too much away. It's a sci-fi romance/mystery/philosophical journey all rolled into one. It's a romance, yet, it isn't really a romance at all; more of an `artificial' romance. If that doesn't sound strange enough, watch the film. Both Solaris and 2001: a space odyssey share one thing aside from their science fiction roots; they explore mankind in a psychological way.

2001 expresses its point visually, taking us on a trip without explaining much. Solaris, at times is very talky, which takes it into a much different direction than the aforementioned film. It leaves much more to the imagination than you might expect. Yes, there are shots of the planet itself, but the conflicts and mystery play out mostly in your head. I like how Tarkovsky is able to make you believe something is happening, when it isn't physically happening. This is a big plus, and makes it all the more remarkable, because you can tell this was done on a small budget, but makes the best of it. Like 2001, it sets up a mystery, past its lengthy exposition, regarding the planet Solaris. The mystery is setup but never solved, and we are still wondering, `what is it?' But that is not the only mystery that drives the film; the other involves the main character, Chris Kelvin, and how he struggles to understand himself, and his love for the woman he lost many years before. And who has been resurrected by some power or ability the planet posesses. There is a great irony in this. Kelvin, a psychologist, is sent to the planet Solaris to do a report on the scientists who are working on a station to see whether the project should be terminated or not. Yet, he himself is the one eventually subjected to being studied.

The scientists are sent to study the planet, but the reason that they haven't, and cannot find a logical explanation to the problem laid down in front of them is that they do not understand themselves. It even occurs at one point in the film where the wisest among the scientists, Snauth, doesn't have all the answers, and he's right. Even in the end, they are still in a state of confusion, but we somehow understand that state of confusion. I don't think Stainslaw Lem, or even Tarkovsky for that matter, set out to answer questions the about humanity, but merely brought the questions and ideas forth to present them in a way that we might understand that not everything can be explained. We are limited as human beings. The final shot demonstrates that, as it pulls slowly away to reveal an image that I will never forget.

Tarkovsky brings the film both hauntingly and beautifully together. Not only does he do that, but his camerawork is slow and contemplative. It baffles me how someone like him can be that patient. He was one of a kind; a visual poet, a master at bringing art to the screen, yet his filmography only spans 7 films. I read that he considered this to be the weakest of all his films, but that isn't saying much. It draws you in by your curiosity, and never releases its grip til the end. It is one of the greatest among science fiction films; complex, mindbending, beautiful, and haunting. A great film.

****1/2 or (9/10)
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Radio Days (1987)
A Great Tribute to those "Radio Days" of the Past.
3 March 2002
Those little memories that might be conjured up from seeing your old neighborhood, or a song from the radio. These are the memories Woody Allen remembers, in his tribute to those radio days of the past. Whether they are true are not, I do not know, but it is both interesting and fun to see. Watching Allen's mind spill on to film is tends to be very offbeat, and a bit odd, but that is what makes watching his films such a great experience. There is no real plot to be found here, but as the title vaguely suggests, they are just a collection of small stories. Some of them, told through the point of view of lower class people in the eyes of younger Woody Allen, Joe, played by a tiny little Seth Green.

He goes on about how the songs played on the radio remind him of a particular event. It is strange how memories work like that, rising from that archive inside your brain that seems to be lost, but in a single second, a certain song or picture might dust off that memory, opening a doorway into the past. The film seems to stress how songs from those radio days bring back such memories. Not all of the stories revolve around Allen's younger self, but through various characters. Like radio voice, Sally(Mia Farrow), and his Aunt Bee(Diane Wiest), who just can't seem to find her true love. Reminds me of the way A Christmas Story is told, but on a larger scale, not sticking to one story. I guess a series of vignettes to convey the memories fit Allen's purpose here. I truly don't think he has one particular story that he can remember in full, but these scattered memories pulled together to create the whole works well.

Allen has a great eye for period detail, and I felt like I was taken into that time and place. The dialogue is sharp and funny; he sure doesn't fail us in that category. I guess such a film as this could go on forever. Stories like these could continue, and he shows us that the absence of a proper resolution is a better choice. He could end it anywhere, and the way he chooses is indisputable.

Those listeners didn't have television, and Allen illustrates here how much the radio effected these people's lives. If some tragic event were to happen to someone they didn't even know, they would be effected emotionally. Young Joe's obsession with the "masked avenger" is humorous to the audience because we find that he really is just a short and bald man played by Wallace Shawn. And such a little kid looks up to him, even if it is only the man's voice. The radio people ponder to themselves about how they have missed the great things about the city. While the normal people have seen it all, they have spent their time entertaining and wonder where that time has all gone. Years from now, will they be remembered? Probably not, but it is the essence of memories that keep them alive. But, as Allen points out, `as with each passing year, their voices do seem to grow dimmer.'

He has created a marvelous tribute to the era of Radio Days, showing me a time that is rarely recalled, unless I'm threatened to get my TV taken away, then the guilt-trip line is, `all they had back then were radio's, they didn't have TV.' Allen, however, brings those memories back in sort of a dreamlike fashion. There is no story to be told here, just memories told to us in the way he remembers them (such as setting the place and time up with a rainy street in Rockwell, New York; it looked most beautiful when it was like that, he says). Some parts are touching, some of them are funny and full of his off-the-wall humor; I just couldn't get enough of this movie. One of Woody Allen's best.

****1/2 out of *****
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1/10
There were better movies released in 1969.
3 March 2002
At times it seems that it is better to watch a bad movie, only because it makes you appreciate the good ones more. Sometimes when you watch so many great films, like I've been doing lately, it becomes a little tiresome, and you really don't care about that particular movie, you just know it was great, but there is a numbness about it.

I have never been insistent on watching Westerns, mainly because I live in a desert and I really don't care to have it thrown back into my face for a couple of hours that it is dry and hot and miserable. That doesn't mean that I don't like Westerns period, but I'm just not "into" them. But seriously, who doesn't like a classic like The Wild Bunch? My dad, being an old Western movie fan, recommended Mackenna's Gold to me as "my favorite movie with Gregory Peck." I generally don't care for his advice, but I thought to myself, "what the heck, why not?" So I watched this supposedly "good" film with an open mind, and I got a trashy piece of celluloid. When I read the opening credits, at first, the cast seems to me like thy might make this movie pretty good. It came out in 1969, and some rather great films came out that year like Midnight Cowboy, The Wild Bunch, and Z.

The "plot" revolves around Mackenna, played by Peck, who is a sheriff from the town of Hadleyburg, which we only hear about. Mackenna has seen a map that supposedly leads to gold, from an old Apache legend. Mackenna burns the map, and is found by an old rival and outlaw Colorado, played by Sharif. We spend the next two hours while Sharif forces Peck to lead him and two other Apaches to the gold, since he is the only person who saw what was on the map. Along the journey, we encounter Apaches, who are trying to protect the gold, and US soldiers who are trying to get a piece of the money too. I was not surprised, because when you've seen one "cowboys vs. Indians" movie, you've seen them all.

The dialogues exchanged between Peck and Sharif throughout are so idiotic and laughable, that it made me shake my head. If it had been any worse, I'm sure I would've had a concussion. It made Peck look bad, and I thought this guy was a great actor (who saw To Kill a Mockingbird?). He almost literally sleepwalks through his performance. I figured that since he did have the "good guy" role, that I should've at least been interested in what happened to him; I could have cared less. Omar Sharif-oh jeez-wasn't this guy in Doctor Zhivago? His acting was unbelievably over-the-top and laughable (including that dumb spanish accent), that even a jerk like Val Kilmer could've wet himself. It feels as if the writers didn't care about what they were doing, and just wrote one draft of the script. The actors are stuck working with corny dialogue, yet Sharif was the only one trying to distract from that, but it made him look and sound terrible.

The direction was just as bad. At one point in the film (or should I say movie since it doesn't deserve to be called a film), Peck, Sharif, and three other people on horses are escaping from a large group of Apache Indians. They get onto this big raft with their horses and escape down a river. They come upon some rough rapids, and right before they hit them, they take their horses and jump off into the water. As they did this, it looks like the filmmakers somehow speeded up the film, and it looked terribly choppy, in dire need of some good editing, and convincing special effects tricks. This same kind of editing job is seen two more times in the movie. Now, if you compare this to The Wild Bunch, that came out the same year, you'll see that Peckinpah's editing is so much smoother, and the action happening, for example the end battle scene, what we see actually makes sense. It seems in Mackenna's Gold, at the last minute, they tried to do the same thing, but with skewed results. If they had just cut out the entire first hour and fifty-eight minutes, and just kept the ending, it would've made a pretty good short. The action finale is one of those `roll-your-eyes' kind of things, but the editing wasn't half-bad, although the special effects showing the mountains crumbling are some of the shoddiest I have ever seen. The resolution is also another `roll-your-eyes' moment, and if you enjoy `rolling-your-eyes', I'm sure you wouldn't mind watching this movie. However, I must confess there is one shot in the entire movie that evades itself from all the preceding and following shots. It is of Monument Valley in Northern Arizona, just as the sun is rising. It shows the whole valley from above looking outward into the horizon, and if I could, I would frame that picture and hang it on my wall.

Movies cease to be enjoyable when, in your mind, the phrase, `oh my God, what were they thinking,' seems to be set on repeat, and you just can't seem to get that stop button to work.

*1/2 out of *****
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