Reviews

Eadweard Muybridge is probably best known for lining up a series of 24 cameras, in the year 1878, in order to photograph a galloping horse.

The documentary "Eadweard Muybridge, Zoopraxographer" briefly covers his life, but concentrates its gaze upon Muybridge's photography work before and after the much publicized galloping-horse-at-Palo-Alto event.

In his early career, Muybridge photographed landscapes of the American West. Equipped with early 3D stereoscope cameras, he covered a war with the Native Americans.

The bulk of the documentary concentrates on Muybridge's photographic technique of cataloging animal and human motion. Intriguingly, he had cameras set up at a variety of angles, simultaneously capturing the same fleeting moment from various viewpoints.

The narration can be a bit tedious and academic at times. The endless amount of nudity in Muybridge's work also grows a bit exasperating. However, his rigorous documentation of details, and endless experimenting makes his "zoopraxography" work fascinating to early photography lovers.

I prefer not to rate this film, as it's a far cry from being "great entertainment" and yet I found it to be very educational.

Anyone who has seen a Brothers Quay film realizes that narrative is irrelevant, and image is everything. Clock-like 19th century mechanisms appear as a regular motif. By creating an anachronistic, scientific wonder their films derive their greatest strength.

The basic plot of THE PIANO TUNER OF EARTHQUAKES could have been lifted right out of a story by German fantasy writer and composer E.T.A. Hoffmann. It concerns a piano tuner who travels to a distant estate, owned by an elusive doctor. This doctor owns a number of clock-like mechanisms (automatons, he calls them) which will be used to create a grand opera. He requests the tuner to get the automatons in perfect-pitch working order. There's a subplot involving a beautiful opera singer whose life may be threatened by performing in the doctor's upcoming production.

PIANO TUNER OF EARTHQUAKES was shot in color, on High Definition video. Most of the daytime shots are enveloped in a haze. The color seems muted. Many composite shots with painted backgrounds are used. There's an ethereal feeling to the images.

The worst parts of the film are where the narrative is forcefully injected. Some story bit is clarified, and that tactic makes it seem like a cheap, thoughtless movie. Only when sound effects, music, and visuals are used, with no dialog, the emotional effect is stunning.

This is NOT an easy movie to watch. Watching this is about as fun as listening to a piece of music by Schoenberg or Webern. However, fun or entertainment isn't the point. This film questions convention.

Stop-motion animation shots, for which the Brothers Quay are best known, are used sparingly.

The music often seems inappropriate, very 1940's Hollywood sounding - and quite frankly, I found it distracting; it made everything seem more artificial than perhaps intended.

Overall, THE PIANO TUNER OF EARTHQUAKES gives one the impression of a moving-photograph gallery. And photographs are usually viewed best when you are not told what to think of them, but instead, are allowed to let your mind wander free from conventional thought, and dream a picture's story for yourself.

Glover proudly proclaims four directorial influences: Bunuel, Kubrick, Herzog, and Fassbinder.

Bunuel explains the random, unexplained "taboo" imagery. Kubrick explains the overkill of classical music in this film (in this case Wagner) mixed with strong sexual themes. Herzog - one only need remember "Even Dwarfs Started Small" to realize where Glover got the concept for this film, using nothing but actors with Down's Syndrome - attacking each other, and killing far too many snails with salt. Fassbinder always had a bit of an unrehearsed independent film edge to him - which surely shows here.

Surprisingly, the soundtrack is handled quite well. The majestic Wagner music makes all the silly fantasy scenes quite respectable. Yes, we see nude female porn stars stepping about in a studio forest, draped in fog. But each wear an animal mask, and hide in small volcanoes on the forest floor. One thinks perhaps this could be a surreal riff on Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream." The naked man in a rising clam-shell vaguely reminds one of Botticelli's "Birth of Venus". Glover, himself, dons long hair, and a regal cape - looking like he's auditioning for Richard III. He demands his escorts address him as Shirley Temple.

Glover's subtle attempt at "taboo-breaking" seems like a silly attempt at dadaism. Swatstikas appear at the most unexpected places (as do watermelons, and a white man in black face.) Concerning the "weirdness" factor... I'm sorry, but I've seen stranger: Guy Maddin's "Twilight of the Ice Nymphs" and Richard Elfman's "Forbidden Zone" trump Glover in that department. Sorry, Crispin.

(Now, if we discuss Glover's live slide show presentation - that IS weird, and fun, and downright hysterical! The live slide show presentation I'd rate 8 out of ten. But for the film "What is it?"... 5 out of 10. Well, at least he was inspired by good sources.)

PAN'S LABYRINTH is a strange hybrid film. For long stretches we are in Spain during World War II. And when that violent world becomes too stressful, we accompany Ofelia, a 12-year-old girl, into a fairy tale land. The fantasy lasts for one scene, and we find ourselves back to Spain again.

The real monster in this film, is human: Ofelia's stepfather, General Vidal. He demands complete obedience from everyone under his command. It is this unwavering, unilateral stance which filmmaker Del Toro attacks at every chance. Del Toro believes imagination nurtures one's spiritual being. If we do not develop imagination, and think for ourselves, we become mindless. And only the mindless follow all orders, no matter how inhumane, without thought.

The World War II Spain segments are a bit too polished to feel legitimately 'in period.' The uniforms look brand new; there's no wear to them. The lack of depth to these violence-prone characters reminded me of Sergio Leone's "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly." Each person is either good, or bad, or good pretending to be bad. And to make things interesting: everyone has an individual quirk.

The fantasy sections, while very enchanting, and inventive, are nearly free of any real tension. The Pale Man segment is creepy, but - for me - General Vidal politely making a request is ten times scarier.

The make-up, animatronics, and CGI work in this film are amazing. There's a palpable reality to these creatures. Details like Pan's twitching ears made it easier for me to believe in the fantasy than in the 'historical period' scenes. The life-like flight movements of the fairies are captivating enough to make FX modeler Ray Harryhausen jealous.

Nice movie. But, realize that PAN'S LABYRINTH is about finding the strength and courage to rally against inflexible authority. It's about this little girl, Ofelia, coping with a rough life in 1944 Spain. The fantasy elements serve as sorbet between courses of a larger meal. It cleanses your pallet and keeps you optimistic even during the darkest of times. Imagination becomes salvation.

Girl gets kidnapped. Cop searches for girl. Cop gets beat up by bad guys. Cop locates hideout. Rescues girl. That's the story.

The secret of immortality serves as the 'MacGuffin' in this potboiler. But, anyone versed in life extension theories (think Ray Kurzweil, Aubrey de Grey) will be utterly baffled by RENNAISSANCE's uninformed assumptions about genetic-engineered immortality.

All films are limited in some form by a budget. RENAISSANCE places its money on a handful of amazing cityscape shots. The camera swoops past buildings, all in 3 dimensions; it's amazing. When it comes to props, and inanimate objects, this movie will blow your mind.

The acting is horrendous. We're talking - the quality of auditions for a high school play, at best. Presumably, the English dialog (the version I saw) was recorded after the animation was completed. That means, the animation you see was not inspired or influenced by the voices. (I wonder if the French version is more convincing?) What's odd is the judicial use of motion-capture. No one uses hand gestures in this film, while talking. In fact, all dialog scenes are talking heads, and wooden heads at that. If POLAR EXPRESS suffered from 'dead-eye syndrome', then RENAISSANCE suffers from 'dead-face syndrome.' The characters are soul-less. Talking head. Expressionless talking head with an emotion-filled voice. That's what you see.

The action scenes? Fantastic. Clearly, the action scenes are where they used motion-capture to maximum effect. You can tell, because the movement is so natural. 'Extras' in the background look like they were photographed in real time. A car chase sequence displays some unreal physics, but on the whole, the action sequences are stunning.

I purposely did not give this film a star rating. It's one of those rare breed of movies where it would be unfair to give a single overall rating. The visuals are groundbreaking in so many ways. And, yet, many of the future ideas are cliché and uninventive. The script, the characters, the story are an absolute bore. However, I can't stop thinking about RENAISSANCE. I might even go see it a second time in the theater.

Maybe Ridley Scott was right when he said, "There are certain moments in movies where the background can be as important as the actor. The design of a film is the script."

The court case of The United States vs. John Lennon was an attempt by the United States to deport an undesirable immigrant who at one time plead guilty to the possession of marijuana. That's the underlining narrative of this film: How John Lennon won his Green Card. (In reality - Nixon was paranoid that peace-loving Lennon could sway the youth vote in the 1972 election - hence the U.S. government tried to kick him out of the country.)

Filmmakers Leaf and Scheinfeld said they tried selling this idea as a film for years - starting in the 1990's. It wasn't until 2004 (that is, post 9/11, post invasion of Iraq) that a studio green-lit this project. The documentary is crafted intentionally to draw parallels between Vietnam and our current situation in Iraq. However, they never come right out and say it (except once - Gore Vidal slips Bush's name in - during an interview he made for this film.)

The 'U.S. vs JOHN LENNON' transports us back to the era of the Vietnam War, using tons of rarely-seen footage. Thanks to Yoko Ono, Leaf and Scheinfeld had unlimited access to the Lennon archives. Master tapes of his songs were used (sometimes with the vocals removed) allowing Lennon to create the entire music soundtrack. We even hear home recordings of John speaking to his baby Sean (who we hear coo-ing into the microphone).

The Black Panthers, activist Abbie Hoffman, Angela Davis... many of the movers and shakers of the peace movement are covered in this film. Also included is a tapestry of Walter Cronkite news bulletins, Nixon speeches, and war footage.

G. Gordon Liddy's interview represents the corrupt viewpoint of the Nixon administration: "I saw all these peace marchers carrying candles. I grabbed one of the guys' hands - used his candle to light my cigar, and said 'Well, at least you're good for something.'"

Yoko Ono comes across as a very nice person in this film (not her normal demonized stereotype character.) After watching this movie, I now have a profound respect, not only for post-Beatle John Lennon, but, for Yoko Ono as well. This movie will undoubtedly revise a lot of people's opinion about her.

Unfortunately, there's the obligatory assassination mention at the end. Leaf and Scheinfeld handle it nicely, and deal with it in under five minutes, but it really seems tacked on. Yes, we all know Lennon was shot, but only a conspiracy theorist would believe it was related to his peacenik activities (which, THANKFULLY, the film does not suggest.)

Oddly enough, the trailer for 13 (Tzameti) gives away the major surprise of the entire film. Avoid the trailer if you intend on seeing the movie.

13 (Tzameti) is a devastating thriller shot in gritty black and white, and presented in ultra-wide screen. The look vaguely reminded me of Jules Dassin's RIFIFI.

A 22-year-old roof repairer discovers an envelope containing a train ticket and a letter confirming a hotel reservation. Originally addressed to his recently-deceased employer, the young man knows that this is his ticket to a potentially large amount of cash. He takes the train, having no idea what wild adventure awaits him.

I won't divulge anymore of the story. But, let's just say, what awaits him is psychologically, and ethically nerve-wracking. Few films have frayed my nerves to the point of no return, as this movie has.

It's purely a plot-driven movie. (Might I note - director Babluani has already 'sold out' to Hollywood - and is slated to remake this film in English for a 2008 release. He was obviously aiming for a commercial film.) The characters are not very deep. However, there is a raw, documentary feel, heightened by the fact that most people in this film are NOT professional actors. (For example, the male lead is the director's younger brother.) As in a Mickey Spillane novel, the audience receives information ONLY on a need-to-know basis. We are never let in on any irrelevant details. Each scene acts as a cliffhanger, holding your attention, hooking you in for the next scene. It's a thriller with that rare quality of speeding freight-train inertia from beginning to the end (i.e. there are no slow spots.)

The 'game' which the young man is 'requested' to play, while perhaps in the realm of fiction, follows a set of strict rules. The protocol has clearly been time-tested by experience. (At least it feels that way!) Any time a film-maker attempts to present the audience with an original experience, or whole new slice of culture, I admire the attempt.

While driven solely by plot, 13 (Tzameti) spends enough time with various characters, that each has an opportunity to create a unique impression upon the audience. Yes, the script moves, it's tight, but loose enough to allow the actors to be themselves, to demonstrate idiosyncrasies. This creates a fly-on-the-wall documentary feel. This gritty realism, for my money, qualifies the movie as one of the great thrillers of this decade.

Hard to believe this is Babluani's debut feature!

Note: Very squeamish people may find the 'game' utterly revolting to the point where they deem 13 (Tzameti) to be just plain sick. By no means is this film life-affirming. (It's extremely existential in it's outlook.) Quentin Tarantino could serve as a good litmus test on whether you would find 13 (Tzameti) revolting. In my opinion, RESERVOIR DOGS is more inhumane than this movie. PULP FICTION is perhaps a bit tamer, or equal in squeamish-inducing-intensity, to this film. Either way, be prepared to be uncomfortable.

Wright complained to a friend about about how many thousands of dollars he owed. His friend lent him money to pay off his debts. Later that day, Wright went out and purchased three grand pianos! And went back to complaining about his debts. He felt a compulsion to live at 'the edge.' "Take care of the luxuries of life, and the essentials will take care of themselves," Wright philosophized.

Ken Burns examines the character of Frank Lloyd Wright. What made him 'tick'? How does one go about becoming the greatest American architect of the 20th Century? (or as Wright would say: the greatest architect of all time)? A few of Wright's grandchildren are interviewed to help solve this puzzle. A 100-year-old son of the famed architect wheezes his views, in a raspy voice. Those views aren't very flattering: Wright abandoned his first wife, and his children, for various women over the years. In fact, he was jailed in Minnesota for crossing the state border in the company of a woman for 'immoral purposes.' He proved an embarrassment to his family. "I have felt fatherly feelings towards my buildings, but never towards my children," FLW muttered.

Burns interviews the long-lived architect, Philip Johnson: "I hated Wright. Hated him." Embittered with feelings of jealousy, and contempt, Johnson (serving in the 1930's as a curator at New York's Museum of Modern Art) had the unenviable task of wrestling a small home design from FLW - to be displayed with other modern architects at a museum exhibition. Wright, who was penniless at the time, refused to cooperate, insulted that he wasn't offered a solo show.

Johnson: "I felt he was the greatest American architect of the NINETEENTH century. When someone at MoMA said they wanted Wright to be part of a modern architect showcase, I said sarcastically, 'Isn't he dead?'" Wright may have been 'dead' in 1930, but FLW's creative output after his 1935 comeback (Fallingwater) remains unequaled.

Many of the interviews (including some of Johnson's answers) are very positive regarding FLW's work. Sometimes overly reverent. FLW is compared to Beethoven. And the Johnson Wax Building is called his 'Ninth Symphony.' FLW, the man, on the other hand, is branded a con-man, a charlatan, a child who liked to play with other people's money.

Titles, such as "Can you just build me an office building?" or "I am immortal," divide the documentary into focused segments. Much like chapters of a biography. Each 'chapter' includes a question and answer with FLW himself - taken from an early television interview - with young Mike Wallace as reporter.

In response to another reviewer on this site who claimed that the Tokyo Imperial Hotel is not covered...perhaps that was true for the PBS broadcast...but that is NOT true for the extended home video version of this film. The earthquake-proof Imperial Hotel (for which FLW designed every aspect - down to the Hotel stationery) is briefly covered, but for no more than five minutes.

Many building projects are shone, but few are examined in any real detail. Perhaps one or two pervading traits of a particular structure will be mentioned and shown. Burns gives you enough information to get a taste of FLW's genius, but not enough for you to learn the nuts and bolts of architecture. Aspiring students will need to consult a book for that. But, for the rest of us, who are merely curious, the footage of the buildings are long enough to grant us a sense of place, a sense of serenity, and a glimpse of that organic truth for which Wright devoted his life.

This film covers the last half of Wagner's life. As it begins, we see him at the age of 35, chastising his publisher for not displaying his compositions in the store room window. Following this, are political demonstrations, complete with unending monologues by Wagner spouting politics, politics, politics. He has loud, arrogant opinions about everything, and commands such attention in these sequences, as to render everyone else to the status of silent bystander.

The 300 minute version starts off stuffy, serious, and far too reverential towards the composer (if that's what Wagner is - we don't see him composing until 50 minutes into the film!) The actress who plays Minna, his first wife, communicates either by near-silent whispers, or by ear-piercing screams. Sound mixing does not help here. Many dialog scenes are quiet, and interrupted by very loud music. I'm all for use of varied dynamics in sound design, but found myself fiddling with the volume control far too many times throughout this movie. (John Gielgud's voice - as the Narrator - was the one voice that always spoke at an appropriate sound level.)

There's no denying that this film moves at a glacier-like pace. But, 'slow' does not mean 'bad.' The further this movie rolls along, the better it gets. In fact, the latter half indulges in some brief comedy, which vents the heavy drama with much-needed fresh air.

This beautifully-photographed, frigid film grows lovably warm in the final hour. The building of the Bayreuth Festspielhaus, and hectic preparation for the staging of the complete Ring cycle creates a wonderful sense of fun, giddy excitement. By far, the best sequences of the film. Wagner, by this time, has morphed into a three-dimensional character. People around him have legitimate viewpoints, and no longer serve as mere cardboard cut-out listeners - as in the beginning of the film.

But before that sequence, Wagner curses out his patrons, demanding nothing but money, no opinions, no suggestions, just money. "All I want is money!" is a regular, tiresome, catchphrase.

"I must have beauty, splendor, light... I am not like the others. I, which have so much joy to send to the world, ask for so little comfort in return."

WAGNER is a strange biopic. It concentrates on the commerce side of creativity...the behind-the-scenes politics...the arrogance and Machievellian trickery often required in the making of any great work of art. This dubious deal-making takes center stage, as well as the pain it inflicts on patrons, family, and friends. The music...which we associate with Richard Wagner...merely serves as scenery.

Having seen Zeman's excellent rendition of Baron Munchausen, I decided to watch ON THE COMET, expecting a similar mind-bending trip. Unfortunately, there's less animation in this film, and far more silliness, and confusion.

ON THE COMET is set in North Africa (presumably Morocco) in the year 1888. The French military have occupied the region, and are on the verge of war with the local Arabs. There's a Spanish diplomat who serves as a moderator between the two nations.

The story's main character is a French Lieutenant who falls off a cliff while surveying land. He lands safely in water, and is rescued by the girl of his dreams.

Can you follow any of this? This is just the beginning...

There's a giant moon on the horizon which looms larger and larger. Fortunately, the French Lieutenant is knowledgeable about such strange astronomical matters, and explains to us that the strange sphere is NOT a planet, not a moon - but a comet - heading directly towards Earth! Meanwhile, the Spanish diplomat attempts to blow up the French militia. And it is this MASSIVE explosion which catapults an entire city, along with all of its inhabitants up into the atmosphere - and they land, soundly onto the comet.

Now, never mind the fact that comets are balls of rock and ice, rarely more than 50 kilometers in diameter (according to wikipedia.) Oddly enough, this comet - the surface - looks IDENTICAL to Earth! Gravity remains the same. There's no extremely curved horizon. The only way the audience knows the characters are on a comet, is because they continually say that they are on a comet!

The rest of the film makes fun of the absurdity of war. It shows high officials acting like complete imbeciles. A French Captain pounds a desk whenever he complains. With each strike of the desk, powder from a crumbling ceiling lands on his head. Does he ever decide to move out of the way? No. He continues his habit, propping an umbrella above his head.

None of these antics are terribly funny. They are merely silly.

At one point, animated dinosaurs appear, seemingly out of nowhere. The French Captain orders his cavalry to attack. They are frightened of the reptiles, but due to the tame tone of this film, you know they are not in any real danger. Shooting guns at the dinosaurs prove ineffective. "I told you our calvary was in no shape to fight" snorts the Captain, in disgust.

Why are dinosaurs roaming a comet? I have no idea. But, common household utensils turn out to be the weapon they fear most.

This movie consists of silly people running away from enemies who are absurd and not scary. And then running some more after an inconvenient kidnapping. None of this action appears to take place on a comet - even though everyone claims that's where they are.

The bulk of this film is shot in monochrome - that is, black & white, with a very strong yellow tint (or should we say black & yellow?) The effects shots have various colors in them.

ON THE COMET is pure absurdity. Fun, I guess, if you can make any sense out of it.

Imagine staying up for 40 hours straight, with no sleep. Certain details of your consciousness seem brilliantly vivid - while other concepts, escape your attention and blur by. SCANNER DARKLY exists in that midway point between comprehension and confusion. I just saw the film, and I barely understand what it was about.

If SCANNER DARKLY was released without the rotoscope technique, I would recommend avoiding it - for it's a talky, confusing film about Keanu Reeves as a police investigator spying on his own home - trying to capture incriminating evidence against himself?! Riddled with long, rambling, bickering scenes between Keanu Reeves, Woody Harrelson, and Robert Downey Jr. who all room in the same house, the movie makes you feel like you're visiting a college dorm, waiting to kill a few hours before a party. Are there some humorous jibes? yes. Rampant stupidity? yes. Constant signs of irresponsibility? you bet.

No doubt SCANNER DARKLY is a thinly disguised variation on Philip K. Dick's daily life.

There are a few subplots going which keep things somewhat interesting, but they primarily revolve around paranoia, the need for more Substance-D, and an ever-increasing distrust and dislike of the world.

The rotoscoping technique is hypnotic. That is the one BIG plus. Unfortunately, aside from the ever-shifting images of the identity-cloak device, the animation is rarely used to dramatic effect. (Note - animation heightens the impact of the hallucination sequences.) In fact, the identity-cloak animation ALWAYS upstages whatever dialogue is being said at the time. Is that a good thing?

The technique is more refined than in WAKING LIFE (Linklater's earlier experimentation with rotoscope technique.) But, be warned, WAKING LIFE was more inventive. SCANNER DARKLY plays like a paranoid, lucid dream, descending slowly into nightmare, and then ends seemingly mid-story with an anti-drug epilogue. It really felt incomplete.

I was looking forward to this film for a long time, and I guess I got my money's worth. The animation is fantastic. But, can style compensate for barely-perceptible content? SCANNER DARKLY is as comprehensible as a half-remembered dream.

This film reminded me of Roger Corman's early efforts. The AMAZING MR. X is something you might catch on television, playing at midnight. It's goofy, spooky, weird, fun, has a terrible soundtrack, and is shot entirely on the grounds of two neighboring Southern California cliff-side ocean homes.

The actors' minds seem to be elsewhere, when delivering their lines. (Perhaps they're thinking about what they'll have for dinner tonight, after they're done shooting the scene.) The close-ups are total glamor shots.

Nearly every scene is accompanied by some inappropriate background music - which does nothing whatsoever to heighten the mood. Every time the dead husband is mentioned - we hear a distant piano, playing the same bars from a slow Chopin Prelude - which just repeats itself ad nauseum. (The dead husband was apparently some great pianist - every time his living wife hears the piano, she grows distressed - then, sentimental - then distressed - then, sentimental...) My favorite sound bit - is the spiritualist's pet raven - who's caw sounds amazingly like a sound fx man imitating a raven!

Many of the scenes appear to be photographed through gauze. A very hazy look permeates the film. Also - lots of intense back-lighting. Windows and doorways flooded with light - reducing any object in front of it, to the status of a silhouette.

There are less than ten actors in this film. Economy wise, it's something worth noting. Same goes for the photography. It's really great photography. There's some trippy ghost images which are genuinely uncanny. However, aside from the séance sequences, the film slogs along at the speed of ectoplasm in January.

Actually, the quality of the film increases as it gets towards the climax. Turhan Bey does a good job playing the spiritualist. His reviving-the-dead techniques are well thought out. The last half of the movie is decent.

BTW - If you're looking for an entertaining thriller about a spiritualist - I'd recommend you check out Fritz Lang's "The 1,000 Eyes of Dr. Mabuse" (1960).

Quite simply, the more CO2 there is in our atmosphere, the warmer our planet gets. Period.

Lower the carbon dioxide level, and the earth cools.

This is not rocket science; it's blatantly simple.

Al Gore compares the current 'doubts' about global warming to the old 'doubts' whether smoking was harmful to one's health. Oil companies, just like tobacco companies before them, have a strong will to survive - so they create a 'doubt' campaign. Gore says 100% of scientists say that Global Warming is real, however - 54% of news articles on the subject, present the idea of Global Warming as 'doubtful.' After seeing then-and-now photo comparisons of melting ice shelfs and glaciers around the world - the severity of our current situation becomes obvious.

Gore goes out of his way to avoid Bush-bashing. Making this a political film would be counter-productive. Yet, the fact that the Bush family has strong ties to oil remains impossible to hide. The current Administration states that lowering emissions will hurt our economy. Gore smugly points out: without a planet, there is no economy. Fortunately, individual states are taking their own initiative to follow guidelines listed in the Kyoto Treaty, to prove that it can be done.

The film concentrates on Gore's traveling 'slideshow' presentation, and then periodically inserts some of his biographical details - to serve as an intermission between lecture sessions. This way, the film never becomes monotonous.

The case he makes is overwhelming. Unfortunately, Gore only lightly touches on what we can do about this problem. The bulk of his pro-active suggestions are not presented until the end credits of the movie.

His suggestions? Consume less energy. Use hybrid vehicles. Recycle.

More ideas can be found at the movie's website: www.climatecrisis.net

"Le Duel d'Hamlet" is a milestone in many respects. It has a reputation of being the first movie screened with a synchronized soundtrack. (The sound of swords striking one another were recorded on a now-lost cylinder recording.) Also, this is the first fiction film with a major star in the lead role.

There are various surviving prints of this film. I've seen a 45 second version with titles, and a nearly 2 minute version without titles.

The movie consists solely of a saber fight. Bernhardt plays a cross-gender Hamlet, and Pierre Magnier is her fellow duelist, Laertes. A few bystanders, in Rennaissance dress, stand off to the right of the screen, and in the background, next to a painted backdrop.

The filming style is very 'Lumiere-esque.' Single, stationary camera shot. Brief running time. All action is clearly presented on a stage. A documentary of one scene from a theater production.

Near the end of the film, Bernhardt is slashed by Laertes' poisoned-tipped knife. She staggers, and in a daze, gives her most restrained death scene on film. She falls backwards in a faint. The bystanders catch her before she hits the floor. Hoisting her horizontal body up in the air, they act as pall bearers, somberly carrying her offstage.

On a historical note, this is the only footage taken of Sarah Bernhardt before her disastrous knee injury - which occurred in 1905, when she jumped off a parapet in the final scene in a production of La Tosca, during a South American tour.

She's very nimble in this film. She's 56 years old in this film, and is more buoyant than anyone else on the screen. There's no leaning on other actors, or clutching to sturdy furniture for support - as she tends to do in later films. "Le Duel d'Hamlet" is the closest we can get to see what Bernhardt was like in her prime. In 'Hamlet', she has the grace of a dancer.

At a New York screening of this film, Sydney Pollack claimed, "The last thing I wanted to do is make some puff piece about Frank Gehry...about how great Frank Gehry is...how everybody loves Frank. That's why I cut back to the critic three different times." Oddly enough, it's not the critic who has the harshest words: it's Frank Gehry himself. "When a building's finished. I don't like it. I want to change it," he says.

We see him inspecting a model of one of his planned buildings. "I hate it." Gehry grabs hold of an extended roof from the model, rips it off, and places it somewhere else against the building. An assistant secures it in place.

The most candid moments of this film are shot in digital video. Pollack explained: "Gehry is a very shy guy. He doesn't like to talk a lot. So, rather than waste a lot of expensive film, we used a DV Cam." Interspliced between the interviews is Super 16mm footage of Gehry's completed work. Pollack intentionally used this hybrid media approach in an attempt to emulate Gehry's thinking. Use 50% Classical elements, and 50% free-form creativity.

As a result, a number of unexpected elements come into play. Such as an interview with Frank's 94-year-old therapist. Who would think to interview the man's therapist?! Another intriguing character is a yuppie artist who lounges about in a fluffy white bathrobe and sunglasses. He lazily spins poetic wisdom. "Seeing Frank's work," he purrs, while nursing a glass of red wine, "is like watching Apocalypse Now, and after the movie someone comes up to you and says 'Robert Duvall was over-acting.'" Bizarre, off-the-cuff material! Far from the land where Pollack normally treads. This is the land of the iconoclast. The land of Gehry. A trip into Gehry's mind.

Pollack explained the genesis of the film: "Frank kept on talking to me, trying to get me to do this documentary. And I said, Frank, look, I know nothing about architecture. I know nothing about documentaries. He said, 'that's why you're perfect.'" The fact that Pollack 'didn't know what he was doing' becomes apparent mid-way through the film. After exploring Gehry's basic philosophies, and covering how he became an architect, the film begins to lose inertia. I mean, candid interviews with the man are great. (Pollack and Gehry have been friends for years, and it shows.) But, basic things, like structural engineering are glossed over. How do you deal with zoning? That's barely mentioned. How does he go from this wild 3D model in his workspace to a completed building?

Pollack concentrates merely on the creation of Gehry's sketches, and his initial designs. He focuses on Gehry's ever-evolving philosophies on art - and never explores what happens beyond the model stage. As if all Gehry makes is cubist sculpture!? How Gehry and his 45 assistants turn those plans into a solid building that can withstand the laws of physics, budget restraints, zoning codes, and other construction headaches, remains a mystery.

This movie plays like an hour long newsreel.

The first section of the film, documents the development of motion pictures. Now, according to Blackman, it was the Ancient Egyptians who first came up with the idea of motion pictures. On each pillar in a temple, there was a carved picture of Isis. Each picture differing slightly from the next. So, if one raced by these pillars in a chariot, there would be a zoetrope effect of a moving picture.

Blackton later covers the discovery of the camera obscura, Eastman's development of film, etc. Each section is dramatized in pantomime, as a loud news announcer explains what we're seeing.

The second section of the film consists of obscure historic footage, i.e. the inauguration of President McKinley, Czar Nicholas I getting into a carriage with his family. Blackton then uses this to segue into showing his own fictional films made during this period.

The narration constantly pokes fun of what's on the screen. An actor's name will be mentioned, followed by "you'll have to ask your father about him." "Is Mary really angry? No! That steam is from an exhaust pipe. Our studio was outside - on the roof of a building." "This is a very expensive set. We even have a piano painted on the wall." An actor sits near the wall, and pretends to play the keys painted on the flat upright wall.

It's intriguing to hear a first-person account from someone who made films at the dawn of the 20th Century. Blackton was acquainted with Edison and FILM PARADE includes footage of them meeting. (Unfortunately, we're not listening to an old man discussing his past. We are hearing the voice of a loud narrator reading commentary written by Blackton.)

The third section of the film includes a sort of silent movie retrospective. Reminds one of the sort of things they show every year at the Oscars. Clips after clip of different movies - with names of the stars on the bottom of the screen, with sentimental music playing. A few of those shown were already deceased by the time this film was made (1933).

It ends with these strange animated illustrations of radio towers. Making a weird claim that every sound ever made can be located and tracked, one day, by beams from large radio towers. "Perhaps we will even be able to hear the voice of Abraham Lincoln." It ends with a memoriam to Thomas Alva Edison.

Edison died in October 1931. Maybe that was the catalyst for this odd meandering, reminiscent film?

This movie is preceded by two written warnings, directly embossed on the screen.

The first is the credit "Reader's Digest Presents." (Quick. Think. What's the last great Reader's Digest film that you've seen?)

The second is the prologue "Sarah Bernhardt was one of the greatest actresses who ever lived. ... This motion picture is a free portrayal of events in her tempestuous early career."

"Free portrayal"? What does this mean?

Well, in this film, Sarah speaks perfect English, complete with British accent (as does her Greek husband.) She performs French classics of the stage - in English. Thirty years go by - and yet no one ages more than a month. Also, rooms are brightly lit, regardless of the fact that there is no electric lighting. And everyone behaves in an overly civil fashion, except Sarah. The more unruly she becomes, the more people idolize her.

Sarah mentions again and again, ad nauseum, that her ambition is to become "the greatest actress ever." How does she accomplish this grand goal? She publicly humiliates the leading actress of the Comedy Francais. And then, after S.B. gives a particularly bad performance, she makes a feeble attempt to commit suicide, by jumping out of a basement window.

The real Bernhardt was an endlessly fascinating character, who was more or less forced into theatre by her mother. To truly understand Bernhardt, you must realize her infinite self-respect, and her never-ending energy, no matter what the endeavor.

The screenwriter has no understanding of these motivations. At one point Sarah attempts to explain her love of acting: "It's the coming alive. Oh, I don't know, really. I... I mean I wish I could explain it. I wish I could. It's...it's something I have to do. I... Oh, I'm not making any sense, am I?" This insight into her character is about as penetrating as a rubber knife.

Did you know the real Bernhardt was the first performer to ever put on a show at the San Quentin prison? She loved people. She cared.

The tireless effort she gave on behalf of wounded soldiers - by turning the Odeon Theatre into a hospital during the Franco-Prussian war - continually rounding up the best supplies, food, and medical care that she could find - is far too understated in this film. S.B. was a true humanitarian and later became a national symbol in France, and deservedly so.

Sadly, never once in this film do we see the French flag. Never once do we hear La Marseillaise.

This movie is not political; it sticks to the Aesthetic school. Art Nouveau dominates every frame of this film. We are hit with a barrage of ornate wallpaper prints, and Victorian costumes. The sets are cluttered with Greek columns, statues, paintings, etchings, and other bric-a-brac. Did I mention the veritable zoo of monkeys, parrots, dogs and even a caged cougar that Sarah keeps in her home? Feels like an extended trip to Hearst's Castle in San Simeon.

"The Incredible Sarah" covers her first acting audition, her early success, the Franco-Prussian War, her marriage, the first tour of England, and ends with the 1890 production of Joan of Arc.

It omits the 1880 tour of America, and her 1872 breakthrough role in Victor Hugo's "Ruy Blas."

I'm sure they meant well by making this movie, but, aside from Glenda Jackson's emotional performance in the "Phedre" and "Joan of Arc" sequences, this film comes off as a bore. Only during the final sequence do we get a slight hint of what it might have been like to see the Divine Sarah perform.

Bernhardt was French. She performed in French. When she was on tour in Britain, in America, in Russia - no matter where she was, Sarah Bernhardt performed in French. Her tumultuous emotion was so intense, it bypassed any language barrier. One could assume a Bernhardt performance was very similar to attending a spoken-word opera.

Her Edison sound recordings reveal a voice as inimitable as Maria Callas. She rolls her 'R's; she has an incredible tremolo. You can plainly hear a feminine quivering in her voice even as she shouts at the top of her lungs.

S.B.'s personal motto was "Quand Meme" - which could be loosely translated as "no matter what." After the amputation of her leg (which occurred years after this film takes place), S.B. mentioned "You remember my motto 'Quand Meme'? In case of necessity, I shall have myself strapped to the scenery." The stage was her battlefield. I recommend you keep Bernhardt's courage in mind. It's the only way to endure this passionless film.

"We are all shipwrecked; but the best of us learn." Brooks quotes a favorite author of hers during a 1976 interview. "The people who think they have things most under control in their lives, end up suffering the most." This hour long documentary covers the entire life of Louise Brooks, arguably, the silent era's most beautiful and most enigmatic actress.

Many friends and contemporaries of Brooks are interviewed. Also included is a 1976 interview with Brooks herself. These clips are bridged by related photos, movie clips, and a narration by Shirley McLaine.

Since this documentary covers 78 years of a person's life in one hour, we are left with a whirlwind of anecdotes, told in chronological order. The overall effect is a heartbreaking story that glosses over its main character, and leaves us with mere fragments: impressions of a person whose essence is never really captured in this film - except in the all-too-brief interview segments with Brooks herself.

"Looking For Lulu" is a fantastic introduction to cinema's quintessential 'flapper' girl. But, if you wish to know what is was like to be in her presence, I'd recommend "Lulu In Berlin," which consists of 50 minutes with the woman herself.

Also recommended is Brooks' book "Lulu In Hollywood."

"Lulu In Berlin" features a rare filmed interview with Louise Brooks. Shot in 1984, just a year before she died, the dancer, turned-actress, turned-dancing instructor, turned writer, discusses her collaboration with G.W. Pabst on the films "Pandora's Box" and "Diary of a Lost Girl." Her interviewer is a film historian who is very articulate, but seems very tense, and uptight, sitting so near his cinematic idol. Brooks is very laid back as she speaks into a large desk microphone, relating her film career adventures. Her interview overlaps production photos from the shoot, as well as footage from her other films.

Aside from Pabst, she mentions meeting Rene Clair, and critiques her rivals: Marlene Dietrich, Greta Garbo, and Leni Riefenstahl. "Lulu In Berlin" is a marvelous 50 minute visit with a fascinating actress.

My only complaint, if there is one, is that the interview footage plays like a formal interview - and is not quite as relaxed as two friends talking together. Luckily, Brooks loves telling stories, and does not appear impeded whatsoever by her clinical surroundings.

Andrew Sarris once noted that the classic film "Casablanca is the happiest of accidents." After watching this interview, one feels Brook's acting career was, for us, "the happiest of accidents." She claims she HATED seeing herself on the screen, knew nothing about acting, and called the acting profession "legalized slavery." She only felt happy dancing, and writing. I feel we're very fortunate that she made a career tangent into films, no matter how brief.

Also - anyone who loves this documentary - should check out the book Brooks wrote about the silent era. Good stuff.

***note - may contain spoilers ***

The one redeeming sequence in this 1963 remake is the Masked Ball scene. Judex appears as a guest, with a large pigeon's head covering his own. He produces bird after bird as entertainment for the masked guests. This scene serves as a prime example of how the rest of the film should have been staged i.e. heavy on music and visuals, and light on dialogue.

But, the bulk of the film has a boring, unimaginative soundtrack of silence, or words, and more words. Semi-closeups of people talking, talking, talking. Give me the silent version of JUDEX any day.

Even the framing of the shots cut down on the entertainment value.

Example: In the original Louis Feuillade JUDEX, a woman, walking across a bridge, is captured by two men. They throw a hood over her head, wrap it tight with a rope around her neck. Cut to shot of them tossing the body into the river. This is CLEARLY seen, no confusing close shots cutting out valuable information. You SEE a body fall off a high bridge into a river. CUT TO: Two kids fishing in a boat on the river. One kid catches something, starts reeling it in - it's some unidentifiable sack. They pull it ashore. Looks like a body. "Licorice Kid" removes the rope around the victim's neck - pulls off the hood, and realizes - in shock, that it is his sidekick's mother.

That's from the original - the sequence is amazing, and unforgettable.

The 1963 remake has it like this. Two guys nicely dressed, lean over the edge of a bridge. (There is no water visible in this shot) "I don't know - it doesn't look like she'll sink into the river. She's still floating." The two men exchange a look of concern. Cut to close shot of blonde actress floating in water. We clearly see her face, eyes closed. She appears quite relaxed - one presumes she is in the river the two men were talking about. Cut to shot of two kids in a boat. One ribs the other, pointing to woman floating in river. She's brought to shore.

See the difference? There's intrigue and mystery and a real sense of danger in the original silent, which is just not there in the 1963 version.

The 1963 version plays like a Vanity Fair advert in motion. Yes, it's all very slick, like Jules Dassin directing an episode of "The Avengers." What drives me insane are the 1960's hairstyles in a movie supposedly set in 1917.

Whatever.

The 1916/1917 silent serial is a masterpiece. See it. And if you're still hungry for more, catch this (1963) version.

(NOTE - "JUDEX34" is a 1934 remake that's supposedly quite good - directed by Maurice Champreaux, the son-in-law of Louis Feuillade. Unfortunately, "JUDEX34" is not available on video at the moment.)

The surname of our main characters, Myra and Bill, is "Savage." Although they are about as frightening as sloths bathing in the summer sun.

The movie begins in a dark room, lit by one candle, a circle of people around a table, all eyes closed - Myra, talking - going into some emotional fervor. And that's it. The shades are pulled open. The candle blown out. Myra obviously eschews, bell boxes, spirit trumpets, and anything that might make a great show for her paying guests. I must admit, if I attended one of Myra's séances, I would have found it all dull, dreary, and uninspiring, like a wet afternoon.

Hence her dilemma. She wants fame, fortune, and validity as a "true" seer. She needs to prove to the world that her psychic powers are legitimate.

What follows is a drawn out exposition scene between Myra and Bill. Discussing plans. Establishing her very forgetful, pre-occupied character. She accuses Bill of turning off the record-player moments after Myra herself turned it off.

He defends himself weakly. And caves in. "Oh yes," Bill remembers, "I must have turned it off myself."

Myrna: "You know how weak you are. You know how much you need me." Bill just nods to this comment. Agreeing with her every delusion.

It's the twisted relationship - a dramatic idea so popular in dramas from the Late 1950's - Mid 1960's. (Think "Sweet Smell of Success", "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?", And "Whatever Happened To Baby Jane?") Myra wears the pants in this marriage, and you know this is dangerous, when she is so clearly out of her mind. (And manipulated by an unseen presence named "Arthur.")

She concocts this hare-brained "borrowing a child" scheme. The word "kidnapping" is taboo in the Savage household. The idea is that a prominent citizen's child goes missing (with Bill Savage's help) and Myra will offer her profoundly accurate psychic abilities to the bereaved parents - revealing the exact location of the child.

What makes this film interesting, is Bill's non-devotion to this plan - his squeamishness about the "borrowing of a child" idea - and his constant consideration to back out of this nonsense at any moment.

I must say, though, this film moves slowly enough, and Bill is real enough - that you can really empathize with this character - and by the time Bill is forced to pick up the ransom money - the whole experience becomes quite nerve-wracking. (This is the most believable money hand-off sequence I've ever seen - and it's done without any dialogue.)

Tensions rise as Bill gets more edgy, and Myra begins demanding more than what Bill bargained for. And it's up to him to finally take a stand. This movie comes down to Myra and Bill's relationship. The whole kidnapping plot is a bit weak - and the séance scenes inspire no fear or awe. It's a twisted relationship film, with a British drawing room bent.