Saturday, November 11, 2017

WHAT MAKES A MEMORABLE DIRECTOR?

Going to break my format for my last blog post and talk about separates good director from a memorable one. I think one of the reasons I routinely go back and watch a Tarantino film or a Paul Thomas Anderson film or a David Fincher film is that, not only are they all around entertaining and insightful movies, but I also feel like their directors are communicating something about themselves within each film; something about their past or their personaility or their interpretation of something.

A good director is serviceable and inoffensive, they don't make waves one way or another. They facilitate. Great directors elevate whatever material they're working with to a cinematic level. Even if the script itself is already award-worthy, it's still just words on a page. It takes a vision and a will to raise to new heights. 

Recently I've been on a P.T. Anderson kick, especially with Phantom Thread only a month-and-a-half away. The commonality I'm finding throughout Anderson's work is that he's very good at making things feel grand. I've not seen Hard Eight, but Boogie Nights, Punch-Drunk Love and Magnolia especially all feel epic in scale, in my opinion, despite their relatively humble settings. It's one reason that There Will Be Blood really stands out among Anderson's filmography, as the director had already had over ten years' practice making small things feel big so when he finally got the chance to tell a true American epic, it was a spectacle.

Sometimes, it just comes down to luck. As a writer and/or director, you obviously never know what's going to resonate. For instance, Richard Kelly, whose directorial debut, Donnie Darko, was a noteworthy indie hit. Kelly by all rights, had the same amount of promise as any of my aforementioned favorite directors and should still be making noteworthy films but after his two follow-up films, the incomprehensible Southland Tales and the tepid The Box, Kelly has virtually vanished from the entertainment world.

I'm not an expert or especially knowledgeable on the subject, I just thought I'd muse on what separates the memorable from the forgotten. Also, can't wait to see Phantom Thread!

Thursday, November 9, 2017

THE KILLING OF A SACRED DEER (2017)

When I started this blog, I assumed I would only be writing about films that had had an impact on me which were released, at the very leastm a year or two before the present day. But, having just seen Yorgos Lanthimos' The Killing of a Sacred Deer, I can't think of a film released recently that has stayed with me so much.

I'll do my best to keep major plotpoints out of this write-up and focus on how the film made me feel and what I gleaned from it. For the sake of context, though, the film is essentially a revenge story involving Colin Farrell, his family, and a teenaged boy played by Barry Koeghan. Part tragedy, part thriller and part black comedy, The Killing of a Sacred Deer is impossible to pin down into one genre as it drifts between all three of these, sometimes invoking all of them at the same time.


Lanthimos's idisyncratic dialogue is like an alien's impression of what humans sound like. Often it's hilarious. Similar to his previous films, Dogtooth and The Lobster, this is a world without emotional guilt or many social boundaries. People do what is most logical, even if it is in stark contrast with what they want. 

The world of Sacred Deer, begs to be explored further. Not that it is undereveloped, but there is clearly a major societal difference between this world and our own with an undoudbetly fascinating backstory. It's refreshing to see such a wildly unique take on societal norms. It's an example of world-building without unnecessary flash.  

Lanthimos's work isn't afraid to embrace tragedy and let things end on a dower, uncertain note. Where most films use tragedy to motivate characters and plot points, Lanthimos' characters are perfectly (mostly?) happy and it is the result of both their choices and fate that bring them to an ultimately tragic climax.

I genuinely laughed harder during this film than any comedy released in recent memory. It's an odd film and I quite loved it.

Thursday, November 2, 2017

WHIPLASH (2014)


On paper, a film about a jazz drummer and his volatile conductor doesn't feel like one of the most gripping stories of the decade, but what's so fantastic about Damien Chazelle's sophmore outing (Guy and Madeline on a Park Bench being his first feature) is that it tosses aside all preconceived notions about a movie set in a jazz conservatory and flings them out the window in a fit of howling rage.

Despite its insultaed setting, Whiplash deals with themes everyone can relate to; desire versus talent; coaching versus bullying; sacrifice versus self-destruction. J.K. Simmons and Miles Teller have palpable chemistry and an extremely layered dynamic that, to my mind, has never been achieved in such grandiose fashion before in film.

Chazelle isn't afraid to be tough on his characters and clearly revels in pitting them against one another, drawing as much drama as possible from their conflict. More on the subject of Teller and Simmons' student/teacher relationship, the fact that they essentially both want the same thing makes their clash so much more satisfying because, ultimately, they just have different methods of going about it. Teller's Andrew desperately wants to be a great musician and Simmons' Fletcher desperately wants to be a great musician's teacher.

For me, what is especially inspiring about this film is that it creates spectacle and atmosphere with a modest setting and a small cast. This is something all filmmakers should aspire to achieve; making a film FEEL big even if it doesn't LOOK big. This is largely achieved by, in addition to the leads' brilliant performances, the sharp, precicse cinematography and razor sharp editing. Editor Tom Cross's Academy Award was well earned for Whiplash's beauitfully assembled final cut.

I love this film because it is so outside of what would normally be in my purview. It's not quite like anything I've seen before which works entirely to its advantage. Within its first five minutes, Chazelle establishes the central conflict of the film, as well as Teller and Simmons' core motivations. Between this, Guy and Madeline, La La Land and the upcoming Neil Armstrong biopic, First Man, Chazelle has already has a magnificent filmography and a bright future ahead.