Vic Sage

finally caught up with it and it was worth it. especially beautiful was the moment near the very end where Damon, finally coming to terms with his wife's death and able to think and speak about her, brings his kids to the coffee shop where they met and literally conjures her up for his children. Rarely has the power of storytelling been so movingly depicted. If only there were more such moments of magical realism, or even just simple emotional transcendence, in the film, I'd have given it more than 3***, but alas the movie was mostly Disney sweet and Hollywood obvious, and i wanted to kill the son with a blunt instrument.

as noted in the thread i posted

video on prometheus plotholes: http://nerdapproved.com/movies/all-the-plot-holes-and-stupid-moves-from-prometheus-at-once-video/

we discussed movie remakes of TV shows here: http://archives.cranepoolforum.net/4100/f11_t4147.shtml

one of the worst. movies. ever. made. period.

Frayed Knot wrote: Vic Sage wrote: i have a love/hate thing with Anderson's films. I loved RUSHMORE and LIFE AQUATIC, but hated TANNENBAUMS and DARJEELING. I didn't see MR. FOX or BOTTLE ROCKET. I suspect that yours is a minority viewpoint. Seems like the type of filmmaker that fans either love or hate, but rarely both. i don't know; i suspect that Anderson is such a unique artist that i don't think there is a "majority" viewpoint about his work. I think audience reaction varies widely from film to film, despite a consistency of tone in his work.

i have a love/hate thing with Anderson's films. I loved RUSHMORE and LIFE AQUATIC, but hated TANNENBAUMS and DARJEELING. I didn't see MR. FOX or BOTTLE ROCKET. The trailer for this one makes it seem appealingly off-beat, which is what Anderson is at his best.

While watching, I also wondered about why they tried to escape from under the falling ship by moving straight instead of sideways. to be sure, its not the only or first film in which this happens. But it drives me crazy whenever i see it. "MAKE A RIGHT!", i yell. But the characters resist my declamations. Except here, the dragon tattoo girl actually DOES roll to the right and out of the path of the falling ship, so clearly its a concept that exists in their universe, which makes Ms. Theron's decision to cling to parallelism even more inexplicable.

for an earlier discussion of Ridley's work, including discussion of a "planned Alien prequel", go here: http://cranepoolforum.net/phpbb2/viewtopic.php?t=7590

if you didn't like it that much, why'd you give it an "8"?

i would appreciate it if Sir Ridley just stopped making movies. This was as big, stupid, and stupifyingly pointless as any movie i've ever seen from him, and that's saying quite a bit. The film's horrific elements are ones he's used before; nothing new or innovative there. The theological/philosophical musings are banal, half-baked inanities. The characters are largely ignored, which is ok, cuz most of the performances suck anyway. Noomi Rapace (so good as the original girl with the dragon tattoo) does the best she can as the "true believer" (believer of what? who knows), but when she starts running all over the place immediately after having emergency stomach surgery, things get just too ridiculous (didn't anybody working on this film realize that surgically severed stomach muscles tend to be a hindrance to locomotion?). Guy Pearce is wasted under a ton of LITTLE BIG MAN age makeup (they could have cast his orthopedist in the role, for all it would've mattered). Charlize Theron is doing entirely too many "evil blonde ice queen" roles. And Charlize, take a tip from Noomi... when something huge, long and relatively narrow is falling straight down on top of you in a line, don't run straight ahead; just make a left. or a right. either way. And what is the guy from the WIRE doing here, talking about Stephen Stills' accordian? And if you were a scientist who was too scared to stay in the presence of a dead alien, so much so that you and another chicken scientist decided to walk back to the ship without waiting for the others in the party, and then you and your chicken buddy get stuck in the alien underground to wait out a storm, would you really go up to an alien worm/snake/serpent thingy rising up out of alien black goo and go "cootchy coo" while trying to pet it? REALLY? Ridley, your narrative sense was always borderline non-existent, but you've gone completely round the bend, without even visual innovation to distract us. You ain't great, Scott. Go back to commercials for the BBC and leave us the hell alone.

I just went to see a double feature at the Film Forum, which is running a "spaghetti western" film festival. No, i didn't check out any of the Leone films; i've seen them all, and own them on DVD. No need to rush out and see them in the shitbox that is the FF. I wanted to see some i haven't seen, ones that aren't particularly available in the U.S., so I saw 2 films by the OTHER "Sergio", Sergio Corbucci, THE GREAT SILENCE (1969) and COMPANEROS (1970). COMPANEROS is a "zapata western" [like Corbucci's earlier MERCANARY (1968)], taking place during the Mexican Revolution. Franco Nero is "the swede", an amoral gun runner, and Tomas Milian is the bandito-turned-revolutionary who reluctantly partners with him to fetch "the professor" (Fernando Rey), a Christ/Gandhi-like non-violent revolutionary, at the behest of an opportunistic general who wants to use the professor to access a safe full of treasure. Fearing the professor might lead the peasants and students in a true revolution that would take over the oil industry, venal industrialists hire Jack Palance (a sniggering, pot-smoking, vulture-wielding killer) to kill the professor before he can be returned to the general by Nero and Milian. COMPANEROS is really a buddy movie of sorts, as Nero and Milian bond on the road with the professor, and are radicalized by the journey. Its darkly funny at times, violent always, and uses religious iconography to give its radical political ideology more emotional punch. But its ideology is muddled; it deifies the professor but also suggests that his non-violence is naive and out-of-date, even as the violent methods employed by Milian and Nero are doomed in the end, as they race headlong against overwhelming forces. There are some interesting things in the movie, but its visual style is pedestrian at best, and the Morricone score is not up to the master's usual standards. Milian is great, but the rest of the cast not so much. Nero in particular is given little development and lacks the Eastwoodian charisma necessary to pull off the character. Overall, a bit of a disappointment. THE GREAT SILENCE, however, is seriously wacked out. No less political and even more bleak, it is more extreme in every way. Here the hero is not only a man of few words, he is a mute, played by Jean Louis Trintingant with square-jawed good looks and a deadly Mauser he uses to kill bounty hunters. Klaus Kinski is the mad-eyed bounty hunter antagonist, and their conflict plays out in a small town and the surrounding snowy mountains of Utah (actually, Northern Italy), with the kind of windblown, off-white melancholic atmosphere you'd expect in that landscape. It is overlong and generally humorless, with ham-fisted dialogue (even by spaghetti western standards), yet the movie is stark, chilling and affecting nonetheless, with its dark ending unusually disturbing.

First of all, I had already edited my post before you responded, because i too felt that the Nietzche discussion was unneccessary and that, while still feeling it was necessary to note your plagiarism (in a post busy casting aspersions about moral accountability), i didn't want to make so much of it. If you can't explain to me why the Gallipoli identity should be viewed as more inherently Australian than French or British, without blugeoning me to death with Nietzsche then this conversation is uninteresting to me. I wasn't asserting that it was more inherently Australian; neither was Weir, as far as i can see from all the way over here. That debate is, as i said, an internal one going on within your own culture. What i was responding to were the characters and themes of the work presented, which was laudatory about the soldiers. What you are asserting is that, by being laudatory about the white males fighting the fight, it was necessarily being derogatory about everybody else not shown in the film. Which may play well in the hipster bars of Sydney but i think is entirely spurious. Like all those pesky Jews in Germany in the 40's. yeah, when you go there, you lose all credibility. see Godwin's Law, from your favorite source, Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Godwin%27s_law also, Reductio ad Hitlerum -- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reductio_ad_Hitlerum

I have no particular knowledge or insight into Australasian culture in general, or "Anzac spirit" in particular, nor its internal debates about race, gender, national identity, etc., but i don't think they are unique in having such tensions, nor in having myths about who they are as a people. Never having heard of this "anzac spirit" thing, i looked it up (though I found much in your post to have been lifted directly from Wikipedia, without attribution in some instances, i don't wish to get us sidetracked by that issue). It seems to me that the "anzac myth" is like many of the myths of western civilization with which I am familiar; it's a cultural myth of martial values. As such, it seems to this outsider as one that is more positive and benign than the Spartan myths, for example, and those of Imperial Rome that followed. That being said, i can understand if some within the culture find the myth exclusionary or otherwise politically unacceptable to them at this point in history. But if Weir must be "made accountable" for reviving such a myth, so then must Homer, John Ford, Geoffrey of Monmouth, and all the rest of the canon. And maybe they should be, too. But for every myth there evolves a counter-myth; a critique that evolves to either dubunk, limit, undermine or contextualize the prevailing myth. The disenfranchised in a culture always have an incentive to undermine the dominant mythology that they believe is oppressing them, but that doesn't make them necessarily "right", nor the myth-makers necessarily wrong, or held "accountable" (or any more accountable than any of their critics, at least). But that is the discussion that culture has with itself, and history is then rewritten by the victor. In any event, to assert a myth of martial virtue is not the same thing as "jingoism". To assert that your soldiers presented certain positive character traits when confronting combat is not the same thing as advocating that they go to war. But i look forward to seeing work by any filmmakers taking on the Anzac myth with a counter-myth of their own, if they can present it in as beautifully moving a way as Weir did. And the only thing for which i'll hold them accountable is the same standard by which i judge Weir... the craft and conviction evident in their film.

The running sequences were great, scored to Jarre's electronic OXYGENE. It's sort of interesting to note that earlier that same year (1981), CHARIOTS OF FIRE was released, featuring great running sequences with Vangelis' Oscar-winning electronic score. It was a great year for electronic running music.

The Second Spitter wrote: Gallipoli is reviled by British military people for certain historical "liberties". Not Pearl Harbour bad, but even the tour guide at the Australian War Memorial called it "rubbish". Admittedly Weir does go a bit overboard with jingoism. Mosquito Coast was a great missed opportunity of text I love. I'm sure it's not as historically factual as pro-military folk can reasonably assert; I'm also sure it's truthful nonetheless. But I'm not sure how Weir is going "overboard with jingoism"; my feeling was that the film is actually anti-jingoistic, challenging the military zeal of the Australian high command in their willingness to put their troops in harm's way as scapegoats and cannon fodder for the British. It's an anti-war film; how is that "jingoistic"? It was certainly nationalistic, in the depictions of the willing martyrdom of the soldiers, and the generally burnished and nostalgic vision of Australian life at that time, but you can support the troops, and the national character, without supporting the war or being a proponent of it, as "jingoism" would require.

i saw it on cable, and so had little investment. it did not offend me. i was moderately engaged by the story. I would give it 2 1/2 * to 3 *. Sorry, but it engendered no great insights, no rage, no love.

Lurhmann can't help himself, can he? At least it looks energetic and flashy, which ain't a bad atmosphere for the roaring 20s. I still can't buy DiCaprio as a grownup, but Toby Macguire is always a good idea.

i didn't think it was bad as all that. I preferred the SEABISCUIT movie, but this sort of stolid, self-consciously earnest movie has its place. It's well crafted, at least.

i wanted to see it cuz i'm a huge Crowe fan, but he hasn't been good in a while, and i wasn't able to talk my kids into this one, but i'll catch it on cable eventually. For more on Crowe, see my ALMOST FAMOUS review (which includes comments on his earlier films) viewtopic.php?f=11&t=9063&p=221459#p221459

done. get me a publisher. you can have 10% of the nothing i'll get for them.

Given how visual a filmmaker he is, Weir has had a pretty good track record with actors, even rivaling Pollack and Lumet.

Weir filmography: viewtopic.php?f=11&t=17919

The films of Peter Weir Peter Lindsay Weir (b.1944) is an Australian filmmaker of limited output and limitless talent and imagination. A poet of magical realism, he finds the mysterious in the mundane, sees the heroism in the outsider, and the greatness in the primitive. He speaks of the spiritual dangers to the individual, particularly in "progress" and reliance on technology and the consequent loss of mystery in our universe. He started out in Aussie TV, documentaries and short films in the `60s and `70s, before making a string of feature films of great critical acclaim that helped launch the "Australian New Wave", along with filmmakers Bruce Beresford, Gillian Armstrong, George Miller and Phillip Noyce, making Australia an important exporter of movies to the International markets (especially the U.S.). The Australian films: The Cars That Ate Paris (aka The Cars That Eat People) (1974) - His first feature, a low-budget black comedy/horror film about a small town that caused car accidents and lived off the consequences. The film's unique POV has allowed it to develop a cult following, but it was badly shot and recorded, and looks and sounds like crap. Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975) - Victorian school girls disappear after a picnic in the outback; it's slow, ponderous, and deeply profound. It establishes many themes he'd return to -- the dichotomy between westerners and the natural world (including aboriginal peoples); the existence of unanswerable mystery; sexual longing; effects of tragedy on communities. It's also beautifully shot and scored. It's languorous pacing and refusal to provide easy answers doomed it to marginality but is a beautiful piece of art nonetheless. The Last Wave (1977) - A rational man is confronted with the irrational -- a premonition of impending disaster. Richard Chamberlain is the lawyer for an aboriginal defendant in a murder trial. His life spirals out of control as dreams and premonitions take him over. Again, Weir is dealing with the mysterious in the mundane, but this time gives an answer -- it's just not a very happy one. To call it dreamlike is to be redundant. Gallipoli (1981) - Weir offers us an emotional and visually arresting WWI epic based on historical events, suggesting again much that was in HANGING ROCK -- the same 1900s era, Victorian culture and rituals, and a profound loss of innocence for young protagonists. This same lost innocence is suffered by the nation as a result of the use by the Brits of the Australian forces as cannon fodder in the war against the Turks. It features a young Mel Gibson (best known at that point for MAD MAX, the first of which did not get much play outside Australia), a terrific score (particularly the use of the electronic music from Jarre's "OXYGENE" during the running scenes), and a heartbreaking condemnation of nationalism and militarism. Hollywood: GALLIPOLI is often ranked as the greatest film to come out of the Australian New Wave (then or since), and it would be hard to argue, even if I were inclined to do so -- and I'm not. Its international success allowed Weir to move his career outside of Australia and so began his Int'l/US filmmaking career. The Year of Living Dangerously (1982) - An international co-production, Gibson returns as Weir's outsider looking at a non-western culture through his western eyes. The political intrigue of 60s Jakarta is background for the romance between Gibson's foreign correspondent and Sigourney Weaver's Brit diplomat, with Linda Hunt's Oscar-winning performance as the Chinese-Australian "fixer" who befriends Gibson; her portrayal introduces the spiritual mysteries so prevalent in Weir's work, yet Hunt's performance transcends mere symbolism and invests the movie with a humanity that resonates when she/he confronts a betrayal that results in tragedy. If the movie doesn't quite work, and it doesn't, it�s not for lack of ambition. Witness (1985) - Weir hits the motherlode in Hollywood with Harrison Ford as a cop, the rational westerner, among the primitives (this time, the Amish). The purity of their communal values heal him, and redeem him, and make him fit for heroic action. But like Ethan Edwards in THE SEARCHERS, he is a man of violence, and while he is necessary to protect the community, he can never be a part of it. The movie works as "star-crossed lovers" tale, too, with Kelly McGillis never better as the hot Amish fraulein awakened to her own sexuality by the outsider. Russian dancer Alexander Godunov gives a strikingly strong supporting performance, as well, striding through the wheat fields that move like ocean waves. And the wide eyes of Lukas Haas are practically a special effect of innocence. In what could have just been another cop-movie shoot-em-up, Weir transcended the genre. He and the film were nominated for a hatful of Oscars, and it was his biggest BO hit to that point, establishing him as a "Hollywood filmmaker". The Mosquito Coast (1986) - Reteaming with Ford, Weir once again puts the western man into a primitive world. Ford, working with a great cast including Helen Mirren and River Phoenix, realistically renders an intensely unlikeable character whose obsessions leave his family nearly destroyed in a central American jungle, as his inventions destroy the utopia he had hoped to establish there. Fraught with imagery and emotion, the movie offers no connection to an audience, demonstrating Weir's Achilles Heal as a storyteller -- the propensity to sacrifice character and narrative for visuals and themes and, in so doing, leaving the audience behind. Where PICNIC was ponderous, COAST is turgid; where WAVE was dreamlike, COAST is feverish and incoherent; where YEAR is mythic, COAST is dull; and where WITNESS is romantic, COAST is depressing. Probably the biggest misfire for both Weir and Ford�s careers to that point. Dead Poets Society (1989) � Weir bounced back from COAST with a well manicured depiction of oh so safe youthful nonconformity at a private school, with Robin Williams doing one of his �serious� roles as a poetry teacher urging his youthful charges to �seize the day�. The film is well shot, but too polite by half. Still, it was hugely successful and acclaimed, award-winning too, and not too bad an example of the �great teacher� sub-genre. Still, it indicates a direction towards audience pleasing that had been noticeably absent from Weir�s career to that point� a tendency that would ebb and flow over the following years, and not always to the benefit of his films. Green Card (1990) � In full blown �audience pleasing� mode, Weir made this slight romantic comedy with the great French actor, Gerard Depardieu, whose English was only slightly better than that of model/actress Andie McDowell. Weir is to comedy what dancing is to architecture. Fearless (1993) � Weir bounces back once again with his best film since WITNESS. This time he guides Jeff Bridges through the unspoken mysteries of existence, as the survivor of an airplane crash whose new sense of invincibility has distanced him from his family even as it�s bonded him to fellow survivor Rosie Perez, giving an Oscar-nominated performance. This is Weir at his most heartachingly profound. The Truman Show (1998) � Jim Carrey is perfectly cast as the unwitting star of a reality series about his life since birth. Weir�s satire brilliantly balances the mundane and the fantastic, the comic and melodramatic, the real and the unreal, and by so doing, created a prophetic condemnation of media control of culture. It�s also another example of Weir�s plea for youthful nonconformity in the face of society�s oppressive forces, a drum he�d been beating since PICNIC. With all this going on, the film is surprisingly restrained and grown up, and features one of Carrey�s best performances. Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World (2003) � Back to audience pleasing, this time with Russell Crowe in the Mel Gibson swashbuckling role, Weir tries to pull off epic sea adventure series with sequel potential, but can�t help subverting his efforts by employing ambivalent characters with other things on their mind. As a result, it was less successful than it might otherwise have been, and no sequels resulted. It is a solid entertainment, though, but it�s an incongruent work from Weir, with its square-jawed support of the military elite very much at odds with his work on GALLIPOLI. It feels like a work-for-hire project he did for the money, with little connection to the themes in his other films. After many years of projects that failed to develop, the only film Weir has made in the last decade was The Way Back (2010), a film he wrote and directed based on a true story about a group of WWII prisoners escaping Siberia on a 4,000 mile trek through harsh environs. I have not seen it, but its critical reputation is that of an unrelenting, austere epic of survival, but Colin Ferrell is no Gibson or Crowe, and it's felt that, ultimately, its lack of characterization or emotional resonance did it in for audiences who virtually ignored it. But even as he approaches 70, Peter Weir remains one of cinema's true visionaries -- an artist painting images of magic and daring on a broad canvas -- and i always look forward to the next one. He�s just been announced as helmer for a contemporary gothic thriller called "The Keep," adapting Jennifer Egan's 2006 bestseller. http://www.variety.com/article/VR1118054327, scheduled to start shooting next spring, but we�ll see. It sounds like promising material for him, but his projects have a way of falling apart. With only 13 films in his 37 year career to date, Weir has been less than prolific, but, as Spencer Tracey said of Katherine Hepburn (in PAT & MIKE), �there ain�t much meat on her, but what�s there is cherce.�

i like Oldman, when he's making the effort to restrain himself, but i have no patience for cold war thrillers. they generally don't thrill me at all, with some exceptions (DAY OF THE CONDOR comes to mind; maybe the ODESSA FILE).