Rivers and Tides (2001)

It is often the case that the medium through which one expresses themselves says more about both the work and the artist than the piece itself (ask McLuhan). Had Carolee Schneeman made hip-hop or David Byrne become a sculptor, their work and the discourse surrounding them would be totally different, even if her lyrics were that of "Interior Scroll" or the form of his sculpture evoked the mid-life ennui of "Once in a Lifetime". Rarely have I seen such a synthesis of medium and message as that evidenced by the works of Andy Goldsworthy, the subject of Thomas Riedelsheimer's documentary Rivers and Tides.

The film follows Goldsworthy as he travels into the wilderness to create works of art utilizing only the elements of nature.

Rivers and Tides does wonders with its simple premise; the camera simple observes as Goldsworthy painstakingly piles rocks or strings together leaves with pine needles. His work is meant to invoke the spirit of nature that flows through everything and everyone, and is more often than not personified as a wavy form reminiscent of a sidewinder snake. The film is largely about the creative process, and Andy's failures are just as affecting as his completed pieces. To see him put what seems to be his entire being into a complex mesh of free-hanging twigs only for the one over zealous addition and a gust of wind to turn it into a pile of sticks on the ground is nothing if not utterly devastating (think about how you feel after spending hours setting up a Domino Rally only to knock to table or accidentally hit the wrong domino with your ring finger). However these would-have been pieces make the successful works that much more breathtaking. I don't want to spoil too many more of the works shown in Rivers, suffice to say they are stunning achievements, representing the absolute pinnacle of harmony between man and nature. All of Goldsworthy's pieces are temporary and fluid, but Rivers and Tides is sure to stick in your mind for a long time. A-

Other semi-related thoughts:

-There seems to be a conflict in Goldsworthy's art; if it is in part about the beauty of nature, shouldn't nature alone suffice without a human's assistance? But I guess we're a part of nature too. Art, huh.

Hoop Reality out on DVD and Blu-Ray Tuesday

The Arthur Agee produced Hoop Dreams semi-sequel Hoop Reailty, which catches up with the former Marshall High School star and current blog banner luminary, is set to drop on Tuesday after a disappointingly limited festival run. The film also does a little mini-Hoop Dreams with up-and-comer Patrick Beverly, a graduate of the Marshall basketball program who recently forwent an opportunity to play with the Heat to sign with Olympiakos in Greece. I pre-ordered Reality off amazon as my first Blu-ray purchase (for some reason its cheaper, win-win). Needless to say, as a guy who wishes Steve James had made Hoop Dreams with the intention of turning it into a Seven Up!, I'm a little excited; expect a review whenever the mail allows me to write it.

Barstool Cowboy

The DIY spirit is alive and well in todays generation of would-be filmmakers inspired by the success of such notables as David Lynch and Allison Anders and enabled by new technologies and social factors. As a result of the democratization of film production and distribution we now have access to a plethora of movies that ten years ago wouldn't have even existed. Furthermore, the global village is at its most interconnected point yet (and will only continue to grow), facilitating dialogue between people who would never have met. These are the circumstances that brought me to Mark Thimijin's Barstool Cowboy.

Cowboy centers on Mick (you know, like Mick Jagger) who after having his heart broken, vows to stay on a barstool for three months in hopes of forgetting the woman who left him. He quickly breaks his promise to himself when a young art student, Arcy, chooses the bar as the subject for a drawing, prompting Mick to confront her. The two strike up an acquaintanceship, and quickly become entangled in each other's lives.

EDIT: Its 2012, and I have always regretted putting up a harsh review of this movie. The guy reached out to me get his film seen and have some press and picked me cause I had been writing reviews diligently for maybe a month over the summer before my senior year of college. Once school started though I found I didnt have as much time for reviews and just stopped. I don;t eve know if I could do it this competently anymore...at any rate Mark made a whole fuckin feature film, released it and had the courage to reach out to me in an effort to expand the films audience, and those things are admirable to me, so i say A-OK

Other semi-related thoughts:

-check out Barstool Cowboy on netflix

-sorry its been so long since i last posted, I think living in california makes me dumber.

-"kissing a man without a beard is like eating porridge with no salt" <--truth div="div">

Brother's Keeper (1992)

Most documentaries strive for impartiality, and there are varying theories on the best way to achieve an "accurate" depiction of reality. Though some films claim a higher degree of objectivity than others, it is an impossible game to play, for documentaries are inherently subjective as a result of the presence of the filmmaker. Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinosky's film Brother's Keeper manages to tread the line of partiality just about as well as I have seen done in a documentary, really freeing the viewer to make their own opinions about the events of the film.

Brother's Keeper is set in rural New York and follows Adelbert Ward and his two brothers Roscoe and Lyman as they get tangled up in a media frenzy when Adelbert is charged with killing the fourth Ward brother, William. We meet the Wards as the accused brother awaits trial and the film follows them all the way through the verdict.

The filmmakers don't take the verité approach and pretend that they aren't making a movie; we hear their voices directly address their subject, even going as far as to ask Adelaide what his thoughts are about their making of this documentary. The film and its players speak very candidly about the circumstances surrounding William's death, the sordid details of which may have been omitted by others who might have made the same film as a defense for Adelaide. It is hard not to root for our hapless protagonist though, after all the Brother's Keeper is about him, but the film's evenhanded approach keeps us from ever really feeling comfortable picking sides. A good way to examine Brother's Keeper is against the mainstream media's coverage of the Ward case. In the film, none other than Connie Chung devotes a profile story to the Wards, depicting them outright as primitive, backwards and operating on a different value set than that employed by society. The nightly news tells you what to think about these men, defining their circumstances as indicative of their rural lifestyle, while the film allows the opportunity to facilitate some kind of understanding, allowing the Wards and their community's warmth to shine through. It is a warmth tempered by the law enforcement element of the case, who are depicted neither as righteous nor inept, juts simply as the opposing side to Adelaide (though a recurrent theme in the interviews with the townsfolk is that they represent Urbania's attack on rural America). Brother's Keeper is fraught with quirk and charm unique to a documentary about something as macabre as murder trial; another dichotomy expertly balanced by the filmmakers. B+

Other Semi-related Thoughts:

-For some good docs that play with the idea of partiality and the nature of documentary filmmaking, check out F for Fake or The Gleaners and I.

-I mean I know its different out there, but please can you not grow a beard thats a spit trap for your chew tobacco. As someone with a beard, this really bothered me more than anything else.

Repulsion (1965)

Hands and hambones, sisters and solitude, cracking minds and cracking walls; these are the ingredients that make up Roman Polanski's Bunuelian chamber drama. The story of one woman's self-imposed isolation and her resulting decent into insanity is at once gripping and unsettling; we are never quite sure what to make of a particular action or event, at least at first, but it is almost as if we are the protagonist so there is no hope of letting go.

Young and aloof, Belgian Carol (the beautiful Catherine Deneuve) works at a beauty salon and lives with her sister Helen (Yvonne Furneaux) in mod sixties London. She is utterly uninterested in men and their constant advances and only seems comfortable in the presence of other women. When her sister leaves with her lover for a vacation in Italy, leaving Carol alone at her apartment, she starts to lose it a little bit, descending into the darkest recesses of her suppressed subconscious.

Like Polanski's other work in the genre, Repulsion is subtle in its horror, though though are some truly terrifying moments. Carol's madness is shocking, unique and wholly disturbing, as well as indecipherable from reality, and no one, not even our poor protagonist, knows what to make of it. The film is an examination of a kind of reverse xeno-phobia; a woman outside her homeland (and perhaps her sexuality) crumbling against the weight of adapting or accepting her adulthood. As Carol begins to inhabit her own world, eventually never leaving the apartment where she keeps a dead bunny her sister cooked as a surrogate for her presence, the viewer becomes the only other inhabitant (well there is one more, but lets not spoil things). Suffice to say, though it's not the most comfortable world in which to live, its one you wont regret visiting. A-

Other semi-related thoughts.

-Cannot rep Inland Empire enough; if you like either of these films check out the other.

-The hamboning is fucking fantastic

-Really cool mod Jazz score by Chico Hamilton

It Might Get Loud

I'm sure many rock fans are looking forward to David Guggenheim's (An Inconvenient Truth) latest documentary, a profile of three generations of guitar luminaries. Jimmy Page, the Edge and Jack White all came to define the sound of guitar rock for their respective decades, and their influence and innovations are still being felt and copied across genres. Why then does a film that seeks only to pay tribute to these men's egos seem so disorganized and rambling?

It Might Get Loud centers around the meeting of the aforementioned trio in which they discuss their music, influences, and creative processes. Each player is also given segments where they return to their old stomping grounds for fond recollections and self-analyses.

Guggenheim uses a variety of documentary techniques to aid the film's exposition (archive/concert footage, stills, animation, interviews), but their is neither form nor flow to lend cohesion to the whole; most segments feel as though they could have been placed anywhere in the film (despite titled chapters). It is as if Guggenheim, clearly a personal admirer of his three subjects, simply thought "lets put these guys in a room together and let them tell stories and all I'll have to do is shoot it!" However, the film is not without its moments; one memorable scene has Edge and White struggling to contain their glee as they watch Page play the riff from 'Whole Lotta Love". There are even some interesting artistic choices, such as having Jack White co-exist with a 9 year-old version of himself; but on the whole the film really struggles to be taken as anything but idol worship. Loud is almost completely devoid of hardship or controversy, perhaps in fear of offending its stars; but any music fan knows thats where all the real interesting shit lies. Without such content and other necessary context, Loud is guitar porn posing as a documentary. If you're a fan of any of these three men, you'll probably enjoy your time with It Might Get Loud, but I would implore you to demand more. C

Other semi-related thoughts:

-The film's most genuine moment plays over the credits and involves a theremin. For a great documentary about music and instruments, check out Moog

-An almost decent amount of time is spent acknowledging the Blues in the development of rock, but the omission of a discussion regarding Page and the Blues is glaring (Props to White for admitting Rock's cultural theft and having Son House's "Grinnin' In Your Face" as his favorite song)

-I never got my head around U2. Maybe i was just born at the wrong time.

Lost Highway (1997)

The film starts. You're careening down a dark road lit only by your headlights, David Bowie blasting as you see names like Gary Busey and Richard Pryor, then "Directed by David Lynch". You know you're in for something great. The first film in Lynch's thematic trilogy (we can call it the "Prisoners of the Mind" or "Fuck Narrative" trilogy) that continues with Mulholland Dr. and Inland Empire, Lost Highway was the film that transformed Lynch from a director of dark, indie quirk to one of the medium's greatest masters and innovators.

Saxophonist Fred Madison (Bill Pullman) becomes president and has to save the world from an Alien inva...just kidding. He's a saxophonist in LA who starts to receive mysterious tapes indicating that someone is breaking into his house. Then there is Pete Dayton (Balthazar Getty), a mechanic for the shady Mr. Eddie (Robert Loggia). These two men will come to find themselves in very similar circumstances, connected by a, well there's no other word for it, a Lynchian cast of characters and events that is sure to change the course of their lives.

Lost Highway isn't likely to convert any Lynch haters out there. The film is filled with mise-en-scene and archetypes that are distinctly Lynch; red curtains, strobe lights, femme fatales, the Angelo Badalamenti score, but there is something oddly accessible about this movie as well. From the outset you are pulled into a world that offers just enough logic and mystery to keep you on the line. It doesn't take long before the hook pierces your cheek and you cant escape, you must know what the hell is going on and where everything fits in. But alas, one watches a Lynch film not for the moment when the brakes screech to a halt and the constraints lift up, but so that they may be dragged along on a ride unlike anything else. A

Other semi-related thoughts:

-hahaha, Rammstein

-It seems like these movies are a test drive (in terms of bold ambition) for the film that inevitably follows; Lost Highway for Mulholland Dr. (we're leaving out The Straight Story here) and Mulholland Dr. for Inland Empire. God only knows how David intends to top that.

-His next feature is rumored to be a CG kid's flick, Snootworld. My dream was a prophecy! (even though these rumors have been around since 2003)