framing device

While I’ve been doing a whole bunch of non-blogging, the world has been passing me by. Apparently, my neighbor Barack Obama goes to a church. Who knew? Next thing, someone will be telling me that white people don’t always treat black people so well. But that’s just crazy talk, and anyone who says otherwise hates America. And anyone who hates America…well, I don’t want to think about it (where’s that remote?).

Rob and I actually recorded our 2007 year-end discussion in time for summer, and Rob was muy pronto in posting it at his site. My apologies for not pointing it out earlier. I sound like I had too many cheese fries the day before, but Rob is coherent, thoughtful, and not at all racist.

I couldn’t tell if you David Gordon Green was a racist (though I could if you told me what church he goes to), but Rob has posted a thoughtful interview with the director of the masterpiece George Washington (see review below–warning, recycled content) and the new film Snow Angels.

And for something completely different, I offer a link to the funniest thing I’ve read this year. The folks at The Onion have to be jealous. Heck, I’m jealous. And grateful.

Long live “Links to Other Sites With Quotes and Paraphrasing”

!! (exclamation marks added for emphasis, parentheses added for explanation)

In honor of Rob Davis’s interview with David Gordon Green and in light of America’s sudden realization that racism may still be a relevant issue in our society, I offer one of my favorite reviews of one of my favorite movies.

“My friend George Washington said that he was going to live to be a hundred years old. He said that he was going to be the president of the United States. I wanted to see him lead a parade and wave a flag on the 4th of July. He just wanted greatness.”

The foot of a young boy jumps off of a steel beam into the thin air. A ray of light becomes an open door as we watch kids running in slow motion through the run-down streets of a deserted neighborhood. A boy in an alligator mask stands on an abandoned outdoor proscenium stage and recites poetry. All the while, the dirge-like sounds of a minimalist orchestra play in the background, sounds that somehow seem to stretch back to the beginning of time. George Washington is full of images that are both incongruous and moving, powerful and magnificent. Though we’re still only in the first month of 2001, I can state with all confidence that it is one of the best movies you’ll see all year.

The film, directed by David Gordon Green in his feature-length debut, is a striking artistic statement. Shot in beautiful Cinemascope with largely non-professional actors, it’s unlike anything you’ll see in contemporary Hollywood. The story involves six kids ranging in age from 10 to 13 and the adults that move in and out of their lives. That the kids are mostly black while the adults are mostly white is neither overemphasized nor overlooked.

The plot revolves around the kids’ friendships and how they change when, one day, an awful accident occurs. One of the many great things about George Washington, though, is how this basic narrative comes alive. It’s not that the story is complex or even that the characters have tremendous depth, but the movie feels like life. These are real people with real worries and real joys. The issue of race is a perfect example. There aren’t White characters and Black characters; there are white and black characters, who interact differently because of their color but aren’t defined by their color.

The main protagonist is a boy named George (Donald Holden), a quiet kid who, like many 12-year-old boys, has dreams of greatness but whose circumstances undermine those hopes. Watching him, with both admiration and infatuation, is Nasia (Candace Evanofski), a seventh grader who acts as the film’s narrator.

Nasia’s voiceover runs throughout George Washington, from the gorgeous pre-credit sequence to the film’s mesmerizing conclusion. It often acts as the glue between individual scenes, not so much explaining the action as commenting on life itself. But unlike the movies of Martin Scorsese, which teem with philosophical musings, Nasia’s words are simple, as if a 12-year-old girl who had had a particularly provocative day was offering you her thoughts. They’re simple ones, but they are as true as the smile of a baby who recognizes her mother.

The narration is particularly effective when Nasia subtly makes us part of her circle–asking the audience a question, seeing if we, too, have felt what she feels. In the film’s opening, she is describing the “grown-ups in my town”: “It was hard for them to find their peace. Don’t you know how that feels?” Later, as George is struggling with something he’s done, she says, “when you walk around with no one to laugh with you or hold your hand, that’s a different kind of walk, you know?” The answer to both questions is a resounding yes, an affirmation that we sense deep in our gut.

David Gordon Green’s film has this amazing power to draw us into the world he has created and yet make it seem like our own. When a boy and girl break up at the beginning of the movie, their exchange is both achingly specific and profoundly universal. “Can I kiss you one last time?” the boy asks. “Just tell me that you love me,” she responds. “Do you love me?”

This combination of specificity and universality reaches its apex in Green’s approach to myth. It’s obviously no accident that the film’s main character is named George Washington (actually, that’s his nickname, but we don’t find that out till near the end), but the movie refuses to settle for the easy irony–the smug condescension that mocks the notion that “anybody can grow up to be president.” Instead, it explores the notion of greatness, of heroism, of myth, as seen in the actions of a few youngsters on the cusp of adulthood.

George’s clothes include a broken football helmet, a superhero costume, and a Davy Crockett-style fur hat. None of them seem to fit very well, but that doesn’t stop him from contemplating his next act of greatness. That this might be as simple (foolish?) as directing traffic on a street that doesn’t need direction is irrelevant, the movie tells us. For just see what happens when a white man joins in and helps him–somehow this moment of communion in the midst of decay brought tears to my eyes. At the film’s conclusion, Green suddenly flashes pictures of famous Americans at famous junctures; and we’re confronted with the question of what is greatness, what is the American myth that we cling to, and who might be the next George Washington?

A couple weeks ago, I got into an argument with my friend Garth about the movie House of Mirth. I stated that I was tired of costume dramas that wept for the upper crust of 100 years ago, that I longed for movies that somehow speak to our culture and our problems and our hopes. Without realizing it at the time, I was asking for movies like George Washington. It’s easy to make a beautiful film with beautiful actors and beautiful costumes and beautiful scenery. But to make a beautiful movie about garbage dumps and city swimming pools and an abandoned couch lying on the wrong side of the tracks, well that’s greatness. Near the end of the film, Nasia remarks wistfully, “sometimes I smile and laugh when I think about all the great things you’re going to do.” Indeed.

Rob Davis has posted a couple more podcasts that he and I did. The first is a conversation about fall and holiday movies. This includes relatively long discussions about The Savages, My Kid Could Paint That, and I’m Not There, as well as a “speed round” about another ten films. And the discussion continues on the comments thread.

The second podcast is a pair of interviews: the first with Mike White, director of Year of the Dog; the second with Marjane Satrapi, the co-director of Persepolis. As with all our podcasts, you can also subscribe in iTunes, so that you download new ones automatically. Just go to iTunes and search by my name (J. Robert Parks). Enjoy.

The cool folk at the Onion A.V. Club ran a feature several few weeks ago on the greatest year for movies. Ask that question of a bunch of critics, and 1939 will come up more often than others. But giving the consensus answer isn’t much fun in that kind of parlor game, so Keith, Nathan, Noel, Scott, and Tasha sought out other vintage years.

I don’t feel like I’m an authority enough on film history to make such a proclamation, but I can say that 2007 was a fantastic year for movies. There weren’t as many masterpieces as one would hope for (though I’ll mention a couple in a few days when I do my wrap-up on classic and festival films), but the breadth of quality filmmaking was more impressive last year than almost any year I can remember. Narrowing down a top 10 proved exceedingly difficult, so much so that I’ve added a second and then a third ten, and even there I had to leave out a few movies I truly enjoyed. But without further ado, since this piece is late as it is, the Top 10 of 2007.

1. 4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days
The less you know about this film, the better. I walked into it knowing only that it was about abortion and had received glowing reviews at Cannes, and I was blown away. The suspense that Romanian director Cristian Mungiu creates as the movie follows two women is nothing short of astonishing. Anamaria Marinca gives a knockout performance (she deservedly won the L.A. critics Best Actress award) as a college student trying to help her roommate, and the movie uses static long takes and riveting dialogue to build its layered narrative. The themes of gender and control are timely, but Mungiu also portrays the last days of Ceausescu with unflinching candor. Indeed, ‘unflinching’ is a perfect word to describe 4 Months, but its rich humanist vein is another reminder of the growing power of Romanian cinema.

2. Once
The feel-good movie of the year that’s smart enough so that even the most jaded film critic can enjoy. It stars Glen Hansard (of the band The Frames) as a man who helps his dad in a vacuum repair shop and plays his guitar on Irish street corners. A young woman from the Czech Republic (the wonderfully vulnerable Marketa Irglova) approaches him about fixing her vacuum cleaner, but she’s more interested in his music. Their burgeoning romance provides the heart of the film, but it’s their musical collaborations (she plays piano) that set the movie apart from every other romantic drama released last year. A rare film that ends at just the right spot but could’ve gone on another hour or two I love these characters so much. Rent it and enjoy. — full review

3. No End in Sight
I’ve grown tired of the documentary explosion. Cheap digital recording and editing equipment have made it so that almost anyone can make a documentary, but just because everyone can doesn’t mean everyone should. I’ve grown particularly tired of docs about obscure music groups (isn’t that what VH1 is for?) and the Iraq war. There are so many of the latter that telling them apart is difficult, and most feel like they’re merely treading the same water that every other movie was swimming in. That’s not true of Charles Ferguson’s brilliant and infuriating film. He marshals an impressive collection of talking heads who describe how the U.S. went to war and how we screwed it up so badly. Almost every major figure offers their perspective–save Rumsfeld, Cheney, and Bush, though Ferguson uses their own words to damning effect. Best of all, he knows how to craft an impressive argument in just 100 minutes. As someone who’s read a lot on Iraq, I didn’t necessarily learn anything new, but seeing it all in one concise, powerfully edited film brought it into much clearer focus. Required viewing for anyone planning on voting this fall.

4. No Country for Old Men
I’ve said all I need to say in the long podcast Rob Davis and I recorded, as well as a few written comments at the site. It’s a tough, brutal, exceedingly thoughtful film and one I’ll be happy to salute come Oscar night.

5. I Don’t Want to Sleep Alone
A return to form for Taiwanese filmmaker Tsai Ming-liang, as he continues to explore the characters of Hsiao-kang and Chyi, but this time in Malaysia. The familiar themes of urban alienation, ennui, and weather (yes, weather!) are back, and Tsai’s eye for exotic images has never been better. The final shot of three people lying on a floating mattress is the coolest slow-motion scene of 2007.

6. Sicko
Michael Moore’s persona has reached the point where he probably hurts his own cause, but this caustic exploration of the American health care system is both urgently welcome and surprisingly funny. Moore has mastered the role of the dumb American who suddenly realizes the media and government might be lying to him, and his impassioned plea for single-payer national health care is grounded in a larger call to unabashed liberalism. As I wrote in an earlier review, a glorious piece of agitprop. — full review

7. Darkon
A documentary about people who create and play live-action role playing games might sound almost as dorky as its subjects, but this smart, insightful film is well worth your time. It explores a half dozen people in the Baltimore area who helped create Darkon and have been playing it for years. Their explanations for why they play are intimately self-aware, and directors Luke Meyer and Andrew Neel seamlessly interweave footage from actual game sessions. Unlike too many docs I saw in 2007, this one is always in the right place and able to capture the most important footage.

8. My Kid Could Paint That
The story of four-year-old painter Marla Olmstead has all the elements of a great yarn, but I’m sure director Amir Bar-lev had little idea what he was getting into when he started filming her for a documentary. Thinking that he was going to explore how a prodigy functions, his story was turned upside down when “60 Minutes” ran a piece debunking Marla’s talent and implying that Marla’s father was the true artist. The movie thoughtfully ponders the nature of art and specifically abstract art (the NY Times art critic Michael Kimmelman offers several brilliant comments), why people like what they like, how stories and rumors take on lives of their own, and how those stories impact our understanding of art and culture. Bar-lev also doesn’t shy away from examining the role of a documentarian and the ethics involved in filming real people and situations, and he interrogates his own role in this increasingly complicated narrative. It all adds up to a riveting story that you’ll chew on for days.

9. In the Shadow of the Moon
I know, I know. I make a point of how I’m getting tired of documentaries, and then I put five of them in my top 10. But how can you not love a movie that interviews most of the men who’ve walked on the moon (all of whom are funny and charismatic) and intercuts that with remastered footage of rockets lifting off, spacemen jumping in moon dust, and the awesome sight of Earth from 240,000 miles away? It won’t be as awesome on your tv, but it’s still well worth renting.

10. Hot Fuzz
The best comedy of last year. From the guys who brought you the zombie spoof Shaun of the Dead, this one good-naturedly mocks buddy-cop movies like Lethal Weapon. The satire is sharp, the sight gags are classic, and it all builds up to a gloriously inane shootout that had me falling off my seat.

Another Ten (films that in a different year could’ve been top 10 material, in alphabetical order)
12:08 East of Bucharest — more evidence of the Romanian renaissance, this one featuring lots of caustic sight gags.
Assassination of Jesse James … — a great Western anchored by a strong Brad Pitt performance.
Away from Her — the actress Sarah Polley shows herself a marvelous handler of actors in her directorial debut. Julie Christie is getting all the Oscar buzz (and deservedly so), but Canadian actor Gordon Pinsent is even better. — full review
Brand upon the Brain — Guy Maddin just keeps getting crazier and more inventive.
Manufactured Landscapes — revealing (and strangely picturesque) documentary about how human beings are destroying our planet. — full review
Michael Clayton — Hollywood star power at its finest. Gripping and taut. — full review
Persepolis — gorgeous, funny, and melancholy animated film, based on the graphic novel memoir of a child growing up in post-revolution Iran.
Summercamp! — fun, fun, fun documentary about kids in the great outdoors. — festival blurb
Starting out in the Evening — Frank Langella gives a marvelous performance as an older writer approached by a young and interested woman. The plot hits a few false notes, but the same cannot be said of Langella.
The Violin — a black-and-white Mexican film about war, torture, and music. But since neither Weinstein nor Sony Classics picked this up, you know there’s nothing sentimental about it. — festival blurb

Worthy Honorable Mentions
A Mighty Heart, Black Book, Blame It on Fidel, Boss of It All, Charlie Wilson’s War, Honeydripper, The Host, Juno, Live-In Maid, and Ten Canoes

And finally three movies I like but that lots of other people love, which means I might need to see them again: Syndromes and a Century, There Will Be Blood, and Zodiac.

So, what were your favorite movies of 2007? Feel free to link to your own top 10, but please don’t say Transformers. And here’s to 2008, which hopefully will be just as good as 2007.

My friend and podcast partner Rob Davis went to Sundance this year, and we had a chance to talk about it when he returned. That recording is now up at his site. You can also subscribe to our podcast on iTunes (the price is right=free). Just search by my name (J. Robert Parks), and you should find it. That way you’ll download a new podcast whenever we put one up. And that should be more frequent in the future, as I know Rob has more time on his hands. Already in the can are discussions of many of the Oscar movies, a year-end review, and interviews with the directors of The Savages and Persepolis.

above photo: Michael J. Smith, Sr. in the film Ballast

A belated happy new year to all my faithful readers. We’ll see if my resolution to blog more consistently pans out in ‘08 better than it did in ‘07. I’m writing up a year-end post, but there were a couple last movies I wanted to see before I did that, so the top10 list will have to wait a day or three. But in the meantime, Rob Davis has posted another podcast he and I recorded, this one from our conversation about Rob’s trip to the New York Film Festival. There’s also been an interesting continuation of our No Country for Old Men discussion in the comments thread. Check it out and feel free to leave your own thoughts on that provocative film.

Before various critics groups started hailing the Coen brothers’ latest as the best of the year, Rob Davis and I sat down and talked about that film, along with Wes Anderson’s The Darjeeling Limited. Then Rob saw No Country for a second time, which led to another, and even better, discussion. He’s combined the two conversations into a thoughtful podcast, though be forewarned that you shouldn’t listen to the second half until you’ve seen the movie for yourself. You can find the podcast at the link above or on iTunes. Both downloads are free. And since we’re trying to collect comments in one place, leave any and all thoughts at Rob’s site. I hope you enjoy it.

Rob Davis has posted another podcast that he and I recorded. It’s about the Taiwanese director Hou Hsiao-hsien and his 2006 film, Three Times. Rob and I have similar taste in movies, but we disagreed about this one. So tune in as Rob tries to convince me of the movie’s merits. Even if foreign film isn’t your style, I hope you enjoy the scintillating back-and-forth. And if Rob isn’t too bogged down with parenthood, he’ll soon be posting our discussion of the new Coen brothers and Wes Anderson movies.

Trying to catch up with some blogging about all the great movies that have come out this fall…

I’m genuinely surprised and a bit dismayed at how few people have gone to see Michael Clayton. I don’t usually care about box office figures, but what does it mean that a movie with an intelligent story, tremendous acting, and genuine star power can’t find an audience? Are we stuck forever with digitally rendered 3-D versions of Angelina Jolie’s breasts? Don’t get me wrong–that might be pleasant for a movie or two, but where’s the substance?

Here’s what Michael Clayton has going for it. George Clooney, for starters. As the title character, he embodies both suave sophistication and beaten-down weariness as a “fixer” for a large law firm. His current assignment is to keep tabs on Arthur Edens, an old friend and the lead lawyer for the defense in an enormous class-action suit (played by the always magnificent Tom Wilkinson). That’s easier said than done as the Arthur has gone off his medication and run naked during a deposition. When Michael tries to corral him, Arthur threatens to expose the company’s dirty, not-so-little secrets. Michael has troubles of his own, though, as he’s struggling with an enormous gambling debt and the sense that he’s just going through the motions in his job. What he doesn’t know is that his problems are about to get a lot worse.

The story, written by director Tony Gilroy, is tight and sleek, just like a conspiracy thriller should be. We have some bad guys, and we have some other guys who don’t think they’re bad but are. Tilda Swinton is one of the latter (though she’s saddled with an unfortunately pre-feminist character), and she’s part of a strong supporting cast that moves the picture along. I was particularly pleased to see Sydney Pollack in a juicy role, and Tom Wilkinson reminds us of why he’s one of the best actors working today.

Gilroy also knows how to cut from scene to scene, ratcheting up the tension and keeping us in suspense. But this isn’t one of those movies that’s too smart for its own good. Only a misstep with some horses slows the film down. And Clooney is fantastic, delivering enough depth to almost make you forget you’re watching a huge movie star but exhibiting enough charisma to remind you of how much fun it is to go to the movies. Let the teenagers run off to see Beowulf (in 3-D!!). Michael Clayton is for the rest of us. Don’t miss it.

Michael Clayton: four stars, out of five

Hello, friends.

I’ve survived the craziness that is October in my life, and things are getting back to normal. Which means I hope to get back to blogging (lots of great movies to discuss!) and also responding to the thoughtful comments people left on my Toronto stuff. But that’s not happening before Friday.

To tide you over until then, let me direct you to two enjoyable (at least I think so) podcasts. One is a discussion Rob Davis and I had about my Toronto experience. Obviously, some of that overlaps with my written posts, but it’s still worthwhile and Rob is a gracious interviewer. Then speaking of interviews, a more relevant podcast is an interview I did two weeks ago with Craig Gillespie, director of the surprising Lars and the Real Girl. I hope you enjoy both of those, and feel free to leave comments on Rob’s site or here if you’re so inclined.