Mood Painting

Michael Mann paints his films not just with colors, but with how the colors make you feel — so he says in his commentary on the movie Miami Vice (unrated director’s edition), and I believe it.  He establishes mood as much as context; cool glass buildings, very high-tech and expensive in their simplicity, with glorious views outside all that glass; inner city streets squalid, complex and jumbled-seeming, noisy and busy, lots of men with guns, in uniform and out.  The movie is not only, perhaps not even mostly, about the plot, although the plot is a good one and airtight in its setups and payoffs: it is about mood, situation, human emotion.  Jose Yero’s actions (played by John Ortiz) are almost entirely guided by emotions: how he ‘feels’ about it… and, for the most part, so are those of the others in the film. Excellent if you are using hard-earned but unconscious survival skills to stay alive; not so good if you are jealous, because you have secretly been infatuated with the leader’s woman and now someone else has clearly taken her heart, and that person is not you, and not the leader either…

It would be easy, and a mistake, to watch this film for the plot alone.  Yes, you do have to pay attention in order to understand what’s going on, but if you do, it is clear enough.  The real action is the visuals, providing mood and emotion — so much natural beauty, so much man-made squalor — and the expressions on people’s faces.

The actor’s job is to create a character by showing us — or withholding from us — emotions, not just wearing a costume and makeup, saying lines, and hitting a mark or doing a stunt.

All of the actors in this film are top-notch, and many world-famous, whether their have names are familiar to us or not.  In fact, Isabella is played by the great Gong Li, famous to millions around the world for her lead roles in some of the greatest recent films of Chinese cinema, although her name may not be a household word (yet) to some US movie-goers.

Sights and sounds, sights and sounds:  The camera flying over the incomparable Iguazu Falls, at the border of Argentina and Brazil.  One of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen, photographed more beautifully than I’ve ever seen before.  And I will never hear the song “Pennies in my Pocket” without thinking of this film every time I do.

One technical note: Wilmfilm and I watched the unrated director’s edition on a single-sided DVD rented from Netflix, and in that way we saw the ‘extended’ version and were able to enjoy, afterwards, Michael Mann’s commentary.  When we decided to purchase a copy for ourselves — we definitely wanted to be able to return to it from time to time; it’s a classic — the product description did not warn us that the HD-DVD combo copy offers the unrated edition only on the HD side. The DVD side of the combo contains only the theatrically-released rated version. No HD player in this house. While the rated version is a good film, the unrated version is superb, and contains more material and more plot and character subtleties, and lingers over some of the greatest shots longer, and has some different music placements (same music, different place in the film).

If you don’t have an HD player, you will have to obtain a DVD-only disc (no combo) to view the unrated edition on your DVD player.

Must Watch: Zydeco Music!

This is the greatest and most cheerful piece that has emerged during this whole election season!

Watch the video!  This is a great piece of zydeco music, and if it doesn’t get your toes and your hands tapping and clapping, I don’t know what will!

Watch the video, follow the link, download the mp3 (and learn about the Whirlybird)…  watch some great gumbo being made, and watch some people having a fine time singing, dancing, and playing music!

Sing along (French or English — the words are in the piece)!  Dance around the room!

This is truly great stuff!

Lawrence of Arabia

The Hermit and I spent an evening watching the restored version of David Lean’s film, Lawrence of Arabia. It’s available on DVD. But, as Roger Ebert points out in his essay on Lawrence of Arabia in his book The Great Movies, the viewer spends a lot of time looking at great sweeps of desert landscapes, sometimes trying to see if there’s a little dot on the horizon — a person far in the distance. Details of that kind can be lost on the small screen. Ebert recommends, wisely, finding a way to see a 70mm version projected in a theater. That is indeed the ideal way to view it.

To solve the DVD-viewing problem, we didn’t bother with a tv screen of any size, small or large. We watched the movie using the Hermit’s basement projection system — one large white wall becomes the screen. The Hermit uses a projector of the type used to show bullet-point slides or other visuals from a computer at conventions and meetings. Back the projector far enough to fill the wall with the image, play the DVD on the computer, and turn on the speakers.

Lawrence of Arabia, I learned when I looked it up on the IMDB, was shot in a 2:20 to 1 ratio. The image we saw was 4 feet high; that means it was also 8.8 feet wide — almost three yards. We were sitting closer than one might in a movie theater — possibly 10 feet back. The image was high up, starting right under the ceiling. We could see everything there was to see.

What a magnificent visual delight of a movie! colors, shapes, movement, music — and of course unforgettable characters and events. Read Roger Ebert’s essay on it in his book The Great Movies, whether you’ve seen it or not. And then find a way to see it again, now that the restored version is available. What an amazing four-hour trip it is!

The Clockwork Orange-Tree

The Hermit and I watched The Illusionist together last night. Then I came back to the Perch and, as a nightcap, watched a DVD, Uncovered, a film based on Arturo Perez-Reverte’s novel The Flanders Panel.

In that film, as one small side incident, while she is in a shop that sells unusual items, the young protagonist gets to watch a clockwork orange-tree seemingly grow and reveal several oranges, after which the top orange splits in half and a handkerchief emerges, held up by two butterflies.

It was a striking coincidence, and came as something of a shock. To understand why, please go see The Illusionist.

The Social Consequences of Fun

I’ve just watched the movie It All Starts Today by French director Bertrand Tavernier. It is a fact-based movie — all the facts are checked and accurate, and reflect real experiences of actual teachers in similar situations — about a teacher working in a French poverty-area school for kindergarteners and those in early grades.

If you’re well-enough off to have a computer (you’re reading this blogpost) and watch movies on DVD, you may think you understand about real, grinding poverty, but I’m betting not. All the more reason to watch the movie and see what real poverty is like, and what it’s like to work not only with the little kids but also battle the systems set up to help but that so often treat, oppose, or weigh them down. True, the movie is set in France, and you have to read English subtitles if you don’t speak fluent French, but that’s no problem if you’re reading this. The subtitles are well done.

But what about the terrible poverty of people in the US? you ask. Funny you should ask that. Because just today Jon Carroll’s column tells about a woman, Diane Mintz, who went to work as a tutor in Richmond (San Francisco Bay area) and

She had a revelation, a phrase that she repeats over and over again — “these kids had never seen the Golden Gate Bridge.” Some of them didn’t even know the Golden Gate Bridge was there to be seen.

Mintz’s activity went from arranging (and raising money for) field trips, to arranging for attendance at established, reputable summer camps, to incorporating as a 501(c)3 corporation named YES, to the idea of … well, I want you to read the column for yourself.

If you don’t think there are social consequences of fun or of relaxation or of just getting out of an oppressive situation for a while, to see some other possibilities, I’m waiting to see you give up your vacation and weekends, since you don’t think you need them. The positive consequences of relaxation and fun — absent from so many lives — are huge and go far beyond a nice time in the country. Read Carroll’s column to learn about “summer loss” and other ideas you may not be familiar with.

We all see our own situations and think we understand the world — but we only understand our own situations. Before we decide that “if we can do it (whatever “it” is) so can everyone else,” let’s first see what the other person’s situation is really like, not what we assume it is — or what we are told to think about it.

Do yourself a favor: go read that column.

Good Night and Good Luck

Just got back from seeing the film “Good Night, and Good Luck.” Superb, tops, the greatest. Or, in the jargon of the day, I flipped. Extremely accurate in every detail, letting its point make itself by reporting the actual words and deeds. So well done I cannot express it. Every actor just outstanding, a great cast in top form. Strathairn as Murrow is awe-inspiring.

The strategy of the film “Good Night and Good Luck” is the same as the strategy used by Murrow and his news team in their broadcast: to let Sen. Joseph McCarthy’s own words and image in straight archival documentary footage expose the smear tactics of McCarthy and his associate Roy Cohn.

In the film, we see Murrow, brilliantly played by Strathairn, and his team of CBS news staffers, a fine ensemble cast, create and air their broadcast. We also see the attempts to smear, threaten, pressurise and bully the team, the sponsor and the network into laying off the story.

Senator Joe McCarthy, by the way, is brilliantly played by — Joe McCarthy himself. The footage you see of McCarthy is actual archival footage of the real Joe McCarthy doing his McCarthy thing. No acting, no rewording, no changes. It’s the man himself.

“Good Night and Good Luck” is a Section Eight production. George Clooney directed and acted in the film and worked on the script — a brilliant idea, brilliantly realized.

The film is a masterpiece. Go and see it at once. Why are you still sitting there reading this?

Hogwarts the Marvelous

I went with the Hermit today to see Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

Where did they get that clock? I love the works and the pendulum. Now that’s a clock!!!!

Of course it’s perfect with the time-turning theme and is well-used in this particular plot. Each time I see a new Potter — and this one opened it up really well, thank you Alfonso Cuaron! — I want more to have been first a student, then to become a staff member at Hogwarts. Of course I’d really rather not have to face You Know Who; nevertheless, being there would be worth it, with Dumbledore, McGonigal, Potter and the rest there.

Another thing I loved was the closer-than-usual-to-scale Orrery in the room where HP practiced his Patronus spell. It took me a moment to work out what those brass-looking floating spheres were: the outer planets. What a wonderful thing! I’ve always admired orreries and wished I had one. If I remember correctly, earlier Potter films — at least one — had smaller orreries elsewhere, possibly in Dumbledore’s office. The one in this film is a splendid one, and I’ll be able to study it a little more when I get the dvd… All those great rooms, much more complex, and grander without in any way being pretentious. The down-to-earth grandeur of really large fine buildings intended for and devoted to use by many people, and no Disney-fication, thank you, and containing all the great things one reads about (like orreries) but never ever gets to see outside a few museums… we saw them! And in action, as part of the everyday life at Hogwarts! I can’t thank Cuaron and his moviemakers enough for that! It is that ordinarily-miraculous quality more than any other single one that, to me, captures the essence of the book in this film.

I asked the Captain, who had seen the movie and then urged me to see it, what branch of magic he’d like to take up, if he were a wizard. In a phrasing surprisingly reminscent of Hagrid’s, he answered: “Defense Against the Dark Arts, of course!”

I’m not sure what I would like to study and teach at Hogwarts. All of it appeals to me in some way. Runes? Astronomy? Study the stars with Firenze? Get to help out Hagrid from time to time on the amazing Hogwarts grounds? Spend a lot of time walking widely over the grounds and through the buildings, and read and draw lots and lots, that’s for sure. Be part of that distinguished faculty and be able to talk with them as one of them. Perhaps I’d like to be artist-in-residence, with a sideline as curator of paintings! Yes, that’s it; there doesn’t seem to be one on staff. I think that would exactly suit me, a (mostly) self-directed post reporting to Dumbledore, with full library and staff room privileges and castle and grounds access anywhere, all the time, able to come and go as one wished… how perfect!