Category Archives: directors

Skip’s Quips, Part II: ‘Minister’-ing to Movie Wounds

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Blog Sketch 082813Well, I saw Bertrand Tavernier’s The French Minister yesterday at Manhattan’s Walter Reade Theater.

Some amusing bits. But it didn’t feel cohesive. Undeveloped characters ran rampant in this tale, the based-on-a-true-graphic-novel-story of a young Parisian speechwriter’s encounters with his blustery foreign minister. Once-funny jokes were repeated all too often, including a running gag in which papers fly each time the public serviceman enters a room and slams the door. Yes, it was too much of a good thing. Then there was the protagonist’s love interest, who remained just that: a love interest. There wasn’t much conflict or development in their relationship as the film proceeded.

Cinematography was conservative, save a few dashing shots and screen slice-ups. And the film was overlong; much of the door-slamming could’ve been cut. Overall a decent film, but not a special one. More appetizing was the fact that Tavernier showed up and took questions afterward. A tall, white-haired gentleman, the veteran director seemed very personable and interested in talking about his film. Sadly, the movie isn’t a masterpiece, but it’s definitely different from the rest of the cinematic fare being shown on Broadway.

If only it were better.

Skip’s Quips: Off to the New Tavernier Flick

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Blog Sketch 082813I have never seen a Bertrand Tavernier film. But now I’m going to watch one.

It’s called The French Minister and it’s playing at Manhattan’s Lincoln Center. My wife is coming, too.

I feel very ignorant about Tavernier’s body of work. I haven’t even seen ‘Round Midnight. I probably should.

There’s also Death Watch, which I’d heard about and am interested in viewing.

The French Minister should make good blogging material. I am curious about it. Plus, Tavernier apparently is scheduled to make an appearance afterward for a Q&A session. Sounds interesting, right?

All part of the benefits of living in a cinema-oriented world.

Setter’s ‘Spectives: Sometimes You Just Gotta Say, ‘Well, That Was a Horrible Movie’

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Setter Drawing for Blog 082613And that’s exactly what I thought after watching Drive, He Said, director Jack Nicholson’s not-good 1971 relic about a womanizing college-basketball star and his bizarre counterculture roommate.

How did this film make basketball boring? I wondered, as the film meandered through then-hip out-of-focus shots and slo-mo passages. I was shocked to find myself wishing I had watched curling in the Olympics over these scenes. Bad sign, movie.

Then there was the problem of the film not being able to decide what it was about. The struggle to avoid the draft? Hippie dippiness? Who was it about, anyway, the basketball fella or his roomie? The movie couldn’t seem to decide. In fact, it followed them both in equal amounts, despite them both being unlikable characters.

Yuck. Turn it off, he said.

I think sometimes you’ve got to watch a bad movie once in a while to desire good movies more. I mean, right now, I could watch any portion of The Seven Samurai and be cleansed of the lousy-film experience. Boy, do I need a Kurosawa bath right now.

Maybe a bit of ice cream will rid me of the taste in my mouth. Yes, sometimes you’ve got to watch a bad movie once in a while. But even once in a while doesn’t feel good.

From Skip and Setter’s Creator: My Next Opus on CURNBLOG … This Time With Susan Seidelman

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Blog Sketch of Me 092213Hi, folks! My new interview on CURNBLOG is up, and it’s a good one: I talk to Susan Seidelman, director of films such as Desperately Seeking Susan, about balancing comedy and drama, Hollywood’s treatment of female talent, and her own cinematic influences. You can read more here:

http://curnblog.com/2014/03/07/interviewing-susan-seidelman-madonna-menopause/

I hope you like it.

Setter’s ‘Spectives: Dude, Where’s My Movie?

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Setter Drawing for Blog 082613Now I can finally say I’ve seen The Big Lebowski.

And what a big, sloppy movie it is. Kind of tedious, ultimately, too, though it has some bursts of funny dialogue.

Could’ve been a lot better, though. Seemed to miss a lot of opportunities. Still, you rarely see real, bona fide (OK, actors portraying real, bona fide) nihilists onscreen, so that’s a plus. A Big Lebowski plus. Hm.

Actually, what bothered me the most about this Coen Bros. film was the structure. Despite all the tying up of (really) loose ends, it felt like it was generated in a room at midnight over a couple of White Russian cocktails and tons of stale coffee. Perhaps that was the point. I’m not Big Lebowski big on that kind of point, though.

Yes, the cinematography was quite good. Especially the camera-in-the-bowling-ball shot as the orb rolled down the lane. Nice job on that, guys. It didn’t, however, define the movie, like some shots do. And great camerawork does not necessarily a great movie make.

Oh, well. I wish the Coens decided to be much sillier with the film, as it had so many wide-open targets: nutty artists, bowling aficionados, stoner, uh, no-goodniks. It just ended up being diverting, with a number of long stretches. I’m not Big Lebowski big on long stretches, either.

I just want a good-overall movie.

From Skip and Setter’s Creator: Another Interview … This Time With Whit Stillman

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Blog Sketch of Me 092213Hello, everyone! Just letting you know that my latest interview for CURNBLOG has been put to website, and it’s a doozy. It’s a conversation with Whit Stillman, director of films such as Metropolitan and The Last Days of Disco. In it, Whit discusses his moviemaking process, as well as his opinion of films past and present. You can read more about it here:

http://curnblog.com/2014/02/11/interviewing-whit-stillman-cinematic-sense-sensibility/

Hope you like it!

Setter’s ‘Spectives: Coming to Bury Rather Than Praise

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Setter Drawing for Blog 082613Are we allowed nowadays to express how little we’ve learned from Pauline Kael’s film reviews?

Or is that speaking ill of the dead? Because the last thing I’d want to do is speak ill of the dead … though, as I recall, Kael often spoke ill of the living, so that’s fine, right?

For instance: There was that completely non-judgmental review of Dances with Wolves, remember, where she suggests that director Kevin Costner has “feathers in his head”? That’s OK to say, isn’t it? I mean, levying personal insults at the filmmaker rather than criticizing the film is copacetic, no?

No. It sure ain’t. And I don’t think it makes sense to do that—no matter how bad the director’s films are.

Saying a flick’s poor in some way is, to my mind, much more fair. One of the reasons I never found Kael’s reviews enlightening is that they tended to include content, like the feather-festooned phrase cited above, that directly attacked those involved in the movies’ creation, for some reason, and that’s not valid criticism. Blast the film, not the maker. If the director’s a bad person, that’s one thing, but it also may be irrelevant. The picture is the thing when composing a movie review, and it should focus on that while describing what isn’t to like about the director’s techniques rather than the individual as a person. Keep the nastiness to the work.

I’ve never subscribed to the Cult of Kael, and although this is a big reason why, it isn’t the only one. I disagreed with her many a time on her perspectives, though once in a while I concurred. Yet her insistence on personal insults kept me from admiring her work overall. There are plenty of good critics in this world who maintain honesty without succumbing to such practices. Too bad Kael couldn’t do the latter. Frankly, I couldn’t praise that if I tried.

Setter’s ‘Spectives: The Shot Not Seen ‘Round the World

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Setter Drawing for Blog 082613The best shot in all of cinema may be one that’s hardly remembered.

It’s one that I think about periodically when I ponder great filmmaking. Of course, it’s from The Seven Samurai, one of my favorite movies. But it’s not from a famous scene.

Instead, it’s an image from a sequence toward the beginning where a number of farmers are in town to recruit samurai. They’re staying at an inn and discover that most of the rice that they’re subsisting on has been stolen. If I remember correctly, one of the farmers–Rikichi (played magnificently by Yoshio Tsuchiya)–gets angry at his comrade, Yohei (Bokuzen Hidari), who was supposed to watch over it, and throws the last handful at him.

Then comes this great shot, where we see Yohei start to pick up the grains, one by one, from the floor.

Why is this so brilliant? It’s one small, short shot, but the impact is monumental. It tells you everything you need to know about the farmers–that they’re so desperate, poor and hungry that they’ll even try to save a few grains of rice to eat them … the last they have left. They can’t afford to waste any. And director Akira Kurosawa shows this horror by focusing his camera on the floor, as Yohei tries to retrieve the rice.

Absolutely compelling.

There may be more famous shots in the movies, but this is one of the few complete ones, an image that gives us all the information we need, plus a haunting picture, without telling us straight out why. No surprise, then, that I think about it often when I muse on all things cinema.

If only more directors would learn from shots such as this, the movies would be a better place.

Skip’s Quips: Details on the ‘Interiors’ Doctrine

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Blog Sketch 082813These days, I refuse to see any Woody Allen movie made after 1975.

That’s right: I didn’t see Blue Jasmine. You know why? Because I already know I won’t like it.

Plus, Mia Farrow told me years ago that I have a “beautiful singing voice,” so I do kinda feel biased. But that’s another story.

The problem is, I just don’t care for any of Allen’s films with serious themes. Even Annie Hall; it just isn’t my favorite. The non-humorous dialogue and situations peppering his later pictures aren’t credible in my book. And I can’t help but wonder why he gravitated to such content after making some of the most hilarious films to hit the screen in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Those include Bananas, Sleeper, and Love and Death, laugh-a-minute jokefests that, to my mind, are of higher quality and greater import than anything he has made since. He’s a terrific comedian. Why does he seem to feel an all-comedy flick is beneath him?

I’ve remarked before on the phenomenon of great comic actors taking on serious roles in, perhaps, an effort to be recognized for more “significant” work. Yet I wonder sometimes about a theory I have: that great actors are often great comedians, yet great comedians aren’t always great actors. It is just a theory, but it has held true in many a case.

Don’t worry; I’m not gonna patent it or anything.

Woody’s not going to go back in time, I assume, and recreate the past. We’ll just have to live with his annual or semiannual churnout of lackluster, serious films dotted with big stars. And I will have to live with not going to see them. What price contentment, huh?

I’ll just put on Sleeper instead.

Skip’s Quips: There’s a Gaffe in My Soup

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Blog Sketch 082813I look back in bemusement whenever I recall the original 1977 Star Wars.

It’s a terrific flick, don’t get me wrong. But each time I start thinking about it, I summon up remembrance of continuity issues past—specifically, that scene where Mark Hamill’s Luke Skywalker, out cold after being beaten up by mean-spirited Sand People, somehow shifts his head’s position on the ground without allowing the audience to witness the change. In the first shot, it’s facing the side. In a later shot, it’s facing up.

The Force is strong with that one, right? He moves so quickly, the camera doesn’t even capture it.

Of course, everyone makes mistakes, and it’s too small an issue to ruin the film. Yet it strikes me as bizarre that in such a slick, polished production, a little continuity error like this could slither past. Wouldn’t someone have caught this before it reached the theaters?

Perhaps director George Lucas was concentrating more on the big picture when reviewing the film. He definitely had a lot to oversee, all things considered. Still, the paradox of great movies featuring tiny gaffes remains a constant. One can turn to Akira Kurosawa’s Throne of Blood, which allegedly saw the director order the set rebuilt after viewing a component that wouldn’t have appeared in the story’s era, yet contains a visible cut jumping from Toshiro Mifune’s still-alive Washizu to one pierced through the neck with an arrow. Or check out Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo, in which Kim Novak’s faux Madeleine disappears into a house with no other exit, thereby befuddling both Scottie (Jimmy Stewart), who has followed her, and the audience. Or look into Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, where the army attacking Mordor finds itself mounted on horses in one shot and dismounted, with the steeds nowhere to be seen, in another.

There’s nothing we can so about this but suspend disbelief. These flicks are good enough to wave off continuity quibbles. As an audience, however, do we have a right to perfection for our money? Or just greatness? Am I asking too much that a film be error-free?

Perhaps. I’ll keep enjoying all the movies above, of course—nothing’s different there. I may, though, break a smile each time I watch these continuity-challenged scenes, in recognition of the idea that even masterpieces aren’t infallible.

It’s a good way to feel good about a good movie, isn’t it? I’ve already convinced myself that that’s true.