Category Archives: Uncategorized

Skip’s Quips: Sex and the Surreal Side of the ‘Tabloid’ Arena

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Blog Sketch 082813I like Errol Morris’ documentaries. He’s not my favorite director, but he picks interesting subjects and films them creatively.

Tabloid is no exception. A Morris-helmed documentary about the adventures of Joyce McKinney – a supposedly all-American gal who captured the loins of the British press in the 1970s by allegedly abducting and sexifying a Mormon boyfriend whilst in the United Kingdom – the film offers an intriguing, sometimes tongue-in-cheek look at a very smart, possibly disturbed woman and the bizarre life she once led. Interviewees include McKinney and a couple of British tabloiders who worked on the story back in the day, who provide a variety of opinions and perspectives. The movie does leave things relatively ambiguous as to who is the wronged party, and it’s a credit to Morris that it does so.

A few issues: Some of the edits aren’t seamless, leaving wide swaths of black screen before jumping to the next scene. And then there is the humorous commentary, consisting of certain words blown up to immense proportions on camera, as well as old footage meant to shed light on amusing or telling situations. I think the film would’ve worked better without these bells and whistles; it would’ve seemed more impartial, allowing us to draw our own conclusions.

Nevertheless, it’s an interesting documentary – another strange, beguiling piece of filmmaking by a very inventive director. He’s got quite a strong portfolio right now. I’d be curious to see what he adds to it.

Setter’s ‘Spectives: Bad Puns and ‘Good Will Hunting’

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Setter Drawing for Blog 082613I have five things to say about Good Will Hunting, which I just saw for the first time a couple of days ago.

I. Did. Not. Like. It.

Part of me knew this would happen. The bad pun in the title gave my future cinema verdict away. I couldn’t appreciate something that didn’t take itself seriously enough to give itself a sharper moniker.

But there were other problems that rubbed me the wrong way. A script that was both sappy and abrasive. An unlikable lead performance. Schmaltzy music. And a plodding pace. All of which undermined several good performances, notably by Robin Williams as a therapist helping the title character.

Direction was also problematic. The film moved so slowly it was unbearable. I’m not a big fan of Gus Van Sant’s other films, including the dreadful To Die For and the frustrating Elephant. GWH is just another movie in his canon that I don’t care for.

I realize GWH is very popular. Once again, I’m in the minority on this. I don’t know why, though. To me, it just didn’t work.

Skip’s Quips: Cinema of the Irritating

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Blog Sketch 082813A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away (well, Manhattan), I was told by an otherwise rational budding critic that Jean-Luc Godard was the real French New Wave director–not François Truffaut.

In the words of Michael Caine’s character Peachy Carnehan in The Man Who Would Be King: “Pardon me while I fall down laughing.”

Yes, this was told to me in all seriousness, with the utmost authority. I guess if you make movies that are too enjoyable, it’s trendy to discount them in favor of more “experimental” cinema.

Frankly, I like to be entertained. And in general, Truffaut’s body of work is light-years more entertaining than Godard’s–Breathless aside.

You’re right: The critic’s point was that Godard was more of a New Wave exponent than Truffaut … not necessarily a better filmmaker (although I think that was implied). Yet I’ll have to disagree with this, too. Truffaut’s edgy cuts, intimate camera, and use of tricks ranging from irises to freeze-frames invigorated the cinema, bringing it close to an accessible, pertinent ideal. That his films are greater, in general, than Godard’s is just gravy. It’s François I think of when I think of La Nouvelle Vague, not Jean-Luc.

Do I consider Breathless a hallmark of world cinema? Of course. But I consider it a Truffaut film, anyway. Sans François, Godard’s films aren’t as good–and often veer on the irritating.

To be a “real” artist in any medium, one must excel in the field. That’s why I also prefer Alban Berg’s compositions to Arnold Schoenberg’s–despite the latter’s involvement in the development of 12-tone music. And I like Picasso’s art more than Braque’s, though they both had a hand in Cubism. The greater creator is the real one, the one whose works you’d rather absorb.

At least, that’s my reality. Is it everyone’s?

Ha. In my dreams.

Setter’s ‘Spective: When Filmmakers Lose Their Zip

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Setter Drawing for Blog 082613Willie Mays and Alfred Hitchcock had a lot in common.

“Huh?” you say. “Stop kidding me.”

But it’s true. Both started inauspiciously: Hitch with silent films, Mays on the baseball diamond. Neither hit their stride until a few years into their careers, and then they produced brilliantly season after season until declining in their later days.

And no, I don’t think Family Plot holds a candle to the master’s greatest works. Same with Mays’ Mets experience. You got flashes of their old selves, but they couldn’t bring back everything. Ultimately, what you retained was nostalgia.

And that’s what I’m thinking about many other talented filmmakers. They often peak like athletes, then may lose their inspiration, as a pitcher loses his fastball or a hitter loses his bat speed. This happened, I feel, to Akira Kurosawa, François Truffaut. And I think it’s happening to Martin Scorsese.

I’m concerned that this terrific American director has already given us his masterpieces–that we’ll have to be content with flicks like Shutter Island and Gangs of New York: flawed, intermittently enjoyable movies that lack the risks taken in his greatest works (Mean Streets, Raging Bull and Goodfellas are three examples). You still see that fluid camerawork in his movies, those crisp cuts, but the cohesiveness and definition that marked his earlier films aren’t there.

I’m sad about this, but I understand. I think it’s quite natural. You rarely find a director or an athlete who produces through the end of his or her career. Luis Buñuel, I think was one, as was Ted Williams. But they don’t appear often. Most humans ultimately decline.

I’m not saying Scorsese should stop making movies or that his career is over. Far from it. Frankly, I hope he crafts hit after hit after hit. But it’ll be hard for him to match the quality of his output from the 1970s to the mid-1990s.

You may tell me it isn’t fair to expect that–that he’s evolved as a filmmaker. I’ll agree. It isn’t fair.

Yet you always expect a home run from your hero, right?

Me, I always do.

Skip’s Quips: The (Rarely Filmed) Play’s the Thing

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Once upon a time, I was excited that Julie Taymor came out with a film version of Shakespeare’s gore-o-thon Titus Andronicus.

It wasn’t because it’s a good play. In fact, it’s kinda lousy–possibly Will’s worst: a mix of cheap thrills and cardboard characters. I think we can safely say he did a lot better later in his career.

No…the reason I was excited is that you hardly ever see Titus Andronicus staged, let alone put on the silver screen. And that brings me to a question: Why do we keep getting deluged with movie versions of the same old plays—Much Ado About Nothing comes to mind immediately–when there are numerous other, less-frequently filmed Shake Specials that are as good or better waiting to be made into movies?

I mean, where the heck is the latest cinema spectacular of The Winter’s Tale, hm? Or The Comedy of Errors? Let’s freshen the stew a bit, can’t we?

Not that I don’t dig Much Ado…though I have to confess Joss Whedon’s foray into this frothy comedy is a dish I love not. But do we really need two cinema versions of the same play within a span of 20 years–especially when the Kenneth Branagh iteration, despite some awkward casting choices, provided the definitive Beatrice and Benedick?

Guess I should sigh no more–we’ll always sway toward the well received, and there’s no doubt both Hamlet, Macbeth and the like fit the bill. Still, who’s to say there wouldn’t be an audience for a new film of The Taming of the Shrew? My feeling is, we should take advantage of Mr. Shakespeare’s infinite variety. I say: Give me excess of it.