Low-budget filmmaking creates many challenges, which can lead to distractions for the viewer. Out-of-focus shots, bad acting and cobbled-together scenes are just some of the flaws common in films made on the cheap. True filmmaking talent, however, can shine through in spite of these problems. "Clerks" showed Kevin Smith's trademark wit and working class pride despite being filmed on security cameras. "The Puffy Chair" captured the Duplass brothers' penchant for genuine emotional moments despite using an amateur cast. "Primer" featured a dazzlingly complex plot despite its $7,000 budget.
Alas, "El Mariachi" cannot match the creative sparks which ignite these three films. The debut feature of Robert Rodriguez, "El Mariachi" was famously shot in Mexico for $7,000, much of which was money Rodriguez raised by subjecting himself to medical experiments. But despite the charming backstory, "El Mariachi" is no more than a mediocre B-movie.
The singer of the film's title arrives in a small town in Mexico looking for work in a bar. Unfortunately for him, there happens to be a drug dealer in town, Azul, who dresses in a similar fashion and carries his gun in a guitar case. Azul is going on a rampage against the henchmen of Moco, the town's kingpin, who cheated him out of some money. Moco's men mistake the mariachi for Azul and try to kill him. Even more unfortunately for the mariachi, he falls in love with Domino, Moco's kept woman.
"El Mariachi" suffers from all the aforementioned low-budget flaws, but these are not what sink the film. The biggest problem here is the poorly constructed story. Every plot twist here is either totally predictable--the mariachi falling for Domino, for example--or inexplicable--the mariachi has a penchant for showing his face around town even when he knows there are armed men hunting for him.
The film has mixed success on a smaller level. There isn't a single memorable line of dialogue in the film. But Rodriguez does occasionally show some humor and charm, as when Domino playfully threatens to castrate the mariachi before he explains himself. Rodriguez also proves competent with the camera, providing some interesting framing and effective quick cuts (though he also has a penchant for rather lame, in-your-face close ups).
However, Rodriguez's subsequent career shows "El Mariachi" was a harbinger of things to come. Despite some limited successes--his segment of "Four Rooms," "Spy Kids," and "Sin City"--he has largely peddled schlock. "From Dusk Till Dawn," "Once Upon a Time in Mexico," "The Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl," and "Planet Terror" all confirm that on balance, we would have been better off if Rodriguez had foregone those medical experiments and stuck to watching bad movies instead of making them.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Scenes from a Marriage
Few filmmakers can give us compelling, personal stories that also shed light on universal truths. Ingmar Bergman is such an auteur. His 250-minute, six-episode miniseries, "Scenes from a Marriage," is a showcase for his wonderful gifts.
"Scenes" tells the story of Johan and Marianne, a couple married for ten years with two children. On the surface, they seem very happy and content, but they are clearly suppressing their deepest feelings. Johan is all masculine bluster, always willing to discuss his many talents, while Marianne seems stifled by the obligations of marriage and parenthood. (Bergman highlights the unfair burden of the working mother, which was much less discussed in 1972 than it is now.)
Then suddenly, the dam breaks. Johan announces he is leaving for Paris with a graduate student. The marriage quickly disintegrates. At first, Marianne begs Johan to stay, but she slowly evolves into a new woman. No longer concerned with pleasing Johan, she is free to fashion her life as she sees fit. It's small wonder that the film inspired many Swedish women to file for divorce.
Johan, in contrast, still suffers from a sense of isolation and longing. These differing outlooks are common in the wake of divorce, although usually it's the spouse who initiated the process who feels liberated.
But Bergman is not content with such a pat ending. In the final episode, occurring about ten years after their split, both Johan and Marianne have new spouses--whom they are cheating on with one another. Without the burdens and expectations of marriage, the lovers have rediscovered the spark that brought them together. Most interestingly, Marianne expresses guilt over the break up of the family, and hints that she sometimes feels just as lonely as Johan. Ever the visionary, Bergman suggests that women may not be able to break free of their familial instincts--and that none of us can escape the void inside us.
"Scenes" tells the story of Johan and Marianne, a couple married for ten years with two children. On the surface, they seem very happy and content, but they are clearly suppressing their deepest feelings. Johan is all masculine bluster, always willing to discuss his many talents, while Marianne seems stifled by the obligations of marriage and parenthood. (Bergman highlights the unfair burden of the working mother, which was much less discussed in 1972 than it is now.)
Then suddenly, the dam breaks. Johan announces he is leaving for Paris with a graduate student. The marriage quickly disintegrates. At first, Marianne begs Johan to stay, but she slowly evolves into a new woman. No longer concerned with pleasing Johan, she is free to fashion her life as she sees fit. It's small wonder that the film inspired many Swedish women to file for divorce.
Johan, in contrast, still suffers from a sense of isolation and longing. These differing outlooks are common in the wake of divorce, although usually it's the spouse who initiated the process who feels liberated.
But Bergman is not content with such a pat ending. In the final episode, occurring about ten years after their split, both Johan and Marianne have new spouses--whom they are cheating on with one another. Without the burdens and expectations of marriage, the lovers have rediscovered the spark that brought them together. Most interestingly, Marianne expresses guilt over the break up of the family, and hints that she sometimes feels just as lonely as Johan. Ever the visionary, Bergman suggests that women may not be able to break free of their familial instincts--and that none of us can escape the void inside us.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Flirting with Disaster
Sometimes, you want a movie to be much better than it actually is. "Flirting with Disaster" is a case in point.
Writer-director David O. Russell's subsequent features, "Three Kings" and "I Heart Huckabees," are gems. "Kings" was an entertaining, engaging action flick that managed to sneak an anti-imperialist message into a Hollywood studio production. "Huckabees" was a zany romp that combined humor and philosophy in ways no one would have thought possible.
On top of that impressive pedigree, "Flirting with Disaster" has a promising premise. Mel (Ben Stiller) has recently become a father, but can't decide what to name his son. Having been adopted, Mel has no knowledge of his real heritage. He sets off with his wife, Nancy (Patricia Arquette) and a researcher into adoption issues, Tina (Tea Leoni) in search of his birth parents.
In the first act, things roll along at an amusing pace, but the execution starts to falter when the trio meet up with a pair of Michigan cops, Paul (Richard Jenkins) and Tony (Josh Brolin). Rather improbably, the cops join Mel in his search. Meanwhile, Mel is strongly tempted to have an affair with Tina, while Tony looks to take advantage of Mel's inattention to his wife. Things only get more complicated from there, as the group meets up with Mel's birth parents, a pair of hippies who see nothing wrong with making and selling LSD.
Anyone who has seen "Huckabees" knows that Russell has no qualms about putting some rather improbable elements in his films. But while "Huckabees" is whimsical and ludicrous almost from the very beginning, "Disaster" is grounded in a very realistic plot and setting. This makes the rather absurd developments--like the extremely brazen flirtations between Mel and Tina and Nancy and Tony--feel off-kilter, rather than amusing reflections of Russell's ideas.
Moreover, Russell does a poor job of exploring his themes. He has two big ones here, infidelity and identity, which he could have given a thorough and interesting investigation. Instead, Mel's dilemmas are resolved in a few lines of dialogue amidst the ridiculous third act. These thorny issues deserve more than a pat treatment from an imaginative and insightful writer like Russell.
Writer-director David O. Russell's subsequent features, "Three Kings" and "I Heart Huckabees," are gems. "Kings" was an entertaining, engaging action flick that managed to sneak an anti-imperialist message into a Hollywood studio production. "Huckabees" was a zany romp that combined humor and philosophy in ways no one would have thought possible.
On top of that impressive pedigree, "Flirting with Disaster" has a promising premise. Mel (Ben Stiller) has recently become a father, but can't decide what to name his son. Having been adopted, Mel has no knowledge of his real heritage. He sets off with his wife, Nancy (Patricia Arquette) and a researcher into adoption issues, Tina (Tea Leoni) in search of his birth parents.
In the first act, things roll along at an amusing pace, but the execution starts to falter when the trio meet up with a pair of Michigan cops, Paul (Richard Jenkins) and Tony (Josh Brolin). Rather improbably, the cops join Mel in his search. Meanwhile, Mel is strongly tempted to have an affair with Tina, while Tony looks to take advantage of Mel's inattention to his wife. Things only get more complicated from there, as the group meets up with Mel's birth parents, a pair of hippies who see nothing wrong with making and selling LSD.
Anyone who has seen "Huckabees" knows that Russell has no qualms about putting some rather improbable elements in his films. But while "Huckabees" is whimsical and ludicrous almost from the very beginning, "Disaster" is grounded in a very realistic plot and setting. This makes the rather absurd developments--like the extremely brazen flirtations between Mel and Tina and Nancy and Tony--feel off-kilter, rather than amusing reflections of Russell's ideas.
Moreover, Russell does a poor job of exploring his themes. He has two big ones here, infidelity and identity, which he could have given a thorough and interesting investigation. Instead, Mel's dilemmas are resolved in a few lines of dialogue amidst the ridiculous third act. These thorny issues deserve more than a pat treatment from an imaginative and insightful writer like Russell.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Breakfast at Tiffany's
A good romantic comedy should be like champagne: light, bubbly and refreshing. "Breakfast at Tiffany's" is more like molasses: slow, sappy and not worth the effort.
Audrey Hepburn stars as Holly Golightly, a young gold digging New Yorker. From the moment that a young writer named Paul moves into the apartment above her, we know that he will teach her that love is more important than money.
The cockamamie plot isn't worth delving into, but the problems of the movie are. Chief among them is the pacing; at times this film is ponderously slow, expending lots of time and effort on rather minor gags. Paul, played by George Stoppard, is badly lacking in charisma, and seems particularly dull next to the burning candle that is Audrey Hepburn. Finally, the movie hasn't quite made the transition from book--it's based on a Truman Capote novel--to screen. Monologues which might seem moving on the page feel forced when we seem them spoken. Some moments which could have been handled delicately in the book, such as a scene in which Golightly calls out for her brother in her sleep, seem ridiculous in the film.
"Breakfast at Tiffany's," which was made in 1961, interestingly straddles the divide between Old and New Hollywood. On the one hand, it takes a surprisingly frank attitude towards sex, barely bothering to conceal the out-of-wedlock liaisons of its characters. On the other, it features Mr. Yunioshi, a walking stereotype played by Mickey Rooney. Suffice to say that this squinty-eyed, buck-toothed Japanese character was not the Irish actor's finest hour.
The "Breakfast" filmmakers appear to have taken the attitude the Cleveland Cavaliers took with LeBron James: we have the perfect star, so we don't need anything else. Hepburn is charming, but the rest of the film is unfortunately a clunker.
Audrey Hepburn stars as Holly Golightly, a young gold digging New Yorker. From the moment that a young writer named Paul moves into the apartment above her, we know that he will teach her that love is more important than money.
The cockamamie plot isn't worth delving into, but the problems of the movie are. Chief among them is the pacing; at times this film is ponderously slow, expending lots of time and effort on rather minor gags. Paul, played by George Stoppard, is badly lacking in charisma, and seems particularly dull next to the burning candle that is Audrey Hepburn. Finally, the movie hasn't quite made the transition from book--it's based on a Truman Capote novel--to screen. Monologues which might seem moving on the page feel forced when we seem them spoken. Some moments which could have been handled delicately in the book, such as a scene in which Golightly calls out for her brother in her sleep, seem ridiculous in the film.
"Breakfast at Tiffany's," which was made in 1961, interestingly straddles the divide between Old and New Hollywood. On the one hand, it takes a surprisingly frank attitude towards sex, barely bothering to conceal the out-of-wedlock liaisons of its characters. On the other, it features Mr. Yunioshi, a walking stereotype played by Mickey Rooney. Suffice to say that this squinty-eyed, buck-toothed Japanese character was not the Irish actor's finest hour.
The "Breakfast" filmmakers appear to have taken the attitude the Cleveland Cavaliers took with LeBron James: we have the perfect star, so we don't need anything else. Hepburn is charming, but the rest of the film is unfortunately a clunker.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Shampoo
"Shampoo" is that rare film, a well-intentioned sex comedy. Unfortunately, it doesn't quite manage to become that even rarer feat, an effective sex comedy.
Warren Beatty is George Roundy, a hairdresser dating Jill (Goldie Hawn). He's trying to get money out of financier Lester Knapf (Jack Warden) to open his own salon. Meanwhile, he is having sex with Lester's mistress Jackie (Julie Christie), wife (Lee Grant) and daughter (Carrie Fisher, in a rather un-Leia like role). After a series of minor misadventures over the course of a day and a half, George realizes he loves Jackie. But just as he does so, Lester runs off with Jackie, presumably to marry her.
"Shampoo" is all about hypocrisy, not only sexual but also political. (The film takes place during the 1968 election and finds many opportunities to stick in some ironic Nixon quotes.) But it never manages to offer any real response to that hypocrisy. Jackie is supposed to be the most honest of these philanderers. Yet the characters are too underwritten for her decision to stay with Lester to have any meaning. Is she going for the money? Is she turning her back on a dishonest man (even if it means loving another one)? Does she really love Lester? Any of these interpretations are plausible given her words and actions. Such ambiguity might make another film feel more realistic and true, but for a rather broad comedy it just seems that the filmmakers haven't sorted it out.
Moreover, while there are a few funny moments here, the film never crackles with the wit that's needed for this subject matter. It's easy to skewer vapid, pretty Californians, but doing it well takes the kind of verve that the Coen brothers so deftly display. Beatty and Robert Towne, who co-wrote the script, just don't have that kind of cleverness in them.
Director Hal Ashby has no visual imagination whatsoever. He helmed some of the most famous films of the 1970s, including "Harold and Maude" and "The Last Detail," but he is wholly at the mercy of his script and actors, which don't come through here. The only original music, provided by Paul Simon, is a cheap knockoff of the soundtrack to "The Graduate." It's nothing more than Simon harmonizing and strumming his guitar; it could easily have been written and performed in a matter of minutes.
Beatty famously sought to make "Shampoo" for over a decade. He wanted to skewer his image as a womanizer with this film. While it may be entertaining for him, the rest of us need a bit more than a film about a playboy taken down to size.
Warren Beatty is George Roundy, a hairdresser dating Jill (Goldie Hawn). He's trying to get money out of financier Lester Knapf (Jack Warden) to open his own salon. Meanwhile, he is having sex with Lester's mistress Jackie (Julie Christie), wife (Lee Grant) and daughter (Carrie Fisher, in a rather un-Leia like role). After a series of minor misadventures over the course of a day and a half, George realizes he loves Jackie. But just as he does so, Lester runs off with Jackie, presumably to marry her.
"Shampoo" is all about hypocrisy, not only sexual but also political. (The film takes place during the 1968 election and finds many opportunities to stick in some ironic Nixon quotes.) But it never manages to offer any real response to that hypocrisy. Jackie is supposed to be the most honest of these philanderers. Yet the characters are too underwritten for her decision to stay with Lester to have any meaning. Is she going for the money? Is she turning her back on a dishonest man (even if it means loving another one)? Does she really love Lester? Any of these interpretations are plausible given her words and actions. Such ambiguity might make another film feel more realistic and true, but for a rather broad comedy it just seems that the filmmakers haven't sorted it out.
Moreover, while there are a few funny moments here, the film never crackles with the wit that's needed for this subject matter. It's easy to skewer vapid, pretty Californians, but doing it well takes the kind of verve that the Coen brothers so deftly display. Beatty and Robert Towne, who co-wrote the script, just don't have that kind of cleverness in them.
Director Hal Ashby has no visual imagination whatsoever. He helmed some of the most famous films of the 1970s, including "Harold and Maude" and "The Last Detail," but he is wholly at the mercy of his script and actors, which don't come through here. The only original music, provided by Paul Simon, is a cheap knockoff of the soundtrack to "The Graduate." It's nothing more than Simon harmonizing and strumming his guitar; it could easily have been written and performed in a matter of minutes.
Beatty famously sought to make "Shampoo" for over a decade. He wanted to skewer his image as a womanizer with this film. While it may be entertaining for him, the rest of us need a bit more than a film about a playboy taken down to size.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Cashback
"Cashback" is a weird hybrid: it wants to be an introspective relationship drama and a raucous sex comedy at the same time. It fails on both levels.
Ben (Sean Biggerstaff) is an art student who just broke up with his girlfriend of over two years. He laments his fate as only a self-absorbed young man can. His anguish is such that he is unable to sleep for four weeks. (Physically impossible? Sure. But how many chances do you get to rip off "Fight Club"?)
Stuck with a lot of extra time on his hands, Ben takes a job in a supermarket. He meets a pretty young cashier, they fall in love, they fall out of love, they reunite. Rinse, wash, repeat.
A film like this could fail out of blandness, but "Cashback" has more pretentious aims. Ben develops a supernatural power: the ability to stop time. This power is used to trot out every lame truism about time you've ever heard: you can't turn back the clock, you've got to live in the moment, and so on. Enlightened yet?
Ben first uses his power as only a horny artist can: to strip women naked and draw them. Everything you need to know about "Cashback" is that it takes this scene--which would be great for a porn film--and tries to pass it off as somehow insightful. Ben gives us some nonsense about how artists love the female form and women really want to be admired in this way. I must admit that I was unaware that women want to be treated as objects rather than people. Writer-director Sean Ellis actually wants us to believe this is his brain and not his libido talking.
Ellis does use some interesting techniques to seamlessly shift from flashbacks to present day sequences. It would be nice if he could use this technique to show us something worthwhile, as opposed to a recounting of the time Ben saw an exchange student naked.
There's nothing wrong with a movie about sex. There is something wrong, however, with movie that thinks that men wanting to strip women naked is somehow novel, revealing or funny.
Ben (Sean Biggerstaff) is an art student who just broke up with his girlfriend of over two years. He laments his fate as only a self-absorbed young man can. His anguish is such that he is unable to sleep for four weeks. (Physically impossible? Sure. But how many chances do you get to rip off "Fight Club"?)
Stuck with a lot of extra time on his hands, Ben takes a job in a supermarket. He meets a pretty young cashier, they fall in love, they fall out of love, they reunite. Rinse, wash, repeat.
A film like this could fail out of blandness, but "Cashback" has more pretentious aims. Ben develops a supernatural power: the ability to stop time. This power is used to trot out every lame truism about time you've ever heard: you can't turn back the clock, you've got to live in the moment, and so on. Enlightened yet?
Ben first uses his power as only a horny artist can: to strip women naked and draw them. Everything you need to know about "Cashback" is that it takes this scene--which would be great for a porn film--and tries to pass it off as somehow insightful. Ben gives us some nonsense about how artists love the female form and women really want to be admired in this way. I must admit that I was unaware that women want to be treated as objects rather than people. Writer-director Sean Ellis actually wants us to believe this is his brain and not his libido talking.
Ellis does use some interesting techniques to seamlessly shift from flashbacks to present day sequences. It would be nice if he could use this technique to show us something worthwhile, as opposed to a recounting of the time Ben saw an exchange student naked.
There's nothing wrong with a movie about sex. There is something wrong, however, with movie that thinks that men wanting to strip women naked is somehow novel, revealing or funny.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Baghead
Over the past five years, the "mumblecore" movement has gained steam in indie film circles. Shot on digital cameras with very low budgets, mumblecore films are typically dramas featuring improvised dialogue and non-professional actors. The strength of mumblecore is the level of realism it achieves: it captures the gestures, glances and awkward pauses of real people that Hollywood invariably misses.
Mark and Jay Duplass became heroes of the movement with their 2005 film, "The Puffy Chair". Their follow-up, "Baghead," takes their craft to new heights. The film follows four friends, Matt, Chad, Michelle and Catherine, who go to a cabin in the woods to write a movie.
On one level, this is a relationship drama. Chad is hopelessly in love with Michelle. Michelle, however, is more interested in Matt, who wouldn't mind sleeping with her. This quickly creates problems, due to the (rather hilarious) bromance between Chad and Matt--not to mention the fact that Catherine and Matt have been dating on and off for eleven years.
Clearly, there's melodrama to spare. But then you realize that the film is working on another level: it's a horror pastiche. Someone with a bag on their head is sneaking around in the night. All of the elements of a horror film are there: four potential victims who aren't too bright, isolated in the woods, with the requisite pretty blondes.
The film achieves a solid level of suspense and mystery with this plotline. But "Baghead" is also working on still another level, as a commentary on the mumblecore movement. This becomes clear in the opening scene, when the friends watch a ridiculous film by real-life actor and screenwriter Jett Garner. The film's "meta" aspect becomes fully apparent at the climax.
The Duplass brothers are working on high and low levels here. This is a film that works as both melodrama and realism. It's both a B-movie entertainment and a commentary on their films. And it's a sign that the brothers may be ready to take the movement they spearheaded in new directions.
Mark and Jay Duplass became heroes of the movement with their 2005 film, "The Puffy Chair". Their follow-up, "Baghead," takes their craft to new heights. The film follows four friends, Matt, Chad, Michelle and Catherine, who go to a cabin in the woods to write a movie.
On one level, this is a relationship drama. Chad is hopelessly in love with Michelle. Michelle, however, is more interested in Matt, who wouldn't mind sleeping with her. This quickly creates problems, due to the (rather hilarious) bromance between Chad and Matt--not to mention the fact that Catherine and Matt have been dating on and off for eleven years.
Clearly, there's melodrama to spare. But then you realize that the film is working on another level: it's a horror pastiche. Someone with a bag on their head is sneaking around in the night. All of the elements of a horror film are there: four potential victims who aren't too bright, isolated in the woods, with the requisite pretty blondes.
The film achieves a solid level of suspense and mystery with this plotline. But "Baghead" is also working on still another level, as a commentary on the mumblecore movement. This becomes clear in the opening scene, when the friends watch a ridiculous film by real-life actor and screenwriter Jett Garner. The film's "meta" aspect becomes fully apparent at the climax.
The Duplass brothers are working on high and low levels here. This is a film that works as both melodrama and realism. It's both a B-movie entertainment and a commentary on their films. And it's a sign that the brothers may be ready to take the movement they spearheaded in new directions.
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