Harris Savides (1957-2012)

Harris Savides, the BAFTA nominated cinematographer and contributing DP for Gus Van Sant, Ridley Scott, and David Fincher, died today at the age of 55.  In a career that has spanned almost 25 years, he started his work in film as the director of music videos for R.E.M., Madonna, and Michael Jackson. His panache for German-Expressionist chiaroscuro mixed brilliantly under the direction David Fincher when Savides acted as cinematographer for Fincher's 1997 thriller, The Game. Savides would bring the same film-noir style when he collaborated with Fincher in 2007 for the film, Zodiac, as well as reveal the world of corruption and drug smuggling in Ridley Scott's American Gangster, for which Savides was nominated for a BAFTA for Best Cinematography. Savides is best known for acting as DP under Gus Van Sant for his films Gerry, Elephant, and Milk. The last film he worked on was Sophia Coppola's The Bling Ring, which is scheduled for release in 2013.

Savides was a brilliant cinematographer; like those before him, such as Conrad L. Hall, he managed to bring beauty and horror within the shadows of the characters onscreen with minimal lighting, such as he had displayed in Fincher's films. Also, his use of the stedicam in Van Sant's films are as chilling as Kubrick's floating camera was used in The Shining. Look at how he manages to add the suspense to the post-Columbine film, Elephant, as the camera hovers around like a fly on the wall. His close-ups and tracking shots of the actors are chilling to watch, whether it is a tortured Michael Douglas in The Game, or a vengeance-filled Josh Brolin in Milk as he walks down the hallways of San Francisco's City Hall ready to assassinate Harvey Milk. There are very few cinematographers like Savides and his use of lighting and positioning of the camera enhanced the emotions of the audience, as well as brought the canon of films he had worked on to a higher level as anticipated by the directors he had worked with.              

The Master

3 1/2 out of 4 Stars

Paul Thomas Anderson is the master of modern cinema, there’s no disputing that if you look back at his five previous masterpieces; Sydney (Hard Eight), Boogie Nights, Magnolia, Punch-Drunk Love, and There Will Be Blood. Anderson’s sixth film, The Master, is a film of beautiful imagery with a flawed story to tell.                                                                                                                 

              Set at the end of World War II, Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) is a former Navel seaman trying to adapt back to the real world after witnessing the horrors of the Pacific. Quell is far from a soldier dealing with post-traumatic stress; his anger and sexual conquests come from an area so deep that Daniel Plainview couldn’t dig it up with all the derricks in There Will Be Blood. Enter Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman), the flamboyant leader of a religious organization known only as The Cause. Peanut galleries have flocked with speculation over Hoffman’s performance mirroring the real-life exploits of L. Ron Hubbard, the founder of Scientology. The Scientology parallel is just a dead end as The Cause can be broken down into any religious organization. The chance meeting between Freddie and Lancaster lead to a love-hate relationship between two men trying to find meaning in their lives, whether it is from illusions of grandeur to lead-based alcohol.

             Despite the flaws in the plot, it is the actors that hold The Master together. Joaquin Phoenix gives ones of the most intense, violent and darkly comic performances of the year as Freddie Quell. From the subtle idiosyncrasies expressed on his face to the balls-to-the-wall rage unleashed on others, his performance is an explosive powder keg that will leave an aftershock long after the credits roll. Phoenix’s rage is mixed with a charm and wily sense of humor that he managed to pull off in real life a few years ago with his short-lived rap career.

            Philip Seymour Hoffman’s portrayal of Lancaster Dodd marks his fifth collaboration with Anderson in The Master. Hoffman’s pathos and wit amongst his followers mirrors that of Orson Welles or Charles Laughton in their prime. Like Freddie, Dodd is a man uncertain of his existence to the point that when he is boxed in a corner, he leaves an impression that will leave the hairs on the back of your neck stand. Hoffman’s chemistry with Phoenix is unbelievable in two key scenes in the movie; one involves a wide-eyed dissection of Freddie’s past while the other involves both men in a jail cell that makes De Niro’s prison scene in Raging Bull pale in comparison.

                Behind every powerful actor is a powerful actress, and Amy Adams is one of them. Her performance as Lancaster’s devoted wife is mesmerizing as she stands as a woman with as much as a thrill for power as her husband to the point where she takes command over Lancaster in a memorable bathroom scene. Adams is, without a doubt, one of the great actresses of her generation as she fires from all cylinders with such restraint that it’s chilling.      

                Anderson shot the film in 65mm film, as well as edited by hand. After seeing the film in both 70mm format and 35mm format, the visuals are equally seductive and powerful that the spirits of David Lean and George Stevens are smiling within the cosmos. The visuals are complemented with Jonny Greenwood’s intense score that is a step forward from the minimalist approach he took to scoring There Will Be Blood. 

             Technical aspects aside, the story does fall short with some head scratching uncertainty over the resolution of the story that almost mirrors that to the surreal prose of Thomas Pynchon. If one were to dissect the film with a fine tooth comb, it is a unique blend of John Huston's controversial documentary, Let There Be Light (at least, the first ten minutes of the film), and Elmer Gantry. All things considered, The Master may not be Anderson’s strongest film, but it is an unforgettable film that will leave you thirsty for a second viewing.      

Tony Scott (1944-2012)

Tony Scott, director of the classic blockbuster films Top Gun and Crimson Tide, died at the age of 68 from a suicide attempt. The Emmy-Award winning producer jumped to his death on Sunday afternoon from the Vincent Thomas Bridge in Los Angeles. The LAPD found a suicide note in Scott's Toyota Prius, which was parked along the bridge.

Born and raised in England, Scott, along with his brother, Ridley, became the successful directors of the Eighties; the blockbuster films Scott directed were Top Gun, Beverly Hills Cop II and True Romance. The no-holds bar action and suspense became trademarks for Tony Scott's films. His last set of films included the 2009 remake of The Taking of Pelham 123 and 2010's Unstoppable. Along with his brother, Tony co-founded Scott Free Productions, which has produced several television shows, such as Numb3rs and The Good Wife, as well as Oscar nominated films, like Gladiator and American Gangster.

Scott was a visual entertainer, who knew how to keep the audience on the edge of their seats; from the aerial dogfights in Top Gun to the hotel room shootout in True Romance. His guerrilla-styled cinematography and fast-paced editing became the inspiration for directors like Oliver Stone, Paul Greengrass and Kathryn Bigelow. Scott is survived by his wife and two children.          

The Beasts of the Southern Wild

This summer has been packed with box office hits (The Dark Knight Rises) and art house favorites (Moonrise Kingdom). However, one film stands out as not only the best film of the summer, but one of the top films of the year, The Beasts of the Southern Wild. Based on Lucy Alibar’s play “Juicy and Delicious”, Hushpuppy is a six-year old girl trying to survive in the squalor of her Delta, post-Katrina, home by attempting to find her mother, while her father, Wink, is dying of heart failure. Despite his alcoholism and embittered attitude, Wink teaches his daughter how to become independent by living off the land and water.                                                                          

 Like Mike Nichols and Sam Mendes, Benh Zeitlin has created a directorial debut that is sure to be a modern masterpiece as time moves on. Zeitlin managed to create a dark and beautiful film by mixing the cinema verite style of John Cassavetes while honing in on Hushpuppy’s nightmarish/wide-eyed imagination that mirrors the work of Terry Gilliam. Zeitlin’s guerrilla styled filmmaking is complimented by his own musical score with its suspenseful pizzicato passages and Appalachian-styled sequences that echo T-Bone Burnett’s Southern-infused film scores from Crazy Heart and O Brother, Where Art Thou?

                

In addition to the incredible filmmaking is an incredible cast of unknowns, who deliver astonishing performances from start to finish. Quvenzhané Wallis is awe-inspiring as the young, tenacious Hushpuppy. Only six-years old, Wallis delivers a moving performance of shifting from childhood to adulthood through pain and hope. New Orleans bakery owner, Dwight Henry, is incredible as the stubborn and sickly patriarch who manages to teach Hushpuppy the importance of standing strong in a sorrowful world through love as tough as nails.

                 

The Dark Knight Rises might have been explosive with its quarter of a billion dollar budget, but with a cast of unknowns and a budget under $2 million, The Beasts of the Southern Wild is proof positive that you don’t need to be swayed by dazzling special effects and star power to get a profound response; you can easily be moved to tears with a heartfelt and harrowing tale, such as this film, that will leave you speechless when the credits roll.      

Four out of Four Stars

The Dark Knight Rises

The Dark Knight Rises, the third and final chapter in the Christopher Nolan-directed trilogy, has risen by succeeding in delivering an exhilarating mix of fast-paced action that does service to the DC Comics, yet falters when Christopher Nolan tries to tie all the loose knots from the first two Batman films under his direction.  As gifted as a director and writer Nolan is, it seems that the mix of branching off into philosophical/political commentary within the confines of a straightforward superhero film has made this film, like his previous two, fall through the cracks. Having said that, The Dark Knight Rises stands out as the best film in the trilogy.                                                                                                                                                                   
Eight years after the death of Harvey “Two-Face” Dent, Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) lives as a billionaire recluse in similar respects to Howard Hughes after being the patsy involved in Dent’s death. Wayne goes back into the role of Batman after the muzzled behemoth, Bane (Tom Hardy), plans to destroy Gotham City and its inhabitants after collaborating with the burglar beauty, Selina Kyle, a.k.a. Catwoman (Anne Hathaway).  Meanwhile, Commissioner Gordon (Gary Oldman) battles the internal pain he suffered in the previous film, while mentoring Blake (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), a young police officer who is part of a dying breed of honest members of law enforcement.                                                    

Not to give too much away, the film blends together the current events of discontent, such as the financial crisis of 2008 and the Occupy Wall St. movement, with overarching perspectives over society being plunged into a dystopian nightmare that mirrors that of the prophetic words of Karl Marx and Anthony Burgess. At the center of the philosophical hedge maze is Nietzsche’s rhetoric made manifest, (i.e. “staring into the abyss”, “Humanity is a tightrope tied between animal and superhuman”) through the prison system that echoes a similar visual interpretation from Midnight Express. As deep and prophetic as it sounds, Nolan’s philosophical smorgasbord is overshadowed by the instant gratification of explosions, one-liners, and fight sequences that seem like shot to shot remakes of Scorsese’s Gangs of New York and Eisenstein’s Battleship Potemkin, without the gore and propaganda of the latter film.                                                                                                                                                   

The silver linings in the distorted clouds are the performances delivered by a superb cast. Christian Bale goes through the gauntlet of physical and emotional pain as the embittered Bruce Wayne. Tom Hardy may not size up to the flamboyance of Heath Ledger when he played the Joker, but his performance as Bane is dark, yet campy, as his voice sounds like a muzzled Sean Connery. Anne Hathaway is zesty and riveting as Catwoman, as she stands conflicted in her philosophical principles of the capitalist class system. Fresh from playing exiled spy in Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, Gary Oldman goes back into the role of Commissioner Gordon with sheer energy combined with the subtlety of his Oscar-nominated role as George Smiley. Rounding off the cast is a sharp-tonged Marion Cotillard, an always reliable Morgan Freeman, and Michael Caine giving an emotionally stirring performance as Batman’s right-hand man, Alfred.                                                                   


Despite the conflicted loose ends to plot points and Nolan trying to throw everything but the kitchen sink, The Dark Knight Rises is a satisfying end to Nolan’s three-part symphony to Bob Kane’s comic book series; it may feel compacted by having everything shoved into a two hour and forty minute time frame, yet it still holds out as an entertaining blockbuster coated around a philosophical bubble.        

3 out of 4 Stars

Darkness Over Aurora

I remember asking my high school history teacher about his views over the release of United 93, and if it were "too soon" for audiences to digest the horrific acts of violence witnessed by the world on September 11th. He responded by saying that film-goers don't like to be challenged by reliving events of such tragedy; if anything, films are an escape from the harsh glimpses of reality. Reality and tragedy combined this past Friday when James Holmes, a 24-year-old University of Colorado graduate student, threw smoke grenades into an Aurora, CO movie theater and fired an automatic weapon killing 12 people and wounding several others during the midnight showing of The Dark Knight Rises.
      
As theories and speculations have erupted, and continue to be spouted, by pundits and specialists in the last 48 hours over the safety of going to the movies, it is necessary to remember the lives of those lost, as well as those who were physically and mentally wounded by the senseless acts of violence. Then again, all acts of violence are senseless. Despite what happened in Aurora, no one should have to fear for their life when all one wants to do is bask in the comforting glow of the movie screen and enjoy their favorite films either by themselves, their family and friends.

Oscar Hangover

I've never really gave my two cents after the Academy Awards since starting this blog, but at the request of my fellow film fanatics, here it goes. This year's ceremony was predictable and enjoyable at the same time. Billy Crystal rehashes the same gags with dry wit as he had done the eight previous times he's hosted the awards, which is a relief from the asinine ceremony last year when James Franco and Anne Hathaway hosted.

In terms of the award highlights, I was taken by Christopher Plummer's acceptance speech for best supporting actor when the 82 year old legend gazed at the award and said, "You're two years older than me, where have you been all my life?"

The second highlight of the evening was Asghar Farhadi's film A Separation winning best foreign language film. The Iranian filmmaker emphasized the importance of the country's culture in the midst of political rumblings between the West and Iran; "They (the Iranian people) are happy not just because of an important award or a film or a filmmaker, but because at the time when talk of war, intimidation and aggression is exchanged between politicians, the name of their country, Iran, is spoken here through her glorious culture."

The sighs of disappointment came during the handout of the Best Actor and Best Actress awards when Meryl Streep won her third Oscar for her performance as Margaret Thatcher over Viola Davis' stunning performance in The Help. As for Best Actor, I was content to see Jean Dujardin win for his silent role in The Artist, yet I was secretly hoping Gary Oldman finally received the gold for his chilling portrayal of George Smiley in Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy.

The peak of the evening was when The Artist won Best Picture, being the first silent film winning the high accolade since the first Oscar ceremony in 1929. In particular, Michel Hazanavicius' acceptance speech included three people in his life "Billy Wilder, Billy Wilder, and Billy Wilder", which was an homage to Orson Welles responding to who were his favorite filmmakers when he remarked "John Ford, John Ford, and John Ford".

After the gold and backslapping season, the 2012 film season looks bright. This summer, I look forward to seeing Terrence Malick's next two films, Voyage of Time and his untitled romance starring Jessica Chastain and Rachel McAdams. On top of that, Wes Anderson returns to the screen with his summer camp film Moonrise Kingdom starring Bruce Willis, Edward Norton, and Bill Murray (who else?). The highly anticipated film at the top of my list is Paul Thomas Anderson's new film The Master, which is based around religion in 1950s California. Will it be bigger than There Will Be Blood? Time will only tell.