After my marathon of Roger Corman's eight Edgar Allan Poe
horror films last week I started to think about the unfamiliar classic b-movie
horror genre in general and whether it might be good for me to, well, "go
swimming" as it were in a pool of celluloid blood. Or something.
Even though I've watched my fair share of horror films I
think it's safe to say that I'm a horror newbie with a lot more to learn, but
with the horror genre being such a popular one at the moment there's clearly buckets
and buckets of gory screen outings to trawl through of varying quality. Too
many, you might say. Or say with absolute certainty.
So where do I start? How do I decide which to try and which
to steer clear of? And what's the best overall purchase to make in order to compile
the best collection possible?
What instantly came to mind was Hammer - a name that to me
means drab, dated 70s British rural chillers, but I think that's because I've just
not seen the right ones over the years, and after a little looking around I
found there might be more in it than merely dodgy hairstyles, dour
cinematography and cheap locations.
So I managed to dig up around ten or so websites/blogs that
list their favourite/what they think are the best Hammer horror films. I've
made no note of the sites and, to be honest, I've probably made the odd mistake
here and there (ain't I a pro?!), but basically here are the fifteen films that
cropped up the most (in descending order of the number of mentions):
x10
Dracula AKA Horror of Dracula
(1958)
The Curse of Frankenstein
x8
Curse of the Werewolf
x7
The Devil Rides Out
x6
Dr. Jekyll & Sister Hyde
The Hound of the Baskervilles
The Brides of Dracula
x5
The Plague of the Zombies
The Mummy
x4
Twins of Evil
Quatermass and the Pit
The Revenge of Frankenstein
Dracula, Prince of Darkness
The Vampire Lovers
Vampire Circus
So there you are. I think it's now time to go shopping and
start building up my collection. No marathon this time, methinks, as I might
end up with too many for that sort of thing, but a season certainly!
Are there any personal recommendations that you can make?
Let me know!
Tuesday, 24 February 2015
Friday, 20 February 2015
Thoughts on a Movie Marathon: Roger Corman's Poe Cycle
Well I had about 5 hours sleep after finishing the marathon an hour earlier than expected, but still felt a bit rough after that. I ended up burning out a couple of hours later and fell asleep on the sofa watching sitcoms, but that usually happens even on a good day so, well, there you go.
So was the marathon worth it? Yes, they were all interesting films in their own right and each very different, which was a surprise in itself. I started getting really tired and fed up halfway through Tales of Terror but had a second wind during The Raven after an internal struggle over whether to give up for the night. I must admit that during that stage I seriously asked myself: "Why are you staying up all night doing this? Why didn't you just watch them all during the day? You have plenty of free time, you fool!", which was a fair point, but I reminded myself of the four reasons I laid out in my Prelude To A Movie Marathon post which still stand as decent arguments. Plus, well, I guess it added a bit more pressure to the event - there didn't seem to be much danger in just sitting on my arse during the day like I always do.
So here are a few thoughts on each film as best that I can remember them:
THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER
This was a beautiful, still and poignant beginning. It felt like an emo's wet dream as the Usher family shuffle about in their big old house just wanting to be alone. The colours were vibrant and lush, but Corman's direction was basic point-and-shoot stuff which didn't fill be with confidence - but I was sort of expecting that. The story struck a chord with me as, like the Ushers, I've been purposefully isolating myself (mainly from my own family) since 2010 after a long bout of depression which inadvertently left a few people close to me a little upset. I see it as giving them all a break from me but, since I guess I'll be battling with depression for the rest of my life, maybe just communicating with them via the internet is for the best. But enough about me! I'd recommend this to anyone as a beautiful, sombre, period melodrama with a touch of horror at the end.
THE PIT AND THE PENDULUM
It surprised me that this took a leap back in time to be set in a completely different era. It's basically the dodgy ruff show, but that's okay. There are some great matte paintings by Albert Whitlock which made me yearn for a simpler time; in fact I've actually started to wonder whether, as people get desensitised and maybe even sick of CGI, the art of handcrafted special effects and illusion in film will make a return. I must admit that this was the first but perhaps only film where I was imagining the parody as it went along. Not as striking as Usher but very much a worthwhile watch.
THE PREMATURE BURIAL
This was fun and perhaps the cheapest looking of the lot. Not in a bad way, mind you, as I do love studios standing in for locations, but the facts of the case are there for anyone who doesn't. Ray Milland is an okay-ish stand in for Vincent Price but lacks the same magnetism. The story felt more like it should have been the length of a TV episode than a feature as there's not really enough in there to sustain it, but it is by no means substandard. Plus the ever elaborate ways that Milland comes up with to escape his possible early grave are quite amusing and over the top. Dynamite? Really?
TALES OF TERROR
THE RAVEN
Now I really wasn't expecting this to be a comedy, which took me by surprise, but once I got into the groove of it I ended up really enjoying myself. This one was the first that felt like, well, I guess a proper film. They're all proper films, of course, but this had more elaborate lighting and special effects, not to mention some powerhouse acting talent. It actually felt more like an early Mel Brooks film, perhaps more The Producers than Young Frankenstein, where the humour isn't joke orientated so much but more to be found in the sense of fun and in the performances. It's just a nice, ambling story about rivalling magicians. I guess you could say it's the best Discworld adaptation we've had so far, even though it was made over twenty years prior to. If nothing else it's worth watching for seeing Vincent Price, Boris Karloff and Peter Lorre sat around a table with a very young and handsome Jack Nicholson. I'll be watching this one again soon, for sure!
THE HAUNTED PALACE
So here's the "black sheep" of the family, as it were. Not in that it's bad, which it is not by any means, but just in that it's not actually an Edgar Allan Poe story but a H. P. Lovecraft one with a Poe title and poem stuck on to make some money. Poor ol' Lovecraft - his name's worth a few bucks, surely? Price manages to essentially play two parts in this film - the spirit of an evil deceased ancestor trying to possess the body of his genial descendant - very well. I kind of lost my way towards the end and there were some Edward D. Wood Jr quality lines in there, but the torch-wielding villager finale is fun and the eerie atmosphere right up there with all the others. Solid but not greatly engaging.
THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH
This is where the evening took a really unexpected turn. Filmed inEngland Britain
THE TOMB OF LIGEIA
And here is where I officially checked out for the evening/morning. Don't get me wrong, I watched it and saw everything happen, but I wasn't really listening and basically found myself getting comfy and ready for bed. Funny that, though, as I was curious to see this one the most from a filmmaking standpoint as it was rushed into production simply to utilise the remaining budget, sets and some of the same actors from Masque since they had finished that one ahead of schedule. It doesn't look rushed, mind you, and feels more akin to Usher in it's slow, thoughtful pace involving characters hiding from the world. Maybe that's why they call this series of films a "cycle" - we're basically back where we started. The filmmakers tried to make Vincent Price look about thirty years younger with wigs and make-up but he weirdly ends up looking like a cross between Peter Sellers and Alan Rickman, which is fine and actually kind of works in a strange, otherworldly way. You don't feel like you're watching Price, but you are, but you're sort of not. I guess the thing to say is he does well pretending not to be himself because him is not who they really wanted to cast but had to because of demands from the studio, which is very sporting of him. I might watch this one again just so I can concentrate a bit more as it actually looked quite interesting. The literal catfight at the end certainly warrants closer inspection
So in conclusion, what have I learned? Well, all the stories were interesting and quite inspiring from a writing perspective; considering all the films were period dramas they didn't feel cheap, in fact I suspect it was mostly the filmmaking that was restricted by budget; Vincent Price has a soft, humorous side, which I didn't realise, and he seems to let his guard down as the series progressed... maybe he and Corman's team ended up feeling like a close family after spending four years in each others' company; and Corman ain't no great visualist: all the best things to look at in these films aren't by his hand, as far as I can tell, but they're no less entertaining for it.
So I'd say none of these films are bad but some are lesser than others. There's real effort put into all of them, which is more than you can say for films costing hundreds of times more nowadays, and they're all very satisfying experiences. If you see one on television don't turn your nose up - give them a go. Which would I recommend buying? Hmmm, probably The Fall of the House of Usher, The Raven and The Masque of the Red Death.
Go forth and experience, you devils!
So was the marathon worth it? Yes, they were all interesting films in their own right and each very different, which was a surprise in itself. I started getting really tired and fed up halfway through Tales of Terror but had a second wind during The Raven after an internal struggle over whether to give up for the night. I must admit that during that stage I seriously asked myself: "Why are you staying up all night doing this? Why didn't you just watch them all during the day? You have plenty of free time, you fool!", which was a fair point, but I reminded myself of the four reasons I laid out in my Prelude To A Movie Marathon post which still stand as decent arguments. Plus, well, I guess it added a bit more pressure to the event - there didn't seem to be much danger in just sitting on my arse during the day like I always do.
So here are a few thoughts on each film as best that I can remember them:
THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER
This was a beautiful, still and poignant beginning. It felt like an emo's wet dream as the Usher family shuffle about in their big old house just wanting to be alone. The colours were vibrant and lush, but Corman's direction was basic point-and-shoot stuff which didn't fill be with confidence - but I was sort of expecting that. The story struck a chord with me as, like the Ushers, I've been purposefully isolating myself (mainly from my own family) since 2010 after a long bout of depression which inadvertently left a few people close to me a little upset. I see it as giving them all a break from me but, since I guess I'll be battling with depression for the rest of my life, maybe just communicating with them via the internet is for the best. But enough about me! I'd recommend this to anyone as a beautiful, sombre, period melodrama with a touch of horror at the end.
THE PIT AND THE PENDULUM
It surprised me that this took a leap back in time to be set in a completely different era. It's basically the dodgy ruff show, but that's okay. There are some great matte paintings by Albert Whitlock which made me yearn for a simpler time; in fact I've actually started to wonder whether, as people get desensitised and maybe even sick of CGI, the art of handcrafted special effects and illusion in film will make a return. I must admit that this was the first but perhaps only film where I was imagining the parody as it went along. Not as striking as Usher but very much a worthwhile watch.
THE PREMATURE BURIAL
This was fun and perhaps the cheapest looking of the lot. Not in a bad way, mind you, as I do love studios standing in for locations, but the facts of the case are there for anyone who doesn't. Ray Milland is an okay-ish stand in for Vincent Price but lacks the same magnetism. The story felt more like it should have been the length of a TV episode than a feature as there's not really enough in there to sustain it, but it is by no means substandard. Plus the ever elaborate ways that Milland comes up with to escape his possible early grave are quite amusing and over the top. Dynamite? Really?
TALES OF TERROR
And here's where the series trips up a little bit. I was wondering whether this might have been the inspiration for The Simpsons' Treehouse of Horror vignettes, but who knows. The first and third stories are familiar territory and just about forgettable, but the secondis more interesting in that it's sort of a failure. It's basically The Cask of Amontillado/The Telltale Heart done for laughs, with an ill looking but still great Peter Lorre hamming it up as a jealous alcoholic. There are some dated still-frame zooms which feel very 60s that draw you out of the experience, but apart from that and the fairly damp storytelling it's still an entertaining watch. In fact the last story - The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar - has a touch of The Exorcist to it and is a little disturbing if you think about it too hard.
THE RAVEN
Now I really wasn't expecting this to be a comedy, which took me by surprise, but once I got into the groove of it I ended up really enjoying myself. This one was the first that felt like, well, I guess a proper film. They're all proper films, of course, but this had more elaborate lighting and special effects, not to mention some powerhouse acting talent. It actually felt more like an early Mel Brooks film, perhaps more The Producers than Young Frankenstein, where the humour isn't joke orientated so much but more to be found in the sense of fun and in the performances. It's just a nice, ambling story about rivalling magicians. I guess you could say it's the best Discworld adaptation we've had so far, even though it was made over twenty years prior to. If nothing else it's worth watching for seeing Vincent Price, Boris Karloff and Peter Lorre sat around a table with a very young and handsome Jack Nicholson. I'll be watching this one again soon, for sure!
THE HAUNTED PALACE
So here's the "black sheep" of the family, as it were. Not in that it's bad, which it is not by any means, but just in that it's not actually an Edgar Allan Poe story but a H. P. Lovecraft one with a Poe title and poem stuck on to make some money. Poor ol' Lovecraft - his name's worth a few bucks, surely? Price manages to essentially play two parts in this film - the spirit of an evil deceased ancestor trying to possess the body of his genial descendant - very well. I kind of lost my way towards the end and there were some Edward D. Wood Jr quality lines in there, but the torch-wielding villager finale is fun and the eerie atmosphere right up there with all the others. Solid but not greatly engaging.
THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH
This is where the evening took a really unexpected turn. Filmed in
THE TOMB OF LIGEIA
And here is where I officially checked out for the evening/morning. Don't get me wrong, I watched it and saw everything happen, but I wasn't really listening and basically found myself getting comfy and ready for bed. Funny that, though, as I was curious to see this one the most from a filmmaking standpoint as it was rushed into production simply to utilise the remaining budget, sets and some of the same actors from Masque since they had finished that one ahead of schedule. It doesn't look rushed, mind you, and feels more akin to Usher in it's slow, thoughtful pace involving characters hiding from the world. Maybe that's why they call this series of films a "cycle" - we're basically back where we started. The filmmakers tried to make Vincent Price look about thirty years younger with wigs and make-up but he weirdly ends up looking like a cross between Peter Sellers and Alan Rickman, which is fine and actually kind of works in a strange, otherworldly way. You don't feel like you're watching Price, but you are, but you're sort of not. I guess the thing to say is he does well pretending not to be himself because him is not who they really wanted to cast but had to because of demands from the studio, which is very sporting of him. I might watch this one again just so I can concentrate a bit more as it actually looked quite interesting. The literal catfight at the end certainly warrants closer inspection
So in conclusion, what have I learned? Well, all the stories were interesting and quite inspiring from a writing perspective; considering all the films were period dramas they didn't feel cheap, in fact I suspect it was mostly the filmmaking that was restricted by budget; Vincent Price has a soft, humorous side, which I didn't realise, and he seems to let his guard down as the series progressed... maybe he and Corman's team ended up feeling like a close family after spending four years in each others' company; and Corman ain't no great visualist: all the best things to look at in these films aren't by his hand, as far as I can tell, but they're no less entertaining for it.
So I'd say none of these films are bad but some are lesser than others. There's real effort put into all of them, which is more than you can say for films costing hundreds of times more nowadays, and they're all very satisfying experiences. If you see one on television don't turn your nose up - give them a go. Which would I recommend buying? Hmmm, probably The Fall of the House of Usher, The Raven and The Masque of the Red Death.
Go forth and experience, you devils!
Thursday, 19 February 2015
Prelude to a Movie Marathon: Roger Corman's Poe Cycle
So all I know about Roger Corman is that he's a legendary
b-movie film director/producer and had a cool cameo in Silence of the Lambs, which
is kind of why I'm doing this marathon: I feel a bit left out. I hear his name mentioned
regularly by film geeks and his peers about the influence he's had - not just through
his own work but in giving a leg up to some of the great filmmakers of our time
- and so now I want in on the gag.
So why have I gone for his series of Edgar Allan Poe adaptations? Well, because it surprised me that an alleged prolific creator of junk has actually accrued some artistic acclaim for more than just his ability to make stuff fast and cheap. The only film I've seen of his that he's actually directed is The Little Shop of Horrors, which was fun and cute, but I obviously need to experience more.
I'm never sure what to make of people known mainly for being producers and when I hear someone say "cool, this film is produced by..." I'm always a bit sceptical. Oh, so they sat behind a desk and threw money at it? I'm sure that left a crucial creative stamp on it! Basically I'm a follower of directors and cinematographers, so understanding Corman through his body of producer credits wouldn't really be my thing (unless someone can convince me otherwise).
Something else that makes this marathon more attractive to me is that I'm not actually a big fan of horror movies. I prefer ones that are known for their contribution to the art of cinema like The Shining, Don't Look Now and The Thing, so there's usually got to be more in it for me than just the scares and blood. So Corman's Poe Cycle will be (I'm assuming) a lesson in classic gothic horror b-movie cinema... without the frills and high art.
Or will it? Maybe I'll be even more surprised and gain a new found respect for something or someone. That's what I'm hoping to find out from this marathon.
Or maybe I'll just be sick of Vincent Price by the end.
Plus I get the feeling that, since I'm not really into the genre, if I don't watch these films all in one go as a marathon I'll most likely get three films in and not bother to watch the rest. I genuinely believe that I need to commit to a non-stop viewing experience.
So, I'm guesstimating that this is going to take roughly 12 hours: 8 films at about 90 minutes a film (give or take). I'll probably do the marathon at night for a) the right atmosphere b) so any bright daylight won't obscure my vision while watching a series of darkly lit horror films (I often watch films and play games at night for this reason) c) so I don't get any distractions like phone calls etc. and d) if I do a Twitter commentary people won't get so annoyed if it's in the dead of night.
I'll be busy at the weekend so I'll either be doing this tonight (Thursday 19 February) or next week some time. I doubt anyone would want to join in but if you do let me know.
The films will be:
The Fall of the House of Usher (1960)
The Pit and the Pendulum (1961)
The Premature Burial (1962)
Tales of Terror (1962)
The Raven (1963)
The Haunted Palace (1963)
The Masque of the Red Death (1964)
The Tomb of Ligeia (1964)
Right, let's do this!
So why have I gone for his series of Edgar Allan Poe adaptations? Well, because it surprised me that an alleged prolific creator of junk has actually accrued some artistic acclaim for more than just his ability to make stuff fast and cheap. The only film I've seen of his that he's actually directed is The Little Shop of Horrors, which was fun and cute, but I obviously need to experience more.
I'm never sure what to make of people known mainly for being producers and when I hear someone say "cool, this film is produced by..." I'm always a bit sceptical. Oh, so they sat behind a desk and threw money at it? I'm sure that left a crucial creative stamp on it! Basically I'm a follower of directors and cinematographers, so understanding Corman through his body of producer credits wouldn't really be my thing (unless someone can convince me otherwise).
Something else that makes this marathon more attractive to me is that I'm not actually a big fan of horror movies. I prefer ones that are known for their contribution to the art of cinema like The Shining, Don't Look Now and The Thing, so there's usually got to be more in it for me than just the scares and blood. So Corman's Poe Cycle will be (I'm assuming) a lesson in classic gothic horror b-movie cinema... without the frills and high art.
Or will it? Maybe I'll be even more surprised and gain a new found respect for something or someone. That's what I'm hoping to find out from this marathon.
Or maybe I'll just be sick of Vincent Price by the end.
Plus I get the feeling that, since I'm not really into the genre, if I don't watch these films all in one go as a marathon I'll most likely get three films in and not bother to watch the rest. I genuinely believe that I need to commit to a non-stop viewing experience.
So, I'm guesstimating that this is going to take roughly 12 hours: 8 films at about 90 minutes a film (give or take). I'll probably do the marathon at night for a) the right atmosphere b) so any bright daylight won't obscure my vision while watching a series of darkly lit horror films (I often watch films and play games at night for this reason) c) so I don't get any distractions like phone calls etc. and d) if I do a Twitter commentary people won't get so annoyed if it's in the dead of night.
I'll be busy at the weekend so I'll either be doing this tonight (Thursday 19 February) or next week some time. I doubt anyone would want to join in but if you do let me know.
The films will be:
The Fall of the House of Usher (1960)
The Pit and the Pendulum (1961)
The Premature Burial (1962)
Tales of Terror (1962)
The Raven (1963)
The Haunted Palace (1963)
The Masque of the Red Death (1964)
The Tomb of Ligeia (1964)
Right, let's do this!
Friday, 19 December 2014
My Journey with Werner Herzog, Part Three
As planned, I've taken a couple of weeks break from my Herzog immersion and been either in the pub or watching slightly more mainstream fare. The Christmas season does take over one's life whether one likes it or not, I'm afraid.
Well, I've finally had a few days to chill out in isolation and psych myself up for more German arthouse cinema so fingers crossed I can get back into the swing of talking about all this mad crazy stuff.
PRECAUTIONS AGAINST FANATICS
So, things start off with something very similar to the last session's short film Last Words, in that we get a bunch of people talking to camera and not making a great deal of sense. Here we get what seem to be young stable hands talking about providing security for a racetrack's horses. Then an insane old man begins walking into the frame to tell the young men to go away but they do their best to ignore him. This eccentric gentleman gets his own turn to talk, of course, and we learn that he's just a punter who has decided he knows all there is to know about horses just because he watches a lot of horse racing.
Or is something else going on?
As I'm coming to realise, nothing feels quite as it seems with Herzog's work. It probably is exactly as it seems, but he manages to create an unsettling atmosphere of uncertainty, which is clever.
The young stable hands don't act completely sane themselves and proceed to repeat certain things just like the subjects of Last Words did and often go off on tangents about flamingos or how their bold chests mean they're trustworthy. As the film went on (the last short in this blog series) I tried to fathom, again like Last Words, what was going on. My theory is that nobody's behind the camera. I think the director asked these people to rehearse their dialogue or simply record their personal thoughts alone, which is why the crazy old man keeps walking into frame unchallenged and addresses the camera.
There's a deep level of irony to all this when you begin to realise that the people providing security against "fanatics" (horse fanatics? I wasn't entirely sure. Perhaps zoophiles. Who knows) aren't perfectly clear of mind and stable (no pun intended) either.
But whereas Last Words was quite eerie and lightly disturbing, Precautions Against Fanatics is very funny and I'm starting to think that some of Herzog's work has since inspired a lot of modern television sketch comedy.
THE ENIGMA OF KASPAR HAUSER
What surprised me the most about The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser was that at first I assumed the mannered mise-en-scène compositions were inspired by Stanley Kubrick's Barry Lyndon but, to give Herzog credit, he beat Mr Kubrick to it by one year. But while Herzog's camera setups and the way he positions his actors brings to mind paintings of the period in the same way that Barry Lyndon does, the cinematography isn't so stylised and lush, instead keeping to the simple lighting techniques of Aguirre, the Wrath of God.
Herzog seems to like treating his fiction work like documentaries and his documentaries like fiction. Or, possibly more accurately, he likes to make documentaries about living subjects but if they've already passed on he'll jolly well write a script and film his documentary with actors instead, thereby unintentionally creating a fictional feature.
The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser is no different.
Actually, even though I'm most likely exaggerating the reality of Herzog's methodology, a lot of modern documentaries are doing this, much to my chagrin.
Anyway, the film starts off with the titular Kaspar sat on a floor carpeted with hay in a bare, stone-walled cell. He's been locked-up in here all his life by his adoptive father who apparently can't afford to raise him properly. This concept was probably quite novel back in 1974 but, much to our grief and horror, this sort of thing does actually happen, only more for purposes of rape or simply for the pleasure of keeping another human being locked-up against their will.
But we only witness the last day or so of Kaspar's incarceration before a man, presumably his captor, carries him out into the wilderness. It's during these scenes in the countryside that we get our first taste of music, the delayed appearance of which is very stirring and reminded me of the similar technique used in Fata Morgana. When that music suddenly swells into our ears after a long period of relative silence it's like we're able to breathe again after being submerged underwater.
I don't know if this is a technique used consciously by Herzog and his team but, well, it certainly seemed to have that effect on me.
To cut a long story short Kaspar is released into a town and looked after and properly raised by a community unsure of the boy's background, mental state or intentions. And I use the term "boy" loosely as, even though I think Kaspar is meant to be in his teenage years, the actor Bruno Schleinstein clearly is not, which makes certain scenes (including one where he shares a bath with a child actor as though he were one himself) rather odd.
It's this initial portion of the film where Kaspar is being questioned about himself by the local authorities that reminded me a lot of Steven Spielberg's style, especially some very similar moments that are mirrored in Amistad. The way in which multiple actors are speaking at once and interrupting one another has the same pace and fearlessness of a Spielberg directed scene. You get that clash of styles: the busy interaction of stage acting combined with the precise, blocked-camera setup of a motion picture. I like this stuff, it's brave and clearly requires much rehearsal (although I can't confirm this happens in either filmmaker's work).
Kaspar goes on to become a literal sideshow freak due to his mysterious upbringing, but only so he can earn a living and contribute to the community which has taken him in. This circus subplot is fortunately limited to only one scene, so the whole film avoids descending into a hellish Elephant Man-esque meditation on exploitation.
The main focus of The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser is, instead, this fresh, unprejudiced mind clashing with a society stifled and regimented with rules and beliefs. Kaspar constantly comes up against opposition as his uncluttered mind sees and understands things in a way that his "peers" do not. They disagree, but Kaspar has little interest in winning them over or being accepted. He is who he is and things are what they are. You can label him and the world around him but you can't change what he and they are.
That's where the film becomes a beautiful tragedy. Bad things do happen to Kaspar but his real sadness doesn't come from physical pain or strife, instead it comes from the utter emptiness and meaningless of life beyond his cell. He describes dreams where the people of the world are walking up a steep hill in thick fog with Death waiting for them at the top; and a tribe of native people being led through the Sahara Desert by a blind man. Kaspar is painfully aware that, even with all the things in life we find to distract ourselves or pass the time or control each other with, we are all simply waiting to die.
Which he does, seemingly to his great relief.
THE GREAT ECSTASY OF WOODCARVER STEINER
Which leads me nicely into the documentary of the evening, which follows the experiences of a young ski jumper (apparently what he does is "ski flying" but to avoid confusion I'll refer to it as jumping) who seems constantly to be seeing through time to his own certain death from the sport he chooses to make a living out of. Actually he doesn't die prematurely, in fact I think he's still alive as of 2014, but that doesn't stop the boy's morbid fatalism from becoming the central theme of the piece.
The mindset of a sportsperson is clearly very fascinating to Herzog, who enthusiastically interviews Walter Steiner after each jump he and his crew film. He wants to hear and understand Steiner's thoughts and feelings as they come to him, which he gets the very bare bones of as, in my opinion, sportspeople don't think very much while they're on the job, which is why I find sport punditry quite baffling. The whole point of sport is to be in the moment, to remove thought from a process and to rely on instinct and body reflexes. Things happen so fast in sport that there really is no time to make a logical, rational decision about anything - which is why a person trains for a sport rather than just reading a book and running out onto the pitch (or, in this case, inrun). But many people, including Herzog, will insist the contrary and find those who lead a life of physicality interesting. I don't, so my interest here is not so much in Steiner's motivations but in Herzog's.
Steiner seems modest and innocent, quiet and sombre, tortured and unsure, but when you see the crowds cheering below him as he flies through the air, or the attractive young women swooning near him in the background of certain shots, the fans asking for autographs and, rather ironically, film crews following him around you realise that, beyond all his personal soul-searching, doubting and threatening to quit, maybe Walter likes the attention and adulation he receives and that's why he keeps doing it.
His motivations are perhaps just as undiagnosed as those of the people watching him. Why do people flock in their hundreds and thousands to watch sporting events? The reason is: expectation. I get the feeling that even though some spectators say they admire the skill and technique of a sport, which is fine, I believe that it's mostly about the expectation of something happening and not the event itself. Will the person they support win? Will they lose? Will there be an accident? Will there be disagreements with the judge, umpire or referee? Will money be won (by both player and pundit)? Will records be broken? Will careers be ended? Will careers be started? All these questions are answered eventually, often within seconds, and the ultimate point of all this expectation is clear after the furore of the event is over and everyone has gone home.
There is none.
NEXT UP: STROSZEK
Well, I've finally had a few days to chill out in isolation and psych myself up for more German arthouse cinema so fingers crossed I can get back into the swing of talking about all this mad crazy stuff.
PRECAUTIONS AGAINST FANATICS
So, things start off with something very similar to the last session's short film Last Words, in that we get a bunch of people talking to camera and not making a great deal of sense. Here we get what seem to be young stable hands talking about providing security for a racetrack's horses. Then an insane old man begins walking into the frame to tell the young men to go away but they do their best to ignore him. This eccentric gentleman gets his own turn to talk, of course, and we learn that he's just a punter who has decided he knows all there is to know about horses just because he watches a lot of horse racing.
Or is something else going on?
As I'm coming to realise, nothing feels quite as it seems with Herzog's work. It probably is exactly as it seems, but he manages to create an unsettling atmosphere of uncertainty, which is clever.
The young stable hands don't act completely sane themselves and proceed to repeat certain things just like the subjects of Last Words did and often go off on tangents about flamingos or how their bold chests mean they're trustworthy. As the film went on (the last short in this blog series) I tried to fathom, again like Last Words, what was going on. My theory is that nobody's behind the camera. I think the director asked these people to rehearse their dialogue or simply record their personal thoughts alone, which is why the crazy old man keeps walking into frame unchallenged and addresses the camera.
There's a deep level of irony to all this when you begin to realise that the people providing security against "fanatics" (horse fanatics? I wasn't entirely sure. Perhaps zoophiles. Who knows) aren't perfectly clear of mind and stable (no pun intended) either.
But whereas Last Words was quite eerie and lightly disturbing, Precautions Against Fanatics is very funny and I'm starting to think that some of Herzog's work has since inspired a lot of modern television sketch comedy.
THE ENIGMA OF KASPAR HAUSER
What surprised me the most about The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser was that at first I assumed the mannered mise-en-scène compositions were inspired by Stanley Kubrick's Barry Lyndon but, to give Herzog credit, he beat Mr Kubrick to it by one year. But while Herzog's camera setups and the way he positions his actors brings to mind paintings of the period in the same way that Barry Lyndon does, the cinematography isn't so stylised and lush, instead keeping to the simple lighting techniques of Aguirre, the Wrath of God.
Herzog seems to like treating his fiction work like documentaries and his documentaries like fiction. Or, possibly more accurately, he likes to make documentaries about living subjects but if they've already passed on he'll jolly well write a script and film his documentary with actors instead, thereby unintentionally creating a fictional feature.
The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser is no different.
Actually, even though I'm most likely exaggerating the reality of Herzog's methodology, a lot of modern documentaries are doing this, much to my chagrin.
Anyway, the film starts off with the titular Kaspar sat on a floor carpeted with hay in a bare, stone-walled cell. He's been locked-up in here all his life by his adoptive father who apparently can't afford to raise him properly. This concept was probably quite novel back in 1974 but, much to our grief and horror, this sort of thing does actually happen, only more for purposes of rape or simply for the pleasure of keeping another human being locked-up against their will.
But we only witness the last day or so of Kaspar's incarceration before a man, presumably his captor, carries him out into the wilderness. It's during these scenes in the countryside that we get our first taste of music, the delayed appearance of which is very stirring and reminded me of the similar technique used in Fata Morgana. When that music suddenly swells into our ears after a long period of relative silence it's like we're able to breathe again after being submerged underwater.
I don't know if this is a technique used consciously by Herzog and his team but, well, it certainly seemed to have that effect on me.
To cut a long story short Kaspar is released into a town and looked after and properly raised by a community unsure of the boy's background, mental state or intentions. And I use the term "boy" loosely as, even though I think Kaspar is meant to be in his teenage years, the actor Bruno Schleinstein clearly is not, which makes certain scenes (including one where he shares a bath with a child actor as though he were one himself) rather odd.
It's this initial portion of the film where Kaspar is being questioned about himself by the local authorities that reminded me a lot of Steven Spielberg's style, especially some very similar moments that are mirrored in Amistad. The way in which multiple actors are speaking at once and interrupting one another has the same pace and fearlessness of a Spielberg directed scene. You get that clash of styles: the busy interaction of stage acting combined with the precise, blocked-camera setup of a motion picture. I like this stuff, it's brave and clearly requires much rehearsal (although I can't confirm this happens in either filmmaker's work).
Kaspar goes on to become a literal sideshow freak due to his mysterious upbringing, but only so he can earn a living and contribute to the community which has taken him in. This circus subplot is fortunately limited to only one scene, so the whole film avoids descending into a hellish Elephant Man-esque meditation on exploitation.
The main focus of The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser is, instead, this fresh, unprejudiced mind clashing with a society stifled and regimented with rules and beliefs. Kaspar constantly comes up against opposition as his uncluttered mind sees and understands things in a way that his "peers" do not. They disagree, but Kaspar has little interest in winning them over or being accepted. He is who he is and things are what they are. You can label him and the world around him but you can't change what he and they are.
That's where the film becomes a beautiful tragedy. Bad things do happen to Kaspar but his real sadness doesn't come from physical pain or strife, instead it comes from the utter emptiness and meaningless of life beyond his cell. He describes dreams where the people of the world are walking up a steep hill in thick fog with Death waiting for them at the top; and a tribe of native people being led through the Sahara Desert by a blind man. Kaspar is painfully aware that, even with all the things in life we find to distract ourselves or pass the time or control each other with, we are all simply waiting to die.
Which he does, seemingly to his great relief.
THE GREAT ECSTASY OF WOODCARVER STEINER
Which leads me nicely into the documentary of the evening, which follows the experiences of a young ski jumper (apparently what he does is "ski flying" but to avoid confusion I'll refer to it as jumping) who seems constantly to be seeing through time to his own certain death from the sport he chooses to make a living out of. Actually he doesn't die prematurely, in fact I think he's still alive as of 2014, but that doesn't stop the boy's morbid fatalism from becoming the central theme of the piece.
The mindset of a sportsperson is clearly very fascinating to Herzog, who enthusiastically interviews Walter Steiner after each jump he and his crew film. He wants to hear and understand Steiner's thoughts and feelings as they come to him, which he gets the very bare bones of as, in my opinion, sportspeople don't think very much while they're on the job, which is why I find sport punditry quite baffling. The whole point of sport is to be in the moment, to remove thought from a process and to rely on instinct and body reflexes. Things happen so fast in sport that there really is no time to make a logical, rational decision about anything - which is why a person trains for a sport rather than just reading a book and running out onto the pitch (or, in this case, inrun). But many people, including Herzog, will insist the contrary and find those who lead a life of physicality interesting. I don't, so my interest here is not so much in Steiner's motivations but in Herzog's.
Steiner seems modest and innocent, quiet and sombre, tortured and unsure, but when you see the crowds cheering below him as he flies through the air, or the attractive young women swooning near him in the background of certain shots, the fans asking for autographs and, rather ironically, film crews following him around you realise that, beyond all his personal soul-searching, doubting and threatening to quit, maybe Walter likes the attention and adulation he receives and that's why he keeps doing it.
His motivations are perhaps just as undiagnosed as those of the people watching him. Why do people flock in their hundreds and thousands to watch sporting events? The reason is: expectation. I get the feeling that even though some spectators say they admire the skill and technique of a sport, which is fine, I believe that it's mostly about the expectation of something happening and not the event itself. Will the person they support win? Will they lose? Will there be an accident? Will there be disagreements with the judge, umpire or referee? Will money be won (by both player and pundit)? Will records be broken? Will careers be ended? Will careers be started? All these questions are answered eventually, often within seconds, and the ultimate point of all this expectation is clear after the furore of the event is over and everyone has gone home.
There is none.
NEXT UP: STROSZEK
Wednesday, 10 December 2014
Guardians of the Galaxy - film review
I'm going to start by saying I think I'm too old for this film. Yes, at 34 years of age I'm too old for Guardians of the Galaxy. I finally get the whole "I am Groot" thing that I've been hearing so much about, which is a relief but it's also not the clever reference I thought it'd be (it's all one of the main characters can say and they say it throughout the entire film - you kids these days are sharp!). I guess that's the small positive I can pull out of this experience - I get the "I am Groot" thing at last.
I'm not sure what the text version of a shrug is but, I assure you, if there was one I'd be typing it now.
Well, I should go into a Star Wars prequel-type rant next about hype and expectations and blah blah blah but, you know what, this is all I've come to expect from these Marvel films. They all get good reviews and I turn up/sit down to watch them and find myself confused as to what everybody else has been seeing.
I've genuinely started to believe that people are watching different films to me.
Captain America? The Avengers? X-Men: First Class? Iron Man? All the same: they're even more flat and two dimensional than their comic book origins with the odd good performance to save it from utter pointlessness. Well, apart from Captain America, I can't remember a damn thing about that one. And don't ask me to go see Thor or The Incredible Hulk. I'm done.
But don't get me wrong, I'm not judging Guardians of the Galaxy as part of a loosely connected series of films, because I really haven't invested enough time in any instalment of the Marvel Cinematic Universe to do that. It just has that same... urgh... you're going to hear me say "flat" a lot in this review, so if you've got a problem with that word or don't get what I mean then it's best to avert your eyes now while there's still time.
So in I go to Guardians of the Galaxy expecting it to be the tonic to my gin of couldn't-give-a-rat's-ass. I'd heard that James Gunn had turned it all around and given us non-believers the first truly unique and inspired Marvel movie.
Has he? Can you all point out which bits those were exactly?
Guardians of the Galaxy is basically The Fifth Element meets Mass Effect 2 (a very good video game that felt like Star Trek: The Next Generation meets Attack of the Clones) meets, hmmm, what's the third thing? I need a third thing. I'll have a think about that and let you know at the end of this review. But the first two really hit the nail on the head. Trust me.
Apart from the fact that they were fun.
And I didn't find Guardians of the Galaxy fun.
Well, a couple of bits maybe.
Since when did screenwriters forget how to disguise exposition in dialogue? I've heard of the phrase "hanging a lantern on it" for when you can't figure out how to write your way out of a corner but is it really necessary for characters to make speech after speech after wearyingly boring speech about their backstory and motivation?
We don't need it.
Mention it once. Invest in a line or two about backstory and motivation and then move on.
But we're not so lucky with Guardians of the Galaxy. If you've not seen it yet then prepare yourself for a script full of footnotes that you won't care to hear and your brain, funnily enough, will naturally ignore.
And that's where one of the film's biggest flaws lies: it's tone. As mentioned above we get a lot of speech making. Serious speech making. Then you get a funny quip here and there. Then you get some violence. Then you get a pratfall.
It goes on like this.
And the funny quips are real bargain basement one-liners too, but in a strange way like they had something funnier originally but for one reason or another they kept changing them as the producers fought over which was the least offensive or something. Now I don't know if that actually happened but that's what it feels like. I get the sense from the ADR work that the actors were fed up with being called back in to re-record their lines for the hundredth time.
Oh the actors. Well let's get right onto that shall we...
They're fine. In fact they're all pretty damn good except for one: our lead. Yes, Chris Pratt is awful. And this comes back to the tone thing again. Is he supposed to be awful? If he was cast based on his work in Parks & Recreation then I don't know how James Gunn and his team were expecting anything else. His character in Parks & Recreation is dumb and insincere but, well, I don't think Mr Pratt is genuinely dumb and insincere in real life but that's what his acting style seems to be regardless of the role.
It's what he does.
He's likeable though, I'll give him that. In the way that he's likeable in, yes, Parks & Recreation, but likeability on its own can't carry the weight of an entire film.
So, yeah, there's another tone problem. Who are we rooting for here? Our lead is likeable but dull but maybe he's supposed to be. Is this a Big Trouble In Little China thing where the protagonist is actually the sidekick but he just doesn't know it? I'm not sure.
Is it all a joke?
The weird thing with this film is that we're constantly being told that our heroes are idiots and useless and deadbeats. But they're not really. They're all actually pretty good at what they do. At no stage do any of our main characters show any weaknesses other than when it's necessary to dispense exposition. Now that's an important point: the character moments in this film are not there to make you connect with them, they're purely there to feed you information.
I know that's kind of the point of dialogue but there's really very little attempt to sugar coat it here.
So what shall I talk about next? Oh yes, let's segue awkwardly into the middle of this review by talking about the beginning of the film. Why is that there? In fact, why do we need the first twenty minutes of this film? We don't really, but it's there because we're all stupid and we need this stuff hammering into our brains.
I didn't like the overly emotional hospital opening, even though it showed the origin of our hero. It just felt out of place and set things off on the wrong foot for me. Perhaps for personal reasons.
So now I've got that unpleasant bit off my chest I'm going to talk about music. The music in this film is great! But it's diagetic. That's right, we can't just have old fashioned music playing on the soundtrack in a science fiction fantasy action adventure, we have to have it explained practically why it's there. Yes, our protagonist has an old walkman with songs his mother used to like and that's why we have old music in the film. It can't just be there, which would have been great, it has to be explained.
Thanks, guys.
So what have I covered so far? Script, Tone. Characters. Opening scene. Music. Well, I think that's about it.
Guardians of the Galaxy is a mess. It has the same special effects you'll see in any film out there at the moment, so I can't really comment on that either positively or negatively. You know what it'll all look like, don't you? So visually it's a mess only with flat, point-and-shoot camerawork (I really wish it was an interesting mess), tonally it's a mess, narratively it's straightforward but ironically could have done with being a mess, the dialogue's boring, the characters are boring, the story's boring (magic orb of death... yawn) but for some reason everybody loves this film but me and a handful of others.
We meet under the bridge at midnight once a month to hold copies of The Fifth Element to our breasts and weep for a time when films still looked and felt interesting even though they were a bit rubbish.
Oh yes, and the third thing this film feels like is Star Trek Into Darkness because while it's well made, has a few fun moments, at least has some real sets and real people in it, it's also dumb, incomprehensible and eventually pointless.
Just utterly, utterly pointless.
Unless you're Marvel, then the point is lots and lots of money.
Or a kid who can now go to school and confuse their teacher by answering "I am Groot" to every question they're asked in class.
Bet that's fun for them.
Sigh.
Oh and John C. Reilly's as bad as always too. I still don't get why people like him. We get multiple scenes of his stone, dull, lifeless face mumbling lines he doesn't seem to care about.
Again... sigh.
I didn't say "flat" too much in the end, did I? Hmmm, I might go back and add some more.
Do stay in touch, darlings.
Toodles!
Friday, 5 December 2014
My Journey with Werner Herzog, Part Two
I wasn't planning on doing the next part of this series immediately after the first one, but it appears I'm busy for the next few days and so sitting down for a session might be difficult. Since I enjoyed writing Part One so much I found the prospect of not returning to my blog so soon quite unappealing so, even though I felt a bit drained, at 2000 last night I sat down and cracked on with more Herzog.
LAST WORDS
I'm going to tell you what I thought this short film was about before I look up on the internet what it actually was about and we can see how right or wrong I was.
It's a strange one this one as very little of it makes sense. It's in the same vain as Fata Morgana in that it has images and sounds but they don't seem entirely connected. There's s subject but it's not clearly defined and what we're hearing in the form of dialogue doesn't necessarily relate to that subject. Or is it?
My first impression was that I was watching outtakes from a documentary. Set in Crete we see a local barman, policemen and others repeating lines of dialogue about a disturbed individual. They repeat their lines like the film crew's sound person has asked them to just talk while they check their levels. I can't think of any other reason for it. So Herzog decided to make a short film using these outtakes.
It seems at first they're all talking about a local man who refuses to talk but plays live music in a local bar. He even sings. But he won't talk. Then they seem to be discussing a leper colony and the last person to leave the island, who apparently jumped off the cliff into the see and a church was built next to his last footprint. Then I think there's a story about someone found in an abandoned town or something. I wasn't sure if it was the leper colony or not.
So there seems to be three separate stories being told by these local men in this bizarre, repetitive fashion.
Right, let's look up what it was really about...
Hang on.
Ah, ok, I was wrong - they're all talking about the same person. I genuinely believed the people being interviewed were telling three different stories: one recent, one from recent history and one from ancient history. But there you go.
That's just how weird Last Words is.
I wasn't even sure the man they were talking about appeared on screen but apparently he's the guy with the most dialogue even though he refuses to speak. I thought the point of the film was that we have all these people talking about some disturbed individual(s) even though they, themselves, seem disturbed. I guess you could say it still has that vibe.
I'd definitely file this under "experimental" like Fata Morgana.
Last Words is strange, amusing but nicely shot with softer black and white cinematography than yesterday's short, The Unprecedented Defence of the Fortress Deutschkreuz, but I wonder if that's more to do with the contrasting climates that both films were shot in. The footage from the old leper colony is very evocate and I was hooked by just trying to untangle what everyone was talking about.
Odd.
AGUIRRE, THE WRATH OF GOD
So it turns out I've been pronouncing "Aguirre" wrong for years. I thought it rhymed with "attire" but apparently it rhymes with "Akira".
Don't I feel daft!
Anyway, this was the one I was most looking forward to as I do like a gritty, realistic historical drama and this promised to be right up my alley.
It certainly delivered on my expectations of being filled with lush South American countryside and brutal living conditions but I was expecting more steady handed cinematography and carefully framed shots, however this feels more like a modern docu-soap with narration by one of the characters instead of cutaways to talking head interviews.
It's interesting how much this film works against the conventions of movie storytelling as there's barely an arc to what's happening, which makes it feel more like a document than a fictional story. Literally nothing good happens for ninety minutes and the titular Aguirre is as unpleasant as they come from start to finish. He descends into madness but not from being a nice guy - he's a bastard from the get go.
But he's not even the main character, which surprised me. It's more of an ensemble. The closest film reference I can make is an obvious one, which is Apocalypse Now. A bunch of people are on a boat heading down a river not quite knowing what they'll find when they get to their destination - if their destination even exists. They get attacked by the locals and end up going a bit crazy.
Actually, you could almost say Apocalypse Now is a spiritual sequel to this and that Aguirre is very much a Colonel Kurtz figure who Willard is eventually sent to find.
I wasn't sure which language to play the film in. When I got to the DVDs menu it offered the German and English version. Usually the choices aren't so explicitly laid out so I checked the internet and there seems to be some disagreement about which is the one you should watch.
I watched it in German for the first half and then changed it to English, but the English dubbing was so bad (not the quality or synchronisation but the actual acting) that I had to turn it back, which turned out to be the right idea as there seemed to be some inconsistencies with the two tracks which always makes me a bit mistrustful of translations.
When a character gets shot by the indigenous people he declares, in the German version, "The long bows are back in fashion!", but in the English dub he says "I thought it'd hurt more!". Or something to that effect.
Two completely different lines and the first one was a little smarter.
Why did they change it? Who knows, but even though the English dub would have been easier for me to watch I felt more at ease reading the subtitles.
So I think I've said all there is to be said about Aguirre, the Wrath of God really. It's a simple film with a very linear series of events. The feeling of isolation is very intoxicating and you do wonder about the sanity of anyone who would go on such an expedition. Be it in the name of a deity or just for fun, being alone in the wilderness is terrifying and a real strain on your emotions.
I have a theory about that actually. Because we all live in such tidy, straight lined abodes with right angles and order, when we get out into the wilderness the primal animal in us begins to take over. This can be quite liberating but it can also be quite disturbing if you're not used to it.
I'm not sure whether to recommend Aguirre or not. Maybe as an example of how easy most film productions look, as this one looks like it was a living nightmare to shoot. But with the lack of any likeable characters and a standard story arc it's a tough watch.
That last paragraph doesn't make me sound very good, I admit. I should declare that it's a masterpiece of avant garde cinema or something, but it's an ugly film about ugly people doing ugly things for ugly reasons, but I think ugly is what Herzog was going for.
THE LAND OF SILENCE AND DARKNESS
Much like Handicapped Future which dealt with the isolation of a group of physically disabled children, The Land of Silence and Darkness introduces us to the deaf-blind community, who have even bigger hurdles to overcome in integrating into society.
Whereas Handicapped Future felt positive in presenting what adaptations and possibilities are on offer for the physically disabled, The Land of Silence and Darkness is a little more bleak because we know that, no matter how integrated the deaf-blind become, they will always feel alone.
And this isn't necessarily my interpretation, we are told by the subjects themselves how isolated they feel. We hear poetry readings and personal accounts that made me still with grief.
I suffer from Retinitus Pigmentosa and have spent a lot of time amongst the blind community and have experienced many varying degrees of coping, but as I mentioned in Part One when discussing Handicapped Future it's not necessarily external factors that affect a persons' independence but the inclinations of their personality. Some people I've met with less eyesight than me have been able to accomplish practical tasks that I couldn't, not just because of my visual impairment but because of my confidence and lack of technical ability.
The people we see in The Land of Silence and Darkness show similar differences in ability. Some are confident and pro-active in developing relations with not only the deaf-blind community but also the community at large, but some are so introverted and dependant that the only place that will accept them is a hospital for the mentally ill.
The style of Herzog's film is not just to inform us, which it does, but also to show us. Often scenes are just the camera following the deaf-blind subjects around a room or an outdoor space and watching how they interact with their environment and other people. It's these quieter moments that tell us the most about their experience. The last scene where a very dependant deaf-blind gentleman explores a tree with his hands as he waits for his mother to stop talking to other people is very revealing and fascinating.
I remember meeting a deaf-blind boy when I was studying administration at The Royal Nation College for the Blind in 1999/2000 (I returned in 2011) and, while I'm sure my conduct was appropriate and I did the best I could to make conversation, my overriding memory is my thinking "what do I say to him?" I feel bad about this but, well, I know they were just internal thoughts and, like I said, I did communicate very well through his interpreter, but even for someone who has a sensory impairment meeting someone who is deaf-blind can be a challenging experience.
Plus, regardless of the situation, I'm just not very good at small talk.
Watching this film made me want to go back and slap Aguirre and his religious fanatics for making their own lives and the lives of others so unnecessarily hard. The Land of Silence and Darkness will make you appreciate what abilities and senses you have, even if they happen to be limited.
A sad, gripping and thought provoking work.
NEXT UP: PRECAUTIONS AGAINST FANATICS, THE ENIGMA OF KASPAR HAUSER and THE GREAT ECSTASY OF WOODCARVER STEINER
LAST WORDS
I'm going to tell you what I thought this short film was about before I look up on the internet what it actually was about and we can see how right or wrong I was.
It's a strange one this one as very little of it makes sense. It's in the same vain as Fata Morgana in that it has images and sounds but they don't seem entirely connected. There's s subject but it's not clearly defined and what we're hearing in the form of dialogue doesn't necessarily relate to that subject. Or is it?
My first impression was that I was watching outtakes from a documentary. Set in Crete we see a local barman, policemen and others repeating lines of dialogue about a disturbed individual. They repeat their lines like the film crew's sound person has asked them to just talk while they check their levels. I can't think of any other reason for it. So Herzog decided to make a short film using these outtakes.
It seems at first they're all talking about a local man who refuses to talk but plays live music in a local bar. He even sings. But he won't talk. Then they seem to be discussing a leper colony and the last person to leave the island, who apparently jumped off the cliff into the see and a church was built next to his last footprint. Then I think there's a story about someone found in an abandoned town or something. I wasn't sure if it was the leper colony or not.
So there seems to be three separate stories being told by these local men in this bizarre, repetitive fashion.
Right, let's look up what it was really about...
Hang on.
Ah, ok, I was wrong - they're all talking about the same person. I genuinely believed the people being interviewed were telling three different stories: one recent, one from recent history and one from ancient history. But there you go.
That's just how weird Last Words is.
I wasn't even sure the man they were talking about appeared on screen but apparently he's the guy with the most dialogue even though he refuses to speak. I thought the point of the film was that we have all these people talking about some disturbed individual(s) even though they, themselves, seem disturbed. I guess you could say it still has that vibe.
I'd definitely file this under "experimental" like Fata Morgana.
Last Words is strange, amusing but nicely shot with softer black and white cinematography than yesterday's short, The Unprecedented Defence of the Fortress Deutschkreuz, but I wonder if that's more to do with the contrasting climates that both films were shot in. The footage from the old leper colony is very evocate and I was hooked by just trying to untangle what everyone was talking about.
Odd.
AGUIRRE, THE WRATH OF GOD
So it turns out I've been pronouncing "Aguirre" wrong for years. I thought it rhymed with "attire" but apparently it rhymes with "Akira".
Don't I feel daft!
Anyway, this was the one I was most looking forward to as I do like a gritty, realistic historical drama and this promised to be right up my alley.
It certainly delivered on my expectations of being filled with lush South American countryside and brutal living conditions but I was expecting more steady handed cinematography and carefully framed shots, however this feels more like a modern docu-soap with narration by one of the characters instead of cutaways to talking head interviews.
It's interesting how much this film works against the conventions of movie storytelling as there's barely an arc to what's happening, which makes it feel more like a document than a fictional story. Literally nothing good happens for ninety minutes and the titular Aguirre is as unpleasant as they come from start to finish. He descends into madness but not from being a nice guy - he's a bastard from the get go.
But he's not even the main character, which surprised me. It's more of an ensemble. The closest film reference I can make is an obvious one, which is Apocalypse Now. A bunch of people are on a boat heading down a river not quite knowing what they'll find when they get to their destination - if their destination even exists. They get attacked by the locals and end up going a bit crazy.
Actually, you could almost say Apocalypse Now is a spiritual sequel to this and that Aguirre is very much a Colonel Kurtz figure who Willard is eventually sent to find.
I wasn't sure which language to play the film in. When I got to the DVDs menu it offered the German and English version. Usually the choices aren't so explicitly laid out so I checked the internet and there seems to be some disagreement about which is the one you should watch.
I watched it in German for the first half and then changed it to English, but the English dubbing was so bad (not the quality or synchronisation but the actual acting) that I had to turn it back, which turned out to be the right idea as there seemed to be some inconsistencies with the two tracks which always makes me a bit mistrustful of translations.
When a character gets shot by the indigenous people he declares, in the German version, "The long bows are back in fashion!", but in the English dub he says "I thought it'd hurt more!". Or something to that effect.
Two completely different lines and the first one was a little smarter.
Why did they change it? Who knows, but even though the English dub would have been easier for me to watch I felt more at ease reading the subtitles.
So I think I've said all there is to be said about Aguirre, the Wrath of God really. It's a simple film with a very linear series of events. The feeling of isolation is very intoxicating and you do wonder about the sanity of anyone who would go on such an expedition. Be it in the name of a deity or just for fun, being alone in the wilderness is terrifying and a real strain on your emotions.
I have a theory about that actually. Because we all live in such tidy, straight lined abodes with right angles and order, when we get out into the wilderness the primal animal in us begins to take over. This can be quite liberating but it can also be quite disturbing if you're not used to it.
I'm not sure whether to recommend Aguirre or not. Maybe as an example of how easy most film productions look, as this one looks like it was a living nightmare to shoot. But with the lack of any likeable characters and a standard story arc it's a tough watch.
That last paragraph doesn't make me sound very good, I admit. I should declare that it's a masterpiece of avant garde cinema or something, but it's an ugly film about ugly people doing ugly things for ugly reasons, but I think ugly is what Herzog was going for.
THE LAND OF SILENCE AND DARKNESS
Much like Handicapped Future which dealt with the isolation of a group of physically disabled children, The Land of Silence and Darkness introduces us to the deaf-blind community, who have even bigger hurdles to overcome in integrating into society.
Whereas Handicapped Future felt positive in presenting what adaptations and possibilities are on offer for the physically disabled, The Land of Silence and Darkness is a little more bleak because we know that, no matter how integrated the deaf-blind become, they will always feel alone.
And this isn't necessarily my interpretation, we are told by the subjects themselves how isolated they feel. We hear poetry readings and personal accounts that made me still with grief.
I suffer from Retinitus Pigmentosa and have spent a lot of time amongst the blind community and have experienced many varying degrees of coping, but as I mentioned in Part One when discussing Handicapped Future it's not necessarily external factors that affect a persons' independence but the inclinations of their personality. Some people I've met with less eyesight than me have been able to accomplish practical tasks that I couldn't, not just because of my visual impairment but because of my confidence and lack of technical ability.
The people we see in The Land of Silence and Darkness show similar differences in ability. Some are confident and pro-active in developing relations with not only the deaf-blind community but also the community at large, but some are so introverted and dependant that the only place that will accept them is a hospital for the mentally ill.
The style of Herzog's film is not just to inform us, which it does, but also to show us. Often scenes are just the camera following the deaf-blind subjects around a room or an outdoor space and watching how they interact with their environment and other people. It's these quieter moments that tell us the most about their experience. The last scene where a very dependant deaf-blind gentleman explores a tree with his hands as he waits for his mother to stop talking to other people is very revealing and fascinating.
I remember meeting a deaf-blind boy when I was studying administration at The Royal Nation College for the Blind in 1999/2000 (I returned in 2011) and, while I'm sure my conduct was appropriate and I did the best I could to make conversation, my overriding memory is my thinking "what do I say to him?" I feel bad about this but, well, I know they were just internal thoughts and, like I said, I did communicate very well through his interpreter, but even for someone who has a sensory impairment meeting someone who is deaf-blind can be a challenging experience.
Plus, regardless of the situation, I'm just not very good at small talk.
Watching this film made me want to go back and slap Aguirre and his religious fanatics for making their own lives and the lives of others so unnecessarily hard. The Land of Silence and Darkness will make you appreciate what abilities and senses you have, even if they happen to be limited.
A sad, gripping and thought provoking work.
NEXT UP: PRECAUTIONS AGAINST FANATICS, THE ENIGMA OF KASPAR HAUSER and THE GREAT ECSTASY OF WOODCARVER STEINER
Thursday, 4 December 2014
My Journey with Werner Herzog, Part One
So as I sat down to watch The Unprecedented Defence of the Fortress Deutschkreuz, Fata Morgana and Handicapped Future my mind was very much an empty vessel of expectation, just waiting to be filled with whatever Herzog had to offer.
It was late, I started at 2200 and didn't finish my screening till about 0300. It must be noted that being visually impaired means it takes me a while to read subtitles and I usually have to pause the film to read each one. Playing films on a video game console is actually better for this as the controls are designed to react quicker to your commands so pausing is a lot more efficient.
It must also be said before I start that because I tend to indulge in mainstream culture more than anything, I'm afraid my references will not be to obscure arthouse or foreign films for the most part, however I am trying to broaden my horizons.
THE UNPRECEDENTED DEFENCE OF THE FORTRESS DEUTSCHKREUZ
I don't watch many short films so I knew even less of what to expect from this work. If prose short stories are anything to go by then I knew I'd be witnessing an event with only a hint of context or backstory. I assumed it'd be to the point but powerful.
The Unprecedented Defence of the Fortress Deutschkreuz reminded me of early Stanley Kubrick films, specifically Paths of Glory. It has stark black and white cinematography and a particular opinion on the nature of war, which is painted in commendably subtle and mature brushstrokes.
The film is essentially a silent work except for a non-diagetic narration which feels more like a stream of consciousness soliloquy than an actual description of what is happening on screen. I was never certain that what the narrator was talking about was directly linked to the action. This is an interesting point as a similar device is used in Fata Morgana, which I will talk about next.
We are told the history of a building, but whether that history is true or the history of the building we see is another matter. Apparently it used to be a hospital for people with mental health problems and the narrator hints that this may have an effect on upcoming events.
The building - an abandoned fortress - is visited by four young men who appear to be out on a leisurely stroll. To be honest, this part felt like the start of a Euro gay porn video, which I'm sure says a lot more about me than it does about the film. Anyway, the four men investigate the fortress while the narrator continues to create an abstract picture with his seemingly unconnected statements.
The young men find army uniforms and artillery and seem to descend from simple playful roughhousing to madness in the space of a few hours, treating their stay at the fortress like a genuine tour of duty, even disciplining another member of their unit at one point.
The tension came, for me at least, by not knowing how far the young men were going to go and how explicitly the bleak outlook of the film was going to be presented.
The film ends more obscurely with the four men charging out of the fortress' gates into an invisible battle.
The abandoned fortress, it's supposed chequered past and the deteriorating reality that the young men experience creates an interesting film that is both amusing and poignant.
It feels like a student film - but a smart one. It looks great and has genuine atmosphere and generates an emotion in the viewer. It's simple, basic production could serve as a good masterclass for young filmmakers trying to choose their first project.
A quick treat!
FATA MORGANA
Now this is where the evening took a weird turn.
Fata Morgana begins with planes landing. About five minutes worth. Because this is classed as a fictional feature film I assumed we were seeing the arrival of a character who would then go on to experience some sort of adventure or drama.
But no, just more planes.
After three minutes we finally get some music creeping into the speakers so we know that this isn't going to be it for the next seventy-three minutes. Then we get shots of what appears to be a desert. Maybe some mirages. I wasn't sure. It continues like this.
Then a narration starts which, like The Unprecedented Defence of the Fortress Deutschkreuz, feels only tenuously connected to what we're seeing. It sounds like religious mythology, Old Testament type stuff.
The film is split into three sections: Creation, Paradise and The Golden Age, which the narration does, at least, seem to adhere to, however the imagery is random at best.
But there IS a connection between the imagery and the dialogue - it's just not a direct one. Not one that we can acknowledge with reason and logic. The two, instead, create a mood that is apocalyptic and sad. We see footage of desert highways, abandoned machinery, dead cattle, third world squalor and working factories. Where do the highways lead? Where did the machinery come from? How did the cattle die? How do the people living in squalor survive? Who or what do the factories serve? We're never told and this lack of knowing creates an unsettling atmosphere that never ceases.
Forty-five minutes in we finally get someone talking on camera. This film was shot around the Sahara desert and, while we get to see the indigenous people at work and at play, the first people who speak on camera are white people seemingly there for scientific purposes. Or are they remnants of a colonial era? I wasn't too sure of that either.
The westerners seem to be going native and act in an exaggerated, delirious fashion which I couldn't quite understand. Were these real people or actors? Were they members of the film crew?
But why Fata Morgana is labelled a work of fiction rather than a documentary is, I assume, because it's not giving us information. It's not telling us anything. Using the juxtaposition of the pious narration and the bleak, depressing imagery the film is provoking emotions from the viewer instead of thoughts.
The film is tough, hypnotic and disturbing. It's also a piece of pure cinema in that sound and images are used in the most simplest of ways to generate a strong reaction from the audience.
It's not a comfortable experience but it's certainly an interesting and memorable one.
Approach with caution and patience.
HANDICAPPED FUTURE
Handicapped Future is a look at the state of government run disabled care in Munich circa 1971. It starts off up-close and personal by interviewing young children about their physical disabilities, slowly pulling out to their carers, then their family and then the world at large. It's a respectful technique and avoids treating its subjects as objects who are devoid of their own opinions. Unfortunately, some of the adult carers, whether state or parental, aren't so mindful. I don't know if it was a choice by the director or whether it's the culture in these institutions in general but they seemed happy to talk about the children in front of the children, sometimes as if they weren't there.
The most disturbing scene comes when a mother talks only about her young son's disability in relation to how it affects her. His quality of life seems to be lowering due to her own social anxieties which I think may be due to an undiagnosed mental health disorder on her part rather than a reaction to real events. You feel concerned for this boy who's emotional and social development could end up being stunted by his mothers' own personal hang-ups.
I wonder how he turned out.
Towards the end of the documentary the film jumps to California and shows us the life of a wheelchair-bound college professor who moved there from Germany and has an incredibly positive quality of life. His disability has not been cured but the adaptations he has at his disposal means that he is able to achieve and be a confident, functioning member of society without pity or segregation.
There was an unintentional link between this film and Fata Morgana in that the professor talks about how much he hated the old buildings where he used to live which were inaccessible for him and other disabled patrons. He appreciates modernity and the adaptation of environments that are easier for him to navigate and live with. In Fata Morgana we see the detritus of modernity - carcasses of machines, smoke and flame billowing factories, upturned cars, sheet metal housing. It's ugly and we long for bricks and mortar; we long for craftsmanship and artistry. But in Handicapped Future we appreciate how this can hinder a large portion of our society.
The point of the documentary seems to be to highlight the contrast in healthcare and to show Germany and any other country watching how it could and perhaps should be done.
As someone with a sensory impairment disability I can see the good the film is trying to accomplish, but the quality of life for a disabled person can also be down to their own outlook on life and their ingrained personality. If you have confidence, drive and a fighting spirit then you can overcome social prejudice and achieve what you would have achieved anyway without your disability; if you're shy and passive you can live an independent life of modest means and indulge in your hobbies and enjoy the simple things in life; if you're dependant and enjoy being mothered then there are plenty of carers out there paid and/or willing to be there for you. Many disabilities can't be cured but they can be overcome, but the most important ingredient is the will of the person who is disabled.
I'm not terribly sure Handicapped Future takes that into account, but it's vision and goal is to at least fight for the groundwork to be firm enough for disabled people to become independent and successful if that's what they so choose.
The choice, however, should always be theirs.
NEXT UP: LAST WORDS, AGUIRRE THE WRATH OF GOD and LAND OF SILENCE AND DARKNESS
It was late, I started at 2200 and didn't finish my screening till about 0300. It must be noted that being visually impaired means it takes me a while to read subtitles and I usually have to pause the film to read each one. Playing films on a video game console is actually better for this as the controls are designed to react quicker to your commands so pausing is a lot more efficient.
It must also be said before I start that because I tend to indulge in mainstream culture more than anything, I'm afraid my references will not be to obscure arthouse or foreign films for the most part, however I am trying to broaden my horizons.
THE UNPRECEDENTED DEFENCE OF THE FORTRESS DEUTSCHKREUZ
I don't watch many short films so I knew even less of what to expect from this work. If prose short stories are anything to go by then I knew I'd be witnessing an event with only a hint of context or backstory. I assumed it'd be to the point but powerful.
The Unprecedented Defence of the Fortress Deutschkreuz reminded me of early Stanley Kubrick films, specifically Paths of Glory. It has stark black and white cinematography and a particular opinion on the nature of war, which is painted in commendably subtle and mature brushstrokes.
The film is essentially a silent work except for a non-diagetic narration which feels more like a stream of consciousness soliloquy than an actual description of what is happening on screen. I was never certain that what the narrator was talking about was directly linked to the action. This is an interesting point as a similar device is used in Fata Morgana, which I will talk about next.
We are told the history of a building, but whether that history is true or the history of the building we see is another matter. Apparently it used to be a hospital for people with mental health problems and the narrator hints that this may have an effect on upcoming events.
The building - an abandoned fortress - is visited by four young men who appear to be out on a leisurely stroll. To be honest, this part felt like the start of a Euro gay porn video, which I'm sure says a lot more about me than it does about the film. Anyway, the four men investigate the fortress while the narrator continues to create an abstract picture with his seemingly unconnected statements.
The young men find army uniforms and artillery and seem to descend from simple playful roughhousing to madness in the space of a few hours, treating their stay at the fortress like a genuine tour of duty, even disciplining another member of their unit at one point.
The tension came, for me at least, by not knowing how far the young men were going to go and how explicitly the bleak outlook of the film was going to be presented.
The film ends more obscurely with the four men charging out of the fortress' gates into an invisible battle.
The abandoned fortress, it's supposed chequered past and the deteriorating reality that the young men experience creates an interesting film that is both amusing and poignant.
It feels like a student film - but a smart one. It looks great and has genuine atmosphere and generates an emotion in the viewer. It's simple, basic production could serve as a good masterclass for young filmmakers trying to choose their first project.
A quick treat!
FATA MORGANA
Now this is where the evening took a weird turn.
Fata Morgana begins with planes landing. About five minutes worth. Because this is classed as a fictional feature film I assumed we were seeing the arrival of a character who would then go on to experience some sort of adventure or drama.
But no, just more planes.
After three minutes we finally get some music creeping into the speakers so we know that this isn't going to be it for the next seventy-three minutes. Then we get shots of what appears to be a desert. Maybe some mirages. I wasn't sure. It continues like this.
Then a narration starts which, like The Unprecedented Defence of the Fortress Deutschkreuz, feels only tenuously connected to what we're seeing. It sounds like religious mythology, Old Testament type stuff.
The film is split into three sections: Creation, Paradise and The Golden Age, which the narration does, at least, seem to adhere to, however the imagery is random at best.
But there IS a connection between the imagery and the dialogue - it's just not a direct one. Not one that we can acknowledge with reason and logic. The two, instead, create a mood that is apocalyptic and sad. We see footage of desert highways, abandoned machinery, dead cattle, third world squalor and working factories. Where do the highways lead? Where did the machinery come from? How did the cattle die? How do the people living in squalor survive? Who or what do the factories serve? We're never told and this lack of knowing creates an unsettling atmosphere that never ceases.
Forty-five minutes in we finally get someone talking on camera. This film was shot around the Sahara desert and, while we get to see the indigenous people at work and at play, the first people who speak on camera are white people seemingly there for scientific purposes. Or are they remnants of a colonial era? I wasn't too sure of that either.
The westerners seem to be going native and act in an exaggerated, delirious fashion which I couldn't quite understand. Were these real people or actors? Were they members of the film crew?
But why Fata Morgana is labelled a work of fiction rather than a documentary is, I assume, because it's not giving us information. It's not telling us anything. Using the juxtaposition of the pious narration and the bleak, depressing imagery the film is provoking emotions from the viewer instead of thoughts.
The film is tough, hypnotic and disturbing. It's also a piece of pure cinema in that sound and images are used in the most simplest of ways to generate a strong reaction from the audience.
It's not a comfortable experience but it's certainly an interesting and memorable one.
Approach with caution and patience.
HANDICAPPED FUTURE
Handicapped Future is a look at the state of government run disabled care in Munich circa 1971. It starts off up-close and personal by interviewing young children about their physical disabilities, slowly pulling out to their carers, then their family and then the world at large. It's a respectful technique and avoids treating its subjects as objects who are devoid of their own opinions. Unfortunately, some of the adult carers, whether state or parental, aren't so mindful. I don't know if it was a choice by the director or whether it's the culture in these institutions in general but they seemed happy to talk about the children in front of the children, sometimes as if they weren't there.
The most disturbing scene comes when a mother talks only about her young son's disability in relation to how it affects her. His quality of life seems to be lowering due to her own social anxieties which I think may be due to an undiagnosed mental health disorder on her part rather than a reaction to real events. You feel concerned for this boy who's emotional and social development could end up being stunted by his mothers' own personal hang-ups.
I wonder how he turned out.
Towards the end of the documentary the film jumps to California and shows us the life of a wheelchair-bound college professor who moved there from Germany and has an incredibly positive quality of life. His disability has not been cured but the adaptations he has at his disposal means that he is able to achieve and be a confident, functioning member of society without pity or segregation.
There was an unintentional link between this film and Fata Morgana in that the professor talks about how much he hated the old buildings where he used to live which were inaccessible for him and other disabled patrons. He appreciates modernity and the adaptation of environments that are easier for him to navigate and live with. In Fata Morgana we see the detritus of modernity - carcasses of machines, smoke and flame billowing factories, upturned cars, sheet metal housing. It's ugly and we long for bricks and mortar; we long for craftsmanship and artistry. But in Handicapped Future we appreciate how this can hinder a large portion of our society.
The point of the documentary seems to be to highlight the contrast in healthcare and to show Germany and any other country watching how it could and perhaps should be done.
As someone with a sensory impairment disability I can see the good the film is trying to accomplish, but the quality of life for a disabled person can also be down to their own outlook on life and their ingrained personality. If you have confidence, drive and a fighting spirit then you can overcome social prejudice and achieve what you would have achieved anyway without your disability; if you're shy and passive you can live an independent life of modest means and indulge in your hobbies and enjoy the simple things in life; if you're dependant and enjoy being mothered then there are plenty of carers out there paid and/or willing to be there for you. Many disabilities can't be cured but they can be overcome, but the most important ingredient is the will of the person who is disabled.
I'm not terribly sure Handicapped Future takes that into account, but it's vision and goal is to at least fight for the groundwork to be firm enough for disabled people to become independent and successful if that's what they so choose.
The choice, however, should always be theirs.
NEXT UP: LAST WORDS, AGUIRRE THE WRATH OF GOD and LAND OF SILENCE AND DARKNESS
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