I should probably go and see if the DVD of Donnie Darko is still available at my local video store; something tell's me it's not...
Last night I finally watched Steven Spielberg's Empire of the Sun SPOILERS, the second film that I have seen in as many days dealing with an adolescent boys experiences during WWII (though given the films's PG-13 rating, it wasn't as horrifying as Come and See). I will have to agree that it is among the most accomplished of Spielberg's films, even if I don't necessarily think of it as his best (I could reserve that spot for Jaws, Close Encounters of a Third Kind, ET, or Raiders of the Lost Ark), but it's up there. You get Spielberg's typical technical mastery, but the unusual complex characterizations and lack of an uplifting ending (the fact that Jim is not even looking for his parents, and they almost miss him, Jim's remote, emotionless expression and thousand-yard stare, the mix of exhaustion and shock; his lack of response to his mother's embrace; his father looking about nervously; really no swelling music, only the repeated musical motif of "Suo Gan"; since this is autobiographical, I think I can kind of understand how JG Ballard could write Crash; actually, this is perhaps the most disturbing Child-Parent reunion this side of AI: Artificial Intelligence).
The early scenes, before the Japanese invasion of Shanghai were very interesting, the Euro-American disregard for the Chinese, the imperialistic hubris and overconfidence couched on casual racism and ignorance (the one partygoer who baits Mr. Chen with racist epithets; Jim's expectations of his servants's unquestioning obedience, then he get's his comeuppance when his Amah slaps him), the almost willful ignorance of the plight of the Chinese refugees (even if Jim's dad appear more enlightened than the other whites). I think the scenes where the Europeans, in costume for a party, are forced to drive their shiny new cars through throngs of poor Chinese refugees desperate to flee the Japanese occuppation. Jim's stumbling onto the Japanese encampment is also a very tense scene; it's ominous to watch the Japanese soldiers stand atop the embankment in extreme long-shot, watching the scared Englishmen, and waiting. Of course, the invasion itself is also well orchestrated.
Jim is an interesting character. A smart rich kid, typically arrogant, he get's humbled in spades, but he is also resourceful and fearless (a quick example how he talks his way onto the Japanese truck to Suchow, and how he even hits the Japanese driver for disagreeing with his directions), a quick understudy to the Americans, who are portrayed, in general, as opportunistic, pragmatic, and cynical (with Pacie being the least upright substitute father in Spielberg's oeuvre); but I guess that is better than the British who try to keep a stiff upper-lip and keep a deluded sense of normalcy (playing golf?). Jim's fascination with the Japanese is another interesting trait, his interest in aviation giving him an almost traitorous respect for the Japanese pilots (the most Spielbergian moment is when Jamie is fondling the Zero and salutes the Japanese pilots (but then he seems to switch allegiance to the Americans and their P-51s); another is when he sings "Suo Gan" again to commemorate the kamikaze pilots), though he seems disconnected from the same Japanese brutality in the POW camp. We never get to see much of the Japanese other than Sgt. Nagata, who seems to be a run through for Goeth, but with a little more heart, Nagata is kind to the teenager who befriends Jim through their love of airplanes (you could see their roles being reversed in another situation) and even cries at one point at the sacrifice of the young pilots in suicide missions. I actually felt sorry for the Japanese kid who befriends Jim, he is so dissapointed when his Zero's engine sputters to a halt, not out of some devotion to the Emperor, but because he this will probably be his only chance to fly. Then he is mistakenly killed by the Americans, who have an almost casual disregard for Jim at this point, even though Jim's disappointment in Pacie is palpable.
The final scenes at the end of the war, perhaps approach the closest to the surreal in any Spielberg movie. The stadium full of European booty, the witnessing of the A-bomb and Jim's belief that it is the soul of Mrs. Victor going to heaven, and the food dropping from the sky, Jim's surrender to the expressionless American forces after having his run of the empty camp. If not the surreal, atleast the absurd. That the film ends with a shot of Jim's suitcase, full of his childhood toys and wartime booty, is shown bobbing in Shanghai bay, echoing the coffins in the beginning, is an apt summation of the loss of childhood innocence through war. Again, a message akin to Come and See.
Here are some comments Spike Lee has made regarding him supposedly being passed over to direct Ali. The gist of his argument is that white people shouldn't make a film about black people. "I'm tired of other people documenting our history," he says. Basically, I think Spike's argument is bullshit and I, frankly, doubt that Lee could've directed a better Ali than Mann. His film, I think, is a highly flawed, but ultimately worthy effort.
McBain and I have already discussed both Lee's contention as well as the worth of the film on AIM, but we thought this would make a good Milk Plus discussion, so we're taking it here so's y'all can join in. I'll let him tell you his stance.
I wanted to respond to some comments that joker and yun-fat made about A Beautiful Mind. I'm not going to go out on a limb and defend the film, mulling over it a little more, especially the ending, I have had to downgrade it a little, since the film sums itself up with a statement about love and human relationships, which is great, all fine and dandy sentiments, but I would have accepted the film's viewpoint more if we had actually seen how Alisha's love gave Nash the strength to pull himself together. But we don't see how, other than her refusal to have him committed out of faith in her husband, and she almost totally drops out of the picture (which I guess is needed since she divorced Nash during the period ellided in the movie).
But what I really want to discuss, without sounding like xerxes, is at what point do we have to consider the intended audience of the picture? For example, A Beautiful Mind, while setting itself off as a serious movie dealing with serious issues (actually, I think that yun-fat is correct in calling it shallow but well crafted), it is not an art film, and has to be designed to be accessible to the widest possible audience. In terms of popular film, as opposed to art cinema or the avante-garde, I prefer getting my examination of serious "issues" through the entertainment of genre films instead of earnest, serious, middlebrow films, which I often find to be OK on some level, but less satisfying than a genre film or an outright art film.
You know, I didn't hate, or even really dislike, A Beautiful Mind; to me, it was a fine film that had it's moments. I did really like Russell Crowe's performance as John Nash, however; the strong, physical presence of Gladiator and LA Confidential reduced to a meek, mumbling, shambling man. Besides the outward mannerisms, tics, and accent, Crowe really brought a nice combination of outright awkwardness, complete lack of social grace (always good for a few laughs), arrogance and vanity. He moved like someone too big for his own body. I thought the rest of the cast was pretty good too.
Pretty much Spoilers, I felt the film lost steam after Nash was hospitalized and released. I was actually surprised to see that they ellided pretty much everything after 1957 to 1978. They did not just gloss over his divorce, his arrest for propositioning a man, etc., etc., they left it out entirely; from the outrage that the film has generated for playing fast and loose with the facts of Nash's life, I was kind of surprised to find out they just skipped over everything, which makes some of the criticism unfair IMO. As for the thriller aspects...Eh, I have mixed feelings. Yeah, it was kind of corny, but all things considered, I guess it was an effective way to introduce his delusions to a wider audience (I just don't know if a wider audience would have gone for two and a half hours of Russell Crowe mumbling to himself). I knew going in, that Charlie and Parcher were parts of Nash's schizophrenic delusions, and Howard and Goldman don't go to great lengths to hide these facts, nor do they cheat with the audience. I guess a fairer charge could be made of sensationalism.
Again, A Beautiful Mind, good, not great, and certainly not among the best of the year; redeemed by the performances and some pretty interesting moments (the explanation of Nash's game theory with the girls in the bar; the chuckle I got from the garbage man scene).
I watched Elem Klimov's 1985 anti-war masterpiece Come and See this morning on DVD (for some reason, the Kino Video release splits the film onto two discs); Hippy always talked highly of it, so I finally got it from the library. An article I read described the film as "apocalyptic," and Klimov's vision of German occuppied Byelorussia is indeed a mud-choaked, hellish landscape, the air filled with the constant droning of a Luftwaffe observation plane, the buzzing of nagging, biting insects, and the rumble of artillery explosions in the distance (along with the use of Mozart on the soundtrack). The most harrowing events of the film come in the second half, as the young teenager Floria, who left home to fight with the Soviet partisans, is swept up in an SS liquidation raid that burns down an entire village and kills all but a few inhabitants. The images of brutality, ugliness, and savagery of the attack are still playing in my mind.
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