Five women giving the award is an interesting change to the tradition of having the previous year's Best Supporting Actor present the award. Was Javier Bardem not available? Or is it a pre-emptive move if Heath Ledger wins tonight and would thus be unavailable next year?
Actually, this seems to have been inspired by Celebrity Rehab where the addicted stars all tell one another how proud they are for overcoming drugs or whatever. The Oscars have almost literally group therapy. Though what did Anjelica Huston mean by that "we don't always know what you're saying, literally at least"?
Anyway, the Oscar went to Penelope Cruz, as expected.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
The Academy Awards as another reason to hate George W. Bush
He drives the economy into a ditch and we get an Oscars ceremony and telecast so pared down that it seems like an afterthought. The opening number seems like an outtake from a high school musical version of High School Musical. Dammit, I don't want mediocrity in my Oscar opening numbers, I want mind-numbingly awful. Although that Reader riff and the concluding song in the melody is coming close.
The speed-dating Red Carpet was sucky too. We get 15 seconds to hear banal answers to inane questions and gaze at the pretty clothes? Where was that one journalist asking Kate Winslet about doing nude scenes as we saw in 2007?
The Oscars are supposed to skirt close to being a train wreck. This just seems half-hearted. Oh well... I guess it's another reason to drink heavily tonight....
The speed-dating Red Carpet was sucky too. We get 15 seconds to hear banal answers to inane questions and gaze at the pretty clothes? Where was that one journalist asking Kate Winslet about doing nude scenes as we saw in 2007?
The Oscars are supposed to skirt close to being a train wreck. This just seems half-hearted. Oh well... I guess it's another reason to drink heavily tonight....
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Film Courses then, Film Courses now
The lighting situation in the room where I show films for my courses is unacceptable -- two lights on either side of the room (four in total) remain on at all times, creating a great deal of light pollution. I've had to explain to students what happened in scenes that take place at night or in dark rooms. Luckily, the staff here is open to remedying the situation and hopefully a new setup will happen soon.
But it occurred to me that my first experience in film courses (at Indiana University) is quite different than my experiences at other institutions as both a student and as an instructor/professor. At IU in the late 1980s/early 1990s, film courses had their screenings at night; none started before 6 pm. This meant that any room could be used for screenings because even if the sun hadn't gone down completely, the blinds could be closed to make the room dark enough. Furthermore, screenings lasted at least 3 hours and sometimes 4. I first saw Rules of the Game and Breathless back to back in one 3 1/2 hour bloc (and yes, it was an absolutely numbing experience for me). Such double features were not at all uncommon.
I haven't had on a regular basis a three hour bloc for screenings since. Screenings were incorporated into class time at UCLA so that a short lecture could precede multiple films but that depended on the class -- it was common in the German film class but (if I recall correctly) relatively uncommon in the American cinema and French film classes, although we did see more than one film a week in those courses. At Arizona, we had a two hour bloc in which to show films in the late afternoon; students were advised that they might have to stay longer on some occasions (and the university supported this) but generally speaking we had to show films of less than 120 minutes. At Auburn, I have two and a half hours but the screenings are scheduled during the day, which limits the options for where they can be shown (and complicates possible solutions to the aforementioned light problem).
This seems like a problem to me: We don't get enough time to encourage a love of film by showing films back to back. Doing so helps students see connections across time or understand how the stylistic traits of, say, German Expressionism vary across films in that period or how classic Italian neorealism is modulated in La Strada. I recognize that universities have budgeting and credit-hour considerations but it feels to me like the educational part of a film course is attenuated by shortening the time in which students come together to watch films. We should be encouraging, we should be cultivating students' cinephilia, not treating the film as another assignment reducible to the amount of time spent in class.
The problem is, I think, connected to the fact that most film students don't get to watch anything on film anymore. Although many actual prints of films were shown at UCLA, we also used DVDs and even VHS on some occasions. We used only laser discs, VHS and DVD at Arizona and I have never had the opportunity to screen an actual print in any of the classes I have taught myself (although the projectionist at LACC did tell me he could get me a battered print of Citizen Kane if need be). At IU 15 or so years ago, we had mostly films (with the occasional laser disc -- imagine seeing Amarcord for the first time and having it interrupted so the professor could flip the disc). Again, I certainly understand the budgetary reasons for this -- film prints are expensive, they require either special storage facilities or distribution services, etc. But the picture quality on a good print is still better than even that offered by BluRay discs (which still look video-y to me).
And at risk of getting too esoteric, I'd connect this to both my occasional disenchantment with film as an art form and my interest in religion as a social and cultural phenomenon. When I was younger, going to the movies felt almost as though it were a religious experience to me, and this included when I was headed to a classroom full of uncomfortable desk-chair combinations. Not being much of an A/V person (text has always been more important to me than tech) I didn't learn to thread a projector until the end of my undergraduate career so the the machine had a certain mystery about it for me: It was the source of magic (for want of a better word) in the back of the room, we could see the light and feel the heat emanating from it. The entire process felt material. Now all I do is plop a disc into the DVD tray and push a button; the digital code is transferred via cables to an ungainly box suspended from the ceiling which projects the image that feels just somehow wrong. It's cold, it's impersonal. It's not the medium I fell in love with.
My disenchantment is waning as I write, by the way. As an historian, I suppose I always have one eye on the past and those are the films that continue to inspire me. But recent films -- There Will Be Blood, Sunshine, Batman Begins and Children of Men and even films I consider flawed like No Country for Old Men, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, The Dark Knight and Munich -- have moments that inspire me. This is a long way of saying that I think my disenchantment might be a result of changes in technology and their impact on me as a scholar and educator. Or perhaps it's a result of my historical bent, a tendency to look into the past and see it as inherently more interesting because it's the past. In any event, lately I've been feeling more vital as a film scholar, film teacher and film fan. If only I could get more time and actual celluloid prints....
But it occurred to me that my first experience in film courses (at Indiana University) is quite different than my experiences at other institutions as both a student and as an instructor/professor. At IU in the late 1980s/early 1990s, film courses had their screenings at night; none started before 6 pm. This meant that any room could be used for screenings because even if the sun hadn't gone down completely, the blinds could be closed to make the room dark enough. Furthermore, screenings lasted at least 3 hours and sometimes 4. I first saw Rules of the Game and Breathless back to back in one 3 1/2 hour bloc (and yes, it was an absolutely numbing experience for me). Such double features were not at all uncommon.
I haven't had on a regular basis a three hour bloc for screenings since. Screenings were incorporated into class time at UCLA so that a short lecture could precede multiple films but that depended on the class -- it was common in the German film class but (if I recall correctly) relatively uncommon in the American cinema and French film classes, although we did see more than one film a week in those courses. At Arizona, we had a two hour bloc in which to show films in the late afternoon; students were advised that they might have to stay longer on some occasions (and the university supported this) but generally speaking we had to show films of less than 120 minutes. At Auburn, I have two and a half hours but the screenings are scheduled during the day, which limits the options for where they can be shown (and complicates possible solutions to the aforementioned light problem).
This seems like a problem to me: We don't get enough time to encourage a love of film by showing films back to back. Doing so helps students see connections across time or understand how the stylistic traits of, say, German Expressionism vary across films in that period or how classic Italian neorealism is modulated in La Strada. I recognize that universities have budgeting and credit-hour considerations but it feels to me like the educational part of a film course is attenuated by shortening the time in which students come together to watch films. We should be encouraging, we should be cultivating students' cinephilia, not treating the film as another assignment reducible to the amount of time spent in class.
The problem is, I think, connected to the fact that most film students don't get to watch anything on film anymore. Although many actual prints of films were shown at UCLA, we also used DVDs and even VHS on some occasions. We used only laser discs, VHS and DVD at Arizona and I have never had the opportunity to screen an actual print in any of the classes I have taught myself (although the projectionist at LACC did tell me he could get me a battered print of Citizen Kane if need be). At IU 15 or so years ago, we had mostly films (with the occasional laser disc -- imagine seeing Amarcord for the first time and having it interrupted so the professor could flip the disc). Again, I certainly understand the budgetary reasons for this -- film prints are expensive, they require either special storage facilities or distribution services, etc. But the picture quality on a good print is still better than even that offered by BluRay discs (which still look video-y to me).
And at risk of getting too esoteric, I'd connect this to both my occasional disenchantment with film as an art form and my interest in religion as a social and cultural phenomenon. When I was younger, going to the movies felt almost as though it were a religious experience to me, and this included when I was headed to a classroom full of uncomfortable desk-chair combinations. Not being much of an A/V person (text has always been more important to me than tech) I didn't learn to thread a projector until the end of my undergraduate career so the the machine had a certain mystery about it for me: It was the source of magic (for want of a better word) in the back of the room, we could see the light and feel the heat emanating from it. The entire process felt material. Now all I do is plop a disc into the DVD tray and push a button; the digital code is transferred via cables to an ungainly box suspended from the ceiling which projects the image that feels just somehow wrong. It's cold, it's impersonal. It's not the medium I fell in love with.
My disenchantment is waning as I write, by the way. As an historian, I suppose I always have one eye on the past and those are the films that continue to inspire me. But recent films -- There Will Be Blood, Sunshine, Batman Begins and Children of Men and even films I consider flawed like No Country for Old Men, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, The Dark Knight and Munich -- have moments that inspire me. This is a long way of saying that I think my disenchantment might be a result of changes in technology and their impact on me as a scholar and educator. Or perhaps it's a result of my historical bent, a tendency to look into the past and see it as inherently more interesting because it's the past. In any event, lately I've been feeling more vital as a film scholar, film teacher and film fan. If only I could get more time and actual celluloid prints....
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
A Thousand Little Cuts ....
This database is at once utterly extraordinary and
totally depressing.
Is this any fucking way to think about how movies matter?
totally depressing.
Is this any fucking way to think about how movies matter?
Monday, July 7, 2008
Screw EW on 2 levels
As Paul rightfully notes, Entertainment Weekly's list of 100 recent classics is an embarrassment to all things cinematic. Not only is Napoleon Dynamite on the list, it's five places higher than In the Mood for Love. In a just world, the EW offices would have burned to the ground in an act of God/s but this is not a just world.
But rather than just gripe, perhaps we should compile our own list. I'd offer the following five, in no real order:
1. Magnolia
2. Unforgiven
3. Talk to Her
4. Children of Men
5. Tarnation
But here's another question: Has the Internet made such lists all the more suspect? They've always been of limited use, although an essential part of the cinematic experience. Even Cahiers found value in them. But in an age when everyone who has an opinion now has a place to get it published in some sense, and in an age when lists proliferate like Tribbles on Viagra, does singling out the best really mean anything any more? What film can't find a home on some best-of list somewhere?
Or perhaps more pointedly: What's the use of a general best-of list like this, or of the term classic? Has the Internet atomized film so much -- as evidenced by clips, fake trailers and the like posted to YouTube, message boards that dissect scenes for flaws in computer graphics, etc. -- that the concept film as a singular entity, as a relatively coherent expression is meaningless? If one wants to put together a list of "best films to do bong hits to" then Children of Men or There Will Be Blood or Russian Ark might not make the cut. In the retarded high school movie category, Napoleon Dynamite is probably a classic.
Film has always been a popular (populist?) art. Has it become such of one that the masterpiece -- the film that most if not all will recognize as sublime achievement -- is an obviated concept?
Just asking.
But rather than just gripe, perhaps we should compile our own list. I'd offer the following five, in no real order:
1. Magnolia
2. Unforgiven
3. Talk to Her
4. Children of Men
5. Tarnation
But here's another question: Has the Internet made such lists all the more suspect? They've always been of limited use, although an essential part of the cinematic experience. Even Cahiers found value in them. But in an age when everyone who has an opinion now has a place to get it published in some sense, and in an age when lists proliferate like Tribbles on Viagra, does singling out the best really mean anything any more? What film can't find a home on some best-of list somewhere?
Or perhaps more pointedly: What's the use of a general best-of list like this, or of the term classic? Has the Internet atomized film so much -- as evidenced by clips, fake trailers and the like posted to YouTube, message boards that dissect scenes for flaws in computer graphics, etc. -- that the concept film as a singular entity, as a relatively coherent expression is meaningless? If one wants to put together a list of "best films to do bong hits to" then Children of Men or There Will Be Blood or Russian Ark might not make the cut. In the retarded high school movie category, Napoleon Dynamite is probably a classic.
Film has always been a popular (populist?) art. Has it become such of one that the masterpiece -- the film that most if not all will recognize as sublime achievement -- is an obviated concept?
Just asking.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
The New Classics?
Is it any wonder American film culture is all but dead?
Adding: I wouldn't expect Entertainment Weekly to do anything but produce a list designed to affirm its readership's tastes as opposed to challenging them but is there any way to justify a list of 100 "new classics" from the last 25 years that only includes 7 foreign language titles? If ranking Speed (#40) 50 places above In the Mood for Love (#95) why even bother to include foreign language films on the list at all?
Adding: I wouldn't expect Entertainment Weekly to do anything but produce a list designed to affirm its readership's tastes as opposed to challenging them but is there any way to justify a list of 100 "new classics" from the last 25 years that only includes 7 foreign language titles? If ranking Speed (#40) 50 places above In the Mood for Love (#95) why even bother to include foreign language films on the list at all?
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Lost Metropolis Found
Exciting news for the film world out of Buenos Aires:
Of course, the real anticipation is in wondering what Queen song they'll choose to score all the newly discovered scenes!
Last Tuesday Paula Félix-Didier travelled on a secret mission to Berlin in order to meet with three film experts and editors from ZEITmagazin. The museum director from Buenos Aires had something special in her luggage: a copy of a long version of Fritz Lang’s Metropolis, including scenes believed lost for almost 80 years. After examining the film the three experts are certain: The find from Buenos Aires is a real treasure, a worldwide sensation. Metropolis, the most important silent film in German history, can from this day on be considered to have been rediscovered.
Of course, the real anticipation is in wondering what Queen song they'll choose to score all the newly discovered scenes!
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