Way more popcorn and ice cream than usual
I saw a bunch of good movies that intersect with each other over the weekend. For example, the eerie and unflinching simplicity of Hard Candy, which is like a play with close-ups and a few camera tricks, resembles the steadfast gaze of United 93, and both films are interestingly unsettling. United 93 itself, in form, is like a tweak of the recent Gus Van Sant movies, especially Elephant. Elephant observes a tragedy from several different (but similar) angles without judgment or much speculation as to motives or reasoning; similarly, United 93 cuts between various air-traffic agencies, the military, and the doomed 9/11 flight that was downed before it reached its terrorist-intended target. Because the event in question is larger in scale, the cuts are farther-reaching, between locations hundreds of miles from each other, while Elephant looked at a school shooting through long tracking shots down the same hallways in different directions. Paul Greengrass's edits are the equivalent of Van Sant's long takes: a way of taking in as much as possible while staying in the moment.
But United 93 isn't as brilliant as Elephant, because the moment it lives in is busier and more chaotic -- there is, appropriately, less time for atmosphere or character moments (the characters in Elephant were not well-developed, but they were vivid; the characters in United 93 are not). In the end, it is easy for docudrama, as a form, to limit itself, and it does here; United 93 is not a great movie in the sense that I would want to see it again, or have any reason to. It is an experience -- but a moving and valuable and well-made one.
The same could be said of Hard Candy, which succeeds at unnerving the audience. A somewhat creepy twenty or thirtysomething guy (Patrick Wilson) meets a fourteen-year-old girl (Ellen Page) after chatting with her online. They go back to his place. Although many reviews mention what happens next, plotwise, I think it's best not to know anything beyond that setup. It's creepy, and squirmy, and also a little too talky and repetitive to be great (United 93 also suffers from some repetition… I'm thinking both films could've been bigger gut punches at 90 minutes). But it works.
Combining sexual imagery with docudrama is The Notorious Bettie Page, a semi-biography with a fine performance by Gretchen Mol, and (like everyone has already said) good for her. Just in time. The movie itself has beautiful photography and is adept at showing the hows and whys of Bettie Page's sexiness, but the supporting characters could be more vivid and I'm not sure if the director, Mary Harron (who made the fabulous American Psycho, was entirely clear about the movie she was making. It's not particularly dramatic, but it's not a comedy, and it's not a comprehensive biography. It is fun, though.
Side note: what is up with the talented indie-chick directors getting relegated to cable TV? Harron's last movie before this one was American Psycho, six years ago; in the meantime, she's done episodes of Big Love and The L-Word. Alison MacLean made the wonderful Jesus' Son, the same year as Psycho. Her other work around or at that time includes episodes of Sex and the City and Carnivale. Nicole Holofcener has made only three movies in ten years (Walking and Talking, which I just saw and liked, and the more recent Lovely & Amazing and Friends with Money) and has filled the space with episodes of Six Feet Under and, yes, Sex and the City. This is dispiriting not just because all three of these women should be making more movies, but because Sex and the City is a terrible, terrible show.
In between movies, I hung out with Rob this weekend, and took him to see Brick (yes, "in between movies" I saw another movie). I also saw Rob last weekend which means I may find myself weeping softly this coming weekend when I'm forced to end the simulation of us living close to each other. Luckily, MI3, Art School Confidential, and a new Degrassi have offered me their shoulders to cry on. Bonus points if the new Degrassi has yet another scene where Manny suggests hiring a male stripper to drop it like it's hot.
But United 93 isn't as brilliant as Elephant, because the moment it lives in is busier and more chaotic -- there is, appropriately, less time for atmosphere or character moments (the characters in Elephant were not well-developed, but they were vivid; the characters in United 93 are not). In the end, it is easy for docudrama, as a form, to limit itself, and it does here; United 93 is not a great movie in the sense that I would want to see it again, or have any reason to. It is an experience -- but a moving and valuable and well-made one.
The same could be said of Hard Candy, which succeeds at unnerving the audience. A somewhat creepy twenty or thirtysomething guy (Patrick Wilson) meets a fourteen-year-old girl (Ellen Page) after chatting with her online. They go back to his place. Although many reviews mention what happens next, plotwise, I think it's best not to know anything beyond that setup. It's creepy, and squirmy, and also a little too talky and repetitive to be great (United 93 also suffers from some repetition… I'm thinking both films could've been bigger gut punches at 90 minutes). But it works.
Combining sexual imagery with docudrama is The Notorious Bettie Page, a semi-biography with a fine performance by Gretchen Mol, and (like everyone has already said) good for her. Just in time. The movie itself has beautiful photography and is adept at showing the hows and whys of Bettie Page's sexiness, but the supporting characters could be more vivid and I'm not sure if the director, Mary Harron (who made the fabulous American Psycho, was entirely clear about the movie she was making. It's not particularly dramatic, but it's not a comedy, and it's not a comprehensive biography. It is fun, though.
Side note: what is up with the talented indie-chick directors getting relegated to cable TV? Harron's last movie before this one was American Psycho, six years ago; in the meantime, she's done episodes of Big Love and The L-Word. Alison MacLean made the wonderful Jesus' Son, the same year as Psycho. Her other work around or at that time includes episodes of Sex and the City and Carnivale. Nicole Holofcener has made only three movies in ten years (Walking and Talking, which I just saw and liked, and the more recent Lovely & Amazing and Friends with Money) and has filled the space with episodes of Six Feet Under and, yes, Sex and the City. This is dispiriting not just because all three of these women should be making more movies, but because Sex and the City is a terrible, terrible show.
In between movies, I hung out with Rob this weekend, and took him to see Brick (yes, "in between movies" I saw another movie). I also saw Rob last weekend which means I may find myself weeping softly this coming weekend when I'm forced to end the simulation of us living close to each other. Luckily, MI3, Art School Confidential, and a new Degrassi have offered me their shoulders to cry on. Bonus points if the new Degrassi has yet another scene where Manny suggests hiring a male stripper to drop it like it's hot.