Why Seeing Benedict Cumberbatch on Sherlock Is an Aesthetically Rewarding Experience

I quite enjoy Benedict Cumberbatch in Sherlock.

I only gave the series a try after one of my best friends who came to visit me from Ohio a few weeks ago encouraged me to do so. And since I tend to share similar aesthetics with my close friends, I figured I'd enjoy it. And I did.

One of the things I quite appreciate about friendhsip is that it saves one a lot of time when it comes to selecting the right form of entertainment. And I am painfully picky about the latter.  Friendship is a good enforcer of efficiency. Ok, but why am I engaging in a non sequitur already? I'm not even past the third paragraph!

Alright, let's look at the trailer first and see if it suits your fancy:



I get a lot of work done usually with a particular episode of Sherlock in the background. I create a lot of work strategies as Cumberbatch utters the great script. The episode is called Scandal in Belgravia and it has replaced my quotidian dose of Curtis Hanson's Wonder Boys.

Aesthetically, this episode does something for me. I reckon I know what that is but it's far more interesting to talk about other things here. Like, the appeal of deduction. The big picture comes to light most beautifully in the end and the details are nicely delineated one by one as Sherlock deduces away.

By way of offering more context, Sherlock has a website called Science of Deduction and, funnily enough, the creators of the show have actually created a bona fide site that reflects what they mention in the series. Seriously, this series is so quirky it is bound to make one chuckle a few times. And Cumberbatch has some phenomenally gripping lines like: "Sherlock Holmes: Oh, enjoying the thrill of the chase is fine; creating the distraction of the game, I sympathize entirely but sentiment! Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side," or "'You look taller in photographs.'" - "Take the precaution of a long coat and a short friend." Or my favorite: "stop boring me and think!"

This is a fun series. I'd recommend the second season over the first and the current third. Cumberbatch has an Asbergers-like delivery of lines that is quite something to watch. I didn't use to be a fan of his but after seeing him in Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy I started to change my mind. I quite enjoy him now. And if you're looking for something fun and smartly written, give Scandal in Belgravia a try. It's available on Netflix as well as iTunes.

You might just keep revisiting it and use it as a background soundtrack too.

Harry: You look taller in your photographs.
Sherlock: Take the precaution of a good coat and a short friend. - See more at: http://www.planetclaire.org/quotes/sherlock/series-two/a-scandal-in-belgravia/#sthash.8iyzCoYD.

Harry: You look taller in your photographs.
Sherlock: Take the precaution of a good coat and a short friend. - See more at: http://www.planetclaire.org/quotes/sherlock/series-two/a-scandal-in-belgravia/#sthash.8iyzCoYD.dpuf

Harry: You look taller in your photographs.
Sherlock: Take the precaution of a good coat and a short friend. - See more at: http://www.planetclaire.org/quotes/sherlock/series-two/a-scandal-in-belgravia/#sthash.8iyzCoYD.dpuf

Harry: You look taller in your photographs.
Sherlock: Take the precaution of a good coat and a short friend. - See more at: http://www.planetclaire.org/quotes/sherlock/series-two/a-scandal-in-belgravia/#sthash.8iyzCoYD.dpuf

Harry: You look taller in your photographs.
Sherlock: Take the precaution of a good coat and a short friend - See more at: http://www.planetclaire.org/quotes/sherlock/series-two/a-scandal-in-belgravia/#sthash.8iyzCoYD.dpuf

Assorted Links

1) I managed to catch Last Night this weekend. Someone told me it was akin to Patrick Marber's screenplay of Closer. The real reason why I PVR-ed it however was Guillaume Canet whom I'd never seen in an English-speaking role before and, as a result, was curious to see as I generally enjoy his work. The narrative is predictable but there are interesting achievements of form in this film. Cinematically, it does well, too. While the characters and plot, for the most part, are predictably forgettable, the form and soundtrack beg for some attention.




2) Portlandia stars interview each other.
My favorite episode of the first season had to be the pilot.


3) There is a new study on the familial linkage between neuropsychiatric conditions and intellectual interests. You can read the article in full here. A bit says:

"Students aspiring to technical majors (science/mathematics/engineering) were more likely than other students to report a sibling with an autism spectrum disorder (p = 0.037). Conversely, students interested in the humanities were more likely to report a family member with major depressive disorder (p = 8.8×10−4), bipolar disorder (p = 0.027), or substance abuse problems (p = 1.9×10−6). A combined PREdisposition for Subject MattEr (PRESUME) score based on these disorders was strongly predictive of subject matter interests (p = 9.6×10−8)."

4) Where was the web invented? Well, Al Gore might give one answer. Other sources have other answers. Tip of the hat to Tyler Cowen for the pointer.

A bit says:

"I’ll bet if you asked every French politician where the web was invented not a single one would know this. The Franco-Swiss border runs through the CERN campus and building 31 is literally just a few feet into France. However, there is no explicit border within CERN and the main entrance is in Switzerland, so the situation of which country it was invented in is actually quite a tricky one. The current commemorative plaque, which is outside a row of offices where people other than Tim Berners-Lee worked on the web, is in Switzerland. To add to the confusion, in case Tim thought of the web at home, his home was in France but he temporarily moved to rented accommodation in Switzerland, just around the time the web was developed. So although, strictly speaking, France is the birthplace of the web it would be fair to say that it happened in building 31 at CERN but not in any particular country! How delightfully appropriate for an invention which breaks down physical borders."

Steve McQueen's Shame: A Review

I saw Shame today. I like Michael Fassbender in most the films he's done with one exception: Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds.

I generally tend to not judge accents as I'm a veritable soup of idiolects myself. However, Fassbender's accent in Inglourious Basterds is the stuff of headaches. But back to the Steve McQueen's Shame.

I like Fassbender's work a good deal. There's a certain gravitas he projects that few actors have the ability to carry. Born in Germany and raised in Ireland, he's a picture of cultural and linguistic diversity which is perhaps the reason why he appears to effortlessly play anything from a New Yorker to an aristocrat a-la-Jane-Eyre, or an X-Men-er.

The premise of Shame is the 'text' of shame and how it is engendered within a Judeo-Christian framework regardless of how far from prescribed religiosity it finds itself. I found the form of the film beautifully mimetic of a religious ritual. One good decision McQueen made is to go for Fassbender. It takes courage to take on certain roles and I most definitely don't see a Brad Pitt or a Clooney doing the same thing. Ok, maybe Colin Farrell or Jared Leto who by the way came to a mind a lot when viewing this film. Think, Requiem for a Dream, perhaps.

Most critics regard the film to be an examination of modern/urban sociality and how much the contemporary person wants to be tethered to others even though a good deal of current life seems to be about heightened individuality and insularity. McQueen's cinematic strength is not content, however. As a matter of fact, it rarely is. One thing he seems to do well, however, is explore the substance of form. The shots are clean, fast but not furious. McQueen's choices made me think of Doug Liman's portraiture styles. The camera rests on the characters just long enough till it gets moving again to the next point in the plot. Incidentally, this is how the film manages to deviate dullness. Aesthetically, this film is rich. Some of the city shots were also reminiscent of Nicolas Winding Refn's film Drive.

The past few years, at least since the actual boom of web 2.0, there seems to be little, if any, change in aesthetics. Incidentally, Vanity Fair's Kurt Andersen has a new article out on the question whether we as a culture are stagnating aesthetically. I thought of it while watching the film, actually. You can read it here.

I suppose it makes sense that form remains the one last frontier that's resisting change as all else around it has been changing mercilessly. Think technology. Hanging on to one thing seems to be the one crutch one needs to cope with the novelty and unpredictability of everything. Or is it? This seems to be the question that Brandon, the main character, tries to answer and eventually reject. Much in life seems to come easily to him. Much but not everything. He seems to bridle all else but basic urges about things he deems utterly trivial in broad daylight and when in the company of full lucidity.

Brandon seems to have it all on the surface. He's well employed, is generally well liked, at least on the surface, and seems to be governed by self-discipline. Only, he doesn't seem to do so as well as he appears.

He appears to want to connect to the world but the world seems to move simply too fast for him. His attachments are flimsy and most of the people he meets are forgettable. There seems to be a crisis of supply and demand when it comes to meaningful human connectivity. Brandon wants the opposite of what he has but the urban survival camp doesn't seem to be capable of providing it. He desperately wants the opposite of what he can get and every time he tries to leave his patterns of living, he falls right back into the known regardless of how much it is mired in dysfunction. Every night he goes after a new pursuit so that the next morning he can go back to all he knows.

Carey Mulligan plays his sister. I have only liked her in one film, An Education. All the other films that have ensued are nothing more than an imitation of her debut film. But then again, it would be hard to compliment a character who needs little support. Fassbender is no Pitt. He needs little support from other characters. A better script would have helped, no doubt.

Jessica Chastain is good in this. Very good. She's another example of an underrated performer often stuck in incoherent filmic choices, think the widely overrated The Help.

In sum, I enjoyed seeing Fassbender and I enjoyed the cinematography of Shame. What I didn't enjoy is McQueen's verbose effort to school the audience on addiction. His effort was, at best, sophomoric. His director of photography, however gets an A. Fassbender gets a solid A- but only because there's only that much he can do given the script.

In Shame, he is close to aces.

This film won't make you want to go back and brush up on your Descartes. Or perhaps Kant. It might just make you want to watch a bit of Kubrick and perhaps get a bit melancholy that he's been gone for a bit over a decade now.

Man from Earth: A Review

I've watched a plethora of films the past few months that I wouldn't necessarily Netflix on my own. One of the more gripping titles is Man from Earth (2007) the premise of which is not one I would have found intriguing before. Good thing I am allowing myself to be influenced these days, well, up to a certain point at least.
This film moved me.
What makes it particularly exquisite is the way it plays out in the setting of academia to which open-mindedness and acceptance of ideas is supposedly endemic.

It's hard to reveal fundamental truths to people. We often say we want to know these said truths but, when it comes down to it, we're happier believing untruths. Untruths are easier to process than, say, "Hi, I'm a caveman. I'm 14000 years old, I used to hang with Buddha and Jesus even though now I'm a college prof." or "you don't want to know how much I have in retirement funds" (the latter is my contribution to the script).

The caveman, appropriately named, John Oldman, informs his university colleagues over a farewell party that every 10 years or so, when people start to notice he does't age, he moves on. One thing the rest of the people around him have in common is the fact that they are not impervious to the effects of time. That rascal has its grips on everyone. Everyone but John, that is. Moving on is noble. Moving on is what courage is made out of. Moving, which is very much an epithet for life, his life, is what John knows best.

My favorite part in the film has to be when Art tells John that what he has revealed to his colleagues, i.e., that he's about 14000 years old, simply offends common sense. To Art's point, John says: "So does Relativity and Quantum Mechanics, that's the way nature works." Yes, nature doesn't care about politesse and norms and keeping up with etiquette and blah, blah, blah.

What this film tackles best is not just evolutionary biology or mythologized culture. What it does most dexterously is raise the question of question raising when it comes to knowledge and artificial cognition. Academia, generally speaking, is one arena in which critical thought and question asking should be not only ubiquitous, they should be the lingua franca. And questioning the status quo is not just an acceptable way to combat boredom, it is the way to add to systematized knowledge.

Shortsightedness, alas, is not a foreigner in academic circles. Quite often it reigns supreme. Who truly believes John's 'truth' anyway? Ok, Sandy perhaps, but she's majorly biased as she is in love with John so who's to take her motivations seriously, anyway? I won't reveal the ending of the film as, well, some people don't share my lack of belief in plot. The ending, however, plays quite well with the westernized notion of love/attachment and our belief that we matter and time somehow applies to everyone else but us. We will live forever, of course.

Do watch this. I cannot believe that I didn't know of this when it first came out but am glad I got schooled.

A Review of the Film "Tenure"

Knowing what it's like to teach in higher academia is not something one can simply read about. Experiential knowledge obviously trumps cognitive knowledge here. It's a lot like snowboarding, really. You get the hang of it by practicing. Teaching in higher academia is not the same for everyone. There are, however, certain similarities in the experience. Teaching is often the least important aspect of the experience and publishing new research takes precedence more often than not. The phrase 'publish or perish' is not simply a cute little thing someone came up with when pursuing tenure. It's real. At the core of it lies much truth about general progress and the tenure process in higher academia.

Publications don't happen with ease. On the contrary, to get published in a well regarded journal takes time. A whole lot of it. When an article is submitted for publication at a refereed journal, i.e., the only journals worth considering, it takes anywhere between 8 months to well over a year before the work can appear in print. Granted, this presupposes that the article will appear in print. More often than not, it won't. It is customary to get a lot of "Thanks, but no, thanks" before getting the one "Yes." And that is just one kind of stress.

And this also happens to be the premise of the new film Tenure starring Luke Wilson as the protagonist, Assistant Professsor of English, Charlie Thurber. Some of the film is basically conflated emotion and surface scratching. Some, however, is as close to reality as it gets.
"Passion isn't enough anyone. That's what messed up." says Professor Hadley, one of the characters in the film. And Prof. Thurber seems to concur towards the end of the film.

Professor Thurber - played better than most would have played him by the often underrated Luke Wilson - seems to do most everything right. The one thing he can't seem to do well is publishing. His article is rejected by every journal worth anything and it's been well over 6 six years since he started the tenure process. Unlike his father who had taught very successfully at an Ivy League school, Thurber finds himself at a small college of liberal arts somewhere in Pennsylvania with very little hope of getting tenure.

"I'm not charmed by you, Thurber" says an older colleague to self-effacing but lovable Prof. Thurber. However, who is charmed by Thurber are his students and that, in the end, seems to provide the only answer that matters to him.

Luke Wilson manages to show with relative ease what it means to enjoy one's chosen profession. Being a teacher is not just about knowing the material well. Granted, that's a necessary and important component. Being a teacher, a good one, is about human relatability. And that is Charlie's forte.

I suppose this film didn't manage to make it to the theaters because it is, as they say in Hollywood, a 'small film.' Small, more often than not, is good, however. And this film is no exception. Do rent or iTune it. You might be charmed by it.

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Tilda Swinton's Film "I Am Love": A Review

Tonight we saw the Tilda Swinton-produced film Io Sono L'Amore. We loved it and spent the drive to the restaurant, the dinner, and the drive back discussing it. Let me start by first pointing out that this is not a film that may be quickly watched, filed somewhere, and consequently forgotten. It tends to have the kind of effect that a truly rich tiramisu has: it'll unequivocally beg for attention from all of your senses and organs post-consumption. The film is steeped in literary traditions stemming from Sophocles while contemporaneously being bathed in rich visual imagery.

At the core of the film lies the deeply intimate relationship between Emma and her son who adores her completely, Edoardo. To be able to truly decode this beautiful relationship one needs to be able to truly get the relationship between Jocasta and Oedipus. This film offers a kind of visual feast that is truly overpowering to the senses. From the bold colors of Swinton's wardrobe to the gorgeous architecture and arts that the city of Milan has to offer, the list of aesthetic contributions goes on and on.

This film varies from others when it comes to the candid way in which it deals with familial dynamics, sibling rivalry, the discussion of a love lost between two long-term spouses, gender and identity, birthing one's self anew, attaching to new love, marriage, art appropriation and ownership, et al. Ah, and, naturalmente, there is the theme of the importance of the culinary arts and how they epitomize such basic human drives as sensuality, instinct, the pampering of one's taste buds and so forth.

In sum, did I like this film? Absolutely. I felt the way I tend to feel when at the Seattle Art Museum. Well fed. And if you love Europe and linguistic diversity, this film will most certainly not disappoint.
Brava, Tilda, brava!

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Tilda Swinton

As I was reading the news this morning I noticed a piece on NPR on Tilda Swinton's new feature I Am Love and it prompted me to think two things: 1) this is exactly the kind of film I would like to see now and 2) Swinton is so fabulously talented, Orlando anyone?

I cannot think of many artists who can transform themselves with as much seeming ease as Swinton. In Virgina Woolf's-informed Orlando, she plays a man who transforms over the course of time into a woman and the audience almost forgets that it's not simply viewing a feature film but that it's absorbing Woolf's lengthy novel, instead. She goes from portraying a working suburban mom in Thumbsucker to a mysterious character in The Limits of Control with a kind of ease that is bound to mesmerize one.

Swinton is the kind of talent that is strong enough to save less-than-mediocre and mediocre films. Films like The Beach, Constantine, and Burn After Reading were a let-down overall but the bits that feature Swinton make one forget the overall disappointment of the piece. And that is what a talented performer can do.

A bit from the recent NPR profile of Swinton reads: "For me," she says, "transformation is inevitable. That's what I find really fascinating about life, and I have since I was really very small. And I'm always interested when people fantasize that they can deny that it exists, or that they can have any control over it, or that change might be a choice. Change is the only thing we have, it seems to me, and it's with us all the time."

If you have not seen many of her features, I recommend that you visit her filmography at some point in time. You won't be disappointed. Below, see some of the many faces of Swinton's characters.

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Sex and the City: A Review

It was more like Snores in the City. I agreed to go watch it as it was very hot today and the house was especially hot. Since I have no patience for extreme heat, I agreed to go to the theater as it is very cool there and in the meantime the house would get cool, too.


I think it's been a while since the last time I was this bored in a movie theater (I believe Nine was the one that literally put me to sleep). SatC goes on and on and on. I found it, for lack of a better word, boring and inconsequential. One of the reasons why I used to think the original HBO series was bearable was because we basically had a 28-minute weekly episode that allowed us to take a wee break from the tedium of some weekly chores. The things I reacted to positively were the quick pace of story-telling and the costumes.

The second installment of the franchise is ridiculously absurd and the self-mythologizing characters lose every ounce of relatability and relevance. Lavishness and love of labels are central in the film and in the end all we get is a parade of costumes, which are in actuality beautifully put together by stylist Patricia Field, and no actual substance. Field has done her job wonderfully yet again. I cannot say the same for the screenwriters. I did not get the point of the narrative because, well, I think they considered the need for an actual story to be so very last season. So, what is this film about?

Well, other then the costumes, I really cannot say I know. Here are a few things that I kind of vaguely remember. Let's see. Carrie's been married for two years and there's already trouble in paradise, she tells us. Her Mr. Big likes to stay home, enjoy home-cooked meals and watch the news and old movies on TV. What a horrible man! She, on the other hand, wants to go out all the time and finds take-out to be a bit of an eye sore. On the other hand, she has no desire or interest in cooking or eating in. Ever. Their apartment is beautifully decorated and the Prestons have not been touched by the recession, at all. In addition, they also have Carrie's older apartment so if they do need to get space from one another in their already spacious apartment, they can.

Carrie's problems, she tells us, stem from fear of becoming too traditional and, oh no, boring and bored. Very relatable, indeed. In Sex and the City 'reality', there's no mortgage and job market troubles. Work, shmork. Let's all sip a cosmo while dressed in Dior. What a non-story. Yawn! I try to find something good about the films I see but as far as this one goes, sorry folks, I'm at a loss. The costumes are very well put together. The rest is completely forgettable as it's only been a few hours since I saw it and I can't really recall much. And good memory is apparently my forte, so go figure.

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Chloe: A Review

I had an opportunity to see the new film Chloe after returning from my travels in the Southwest. Visually, this is a stunning film.

Stunning.

The way director Atom Egoyan captured the color red particularly is simply breath-taking. Egoyan managed to translate eroticism and the text of misunderstood sociality well largely due to his expert use of the color palate. Economizing on language makes sense especially if other paralinguistic things do the talking such as color or the act of gazing through windows, or the text of clothing. The first thing I noticed while watching this film was the almost perfect way the color of the house matched Julianne Moore's red dress in the beginning of the film as well as Amanda Seyfried's character's red fingernails. Homework well done, indeed!

As we were in the theater I kept thinking of how much I had missed seeing Liam Neeson in a truly substantial role. Neeson doesn't just play the professor role well; he exudes it most effortlessly. There is much to say about talent shining through as a result of smart pairing and true professionalism. Few male characters play the 'good guy' characters as convincingly as Neeson.

Enter Julianne Moore.

Moore is the kind of actor who facilitates. One of the films in which I truly enjoyed her performance is a little indie title called Trust the Man. In it, she plays a well-known actress who struggles with the daily burden of quotidianity, family responsibilities, and female insecurity. It's in this little film that I remember feeling justified in my usual enjoyment of her work. Moore is a pro and it shoes in the kind of work that her co-stars manage to produce. More recently, refer to Colin Firth's own Oscar-nominated performance in A Single Man which I reviewed here.
Chloe takes place in Toronto. The vibrant downtown is beautifully captured by Egoyan's lens. The area of Yorkville comes to life beautifully and the pace of daily life seems to match the pace of the narration quite well.

Another thing that struck me while watching the film is how much range Amanda Seyfried is showing. As a friend of mine noted to me about Seyfried's work in this film, "it breaks her out of a mold she might otherwise be stuck in." Her work in Big Love is worthy of attention and I have long thought that she has the potential to be very, very good. And that she is in this film.

This is a beautiful, sad, visually rich, and narration-mature film. The performances by Moore and Neeson stand out. But what perhaps is the making of the film is Amanda Seyfried's convincing portrayal of delusion and disassociation from reality. Ah, and the way the director captured the color red. It made me think of Pedro Almodovar for a bit. Maybe I'll revisit an Almodovar title or two in the near future.

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New Videocast: (500) Days of Summer

I am about to present my newly finished article on (500) Days of Summer at a conference and in this videocast I talk briefly about its premise. The main question I ask is: what is it about 'punk' that makes it so accepting by the mainstream?

This episode is available on my iTunes series Gendering the Media with Brikena Ribaj as well as here on HetPer.

You may view me discuss this film here.

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Nuit Blanche: Brilliant

I was happy to learn about this short film by Arev Manoukian. Economy of speech and a wealth of visual poetry all rolled into one. Nuit Blanche translates human connectivity most impressively on the screen.

Nuit Blanche from Spy Films on Vimeo.

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Tom Ford's A Single Man: A Review

Tom Ford's film A Single Man impressed me. This is the fashion expert's directorial debut and he does indeed deliver. Ford not only directed the picture but he also adapted Michael Isherwood's book and co-wrote the screenplay. It appears that this hands-on approach to film-making worked for him. The visual poetry was something sharp you'd expect out of a Ridley Scott or a Fellini a-la 8 1/5. A Single Man is a beautiful and beautifully filmed film. Actually, it is so good and succinct that it's bound to confuse the senses. Seeing it only once might not be enough to process it fully as it has a bit of a Totalkunstwerk feel.

I've thought for a while now that what makes Tom Ford fascinating to me is not his ability to be privy to people's fashion tendencies, and most importantly, their purchase inclinations, but rather how well he translates and adapts straight lines to the human form. Ford gets human form. More specifically, he gets the masculine form. An underwater Firth, for instance, might just make one think of Michaelangelo's David. I cannot think of more poetic clothing than Ford's beautifully and minimalistically cut slim pants and fitted white shirts. And Colin Firth proves to be a good model for Ford's fitted suits, body-fitting white shirts, and black Oxfords. As a matter of fact, Colin Firth's character of George is very much reminiscent of a black-and-white wearing Marcello Mastroiani in Fellini's 8 1/5. Even their spectacles match almost perfectly. I was much amused by the overall aesthetic similarity, as a matter of fact. But then again, it's only natural that Ford would tip the hat to Fellini a bit after having worked in Italy for a while.

In this film Ford creates an arena for the treatment of social minorities in the Los Angeles of the 1960's. He manages to translate the climate of subversive homophobia and the pre-Civil Rights movement almost too effortlessly. He manages to say much for economizing on speech and splurging on gazing and body language. Another plus of the film is the cast. Matthew Goode, who has made some good cinematic decisions in his career, plays the character of confident Jim who lives life on his own terms not because he can necessarily but because he chooses to. Another most suitable supplement to this film is Julianne Moore's character of Charlie whose sort-of-marginal aesthetics situate her well as a kind of visual minority in the film.

Ford's managed to capture Colin Firth's heteronormative sex appeal and apply to a wider all-gendered context. Colin Firth in a white shirt is as appealing in A Single Man as he is in the pond-swimming scene in BBC's Pride and Prejudice. And herein lies the director's actual cachet. He gets visual appeal and he most certainly gets perception. It is no coincidence, after all, that Ford headed successfully Gucci and Yves Saint Laurent for a long time. I liked this film very well. I was expecting to be distracted and instead I found we had enough talking points for dinner. And that's always a plus on a Friday night.

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Inglourious Basterds: Well Worth the Praise

I'm the kind of cinephile who is more likely to view a Wim Wenders film multiple times than go, by my own volition, to a Tarantino film. In my circle, there is a joke that started back in '02 when I suppose I was heard quoting a Tarantino interview as featured on a German newspaper. "Die Leute gehen ins Kino, um die Stars zu sehen" meaning: "People go to the movies to see the stars." I was never that kind of moviegoer. It's not the stars that entice my moviegoing. Not in the least. So, this would be a fundamental aesthetic difference between someone like me and the kind of audience that Tarantino envisions for himself.

Now, I've gone to Tarantino films, of course. The reason was simple. As the saying has it, 'one for them and one for you.' So, if my people will go to see obscure films with me, then I have to give in and watch other stuff as well. Trust me, I enjoy a good blockbuster a much as the other person. Two words: Sherlock Holmes. That I saw twice by my own volition, of course. Entertainment is better when varied, after all.

Tarantino is not without artistic worth. Pulp Fiction was good. No doubt. Kill Bill, I had potential, well not much, but definitely some. The reason why I wanted to see Inglourious Basterds is because of one thing: satire. I read that he satirizes Nazi notions and Third Reich cinema in quite an informed fashion. I read that he is as comprehensive in his references as 153 minutes allowed him to be. And watch it, I did.

Inglourious Basters is the kind of film that would do justice to any college film course that covers modern cinema. Much like an academic, Tarantino's review of literature displays a desire to be thorough and investigative. To truly appreciate this film means one thing: exposure to/understanding of European cinema. I was happy to see so many European and American actors work in such an effortless-seeming way. Action and performance flow so very well. This is a long film (consistent with Tarantino tendencies) but this is not the kind of 'long' that makes one want to look at the watch and fidget. This is the kind of film that makes one want to shower it with all the attention one can give. And, if you're linguistically minded, Holy Cow! The languages spoken in this film are English, German, French, and Italian. I cannot think of another film where four different languages felt like one. Tarantino managed to create an Esperanto-like atmosphere that really impressed me.

And the acting? My-oh-my, the acting! I could tell that Tarantino had done his homework most expeditiously in this area. Christoph Wantz' portrayal of the villain colonel is simply breathtaking. Eli Roth's eyes are mesmerising and Brad Pitt's populist language is nothing if not well-delivered. Till Schweiger, the very talented German actor, is another great addition to this cast. As is Daniel Brühl. I cannot think of a contemporary actor who would have played the role of the hero soldier better. Ah, and Mike Myers has a little part in this film as well.

I revisited Basterds again this weekend and I was glad I did. Give it a try. If you don't watch much Tarantino, it might just make you think differently of him. I do now.

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Avatar and Na'vi

If you've seen Avatar but do not really care to verbalize the fact that you were sort of into the whole 3-D experience, and perhaps even James Cameron, you might find that economy of speech will not quite apply to one aspect of it: the Na'vi language. If you're at all linguistically minded, you're bound to be impressed by this achievement.
In the spirit of candidness, I tend to have little interest in Cameron's work. I'm more interested in Nolan's type of action films, think Dark Knight. But, be it as it may, it is quite impressive to learn about the extensive work and research that Cameron put into this film, the narrative, and the language of the Na'vi. To create the Na'vi language, the director hired linguist Paul Frommer of USC's Marshall School of Business. This site has much to say about the syntax and phonology of the Frommer-concocted language. In sum, impressive stuff. Reading this information on Na'vi made me think the following, "so, basically, Na'vi is like a West Germanic language, verbal and substantive inflection allows for movement within the sentence. Hmm."

A bit from the article says:

Syntax

The most notable aspect of Na’vi syntax is the freedom of word order. The case system allows all 6 sequences of S, O, and V. Additionally, adjectives, genitives, and relative clauses can either precede or follow their heads.

Nouns and adjectives are tied together by the morpheme a, which comes between them and is attached as a bound morpheme to the adjective. For example, ‘long river’ is either ngima kilvan or kilvan angim.

So, tip of the hat to James Cameron and Paul Frommer for a most impressive cinematic and linguistic project.

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Mysteries of Pittsburgh, a Review

Mysteries of Pittsburgh is available OnDemand now. I thought I'd give it a careful look this time.
It's a tricky thing, this watching-film-based-on-literature thing as the viewer already had a preconceived notion of plot in mind.
Michael Chabon's first novel by the same title served as the inspiration for this film. Loose inspiration. Very loose.
As I was informed by a HetPer reader who also kindly sent me the screenplay to this film a few months ago this production was a rather sophomoric attempt.
I agree with him now.
But the film still has one important redeeming quality. I'll explain.

I gave the screenplay a looksee and it did seem to differ much from the novel. But then again, filmic adaptation is supposed to bring a number of differences and much novelty with it.

You see what makes Michael Chabon so brilliant is his infallible instinct about gender and gendered traits. Few authors can decode gender and sexuality the way he can. Naturally, his unique instinct is rather challenging to translate on the big screen and some understanding is required when judging any director's effort who attempts to adapt him.

One of the things that bothered me about Mysteries of Pittsburgh, the film, was the fact that they completely erased an entire character, Arthur.
Another thing which sort of relates to the first plot problem listed, is that the character of Cleveland who in the book is portrayed as rather heteronormative was turned into the love object of both Jane and Art.
Bad decision there.

Even though the usually brilliant Peter Saarsgard played Cleveland, it still left me, the reader/viewer wanting for more. A waste of talent, really.
One of the things that makes the book so poetic is the Art/Arthur relationship. This is at the very core of the book and it is entirely left out.
Ah, and then there's the Sienna Miller-played Jane who is too much in the center of the film. Miller has range but in this case her range was a little too wide. Less of her would have been more for the overall film.

Mena Suvari's Phlox could have been used more as the few minutes she's on the screen she does somehow bring you back to the novel. Suvari's version of Phlox looks like the French major Phlox in the book. Alas, she wasn't used enough.

And then there's Nick Nolte's 'Dad' character who could have been clothed with better lines but, of course, wasn't.
The one thing that delivers in this film is the city of Pittsburgh itself. I am lucky to be one of those people who gets the area and its references. This is a part of the country that one needs to see/experience to get. The heavy industrial traces of huge bridges and once productive factories are captured well enough in this film. They're not captured the way Curtis Hanson so brilliantly did in his version of the Chabon-inspired Wonder Boys, however.

Cities like Pittsburgh are difficult to capture for the big screen as they are truly multilayered. Even though they ooze concrete urban and industrial vibes, they're also somehow rustic. It's an odd combo but it's also what makes this neck of the woods so uniquely beautiful.
Even though geographically I tend to privilege the West, there's something truly poetic about Pittsburgh. It's one of those places where literature can get inspired.

Mysteries of Pittsburgh has many cinematic flaws.
It's one redeeming quality, however, is its capturing of Pittsburgh.
After those of you whom I know in real life have had a chance to see this film, I know I'll most likely receive texts saying, 'I liked the book better.'
As you should.
However, I find myself espousing a kind of compassionate leniency that's informed by one thing and one thing alone: Pittsburgh.

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Adam, Asberger's Syndrome, and Sociality

It was around November and it was raining. I was wearing my (at the time) favorite black leather French resistance-inspired hat and the rain wasn't bothering me at all as it tends not to for the most part, anyway.

We were conversing about this and that while sipping from the paper cups and enjoying the rain.
Then came the revelation. It was disclosed to me in full intimacy and honesty what the other party had as a chronic condition. For the first time in my life I got to know experientially what so many people before me used to mean when using the word 'compassion'. I also learned for the first time that true intimacy is born out of difficult sharing. I remember uttering no words. All I offered was a smile followed by a hug. No words were necessary. Just pure, unadulterated, and honest sociality.
This experience of mine came to life again while viewing the new film Adam.

Since that rainy November day, my appreciation for and understanding of people who suffer with/from chronic conditions has increased immeasurably.

In the film Adam, the main character has Asperger's Syndrome and while the film does bear his name, the story itself is more about his soon-to-become lover and dear friend Beth Buchwald who is convincingly played by Rose Byrne. In a well crafted manner, the film manages to recount rather effortlessly and comfortably how Beth comes to deal with Adam's condition and how she is instrumental in teaching him how to get integrated into the world and live independently.

Hugh Dancy plays Adam and I have enjoyed Dancy's performances in basically everything he's done. He seems to be the kind of performer who makes it easy for the people he acts with to, well, act.

I recommend this film to you not out of its great cinematic values. Granted it does deliver on quite a few counts. What makes this story one I think you should explore is the message it imparts. That it takes a village to do life, whether you're syndrome-influenced or not. The film captures effortlessly the need for healthy and honest sociality and how it is, more often than not, stronger than the most potent pharmaceutical drug.

Here's the preview.

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Cairo Time

Cairo Time is directed by Ruba Nadda and it features two very good and at times underrated actors, Alexander Siddig and Patricia Clarkson.

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Sam Mendes' "Away We Go": Do Stay There, Please!

Away We Go, the new film by Sam Mendes annoyed me as much as a Judd Apatow concoction. Let me amend this a bit by way of being a tad kinder to Apatow. At least, with the latter I know what kind of merchandise he's moving. Ergo, I'm prepared.

In the case of Away We Go, Mendes tells the story of a young couple who finds out they're about to have a child. They live in a rural area and in a run-down shack-like domicile which happens to be in close proximity to the man's parents. Incidentally, they don't seem to have the resources to fix one of their windows as cardboard is what is covering it but that might just be a temporary fluke I'm willing to ignore.

While the man's parents seem to swim in a sea of expendable income and bizarro art pieces costing anywhere around fourteen thousand American dollars, the son is living in nigh squalid conditions clearly rejecting to enter the 'regular' work force. Yes, he's a college dropout but he does have great promise and is very intelligent. At least, that's what we're told and if you can't trust the storyteller who the heck can you trust, right?

However, Burt's one redeeming quality is that he loves his girlfriend, Verona, who refuses to become his wife even though she loves him with utmost sincerity and is in the relationship for the long haul. Upon finding out that the parents had decided to move to another country, Antwerp, Belgium to be more specific, the expecting couple needs to consider a new place/area as a potential home for the upcoming baby.

And away they go.

They come up with an itinerary to visit various family members and friends who live in places like Phoenix, AZ, Madison, WI, Miami, FL, ah, and Montreal, Quebec.

Let me intimate again that the couple is struggling financially. The woman is an artist apparently but she doesn't seem to be affiliated with anything. They tell us she is talented and we take their word for it. However, we don't quite know how she goes about getting cash for her supposed talent. The man sells some kind of insurance over the phone and apparently all he needs is phone access.
Ok.

The sentiment is indeed noble here. They want to make sure they have a good support system in place for the new addition to the family and they realize that the presence of a healthy network of people is not a luxury, it's a necessity. However, none of people/couples they visit have their kind of special love and strong commitment. You see, I'm willing to overlook the condescension here in hopes that the story redeems itself towards the end.

It doesn't.

Sam Mendes seems to come from a good place. He seems to know that in the face of new economic and social hardships a strong support system might just be the ticket to survival. There's nothing wrong with his vision here. It's the execution of said vision that leaves much to be desired.

What is primarily wrong with this film is that it reeks of a kind of self-indulgence that would make Liberace first blush and then weep of public embarrassment.

The couple seems to have this self-righteous air about them, something that says 'we're so much better than all of friends and family members. Our kind of love is so much better. It's better because we're authentic.'

And away go the viewers who leave the theater after having been subjected to yet another nonsensical story about the guilts and complexes of yuppihood.

As a traveler I know a thing or two about the cost of trips, be they small or not so small. My main question at the end of the film was this: Just where do Burt and Verona find all the cash to finance their many trips?
I'm thinking they're hurting for cash since they live in pretty bad conditions. And yet, these thirty-somethings with no clear careers to support them, have enough cash and/or plastic limit to go from AZ to Montreal, rent cars, stay in hotels, buy gifts for people and so forth.

Do movies not hire consultants any more? You know, people who actually know what it's like to live in the real world where bills need to get paid, income needs to get generated, and children cost a whole lot of shekels?

I felt like I was listening to Peggy Noonan's commentary about the economy and life where all of the analogies and metaphors come from the Upper East Side and dinners that Wall Street types frequent. I mean, I respect much of Noonan's writing but sometimes when she speaks I feel like she's coming from a planet alternative to ours. Maybe it's the same place where Sam Mendes resides. I realize this is not a logical digression but I thought I'd go with it.

You see, the story simply doesn't add up. Not in real life, at least.

I don't know in which world Sam Mendes thought this was plausible but it sure isn't the tune we hear in a world circa 2009 where financial consciousness and an overall "editing of one's life" has become the current modus vivendi.

Away We Go is a big bowl of wrong as Jeff Greene would say.
And I had hopes for it. The guy made American Beauty after all. Is he washed up already?

So, should you watch this film?

If your entertainment budget allows for it, then do so by all means. If I were you, I'd spend the money on something far less extravagant and much more useful like, oh, I don't know, iPhone apps.

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500 Days of Summer - I Approve

"Oh, how I *heart* this film!" says a text message I composed while in the theater.

I have noted in here before that the year 2004 meant a whole lot of things to me mostly because of the art I experienced. It was a whole lot of art and a whole lot of references. It was also the first year in which the sacrifices I made were specifically art-informed.
Ars gratia artis?
Pretty much, yes.

And even though I get a whole lot of artistic references on a daily basis, there's something inimitable about those spaces in time when you know you're getting things for the first time. Things like what it means to be late for an important meeting but deep down you're not harrowed by the usual sense of guilt/duty you've known your whole life because, after all, you were doing something great: you were watching a limited release indie film and while you were doing so you were "feeling infinite."
I had to insert a "Perks of Being a Wallflower" reference here, didn't I? It seems like the paragraph asked for it.

There's something to be said about films made by or for performers who either get music or make music. A cinematic artist with an informed interest in music is powerful. S/he begs for attention. I, at least, give them all the attention I can. And that's not a small or insignificant amount.

For instance, when Garden State first opened, I remember feeling the need to see it. Alas, it wasn't opening where I lived so I flew to a place where it was playing. You know those times in life when you don't know what you are experiencing or are about to experience and yet you get this 'sense of possibility' in the air that you don't know how to explain but are very happy to have?

Consider it a rhetorical question.

Some context here might help.

I first flew to Seattle and then to Minneapolis. I saw Garden State and when Zach Braff was letting the soundtrack do as much of the storytelling as his language/script, I recognized a feeling I only get when in the company of the kind of art that's congruent with my own essence. I, as a fellow art lover, felt 'gotten.' My edification was sort of the kind I get when at a Verdi opera or during the last leg of an impeccable dinner where all the right things are uttered at the right time and with the right tone

I should have reviewed 500 Days of Summer earlier but I needed the right kind of language and the right kind of space to come my way. And they did. Just as I was catching up with my favorite cousin while randomly rocking out to Deep Purple, the Stone Temple Pilots, and naturally, The Killers. The musical references are nothing if not relevant here.

For one thing is certain, if music doesn't mean a whole lot of important things to you, you will not get the point of this film.

500 Days of Summer is delicate, musically informed, fragile, existential, and beautifully played by two spot-on performers: Zooey Deschanel and Joseph Gordon-Levitt.

Incidentally, if you didn't see Joseph Gordon-Levitt in Brick, I'd recommend that you do. He has this weight of innate melancholy about him that comes out occasionally in 500 Days of Summer but the viewer cannot be fully aware of it if s/he has not seen it in its full glory. Brick wasn't necessarily my cup of tea but his acting made the film-viewing experience noteworthy.


This is a beautiful picture. It will make you feel. It will make you think. It will make you feel even luckier to have the gift of music. It might make you think, but for a fleeting moment, of Shopgirl, the Science of Sleep, and Garden State.

Ah, and this:

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Ist Brüno In oder Aus? Ich sage Aus!

A screening of Brüno (2009) in a German-speaking setting is one thing. A screening of it somewhere else is something else.
I explain.
As a German speaker, I have a healthy list of reasons as to why this film vexed my ears. The whole grammar thing does a number on me. File it under occupational hazard.

As a moviegoer, I also have a generous list of reasons why this film is nothing more than a visual and audio nuissance. During the middle part of the film, I believe one of us uttered the following: "Was ist denn das?!?"

Sascha Baron Cohen's German is full of flaws. But that is not the reason why this film is so horrendous. I didn't go into the experience expecting him to break into some Goethe-informed soliloqui after all.

Brüno, the movie, is basically a rehashing of Cohen's Brüno character in his TV show Da Ali G show.
The literary scholar in me was annoyed by how grossly stereotyped gender and gendered portrayals were. More than a few 'dudes' were let out during the viewing. None of them were shock-informed. Mostly they were produced out of boredom, vexation, and annoyance.

I was bored to tears. More specifically, I was on the verge of leaving the theatre but in an effort to be not-so-rude and kind to my company, I chose to play with my iPhone instead. I turned into one of those people I criticize condescendingly in my mind when I'm at the movies. Since we were way in the back I didn't seem to bother the other moviegoers too badly by way of the iPhone light, but still, I felt like I was not using my time wisely by being there. The only other time when I and mine had the urge to walk out in the middle of a movie was when Once Upon a Time in Mexico opened. But that's a different story. In comparison, that movie seems like Gladiator now.

Brüno also managed to make me cringe a few times. I felt genuine embarrassment when he tries to trap former Republican presidential candidate Ron Paul in a sexually compromising setting. The camera angels were good in that scene. They captured Ron Paul's discomfort most effectively. I felt really badly for Paul and found myself shaking my head at the episode. Somehow, I failed to see the humor.

One thing the film managed to capture well, and I credit Larry Charles's good cinematic instincts here, was the conclusion of the film where a mullet-sporting Brüno is seen on a wrestling ring about to fight against Lutz his 'plain Jane' assistant's assistant.

I get what Cohen's doing here. He turns into a provocateur for the purpose of making the point that people are people and gender is gender. In this sense, Brüno is not any less 'normative' than say the rest of us. The way he goes about actualizing his premise however is old, tired, yes, boring.
In Brüno, Cohen reduces gender to nothing more than a cultural clichee. The performative aspect of gender however is a tricky thing to translate crossculturally. This is yet another area in which Cohen manages to fail.

I had hopes for Brüno. "It can't be that atrocious," I told my people. I mean, Larry Charles directed it. And I like Larry Charles. He's directed a lot of Seinfeld and Curb Your Enthusiasm episodes and he gets comedic timing. The thing is, even the smartest director is no cure to a tired format and sophomoric predictability. Talent can take one only so far, after all.

Brüno, du bist aus. Nicht in. Tut mir Leid.

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