Random New Year-related housekeeping

It must be said: 2010 hasn't been the most impressive year for movies, and that general factoid, coupled with my general laziness, has resulted in the lack of full reviews for any of this past year's movies. However, that's not to say there hasn't been cinema of note, and indeed some movies blew me right away this year, either taking me by surprise or living up to expectations of excellence. You all know and probably have seen Toy Story 3 and The Social Network, two of my more obvious faves from this year. You may not be as aware of Winter's Bone, a vivid slice of Americana and a genuinely gritty and engaging family saga; or A Prophet, from way earlier this year, a resonant, satisfying prison story of survival and self-definition; or Mother, a Korean hybrid of luscious Hitchcockian horror and delightfully twisted dysfunctional family drama that is also beautifully shot and hauntingly acted. You should really get on that.

There is also obviously a lot of stuff I wanted to like quite a bit that didn't really measure up, like Robin Hood, Iron Man 2 (although I still liked that one more than most). And stuff that was impressive but missed the greatness boat for one reason or another, like True Grit or The Fighter or The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo trilogy, which got draggier as it went along. And there was stuff that surprised me with its goodness, like the remake Let Me In or Megamind or Despicable Me.

I have a few more movies to see before I can really start in on my post of the best movies of last year, namely Black Swan, The King's Speech, Another Year, Carlos, Inside Job, and Exit Through the Gift Shop... particularly those first two. But I figured you'd appreciate catching up in the mean time. Until next post!

Feminism & movies...

Worth a look.

The Bechdel Test for the presence of women in movies is a simple test that, perhaps not surprisingly, a lot of movies fail. Check out the link for a quick rundown of what the test is, how many movies fail it, and to generally ponder the depressing lack of female presence in cinema in general.

My take: This is funny but sad, and the test is simple and to-the-point. It also makes you realize how many movies that are supposedly geared toward women really miss the point: see most rom-coms. Also notable is the dearth of big-name female directors in movies, although Kathryn Bigelow's well-deserved Oscar win for Hurt Locker helped in a facile way. Seriously, think about it. I could probably name the female directors I could think offhand of on one hand, maybe two if I really struggle. Anyway, 'tis some food for thought.

Act of God (Jennifer Baichwal, 2009)

If you have an interest in any of the following things -- the hypnotic prose of writer Paul Auster (the genius behind City of Glass and more recently Invisible), the invigorating experimental music of Fred Frith, the man-meets-nature style of cinema expressed by Koyaanisqatsi or Jennifer Baichwal's stirring previous documentary Manufactured Landscapes, the awesome power of nature, and, above all, the dazzling random phenomenon of lightning -- then I have no hesitation in recommending the cool, mostly astonishing documentary Act of God. The film revolves around a series of interviews with people who have survived lightning strikes, or have otherwise been involved in shocking encounters with this natural event. The interviews are bolstered by wonderful footage of swirling lightning storms and sublime nature, as well as being underscored by Frith's often eerie, moody music.

Coolness in human form.

While not all the interviews are completely gripping -- the movie takes a while to get up to speed -- more than enough of them are, not the least of which are that of a Mexican woman and the tragic fate of her children on a hill during a religious ceremony, as well as a Frenchman who has dedicated his life to operating a museum dedicated to lightning photography. Auster's own concluding monologue is absolutely astonishing -- up there with some of his best writing; I almost wish I could get a copy of it written down -- as he recounts with calm naturalism and mounting tension the fate of him and his friends on a nature excursion during summer camp. Just like a good storm, Act of God ends with one grand crescendo of a climax.

I definitely have a special interest in this movie, given my fascination with nature photography and cinematography and the work of Paul Auster. But even if you don't share my particular inclination towards these things, Act of God gives you something profound over which to ponder while simultaneously thrilling the eye and the ear. A-

Also, please check out Invisible and, especially, City of Glass for some of the most exhilarating writing and storytelling in modern times. But... I suppose that's a whole different post. I also want to check out more of Frith's music now.

Summer reading

So here's what I've been occupying my mind with lately, book-wise.

Ulysses. Oh, Ulysses. A foolhardy endeavour indeed, but, I felt, a necessary one given my interest in all things Beckett. Joyce was a mentor, a friend, and something of an inspiration for Beckett, and thus, he must be read. Well, by me, anyway.

For the uninitiated, Ulysses is 950 "thrilling" pages of stream of consciousness Irish weirdness meant to combine the basic storyline of Homer's Odyssey with the various intertwining lives of various characters over the course of one day in Dublin. It's so dense and filled with tangents and random sentences and musings that it's damn near impossible at times to even figure out who is doing or saying or thinking this particular thing.

Of course, given Joyce's obvious talent as a writer, even these tangents prove fascinating. Parts of Ulysses are great, exquisite even. In the 150 or so pages I've managed to slog through so far, there has arisen some moods and images that are downright evocative. But so far, the great parts aren't leading to a complete and satisfying whole. In fact, I'm finding it far more unreadable than Beckett's The Unnamable, to which a certain professor referred jokingly as "The Unreadable." The thing is, I understood what Beckett was going for: his bleak sense of humour in the novel trilogy was invigorating for me, and his attempts to match the style of the writing to the psyches of his characters were largely intriguing and successful.

I can't say I understand everything in Beckett, nor can I say I understand everything (or even most things) I've encountered so far in Ulysses. But so far, the overall effect of Beckett is proving much more gripping than that of Ulysses. Of course, I'm massively jumping the gun with this post, and I might (I hope) feel differently by the end of the book... whenever I finally finish it. Joyce is a master and worth reading, but fun, enjoyment, or emotional/intellectual stimulation are not necessarily guaranteed here.

I also picked up Falling Man from Don DeLillo the other day. Considering how wackily awesome I found his White Noise, and how intrigued I was by the premise of this guy taking on 9/11, it was a pretty irresistible find. The shifting points of view and the focal point (although in a looser sense here) on a particular (and more horrifying) day is actually reminding me of Ulysses, but it's certainly easier to read, and at least slightly less confusing (though still fairly perplexing at points). The novel basically jumps around from differing accounts of the World Trade Centre tragedy of different people who were involved in it that terrible day in different ways. Cool... and I look forward to finishing it.

I am also about 30 pages into the 1200+ page phone book that is Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged. Yes, I actually bought it -- one of the most loved/respected/reviled/mentioned/mocked/shunned books in modern history. Given my love of Rush and the band's frequently espoused lyrical debt to this particular writer, I had to at least give it a try... although given what I've read of Rand's politics and philosophy, I've been reluctant. So far... the writing is a bit thick and overly elaborate, and the refrain of "Who is John Galt?" is already becoming a bit pretentious. But I can't say I hate it yet, either. The idea of a man in a high-up position just randomly quitting his post for seemingly no reason has me intrigued to find out more about this dude, and the train waiting helplessly before a red light (that seemingly will never change) in the middle of nowhere has echoes of existentialism and even Waiting for Godot, which I always tend to fall for hook, line, and sinker. Hopefully, Rand decides to take these images and ideas in interesting directions. Or, at least, crash and burn in an amusing way.

Happy reading!

Cellar door

The cellar door
Is the door to my childhood
Or, to a golden moment in history
Either personal or collective
That may or may not have ever been real
But certainly was vivid

What is now dark, hidden, secret, vague, and faintly musty-smelling
Was cool, breezy, inviting, alluring, refreshing, peaceful, earthy

The door to the cellar
Is locked now
Watched over by the combined forces of memory &
The passage of time and space
Formidable guardians indeed

---
Poem dreamed up while on a walk and based on my overheard notion of "cellar door" as the most beautiful word combination in English. I kind of agree, but there are many contenders. More on "cellar door" and its awesome phonoaesthetic powers here.