Network

Best.Movie.Ever.

Thats why nobody remembers it. You'll not see it featured on any premier cable channel. Nobody will reminisce about Chayefsky's devastating screenplay or Finch's self-incriminating powerhouse performance, except to maybe compare it with Ledger's Joker for the haunting madness of their roles that landed them posthumous Oscars. Its a forgotten gem, truth fortified in stone and dropped into the lake of celluloid obscurity. Perhaps its just as well, for its characters often threaten an unwelcome dislocation into real life. In the iconic scene, where Finch's Beale goes mad as a hatter on live television, you see him walk slowly and deliberately off the stage, like a stalking Velociraptor, sending his crew scurrying for cover. The entire film moves that way, sometimes walking right into your living room, trying to shake you out of your stupor.

I am afraid of this movie. I am afraid to review it, ink my thoughts on it. I am afraid i might find the language of television emerge through the heart of what i have to say. I am afraid i cannot think about it, or anything else for that matter, without donning the mask of some on-screen character first. I am afraid we are all mad. Not as hell. Simply mad. Lost and hypnotized. Having the script of our lives read out to us. Terrified by our own thoughts, always seeking validation from the alternative reality only a remote click away. I am afraid Mr. Beale, were he alive, would address me thus:

"We deal in *illusions*, man! None of it is true! But you people sit there, day after day, night after night, all ages, colors, creeds... We're all you know. You're beginning to believe the illusions we're spinning here. You're beginning to think that the tube is reality, and that your own lives are unreal. You do whatever the tube tells you! You dress like the tube, you eat like the tube, you raise your children like the tube, you even *think* like the tube! This is mass madness, you maniacs! In God's name, you people are the real thing! *WE* are the illusion!"

~ Howard Beale, the mad prophet denouncing the hyporcrisies of our time.

Dear Zachary

'Is there anything you would like to say to Zachary?'

How do i review this?

Let me start by saying that this is not a movie. Its not even a documentary. Its a memoir and a letter. Its an attempt to capture the fading memories of a dead friend, a beloved son, a respected colleague, a flesh and blood human being whose violent death has created an emotional vacuum that should normally have been filled with rushing anger and bitterness, even a lasting hatred.

What you see instead is something incredible. You see a clear line being drawn in the sand; between good and evil in our world. You see circumstances shatter and shake all beams of reality, and then you see different people fill in those vacuums differently. While some expand into luminous beacons of humanity, others grow hollower by the day, until they are consumed by the echoes of their own vacant words.

I will fail miserably to review this, so i will not even try anymore. One can review a film, because it is reviewing the structure and execution of a perspective. One cannot review life, for it will always astonish you with its vastness, with the richness and depth of its color, and the black abyss of its madness. I wish there was a tangible takeaway from this viewing. A deeper understanding of why anything happens at all. But in the end, there's only what you have experienced. There's only what you have seen.

Go watch it. Thats all i can say.

Netflix Movie of the Week: 12/3/10

Crimes and Misdemeanors by Woody Allen

Only half of 'Crimes and Misdemeanors' plays out the way it sounds or vaguely promises. You walk into it hoping for scoundrels and damsels. You expect capers and glib social innuendos. Perhaps even a clever bank heist, Woody Allen style, dripping with wry humor and scheming cons.

Well, no, this is not one of those movies.

CnM in fact is an uneasy alliance between two parallel story arcs, that meet only once, not as a plot device, but as an exclamation point of resounding volume. Its a disturbing confluence of criminal tragedy and romantic comedy. The stressful drama unfolds in the life of a successful opthamologist (Martin Landau) whose mistress of the past few years (Anjelica Huston) has had enough of sitting on the sidelines. She does not want to share Landau anymore, and is willing to go to any extreme to achieve that goal. The oddly endearing comic relief is provided by Allen himself, a middle aged documentary maker who yearns for the affection of a kindred spirit and fellow artist (Mia Farrow), while getting increasingly distant from his uninterested and disappointed wife.

The genius of Woody Allen's work is in portraying the every day life with such precision that the pathos of it's characters seeps into you like water in sand. As a conflicted Landau struggles to deal with the increasingly neurotic and insecure Huston, you often find yourself taking his place and dreading it. As he slowly unravels in the face of the constant threat that could utterly destroy his life, his family, his career, you find yourself admonishing him under your breath for his indiscretions and infidelity, at the same time thanking the Universe for not placing you in his cursed shoes.

While we watch Landau's fall from grace with increasing discomfort, Allen's own dilemmas leave you wishing for a happy ending for the despondent filmmaker. Not only does his wife have no love or respect for his non-commercial work, he finds himself constantly pit against his arch-nemesis, the wildly successful brother-in-law (the great Alan Alda). Allen's Cliff sticks to his principles and integrity inspite of being constantly upended in love and glory by the maverick Alda. You root for him till the very end, even as he sits confused and defeated, unable to find a single ray of light to brighten his derailed life. Of course, how Landau's guilt ridden opthamologist fits into this end is what Woody Allen and the film is all about. As expected, Allen leaves you with more questions than answers, with a faint hope that the truth lies somewhere between the crimes and misdemeanors of human existence. Nobody portrays the irrationality of life in cinema, without being cinematic, better than Woody Allen. And here, he's at the top of his game.

The idea of an idea

If you wake from a dream only to find yourself in another dream, the idea of an elusive reality can take hold and propagate like a virus, never giving up. An idea, that most resilient of all parasites, that can give purpose to existence, or tear it to pieces.

Thats the central premise behind Nolan's latest mind-bender, 'Inception'. It becomes fairly obvious from the start that one needs to grab a thread and hold it tight lest you lose yourself in a maze of dreams. As a cinematic production, the film is layered with genres across the board. It operates on some levels as a thriller, on others as a romantic drama, and some ingenious action sequences quite rightly push it well into the action category as well. But to qualify this feature into genres would be a mistake. For while the movie revolves around a curious plot involving corporate espionage, it reveals a surprisingly Freudian affection towards the various dream states and their influence on our subconscious. One would be forgiven to call it a thrilling study on the possibilities of dreams and the movement of ideas, to and from these dreams, into the human subconscious.

DiCaprio brings an understated tenderness to his character, which is why i suspect Nolan picked him over the equally talented and oft-used Bale. Gordon-Levitt leads a strong supporting cast, along with the ever-cute Ellen Page. Cotillard deserves a special mention for the haunting presence of a captivating wraith, dwelling inside Caprio's mind as a promised escape as well as a vengeful curse. What's most impressive is how deeply the cast believes in the world of dreams they inhabit. DiCaprio's expression on Page's especially inspired physics-bending trick in Paris is priceless. Even the old hat at dreams confesses himself impressed.

This movie is a must-see, not for it's 'entertainment' value, but for the sake of an exhilarating new experience, quite like the ones we find in an alternative 'reality' buried too deep to be recalled later.

This Is It

I came out of the theater dancing. I came out wanting to celebrate life. I came out inspired. And it's only been four months.
Directed by Kenny Ortega, 'This Is It' takes an unabashed look at the last few months of Michael Jackson's turbulent life. Thankfully for us, and Michael, those last moments were spent doing what he loved to do. Entertain. The sets are vast, the creativity of his team unbridled, the magic of the man still sizzling on stage. Ortega takes us on a journey showcasing not only MJ's passion for his craft, but also his vision of what was to be his final 'curtain call'. What emerges is a man not willing to settle for the ordinary, to compromise on the mediocre. You see Michael quietly take command of this gigantic ship with an authority and calm that would put the best MBAs to shame. He is an uncompromising task-master. Asking softly for reruns 'one more time'.
Even as his perfectionist self demands the best from those around him, he is quick to remind them of why they do what they do. 'All for the love - l-o-v-e. God bless you all.' His sharp cool mind keeps tabs on everything happening around him, even as he loses himself to his art.
I often found myself wanting to reach the person behind the glasses. To understand the driver behind his life, the demons and pain he would undoubtedly carry around. And yet i couldnt hold on to that thought for more than a few moments. For the truth is Michael was real only when he was on stage. And never has that come across more clearly than it did with 'This Is It'. He comes alive in a way few people do. At 50, he seems just begining to take off. With a voice as moving as it was 30 years ago(watch him croon to 'Human Nature'), a verve that runs through his body when he dances, he simply awes the people around him, no strangers to performers themselves. An undeniable presence, that believes with every breath he takes that this is what he was meant to do. And what he was doing was important. Because he was doing it for us. Nobody else. The fans. He would not compromise. He would not be lenient, even with himself and his failing health. For that one last spectacular show. To 'show us a time we had not seen before'.
An inspiration. A man as men were meant to be. Alive.

Capitalism

I'm not entirely sure what an appropriate approach for this review is. And i think that is symptomatic of another Michael Moore production. Once you leave the theater, you're never quite sure what it is that you've witnessed, what the necessary import should be. You're only aware of having been swept away in a wave of reactionary emotion.
'Propaganda is a very strong weapon. I'm always amazed by what propaganda can do', opines an elderly statesman clearly in awe of the State's propaganda machine. Ironically, Moore doesnt seem too reticent in crunching the machine himself. He weaves in and out of political and economic terminologies without as much as a pause, never once clarifying what he means by them. Words like Capitalism, Socialism, Democracy, Corporatism are thrown around in good measure, without a clear ideological thread that binds them or a vision that differentiates between them. Moore uses dramatic footage to prove the evils of Capitalism, but one is never quite sure what he means. He presents unethical company practices and uses them to discredit the 'profit motive' principle. What one has to do with the other, Moore doesnt delve into. He uses priests and bishops to pontificate over how Jesus would not deal in derivatives. He provides endless examples of how the govt-corporate nexus is eating through the core of american value and economic system, and yet ends up promoting further govt intervention.
To Moore's credit, he has a compelling collection of heart-wrenching and anger-inducing portions that eventually work towards getting a rise out of the viewer. But it's painfully obvious that his latest work of fiction is not thought provoking, but simply provoking. He ends the unrelated string of sob stories by insisting on a people's revolution. Whether he prefers a systemic change from within, or simply an off-with-the-head French revolution template, one does not know. What is clear however, is that there is a paradigm shift taking place in this country, where a citizen can create a raw unapologetic piece of propaganda promulgating socialism and receive rave reviews and a thunderous reception from the every day american. This is a far cry from the America of McCarthy, another extremist who attacked american principles from the other side. These are dangerous times, dangerous times indeed. I wonder if historians, decades from now, will consider Moore's Capitalism the first shot across the bow.
'Democracy instead of Capitalism', he exclaims in the end. Moore does not know what he means. Neither did the people in the theater cheering him. And i am sufficiently concerned.

PS: As an aside, one would like to thank Moore for revealing a new hero. Marcy Kaptur kicks ass.

Låt den rätte komma in (Let The Right One In)

Låt den rätte komma in or { let the right one in} is less horror and more of a sweet film potraying a relationship between a normal useless boy and a vampire kid...yeah!! you heard that right a vampire..both of them are of twelve..The film is all about this coward kid who gets a timely teasing fron his classmates learns how to stand and come out of his mess when this little vampire girl comes to his town...The part of vampire played by the little girl is really worth seeing..and you may get attracted to her eyes all of a sudden...The film has an excellent plot,goes by the time,and you might not get bored.The director did make sure that the vampire tradition is shown.I mean they cant get out in sunlight,gets crazy with blood,stuffs like that..The overall film revolves around the friendship and love between this two totally different kid with shots of bloods,headless bodies and some creepy scenes..In the end we have this so called happy ending..well thats all..Last and ofcorse not the least.when i was finished with the movie i had only one word in my mind....STRANGE..
HAPPY WATCHING.