Rapid Response: Slacker

Richard Linklater’s first film “Slacker” is a cinematic experiment bucking narrative or constant characters.

SlackerposterRichard Linklater was featured in a documentary with another famous director James Benning. The two were watching “Sweet Smell of Success” together, and 10 minutes before the end, as a random man speaks with Burt Lancaster, Benning made a casual joke saying, “And then we just follow that guy, right at the climax of the movie.” Linklater, who was just finishing editing “Slacker” thought to himself, “Uh oh, I just made an entire movie like that.”

And I thought nothing happened in “Boyhood“. Richard Linklater’s “Slacker”, his first film, is strictly an experiment. It bucks narrative or protagonists altogether and simply wanders around Austin, Texas observing people, life and behavior. Since 1991, Linklater has coalesced this ploy into the most honest, thoughtful, introspective and emotional cinema he’s making today, from the walking and talking romances of “Before Midnight” to the documentary hybrid “Bernie“.

“Slacker” lacks these traditional narrative devices because Linklater wanted to make a point that audiences could relate to people not on story but on personalities, moments, events and the things we experience everyday. To say nothing happens is missing the point. A lot happens in every day; it’s just a matter of choosing which details to focus on, and what those details can tell us about ourselves.

Linklater lays out his thesis right up front, making a cameo in the backseat of a cab traveling from the train station. “Have you ever had a dream,” he asks, “where everything feels so life like, but nothing happens?” That’s “Slacker” in a nutshell, but for as lazy and uneventful as the actions of his characters, Linklater doesn’t rest on his laurels, and makes pains to think of these things profoundly. “Every thought you have is a choice you make, and they all become separate realities.”

It sounds merely like college psychology quad talk at first, but Linklater then deliberately avoids telling a story to make this point. A woman is hit by a car and is lying dead in the street. Someone says to call the police and help her, but instead of hanging around and learning to find out more about the woman or what happens next, Linklater goes out of his way to follow a passerby into his home. Later, a teenager is walking to his friend’s house, and an older man starts keeping pace with him and talking his head off about conspiracy theories. He’s allowed to ramble, and rather than confront him to stop and cause conflict, the teen arrives at his destination, the two carry on with their day, and we carry on with the next couple.

“Slacker” has an undeniable rhythm to these little observations, each one so nuanced and detailed in their momentary slices of life. Some of the people are funny and awkward (one woman offers two friends Madonna’s supposed pap smear, thinking it to be valuable), others are thoughtful and philosophical (“Perhaps human beings aren’t meant to be happy. We’re always enslaving ourselves”), and others still are ironically morbid (“The next person who passes us will be dead within a fortnight”).

Linklater spends individual moments with a mentally challenged person, a hapless loser, an annoying hipster activist, a conspiracy theory weirdo, a lazy homebody, and kids who have discovered a way to get Coke out of the vending machine for free. Like “Boyhood”, these characters feel developed enough that we could spend an entire film with any one. But this is cinema, and life is endlessly more fascinating when we take the time to look around.

Rapid Response: Fail-Safe

Sidney Lumet’s “Fail-Safe” is a forgotten masterpiece released the same year as Stanley Kubrick’s “Dr. Strangelove”.

FailSafeMy generation never grew up with the fear of imminent destruction. The media raves about the threat of ISIS to America, and we were born into an age where our country had experienced the worst attack on American soil, but the Millennials like me never knew the feeling of the Cold War and the threat of a real super power on the brink of total nuclear war and annihilation.

For that reason, Sidney Lumet’s “Fail-Safe” struck a particularly unusual chord. From 1964, it’s the stepchild to Kubrick’s “Dr. Strangelove,” with virtually the same plot but none of the irony or grim satire, and due to a lawsuit, it was kept on a shelf until after “Dr. Strangelove” left theaters and became the defining Cold War movie. The film bombed at the box office and was received as camp as a result, and now “Fail-Safe” is widely unseen, but ranks among Lumet’s masterpieces.

“Fail-Safe” is worlds more than a Kubrick clone or a Cold War movie without a sense of humor. It’s a grim and at times calmly nihilistic depiction of politics, bureaucracy and technology. Superbly acted, tensely directed and haunting to look at, it’s less a political commentary than a horror story of a system gone wrong and the world gone to hell as a result.

The plot that leads to doom is simple, but always feels more complicated as it’s happening. Before the times of long range missiles, fighter jets still needed to carry bombs to their targets. American pilots survey an area for suspicious enemy movement, and if they reach a critical Fail-Safe point, they can receive an order via a closed circuit box instructing them to attack. The system is designed to be fool-proof and account for all possibilities, but a mechanical malfunction leads one team of pilots to set on an attack course to Moscow. Believing these orders came directly from the President, the pilots are not to turn around or verify the attack via radio, fearing the possibility that America is already under attack and unable to communicate or that the President’s voice could be impersonated. “Fail-Safe” plays out as a real time race of negotiation with the Russians, strategizing and attempts to shoot down the rogue planes.

While the last plot twist seems like an implausible, fatal flaw, Lumet uses it as a strategic plot device. In such a system where safeguards are put in place, it’s the systems, the policies and the people obligated to obey them that results in tragedy. And the fears that put these systems in place are not aimless. There’s a constant fear of surveillance and technology as to what the Russians are truly capable of, and it’s these presuppositions that lead to the worst.

“Fail-Safe” heightens the pulse of the Cold War tenfold, and it conveys the many nuanced debates and worst case scenarios with eloquence and suspense. The generals in the Pentagon debate the possibility of a limited war, and how with calculated casualties victory can be achieved. While there are vocal naysayers pleading for the prevention of war at all costs, a Pentagon advisor played wickedly by Walter Matthau eggs on the logic behind an attack. He’s a calculated mastermind not unlike Dr. Strangelove who imagines that the only survivors of nuclear war will be convicts in solitary confinement and file clerks. The way Matthau plays the role, seemingly disconnected from the rest of the grounded cast, his political theory ranges from outlandish to scarily accurate.

That nuance is just one virtue Lumet brings to “Fail-Safe.” His characters across the board are not one-dimensional, over eager or seeking bloodlust. They’re flawed bureaucrats trying to find the best case scenario and discovering it to also be the worst. And Lumet carries that nuance into the war room and to the emotional stakes. In one pivotal scene, American General Bogan (Frank Overton) is revealing the location of the rogue fighter jets to a Russian general so they can be shot down and that disaster can be averted. As they talk and fear failure, Bogan is given a file with the general’s picture and one of his family. It’s a poignant, minuscule touch that makes “Fail-Safe” plain brilliant.

But the film is also striking as a film on the cusp of a revolution in Hollywood filmmaking. Lumet incorporates the same claustrophobic feel he brought to “12 Angry Men,” but the sparse settings, imposing low angles and even some repeating jump cuts make it feel daringly unlike anything in Old Hollywood. Two of the film’s best performances and most impressive cinematography come from the scenes with Henry Fonda as the President and Larry Hagman as Buck, his translator. Confined to a sparse bunker for the entirety of the film, Lumet stages incredible monochromatic close-ups that put these two at odds and have them staring down the camera with immense gravity. It’s amazing how much tension Lumet draws from such economy.

And yet “Fail-Safe’s” ending is so powerfully sickening that it makes me question its necessity. The President’s twist is something I will not reveal, but it feels outrageous and impossible even for the stakes Lumet has raised. Sure enough, the consequences are immense and the conclusion is nightmarish. I’m trying to think of another film that has ended in such a way, one with as much of a bleak, devastating outlook as this.

To symbolize such an outcome as a natural possibility and the only rational choice in this circumstance might be too great a scene to depict without any irony in the way “Dr. Strangelove” did. “Fail-Safe” ends with a disclaimer from the Army that none of the technological glitches that occurred are truly possible, and the real cold irony is that Lumet is inadvertently saying they’re wrong. Does such an end justify the horrific means it took to arrive here? “Fail-Safe” is such immensely powerful storytelling and filmmaking that in a time separated from “Dr. Strangelove,” it certainly would.

Rapid Response: Wait Until Dark

Movies are filled with heroics. Lucky losers manage to stop the bad guys, damsels in distress turn out to be badasses and the heroes of the world seem to have no limits.

“Wait Until Dark” is a movie that challenges our dependence on others for survival. It crafts suspense based on the protagonist’s limits and what she’s really capable of.

Adapted from a single room stage play by Frederick Knott, “Wait Until Dark” stars Audrey Hepburn as Suzy Hendrix, a blind woman highly dependent on her husband and her young neighbor for going about day to day activities, who is caught up in a ruse by gangsters wishing to take advantage of her disability. They suspect a doll filled with heroin has gone missing inside Suzy’s home, and they invent a story and sneak around her blindness to cajole her into turning it over. Continue reading “Rapid Response: Wait Until Dark”

Rapid Response: To Kill a Mockingbird

Some film classics are time tested for their greatness, if not more beloved and significant now than upon their release; others are great by association.

The film adaptation of Harper Lee’s “To Kill a Mockingbird” may just fall into the latter category, the book that everyone read in high school, followed immediately by the movie everyone saw in high school. Maybe it gets some holiday TV time, and the book is so indisputably a classic that it’s hard to see the movie as anything else.

It’s possible then that Robert Mulligan’s film gets a few passes it perhaps doesn’t deserve. The average, casual movie watcher can lump “To Kill a Mockingbird” in on their lists of black and white movies they’ve actually seen along with “It’s a Wonderful Life” and the first part of “The Wizard of Oz”. It was nominated for Best Picture in 1962, losing to a real classic, “Lawrence of Arabia”. And Gregory Peck won the Oscar for Best Actor, years later also taking the American Film Institute’s title for the greatest American movie hero.

But does it actually do anything especially great? An easy analysis might say no. This is Old Hollywood through and through, full of toothless, folksy charm and Hays Code-friendly gestures of racism and violence. “To Kill a Mockingbird” only achieves the social and racial poignancy by riding the coattails of its richer source material, and even then it’s very much rooted to its times.

To play along the racial language, the touches of greatness in “To Kill a Mockingbird” are more than skin deep. Continue reading “Rapid Response: To Kill a Mockingbird”

Rapid Response: Zelig

“Zelig” is Woody Allen’s genius mockumentary set in the 1920s.

What really works about Woody Allen’s “Zelig” and makes it brilliant is that no matter how outlandish, ludicrous and fantastical Leonard Zelig’s scandal or condition gets, you still kind of buy it. Allen’s got Susan Sontag and Saul Bellow giving plausible sounding and descriptive diagnoses of Zelig’s mental state, all of it following a sense of empathy and dramatic arc, and it’s all total nonsense.

“Zelig” is Woody Allen’s mockumentary, although to call it that conjures up ideas of “This is Spinal Tap” and “Best In Show” in which the subject being mocked is someone other than the director himself. “Zelig” is more accurately a real documentary on a fake person, and not just that, but a proto-Woody Allen, a version of himself we see in many of his films. It uses Leonard Zelig’s condition as a human chameleon to get inside the mind of a person always begging to fit in and be liked, even going as far as to say there’s really not much wrong with that. Changing our personality and even our appearance is something just about anyone does, and the movie acknowledges that this could be anything from lying about having read “Moby Dick” to pretending you’re an experienced psychologist so you can go to bed with your doctor. Continue reading “Rapid Response: Zelig”

Rapid Response: The Boondock Saints

“The Boondock Saints” is one of the most polarizing cult films of all time, but does it work on its own terms?

 

Many cult films are called such because they’re under-appreciated gems with a fervent fan base. The critics might even like it somewhat, but really they just don’t understand. Most cult films however have at least some critic who will go to bat for it as something of a masterpiece.

“The Boondock Saints” is the rare example in which the film and its director are straight reviled by everyone who isn’t in the club. It’s a trash vigilante movie of utter style over substance, so go the naysayers, and one of the worst examples to grow out of the Quentin Tarantino copycats.

And yet here I am perched in the middle, an admittedly strange place to be with a film so polarizing as this. Everything bad about the film is also a distinctive characteristic. It’s ugly, excessive violence through and through, but it’s staged with elegance and operatic grace. It’s grossly overstated and sweeping in its tone but approaches its bigness unironically and fully to the point that it earns it. It’s full of trashy machismo attitudes and vigilante sensibilities, and yet the spiritual underpinnings and noble, Robin Hood heroes on a mission from God are a notable contrast from what’s typically associated with the vigilante and B-movie genre. Continue reading “Rapid Response: The Boondock Saints”

Rapid Response: Paisan

Roberto Rossellini’s second film in his War Trilogy truly knows what it is to be an Italian and to be affected by the war.

“You simply don’t speak Italian in a hurry,” says an American soldier in the first of six stories of “Paisan.” It’s a funny line within my fast talking Italian family, but “Paisan” is Roberto Rossellini’s second film in his war trilogy and portrait of Italian life during World War II, and it achieves its “neorealistic” slice of life by taking its time across Italian culture and lifestyles.

Like “Rome, Open City” before it, this film is neorealistic because of its pessimistic tone and grave images of poverty and troubled living during wartime. Rossellini may already be going against the tendencies of his first film to be real through non-actors, on-location filming and straight forward stories, because “Paisan” is surprisingly Hollywood. It’s complete with American actors, swelling scores and even a few action heavy scenarios. And yet each ends anti-climatically if not downright sad.

In one story, the American MP befriending a poor, parentless Italian boy turns away when he witnesses just how bad the boy’s conditions are. In another, two heros will spend their entire time negotiating past blockades and barriers only to end up dead just short of the finish line. And in a third, a soldier will forever lose the love of his life when he fails to recognize her, forced into prostitution after the war has taken everything.

Amid it all though is a sense of fortitude, excitement and determination. We see courtesy in homeowners opening themselves to danger at the hands of the Germans, we see American soldiers admiring the architecture of buildings older than their country, and we see spirituality that helps monks get through the horrors and misfortune of war. There’s courtesy, hospitality and a pervasive sense of culture coursing through “Paisan’s” veins, and that’s what makes it such a powerful statement.

Not all war films take up the helm this easily. When compared to American films, there’s a difference between jingoism and culture, and “Paisan” knows what it is to call Italy home, for better or worse.

 

Rapid Response: Bottle Rocket

Wes Anderson’s first feature signals a director already in full control of his style.

Any discussion of a legendary director’s first feature is a study in scrutiny and similarity. Rarely is the film taken on its own but as a discussion of how the director’s themes and signature style have evolved over time. Did he contain that spark early in his career, and what here can provide context for what comes later?

Wes Anderson has very recently been anointed to legendary status, complete with indie royalty credibility, a Best Picture nomination, box office gold, an ability to work with any actor he damn well pleases and a cinephile approved book dedicated to his life’s work. All those early skeptics of Anderson saw “Fantastic Mr. Fox,” “Moonrise Kingdom” and now “The Grand Budapest Hotel” and have come out of the woodwork to revisit and heap praise on what they might’ve missed earlier.

Whether or not this is a good way to evaluate a film is up for grabs, but “Bottle Rocket” probably gets a pass today because it is a Wes Anderson debut. As Matt Zoller Seitz writes in his essay on “Bottle Rocket” in his coffee table tome “The Wes Anderson Collection,” “Anderson didn’t make references; he had influences. And there were already signs that he had a pretty good idea who he was as a director and was comfortable in his own skin.” We see it in his first 90 degree whip pan, the “eye of God” shots, as Seitz puts it, or the affinity for color, music and whimsy. Some of the moments are so oddly beautiful and so definitely Anderson-y that you might call it brilliant, whereas someone seeing it fresh in 1996 could easily call it uneven. Continue reading “Rapid Response: Bottle Rocket”

A Spoiler-filled discussion of Oblivion

“Oblivion” feels criminally underdeveloped with some serious plot holes. Here’s a ranting exploration of all of them.

The Tom Cruise sci-fi “Oblivion” came out almost a year ago now, but somehow it came up on our DVR viewing this past weekend. It’s a post-apocalyptic action movie about two scientists responsible for securing Earth’s surface and repairing drones and resource harvesting equipment after a war between the humans and aliens left the planet inhospitable. The humans won the war, as Cruise helpfully reminds us a number of times. His existence and his mission is called into question when he discovers humans in hypersleep being attacked by the drones he felt were intended to protect them.

It’s a gorgeous film, with just as strong of an aesthetic appeal as Joseph Kosinski’s first film “Tron: Legacy,” and yet it never resembles that film at all. It’s a distinctly modern vision of the future that’s also of its own creation, amplified by the sharp costuming and M83 score.

And yet I see no more point in writing an actual review than you do in reading one at this point. But while this film is not uninteresting on its own, it becomes problematically uninteresting by relying on a number of sci-fi cliches, plot lapses and reliance on visuals rather than substance.

So here are some spoiler-riffic thoughts on “Oblivion.” Spoilers ahead…obviously. Continue reading “A Spoiler-filled discussion of Oblivion”

Rapid Response: The Battle of Algiers

The influential doc-realism film “The Battle of Algiers” actually feels more like an ancestor of New Hollywood.

The Battle of Algiers

Part way through “The Battle of Algiers” is a sequence in which Algerian locals perform quick, targeted assassinations on French officers throughout the region. One boy nonchalantly follows behind a policeman who suspects he’s up to no good. It’s a coincidence, the boy assures him, but the officer frisks him anyway. Satisfied to find nothing, he gets into a car, and the boy fishes a gun out of a nearby trash can and shoots him dead.

Resistance comes in many forms in “The Battle of Algiers,” and the interconnected methodology to each killing in this sequence seems like a precursor of the baptism montage at the end of “The Godfather.” Much has been made about Gillo Pontecorvo’s documentarian roots and this film’s modeling off news reels and ’60s doc realism, but that thread to New Hollywood makes it seem so much more modern.

Pontecorvo is constantly playing with intense close-ups, quick camera darts, rapid zooms and of course a stapled together editing style in which weeks pass by in a smash cut or the tides of war turn on a dime. To call it documentary realistic is accurate in the sense that it resembles news reels more than Old Hollywood, but the documentarians and found footage makers of today don’t credit as much to Pontecorvo’s political masterpiece. We see this film’s breadcrumbs on modern action movies and social cause movies all the way up to “Argo.” Continue reading “Rapid Response: The Battle of Algiers”