Secondly: Now the Oscars are over and done, I still don't think I could conjure one. See, I'm still a little bitter.
Not in a major way, because NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN is a perfectly fine film and as deserving a winner as any. It's dark with an underlying sadness, it's beautifully made in all areas from cinematography to editing to sound, finely crafted by master filmmakers, and has an enigmatic ending which has gotten people talking. And no-one would really begrudge the Coen Brothers -- two of the finest 10 (or less) filmmakers to emerge from America since the 1970s -- a long-overdue Academy Award.
But the film just didn't hit me the way I wanted it to, the way it had connected with so many other people. I had my own issues with it: Something in the last act ate at me, and it wasn't anything that's been mentioned in the endless discourses about this film (none I've read anyway), and I can't work out why it hasn't. Everyone's so damned obsessed with why we didn't see a certain confrontation -- which, to me, was irrelevant, just like it was to the Coens -- when all I could ask was why another certain confrontation just didn't happen. Because I felt that one was so, so much more relevant. The world we knew colliding with the world that is. It builds up all this tension and then... poof! One second, two characters are there, and the next, one isn't, and there's no explanation or apparent reasoning why. A very good friend of mine has posited a massively intriguing and awfully metaphysical reason for this scene, but I haven't heard similar sentiments brought up anywhere else, which makes me think it may be one very brilliant man's interpretation and not necessarily the filmmakers' intention. Or maybe it was, and my learned friend is the only one who can see it; the proverbial one-eyed king, if you will.
The reason I'm a little bitter at Oscar this year is because I saw a pair of flicks in the weeks leading up to the ceremony, that were as great as any films released this decade. Genuine, 100%, no excuses, perfectly formed, pound-for-pound heavyweight champions.
And they were both nominated for Best Picture.
Yet, when the dust settled, they each came out with just one major award... and an indent to the forehead courtesy of Anton Chigurh.
(* To be fair, the second of the two also won a big technical Oscar but, for the purpose of this article, when I say "major awards" I mean Picture, Director, Acting and Writing awards, as opposed to Technical and Musical. If this sounds disrespectful, it's not, it's mainly a media-driven distinction. Carry on.)
Firstly...
JUNO just blew my head clean off, in a way I never could have anticipated.
Granted, my expectations were not high. I'd braced for a too-cool-for-school, this-year's-LITTLE-MISS-SUNSHINE quirkfest... and got what might just be the most perfectly well-rounded film I've seen since who knows when. The performances were note-perfect. Diablo Cody's script set the scene, introduced its characters, then their dilemmas and worked through them in a way that was natural, organic, graceful -- and rare. Not for a second did this picture feel false. The direction was beautifully measured, Jason Reitman made the right visual choices, crafted the right mood and paced the thing perfectly. When it was funny, it was laugh-out-loud hilarious. When it was sad, it made me cry like a small child, like I haven't done at a new movie in years. (It took me about three or four minutes to stop. I'm serious. As a card-carrying adult male, I'm not necessarily proud of this becoming public knowledge, but caved in to illustrate the absolute spell this story had me in.)
It's quotable, relatable and repeat-watchable. What really amazed me was, unlike most movies these days, it wasn't too anything. It wasn't too quirky, too sentimental, too smart, too fractured, too long, too short, too cold, too emotional, too cerebral, too anything. It was just right. And that, if you'll check your dictionaries and thesauruses (thesaurii?), is just another way of saying Perfect.
Then...
There was THERE WILL BE BLOOD. Which couldn't be any more different, but equally effective.
An epic as harsh, remote and tough as the turn-of-the-century Californian landscape it depicts, this is beautiful, powerful cinema, a towering work representing Paul Thomas Anderson -- in my opinion, the best American filmmaker under 40 -- approaching the peak of his powers.
Much has been gushed about Daniel Day-Lewis's supercharged, thoroughly deserving Oscar-winning performance as misanthropic oilman Daniel Plainview, or the amazing twelve-minute dialogue-free opening... but much less has been said about Paul Dano's searing turn as the fiery, manipulative preacher Eli Sunday, or the quietly beautiful work from Dillon Freasier (who had never acted professionally before this film!) as Day-Lewis' son H.W., or Jonny Greenwood's pounding, driving, haunting score, or the sheer mania which drives this flick -- from the characters' fervour for power/riches/influence/control/you name it to PTA's own love for cinema -- and the writer/director's wicked sense of humour which pops its head up, ever so subtly, every once in a while, particularly in the film's stunning final scene, capped by one of the greatest closing lines in cinema history. Not to mention, one scene in particular flat-out broke my heart. In two.
Like all the best epics, Anderson's film works equally well at the physical and emotional ends of the scale: it's as attractive a film as you will ever see, but not in an artificial, glossy way, instead as a force of pure cinema, with a full appreciation for the sublime abilities of the movie camera and the dangerous beauty of the landscape. What's more, Plainview's relationships with everyone around him, particularly his son, are brought into sad, bruised, chilling life with Anderson's beautiful penchant for observation and human behaviour. Damn, this is a great picture.
Why did we have to wait till 2008 to see the best films of 2007? These pictures would've owned my 2007 Top 10 List. What's more, there's been Joe Wright's excellent, surprisingly sly ATONEMENT and Todd Haynes' inspired, innovative, if overly cerebral, Bob Dylan biopic I'M NOT THERE... With all that in mind, 2008's list has gotten off to a flier... and a much better start than last year, I might add! (There ya go... some of that positivity I keep threatening you with!)
Why is it that Oscar Season continues to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat of so many movie years? And in what other year could I possibly imagine being ever-so-slightly aggrieved that the Coen Brothers swept the awards?!? (Okay, what I REAAALLLY wanted, was for the Coens to win Best Director and THERE WILL BE BLOOD Best Pic. Just to make it abundantly clear I'm not being anti-Coen. Which would be akin to being anti-Film Buff, I would think.) Just after I had written off 2007, two of the best gems in years, both 2007 holdovers, come my way...
Proving yet again, as dark as it may seem, there is always hope. Like Axl says, all we need is a little patience...
TSIK
10 comments:
Is the friend with the metaphysical theory me? I did have a theory, but I wasn't sure if you meant me or not. It was your use of the adjective "brilliant" that piqued my suspicions.
One of the problems I have with the No Country criticisms -- and this isn't something you've done, but it's still relevant -- is that a lot of people have said "We didn't see (blank) die!" as if the Coens forgot to film that scene and only realised when some n00b pwned them on AICN. Also, who the fuck is (blank)? I'm sick of people misspelling every single letter in someone's name.
Anyway, I have a lot of No Country love, but for me the Best Picture of that list was There Will Be Blood. That's where my vote would have gone. But I'm not too upset. (It should have got production design, and Assassination of Jesse James should have got cinematography, but you've heard these rants from me before.)
In conclusion, allow me to stop.
Just when I thought I would have no intellectual stimulus tonight, I get to think about films!!
To your first issue: although I haven't heard your friends argument, and knowing the kind of friends you have I'm sure it explains everything with incomprehensible simplicity, I think the answer actually lies in the source material.
From what I've read the movie was filmed as close to the original book as can be achieved, and by all accounts Cormac McCarthy is a special kind of genius. I'm in the process of stealing the novel from a friend and once it's read I might know more but I really doubt I will because that's the kind of story it is. The more I think about it the more it seems more of an abstract philosophy than an exercise in storytelling, and the more I want to see it again to figure out what it's intention was. But I don't think I can.
As to the other two Best Picture nominees, my thinking runs thus.
There Will Be Blood, which I'm still reeling from seeing on Saturday, is an incredible film. The characters are huge and complex, performed brilliantly, and the finale leaves a massive hole where your stomach has been ripped from you and shoved firmly into a milkshake. And while I agree that Dano has shown us a new level in the up-and-coming Hollywood leagues and Freasier has shown himself as an absolute prodigy for natural film performance, the whole saga rests solely on Daniel Plainview.
He is in the first and last frames of the film. He is in 98 percent of the shots. His energy and sadism and incorruptible greed drags, drives, kicks and ignites every other character into the action. He is the impetus for all, a god in his own mind and his own right. Name for me one other actor, living or dead, that could have brought to the role one tenth of the perfection of Day-Lewis.
In my thoughts if a story relies that heavily on a single person then is the actor, not the film, that should be applauded. In other words, despite the strength of the supporting ensemble, the film is only that great because of the actor leading it, and that is not a best film. Please fight me on this.
As to Juno, which I loved every bit as much as you, I agree in entirety. Lee gave me a list four movies to see - the three mentioned here as well as The Darjeeling Limited - which he called 'perfection filmonified', and he was not wrong. They all shine for their different merits, and they all deserve recognition as such, but only one can be the best picture of the year and at the Oscars the film is voted for by a select more-than-a-few that we know as 'The Academy'.
I don't know what went through their heads when they voted, but I like films that are open ended, that leave me thinking, that make me question things - I firmly believe the purpose of film is to hold a mirror and make us stare into the fucker. Sometimes it's on an angle, or covered in blood, but you have to look.
While Juno is beautiful and funny and clever and a lovely play of moral conflict that we should all strive to be above, it finishes. It is entirely understandable, it makes you empathise with and cry for the characters, and it ends in a way that makes you think everything is a little bit more ok in the world.
As for There Will Be Blood, in a different way it has an end. It concludes the only two conflicted relationships in the film in incredible style and runs into the side of a black screen so fast that you fly full force into the directors name and only regain consciousness in time to read that Barry Bruce played Oil Worker #3.
I would vote in this situation for the movie that I didn't comprehend, that frustrated me with ambiguity and chilling non compliance, that did a triple somersault off an Escher painting and still made me hungry for more of it.
I hope that made sense.
And I agree with the Jesse James for cinematography vote, that one annoyed me.
For all the money I lost on the Oscars, you're exactly right - any Oscars where the Coens kick ass has gotta be a good one (in the long run).
Even if it wasn't their best, or best of the year, we should have their problems.
And hurry up and get to your post about pta being far, far, far superior to qt.
I've recently uncovered some information that makes me dislike qt even more, and I want to make believe that I'm the first to discover it.
Lee: Yes, you were the friend I was referring to. Feel free to use the "Brilliant" as a pull quote wherever you like.
Shannon: PTA v QT and state of the directorial union blog to follow... I think I want to watch all of Quentin's films again beforehand, just to get this straight in my head. But, yes, for all intents and purposes, PTA is shading him as my main man among post-70s filmmakers. (Scorsese will ALWAYS be #1, it's now an honorary position, a perch from which the short, peppy, uber-eyebrowed one will never be knocked.)
Dave: Nice to see you back here and ready for another throw-down! Although my custom is to let the commentators fight amongst themselves and add the odd comment to put cat amongst pigeons... I must absolutely refute you here...
"In my thoughts if a story relies that heavily on a single person then is the actor, not the film, that should be applauded. In other words, despite the strength of the supporting ensemble, the film is only that great because of the actor leading it, and that is not a best film. Please fight me on this."
So, nobody brought that performance out? DDL just showed up on the day, was handed a script and did it off the top of his head? Nobody helped Daniel with his dramatic choices, whether he was getting closer or further from the intention of the overall story? Nobody carefully edited DDL's performance in the editing room, cutting out takes which may have involved flagrant overacting? Nobody asked DDL to go to the lengths this film asks of him, and gave him the faith he wouldn't be let down, made a fool of or wasting his considerable powers?
I would argue that the performance would not have been as great if it were not directed by Paul Thomas Anderson, who is a flat-out cinematic genius. Not every director can elicit a performance like that, even from Daniel Day Lewis. As amazing as he can be, one reason he makes so few films is -- as well as being able to connect with the material -- he needs someone he can trust, to put himself in their hands. And PTA gave him both the trust and the vehicle... and don't let the "Best Adapted Screenplay" Oscar fool you, that script was 98% PT. The book painted a picture of a time and place and provided some basic events, and the rest was purely PT's invention... not least of which, one Daniel Plainview. The collaboration between DDL & PTA to create such a powerful character to anchor such a brilliant story is a testament to the talents of both... and the film. All three justified their nominations, and all three should've won. (Okay, the Coens were allowed to beat PTA for director, but you know what I mean. Anderson's time is still to come.)
I'm sure Lee or someone else could further expand upon these points, but I have to rush off somewhere, so for now...
I'm finished!
TSIK
Point well made and taken, I won't dispute it's always a collaborative effort and I've always been uncertain how people can make a distinction between what is attributed solely to the director or actor, or what is a product of scripting or editing, or even some emotive production design, but aside from that...
I stand by my final point of what distinguishes a best film from it's comrade nominees.
It may also be that because of what I'm being taught I see a strong ensemble as a more whole film. I wouldn't call a one man show (or even a two hander) the best theatre piece I've seen in a year because the focus is almost entirely on the actor. Even a brilliant collaboration between actor and director cannot offer something like a group of actors sharing ideas and playing off each other. It's only my opinion, probably just because of my tastes, but I what I saw in NCFOM was a huge variety of interesting and conflicted relationships, whereas TWBB showed how one man interacted with everyone else and not everyone else interacting with each other.
I haven't seen much else of PTA so I can't comment on his work as a whole, but I'll accept his brilliance at your word and on the evidence of what I've seen. Still I would argue the creation of Plainview, initially taken from his writing and the discussion between PTA and DDL, would have been mostly by the work of Day-Lewis. We are talking after all about an actor renowned for his unbelievable dedication to his work in every film he's been in, and I believe that brings more to the story than any other single thing.
I still think no other actor could have played that role with the brilliance he did. And it's fair to say that no other director would have made the film PTA did. But I think under another director of the same caliber, Day-Lewis would still have given the Oscar winning performance.
It's like PTA is a painter, the screen is the canvas and Day-Lewis the palatte. There are limits to what even the greatest master painters could do with just red, green and blue, but when you are given unlimited colours you can paint so much more. Apologies for a wanky analogy, but it's true.
Interesting points Mr Lamb.
I'm intrigued.
So, let's get mathematical, as it seems like we're dancing around the concept anyway.
IN THEORY, should a film like Oceans's Eleven be twelve times better than TWBB? Or six times better than Sleuth?
Maybe "better" is the wrong word.
More potential to be better?
You mention "best film".
Does that mean "Best Picture, Academy Award winning" or "Best film in general"?
We could really write a formula.
film = f
number of actors = n
film's success = S
How about:
(f)n = S
That's supposed to be f to the power of n, but I can't do small root numbers.
Is that accurate?
David X Cohen would be proud.
Dave,
I agree with almost all of what you said, particularly the painter analogy. And when you say "under another director of the same caliber", you're talking about only10 or so people who have PTA's ability (Your homework, Mr Lamb: go to your local DVD store and hire HARD EIGHT, BOOGIE NIGHTS, MAGNOLIA and PUNCH-DRUNK LOVE immediately. You'll thank me later). But you can't compare it to theatre. Theatre is so much more an actor's medium, whereas film so many more factors have to work, to click. I can totally understand the one-man-show vs ensemble theory working for the theatre, but for film, it's almost irrelevant. If you were talking about a fillm like, say, THE PARTY, where a rampant Peter Sellers IS the show and everything else around him is actually quite mediocre, then I'd agree. But -- and I think you'll agree -- THERE WILL BE BLOOD is not, nor will ever be, THE PARTY.
I have to vehemently disagree with your ensemble makes a better film than one-or-two-person-show theory. And this is from a man who adores ensembles and multi-strand stories. For a man who loves THE GODFATHER trilogy, PULP FICTION and GOODFELLAS, this is a hard thing to admit, but I think saying one is inevitably better than the other is a gross generalisation. What about THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS? RAGING BULL? TAXI DRIVER? LOST IN TRANSLATION? SE7EN? FIGHT CLUB? All truly great one-or-two-handers, and I could go on, and on, and on. But here is my very best defence:
GANGS OF NEW YORK.
Under the eye of a master filmmaker, DDL delivers an blistering, awesome, towering, Oscar-worthy performance which dominated the film... but his character didn't. Because he had to share the screen with an ensemble, some of which were terrific (Neeson, Reilly, Gleeson), some of which were average (DiCaprio, Diaz). Now, I'm not going to rag on GANGS, because I think it's a truly beautiful flawed epic and I admire its reach, but I think you'll agree that THERE WILL BE BLOOD put it in the shade. By some margin.
GANGS lacked BLOOD's focus. Ultimately, The story got too big and unwieldy and the ensemble detracted from Bill The Butcher's story. We spent way too much time with a callow protagonist we didn't really give a toss about. If the film were all about Bill and his journey within that world, it may have been an even better picture.
In this case, all the same tools were on hand -- Master Filmmaker (IMHO, only the greatest of the last half-century), Daniel Day-Lewis, epic historical tale -- but without the unified vision, focus and tight rein (not to mention eye for human behaviour, black humour, etc) that Paul Thomas Anderson brought to the project (and one of his choices was to keep it as small as possible -- not that you'd ever notice -- thus avoiding the inevitable ballooning which afflicted GANGS), it doesn't quite attain the greatness it so obviously strives for.
Which is why THERE WILL BE BLOOD is a great film, and deserved the Best Picture Oscar.
As for you picking the film that confused you the most, well, I can't get next to that, either. What's more, NO COUNTRY, for all its narrative ambiguity, does end: all three main characters reach very clear and definite conclusions. But, call me old-fashioned, but I like a film which is both ambiguous AND unified -- which I'm sure NO COUNTRY is, but let me finish -- AND doesn't exist too much within its own head. Which NO COUNTRY does and BLOOD & JUNO don't.
In the end, those two say something and tell a gripping story. For mine, NO COUNTRY says something and tells three-quarters of a gripping story before crawling into its own head and becoming an intellectual exercise. Maybe after reading Cormac McCarthy's novel, I might change my mind. Maybe the story works better on the page than the stage. But, without reading the book, this is just one man's opinion. And that opinion is, one film was intriguing but left me cold, the other reawakened me to what truly great cinema can do.
TSIK
Firstly to answer Shannon's facetious reply - when I said best film I meant 'Academy Award winner for Best Picture', in context with the original post. And of course it's not purely mathematics, I'm talking more about the complexity of the relationships. I'm not indulging in your frivolity thank you very much.
That leads me to Paul, who I thank for putting me in my place. I agree on Gangs, I promise to watch those films when I next get a few days free and you are right sir, there are many brilliant films in existence that depend solely on one or two actors of incredible strength and subtlety, but how many of your list won Academy Awards for Best Film? Only Silence of the Lambs, which also won the 4 other major awards.
That's what we're talking about - you wondered why one film one over the other two, I posed a theory. I don't dispute the brilliance of it, but I think in the minds of the voters the credit would go (as it did) to the actor. This isn't to say the director and supporting cast didn't stand out in their respective fields.
And it wasn't that I found No Country confusing - a confusing film alienates the audience and unless you're attempting something Brechtian you generally don't want that. Allow me to rephrase the particular point I made - I would vote for the film I found the most complex, because complexity makes us question the plainness in the real world. I found TWBB to be obvious and definite in it's telling, regardless of it's visceral, epic nature.
As for the characters 'very clear and definite conclusions', you've lost me there. Can you honestly say you know what was going through Anton Chigurh's head in his final moments on screen? Do you know why another character speaks that final monologue? As for the third I'm assuming you mean the character defeated in the unshown confrontation, and while it may be a definite ending I have no idea how you can call it conclusive. There are so many questions in that sequence alone that are left unanswered, probably even unasked.
You say theatre is a medium for the actor - quite true. But also for the designer, the storyteller and the director. It is almost impossible to create even moderately good theatre without an outside eye to pick up on flaws you may be too close to the process to see. And film evolved from theatre, the only real difference (apart from the dimensions, and in terms of the actor) are the technical aspects of the performance. In the end it is only the ancient and sacred art of storytelling in a different medium.
I'll finish with something I am often told by my teachers: You should not be happy if, after a performance, you're friends only say 'You were fantastic'. You should want them to say 'that story was fantastic'.
If you focus on the presentation rather than what is being presented, something has been missed. I would always rather be reminded of the power of truly great storytelling than 'what truly great cinema can do'.
Dave, you had me 'til the last paragraph:
"If you focus on the presentation rather than what is being presented, something has been missed. I would always rather be reminded of the power of truly great storytelling than 'what truly great cinema can do'."
I really have to pull you up there. I don't focus on the presentation of films that blow me away or disappoint me, at least not initially. This is what criticism is about: the process of understanding through analysis.
Every film/TV show/play/book I watch/read, I absolutely experience primarily on an instinctive, visceral level. It's not a "wow look at that camera move" or "that was a sweet edit" taking me out of the story -- although, as a film geek, things like that will occur to me often, because I do look for that stuff -- but if the story and the overall experience does something to me, or, conversely, doesn't... then it's my quest -- and, as a film geek and budding filmmaker, my duty -- to find out, personally, why. And, as I keep saying, my basic, non-intellectual gut instincts upon leaving these films were:
JUNO made me laugh, cry and I loved every minute.
TWBB made me feel both sad and thrilled -- as it engaged both my humanity and misanthropy -- just a darkly beautiful film. It knocked my head off, and I immediately knew I was in love with it.
NCFOM was an attractive mood piece which felt like a work of rare quality, but left me emotionally cold.
That's the thing. There 3 or 4 Coen Bros films I'll pop in the DVD player any day before NO COUNTRY. While it was still beautiful, at first sight, it felt a bit wanky in the last half hour, to tell you the truth... and it's only upon reflection that certain things become clearer, others unsure.
What I meant by "what great cinema can do" is a synthesis of telling a great story well, and using all available acting, directing, writing and technical powers to do it brilliantly. The statement had nothing to do with appreciating a film technically first and its story second. (Films like that are never my favourites: a case in point is I'M NOT THERE: stunning in conception, but so fragmented and "inside its own head", it's almost impossible to just enjoy it as a story.)
For me, TWBB & JUNO did it and NCFOM almost did it. But all of this analysis is filtered through my gut feeling, first and foremost.
TSIK
All very fair points, and we seem once more to be arguing about personal preference. I misunderstood what you meant in that instance, and I agree with the explanation - a synthesis of telling a great story well, and using all available acting, directing, writing and technical powers to do it brilliantly.
Just for my tastes if the technical aspect of storytelling is less visible, more in the background I am drawn in more. Like a magician's act, if you can't see how they perform a trick, it becomes magic.
I too am a fan of clever shooting and editing, I love they theories behind perspective and gaze used in modern film and theatre, and I often notice them when they're used effectively, which will momentarily take me away from the story. When I don't see them, for me, it's magic.
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