Every year, there tend to be a few movies that fly under the radar. Sometimes it’s because they go straight to DVD and sometimes it’s because they are low budget, don’t have a huge marketing campaign and only play in limited theaters. Here is a list of “gems” I believe may have gone unnoticed.

Mr. Nobody
opened: N/A

-Mr. Nobody found its way into my Top 10 of the year and, thanks to the internet and Netflix, the U.S was able to view this almost unnoticed movie. Mr. Nobody manages to combine a classic love story with some excellent visuals and winding stories leaving the audience to question what if this or that small occurrence happened in your life? How different would your life be? This movie is basically a big budget experimental movie. This is even the opinion of the director.

Easier with Practice
opened: Febuary 26^th 2010

-With movies like Catfish being shrouded in mystery and gaining buzz virally, it’s no surprise that a movie with almost the same subject matter, the same budget, and scripted would go unnoticed. Easier with Practice takes us to a time before social networking was popularized. Back to a time when strangers met over the phones and couldn’t simply Google the person they were talking to. Easier with Practice works in the same vein as Catfish and Talhotblonde meaning it involves talking to and getting to know someone before actually meeting them in person. This movie has a relatable lead character and a great story and it’s these 2 factors that sucked me right into this movie.

Boy
opened: January 22^nd, 2010 (Sundance)

-Boy is another movie that found its way onto my top 10 end of the year list. It’s a simple movie as seen through the eyes of an 11 year old boy named Boy living in a poor New Zealand town. You’d think a movie with all first time kid actors would falter but no, it adds to the charm that this movie exudes all through out.

The Immaculate Conception of Little Dizzle
opened: May 12^th, 2010

-Looking back, I’m not sure why I rated The Immaculate Conception of Little Dizzle so high. Let me rephrase that before someone stops reading this, views the trailer and thinks “Of COURSE someone like Dancy would like a movie like this.” This movie isn’t about much and lacks in story. I don’t usually fall in love with a movie solely on how it looks but there was something about this movie that really sucked me in. First of all, it has a pretty unique premise, and secondly, it’s filmed very unconventionally. You know, I honestly don’t expect anyone to like this movie as much as I did but, it’s one of those movies that you should watch if you love movies…and speed metal.

Metropia
opened: November 16^th, 2010 (DVD)

-Metropia may not do much for us in the writing department but it makes up for that in visuals. Using photo realistic CG that almost mimics motion capture, Metropia is dark, gritty, and down right creepy at times. This movie is truly a visual art piece.

You Might As Well Live
opened: October 12^th 2010 (DVD)

if Jared Hess and John Waters ever teamed up to direct a movie, it would turn out like this. This movie isn’t THAT good of a movie, but dammit it’s entertaining. This movie isn’t for everyone. It’s got that over the top camp that you would expect to see in a Hess or Waters movie. If you don’t like directors like that, then you won’t like this.”

Every Day
opened: January 14^th 2011

Every Day is a very simple and predictable movie but what’s makes this movie so interesting is the characters and the excellent writing from Nip/Tuck producer and first time movie director Richard Levine. Helen Hunt, Liev Schreiber. Eddie Izzard and Carla Gugino are all SUPERB!

American Cowslip
opened: September 7^th 2010

AMERICAN COWSLIP IS NOT THAT GOOD! I repeat, NOT GOOD! This movie is a bit all over the place. Why do I love it? It’s colorful, wacky, and weird. The story is just OK, but the insane and unorthodox characters are what really made this movie for me.

Diary of a Wimpy Kid
opened: March 19^th 2010

As I said in my review, “The writers of the movie don’t patronize the audience with a bunch of fart jokes, boogers, and slap-stick comedy.” Only surviving about a month and a half in major theaters, this movie came and went in no time. But, despite a very small marketing campaign, Wimpy Kid did VERY well for itself at the box office.

Peacock
opened: April 20^th 2010 (DVD)

Peacock is a very average movie but with a very interesting story. Cillian Murphy dressed as a woman imitating his wife. It’s hilarious and sad at the same time.

Enter the Void
opened: September 24^th 2010

Enter the Void…..yeah. All I can really say about this movie is watch it if you have 2 and a half hours to burn. Gasper Noe is an AMAZING director in my opinion. Visually, the man is a maniac. This movie will make you think you’re on drugs. But I promise, this effect will wear off after the first hour and a half.

TiMER
opened: May 14^th 2010

TiMER is an interesting little movie. The concept of wearing a device that’ll let you know EXACTLY when you’ll meet your soul mate is amazing to me. It’s definitely a very interesting concept. It’s not exactly a traditional romantic comedy and it feels like something is missing from the movie but, it’s still worth seeking out and watching.

Jeff Bridges has had what some might call a colorful career.

Having worked and acted in movies for over forty years, having found critical, commercial and cult recognition for dozens of memorable performances and great movies, and finally winning an Oscar last year for Crazy Heart, here he pops up again, showing no signs of slowing down, as he stars in two of the biggest movies of the year, opening within a week of each other, and promising great things, not only to their built in fanbases, but also from their star. These are Tron: Legacy and True Grit, and, obviously, while they may share a star, the similarities pretty much end there.

Picking up 28 years after the original, Tron: Legacy follows the son of Bridge’s Kevin Flynn from the original film, Sam, as he attempts to locate his long missing father in a hyper stylized computer world full of rebellious programs that threaten to escape to the outside world. As the effects of the original were pretty mind blowing when it first came out in 1982, the biggest jaw dropper of the sequel remains the action sequences and special effects, which, while maintaining the same aesthetic as the original, are still impressive, mainly due to creative and exciting direction, and a mostly perfect combination of the live action and CGI weapons and vehicles.

However, as anyone who’s ever left a theater unsatisfied after seeing a big budgeted studio blockbuster can tell you, effects can’t compare to an interesting character, or a story that makes you care about them. Luckily, Tron: Legacy has enough ideas and theories about the potential and future of technology, that even the slower parts are still interesting. Hearing Flynn waxing on about the evolution of his programs, and the idea of “biodigital jazz” as it occurred on the grid of his computerized world, will put a smile on the face of anyone who was a fan of the original, or simply enjoys hearing the ramblings of an imaginative old coot.

Unfortunately, one of the cooler ideas Tron: Legacy brings to the table finds Bridges, as Flynn, facing off against a program he created in his own image, CLU, who he initially assigns the task of creating and maintaining the perfect grid. The idea of CLU, a villain whose creation and sole purpose for existing goes against what its creator comes to believe is what’s best for the future, is interesting, but the execution, at least visually, just doesn’t cut it. Seeing as CLU is an extension of Flynn’s own self, it appears as a younger version of Jeff Bridges, allowing for Bridges to eventually face off against himself. But for all the great effects and slickness of it all, CLU never really looks quite right. The digitally de-aged Bridges looks normal enough, but the mouth never seems to match any of the dialogue, and when he isn’t talking, the face always goes back to this strange half-smile preset that, again, never looks quite right. It’s a shame that in a movie that is otherwise so impressive, something so apparent and omnipresent looks so poorly done, and it really brings down the rest of the movie.

As opposed to the hi-tech, action packed sci-fi in Tron, True Grit is a surprisingly low-key, talkative western, that, while light on the action, has some pretty memorable characters and moments of its own. Sticking to the theme of absent fathers started in Tron, the story revolves of Maddie Ross, a fourteen year old girl who hires a Texas Ranger and a U.S. Marshall to come along with her to find the man who killed her father. However, the main attraction here, at least for me, was never any of the actors or the story, but writers/directors, the Coen Brothers, two of the most interesting and diverse filmmakers working today. Here, their influence is most apparent in the heavily stylized dialogue, which is more often than not hilarious. But, while Hailee Steinfield, Jeff Bridges and Matt Damon all do very well as, respectively, the girl, the Marshall, and the Ranger, and the script can be quite clever at times, the whole effort just seems…too empty and repetitive.

Perhaps this has more to do with any expectations a fan of the Coen Brothers might have, but things seem to just happen too easily and too expectedly to be impressive. Whereas they normally create films that are unconventional and unique, this felt very bland and predictable, especially in comparison to Barton Fink, The Big Lebowski, and No Country For Old Men, for example. In adapting True Grit from the original Charles Portis novel, as opposed to simply remaking the John Wayne version from 1969, perhaps these issues stem from sticking too closely to the source material, making me think that if they intend to adapt anything, it should be something that better suits their eye for the odd and out of place. The inclusion of several scenes and characters, especially Bridge’s Rooster Cogburn briefly visiting a trading post, and a fur trading, traveling medicine man, seem like Coen creations, but the entire third act feels like almost like an afterthought, and, mostly, like it could’ve been a part of almost any other western.

Now, that’s not to say that True Grit is a bad movie, just not one I would expect to be so far from what many have come to expect from the Coens. All of the characters and their relationships with one another, as well as all of the low-lives and oddballs they come in contact with, are very well written and entertaining, and as far as the western aspect, all the gun-slinging and horse riding, is concerned, it’s all very exciting and beautifully shot. The problem stems more with the story itself, as well as some poor pacing, having all of the action saved for the final act, with the first and second acts saved almost exclusively for back-story and bickering.

Aside from a central performance from Jeff Bridges, the only other thing connecting Tron: Legacy and True Grit is, as previously mentioned, an emphasis on fathers. With the obvious use of the fathers in each of these movies as the central driving force of the plot, with True Grit’s Maddie Ross looking to avenge the death of hers, and Tron’s Sam Flynn looking to find and reconnect with his, we see two very different views of the father figure in modern American cinema. For as long as stories have been told, the relationship between fathers and their children, and the struggle to live up to the expectations and surpass the accomplishments of ones father, has been a popular device used by authors to connect generations and create a legitimate conflict that is both at once personal and universal. Seeing the completely different ways these two characters deal with the disappearance/death of their fathers, and how the paths each movie takes them in this quest to move on shows how vastly versatile this plot device can be, and how far it can be stretched in different directions, yet still remain present and powerful.

Despite any problems that may exist in both of these films, there is still a multitude of things to like in each of them. Objectively, there is no such thing as a perfect movie, and while neither of these movies seem to strive to be perfect, they are both perfectly enjoyable as they are, with or without their flaws. Bridges, the reason for this being a double review, is great in both movies, reprising a role he was perfect in the first time around in Tron, and taking on a role many thought would be impossible to live up to and impressively making it his own in True Grit. No matter what you think about either of these films, the ideas, performances, and filmmaking technique that went into each of them, no matter how different they are in comparison to one another, makes them both pretty impressive feats, and a pretty good time at the movies.

Tron: Legacy: 8 out of 10.

True Grit: 7 out of 10.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve noticed that people, understandably, seem to change with age. They tend to develop a more cynical view of the world and, especially with movies, scoff at things that used to make them look up with wonder. In conjunction with this cynicism, there also develops this contrarianism, in which these same people will suddenly stop liking things for no other reason than that they are popular and successful. Well, having now grown to see this change take place, I’m reminded of a movie that not only made me look up in wonder, but was also one of the most successful and popular movies of my childhood, Jurassic Park.

I was too young to remember or appreciate the success of Tim Burton’s Batman when it was released in 1989, but I remember all too vividly the anticipation and wild popularity of Jurassic Park when it was released in 1993. I had the toy jeep, the dinosaurs, the action figures, the coloring books, the lunch box, but of course, I was, as most young boys are, obsessed with dinosaurs long before the movie came out. Afterwards, however…whole different story. And not until The Dark Knight was released two years ago had I ever heard of a movie doing such repeat business, creating so many lines and sold out showings, and capturing the world in the way that only an incredible, well-crafted, and iconic blockbuster movie, like Jurassic Park, can. And what’s incredible is, after watching Jurassic Park for the first time in years last night, the special effects, story, and moral and ethical dilemmas are still not only relevant, but really, really entertaining.

Steven Spielberg is one of those guys that has really fallen victim to the contrarianism that I referenced earlier. After helping create some of the most iconic, successful and popular films of all time, movies that are loved by people of all ages and have been since their release, there are still people who scoff when they hear he’s got a new movie coming out, calling him things like “hack”, “sellout”, and “raper of my childhood”. Just last night as we watched Jurassic Park, Josh noticed some irresponsible camerawork, and made the claim, “Spielberg’s not a very good director, he just makes good movies.” And, boy, could I not disagree more.

Through the process of watching so many movies, going to the theater so often, and partly completing film school, I’ve noticed that a lot of people don’t really know what people other than actors do when it comes to filmmaking. I know Josh, so I know he knows, but I feel like if you asked any average movie-goer what a director does, they’d tell me that they make movies. To me, a director is simply a visual storyteller, or someone who uses shots, specifically nuanced performances, music, and editing to get their message across to an audience. The most intriguing facet of directing any movie, that I’ve noticed, is the filmmakers ability to subtly work in visual metaphors, or take ordinary objects or signals, and make them mean something that can make an audience tense up, laugh, cry, or any way they choose to manipulate them. Take Jurassic Park for example, and the case of the rippling water.

If you saw just that one shot, an image of a glass with the water rhythmically bouncing from the center to the rim…that means nothing without the context of what’s creating the ripple, or who’s watching the ripple, or what the ripple means. But using this device and applying the idea that something large enough taking a single step could have that effect, in conjunction with the knowledge and context that the movie provides about the situation of its characters as they sit right next to the cage of a suspiciously absent Tyrannosaurus Rex, well, that makes for some pretty brilliant and iconic cinema. Spielberg fills Jurassic Park, and almost all of his movies, with stuff like that: the ability to turn everyday objects and actions into something special and unique that connects them to the story he’s telling. When you think about it like this, it probably sounds very basic, but sometimes the basic things are the most effective.

Aside from all of these techniques, there’s nothing more memorable or childhood defining about Jurassic Park than the dinosaurs. Holy shit. At its best, Hollywood studio filmmaking is about creating the impossible and showing the audience something that they’ve never seen before. Since King Kong, Hollywood has chronicled it’s own obsession with presenting its audience with things that are new and exciting, always looking for the newest way to blow people’s minds. Watching this movie again last night, seventeen years after its release, it almost makes me mad that movies today can’t look as good as Jurassic Park does. If they could make me believe Jeff Goldblum is being chased by a creature that’s been extinct for millions of years, why can’t Jake Gyllenhaal look photorealistic when he uncorks the dagger of time, instead of looking like a cut-scene from a Playstation game? There’s just such an incredible level of detail and the ability to manipulate these creatures, making them look so real and alive, it’s not surprising that Jurassic Park is probably still held up as something visual effects artists work towards emulating to this day.

Jurassic Park is the perfect mix of everything that makes a great blockbuster: intense action, incredible special effects, memorable and likeable characters, and an ethical argument at its center that, like the effects, still holds up. Nearing almost the twenty year mark, Jurassic Park shows no signs of aging (except for the occasional reference to CD-ROMs), and feels as relevant, original, and entertaining as it ever did, and is one of those movies that can still make my cynical, contrarian mind believe that there’s an island somewhere out there full of genetically engineered dinosaurs who want to sneeze on me. It’s movie magic, and not only one of Spielberg’s best, but one of the best big-budget Hollywood movies that feels like its not only spent its budget correctly, but also earned its place at the top.

And that is why Jurassic Park is one of my favorite movies.

How Do You Know isn’t going to be on anybodies end of the year list. It’s gotten nothing but mediocre reviews from everyone I know who’s seen it, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there are people out there that downright hate it. And while I’m not saying that there’s anything in it worth hating, How Do You Know isn’t really a very good movie. But I don’t think I’ve smiled more while watching a movie all year.

Now, I may have laughed more at Scott Pilgrim, and been more amazed at Inception, and been more moved by Toy Story 3, but for about 95% of How Do You Know, I just couldn’t help but smile. Maybe its just that after sitting through You Again, Life As We Know It, Morning Glory, and Letters To Juliet, it’s surprising to see that someone can still make a romantic comedy that isn’t at worst something that makes me think less of the human race, and at best something that bores the hell out of me.

Here we follow recently unemployed professional softball player Lisa (Reese Witherspoon), who is currently involved with a professional baseball player (Owen Wilson), but is also set up on a blind date with a businessman (Paul Rudd), who is in the process of being investigated by the government due to the poor business practices of his father (Jack Nicholson). The two stories, one following Witherspoon as she tries to get her life together and find her identity after being cut from her softball team, and the other finding Rudd struggling to come to terms with his predicament, don’t really mix very well and get fairly repetitive by the end, with Rudd consistently keeping himself from hearing any new information about his case, and Witherspoon literally moving in and out of Owen Wilson’s apartment at least four or five times due to her own indecision. This repetition, along with very slim character arcs, not helped by the lack of gradual development, which leads to sudden changes in their character’s motivations and attitudes, makes for a pretty average movie, but, like I said, I don’t care.

I like Reese Witherspoon. I think she’s adorable, and find her watchable in almost anything (granted, I’ve never had to sit through Just Like Heaven). And ever since I saw her in Election, I’ve never felt as though I’ve needed to be convinced of her acting ability in anything else. While I may not find Paul Rudd to be adorable, I feel pretty much the same way about him. I think he’s one of the funniest actors working in movies today, and he’s got the normal, nice guy role down perfectly. So, where the story and characters may be questionable, I couldn’t be bothered to notice, as I was too busy watching these two do their thing.

I normally try to avoid using the pronoun “I”, or expressing my personal biases and opinions in these things, but as you can tell, my personal opinion goes so far against what I know to be true, there was no way I could exclude it from this review. Normally, I’ll end a review with a numerical representation of my conclusion, ranking the quality of the movie on a scale of one to ten, but you know what? If you want to see this movie, see it. And if you don’t, don’t. I don’t care. I’ll still like it, even though I know it isn’t very good.

Another Fivegoo.  Merry Christmas.  We progressively took off clothing throughout the last batch of Fivegoo’s.  Aren’t we funny?  Christmas movies.  Michael Moore, we love you.

Volume 2 - WET STREETS

Holy crap is this annoying.  I don’t know if any of you commoners or serfs pay close enough attention during movies, but next time you’re watching a movie, take note of the streets.  They’re always fucking wet.  It seems to be a staple in every god damn movie to have wet streets.  I swear there’s a guy on set of every movie just waiting for a street scene so he can bust out his hose and piss me off by dousing the street in horrible wetness.  And it’s not even during raining scenes.  Most of the time it’s completely dry out.  The cars are dry, the buildings are dry, the mailboxes are dry, the phone booth, the dogs, the cats.  But not the streets.  Somehow, it managed to rain ONLY on the streets.  I understand that directors and DP’s use it as a way to reflect light and color, but holy crap is it annoying.  And don’t tell me “oh but it looks cool.”  No it doesn’t.  It looks like a wet fucking street and I hate wet streets.

Now why such hostility over wet streets?  It seems like the smallest, most insignificant minutiae, right?  Wrong.  It’s a big deal.  Like literally the biggest deal ever.  A huge part of why I hate seeing wet streets in movies is because I ride a bike.  When you’re riding a bike on soggy streets, you will invariably become soaked by disgusting, muddy, dirty wetness.  And there’s nothing that quite ruins my day like experiencing this.  So when I see these pointlessly stupid wet streets in movies, all I can think about is how shitty it’d be to ride my bike on that road.

Movies tend to be fantasy worlds of excellence.  The good guys always win, the ugly loser ends up getting his dream girl, The Matrix, etc, etc.  They’re worlds that invoke escapism within us.  We wish we could live in movie worlds where awesome stuff is constantly occurring. (Think The Patriot, The Happening, or Varsity Blues). So when something comes along like these god damn wet streets, it makes me die a little bit inside.  It takes some of the luster off of movie worlds.

Let’s pretend for a second that I’m Neo.  One pill leads to Matrix physics, endless rave parties, and wet streets.  The other pill leads to Desk Job A, mortgages, and dry streets.  Which do I choose?  Sorry Morpheus, but I’m taking the dry streets.  Take it up with the stupid Architect.

There comes a time every year, that lasts for just a few weeks, in which my job takes over my life, especially on weeknights. Unfortunately, this keeps me from doing a lot of other things I’d rather be doing instead, most notably, going to the movies. In the last two weeks alone, I’ve missed screenings of The Green Hornet, How Do You Know, Made In Dagenham, Tron: Legacy, The Chronicles of Narnia, The Music Never Stopped, and Yogi Bear, among others. So, I made a vow to see whatever it was the next screening I could get tickets to, no matter what.

And so, I saw Gulliver’s Travels.

No Caption Available

Now, there are a ton of movies like Gulliver’s Travels that come out every month. Those movies we all just assume are terrible, but, hey, they’re for kids, so it’s not like anyone with an opinion that matters will ever have to see it, right? So we keep them off our radar, scoffing at them if they’re ever brought up, if the poster hangs on the wall of the theater, or the trailer plays on television, knowing we’ll never have to sit through any of them. And then the day comes where you find yourself sitting in a darkened theater, watching the events of one unfold in front of you, and only one thought pops into your head: How did I get here? It’s like ignoring a foreign travesty on the news for months, and then turning around to see an army of brainwashed Nigerian children pointing their automatic weapons at you for your diamonds.

It ain’t pretty.

Am I comparing a Jack Black children's movie to genocide? Yes. Yes I am.

Now, I understand: Gulliver’s Travels is, indeed, a kid’s movie, and the laughs are not really intended for anyone over the mental capacity of an eight year old, but there are so many things wrong at such a basic level, it’s really hard to just ignore the general shittiness of the movie and leave it alone. Here we have Jack Black as Gulliver, a tubby mailroom clerk with the hots for one of the writers in the travel guide company he works for. After lying and plagiarizing to win her affections, Gulliver is sent on an assignment, only to find himself sucked through a whirlpool, landing in the country of Liliput, which is populated by people who, in comparison to Gulliver, are miniscule and all speak with British accents. It turns out the Liliputians are embroiled in a war with their long time rivals, and oh my god who cares? Starting weakly, Gulliver’s Travels only gets worse as the running time grows, as pointless characters with weak storylines keep pushing into each other and making the same tired, predictable, and unfunny pop culture references that you’d expect to see in any of the kiddie remakes/adaptations of cartoons from the 1960s that have come out in the last few years. While the theater we were in had its fair share of adults, many kids were also seeing the same thing we were, and laughing just as much.

But the most frustrating thing about Gulliver’s Travels weren’t any of the lame jokes or boring storytelling, but the ridiculously unfulfilled potential of the talented cast who are all wasted here, and the shameful lack of any excitement, action, or reason for this movie to exist. At least seven or eight times I found myself wondering what any of the filmmakers were thinking as this movie went through every phase of getting made, from getting the script written, to casting the roles, to creating the special effects, and, in an almost Last Airbender-ian way, not seeing that anything was wrong with what they were doing. When, as Kyle overheard, a six year old telling her mom outside the theater after watching this movie that her favorite part was the whirl pool that sucked Gulliver into Liliput, a scene that occurs approximately ten minutes into this 95 minute movie and last for about ten seconds, then you know your missing something.

There are so many opportunities for something exciting to happen, but every moment of adversity is glossed over with a cross-dissolve fading to everyone safely where they need to be too fast for the audience to even hope for something worth their ten dollars. Joe Lo Truglio, for example, is one of my favorite comedic character actors, turning up in Wet Hot American Summer, Role Models, Superbad, Pineapple Express, and many other movies just to remind me why I enjoy seeing him pop up unexpectedly. Here, however, the extent of his usefulness is being a Liliputian guard whose sole purpose is to be shoved up Jack Black’s ass as the giant falls backwards with his pants down. This action works so well as a metaphor for the talent and effort put into Gulliver’s Travels, as everything here seems like a waste of time and energy that could’ve been put towards something not only better, but also something original, but instead is shoved up the ass of a giant idiot.

Again, Gulliver’s Travels is not for someone in my demographic, and, honestly, it’s a pretty average, non-offensive movie that is simply bland. And while the jokes may not be funny, and the story may seem very jumpy and conventional, it’s meant to be seen by those who aren’t going to know the difference, or remember any of it after a few hours anyway. There just seems to be too many of these movies coming out in such a close proximity to each other, I feel like something’s got to give in the children’s movie market before they all start turning out like this one. While they might not know the difference now, movies like Gulliver’s Travels are preparing the kids unlucky enough to see it for nothing but a life without imagination, creativity, humor, or conflict. And, as we all know, life never has any of those in them, does it.

But, hey, maybe I’m just thinking too much about it.

3 out of 10.

Read Part 1 here, Part 2 here and Part 3 here.

Loves of A Blonde – Forman (1965)

I can’t think of much to say for this film. It wasn’t quite as good as many of the other films we’ve seen. In fact, if I had to place it in a numerical order, it would probably fall into the lower half. However, as I’ve stated before, we have yet to watch a bad movie (in my opinion, Shoot the Piano Player is my least favorite so far), and therefore, there is some redeeming quality to it. If I were to choose it from the entire film, it would be the titular blonde of the film, Andula, and her character. I don’t quite know what it is, but as we follow her through the film, I can’t help but be fascinated with the outcome and actions of our protagonist, and the circumstances she finds herself in, and often puts herself in. Desperate enough to follow the offhand comment to live with an almost complete stranger shows desperation for change that is rarely seen in life, and therefore almost never seen in film, though it’s probably something that happens. However, the film still suffers from the same problems as other films I’ve had trouble with (La Dolce Vita, the aforementioned Shoot the Piano Player), as, while the ideas are good, they shouldn’t sacrifice the story in order to better exemplify the ideas behind it.

Knife In the Water – Polanski (1962)

Like The Silence, I don’t think we watched enough of this film in class, and think that we should have finished it, as, based on the short clip we viewed from it, it’s hard to pass judgment. One thing I found to be interesting is that if I were told nothing about this film but its title, I could’ve come up with about 500 other scenarios that would come to mind before the actual plot of the film (most of them would focus on a cruise populated by sorority girls being stalked by a murderous stowaway with a penchant for murder, but, hey, that’s just me). I would’ve liked to continue to watch the film and figure out the meaning of the title in relation to what is basically a relationship drama, instead of filling my head with thoughts of B-Horror movies.

L’Avventura – Antonioni (1960)

The way the plot of this film was explained to us before watching it, and after having viewed the actual execution of it, I realize my expectations ended up being far greater than the result, at least, in my head. By the end of the clips we were shown, I realized that the ideas Antonioni was attempting to express would’ve been completely lost on me, had it not been for the brief introduction, as the idea was far broader than I had anticipated. I actually expected a break in the fourth wall, one character, the leading actress, to make a conscious decision to leave the story she had been a part of, and become a part of various different stories instead. However, the opposite perspective was captured instead, as we are shown her co-stars lost without her as she goes missing. Of course, none of them realize what is happening, and that they’re characters in a movie, a move that, I feel, had an idea that could’ve made for a much more interesting premise.

Blow-Up – Antonioni (1966)

Again, while a story is buried within the running time of Blow-Up, it seems to focus more on the misadventures of an immature, shallow, self-obsessed photographer discovering that the world is much greater than just his own life. And then returning to his old ways anyway, despite knowing the sensation he felt when he thought he had foiled a murder, and making a difference in the life another human being. Much like many of the other films we’ve watched, this follows a character who barely develops, making huge discoveries about themselves and the world around them, and being too scared by the change it would bring in their lives to make any permanent changes to them. One could argue that the end symbolizes a change in the character of Thomas, but I find his return of the imaginary ball only shows his descent further into his own imaginary life of self-importance where his is the only life that matters. Again, though, I could be wrong.

Despite the wide variety of films we’ve seen in class this past semester, they share many of the same themes: identity, free will versus destiny, communication, and the rights of mimes, among others. However, as acknowledged by the question we are to answer, many of these filmmakers were working amongst great social and political change after World War II and the beginning of the 1960s, a quality that shows in some of their works. As the development of technology became a primary concern of those involved with military and manufacturing businesses, regular people became concerned with the growing impersonality of the world around them, which was creating machines to do the work of people. This impersonality and uncertainty of identity is evident in several of the films we viewed, including Pickpocket, La Jetee, The Silence, and (especially) Persona.

Now, looking back at these films, I may not have recognized it before, but I can now see this argument in all of them, even if they’re unintentional. For example, in Pickpocket, Bresson’s protagonist, Michel, is an emotionless man, stealing from people in a mechanical fashion, seen doing so with several others like him as they move like clockwork in order to lift dozens of wallets from unsuspecting citizens. It is only by the end of the film that Michel recognizes that he feels love for his neighbor, Jeanne, and has already been imprisoned as a result of his inhuman attitude and actions towards his fellow man. Making these connections isn’t that far of a stretch, where, as a pickpocket, Michel is a criminal and imprisoned, but becomes a human when he breaks down and finally allows his emotions to humanize him.

Unlike Michel, La Jetee’s protagonist, a guinea pig for a scientific experiment involving time travel, is selected for his emotional connection to a past event in his life. He is continually sent back to that time, where he searches for a woman he knows nothing about, except for a connection he feels with her due to her place in his memory. Of course, in another look at this debate, here the protagonist ends up dying because of his humanity, and is killed by the continued exploitation of it by those in charge of creating the technology that is supposed to save mankind.

Looking back on these posts so many years later, I’m reminded of a lot of great movies that I’d almost forgotten I’d seen, and also of a lot of mediocre movies I’m glad I forgot entirely. While I wouldn’t necessarily call New Wave a genre, much like it’s hard to call color films a genre, they are all unique in the ideas and stories they attempt to convey. While some may succeed in this attempt, many seem to get stuck trying too hard to make themselves clear, or find a clever way to say something that could’ve been made clearer by being said in a straightforward manner.

But, as with all movies, I can’t be disappointed with having seen any of these movies, even though a few of them have been disappointments. It’s always a good thing to be exposed to new ideas, and films and filmmakers you otherwise would have no knowledge or compulsion to look for. And for being exposed to such films as Breathless, Wild Strawberries, Cleo From 5 To 7, and such filmmakers as Godard, Bergman and Varda, I’m glad I accidentally found myself taking Narrative Form & the New Wave.

Guess which one's the director?

Hello again and welcome to another stupid Fivegoo.  Don’t you just hate these things?  To all 4 of you who come to this site, we hope you enjoy Fivegoo #9, where we bitch about minutia.  Sometimes stuff happens in movies that the common viewer won’t even notice.  But we’re stupid and we watch too many movies, so we notice it.  And it pisses us off.  This is the 3rd Fivegoo of December and there’s actually 2 more to go!  How exciting.  If you’re detail-oriented like us, you’ll notice something odd about each of us over the course of these December Fivegoo’s.  It all culminates with the next one.  Stay tuned for excellent everything.