Friday, November 28, 2008

SECOND ENTRY: SYNDROMES AND A CENTURY (2006)




I don't think I'll be going out on a limb to say that this film is the most 'experimental' of my ten entries. I discovered this film through one of the director's earlier movies called Troplical Malady. I discovered Tropical Malady through a now-defunct music/movie review website Stylus Magazine. I found Stylus to not only have a incredibly global focus to digging up interesting independent music, but also lend a certain indie-rock underground sensibility to their reviews of other cultural mediums, primarily films.

I had been injected with the counter-culture film bug for quite some time when I viewed Stylus' year-end film list a few years back, so most of the entries were familiar to me. But at number one on their list was Tropical Malady... directed by a Thai director named Apichatpong Weerasethakul... also nicknamed "Joe" if you're into the whole brevity thing (not kidding, that's his official nickname). The riveting review that compared the nearly dialogue-free second segment to the work of many legendary directors I admired compelled me to Netflix it... and I wasn't dissapointed. This was a unique style of filmmaking I was watching. Regardless of how meandering and patiently sequenced the plot was (and I still need to view it a second time to establish a real opinion on it), Tropical Malady's form, structure, and visuals seemed far more necessary for me to internalize than the romance at the foundation of the film.

A year or two later, Joe's next movie, Syndromes and a Century was released, and it played exclusively at the Gene Siskel Film Center. The two small screening rooms and academic setting of the venue (it's part of the Chicago Art Institute) demonstrates that the shows are for very particular tastes, and almost all of their screenings are not shown anywhere else, even at the the other Chicago-area art house theaters. If I only picked up Tropical Malady because of the praise of it on an obscure currently-inactive website, I can't imagine how the small crowd that watched Syndromes came to be aware of this movie.

Syndromes and a Century is divided into parts, one is in a rural setting in Thailand, perhaps set a few decades ago, and centered around a health clinic. The second part, through a thrilling but subtle transition, takes place in a modern urban setting in Thailand, and is set around a contemporary hospital. Each part contains similar characters, similar dialogue, and similar actors and actresses, but there are variations in the setting, in the forms of conversations, and the role the similar characters play. As the relationship between time and place meanders in all sorts of unexpected directions, 'Joe' fills this void with incredible imagery, humorous and touching situations, and an odd but compelling snapshot of society in Thailand, old and new.

Chicago Reader movie critic Jonathan Rosenbaum said the following:

"There's nothing here that resembles narrative urgency, but this is a quiet masterpiece, delicate and full of wonder."

His review at the time struck me, because if you are to release yourself, as a movie-goer, from the tether of the need for a narrative in a movie, Syndromes and a Century becomes a great experience. If the centrality of a movie is not in the plot, my situation as a film viewer is not necessarily more rewarding, but deeper. Syndromes doesn't offer a story; it offers an interaction of people with themselves and their surroundings, seeming to say that the simplicity of a beautiful shot of the Thai countryside juxtaposed with a slow haunting gradual close-up of a construction duct means something regarding the relationship of past and present that film can only begin to summarize creatively.

It sounds a little cliche, but words are really hard to describe this movie. In fact, the final point I want to make is that this film was commissioned by a foundation in Vienna to commemorate the 250th anniversary of the composer Mozart's birth. The director was said to have structured his movie in the form of a Mozart fugue, yet there isn't a continuous classical soundtrack. If fact, there is a mix of Southeastern Asian pop music and regular strings throughout Syndromes and a Century. Rather a filmmaker was translating the basic structure of 'themes and a variation' essential to classical music forms and vigorously translating it into his own personal private film language. While I believe this movie can be appreciate without this final context, the mysteries it opens makes the film worth repeated viewings. If you try to think of a novel written with music, a painting of a song, or a ballet of an indie rock album, the comprehension of the creative space that kind of expression might open leaves room to see Syndromes of a Century with clear eyes.

Monday, November 17, 2008

ENTRY 1: THE FIVE OBSTRUCTIONS (2003)

The Five Obstructions is directed by two Danish men. In one corner is Lars Von Trier, a filmmaker that seems to be focused as much on revolutionizing the method of filmmaking as making good films. I have seen two of his other movies that were pretty amazing; Breaking the Waves (1996) and Dancing in the Dark (2000). These two movies put Von Trier on the map, in addition to his development of a filmmaking philosophy called Dogme '95, which lays out certain edicts on a restrictive style of filmmaking. These restrictions include limited artificial lighting, no musical score, etc. I don't believe any of Von Trier's film strictly follow Dogme '95, but the ground rules of the philosophy serve as a foundation for his filmmaking, in which the variations on Dogme '95's "pure" technique of filmmaking serve as an illustration of how challenging it is to constrict his cinematic visions.

In the other directorial corner for this movie is Jorgen Leth, a maker of documentary and experimental films whom I had not heard of until I picked up this movie. In the 1960s Leth made a short film called "The Perfect Human", which is Von Trier's favorite film.

In The Five Obstructions, Von Trier challenges his mentor to remake "The Perfect Human" five times, with each remake being made in a style with deliberate conditions set by Von Trier. The first condition is to set the remake in a country Leth has not visited before, using shots of only 15 frames. The results are unconventional to say the least. And the obstructions get more demanding from that point on.

An indie filmmaker infamous for focusing on methodology over spectacle, challenging an even more obscure filmmaker in a cinematic exercise that on the surface seems more appropriate for a bunch of film school buddies that a casual filmgoer... is there a place for any general audience to find this engaging or even relevant?

As obtuse as the premise of the movie is, it is surprisingly compelling. The film projects are assigned to Leth by Von Trier not with an authoritarian's coldness, but with a glee in being able to use his generation of film-making style and concepts to infect and warp the filmmaking mind of one his mentors. There isn't a lot of backstory on the history of Leth and Von Trier's relationship, but from Leth's reactions and subtle expressions he seems to feel like a hesitant but willing lab rat for this exercise. As the obstructions become more severe and force Leth to sacrifice a comfortable creative distance from his film remakes, glimpses emerge of a person with a troubled past. This isn't a Leth biopic, but it's fascinating how this movie reveals a personal story beyond the narrow exercise and rules of the filmmaking obstructions.

What's interesting about this movie is that it involves an extreme form of artistic navel-gazing, as two directors working in the same demanding and non-commercial world of experimental films look further and further inward into several deep layers of the creative process. It's hard to tie the movie to universal themes with this insular premise. Yet it almost serves as one of the truest tests of film tastes out there. If you can find something fascinating about this discussion and presentation on the methods of filmmaking... if you can see a compelling experience in this cinematic experiment, then you're in good shape to be appreciate all sorts of films in unique and deep ways.

With future films on this list that play with narrative structure, cinematic expectations and often good taste, I find myself needing the wisdom of professional film critic or scholar to give me an appropriate context in which to understand a movie is trying to do. With The Five Obstructions, neither a pure documentary nor a collection of short films, the lines of understanding why the film exists is never unclear. It's the diversions of the film from that central strict exercise of The Obstructions that drive the film to enriching post-modern directions that go beyond the film medium and speak to something more universal about the process of creating.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Ten Movies That Have Made Me a Casual Film Snob

I read an article a few months ago about how food scientists have discovered a new taste to add to the five main taste categories that stimulate the taste buds. This new taste, umani, is difficult to describe, but it is different and distinct from the five senses. The article suggested an 'earthiness' to umani-- like an element of the tastes of steaks or mushrooms-- to serve as a starting point. But it is still a taste that isn't quite tangible to be able to articulate.

I have noticed that with the additional cultural resources available to me, that I am finding art that is difficult, in particular films that are difficult, to inspire a type of creative consumption that is beyond a mere viewing of a movie. A sixth sense is developing, so to speak, that is not about taking in art but about challenging the concept of what art is, and how it is being categorized to certain expectation. There are films that of course have complicated storylines and are incredibly engaging. I have a memory of pausing Jackie Brown several times as I was watching it with my friends, just so we could get on the same page as far as the complicated scheme the main character was hatching up. But despite the puzzle piece of a plot, the keys to knowing the story were there. But there are other cinematic experiences, that challenge me to redefine what movies are. And while there exists avant-garde literature, music, and paintings, I think the popular and accessible medium of moving pictures has particular resonance.

To kick off my little corner of the Internet for film essays (and to practice for my top 10 film list of the year), I have consulted my Netflix Queue and memory to come up with 10 films that define my new sense of film appreciation.

Now I would be the first to tell you that there is a fine line between difficult and indulgent film-making. I don't exactly enthusiastically run to the film sections of contemporary art galleries, because I know that those films are not going to grounded in an expectation of narrative but a mobile variation on the still paintings on other walls. Some films that appear in theaters or film festivals fit into this category, and while challenging images are worth appreciating, I can begin to understand and entertain challenging films if they use our expectation of narrative structure as a foundation on which can spring forth incredible variations.

The essential element of these following films is that 1) They are entertaining and 2) I wouldn't be able to pitch them to casual film-going friends and well-wishers in any simple way. I have many friends that would positively respond to my film recommendations with a simple "trust me on this", but also many others that when given the option of explaining the attraction of one of the movies, I'd rather give up and choose from the many options of non-crappy fun movie stories we could watch together.

So, if blogs are one of the most pointless self-indulgent things out there for writers of any caliber or audience, surely I should kick off this corner of cyberspace with a self-indulgent list of my own. Films that have awakened my inner film-snob. Films that bend one's concept of the reason people would watch movies. Films, that, if you trust me and know me, would be very enriching experiences of ambitious artistic visions that won't just end with a plot climax followed by credits.

Entries forthcoming...