Regis Dialogue w/ Julian Schnabel @ the Walker

Julian Schnabel: Artist Director

Walker Cinema, March 4-19, 2011

Via the Walker Art Center (trailers below the jump):

"Over the past 20 years, the Regis Dialogue and Retrospective programs have brought some of today’s most innovative and influential filmmakers to the Walker Cinema, an intimate setting in which directors talk about their creative process, influences, and body of work illuminated with film clips, anecdotes, and personal insights. In March, join Julian Schnabel in conversation with Walker chief curator Darsie Alexander on the Cinema stage.

Getafilm Gallimaufry: Marwencol, Black Swan, True Grit, & Exit Through the Gift Shop

[Note: This series includes scattered thoughts on various movie-related topics. I was looking for a word that started with the letter "g" that means collection or assortment, but lest you think I'm some elitist wordsmith, know that I'd never heard of "gallimaufry" and I don't even know how to say it, but it was the only other option the thesaurus provided aside from "goulash" (too foody) and "garbage" (no).]

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Marwencol (A) 

There's a fine line between a hobby and an obsession. Take my love of movies, for example - is this blog a healthy,  creative side project, or an unhealthy manifestation of a subconscious desire to escape reality through film? Or what about Mark Hogancamp, who, after being beaten within an inch of his life several years ago and his long-term memory, regained his personality and his imagination through a fantastical world he created with plastic figurines? I can live without movies (maybe?), but Hogancamp can't live without these dolls. They are not a hobby, and they are not even an obsession. They are like air and water, necessary for his daily life. 

Hogancamp's alternate reality, named Marwencol, is so detailed and lifelike that it appears to exists as a living, breathing place, filled with characters and backstories enough to fill a series of books. If I had the patience and artistic talent to create places like it, I might end up lost with the dolls as well. This is not to say that Hogancamp doesn't have a handle on reality, just that considering where he's coming from it makes perfect sense that Marwencol is his security blanket from the judgments of the world (he was beaten at a bar after admitting to a habit of cross-dressing). It's the place he can go to get away, and be his own person in his own mind, and in that sense Marwencol is an almost uncomfortably personal entry into his thoughts and emotions.

I'm sure it wasn't easy for Mark Hogancamp to agree to "expose" himself through this film, but his world, Marwencol, should be appreciated not only for what it means to him, but to everyone who seeks a place that offers that kind of solace.

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Black Swan (B)  

As Darren Aronofsky's Black Swan reached its climactic finale, I'd made peace with my opinion of the movie: it was a lesser Fight Club, without the humor and witty cultural references. Maybe that says something about my gender or my disinterest in ballet, but in my head it was just a reaction to the familiarity of the story. I realize the plots aren't in any way similar, but, despite not having seen a trailer or learned anything about the story, I felt I'd been led to believe Black Swan was going to be some kind of transcendent thriller that would twist my mind and leave me breathless. Instead, I had a headache from the avian sound effects and predictable fright scenes, and I grew impatient to see something I hadn't seen before.

In the weeks afterward I considered the praise for Black Swan's ambiguity (i.e., was the ending real?) and acting, but as it recedes in my mind I don't have any great desire to see it again. I'm optimistic there are any number of similar films about passion and drive that aren't as cold, dark, and disturbing, like, for instance, Aronofosky's The Wrestler, which is a light and cheery family film in comparison.

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True Grit (A-)  

At least for me, movies in 2010 were severely lacking memorable characters. I mean the kind of characters that you can recognize with one line of dialogue, or dress up for Halloween as, or spoof on "Saturday Night Live". Jeff Bridges as Rooster Cogburn is one of those characters, and although I haven't seen the original True Grit, I think I'd rather watch Bridges in the character if only because he's a lot more fun to imitate than John Wayne.

Sure, the Coen Brothers left their mark on True Grit, but I'd be lying if I didn't expect more from them. Not more in terms of quality, per se, but more in terms of Coen-ness. More scenes like the bartering scene with Mattie Ross or the courtroom scene, more bizarre characters popping in and out of nowhere, and a little more dry humor. But their intention was a straightforward adaptation, and in that they likely succeeded (I haven't read the novel). Just doesn't seem like they had much reason for taking this on if they weren't going to do something unique with it.

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Exit Through the Gift Shop (A-) 

I finally caught up to this raved-about documentary, and despite hearing much about its authenticity, the mysteries didn't appear where and when I expected. I've known of Banksy for several years, but I knew little about the rise of street art or the increasing number of public exhibitions by street artists. Essentially, I didn't realize their work had been accepted as legitimate in the eyes of collectors and auction houses. So, it didn't take much to convince me that Thierry Guetta could be a real person. As improbable as everything was, nothing really seemed outside of the realm of possibility (similar to My Kid Could Paint That), and there were fewer aspects of this film that made me think it wasn't real.

Conversely, everything about I'm Still Here seemed fake from the beginning (I saw it before it was officially announced as a hoax), so I could laugh along with Phoenix and Affleck as they punked everyone. Does its greater believability make Exit Through the Gift Shop a better documentary? Is it even a documentary, or an actual artistic statement by Banksy? Does it even matter? This is what I'm left wondering, but regardless of what I believe or discover about the truth, I now understand why this film has received so much attention. It's like one of Banksy's great works, subverting our expectations and telling us something we don't want to admit to ourselves about art, hype, and money.

300 Words About: Waste Land

Topically similar to Garbage Dreams but thematically similar to Born into Brothels, Lucy Walker's endearing Waste Land is a humble, tender tribute to the millions of people we walk by daily but avoid looking in the eye. In the U.S., as in Brazil and maybe every other developed nation, an undercurrent of classism wreaks havoc on the social fabric. We marginalize and generalize about the groups below us on the social ladder, never considering to recognize the ambitions and talents of the individuals who comprise those groups. If a picture is worth a thousand words, Vik Muniz' portraits of workers in the world's largest landfill (Jardim Gramacho, outside Rio de Janeiro) tell a timeless story of human ambition, cooperation, innovation, beauty, and creativity.

That's pretty flowery language applied to a film set amongst mountains of rotting garbage, but it's there if you look for it - and you don't have to look too hard. These portraits, which are photos of garbage arranged to represent photos (you might have to see it to understand it), are astounding artistic achievements even without considering the subjects of the photos, the team of people involved in constructing the portraits, or the materials from which they are composed. When all of that is evaluated as well, it's not surprising to learn that the "Pictures of Garbage" (double entendre intended) collection broke attendance records at modern art museums around the world.

On the surface, the motive behind Muniz' project (to "change lives") appeared naive, even foolish. This is partly because he had the complete wrong impression of the people who worked at Jardim Gramacho, and partly because no good deed goes unpunished, and whatever sacrifices Muniz was willing to make (in this case, his marriage) were not necessarily going to guarantee a better life for the civil servants who provide what amounts to indentured labor in picking recycled materials out of the landfill.

But Muniz was successful, and director Lucy Walker was successful (for the second time in two years), because both of them realized that often the most effective way to lift someone up is to embrace who they are, where they are, before finding a way to tap into the positive aspects of their individual character. It's probably not a coincidence that the subjects chosen by Muniz for this particular project are quite attractive by most standards, but if he has shown anything, it's that even beautiful people might not recognize their beauty until someone shows it to them.

REVIEW: The Fall (A-)

Background: Despite all the negative criticism thrown at music video and TV commercial director Tarsem Singh for his first film, The Cell, nobody could deny that it at least looked a lot cooler than the average psychotic thriller flick. With J. Lo and Vince Vaughn out of the way and no bizarre murderer plot to muddle things up, "Tarsem" returns with The Fall, a shining example of an independent film if there ever was one. Using virtually NO special effects and shot entirely on location (in 18 countries), Tarsem self-financed and self-everythinged the film, telling friend David Fincher, "I won’t have the passion and belligerence that I think this is going to take 10 years from now." He found Catinca Untaru in Romania and then cast Lee Pace ("Pushing Daisies," Mrs. Pettigrew Lives for a Day), who will be a familiar face for American audiences. Alhough The Fall, which is a remake of the Bulgarian film Yo Ho Ho, first screened at film festivals in 2006, it was not picked up for distribution (by Roadside Attractions) until this year. Watch for it to be in the discussion for some technical Oscars next year.

Synopsis : In glorious black and white slow motion, we see the immediate aftermath of an accident involving a train, a bridge, a horse and a river. Later we learn that stuntman Roy Walker (Pace) has severely injured his legs in the accident and his girlfriend has run off with the film's leading man. Staying in the same L.A. hospital as Roy is Alexandria (Untaru), a young immigrant girl who broke her arm picking oranges. The two strike up what appears to be a cute little friendship, though we soon learn Roy, who is suicidal, is coaxing Alexandria to steal morphine pills for him from the hospital's dispensary. He does this by telling her a story about five "bandits" who are seeking revenge against Governor Odious. Roy is just making this up as he goes along, of course, but the characters in the story are, at least in Alexandria's head and on our screen, actual people who they see everyday. Roy grows increasingly desperate while Alexandria grows increasingly engrossed in the story. By the time she realizes what's going on, Roy is at his wit's end and the story has overwhelmed both of them. A nice little ending is followed by a bizarrely placed but otherwise very cool montage of stunts from some of Hollywood's greatest silent films.

I Loved:
+ The Oscar-worthy cinematography.
+ The first five minutes: black and white + classical music + slow motion = amazing.
+ Two of the best scene transitions I've seen all year: butterfly into reef and face into desert.

I Liked:
+ The totally believable innocence of Catinca Untaru (read a bizarrely written bio here).
+ Lee Pace, with whom I've been otherwise unfamiliar. His stardom might ratchet up a few notches if this makes it out of the arthouse circuit.

I Disliked:
- The penultimate scene between Roy and Alexandria - it was supposed to carry the emotional weight of the film, but left me restless and unmoved.
- The "R" rating. You usually won't find me advocating a lower MPAA rating for a movie, but here it is. I would be totally fine with young teens entering this fantasy world (especially if it exposes them to independent film), and the violence is on a scale far lower than, for example, Prince Caspian.

I Hated:
- The distracting jerk couple behind me in the theater.

Grade:
Writing - 9
Acting - 10
Production - 10
Emotional Impact - 8
Music - 5
Significance - 3

Total: 45/50 = 90% = A-

Last Word: With only two credits to his name, we already know that Tarsem Singh is a filmmaker who drives critics crazy. Mission accomplished with The Fall, bound to be one of the most divisive and misunderstood films of the year. I'm not claiming to have fully grasped all of its symbolic richness, but I'm also, fortunately, not in a critic's position to have to pretend like I did. I went for the visuals and was surprised to find a nice little story hiding behind the surface, and despite the best efforts of the clowns sitting behind me in the theater, I took a mostly entertaining and exotic trip around the world. I was completely unmoved by the emotional heart of this film (the relationship between Alexandria and Roy), but the hypnotizing images and raw ambition of Singh's daring production are just too impressive to downgrade the film any further. This is high-class art (and it's not much more than that) deserving of the full price of theater admission. Dig this, and learn more about the production background from Marilyn Ferdinand's (Ferdy on Films) experience with The Fall.

REVIEW: My Kid Could Paint That (A)

Background: The title of the film is a well-known joke among skeptics of abstract art. How can so much money and critical praise be generously given to paintings that seemingly require no skill? I'll admit that I've always been on the questioning side of this debate. I'm sorry, I don't "get" abstract art. Jackson Pollock's paintings don't impress me, nor do I think he had some deep philosophical symbolism splattered all over a canvas. So, I'm a skeptic. Naturally then, I was intrigued to see Amir Bar-Lev's documentary about a young girl who is hailed as the next great abstract artist while she's still in diapers. Child prodigies are typically known as great musicians or mathematicians, but you can objectively measure those skills. Does everyone agree on abstract art? I thought the whole point was not to.

Synopsis: In Binghamton, NY, 4 year-old Marla Olmstead begins attracting local attention for abstract paintings that, according to her parents, she has completed all by herself. A local art dealer hosts a show for Marla's paintings, and soon enough she is all over the national media and attending glamorous gallery openings of her work as far away as Los Angeles. Her paintings, first sold at a local coffee shop, soon sell for tens of thousands of dollars. Bar-Lev sets up the film with Marla's story before moving into a debate on the value of abstract art. Is the work done by prodigious artists important because of the person or the painting? In other words, would Marla's work be so amazing if she were, say, 30 years older and a parent of two kids? An interesting question, because suspicions are soon aroused - especially after a critical 60 Minutes expose - that Marla may not actually be working entirely alone on her paintings. Her father, a painter himself and the person seeking the most marketing opportunities for Marla, denies time and again that he is involved in any way with Marla's work. But then why, after many failed attempts, can no one get video footage of Marla completing a masterwork? Her parents offer home video of Marla independently finishing a painting, but anyone can see, especially under careful examination, that her work looks different than the ones that have been sold under her name. So are her parents lying when they say they haven't helped her? There's no proof they have, but there is also no proof they haven't. Who do you believe?

I Loved:
+ That the debate is left unresolved - as it should in a documentary.
+ The section debating the worthiness of abstract art.

I Liked:
+ The honest involvement of Amir Bar-Lev (relative to somebody like Michael Moore).
+ The comparison sequence where we see different parts of Marla's paintings next to each other.
+ The mocking giggles in the theater when the rich couple drove off in their Hummer.

I Disliked:
- The rich couple driving off in their Hummer, and the other collectors who gushed over Marla's work - one man going so far as to interpret parts of her painting in unimaginable detail.
- Not knowing more about Marla's dad's artistic background.

I Hated:
- That the debate is left unresolved. Yeah, that's how it should be, but it's still frustrating!

Grade:
Writing - N/A
Acting - N/A
Production - 9
Emotional Impact - 9
Music - 5
Significance - 5

Total: 28/30 = 93% = A

Last Word: Amir Bar-Lev did a Q & A after the screening I was at, which shed a lot more light on the details of certain scenes, and also probably colored my impression of the movie. I definitely respect his work - even when asked directly about what he believed to be true, he wouldn't budge. He lets the film speak for itself, and it says so much you won't really know what you even heard - did this person actually say that? One criticism I can offer of My Kid Could Paint That stems from that fact that Amir Bar-Lev really stumbled on the story-as-scandal. You can tell that he originally meant to just frame an argument about abstract art, but it of course turned into an amazing story of truth vs. fiction with hundreds of thousands of dollars hanging in the balance. The only problem is that it doesn't really transition well, and I kind of think he should have made two separate films. That being said, My Kid Could Paint That is one of the best documentaries I've seen in a long time primarily because there is no right answer forced upon the viewer. You are 100% able to decide for yourself, and it is an incredible feat for Bar-Lev to have allowed that freedom of choice.