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58. MIS: HUMAN SECRET WEAPON [May. 13th, 2012|08:59 pm]
dir. Junichi Suzuki, Japan/USA 2012.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2318595/

Untitled

"Yesterday's enemy is today's friend."

Narrative filmmaker Junichi Suzuki has recently taken to directing documentaries to relate the history of Japanese Americans, which is relatively unknown and uncelebrated on both sides of the Pacific, despite the massive impact it has had in furthering the multi-cultural resolution, from the most contentious times and the ensuing fallout.

Suzuki's previous offering centered around the more well-known 442nd regiment of Japanese American infantry, who faced combat on the European front, while this latest project lays out the experiences, contributions, and reflections of the Military Intelligence Service (MIS) enlisted men and women serving in the Pacific theater, dating back to even before WWII, and recognized very recently with Congressional Gold Medals.

These Kibei and Nisei were instrumental in interrogations, interceptions, diversions, and other operations of war, but also ended up helping soldiers on both sides retain their humanity in the face of the overwhelming loss of life all around - small memories such as an MIS man evoking an emotional and even grateful response from a Caucasian officer by showing him a photo found on a fallen Japanese combatant, capturing two visages, perhaps the dead man's wife and mother, thereby allowing the officer to recognize their enemies as fellow people, rather than falling into the all-too-easy trap of disengaging from them as Others.

This type of shared empathy also bled out to the other side, such as when a number of Okinawan civilians holed themselves up in caves, prepared to commit governmentally-mandated mass suicide as American forces approached, only to be ultimately rescued physically and emotionally by their brethren in the MIS who could understand them both linguistically and culturally. On a larger scale, the MIS was also present to assist with the post-nuclear devastation, and to help reconstruct the country as a whole following Japan's surrender aboard the USS Missouri.

It's a real privilege to spend time onscreen with these veterans while they are still around, given how rare this information has been. Suzuki bridges the interview footage with lovely digital photography of the relevant landscapes - from San Francisco's Presidio where the MIS were trained to the Imperial Palace, the rich colors set right a turbulent world worth preserving, while an impressive amount of stock footage and photos show the captivating subjects in their prime, juxtaposed with other recognizable historical figures such as MacArthur and Hirohito.

The piece is narrated by Lane Nishikawa, who is a fitting choice given his long career as a proponent of this and other Japanese American history through his stagework, though his delivery is often too authoritative - along with Kitaro's sweeping score, these elements detract from the more reserved and personal nature of these interviews. But these are far from grossly manipulative aesthetic choices, and it is rather dismaying to see this film so coolly received by professional critics. Besides the obvious fact that any effort to record and promote this little-recognized history should be supported rather than nitpicked at, its underlying themes of forgiveness, evinced in so many of its most memorable segments, are utterly timeless and affecting.
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49. LIBERAL ARTS [Apr. 29th, 2012|12:30 pm]
dir. Josh Radnor, USA 2012.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1872818

Untitled

"Think about it- you can walk around here, say 'I'm a poet,' and no one will punch you in the face."

The SF Film Society Members Screening for this year's fest was Josh Radnor's LIBERAL ARTS, a film I would otherwise not have seen, but enjoyed immensely- between just having seen DAMSELS IN DISTRESS, and similarly spent time last week with Cal students as does the protagonist here at his alma mater, Kenyon, while accumulating more visceral reminders of my age as of late, the story and characters are hitting me at just the right time in my life.

Indeed, Radnor captures this moment in the post-quarterlife crisis with tremendous earnestness and introspection, and conveys many relevant emotional ideas with warm visuals- it is so pleasant and invigorating to see American independent movies continue to trend in being so much more grounded and optimistic than their predecessors. Like DAMSELS, the college experience here is closer to the one I had, characterized more by big conversations and soul-searching than boozing and other Dionysian pursuits, which are more part of the atmosphere.

Radnor's script toes the line between treating the characters as devices and actual memories well enough to give the actors room to put their stamp on the material- while the writerly strings are still somewhat apparent, the arcs are so effective that the work stands as a significant benchmark in Radnor's creative evolution, one that is relatable and seems attainable through the passion and empathy that his characters espouse.

Big thanks to SFFS for programming this screening- I've previously kept Radnor and "How I Met Your Mother" at somewhat of a distance, having not quite related to those characters as so many of my friends have, but he really showed me something here, taking personal experience to celebrate the developmental safety of university and what comes after, using the usual homecoming arc and conventions in honest ways that resonated with me more than others of its kind that felt more forced (GARDEN STATE being foremost in my mind at present, though definitely not without its own charms). I can't wait for more of my friends and family to see this film so that we can talk about it together- I'd like nothing better.
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41. DAMSELS IN DISTRESS [Apr. 23rd, 2012|01:43 am]
dir. Whit Stillman, USA 2011.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1667307/

Untitled

"This soap, and this scent, are what give me hope."

14 years after THE LAST DAYS OF DISCO, Whit Stillman's latest has been worth the wait, jam-packed with dialogue, characters, and style that are as witty, elegant, and adorably relatable as ever. Though the story still takes place in a WASP-y conclave (this time a women's college that has recently gone co-ed), it is undeniably a setting of the present, featuring Stillman's most pan-ethnic cast of Americans yet (Megalyn Echikunwoke, "The Wire"'s Jermaine Crawford, and Doug Yasuda, along with cameos from Aubrey Plaza of "Parks and Recreation" and Alia Shawkat of "Arrested Development"), solidifying the (relative) universality of his themes amongst the upper-middle class.

It wouldn't be difficult, as with the previous films, to dismiss the antics and dialogue as broadly un-naturalistic, yet I've always found the characters of these stories to express their ideas and flaws with such specificity, such as the motif of soap and comforting cleanliness in the quote above, that I immediately embraced the film's indulgences and arrogances, which mirror my own, as they wonderfully formed a rabbit hole of frivolously intellectual yet genuinely empathetic conversations - the kind that I have when I'm enjoying life the most.

The cast and crew hit just the right tone to avoid the trivial quirkiness of mumblecore, from the earnestness of the delivery to the heavenly hues of the radiant daytime photography by Doug Emmett (in contrast to the earlier METROPOLITAN and THE LAST DAYS OF DISCO, which took place mostly in the hours of late-night partying) - colors end up playing a key role in the events, and the digital print that I saw did a fine job of making them stand out in the gorgeous settings, though I have not been able to find any technical details of the shoot yet... Stillman strikes me as a director who would try to use film if possible, though the look here certainly served the story well.

Stillman's films continue to welcome audiences with the conviviality of a dinner party (the opening credits are still designed like formal invitations, to my delight), while resonating with an observant wit that opens up both larger musings on the cultivation and preservation of fellowship, as well as the liberating and invigorating rush of allowing yourself to potentially look ridiculous in order to show the world who you are- DISCO especially kicked off this throughline with its closing dance number (following the more contained cha-cha in METROPOLITAN, getting bolder with the limbo in BARCELONA), full-throatily launching into the musical territory that has its own space and time in multiple segments this time around. I'd honestly love to see this movie projected in dance halls, wherein the audience can put away their folding chairs and participate along with the characters, as invited to by the onscreen titles detailing the steps. I state this even as someone who is not necessarily a fan of the sing-along trend that keeps so many repertory movie houses afloat nowadays, so enrapturing did I find the spirit of this experience.

Capping off a Sunday with this film was especially fitting after catching an earlier screening of HARLAN COUNTY USA in honor of director Barbara Kopple's 35+ years of making staggeringly engaging documentaries, as I was first introduced to the works of Stillman and Kopple through their respective episodes of "Homicide: Life on the Street", a show which took the still unparalleled step of continually introducing independent filmmakers to network television, while giving them enough creative freedom to allow their contributions to stand out on their own, prompting fans like me to seek out their other projects, given how distinctive their approaches were to these familiar characters. And what a payoff that effort has continued to yield...
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24. JOHN CARTER [Mar. 3rd, 2012|12:18 am]
dir. Andrew Stanton, USA 2012.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0401729/



The adventure serial is back, in a meticulously constructed and considered modern realization of 19th century aesthetics and sensibilities. Following a clumsily diffuse marketing campaign and lengthy reputation as a problem project whose budget skyrocketed beyond what most would expect from a literary franchise that has somewhat faded from popular memory, the actual movie honors the craft of good storytelling and imagination while managing a hefty amount of scope and material. Upon finally seeing this, most decisions that I had questioned coming in were addressed to the benefit of the narrative experience, including the one to title the film JOHN CARTER rather than the original A PRINCESS OF MARS or the more obvious JOHN CARTER OF MARS, as the film hinges a great deal on the protagonist's character arc, despite the notable attention to detail in the backstory and history of the alien culture in which he finds himself, related fairly organically through the thrilling events and dynamic interactions between the various players.

The leads won me over more quickly than I expected - I had felt previously that Taylor Kitsch and Lynn Collins looked too contemporary to fit into the world of a Burroughs era, but their hard work paid off and they inhabit their roles entirely, assisted by some fluid editing, and flanked by a dream team of HBO regulars and strong character actors from both sides of the pond. Similarly the effects work primarily serves the story, fleshing out the society, creatures, and mechanics of Mars in its fantastic and practical facets, while Stanton and crew do not shy way from depicting far from idealistic aspects of the heroes and villains alike, making the setting feel that much more real.

It will be interesting to see if critics and audiences can receive this movie in the face of the prejudice promoted by what has largely been reported on it thus far, most of which has described financial and political elements peripheral to the creative process and journey. As stated previously, it is a revival of a type of story that is not necessarily in fashion with our current times, making it possible to dismiss by those already eager to do so. Yet it's grounded in relatable and even relevant conflicts of both inter- and intra-personal flavors, with a great deal of fun (yes, Woola, the faithful dog-like Calot, steals every shot that he's in). I'm still not sure how this project garnered such seemingly unwavering and generous studio support, given its checkered history, but I'm quite glad that it did.
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16. CORIOLANUS [Feb. 11th, 2012|03:06 am]
dir. Ralph Fiennes, UK 2011.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1372686/



"Every gash was an enemy's grave."

It's mighty enticing for directors of film and theater alike, especially ones with classical training, to recontextualize the words and scenarios of Shakespeare away from their originally intended backdrops. The language of the Bard is already so figurative that it lends itself well to such an approach, though complex enough that one cannot go about it lazily - along with the poetic nature and style of the dialogue, the characters and plots carry with them a considerable amount of backstory referencing events much better known amongst Elizabethan audiences than those of today.

Here, scribe John Logan is fluent enough with the text and its metaphorical underpinnings to reframe them into a timely, immediately relevant setting without miring the story in directly political or didactic messaging. The story of a soldier scorned by the mutability of his people is not an unfamiliar one in history, especially of Rome, but it finds particular resonance in today's first world society, where violence is globally present and yet ever distant from our daily lives. If war is an extension of politics, as von Clauswitz put forth, the reverse is equally true, perhaps even inseparable from the best and worst aspects of human nature.

In the tradition of Laurence Olivier and Kenneth Branagh, star and first-time director Ralph Fiennes finds his own voice with which to film Shakespeare's work, and earnestly presents the ugly business of warfare, both in staging military engagements in urban combat, as well as unflinchingly framing himself in shots of ill glamor, efficiently capturing the range of his title character as a man who is as simply honest as he is bloodthirsty. A life of battle allows Caius Martius Coriolanus to be true to himself, without prejudice or perhaps even malice, at least not consciously towards the people - his hate is initially a mere channel through which he fuels his military effectiveness for his country - while peacetime and its attendant politicking overwhelm his straightforward nature with its unnatural demands of, in essence, celebrity, as well as the ability to lie effectively.

Filmed largely in Serbia, Barry Ackroyd's handheld camerawork serves the material well - in every scene, the audience shares each literal step taken by the various characters, set against each other in the flattened perspective of long lenses; the compositions are just unsteady enough to provide naturalism without dizzying the experience. Fiennes also makes good use of a number of local Serbian actors to fill in the ranks with strong presences; complementing a remarkably pan-ethnic cast, also representing actors at all stages along their careers. In particular, the production is savvy enough to have snapped up Lubna Azabal (absolutely transcendent as the revolutionary-turned-prisoner-turned-refugee over the course of the many decades covered in INCENDIES) and Jessica Chastain (respectively luminous and formidable in THE TREE OF LIFE and THE DEBT) for key roles as they were both on the cusp of becoming strongly sought after for higher-profile projects.

Ilan Eshkeri provides the high-tension score, and Fiennes marshals all of these artists to produce a fine, fierce drama. Logan peppers the script with a number of effective narrative devices (e.g., newscasters, punditry, video conferencing, very brief subtitles establishing the key locations as they appear) to ensure the comprehensibility of the dialogue and backstory, without compromising the text, and Fiennes executes those concepts to the hilt, even casting real-life anchorman Jon Snow, who delivers his lines with his experienced timbre while also demonstrating a facility for the Shakespearean cadence. The results of these and other choices yield one of the most naturalistic renderings of Shakespeare that I've seen, even among other successful modern adaptations such as Michael Almereyda's HAMLET set in Manhattan, or Baz Luhrmann's more stylized but textually faithful ROMEO + JULIET. Fiennes has proven himself a hell of a director here, and though I don't wish typecasting upon anyone, I can't deny that I would love to see him take on another of the Bard's works for his next go as well.

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14. THE GREAT WHITE SILENCE [Feb. 9th, 2012|01:44 am]
dir. Herbert G. Ponting, UK 1924.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1764657/



Filmmaker Ponting accompanied Robert Falcon Scott on the Terra Nova Expedition to the South Pole, an effort that began in 1910 and took over two years, with unexpected and tragic results. Honoring the crew of the Terra Nova with a vastly impressive amount of footage that relays many of their experiences in the form of tidily edited vignettes, the film sometimes strikes an uncomfortably jingoistic tone, but one that is generally earned by the evident challenges inherent to the voyage, shown in the inclement weather conditions, as well as the sheer epic span of time in which these men journeyed far from home with little to no creature comforts.

Along the way, Ponting creates novel techniques that would come to be standard for documentary films, especially ones centered around nature and the animal kingdom, the key difference being that Ponting doesn't try to hide his manipulations of the situations, and rather describes the interventions of himself and the crew on the proceedings in detail. The forthrightness of this subjectivity is both discomfiting and refreshing - most modern nature pieces such as PLANET EARTH take a very strict non-disruptive approach to observing the wildlife, but here the navymen harpoon a killer whale in order to prevent it from snaring a baby seal whose mother has been seen struggling to get back on land, or chase around a flock of penguins in a bit of fun, even after noting the harsher aspects of their existence, such as their clear disadvantages against the skua gulls that easily swoop down and steal eggs before their surface-bound cousins can react. In such segments there is a sense of both innocence and exceptionalism that startlingly hits upon how closely coupled those notions can be.

Accompanying stills and "second unit" photography also reveal how Ponting captured certain shots, showing him and his improvised camera rigs on the ship's mast or a sled. His resourcefulness is energizing to see, and the results remain often breathtaking even now. At the same time, he's sharp enough not to dwell very long on relating his methodology, but asides just enough to add to the context of the material he's filming, while literally putting the audience on site with him. By and large the film balances this personal approach with the professionalism of the editing and the camerawork to come off as more than just a home video, even one taken in adventurous locales. Yet, it's interesting to see the directorial choices these early documentarians had to make given their technological limitations - narrated entirely with intertitles, there are times when the text literally tells the viewer where to look in the next shot - this comes off as far less clumsy than one might think, and adds to the veracity of the more observational segments.

The digital restoration of this nearly century-old footage is remarkably clean without making it look unnaturally so, while Simon Fisher Turner's modern electronic score is dynamic and layers several different motifs for the various moods of the piece. The British Film Institute is to be commended for their work in preserving this important sample of early cinema, but I also hope that a restored film print can tour the world as well - tonight's presentation was on DVD, making for a different and compromised experience. Still, the material shines through and its impact and contribution to film history is now available to be explored by new audiences.
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10. NORWEGIAN WOOD [Feb. 5th, 2012|07:23 pm]
dir. Tran Anh Hung, Japan 2010.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1270842



"Only degenerates feel sorry for themselves."

Vietnamese auteur Tran's peaceful adaptation of Haruki Murakami's modern romantic masterpiece takes its viewers along a stream of desires almost too powerful to bear. Utilizing the full stillness of digital photography executed by Taiwanese DP Mark Lee Ping Bin, the film depicts the wide complement of Japanese seasons alongside the depths of an enthralling love story- perhaps not since the days of Akira Kurosawa have the elements of wind, rain, and snow been so utterly cinematic.

Perfectly cast with actors possessing the ability to sustain emotions over lengthy and immersive single shots, often while hitting rather complicated marks, the performances sing with evocative chemistry, painstakingly drawn with seemingly effortless naturalism. These characters come alive as human beings grasping at closeness as universally sought by those of us left behind in life's indifferent wake- in the face of overwhelming tragedy, the ones who choose to live ever create something memorable by means of the strongest survival instincts.

The movie features a generous number of inviting visual and aural motifs, the latter delivered by the strings of the Emperor Quartet performing emotionally complex original compositions by Jonny Greenwood. Lively lighting dynamically bounces off of glossy and warm skin tones, presenting a friendly color palette in an honest celebration of vitality amidst the harshest that the world can lay upon us.

Devastatingly sensual without ever relying on getting graphic, the film resides in minutely intimate moments. There may be no definitive expression of true love, but in experiencing this story, I felt all that I at one time or another accepted as the complete surrender to the demands of my heart and soul. One day, I will revisit this movie alongside someone new that I unquestionably care about with full faith, but until then, I soldier on in good cheer.

I am moved beyond tears.
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6. PERFECT SENSE [Feb. 3rd, 2012|02:34 am]
dir. David Mackenzie, Germany/UK/Denmark/Sweden 2011.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1439572



"At least you've got your health," we assure each other, all the while feeling largely invincible while keeping our fingers crossed, fleeing the never-quite-distant memories of the torturous times when our bodies diverged from the physiological status quo. Anyone who has experienced a bout of lower back pain for even just a few days can attest to just how jarring it is to realize how much literal heavy lifting those muscles and discs perform constantly, as basic tasks such as putting on socks or rising from a seated position become utterly associated with searing pain. Being able to relate to the body's fragility and proximity to terrifying discomfort is vital to investing in the human drama of PERFECT SENSE, the latest release from independent Scottish director David Mackenzie. in which a global epidemic slowly robs people of their sensory perceptions, one by one.

It's a bold premise to be sure, and it doesn't follow any of the technological conventions of popular science fiction, and instead gently asks its audience to buy into a couple of fantastic notions, to draw upon their own experiences with helplessness and disease, to grasp the will to retain and/or rediscover the power of empathy, perhaps the strongest sense we can rely upon. Mackenzie is also known for his previous collaboration with star Ewan McGregor in 2003, YOUNG ADAM, which I have not seen in some time, but left an impression on me as a bleak and brutally unsentimental portraiture of a group of working-class Glaswegians mired in the damage they inflict upon each other. As such, I was on edge while watching McGregor, co-lead Eva Green, and various other citizens of the world scraping and clawing to hold on to some semblance of societal life in the face of emotionally and physically crippling syndromes that hit spontaneously and unequivocally - the darkness of the previous film left me wholly unsure if the characters here could come to value the human closeness that the luckiest of us share, and whether it even mattered thematically.

At the same time, I embraced this uncertainty, bolstered by the confidence with which the film moves along, continually capturing moments in its multi-national locations (again mostly in Glasgow, but also in India, Kenya, and Mexico) that affirm the significance of minor joys in our quality of life- sudden smiles, rays of sunlight, the relief of release from uncontrollable weights. The disease that fuels the narrative is quite the dramatic convenience, totally unexplained and perfectly paced with the protagonists' arcs, and as such, works well for audiences that recognize a stage as a laboratory and breeding ground for character reactions. The responses brought forth by these melodramatic events are rooted in relatable experiences, and the filmmakers strive to emphasize this universality by often juxtaposing the emotional trauma of the leads alongside that of the secondary players, as well as nameless extras scattered the world over.

The layered conceit of the premise is that just prior to the loss of a sense, the infected also involuntarily express some extreme but common impulse - the disease first manifests as an overwhelming sense of tragedy, engulfing each person with memories of profound losses before taking away their ability to smell. Epidemiologist Susan (Green) labors to decipher, contain, and cure this so-called Spontaneous Olfactory Syndrome, while gourmet chef Michael (McGregor) rallies his colleagues to experiment with new culinary creations to compensate for the dwindling customers' inability to augment their dining experience with their noses. Danish writer Kim Fupz Aakeson's instinct to present the story from the twin perspectives of science and culture's agents is a compelling one, providing a strong backbone to the potentially sprawling chaos of the growing crisis, while complementing both leads with backstories that illustrate the ironic humanity in the common and unexpected incapacity to empathize with our loved ones at significant junctures.

The final elements tying these themes together are the reassuring and nostalgic narration, and the elegiac score by Max Richter. Giles Nutthens' cinematography sometimes gets deliberately jittery and features some relatively harsh lighting, yielding a mixed bag of effectual visual imbalance, but overall results in a clean look that works for compositional complexity that can be revisited and studied. Mackenzie has helmed an independent and modestly financed film that yet features a rich scope surrounding the end of the daily life as we know it, while expressing a surprising amount of faith in our institutions to cope with and even provide invaluable assistance in the direst of times. When a television flashes the simple text of "WE WILL KEEP YOU INFORMED" over black space, I did not get a Big Brother feel at all, but rather an unexpected sense of comfort rallying against all modern instincts to cynically condemn the media, the government, corporations, and damn near all organizations altogether. As with most movies over the past year, this story has divided critics and audiences rather passionately, and I'm not sure what to say in response to those who hated this experience, but hope that others can share in this journey that stirred my sensibilities beautifully.
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4. HAYWIRE [Jan. 23rd, 2012|02:18 am]
dir. Steven Soderbergh, USA/Ireland 2011.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1506999/



Soderbergh and writer Lem Dobbs' last project together, 1999's THE LIMEY, is perhaps the former's most championed work among his fans, an absorbingly oblique revenge drama with stunning editing that recalled and revived the iconography of 1960's cinema to layer the characters' history folding into their present. The film also nicely complemented Soderbergh's mainstream breakout hit of the previous year, OUT OF SIGHT (following a decade or so exploring the independent circuit exclusively with various, but mostly minor levels of success), establishing the auteur's first successful pairing of popcorn and arthouse efforts to come. Their entertainingly contentious DVD commentary set the record straight that many of the directorial choices that were praised, such as the single shot of Wilson entering and exiting a warehouse full of combatants, with all acts of violence in the interim kept offscreen, were actually scripted, whereas those that were criticized, such as the amorphous nature of the backstory, were Soderbergh's deliberate deviations from Dobbs' screenplay.

It's not yet clear to what extent Soderbergh adhered to Dobbs' blueprint this time around in HAYWIRE, but both films' protagonists are direct people of action, and their motivations are similarly revealed in elliptical forms such as flashbacks within flashbacks, though the themes are arguably quite more light here. Indeed, when it comes to the musical score, Soderbergh's more frequent collaborators are Cliff Martinez for his heavier films such as TRAFFIC, SOLARIS, and CONTAGION, and David Holmes for his breezier fare like the aforementioned OUT OF SIGHT, the OCEAN'S 11 movies, and this project.

And yet, the stakes feel higher than in those caper films, as the story touches on some of the international intrigue that feels at home in the director's more politically-charged settings, so the result somewhat hybridizes the two major styles often characterizing his work, somewhat like an inverse of THE INFORMANT, which took a purely comedic tack while depicting serious corporate collusion. The real-world context for HAYWIRE's plot is the prominence of private contractors in American paramilitary operations, and the corruption that it attracts, but the story keeps its depicted scope and web of players pretty lean, yielding a smaller budget (a reported $25M, and a bargain at that given the various locales, with assistance from Ireland's tax credit for locally-produced films - temporary job creation in action) and luring an all-star cast (not that Soderbergh generally has a problem in this arena). At the very least as a result of this project, Soderbergh and crew have become much more fluent in capturing choreographed action, and have added several new actors to their informal repertory company, one of whom, Channing Tatum, has already contributed his talents to the director's next effort, MAGIC MIKE.

Indeed, Soderbergh has always gotten excellent performances, often working with newcomers, or taking established actors to the next level. Here Gina Carano makes her acting debut, and comes off as well at home on camera, both in terms of drama and action. Her Mallory Kane, star operative for a private firm contracted by the American government, exudes expedience, caution, and charm, often all at once, by keeping her expressions and gestures economical. While this is not a risky or complicated choice, it is a wise one for an initial outing, and it more than fits the character. She plays well off of the other major actors in the movie, striking various levels of trust or tension with each, rooting the audience in her suspicions and tactics. As with her MMA experience, the hand-to-hand combat scenarios here are thrilling and swift, with the goal of incapacitation over all other considerations, personal or not- these scenes looked grueling to learn, rehearse, and execute but also absolute fun for the actors and stunt team.

HAYWIRE might ultimately turn out to be merely a building block in Soderbergh's oeuvre, but it's by no means an insignificant one, judging by the new tools he's acquired in this go-around. Hopefully, Dobbs is equally satisfied with the results, but either way, should be required to join Soderbergh for another commentary on this movie's video release. The scales of direct storytelling opposite thematic resonance may swing between THE LIMEY and this movie, but there's certainly room for both when the output is this prolific, and as datapoints along a curve of narrative effectiveness, they are as fascinatingly instructive as they are entertaining.
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2. PINA [Jan. 11th, 2012|11:37 pm]
dir. Wim Wenders, Germany/France/UK 2011.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1440266/



Cinema, being the broadest of the current media available to audiences, often serves marvelously as a gateway to other artforms otherwise relatively fringe or inaccessible for lack of exposure or widespread interest. Here Wim Wenders is in fine form honoring the creative contributions of the late choreographer Pina Bausch and her company's body of work over the past few decades, presenting her abstract approach to artistic collaboration while forthrightly capturing the results of her passion and quiet mentorship over, amongst many others, the magnetic current dancers of her Tanztheater Wuppertal.

As did fellow auteurs such as Martin Scorsese in HUGO and Steven Spielberg with TINTIN, having experienced the movie studios' initial attempt at utilizing 3D technology and going on to debut their own impactful works in the 1970's, Wenders finds new ground to explore with recent stereoscopic advances. In particular, he and his camera crew make great use of the format's recessive properties, yielding great amounts of depth in more ways than one in which the viewer can joyfully get lost. One of the movie's opening shots is simply a bare stage from the audience's point of view, and the way the space literally draws one in to its distant background is immediately immersive. Going further, there are also many wonderful and novelly expressionistic uses of stereoscopic depth, an example of which is the planar separation between the foreground and background dancers in an early segment - even as the background company gets closer to the foreground leads of the sequence, the stereoscopic depth cues keep them at a distance greater than might naturally be possible. It's an extension of a similar technique that would be implemented in 2D with wide-angle lenses, yet the 3D effect gives it new life and visual flourish.

Similarly, one of the more lighthearted numbers ends with an iris in, a throwback to a scene transition not often seen since the silent era - it's a whimsical but powerful choice that spurred a visceral reaction from the audience because of the extra kick of its 3D element - the iris does not merely converge on a point of the screen, but also takes our eyes somewhere behind it. The film is peppered with several inventive 3D elements like this, all classically motivated by the general engine of strong visual direction - using colors, angles, lenses, sound, movement, and now a new layer of depth to gently but declaratively emphasize a focal point from which the viewer can best follow narratively and absorb as much of the surrounding detail as the moment allows.

Here it's not that all the world's a stage, but that there are stages everywhere- the various dance theater pieces sampled over the course of Pausch's tenure are performed not only in a conventional space (with we as viewers literally sat behind the diagetic audience), but also in various locations, many of them nondescript areas of city life, such as roadsides and transit stations. Throughout it all there is a sense of collective locomotion, beginning with the first number, featuring the entire company on stage, dropping the audience right into a performance while introducing them to the visual vocabulary of the dance. But Wenders also uses the full complement of cinematic tools to create an unique experience - in one number, he cuts back and forth between the company and two other groups of dancers performing the same routine, one a set of younger children, and the other a group of seniors. The camera and the timeline are constantly complicit partners in the dance, a choreography of composition and editing.

Interspersed with the dance segments are individual shots of a company member in profile, with that dancer relating his or her recollections of Pina and her methodology and influence in voiceover. These succinct soliloquys add contextual layers with which the dances can be enjoyed and taken in - knowing just a little of the personal journeys behind the movements enlightens the process enough to open up emotions on both sides of the screen that much more without getting too specific or explicit. From these memories and performances, the company dances for Pina, honoring her by throwing so much of themselves into their art - what strikes the viewer is how Pina's choreography is tailored so well to each individual, based on her remarkable talent for connecting with and challenging the abilities and personalities of her dancers.

Though their movements are unquestionably deliberate and practiced, they convey a stronger organic sense that makes it feel like every motion comes straight from each dancer's heart and soul - the choreography doesn't feel like something they were instructed to do, but rather something that was collectively reached. Within the company itself, this collaborative style continues - often, the interactions on stage consist of the dancers quoting and sampling each other's gestures, depicting a fluid dialogue that engages sensory perceptions that words cannot. Pina's legacy comes through in how she gave her company a true sense of authorship by keeping her directions abstract and personalized - the variety of nationalities, body types, and dance styles amongst the performers here presents a vast range of human expression, all of which was nurtured and made unafraid via her mentorship. The bare elements of strength and fragility, trust, balance, and fluidity are the axes along which these complex emotions are conveyed, in sometimes chaotic yet always purposeful steps.

Decades ago, Wenders was dragged to a Pina Bausch show by his then-girlfriend, not knowing what to expect as a complete newcomer to dance theater. The performance nevertheless brought him to tears, and he has successfully replicated that experience on a cinematic scale for similarly unindoctrinated viewers, while celebrating his friend and her magnificent art. It is enlightening to see just how much emotion can be stirred by the experiences Pina and Tanztheater Wuppertal present, and I'm only just beginning to understand what makes it possible, terribly intrigued by this new world of sensory communication by sharing dance.
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