A different approach to the cultivation of sporting legends was adopted by the former Soviet Union.
Notably in regards to hockey, according to Gabe Polsky's new documentary Red Army.
Constant training, living together in isolation for 11 months of the year, severe punishments for failure, patronizing management of all aspects of a player's life, a rigid system demanding strict and unyielding obedience.
Under coach Tikhonov anyways.
Coach Anatoli Tarasov had a different style, much more gentlepersonly, focusing on the artistic nature of the sport, the application of progressive thought to cohesive teamwork, balance, to equanimous belonging.
Both coaches succeeded, one was despised, one loved.
I never realized how crazy about hockey the Soviet Union was until watching this film, it was like watching Canadians discuss hockey, I didn't know Russians loved the game so much.
Tikhnonov's torturous regime did produce results, the Soviets going undefeated for 2 years in the '80s, Red Army even including footage of Gretzky in awe of their prowess, during his prime, the Russian Five of this period referred to by many as the greatest line ever.
They still hated their whiplashy coach.
I always understood that it's a source of National pride that we defeated the Soviets in '72, but I wasn't alive at the time and only ever really highly respected it because everyone who was alive at that point regarded it as a nation building moment, something much more elevated than just another international hockey tournament.
After watching Red Army, I fully understand why.
Even if Polsky exaggerates the Soviet Union's obsession with hockey, it still rivals our own, and to think that we beat them, winning 3 in a row on Soviet home ice to win the series, against a team that trained religiously, no pun intended, is astounding.
I always thought the Soviets were more well rounded when it came to sport, because their population was so much larger than Canada's, Russia's still is, thinking that with such a large population their athletic interests would be more like those of the United States, although I do recall them winning quite a few medals whenever the Olympics were held and they attended, in my youth, but don't ever recall them playing football, basketball, or baseball.
In Fareed Zakaria's Post-American World, whose title is misleading, he points out that the American economy was/is so dynamically multifaceted that it could/can pursue multiple goals simultaneously, and effectively, while countries with smaller economies have had/had to focus on a smaller number of things, many of which they elegantly pursue/d, but in terms of sheer diversity of excellence, no one could/can compete with the United States.
Perhaps that's why the Soviets focused so much attention on hockey.
They did finish 4th in the World Cup of Soccer in 1966 as well.
I've read a depressing number of articles recently about the lack of high-paying permanent jobs in the United States however, and it would be nice to read about that possible trend disappearing.
Red Army uses the example of Viacheslav Fetisov to offer insights into an individual's growth within a collective system, examining the pros and cons of that system from his own testimony, and that of others, thereby investigating how things have changed in Russia since communism fell.
He's perhaps not the best example to use since he spent most of his life on top, although it was a much less glamorous life than that experienced by exceptional professional athletes in North America or non-Soviet Europe, he still wasn't starving or sent to the gulag, and could hold his head high being one of the best in the world.
He still had very little freedom.
He eventually did play in North America, winning a Stanley Cup in his late 30s playing on a Russian line for the Detroit Red Wings, with one teammate from his former Red Army line (Igor Larionov).
Note that many players don't play that well in their late 30s in the NHL.
An informative tripartite examination of ideology, politics and sport, Red Army delivers a chilling look at objective efficiencies, the value of teamwork, and personal strength.
Unbelievable how many awards Fetisov won.
Good companion film for Foxcatcher.
Showing posts with label Socialism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Socialism. Show all posts
Friday, March 13, 2015
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Closer to the Moon
A rebellious blend of frustration and boredom brought about by systematic degradations leads a group of former World War II freedom fighters to commit crimes against the Romanian state, in Nae Caranfil's Closer to the Moon, a lively comic recklessly bold statement, on the entrenchment of hypocrisy, exclusively settling in.
The dark side of socialism, permanent socialism existing outside the boundaries established by regular democratic elections, interminably demanding that everyone conform to a specific set of established principles, which serve to lavishly support the chosen incorruptible few.
Closer to the Moon's bank robbers were all members of the elite, but as the state took an antisemitic turn, even though Jewish people had played an integral role in its construction, their privileges and freedoms were gradually stripped away.
Left to flounder, they choose to enact political drama, which is quickly hushed-up, until the officials can attach a propagandistic lynchpin.
The gang plays along, revelling in the irreverently ironic freedoms brought about by being condemned to death.
They're full of life, overflowing with intensity, applying their wit to embellish each precept, gleefully gesticulating, to maximize their resolve.
The film itself functions in the same way, a spirited salute to freedom, chuckling and plucking away, emphasizing group strength as opposed to authoritative coercion.
Seen through the eyes of a starstruck youth.
The dark side of socialism, permanent socialism existing outside the boundaries established by regular democratic elections, interminably demanding that everyone conform to a specific set of established principles, which serve to lavishly support the chosen incorruptible few.
Closer to the Moon's bank robbers were all members of the elite, but as the state took an antisemitic turn, even though Jewish people had played an integral role in its construction, their privileges and freedoms were gradually stripped away.
Left to flounder, they choose to enact political drama, which is quickly hushed-up, until the officials can attach a propagandistic lynchpin.
The gang plays along, revelling in the irreverently ironic freedoms brought about by being condemned to death.
They're full of life, overflowing with intensity, applying their wit to embellish each precept, gleefully gesticulating, to maximize their resolve.
The film itself functions in the same way, a spirited salute to freedom, chuckling and plucking away, emphasizing group strength as opposed to authoritative coercion.
Seen through the eyes of a starstruck youth.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
The Exterminating Angel
As times change and different political aesthetics present themselves, a dinner party is held for Mexican elites in Luis Buñuel's The Exterminating Angel. Everyone gathers for a delightful evening accompanied by delicious food items and accomplished musical entertainments.
There's just one problem.
For some indeterminate reason, the majority of workers feel compelled to leave before dinner is served and after dinner none of the guests is capable of leaving the room within which the festivities have expired. Confined together with nothing but their social relations to sustain themselves as the limited resources at their disposal are slowly consumed/utilized, those theoretically possessing a heightened sense of proper and refined conduct descend into madness, as the pet bear freely wanders to and fro.
At his or her leisure.
The external world becomes curious regarding the status of the imprisoned professionals but also find themselves unable to penetrate the invisible, intangible barrier.
As if a feudal set of social divisions has been challenged by a mischievous deity who demands that the well-to-do intimately embrace the circumstances which those who uphold their lavish caprice negotiate daily.
Unable to acknowledge a system wherein opportunity is available to all, or the fact that their luminescence is dependent upon semantic classifications which have designated the activities of working others as undesirable, time exasperatingly passes, and knowledge desperately self-destructs.
There's just one problem.
For some indeterminate reason, the majority of workers feel compelled to leave before dinner is served and after dinner none of the guests is capable of leaving the room within which the festivities have expired. Confined together with nothing but their social relations to sustain themselves as the limited resources at their disposal are slowly consumed/utilized, those theoretically possessing a heightened sense of proper and refined conduct descend into madness, as the pet bear freely wanders to and fro.
At his or her leisure.
The external world becomes curious regarding the status of the imprisoned professionals but also find themselves unable to penetrate the invisible, intangible barrier.
As if a feudal set of social divisions has been challenged by a mischievous deity who demands that the well-to-do intimately embrace the circumstances which those who uphold their lavish caprice negotiate daily.
Unable to acknowledge a system wherein opportunity is available to all, or the fact that their luminescence is dependent upon semantic classifications which have designated the activities of working others as undesirable, time exasperatingly passes, and knowledge desperately self-destructs.
Friday, April 22, 2011
The Light Thief
As Krygyzstan adjusts to post-Soviet realities and workers continue to enjoy their lives even though basic food items are difficult to come by, one person of the people continues to function as a link between the haves and have nots, risking his prestigious position to faithfully restore the light. A courageous film from director Aktan Abdykalykov, The Light Thief presents an impoverished rural town struggling to maintain its identity as political currents redefine the ways in which its country is managed. The mayor who fought for the rights of his people is dead and those seeking to obtain their land have replaced him with a naive relative whose loyalty is individualistic and up for sale. Those with capital are willing to potentially finance experimental projects but strict respect must first be paid to their patriarchal order. Svet-Ake (Aktan Abdykalykov) holds his ideals close to heart and isn't willing to sacrifice them. If a family can no longer pay their electric bill, he reconnects their system to keep them attached to the grid. When offered the opportunity to establish a wind farm, he discusses his plans in a state of respectful disbelief. But its creation is necessitated upon the retooling of his ethical code, a personal transformation he is unable to make.
Old World meets New World in The Light Thief's subtly turbulent narrative. Capital is required to refurbish but the only source of its generation is the only asset the people have left. The outlets for negotiations and collaborations are destabilized as technological advances role in. The voice established by the working class is in danger of being silenced.
Boldly championing the dignity of the people while sharply pointing out what's at stake if that dignity is sacrificed, The Light Thief accentuates what it means to take risks as a matter of principle. Focusing to much overt attention on Svet-Ake and not enough on developing minor characters, it still slyly highlights the ingenuity of the town's impoverished youth while suggesting that that ingenuity is threatened.
Old World meets New World in The Light Thief's subtly turbulent narrative. Capital is required to refurbish but the only source of its generation is the only asset the people have left. The outlets for negotiations and collaborations are destabilized as technological advances role in. The voice established by the working class is in danger of being silenced.
Boldly championing the dignity of the people while sharply pointing out what's at stake if that dignity is sacrificed, The Light Thief accentuates what it means to take risks as a matter of principle. Focusing to much overt attention on Svet-Ake and not enough on developing minor characters, it still slyly highlights the ingenuity of the town's impoverished youth while suggesting that that ingenuity is threatened.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Do Communists Have Better Sex?
André Meier's “Do Communists Have Better Sex?” playfully examines the cold war sexual dynamics of Eastern and Western Germany. The film consists of interviews with prominent intellectuals, newscasts, theoretical observations regarding the ideological motivations promoting different sexual attitudes within the two countries, propaganda, and contrasting Christian and Trade Union viewpoints concerning birth control (with comedic cartoons interspersed throughout). The contrasts are strikingly manufactured and Meier's film doesn’t try to solve anything. Instead, it places different approaches within a light-hearted yet provocative frame that gives both sides the chance to display their motivations. In the East, there isn't as much to buy, but there's all kinds of room for the development of one's imagination.
The screening I viewed at Cinema du Parc was followed by two American educational films. In the first, an Italian who speaks English with an accent awaits the birth of his child. However, his child is born dead and his purebred American doctor (who speaks perfect English) informs him that the cause of death was syphilis (purebred Americans never get syphilis!). Fortunately for this noble savage, a cure for syphilis exists, enabling him and his wife to have more children in the future. The end of the film vilifies brothels and who is shown operating these brothels but an African American woman? Racist ethnocentric propaganda at its best cunningly indoctrinating the land of the free. No mention is made of the costs associated with the required medical treatment. Fortunately, this humble Italian-American baker was likely free to receive an additional mortgage.
The second video chronicles the sexual development of a caucasian American teenage girl. She is interested in sex but confused. Her father has no advice and quietly reads the paper while his wife cooks dinner and takes care of the family. After a disastrous encounter with a nogoodnik who is only interested in one thing, she falls for a beautiful caucasian American boy. The quarterback of their high school football team no doubt! Afterwards, their relationship flourishes because they decide to have their sexual union sanitized by the bonds of marriage, legitimizing the purity of their future. Note that they come from the same social class, revel in their popularity (in moderation), and only have jealousy confronting their happiness. No mention is made of material sexual realities because everything is perfect, and only people who have something wrong with them could possibly not know how to naturally engage in healthy sexual activity. Propagandistic drivel, straight from the puritanical pulpit, idealistically scoring another touchdown for one-dimensional conservative points of view. Came close to throwing up my popcorn. With laughter!
The screening I viewed at Cinema du Parc was followed by two American educational films. In the first, an Italian who speaks English with an accent awaits the birth of his child. However, his child is born dead and his purebred American doctor (who speaks perfect English) informs him that the cause of death was syphilis (purebred Americans never get syphilis!). Fortunately for this noble savage, a cure for syphilis exists, enabling him and his wife to have more children in the future. The end of the film vilifies brothels and who is shown operating these brothels but an African American woman? Racist ethnocentric propaganda at its best cunningly indoctrinating the land of the free. No mention is made of the costs associated with the required medical treatment. Fortunately, this humble Italian-American baker was likely free to receive an additional mortgage.
The second video chronicles the sexual development of a caucasian American teenage girl. She is interested in sex but confused. Her father has no advice and quietly reads the paper while his wife cooks dinner and takes care of the family. After a disastrous encounter with a nogoodnik who is only interested in one thing, she falls for a beautiful caucasian American boy. The quarterback of their high school football team no doubt! Afterwards, their relationship flourishes because they decide to have their sexual union sanitized by the bonds of marriage, legitimizing the purity of their future. Note that they come from the same social class, revel in their popularity (in moderation), and only have jealousy confronting their happiness. No mention is made of material sexual realities because everything is perfect, and only people who have something wrong with them could possibly not know how to naturally engage in healthy sexual activity. Propagandistic drivel, straight from the puritanical pulpit, idealistically scoring another touchdown for one-dimensional conservative points of view. Came close to throwing up my popcorn. With laughter!
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Capitalism: A Love Story
Michael Moore, filmmaker, social activist, practical idealist, prominent voice. For twenty years he's been crafting socially conscious films which subvert the wealthy American elite in a playful, satirical fashion, and Capitalism: A Love Story once again displays his characteristic dynamic wit. Within, he uses conservative tropes to convey his liberal message to a wider audience. He interviews progressive Catholic thinkers to reestablish the left wing religious dimension (not to say that said dimension is exclusively Catholic, Moore just happens to have been raised Catholic so he interviews Catholic priests primarily). He focuses on his home town of Flint Michigan and includes a scene shot with his dad. He seeks unionized social justice with the degree of confident bravado you'd expect from a small town Western sheriff (masked by a subdued delivery). And he clearly indicates who the American villains are, to the best of his abilities, thereby utilizing the Republican political form and revitalizing it with ethical Democratic content (while simultaneously highlighting Democratic disappointments). He uncovers Citigroup documents which indicate that 1% of the population has more wealth than 95% of the American people combined; he points out that the majority of Americans have no hope of becoming one of the lucky few and could benefit from forming labour unions; he presents codetermination worker cooperatives (California's Alvarado Street Bakery and Wisconsin's Isthmus Engineering) which actually use democratic ideals to structure their business "hierarchies" as well as Vermont's socially democratic Senator Bernie Sanders; he includes footage of how Franklin D. Roosevelt supported the Flint Sit-Down Strike (1936) by sending in the military to protect striking workers; and he suggests that some German businesses have adopted social democratic practices which allow workers to elect members of their company's board of directors. He points out a lot of things and it's a film so the level of analysis is often terse and sentimental, quickly jumping from one scene to the next, presenting a wide variety of possibilities without offering a sincere degree of reflection. And it's also a film inasmuch as it's symphonically built with crescendoes and diminuendos, good guys and bad guys, ambiguity, and a compelling climax. Moore mentions that the one thing which frightens the plutocrats the most is that every American citizen has a vote and can theoretically elect individuals who threaten their capitalistic monopoly with progressive universal legislation. In presenting Barak Obama, Moore cleverly suggests that perhaps he is the person America's been waiting for while carefully enumerating his corporate sponsors.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Daybreakers
Vampire films. I'm a sucker for vampire films, especially when they receive a glowing review in The Globe and Mail. The Spierig Brother's Undead was a solid horror flick so I was pleasantly surprised to see that they crafted Daybreakers as well, this time with a significantly larger budget. Within, vampires have taken over the earth and humans have become farm animals, brutally supplying their eternal masters with a bountiful supply of blood. But humans have become scarce, and, without their abundant blood supply, vampires are turning into bat-like creatures known as sub-siders, more animal than humanoid. Modest vampire Edward Dalton (Ethan Hawke) (who refuses to drink human blood) searches for a blood alternative but his experiments come up short as time begins to run out. Enter Lionel 'Elvis' Cormac (Willem Dafoe) and partner Audrey Bennett (Claudia Karvan), two tough-as-nails humans looking for a way to mass market the cure for vampirism they've discovered, much to Dalton's surprise. The three form a tenacious triumvirate of dedicated researchers avidly searching for an experimental miracle. Fighting them are the forces of Bromley Corporation, lead by Charles Bromley (Sam Neill), who prefers the taste of human blood and isn't that interested in finding a cure. In the end, there's a sensational showdown quirkily equipped with a blistering bloodbath, dramatically delineating the high interest stakes.
While generally entertaining, Daybreakers is seriously predictable. Didn't have to use much brain power to figure out what was going to happen next. I also didn't take to the plot twist involving Bromley's daughter Alison (Isabel Lucas) and thought it could have been replaced with something more subtle. Ethically, the Spierig brothers seem to be saying that if everyone wants to be part of the elite, eventually their blood supply, the working person, will run out, and the only cure for their unholy elitism will be to become human once more. However, that transformation needs to be slowly nurtured (as the scene where the soldier vampires devour one another indicates) for otherwise revolutionary chaos will ensue ala The Soviet Union. Of course the only people capable of leading this quiet revolution have no means of marketing their humanitarian solution, but at least they're aware of the problem and are trying to do something about it.
While generally entertaining, Daybreakers is seriously predictable. Didn't have to use much brain power to figure out what was going to happen next. I also didn't take to the plot twist involving Bromley's daughter Alison (Isabel Lucas) and thought it could have been replaced with something more subtle. Ethically, the Spierig brothers seem to be saying that if everyone wants to be part of the elite, eventually their blood supply, the working person, will run out, and the only cure for their unholy elitism will be to become human once more. However, that transformation needs to be slowly nurtured (as the scene where the soldier vampires devour one another indicates) for otherwise revolutionary chaos will ensue ala The Soviet Union. Of course the only people capable of leading this quiet revolution have no means of marketing their humanitarian solution, but at least they're aware of the problem and are trying to do something about it.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Gamer
Brian Taylor and Mark Neveldine's Gamer synthesizes reality television and online gaming in a sadistic salute to mendicant masochism. Computer genius Ken Castle (Michael C. Hall [Six Feet under]) has created two billion dollar programs: Society and Slayers. Prime time participants have had nanites inserted into their brains in order to enable a third party to control their actions with hypersensitive virtual controllers. In Society, such participants live out the carnal fantasies of their masters for the benefit of their adoring public. In Slayers, death row inmates are given the chance to avoid the electric chair/ if they can survive 30 rounds of a bellicose bloodbath orchestrated within a simulated war zone. Running man Kable's (Gerard Butler) almost free, his controller Simon (Logan Lerman) a world renowned celebrity. But has Kable been framed by Castle for a crime he didn't commit and will an underground band of hackers be able to reunite him with his wife (and Society star) Angie (Amber Valletta), just in time for them to rescue their daughter?
It's all just a matter of time, depending on the ratings.
Gamer's a bit cheesily melodramatic and predictable but it's also entertaining and well executed (including a cameo from Star Trek's John De Lancie). It competently examines the age-old appetites versus intellect dynamic by creating a world where people ravenously devour realistic fantasies at the expense of the impoverished individuals forced to willingly yield their pride, while simultaneously championing methods of destabilizing this dominant discourse. There's also a scene which is so revolting that it ruined waffles for me (a sign of great directing). Taylor and Neveldine painstakingly point out that there are things that remain popular even though they're humiliating and that working class dignity is something for which people must fight. Their portrayal of the future resonates in the present and stands as a prominent warning against fascist social slayers.
It's all just a matter of time, depending on the ratings.
Gamer's a bit cheesily melodramatic and predictable but it's also entertaining and well executed (including a cameo from Star Trek's John De Lancie). It competently examines the age-old appetites versus intellect dynamic by creating a world where people ravenously devour realistic fantasies at the expense of the impoverished individuals forced to willingly yield their pride, while simultaneously championing methods of destabilizing this dominant discourse. There's also a scene which is so revolting that it ruined waffles for me (a sign of great directing). Taylor and Neveldine painstakingly point out that there are things that remain popular even though they're humiliating and that working class dignity is something for which people must fight. Their portrayal of the future resonates in the present and stands as a prominent warning against fascist social slayers.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Australia
Baz Luhrmann's Australia is a sincerely grand spectacle shot in the Gone with the Wind epic style minus about an hour and one intermission. Lady Sarah Ashley (Nicole Kidman) moves from Britain to Australia's Northern Territory with the intent of selling her husband's ranch, known as Faraway Downs. But upon her arrival she discovers he's dead and that there's been some seriously underhanded wheeling and dealing taking place on their land. Hence, she decides to drove (move cattle across a distance) her husband's cattle to Darwin in order to prevent his rival King Carney (Bryan Brown) from monopolizing the business. To drove she must find a drover and a tough-as-nails-plays-by-his-own-rules-no-one-hires-me-no-one-fires-me Drover (Hugh Jackman) surfaces and reluctantly agrees to assist. To stop them, Carney requires a villain, and weaselly-dead-beat-dad-environmentally-abusive Neil Fletcher (David Wenham) agrees to arrest their stride. Tying together and narrating the different multilayered threads is an Aboriginal child named Nullah (Brandon Walters) who desperately wants to avoid being taken away from his home and sent to a mission. And in the second half Japan invades, disrupting their insatiable antagonisms and turning both old and new worlds upside down.
A lot of what takes place in Australia is sappy, predictable, and highly melodramatic: but it's the best damned melodrama I've seen in years and every time I knew what was going to happen I happily sat back and soaked up the sentiments. Lady Ashley is one brazen, solid, tenacious, heroine who lives by a strict and passionate code which occasionally yields unfortunate yet necessary results. The Drover droves dynamically and thanks to Lady Ashley's inspiration overcomes many of his social phobias eventually maintaining that certain things simply shouldn't be. And it's simply great to watch them ferociously fall in love even though snobby socialites turn up their noses and utter banal witticisms at their expense. An epic tale complete with heartfelt harmonies and progressive social symphonies, Australia may be a bit hard to take at times, but the overall product is downright resilient, all down the line.
A lot of what takes place in Australia is sappy, predictable, and highly melodramatic: but it's the best damned melodrama I've seen in years and every time I knew what was going to happen I happily sat back and soaked up the sentiments. Lady Ashley is one brazen, solid, tenacious, heroine who lives by a strict and passionate code which occasionally yields unfortunate yet necessary results. The Drover droves dynamically and thanks to Lady Ashley's inspiration overcomes many of his social phobias eventually maintaining that certain things simply shouldn't be. And it's simply great to watch them ferociously fall in love even though snobby socialites turn up their noses and utter banal witticisms at their expense. An epic tale complete with heartfelt harmonies and progressive social symphonies, Australia may be a bit hard to take at times, but the overall product is downright resilient, all down the line.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Quantum of Solace
Marc Forster's Quantum of Solace is an excellent example of a film wherein the content does not skillfully match the form. There's a car chase followed by a foot race followed by a boat chase followed by a plane chase with lots of explosions and fighting and flesh. But I've come to expect more from a Bond film, Casino Royale having generated a strong desire to see their dimensions cohesively expand.
And these dimensions do slightly expand, it's just matter of the ways in which they unreel. There's a poignant scene where Felix Leiter (Jeffrey Wright) and Bond (Daniel Craig) exchange chides regarding whose country has exploited impoverished nations more prominently, each drinking away their remorse; the villain (Dominic Greene played by Mathieu Almaric) seeks to control Bolivia's water supply as opposed to their oil, an acknowledgement of the hypothesis that water will be the most sought after resource of the 20th century (and a critique of the privatization of water); villainous Greene seeks the CIA's support in overthrowing the Bolivian Government and states that a pseudo-tyranny is better than having a Marxist distributing oil profits amongst the people, Hugo Chavez's critics placed within a somewhat vituperative frame (the CIA operative who does not support these goals eventually receiving a promotion); and Bond-Girl Camille (Olga Kurylenko) has a disfiguring burn mark on her back (a sign that perhaps Bond girls will slowly stop being played by super models) and valiantly defeats the misogynistic ghoul General Medrano (Joaquín Cosio) during the final battle. At the same time, Dominic Greene is posing as an environmentalist, meaning that while writers Paul Haggis, Neal Purvis, and Robert Wade are deconstructing Bondian motifs, they are still working within their established guidelines (and by doing so subtly promoting centrist politics).
Unfortunately, the film is basically a randy action movie, complete with the aforementioned chase scenes and pandering gratuitous sex (although the pandering nature of this scene may be ironically lampooning fans searching for this kind of thing). The dialogue is strict, reticent, and acute, but often full of clichés and implausible realizations (notably the scene where Greene is introduced and Camille doesn't become irate even though he admits he just tried to have her killed). Greene's introduction works well insofar as he's the film's villain and there's no pomp and circumstance, and his character isn't prominently developed within (meaning that villains perhaps should not receive the same amount of attention as Bond standouts Le Chiffre or Max Zorin). But Bond's character isn't developed either and a lot of the action just shows him having blunt conversations (or not) before he kills someone. True, within he seeks to avenge the death of Casino Royale love interest Vesper Lynd (Eva Green), and providing someone blinded by rage with eloquent, dainty dialogue could slightly diminish this reality. However, this form could mean that the film's uninspired content is meant to connote that if one finds their motivations through revenge, they resoundingly risk living in a quantum of solace.
And these dimensions do slightly expand, it's just matter of the ways in which they unreel. There's a poignant scene where Felix Leiter (Jeffrey Wright) and Bond (Daniel Craig) exchange chides regarding whose country has exploited impoverished nations more prominently, each drinking away their remorse; the villain (Dominic Greene played by Mathieu Almaric) seeks to control Bolivia's water supply as opposed to their oil, an acknowledgement of the hypothesis that water will be the most sought after resource of the 20th century (and a critique of the privatization of water); villainous Greene seeks the CIA's support in overthrowing the Bolivian Government and states that a pseudo-tyranny is better than having a Marxist distributing oil profits amongst the people, Hugo Chavez's critics placed within a somewhat vituperative frame (the CIA operative who does not support these goals eventually receiving a promotion); and Bond-Girl Camille (Olga Kurylenko) has a disfiguring burn mark on her back (a sign that perhaps Bond girls will slowly stop being played by super models) and valiantly defeats the misogynistic ghoul General Medrano (Joaquín Cosio) during the final battle. At the same time, Dominic Greene is posing as an environmentalist, meaning that while writers Paul Haggis, Neal Purvis, and Robert Wade are deconstructing Bondian motifs, they are still working within their established guidelines (and by doing so subtly promoting centrist politics).
Unfortunately, the film is basically a randy action movie, complete with the aforementioned chase scenes and pandering gratuitous sex (although the pandering nature of this scene may be ironically lampooning fans searching for this kind of thing). The dialogue is strict, reticent, and acute, but often full of clichés and implausible realizations (notably the scene where Greene is introduced and Camille doesn't become irate even though he admits he just tried to have her killed). Greene's introduction works well insofar as he's the film's villain and there's no pomp and circumstance, and his character isn't prominently developed within (meaning that villains perhaps should not receive the same amount of attention as Bond standouts Le Chiffre or Max Zorin). But Bond's character isn't developed either and a lot of the action just shows him having blunt conversations (or not) before he kills someone. True, within he seeks to avenge the death of Casino Royale love interest Vesper Lynd (Eva Green), and providing someone blinded by rage with eloquent, dainty dialogue could slightly diminish this reality. However, this form could mean that the film's uninspired content is meant to connote that if one finds their motivations through revenge, they resoundingly risk living in a quantum of solace.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Iron Man
Pretty surprised by Jon Favreau's new flick Iron Man. I was expecting another boring hyped-up piece of sensationalized gobblygook and was pleased to view an entertaining, multidimensional narrative, packed with an explosive punch.
The buzz surrounding Robert Downey Jr.'s performance is bang on: he really is exceptional. The supporting cast is solid as well but it's hard to imagine what this film would have been without Downey's charisma holding it together. In many ways, the plot is quite formulaic with the usual touch of frustrating militaristic bravado. But Favreau skillfully and subtly plays with the ideological conventions built into this formula, delivering a profound critique of its conventions, while reasserting them as well. The four conventions I'd like to examine here are misogyny, the military, individuality, and fantasy, critically cast in a mold of socialist iron.
Note that I've never read the comic book and don't plan on drawing a comparison between the two.
Within action movies, female characters tend to be both beautiful and promiscuous (Bad Bond Girls), or beautiful and somewhat chaste (Miss Moneypenny and Good Bond Girls). Rarely does a female lead who isn't uber-attractive score one of these parts (accept perhaps for Grace Jones), and if they find their way into the film they usually have backup roles (note the woman who looks like a man in Iron Man's opening moments). The male lead sleeps with the bad girl who is aggressive and daring (and consequently evil within the eyes of the patriarchy) in the opening moments and saves his hot feisty encounter with the good-domestic girl until the end of the film (she takes care of the hero and keeps him safe and only receives his affections after he has returned from work [wherein we discover the brilliance underlying the plot of Martin Campbell's Casino Royale]). Within Iron Man, Pepper Pots (Gwyneth Paltrow) keeps Tony Stark's life together while he is busy applying his genius to the production of weapons, and has scruples when it comes to dating her boss. Christine Everhart (Leslie Bibb) critiques Stark's way of life but instantly swoons when propositioned (she was only propositioned because of her looks). Hence, within Iron Man we have traditional eye-dropping superbabes playing stereotypical roles patriarchically carved out for them centuries ago, and the hero manipulates them (sexually with the bad girl, domestically with the good one) while manufacturing weapons to ensure America's global predominance. Simultaneously, however, without the assistance and persistence of these women, Tony Stark's turnaround would not have been possible. Moreover, when he begins to consider that being a Master of War is somewhat scurrilous (I love how the military always takes credit for medical advances, as if there wouldn't be advances in medical technology without war, and as if it doesn't create situations that demand medical advances based upon the catastrophic effects of its designs), it's the 'bad girl' (the independent lefty) who causes him to change his ways and the 'good girl' who has trouble accepting the change (Favreau pointing out the paradox within which the stereotypical good ‘bond-girl’ functions: she feels good serving her Master as long as he's a promiscuous monster and can't deal with the reality brought about by his reversal of fortune [note that his point would have been stronger if both these girls weren't drop-dead gorgeous]).
Manifest Destiny (the world has become the west coast) finds its stripes in the sale of weapons. Tony Stark is appalled to discover that his weapons are being sold to other countries and supporting the terrorist networks he designed them to thwart (how could a genius be that naïve?). He is captured by Afghani rebels, one who saves his life with an ingenious device that hooks his heart up to a car battery. In order to help Tony escape his saviour must die, allegorically pointing out that many foreigners will die in the pursuit of the American dream, even one's who support their interests. Jim Rhodes (Terrence Howard) stands for the military and his character is used to point out how socialist politics have been transferred to it, the united military standing as one, i.e., don't stand as one to receive universal health care, higher wages, and cheaper education, stand as one within the army. Favreau demonstrates how the sale of American weapons throughout the globe supports the terroristic infrastructure they have set out to destroy, while using Tony Stark as a symbol of change, i.e., we need to stop supporting an aggressive military, treating it as if its motives embody a divine altruistic panacea. In order to destroy the weapons he has manufactured, Tony Stark builds another weapon, and his nemesis/quasi-Oedipal foe (Jeff Bridges) points out the irony of his situation during their final battle (by pointing out this irony, Favreau skillfully critiques ideologues who find progressive outcomes through the manufacture of bigger and better weapons [eventually no one will go to war because everyone will have the atomic bomb!]). Within this battle, we have a young, new vision for the military symbolically represented by Tony Stark (the son) fighting against the patriarchal father figure (Obadiah Stane). In the film's concluding moments, the military asks Tony to simply read from a script and not reveal his identity as Iron Man. Instead, he ignores the script and tells the press that he is Iron Man, a bold move, for within comic book fantasies it's usually essential that the hero maintain his or her secret identity. By doing this, Stark deconstructs the fantastic elements of his lifestyle by actually telling the truth to the people, thereby symbolically representing a new, young American political ethos that isn't afraid to acknowledge the brutal contradictions of its imperialist legacy, Favreau championing a future where American political ideals match American political practices. Stark plays by his own rules and doesn't follow the script that has been traditionally cast for him. The main problem with his role is that he is only one man, and in order for universal social programs to be created within the United States the many must align as one in order to demand access to health care, higher wages, and a decrease in their military spending. Stark's character demonstrates the power of American individuality and the progress that can be achieved by individuals willing to stand up to the administration (Martin Luther King, Jr. for instance). Unfortunately, the film ends before we can see whether or not anyone is willing to join him.
Iron Man's central symbol is Tony Stark's heart, a technological circular wonder with a luminescent glow. This heart can be thought of as representing the circular nature of political dynamics, or, the fact that governments throughout the ages have continued to reassert and revitalize peace through military conflict. By including this symbol (and focusing upon it so intently), does Favreau mean that the American political landscape can be revitalized by innovative individuals who no longer support the military, and that if these individuals find their way into the political spectrum, perhaps the circular nature of its imperialist center can in fact begin to embody a glowing peaceful spirit? Or is he just playing with the old stereotypes and trying to make his traditional vision seem innovative by not killing the promiscuous woman and showcasing a hero who isn't afraid of coming out of the closet, in Walter Benjamin's terms, rendering a political situation where the individual can experience their own destruction as a pleasure of the first order? I really don't know, and don't have the time or the money to figure it out, but he has created a multi-layered film that doesn't offer any easy answers and is open to polemical interpretations, made, elfishly, for swingers.
The buzz surrounding Robert Downey Jr.'s performance is bang on: he really is exceptional. The supporting cast is solid as well but it's hard to imagine what this film would have been without Downey's charisma holding it together. In many ways, the plot is quite formulaic with the usual touch of frustrating militaristic bravado. But Favreau skillfully and subtly plays with the ideological conventions built into this formula, delivering a profound critique of its conventions, while reasserting them as well. The four conventions I'd like to examine here are misogyny, the military, individuality, and fantasy, critically cast in a mold of socialist iron.
Note that I've never read the comic book and don't plan on drawing a comparison between the two.
Within action movies, female characters tend to be both beautiful and promiscuous (Bad Bond Girls), or beautiful and somewhat chaste (Miss Moneypenny and Good Bond Girls). Rarely does a female lead who isn't uber-attractive score one of these parts (accept perhaps for Grace Jones), and if they find their way into the film they usually have backup roles (note the woman who looks like a man in Iron Man's opening moments). The male lead sleeps with the bad girl who is aggressive and daring (and consequently evil within the eyes of the patriarchy) in the opening moments and saves his hot feisty encounter with the good-domestic girl until the end of the film (she takes care of the hero and keeps him safe and only receives his affections after he has returned from work [wherein we discover the brilliance underlying the plot of Martin Campbell's Casino Royale]). Within Iron Man, Pepper Pots (Gwyneth Paltrow) keeps Tony Stark's life together while he is busy applying his genius to the production of weapons, and has scruples when it comes to dating her boss. Christine Everhart (Leslie Bibb) critiques Stark's way of life but instantly swoons when propositioned (she was only propositioned because of her looks). Hence, within Iron Man we have traditional eye-dropping superbabes playing stereotypical roles patriarchically carved out for them centuries ago, and the hero manipulates them (sexually with the bad girl, domestically with the good one) while manufacturing weapons to ensure America's global predominance. Simultaneously, however, without the assistance and persistence of these women, Tony Stark's turnaround would not have been possible. Moreover, when he begins to consider that being a Master of War is somewhat scurrilous (I love how the military always takes credit for medical advances, as if there wouldn't be advances in medical technology without war, and as if it doesn't create situations that demand medical advances based upon the catastrophic effects of its designs), it's the 'bad girl' (the independent lefty) who causes him to change his ways and the 'good girl' who has trouble accepting the change (Favreau pointing out the paradox within which the stereotypical good ‘bond-girl’ functions: she feels good serving her Master as long as he's a promiscuous monster and can't deal with the reality brought about by his reversal of fortune [note that his point would have been stronger if both these girls weren't drop-dead gorgeous]).
Manifest Destiny (the world has become the west coast) finds its stripes in the sale of weapons. Tony Stark is appalled to discover that his weapons are being sold to other countries and supporting the terrorist networks he designed them to thwart (how could a genius be that naïve?). He is captured by Afghani rebels, one who saves his life with an ingenious device that hooks his heart up to a car battery. In order to help Tony escape his saviour must die, allegorically pointing out that many foreigners will die in the pursuit of the American dream, even one's who support their interests. Jim Rhodes (Terrence Howard) stands for the military and his character is used to point out how socialist politics have been transferred to it, the united military standing as one, i.e., don't stand as one to receive universal health care, higher wages, and cheaper education, stand as one within the army. Favreau demonstrates how the sale of American weapons throughout the globe supports the terroristic infrastructure they have set out to destroy, while using Tony Stark as a symbol of change, i.e., we need to stop supporting an aggressive military, treating it as if its motives embody a divine altruistic panacea. In order to destroy the weapons he has manufactured, Tony Stark builds another weapon, and his nemesis/quasi-Oedipal foe (Jeff Bridges) points out the irony of his situation during their final battle (by pointing out this irony, Favreau skillfully critiques ideologues who find progressive outcomes through the manufacture of bigger and better weapons [eventually no one will go to war because everyone will have the atomic bomb!]). Within this battle, we have a young, new vision for the military symbolically represented by Tony Stark (the son) fighting against the patriarchal father figure (Obadiah Stane). In the film's concluding moments, the military asks Tony to simply read from a script and not reveal his identity as Iron Man. Instead, he ignores the script and tells the press that he is Iron Man, a bold move, for within comic book fantasies it's usually essential that the hero maintain his or her secret identity. By doing this, Stark deconstructs the fantastic elements of his lifestyle by actually telling the truth to the people, thereby symbolically representing a new, young American political ethos that isn't afraid to acknowledge the brutal contradictions of its imperialist legacy, Favreau championing a future where American political ideals match American political practices. Stark plays by his own rules and doesn't follow the script that has been traditionally cast for him. The main problem with his role is that he is only one man, and in order for universal social programs to be created within the United States the many must align as one in order to demand access to health care, higher wages, and a decrease in their military spending. Stark's character demonstrates the power of American individuality and the progress that can be achieved by individuals willing to stand up to the administration (Martin Luther King, Jr. for instance). Unfortunately, the film ends before we can see whether or not anyone is willing to join him.
Iron Man's central symbol is Tony Stark's heart, a technological circular wonder with a luminescent glow. This heart can be thought of as representing the circular nature of political dynamics, or, the fact that governments throughout the ages have continued to reassert and revitalize peace through military conflict. By including this symbol (and focusing upon it so intently), does Favreau mean that the American political landscape can be revitalized by innovative individuals who no longer support the military, and that if these individuals find their way into the political spectrum, perhaps the circular nature of its imperialist center can in fact begin to embody a glowing peaceful spirit? Or is he just playing with the old stereotypes and trying to make his traditional vision seem innovative by not killing the promiscuous woman and showcasing a hero who isn't afraid of coming out of the closet, in Walter Benjamin's terms, rendering a political situation where the individual can experience their own destruction as a pleasure of the first order? I really don't know, and don't have the time or the money to figure it out, but he has created a multi-layered film that doesn't offer any easy answers and is open to polemical interpretations, made, elfishly, for swingers.
Be Kind Rewind
In Michel Gondry's Be Kind Rewind, two down on their luck eccentric individuals decide it's time to sabotage a local power plant. Jerry (Jack Black) is convinced that the government is using that power plant to manipulate minds, and, ironically enough, after Mike (Mos Def) abandons him during the act, a bolt of electromagnetic something or other blasts him, magnetizing his brain. Which wouldn't be all that bad, but Mike works at Be Kind Rewind, a struggling video store in New Jersey which only has two months to bring its building up to code and avoid demolition. Jerry's new brain erases all of Be Kind's inventory, leaving them with only one way to get around bothering vacationing store owner Mr. Fletcher (Danny Glover) with the bad news: create their own home videos as quickly as they can and supply them to their customers as alternative versions (what they call "sweded") of their favourite films. At first the idea seems ludicrous, but as Ghostbusters, Robocop, and Rush Hour II come off without a hitch, their revolutionary idea pulls ahead full-throttle.
Be Kind Rewind seems ridiculous but its intellectual salute to forms of disenfranchised discourse demonstrates how the poor can take back the means of production and forge for themselves a dignified existence, where their insights and means of expression matter (a manifestation of what Žižek refers to as 'The Art of the Ridiculous Sublime'). It’s slightly off-beat but ludicrously effectively, emphasizing the value of friendship and the benefits of creativity.
Be Kind Rewind seems ridiculous but its intellectual salute to forms of disenfranchised discourse demonstrates how the poor can take back the means of production and forge for themselves a dignified existence, where their insights and means of expression matter (a manifestation of what Žižek refers to as 'The Art of the Ridiculous Sublime'). It’s slightly off-beat but ludicrously effectively, emphasizing the value of friendship and the benefits of creativity.
Persepolis
The film adaptation of Marjane Satrapi's autobiographical graphic novel series Persepolis is bold, challenging, touching, and full of life. Growing up in Iran during the 70s and 80s, Satrapi bears witness to the effects wrought upon her culture by the Islamic Revolution and Iran's war with Iraq. Difficult choices must be made: Satrapi's parents decide to stay in Iran rather than move away and find menial work; parties must still be attended to maintain some semblance of sanity, although being caught drunk or in possession of alcohol leads to severe punishment; upholding one's beliefs when they oppose the government's doctrines leads to imprisonment, torture, death and/or exile; and absurd rules develop governing the public relationships between women and men, one of which tricks Satrapi into a hasty marriage. She spends much of her childhood isolated while studying in Vienna and eventually returns home. But after a number of years back in Iran, her national spirit is crushed by an absurd brand of patriotism, and she leaves for France once and for all.
Directed by Satrapi and Vincent Paronnoud, Persepolis presents an enormous number of poignant insights regarding life as one tries to live it. For instance, dating can be problematic, attempting to promote your ideals when they differ from those of the dominant regime, difficult, international political realities which colonially structure your culture's post-revolutionary life, shitty, living as a boarder in a foreign country where you have no finances, complicated. Fortunately for Satrapi, she has a loving supportive family and a feisty independent Grandmother who help her along the way, assisting her spirits in overcoming the bitterness.
The realities Persepolis presents are harsh but the manner in which they are presented is tranquil, playful, passive (the animation is very cute and homely). At first glance, it seems as if the form employed by Persepolis directly contradicts the subject matter, but I'm convinced that this form is used in order to promote the 'don't-lose-hope-and-become-bitter' message that can also be found within Paradise Now. Even when faced with harsh political realities, it is important to continue to notice the sublime, whether it's the sun's rays striking through an unusually corrugated cloud formation, or a soldier willing to bend the rules, letting you off for some minor malfeasance (carrying a particularly unproportional penalty). Of course, this is very, very, hard, to do. Thus, as Satrapi's scrappy grandma states, you must be strong, and can't let the judgments of your surrounding community destabilize your confidence.
Persepolis also does what few films (apart from Goodbye Lenin) currently do: it employs a subtext which places socialism in a positive light. It’s refreshing to see a film which doesn't shy away from socialist politics, astutely reminding the public that capitalists cannot function without your labour.
A surprisingly acute examination of what it's like to mature on the Iranian left, Persepolis reminds us that going about this business of living requires a firm constitution that can absorb various contradictory actions as new circumstances challenge and reconstruct its integrity. Ignore the stereotypes, critically challenge, live, love, laugh, subvert, grow. Who knows, certainly not Satrapi, but she is curious enough to try and find out, which makes her adventure worth discovering.
Directed by Satrapi and Vincent Paronnoud, Persepolis presents an enormous number of poignant insights regarding life as one tries to live it. For instance, dating can be problematic, attempting to promote your ideals when they differ from those of the dominant regime, difficult, international political realities which colonially structure your culture's post-revolutionary life, shitty, living as a boarder in a foreign country where you have no finances, complicated. Fortunately for Satrapi, she has a loving supportive family and a feisty independent Grandmother who help her along the way, assisting her spirits in overcoming the bitterness.
The realities Persepolis presents are harsh but the manner in which they are presented is tranquil, playful, passive (the animation is very cute and homely). At first glance, it seems as if the form employed by Persepolis directly contradicts the subject matter, but I'm convinced that this form is used in order to promote the 'don't-lose-hope-and-become-bitter' message that can also be found within Paradise Now. Even when faced with harsh political realities, it is important to continue to notice the sublime, whether it's the sun's rays striking through an unusually corrugated cloud formation, or a soldier willing to bend the rules, letting you off for some minor malfeasance (carrying a particularly unproportional penalty). Of course, this is very, very, hard, to do. Thus, as Satrapi's scrappy grandma states, you must be strong, and can't let the judgments of your surrounding community destabilize your confidence.
Persepolis also does what few films (apart from Goodbye Lenin) currently do: it employs a subtext which places socialism in a positive light. It’s refreshing to see a film which doesn't shy away from socialist politics, astutely reminding the public that capitalists cannot function without your labour.
A surprisingly acute examination of what it's like to mature on the Iranian left, Persepolis reminds us that going about this business of living requires a firm constitution that can absorb various contradictory actions as new circumstances challenge and reconstruct its integrity. Ignore the stereotypes, critically challenge, live, love, laugh, subvert, grow. Who knows, certainly not Satrapi, but she is curious enough to try and find out, which makes her adventure worth discovering.
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