Since this blog is dedicated to those seeking to discover/uncover interesting cinema (and the enduring career of Sigourney Weaver) (and let's throw in the GLBTs I guess---yes, that includes allies. I forgot that goddamn long acronym, something like MGLBTQAXXX), I decided to avoid a continuing list of the best and worst type forum and simply discuss what I've watched as I go along, and, get this, I would title each blog entry with clever references to the better/more exciting selections I've watched. My aim is to revolutionize this medium known as the blog. Small steps, my friends. Baby steps.
Two recent titles over the past week that I've had the pleasure to catch were Francois Ozon's Under the Sand (2000) and a movie night screening, Donkey Punch (2008).
Under the Sand
Francois Ozon stands as one of my absolute favorite directors, not to mention one of the best things to come out of France since creme brulee. A diverse and compelling auteur (yes, he is) Ozon has sparked his own term to describe his work. Ozon, who I believe is an openly gay filmmaker, often presents a dark and subversive portrait with whatever the subject happens to be. I wouldn't say his body of work is overly queer, but if ever one could point to the oft mentioned queer sensibility, Ozon has it. I do have a problem with what critics call "Ozonian," as I believe the filmmaker himself has developed several distinct styles, depending on the genre he is playing with. (It bugs me how anything even slightly unnerving or eerie in film is automatically referred to as Hitchcockian---lazy, lazy). What else I love about Ozon is that he has a very obvious passion for actresses---French ones, in particular, of course. So with films like 8 Women (2002), and his trio of films with Charlotte Rampling, I can't help but love his work. Ozon's latest work, Angel (2007), hasn't been that warmly received. His second English speaking feature, the film stars Romola Garai and features Rampling and Sam Neill. The film felt anything but that vague term, Ozonian. I didn't care for it, per se, but it was far from awful. Anyhow, surprisingly, for as much as I seek out his work, I hadn't seen his most critically acclaimed film, Under the Sand, the film that I believe sealed his reputation as a certifiable force to reckon with in the art-house scene, and also gave Charlotte Rampling the most attention she had received for quite some time. She would get even more attention in the excellent Swimming Pool (2003). Anyhow, for a film that Ingmar Bergman said he could watch everyday, I surprised myself by putting this off for so long. And I was not disappointed. When Ozon does drama, he is subtle, but quietly devastating. While watching Under the Sand, I realized that Ozon must find something intriguing or perhaps engulfing about the sea, or large bodies of water. The ocean features prominently as a destructive force or a type of burial ground in two other excellent dramas, See the Sea (1997) and Time to Leave (2005).
Rampling's performance is both expressive and subtlety intense as a woman who, while on vacation with her husband, wakes up on the beach to discover her husband of 25 years has disappeared. The film is an exercise in grief and despair at the loss of a loved one. The film is tender and heartbreaking as we follow Rampling pretending to herself that her husband is still alive. She continually refers to him in the present tense, even though she begins a haphazard relationship with the friend of a friend, portrayed by the excellent Jacques Nolot, an excellent filmmaker in his own right. (Nolot directed his own trilogy of loosely themed films, known, I believe as a kind of gay trilogy---the most accessible to see in the US is Porn Theater - 2002).
One of my favorite scenes from Under the Sand is when Nolot and Rampling are on a date. Her character is a professor of literature and she just happens to be teaching Virginia Woolf's exercise in grief, The Waves. For anyone who has read Woolf, it's a difficult but rewarding experience. For those of you who love interconnecting themes, my pulse quickened at the hint of Woolf, and in particular, this novel. The Waves was an experiment in form for Woolf, and is about a group of characters' personal soliloquies dealing with the death of a close friend. Waves of grief and waves on the beach, I ate this shit up. Additionally, Woolf wrote this experimental novel when she apparently was at the height of an intense affair with Vita Sackville-West. As a strong proponent of queer theory, (for those in the know), I believe Under the Sand has quite a lot offer for a queer reading. The presence of Nolot, Ozon and Woolf make for more than a simple Ozonian narrative---and then pair this with Time to Leave---and I smell another thesis.......
Back to that scene---Rampling eloquently, in English, recites Virginia Woolf's suicide note. I believe I had to pause the film and re-watch that scene. This wasn't easy, dear readers, as my copy is VHS. I will be re buying this one in the correct format, btw. And Rampling, btw, looks AMAZING for her age (and still does). Her beauty, which is still breathtaking, is amazing to see over her long career (see her as viperous bitch in Georgy Girl - 1966 and avoid Basic Instinct II -- 2006, she just needed a paycheck). In the end, if there is such a thing as Ozonian pleasure, this film is the ticket. And I would love to have a dose everyday.
Contemporary Sexploitation
Yes, my avid followers will see that I recently had a movie night which included Donkey Punch. I was pleasantly surprised with Oliver Blackburn's feature film debut, and it is a fun little romp to sit through with a group of friends. At moments intense and also irritating, the film is virtually a throwback to those fun, gritty, misogynistic horror films from the 1970's, an era that filmmakers seem oh so desperate to return to. Alas, it is not the 1970's anymore and the world is changing. Kudos to Blackburn, who takes the sexploitation angle and makes it at least entertaining. Several times during my viewing of this film I did become slightly nostalgic for I Spit On Your Grave (1978) and Last House on the Left (1972). While Donkey Punch fails to empower it's female victims (the poor things make stupid choices all the way to the end), it's at least a decent homage to what's come before. The title, of course, refers to a violent, sadistic sexual "maneuver," that as one character points out in the film, is realistically one of those urban legends that everyone talks about but never has experienced (e.g., a Dirty Sanchez, felching, etc.) Needless to say, a nubile young man performs a donkey punch, accidentally killing one of the film's three female characters. And yes, the real heroine ends up being the young woman that kept her pants on. Very Jamie-Lee Curtis. The film, as most in the genre, does not paint men in a complimentary light, both in their relation to women and to each other. And you can't help but cheer at a fun moment involving a flare gun. I don't believe that will spoil anything in this devilish little feature. Go see it if you get the chance. By the way, I am not a misogynist. Check out my interests in my profile if you don't believe me.
Two recent titles over the past week that I've had the pleasure to catch were Francois Ozon's Under the Sand (2000) and a movie night screening, Donkey Punch (2008).
Under the Sand
Francois Ozon stands as one of my absolute favorite directors, not to mention one of the best things to come out of France since creme brulee. A diverse and compelling auteur (yes, he is) Ozon has sparked his own term to describe his work. Ozon, who I believe is an openly gay filmmaker, often presents a dark and subversive portrait with whatever the subject happens to be. I wouldn't say his body of work is overly queer, but if ever one could point to the oft mentioned queer sensibility, Ozon has it. I do have a problem with what critics call "Ozonian," as I believe the filmmaker himself has developed several distinct styles, depending on the genre he is playing with. (It bugs me how anything even slightly unnerving or eerie in film is automatically referred to as Hitchcockian---lazy, lazy). What else I love about Ozon is that he has a very obvious passion for actresses---French ones, in particular, of course. So with films like 8 Women (2002), and his trio of films with Charlotte Rampling, I can't help but love his work. Ozon's latest work, Angel (2007), hasn't been that warmly received. His second English speaking feature, the film stars Romola Garai and features Rampling and Sam Neill. The film felt anything but that vague term, Ozonian. I didn't care for it, per se, but it was far from awful. Anyhow, surprisingly, for as much as I seek out his work, I hadn't seen his most critically acclaimed film, Under the Sand, the film that I believe sealed his reputation as a certifiable force to reckon with in the art-house scene, and also gave Charlotte Rampling the most attention she had received for quite some time. She would get even more attention in the excellent Swimming Pool (2003). Anyhow, for a film that Ingmar Bergman said he could watch everyday, I surprised myself by putting this off for so long. And I was not disappointed. When Ozon does drama, he is subtle, but quietly devastating. While watching Under the Sand, I realized that Ozon must find something intriguing or perhaps engulfing about the sea, or large bodies of water. The ocean features prominently as a destructive force or a type of burial ground in two other excellent dramas, See the Sea (1997) and Time to Leave (2005).
Rampling's performance is both expressive and subtlety intense as a woman who, while on vacation with her husband, wakes up on the beach to discover her husband of 25 years has disappeared. The film is an exercise in grief and despair at the loss of a loved one. The film is tender and heartbreaking as we follow Rampling pretending to herself that her husband is still alive. She continually refers to him in the present tense, even though she begins a haphazard relationship with the friend of a friend, portrayed by the excellent Jacques Nolot, an excellent filmmaker in his own right. (Nolot directed his own trilogy of loosely themed films, known, I believe as a kind of gay trilogy---the most accessible to see in the US is Porn Theater - 2002).
One of my favorite scenes from Under the Sand is when Nolot and Rampling are on a date. Her character is a professor of literature and she just happens to be teaching Virginia Woolf's exercise in grief, The Waves. For anyone who has read Woolf, it's a difficult but rewarding experience. For those of you who love interconnecting themes, my pulse quickened at the hint of Woolf, and in particular, this novel. The Waves was an experiment in form for Woolf, and is about a group of characters' personal soliloquies dealing with the death of a close friend. Waves of grief and waves on the beach, I ate this shit up. Additionally, Woolf wrote this experimental novel when she apparently was at the height of an intense affair with Vita Sackville-West. As a strong proponent of queer theory, (for those in the know), I believe Under the Sand has quite a lot offer for a queer reading. The presence of Nolot, Ozon and Woolf make for more than a simple Ozonian narrative---and then pair this with Time to Leave---and I smell another thesis.......
Back to that scene---Rampling eloquently, in English, recites Virginia Woolf's suicide note. I believe I had to pause the film and re-watch that scene. This wasn't easy, dear readers, as my copy is VHS. I will be re buying this one in the correct format, btw. And Rampling, btw, looks AMAZING for her age (and still does). Her beauty, which is still breathtaking, is amazing to see over her long career (see her as viperous bitch in Georgy Girl - 1966 and avoid Basic Instinct II -- 2006, she just needed a paycheck). In the end, if there is such a thing as Ozonian pleasure, this film is the ticket. And I would love to have a dose everyday.
Contemporary Sexploitation
Yes, my avid followers will see that I recently had a movie night which included Donkey Punch. I was pleasantly surprised with Oliver Blackburn's feature film debut, and it is a fun little romp to sit through with a group of friends. At moments intense and also irritating, the film is virtually a throwback to those fun, gritty, misogynistic horror films from the 1970's, an era that filmmakers seem oh so desperate to return to. Alas, it is not the 1970's anymore and the world is changing. Kudos to Blackburn, who takes the sexploitation angle and makes it at least entertaining. Several times during my viewing of this film I did become slightly nostalgic for I Spit On Your Grave (1978) and Last House on the Left (1972). While Donkey Punch fails to empower it's female victims (the poor things make stupid choices all the way to the end), it's at least a decent homage to what's come before. The title, of course, refers to a violent, sadistic sexual "maneuver," that as one character points out in the film, is realistically one of those urban legends that everyone talks about but never has experienced (e.g., a Dirty Sanchez, felching, etc.) Needless to say, a nubile young man performs a donkey punch, accidentally killing one of the film's three female characters. And yes, the real heroine ends up being the young woman that kept her pants on. Very Jamie-Lee Curtis. The film, as most in the genre, does not paint men in a complimentary light, both in their relation to women and to each other. And you can't help but cheer at a fun moment involving a flare gun. I don't believe that will spoil anything in this devilish little feature. Go see it if you get the chance. By the way, I am not a misogynist. Check out my interests in my profile if you don't believe me.
No comments:
Post a Comment