Monday, January 3, 2011

Michael Bay Is An Asshat: The Nature of Art

So here I am, moseying about the interwebnets, gazing at pictures from my favorite movies, reading some amusing dialogue from Overheard in New York, and generally having no life outside of my computer, when I come across this charming little quote:

"It's easy to go shoot an art movie in a winery in the South of France. But people have no idea how hard it is to create something like Transformers." - Michael Bay

Now, I'm not a huge "art film" lover. One, because a lot of so-called "art films" do come off as fucking pretentious, and two, because I look at movies in general as an artistic medium. Calling something an "art film" implies that movies of other genres somehow aren't art just because they don't involve cleverly placed metaphors and a hand held camera set to black and white. A flick doesn't have to be some eloquently pieced together existentialist commentary on the futility and/or beauty of existence in order to be classified as "art".

But I digress.

Regardless of my general dislike for "art films", my first reaction to Michael Bay's statement was something along the lines of 'way to belittle an entire genre due to your own shortcomings, you unoriginal box office whore. Go masturbate to Armageddon and shut the fuck up'.

But then I thought about it. I thought about the words "it's easy to go shoot an art movie", and I came to the conclusion that he's right. Kind of. Maybe.

What Bay said - when looked at literally - is correct, along with being sickeningly arrogant. I dislike the man and I don't think he deserves to be regarded as a gifted or particularly important figure in movie history.

But the words "shooting an art movie is easy" are true. It is easy to make an art film. What isn't easy is making a good art film.

See, art is such a difficult thing to define that nearly anything can be considered art. Honestly, anyone can be an artist. That's easy. But it's not easy to create art that is skillful, meaningful, and ultimately worthwhile.

There will always be artists that are pretentious douchebags, and having to deal with them is an unfortunate aspect of being involved in any art community, no matter the medium (in this case, it just happens to be movies). But at the same time, there needs to be bad art. If there weren't, good art wouldn't really matter. People would say "oh, yeah, Billy painted a masterpiece today" the same way they "oh, yeah, Billy put on his pants without falling down". People would stop giving a shit quality.

Sorry for going off on a bit of a tangent regarding my views on art, but holy fuck, it's these shitty, misinformed statements that really get my brain cooking. It pissed me off when I first read it, but I wouldn't let myself comment on it until I'd thought about why exactly it irked me so much. I don't consider myself an authority on art, nor am I particularly educated in the way of "art films", but anyone who shit-talks an entire genre 'cause they're feeling "underappreciated" really needs to shove their foot down their throat and think a little before they start flapping their filthy rich lips.


michael-bay4.jpg

Rich whiney cunt.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Romper Stomper vs. American History X



WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS SPOILERS. SRSLY.

I recently rented Romper Stomper (1992). The first time I saw it was years ago. I remember seeing it on the shelf and thinking two things:

1) RussellCroweRussellCroweRussellCrowe, and

2) "romper stomper" sounds like one awesome move to break out at the next school dance while all the kiddies be grindin'.

But soon I was to find out that this wasn't the Russell Crowe I'd grown to froth at the mouth over (he's a superb actor, but never had I seen him quite like this), and that no, "romper stomper" is not something I want to break out in a gymnasium sagging with streamers and construction paper hearts/pumpkins/clovers/stars/awkwardly phallic pieces of Christmas candy. Not at all.
Romper Stomper turned out to be one of the most disturbing and substantial films I have ever seen.

Of course, the fact that the main characters in Romper Stomper are Neo-Nazi skinheads led me to automatically compare it to other "Nazi movies" I'd seen, such as The Believer (2001) , White Lies (1998) (clever title, yes?), This Is England (2006) (WATCH IT), and American History X (1998).

Up until then, I'd thought of American History X not only as the best movie to tackle the whole "Nazis are people too" theme, but also as one of the best movies period. Since then, my opinion has changed in regards to both. But I'm still compelled to compare American History X and Romper Stomper, even though their similarities pretty much end after the observation "they both got Nazis".

If thou hast not seen either of these films, and thou hatest spoilers as much as I, henceforth no further yonder chap sir (read: stop reading).

Where American History X is artistic, Romper Stomper is uncomfortably realistic. Where American History X plays dramatic background music as it pulls away from actually showing a hate crime, Romper Stomper sticks with filming the gruesome violence head-on, accompanied by stark silence that is disrupted only by the sound of breaking bones, labored breathing, and hate speech. Where American History X's main character - Derek Vineyard - conveniently sees the error of his bigoted ways (in prison, no less), Romper Stomper's psychotic antihero Hando fiercely adheres to his self righteous hatred 'til the end.

I've always thought of Romper Stomper as the superior film. Don't get me wrong, American History X is fantastic. It's strangely gorgeous, manages to inject hope into a seemingly hopeless storyline, and all the while comes off as surprisingly eloquent.

But that's the problem, isn't it? Racism is not gorgeous, hatred is not hopeful, and violence is certainly not eloquent. And while people really can, and do, change for the better (Nazi to "good guy", even), they just tend not to do so quite as easily as American History X wishes they would.

Derek Vineyard (played by Edward Norton), is an intelligent man. But that intelligence is steered in a dangerous direction when his father dies because of some non-whites, and Derek ends up adopting a racist dogma that leads him to use his intelligence and charisma to enlist new recruits in the White Pride/Fuck Everyone Else movement.

But the real clusterfuck begins when some black men attempt to steal Derek's car, and Derek responds by forcing one of the men - at gunpoint - to put his teeth on the curb in front of his house and stay there as Derek stomps on the back of his head (a practice aptly titled "curb-stomping"). A brutal act? Yes. But did the makers of this flick film it as such? Not really. They would have to of actually filmed it in the first place for that to have been possible.

Anyway, our poor little Nazi boy Derek goes to prison. He falls in with some fellow "White Nationalists" - I assume they're meant to be the Aryan Brotherhood - and cozies in. But when he discovers that his White brothers are doing business with some inmates of color, Derek is displeased. See, he's a true racist, not just some impressionable fuck who's in it for the parties and sense of belonging. He actually believes in what he's been saying.

So Derek gets pissy. Then Derek gets raped.

His fellow Aryans take it upon themselves to teach Derek a lesson by assaulting him in the prison shower. When Derek is finally up to moving about again, he doesn't join up with whitey anymore. Instead, he befriends the black dude that he does laundry with and starts playing basketball with some ethnic inmates.

Where has his belief gone? Well, I guess he had a change of heart.

What, you thought it was hard to change someone's entire way of looking at the world in the space of a few weeks?

He's really a sweet guy!


I kid, I kid. But really, regardless of all the great things about American History X, something about it simply does not ring true for me. And the tragic - though somewhat predictable - ending doesn't help. Sure, I was moved when I first saw Derek's mini-skinhead brother slain by a gun-wielding black kid in a fantastic display of poetic justice, and still am. But at the same time, it leans a tiny bit too close to saying "why can't we all just get along?" or "think of the children!". American History X just tries too hard to offer answers to mind-numbingly hard questions.

Romper Stomper, on the other hand, has no answers. It starts with violence, it ends with violence. There are a few subtle moments of tenderness throughout (Hando affectionately scratching Davey's shaved head at the bar, becoming an older brother of sorts to Bubs, the littlest Nazi, etc.), but overall it's an incredibly brutal movie. Painfully real. While watching Romper Stomper, I feel mesmerized, yet disgusted. Fascinated, but repulsed.

Technically, it is not the most violent movie I've seen. But it feels as though it is, because the violence it contains is so frank, so cold. Some may watch Romper Stomper and cry "gratuitous violence". But if you're telling the story of a violent gang of Neo-Nazis who commit hate crimes like most commit jaywalking, wouldn't toning down the violence be, I dunno...dishonest? A sanitized reality tailored for mainstream taste?

I don't think Romper Stomper's corrosive protagonist (antagonist?) Hando would approve.

Hando, who is played brilliantly by Russell Crowe (before anyone in America knew who the fuck he was), is a psychopath. He appears stoic one moment, furious the next, ready to kill someone with his bare hands at the sight of slanty-eyes. He must prevent racial blood poisoning, he must protect his family and his country. His hatred is so pure, it's seductive.

Intellectually, I know he is wrong. But oh, how I wish he were right, because then I would be free to give in to his stirring-yet-skewed belief system, and become a part of his inner circle. A snarling, cackling "family" brimming with animal loyalty, and brandishing a sense of security that only the most limited, simplistic, and wrong bodies of thought can encourage. Know thy enemy, and you are correct in all you do.


I love that Romper Stomper doesn't discourage or encourage excessive violence or Nazism. It simply presents a story as realistically as it can. No flashbacks on sleek, black and white film. No insightful essays or romanticism can be found within the script or the performances. Just a short, violent story, and the opportunity for you to draw your own damn conclusions.

American History X is beautiful and touching. It makes me want to cry. Romper Stomper makes me want to snarl.

Thursday, July 30, 2009

A Moment's Pause: Marlon Brando (1924 - 2004)


"I daresay anything can be made holy by being sincerely worshiped."
- Iris Murdoch

Monday, July 27, 2009

Rescuing Soldier Ryan vs. Saving Private Ryan: Which One Is More Lulzworthy?


So I'm on some forum talking about some movies and whether it's alright for movies to sacrifice historical accuracy for the sake of entertainment (ie: 300) when this person (perhaps a foreigner?) comes in and makes a reference to the historical accuracy of the film Rescuing Soldier Ryan.

I scrolled past the post.

I scrolled back up.

I read it again.

I lol'ed.

And then I said "Do you mean Saving Private Ryan?" To which they responded "NO, RESCUING SOLDIER RYAN!!".

Well then. Um...



o_O

Anyway, Saving Private Ryan (1998) is a truly amazing movie. The scene depicting the massacre on Omaha beach (which lasts roughly twenty-seven minutes) is arguably one of the most powerful sequences in film. Period.

As for Rescuing Soldier Ryan, I bet it's nothing compared to the sequel: Rescuing Soldier Ryan 2: Electric German Boogaloo.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

300: Part Deux a.k.a. Fuck This Shit

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGE!

WARNING: SPOILERS IF YOU'RE POP-CULTURE RETARDED AND HAVEN'T SEEN 300


I liked 300. Not in a teary-eyed, shit my pants, jump up and down and quote the movie for way longer than anyone should kinda way, but I liked it. It was a super epic, stylized, violent, fun thing to watch. That being said...

Zack Snyder told IGN that he's looking into making a sequel to 300. That's right. A sequel to the movie that ended with the main character being shot to death by arrows. Does anyone else sense some cognitive fucking dissonance going on?

The only potential saving grace of this thing is the fact that Mr. Snyder wants to wait for Frank Miller to finish another Spartan-inspired graphic novel before he moves on with the movie. In this way, the sequel would also be based on a Frank Miller book, just like the original. How quaint.

But this really doesn't comfort me. Why? 'Cause Frank Miller would essentially be creating a graphic novel for the sake of it being made into a movie. Which means he wouldn't be his usual, awesome, I'm-Frank-Miller-And-I-Own-Your-Face self. Zack, direct whatever piece of shit sequel you want, just DON'T TAKE MY FRANKIE DOWN WITH YOU!

Just to clarify: It's not that I lack faith in Miller's story-telling ability. It's that I lack faith in sequels in general. Honestly, whatever Miller comes up with will probably be damn cool. The movie? I dunno.

(AN: Again, for those of you who are pop culture retarded, Frank Miller is the dude behind Sin City. Yeah. Who's your daddy now, bitch?)

Why the fuck do they have to milk every single little successful movie nowadays? Why? I mean, the movie industry has always been just that - an industry. But it's like they're running out of friggin' ideas. "Oh, let's make another sequel/remake/biopic piece of shit because we can't think of anything else!"

Sure, every once in a while you get The Godfather: Part II, but in general sequels suck. Suck. SUCK I SAY!!!

Here's hoping Zacky boy proves me wrong. Hey, maybe it'll even be some cool stylized historical deal. But for now: Fuck you, movie industry. Fuck. You.

Out.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

"Bram Stoker's Dracula": An Exercise In WTF-ery.


WARNING: SPOILER-Y AS FUCK.


Just watched "Bram Stoker's Dracula" for the first time. Released in 1992, directed by Francis Ford Coppola ("The Godfather", "Apocolypse Now"), and starring Gary Oldman, Sir Anthony Hopkins, Winona Ryder and Keanu Reeves, this movie is somewhat of a cult classic, a featured flick on vampire lovers' favorites list for years.

I'm actually kind of surprised it took me this long to watch the damn thing, seeing as I've been very much aware of its existence for years now, and I'll sit through anything to get a glimpse of Gary Oldman doing his thang (yeah, that's right, white boy's got a thang). Casting him as Count Dracula was a fucking win, as was casting Anthony Hopkins as Prof. Abraham Van Helsing.

But it seems that every epic win must be accompanied by an epic fail, for Keanu Reeves has a significant role as Jonathan Harker. And Keanu Reeves is a talentless piece of inexplicably-successful shit. Winona Ryder ain't that great either, but at least she's got "Edward Scissorhands" and "Girl, Interrupted" under her belt, amirite?

As for "Dracula", it's not one of my favorites movies, but I'm glad I watched it (and will probably watch it again). It has some great visuals (the unnatural shadows, Dracula crawling across the exterior of the castle, redhead chick getting fucked by werewolf-Dracula-thingy), and I gotta say I loved the scene where Dracula goes into Mina's room in the form of green mist and they get all freaky with some bloodplay. Their fucked up little love story tugged at my heartstrings, and in the end, I was totally rooting for Dracula over that uptight prick Jonathan. Maybe it's 'cause Dracula's got some 18th century King of Funk thing going on:

P-I-M-P.

I'm unsure whether the camp factor of this film was due to the time in which it was made, or if it was on purpose. The color palette was all over the place (again, not sure if that was on purpose or not), making it a little "jesusfuckingwhattheshitamIlookingat "-y. Blue flame, green mist, technicolor-red blood, et cetera. Evidently, the Undead have a penchant for dropping a little E before they, y'know...feast on the blood of humans and shit.

Sir Anthony Hopkins is also sweet as Van Helsing, a professor who weilds his crucifix like Patrick Bateman weilds an axe. He also has a pseudo-lecherous, brilliant-yet-crazed thing going on. He made my skin crawl ever-so-slightly. Of course, that may just be the fact that religion scares the shit outta me.

The effects of too much Bible study.

But even with all this cool, drugged-up and tweaked-out vampness, I had a hard time getting over Keanu Reeves and his lethargic, check-out-my-one-"compelling"-facial-expression bullshit. This guy fucking sucks. I'm vaguely offended by the idea of him even peripherally showing up in the same movie with the likes of Gary Oldman and Sir Anthony Hopkins.

Go film a couple more "Matrix" sequels and die, asshole.

In conclusion, I liked it. Long live Gary Oldman, and may Mr. Reeves recieve a thorough beheading someday soon.

Out.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Zombieland and Woody Harrelson Love


I'm not even going to pretend that this trailer doesn't give me a big 'ol zombie-lovin' movie-goin' boner.

Zombies are awesome. If you disagree, then you are not awesome. I mean, you are allowed to have your opinion, but you're also allowed to be really fucking wrong.

Funny how that works, ennit?

But fact is, even if you're a complete douchecanoe and don't love zombies, you still pretty much have to be looking forward to this movie. Why? 'Cause it not only has zombies, but it has Bill Murray as a zombie. Now, am I the only one currently replaying the movie "What About Bob?" with an alternate ending in which Bill Murray, y'know...eats Richard Dreyfuss' brains?

I am?

Okay, whatever. Be lame. I'll be living it up with Zombie Bob.

Heh. Anyway.

So, another reason this movie looks freakin' sweet is 'cause Woody Harrelson stars as a zombie killer named Tallahassee. And he wears a cowboy hat. And he's Woody Harrelson. See, I've had a creeper crush on Harrelson ever since "Natural Born Killers".




"Natural Born Killers" was pretty much the first film to truly take advantage of Harrelson's best feature: his crazymotherfucker eyes.

Honestly, look into them baby blues and tell me you don't feel a chill up your spine. Dude already looked fucking psychotic, Oliver Stone's bloody masterpiece of a film just brought it to life when he cast him as Mickey Knox, America's favorite white trash serial killer.

If you haven't seen "Natural Born Killers", watch it. Now. Stop reading this blog, and fucking watch it.

It has Juliette Lewis as Mallory Knox, crazy bitch extraordinairre.

It also has Robert Downey, Jr. as a smarmy media personality with an Australian accent.

And it has a brief but significant cameo from Rodney Dangerfield.


Shit. Talk about crazymotherfucker eyes.

Okay, okay, so I've only just seen the trailer for "Zombieland". I've (surprisingly) never heard anything about it before today, and I'm probably blowing my uber-fan load way too early on this one.

Many films have a sad and annoying habit of having awesome trailers and sucking when you watch the whole thing. It's like the movie advertisers take all the best bits from the movie and edit it into three minutes or less of awesomeness, therefore luring an unsuspecting public into wasting their money on one epic fail of a flick.

Fucking letdown.

But, hey, my spirit hasn't been completely broken by the film industry quite yet, so I think I'll give this one a chance. It looks funny. It looks pseudo-gruesome. I'm psyched.

And if it turns out to be a shitstorm of letdown, then I'll just rent "28 Days Later" and cry a little.


Fuck. Tell me that man does not look like a killer.

Out.