Movie Ratings

I'm going to count down from my least favorite of the films that we watched to my favorite.

10. Freaks - The only reason that Freaks was my least favorite is that I completely missed that unit somehow. So I cannot fairly rank it. So, I guess now I can get onto my actual ranking.

9. Awara - While I did enjoy watching Awara, it was kind of hard to actually get through. Between the dream sequence and the super-cheesiness it just wasn't quite as good as the majority of things we watched.

8. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly - Okay, so I know this film is supposed to be the best one or whatever and all, but I didn't care too much for it. I know that its length was due to awesome camera-work and tons of detail, but it just got pretty boring after a while. I mean, it would break free from that for a bit, but then it went right back to being boring.

7. Sherlock Jr. - I thought Sherlock Jr. was fantastic and really clever and funny. The only reason it's not higher on my list is because I enjoyed the other films more. But this one was great.

6. Killer of Sheep - I put Killer of Sheep at number six, mostly because of its importance. I thought it was really new and refreshing, and although it was not filled filled with action/drama/what-have-you, it was fun to watch for other reasons.

5. The Vanishing - This film was terrifying and great. I'm still worried about every person that I love being abducted and buried alive. Maybe not the buried alive part, but you get my point.

4. My Own Private Idaho - This film, from its Shakespearean dialogue to its awesome visuals, was excellent. It was so much fun to watch and it was also an important film. Well, maybe not it specifically, but the movement was super important.

3. O Brother, Where Art Thou? - I kind of meant to put this film lower on my list, but it can get the number three spot, mostly due to my laziness. I thought it was great though, even after seeing it a few times before. It doesn't get old, and it's even more fun to watch when you get all of the references.

2. Wendy and Lucy - I loved this movie. I'm not really sure why, but I just couldn't stop watching it. I've made a few people watching it after doing that unit.

1. Moonrise Kingdom - Yeah, yeah, that was a pretty obvious pick. This film was one of the most fun movies to watch that I've ever seen. It had been a while since I was that into a movie and it was great. It made me go back and watch Anderson's films again.

Frances Ha

The camera cuts to this first shot right after Frances is seen smiling at Sophie. It is both a long shot and an establishing shot, establishing where the film is taking the viewer. It is a shot of was is presumably Frances' new apartment. Non-diegetic music is playing in the background of the shot and it is taken up by the apartment, with no people (or even cars) or anything to divert a viewer's attention.

Next, the camera cuts to a medium (or American) shot of Frances in her doorway, with her arms at her sides as if she is preparing to dance, or do something like that. She is looking down, and that mixed with the music gives the scene a sort of somber feel, I guess. I'm not sure what to call it. There are boxes in the background, clarifying that Frances has just moved in.

Frances steps out of the doorway and raises her arms, simultaneously smiling as she raises them. The camera does not move at all. The boxes are displayed more clearly in this shot, further clarifying what they had before, just in case the viewer hadn't noticed them. The film takes on a happy mood, as Frances finally has her own place and is content with her life. She is in the foreground of the shot, assuring that she has the viewer's attention, and her smile makes it clear that she is happy now.

The camera then cuts to a long shot of Frances writing something in front of the window. There are boxes and books piled up to her left and in front of her, respectively. The film does not make it clear what she is writing at this point. The camera is looking into this room from another room, giving a pretty clear shot of the room, in which the viewer can see most of it. The black-and-white makes it hard to tell what the weather is like outside, but that is not important. I just thought it was interesting.

The camera then cuts to a close-up of Frances' hand as she is writing her name on the bottom of a card. There are scissors in the background of the shot, but it is unclear, at this point, what they will be used for. The card with her name partially written take up the majority of the shot.

The camera cuts to a shot of Frances cutting her newly-written name off the card. At this point, it is still not clear why she wrote it, but the next shots show that it was for her new mailbox. The scissors in the background of the previous shot now come to the foreground and it is clear what they were for. The background of this close-up is blurry, so the important things in the shot (the cutting of the card) are made clear.

"I Hope the Roof Flies Off and I Get Sucked Up Into Space" (Moonrise Kingdom)

Here we have a very dark shot of Bill Murray's character in Moonrise Kingdom, Walt Bishop. We are not looking at the shot from anyone's point of view, but we are getting a medium shot of Murray, as he verbally announces his feelings. The shot is from a high angle, directly above Murray, allowing us to see him staring up at what we can assume is the ceiling, or maybe a window, as we saw shadows from outside in the previous shot. The lighting in the shot is minimal (actually, I'm pretty sure there is no lighting at all), obscuring pretty much everything except for the tiny bit of the floor the is visible in the bottom right. This gives all of the attention to Murray, who is lying with his pillow askew as he looks straight up into the camera. The lack of lighting also allows the dark rings around his eyes to be seen easily, giving more insight into his depression. Of course, he may just have dark rings surrounding his eyes in general, but it could be on purpose. This shot is incredibly minimal, prop-wise and lighting-wise, making sure that the full effect of Murray's quote is felt.

Wait, Wendy and Lucy is Considered a Chick Flick?

Well, I had no clue, after watching the film and prior to starting this blog post, that Wendy and Lucy, is supposed to be a chick flick. But in any case, Wendy and Lucy is an obvious antidote to the traditional chick flick. First thing's first: taking into account that our reading for today lists such films as The Devil Wears Prada and The Princess Diaries as chick flicks, one obvious difference is the class of the main characters (assuming that the main characters of the latter films are upper class, as the reading suggests). Wendy is far from upper class, as is seen in her roughly $500 budget for her drive to Alaska that is shown with the pedestal shot of the money spent/the money left. Aside from that, she is sleeping in her car, and is driven to shoplift due to her lack of money, which is, of course, a vital part of the plot. Now, I haven't seen them (well, I did see The Princess Diaries as a wee lad at some point or another), but I'm guessing the main characters of traditional chick flicks do not have any of the same troubles as Wendy, nor do they really have to worry about much of anything, except for their own materialism. Meanwhile, Wendy spends the whole film just trying to get by, and find her dog in the process. And then, there is the heartbreaking ending, in which she decides to let Lucy have a nice life, rather than trying to keep up with feeding her, and all of those other taking-care-of-dogs responsibilities. The film sets a really great example for, well, anyone who watches it, as far as what is really important in this weird thing called life. It works as an antidote in its not falling victim to the classic chick flick, filled with expensive objects/"perfect" people that Hollywood likes to showcase.

I Am a Man of Constant Sorrow

I want to look at the scene in O Brother, Where Art Thou? in which the film's protagonists, calling themselves the Soggy Bottom Boys, are in the recording studio recording what is soon to be their hit, "I Am a Man of Constant Sorrow." The scene, beginning at roughly 23:00, when the characters walk into the studio, opens up with a conversation in which George Clooney convinces the blind man to record them. During this conversation, the camera cuts back and forth between the Soggy Bottom Boys and the blind man. It then cuts to a shot of the characters (predominately Clooney) inside of the actual studio, where they are recording their diegetic song. At about 25:13, the camera cuts to a shot of the blind recording engineer, emphasizing his enjoyment of the song that they are playing. I think it is really interesting that the Coen brothers chose to show, whether deliberately or not, the reflection of the protagonists in the window. It made the scene feel more real than had it cut to a shot from inside the control room. The most interesting shot of this scene is when the camera cross-cuts to, and then zooms in on the song being recorded on a record. The quality of the music changes, because of the move to a different room, and it adds a new layer to what is happening in the scene.

Overall, I believe this scene was highly original and important to the film. The Coen brothers had a strong focus on the music used within the film, and "I Am a Man of Constant Sorrow" played a vital role in the freedom of the protagonists, so it makes sense that they would put an emphasis on this scene. Not to mention, it is a fun scene to watch in general, with its multiple cuts to different parts of the recording studio and with how animated the protagonists are while performing the song.

The Magazine Scene in My Own Private Idaho

I was pretty confused (and I believe rightly so) when the magazine scene came about in My Own Private Idaho. I just assumed that the film was cutting to a new scene - which it is, obviously - but when Keanu Reeves broke the fourth wall, I was surprised, in an awesome way. I think the scene was incredibly fresh in its approach. It gave the film a whole new layer and fully captured my attention, as I wanted to see where the film was going with it. It proved to be a fantastic way to introduce Keanu's character and his feelings on what he does. Then, not only did Keanu break the fourth wall, he pulls Mike into the scene, on his own cover of a magazine, along with others on their own. I thought it was a fantastic way to explain some of the concepts of the film in a non-traditional way. Instead of simply adding in a scene full of dialogue between the two characters and others that happened to be around, Van Sant created - well, I am not sure he completely created it - but he found a fresh way of propelling the story forward, that I am sure caught most viewers' attention the same way it caught mine.

Plenty of films have made use of breaking the fourth wall to interact with their viewers, but My Own Private Idaho did it in a way that was new and fresh for the time, when it was released. It was extremely useful in providing some background on Keanu Reeves' character and showing how he differed from the other characters in the film, particularly Mike, the character that he goes on the road with.

Why "the Vanishing" Is Not a Horror Movie

Reading that The Vanishing is considered a horror movie by many critics, I began watching the film with that description in mind. I expected loads of suspense, maybe some murder, I dunno - things that you find in horror movies. Instead, I found the film to be more of a drama, with possibly some psychological thriller tendencies thrown in there, particularly the ending, which just left me feeling pretty empty inside. Obviously, I did find a great amount of suspense within the film, especially in the events leading up to Saskia's kidnapping and immediately after. But the remainder of the film felt more like just a series of events where Rex attempted to find out what happened to her. Until the end, that is, where it brought those horror aspects back into the film. Although I would not say that the few moments of horror make this a horror film, per se.

The scene I want to focus on in proving my point that this is not really a horror film is the scene in which Rex gets in the kidnapper's car and the events that follow. The kidnapper gives Rex an ultimatum, stating that he can either have exactly what happened to Saskia happen to him as well, or that he can walk away without ever knowing her fate. The problem that I have with this scene and the film's being called a horror film is that the interactions between Rex and the kidnapper don't seem very dramatic or terrifying or any other adjective associated with horror at all. Instead, it just comes off as a series of interactions, during which Rex assures the kidnapper that he doesn't hate him and that he just wants to know what happened to Saskia, with the kidnapper telling his life story. It honestly just feels more like a more-dramatic-that-normal drama film to me. That's not to say that it wasn't great, because it was. I just didn't really get a horror vibe from it.

Killer of Sheep

I completely understand why there are an abundance of people who found, and still find, Killer of Sheep to be confusing upon first watching it. When watching a movie, one would obviously expect there to be some semblance of a plot to follow, with characters that are relatively easily remembered, some sort of conflict, maybe a heart-warming ending. Killer of Sheep, however, rids itself of these traditional parts of film completely. Until I read up on the film roughly half-way through watching it, I did not fully comprehend the hyper-realistic nature of the film. I must have glazed over that description and did not think much of it.

The first scene in the film, with the father yelling at his son and the mother slapping him, sets the movie up in a way that makes it seem like any questions the viewer might have (such as who are these characters/what are their goals, etc.) might be cleared up, but, for me, about 40 minutes in I realized that the film was more of a series of events in the character's lives. I had to change my viewing of the film and allow myself to just sort of live with the characters and follow what was happening, without expecting any sort of grand climax at any point. Although the film was not super difficult to understand or follow at all, it took me a little while to get the hyper-realistic nature of the film - or rather, to let myself forget about anything I had watched previously and to just enjoy it and try to follow what was happening. There was obviously some main plot points in the film, like Stan's work-life affecting his home life, his friends trying to get him involved in their lifestyle, etc., but overall, the film was different from most others, and I can totally see why some would find it difficult to follow.

The Myth of Clint Eastwood

Clint Eastwood's acting in The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly really showcases his ability to pull of the silent and ruthless action hero without even having to reveal his name. His facial expressions, actions, his glare, and even his stance really, in addition to a ton of other things, work together to form the character that Clint Eastwood would continue to play until modern times. I mean, really, although his roles are relatively diverse between the westerns he is famous for, or the Dirty Harry films, or Gran Torino, he mostly sticks to the same general character type that originated with the Man with No Name.

Really, his whole character is shown in his relationship with Tuco - the way that he works together with Tuco to collect reward money over and over again, only to end up leaving him in the desert is a pretty good indication of his ruthlessness, especially considering his total lack of pity toward Tuco. Then there is the fact that Eastwood trudged through the desert and survived when Tuco tried to get back at him - he even managed to keep himself alive by finding out the name of the grave where the money they are after is buried. Another really important aspect of his characters are their pretty direct, cold dialogue. In this film, the viewer gets a pretty clear example of this when he leaves to find the grave with Angel Eyes and he says a line about having six bullets - which happens to be the amount of people in their group, excluding himself. It is Eastwood's portrayal of the silent, albeit ruthless, character that landed him his future roles that were relatively similar to his role as the Man with No Name.

Awara: Musical or Not

You know, when I was first looking over the questions for this week's blog post and I read the second question, I immediately jumped to the conclusion that no, Bollywood movies are not necessarily musicals. I am not exactly sure why I did that, but after discussing it with a couple people and watching Awara, I have changed my mind about Kapoor's film. There are a few instances of song and dance in the film, including the famous dream sequence, where the singing and dancing seem to be non-diegetic (well, the singing/dancing in the dream sequence could be diegetic - or I guess meta-diegetic, heh), leading me to believe that it has to be considered a musical.

The first glimpse (if I am remembering correctly) that the viewer gets of a song/dance number is when Raj's mother and father are in a boat and the others around them are singing and repeating things such as "beware," etc. that warn the two of bandits, but in reality, I am assuming that one of them/maybe multiple would just be warning the two without the out-of-place musical number. That is the keyword (or I guess hyphenated string of words): out-of-place. The reason I would consider this film a musical is because musical numbers are used at moments where there would definitely not be anyone singing/dancing in reality. I mean, I guess it is possible that while Raj and Rita are out on the boat together they could potentially be singing, but it is also not horribly likely. So I think I would now consider Awara a musical.

The Anti-Hero As Seen in Detour

So, first off, Detour was excellent and made me want to watch more film noir. But that’s all I’ll say about it quality-wise. Now, on to the matter at hand. Film noir definitely alters the perception of characters, especially given the fact that the main character generally (I have yet to see a film noir that does not contain this) will narrate the story in a romantic, often hopeless-sounding way. This is, of course, also the case for Detour. Al Roberts is the protagonist in the film, and he narrates the events leading up to his sitting in the diner, being tortured by a song from his past.

Giving the main character of a film noir the ability to tell about the events from their point of view leads to a whole world of altered perceptions of themselves and every single character that they interact with. Take Al Roberts, himself, for example: his retelling of his own story leads to a whole new view of his anti-hero-esque character that viewers would not get without Detour being a film noir. The viewer hears Roberts’ thoughts throughout, such as when Haskell dies. The viewer really gets a, well, view of how hectic his thoughts are during that period. He is far from having the heroic qualities that may have saved him from inevitably getting into deeper trouble (he possibly could have just told the cop what happened). Instead, he is flawed, and takes a different route from the easiest one. After than, even, he continues to take on the identity of Haskell, killing Vera eventually, and further and further from being a hero, until he becomes the anti-hero.

Film Noir really helps to modify the anti-hero with its traditionally dark themes and the flaws of its characters. Al Roberts, who starts out as a guy on a mission to find his nearly-lost love, becomes an anti-hero in the end because of the events that ensue throughout the movie. His narration of the events just helps to solidify how he has changed and his personal views on the events.

Sherlock Jr.

First off, I thoroughly enjoyed Sherlock Jr. It was a semi-introduction into the world of slapstick comedy, as I had never seen one all the way through. But onto the actual assignment: the visual gags and stunts in Sherlock Jr. were very effective. They hold up well, despite its 1924 release date. The 13 ball that was actually a bomb came as a surprise to me actually - but in a great way. The visual stunt proved that even silent films from the 20s can get a modern viewer to laugh/respond to them. Another example from the film that held up well was when Keaton rode the barrier down and landed in the car. It showed how some things are timelessly effective, regardless of their age.

There is a clear influence that the film (and related films) had on contemporary comedy. One scene that comes to mind is the one in which Keaton follows that main villain of the narrative in his (literal) every step. There have been many modern examples that clearly mimic the scene, and a number of others that do it in a way that does not show a direct influence, but an influence that has evolved through the ages. Visual gags/stunts are still very alive today and they would not be what they are without films like Sherlock Jr.

Introduction!

I'm not really sure how to go about introducing myself via a blog, so here goes nothing. My name is Billy Menke and I'm a freshman E-Media major. I've lived in Cincinnati my whole life and movies are incredible, as everything creative is. That being said, I could never pick one type of movie to like, although I tend to lean more toward sad-ish/indie-ish movies, if I had to choose. I took this course because getting to actually study movies in-depth for a class sounded great - plus I just love film.