Re-cap-ola

I thought I would jump on the list-journalism band-wagon that rolls around the world at this time of year and offer a list of films that have left a big impression on me in 2011.  In no particular order (of course)...

Mr. Thank You - Hiroshi Shimizu

God's Country - Louis Malle

Wagon Master - John Ford

Xiao Wu - Jia Zhang-ke

Werckmeister Harmonies - Bela Tarr

The Green Ray - Eric Rohmer

The Last Holiday - Henry Cass

Uncle Boonmee who can Recall his Past Lives - Apichatpong Weerasthakul

Through the Olive Trees - Abbas Kiarostami

In Vanda's Room - Pedro Costa

Notre Musique - Jean-Luc Godard

The Seahorse - Jean Painleve

The Hole - Tsai Ming-Liang

The Human Condition - Masaki Kobayashi

I'd love to hear some titles from all of you.

Hazy Malaisie

Hou

Flowers of Shanghai

After watching Flowers of Shanghai this week, I've been thinking a lot about Hou Hsiao-Hsien.  The first film of his that I saw was Cafe Lumiere, which is sort of a tribute to Ozu, and I've slowly grown more and more interested and become more and more impressed.  Initially I liked the way that he dealt with time and pace, but it took a long time for me to get comfortable with it.  They aren't movies that you rave about, they are movies that you want to spend time with.  I'm not sure it is about 'getting' them, as much as just getting in touch with what you are actually seeing and hearing, maybe finding your spot in the scene or waiting for something in you to be triggered.

Millenium Mambo

To me what is special about his films is the way that it feels like you are experiencing it yourself, but with some indefinable extra sense.  Sometimes you aren't even sure that a scene or a film showed you anything significant at all, but then it pops up in your mind days or weeks later and won't go away.  I wish I could find a clip that would do some justice to what I'm trying to talk about, but maybe my lack of success in finding one is all too appropriate for this post.  So here are some stills instead.

Cafe Lumiere

Goodbye South, Goodbye

In limbo

Jean Painleve

I've been studying Painleve for an assignment lately, he is one of those individuals who seemed to take on all of life at the same time and somehow make it work.  He was into everything, always on the periphery of important political, scientific, and cinematic projects.  He was very close friends with Jean Vigo and Eisenstein.  Founded the worlds first diving club.  Filmed the liberation of Paris from the street level.  Managed to disgust Luis Bunuel with footage from eye surgery.  Had a penchant for auto racing.  Escaped from the nazi occupation with diving equipment that he made himself.  And most importantly made a huge number of glorious nature films.

The Seahorse

Scratch

I love this...

It's a little bit earth-shattering to actually see the atmosphere that some important recordings were born in.

Off the hook

Last week during a discussion about Altman's Nashville, a professor said that the character Haven Hamilton looked at his audience as if he was putting them under surveillance.  I liked how he used that word 'surveillance.'  There is something really interesting to me about seeing someone intently watch a group of people that is watching them, I'm always dying to know what is going through their minds.  Are they thinking about what it's like to be there at that moment performing, wondering if this performance is special while they are still in the middle of it?  Are they trying to read the crowd's temperament and respond to it accordingly?  Or maybe they feel totally present and aware of the moment and they just want to take it in.

No matter what is going on, there is something enticing about this kind of stage presence.  I tried to think back to places that I've seen it before.  I remember a few times in person, but most intensely I remembered this Rolling Stones footage...

And here is the Haven Hamilton number...in all it's glory.  The song begins around the 1:20 mark of the clip, but if you haven't yet seen Nashville, I insist that you do so at your earliest convenience.

Archibald

All of them Sunday-brunching, mother-fucking

All of them Sunday-brunching, mother-fucking
Good looking two-day-old hair gel,
Somehow holding,
Drawing attention from your stretched out clothes,
you got screwed up eyes,
sitting bleary in your face
I'm entitled to a little more.
I neeeed the coffee, Am I right, tell me about it.
Sheeeit.

North of the cemetery

Get them up

There are a number of films that I've read about that I've never been able to actually track down.  I know some of them are out there, but there is always some obstacle in the way or something else that I'm interested in seeing more.  Sometimes this process builds up films to such a degree that they can never possibly achieve the status that you have given them.  Luis Bunuel's The Exterminating Angel, was one of these experiences.  Though I enjoyed it, it did not lead me to the earth-shattering shift in world view that I hoped it would.  So in the spirit of raising expectations to unconquerable heights here are some films that I hope to one day see...

In the Year of the Pig - 1968

The only thing that makes me want to see this movie is a still shot (which I couldn't find online) of an infant smoking a cigarette.  I thought that it was a Filipino film, and I'd never seen anything from that part of the world, turns out it isn't Filipino.  This last revelation has somewhat lowered my expectations.

Marketa Lazarova - 1967

A good friend of mine threw this title at me a long time ago, and everything I read about it seems to reassure me that it will be amazing.  It looks like Andrei Rublev but with more dogs/wolves/whatever those animals are.  It seems like this movie might be the crown jewel of eastern-European cinema (along with The Red and The White).

Quince Tree of the Sun (aka Dream of Light) - 1992

A feature length documentary about a Quince tree directed by Victor Erice, how can it be anything but superb.  This is one of only three films that Erice has made, I think about him as a giant based on Spirit of the Beehive.

The Flavour of Green Tea over Rice - 1952

Sure it is a typical Ozu film where almost any one shot could be from any one of his other black and white films, but every time I see another one of his movies I feel like my appreciation for all of his other films grows a little bit more.

Plastic arts

On a Tuesday Morning

The Bullwark

From E.T.A. Hoffmann's 'The Sandman'

If there is a dark power which treacherously attaches a thread to our heart to drag us along a perilous and ruinous path that we would not otherwise have trod; if there is such a power, it must form inside us, from part of us, must be identical with ourselves; only in this way can we believe in it and give it the opportunity it needs if it is to accomplish its secret work.  If our mind is firm enough and adequately fortified by the joys of life to be able to recognize alien and hostile influences as such, and to proceed tranquilly along the path of our own choosing and propensities, then this mysterious power will perish in its futile attempt to assume a shape that is supposed to be a reflection of ourselves.

This is all a little bit terrifying to me, though there always seems to be some merit to the idea that you have to build yourself up to take on the world.  I can't decide if I feel like it is true or not, perhaps that is exactly where Hoffmann wants me.

My autumn

Spirit of the Beehive

In reference to Victor Erice's Spirit of the Beehive someone said that this film is essentially about a girl 'that has no idea yet whether the world is ordinary or extraordinary.'  There is maybe no better way to describe the film.  The sense of being caught halfway between the ordinary and extraordinary, and facing the fearful offerings of each extreme.

I think I like that statement's implication as much as how it expresses the terrain of the film.  Is the world 'ordinary or extraordinary?'  Spirit of the Beehive is the perfect text to address that question and formulate some kind of contemplation on it, even if it is an unanswerable question.  But an answer to that question is beside the point, it is something that is valuable to think about, to try and view everything through alternating lenses.

Alan Lomax

In 1978 Alan Lomax toured the southern states making 'field recordings' of mostly amateur blues and gospel musicians.  These are a few of the performances that I particularly enjoyed.

I'm not sure what inspired the fife and drum parties like the one in the bottom clip but it is pretty freaky/I don't know what.  I also love that the gospel band is called 'The Sensational Friendly Brothers,' probably the greatest band name I've ever heard.



Lost Time (Making Up)

2 inches off the ground on a Thursday morning

*Please mute audio on this clip

A walk, to look at signs

More and more I find myself trying to really look at things; to think about objects and moments as if they were always significant.  I think a lot about signs, particularly painted ones or old/deteriorated ones.  Someone wanted to put up some words that generally address the public, and that is fascinating (keeping the practical side of a sign in mind but firmly in check).  A sign says so much about intention and the individual or individuals that decided to put it up.  I try to imagine the person that put up whatever sign I'm looking at, maybe even what was going through their mind as they fastened it or painted it.  Why this font and not another?  Why in that spot and not somewhere else?  Was the slogan a source of pride, or embarrassment?  Did they make ten more just like it, or maybe 5?

Monuments