I tend to pride myself on my naïve optimism that deep down all humans are good and well-intentioned and that life is beautiful, so it usually makes me uncomfortable when a movie points out to me just how illogical that notion truly is. Weird, then, that the films I've been attracted to lately are those that offer a pretty bleak view on humanity and life. (Is this what growing up entails? If so, I don't like it.) Anyway, Runaway Train is certainly one of those movies that forces me to see the darker nature of the human experience. The most poignant line, in my opinion, is this one, towards the very end of the movie:
Sara:You're an animal!
Manny: No worse! Human!
This exchange, I think, is so important in that it really sheds a light on the view of humans portrayed so deeply and depressingly in the movie. No character seen in the film can truly be said to show a fully positive picture of what it is to be human: not Sara, the only girl in the movie, not the men in the control room, not Ranken, and certainly not our protagonist. That's not to say that all the characters are just "bad", quite the opposite, but the movie seems to present the idea that human nature, especially in our day and age, is not the prettiest picture in the world.
All in all, the movie made me feel and think more than most standard "action" movies do. It made me wonder whether any of us has a choice in life; whether any of us ever are 100% free. Don't we all live in some type of prison, when we really think about it? Is life in general really just a runaway train? (Yes, I did just write that. I realize how lame that sounds but still...)While the movie didn't really do much to help the happy-go-lucky part of my personality, the ending will certainly stay with me for a long time. I'm sure, if I ever grow up to lead an incredibly disappointing life and begin displaying suicidal tendencies (this hopefully won't happen but I guess you never know), this movie will come back to me again and again. It has a very powerful message.
Now that I've seen the whole thing, I really want to buy it and re-watch it, in one sitting, and analyze all the shots and dialogue and all that nerdy goodness. Sounds fun.
[Also, I've just learned via IMDb trivia that Marlon Brando really liked Runaway Train. Not sure how I feel about that. I loved the movie but I'm so not a fan of Marlon, personality wise.I guess there's a little bit of good taste in everyone.]
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Monday, March 9, 2009
Some Thoughts on Citizen Kane (because I'd be the worst Welles fan ever if I wrote about Watchmen instead)
I'm usually surprised when I see a movie more than once or twice and still find something new. And this was my fifth (or sixth?) time viewing Citizen Kane, so the fact that I was still completely engaged in the film and managed to see new things in it is a testament to the genius that was Orson Welles. Two things jumped out at me in this viewing that I'm ashamed to admit I hadn't really thought about before:
1)Leland's position as the "dramatic critic" of the paper: It's referred to several times in the movie, but previously I had just dismissed the repetition of what his job was as just a fun idiosyncrasy of the dialogue. Recently, however, I realized that Leland being a dramatic critic is very representative of his character and his role in the film. Throughout the flashbacks, we see Leland go from Kane's closest friend to his most scathing critic, and his memories in the film are characterized by excessive critical commentary. In the flashbacks, Leland seems to predict everything that happens to Kane, from his immense influence to ultimate moral corruption. Though I think it's an over-simplification of the screenplay to refer to one character as simply "always right", I do think that Leland's character serves as the lens through which we are supposed to see Kane, and therefore his position as a dramatic critic is wonderfully fitting.
2)The last image we see of Kane in the mirrors: Have to admit I'm sort of embarrassed I never caught this use of mirrors in the movie. Not only does it contribute to the whole theme, but I'm also a huge fan of the movie the Lady From Shanghai, where Welles uses mirrors again,so I have no idea how I never caught it here. Nevertheless, it's a truly amazing image, and seems to signify that, although we've seen all we will of Kane, we still don't truly know his character, and can never know. All we've seen of him has been told through the memories of other people, and so our image of him has been completely influenced by other people. We've seen several Kanes in the movie: the little boy who attacks Thatcher with a sled, the ambitious young man who takes charge of a newspaper, the arrogant politician. But each of these Kanes is just a fraction of the man as he truly was: just an image of him as reflected by the various people who knew him.
One last thing (this post is actually turning out much longer that I thought it would): From talking to some of my friends who watched this for the first time, I've noticed that a lot of people were disappointed by the ending, because they felt cheated out of a satisfying answer to what Rosebud. Understandable, but it surprised me that when I first saw the movie a few years ago, I felt none of the same feelings. I think it all depends on hoe you view the movie. If you approach at as simply a mystery, trying constantly to figure out what Rosebud is, then yeah, a sled is infinitely disappointing. Thankfully, I didn't approach the movie this way the first time, purely because if its not a life or death matter I tend to not care about a mystery. Instead, the main thing I was trying to find out throughout the movie was any insight on the character of Kane, played so enigmatically by Orson. In that sense, Rosebud is actually very satisfying, as it provides more insight on the character that none of the other characters could actually see. No, it's not a "key" to Kane's psyche, there is no such thing, but it's important to note that rosebud being Kane's last word IS significant- it is the only thing we see Kane saying in real time, rather than in a flashback related by another person. In a way, the significance of rosebud- a sled signifying lost childhood- is that it remains the only contribution to the character study of the movie that Kane himself gives importance to.
(Did that make sense to anyone but me? I'm on three hours of sleep so I doubt that was very coherent. Apologies.)
1)Leland's position as the "dramatic critic" of the paper: It's referred to several times in the movie, but previously I had just dismissed the repetition of what his job was as just a fun idiosyncrasy of the dialogue. Recently, however, I realized that Leland being a dramatic critic is very representative of his character and his role in the film. Throughout the flashbacks, we see Leland go from Kane's closest friend to his most scathing critic, and his memories in the film are characterized by excessive critical commentary. In the flashbacks, Leland seems to predict everything that happens to Kane, from his immense influence to ultimate moral corruption. Though I think it's an over-simplification of the screenplay to refer to one character as simply "always right", I do think that Leland's character serves as the lens through which we are supposed to see Kane, and therefore his position as a dramatic critic is wonderfully fitting.
2)The last image we see of Kane in the mirrors: Have to admit I'm sort of embarrassed I never caught this use of mirrors in the movie. Not only does it contribute to the whole theme, but I'm also a huge fan of the movie the Lady From Shanghai, where Welles uses mirrors again,so I have no idea how I never caught it here. Nevertheless, it's a truly amazing image, and seems to signify that, although we've seen all we will of Kane, we still don't truly know his character, and can never know. All we've seen of him has been told through the memories of other people, and so our image of him has been completely influenced by other people. We've seen several Kanes in the movie: the little boy who attacks Thatcher with a sled, the ambitious young man who takes charge of a newspaper, the arrogant politician. But each of these Kanes is just a fraction of the man as he truly was: just an image of him as reflected by the various people who knew him.
One last thing (this post is actually turning out much longer that I thought it would): From talking to some of my friends who watched this for the first time, I've noticed that a lot of people were disappointed by the ending, because they felt cheated out of a satisfying answer to what Rosebud. Understandable, but it surprised me that when I first saw the movie a few years ago, I felt none of the same feelings. I think it all depends on hoe you view the movie. If you approach at as simply a mystery, trying constantly to figure out what Rosebud is, then yeah, a sled is infinitely disappointing. Thankfully, I didn't approach the movie this way the first time, purely because if its not a life or death matter I tend to not care about a mystery. Instead, the main thing I was trying to find out throughout the movie was any insight on the character of Kane, played so enigmatically by Orson. In that sense, Rosebud is actually very satisfying, as it provides more insight on the character that none of the other characters could actually see. No, it's not a "key" to Kane's psyche, there is no such thing, but it's important to note that rosebud being Kane's last word IS significant- it is the only thing we see Kane saying in real time, rather than in a flashback related by another person. In a way, the significance of rosebud- a sled signifying lost childhood- is that it remains the only contribution to the character study of the movie that Kane himself gives importance to.
(Did that make sense to anyone but me? I'm on three hours of sleep so I doubt that was very coherent. Apologies.)
Monday, March 2, 2009
Unpopular Opinions
I have what may just be the most annoying, persistent cold in history. So, instead of being with friends like a normal 17-year-old girl, this Saturday I woke up at noon, spent the entire day at home with endless cups of Green Tea, and had an impromptu Judd Apatow marathon, which is probably the best way to spend a lazy day. So, I watched the 40 Year Old Virgin, Knocked Up, Superbad, Step Brothers, and Forgetting Sarah Marshall. Other than Step Brothers, I've seen all of those movies repeatedly; with or without commentary (my obsession knows no bounds).
I guess I'm unlike most film snobs in that I treat good comedy as if it was a holy thing. And I don't mean Woody Allen "comedies" either. I've long preferred Ghostbusters to Annie Hall. What I think makes Judd Apatow movies so special to me is that they all seem to come from a place of profound sadness, or rather melancholy, which in my opinion is an even sadder emotion. Most comedies today only offer pure escapism (and I maintain there's nothing particularly wrong with that), but these movies take something mundane and ordinary, stretch it out a bit, and make it fantastic. They take pathetic, albeit slightly ridiculous, characters and put them in very real, emotional situations (having children, getting married, breaking up, going to college- growing up, in general), and somehow manage to make the movie hilarious and heartbreaking at the same time. It's clear that all of his movies come from a very real place, but instead of wallowing in sadness, he prefers to take these stories and point out that there is, in fact, something intrinsically funny about it all. This is what, I think, makes truly great comedy- taking something mundane and depressing, and pointing out some obvious hilarity in it all. Isn't it comedy that helps keep humanity, in general, from jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge?
I tend to dislike the old cliche that all comedians come from terrible upbringings, and I find that it's just as often false as true, but I do know that Mr. Apatow had a sad, mundane little childhood. He's talked in articles about how he had very few friends, was the stereotypical nerd, and always looked to comedy as a way to escape, so much that it became an obsession for him. So it does really warm my heart to see that he's managed to do the same for so many people.
His movies really do all seem to be dedicated to the modern day Apatows (if that makes sense to anyone but me). Here's an example I find very apt: In the Knocked Up commentary, he talks about a blind date he went on once. He thought it was going really well until his date told him she had to go back home because her friend's dad had gotten really sick and she needed to check in on him. So, he proceeded to call her every fifteen minutes or so asking how everything was, until finally his date's roommate picked up the phone and said "She doesn't want to talk to you!" and hung up. At this point in the commentary Judd jokingly asks "How do you bounce back from that?" to which Seth Rogen answers "You make a bunch of movies about nerds winning. That's what you do."
[also, if anyone wants to see my favorite scene in anything ever, here it is, from Freaks and Geeks, one of the best television shows in history:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cmCpmEQD0L4
it was written by Judd Apatow, and he talked about it an article about two years ago, saying how it was the most emotional scene he's ever written, since it's based completely off of his childhood. And this is why I can never understand how some critics can just write off comedians as "mindless entertainers". I think that scene is much more real, subtle, and complex than anything Oscar darling Clint Eastwood has ever done.)
I guess I'm unlike most film snobs in that I treat good comedy as if it was a holy thing. And I don't mean Woody Allen "comedies" either. I've long preferred Ghostbusters to Annie Hall. What I think makes Judd Apatow movies so special to me is that they all seem to come from a place of profound sadness, or rather melancholy, which in my opinion is an even sadder emotion. Most comedies today only offer pure escapism (and I maintain there's nothing particularly wrong with that), but these movies take something mundane and ordinary, stretch it out a bit, and make it fantastic. They take pathetic, albeit slightly ridiculous, characters and put them in very real, emotional situations (having children, getting married, breaking up, going to college- growing up, in general), and somehow manage to make the movie hilarious and heartbreaking at the same time. It's clear that all of his movies come from a very real place, but instead of wallowing in sadness, he prefers to take these stories and point out that there is, in fact, something intrinsically funny about it all. This is what, I think, makes truly great comedy- taking something mundane and depressing, and pointing out some obvious hilarity in it all. Isn't it comedy that helps keep humanity, in general, from jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge?
I tend to dislike the old cliche that all comedians come from terrible upbringings, and I find that it's just as often false as true, but I do know that Mr. Apatow had a sad, mundane little childhood. He's talked in articles about how he had very few friends, was the stereotypical nerd, and always looked to comedy as a way to escape, so much that it became an obsession for him. So it does really warm my heart to see that he's managed to do the same for so many people.
His movies really do all seem to be dedicated to the modern day Apatows (if that makes sense to anyone but me). Here's an example I find very apt: In the Knocked Up commentary, he talks about a blind date he went on once. He thought it was going really well until his date told him she had to go back home because her friend's dad had gotten really sick and she needed to check in on him. So, he proceeded to call her every fifteen minutes or so asking how everything was, until finally his date's roommate picked up the phone and said "She doesn't want to talk to you!" and hung up. At this point in the commentary Judd jokingly asks "How do you bounce back from that?" to which Seth Rogen answers "You make a bunch of movies about nerds winning. That's what you do."
[also, if anyone wants to see my favorite scene in anything ever, here it is, from Freaks and Geeks, one of the best television shows in history:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cmCpmEQD0L4
it was written by Judd Apatow, and he talked about it an article about two years ago, saying how it was the most emotional scene he's ever written, since it's based completely off of his childhood. And this is why I can never understand how some critics can just write off comedians as "mindless entertainers". I think that scene is much more real, subtle, and complex than anything Oscar darling Clint Eastwood has ever done.)
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