Thursday, October 11, 2012

Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, Oi, Ew, OOWWW!!!


Even though I love watching movies I have already found out that finding topics for my infant blog is tough. And when I find a topic and then watch the movie it feels like I m watching it because I have to and not because I enjoy it. In the back of my mind I knew that I would feel this way, and I knew it would happen quick just like with most things I pursue. This isn’t work but I m so good at quietly sabotaging myself into camouflaging an entertaining outlet for me to express myself with something that I love. Maybe that’s why I love film so much, because all you do is sit there and take. There are no expectations from the audience, only that they become emotionally involved and then leave. I am not required to do anything and that is just fine by me. The simplicity of feeling all these synthetic emotions is a relief from experiencing them in reality when reality isn’t nearly as forgiving or humorous or compassionate or empathetic or friendly or pleasurable as what is seen on the screen. I have taken for too long and I would like to give something back, even it only amounts to a just barely floating blog.
            I finally watched Sleeping Beauty, not the Disney movie, last night and honestly I really can’t make out what the story tried to convey. I did understand that it was filmed in Australia, Oi Mate!, and that this dark story reminded me of Snowtown, an even darker true story but I’ll get to that in a bit mate. The main character, Lucy, who is classically beautiful is struggling out in the real world but has no problem in using her beauty to escape these troubles. Throughout the movie she seems completely detached with each new encounter that arises, except for one. The only time Lucy feels vulnerable is when she is laying unconscious, which is her decision, and fully naked with old men who pay to have their way with her in anyway as long as they follow the golden rule of “no penetration” and when she visits her alcoholic shut-in friend. She is always kind enough to supply vodka for him and even pours it in a bowl of cereal, substituting it for milk, for him. They are made to understand each other in ways that we are not suppose to understand and that much we should at least understand….uummmmmm yeah. Neither judge one another for their choices and both are there to console and soothe for any mistake that is made. He is there to lull her to sleep and she is there to ease his pain as he pulls a Nic Cage from Leaving Las Vegas and drinks himself to death. Even though they are there for each other that does not mean they are connected in any way; they are more like to objects floating in space that happen to glide next to one another until one collided and smashed into a planet.
            Once her friend dies Lucy becomes desperate for money and constantly needs that break from reality that she has lost. She starts volunteering more and more to render her services out to these rich old men desperate for a beautiful girls body, and not for sex, more along the lines to console them in whatever way they need to be consoled without judgment. Each time the ritual is the same: drink the potion and sleep soundly only to remember nothing. We watch each new man reveal his insecurities to Lucy while she sleeps and becomes an emotional punching bag for them to wail on. After a couple of sessions her curiosity succeeds her apathy so she places a small hidden camera in the room. In this session though the man can take living no longer and purposely drinks too much potion. He cannot bear to live or die alone so he chooses Lucy to help ease his pain, just as her alcoholic friend did. Lucy goes to bed with her dying friend only to wake up with a dead stranger in her bed. Her reality finally sets in that she is awake. Even when she is asleep she cannot escape knowing how ugly and uncontrollable everything is. Her beauty cannot shield her from unhappy ugly experiences that need to be endured. She may have been paid a lot of money for her beauty but that act just reassures the unfortunate greed for something that should be pure and not peddled around like currency or exhibition of power. It is now clear to her that beauty can be as big a burden as commonality.
            I honestly was hoping to be more shocked by this movie, I have no idea why but it was kind of a let down. It was beautifully shot though. Many of the shots when Lucy is sleeping appear like an old colonial painting instead of a movie. It reminds me of the ending shots to 2001: A Space Odyssey when the main character is trapped watching himself evolve through the stages of life only to be reborn. The plot felt like it needed a little more substance throughout though. Lucy’s interactions with each character left me kind of unsatisfied and felt more like a loosely woven story of many different vignettes which made each scene drag on and feel heavy. All together I didn’t enjoy it as much as I thought I would but it definitely wasn’t a disaster. I guess the Australian movies that I have seen have just been so brutal and raw, like Snowtown, that I wasn’t expecting the subtleties of Sleeping Beauty.
            Snowtown is one of the best movies I’ve seen in a while. As soon as the film begins it radiates a feeling of intense restriction, like a mouse being dropped into a cage with a python. A low steady beat dramatizes a fast moving shot of the country side as the main character narrates a reoccurring dream. From the beginning I was hooked and on the edge of my seat.
            We are introduced to a family of a mother and three young teen boys living, in what looks like, the slums or outskirts of a major town. Right away they are all abused by their neighbor, someone who was thought to be a friend. The mother then becomes trapped with a deviant neighbor because the cops don’t do anything about it and neither can she. Enter John, a man who shows empathy towards the family by vandalizing the abusive neighbor’s house until he moves and quickly earns the trust of all the kids which can only lead to earning the trust of the mother. From there John infiltrates the house like he has been living there for years and becomes a father figure. Once he has earned the oldest boys (Jaime) trust John manipulates that trust by molding Jaime into a drone out of fear.
            In one of the scenes Jaime is staying over at John’s house and they are eating dinner until John, with a smile on his face, asks if Jaime likes being raped. Jaime is dumbfounded but of course says no. John wants to know why he doesn’t do anything about it and gives Jaime a gun. John calls his dog over and politely asks Jaime, over and over again, to shoot it. John’s patience runs out and orders Jaime to shoot and he does out of fear. From that point on we know Jaime is John’s drone. John will stand for nothing more than obedience, whether it be his dog taking the bullet or his dog shooting the bullet. John finishes what Jaime can’t do by stolidly ending the dog. Jaime becomes brainwashed with John’s rhetoric of “well if you aren’t fighting for us, then you must be one of them”. With Jaime, John can now begin what he has been planning for a while.
            In another scene John sits in a lawn chair in the backyard with a smirk on his face staring straight ahead. He stares for a bit, then picks up two bricks and hands them to Jaime’s little brother who is wearing a woman’s dress and standing on a table. John hands them to the little brother and makes him hold them out at shoulder height as he watches in his chair. John constantly needs to control. John watches him struggle with pleasure. His manipulation through fear has trapped the entire family and the claustrophobia only rises from there. They have no where to go or no one to turn to. John has permeated into their family and now owns and delegates them as puppets.
            The best way to describe John is when he satisfyingly watches and becomes entranced as the life escape from a strangled victim. Over and over the victim is strangled within one breathe of his life only to be allowed air so John can watch this torture again and again. John is in control. He is a disturbed character with no remorse. The worst part about John is he knows how attract the damaged souls who are looking for a stronger person who can supply answers, even if they are not the right ones. Jaime is looking for an outlet from all his problems: sexual abuse inside and outside of the family, lackless existence and rejection from all the people that should be protecting him. It doesn’t take much for John to gain Jaime’s trust, just a few kind gestures are enough to manipulate Jaime’s genuine confidence.
            The movie follows how Jaime becomes involved with these ugly crimes but the movie is clearly about the brutality of John. John is relentless from the beginning and we see early that he should not be underestimated in his sadistic nature. His manipulation soaks deep within the family, so much so that he commits these crimes at their house and in front of them. John is one of the most ruthless characters I have seen in a long time and this is one of the most brutal and thrilling movies I have seen in a long time. There is no confusion when watching this movie it is just a straight to the point brutal assault raw film.   

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Bobcat Rocks!


Two movies that I watched recently, God Bless America and Worlds Greatest Dad, surprised the hell out of me, and in a good way. I was pretty reluctant to watch these movies because Bobcat Goldthwait wrote and directed both of them which pretty much translated in my head that all the main characters would be jittery and having asthma attacks all throughout their lines. Bobcat hasn’t been relevant for….well forever. I don’t know why but I consider him to be a looked down upon distant cousin of Michael Winslow’s….until now.
            I watched World’s Greatest Dad first and enjoyed it from the beginning. Robin Williams plays a teacher, Lance, who is an overly agreeable man and is always getting walked over because of it. His son Kyle is a complete piece of shit because he knows how much of a push over his dad is so he takes advantage anyway possible. Usually in a Robin Williams movie Williams antics dampen all other characters. Fortunately Kyle’s character, played by Daryl Sabara, puts many of Robin’s other memorable characters to shame. Too many good one liners that would either get me smacked in the face, beaten up by a boyfriend or laid like a porn star. Kyle is definitely a kid that would have been beaten or drowned as a child if he was the son of any other person besides Lance’s. Williams and Sabara do a good job by complimenting each other with these polar opposite characters so we know that they really would be father and son.
            Unfortunately Kyle is only in the movie for about 25 to 30 minutes and I think the movie suffers because of it but it is a key plot point and really the only thing that does suffer throughout this movie. Once Kyle is gone the movie turns into self-realizing journey for everyone else involved in the movie. Bobcat does a good job depicting how fake everyone can become when tragedy strikes and how far they will go to convince themselves and everyone around them how genuine they are; the more they struggle the harder it becomes.
            In God Bless America the protagonist is very similar to Lance, as they are both quietly desperate men seeking something more than what they have been given. Joel Murray plays Frank, an extremely cynical man struggling desperately to contain his seething hate and disgust for his fellow man. After a few life altering events occur, Frank can take it no more and decides to kill himself but not before he lathers a couple of social parasites up in a blood bath. Along with Williams, Murray makes me laugh at his plight with cynical sarcasm and at times empathize for his unlucky outcome. He again is a sad pathetic character until his supporting cast member diverts Frank down a new road.
            Roxy is a high school girl who witnesses one of Frank’s murders and convinces him to not kill himself but to kill more despicable individuals instead. Just like Kyle, Roxy becomes the focal of how the story continues. Frank was once lost but now he has found Roxy….who helps him decide who to kill next. They bond through shooting guns at stuffed teddy bears and at rude teenagers who won’t shut up during a movie (something of which should be done anyways). The two become Mickey and Mallory Knox but with a Harold and Maude kind of a twist.     
Just like in Worlds greatest Dad I think the supporting character steals the show because without these types of characters the protagonist would be a sad pathetic individual. They are the catalysts that drive the main character. I would like to see a stronger character in a future Bobcat movie though. Bobcat does a good job at dragging the empathy out of the audience for these sad passive people but they are only half satisfying without the supporting character piecing them together. And yes, I did say I want to see a future Bobcat movie. Bobcat definitely has some talent and I can’t wait to see how his sick cynical mind will make me laugh at how fucked up someone else’s life can be compared to mine. 

Monday, August 20, 2012


So this is my attempt at blogging. Never thought I would attempt it but I have opinions, they may not matter but hopefully other individuals can relate or better yet disagree and convey their own intellectual opinions. It makes me feel alienated from the rest of the world when people say that the way to true happiness is through what makes you happy. I feel like everyone has that one true thing in their life except for me, I m sure that I am mistaken but I can’t help thinking about it.
            I came from a very dysfunctional family where most of the love was squeezed out by actual real hatred for one another. My brother’s hatred for me came from me always wanting to hang around him because he was my older brother who was smart but cruel. Even at a young age I knew how intelligent he was and I admired how easily everything came to him but I could see behind his eyes a tortured soul. We don’t talk anymore but I still dream about us reconnecting one day. My hatred for my little sister came from being insensitive and maliciousness. She knew I didn’t like her and she fed off of it. She grew up to be a very strong woman but also a very spiteful and devious bitch. My sister is only out for herself and will do whatever is in her power at equalizing what she feels is right with a nasty retribution. For me, I am a master at completely shutting anyone who is close to me. Obviously I do it so I don’t get hurt but of course that is never the case. Wow, this turned fairly personal pretty quickly, lol.
            Ok, so the point I m trying to make is that I feel like the love, even the smallest amount, that was supposed to surround our little family was vacant and now I m just attending school to receive a diploma of English because it interests me and I don’t really love it, or anything for that matter. I may enjoy it for a while but like everything else I grow tired of it and look for something new to perhaps love. I guess that’s why any long term relationship I have been in doesn’t really last or grow, it just kind of blooms in the beginning but where is it supposed to go from there? Like everything else it slowly decays and becomes mulch.
            The only real thing worth a pursuit that I can consider to love for the rest of my life would be movies. When I was a kid of about 5, my sister, brother and I would always watch movies with out dad when he had us for the weekend. It was the only concrete thing that we could ever expect of him, that and his inability to be reasonable with anything that might have challenged the way he thought. He would always make us sit down and watch movies with him and they were always horror movies: Candyman, Chucky (the number one scariest movie for me by far), Invaders from Mars, and countless others that I cannot remember the titles of, only creepy images from my past. We weren’t even allowed to talk during the movie, just sit in front of the couch and sit as far away from his as possible so not to be grabbed during a frightening scene and scared shitless by his scream and then great displeasure as he laughed about how terrified he made us feel. Contrary to how I may make this sound it is actually one of my fondest memories of my father. We always knew that the death grip from his overly strong grip was just seconds away from grabbing our shoulders and shaking us from the reality of Candyman gutting another victim. He was there to show us that it was just a movie and these kind of movies were to be taken lightly and enjoyed, even though that fucking Chucky doll still haunts me to this day. I can’t even go inside a Spencer’s Gifts because I know they sell that shit eating grin of a doll.
            Anyways, I figured the best way to incorporate movies with my English degree is to start writing about movies from my perspective, even though it may have already been said in a thousand different better ways. I watch movies daily and cannot think how my life would be if I wasn’t able to. Growing up, kids would buy CDs (back in the day before Napster changed everything) and talk about singers; I was the kid who wanted to collect movies and where the inspirations came from to make a movie possible. A lot of my memories are connected with movies; for example we always had Super Bowl parties at my house and all of our friends would come over to watch it with us but right after my brother would show Evil Dead, but show it in our room with the door closed and away from all the parents because we were still too young to be watching that kind of absolute awesomeness. Sitting there with our friends watching an hour and a half of Ash hacking up his possessed friends is a memory I wouldn’t change for anything.
            So I guess it be foolish for me to feel like I don’t have that one true love guiding me in my pursuit to happiness. With so many cherished memories attached to movies it would be asinine for me not to pursue them in everyway possible and incorporate them into much of my future. They will always be there and I will always be there to enjoy them.
            I was recently reading an article in Little White Lies, easily my favorite movie publication, where Tom Hardy was being interviewed and he talked about his experiences when watching a movie. He said that if you are watching a movie with him and he isn’t speaking then the movie has done its job and transported him to another place and he is no longer just watching the movie but he is now apart of it. Tom pretty much nailed how magical a film can be. Of course not all movies are made to do this but for me to have that transcendental experience is why I watch movies. Movies can evoke those certain emotions that may stay hidden in our daily lives but when that projector is rolling we feel for each character as if they were apart of us. Our sympathy, love, hatred, pity, sorrow, guilt, etc are all genuinely portrayed during these experiences. That’s why whenever you hear someone say ‘it was like a scene from a movie’ after a surreal experience in their life it’s because in those moments all those emotions, like the ones we feel during a film, are genuinely felt in reality. We try to gage and rationalize these moments through past experiences but when there are none for us to grasp onto we judge them based upon a vicarious experience we have felt, a scene from a movie. The line distinguishing reality is erased when we partake in this experience, and that blows my fucking mind.
            I have no real goals with this blog, other than to communicate my ideas and opinions through something that which I love. I hope that someone will enjoy it and please, please, please if there are any comments you would like to communicate, good or bad (especially bad), please feel free to let me know. Thanks