JAUJA

This was originally published for cutprintfilm.com back in March of 2015. But since the site has apparently vanished - I'm posting it here with a few updates as my love for this movie has grown over the last nine years.

This is also the perfect time to revisit Jauja with it's loose sequel set to be released soon (click here to read)

Before going in to Jauja – Lisandro Alonso’s latest multinational semi-surrealist period drama, please erase any & all comparisons to the cinema of David Lynch. Between the initial film festival reports and the IMDB message board discussions, I found that Lynch was the most commonly used reference point in a lot of early reviews of this film. While David Lynch is certainly one of the greatest modern surrealist directors to pick up a camera, he certainly didn’t influence every single movie that could possibly be categorized as “strange” or “different”, and Jauja is definitely an example of this (the Lynch comparisons have since cooled off, but I worry some folks will still expect his style of surrealism here when they really shouldn’t). David Lynch did invent nor does he have a trademark on surreality.

For those of you looking for some kind of a comparison (which I feel helps when dealing with a movie like this), I’d place Jauja somewhere in between the cinema of Carlos Reygadas (specifically Japon & Silent Light) and Philip Ridley’s The Reflecting Skin, which, coincidentally, co-stars Jauja leading man & film score composer Viggo Mortensen (the criminally underrated Reflecting Skin was one of Moretensen’s earliest roles). The multi-nationalism/multi-culturalism that we see in Jauja is reminiscent of the Danish/Latin-American hybrid dialogue in Silent Light, while the rural environment and gorgeous landscape shots, courtesy of cinematographer; Timo Salminen (with the subconscious influence of Nestor Almendros), are right out of The Reflecting Skin (the exploration of boredom within The Reflecting Skin also appears to be a possible influence on Alonso’s latest film). There’s also a touch of Kelly Reichardt’s Meeks Cutoff in that Jauja is more of a realistic “road movie” that shows the grueling side of making a long journey prior to the invention of the automobile (and even with cars, road trips were far from glorious). And like Meeks Cutoff, Jauja challenges what one might expect from a western.

There is something in that story in terms of the visual poetry and his use of time, the simplicity of his shot selection… all that reminded me of Tarkovsky’s movies, which I like a lot - Viggo Mortensen, electricsheepmagazine.co.uk

Solaris /
Jauja

 

Set in the 19th century (…or is it?), Danish general “Gunnar” (Viggo) is stationed on an outpost in Argentina on a mission to ultimately rid the Patagonian land of its indigenous people (this aspect of the movie plays the background but should not be forgotten). When his daughter “Ingeborg” unexpectedly runs off with a young soldier, Gunnar sets out to find her but slowly loses his mind in the process similar to Chris Kelvin in Solaris (in fact, the environment surrounding Gunnar on his journey almost mimics the planet of Solaris). Like some elements in the cinema of Andrei Tarkovsky, the last 10-15 minutes of Jauja is an especially trippy (although calm) journey in to the subconscious (I know Tarkovsky is another overused reference point in film criticism but the comparison to Jauja is reasonable in my opinion). The relationship between fathers & daughters can sometimes be complicated and Lisandro Alonso gives us an abstracted view in to this relationship.

Yeah, it made me think of Tarkovsky a lot, just that unhurried pace - Viggo Mortensen, thefilmstage.com

The Mirror / Jauja

 

Stalker / Jauja

Jauja has the tone & pacing of a four hour long movie when in fact it’s under two hours. You’d think when a filmmaker only has 110 minutes to spare they wouldn’t waste the audiences time with long unbroken shots of horses drinking water or characters just sitting around but Lisandro Alonso doesn’t seem to care. Personally, I find that commendable. For quite some time I’ve been advocating for more movies, both mainstream & “art-house”, to have less talking and Jauja definitely answered my personal request. At its core, this is a meditative film (with hints of issues like colonialism & the ownership of land) that borders on a feature length experiment. Not only does Alonso test our patience with the pacing, but the cast of actors is a mixture of professional & non-professional (that’s always a crap shoot). The script was also co-written by a poet (Fabian Casas) rather than a traditional screenwriter.

Solaris /
Jauja

 

This film is also impressive because of Lisandro’s age. While he certainly isn’t young (39), Jauja at times feels like the final film of an 80-something year old filmmaker going through a personal existential crisis. Lisandro Alonso has a bit of an old soul and it shows here.

I wouldn't be surprised if Dreyer was a subconscious influence in addition to Tarkovsky...

Day Of Wrath / Jauja

Summer With Monika / Jauja

  

Another important factor to be aware of here is that this film is not for everyone (if you haven’t already figured that out by now). I know that sounds like one of those copout excuses for a slow “art-house” movie, but Jauja has very little dialogue (when compared to more “traditional films”) and the overall pacing is very slow (even the conversations and exchanges of words between the actors is a bit delayed). Casting popular/established/well-known actors like Viggo in films like this can sometimes be problematic. Although this won’t be screening at a multiplex in midtown Manhattan or downtown LA, Viggo Mortensen’s name is still synonymous with names like Peter Jackson (The Lord Of The Rings trilogy) & David Cronenberg (A History Of Violence & Eastern Promises) and this could potentially attract the wrong demographic. I remember all the disappointed movie-goers complaining about how “nothing happened” in the Matt Damon/Casey Affleck-starring Gerry or how “boring” Broken Flowers was in comparison to most other Bill Murray movies. Jauja is not your typical film in the Viggo Mortensen cannon so don’t expect a lot of “action” (although some of you will be happy to learn that around the 62-63 minute mark, there is some mild action). Actually, if your favorite part of LOTR was the journey involving Frodo & Sam schlepping through middle earth for what seemed like an eternity, perhaps you just might enjoy Jauja.

This is the kind of movie that will be unfairly labeled as boring & pretentious by some and hastily called a beautiful work of art by others. After almost a decade of re-watches and over-analysis on my part - I personally think this is a masterpiece. 

ZAMA

We’re all familiar with the “Acid Western” (Six String Samurai, Roadside Prophets, Straight To Hell, Dust Devil, Dead Man, etc) but the “acid historical drama” (the genre that Zama very much falls under) is often overlooked. From Aguirre: The Wrath Of God To Valhalla Rising and so many more in between (Walker, Cobra Verde, Marie Antoinette, Jauja, etc), the acid historical drama has always been kicking around but hasn’t gotten the same recognition as other “alt” movie genres.
“Acid” films do have plots but they’re also trippy (hence the “acid” label), atmospheric, sometimes aimless and occasionally unflinchingly violent. Zama is all of those things and more (I wouldn’t dare call it a ghost story but you do find yourself questioning who and/or what is real from time to time). By the final act you start to question the meaning of any & everything as we age along with our protagonist...

Diego De Zama at the start of Zama (L) and the end of Zama (R)

The aging of Diego De Zama is pretty similar to that of Florya in Come & See (and by the end of their respective films they’re both quite broken).

Come & See

Lucrecia Mattel’s latest film certainly follows down the same path as the aforementioned stories but it also stands out on its own due to the piercing (colorful) visuals and isolated moments of harsh violence. That's what’s so disorienting about it. It’s an incredibly dreary and sometimes violent film but the color palette would have you think otherwise (bright beautiful colors often give off a more positive & energetic vibe).
And that’s not to say other films don’t have their share of violence. It's just that Martel’s is a bit more brutal in my opinion. I love Nicolas Winding Refn very much but the violence in a movie like Valahalla Rising is intended to be entertaining to some degree. That’s not really the case with Zama. With Valhalla Refn wants his audience to cheer while Martel wants her audience to look away it fright.
But Valhalla Rising shouldn’t be dismissed. Especially in the case of Zama. Both films have strong visual & thematic similarities on a skeletal/surface level

Zama / Valhalla Rising

My arrogant side cringes at the thought of comparing something to Stanley Kubrick in 2017 (because honestly what film can’t be compare to Kubrick with decent writing and/or a long-winded rationalization?). But on a visual level Zama kind of feels like the color palettes from the bathroom scene in The Shining turned up slightly. And I appreciate Lucrecia Martel’s use of color in Zama because while the entire film is beautiful, the piercing colors (specifically greens, oranges & reds) are sprinkled throughout the movie or in the background rather than shoved down our eyeballs from start to finish...

There’s nothing like waiting on a film for years that actually delivers (in the case of Zama we’ve waited almost a decade for Lucrecia Martel to put out a new feature). This movie delivered tenfold in fact. This isn’t exactly something I’d blindly recommend to anyone (although I wouldn’t be mad at this being someone’s introduction to Lucrecia Martel’s work) but at the same time you don’t have to necessarily belong to the (“arthouse”) audience that this movie is primarily geared towards in order to enjoy it. If you’re a history buff or watch those expedition shows on A&E or the history channel then there’s no reason a Lucrecia Martel novice couldn’t enjoy Zama.

This is new territory for Martel given that this is a period piece. The basic plot centers around the existential plight & loneliness of our main character Diego De Zama - a court councilor stationed on a remote colonial outpost waiting to be transferred back home. At the start of the film he’s already somewhat miserable & alone and things only go downhill from there (he agrees to take on a vague mission that truly tests his will).
Race is also a secondary plot. It should be noted that the Black characters in the film (who are all slaves of course) say either nothing or very little but their presence is still profound. The way the camera focuses (and lingers) on the Black characters is very intentional.

But while this is Lucrecia Martel's first movie set outside of modern times, it still fits with the rest of her filmography. La Cienaga may not to be a traditional “history lesson” but it is a peak in to Latin-American culture much like Zama. Diego De Zama is also going through the same kind of existential crisis as Veronica in The Headless Woman.
The biggest strand of connective DNA is the element of loneliness & isolation. Diego De Zama is very detached. This is also a common theme in the work of fellow Argentinian filmmaker Lisandro Alonso who, like Lucrecia Martel, recently delved in to the acid historical genre with Jauja (2015). From La Libertad to Jauja (which is a first cousin of Zama) the characters in Lisandro Alonso’s universe are often alone and/or isolated just like Diego De Zama.

Here I was, in the midst of a vast continent that was invisible to me though I felt it all around, a desolate paradise, far too immense for my legs. 

This excerpt taken from the book that inspired Lucrecia Martel’s latest film truly sums up the story of Zama as far as I’m concerned.


the loneliness in Zama is similar to the art of David Caspar Friedrich...

At the end of Zama, Diego is asked if he wants to live and his response (if you wanna call it that) is rather cryptic & open-ended. Zama is the personification of complex as it is both dreary & beautiful. It hasn't even been 24 hours so I wont give any hyperbolic final statements on it, but this is one of the best films I've seen this year.

THE EMPTY BOX (TIFF 2016)

If you followed me on Twitter (@PINNLAND_EMPIRE) or Facebook this past September then you'd know that The Empty Box was in my top 10 coming out of TIFF (it'll probably be in my top 10 of 2016). But it's one of the only films, along with Prevenge, that I instantly gushed about on social media but didn't actually write about right away like I did with The Untamed, Moonlight, Loving & many more. I needed time to collect my thoughts with this one. It's not that I relate to The Empty Box on any kind of a personal level, but it does deal with certain issues that I'm very passionate about (race, family, the unfair baggage that sometimes comes along with darker skin, etc). This film also reminded me of so many other films & filmmakers that I love without feeling like it stole from or even heavily borrowed...

For those of you that are familiar with Claire Denis' 35 Shots Of Rum, imagine The Empty Box as kind of like the anti-35 Shots Of Rum. Both films do have striking similarities in that they focus on young attractive mixed race female leads (their racial identities do hold some importance in both films which is why I brought it up). Both films are essentially family dramas about the relationship between a father & his daughter (the mother/wife is only mentioned in past tense or shown in flash backs). Both movies are also directed by women. But 35 Shots & Empty Box greatly differ because one (35 Shots) is about the healthy relationship between a father & daughter, while the other film (The Empty Box) is about the unresolved/complicated/contentious relationship between a father & daughter. Our young female protagonist in 35 Shots loves her dad and has no problem trying to take care of him (even though he doesn't need/want anyone to take care of him). The female lead in The Empty Box ("Jazmin") is kind of forced to take care of her father ("Toussaint") because he's in the early stages of dementia and has no other friends or family to look after him.
The most difficult part in all of this for Jazmin is that now that Toussaint has dementia, she'll never be able to convey her past hurts to her father and have them hold the appropriate level of importance given his deteriorating mental state.

But putting the movie comparisons aside, The Empty Box is its own unique viewing experience. It's partially a lucid dream in the vein of Lucrecia Martel or a recent Carlos Reygadas film (oops, there I go with the comparisons again...). The flashback scenes (which make up a nice portion of the movie) are also a little skewed and almost dreamlike. Director/actor Claudia Saint Luce takes us back to Jazmin's childhood (where we see how tough & cold Toussaint was to her), and we also see how her parents met. But given the subtle lucidness of the movie, I'm left wondering if these flashbacks & back stories are 100% true or slightly skewed (dementia, sanity & memory loss are major factors in this movie so it wouldn't surprise me if those things crept in to the structure of the movie). If you happen to be lucky enough to see this, don't feel bad if you don't catch everything or if you feel a little lost. Parts of The Empty Box are meant to be surreal. Going back to Carlos Reygadas for a moment (specifically Post Tenebras Lux) the editing in The Empty Box seamlessly weaves in & out of reality, (possibly skewed) memories and lucid dreams.

It would have been easy to compare lucid surreality to something generic like Tarkovsky, Epstein or even Fellini, but The Empty Box & Post Tenebras Lux really feel like close first cousins in that they're both personal semi-surreal Mexican-based stories that casually touch on issues like race & skin color. I know this is something I say a lot but I feel like both movies exist in the same cinematic universe. However The Empty Box is a little more grounded in reality because it focuses on the specific relationship between a father & daughter and doesn't really veer off in to the deep random corners of the subconscious like Post Tenebras Lux.

The relationship between fathers and daughters can get very muggy & complicated. I know that's common knowledge but still... Even in cases where Fathers want to protect their daughters at any costs (either physically or in terms of instilling important life lessons) there's that invisible barrier that causes friction because they come off as over-protective, overbearing or off-putting (especially to young girls/teens). Even the wisest of men can (try to) instill lessons on their daughters but Fathers still won't experience life as girl and/or women so they'll never fully understand the hormonal/emotional component that comes along with being a woman. And that works both ways. Women will never fully understand how the male brain works no matter how much they sometimes like to think they do just because we may operate on more simplified emotions/cylinders. The protective motherly instinct that kicks in with a lot of women isn't always needed and when their help is turned down, it's taken personally. The Empty Box doesn't touch on all of these things but it does delve in to some of these issues.

This film holds a special place in my heart because Claudia Saint Luce actually acknowledges that Haiti exists. Bottom line - Haiti is misrepresented/damn near non-existent on the big screen. Furthermore, the tension between Haitians & Latinos (specifically Dominicans) is not addressed on any major/semi-major cinematic platform (I saw a short film on it two years ago but it was a kind of amateur-ish). The Latino/Latin American point of view in The Empty Box is Mexican, but a lot of the racial jabs and other hints & implications concerning race & skin color (Jazmin makes a snide remark about her father's dark skin early on in the film) do ring true to the Dominican/Haitian relationship. I've always found it funny when Dominicans act as if they have absolutely nothing in common with Haiti, or just Black people in general, even though they share some of the same DNA right down to the nappy hair, and, in the case of Haiti/Dominican Republic, they share the same land. That isn't to say Dominicans don't have their own separate culture outside of Haiti, Africa or other dark skinned/Black cultures, but their (sometimes) denial of having anything to do with anything Black is both sad & transparent...

The Empty Box - which not only gives Haiti a small voice and quietly addresses issues concerning race - won't get the same kind of release as other major/crossover indie/arthouse films but this is still a start (I don't know what kind of release this movie will get outside of a possible streaming platform and a multi-region DVD release down the line). While this film is based in Mexico, half of the story is told from the perspective of Toussaint who is Haitian. I can't think of too many prominent films with a prominent Haitian protagonist.
It's really a shame that The Empty Box might not get the initial exposure it deserves because it fits in perfectly with the new (somewhat progressive) black film canon made up of movies like Mother Of George, Newlyweeds, Moonlight & Black Venus. If you have the opportunity to see this film I recommend it.

BLEAK STREET

The fact that Bleak Street was essentially marketed as a (Mexican) arthouse movie made me immediately associate it with Carlos Reygadas' brand of cinema because he's the most prominent voice in that specific world right now (which is weird because Bleak Street director Arturo Ripstein is Reygadas' elder). And the wrestling angle (specifically Luchador style wrestling) was just an added bonus. I'm a fan of “arthouse” cinema & professional wrestling. It's like this movie was made with only me in mind (without reading any synopsis on Bleak Street beforehand, I saw the image at the start of this review and was immediately hooked).
The Cinema of Carlos Reygadas has spoiled me/opened my eyes in terms of how Mexico & Mexicans are portrayed on film (I'm well aware he isn't the first Mexican filmmaker to paint a broader picture of his/her country, but he's my personal favorite in that realm). Mexicans have faced some of the same stereotypes & misrepresentations on film as Africans. The difference is that instead of apartheid, genocide, poverty & struggle (the main themes explored in mainstream/prominent African-based movies), Mexicans are portrayed as drug addicted/drug dealing prostitutes (usually by non-Mexican filmmakers of course). Naturally there are exceptions (I'm speaking generally) but I think we can all agree there are shitty stereotypes attached to Mexicans and a big part of that comes from movies. Period.
Just look at a recent film Sicario. While I like that movie very much it's still another prominent film to portray Mexico as this savage land (a chunk of the story takes place in Juarez). The minute we see the characters cross the border in to Mexico, we see mutilated bodies hanging freely out in the open. I’m not so clueless to know that Juarez was (still is?) one of the most dangerous places on the planet (some statistics indicate that Juarez has become safer over the years), but Sicario still perpetuates certain stereotypes about Latinos on the big screen. I may be projecting my own worries but the more stuff like Narcos, Sicario & Breaking Bad exist (all things I enjoy by the way, the tougher it is to sell the educated  Latino in mainstream film.

I've been selling Bleak Street to folks as an arthouse film about Luchadors but it's really more than that (a lot more). The film follows two elderly prostitutes each with their own personal issues at home. One struggles with depression & loneliness while the other has a sexually confused husband. At the same time we follow two up & coming midget Luchadors with dreams of making it big. The prostitutes are eventually hired by the Luchador wrestlers to celebrate after a show. The women set out a plan to rob the midget wrestlers but things go horribly wrong. There's an interesting dynamic between the two sets of main characters in Bleak Street. The prostitutes are "over the hill" (if that's appropriate to say about prostitutes) in terms of looks & clientele, while the Luchadors are at a point in their careers where they can still attain more success and just be a little more optimistic about life.

Luchador wrestling is a constant element throughout the film. As we've established, two of the main characters are wrestlers of the Lucha Libre variety, there are flyers for wrestling events visible in the background of a lot of shots, and the film shows a bit of the training process that goes in to Lucha Libre. For those that don't know, Luchadors are a little different than American-style wrestlers. Lucha Libre consists of acrobatics, gymnastics, heavy choreography & martial arts whereas American-style wrestling is more character driven, strength driven, and theatrical in terms of behind the scenes storylines.

There's an incredibly strong nostalgic quality about this movie that takes over inside me and I highly doubt most people that this film was marketed towards can fully relate. Growing up I was the one kid in my group of friends that truly loved wrestling (I had two other friends who liked it in a casual way - shoutout to Ahmad & Tom - but overall it was a joke to most people and I got shit for liking it). When I discovered the cultural importance of Luchadors/Mexican wrestlers in my mid-teens it instilled a little more pride in me and made me feel less ashamed for liking wrestling. Seriously – if you think pro-wrestling is popular in America, go to certain parts of Mexico where wrestlers are considered gods. They even wear their masks in non-wrestling settings (for those who have seen Bleak Street and don't believe the angle about the wrestlers keeping their masks on all the time in public, I assure you that is very real in certain parts of Mexico as their masks have cultural, religious & generational importance).

What's strange is that for such a popular form of sports entertainment, art-house/indie cinema seems to explore pro-wrestling more than mainstream cinema. Darren Aronofsky gave us The Wrestler, Guy Maddin made the short film Sombra Dolorosa and there are elements of Lucha Libre in Carlos Reygadas' short film This Is My Kingdom (you can even go back further to Alejandro Jodorowsky's Santa Sangre)

The Luchador In Arthouse Cinema...

This Is My Kingdom (Carlos Reygadas)

Sombra Dolorosa (Guy Maddin)

Santa Sangre (Alejandro Jodorowsky)

and I'm a little disappointed that Bane's background as a Pro-Wrestler was ignored by Christopher Nolan in the last Batman movie. Original artwork even shows him in a wrestling ring...

and his signature mask is modeled after the Lucha design...

and while we're on the subject of Bane, wrestling & Christopher Nolan dropping the ball, am I the only one who felt that Brock Lesnar should have played Bane in the last Batman movie? Tom Hardy did a fine job but in terms of body-type, Brock Lesnar would have fit beautifully...

Anyway...Bleak Street does have a lot of the stereotypical stuff I mentioned earlier but it's handled in-house instead of by an outside director (director Arturo Ripstein is Mexican) which is fine by me. Carlos Reygadas is one of the most important voices for Latin American cinema but there is an undertone of elitism in his work that not everyone can relate to. It's good to explore the more cultured side of Mexico (as a black person/person of color I absolutely embrace the more uppity representation of people of color over coon-ish bullshit), but the impoverished side of Mexico can't be brushed aside either. The main characters in Bleak Street probably don't watch Tarkovsky films or read books by Dostoevsky (two artists Reygadas often references in his movies and in interviews). They were dealt a shitty hand at life and their decisions in the movie are a reflection of that (I also don't want to discredit Carlos Reygadas because he does explore the more impoverished side of Mexico with films like Battle In Heaven). And, most importantly, Bleak Street was inspired by true events so there isn't anything unbelievable or naive about this movie...

the real wrestlers that Bleak Street is partially based on: La Parkita (L) & Espectrito (R)

And what’s crazy is that wrestling and death (or just straight up murder) often times go hand-in-hand. Bleak Street has a subconscious connection to more recent stories like the Jimmy Snuka trial (he murdered a female fan back in the early 80’s and it’s finally being addressed now) and the (accidental) in-ring death of Mexican wrestler Perro Aguayo Jr.


Ultimately, Arturo Ripstein treats wrestling with respect which is something that isn’t guaranteed in the world of art-house cinema as those two entities aren’t often associated with each other and it’s easy for an uppity art-house movie crowd to snicker at the idea of masked wrestlers due to lack of knowledge. Most movie-goers aren't even aware that The Rock is a third generation wrestler (actually, he's a third generation wrestler on his mother's side and a second generation wrestler on his father's side), and he came up in the business. It’s almost like Ripstein went so far as to watch shoot interviews (tell-all wrestling interviews) and read up on the culture in obsessive detail during pre-production of Bleak Street. For example - a common complaint amongst non-Mexican/non-luchador wrestlers is that the wrestling mats in Mexico are too hard and a lot less springy than in the U.S. When you watch the training sequence between the wrestlers in Bleak Street you’ll notice that when they take bumps, the mat doesn’t bounce when compared to the mats you see on TV in the WWE that almost serve as lightweight trampolines in comparison (if you have time to spare, look up shoot interviews & podcasts with the likes of Bam Bam Bigelow & Chris Jericho where they recount their stints working in Mexico as foreigners).

WILD TALES ("THE STRONGEST" & "LITTLE BOMB")

Ever since I started doing the “whole history of my life” series over at The Pink Smoke (which you should all read if you haven’t yet), I’ve started to get a little more personal with my writing here on PINNLAND EMPIRE.
Unfortunately, I lost over 2,000 words in the sixth entry in the series and I don’t have it in me to re-write/revisit what I wrote at the moment (kidney disease, diabetes, etc). Until then, take this lil' gem as a “light" entry in the whole history of my life…

"Little Bomb"

I usually avoid most best foreign film nominees during Oscar season because I never feel that they best represent world/international cinema. Naturally there are a few exceptions like Dogtooth (2009/10), The White Ribbon (2009) & Timbuktu (2014), but generally speaking, movies up for the best foreign film Oscar are always a little "safe" and/or weak for my taste.
Because of this movie-snob defiance of mine, I avoided Wild Tales at first. Besides the fact that it just seemed to show up out of nowhere at the last minute pretty much for the sole purpose of being nominated for awards (in the U.S. at least), I thought it was another one of those multi-character/multi-storyline movies where everything & everyone is somehow connected like in Pulp Fiction or Crash. In 2015 I want NOTHING to do with those kinds of movies anymore (unless of course someone brings something new to the table). But when I discovered that the six stories in Wild Tales were separate and in no way connected (outside of some common themes) I made it a point to see it at BAM and I was pleasantly surprised.

What a rare beast in this post-Pulp Fiction world we live in - a film with separate/unconnected short stories.

While all six (WILD) tales do touch on the same subjects & issues (revenge, coincidence, class, privilege & entitlement), the two middle stories (“The Strongest” & “Little Bomb”, respectively) stood out to me more than anything else.
On the surface both stories play out like that famous Chapelle Show skit; “When Keeping It Real Goes Wrong”...

“The Strongest” centers on two men who take their road rage with each other WAY too far while the appropriately titled “Little Bomb” is about a guy who allows his rage to get the best of him on multiple occasions until it becomes incredibly detrimental. Self control & anger are what binds these two middle stories together and is also what separates them from the rest. The first two (“Pasternak”& “The Rats”) are Pedro Almodovar-ian quirky dark tales about revenge (Almodovar served as a producer on this film), while the last two (“The Proposal” & “Until Death Do Us Part”) are about entitlement & dishonesty among the Argentinean upper-class.
Some of the themes in the bookend stories do seep in to "The Strongest" & "Little Bomb". I don’t think it’s any coincidence that the two guys who clash with each other in "The Strongest" are on opposite ends of the economic scale. And our main character in "Little Bomb" has this strange sense of entitlement (like some of the characters in "The Proposal") and feels that he’s never in the wrong.

But anger & rage are the real issues in the third & fourth stories of Wild Tales...

As I sat watching the [MALE] protagonists ruin their lives over petty nonsense in these stories I couldn’t help but see shades of myself (and just men in general) who have a difficult time letting shit go. The drama in both stories is sparked off by a middle finger ("The Strongest") and the defiance to pay a parking ticket ("Little Bomb"). Seriously, that's it. This film struck a chord in me so much that I mentioned it in a recent therapy session (side note – if you have the means, I recommend any & everyone, especially men who are looking to figure life out, to seek out therapy). I love movies but outside of certain specific films (see: the whole history of my life) I don’t often relate the movies I see to my own personal life (I know that may sound hard to believe but it's true). But Wild Tales was different. And what's strange is that overall this movie was just "pretty good". It's not even a personal favorite of mine.

a driver flipping the bird to another driver in "The Strongest" before things get out of hand

I know I’ve been getting very gender specific on here recently but I don’t really see too many women getting in to fatal roadside physical altercations over a middle finger, or conspiring to blow up the department of motor vehicles over a bullshit parking ticket. Sure plenty of women will get loud and/or belligerent in the face of something they feel is unfair (even at times when they’re in the wrong) but men are far worse in my opinion. When you hear stories of a mass shooting rooted in rage, or an explosion going off or a fatal case of road rage, 9 times out of 10 there’s a man with some bullshit sense of entitlement, behind it.

The longer I’ve lived in New York City and worked as an architectural draftsman, the more stressed & anxious I’ve become. Furthermore, I tend to (momentarily) take a lot of stupid and/or uncontrollable things personally like the characters in the middle section of Wild Tales. I’m almost embarrassed to admit this, but when I’m on the subway and the service starts to go to shit (which it does a lot these days. You’re awful NYC MTA) I get so mad that I have these momentary thoughts of screaming at the train conductor (as if it’s his fault that the service is delayed) or screaming at the sick person on the train holding me up from being on time (as if they decided to suddenly get sick on the train just to screw my day up like I’m that important). When people shove their way on to the train before I have the chance to step off (which is fucking rude), I sometimes want to use my size (6’-3”, 260lbs) to push people out of the way. But as an adult I can't/shouldn't do that (I actually used to do that in my younger days but I’ve since cooled off).

I had a kidney transplant a few years ago. Because of this I’m forced to deal with health insurance companies for the rest of my life (once you have a kidney transplant you have to take anti-rejection medication forever and have to get semi-frequent check-ups). As some of you can imagine, dealing with health insurance companies is a major hassle. You’re trying to fix a situation or get a prescription refilled yet you’re dealing with a nameless dope/humanoid robot reading from a script that usually provides no help to your predicament. Again when this kind of stuff happens – I get so worked up that I develop these scenarios in my head where I find the headquarters to my health insurance company and show up and kick the shit out of everyone who works in the building. But seconds later I calm down and realize how silly that is. Sometimes dealing with health insurance companies becomes so aggravating that I get unnecessarily rude and entitled as if there aren’t millions of other people in the same position as me. That's when I have to breath for a second and realize that the world is bigger than me.

And in all honesty, had I taken care of my health issues earlier on in life, I wouldn't have needed a kidney transplant. This would have eliminated the endless prescription refills and annoying health insurance nonsense.
Some health issues are uncontrollable but in my case I had the power to maintain a healthy lifestyle and avoid all the shit I deal with today. There's a quote from Todd Haynes' Safe that applies directly to my specific situation...

Nobody out there made you sick. You know that. The only person who can make you get sick is you, right? Whatever the sickness, if our immune system is damaged... it's because we have allowed it to be...

Now...there's a lot more to that quote, but on some level what he's saying is kind of true. But we'll dig a little deeper in to my organ failure at some point later this year in part six of the whole history of my life.

"The Strongest"

"Little Bomb"

I work in the design industry as an architectural draftsman. Architecture, design & space planning involves non-stop changes, revisions, additions & reconfigurations. I’m also in an industry where folks will get caught up on text size & font style and where it should be placed on a drawing (seriously, at my previous job we used to spend 45-60 minutes debating shit like this). Basically – nothing is ever finished even when it is finished (make sense?). Unfortunately, I have the kind of personality that when things are done I like them to be done. For good. I’m just not a very nitpicky person. As you can imagine, I’m probably in the wrong industry (going on 11 years now). For years, I used to take all the nitpicky font size analysis and endless revision bullshit personally. I was nasty with my coworkers as if they were trying to make my life miserable when in fact it had nothing to do with them. It’s just the nature of the beast combined with my incompatible personality. The only person to place blame on is myself for taking things so personally. The industry of architecture & design is much bigger than me. No sense in getting worked up over a system I can't/don’t want to change. Had the main character in "Little Bomb" stopped for a minute and realized that he was trying to fight an almost unbeatable system that was bigger than him (and that he was placing blame on everyone & everything but himself) things would have worked out a lot better.

Not being able to let go is ultimately why our protagonists in "The Strongest" & "Little Bomb" meet their downfall. Sure it’s frustrating dealing with the DMV but you can’t resort to acts of terrorism in order to get your way. Yeah sometimes folks drive recklessly on the highway but flipping them off and insulting them, like in "The Strongest", isn’t going to make anyone a better driver. All throughout these two stories in Wild Tales our characters place blame on everyone & everything and hold grudges so deep that they end up dead or in jail.
I’m learning more & more how to not place blame on New York City or the MTA or my coworkers when something doesn’t go my way. Letting go is hard, but living longer (and happier) sounds a lot better.

JAUJA (CutPrintFilm.COM)

read my thoughts on Jauja over at CutPrintFilm.COM

enjoy...

SILENT LIGHT: BORING MASTERPIECE #6

Working with non-professional actors can be a gamble at times because, well...they can’t always act and don’t always posses the skills to convey different emotions or transform in to the character that the story requires. Sure there's exceptions and there are directors out there who have the power to create a world where not being able to traditionally act can work (like the deadpan/almost emotionless world of Robert Bresson) but for the most part it’s a role of the dice. Non-professional teenage actors have been the safest bet in recent years with films like; George Washington, Fish Tank (the lead actress only), Elephant (although it did feature Matt Malloy & Sam Bottoms) and Paranoid Park because these films pretty much just require our lead teenage actors to essentially be themselves (this doesn’t mean that these movies aren’t great, btw). But I can’t think of too many films with non-professional adult actors that have really worked in the last decade outside of a few exceptions. One of those exceptions would have to be the Tarkovsky-influenced work of Carlos Reygadas who somehow managed to get everyday people who have never stepped in front of a camera to cry, murder and have real sex in his first two films (Japon & Battle In Heaven). With his third film; 'Silent Light', he took the use of non-professional actors to another level by using a demographic of people who you'd least expect (Mennonites) and made a film about love, adultery, spirituality and self reflection. Let’s be honest...adultery, spirituality, love, etc aren’t exactly the kinda things that pop in your head when you think of Mennonites. On television and in film they're painted as emotionless people who do nothing but work and fear god. But Carlos Reygadas tried to dispel that myth with Silent Light: the story about a family man ("Johan") who's torn between his wife; "Marianne" and the woman he's been having an affair with ("Esther"). I know the idea of cheating Mennonites may have you scratching your head, but at the same time...why not? We've already seen plenty of films about adultery where the husband who's too busy with work or having an affair with another woman pushes his wife away forcing her to be with another man, or the other scenario where we see the mean, bitchy wife who doesn’t appreciate her husband causing him to look for love somewhere else. Why not put a new spin on the genre by incorporating non-professional actors, religion, faith, spirituality and a BLATANT sympathetic look at the adulterers (which may not sit well with people who have been cheated on in the past).

One noticeable thing that Carlos Reygadas did this time around was draw influence from a director outside of just Andrei Tarkovsky. Don’t get me wrong, the slow, numbing pace and atmosphere of Silent Light is the same as Japon and Battle In Heaven and it has its share of Tarkovsky influenced moments... 

'Nostalghia' - Tarkovsky                     'Silent Light'-Reygadas

but its biggest influence would have to be Carl Theodore Dreyer's Ordet (specifically the funeral scene at the end)...

'Ordet' - Dreyer                              'Silent Light' - Reygadas

Silent Light also bears a striking resemblance to Chantal Ackerman's work in both pacing and imagery. The scene in the beginning where Johan sits at the dinner table and breaks down is right outta the beginning and opening scene of Ackerman's Jeanne Deilman...

'Jeanne Dielman' - Ackerman                      'Silent Light' - Reygadas

Neither Johan or Esther are made out to be bad. They come off as two people who can’t fight their love for each other even if it means destroying Johan's family. Johan and Marianne are probably two of the most complicated & complex characters Carlos Reygadas has ever come up with. There are plenty of films out there where a religious figure (usually some sexually repressed priest) has the hots for some pretty young thing, but it’s also presented as a sin and those characters look to god for help to make these urges go away. But In Silent Light, Johan not only looks to god, but he also goes to his religious father for advice about what woman he should be with. And to Johan's surprise the advice he gets is somewhat unexpected. Although I obviously recognize that what Johan is doing to his wife is dead wrong, I never find myself going; "oh this guy is a scumbag!" like I would do to other cheating male characters. I feel like I should, but I can never bring myself to think that about him like that. There's even a scene where Johan has the nerve to try and get Marianne to look at Esther's point of view about all of this (pretty ballsy for a man to try and get his wife to see things from the perspective of the woman who’s cheating with her husband). And this has nothing to do with me being a man and automatically wanting to sympathize with the male lead. Through the actor’s performance I genuinely believe he's a man who can’t fight love. Marianne's approach to this ordeal is a strange combination of passive aggressive, compliant, hurt with a touch of taking the high road. From the start of the film she's well aware that her husband has been unfaithful to her but her stance in the matter is being quiet and letting him decide who he wants to be with. It’s the kind of performance that will have people debating and arguing forever. Is she just another weak housewife character that essentially allows her husband to be with another woman or is her character a strong saint of a woman who's being the "bigger person" in all of this? That remains to be seen by the end of the film. Johan & Marianne's children are also an interesting element to the story because these naive, cute, innocent-looking children whose presence is felt all throughout the film has no idea of the intense drama that’s going on between their parents (the opening scene where the family has breakfast together highlights this). A lot of the hype around Silent Light came from Martin Scorsese’s praise of the film. Say what you will about Marty as a director these days but his love for (good) cinema hasn’t seem to have left him. Normally I'm not a fan of big name directors like Scorsese giving a co-sign to a smaller, art house film that they had nothing to do with because they're name becomes more synonymous with the film than the person actually responsible for it (similar to how Quentin Tarantino always seems to co-sign a film that has Asian people in it). But that didn’t happen with Scorsese and Carlos Reygadas. What it did do was give this film, which is easily one of the best films of the last decade, the push that it needed because otherwise it may have fallen in to that film festival circuit/one week run at a local art house cinema category.

BEST OF 2011!!!! (*UPDATED*)

TOP 11 FILMS OF 2011:

Every year I try to see as many movies as possible in order to make the most concise end of the year list. I hit up festivals, preview screenings and other special events so I don't miss anything. When I was in D.C. this past spring to judge the DMC DJ Battle, I managed to make time to see 'Bill Cunningham New York'. On 2 recent trips to Paris in the last few months I saw 'The Tree Of Life' and Roman Polanski's 'Carnage' (a film you'll be reading about in a few days on here) weeks before being released in the U.S. I mean what's the point of making a "Best Of The Year" list when you haven't really seen anything, right? As some of you my know from reading the reviews of 'Shame' and 'The Ides Of March' on the flud site, this year in addition to my regular attendance at the New York Film Festival (to see 'Once Upon A Time In Anatolia' & Von Trier's 'Melancholia'), I went to the Toronto Film Fest where I saw over 40 movies in 8 days. This top 10 list below is made up of mostly stuff that I saw in Toronto ('Shame', 'God Bless America', 'Faust', etc). 2011 turned out to be just what I hoped for and more (with the exception of David Cronenberg's disappointing 'Dangerous Method' and Lynne Ramsay's 'We Need To Talk About Kevin'). It was full of surprises like Bobcat Goldthwait's hilarious road movie killing spree/criticism on America in the form of 'God Bless America' and Woody Allen's romantic comedy; 'Midnight In Paris' (this was a surprise for me because I'm not the biggest fan either Allen or Owen Wilson). In fact, the majority of the films on this list below were pleasant surprises with the exception of Nicolas Refn's homage to classic car movies and vintage Michael Mann-style ('Drive'). Michael Fassbender has officially confirmed his spot as one of the top actors with his performance in 'Shame' and we got a nice homage to classic cinema in the form of the Guy Maddin/Mel Brooks influenced 'The Artist'.
Some of these films like the Greek dark comedy; 'Alps', 'Once Upon A Time In Anatolia' and the Venice Film Festival best picture winner; 'Faust' probably won't be released until early 2012, so be on the lookout for those.

So the list goes (in no particular order):


Midnight In Paris
Monsieur Lazhar
Once Upon A Time In Anatolia
The Artist
Drive
Shame
Alps
God Bless America
The Black Power Mixtape
Faust
*A Separation


*UPDATE 02/28/11- at the beginning of January I finally got around to seeing 'A Separation', which is easily one of the best films of 2011.

BEST OF 2010 NOT RELEASED UNTIL 2011:

Not everything reaches the U.S. in a timely fashion. From Errol Morris' amazing documentary about Mormons, kidnapping & cloned dogs ('Tabloid') and Takeshi Miike's homage to classic samurai films ('13 Assassins') to Xavier Dolan's surprisingly great film about a love triangle between three French Canadian hipsters ('Heartbeats'), there's a lot of great stuff that may have fallen under the radar between late 2010 and early 2011. Below is a list of the 10 best films from last year that didn't reach U.S. theaters until this year...

I Travel Because I Have To, I Come Back Because I Love You

I Saw The Devil

Bill Cunningham New York

Heartbeats

Tabloid

13 Assassins

The Silence

Outrage

Essential Killing

The Arbor

HONORABLE MENTION:

From Bertrand Bonello's beautiful period piece on prostitution ('House Of Tolerance'), or the problematic yet rewarding films ('Tree Of Life' & 'Melancholia') to the strictly entertaining ('Bridesmaids', 'Source Code' & 'The Ides Of March'), there were plenty of other great movies this year than just what's listed above. It wouldn't feel right wrapping up 2011 with just 10 movies (sorry but I saw WAY too much this year to not at least mention theses). So here's 10 more movies from 2011 worth mentioning...

House Of Tolerance
The Ides Of March
Standing Silent
Bridesmaids
Moneyball
Tree Of Life
Source Code
Dark Girls
The Skin I Live In
Melancholia

BEST PERFORMANCES OF 2011:

2011 was also great because not only were there so many great movies, but great acting to go along with them. And outside of the disappointing 'Rampart' (starring Woody Harrelson as a crooked cop in one of his best performances to date) there weren't too many performances that carried an entire movie (if you notice, most of the entries on the list below comes from films that are in my Top 10). We saw Albert Brooks step outside of his comfort zone and play a mean, throat stabbing crime boss in 'Drive'. And speaking of comfort zones, how about Vincent Gallo playing an unnamed terrorist trying to survive in the wilderness in the Rambo-esque 'Essential Killing'? And if Michael Fassbinder doesn't at least get nominated for an academy award for best actor this year then somethings wrong.

Vincent Gallo (seriously) - Essential Killing

Michael Fassbender - Shame

Albert Brooks - Drive

Woody Harrelson - Rampart

Charlotte Gainsbourg & Kirsten Dunst - Melancholia

Hunter Mckracken - The Tree Of Life

Christopher Plummer - The Beginners

Brad Pitt - Moneyball & The Tree Of Life

Joel Murray - God Bless America

Aggeliki Papouli - Alps

Forest Whitaker - Mary**
Goegre Clooney - The Descendants

Jean Dujardin & Berenice Bejo - The Artist

Sophie Nelisse & Emelien Naron - Monsieur Lahzar

**movie was made in 2005 but not released theatrically until 2011

Well...2012 is almost here and we're about to begin PINNLAND EMPIRE'S 3rd year. Because a nice portion of my followers are from the myspace days, I suppressed my urge to constantly write about David Lynch (with the exception of "movies for Halloween part 4" and the david lynch tv entry) in an effort to not repeat myself. But in 2012 we're gonna get in to his stuff a little more as well as Apichatpong Weersakul (somehow I manage to go from hating his work to loving it in a matter of months).
I think I've squeezed all I can outta Claire Denis & Michael Mann, so we're gonna take a break from them and focus on new and/or different filmmakers in 2012 (but I do have a review of 'Heat' set for January. But after that I'm done for a while). But don't worry, I'll still find an excuse/reason to write about something Alice Houri-related as I plan to look at Bertrand Bonello's Tarkovsky/Bresson influenced film; 'Tiresia' as well as another short film she recently appeared in that she gave me a copy of back in May. And speaking of shorts, we're gonna explore a lot more shorts from people like Matthew Barney to 'Donoma' director Djinn Carrenard.
There's a few more films from Toronto I'd like to get in to ('Alps' and 'Faust') as well as 'Once Upon A Time In Anatolia', which I saw at this years New York Film Festival.
Naturally, there will be more reviews on the Flud site as well as The Pink Smoke, and I've also slowly been working on an interesting Robert Deniro blog entry. I also didn't really get in to the other films I saw in the Abel Ferrara retrospective at Anthology Film Archives this past year like; 'Mary' (one of Forest Whitaker's finest and most unseen performances), 'Chelsea On The Rocks' and the 'Gommorah' influenced 'Napoli, Napoli, Napoli'. And lets not forget that in 2012 we have new films from Michael Haneke, Terrance Malick, Jim Jarmusch and Steven Soderbergh.

Thanks for following and/or reading and I hope you continue to enjoy the content on the blog.

I TRAVEL BECAUSE I HAVE TO, I COME BACK BECAUSE I LOVE YOU

'I Travel Because I Have To, I Come Back Because I Love You', is now my favorite movie of the year so far (even though it was made in 2009). Sorry 'Heartbeats'. I'm always up for a good road movie, and i think this film pushed the genre one step further, just when it was starting to get a little stale. Believe it or not, I think the 'Brown Bunny' may have been the last ROAD movie to try something new, even with all the problems it may have had. 'I Travel Because I Have To, I Come Back Because I Love You', which is part fiction/part documentary, is about a recently divorced geologist, who's sent on an assignment to survey rocks through out Brazil. Although he does do his job, he also uses this trip as a mini-vacation to try and forget about his ex-wife. He does this by hooking up with various prostitutes in each town he surveys, but it doesn't seem to do anything because all he does is talk about his ex-wife through out the entire movie. Like any great road movie, 'I Travel Because I Have To' does a great job of capturing both; boredom and self reflection. Anyone who's taken a long road trip before knows that after a while you can go through long stretches of absolute boredom, which cause you to think about life and all that other stuff one thinks about when you have all the time in the world. Some critics have compared the film to the work of Chantal Ackerman. I could see how someone would quickly make that comparison, but Chantal Ackerman would never have scenes of random prostitutes (some attractive, some snaggle-toothed) dancing seductively to techno music like 'I Travel Because I Have To' does.
'I Travel Because I Have To' is part of an on-going, loosely connected, unofficial series of road films that focus more on the landscape around the main characters, the road/highway and self reflection, rather than getting in to one wacky adventure after another which is a route that many traditional road movies tend to go (not that I'm criticizing films that do that. I'm a huge fan of films like 'Wild at Heart', 'Two Lane Blacktop' and 'Roadside Prophets'). From the first few minutes of 'I Travel Because I have To' until the end, i couldn't get wim wender's 'Alice in the cities' out of mind (along with wender's other classic road movies like 'Kings of the road' and 'Paris Texas'). Luckily, one of the directors of 'I Travel Because I Have To' (Karim Ainouz) happened to be at anthology film archives for a quick Q & A, and he confirmed my suspicion that he we was in fact inspired by Wim Wenders, specifically; 'Alice in the cities'. So i didn't pull that comparison out of my ass. The director himself confirmed it.

THE ROAD MOVIES OF WIM WENDERS (kings of the road, alice in the cities, paris texas): We all know that 'Easy Rider' inspired a ton of great slightly unconventional films. But i think Wim Wender's work was just as influential. From the 70's up until right now, i seem to notice an evolution in the road movie genre. In Wender's films of the 70's and early 80's, we see our characters shot from a typical distance. However the viewer still shares a closeness and intimacy with the characters. They aren't shot from too far away (i mean, you can only shoot someone from so far away when a big portion of a film takes place in a car), but there's still a considerable distance between the camera lens and the characters.

THE BROWN BUNNY & TASTE OF CHERRY: over time, as road movies evolved, filmmakers gave a closer, almost claustrophobic look to the point where we literally felt like we were in the car with the characters. Anyone who's seen 'The Brown Bunny' should agree. Some scenes in the movie felt like i was sitting right next to Vincent Gallo. The same goes for some scenes in Abbas Kiarostami's 'Taste Of Cherry'.

                                          

I TRAVEL BECAUSE I HAVE TO...: Today, filmmakers; Miguel Gomes and Karim Ainouz take more than just a closer look, but actually put the viewer inside the main character so that we experience everything they do. That's right, the most unique aspect about this film is that you never see the main character at all. The entire film is POV. Because we never see the main character, the dialogue/voice over almost feels like a diary as he curses and at the same tame reminisces about his ex-wife who clearly broke his heart.