1 Giant Leap in 9 Little Parts

Perhaps the most spiritual but yet secular film that I have encountered in years is Duncan Bridgeman and Jamie Catto’s 2002 experimental-documentary production 1 Giant Leap. The film divides itself into 9 chapters, each investigation the theme of it’s title: Time, Masks, Money, Confrontation, God: Faith, God: Blasphemy, God: Unity, Inspiration, Sex, Death, Happy. Each chapter fuses interviews with notable artists, musicians and scientists such as Kurt Vonnegut, The Mahotella Queens, Neneh Cherry and more, with an ethereal, pervasive soundtrack of the musicians’ music.  The nature of the chapter themes as well as the diversity of its interviews push us realize a kind of cross-cultural unity as we all wade through an age of capital and technology with similar hopes, questions and fears.

One of the challenges in viewing the film is that if you are not well-versed in music, you will have a tough time identifying many of the artists who are interviewed and shown singing and recording their music. Unfortunately Bridgeman and Catto do not identify them verbally or using any kind of label inserts so you’re left to assume that they’re famous. Even speaking outside of music, I had no idea that the old man with the salt and pepper hair was Kurt Vonnegut.

This is definitely a film which requires patience and an open-mind on the viewer’s part. Imagine trance music. Now imagine a trance film. And in many ways that sums up 1 Giant Leap: 3.5/5.

R. Kelly: Spawn of Narcissus

The time had come when enough of my friends and random people with whom I exchange film lists convinced me to see all twenty-two chapters of R. Kelly’s hiphopera saga, Trapped in the Closet. Now that I try to describe the film, it brings me back to my initial internet search for a synopsis. On imdb, Rotten Tomatoes, and even Netflix there’s really no decent summary of what goes on in these two oh-so-hyped hours. But now that I have seen it, I know exactly why.

Trapped in the Closet is this amalgamation of queer (and when I say queer, I mean it in both the general and queer theory senses) relations, where everyone – with the exception of his Highness R. Kelly – is somehow involved in an affair, in drugs, in crime, in guns, or in cherry pie. There are so many twists and turns in this plot there’s no palatable sane way to describe it. The only sure thing in the film is Mr. Man R. Kelly. As Paul Reinsch has noted, his presence in every scene, the use of no other narrating voice than his (even on the directory’s commentary), and that fact that he is the only one uninvolved (at least directly) in some perversion of life, make him stand out as the ultimate symbol of narcissism.

That said – and I feel awful saying it - but this hour and a half of my life was pretty laugh-saturated. Another guilty pleasure that really defies any rating system, go see it and find out what all the hype is about.

Spanish film? Film in Spanish? Latin American film?

As someone who looks to film as a socio-cultural linguistic tool, the confusion that arise regarding film not in English – and particularly film in Spanish – really gets my goat. Thus I offer these words to save those at the brink of committing an offense.

 

“Spanish film” is a descriptive film phrase often bandied about to erroneously describe films that are in Spanish. Even upon mentioning the distinction between the two, I have seen many a listener brush it away nonchalantly. It might be difficult to imagine that Spanish film refers to film made in a single country in Europe; however, that is what you are communicating through the phrase “Spanish film” (and even then, we can argue that you are only referring to film from certain parts of Spain). If you desire to generally comment on films in Spanish but not from Spain, you can simply say “Spanish-language films” or “films in Spanish.” If the film is from Central or South America and you care to specify it as such, then do say “Latin American film,” but since the film cultures and language dialect are hugely different within the two dozen or so countries that form this great continent, the best course of action would be to just take the initiative and find out where the film was made.

 

The BBC version of Pride and Prejudice with Colin Firth is in English – but you would never mistake as an American film, right? It’s the same with Spanish, so resist ethnocentrism and make the courtesy visit to imdb.

The “Do what it takes” attitude. Tell me what you really mean.

With graduation looming ‘round the corner, the question of money – and thus jobs – inevitably comes into play in everyday conversation and internet activity. Like many, I use Craig’s list as one source of job listings, and lately, we’ve been rather close (Craig and I). In so being, I’ve not only had the opportunity to see posting after posting for which I’m simply unqualified, but I’ve also been able to engage in a close study of the language of our most beloved internet tool.

 

One of the most popular and hated lines for internships in particular is the glorious “great experience” line, delicate code for “no money no way no how.” Then there’s the infamous modifier “creative” – this is a “creative job,” looking for “creative” individuals. This really means “we have no idea what we’re pitching so be prepared for anything that vaguely relates to media.” My personal favorite, and perhaps the phrase which best embodies the exploitative nature of a career in the arts is, “looking for a do-what-it-takes attitude.” Stay away people, stay away, because those precious words foreshadow the end of your social life, the transformation of weekends into workdays and the uncinching of your belt as you commit yourself to habitual fast food meals on the run.

 

So for those people posting art jobs, keep it real, and tell us what you really mean.

More Moore? No thank you

Last week fate intervened and I saw my first Michael Moore film, Bowling for Columbine. And quite honestly, I was not all that impressed. With the Columbine shootings as his diving point, Moore bashes all facest of American institutions, from education to healthcare. I’m not saying such issues do not need to be re-examined; however, when you only have two hours to tackle a topic, I think it’s not only the responsible decision to make, but the most effective in terms of audience impact, is to limit your scope and make deeper, more precise inquiries.

This notion of precision brings me to my next disappointment, which is that Moore is highly manipulative in his choice of footage and editing techniques. Not only does he prey on emotionally loaded images to effect audience sympathy and support, but oftentimes his portrayal of events is downright false. Jesse Larner notes in “Forgive Us Our Spins,” how the opening scene where Moore proudly walks away from the local bank with a rifle in hand leaves out incredibly pertinent facts. For example, the vault that is always stocked with 500 firearms is not located in that particular bank but miles away in a secure location. Additionally, the only reason Moore was allowed to immediately get his gun at the bank at that particular time, was because he called in advance and insisted his visit play out as such.

I don’t know about you, but to me, this film sacrifices integrity to superficial shock tactics: 2.9/5.

Te doy mis ojos – Take My Eyes

Inspired by an earlier documentary piece entitled, Lovers That Kill, Iciar Bollain set out to make this film, released in 2003, which interrogates the nature and motivations of domestic abuse. It tells the story of Pilar and her husband Antonio, his character being implied from the very first moments of the film as Pilar frantically packs her clothes, wakes and dresses her son Juan and desperately tries to hail a taxi on the dark streets outside of their apartment complex. While the couple spends time separated, Pilar works at a local cathedral and Antonio attends an abusive husbands’ therapy group; yet, hope brings them back together, the result of which are entirely worth the $3 rental.

 

 

This film is a beautiful, thoughtful and profound look into the gray area of domestic violence. Not only does Bollain carefully avoid stereotypes of victimizer and victimized, but her focus on calculated dialogue is so much more meaningful than the oft-writ scenes of explicit abuse. Take My Eyes also shows not just the couple at risk, but how abuse makes ripples in an entire family and exposes the generational differences within:  4.5/5.

Bringing Denny’s to new heights…

So last Thursday through Saturday was the glorious three-day stint of NCUR – the National Conference for Undergraduate Research – in Salisbury, Maryland. Where? Salisbury, Maryland. Yes my people, you might have to get on a double-propeller plane to get there, you might have to cross the highway to eat at the only open restaurant at 11pm (thank god for Denny’s) and there might be a random cemetery sandwiched between the parking lot of the Microtel and Food Lion; but, for 2500 presentations on everything from unpronouncable proteins to the exploring the Jew steroetype in “Scrubs,” you will surely find something to tickle your fancy and distract you from your hunger.

 

 

The way NCUR is set up, is it’s divided into a series of 80 minute sessions. There are oral sessions, where folks read a paper and/or use a powerpoint, poster sessions, where mostly science people discuss their displayed research to passersby, and finally there are performance sessions, where you can rediscover Guthrie in a sound-proof room. Additionally, every day there is a plenary speaker who speaks for an hour giving inspiration from her/his career. To top it off, lunch is free during the conference, and there’s even a beach party (with real imported sand! Hoo-ah) on Friday evening with free dinner and free photos in the mouth of a cut-out shark. Go NCUR go!

Raices de sangre

Jesus Salvador’s Raices de sangre/Roots of Blood (1976) revolves around labor struggles at the US/Mexico border. The film proceeds with two separate but entwined storylines, one of a group of Chicano organizers known as “Barrio unido” working for equal rights, and one of the Mejias family and others employed by an American-owned garment factory in Mexico. It explores the racist attitudes of white vs. Chicano as well as the discrimination between Mexicans and Chicanos.

 

The film’s social message is powerful and it has one zinger of an ending. There are of course, those provisional moments of total corn that only a film from the 70’s with fro-endowed actors can produce. Brilliant. And the silhouetted sex scene that’s trying to be modest is somehow humorously betrayed by the female character’s unusually evident nipples (literally on par with Naomi Watts’ in 21 grams I might add). Yet this film is highly valued for its progressive social content (at least at the time) and is generally seen within the Latin American community as a milestone film: 3.7/5.

CG – the new weight loss program

So I was strolling around the internet the other day when I came upon a picture of Angelina Jolie with that menacing sexual expression she so often wears, with her body half submerged in water, her hair perfectly slicked back. Then Saturday I was putzing around the video store doing my weekly thing, when I saw this same picture on the back of Beowulf.

 

Okay, now I never saw this film but I knew it was all cg. But since Angelina Jolie looks exactly the same as she does in real like, what’s the point of cg?

 

And Ray Winstone? Now I’ve got nothing against Ray, but what’s the point of modeling the main character after him when they’re shaving off all his daddy weight?

Beowulf: biggest example of the misuse of cg of the past decade. Ew.

Vitus

I’ve seen Shine, I’ve seen Amadeus and a score of other films about troubled musicians. Most recently however, I ventured forth into the foreign film section to see a Swiss take on growing up a genius. A 2006 film by Fredi M. Murer, Vitus looks at the pre-pubescent years of Vitus, an incredibly smart and highly talented piano player. Though it seems great to be smarter than all your classmates and the teacher, Vitus’ arrogance and the short rope he’s on with his mom make life not so sweet. The only way for the precocious young boy to escape the trap of his own intelligence is by letting go of what he loves most.

 

There’s something highly unique about this film though it portrays what many films have portrayed in past. Vitus’ suffering doesn’t land him in a mental hospital, nor is there some disproportionately tragic event that determines the fate of the movie. The story is highly realistic in its simplicity and the contrast between his tense relationship with his parents and with his relationship with his quiet grandfather is something you can relate to: 4/5.