Tuesday, June 30, 2009

500 Days Of Summer

There are very few phrases that will almost always make me avoid a film at all cost. "Torture porn," "based on the hit Broadway musical," "tearjerker" and "starring Paris Hilton" are all certainly among them, along with "romantic comedy." Outside of Annie Hall (and some of Allen's other films if they can be accurately described as such), I can never think of a rom-com that I actually enjoy, which is why it felt so strange to actually be excited by the trailer for 500 Days Of Summer. A romantic comedy that actually looks funny? And smart? And doesn't feature Mathew Mcconaughey or Katherine Heigl? Holy shit. Add in the extremely positive buzz and Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Zooey Deschanael as the leads and it became one of my most anticipated films of the summer, so when I found out that I could get free tickets to an advance screening, I jumped at the chance. Thankfully, it met every expectation.
The Annie Hall comment above was no accident, and it's not just the highly literate, fully formed characters, the sense of humor and the repeated references to the films of Ingmar Bergman. While this film is not as insightful when it comes to relationships as Allen's masterpiece, it is the closest any film this generation has come. Tom (Gordon-Levitt) is a writer at a greeting card company, and he believes very strongly in love, fate and finding "the one," which the narrator says was caused by "listening to too much depressing British music and a complete misinterpretation of The Graduate." Summer (Deschanael) is the new receptionist at the office, and she believes that love does not exist, likening it to Santa Clause. On day 1, Tom sees her, and falls immediately head-over-heels, but this isn't where the film begins. First-time director Marc Webb and screenwriters Scott Neustadter and Michael Weber jump around through the 500 days of the title, showing us all of the ups and downs of their relationship, usually in just the right spot. They open around day 300, right after Tom and Summer break up, as Tom's two best friends and his little sister, who is shown to be a far more emotionally mature person than he, try to console him. We see their relationship begin, and even though she always insists that they are just friends, Tom falls in love. This is juxtaposed with post-breakup Tom falling into a pit of depression, trying to find a reason for their breakup, quitting his job and blaming our societal issues with love on "greeting cards, pop songs and the movies." Around day 30, they first have sex, which is followed by a rather amusing, semi-surreal song-and-dance number. After quitting his job, Tom goes to the movies, which, in what is by far the film's best sequence, leads to shot-for-shot homages to the final scene in Persona and the first chess-scene in The Seventh Seal, with Tom and Summer taking the various roles. Later, after meeting at a mutual friend's wedding, for the first time since their break-up, Summer invites Tom to a party at her house, and we see it in split-screen, one side showing what Tom wants to happen and the other showing us reality. Throughout the film, they discuss art, music, film, architecture and every other thing that people hide behind, but they can never really come together and discuss what is happening to them and the state of their relationship, because Tom is right, the conveniences of modernity do stop us from being able to really open up, and unless two people are absolutely perfect for each other, that will not change.
500 Days of Summer is the best American film I've seen this year, but it does have one or two flaws. The first act is one of the most consistently hilarious half-hours I've seen in a film, so, as the second act begins to settle into serious-mode, it slows down a bit. The film manages to avoid most of the Sundance-cliches. It is quirky, but, for the most part, this adds to our love of the characters and is not just for the sake of being quirky. The one exception may be Tom's little sister. Her scenes are pretty amusing, but it almost always feels very forced and contrived when an adult character talks to a child for relationship advice. In all honesty, those are my only complaints. Webb generally avoids the visual flair and lets the characters be the centers of attention, and they are great characters. Both actors give career-best performances (at least from what I've seen from them, which, in Deschanel's case, does not include her widely acclaimed work in David Gordon Green's All The Real Girls) It is impossible not to fall in love with Summer, and not just because she's played by the equally impossible not-to-love Deschanel. She is just an incredibly fun and refreshing presence, plus she loves The Beatles' underrated "Octopus Garden," which had been stuck in my head all week. Tom is the center of this film, and Gordon-Levitt does a great job of humanizing a character that, in the hands of a lesser actor, probably would have come off as just depressing, and maybe kind of creepy. The film's use of music must also be mentioned. It is full of clips from and references to bands that I love, including The Jesus and Mary Chain, Pixies, Belle and Sebastian, The Smiths, Feist, Spoon and Wolfmother. All of this, plus the intelligent and humorous script adds up to what will undoubtedly be remembered as one of the year's best films. 500 Days Of Summer, more than anything else, is a very modern, very great Woody Allen film, and that should be enough to get you to see it when it comes out.
Rating (out of ****): ****

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Almanac Of Fall

There's something kind of strange about going through a filmmaker's work in reverse. It allows you to see the evolution of their style, what they thought worked and what failed. While not entirely intentional, this is basically what I've been doing with Bela Tarr, ever since I first saw Werckmeister Harmonies last year, which is now my favorite film (I only saw 2007's wonderful Man From London a few weeks ago, but that was because it wasn't released here until then). In fact, after watching his vastly underseen (even in the realm of Tarr, whose films are all vastly underseen) 1982 film Almanac of Fall this afternoon, I'm confident that I can now call him my favorite filmmaker. Period. Almanac is an interesting film, forming the bridge between his supposedly realist earlier films (remember, I haven't seen them), and the more difficult, allegorical films to come. It's also the only color feature I've seen from him, and his skill with the full color palate nearly reaches his abilities with black and white. The political allegory and Tarkovsky-esque camera work of his later films is here, but in a younger form, and his other influences, especially Bergman and Antonioni (and, maybe, to a much lesser extent Fellini) are more obvious in this film than in his subsequent works.
The entire film takes place in one large, dilapidated mansion. The outside world is barely shown, only intruding for two brief moments of violence. There are only five characters, and the entire film consists of their interactions. The house is owned by Hedi, a woman of about 60 and her 30 year old son Janos. There is also Hedi's nurse, Anna, who lives with her lover, Miklos. Miklos has recently invited his poor friend Tibor, a teacher to move in as well. The five of them spend the two-hour run-time manipulating and hurting each other, all of them trying to gain money and power over the others, all blaming the others for their problems. Hedi and Anna need each other, but they are always competing, and neither is comfortable with the other. Janos wants Anna, but is far too lazy to accomplish anything. Miklos is an angry man, abusing Anna and manipulating Hedi against the others. Tibor owes money to an undisclosed figure, who sends two men in to beat him. This is shown from the floor's point of view, as the entire sequence (of course done in one virtuoso shot) is shown happening on top of a glass pane. Eventually Tibur pawns Hedi's valuable gold bracelet, which further pulls everyone apart, and eventually breaks up the group, who demand a sacrificial lamb before they can return to their twisted normalcy.
It must be made clear that this is an unpleasant film. The characters cruelty and actions would seem at home in something by Von Trier, whose debut feature had been released the previous year. This has turned off many critics (many may be an overstatement given the film's obscurity, but that is unimportant), but it is necessary. The chamber-play setup as well as some of the character actions, especially the manipulative relationship between Hedi and Anna, shows Bergman's influence on Tarr. The expressive and always changing color palate was created entirely with artificial light and reminded me a bit of Fellini's Juliet of the Spirits, but this may be a stretch. The loneliness of the characters, as well as their isolation within the frame as the film uses more wide-shots in the second half, recall Antonioni. Some have seen the film as a critique of the family in general, and the isolation of the characters, especially during the requisite dance scene at the end (if you've seen another Tarr film, you know what I'm talking about) does support this, but there is more to it.
The main themes of the film (as well as the pervasive long-takes) are what I've come to expect from Tarr. The characters are all unable to accept responsibility for their actions. Tibur blames his financial woes on the situation around him, even though he was the one who borrowed from a shady character in the first place. Janos blames his lack of work on alcohol, not on his own inherent laziness. Miklos seems to blame his problems on Anna, but in reality, he's just not a good person. Anna sleeps with all three men, but says that society is at fault for any problems that it may cause. Through all of this, Tarr is saying that man is always responsible for his own actions, but, with the events at the end of the film, he is saying that human nature always calls for a scapegoat, even when the problems are everyone's fault. Given the strong political undertones of his later films, this could be interpreted as him (correctly) predicting that, while at the time people blamed communism for their problems, they would eventually blame capitalism, and the cycle would go on, with people only shifting the blame and not actually doing anything for themselves. There are a lot of long takes in this film, with each conversation usually being made up of only one or two shots, but Tarr does no rely on them as heavily as he would later. The camera work here is interesting in a different way, as Tarr and his cinematographers shoot from every angle and distance imaginable, as a way of saying that the actions of the characters, and therefore humanity, may not make any real, logical sense no matter how one looks at them. I would not put Almanac Of Fall on quite the same level as Werckmeister or Satantango, but I think I would rank it third among the master's films, which means that you really should see it as soon as possible.
Rating (out of ****): ****