EXTRA CRITICUM

Archaeological Digest Features the Art Room

(cross-posted on Duane’s Lapis Loquens blog)

Two weeks ago David Licata filed an enthusiastic EC post about Werner Herzog’s new documentary, Cave of Forgotten Dreams.  See trailer here.  I had planned to see this and David’s post only whetted my appetite.  As soon as it opened in Seattle, I jumped on it.  Even if you consider your residence some sort of safe cave that you rarely leave, I urge you to get out of there for at least a few hours and go see the cave that Herzog devotes this film to.  Prepare to be amazed. 

Why You Should See Cave of Forgotten Dreams

Not because it’s in 3-D. That’s the last reason to see it. The 3-D is subtle and it works, but it won’t blow you away.

You should see it because it’s a brilliant, thoughtful film full of images you’ll never see in your life. (Unless they build the theme park nearby with a replica cave. Seriously.)

A Haiku Review

Hanna v The Girl
with the Dragon Tattoo. The
freaky blonde kicks ass.

Some Thoughts on Marlon Brando

One of the perks of being married to my wife is that she loves old movies. At the end of a long day, knowing we don’t have enough concentration to work through the Netflix queue, she’ll often say “What’s on TCM?” Then we check out Turner Classics in hopes of finding something familiar that we can enjoy awhile before schlepping off to bed.

The Circus Forever

It’s almost cheating, using a circus as a cinematic backdrop. You have life and death at every turn (lion tamers, tight rope walkers, escape artists suspended upside down while a flame slowly burns the cord they are tethered to, motorcyclists in the Globe of Death), you have humor (well, you have clowns anyway), you have all those bright colors. Is it any wonder filmmakers return to it again and again?

ND/NF & ALW

cross-posted on http://alifesworkmovie.com/blog/

People who know me well will tell you that I’m modest. But there is one thing I’ll drop without hesitation: I directed a film that screened at New Directors/New Films, a showcase presented by the Museum of Modern Art and the Film Society of Lincoln Center. ND/NF showed the early films of Pedro Almodovar, John Sayles, Atom Egoyan, Sally Potter, Wim Wenders, Wong Kar Wai, Guillermo del Torro* -- and those are just the filmmakers I love. There are quite a few more directors on the roster that are now household names, including that guy who made Jaws and E.T. and a few others.

Hey, That Didn’t Suck at All!

Let Me In finally found its way to the top of my Netflix queue, and you know, I liked it. (Here's my grumpy response to the news that they were remaking the original.)

The King's Speech Production Design Most Unorthodox

Big thanks to E.C. pal Aaron Mack Schloff for pointing us to this juicy tidbit. Remeber that fabulously distressed studio from The King's Speech, the one in which Geoffrey Rush did his best work? Well... apparently some other men have also done some of their best work there in roles of a different sort. Who knew that that distressed wall (which, you've gotta admit is pretty amazing) also served as a backdrop for naked gay British blokes in a porno shoot?!!

Here's the full story on Queerty.com.

Sex and Drugs

There are many players in Orgasm Inc. Evil pharmaceutical companies, complicit doctors, good and evil sex therapists, the advertising industry, women’s magazines, sales grunts, me, you, even Oprah. It’s as complex a story as sex is an act, and the genius of Orgasm Inc. is that director Liz Canner tells this story, with all of these players and their motivations, with remarkable lucidity, fluidity, humanity, and where appropriate, humor.

I’m Dangerous with Love

Damage is compelling and damage is dynamic and nowhere is that more evident than in Michel Negroponte’s documentary, I’m Dangerous with Love.

Let’s Get Personal

[cross-posted on A Life's Work blog]

I’ve been thinking about two documentaries: Scott Walker: 30th Century Man and Wild Combination: A Portrait of Arthur Russell. I loved Wild Combination and was luke-warm about 30th Century Man and there are numerous reasons why I responded the way I did to both, but as I think on the films it occurs to me that those involved with the Scott Walker film didn’t get close to him, while those involved with Wild Combination let us get very close to Russell. The titles, both referencing a song by the artist, should be a tip off: Is Scott Walker from the future and therefore unknowable to us 21st Century folks? Apparently so. “Wild Combination” is much more suggestive of what we’ll see: Russell the avant-garde composer and the producer of disco hits, the musician who lived and worked in New York City’s obscure bohemia but wanted to be as famous as Mick Jagger, the shy and awkward man who was uncomfortable in his skin but was forceful and uncompromising in his art.

Black Swan, And The View from Behind First Place

In Darren Aronofsky's latest tour-de-force Black Swan - a film which resides somewhere between The Red Shoes and All About Eve - a heralded but aging Swan Queen is haunted by and ultimately replaced by a new Virgin Swan. The New Swan struggles to inhabit both roles of the White Swan - delicate, fragile, precise - and the Black Swan - manipulative, seductive, loose and free - and is therefore haunted by her own understudy, who is the effortless, living manifestation of the Black Swan.

The Genius of Toy Story

Earlier this week I was giving a bath to my son, Henry. Henry is an enthusiastic bather, always looking for new games. He found his policeman action figure and stood him on the rim of the tub. Thrusting his right arm thrust skyward, in his most “grown up” voice, Henry declared, “To Infinity and Beyond!”

The policeman fell over. Pause.

Cronenberg and I

It is with great glee that I came across this tidbit on boingboing:  David Cronenberg has finished production on a film called A Dangerous Method. Based on Christopher Hampton’s stage play, The Talking Cure, it stars Viggo Mortensen as Sigmund Freud, Michael Fassbender as Carl Jung, and Keira Knightley as Sabina, a patient of Jung’s who would become his mistress. (Bad therapist!)

To Bob With Love

Yesterday the BF and I went to see the documentary WAITING FOR SUPERMAN and, after being reminded just how good my small town education was compared to the dizzying statistics the movie puts forth about just how illiterate the vast majority of up and coming students are, I received a text from my best childhood friend Kristen that our music/drama/band teacher from our days at Mosinee High School had passed away that morning.

Now the man, Bob Hansen, was not a saint. There will be no statue erected in his honor. No marching band. But there should be.