THE NAKED SPUR (1953, Anthony Mann)

This is my second viewing of this psychological western, and it holds up just as well as it did the first time. This is the third of five westerns in director Anthony Mann's pairing with the legendary James Stewart, and it is simply a terrific film. Like with perhaps his most famous film, Winchester 73, Mann takes to the Western genre to tell stories of men struggling to maintain morality in a lawless region of the world. This theme continues here with this film. It is simple and straight-forward story-telling, but done very effectively.

In The Naked Spur, Stewart's character, Howard Kemp, is a bounty hunter who is tracking down a wanted murderer, deep in the Colorado Rockies and wilderness. The film opens with an outstanding action set-piece -- Kemp, by the help of two men whom he stumbled across along the trail, attempt to capture the wanted killer who has himself held up atop a cliff. The sequence is remarkable in how effective it is in its simplicity, slowly building suspense and portraying a genuine feeling of danger, all with epic shots of the Colorado Rocky mountains in the background. It's one of the best scenes in any Western I have ever seen, and it is arguable that the film may actually peak at this point, but luckily the rest is a largely satisfying experience.

Furthermore, upon capturing the wanted criminal -- played by the deliciously sleazy Roberty Ryan -- and his girlfriend Lina, Kemp now needs to transport the two out of the mountains. However, the two men who helped Kemp, a gold prospector and discharged military soldier, are not willing to leave so easily. And once they come into knowledge that Kemp is not a Sherriff but instead a bounty hunter and that there is a considerable reward for the criminal, then the real conflict of the story presents itself, as the two men demand that they come along to transport the wanted murderer and thus get a fair share of the reward. Trudging through the wilderness on horse-back, Ryan's character begins to manipulate the three men against each other so as to scheme and plan for his escape.

The characters in the film all come with a troubled or dirty history. Ryan's character is of course a wanted killer (although it is not known if he is actually guilty). The gold prospector is an older man who has never had any luck, yet he also makes a living ripping off Indians in unfair trades. The military officer was discharged with dishonor for reasons that are initially unknown. Lina has never lived a good life, and she clings to
Ryan's character, always denying any accusations of him being a murderer. Then finally there is Kemp. Stewart gives an effectively conflicted and distraught performance of a man who is on a determined quest for redemption of a tragic past life, but yet has to battle with the idea of profiting from another man's death, one whose guiltiness is questionable. There is an ambiguity to it all which I really dig. And as the story progresses and the men reach closer to their destination, the tension increases. It isn't merely greed which drives this tension, but something even more powerful -- fear. The three men, unable to trust each other as they each know their questionable pasts, continually get egged on and manipulated by Ryan's character. The ultimate struggle for these characters is to survive while trying to maintain some kind of moral integrity in such a lawless, unforgiving wilderness.

And what a wilderness it is. Despite being a film which is largely built around character interactions, what makes The Naked Spur a unique film is that there is a large emphasis on landscape. The technicolor is beautiful, and the on location, epic scenery of the Rock Mountains is at times staggering, which ultimately truly elevates the film as a whole. A landscape that is vast and menacing and lawless as it is beautiful. Order and sanity seems to hang by a thread. During the middle of the film, the group engages in a nasty fire-fight with a group of Native Americans. After the fight has subsided, there is a brief but subtley powerful shot of Stewart's character examining the carnage of the dead Indians lying on the ground, perhaps a simple, passing commentary on the violence against the Native Americans and just the barbarity of it all in the region.

Overall, The Naked Spur isn't a perfect film. There are some clunky pieces of expository dialog, which are at times really unnecessary (although at other times effective). Additionally, some of the romantic bits I found a bit cheesy. That said, I liked the ending much more this time, and even found it surprisingly moving, with the film effectively coming full circle. It's by and large a truly great film. Great acting, great character interactions and development, effectively intense, some outstanding set-pieces, and tremendous scenery. This is a classic, and one of the best westerns I have seen.

9/10

Lessons of Darkness (1992, Werner Herzog)

I think I am starting to get Herzog. Aguirre: The Wrath of God left me very underwhelmed and I didn't like it for some inexplicable reason, but his documentaries (if you want to call them that) seem to really click with me. And Lessons of Darkness is the best film I have seen from Herzog yet, an incredible masterpiece and true visionary film.

Simply put, Lessons of Darkness is one of the most spectacular goddamn things I have ever seen.

Running at only a brief 54 minutes, Herzog presents a highly unconventional experimental documentary, loosely structured with chapters, of the after-math of the Gulf wars and the occurring oil fires. The film is one of the most amazingly audacious and bombastic apocalyptic visions I have ever seen. Herzog edits the film together like some maniacal maestro, with his sparse narration never better, carrying with it an at times biblical presence, as he quotes from the Book of Revelations. So cold and raw and amazing. There are only two (brief) interviews in the film; one where a woman tries to recount the torture and death of her son, but she is so traumatized that she literally cannot speak; and the other between a young mother (a widow) and her young boy, who tells how her young son was stomped on and traumatized so harshly that he won't speak. Whether these interviews were staged or not is not really important to me. In Herzog's visual poem, words cannot describe the destruction and despair, so fittingly it is told through images and sound. The rest of the film, apart from Herzog's occasional narration, is played with silence, save for the booming classical music and the droning noise of oil and water and flames and bubbling oil. The mostly faceless engineer workers, trying to put out the oil fires, at times look like some kind of extraterrestrials standing amidst the geysers of flames.

Additionally, what makes Lessons of Darkness unique is that it refuses to make any cheap political statement. Others have described the experience as like being an alien staring down in bewilderment of the perplexing and reckless nature of the human species, our tendency towards demise, destruction, and death. I suppose some might find this as too overly arty and heavy, but I personally eat this shit up.

Furthermore, it is an unbelievably insane film, with Herzog's depiction of this wasteland being haunting and unforgettable, both staggeringly beautiful and frightening at the same time. It is a hypnotizing experience as you get lost in the chaos of it all. And there are so many images I won't forget. There really aren't many films, if any, that I have seen like this. At only 54 minutes, it left me perhaps wanting even more, but I can't fault it for that. I think Herzog told us all he wanted to tell. I loved this even more than Grizzly Man, which is another masterwork documentary.

10/10 

Sidney Lumet RIP (1924 - 2011)

A legendary American director (and a favorite of mine), Sidney Lumet, has left us today, dead at age 86. Making his departure even more saddening is the fact that, even at his older ager, he was still directing new films, including most recently the much acclaimed heist film of Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, released in 2007.

Despite having an extremely prolific career, his best film is perhaps his feature debut, the classic court-room drama, 12 Angry Men, a film which is amazingly cinematic and transcends its genre and becomes an extremely intense and profound exploration of group interaction -- an endlessly fascinating film which only gets better each viewing and is in my top 5 films.

Network, my second favorite film of his, is a masterpiece in outrageous satire, extremely compelling and brilliantly acted, one of the greatest scripts ever. I have also seen Fail-Safe, Serpico, and Dog Day Afternoon, each very good films and well worth seeing. But alas, there is still so much more to see, so I look forward to exploring more of his work.

RIP

SEVEN SAMURAI (1954, Akira Kurosawa)

I first began to dabble into Akira Kurosawa (and classic world cinema, in general) over a year ago. Despite being the world filmmaker titan that he is, my first encounters with Kurosawa didn't go over as smoothly as expected. But perhaps my tastes are changing, or I am simply becoming more in tune with his style (probably both), but upon revisiting his perhaps most major classic, Seven Samurai, a film which initially underwhelmed me, I can now unequivocally say it is a great film and truly worthy of its mega-classic status.

I'm sure most know or could recognize its plot-line -- after-all, it's been used in remakes such as the western The Magnificent Seven (which admittedly I am not too fond of) and the adequate Pixar remake A Bug's Life. During the 1500s in Japan, a peasant village is continually robbed and brutalized by bandits. When one of the villagers hears that the bandits will return again, this time possibly taking everything, the desperate villagers seek help from seven skilled samurai, whom they can't pay with money but have to instead offer food. Seven Samurai's high popularity isn't surprising, given the fact that the story is remarkably accessible, especially for western audiences like myself. To put it simply, it's basically a Western but with samurais instead of cowboys.

Even with its nearly 3 1/2 hour running time, the film is remarkable entertainment from start to finnish, and most of the time simply flies by. Each of the samurai characters are well-drawn, interesting, and outstandingly acted, with classic Japanese actors Takashi Shimura and Toshiro Mifune being even bigger standouts. Much of the film is a build-up to the long extended battle sequences in the end, yet perhaps the most fascinating section of the film for me is watching the interaction between the samurais and the peasant villagers, where Kurosawa takes time to address the class system. We watch as the villagers amusingly cower away from the samurais, but it is also revealed some of the samurais mild (but still present prejudices), all leading to Mifune's character's powerful, impassioned speech. And yet underneath all that is a tender love-story between the youngest, most inexperienced samurai and one of the daughters of the villagers, a plot-line which could have been cheesy but is instead handled quite effectively. When the villagers and samurai finally gel, it feels real. Through all the character-development and other small details, it has been earned. So while some may say that the build-up is too long, I feel it is perfect and essential to the success of the film.

I would reckon that for about 3/4 of the movie, it is essentially FLAWLESS entertainment. Gripping story, excellent character interactions, great moments of humor, and brilliantly photographed. Kurosawa really knows how to position the camera, actors, and stage the action. Some of the epic shots are masterful, and his use of weather, landscape, and simply the geography of the village is at times incredible. That said, like with his major American influence in John Ford, I feel that pacing wasn't always his strongest suit. And, don't get me wrong -- the film is fast-paced and doesn't have any major issues at all, yet I do find some nearly inexplicable lags in the latter stretch of the film. I feel that it is in the climax of the subplot between the young samurai and the peasant girl, for while it is perfectly developed and essential to the film, it's placement right before the climactic battle strikes me as awkward, and I feel it slightly  drags the film down a tad.

That said, that seriously is my only complaint which, considering its 207 minute running time, is pretty damn impressive. And really, the final battle scene, soaked in rain, mud, and blood, damn near makes up for it. Better yet, the film showcases one of the greatest bitter-sweet endings I have seen in all of cinema. The villagers sing on in celebration from a distance after defeating the bandits, while the remaining alive samurai stand from a far and look on in grief. Even more tragically, the young samurai looks on in the distance as he watches the young girl he loves celebrate with the villagers. Nothing has to be said, their love will be no more, their fleeting romance is over. Both the samurais and villagers, despite living and fighting and dying together in the past month time, will go on their separate ways, and it will be accepted without having to say a word. Kurosawa's masterpiece shows us the power of a united people, how under harsh conditions these social barriers can be shattered, yet in the end we are given a sobering reminder of what powers these barriers still hold.  I find it to be a subtly powerful ending to a great film.

9/10

BOWLING FOR COLUMBINE (2002, Michael Moore)

Being the cliche college leftist that I am (well, really, I am too apathetic anymore to have any true political standing), I should gladly embrace Michael Moore's Bowling for Columbine. I have seen it before, but many years ago, yet I liked it then. I still like it now, but my feelings are definitely mixed. 

Moore essentially takes the horrific Columbine tragedy, but doesn't really focus on it, and instead uses it as a branching point to explore America's gun-violence problems, giving him the opportunity to rant about media-indoctrination, corporatism, and of course FEAR MONGERING. You know, his favorite stuff. And that's okay, but it does get a bit redundant during the film. I imagine there are other good documentaries which strictly cover the tragedy in Colorado that I might prefer more, because while I do enjoy the rather large scope of the film, I have to say that its focus (to me anyway) seems to wander at times.

And of course any time you see a Michael Moore film you have to deal with Moore himself. The way he imprints himself on his films gives it most of its style, for better or worse. I can see this being better on personal projects, but here he can obviously be quite of intrusive, and he a lot of times overshadows the film's content, no surprise. I suppose it comes down to what style of documentary filmmaking do you prefer or find more effective? The one where the filmmaker puts his or herself out in the spotlight with the subject; or films like Hoop Dreams and Harlan County USA where the filmmakers work quietly in the background, letting their subjects tell the story? I think both have their place, and I have to give credit to Moore, because "Bowling for Columbine" is entertaining and well-made, and the satirical approach is fun. However, you could argue that he puts entertainment in front of insights and true journalism. 


It seems that Moore always nukes himself in the final stretches of his films -- where he basically does something that is just too sensational. It's like he lacks confidence in what he is presenting, so he has to bring out the sledge-hammer to make his "point" across. Instead of just making a documentary to explore a subject, he has to provide an artificial climax. It's like the point I made about him putting entertainment in front of journalism. In Fahrenheit 9/11 you have the horrendous scene that essentially exploits a distraught, grieving mother of a fallen soldier; in Sicko you have a ridiculous scene in Cuba, where Moore laughably paints it as some paradise; and here in Bowling for Columbine you have a nasty final scene with Charleston Heston, where Moore becomes an outright bully.

In fact, Moore spends the bulk of the film hammering away at the point that it's FEAR which drives the country to be so violent, stating how in Canada they own as many guns, yet there are no gun-murders to speak of. Yet, then at the end, why go after Heston and the NRA? What's the point if we know that simply owning a lot of guns isn't the cause? Moore sees Heston as an easy target to start a fight with and he ends up essentially bullying him. The whole interview was pointless to begin with, and it ended disgracefully. Sure, Heston and the NRA can be insensitive, as rightfully pointed out by Moore throughout the film, but going after them served no other purpose other than to create some theater. Moore is just needlessly confrontational at times,  often with it going nowhere. Some of it was successful, like the amazing turn-out with the two poor guys who were wounded from the Kaymart bullets -- while some of it was pointless. I often don't feel an angst or passion within these films, but rather a childish, mean-spiritedness -- Fahrenheit 9/11 especially, but also here in this film as well. 

That said, there are some really outstanding interviews, two big highlights for me are the ones with Matt Stone (co-creator of South Park) and Marilyn Manson. There are some great sequences, and there are definitely things in the film which I could get behind. I wonder just how cosy the portrait of Canada truly is, but it wouldn;t surprise me, and the statistics of murder in the US is still appalling shocking, regardless.

So I suppose I am pretty indifferent to the film, but I wouldn't say it wasn't enjoyable, nor was it a waste of time. Moore has a talent as a filmmaker, but unfortunately his egotism and drive for needless sensationalism overshadows genuine journalism which is what is truly needed.

6/10

THE THING (1982, John Carpenter)

As a remake of Howard Hawks' 1950s sci-fi B-movie The Thing From Another World, John Carpenter's The Thing, while initially dismissed by critics upon release, has over the years bettered its reputation and is now rightfully considered the sci-fi horror masterpiece that it is.

Opening with a stunning shot of the frozen Antarctic tundra, Carpenter immediately establishes a sense of place in the desolate and isolated frozen land, as the film begins with a mysterious sequence of Norwegian men flying on a helicopter trying to snipe at a snow dog running towards an American scientific research base. Seeing this, the Americans at the base believe the men are deranged and eventually the Norwegian men are accidentally killed, with the Americans rescuing the chased dog, which they then take under their care. Little do they know, this snow dog has been over-taken by an alien creature which has complete consumed and imitated the canine's body -- a creature we'll call "the thing". An alien organism which, if left alone (in any shape or form) with another living organism, can in fact consume and imitate said organism, without it being remotely apparent to any outside party, making it nearly impossible to determine if the person or animal has been infected. When the "the thing" starts infecting members of the American scientific research base, paranoia, distrust, and chaos ensues.

Perhaps nothing profound, yet the film does an interesting job of exploring group dynamics. As isolated as this small group of men is, everything relies on mutual trust between each and every member, and when that trust is fractured, the cohesiveness that glues this group together now crumbles. Despite the vile nature of "the thing", most of its damage is caused by just sitting back and letting other uninfected individuals destroy each other in reckless mistrust and paranoia. This is an organism which is only bent on survival; it keeps quiet, lurking in the shadows. Carpenter works heavily in ambiguity. More questions are left open than those that are answered. Instead of utilizing dramatic irony in showing us, one by one, who is infected, information is purposefully left out or vague, keeping the audience always guessing if any character at any given time is infected or not. Notice how characters consciously withdraw and avoid each other out of fear of having no one to trust. The audience as well becomes isolated and paranoid, for even the traditional hero character (played by Kurt Russell) is still left ambiguous for much of the film as to what his condition is. The film perfectly puts the audience in exact same position as the characters in the film. And as the film progresses, it becomes clear what kind of world-wide implications the characters face if they cannot destroy this "thing". This is a very bleak and grim film, from the very beginning up until the ambiguous end.

In addition to its psychological aspects,  The Thing of course is famous for its outrageous gore, which is indeed fantastic. Despite approaching 30 years in age, the film and its special effects remain as fresh as ever. Yet is a horror film which works on even more levels as well. Legendary composer Ennio Morricone supplies a wonderfully minimalist musical score which, in combination with the brilliant use of setting and amazing lighting, helps create a thick atmosphere. Working in more subtle ways, perhaps the most deeply unsettling images are the striking shots of the souless eyes of the alien "possessed" dog, as it quietly wanders around the base, the shots so (relatively) simply composed, yet carry so much impact. Carpenter's skill in story-telling and technical mastery elevates what is essentially a B-movie remake into high art -- a brilliant blend of mainstream and art-house sensibilities. This is perfect cinema.

And yet, beyond all that, what is ultimately so remarkable about The Thing is how refreshingly clear and to the point it is. It is neither profound nor shallow -- neither pretentious nor mindless. There are no extraneous subplots, no distractions. You get what you sign up for -- a sci-fi horror/mystery of the highest order. Slow-burning, visually stunning, and atmospheric -- yet also fantastically gory and bad-ass. The performances are perfectly adequate from the whole cast, if not at times particularly impressive. The tension in some of the scenes is incredible. It walks a fine line between "serious" and campy horror to perfection -- enough so that the film always remains intense and frightening, yet it never loses its B-movie charm.

To put it simply, I would rank The Thing easily amongst the finest films I have ever seen.

AMERICAN DREAM (1990, Barbara Kopple)

Remaining in obscurity, this is another Union strike documentary from director Barbara Kopple, the brilliant filmmaker who brought us the landmark masterpiece documentary Harlan County USA, this time chronicling a strike of meat-packers in Austin, Minnesota -- around the time where Reagan put the clamp down on Unions, with his decision to fire the striking air-traffic controllers. Is it as great as Harlan County USA? No. Is it worth seeing? Most definitely, especially for those who were fans of the previously mentioned film, for while it is not on the same level, American Dream is a very fine film in its own right, bringing some more interesting things to the table.

It starts a little slow, and I am not sure how relevant the film remains today, but it slowly becomes more and more absorbing. If Kopple's previous film, 14 years earlier, was a profound documentation of the power of the working class and the success of the Unions and people working together -- then American Dream is a documentary about the FAILURE of the Unions. This is a rather bleak film, augmented by the shots of the snow-covered, frozen land of Minnesota winter, giving the film at times a very cold mood. I would say that this film, although obviously taking sides with the strikers, is fairly even-handed. More importantly, however, it shows the major divisions in the Unions in how to achieve their goals and how to avoid the worst outcome, which is everyone losing their jobs and in essence being crushed by the companies.

As in Harlan County USA, the film is at its best when dealing with individual dramas and human moments between the people. While Kopple does offer some occassional narration and an added musical score, her presence is often un-seen, allowing the people to tell the story, with the drama ultimately being created by the film's editing. We essentially see how the people of the Union, from the top down, are basically torn apart as their cause becomes more and more hopeless. How people of the community have to pick between crossing the picket line and reviving their job, or keeping their promises and integrity to the Union and to the community. We see people in heated arguments, we see people in brawls, best friends against best friends, brothers against brothers. There are some fantastic moments of drama. Like in Harlan County USA where we feel the overwhelming feeling of a people united, standing up against the powers that be, here we see it all crumbling and falling down. For this alone it, it makes American Dream very much so worth seeing, as it is works as a very interesting continuation of Kopple's previous film, only 14 years later, and this time the vision of the American worker and the community it creates is only ever more bleak.

8/10

SOUTH PARK: Bringing Sanity to an Insane World (TV essay)

Emerging on to Television in 1997, the controversial and iconic adult cartoon, South Park, quickly shook up the airwaves. Created and heavily voiced by Matt Stone and Trey Parker, the show employs rather (appropriately) crude animation in creating the fictional town of South Park, Colorado, with the main characters being four foul-mouthed fourth graders, among several other hilarious and often outrageous side characters. Unfairly dismissed by some, and simply revolting to others, the show has a bad rap for its being potty-mouth, gross-out humor. While that is certainly a big part of the show -- especially in its earlier episodes -- what people often miss is the piercing social and political satire layered beneath the immense vulgarity. A show that never holds anything back, South Park is easily amongst the most daring, provocative, and flat-out hilarious work seen on television, with much more purpose and intelligence than it is often given credit for. Through examination of the show’s creation, characters and episodes, one sees just how South Park boldly tries to bring sanity to an insane world.

Indeed, what makes South Park so brilliant is its always fresh and sharp reflections and criticisms on not only American pop culture, but also the country’s social and political climate. What sets it apart from most shows, however, is its incredible ability to always remain timely -- strikingly timely, in fact. According to the show’s trivia section from the website, Internet Movie Database, the show has the amazing ability, during the days between the weekly episodes of a season, to write and create new episodes in days and even hours before they are aired, compared to most cartoons that take months to be created (South par. 26).The incredible timeliness of their episodes allows their satire to cut deeper, as they catch the audience right in the moment. Most notable were such episodes like, "Two Days Before the Day After Tomorrow", which was about Hurricane Katrina, and "Osama bin Laden has Farty Pants", which was about 9/11, making South Park the first show to use the obviously touchy subject of 9/11 as its topic (South, par. 26). These extremely timely episodes, which directly -- and rather outrageously -- address recent American tragedies no less, are not merely attempts at cheap shock humor, like some critics might suggest; nor is Stone and Parker always trying to be preachy and ram messages down the audience’s throat. It is simply a show which, refreshingly, is not afraid of sharing its opinion about the world’s often abundant chaos, aburdity, and plain illogical and irrational stupidity -- and South Park merely achieves this in a highly entertaining and hilarious fashion.

Consequently, although Stone and Parker are libertarians, which often comes through within the show, South Park often makes an effort of staying in the center of issues, not in a timid attempt of avoiding to take sides, but rather with the distinct purpose to mock the absurdities of the extremes. As Stone put it in an interview on the The Charlie Rose Show, “[We believe] that the people screaming on this side [of an issue] and the people screaming on that side [of an issue] are the same people, and it’s OK to be someone in the middle, laughing at both of them” (Valleau 297). South Park’s target is more often than not political and social extremism. The two protagonists, best friends Stan and Kyle, are two level-headed and intelligent 4th graders who are often far more rational then the outrageous and insane behavior of their parents and other adult characters (Valleau 296). The show often follows the formula of having the two protagonists get lost in a chaotic and silly situation which satirizes something in current American life, and ending eventually with Stan and Kyle, acting as literal mouth-pieces for the ideas of writers Stone and Parker, who almost tongue in cheekly deliver the episode’s main moral. The endings of episodes often as serve as a final moment of respite and a kind-hearted lesson after enduring the previous 20 minutes of vulgarity, crudeness and chaos. It is the several side characters, like Stan’s idiotic father, Randy, and their annoying, racist, right-wing “friend”, Eric Cartman, who are normally the butt of the jokes and the subject of criticism in their actions and beliefs. 

And Cartman, in particular, is one of the shows most notorious, hilarious, and fascinating characters. Beyond being just a smart-alleck, foul-mouthed, and overweight fourth grader, he is often characterized as a heavily racist, anti-semetic, hippie-hating, right-wing nut-job who, despite being technically a supporting character, often takes the central role in several of the episodes. He is usually the main antagonist, working as a conniving, greedy, and loathsome character set up to portray the insane values that Stone and Parker are poking fun at. He is intentionally portrayed as an embarrassing, stupid, and even evil person  -- some episodes even featured him imitating Hitler -- in order to easily ridicule the values that he holds. But in order to understand not only Cartman but also the show’s satirical techniques even better, let’s take an even closer look at some of the show’s best episodes.

For example, in the episode “Mystery of the Urinal Deuce”, the subject is 9/11 conspiracy theories, which were beginning to really run rampant at the time and still do today. The episode begins with Cartman giving a presentation to his class that claims Kyle -- who is a Jew, and there people who think Jews/Israel/Mossad were behind 9/11 -- was responsbile for 9/11. Stan and Kyle, in an attempt to discredit this bogus and ridiculous claim, end up stumbling across other conspiracy theories of 9/11 until they comically get caught in a ‘real’ one, featuring the United States government and George Bush being behind it. Ultimately, as the two boys discover more and more to the mystery, the show highlights, among other things: first, how  incompetent and incapable the government really is, which makes the notion of pulling off 9/11 ridiculous; and secondly, how silly such conspiracy theories are in the first place. Stone and Parker, the libertarians that they are, are amused by the fear and paranoia people have of their government, and thus argue that certain members of the population will just convince themselves to believe that the government is actually that powerful, and consequently that fear then just creates more power for the government which really does not actually exist. At the end, Kyle, still confused, asks who was responsible for 9/11. With Stan replying, “What do you mean? A bunch of pissed-off Muslims” (Urinal).

Additionally, among their finest work is the two part episode, “Go God Go Parts 1 and 2,” from Season 10. Notorious for being a show that has mocked nearly all forms of organized religion, South Park now turned the tables and took aim at extremist atheists. Essentially, in the two part episode, among multiple other subplots, Cartman ends up freezing himself and ends up being thawed 500 years in the future, where the whole world has turned atheist, with religion extinct. In this world, people worship science instead of God. Humorously, these future beings say things like “Praise Science,” or “Science, damn you!” Additionally, there idol, in replacement of Jesus, is the famous athiest writer and intellectual Richard Dawkins. What is most striking about this episode, however, is that it shows the future beings still fighting senseless wars, even in a time where religion is extinct and “science” has now reigns supreme. Many athiests argue that the world’s biggest problems and wars are mostly attributed to organized religion, but Stone and Parker argue that, regardless of  organized religion, people would still be finding things to foolishly worship and they would still be finding reasons to fight senseless wars. Essentially, it is not organizes religion that is necessarily the problem -- it is people! People are inherently irrational and violent. Regardless if they subscribe to the doctrine of supernatural Gods or the ideas of science, people remain to be reckless, violent, insane, and power-hungry. A cynical view, no doubt, but a rather brilliantly astute observation (Go).

And yet sometimes South Park delivers contradictory messages as well, especially concerning issues which are naturally complex. A most notable example is the hilarious episode, “The Snuke,” from season 11. In a parody of the television show 24, the episode begins with Cartman being extremely unreasonably suspicious of a new Muslim boy who just moved into the  town and joined their class. Based on his bigoted beliefs, he of course suspects him of being a terrorist. In coordination with Kyle, who Cartman tricks into believing something serious is going on, they both keep investigating the new Muslim kid at school, but they end up stumbling across a whole separate terrorist plot, planned by Russian mercenaries, to assassinate Hillary Clinton -- a plot which has absolutely nothing to do with the Muslim kid at school. Throughout the episode, Cartman imitates Jack Baurer from 24, and South Park here takes aim at mocking the silly, sensationalist television shows which make a spectacle out of the “War on Terror.” In the end, the real terrorist plot is foiled and Hillary Clinton and South Park is saved, and Kyle discovers that Cartman’s bigoted belief that the new Muslim kid was a terrorist was completely wrong. However, Cartman then points out how his initial bigotry and suspicion of the Muslim kid is what ultimately uncovered the separate terrorist plot. So, what exactly is Stone and Parker trying to express here? Do they side with Kyle’s view, which is that bigots like Cartman are wrong for focusing unwarranted suspicion on Muslims? Or do they think that profiling is a useful way of discovering terrorist plots and protecting people? Perhaps they are somewhere in the middle. Or perhaps they just wanted to make a hilarious episode, regardless of any clear message. Either way, they succeeded (Snuke). 

Furthermore, although definitely not a show for everyone, South Park remains one of the more refreshing, confrontational, and even thought-provoking shows on television, with its outrageous and sharp social and political satire which attempts to mock the absurdities of American and global society. Regardless if one always agrees with South Park is trying to say, just be happy to have found a show which has substance beneath its crude surface.

Top Ten Favorite FOREIGN-LANGUAGE films.

Being American myself, admittedly most of my favorite films are made from the US. Now, of course, not that Hollywood hasn't created countless great films, but, as limited as my film knowledge may be, I'd like to use this post to put forth 10 of my favorite foreign films, each which I would highly recommend. So, I'll start with one of the biggest world cinema classics with.....


10. BICYCLE THIEVES (1948, Vittorio De Sica) 

Despite its understandably depressing reputation, this neo-realism classic plays for a good portion of the film as a rather enjoyable, albeit at times painfully realistic, story of a father and son on an increasingly desperate search for the father's stolen bike which is required for the father to work and provide for his family. For what is the whole way a very well-made and realistic examination of poverty in post-war Rome, it ultimately earns its no-doubt-about-it classic status in the final moments of the film, which offers truly one of the most profound endings found in cinema. Understated yet deeply penetrating.

9. THRONE OF BLOOD (1957, Akira Kurosawa)

Akira Kurosawa is a titan among world filmmakers, but me and his films haven't always gelled. However, Throne of Blood is one that I really love and comfortably sits as my favorite film from him. Although not as acclaimed as the director's other samurai classics like Seven Samurai and Yojimbo, this ultra-dark and even spooky adaptation Macbeth is really effective in its visual story-telling. Gloriously over-the-top in its lead performance and visuals, the film excels in using its setting and dark black and white cinematography in creating a sinister mood and atmosphere that really draws me in. Additionally, compared to some of Kurosawa's other films, this one is rather refreshingly tightly woven. Toshiro Mifune is as menacing as ever -- over the top, maybe, but he is in no way hammy. Its a performance which fits entirely with the style of the film. And, as expected, the film ends in deliciously spectacular fashion.

8. THE ASCENT (1977, Larisa Shepitko) 

Not for the faint of heart, this Soviet World War Two film is one of the most out-right depressing films I have ever seen, endlessly bleak from beginning to end. When two Soviet partisans have to leave their unit and descend into the woods to find food and supplies, they begin what ultimately becomes a soul draining experience into war-time hell. Shepitko's direction captures the brutal, desolate nature of fighting in the winter in the Russian country-side, literally plunging the audience into the raw snow, and eventually deep into the human soul. When the credits roll, one is intensely disturbed, and I am not even sure if I would be able to soldier through the film ever again. But it is worth it for the experience.

7. WHEN A WOMAN ASCENDS THE STAIRS (1960, Mikio Naruse)

Unfortunately, this is the only Mikio Naruse film which is currently available for me, which is a real shame, for it is a truly great and I'd love to dive into more of his films. Hideko Takamine gives one of my favorite female performances of all time, playing a run-down, middle-aged Geisha who is trying to escape the business by opening up her own bar, all while trying not to sacrifice her integrity. Naruse takes us inside the lives of these characters, and it's one of these films where the characters truly open themselves up for the audience to see. When a Woman Ascends the Stairs is like the ultimate woman's picture, yet it is accessible to all, as it truly is a film about the strength and determination of the human spirit through the problems we face in life. It is at times very moving, and Naruse's slick directing style gives it a very watchable and modern feel. Tatsuya Nakadai also gives a great supporting performance.

6. UGETSU (1953, Kenji Mizoguchi) 

Yet another depressing entry to the list, this acclaimed film from the classic Japanese director Kenji Mizoguchi is about two peasant families struggling to survive during civil war torn Japan. Driven by ambition and eventually greed, the two men of the families see the economic opportunity of the way  take the risk of leaving their women (and children) behind in order fulfill their dreams of becoming wealthy or moving up in the social structure. Ignore the supernatural aspect of the film, for this is a relatively down to earth film about how we can lose track of the ones we love, which is truly the most important thing in life. The characters and story make it an instantly involving experience, and despite using an extensive amount of artificial sets, Mizoguchi's masterful composition and camera-movevement make it quite a rich cinematic experience. This is a film which got me interested more interested in trying more foreign films.

5.  Z (1969, Costa-Gavras) 

From the peculiar title, to the opening credits, and to the very end of the film, Z is essentially an ultimate, one of a kind political thriller. Detailing a fictionalized account that is supposed to mirror the over-throw of the democratic government in Greece, the film features an outstanding ensemble, with an energy that is at times bursting with electricity -- wildly unpredictable and unashamedly anti-authority. This is filmmaking with a passion and spirit and skill that I can truly admire. The direction is perfect, featuring amazing editing and music. And the film has one of the most brilliantly shocking endings I have ever seen.

4. AU REVOIR LES ENFANTS (1987, Louis Malle)

This is an extremely enjoyable, well-made and touching coming of age story about a friendship made between two young boys in a French Boarding during the Nazi occupation during World War 2. From what is apparently a very autobiographical film from French director Louis Malle, this is quite easily the most accessible film on the list and would be recommended to all. Filled with several authentic little details makes this a very rich, realistic, and personal film, with two outstanding performances from the two young leads, and an ending which brought me to tears.

3.  THE BATTLE OF ALGIERS (1966, Gillo Pontecorvo)

It's the combination of its remarkably even-handedness (although not at all without bias), its timelessness, and its unsurpassed realism which sets it apart from most films ever made. Although it could be considered a war film, the film also would make an incredible double-billing with the previously mentioned political thriller, Z. Simply put, The Battle of Algiers is one of the best films I have ever seen. It takes on the real life Arab uprising against the colonial French in Algiers, and turns it into one of the most fantastically awesome and entertaining war films ever made. At times having the look and feel of a real documentary, the film is still extremely relevant to this very day, and it demands to be applauded for its brutal and honest of the conflict, showing how both sides use terrorism to achieve their goals. Ennio Morricone's musical score is one of his very best, and along with Pontecorvo's fantastic direction, we have a film which doesn't feel a day old and is bursting with energy. Art and entertainment blended together seamlessly.

2. SAMURAI REBELLION (1967, Masaki Kobayashi)

When discussed among the major classic Japanese directors, Masaki Kobayashi seems to get somewhat overlooked compared the Kurosawa's and Ozu's -- and undeservedly so! After bursting on to the scene with the epic Human Condition trilogy, and then making other major works like Harakiri and Kwaidan, Kobayashi's last big film was perhaps Samurai Rebellion. A director who often worked with strong anti-authoritarian themes, Samurai Rebellion, like the previously mentioned Harakiri, is note-worthy for its critical examination and scrutiny of the samurai code and social system. This is NOT a samurai film for those who are looking to see Toshiro Mifune and Tatsuya Nakadai duke it out for 2 hours in constant swordplay. It works mostly as a superbly written, gripping, and intricate drama about betrayal, abandonment, and injustice -- all deliberately paced and extremely subdued and restrained. Kobayashi's incredible work with the camera delivers a uniquely exquisite cinematic intensity. Mifune gives perhaps his greatest performance as an old, retiring samurai who has grown disillusioned with the injustice in the samurai system and is just yearning to burst out. 


1. COME AND SEE (1985, Elem Klimov)

Every once in a great while a film comes around that delivers an earth-shattering experience -- one which reminds me the true unparalleled power of cinema. And experience is the key word here. It is what I always strive to find in films. Come and See is one of these earth-shattering experiences that I speak of. Drawing comparisons to it is rather difficult, for this Soviet war film is unlike anything you have probably ever seen. It is the equivalent of getting shell-shocked the fuck out of your mind. I'm not referring to a "mind-fuck" in the likes of more cerebral cinema. Come and See isn't something to think about -- it's something that is to be witnessed and felt and experienced  in every minute on screen. Perhaps appropriately so, for a war film it actually, in fact, works more along the lines of a horror film -- showing essentially how utterly horrifying war actually is. Elem Klimov, the husband of the previously mentioned Larisa Shepitko, features absolutely stunning direction. Featuring spectacular steady-camera tracking shots, incredible use of environment, and amazing sound-design, the film achieves tremendous realism and surrealism at the same time, creating a nightmare feel throughout the film which feels frighteningly real. To call Come and See a masterpiece would be an immense understatement. It is something which should be witnessed by all fans of cinema, particularly those fans of the war genre. Here is a link to my full review, posted on Left Field Cinema website: http://leftfieldcinema.com/come-and-see-review

The Blair Witch Project (1999) -- first review

Think of a time where you are sitting alone in the late hours of the night, preferably in an old house. You sit there quietly in the silent darkness before you start to hear unexplained creeks around the house, rustling of the tress in the wind outside, and all of a sudden, without any reason whatsoever, the tension inside you starts to build up, your mind at times causing your imagination to run wild. There is indeed a distinct level of creepiness that can occur being isolated in the quiet hours of night, and this is even amplified when outside, something which the characters of the ground-breaking horror film “The Blair Witch Project” have to face. And you face this creepiness, among other forms of terror, with them as you experience the film. 

While not the first horror film to utilize fictional “found footage” -- the immensely violent exploitation film “Cannibal Holocaust” being one of the very first -- “The Blair Witch Project,” an extremely low-budget horror film from 1999, was the first mainstream horror film to use this technique. Despite being quite the polarizing film which has received quite a harsh backlash, it was a true phenomenon when first released, and it has succeeded in making itself ingrained in recent American pop-culture. With a sequel and multiple other pseudo-documentary/”found footage” films like it, such as J.J. Abrams blockbuster mega-monster film “Cloverfield,” its influence is clearly felt. However, some argue that its influence is not a good one, for the gimmick of hand-held, shaky “found footage” type films is not appealing filmmaking -- and perhaps in the wrong hands it isn’t. However, when examined as its own film, “The Blair Witch Project” is in fact a remarkably effective and well-made horror film, championing the limitations of small budget and the ability to work with restraint. With what on the outside I thought looked to be gimmicky garbage is actually, in fact, genuinely great filmmaking.

We begin the film learning about these three young amateur filmmakers who supposedly are still missing, and the only evidence of what possibly could have happened to them is seen on these tapes found in the woods -- hence, “found footage.” These tapes document a paranormal investigation led by these three young people of a supposed urban legend, located in the deep woods of rural Maryland. The three characters, lead by the director, Heather, and her two friends and assistants, Josh and Mike, take to this project as a light-hearted camping trip in the woods. But once they start to get lost and have the paranoid feeling of being stalked, their journey turns into something terrifying. The opening 10 to 15 minutes of the film is straight exposition, but it is necessary in establishing plot, back-story, characters, and, in general, the feeling of this being a low-budget amateur documentary. Yes, it isn’t extremely interesting stuff, but it is handled quite economically, if anything. Some of the back-story about the urban legend, in particular, is important in understanding some of the elements later on in the film.

Much has been made about the controversy of how people were literally duped into believing that these tapes were real footage, partially because the filmmakers apparently advertised it as being “real.” It’s also fairly understandable (although obviously unlikely under a critical light) to have possibly believed this because the production, despite the minuscule budget, is quite remarkable in how believable and convincing it is. Sure, the characters can be a bit obnoxious and heavy-handed at times, but the performances are very good. However, the main reason that the film works is that it takes a bit of an unconventional and refreshing approach in its attempt to scare its audience. “The Blair Witch Project” doesn’t merely work on just realism to achieve its horror -- it is, in fact, most impressive in how it utilizes its setting to ultimate effect to create a subtly overbearing atmosphere that just continues to creep into the film.

Part of the setting’s effectiveness is that I deeply identify with the actual setting. Living in the United States and on the Pennsylvania/Maryland boundary line, I am extremely familiar with the type of woods the characters traverse. In fact, anyone who has lived in rural, forrest areas or who perhaps has experienced camping in the woods can probably relate. Additionally, I love films set in the wilderness, especially ones which heavily emphasize their environment in order to tell the story. This film is a perfect example. The cold and desolate nature of the forests help supplement the feeling of dread within the film. People have criticized this film as boring and that nothing happens. Ironically, a lot of the intrigue I find in the film is when supposedly nothing (visually) is happening. Visually, the film at times reaches the level of being entrancing. The endless shots staring into the woods -- staring into the darkness. What is heard, but what isn’t seen. The silences. Yes, according to traditional narrative standards, barring a few encounters and events along the way, little to nothing (on the surface) actually happens. It’s a film which works in tremendous restraint in showing very little, and instead allowing the audiences’ own imagination to do the scaring. It's not horror that works on gore or masked murderers. It doesn't even work on being afraid of ghosts or monsters or the supernatural. It's the tremendous feeling of isolation and vulnerability in the cold, desolate forest. The feeling of being alone and lost and stalked. 

Consequently, because of the pseudo-documentary technique of telling the story (which some dismiss as being merely a gimmick), the film actually invites us to become more involved in the setting and immersed in the characters’ immense frustration, panic, and terror in being lost, starving, and hunted. Not only is this despair felt psychologically within the conflict between the characters, but we also can share the characters’ experiences just as they are. The film works on an interesting dynamic of putting the viewer as a central observer of the action, due to the filmmaking technique being used. Whenever the camera stares off into the distance, we stare with it. Whenever the characters become silent in order to listen, we listen with them. A brilliant sequence deep into the film has the characters stumble across these bizarre stick figures hanging from trees. On its own the images are quite eerie in the way they are photographed, but what makes the scene most disturbing is the characters’ reaction to these stick figures. There isn’t anything too inherently scary or disturbing about this scene if witnessed on its own. However, at this point of the film, the characters’ and audience has already witnessed some creepy occurrences, and as an audience member you can connect with the feeling that the characters have of being lost and completely disoriented. So, furthermore, when the already growing insane characters‘ freak out over these relatively harmless stick figures, this allows the opportunity for the audience to become freaked out. After-all, sometimes there is nothing more unsettling then seeing other people freaked out. Here, the characters and audience feed off each other and experience things together. This is the ultimate goal of filmmaking, and it is achieved here so simply but at the same time so brilliantly. The scares are not created artificially, but come with context, and they are slowly built up through the setting, the atmosphere it creates, and the tension and emotions of the characters. The end result is at times intensely disturbing, exhausting, and mostly quite convincing.

So convincing, in fact, that some of the film was actually, in some ways, technically real. By “real”, I mean that some of the emotions and reactions of the actors were not fake but indeed genuine. Much of the film was improvised, and, in addition to the filmmakers literally giving the actors less food to eat each day (thus having them experience the feeling of going hungry), some of the sequences of the film, including one of the most terrifying, were actually staged by the directors, unknowingly to the actors, in order to draw out real frightened reactions and emotions from the actors. Additionally, in order to add to the realism in the film, the directors wisely chose to have the film remain ambiguous as to what is actually happening to the characters. This is a sign of good horror, for it retains intrigue all the way throughout. Like how in much of “The Exorcist” the story allows for as much rational explanation for the possession as possible, or in “The Shining” where we do not know exactly if the hotel is haunted or if it is just the family going insane -- these are horror films which deal with the supernatural, but do so in a relatively ambiguous way, helping people who are skeptical of ghosts, monsters, and demons find other things to be interested and afraid of within the story.  

I still personally remain very inexperienced within the horror genre, having seen mostly only a handful of the big classics and a few more recent gems like this film and “The Descent.” However, despite being very skeptical of this film at first, I must applaud the achievement filmmakers Eduardo Sanchez and Daniel Myrick, not to mention performers Heather Donahue, Joshua Leonard, and Michael C. Williams for what was ultimately achieved here. As divisive as it may be, I reckon this to be a modern horror classic and genuinely great filmmaking. I wouldn’t call it a perfect film by any means, but its tremendous skill under low-budget, with great use of restraint, and expert use of setting, environment and character-audience interaction is something that I strongly admire and found very effective. 

Opening post

Welcome all to any whoever manage to read any of this junk I post on here. I hope to occasionally post reviews on this blog, and any comments left by those who would possibly read would be greatly appreciated. Doubt I will ever post too much or make anything out of this, but who knows.