Thursday, April 24, 2014

The Comedian and the Audience

“You can’t worry about what others think of you,” says every authority figure to our children. “Don’t worry about what others think!” It’s one of the most common pieces of wisdom always blindly espoused by others. There is of course an admirable ideal in what people intend in this wisdom: don’t be a slave to what others want you to be. But, in truth, what are we beyond the perceptions of others in reaction to our selves? What merit is our self-perception in the definition of our self? 

Take, for instance, a man whose project in life is to tell jokes and make people laugh and happy. The world he strives to create is a world of laughter and happiness. Unfortunately, one day he tells a joke with this project in mind, but the receiver of the joke finds the joke unfunny and offensive, to the point where the receiver of the joke is upset. This man then, at least momentarily, took part in creating a world of unhappiness. Perhaps this incident is rare, and the man goes on through life by pursuing his project by telling the same jokes and all is well. However, what happens if the same jokes continue to upset others in similar ways? The man is then an actor of unhappiness in the world, creating a world that is tragically opposed to his original project of laughter and happiness. The man is left with the choice of either continuing to make people unhappy, or to change his jokes. 

The point is that the intentions of the man in question are irrelevant, for the concrete measurements of his jokes and actions in the world are a force of unhappiness to others. Consequently, this man is, at least partially, defined as a man who brings unhappiness, not laughter, to others. Facing this he still can change his jokes to alter his projections into the world. Life is but adjustments. We adjust so our intentions match their concrete impact in the world, which can only be defined by others. Furthermore, it is the continuous struggle to have our self-perception match other’s perception of our self, for only then can we guide our actions to create the concrete impact that our intentions seek to fulfill. Man starts with an intention, a project that is enacted through an action, and a meaning that is ultimately given by others, the witness. 

Despite all this, is it really so simple? Is there no accountability of the witness to our actions? Is witnessing, the decoding of others’ actions, not an action itself? This is something more fluid and transactional. There must be a responsibility on the witness to properly apply the correct meaning to actions, for our reactions also determine a world just the same. This complexity is best illustrated in cases of oppression. The French interpreted the terrorism of the Algerians as acts of murder and chaos, without understanding the intentions of liberation in their actions. The failure of the French to do so left the French oblivious to the concrete oppression of the Algerian situation that in fact was propagating the terrorism. The oppressor is often the unreliable witness to the acts of the oppressed, for the oppressed’s acts often carries an intention and meaning prescribed by the oppressed that rebels against the oppressor. The oppressor remains oblivious to his oppression of the oppressed, because he sees the oppressed as inferior, and how can one oppress one that is unequal? Consequently, the oppressor remains oblivious to his own situation in the world. Therefore the witness must also strive to understand the intentions of the actor, so as to understand the situation that ultimately causes the actor’s actions and also the situation that is the witness’ own. 



But the Algerians still must ask themselves – were our intentions of liberation obscured in the acts of terror? Like the man whose project is to make people laugh and happy, perhaps we should change our jokes, change our methods and actions to fulfill our project. The ultimate question, which there is no objective answer, is what action can best bring about the world we wish to construct? Instead of violence, MLK lead by civil disobedience in the civil rights movement -- the white oppressors faced with peaceful actors who didn’t enact their intentions of liberation with violence. The white population viewed the images of docile, peaceful black people being beaten and brutalized as they harmlessly assembled – attacked with dogs, beaten with sticks, and sprayed with fire hoses. Those images revealed the concrete violence of the oppressors toward an oppressed. It was then clear to many white people -- the oppressing witness -- that the civil rights movement was not a cause defined by violence and brutality but one that was victim of it by whites, and thus the white witness finally realized the black cause of bringing recognition to blacks’ situation of oppression. 

It is ultimately alarming how ambiguous our actions truly are – meaningless without the witness. Like being itself, the action’s existence precedes its essence. Intentions of the actor merely creates its existence, but the witness gives the action -- and thereby the actor – his essence. So often our actions betray the notion of our self to others, but what actually is our true self? 

We live in a world of negotiated meaning of our selves and others. We must be both conscious of how others perceive us, and how we perceive others. A person’s actions are measured and defined by the witness, just like a comedian’s jokes are measured and defined by the audience. The actor must be conscious and critical, always looking to adjust his actions to best represent his project. The witness, likewise, must remain conscious and critical of his reactions so as to best understand the concrete situation that provides the actor the need for his project; ignoring such is ignoring the world that the witness too is situated in. We exist as beings bound to one another, our freedom tied to the freedom of others. The burden of responsibility to create meaning in the world lies with comedian and audience, actor and witness. 

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

JAWS: A Viewing Between a Father and Son


The days and nights following the reveal of my dad’s cancer diagnosis were mostly marked by a state of nightmarish disbelief and a shadow of sadness cast down upon my family. It was in those days and nights where I had to confront the world; where I had to examine and evaluate what was truly at stake; where I had to think through my situation, or else fall into despair. But no, I refused to fall into despair, for I saw nothing more pointless and revolting than the idleness that despair entails. Rejecting despair became my greatest responsibility for myself and for my family. Therefore, it wasn’t that everything in my life necessarily changed, but rather certain things finally became clearer.

One night that stood out was when my father and I watched Jaws together after my sister and mother went to bed. This was a film we had always shared, but on that evening it brought us together deeper than ever. The film itself of course features a protagonist, a father of two sons who is thrust against the will of a seemingly unstoppable force of nature -- thrust in defense of his family and his town. It is not just a shark. He must overcome fears, and become more than a sheriff in this situation. He must innovate and overcome, despite the odds, as he does in the film's climactic moments.



My father and I had seen the film countless times. We nearly knew it by heart. He reminisced with me about first seeing it during his high school years in the drive-in in 1975; a great year for movies, he said (and it was). He still remembered the invigorating pain of his girlfriend’s nails digging into his arm during the film’s scariest moments. Meanwhile, I discussed the beauty of certain shots in the movie, the slight yet effective meaning and visual storytelling conveyed in the simplest and seemingly most insignificant of scenes. Usually he would block out such analysis on my part, and I would typically block out such nostalgic musings from him. But on that night the movie took a backseat. On that night it was about us, and we listened.

 
He started discussing many things and many deeper things. As we were alone, he shared wisdom and he shared secrets. Secrets, not terribly dramatic but yet deeply significant, bringing tears to his eyes as he unveiled pieces of his being from within. An urgency flowed through him. He spoke as a man aware of his looming mortality. It haunted his words and his voice.

 
I will not share the secrets, because the secrets are not mine to tell. However, he did reveal something significant about our relationship that I never recognized before. He told me that in all our conversations he always tried to play devil’s advocate by taking the opposing position of whatever I supported. He explained that it was his way of making me more critical about my beliefs. I always naively reduced this behavior as some sort of almost spiteful contrarianism in the form of some father/son family banter. But upon revealing his true intentions I realized it was one of the most profound forms of nurturing a son could receive.




Truthfully, I have always felt a little at odds at how I view the world in relation to others. Especially in my younger days, I was dissatisfied with mainstream political positions, skeptical of religion, and skeptical of much of the world. I always perceived this skepticism, my “unique” way of thinking, to be my own. I would concede that I was influenced by certain thinkers and even institutions in what I believed; but the source of my vision of the world -- the how and why of my thinking and beliefs -- remained a mystery to me. A prideful part of myself considered this to be something innate in my being. But on that night I realized that the source of my thinking comes from my father’s best effort to will into me a skeptical and compassionate view of the world. I reflected quietly on this discovery as the film continued, a newfound sense of humility and gratitude within me.


And when the film finished, and when the shark and the unstoppable force of nature was gloriously eradicated, we both admired together what is a truly great film.


That night, during my shower before bed, I had a culminating realization within myself. No matter what happens with my father, he will live on within me. My father is, above all, the biggest influence in the shaping of myself, beyond school or university or friends or country or art or other admirable persons. My father will always be eternal through me. As I extend into the world, so does he.


He lives within me, as he does within "Jaws".

Sunday, February 16, 2014

THE REPUBLIC OF TURKEY: The West's Bridge to the Islamic World?


by Andrew Patterson



As a developing country, Turkey has a fairly unique political history, especially for a country in the Middle East. Most Islamic countries in the Middle East are known for being heavily fundamentalist, theocratic, traditionalist and anti-West. However, the modern Republic of Turkey is a stark contrast to many of its neighbors. Previously ruled for over 600 years by the Ottoman Empire, the Turkey the world recognizes today began in 1923 when political leader Mustafa Kemal, later known as Ataturk, abolished the Ottoman Empire and installed new forms of government. Since then the country has gone through a vast array of changes with steady success but with its fair share of problems (McNamara, 2009, para. 2-4). Ultimately, however, what stands out about modern Turkey is that it is remarkably secular and modernized. Additionally, Turkey’s modern day political system features an executive, legislative and judicial branch. It has a constitution and it is considered a republican parliamentary democracy. This is a similar structure to the United States’ government, though Turkey’s legal system takes more influence from Europe (CIA, 2013). This begs the question then – should Turkey serve as model for other developing Islamic countries in the Middle East? Is Turkey the bridge, if you will, that the West needs to reach the Islamic world? To help answer these questions, one should examine the Republic of Turkey’s use of forced secularization and modernization through autocratic rule, how it affected women, and how it ultimately enacted a slow, gradual transition to democracy.

Initially, once the Republic of Turkey was formed in 1923, Ataturk became an autocratic ruler of the country (Handleman, 2011, p. 109). Ataturk’s biggest political change from the previous Ottoman Empire was initiating an immediate separation of church and state (Handleman, 2011, p. 109). Ataturk removed the rule of the caliphate (Turkey’s supreme religious leader) and the Islamic courts (Cagaptay, 2007, p.7). In addition, Ataturk also went beyond mere secularization of government by also instituting forced secularization of Turkish society. For example, “the government westernized the alphabet, clothing and nation’s legal code” while also restricting religious political groups for running for office (Handleman, 2011, p. 109-110).  By 1928 Islam was not even declared as Turkey’s official state religion (Cagaptay, 2007, p.7).

              According to author Soner Cagaptay, Turkey’s secularism differs from the United States’ form of secularism, and it is more modeled after Europe (2007, p.8). Cagaptay described this, writing, “Unlike American secularism, which has historically provided ‘freedom of religion’ to and for people fleeing religious persecution, European (French and Turkish) secularism (laicite), born in reaction to the domination of the political sphere by one faith, has promoted ‘freedom from religion’” (2007, p.8). This form of secularism created a “firewall between religion and politics” (Cagaptay, 2007, p.8). Author Yesim Arat expanded further on this, writing: “The secularism of the Republican state [of Turkey] has traditionally meant not merely the separation of religion and state but also state control over religion. Imbued with the conviction that the state represents the best interests of the people despite the people, the Kemalist reformers have aimed to confine religion to the private realm” (1998, p. 123).

            This drastic and autocratic forced secularization of Turkey’s government and society is perhaps the biggest thing that makes Turkey unique among developing Muslim nations in the Middle East. Typically a major source of oppression for Muslims in the Middle East has originated from theocratic government policies, such as the theocratic monarchy in Saudi Arabia or the ruthless Taliban in Afghanistan. In Turkey, on the other hand, Muslims arguably received oppression from a secular, autocratic government. While “urban middle class” citizens tend to support this secularization and modernization, citizens from rural areas have often opposed it (Handleman, 2011, p. 110).

            This issue is made even more complex and intriguing when one examines women’s rights in Turkey since the secular reforms of Ataturk. On the one hand, one can make the case that women’s rights have greatly increased. For instance, women were given voting rights after not having them previously under the rule of the Ottoman Empire. Contrary to this, however, Ataturk’s secular reforms have also arguably oppressed women in other ways; most notably, by banning the wearing of headscarves in public. Because of this, any woman that wants to attend university or work for the government cannot wear headscarves. However, by removing their headscarves women would also be going against their religion (Handleman, 2011, p. 109-110). The result of this government policy continues to marginalize women in Turkey instead of empowering them. Furthermore, although the policy is secular in nature, it also ends up persecuting citizens because of their religion. Additionally, although these reforms were designed to empower women, the standards for how women should dress and act were still being created by men; most notably, the standard set by Ataturk and the state (White, 2003, p.145). Author Jenny White described this, writing, “The Republican state determined the characteristics of the ideal woman and set up a monopolistic  system to propagate this ideal in a population that held often quite different values and perceptions of ideal women’s behavior” (2003, p. 145). Again, here lies an inherent contradiction of the secular reforms. The state simultaneously works to empower women, but it is dictated on the state’s terms, so any misgivings from the female population are suppressed.

Ataturk

Despite this, the autocratic nature of these secular reforms perhaps had a similar effect as autocratic economic reforms in other developing nations (though the key in all of these autocratic reforms is that power always needs to be eventually given up).To explain, although some women’s rights were suppressed temporarily by these reforms – a short term cost in rebuilding the structure of a society -- in the long run women’s rights and opportunities increased because of them. In addition to voting and civil rights, women were open up to educational, economic and political opportunities and power (White, 2003, p. 150-151). Author Jenny White even went as far to praise Turkey’s reforms as breakthrough for women across the world, writing, “The state feminist model … despite its authoritarian rigidity about what constitutes a modern woman, was groundbreaking and successful in allowing Turkish women to participate in society at all levels to an extent that unheard of in Europe or the United States at the time” (2003, p. 158).

            Furthermore, over time Turkey has become increasingly democratic.  Despite his initial autocratic rule, a major part of Ataturk’s plan for Turkey involved democracy (Cagaptay, 2007, p. 8). The only caveat to this was that Ataturk demanded Turkey to achieve secularism prior to achieving democracy (Cagaptay, 2007, p. 9). Author Yasim Arat expanded on this, writing: “A solidarist collectivist ethic served as a tool for modernizing reforms when appeals to individualism could not be effective as a means to [secularization and democratization]. … Interests of the community and the nation would come before the interests of the individual” (1998, p. 118). However, starting in the 1950s the government began allowing participation of religious political groups into politics, although at first they received heavy opposition and even suppression from secular government forces (Handleman, 2011, p. 110). Because of this, progress for religious political groups was slow, but in 2002 the religious political group known as AK was victorious in the 2002 national election (Handleman, p.110).

            Perhaps in the long run forced secularization and westernization through autocratic rule was what Turkey needed. In a region where religion and government have been so intrinsically linked – and where civil rights and educational, technological and economic progress has been suppressed in the name of religion – perhaps forced secularization was the essential first step in advancing Turkey as a freer society. This returns to the notion of a painful short term cost, but with eventual rewards in the long run. The key for Turkey, however, has been its slow, gradual transition from autocratic rule to democracy. For example, there have been three military coups since the government has started to have open elections in the 1950s (Lewis, 1994, para. 20). In fact, the Turkish military is strictly dedicated to preserving the constitution and by extension the continuing secularization of Turkey (Cagaptay, 2007, p. 9). However, according to author Bernard Lewis, Turkey’s history of military interventions is unique, writing, “What is remarkable is not that these interventions took place--that is, after all, the norm in that region and political culture--but that after all three, the military withdrew to its barracks, and allowed, even facilitated, the resumption of the democratic process” (Lewis, 1994, para. 20). Again, this highlights a gradual, if not occasionally painful transition.  


Compare Turkey then to countries in the Arab Spring, who through revolution launched their countries from autocratic rule straight into democracy.  While the Arab democratic uprising was initially endorsed by many, there is now arguably some serious worry in the West over the stability and legitimacy of the democracies in some of the countries where revolution took place. In Egypt, for instance, the religious political group the Muslim Brotherhood has risen as the major party of power, but unlike the AK in Turkey there is not a secularist military to keep the Muslim Brotherhood in check. The question then is will there be continuing protection of religious and civil liberties in Egypt for minority groups and women?  Furthermore, countries in the Arab Spring might want democracy, but do they actually want full secularization, westernization and all that it has to offer (Bloomberg, 2012, para. 26)? Is democracy out of sudden revolution sustainable? Author Bernard Lewis further explained the success of Turkey’s gradual transition to democracy, writing:
“Specifically, the Turkish experiment in parliamentary democracy has been going on for a century and a quarter--much longer than in any other country in the Islamic world--and its present progress therefore rests on a far stronger, wider, and deeper base of experience. The vicissitudes of democracy under the late Ottomans, under Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, and under his successors would seem to confirm the belief that democracy is a strong medicine, which must be administered in small and only gradually increased doses. Too large and too sudden a dose can kill the patient” (1994, para. 27).


            With this in mind, it is perhaps impossible to fully secularize nations in the Middle East. For better or worse, Islam is tied very closely to government and politics.  Despite many Muslims wanting democracy and modernization, there is still an apparent desire to keep religion and politics linked. This is also illustrated in Turkey with the election of the religious AK party. Even in the United States, which is deemed secular and representative of Western culture, there has never been a President that has not been Christian. In fact, there was controversy over President John F. Kennedy being Catholic, with Republican 2012 presidential nominee Mitt Romney being Mormon, and then the ridiculous (and bigoted) rumors of President Barack Obama being Muslim. The point is that, whether from the Middle East or the West, people often wish to bring their religious values into politics, because it is – again, for better or worse – arguably what gives nations a considerable part of their identity.

Furthermore, arguably what has made the West and Turkey successful as democracies (despite their shortcomings) is their prioritizing of secularism and safe-guarding against theocratic upheavals. Turkey’s use of forced-secularization and modernization through autocratic rule has allowed for gradual transition to democracy. As evidenced by the formation of the religious political group the AK, religion may never be able to be taken entirely out of Turkish or Middle Eastern politics – just like it may never be taken directly out of the United States’ politics – but if there is enough safeguards of secularism intact (even if it suppresses the wishes of people), then society has a better chance to prosper, making Turkey a fine model for developing countries in the Middle East.








Works Cited
Arat, Yesim. (1998). Feminists, Islamists, and Political Change in Turkey. Political Psychology, Vol. 19, No. 1, p. 117-131.  Published by: International Society of Political Psychology. Article Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/3792117
Cagaptay, Soner. (2007). Secularism and Foreign Policy in Turkey: New Elections, Troubling Trends. The Washington Institute for Near East Policy. P. 1-32. Retrieved from: http://www.washingtoninstitute.org/uploads/Documents/pubs/PolicyFocus67.pdf
CIA World Factbook. Turkey: Government section. Last Updated: 29 March, 2013. Retrieved from: https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/tu.html
Gaouette, Nicole. (2012). ‘Arab Spring’ stirs U.S. Worries After Year of Turmoil. Bloomberg. Retrieved from:  http://www.bloomberg.com/news/2012-03-13/arab-spring-s-enthusiasm-gives-way-to-continuing-crisis-for-u-s-allies.html
Handleman, Howard. (2011). “Religion and Politics.” The Challenge of Third World Development. Pearson Prentice Hall. Special Edition for Penn State 2011. P. 109-110.
Lewis, Bernard. (1994). Why Turkey is the Only Muslim Democracy. Middle East Quarterly. P. 41-49. Retrieved from: http://www.meforum.org/216/why-turkey-is-the-only-muslim-democracy
McNamara, Melissa. (2009). History of Turkey. CBS News. Retrieved from: http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-18563_162-2213120.html
White, Jenny B. (2003). State Feminism, Modernization, and the Turkish Republican Woman. NWSA Journal , Vol. 15, No. 3, Gender and Modernism between the Wars, 1918-1939, p. 145-159. Published by: The Johns Hopkins University Press. Article Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/4317014

Monday, June 6, 2011

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

Monday, April 11, 2011

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 

Saturday, April 9, 2011

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

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

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