World of Tomorrow

Posted on January 25, 2016 by Tom

Release: March 31, 2015 (Vimeo)

[Netflix]

Written by: Don Hertzfeldt

Directed by: Don Hertzfeldt

In memory of my mother.

Profundity runs rampant in Don Hertzfeldt’s latest short film, World of Tomorrow. While a departure from his painstakingly hand-drawn catalog, the science behind the science fiction is remarkable in ways that only Hertzfeldt can be remarkable. That is to say, the decision to go digital doesn’t mean he’s abandoning what has made him a unique talent.

World of Tomorrow, as has been the case for many of his works, particularly his penultimate musing on life and death, It’s Such a Beautiful Day, is dense and complex, and quite possibly his most ambitious effort yet, transporting viewers to a screwy little world where technology has afforded humans the ability to preserve their memories in digital reincarnations of themselves in the pretty-distant future, but on the condition they have the financial wherewithal to do so. (Discount time travel seems as dodgy as it sounds.)

Hertzfeldt once again employs a simple narrative vehicle to move across a complex terrain filled with conceptual and visual grandeur. The story features a young girl named Emily who is shown this new digital environment via another version of herself projected some 200 years into the future. The “older” Emily explains the complexities of advanced human technology while the “younger” Emily (or Emily Prime) babbles on about the typical stuff a young child finds fascinating. The relationship almost feels parental.

World of Tomorrow is a gorgeously rendered short, one that incorporates many of Hertzfeldt’s signature designs: wobbly lines, eclectic color schemes, stick figure characters — each contributing to a greater, vastly complex whole. A number of heavy themes are touched upon such as reincarnation, socioeconomic status, the fragility of life and the inevitability and permanence of death — and it’s all captured within a 17-minute running time.

It’s a production that necessitates multiple viewings, if not for the sheer amount of heavy-hitting themes then for its ability to transport the viewer far away from the comfort of their living room and into an entirely new dimension.

Recommendation: Suitably melancholic yet strangely uplifting. World of Tomorrow finds Hertzfeldt once again sculpting a profoundly emotional story out of simple drawings and bizarre visuals. An absolute must-see for anyone who has enjoyed his previous work, and for those who find themselves intrigued by the idea of time travel and whether or not it’s worth the risk(s).

Rated: NR

Running Time: 17 mins.

All content originally published and the reproduction elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the blog owner is prohibited.

Photo credits: http://www.thefilmexperience.net; http://www.bettycam.tumblr.com

TBT: Out Cold (2001)

Posted on November 5, 2015 by Tom

As the leaves continue their mass exodus from their branches, I’m reminded that my favorite season is just around the corner. Why winter? A couple of reasons. First of all winter seasonals are some of my favorite beers. Second, winter usually means snow, and snow usually means it’s time to go and hit the slopes. And of course you can’t have ski trips without the aprês ski — very few things go better together than a long day of shredding and then hitting the bar at the bottom of the mountain at the end. Then there’s the other clichés of course: hot chocolate, the turn of the New Year and all that that entails. The list goes on. To mark the occasion I figured we’d take a look at a snowboarding film I remember fondly from high school. I distinctly remember wearing this disc out, well beyond playability I watched it so many times.

Today’s food for thought: Out Cold.

Getting awkwardly stuck in jacuzzis since: November 21, 2001

[DVD]

For those of a certain comedic persuasion, it doesn’t get much more nostalgic than when you think back on the first time you watched the Malloy brothers’ Out Cold, a low-budget, low-risk, bacchanalia-obsessed film about a group of snowboarders trying to save their rinky-dink ski town from being converted into a commercialized tourist trap.

While the film has all the hallmarks of a direct-to-DVD feature — which I’m fairly certain it was — it goes down like a swill of your favorite Rocky Mountain brew, its outrageous (and numerous) Zach Galifianakis-centered hijinks and small-town frolics producing that oh-so-warm-and-fuzzy feeling buddy comedies are so adept at. Trust me, if you haven’t ever seen the movie it’s not anything you can’t figure out using the above movie poster as a reference. Out Cold is about as silly as they come, but unlike other films of its ilk it has a surprising amount of staying power.

The uniformly memorable cast of characters goes a long way in cementing the film as one of the best in a bunch of very mediocre and unambitious slacker films; Jason London’s Rick Rambis heads up a crew of twentysomethings who have probably spent a little too much time at elevation, for all intents and purposes good kids who have allowed the combination of fresh mountain air and bong smoke dictate every major life decision they need to make — whether it’s properly honoring Bull Mountain resort founder Papa Muntz or figuring out how to tell your crush they’re the only one for you.

Aiding Rick in his inebriated misadventures are Anthony (Flex Alexander), Jenny (A.J. Cook), the endearingly brain-damaged Pig Pen (Derek Hamilton) and his only slightly-more-coherent brother Luke (Galifianakis in his break-out role), and the bar tender Lance (David Denman), who has severe self-esteem issues . . .

Of course there are a few stand-out supporting roles that add some flavor to this Raunch Sandwich: David Koechner plays town weirdo Stumpy, a guy more comfortable in shorts than in proper winter gear and with a penchant for going on rants (be careful what you wish for, Richard); Lee Majors shows up in a small but pivotal role as John Majors, the businessman who poses a threat to Bull Mountain’s stoner status quo; Swedish model Victoria Silvstedt blends nicely into the Alaskan scenery as Inga . . . and of course by ‘nicely’ I mean she sticks out so much it becomes comical. At nearly 6 feet tall and long, flowing blonde hair she is quite the woman. Too bad she’s only a weekend visitor, schtepdaughter to Mr. Majors. The resort, a family business, is now being run by Muntz’ bumbling son Teddy (Willie Garson). And then of course there’s Thomas Lennon being, well, Thomas Lennon.

It may seem odd to give this many people a nod in a movie this small, particularly when considering only a few of them — Galifianakis, Koechner, Hamilton and Denman — leave a lasting impression. Yet Out Cold lives and dies on the camaraderie of its cast; this is very much a festive occasion with more emphasis on penis jokes, practical jokes and even practical penis jokes than story. Sadly Out Cold can’t quite resist the urge to toss in a thoroughly sugar-coated romantic subplot involving Rick and his former gal, who just so happens to stop in at their watering hole one afternoon. Oh, and she also happens to be Majors’ daughter, Anna (Canadian beauty Caroline Dhavernas). What are the odds?

London and Dhavernas share about as much chemistry as Galifianakis shares with his polar bear friend in the early stages of the film. Unable to move on since being stood-up at the end of a week-long fling in Cancun, Rick finds himself pining after his long-lost love to the tune of some seriously overdone clichés that offer up the film’s lamest scenes. Apparently the romance is a tongue-in-cheek reference to Casablanca (though I’ll leave it up to you to determine how successfully that comes across for anyone who hasn’t seen this film). Barring this unnecessary frill, Out Cold does well by its decision to stick to the open slopes instead of heading into the trees where less-traveled narrative paths run the risk of potentially exhilarating or completely losing its audience.

Out Cold is as predictable as they come but the party atmosphere, conjured by a great cast, makes for a highly enjoyable and unexpectedly hilarious package.

Recommendation: One to watch in your early 20s, there’s no doubt about it. Make that late teens. There’s no nudity in this one folks, which is a little odd considering, once again, the party atmosphere. (For whatever reason these guys were aiming at the PG-13 rating. . . presumably to net a larger audience, but . . eh.) Definitely a great one for early, stand-out comedic touches from the likes of Galifianakis, Koechner and Denman.

Rated: PG-13

Running Time: 89 mins.

TBTrivia: Very loosely based on Casablanca. It can be seen when Rick has the flashback of him and Anna, when Rick says, “Of all of the bars in all the ski towns in Alaska why did she have to pick this one?” (much like “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world . . .”), when Anna has Luke (Sam in Casablanca) play their song and Rick walks in, and finally in one of the closing scenes when Anna gets on the plane and Rick says, “We’ll always have Pedro O’Horny’s,” which is a direct reference to Humphrey Bogart’s famous, “We’ll always have Paris.”

All content originally published and the reproduction elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the blog owner is prohibited.

Photo credits: http://www.martiperarnau.com; http://www.alchetron.com

Decades Blogathon – The Taking of Luke McVane (1915)

Posted on May 18, 2015 by Tom

Here we go! Welcome to the second entry in the Decades Blogathon, being hosted by myself and Mark from Three Rows Back! The blogathon focuses on movies that were released in the fifth year of the decade. Mark and I will run a different entry each day (the first can be found on TRB and will be re-blogged here later). It is my great pleasure to feature the first review on DSB, a look at our earliest entry — a 1915 short called The Taking of Luke McVane, coming courtesy of Fritzi Kramer at Movies Silently. Please be sure to check out this place out, you won’t find a more comprehensive site on all things pre-talking pictures!

William S. Hart is a wanted man. He’s wanted by the law and he is especially wanted by Mercedes (Enid Markey), a local beauty with a giant crush on our antihero. This early Hart short zips along at a fierce pace until its bloody conclusion.

Some people believe that with very few exceptions, the western film was a genre for kiddies and B actors until mid-century “adult” westerns from Hollywood and the stylish, violent spaghetti westerns of the sixties and seventies.

Of course, the western genre had been used to tell mature and deep stories long before mid-century but many viewers are surprised to learn just how old the western antihero really is. Half a century before Sergio Leone shot a single foot of western footage, William S. Hart was leaving a trail of bodies and destruction across the Wild West.

A lot of early films featured painted sets and stage-inspired artificiality but 1910s audiences were demanding more and more authenticity. When Hart jumped into the movie game in 1914, he already had decades of stage experience under his belt and childhood memories of the west that would inspire the rugged, dusty authenticity of his films.

Just shy of fifty when he became a movie star, Hart was every inch the Victorian and the darkness of the previous century’s entertainment clung to him and infused his motion pictures with a grimness and ruthlessness that often comes as a shocker to modern viewers. Ironically, this very modern darkness made Hart’s films seem unfashionable to Jazz Age audiences, who preferred their cowboys to be affable stuntmen or bold pioneers rather than steely killers.

In 1914, though, Hart’s assertive characters and authentic settings—not to mention his twin pistols and his one-handed cigarette roll—took movie theaters by storm. No one could get enough of the Good Bad Man and the badder the better. The prime years for Hart were between 1916 and 1920. In 1915, he was still tinkering with his formula and seeing how much wickedness he could get away with on the screen. (Quite a lot, as it turned out.) While critics were soon sniffing at Hart’s stylized brutality, the general public was entranced.

The story of The Taking of Luke McVane opens in a sandy saloon. Luke McVane (William S. Hart, who also directed) is passing through (or, since this is a western, “passin’ through”) and has stopped for a drink and a game of cards. He is spotted by Mercedes (Enid Markey), the “belle of the Chuckawalla Valley,” which is a compliment if I have ever heard one.

Oh, before we go further, let’s talk a bit about Miss Markey. She may look familiar to you and if you enjoy 1960s TV, you probably have seen her. She is best known as Barney Fife’s landlady in the Up in Barney’s Room episode of the Andy Griffith Show, filmed nearly fifty years after The Taking of Luke McVane. Markey’s other claim to immortality is her title as Tarzan’s very first on-screen Jane. She played the role opposite Elmo Lincoln’s jungle hero in Tarzan of the Apes (1918)

But back to the movie!

Luke helps Mercedes out when one of her admirers gets a little grabby and Mercedes returns the favor by signaling Luke that his card partner is cheating. Luke shoots the skunk dead (as one does) and escapes just ahead of a lynch mob.

While the mob struggles to get organized, Sheriff Stark (Clifford Smith, Hart’s assistant director) rides off in pursuit of the fugitive. Mercedes see the chaos as a chance to help Luke once again. She takes two horses and, riding one and leading the other, she gallops all over the desert, creating a false trail. Mercedes’ plan works and the posse is hopelessly turned around.

The sheriff’s horse is fresher and he will soon overtake Luke and so our antihero sets up an ambush and shoots the sheriff. (And, no, he does not shoot the deputy.) When Luke approaches the body, he sees that the sheriff is not dead but gravely wounded. Now it’s one thing to gun a fellow down but leaving a wounded man to die under the desert sun is more than Luke can stomach.

Will Luke save the sheriff? Will Mercedes get her man? Will the mob get their hanging? These are the questions that drive the final act of The Taking of Luke McVane.

One thing I really liked about this film is that the heroine takes an active role in the proceedings. Silent films have an undeserved reputation for containing damsels and the old myth about train tracks still gets trotted out. In fact, silent heroines were a feisty lot and quite often rescued their lovers/families/friends, as is the case here. That being said, Hart’s leading ladies did tend to be on the passive side and so it is fun to see Mercedes make monkeys out of the posse.

It has sometimes been said that William S. Hart only had one plot and he used it again and again. While this is an enormous oversimplification, most of his best films did share certain story elements. Hart would play a psychotic killer who gets turned to the side of right either by religion, love of a good woman or some crisis of conscience. Then he would set out for revenge against the villains of the piece. His body count would be just as high or higher than it was before his conversion, mind you, he was just more particular about who he killed.

The Taking of Luke McVane can be seen more as an exercise or a dry run rather than a true Hart film. It has a lot of ingredients that Hart would incorporate into his later films but the seams show in a few places. The climax in particular seems tacked on and only included because no one knew how to end the thing. Contrast this to the apocalyptic fury of Hell’s Hinges (1916) in which Hart takes vengeance for a murdered minister and a vandalized church by burning an entire town to ashes.

(Spoilers in this paragraph) What The Taking of Luke McVane does have on its side is a heaping helping of dramatic irony. Luke nurses the sheriff back to health, is promised a fair trial and agrees to surrender himself. He carries a rose given to him by Mercedes and it is clear she is the reason why he is returning. However, both Luke and the sheriff are killed by Apaches en route to town. If Mercedes had not led the posse away, the sheriff and Luke may have survived. If Luke had refused to return to town, he and the sheriff may have survived. The love story of the picture dooms its lead. (I should note that Hart very rarely died on-screen.)

William S. Hart’s films are not always the easiest for modern audiences to appreciate. True, they have darkness and a high body count but remember that I said that Hart was every inch the Victorian? Well, the other side of the coin is that he also tended to be sincere, sentimental and he included strong doses of old-time religion in his pictures. The resulting films are simultaneously ahead of their time and behind it. This curious combination takes some getting used to but it’s worth the effort.

The Taking of Luke McVane is intriguing because of the foundation it lays down. You can see the Hart persona becoming clearer and clearer in his 1914 and 1915 films and this short added a few more ingredients to the recipe. Is it Hart’s best? No. Most fans choose either Hell’s Hinges, The Toll Gate or Tumbleweeds for that title. Is it worth seeing? It certainly is. You get to see the invention of a screen legend.

Note: The versions of this film found on YouTube and other online sources are played at the wrong speed; they are far too slow. I recommend seeing this film on the disc released by Grapevine.

Wild Tales

Posted on April 20, 2015 by Tom

Release: Friday, February 20, 2015 (limited)

[Theater]

Written by: Damián Szifrón

Directed by: Damián Szifrón

Having a rough day at the office? Car get towed? Is your name Britt McHenry? Wild Tales may be exactly the movie you need to see today.

Allow Argentinian Damián Szifrón to remedy your red-letter-day blues with a different kind of cinematic experience in the form of six short films each dealing with people on the verge of completely losing their cool when put in extremely distressing situations. As an anthology film, Wild Tales mixes comedy, drama and tragedy in a farcical manner only cinema can provide. Last year’s entry for Best Foreign Language Film distinguishes itself as a fascinating collage of circumstances, each one suggesting we all harbor this ability to do ridiculous things when we’re pushed past our breaking point.

Rather than reviewing this feature as a whole I think it’ll be more beneficial to break it down into its individual pieces and rate them individually.

‘Pasternak’

The first (and shortest) segment deals with passengers on a flight who all happen to have some kind of connection to a man named Pasternak. One man, a music critic sitting adjacent to Pasternak’s ex-girlfriend, claimed that he once destroyed Pasternak on the basis that he had not one lick of musical talent. And that’s just the beginning of this farce. It’s not long before the entire cabin realizes that the flight is nothing more than a trap that’s been brilliantly orchestrated by Pasternak himself (who is the chief pilot) and that their fates lie in his hands. Given that this is the introductory piece it’s put at somewhat of a disadvantage as the happenstance nature of the plot seems at first a bit farfetched and the performances aren’t uniformly convincing. However, this is a short that significantly improves when you look back upon it and becomes extremely amusing.

‘The Rats’ (‘Las Ratas’)

Arguably the least effective and least engaging of the entries, ‘Las Ratas’ deals with a scumbag customer who treats his server (an emotionally fragile woman) and kitchen staff (a disdainful old ex-con) with little to no respect. Quickly the server realizes this man, a loan shark, has been the source of her recent misery as he is responsible for the destruction of her family. The lady in the kitchen tells her she should take care of this pest once and for all by poisoning his food — an order of fried eggs with fries, no less. However, the server can’t quite bring herself to do such a thing. The sketch feels a little too forced and just doesn’t click as the others ultimately do. In sequence, however, this one ends up as a considerably darker expounding of the humor presented in ‘Pasternak,’ and remains a pretty entertaining watch despite its numerous shortcomings. Anyone who has ever worked a kitchen job should be able to identify with these women’s frustrations.

‘The Strongest’ (‘El más fuerte’)

Wild Tales hits its stride with this outrageous and hilarious showdown in the desert that pits two men of markedly different societal classes against one another in a scene where the description ‘genius’ doesn’t feel too sensational. What begins as a typical case of road rage culminates in a battle for survival as an upper-middle class white-collar worker (let’s just presume he is for the sake of brevity) blows a tire near a bridge and has to stop to fix it. The poorer man he happened to shout obscenities at while trying to overtake on the quiet desert road also shows up at the scene and begins threatening him, thinking the snob won’t escape. Tensions and tempers flare to unexpectedly comical levels, ending in a rather explosive finale where no one really wins. The third segment encompasses multiple emotions — fear, indignation, bitterness, jealousy among others — while portraying a situation that, while extreme, can be universally identified as an inconvenience. Quite possibly the best of the bunch.

‘Little Bomb’ (‘Bombita’)

‘Bombita’ may very well translate as the most empathetic of all these farces. Can we all agree that having one’s car towed es un dolor mayor en el culo? Simón is a demolitions expert whose car is towed away while parked along a curb that is not properly marked as a tow-away zone. As a rather emotional man, he makes sure his complaints are heard by the so-called fascists pigs in charge but in so doing his life begins to unravel to a degree the husband and father of a young daughter was never expecting. ‘Bombita’ accurately depicts the way logic and emotion have this distinctly infuriating relationship with one another — though ultimately how emotion usually ends up trumping the former. But Simón is pushed to a point where he finally takes a stand for himself, even though it’s pretty much cost him his family and what was left of his dignity (not to mention finances). Emotionally charged and engaging like few of the segments preceding it, this elevates Wild Tales‘ ambition to another level, even with ‘Bombita”s absurd conclusion.

‘The Proposal’ (‘La Propuesta’)

What gives Wild Tales such an air of authenticity is its ability to dabble in the realm of the tragic as well as the comedic. While comedy certainly dominates and is varied in terms of lightheartedness and absurdity, no segment thus far is neither as solemn nor as real as ‘La Propuesta.’ It deals with the son of a wealthy man named Mauricio and the consequences the youth must face after running down a pregnant woman while drunk during the course of a random night. He returns home and confesses to his parents, who in turn contact their lawyer. As Mauricio knows his son would not survive in prison he arranges that his groundskeeper take the fall, for payment. Unfortunately the scheme fails to convince the local prosecutor and Mauricio is forced into negotiating exorbitant prices to keep his son out of prison. What price would you pay to keep your family out of this kind of danger? The moral dilemma everyone in this segment faces is depicted with heart-wrenching attention to detail. It may not be the most enjoyable experience but it’s another highlight of this anthology.

‘Til Death Do Us Part’ (‘Hasta que la muerte nos separe’)

The final several (long) minutes of Wild Tales takes us to the world’s most ridiculous wedding reception, where Romina discovers her minutes-old husband, Ariel, has been cheating on her with one of the wedding guests. I’ve never been married but I’ve also never quite understood the term ‘bridezilla.’ Until now. ‘Hasta que la muerte nos separe’ is easily the least-disciplined of the lot and overstays its welcome by several minutes, as the conclusion is neither particularly believable nor inventive. The build-up to it — the fall-out between the newlyweds and their families — is a good bit of fun that epitomizes Szifrón’s intent to lampoon common stresses that have the potential to bring out the worst in people. He really goes overboard on this one, using the heightened emotions that weddings tend to extract (not just out of individuals but as a collective of loved ones who have various levels of concern) as a springboard to end Wild Tales on a decidedly cartoonish note. It’s not that it’s poorly done. It’s just, well . . . a bit too wild for it’s own good.

Recommendation: Wild Tales serves as a delightfully sensational take on human behavior, psychology, and interaction. The format is an ingenious decision on the part of Szifrón and each segment stands on its own in terms of its thematic content and emotional heft. If you’re seeking out something different from the usual cinema fare (I know that’s such a general recommendation, but I can’t say anything more in fear of spoiling this thing for you) allow me to point you in the direction of some theater that might happen to be playing this. Or when it comes out on DVD, be sure to give it a rental. You shouldn’t be disappointed.

Rated: R

Running Time: 122 mins.

All content originally published and the reproduction elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the blog owner is prohibited.

Photo credits: http://www.impawards.com; http://www.imdb.com

Aningaaq (Gravity “spin-off”)

Posted on November 21, 2013 by Tom

Release: Wednesday, November 20, 2013

[Vimeo]

Written by: Jonás Cuarón

Directed by: Jonás Cuarón

In case you departed Earth recently and don’t know yet, the film Gravity by Alfonso Cuarón was nothing short of a revolution in filmmaking, albeit mostly from a technical standpoint. While still selling a considerable number of buckets of popcorn for being a seemingly high-brow sci-fi adventure film, the legend to proceed it will be much more for the sheer brilliance of its scientific accuracy, visual depictions of life in space and its usage of sound — specifically, the lack thereof.

So authentic in its visual detail and human emotion, Gravity seems to be one of those films that you simply can’t get enough of. If you’re going to see it in theaters, it’s one that must be done in 3D (yes, I just said that) and on the IMAX screen. Twice in a row. Some of the more hardcore of us may feel that even that’s not enough to satiate the appetite; fortunately, the brilliant director’s son, Jonas, is where and whom we should turn to next.

Not more than a day ago, it was revealed that Jonas had conceived of a 7-minute short film that shows what goes down on the other side of the desperate calls Sandra Bullock’s Doctor Ryan Stone makes to Earth to try and get help. The film, titled Aningaaq, deals with a major plot point in the film, and it should really go without saying here that if you have yet to see the full-length feature, you should not watch this short until you do. This WILL ruin the film for you, if you aren’t careful.

With that said, Aningaaq is pure brilliance, and serves as a fascinating companion piece to one of 2013’s most eerie and tense dramas. As was the case with the full-length feature, Aningaaq is similarly fraught with tension, though it’s far more limited and not as complex. It is nevertheless a must-see featurette for those who experienced Doctor Stone’s ordeal with isolation in space; it’s important to hear and see what the world is like on the other end of a poor radio signal that is effectively your only tether to the rest of humanity when you’re in orbit.

Ingeniously answering a major question some (if not all) viewers likely have, had or will have in a pivotal and highly emotional scene towards the end, these seven minutes of footage also serve as a good heads-up of what to look for come the awards ceremony, paying particular attention to the short film category. This strange title (referring to the Inuit man featured here) should be one mentioned at some point.

To watch the film yourself (again, please see the actual film first) click the link below, which will take you to the Hollywood Reporter. Enjoy!

http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/gravity-spinoff-watch-side-sandra-657919

Recommendation: Given that you. . . well, er. . .liked Gravity, this will undoubtedly help establish an even bigger appreciation of what was just accomplished in this supremely intelligent piece of cinema.

Rated: NR

Running Time: 7 mins.

[No trailer available. Sorry everyone.]

All content originally published and the reproduction elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the blog owner is prohibited.

Photo credits: http://www.filmaffinity.com; http://www.screenrant.com

Thomas J

My Journey Through Film

Tag Archives: #shorts

World of Tomorrow

In memory of my mother.

TBT: Out Cold (2001)

Decades Blogathon – The Taking of Luke McVane (1915)

Wild Tales

Aningaaq (Gravity “spin-off”)