Wendy's Films of 2010 # 111 - #134: A Rush to Finish 2010's Reviews!

What with the store closing and all, I decided to take a slightly unconventional turn in an attempt to finish reviewing every new film (new to me, that is) I watched this year. I knew I wouldn't make it writing longer reviews since I have over 60 movies left on the list, but thought that this might at least be fun to read even if it wasn't very descriptive.

#111. True Blood: Season 2 (2009)

My guilty pleasure. Sexy, southern and full of bloodlust; it's like eating a dark, rich dangerously delicious chocolate cake that I just can't get enough of.

#112. Snake in the Eagle's Shadow (1978)

Jackie Chan a school janitor? You bet, but as expected he's soon to become a kick-ass martial artist! Good, but not the best Chan movie I've seen.

#113. Batman: The Movie (1966)

"Some days you just can't get rid of a bomb." Cheesy, corny, wonderful 1960s fun: "It looks bad, batman. This brassy bird has us buffaloed."

#114. Lifeforce (1985)

A crazy sci-fi, vampire, zombie movie that's bound to blow your mind with it's absurdity, badness and greatness.

#115. Princess Mononoke (1997)

Probably my favourite Hayao Miyazaki film so far. The music, the animation, the colours, and especially the story: everything just blew me away.

#116. Subway (1985)

A neat film directed by Luc Besson and starring a french-speaking Christopher Lambert who roams the subways of Paris while blackmailing the woman he's infatuated with. It's very 80s and kind of strange, but awesome.

#117. Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus (2009)

Really? You need a review? Nah.

#118. Delicatessen (1991)

Colourful, classic Jean-Pierre Jeunet full of funny, sweet, dark and strange moments that are sure to please (if you're like me, that is.)

#119. Super Mario Bros. (1993)

I have no idea how they came up with the ideas they used in this film, but it's pretty fucking crazy and I kinda liked it.

#120. The Ladykillers (2004)

I really enjoyed this one, though that trend is pretty common with

me and the Coens. I'm still not totally sold on Tom Hanks, but hey, he's not so bad.

#121. Twilight: Eclipse (2010)

Unfortunately, it was better than the first.

#122. The Awful Truth (1937)

I love my Cary Grant romances and this is another classic. Perhaps not as wonderful as some of his others, but it seems he really can't go wrong.

#123. Project A-2 (1987)

"But I'm not cooking! So it stays open!" Apparently I thought this Jackie Chan line was so terribly funny that it deserved to be quoted, but I can't for the life of me remember why. I can't even remember what the movie's about. I think he plays a straight cop in a crooked area of town or something...

#124. Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982)

Crazy disgusting slimy ear bugs. Also, it's quite awesome.

#125. The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus (2009)

Colourful, nonsensical, neat to watch and Heath Ledger's last film.

#126. Objectified (2009)

Ooo, this documentary was way more boring than I thought it would be. I fell asleep.

#127. Porco Rosso (1992)

Wonderfully detailed, beautifully animated Miyazaki film about a mysterious swine-resembling pilot that takes a begrudging liking to a young girl and the antics that ensue.

#128. An American in Paris (1951)

Charming in a 1950s musical kind of way. Not my favourite old musical, but it'll do.

#129. The Beaches of Agnès (2008)

A lovely film by Agnes Varda about the life she lead, the man she loved and the beautiful films she made.

#130. Freaks and Geeks (1999-2000)

Probably my favourite series of the year (either that or Skins). It's a great, funny, interesting show about high school in the early 80s and I just can't get its lead, Linda Cardellini, out of my head. (Also starring James Franco, Seth Rogan, Jason Segal and directed by Judd Apatow. I know, right?)

#131. The Jerk (1979)

A charming idiot (Steve Martin) somehow ends up alright after leaving his family

#132. Against All Flags (1952)

Errol Flynn. Pirates.

#133. Super Fly (1972)

Pretty good blaxploitation film about a man who wants out of the cocaine dealing business: "Can you dig it?"

#134. Undeclared (2001-2002)

Sort of a continuation of Freaks and Geeks, directed by Apatow, but starring a completely different cast and taking place a few decades later. Also, not quite as good.

Ryan Watches A Motion Picture #81: Blue Planet (2001)

This BBC series apparently five years in the making is narrated by none other than the nature doc legend himself, David Attenborough. His wisened voice has lent itself well to the nature documentary for some time, and does no disservice to the sea. If you haven't treated yourself to a lengthy and thoroughly entertaining series like this yet, you better get on that while there are still animals in the ocean to appreciate.

As you'd expect, you'll be given stunning footage of the intricacies of undersea life, running through the various kinds of sea environments that the world has to offer. You'll be given footage and information that might even turn off the squeamish - nature, children's stories tell us, isn't exactly nice, or unfalteringly pretty. Easy to forget, but the series will offer up some firm reminders that majesty is a thing of power, and power is very often a thing of violence. When you're not seeing amazing beauty, you might be seeing killer whales play tennis with a baby seal, or the eggy, undulating jangly bits of lobsters ready to give birth.

So: Awesome. An emotional roller coaster at times, but in the healthiest way.

Ryan Watches A Motion Picture #80: Until The Light Takes Us (2008)

I'd heard about a handful of documentaries that have popped up over the past two or three years tackling Norwegian black metal and its turbulent history as their subject. When one actually appeared in front of me after I drew a pentagram in ketchup on the floor and lit some scented candles, I decided to give it a watch. Being big on Norwegian black metal myself, I was wary of being sold a cheap hunk of fan-service meant to do little more than nod in my direction for an hour and 20.

Opening up the DVD package I found a pretentious little booklet with a glowing review, an essay by the directors telling you what theoretical approach to use while watching, and a Fredric Jameson quote. Huh. Unexpected. But I should have expected this - with black metal having become a satanic farce, there's been a real push among aficionados to re-contextualise the subgenre and understand it as a clear instance of youth culture. And, moreover, as punk did before it, be recognised as a viable movement with an ethos of its own.

I'm happy to report that Until The Light Takes Us doesn't hammer that notion down into your skull as fiercely as the booklet does. Instead it follows the daily lives of four or five key figures in black metal history - of special note, Fenriz of Darkthrone and Varg Vikernes of Burzum, the latter of which was, at the time of filming, still in jail for murder and the arson of historic church sites. Other figures from the metal scene of the period pop in and out of the film, but the most engrossing portraits are found in those main two. They are old friends and they haven't spoken to each other in years. They don't come together in the film, as there is a palpable sadness that forces them to leave it all to time. It culminates during a scene where Fenriz is shown footage, shown earlier, of Varg speaking well of him and his music, but Varg, as always, is possessed by a persecution complex, and you can hear the accusation of abandonment in his voice. Fenriz actually holds back tears and laments over the past with little word.

There's a lot of psychoses on display in the film. His obsession with persecution aside, Varg hints at anti-semitism, Hellhammer explicitly approves of the killing of homosexuals, Fenriz tries to figure out where it all went sour, and a younger black metaller takes part in an ultra grim performance art piece proposed by a local painter. All reflect on what the genre is supposed to be about, and their points slowly converge. When all is said and done, we've been given a look at the really interesting and sympathetic people that invented a new mode of metallic expression, and the really interesting and awful ones that are an inseparable part of it too.

For black metal fans, you'll get the bonus of seeing intimate interviews with people you've probably mostly read about, and rare rehearsal footage you might have never seen before.

So: Surprisingly good. Worth a watch for fans and non-fans alike.

Ryan Watches A Motion Picture #60: The Dungeon Masters (2008)

Hat is on, prepare to bleed.

Geek-sense...tingling! The independent media has been giving increasing attention to geekdom over the years, and subcultures of nerdery are beginning to take centre stage as the geeks that were swept up by the sword and sorcery of the 80s grow older and infiltrate the media engine. Since hearing about The Dungeon Masters I'd been eager to see how it had been handled. It's a documentary that follows the lives of three Dungeons and Dragons players, or, more specifically and clearly implied by the title, DUNGEON MASTERS. I hope you're picturing hulking monstrosities in black armour cracking whips over lava pits, because you're not going to be seeing that at all.

You will instead be seeing three social misfits trying to create a social dynamic with rules they can understand. For anyone not in the know about this type of nerdery, the dungeon master, or DM, is the guy or gal that leads the group of Dungeons and Dragons players. They make up the stories, narrate for the characters and creatures the players encounter, and oversee the mechanics of the game.

The three DMs are:

1. A guy going through the emotional perils of writing a fantasy novel and dealing with an agent.

2. A woman dressed as a dark elf traumatised by hurricane Katrina and searching for love.

3. An army-reservist alienating his group of players with his extremely controlling and adversarial DMing.

These three DM to create control and comfort in their lives when the outside world is unsympathetic, or they can't quite match dance steps with the rest of life. As a DnD player it was interesting to find points of connection with the DMs and players; the central drives to why we play, or how we got into the fantasy genre in the first place, are mostly identical. The DMs talk about the kinds of characters they find themselves playing and you can draw some conclusions as to why they favour them.

So: A cool look into the private lives of dungeon masters and DnD players. A little bit more clear insight would have been nice, but you can draw your own conclusions.

Ryan Watches A Motion Picture #55: Fidel Castro (2005)

Fidel Castro looks like Liam Neeson.

While continuing my brush-up on Cuban history, which started with Che: Part One, I realised that I knew next to nothing about Fidel Castro. Figured I should learn a bit about a man, the leader of a small third world country, who has, incredibly, put in his bid to direct the way the world spins. Turns out there's two documentaries on the bearded wonder, Fidel and Fidel Castro, the latter of which is a PBS production and part of The American Experience series. The first is a well-narrated and comprehensive rundown of Cuba's history that plays out like an A&E biography with still photographs and steady pacing, where the second is comprised mainly of more intimate footage of the man. My favourite parts, and perhaps the most telling, were the moments where you're given a stretch of footage, without any commentary, and you're forced to draw your own conclusions as to whether or not Castro is a just man, a tyrant, or just a man. The two work together well in painting a portrait of Castro, but the second adds a much more human face to the Cuban revolution and the military leader.

So: If you're looking to brush up on your Cuban history and can't be bothered to read because you're a busy bee and/or an illiterate drone, I can think of no better way.

Ryan Watches A Motion Picture #50: Collapse (2009)

This political and environmental documentary follows the life's work of Michael Ruppert, a law enforcement whistle blower who was first approached by the documentarians to talk about what he had seen in regards to the cocaine the CIA seems to be smuggling into the United States (Ruppert was approached to take part in their operations, and he turned them down. His fiancé, who worked for the CIA, left him shortly afterwards. He thought that was fishy). Turns out he wanted to talk about something else. He apparently called the global economic crisis back in 2006 through his newsletter From The Wilderness, and during that year had been on tour urging people to get into gold, reduce their debt as much as possible, and take a hard look at their mortgages. He was warning people about a coming collapse.

In the doc we basically watch this guy run through a list of topics, providing viewers with his guesses at how things are going and why they are the way they are. It pretty much tells us what we already know: peak oil exists, ethanol is a joke, and we can't maintain our current lifestyle forever. If you've seen The End of Suburbia, it's much the same insight - that peak oil will become no oil, and since everything is oil-based we've got to prepare for a world where everything will stop until we can figure out a new way of living. That the world we've built, that our lifestyles under the resource of oil will have to evolve into something else. We can't get a job in another city. We can't eat oranges from California. To survive we'll have to move locally and grow food locally. Essentially, Ruppert says, the industrial age will end.

Our political ideals will end as well, and will have to be re-written within a new paradigm. One more in step with a world of finite resources and not, as it is today, one dependent on the presumption that growth is infinite - growth of wealth, of standard of living, etc. That we must realise that we have to live within the limitations of the planet. That's the crux of Michael Ruppert.

The guy has 30 years of investigative journalism as his main credential, and his work has become a personal obsession for him. It's frightening to see just how consumed he is, and it adds a bitter desperation to the connections he finds in the news clippings he collects. He's angry, and he's resentful and he admits as much. You get the impression though, sometimes, that he's placing personal links that might not be there, like when he says that there's no doubt in his mind that Rumsfeld and Cheney took personal interest in his actions and the things he was publishing in his newsletter. This is of course unverifiable, and it's apparent that much of the links he sees are investigative inferences without much hope of verification. But what else is someone to do? Leave it all to the higher-ups? Not watch? Not make guesses? Not get angry? Worst case scenario, he's wrong and we pay attention to something that's worth paying attention to.

The director has a voice in the documentary since it's arrayed like an interview, and three or four times in the film addresses Ruppert with some critical questions. One of the last is the concern that it's possible to pick through articles until you can find enough that support the world you're expecting to see. Evidence for the links that you want to make. Ruppert's answer is that he doesn't get into debates anymore. That there is, in fact, no debate. That he doesn't need to, because the things that he and his colleagues have saying will happen once we've hit peak oil has actually been happening. That it's there now, plain to see and beyond question.

The documentary provides no solutions. Only general directives. I learned in the special features that the book supposedly gets more specific.

So: Not sure where I stand on everything he says, but this is certainly the clearest outline of the reasoning behind the sustainability movement that I've seen so far.

Chris 2010 Viewings #34-38: Tidying up. (with UPDATE!)

Hopelessly behind in the great Gen X watching/blogging challenge, I came up with an exciting way to keep myself interested in watching movies: only watching movies I really want to see and am virtually certain I will like. I know, it's crazy, right? So I've started, and only 5 films in, I have managed three great new movies, one auteurist dud, and a re-viewing of an all-time great. I will blog those soon, but first I have to clear the decks of some pre-moviepalooza viewings.



34. A Girl Cut in Two (2007, Claude Chabrol)

With Eric Rohmer recently deceased, Chabrol is almost certainly my favourite living director. I never meet anyone who agrees with me, and I understand why: Chabrol alternates masterworks and throwaways like no other great filmmaker. But each of them is unmistakeably his work; it's a flavour I like as much or more than any other, and any chance I get to taste a new one is a treat, regardless of whether it's one of his peak confections or not.

A Girl Cut in Two isn't a masterpiece, neither is it a throwaway confection, it's a solid piece of work. With Chabrol's reputation as the French Hitchcock, one might expect the title to refer to a literal murder, rather it's an unexpectedly moving metaphor for the title character that I won't spoil here. The impossibly hot Ludivine Sagnier is a perky small-town television weathergirl who finds herself torn between two suitors: a famous, married author whom she deeply loves but treats their relationship as a trifle; and a mostly worthless playboy who loves her passionately but she can only muster feelings of friendship for.

Chabrol is blessed with a marvelous trio of actors to embody this romantic triangle. Sagnier and François Berléand are fine as the girl and the author, but the real surprise is Benoît Magimel, whose character seems at first glance a ridiculous caricature, but generates considerable depth and pathos as the plot unfolds.




35-36. Little Big Man (1970, Arthur Penn) and Kramer vs. Kramer (1979, Robert Benton)

Two famous performances by Dustin Hoffman; two films that get the top rating (****) in Leonard Maltin's movie guide, my one-time bible. The former is a bit of a cult favourite, the latter an Oscar-winning juggernaut. The former is a western epic, with Hoffman playing Jack Crabbe from a young adult who's been raised by Indians, to being the only white survivor of Custer's last stand, to a 100+ year old man telling the tall tale that is his life to a journalist. The latter is a small family drama of the effects of divorce on a man and his young son, especially when his ex-wife decides she wants custody.

I much prefer Hoffman in Kramer: I'll always take his smaller, quieter performances to his brash, loud ones. I realized the bigger-than-life quality of his emoting at the various stages of Little Big Man is part of the point, but I'm always drawn to the charisma he exudes when seemingly essaying the small moments in everyday life.

Neither of these movies is a masterpiece, but as to which is better, there is no contest. Little Big Man is alternately hilarious and moving, especially the moments between Hoffman and his Indian "grandfather" Chief Dan George, who steals every scene that he's in. Every time the film settles into a nice, comfortable groove, it pulls the rug out from under you, throwing Jack into a new dilemma and environment, leaving multiple myths about the frontier days of the United States destroyed in its wake. Numerous actors (George, Faye Dunaway, Martin Balsam) make impressions in small roles, with Richard Mulligan a particular delight as the insane General Custer.

Kramer vs. Kramer, on the other hand, is a shocking movie. It's decent if unexciting for much of its running time, and it's very much Hoffman's show, running the gamut of emotions as he deals with the fallout from his divorce and his new status as single dad. Then Meryl Streep shows up again and declares that she is going to seek custody, and after 80 minutes the vs. Kramer starts to come into play. I think the movie becomes a little less special here, less time being spent on the nice little character touches that are the major plus of the first half, and more on court drama. Then the verdict comes down and everyone is sad.

But then... holy crap, how have I never been made aware over the years what a bullshit ending this movie has? I mean, everyone knows that Psycho and The Crying Game have big twists, everyone says that one instance of Hayden Chistensen yelling "Nooooooooo!" ruins Star Wars 3... how has the bullshit ending of Kramer vs. Kramer not entered the pantheon of things everyone knows about even if they haven't seen it? I mean, I don't want to ruin it, but this movie basically spends 110 minutes building up to a devastating emotional blow, and then a character says "I changed my mind! Happy birthday!" and everything's OK. In that one moment I want to revoke American Beauty's claim to the crown of worst Best Picture Oscar winner ever. But Kramer is still an OK movie, just... bullshit.


37. Oceans (2009, Jacques Perrin)

Oceans is the second entry in Disney's DisneyNature series, following Earth, last year's recycling of moments from the BBC's Planet Earth series. Oceans is an actual movie, made by the team behind Winged Migration, a film popular with people who won't seen Oceans because it's a Disney movie. The director was also the juvenile lead in my favourite film of all time, which has no bearing on the merits of Oceans, but made me happy anyway.

I'll tell you one thing that didn't make me happy, though: Oceans. Don't get me wrong, this is an impressive piece of work, filled with jawdropping imagery that not only made me wonder several times whether its incredibly imagery was faked (it wasn't), but kept my narrative-driven 6-year-old rapt for the film's entire running time.

But I saw Oceans on its second weekend, a few days after the BP leak started, on the day it first started to get major media attention. So when Pierce Brosnan's voice over spends the last 10 minutes musing about delicate ecosystems, I wanted to curl up on the floor and die. I can't imagine how I would feel if I watched it now.

So... this is a flabbergastingly well-done film. I just can't imagine watching it any time soon and not wanting to commit suicide.


38. The Wolfman (2010, Joe Johnston)

Eight years ago I was still a movie maniac. I watched roughly 7 movies a week and wrote them up. Then I saw a movie called My Big Fat Greek Wedding and it all came crashing down. I was broken. Since then I have considered it a productive movie watching year if I managed to see 20 films of my own accord.

These days I still don't watch a lot of movies, in spite of my job. I mean, here we are having this viewing-and-blogging contest and I've still only managed 38 movies in the first half of the year. That's when I'm motivated. Then I saw a movie called The Wolfman.

We have spent enough time chewing out the staff member who told us this movie is not that bad. But I will say she was wrong. It is worse. Here are the only positive things I have to say about this movie:

1) Max von Sydow shows up for a minute near the beginning.

2) There is a scene where Anthony Hopkins is walking up the stairs and Emily Blunt is coming down and they both stop halfway, on the landing and Emily Blunt asks Anthony Hopkins a question. He does not reply verbally, but by chewing an apple in a way that is pretty hilarious.

3) The Wolfman make-up is based on the makeup Oliver Reed wore in the Hammer film Curse of the Werewolf. During the climax, the bad werewolf (there are two) rips off his shirt and fights the good werewolf in front of a fireplace. I was briefly amused by the similarity to the scene in Women in Love where Oliver Reed and Alan Bates wrestle nude in front of a similar fireplace.

Now, those three "plusses" considered, the following becomes clear:

1) Max von Sydow doesn't actually do anything awesome, I was just happy to see him, so that can't really be said to be something the film did well.

2) The similarity to Women in Love was probably just my imagination searching for something to be entertained by.

Therefore:

3) The best thing in the entire running time of The Wolfman is SOMEONE EATING AN APPLE.

And Mike informs me that part is only in the extended director's cut. Is apple eating worth an extra 15-20 minutes of pain? It is not.

Oh, and there is CGI. Piles and piles of crappy, unconvincing CGI. I'll tell you, when a CGI werewolf is running over CGI roofs beneath a CGI sky, one thing I am not is excited. What I am is watching a cartoon, and not a good one. And this movie is not content to just use CGI in place of actual physical things. Many of the lighting "effects" are achieved by laying some CGI shadows across objects and faces. These do not look like shadows, they look like dirt on my TV.

It is a little sad that the 1941 Wolf Man has makeup that, while excellent, looks like a guy in Wolf Man makeup. It features sets that are clearly fake trees on a studio backlot. It is 70 minutes long. In spite of all this it still manages to generate actual pathos and sadness for its characters, and has a poweful air of tragic inevitability to its tale of a poor schmuck who has the bad luck to get bitten by a werewolf. The 2010 Wolf Man defies you give a rat's ass about the characters its Oscar winning cast portray and can't even manage an air of tragic inevitability in a story about a guy whose DAD IS A WEREWOLF AND TURNS HIM INTO ONE.

UPDATE: I was in a hurry to finish writing this, so I forgot two really important things about The Wolfman.

1) Mike also informs me that Max von Sydow is only in the extended director's cut as well.

2) There is a CGI bear in this movie. The bear is required to do two things: 1) walk about on all fours; 2) get agitated when the wolfman is loose in the gypsy camp. I will argue that the difference in cost between renting a circus bear to do these two basic things is negligible compared to paying some hotshot to animate one on a computer. It is also the only sane choice when you use a CGI bear as ridiculously unbelievable (and this in the context of The Wolfman!) as the one on display here. Would you like to see how to create a more believable bear than the one in this film? Here you go:


You're welcome.

But it gets worse! While searching the web for a still of this CGI bear, we discover that the Wolfman crew didn't even create this CGI bear, they lifted it from the effects of The Golden Compass, where it was a polar bear, and they made it brown. So they already knew it was a ridiculous-looking CGI bear, which invoked ridicule in the film for which it was created! They saved money, but knew that what they were using was ass! The shame of The Wolfman gets deeper every time one looks back at it.

Wendy's Films of 2010 #83: This Is Kung Fu (1987)

When I say this film is sort of boring, I say it in the best way possible. In fact, I would even consider watching it again. This is Kung Fu is boring only if you take it at face value; if you enjoy martial arts films and have a sense of humour, however, you might just find this to be exactly what you're looking for. One plot summary I found is perfect: "Documentary featuring scenes of hand-to-hand and combat with weapons." This is what the entire film consists of. In it, people "play at" various kinds of Kung Fu and the narrator describes what they do. There are also some pretty crazy stunts (though I hesitate to call them such), especially those performed by the children of a Kung Fu practising family about 3/4 of the way through the film. Several parts feature a young Jet Li, and the film will certainly clear up any confusion over the styles and weapons used. I only wish I had written down some of the phrases used by the narrator, as they made me laugh way harder than any comedy has of late.

Pose Reviews A Movie. #14: The White Stripes: Under Great White Northern Lights

For self-proclaimed fans of the stylish and minimalist blues-rock duo The White Stripes, this one's a keeper.

Emmett Malloy's intimate look at the band's 2007 Canadian tour provides great footage of a lot of backstage dynamics and candid conversation from increasingly legendary guitarist Jack White and drummer Meg White, but it's also a really sweet look at our fair country, focusing specifically on some of the more remote parts of Canada.

The White Stripes' Canadian tour was a pretty big deal back in 2007, since it blanketed the entire country, with performances in every province and territory, including surprise daytime gigs in unusual venues like bowling alleys, YMCA summer camps, and on board boats and buses.

Jack White states explicitly at the beginning of the film that he and Meg specifically wanted to play shows in smaller communities, citing that the real heart of a nation as big as ours lies mostly in the outlying areas.

Mind you, that attitude didn't stop them from playing the Molson Ampitheatre in Toronto--a gig that I was enthusiastically present for, but which, to my dismay, didn't get covered in the documentary.

But the fact that the Toronto gig is marginalized to provide extensive focus on the Yellowknife, Whitehorse and Iqaluit tour dates is what makes Under Great White Northern Lights so charming, especially for Canadians.

It gives some of us more urban, cosmopolitan Canadian viewers a chance to see what some of the more remote destinations in our country are truly like--not what tourism photos and gross misconceptions might have you believe.

Although the northern reaches of Canada are supposed to provide a backdrop for a documentary about the band, the film (perhaps inadvertently) acts as a cinematic essay about the land.

I loved the scenes depicting the landscapes of places like Yellowknife, Whitehorse and Iqaluit just as much as I enjoyed the footage of band interviews.

And believe me, that enjoyment was an unexpected by-product--mainly, I just freakin' love The White Stripes.

Regardless of whether you want to focus on the film's depiction of Jack and Meg's relationship and their connection to their music, or the geographic locale of their tour, Under Great White Northern Lights is a really enjoyable documentary.

My only complaint (and it isn't really much of one) is that although there is some footage of the live performances, it's strictly in bits and pieces.

Granted, if you want to see a full-fledged White Stripes concert film, you'd be better off watching 2004's The White Stripes: Under Blackpool Lights, which is certainly one of the better concert DVDs I've ever seen, and definitely a great representation of what their live shows are like.

But I have seen music documentaries strike a much more impressive balance between onstage and backstage footage like Steven Cantor and Matthew Galkin's LoudQUIETLoud: A Film About The Pixies which includes interviews with the band members interspersed with footage of songs played on tour from beginning to end.

Despite that small criticism, though, I thought Under Great White Northern Lights was a love letter to my country, written by one of my favourite bands and delivered by an extremely competent filmmaker.

All in all, I give it four and a half face-melting guitar solos out of five.

#55. Fat Head

I'm a big fan of testing my assumptions, so a skeptic's response to Super Size Me burned at me the more I passed it in the store, until it was essentially watch the film or internally combust. Comic Tom Naughton put together Fat Head, an independent documentary (2009), after vehemently disagreeing with most of the basic assumptions made in the former, 2004 documentary. In Super Size Me Morgan Spurlock goes on an all-McDonald's diet for thirty days--interspersing his ill-fated descent into McHealth Problems with commentary arguing that the fast food industry is a menace to healthy, informed society. After thirty days, Spurlock gained 25 pounds on the McDiet and saw a tremendous overall deterioration in his health; in contrast, Naughton makes the argument that having a functional brain, and using it, can turn even fast food into an effective weight reduction option. His challenge? To eat nothing but fast food for twenty-eight days, but to do so with a critical eye (and again, a functioning brain) and in so doing actually improve his overall health. To his doctor's great surprise, Naughton achieves this feat, but the thrust of this documentary is less the feat itself than a deconstruction a) of fallacy and contradiction in Super Size Me, b) bias, exaggeration, and outright dishonesty in campaigning on the part of anti-fast food advocates, and c) dieting theories and obesity epidemic discourses that have little to no demonstrable evidence to support their claims -- claims which have nonetheless become entrenched in popular culture over the past fifty years, and may perhaps have made our collective health worse in the process.

When I outline the case Naughton makes, I by no means intend to suggest that his documentary is somehow free of hyperbolic rhetoric, fallacy, misdirection, and some commentary that borders on plain old offensive. One example that particularly tweaked me was Naughton deconstructing the "obesity epidemic" language bandied loosely about, then noting that the U.S. population over the measured period of obesity growth also saw a doubling of African American and Latino American populations, and finally making the completely unjustified assertion that African American and Latino Americans were just genetically predisposed to being heavier. This is part of a consistent flip-flopping throughout the film between wanting Caucasians to empathize with the absurdity of obesity definitions and news footage targeting larger Caucasians on the street, then calling out the "obesity epidemic" rhetoric for being inherently classist and racist. Another such contradiction (plied, of course, for rhetorical effect), is Naughton's dramatic show of finding "health food" unpalatable before entering his twenty-eight day fast food diet, then near the end of the film, to give himself more authority when talking about the strengths and weaknesses of various diets, conveniently fessing up to having eaten such health food consistently for a period of three years.

Such contradictions and consequent hypocrisies (i.e. calling out Spurlock for contradictions and misdirections while employing a few of his own) are sadly par for the course in persuasive documentaries, but they need not be absorbed and replicated by viewers: It would be equally fallacious to condemn the whole of Naughton's film on the basis of heavy-handed rhetoric and frequent misdirections. Despite their presence in Fat Head, Naughton also makes a few exceptionally salient arguments, for which he surprised the hell out of me by providing a slew of evidence in varying forms. Having recently watched Food, Inc, I was also tremendously surprised to realize that a lot of what he was arguing for aligned itself pretty well with some core truths espoused by that more industry-critical film. Naughton's argument -- for individual empowerment, ownership of responsibility, and having faith in other individuals to make similarly sensible decisions (both for themselves and their children) -- thus works best when viewed as another piece of the greater puzzle that is human interaction with food in the post-industrial age. Naughton's not completely right with what he argues in Fat Head, but he's also not even close to completely wrong.

Wendy's Films of 2010 #63: Valentino: The Last Emperor (2008)

You're probably wondering what a picture of ugly cute dogs has to do with a review related to one of the most prolific and recognized fashion designers of our time. But these furry little buggers are an essential part of this film about a man who's passion is for making women feel beautiful. The film is a small insight into the mind and life of Valentino Garavani; how he lives; how he designs; how he interacts with other people, and those smaller parts of life like the dogs that seem to follow him wherever he goes. His relationship with partner and business partner Giancarlo Giammetti is displayed with limited emotion, and yet comes across as one of great passion. This intense, restrained passion also comes out in the stunning creations he makes. His dresses are the focus of the film, each scene seems to revolve around them, and the detail and imagination with which he creates each gown is an insight into the mind of this fashion legend. Definitely one to check out if you're at all interested in fashion.

Chris 2010 Viewings #30: Jazz on a Summer's Day

US, 1960. Directed by Bert Stern & Aram Avakian.

It may pain me to say that most jazz films suck, but it pains me even more that it's true. This is true of both major subgenres of the jazz film. Fictional/biopic narratives are mostly sabotaged by either B.S. "jazz mythology" and/or non-musician actors miming along painfully with pre-recorded tracks. Documentaries are mostly sabotaged by either B.S. "jazz mythology" or the filmmakers' belief - probably correct - that an audience won't sit still for sustained performance, resulting in voiceovers drowning out music or frequent cutting away from it.

The two greatest jazz features are both documentaries and both are guilty of the faults listed above, but use them in enough moderation that one can forgive them somewhat. Plus both have priceless, compelling, aesthetically interesting footage that gives them a core of real substance. The first is Thelonious Monk: Straight, No Chaser, which features the usual talking heads style but is mostly extensive and mostly terrific footage of Monk himself, circa 1967, at close quarters during his day to day life and work.

The other is Jazz at a Summer's Day, a major arthouse title in its day, photographed at the 1958 Newport Jazz Festival. Most extant footage of major jazz figures of this vintage is indifferently preserved kinoscopes of television appearances whose master recordings were usually destroyed soon thereafter, if they were recorded at all. Major figures like Billie Holiday, Lester Young, and Charlie Parker remain ghosts in these hazy transcriptions. Jazz on a Summer's Day was shot on quality film stock, in beautiful, highly saturated colour, which is perfectly preserved on DVD. The bright, crisp, striking imagery brings these performers to life.

Some not-strictly-jazz performers make appearances (Big Maybelle, Chuck Berry, and a riveting Mahalia Jackson finale), but overall great jazz is the order of the day. The highlights that make this film absolutely invaluable to me:

The film opens with the Jimmy Giuffre trio, with Bob Brookmeyer and Jim Hall playing "The Train and the River", one of Giuffre's loveliest pieces of the chamber jazz so popular at the time this was filmed. Stern betrays his career as an influential photographer by capturing Giuffre and Brookmeyer's subtle interplay in one lovely sustained shot, Giuffre from the side, Brookmeyer head on, whichever player is more dominant (usually Giuffre) receiving the sharper focus.

Thelonious Monk (billed as "Thelonius") follows, for one of the film's major missteps, as Stern cuts away early from visuals of the performance, allowing Monk's music to be accompanied by footage of the concurrent Americas Cup sailing contest tryouts. Colour footage of Monk - especially of this quality - is hard to come by, so it's impossible not t0 be disappointed by the break, even if this performance of "Blue Monk" is the man at his most restrained.

Anita O'Day steals the film. In spite of being in the midst of a brilliant run of records for Verve, O'Day was at the time mostly remembered as the girl singer in Gene Krupa's early 40s big band. Jazz at a Summer's Day ensured her a place in the pantheon, with two glorious small group numbers showing off her impossibly great rhythmic sense. Vocal jazz fans who dwell on the singer's connection with the words tend to disdain O'Day, who functioned more a musician does, breaking up phrases and words to suit her musical conception, not the words of a long-absent lyricist. Stern's cameras assume position to capture the performance from two angles - a side view and a lower frontal placement - that give us iconic views of a genuinely iconic perf0rmance.

Dinah Washington is in terrific form, singing "All of Me" backed by an all-star group featuring a jubilant Max Roach. The vocal is quite wonderful, but most memorable is Dinah's joining Terry Gibbs on vibes for a musical duel, spiritedly pushing each other away from the instrument when it's their turn, both of them having a ball.

Gerry Mulligan's new quartet featuring Art Farmer only had one rehearsal before this gig, and it shows. Farmer's notes are uncharacteristically scattershot, and the tempo is too fast, but the performance is key to understanding what makes jazz so exciting. Musically, the quartet would go on to make much more perfect music, but here, fighting to hold everything together inside Mulligan's challenging conception that discourages glib cliches - and they do hold it together - it makes for absolutely compelling listening. They're all in the moment, thinking quick for solutions and inevitably making it. The way it's photographed, with the intensity on Mulligan's face truly s0mething to behold, enhances the exitement.

Chico Hamilton's quintet with Eric Dolphy is featured twice - once in rehearsal in what was obviously a stifling room, and once at the concert. The concert performance shows Stern's technique at its most dramatic - holding Hamilton in a single, largely unmoving close-up with a blazing red background making him look like his life depends on his subtle drumming keeping him from slipping backwards into the gate of hell. We also get a few precious glimpses of Dolphy, another who we mostly have to rely on blurred video footage to see these days.

Louis Armstrong climaxes the film with some loose, spirited playing with his all-stars, capped by a lovely duet with Jack Teagarden on their showcase piece, "Rockin' Chair". They're caught in another tight closeup that sees them going in and out of focus depending on who's singing, with the immense affection these two men felt for each other radiating from every frame.

Ryan Watches A Motion Picture #18: The End of the Line (2009)

Concerned about the sea? Concerned about sea life? It would be useful if you were, because by 2048 the world's oceans could be barren. Yippee skippy!

The End of the Line is a documentary based on the book of the same name, written by UK journalist Charles Clover, which highlights the reasons why our fish stocks are plummeting - overfishing, bottom-trawling, and a lack of substantial national reservations. Essentially, countries are doing little to regulate their fishing industries, and the industry's practice is, well, as you'd see in the film, horrific. The film takes you into the great cod crash in Newfoundland, to the tuna traps of the Mediterranean, and to Japan's Mitsubishi corporation, which is buying up the dwindling blue fin tuna catch so that they can freeze it, store it away, wait for the species to go extinct, and name their price.

The documentary should have presented viewers with a much more concrete outline of strategies and resources so that consumers can do what they can. But what is there is something, and should point one in the right direction. More information can be found at the film's website.

So: Check it out! Do you what you can! You'll be filled with a righteous anger that can only be described with a rrrraAAAAAAARRRRRRGEHJGLklshkajbhJK.HK.hd&isy78EBD!!

Wendy's Films of 2010 #52: Know Your Mushrooms (2008)

It seems that after hitting 50 films my brain decided, "You don't neeeed to write reviews, just leave them for a while!" And so it has been nine days since I've written one, and due to my love of watching whole television series I have sadly watched fewer films than anticipated.

So! On to Know Your Mushrooms, a documentary I picked up because I thought it would enlighten me on the subject of magic mushrooms, and because I think mushrooms are delicious.

It ended up being slightly boring, but quite informative, as several documentaries are. In this film we delve into the world of mushroom lovers and those who seek out the mighty mushroom as a way of experiencing the grand cathedral of nature in a sublimely psychedelic fashion. It has cute animations, a trip to the Telluride Mushroom Festival and an interesting interview with Larry Evans. And though it could have been a little more interesting or crazy, it was saved by the use of music by the Flaming Lips and The Sadies, which added a little magic to this mushroom escapade.

Wendy's Films of 2010 #47: 9to5: Days in Porn (2008)

I thought Days in Porn would at least be entertaining. I was wrong. Some parts are interesting, but it's mostly just tedious and repetitive. I especially don't recommend watching this with anyone who finds hardcore porn offensive. Not that I did, but I wasn't exactly expecting to see full-on sex so often, so don't think this is one to watch with mom. The documentary tracks the lives of several people who work in the porn industry, from managers to filmmakers to the actors themselves. I thought that it would be amusing to see how these people lived their lives, or what it's like to work in an industry that is so widely considered indecent. Unfortunately, the film was actually pretty boring at times. Some people were interesting, like the cheery pornstar who stars in her boyfriend's films, or the girl who just wants to make the craziest stuff out there. But these parts are sadly far and few between, making most of the film unenjoyable and awkward.

Wendy's Films of 2010 #44: The September Issue (2009)

Fashion never used to interest me. Even today I'm not exactly a fussy dresser; a pair of jeans, a sweater and a tank top and I'm pretty much out of the house. That doesn't mean I don't think it's beautiful though, which is why The September Issue interested me as much as it did. The film's superficial purpose is to show the effort that goes into making the year's most important issue of Vogue, but to me it also seems like a sort of plea for fashion and an attempt to glimpse at the minds who conceive of what the world should wear. I may not agree with everything fashion goddess and Anna Wintour (editor of Vogue) thinks, like her love of furs, but her incredible decisiveness and strong opinions are quite compelling and make her interesting to watch. For those who, like me, have no idea who Anna Wintour because they know little about the fashion industry, she is the real life woman that Meryl Streep's character in The Devil Wears Prada is based on. Her opinion can decide what a major designer decides to show the world. To me, one of the most interesting parts was when Wintour talks about what her siblings think of her job, and later what her daughter has to say about wanting to do something more with her life.

Pose Reviews A Movie. #1: Helvetica (2007)

When Gary Hustwit’s documentary, Helvetica was released in 2007, I had the same reaction as a lot of other people: “So wait...how do you make a movie about a font?” I could see it easily as a book, since Lynne Truss’ Eats, Shoots and Leaves made the subject of English grammar sexy enough to launch her book to #1 on the New York Times Bestseller list back in 2006, but a movie? About a font? I figured the film was either a hoax or just incredibly boring.

But I was wrong.

So how is it that Gary Hustwit can use his directorial debut to make a movie about a font? Simple. He didn’t make the movie about the font.

Helvetica is a genuinely fascinating look at the entire world of graphic design. It uses interviews from successful graphic designers, as well as seemingly endless shots of pamphlets, billboards and shopping bags typed in Helvetica font, to demonstrate that the average consumer is completely unaware of the impact which typeface has on their absorption of information. It’s the ultimate example of that old phrase, “it’s not what you say, but how you say it.” And believe me, it says a lot.

One of the most interesting things about Helvetica is that it not only explains a great deal about its namesake’s role in graphic design, but also why it has never occurred to most people to question its use. Designers don’t want fonts attracting any attention at all--if the reader pays more attention to the typeface of the letters and words, and less attention to the content they convey, then all is lost. But Helvetica takes this rule and flips it on its head--now the conveyance of the content is the content, and in eighty minutes, you will learn more about how you see the world than you ever thought a movie about font could teach you.

Finally, one of the best parts of Helvetica is, believe it or not, its soundtrack. I thought this was particularly important to mention since soundtrack is the cinematic equivalent of typeface. Its job is to highlight what’s being said without detracting from it, and to invisibly enhance the audience’s consumption of the content without being consumed itself. The ambient post-rock of Helvetica serves its purpose extremely well, and it implicitly reflects the message of the film without being noticeable until the very end. (It also gave me a band to look into--they’re called El Ten Eleven, and I must say, they’re pretty good.)

All in all, Helvetica comes with my glowing recommendation, in any font. You can find it in the Documentaries section, or perhaps even on my Staff Picks shelf.

Wendy's Films of 2010 #36: Good Hair (2009)

Chris Rock's documentary on what exactly "good hair" means to African-Americans sheds light on the incredible amount of effort, time and money put into creating a certain self-image. I never knew a weave cost upwards of $1000, or that many put dangerous chemicals into their hair to straighten it. It all began when Rock's young daughter asked her dad why she didn't have "good hair" - a question that made him wonder what that meant, and why such lengths are gone to achieve a particular image.

From the salons of Harlem to the temples of India, Rock travels far and wide to find answers and makes the purpose of his journey to inform the world of his discoveries. It's this element - the fact that Rock is discovering these details and not just expounding them - that makes the documentary so interesting. It feels like an adventure on a subject I never even thought to explore. I must admit I was shocked at his findings, and love the overall message he wishes to send: what matters is what's in the head, not on it.

Ryan Watches a Motion Picture #4: The Adventure of English (2003)

It's a fascinating miniseries on the birth of the English language and its growth in time to be the global language it is today. It proves to be a detailed and stirring look at the historical forces that shaped the language and nudged it into certain patterns and dialects, and should scratch the documentary itch of any English student or lover of the word, the line, the way.

It goes over the reasons why we spell words in certain ways, how certain words have shifted meaning, and which words from our vast word-horde were trickled in from different languages as their respective nationalities clashed. How the English artists, Shakespeare among them, changed the language through their work and how they brought status to the English language abroad.

It gets a little overzealous, I think, whenever it posits that English is a particularly robust, naturally selected, or adaptable and absorbing language, since I'd guess that its spread and knack for assimilating foreign words and grammars has more to do with imperialist and economic forces rather than any kind of naturally selected flexibility, but the series does manage to admit as much near the end of the series.

So: The historical rundown it presents is compelling without need of cheesy re-enactment, and should keep you fascinated every step of the way.

*Not actually part of the documentary, but informative nonetheless.

Mike The Boss - Films of 2010 - Film the Ninth: Not Quite Hollywood

Not Quite Hollywood (2008) (dir: Mark Hartley)

A quick and fun documentary about Australian exploitation films from the 70s and 80s. Lots of fun clips of nudity, cheap gore effects, ridiculous stunts that probably never should have been done (and would not be allowed today) and lots of talking heads describing what it was like to be making films back then. Quentin Tarantino pushed for this project to get funding and he is one of those talking heads describing how he felt when he discovered Ozploitation and his admiration for the art form.

This is an enjoyable bit of film history but I can't help thinking that it would have been nice if Canada had experienced the same kind of renaissance of trash as Australia did as the same time. It seems to me that we took ourselves too seriously and as a result we have a rather tepid art house film industry and not much else in Canada. Australia is still putting out far superior product both of the art house and exploitation variety. So while getting educated on Ozploitation, I still felt a little morose that such a thing did not happen here.

Gen X has a decent collection of the films featured in this documentary so if you are interested in seeing some of the movies, let us know which ones and we'll point you in the right direction.