Quick Review: “Mary and Max”

This week is kind of interesting because for the first time, someone in the contest took advantage of a little-known rule, wherein you can substitute your turn of picking a new movie that no one’s seen, by picking one that only you’ve seen (thus forcing everyone to watch something you like). You can only do this once, and it’s a lot of fun (I’m still not sure what I’m gonna pick for mine).

For this go around, the movie picked was the 2009 Australian claymation piece Mary and Max, a quirky tale loosely based on a true story of a middle-aged New York man with Asperger Syndrome and a girl from Australia becoming pen pals. When it was released, it won a bunch of independent film awards and it generally gained an underground following of sorts, and it’s not too terribly difficult to see why. It takes a well known theme and plays it through a dark comedy noir that’s also a serious claymation drama. Ahem.

Is it effective at this? Well, yes and no. There are aspects of the film that really shine, and aspects that don’t. As I mentioned before, its more noir elements are really pulled off very well. Everything in Australia is sepia-toned with a tinge of color, and everything in New York is in black and white, and when the two intersect, these color palettes remain constant. It’s actually an effect that deserves more credit than I’d otherwise give it. The voice acting is also really surprisingly good, with Phillip Seymour Hoffman playing a 40yr old Jewish man with Asperger’s. Honestly I forgot that it was him until the end credits rolled, which is a sure sign that he did a good job.

In general, though, I think this film will really resonate with some folks, and not with others. The movie’s theme is really apparent right from the get go, and it never deviates from its sermon. Life isn’t easy for everyone, sometimes it’s hard to fit in, we get to choose our friends and friendship is the meaning of life. Were you ever teased as a kid? Do you have a hard time understanding people sometimes? Of course literally everyone can answer yes to this, but to what degree that still affects you will shade your interest in this film. Maybe it didn’t resonate with me because, to a point, I’ve seen this done thematically in a bunch in movies, and it’s the kind of universal moral we see in a lot of family flicks. Of course, I tend to like this moral when presented in genres and styles I tend to be more interested in. This movie in particular seems to be going for the style of 90’s Tim Burton, which I guess isn’t altogether a bad thing, but for the most part when you stop paying attention to the narrative, it all feels a little forced. Let’s see how quirky we can make this. It’s carried out in a way that I’d say is most comparable to youth literature. It’s kind of like reading Roald Dahl (kind of), which in this case intentionally conflicts with the dark humor (and dark otherwise) nature of the film. In short, it aims to be very cute while juxtaposing serious character drama. To this end, this is not a style that I altogether find compelling, but that’s kind of, you know, personal taste.

Still, it’s charming and endearing, and if you’re not sitting there thinking “ok, I know what this film is doing”, then you’ll more than likely enjoy it. Again, it’s a universal theme, and the characters are strong and the writing is capable of achieving this theme. The correspondence device used to tell the narrative is really great, if not drawn out (really it’s a device that I think works a lot better in short films/stories, but hey, there was a lot of material here I guess). Overall, you know, it was fine, just didn’t really resonate with me.

Final Grade: B-

Quick Review: “The Passion of Anna”

I decided to keep my hot streak going this week by picking another guaranteed lock: Ingmar Bergman’s The Passion of Anna (En passion.) So, obviously it’s really great, but, why?

The story focuses on four main characters, none of whom are especially relatable, following their interconnected relationships over the course of a season and delving into their personal histories. In classic late-sixties Bergman fashion, the main draw to the film is the showcase of intimate storytelling. There’s always been something hypnotic about the way Bergman features his main characters telling stories to the audience, and Passion is as good an example of this as anything else. Following the intricate lives of these four flawed individuals is highly engrossing and ultimately rewarding.

One bit that’s a tad divisive, is the tool he uses to break up the narrative. Inter-cut at different points in the film are interviews with the four lead actors describing how they interpret the characters they’re playing. Risky, right? I thought it worked surprisingly well–not only at breaking up the narrative–but giving some outside insight into the motivation behind the characters themselves. Bergman later admitted he did not think that this was done successfully, and even regretted using the technique. So, I guess it’s not for everyone, but personally I enjoyed it.

Naturally the directing achieves setting a quiet, understated tone to the film that colors everything in a light that’s both intimate and real, and it’s easy to feel involved in the characters’ world. The story itself is layered with personal introspection and universal truths about human nature, which I guess in this instance I think is more of a bonus than anything (even though it’s actually the backbone of the film). So, if you, you know, like Bergman, and you should, then you’ll like this.

Final grade: A

Quick Reviews: “Reincarnated” (2013), & “Upstream Color”

I want to try to get back into the habit about actually writing about the things I’ve watched for this ill-conceived film club, which is–beyond all natural reason–still going strong.  And I’ll be honest, a large reason for why I haven’t been too eager to keep up with it (aside from a lot of the movies being largely too uninteresting to even write about) is that I’ve been completely torn asunder by the ongoing debate on whether or not one should space twice after ending a sentence. Sure it’s not even a grammar issue, but I feel any debate that people have on the internet is too important to ignore and the best course of action is to completely shut down until everything blows over.

I think we all know which side who is on.

Apparently, though, these things tend to go on indefinitely (this debate in particular is nearing 7 decades), so I might as well bide my time by succumbing to guilt (one of my favorite pastimes) and continuing my regular reviews.

Reincarnated is a companion documentary to the 2013 Snoop Lion album of the same name. As unfortunately (but unsurprisingly) you’d be tasked to review just the movie and neither Snoop nor the album in the process, you’d be left saying “well, this isn’t really a documentary, though.” And you’d say this because it plays out much more like a bonus featurette on a DVD than a movie about anything solid enough to seem tangible. The way I put it in perspective after watching it, was that back in like, 2006, The Decemberists released a live concert DVD from one of their shows. On the DVD was an hour-long behind the scenes making of their most recent album at the time. And it was really interesting (if you’re a Decemberists fan). But I’d never, you know, call it a documentary film.

With Reincarnated, mostly it’s just a magazine editor along for a vacation in Jamaica while Snoop records his new album. Which is, you know, a lot of fun if you’re a Snoop fan, but it doesn’t extend much beyond that. There’s maybe 40% of it that’s independently interesting; personal interviews with Snoop about his past are compelling enough, but at the end of the day it just seems like a guy with a camera who’s happy to be along for the ride. In an effort to further convince the wider public that this is indeed a movie in the same way that The Thin Blue Line is, they released it theatrically in minimal release. So, you know, I’ll letter-grade it and all (but only because that’s my style).

Final grade: C.

Upstream Color on the other hand, is very much a movie (almost too much of one, some would argue). It’s the second film from upstart independent director Shane Carruth, most famous for his only other film, the 2004 concept sci-fi Primer. Much like Primer, it immediately gained an underground following and notoriety for its bold and careless style accompanied by a purposely hard to follow narrative. In Primer, the confusing structure is explained as intentional and meant to force the audience to feel as disoriented as the main characters who are traveling through time. It’s–for better or worse–effective at what it sets out to do. In Upstream, you get a lot of that same style, a bit more professionally pulled off, but also used as a device to force the audience to feel to some degree the same as the main characters. I guess it’s kind of his thing. And about 80% of the time it’s spot-on, which is nice. Upstream tends to work better, though, because it’s much more ethereal a concept, and overall more relatable than the engineering Rube Goldberg device that is Primer. It’s also much more human, and surprisingly deep.

Where Primer is a dialogue-driven exploration on the consequences of, well, essentially breaking the law, Upstream is more of an art piece. There’s much less an emphasis on dialogue, and is more of a visual experience; it becomes a study, really, on a specific event. It’s nothing if not original, even if it comes off as pretentious for a portion of it (how can it not?), and does the same job that Primer does of intentionally frustrating its audience.

Overall, though, it’s still refreshing and will generate much discussion and analysis. And while it probably deserves multiple watch-throughs, the idea on its own is praise worthy and also worthwhile to watch.

Final grade: B+

OK, well, I guess that’s all for now. The next pick for the club will be mine, and I’ve already chosen The Passion of Anna. So, good luck everybody else.

I dunno, I mean, some folks would call this gentleman a pretty capable director.