Knuckle

Knuckle

Today’s films have a habit of taking a successful concept and repeating it until it does not work. Following this model, let’s make a film. Take the feuding families of Romeo and Juliet and match them with the characters in The Fighter. Here we have two traditional rivals solving family issues with good old fashioned bare-knuckle fist fighting. Now follow these families for twelve years and turn into a documentary. Perhaps the idea of making a documentary that relies on such bombastic characters would be impossible to produce. This is why audiences were amazed when such a fictional sounding experience was shown to be a reality in Ian Palmer’s Knuckle. 

Knuckle follows the lives of the feuding Quinn McDonaghs and Joyces as they attempt to solve an on-going family issue by bare-knuckle fighting each other. The concept started when Ian Palmer filmed the wedding of Michael Quinn McDonaghs in 1997 and he learned of this physical confrontation between the two families, who happen to be cousins. The families themselves had already been documenting and promoting these fights years before Palmer appeared. The two families video tape the fights to show their family members who can’t attend and even create homemade tapes antagonizing the other clan into a fight. The issue that started this long-lasting violence was from a family wedding fight that lead to one of the Joyces being killed and a Quinn McDonagh in jail for manslaughter.

Palmer does not address the catalyst for the feud until much later in the film. By having this information start the film the audience would immediately form an antagonistic opinion over the McDonaghs. Palmer actually focuses the storyline around the McDonaghs to avoid this. The film is not about who is right or wrong. The purpose of Knuckle is to capture this foreign way of solving family disputes. The fights themselves are largely graphic which I found intriguing because they were real. With modern society being desensitized by gratuitous violence in film and television it felt somewhat humbling to encounter true violence. The fights had no flow or structure. Some were fairly clean while others were chaotic. Yet, each fight was undoubtedly raw. This sentiment is aided by the fact that Palmer used a run of the mill camcorder to capture these fights.

As the film progresses it becomes more and more clear that the families don’t continue to fight for their original purpose. After a while it becomes more of a sport than it does a way of an means to an end. Referees from neutral clans are brought in to referee the fights and set rules are formed to insure a clean fight. The clans celebrate each victory and become fueled by each defeat. They no longer look at their fighters and family members but as sports stars. Personalized t-shirts are worn and legends are told. Which results in families fighting just to state they have the best fighter. The most odd aspect of these fights are the monetary prizes. For an event that was created to solve an issue it is strange that a cash reward arose. The head of the McDonagh clan stated that the reason why money came to play was because he retired from fighting and the only way the Joyces could get him to fight was to pay him. It is baffling that after so many years of trying to get from point A to point B that these families have yet to realize that they have been off the trail for nearly a decade.

The most interesting aspect of the film is that it spans for over a decade. Progress is expected to be made as the initial instigators die off and a new generation blossoms. However, as generations develop they cycle the habits of their fathers. Near the end of the film we see Michael Quinn McDonagh go from being a scrawny, optimistic newlywed into a steroid fueled monster that now acts as the brash patriarch of the Quinn McDonaghs. Specific players are shown to be true instigators, such as Big Joe Joyce, the Joyce’s patriarch who schedules all of his clan’s fights. Palmer, who also narrates the film, calls special attention to Big Joe Joyce after Big Joe, who is in the late sixties, fights a grandfather from another clan. Noting this fight as just a way for an old man to search for past power, Palmer breaks his neutral demeanor to state how sickened he is by this action.

By capturing the concept of war and its creation on such a small scale, Palmer gives the audience the chance to experience a feud in its true and raw form. Even global disputes have some sort of catalyst and this documentary shows how one spark can cause a fire in an area that it didn’t even touch. The story of the McDonaghs and the Joyces is a unique reflection of how humans will subconsciously take what they desire from a situation. While the characters are not very redeemable, Knuckle provides an important study that captivated audiences. Many left the film intrigued yet apathetic to the future of these families. Hopefully with the expansion of this film less people will view it for the predicament of two clans and start analyzing the universal issue at hand. Knuckle shows us that no matter who started the fire, it is always in the best interest to put it out.

Title: Knuckle

Run Time: 94 minutes

Director: Ian Palmer

Production: Irish Film Board

Sales: Content Media Corporation

The Artist

The Artist

Three. Three people. If three more people would have left the line for The Skin I Live In, you would now be reading a review about transexual rapists. If three close friends didn’t get fed up standing in the eighty degree sun I would not have gotten out of line. I would not have wasted four Euro on an Orangina and I would not have accidentally found myself in line for the film that I had been fighting to avoid seeing the whole festival. I could have left France thinking that only pretentious, bizarre, or graphic films made it into Cannes. Luckily, Kevin found therapy, Melancholia missed the Earth, and I saw The Artist.

To create a silent film in the twenty-first century about the transition of a silent film actor into sound film is the equivalent of Penelope Cruz getting in vitro to play Octo-mom. Hell, after the success of The Artist maybe she should. This film is a true gem and no amounts unjustly given golden leaf awards can make that statement any less true. Through its mimic cinematography, brilliant acting, and expressive soundtrack, The Artist, directed by Michel Hazanavicius, accurately captures the essence of late 1920’s entertainment. As it represents a time when captivating the audience was the first priority, The Artist recreates this former tradition for modern audiences.

To mimic: to imitate or copy in action, speech, etc., often playfully or derisively. Sneak your iPhone into the theater and pull up a clip from The General, now look up at The Artist; seem similar? Of course it does. From soft focus lenses to perfectly framed close-ups, 1920s films directly mirror the studio system industry depicted in The Artist. The black and white setting leaves a viewer’s eyes to fixate on the grand structures of 1920’s Hollywood. The setting is representative of the affluent lifestyles of the characters in the film.

Before touching on acting, let it be stated that Jean Dujardin’s portrayal of George Valentin, the protagonist of The Artist, received a Palm D’Or for Best Actor. It was truly refreshing to see that fake breasts and a permanent frown was not the syllabus to win this prestigious award. The actors in this film bring more to the table than just portraying a human being. Silent film actors had to be much more physically expressive to tell a story due to their lack of spoken word. Jean Dujardin and Berenice Bejo, who portrayed the film’s female protagonist, Peppy Miller,  had to invest into the talents of their characters by learning how to dance to the level of such greats as Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. Their diverse performance skills are not only impressive but inspiring. I say this hoping that in future years we don’t find out that the dancing in this film was another Milli Vanilli-like Black Swan moment.

With the actors being the real meat and potatoes of the film, their like-ability is of upmost importance for the film to be well received. Luckily for The Artist, the film’s two protagonists are overwhelmingly charming. From his folksy-dancing, consistent smile, and seductive facial gestures George Valentin hams his way into the hearts of the audience. The compassion felt for Valentin during his height of fame magnifies the viewer’s empathy for him as he falls from grace. This depressing event results in a great amount of depth in the character of George Valentin who goes from being charming to the point of being un-relatable to becoming an average human down on his luck. Dujardin handles this transition with great precision, giving an enormous amount of depth into an ex-Hollywood-ham.

Valentin’s failing career is interestingly opposed by Peppy Miller rising from an unknown extra the first “it-girl” of Hollywood sound. The constant opposition in storyline for these two characters creates a mix of emotions for the viewer who can’t decide whether or not to be happy for Peppy or resent her fellow newcomers who broke the lovable George. It is a strange experience to be introduced to the moral face of success fail. George’s tale is very hard to watch which could be the reason for the B-story of Peppy’s success. The differing lives of two characters give a constant diversity that keeps a steady pace throughout the film making the hour and a half fly by quickly.

If you find yourself hesitant to invest the eight dollars to see The Artist in theaters, stop being ignorant and watch the movie; it is an experience. Subtracting the distractions of seizure inducing lights, constant explosions, and blank expressions leaves raw quality. This film, just like the lost treasures of the last silents, is true unrelenting entertainment that any free thinking human can not resist. The act of being engulfed into a black and white film with no sound is a foreign opportunity that can not be supplied by today’s flooded market of over-produced films.

The Artist is the true basis of what a good film should be. Instead of relying on the over-produced tools of blockbuster films, The Artist rises above these unnecessary insurances and fortifies the important elements of good storytelling. The soundtrack of the film is even utilized to have a constant flow while still exemplifying the emotions of the characters in the film. The formula of combining great actors, compelling characters, unique style, and an interesting storyline appears to be simple enough, which is why it is a mystery that more films like The Artist have yet to appear. I am grateful for the lucky happenstance that lead me into The Artist. I also find it truly ironic that my words on this film outlast the actual words in the film.

Title: The Artist 

Run Time: 100 minutes

Director: Michel Hazanvicius

Actors: Jean Dujardin, Berenice Bejo, John Goodman, James Cromwell

Production: uFilm

Sales: Warner Bros. (France)

The Weinstein Company (USA)

Tatsumi

Tatsumi

I along with many of the people attending no longer look at art as an expression of the artist. Instead we tend to fixate our minds into thinking that the artist is some sort of industrial producer and his or her’s art is just a tangible product to consume and throw away. The correlation between the artist and their work diminishes somehow either from ad campaigns, stars, or personal fixations of what people derive from the film and not what is intended by the artist. Tatsumi gives the viewer the rare and important chance to directly connect an artist with his work.

Tatsumi is the passion project of Cannes-veteran Eric Khoo. Khoo decided to make this film as a tribute and birthday gift to Yoshihiro Tatsumi, a world renown Japanese manga artist who flourished in the genre of gekika manga, which he coined the term for in 1957. Khoo has created an original look into the life of Tatsumi by making a film in which Tatsumi’s life coincides with his work. Tatsumi utilizes a unique and refreshing format in which Khoo tells the history of Yoshihiro Tatsumi. The film is told in episodes of interchanging excerpts of Tatsumi’s autobiography A Drifting Life and animated versions of some of Tatsumi’s most famous gekikas.

Tatsumi as an artist directly expresses his life through his work which allows a film format like this to thrive. Both the gekikas and the historical excerpts of Tatsumi’s life are animated in the same style. This art choice helps the viewer to absorb the stories created by Tatsumi and the stories that created Tatsumi on the same level. Usually animation forms a wall between reality and fiction. Tatsumi works as a bridge between these two worlds in a way that hasn’t been seen before.

Most artists draw their inspirations from their own lives. However, since we don’t know more about an artists life more than the basic 60 Minutes interview or tabloid report we never spend the time to link the start and end of a piece of art. Tatsumi’s link between the gekika and the historical event backing it forms one giant work of art of Yoshihiro Tatsumi. The most notable story told in Tatsumi is of Tatsumi’s struggle to find an audience. During his initial rise to fame Tatsumi, as most original artists, found that it was difficult to group his work with the other differing forms of manga. This division of apples and oranges eventually lead to the creation of the sub-genre gekika. The gekika shared of that was inspired by this was about a children’s cartoonist that had been fired after losing his audience. The artist becomes consumed by pornographic drawings on the wall of a certain bathroom stall. Everything goes into a downward spiral until a pornographic magazine hires the artist to draw for adults. This surge of inspiration leads the artist to draw his first comic on the wall of the bathroom stall only for a woman to walk in on him and get him arrested for being a pervert. This dilemma of being your own artist and being the peoples’ artist is a problem still prevalent in today’s film industry. Directors now make their passion projects, become popular for said work, and are thrown away when they try to progress from their past. Tatsumi’s story is presented to display the toxicity of following your passion and the strength one needs to overcome it.

At first, the animation in Tatsumi was upstaged by the moving content supplied by Tatsumi and Khoo. With the ages of Miyazaki and Pixar it is hard to watch a moving piece of art without taking the animation process for granted. While each scene was visually stunning since the content wasn’t an over the top fantasy the animation itself was more realistic and gritty which the modern viewer is not always looking to see. However, near the end of the film Khoo creates a montage in which the final scene depicting the cartoon Tatsumi is developed in steps which switches to Tatsumi drawing the from start to end. To be able to see the process of creation from the hands of Yoshihiro Tatsumi not only was a treat but a true honor and would be enough reason for anyone to see this film.

The relationship between a man and his art has yet to be captured in such a unique fashion. The reception of the film mirrors to progression of Tatsumi’s life. At first the film drudges along slowly however it improves in a constant upward motion. Tatsumi’s value mirrors the artists progression in his work; the film improves as he improves. The beauty of films that capture an experience is that they are relative to a large audience. Life and work are a journey that every person will eventually have to fight through which creates a truly relatable film in Tatsumi. In a world full of remakes and sequels of remakes I only hope that Tatsumi will bring forth a new air of originality in art and life.

Title: Tatsumi

Run Time: 94 minutes

Director: Eric Khoo

Production: Zhao Wei Films

Sales: The Match Factory

Toomelah

Toomelah

Over the past week, the Australian film Toomelah has been the subject of much inquiry at the Cannes Film Festival. The film entered the festival with a description that sounded to be the next great Scorsese film mixed with great excitement since it was written, directed, composed, and shot all by Ivan Sen. Sen has been gaining notoriety in the film industry since his debut feature film Beneath Clouds premiered in 2002 and his 2005 documentary Yellow Fella  made Cannes’ Un Certain Regard. This year Sen is back in Un Certain Regard with Toomelah however this film does not seem to hit the mark of its predecessors.

Keeping with Ivan Sen’s Australian roots Toomelah tells the story of a delinquent child Daniel (Daniel Connors) living in Toomelah, a poverty stricken outpost in Australia. Daniel rarely attends school and instead starts spending his time with the town drug dealer Linden (Christopher Edwards). From this meeting on, the story flatlines into an hour of nothing but Daniel riding in the car with Linden and the town of substance abusers telling Daniel he should stay clean until Bruce (Dean Daley-Jones) is introduced. Bruce has recently come back from jail and is taking back his reign as top drug dealer in Toomelah. From here on, Daniel must decide his place as a child in a world full of adult criminals.

While Sen affectively portrays an impoverished outpost in Australia he negates from telling an effective story. The setting in Toomelah is the truest thing about the film. It was interesting for Sen to show the division of necessities and wants in the town. These citizens are living in dilapidated building with barely any food however they still sit around to play violent video games and drive around Japanese sports cars. In spite of the realistic environment which almost portrays the film message in itself, the other aspects of Toomelah fall short.

The acting, or lack thereof, in Toomelah is reminiscent of a documentary. All of the characters feel more like locals that they grabbed off of the street and put in their film. While this gives a realistic portrayal it does not give a compassionate one. There is a reason why professional actors are hired on to films. Their role is to portray a character in a way that will either captivate audiences or effectively express the character within the film. The actors in Toomelah did neither of these things. All of the actors in the film honestly looked bored the entire time and that sentiment filtered through the audience (who went from being a pack 75 seats to a barren 13 people at the end). The only actors found to have any talent were the young Daniel Connors and the brooding Dean Daley-Jones. Unfortunately Connors is mostly seen glaring at his surroundings and Jones’ character also is seen more than he is heard. The rest of the film were filled with actors who had terrible pacing, static line delivery, and an excessive need to look at the camera during scenes.

It is surprising that the cinematography in Toomelah came from such a budding filmmaker. Sen’s style is reminiscent of his last work as a documentarian. The camera comes into focus randomly during scenes which is distracting for viewers. Also, the movement of large group scenes all have a racked focus on the group as to hope to catch someone doing something important because of uncertainties of what will actually happen. These things would not be such a nuisance if the film was an actual documentary but it is unnecessary when the director knows what he should be capturing in the scene and the audience misses it in this huge cluster of nothingness.

The most detrimental aspect, which could be the fault of the Cannes Film Festival, of Toomelah was the lack of subtitles. The thick Australian Aborigines accents mixed with a cast of actors who were either slurring their words or whispering them lead to a completely incomprehensible film. Many viewers left the theatre twenty minutes into the film due to this. While it is obvious that Sen set out to create a film about the lives of the poverty stricken in Australia and depict one child’s allure to the current rockstar drug dealers it is surprising that he chose to do so in a written narrative. His “day in the life” style displays itself as an ineffective copy cat to the documentaries already made about the area. The amateur acting and cinematography leaves the audience wishing that is was a documentary in order to forgive these mistakes and to also find more redemption in the story knowing that is a real one. This leap for Ivan Sen was a poor one. There are several mementoes throughout the film that scream that Sen had spread himself too thing. One notable one is that the whole film is soundtracked by three Akon songs which made the audience feel as if they were watching an Australian Jersey Shore. Here is to hoping that Sen with take a page from the Freudian slips throughout Toomelah and go back into documentaries.

Title: Toomelah

Run Time: 106 minutes

Director: Ivan Sen

Cast: Daniel Connors, Christopher Edwards, Dean Daley-Jones, Michael Connors, Danieka Connors

Production: Bunya Productions., Screen Australia

Sales: Visit Films

Midnight in Paris

Midnight in Paris

            The anticipated but disappointing Midnight in Paris joined the ranks of the current trend of lackluster Woody Allen films. The film follows the couple Gil (Owen Wilson) and Inez (Rachel McAdams) while they spend time in France for business. One night in Paris, Gil gets in a car and finds himself in a 1920’s Paris. This introduces Gil to a setting full of inspirational trendsetters of the 1920’s such as Ernest Hemingway, Pablo Picasso, and even Salvador Dali. Gil falls in love with not only the time period but also Muse Adriana (Marion Cottiard) who works her way through every famous man of the time. During the day Gil is sent back to the present to deal with his loveless relationship with an ignorant spouse who is more interested in the pretentious Paul (Michael Sheen) than she is with her own fiancee. Gil escapes every night to the 1920’s to get inspiration for his new novel and spend more time with Muse Adriana while he has to decide whether or not he wants to live in his own time or the one he has grown to admire.

            While the idea of a 21st century film writer interacting with a cesspool of artists that actually existed appears to be a strong plot device Allen’s use of it comes out to be nothing more than a cheap gimmick. Woody Allen name drops in Midnight in Paris more than a desperate actor at the Cannes Film Festival. While figures like Ernest Hemingway and M. Fitzgerald are well developed as functional characters into the plot others do not. Allen placed over ten famous figures in the script that didn’t serve any purpose to the story. The gratuitous characters left the audience playing catch up throughout the film. Instead of developing the characters and giving them humorous dialogue Allen left the audience dry while they watched several competent actors play dress up for an hour and a half.

            A Midnight in Paris had a very impressive ensemble of actors at their disposal. The true shame being that Allen did dispose of them. Allen creates the same films with different actors doing their best Woody Allen impression as the protagonist. Yet, somehow the one and only voice Owen Wilson does in film separated his character from the average Woody Allen character making him seem more ambitious than whiny. Rachel McAdams gave the best performance an actor could at the useless part she was given. Her character had no reason to be in the actual film. Allen’s consistency of having the protagonist be with an unredeemable fiance is novice and should stop immediately. It makes no sense that a charming and witty man would devote several years of his life to someone who lacks any form of chemistry with them. The only redeeming factor of Inez is that she is good looking and while that is enough for some it creates no form of compassion or tension towards the protagonist’s inevitable decision to leave her. On top of that the other woman he has on his mind in the 21st century, A French antique clerk (Carla Bruni)  who has no real connection to Gil other than selling records he enjoys and enduring rain storms in Paris. Another waste of great talent is Adrien Brody’s portrayal of Salvador Dali. Allen’s depiction of Dali is nothing more than him saying rhinoceros a hundred times leaving the audience awkwardly laughing as if they were watching a child say the same joke at a school talent show.

            The film aesthetics of Midnight in Paris are gorgeous. The use of the city of Paris in both the past and present leaves the audience captivated with the city. Unfortunately, this just creates an hour and a half long tourism commercial for Paris. The shots are soft and appealing which coincide with the absence of any harsh lighting in the film. Many of the scenes are reminiscent of expressionist works, even shooting some scenes at the places of inspiration of famous French paintings. However, if the viewer wants to see paintings move for an extended period of time it would be better to just run through a museum.

            As the creative mind behind Midnight in Paris, Woody Allen disappointed and even insulted his audience and their intelligence. While it is not fair to judge an artist by his past works it is also unjust to accept his faults due to past successes. There was nothing original or creative about Midnight in Paris. The film’s lack of creativity lead to a bland portrayal of a man coming to a decision between the life he lives and the one he wished he did. Just in case the audience wasn’t intelligent enough to pick up the film’s theme or find their own conclusion, Allen goes on to have a ten minute monologue in which Gil explains the moral of the story. In all sincerity the story was so elementary it’s improbable anyone over the film’s PG-13 rating could not figure out the film’s moral.

            Allen is on a continuous strike of creating underwhelming films. His well known past of utilizing avant garde comedic tools to attract audiences have diminished. However, audiences still flock to these films with high hopes that they are about to feast their eyes on the next Annie Hall but that day may never come. The two strengths of this film are the actors and the city of Paris but actors are useless without a competent script and the beauty of Paris leaves this film to be nothing more than an over produced spectacle. Perhaps because Allen relies on the funding of the cities themselves in order to make his films he distracts from the actual goal of making a great story. Nevertheless, people will go and cities will welcome Woody Allen with welcome arms but hopefully Morning in London or Afternoon in Rome will bring more to the table than Afternoon in Paris.

Title: Midnight in Paris

Run Time: 100 min

Director: Woody Allen

Main Actors: Owen Wilson, Rachel McAdams, Marion Cottiard, Carla Bruni, and Michael Sheen

Distributor: Sony Pictures Entertainment