Shirley Clarke (USA, 1967)
A disarming man smartly dressed with thick black-rimmed glasses talks about his life. That is it. Portrait of Jason defies common rules of moviemaking. But is setting up a camera and shooting a man for one evening art? Such doubts have been uttered repetitively. A snapshot is not photography, a few dots on canvass not a painting yet some artists annihilate these general conceptions elegantly. Sheryl Clarke proves to be one of them, having created finest Cinema Vérité on grainy black and white 16mm film stock.
Jason smokes, drinks and laughs. A lot. He has gone through life as hustler and house boy in San Francisco, a place ‘so creative’ that he has reinvented himself from Aaron Payne to Jason Holliday, dreaming of his own nightclub act, which he is always trying to finance yet never realises.
In the convivial atmosphere of a cosy apartment the presence of the camera is easily forgotten until it forcefully reinstates the fact that it dictates the gaze. The evening goes on and glass after glass is drank, reel after reel is changed and with this focus is lost and regained. The atmosphere changes, sadness creeps in. Uneasy thoughts of exploitation interrupt the films flow, when Jason bursts into tears, being pushed further and further by the of-screen voices of film-makers Shirley Clarke and Carl Lee, telling him ‘sit down’ or ‘shut up you’re full of shit.’
Radically executed, the film is highly engaging and comments on politics, homosexuality, gender and race issues. It challenges boundaries between fiction and documentary by placing a flamboyant man in its centre who is deeply occupied with the showbiz yet never quite part of it, telling detailed stories only to end them with “Well I never tell!” A man whose emotions change in a matter of seconds and whose performance of a Funny Girl song touches on brilliance.
Monday, 24 March 2008
Force of Evil
Abraham Polonsky (USA, 1948)
Dark shadows dominate the screen, constricting people to tiny spaces in the periphery. Men in hats with guns in their pockets roam back alleys and smoky back rooms, gangsters aiming to land the big coup that will either make or break them.
Abraham Polonsky’s 1948 film Force of Evil comes along as eerie mixture of film noir and melodrama in which the tempting cool blonde has been replaced by naked greed. In its centre is mob-lawyer Joe Morse (John Garfield) who has a plan to manipulate the number rackets, thereby driving little gambling joints into bankruptcy, resulting in a gambling monopole for his boss Ben Tucker (Roy Roberts). The only problem is, that Leo Morse (Thomas Gomez) run’s one of those little businesses and refuses to be saved by his brother. Joe’s loss of control consequently sends him on a cathartic yet painful journey paved with substantial collateral damage.
The film is laden with religious symbolism, most notably the references to Cain and Able, and the key betrayal centred on the date of the American Independence, for only on July 4th can the “number racket” be fixed for most people bet on 776 in honour of the independence-victory year 1776. It vehemently attacks America’s ruthless capitalism. All the praised values of faith, family have to falter under the weight of corruption carried by every single character. Not even innocence radiating secretary Doris (Beatrice Pearson) can withstand its seductive powers.
This expressionistic looking moral fable, based on the Ira Wolfert’s radical novel Tucker’s People tells a story of big time crime mirroring so-called “respectable” business, drawing a very dark picture of an America ruled by capitalism. Not a very welcome message at the time apparently, as both, director and star, were blacklisted in 1951 under Senator Joseph McCarthy.
Dark shadows dominate the screen, constricting people to tiny spaces in the periphery. Men in hats with guns in their pockets roam back alleys and smoky back rooms, gangsters aiming to land the big coup that will either make or break them.
Abraham Polonsky’s 1948 film Force of Evil comes along as eerie mixture of film noir and melodrama in which the tempting cool blonde has been replaced by naked greed. In its centre is mob-lawyer Joe Morse (John Garfield) who has a plan to manipulate the number rackets, thereby driving little gambling joints into bankruptcy, resulting in a gambling monopole for his boss Ben Tucker (Roy Roberts). The only problem is, that Leo Morse (Thomas Gomez) run’s one of those little businesses and refuses to be saved by his brother. Joe’s loss of control consequently sends him on a cathartic yet painful journey paved with substantial collateral damage.
The film is laden with religious symbolism, most notably the references to Cain and Able, and the key betrayal centred on the date of the American Independence, for only on July 4th can the “number racket” be fixed for most people bet on 776 in honour of the independence-victory year 1776. It vehemently attacks America’s ruthless capitalism. All the praised values of faith, family have to falter under the weight of corruption carried by every single character. Not even innocence radiating secretary Doris (Beatrice Pearson) can withstand its seductive powers.
This expressionistic looking moral fable, based on the Ira Wolfert’s radical novel Tucker’s People tells a story of big time crime mirroring so-called “respectable” business, drawing a very dark picture of an America ruled by capitalism. Not a very welcome message at the time apparently, as both, director and star, were blacklisted in 1951 under Senator Joseph McCarthy.
Monday, 10 March 2008
Movies focus on Rendition
A fabric bag is firmly pulled over the detainees face. He is tight down, his feet higher than his head. Water is poured over his face. A drowning simulation, designed to make him talk during his interrogation. Just a scene from a film?
So called “Water-boarding” is depicted in three recent films. Gavin Hood’s star studded Hollywood film Rendition, James Threapleton’s low budget, realist drama Extraordinary Rendition, and the very first episode of ITV’s new television drama The Whistleblowers. Threapleton’s stuntman, who is apparently used to drowning experiences (!) could not take the drowning simulation torture for more than a few seconds and refused to ever do it again. He could do that, for him it was indeed just a scene from a film. The background though, is much more serene. Something called Extraordinary Rendition has forced its way into the entertainment industry. This sensitive subject is explored and explained in the three very different films.
I was explained the meaning of this somewhat technical expression by James Threapleton when he presented his film at the international film festival in Locarno this summer. It was one of the disappointingly few highlights at last year’s festival edition, which was shamefully overlooked in the awards but made a lasting impression nonetheless. The film begins with the finding of a heavily wounded man in London. In back flashes we hear how Zaafir ended up there. The well integrated young college tutor gets abducted in town and finds himself facing interrogation and torture in a far away country. He spends horrifying weeks outside of any justice system available to him because he is suspected to be a terrorist.
Countries like the UK or the USA do not torture. It is forbidden by their constitution. Neither is it allowed to extradite people if it is likely that they will undergo torture in their home country. Surely these are laws that we should be proud to abide by. Unfortunately there is a way around them, which is Rendition. Terror suspects are flown out of the country in question and brought to a place that does use torture. This then can be termed collaboration of secret services. Of course this system is prone to heavy mistakes and the new films concentrate on these.
While Extraordinary Rendition focuses on the victim, Gavin Hood’s film focuses on the people and institutions surrounding it. The ice cold CIA agent, the troubled American witnessing the interrogation, the pregnant wife fighting for her disappeared husband, the young senatorial assistant who wants to help until his career is endangered, the leading interrogator and his run away daughter and her boyfriend who gets involved with militant Islamist groups. The film may be overloaded but its intentions are nonetheless the right ones.
It may be a streak of luck that all three films are very good. It’s a tightrope walk between informing and exploiting and all of them balance it well. Film has always been a good political medium and it has to be allowed to be taken seriously as such. The new wave of politically driven Hollywood films like Syriana, Good Night and Good Luck, Michael Clayton or Lambs for Lions have resuscitated the American mainstream. They are not radical films, they are glossy and entertaining and they have to be, they are, after all, Hollywood movies. But the tone has become more stern, the message clearer. The films have an opinion and they want to affect us emotionally. All three films assure us that these things actually happen. Everyday. There should be no accusations that this an in-topic and its depiction redundant. Even more there should be no accusations that this is not a suitable entertainment story. It is true Rendition moves dangerously close along the lines of a thriller and sometimes the viewing gets a bit uncomfortable, not because of what but because of the how certain storylines are depicted. But it does reach a very large audience. So do ITV’s Whistleblowers in which a man is held within England and a professional torturer is flown in. Three audiences are targeted at the same time. Should we not be glad that they are? Aren’t film and television legitimate platforms? Should we not be happy, that these films are made?
I think we should. For Extraordinary Rendition is a fact and is carried out by the countries we live in. People get literally kidnapped by the state, for once they are captured it does not get known where they are, their official status is ‘Missing’. Introduced by the Clinton administration in 1995 numbers of cases carried out have excessively increased in the ‘war on terror’. Between 1995 and 2001 Amnesty International recorded 5 known cases, since September 11th, 2001 the number has risen to 150. The dark figures are feared to be considerably higher. Slowly but surely the practice is being proven and known as more and more former prisoners are speaking out, like Maher Arar, a Canadian citizen who got arrested during a flight connection in America and brought to Syria. For him “Water Boarding” became reality, one that he could not stop after a few seconds.
If serious, well made films can increase attention given to these matters, then they should. Especially when George W Bush says in the Times on the 27th January 2005 “Torture is never acceptable, nor do we hand over people to countries that do torture.” while all the victims of "rendition" interviewed by Amnesty International have testified that they were subjected to torture and other ill-treatment. Frankly the film scripts ring more truth.
So called “Water-boarding” is depicted in three recent films. Gavin Hood’s star studded Hollywood film Rendition, James Threapleton’s low budget, realist drama Extraordinary Rendition, and the very first episode of ITV’s new television drama The Whistleblowers. Threapleton’s stuntman, who is apparently used to drowning experiences (!) could not take the drowning simulation torture for more than a few seconds and refused to ever do it again. He could do that, for him it was indeed just a scene from a film. The background though, is much more serene. Something called Extraordinary Rendition has forced its way into the entertainment industry. This sensitive subject is explored and explained in the three very different films.
I was explained the meaning of this somewhat technical expression by James Threapleton when he presented his film at the international film festival in Locarno this summer. It was one of the disappointingly few highlights at last year’s festival edition, which was shamefully overlooked in the awards but made a lasting impression nonetheless. The film begins with the finding of a heavily wounded man in London. In back flashes we hear how Zaafir ended up there. The well integrated young college tutor gets abducted in town and finds himself facing interrogation and torture in a far away country. He spends horrifying weeks outside of any justice system available to him because he is suspected to be a terrorist.
Countries like the UK or the USA do not torture. It is forbidden by their constitution. Neither is it allowed to extradite people if it is likely that they will undergo torture in their home country. Surely these are laws that we should be proud to abide by. Unfortunately there is a way around them, which is Rendition. Terror suspects are flown out of the country in question and brought to a place that does use torture. This then can be termed collaboration of secret services. Of course this system is prone to heavy mistakes and the new films concentrate on these.
While Extraordinary Rendition focuses on the victim, Gavin Hood’s film focuses on the people and institutions surrounding it. The ice cold CIA agent, the troubled American witnessing the interrogation, the pregnant wife fighting for her disappeared husband, the young senatorial assistant who wants to help until his career is endangered, the leading interrogator and his run away daughter and her boyfriend who gets involved with militant Islamist groups. The film may be overloaded but its intentions are nonetheless the right ones.
It may be a streak of luck that all three films are very good. It’s a tightrope walk between informing and exploiting and all of them balance it well. Film has always been a good political medium and it has to be allowed to be taken seriously as such. The new wave of politically driven Hollywood films like Syriana, Good Night and Good Luck, Michael Clayton or Lambs for Lions have resuscitated the American mainstream. They are not radical films, they are glossy and entertaining and they have to be, they are, after all, Hollywood movies. But the tone has become more stern, the message clearer. The films have an opinion and they want to affect us emotionally. All three films assure us that these things actually happen. Everyday. There should be no accusations that this an in-topic and its depiction redundant. Even more there should be no accusations that this is not a suitable entertainment story. It is true Rendition moves dangerously close along the lines of a thriller and sometimes the viewing gets a bit uncomfortable, not because of what but because of the how certain storylines are depicted. But it does reach a very large audience. So do ITV’s Whistleblowers in which a man is held within England and a professional torturer is flown in. Three audiences are targeted at the same time. Should we not be glad that they are? Aren’t film and television legitimate platforms? Should we not be happy, that these films are made?
I think we should. For Extraordinary Rendition is a fact and is carried out by the countries we live in. People get literally kidnapped by the state, for once they are captured it does not get known where they are, their official status is ‘Missing’. Introduced by the Clinton administration in 1995 numbers of cases carried out have excessively increased in the ‘war on terror’. Between 1995 and 2001 Amnesty International recorded 5 known cases, since September 11th, 2001 the number has risen to 150. The dark figures are feared to be considerably higher. Slowly but surely the practice is being proven and known as more and more former prisoners are speaking out, like Maher Arar, a Canadian citizen who got arrested during a flight connection in America and brought to Syria. For him “Water Boarding” became reality, one that he could not stop after a few seconds.
If serious, well made films can increase attention given to these matters, then they should. Especially when George W Bush says in the Times on the 27th January 2005 “Torture is never acceptable, nor do we hand over people to countries that do torture.” while all the victims of "rendition" interviewed by Amnesty International have testified that they were subjected to torture and other ill-treatment. Frankly the film scripts ring more truth.
Saturday, 1 March 2008
Juno
Jason Reitman, 2007
There have been several unwanted pregnancies on our screens recently. From this summer’s hit comedy Knocked Up (why that was such a success I will never comprehend…), to the bleak Romanian abortion drama 4 Months, 3 Weeks & 2 Days and now Juno the charming teen flick with baby.
The script has been widely celebrated and now even crowned with an Oscar. The film is very good, but that good? The beginning turns out to be very hard work, the film is dreadfully boring and the dialogue trying way too hard. Then it suddenly turns around masterfully. The minute Juno makes a decision and tells her parents about the baby the narrative picks up speed and is finally at ease with itself.
Juno (Ellen Page) is a cool rather than trendy, disarming 16year old who decides to have the baby and give it up for adoption. The chosen parents (Jennifer Garner & Jason Bateman) are found in an adoption add. The films determination to fight stereotyping by radically debunking it, is its greatest achievement. At first Jennifer Garner’s character seems hopelessly tense and baby-starved while her laid-back, yet-to-be-discovered musician husband is ever so cool, soon the coin flips however and the movie puts away with this sympathetic and infantile loser type that seems to crop up far too often these days. Similarly the working woman that longs for a baby is not an annoying lunatic, complex-laden and humour-less nightmare of formerly mentioned men and hardcore feminists alike but one of the most sympathetic figures in the movie. Jennifer Garner has never been this good.
The entire cast is great and Ellen Page’s Oscar nomination very deserved. The film is immensely colourful and underscored with a picture-book Indiefilm soundtrack. It fires endless one-liners at its audience and skilfully balances between laugh-out-loud moments and the utter sadness that is essential to the story.
Juno lives in an age where abortion is an equal option for the girl. The fact that she decides against it, is not condemning those who do. It is still a shame, that the scene in the abortion clinic depicts the pro-life demonstrator outside equally miserable as the personnel inside.
Juno is a very good film that seems to be just like its heroine, thoroughly good-hearted yet quite irritating at times.
There have been several unwanted pregnancies on our screens recently. From this summer’s hit comedy Knocked Up (why that was such a success I will never comprehend…), to the bleak Romanian abortion drama 4 Months, 3 Weeks & 2 Days and now Juno the charming teen flick with baby.
The script has been widely celebrated and now even crowned with an Oscar. The film is very good, but that good? The beginning turns out to be very hard work, the film is dreadfully boring and the dialogue trying way too hard. Then it suddenly turns around masterfully. The minute Juno makes a decision and tells her parents about the baby the narrative picks up speed and is finally at ease with itself.
Juno (Ellen Page) is a cool rather than trendy, disarming 16year old who decides to have the baby and give it up for adoption. The chosen parents (Jennifer Garner & Jason Bateman) are found in an adoption add. The films determination to fight stereotyping by radically debunking it, is its greatest achievement. At first Jennifer Garner’s character seems hopelessly tense and baby-starved while her laid-back, yet-to-be-discovered musician husband is ever so cool, soon the coin flips however and the movie puts away with this sympathetic and infantile loser type that seems to crop up far too often these days. Similarly the working woman that longs for a baby is not an annoying lunatic, complex-laden and humour-less nightmare of formerly mentioned men and hardcore feminists alike but one of the most sympathetic figures in the movie. Jennifer Garner has never been this good.
The entire cast is great and Ellen Page’s Oscar nomination very deserved. The film is immensely colourful and underscored with a picture-book Indiefilm soundtrack. It fires endless one-liners at its audience and skilfully balances between laugh-out-loud moments and the utter sadness that is essential to the story.
Juno lives in an age where abortion is an equal option for the girl. The fact that she decides against it, is not condemning those who do. It is still a shame, that the scene in the abortion clinic depicts the pro-life demonstrator outside equally miserable as the personnel inside.
Juno is a very good film that seems to be just like its heroine, thoroughly good-hearted yet quite irritating at times.
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