I didn’t notice it before in “Sweet Movie” until my second viewing: The commune sequence in the second half of the film is cast entirely with, and most likely shot, in Friedrichshof, where performance artist Otto Muehl and his merry band of anarchist artists vomit and shit and piss the day away. Puzzlingly, this is regarded as art by some. I’m not sure I read the importance of these “acts” in relation to the art world.
I came across Muehl’s early vomit art on YouTube and the bad vibes I felt seeing the video carried over to “Sweet Movie”. It’s puzzling how something Muehl and Makavejev considered brave and political and shocking is mainstream enough to be in 1,000 theaters for weeks. That’s right, the films I’m talking about are the “Jackass” series. Created by Spike Jonze and his pals, who happen to thank Pasolini and Bunuel, among other artists, in the end credits. No doubt, you’ll find Muehl and Makavejev on that list.
The “Jackass” boys reference to performance artists and surrealists was most likely a tongue in cheek joke. I bet modern filmmakers and artists, of the likes of Jonze and co., can see the irony in taking something as “artistic” as vomit and penis grabs and making it popular knucklehead entertainment.
Let’s face it, in the critical world the harder you look the more you see. With the right perspective you can see the disillusionment and pain and isolation and confusion in America’s youth watching “Jackass Two” or “The Hills” or anything of the sort. We know better. We can see that it’s trash and we regard it as trash and we go to it for the sake of trash.
Pasolini goes and makes “Salo”. Our Serbian pal makes “Sweet Movie”. Otto “shits” and “pukes”. Is it art because they say so? I’m not so sure. I know kids my age who see these movies with the same fascination that they see “Jackass”. Frankly, that makes sense. I think we’ve grown past being shocked into believing this stuff is art.
Yet.
I find myself rolling my eyes when I see “Sweet Movie” or “Salo”. Something I find as serious as talking about these films in absolute reverence. Spouting off about their artistic statement.
Saying they matter.
Maybe they do matter to me. After all I can’t stop thinking about them. I scoff and I groan and still I talk about these films.
So.
If I have one artistic ethic I love, it’s the right to free expression. Yet I find myself asking, why does Otto’s vomit have to be considered art?
http://www.abc.net.au/thingo/txt/s1155422.htm
http://members.ozemail.com.au/~annandbilld/vomitorium/vom_pics.htm
http://media.www.dailynebraskan.com/media/storage/paper857/news/1996/12/02/Arts/Art-Student.Plans.To.Vomit.On.Paintings-2098412.shtml
http://www.ratemyvomit.com/?action=ssp&pid=1229
and on and on.
There are enough sites online dedicated to vomit art to shame those who let their food go out traditionally. No wonder Otto’s community went out of style. It’s because EVERYONE else in the world is doing it. What does this mean?
And how long until it becomes fashionable? When Otto Muehl and Makavejev made their films it was meant to rise against the modern art politics of the time. Now kids do it all over. Next it’ll be sold in boutiques in the fashionista boulevards of Manhattan. Celebrated in parties thrown by snobbish art appreciators.
Will it?
I’m musing. Though can it?
It’s been on every screen. You can find it in any store. Criterion releases these films in their collection. We feature “Sweet Movie” on our site. The truth is it probably was already hip in high class social circles.
I felt like being grossly prophetic for a moment.
I’m in obvious need of clarification. Is a work of art still considered important and meaningful in light of the context alone?
Or is it pretentious, artistic perversity?
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
INDY 4
Imagine the summer's biggest adventure. Imagine no fun. No suspense. No charm. No camera. No cinema. There's nothing in the world that can prepare you for this. There is no booklet that will counsel your feeling of loathing and regret. Take a seat and stay there. At home. Don't leave your door. Don't go to the cinema. Don't you dare. Indiana Jones takes his next adventure to an empty Burbank backlot where the mystery lies in our hope of something remotely interesting actually ever happening. Take the risk. Take a coma. There's no hope for old Spielberg. It's glory lost my friend cuz there are new kids in town. They are cooler and smarter and they've carried the fire. I've never been so let down by an artist in a very long time.
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Alter Egos and Discombobulated Emotions
'The Science of Sleep' is a stream-of-consciousness kaleidoscope of broken love and youthful longing. Michel Gondry has taken a few pages from his heartbroken diaries and brought them to the screen. I wouldn't doubt it. The love here is woven from thrift store fabric, it's falling apart before it even begins and as far as the film is concerned there may be no beginning or end. This time Charlie Kaufman isn't penning a Gondry movie and I think that's what makes this so good. This is the work of a true auteur, it's a conversation between Michel Gondry and us, a straightforward talk without convention or restraint. (Not that Kaufman isn't an artist himself)
Gael Garcia Bernal plays Stephane, a creative graphic artist that returns to Paris from Mexico to stay with his mother (Miou-Miou) after his father's death. Stephane runs into a romance with Stephanie (Charlotte Gainsborough), his timid neighbour, and her best friend Zoe (Emma de Caunes). Falling first for Zoe, he is rejected and then detours into troublesome infatuation with Stephanie. Stephane isn't in the best situation at work either since his mother had promised him a job as an artist at a calendar company and instead he got a simple nine to fiver. There he meets Guy who is played wonderfully by Alain Chabat. Guy is a lovable bully who enjoys stuffing co-workers down trashcans and yet manages to offer Stephane spots of advice.
Stephane's misadventures with friends and relationships brings memories of Godard's equally disjointed and liveley 'Masculin Feminin'. With this movie Gael Garcia Bernal has become the new Jean-Pierre Leaud. Stephane's pathology and awkwardness is equally balanced with Bernal's charm and romantic whim, not unlike Leaud did with 'Feminin's' Paul . Stephane may be a wreck but we can't help but sympathize with him. The guy sleeps in his childhood bedroom with gadgets, toys, and crafts. It's so adorable.
The love story has been seen before, guy wants girl but girl doesn't want him so guy chases after her. What story hasn't right? But I really liked the way it was told here, the disappointments and fuck ups were really authentic. I don't want to cite any specific scenes because it would spoil the surprises the movie has in store. I can just say that the way the dreams and real events are coordinated is fantastic. Okay, there's a scene where Stephane takes Stephanie's stuffed animal and gives it some repairs. In his dreams Stephane runs a t.v. show called (what else?) Stephane TV, on his show he has Stephanie act out the events that will happen when she sees her new toy. She reacts bitterly, she didn't like what he did to her toy. Stephane tells her not to do that, to act happy and grateful. Stephanie does so and he mutters, "Don't do that either, don't give me hope." I had a complete "I do that in my head too!" moment. Okay, I'm going off the film review format here but fuck it I can't review this movie any other way. I like it too much.
It's as if Gondry made a movie about my heart and many other hearts out there. Stephane's character was so close to me that it was like viewing myself through a looking glass. The way dreams and ideas float around his head are they way they float in mine. Jesus tap-dancing christ, I know that's how all our minds work. Perhaps not so paper-maché or stop motion-y but damn near close.
The movie turned out to be my "The Graduate", it really gets the pop angst mindset of the kids like me. It's like prog rock cinema in the way the rhythms are so wild and eccentric and flavorful! Hell I don't care if any of you don't like it. The ads say it nicely, "Michel Gondry invites you into his dreams". It may be a bad move as a commercial filmmaker to make a film that's so abstract and bizarre. But it's a great leap for Michel as an artist. One dude can really hate it but then some dudette might love the music and images and relate to the story so much that it changes her life. Goddamn, that's cinema! That's art man!
Seriously, the poetry of Michel Gondry's visuals will have you smiling all the way through. Gondry made a really sweet movie and his inventiveness never ceases to amaze. If you like his music videos, then you'll like this a lot if not more. Stephane's imagination is wonderful but the lesson here is that sometimes dreams can be taken too far and that perhaps not growing up just a bit can damage yourself and others. So you might leave Gondry's world a little sad. Hey, all the best love stories end with sadness don't they? It's like this, you're looking through a box and you find a raggedy picture of a young boy and a tricycle. This picture reminds you of your childhood with all the heartache and joy at once. It's as if you were the boy in that picture, it has tapped into your youth and your soul. That's what this movie does.
Gael Garcia Bernal plays Stephane, a creative graphic artist that returns to Paris from Mexico to stay with his mother (Miou-Miou) after his father's death. Stephane runs into a romance with Stephanie (Charlotte Gainsborough), his timid neighbour, and her best friend Zoe (Emma de Caunes). Falling first for Zoe, he is rejected and then detours into troublesome infatuation with Stephanie. Stephane isn't in the best situation at work either since his mother had promised him a job as an artist at a calendar company and instead he got a simple nine to fiver. There he meets Guy who is played wonderfully by Alain Chabat. Guy is a lovable bully who enjoys stuffing co-workers down trashcans and yet manages to offer Stephane spots of advice.
Stephane's misadventures with friends and relationships brings memories of Godard's equally disjointed and liveley 'Masculin Feminin'. With this movie Gael Garcia Bernal has become the new Jean-Pierre Leaud. Stephane's pathology and awkwardness is equally balanced with Bernal's charm and romantic whim, not unlike Leaud did with 'Feminin's' Paul . Stephane may be a wreck but we can't help but sympathize with him. The guy sleeps in his childhood bedroom with gadgets, toys, and crafts. It's so adorable.
The love story has been seen before, guy wants girl but girl doesn't want him so guy chases after her. What story hasn't right? But I really liked the way it was told here, the disappointments and fuck ups were really authentic. I don't want to cite any specific scenes because it would spoil the surprises the movie has in store. I can just say that the way the dreams and real events are coordinated is fantastic. Okay, there's a scene where Stephane takes Stephanie's stuffed animal and gives it some repairs. In his dreams Stephane runs a t.v. show called (what else?) Stephane TV, on his show he has Stephanie act out the events that will happen when she sees her new toy. She reacts bitterly, she didn't like what he did to her toy. Stephane tells her not to do that, to act happy and grateful. Stephanie does so and he mutters, "Don't do that either, don't give me hope." I had a complete "I do that in my head too!" moment. Okay, I'm going off the film review format here but fuck it I can't review this movie any other way. I like it too much.
It's as if Gondry made a movie about my heart and many other hearts out there. Stephane's character was so close to me that it was like viewing myself through a looking glass. The way dreams and ideas float around his head are they way they float in mine. Jesus tap-dancing christ, I know that's how all our minds work. Perhaps not so paper-maché or stop motion-y but damn near close.
The movie turned out to be my "The Graduate", it really gets the pop angst mindset of the kids like me. It's like prog rock cinema in the way the rhythms are so wild and eccentric and flavorful! Hell I don't care if any of you don't like it. The ads say it nicely, "Michel Gondry invites you into his dreams". It may be a bad move as a commercial filmmaker to make a film that's so abstract and bizarre. But it's a great leap for Michel as an artist. One dude can really hate it but then some dudette might love the music and images and relate to the story so much that it changes her life. Goddamn, that's cinema! That's art man!
Seriously, the poetry of Michel Gondry's visuals will have you smiling all the way through. Gondry made a really sweet movie and his inventiveness never ceases to amaze. If you like his music videos, then you'll like this a lot if not more. Stephane's imagination is wonderful but the lesson here is that sometimes dreams can be taken too far and that perhaps not growing up just a bit can damage yourself and others. So you might leave Gondry's world a little sad. Hey, all the best love stories end with sadness don't they? It's like this, you're looking through a box and you find a raggedy picture of a young boy and a tricycle. This picture reminds you of your childhood with all the heartache and joy at once. It's as if you were the boy in that picture, it has tapped into your youth and your soul. That's what this movie does.
Monday, July 10, 2006
"Returns" is Pure Kryptonite
Bryan Singer’s “Superman Returns” had the misfortune of riding the coattails of “Spider-man 2” and the first “Superman”. Those are two movies that are alive with danger, conflict, humanity, and romance. They work not only as live-action comic books but cinematically as well. Singer’s soulless movie is almost three hours LONG and all we see is Superman lift a plane, a boat, and a giant rock.
To say that the plot meanders is to suggest a plot. The way Singer and his screenwriters tell this story is through a series of vignettes that don’t connect to one another. The characters spout lines that have no real importance, like when Lex Luthor claims he has obtained advanced alien technology that he will use against Superman. Lex diabolically creates an island of kryptonite with his acquired technology and gets to punch Superman around in the most unexciting good vs. evil battle ever filmed. That’s the thing about this movie, everything is uninteresting and unoriginal: the monosyllabic characters, the direction, the effects (260 Million Dollars folks), and the story.
Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor is fun. Though the thrill of seeing Kaizer Sozak ham it up in a superhero movie soon wears off. Brandon Routh, who started out doing low-key soaps, does a fine job of looking like Christopher Reeves but does nothing else. He's a cardboard cutout of a comic book character, there's no charm in him however Superman was never the most fun to begin with. He's the good, clean-cut adoptive American boy that carries our burdens like the second coming. There should be a more compelling way to describe these characters, inlcuding Supes himself, yet I feel there's nothing much to say other than lines from a simple brochure character bio. There's just no chemistry or excitement on the screen. A superhero flick for the DVD set.
A part in the movie itself sums it up. There’s a scene where the boss man at the Daily Planet, Perry White, has photos of Superman spread out in front of Jimmy Olsen, the paper’s photographer. “Look at these shots, they’re iconic and they were taken by a kid with a camera phone!” He sets Jimmy’s picture on the table. It’s a blurry photo of Superman zipping by. What's said here works if you remember the original.
Richard Donner’s “Superman”, made with old-school wizardry and wit created something iconic. Mr. Singer with his big name and money just took a dumpy little photo.
To say that the plot meanders is to suggest a plot. The way Singer and his screenwriters tell this story is through a series of vignettes that don’t connect to one another. The characters spout lines that have no real importance, like when Lex Luthor claims he has obtained advanced alien technology that he will use against Superman. Lex diabolically creates an island of kryptonite with his acquired technology and gets to punch Superman around in the most unexciting good vs. evil battle ever filmed. That’s the thing about this movie, everything is uninteresting and unoriginal: the monosyllabic characters, the direction, the effects (260 Million Dollars folks), and the story.
Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor is fun. Though the thrill of seeing Kaizer Sozak ham it up in a superhero movie soon wears off. Brandon Routh, who started out doing low-key soaps, does a fine job of looking like Christopher Reeves but does nothing else. He's a cardboard cutout of a comic book character, there's no charm in him however Superman was never the most fun to begin with. He's the good, clean-cut adoptive American boy that carries our burdens like the second coming. There should be a more compelling way to describe these characters, inlcuding Supes himself, yet I feel there's nothing much to say other than lines from a simple brochure character bio. There's just no chemistry or excitement on the screen. A superhero flick for the DVD set.
A part in the movie itself sums it up. There’s a scene where the boss man at the Daily Planet, Perry White, has photos of Superman spread out in front of Jimmy Olsen, the paper’s photographer. “Look at these shots, they’re iconic and they were taken by a kid with a camera phone!” He sets Jimmy’s picture on the table. It’s a blurry photo of Superman zipping by. What's said here works if you remember the original.
Richard Donner’s “Superman”, made with old-school wizardry and wit created something iconic. Mr. Singer with his big name and money just took a dumpy little photo.