another film without hope?

Federico Fellini's semi-autobiographical 8 1/2 is one of the great (if not one of the best) films about filmmaking, memory and fantasy. The title refers to his unfinished project. It also illuminates the difficulty in translating one's own nostalgia into artistic expression ("You've got to make yourself understood. Otherwise, what's the point of it?"). It opens with a dream sequence of a man trapped in an automobile who eventually floats out high above the sea. This is symbolic of the new birth of our main character, Guido (an appropriately understated Marcello Mastroianni), a well-known, 43-year old filmmaker who is struggling to make his next picture. In hopes to be inspired, Guido undergoes treatment by staying at a spa. There, he continues an affair with his flamboyant, ravenous mistress Carla (Sandra Milo). Their relationship is obviously unsatisfying, as Guido attempts to direct her ("make a slutty face") from bed and his distracted, weak attempts to nurse her when she is ill.













Fellini's use of character shows Guido's constant interaction with others but Guido's inherent isolation (he is described as "Mr. Alienated"). Like "cruel bees sucking life out of a flower," advisers, producers, scriptwriters, and reporters constantly prod and probe him about art, political affiliations, religion, love. His actors have demands too and as do his filmgoers who note his inability to make a hopeful film or a love story. Guido fittingly falls asleep in a bed full of headshots. All of this is the natural predicament of a filmmaker struggling to make a film "useful to everybody ... that could help bury forever all those dead things we carry within ourselves." The set of the film itself, is ironically an elaborate rocket launchpad, built on the unsteady foundation of sand.













The Catholic church is a heavy presence over the film; there is a shot of an imposing raised-arm statue of a religious figure over Guido as a schoolboy. The church guides Guido to the Cardinal for the ultimate treatment ("there is no salvation outside the church") and for him to use cultured subjects and logic if he wishes to make a statement on the Catholicism. What's so rich about Fellini's work here is his depictions of religious figures: they are capable of both cruelty and understanding (and wisdom) and are just as human as anyone else.












The difficulty of loving someone, the battle between truth and artificiality and the quest for truth in art are major themes in 8 1/2. When Guido's wife Luisa (Anouk Aimee) enters the picture, she emerges as an unassuming but challenging figure, fed-up with Guido's infidelity and self-absorption. She scolds him at one point, unable to decipher the truths and falsity in his statements. And yet there is a tender neediness to their relationship. When Guido's mistress Carla asks for truth, Guido reverts to another state of dream. He is told he has "changed" and is unable to love. The film asks many questions on the state of the artist: should he, essentially a liar, strip away everything around him in order to pursue the purity of truth? How does one become a better man while remaining an artist critical and passionate about the world around him? All of this culminates in a dreamy, Utopian carnival-like sequence where all of his characters hold hands and dance. Is this scene of unity merely another forced fantasy, a hopeful dream? It ends similarly to the final bows of actors in a play.

8 1/2 is a movie where "everything happens," but not in a frivolous way. It's buoyant, liberating (both in content and cinematic possibilities) yet also made of many careful choices ("you're free, but you must learn to choose"): almost every frame is a thrilling visual surprise (the film breezes by in its near two and half hours). Like the women described in the picture, the movie is "sensual but wicked." Surfaces, headlights and lamp lights gleam around Guido (including his own chic pair of eyeglasses). Nino Rota's jaunty score, and the use of classical music, adds to its the texture. The costumes (which won the Academy Award) reflect the distinct personalities of each of his unusual muses--especially the indelible, heavily-mascaraed women of his life.

-Jeffery Berg

tippi collage

Tippi Hedren.

heart of gold

Debut director Scott Cooper helms a beautiful directorial debut with Crazy Heart. The plot is familiar as blues--an alcoholic, washed-up aging singer falls in love and ultimately finds redemption. It's similar to 1983's Tender Mercies and echoes both the bleak grit of Darren Aronofsky's The Wrestler and the tuneful slickness of the Johnny Cash biopic Walk the Line. Yet Crazy Heart's screenplay (adapted by Scott from a 1987 Thomas Cobb novel) is fairly funny and buoyant throughout, a charming throwback to old country and naturalistic classics of the early 70s such as Five Easy Pieces.

The crowning glory of the film is Jeff Bridges. Sometimes too overbearing, Bridges has finally been given a big ol' role that suits his robustness, his charms and gifts. He physically transforms into the greasy, bloated Bad Blake: recklessly driving a '78 Suburban, chain smoking, swigging whiskey, limping on a crutch, fiddling with his guitar. His voice, so haggard and worn, is perfect too, and he gives the film's outstanding country numbers an emotional pull. It's one of the great performances and a joy to watch. Maggie Gyllenhaal, as a small paper reporter and Blake's romantic interest, is so expressive and likable that I forgot that she seemed miscast, too metropolitan and too young for the role (she's in her 40s in the novel). A surprising revelation is Colin Farrell (always good at playing a slime ball) who nails his part as Bad Blake's Nashville-glitzed one-time protégé. Tender Mercies's Robert Duvall shows up as Blake's salty bartender friend and offers up a little song (stay for its reprise in the closing credits).

Besides the stirring performances, the technical elements are strong as well. Cinematographer Barry Markowitz (All the Pretty Horses, The Apostle, Sling Blade) provides many stunning shots and really should do more movies! The music enhances the film immeasurably. T-Bone Burnett who co-wrote the score and song production has modernized old folk and country on soundtracks such as Walk the Line, Cold Mountain, and O Brother, Where Art Thou? which won the 2001 Grammy for Album of the Year. On Crazy Heart's gorgeous soundtrack there are remnants of these rootsy, infectious sounds. The film's ultimate anthem is "The Weary Kind," written by Burnett, Ryan Bingham and the late Stephen Bruton (whom the film is dedicated to). It's a tender ode for the downtrodden. Another tune, "Fallin' & Flyin'," is gorgeously melodic and soars at one point when our story's two clashing stars sing it as a harmonious duet. It certainly sounds like a song that Blake could have recorded--a comforting, long-forgotten hit in the dustbin of American country music.

-Jeffery Berg

empire state of mind

One of my Christmas presents was a print of Richard Estes's "Telephone Booths" which was on display at the Met in 1987.

His photorealisitc oil paintings are really magnificent. I love the lighting and unique angles he has in his work.

Many are based on color photographs he took. He has painted the city for decades.

Apollo, 1968.

Subway, 1969

Billiards, 1976

Williamsburg Bridge, 1987

5th Avenue Bus sketch, 1995

Kentucky Fried Chicken, 2007

The L Train, 2009

"[the process of art is] calculated, sustained, and slow ... by which you develop something.... It's not done with one's emotions; it's done with the head."

-Richard Estes

You can view his work here.

i see blue people

James Cameron has consistently delivered entertaining eye candy films that have pushed the boundaries of technological achievement (The Terminator, Aliens, The Abyss, and Titanic among them). His latest Avatar is another immersion into a visual fantasy-land. Yet, there isn't much in the material to separate this mawkish, horribly written sentimental sci-fi from any other films that the 2000s pumped out at the multi-plexes. I kept looking away, down at the plain-looking audience members around me, who were obviously enraptured with the film, but were such a far cry from the expensive, sugary nonsense portrayed on-screen before them.

Sam Worthington plays Jake (not Jack), an injured Marine who travels to the planet Pandora on behalf of the military for a special mission. There he is able to become part of the Na'vi tribe (Navi is interestingly enough Thai for Marine) and begins to fall in love with Neytiri (expressively voiced by Zoe Saldana). The illustrations of the Na'vi people are an unfortunate aspect of an otherwise interesting premise. Smurf-blue, with braids, dreads and six packs, and voiced with stereotypical black inflections, they come off as another Hollywood-ized primitive African tribe. The script doesn't tell us too much about them. The movie dissonantly moves from their lush, too-pretty Pandora surroundings to steely military bases (which to me, were more interesting) by using close-ups on eyes. Once the film decides to side with the Na'vi against the badass crewcutted Americans in fighter planes, it becomes unique social commentary. Is this the first American film in a while where we are rooting against the Americans? There are spunky, too-short appearances by Sigourney Weaver and Michelle Rodriguez. Otherwise, there isn't much to the plot nor the love story between Neytiri and Jake.

Avatar is a mishmash of Cameron's other works but not nearly as assured. It lacks the grit of Aliens (Avatar is conveniently being marketed by McDonald's with flashy Happy Meal toys), not to mention that film's more exciting technical effects. And it tries to mimic a forbidden love story a la Titanic but without the charisma of strong actors to rise above a bad script. A James Horner hemmed Leona Lewis track tacked on the end credits is a weak attempt at "My Heart Will Go On." And there are plenty of cringe inducing dialogue moments ("I see you.")

Despite its formulaic qualities, Cameron's film is being hailed as breakthrough and a sure-bet Best Picture nominee. Smartly the production team rolled out this in the same anti-climatic way Titanic was released. But there were plenty of better films in the genre this year that worked against the grain on smaller budgets (District 9 among them). I think their rewards should be greater.

-Jeffery Berg