“Persepolis”

reviewed by Tommy Ucciardi

If I say, “Iran,” what’s the first thing to pop into your head?  That’s right, A Flock of Seagulls.  What’s the second thing?  Yup, the country.  You’re very good at this.

Academy Award nominee for Best Animated Feature, “Persepolis” tells the autobiographical childhood story of Marjane Satrapi and her family during the Iranian revolution in the early 80’s.  Based on her critically acclaimed comic book, the film is as much a political commentary of Iranian life as it is an emotional account of a family’s struggle to remain just that…a family. 

Born into a progressive, free-thinking household, Marjane (voiced by Chiara Mastroianni …Yes!  That Mastroianni) starts off as a 9 year-old that is playful in a way one would expect from a young child, but also very politically astute for her age; a quality lacking in many adults these days much less a child.  Her love for Bruce Lee movies is equally matched by her childlike innocence to become a prophet and savior of the people ensuring everyone a better life.  Ultimately, it’s Marjane’s character which creates a prevalent mood of the film; a well-crafted balance of political frustration and strong wit. 

Later in her life Marjane is sent to study in Europe and her teenage years are spent conflicted as she wrestles with her desire to enjoy the spoils of a war-free society while her family remains in Iran.  She’s unable to truly enjoy the opportunity and is always at odds with her new life and the people she interacts with.   Growing up during a revolution makes an idolized outsider of Marjane to her privileged, punk-rocker friends that are always seeking something to rebel against.  In her attempts to find love, her choices lead to despair and she returns home thinking herself a failure, incapable of carving a niche in Europe.  

However, “Persepolis” reveals another layer to the story: the life of an Iranian woman.  Throughout the film we see a world of secret identity: that of the quiet, restrained female in public life who can only be herself when hidden behind closed doors.   And yet, our heroine remains true to her character.  At one point, she jokes her way through the frustration of sketching a covered model during an anatomy art class, but equally rallies against the school board’s suggestion that women should wear longer scarves to avoid tempting the male students.   Again, we see that balance of playfulness and frustration.

Herein lies the strength of the film.  It tells a fluid story and never strays from its theme of “struggle and identity.”  It has sentiment without being overtly sentimental and remains committed to the characters without becoming mostly a political comment.  The animation is styled after Satrapi’s comic book, which is simplistic and more reminiscent of a comic strip, but with a subtle sophistication that doesn’t hide behind “bells and whistles.”   While there are cartoon-like elements, you never forget the seriousness of the world unfolding that is as much one person’s struggle as it is a historical account of Iran over the course of some fifteen years.   After leaving the theater I took a moment to think about: a) “What the hell am I doing with my life?”  And, b) “What are the important things in my life?”  Eventually, I got a little depressed, but in a good way.   

So you know, the film is in French so it sounds a lot like, “Blah, bleer, patooo, pateee, pishaw,” unless you speak French, then I’d wager it sounds very different.  Don’t worry if you don’t though; there’s English subtitles so wear your reading glasses if you need them.   You can be comforted in the knowledge that it’s dark in the theater and no one will point and laugh at you…four-eyes.  But, best to take them off a few minutes before the lights go up so you don’t have that indentation in your nose from wearing them, ‘cause everyone will know and make fun of you anyway.

RUUUUUN…

…AWAY from this movie. Don’t give Hollywood any affirmation that it should’ve been made. Don’t give them permission to go on producing steaming piles of doggie-doo-doo (that’s a professional term) like this. Don’t buy the DVD in two weeks with the fourteen hours of additional footage and the commentary by the caterer. Just don’t.

What? Why did I see it? Good question. You’re a very observant Sugarzine reader. You ask questions. You’re curious. I like that. Anyway, I was dragged by what I used to consider a good friend. I say, “used to” because we’re no longer on speaking terms. I tried convincing myself that it would be a fun little no-brainer, shoot’em up flick and Hey! I dig me some old Japanese monster movies. I apologize to Japan for ever putting this film in league with their movies of yore.

For starters, I’m not really sure why it’s called Cloverfield, but then I’m not sure in what New York City this story takes place. It looked like NYC, and yet it was really a city that people in L.A. who’ve never been here think NY is actually like.

In The Blair Witch Project style, the entire film is shot with a video camera giving it a third person point of view. All this did was remind me how much I hated The Blair Witch Project and that’s always a good film technique: use bad movies as the basis for your new movie.

Rob Hawkins, (Michael Stahl-David) is moving to Japan for work so his brother Jason (Mike Vogel), Jason’s girlfriend Lily (Jessica Lucas) and trend-setter friends throw Rob a going away party which is videotaped by the comic-relief Hud (T.J. Miller). He’s smitten with Marlena (Lizzy Caplan, who I really dig in Mean Girls, and is actually the only decent actress in the film) and that rounds off the lead cast.

Everything is going swell for the successful, white, pretty and “oh-so-cosmopolitan” party people: there’s laughter, drinking, music, and overall merriment until a moment of drama between Rob and his dream girl Beth (Odette Yustman) causes her to storm out. This would be the three-second love plot that’s supposed to make us believe the upcoming quest.

Suddenly, there’s a rumble: Oh No! What could it be? Inquisitiveness, followed by murmurs among the party crowd. Gasp! It’s a giant monster tearing up New York! Quick Rob, realize how much you love Beth and go rescue her at her Uptown apartment (which is the Time Warner building of course) you little hero you. Jason, Lily, Marlena and Hud (with camera) decide, sure we’ll go with.

I won’t tell you the rest, in case you decide that you just HAVE to see it. I won’t be a prick and ruin it for you. HA! Yeah I will! SPOILER ALERT: Everyone DIES!! Except Lily. She gets carried away in a military helicopter. In her defense, she DOES show off her ass crawling through debris so it only makes sense that she should live. Jason should’ve showed his, but he didn’t, so instead he’s crushed on the Brooklyn Bridge; Marlena pops like a cherry from an infectious alien bite; Hud is chewed up and spit out by the monster; Jason and Beth get caught in an explosion. They all deserved it for being in this film.

The FX are lukewarm at best. During the start of the city’s destruction, Lady Liberty’s head lands in the middle of the street; it was no bigger than Lily. Um, seriously? You’d think the effects team would’ve looked up a little something about the Statue of Liberty when designing the model. Then they would’ve known that an entire tour group can FIT IN HER HEAD!

All this time, buildings are collapsing as the giant creature, who for some reason doesn’t have legs—it just walks around on its hands—tears up the place and never really leaves midtown. Yes, like so many a tourist, “Let’s make a mess of midtown! Whoo-hoo!” You might’ve already heard about the similarities Cloverfield has to 9/11. Well, it’s all true. You can almost imagine the FX team computerizing the destruction directly from September 11th footage. I mean, it’s a good thing the World Trade Center fell or else they wouldn’t have been so exact in their recreation of crumbling skyscrapers in the movie. Yes, it’s that bad.

At one point, a guy jumped up in the theater and yelled at the screen. While all the petrified white people are fleeing from terror, the first group of black people we see in the film are looting an electronics store. The angry movie-goer wasn’t happy with the stereotyping. He was justified in his anger.

Of course, the women are all wearing heels as they escape numerous dangers; all of Manhattan is completely cleared of people in one hour leaving only the main characters and the military; and the video camera battery never runs out of power. The latter is the most implausible. The film doesn’t even explain the monster, expecting the audience to just accept it because Hello! It’s a monster movie and those types of films have monsters in them. Duh!

When the film ended, the entire audience laughed. I tried getting my money back, but apparently that doesn’t happen if you see the movie in its entirety. I did not know that. You really do learn something new every day. So, I tried making up a story that the film brought back horrible memories of my time during 9/11 to guilt my money back, but I’m not that good an actor and the manager wasn’t buying it.

Do yourself a favor and rent any of the Godzilla films from 1954-1975. Myself, I love Mothra vs. Godzilla (1964). Hell, rent Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure because it’s a superior film and towards the end there’s a scene when Pee Wee runs through the filming of a Godzilla movie. That five second scene is better than Cloverfield.

There will be Blood

reviewed by Tommy Ucciardi

“YAY! Paul Thomas Anderson!” 

Judd Apatow.  Judd Apatow, Judd Apatow, Judd Apatow, Judd Apatow.  Judd.  Apatow. 

That pretty much sums up movies lately.  Judd Apatow.  Then again, if you produced three to four HUNDRED movies a week, your name would pop up here and there too.  You know whose name doesn’t pop up much?  Paul Thomas Anderson’s.  Makes sense considering the man directs a feature film once every three to four years.  However, when he does, they’re pretty darn good.  Maybe because he spends a lot of time getting everything just right; like a bride with her wedding.  She doesn’t throw together a quick shebang the day after the engagement.  There’s lots of planning involved:  the right dress, the perfect location, who will sit next to Aunt Betty; and then, two years later, it’s the happiest day of her life.  That’s what P.T. Anderson is like.  There Will Be Blood even made me forgive him for casting Adam Sandler in Punch-Drunk Love.  Yes!  The film is that good.   

Just to give you a quick summary: Loosely based on Upton Sinclair’s 1927 novel “Oil!” about oilfield workers during the early 20th Century, the film tells the story of oil tycoon Daniel Plainview (Daniel Day-Lewis; luckily he didn’t have to learn a new name for the role giving him more time to flesh out his character) and his relationship with 10ish-year old adopted son H.W. Plainview (convincingly played by Dillon Freasier; usually kid actors act like adults which is really annoying), and “God is in his holy temple” preacher Eli Sunday (Paul Dano).  After receiving a tip on some uncharted oil deposits surrounding a small California community, Plainview sets up shop with H.W. and begins purchasing land, promising the townsfolk the spoils of an oil-rich town.  It’s here that Plainview meets Sunday, a greasy, power hungry evangelist that deems himself “voice of the people,” but his selfish desires for power under the guise of God’s chosen disciple is pretty apparent.  What begins is a struggle for power and money between the two men; the winner being the one that wants it more.  

It may seem like your standard “power corrupts absolutely“ story, but the film attempts to show a different take on modern events in the U.S.  While Hollywood-at-large has made several efforts to produce movies that scream the typical mantra “War is bad,” over the country’s battle with Iraq, There Will Be Blood offers us a look at the American oil industry during its infancy.  The struggle and influence of the men who made their money this way reminds us how it all began and why Exxon only gets in a little trouble when there’s an oil spill.  It’s also no surprise to see religion get involved; whenever power is around, some zealot is trying to muscle in on the action.  Basically, we’re given some insight into an industry that is so much a part of our War as well as our environmental issues.  Hell, if the film talked about obesity it would cover all our major topics. 

Though released in theaters on December 26, I still had to wait for the 7:00 p.m. show because the 6:10 p.m. was sold out…and it was a Monday…three weeks later.  Hence the power of the “Golden Globes.”  But, in all fairness, Daniel Day-Lewis does create a truly rich character in Plainview with his businessmanesque exterior and rotting, gritty, loner bubbling just under the surface.  Paul Dano was a little “wet-behind-the-ears” and “over-the-top.”  We saw the usual preacher stereotype instead of a fresh interpretation.  This is easily chalked up to experience, or lack thereof. Dano seems to have his sights set on being known as a “serious” actor, so I’m sure we’ll get more crafty characters from him in the future.   

P.T. Anderson gives us the filmmaker/storyteller experience we’ve come to expect.  The excellent camera work, refreshing character development and expert story pacing should be commended.  In fact, the first eight minutes of the film doesn’t even contain dialogue—another way that P.T. manages to utilize all aspects of filmmaking and allow the visuals to, well, tell a story vis-u-ally; sadly, a dying technique that’s usually a staple in student films.  Unfortunately, when it comes to mainstream films, we’re given character emotions verbally.  An actor tells us how sad she is because the tears running down her face could be from a deep sense of joy, or a dirty contact lens.  We shouldn’t have to struggle to figure it out.  Best that they tell us in the dialogue.   

However, though the pacing does carry the story along quite well, the film is just over two and a half hours.  So, when the person at the concession counter asks if you want the large for fifty-cents more, go ahead and treat yourself.  I got hungry halfway through.  And, even with the haunting musical score and despite the overly sensitive woman sitting next me (she gasped when Plainview removed a pistol from his pocket.  The gun was the type that a femme fatale would hide in her garter, and the woman gasped!  Freak) the film is merely a dark drama and I can’t really figure out why it got an “R” rating.  There’s no penis shots or male nudity of any kind, no sex (gay or straight), very little murder and mayhem, and I can’t even remember a curse word.  Hmmmmmmm.  Maybe it has something to do with the oil business not looking too great in the film and that’s frowned upon, so best to keep influential, under-18 eyes from being corrupted. 

Overall, if you live in a “Red State” you’ll enjoy There Will Be Blood for its compelling depiction of what makes this country great: success for the opportunist.  You might like it more had it been inspired by an Ayn Rand novel, but what can you do?  Those of you in a “Blue State” will feel good about yourselves because the film shows the corruption and ultimate breakdown of the human soul when one sees only profit.  Even though you’ve known this all along, the film reiterates it and we all like to be right.  Myself?  I was reminded of how much I enjoy the smell of freshly pumped gas, but proud that I don’t own or operate a car so the oil industry doesn’t make money off me.  And I was really glad Paul Thomas Anderson produced a well-made film that didn’t contain the name Judd Apatow anywhere in the credits. 

Turning Stirring Lives Into Insipid Films

by Melissa Cruz

This past month has ushered in two new theatrical releases inspired by real life musical heroes.  Julien Temple’s latest rock documentary “The Future is Unwritten” chronicles the life of The Clash frontman Joe Strummer. Todd Haynes, who last brought us the luscious “Far From Heaven,” now gives us an art film inspired by the many lives of Bob Dylan.  Both are very different films and both are equally disappointing.

Temple’s new rock doc is similar in style to his well-known Sex Pistols documentary “The Filth and the Fury.”  He’s still trying to ‘wow’ us with randomly placed images and interviews with unexpected people in odd locations.  His penchant for striving toward ‘alternative’ documentary filmmaking leaves us further away from his subject.  Temple strangely chooses to use very little footage of Strummer until late in the film when ‘The Mescaleros’ bring forth a new rejuvenated chapter in Strummers musical life.  By this time it is too late to get our attention back.  The interviews consist of a few close friends from Strummers past, but are peppered with pointless interviews with fans like Bono and Johnny Depp.  Frankly, I don’t care what Bono thinks about Joe Strummer.  We all know he was incredible.  That is why we came to see the film.  How about interviews with family, friends and peers?  And, Julian, please give us lower thirds next time around.  It is very frustrating for a viewer to have to guess who is speaking onscreen and what their relationship is to the rock legend.  There is something to be said for classic documentary filmmaking.  An interesting subject should make for a compelling film without too many bells and whistles.  Great footage and interviews with those close to Strummer should have done it.  Instead I found myself wondering how Temple did the impossible by making a boring film about such a fascinating man.

“I’m Not There” is not a documentary and never claims to be based on Bob Dylan’s life.  Director Todd Haynes takes a different approach by following several separate storylines in different time periods and locations but all with main characters that are Dylan-like.  The technique is a bit similar to Haynes “Velvet Goldmine” where main characters were obviously based on David Bowie and Iggy Pop but went by different character names.  This method of storytelling is meant to take us through the many stages of Dylan’s career and represent his timelessness as a songwriter, however it all ends up being a big hodgepodge of ideas and vignettes and never works as a whole.  Pieces of it work better than others.  The always compelling Cate Blanchett is remarkable as the Judd Quinn version of Dylan.  She smugly wanders through a stark black and white vision of the sixties struggling with his meteoric rise to stardom.  I could have watched an entire film with Blanchett as the real Dylan coping with the pressures of being a hero and people looking at him to change the world.  Instead we cut to another vignette where Richard Gere portrays Billy the Kid in a western town that looks like Cirque de Soliel mistakenly wandered onto the set of Deadwood.  

What Billy the Kid and giraffes meandering through fictional towns has anything to do with Bob Dylan I do not know.  I was inspired to do a little bit of research after viewing the film and found that Bob Dylan once played Billy the Kid in a film called “Alias”.  This is not good enough.  While I do appreciate a filmmaker that does not spoon feed his audience and tries to challenge us, I think it’s the mark of poor storytelling if the film requires extensive research beforehand in order to ‘get it’.  Todd Haynes always thinks outside of the box and gives us something different to look at and think about.  This is what attracts me to his films and why I will continue to go see his work.  Unfortunately, this time around he missed the mark and, as with Temple’s “The Future Is Unwritten,” leaves his audience cold and feeling even more of a stranger to their beloved rock heroes.

Once

by Melissa Cruz

The summer is pretty much over and as always it went by too fast. Once again, I didn't get a chance to go to the beach or go camping or have that barbecue. I did, however, spend quite a lot of time at the movies. Yes, the summer was filled with giant ka-boom blockbusters, lots of chuckles and lots of buttery popcorn and diabetes sized cherry cokes. I must admit I did check out almost every big budget explosion movie and every goofy yuck yuck film and I enjoyed all of them. Let's run down the list, shall we?

"Ocean's Thirteen" was forgettable, but amusing while it lasted and everyone was just so handsome and cool! "Transformers" was a wonderfully extravagant amusement park ride. Big robots go boom!!   "Live Free Die Hard" brought me back to when I was thirteen and had a hopeless crush on Bruce Willis. This summer he proved he's still got it. Meow! And both "Knocked Up" and "Superbad" made me crack up. So, what to do when you've been to the multiplex every week this summer checking out every big budget film available? Treat yourself to an indie flick. Venturing to an 'art house' to see a little known film made on a shoestring budget used to be my favorite pastime; yet I can't remember the last time I did that. I was overdue.

I decided to check out "Once," this season's 'little indie that could.' It was highly recommended to me by my good friend Steve, who I'm sure I've mentioned in previous articles. He rocks and if he recommends something that he claims to be right up my alley, he is usually right. I remember Steve mentioning this film to me around June, so I was pleasantly surprised when I saw that it was miraculously still playing at the Landmark Sunshine Theater on Houston Street. It's one of those little miracle movies that has managed to make some money and stay in theaters for a while solely based on really great word of mouth. Huzzah! I love when that happens.

"Once" is a lovely film that plays more like a poem than your average movie. It's a beautiful and unexpected love story (here's the right up my alley part) and it's set to music.

The film tells the story of a struggling street musician and a flower salesgirl, and musician in her own right, who ends up being a great force of influence and inspiration. The premise seems like your fairly typical 'boy meets girl' story, however quickly reveals itself as a mature piece about emotionally complex characters. The performances of Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová are wonderful. Their chemistry makes them a pleasure to watch, but what really drives this film is its music. Director John Carey has chosen a unique way to tell this story by having most of the characters communicate with each other through their music. While there are important pieces of dialogue, these scenes lead up to live performances that move the emotion of the film along. I loved the fact that Carey chose to place all of these performances in realistic settings. From the opening scene of Glen passionately singing on an empty street to the gorgeous pivotal duet between Glen and Markéta in a music shop, down to the climatic recording sessions, these characters and situations are one hundred percent believable. I also admire Carey's decision to film the musical scenes completely live and to show them in their entirety.   It's a very bold move and a creative way to develop characters.

"Once" celebrates the power of music, which has strangely been a recurring theme in a lot of my writing as of late.   Although it's a very different movie, it gave me the same feeling I had when I saw "High Fidelity."   Before I saw that film I thought I was the only person on the planet that best communicated through playing someone a song or making them a mix tape.   "Once" also explores how people relate to one another and how music can play a very powerful role in that communication.   I highly recommend it for those hopeless romantics, those hopeless musicians and those ready to trade in a few explosions for a soulful musical celebration.