(no subject)
I don't think you guys knew what you were getting yourselves into. I'm really long-winded.
Paper Heart, 2009
Nicholas Jasenovec
2.5/5
Paper Heart goes for the rather obvious brand of "quirky indie charm" that Michael Cera is associated with, but misses the mark. We have plenty of self-aware awkwardness and realistic blunderings, but we fail to spend enough time with any major character to become invested in or adequately charmed by them.
Paper Heart blends documentary with scripted narrative in an uncommon if not entirely unique way. Performer Charlyne Yi and her friend/director Nick Jasenovec are making a documentary about true love -- which Yi does not believe in. She real-life interviews real-life friends and strangers about love, what it means and feels like, and how you know when it happens. In the process of making this documentary Yi "meets" and "starts dating" her real-life boyfriend, the adorable Michael Cera, and the documentary takes on a new focus.
The first failing is an almost complete lack of introduction to Charlyne Yi. The film opens with a painfully long segment of Yi basically doing a terrible job at interviewing people on the street in Vegas. We see very brief clips of a poorly lit Yi performing mediocre (but well-received) comedy in a very small club, we see her interviewing friends, and then begins the "traveling around making a documentary" part of the film. We know virtually nothing about her or her personality.
This makes it seem a little implausible when awkward, plain-looking Charlyne meets celebrity Michael Cera at a party and he immediately begins to pursue her. Obviously she has some appeal since the relationship is not fictional, but we haven't had the chance to figure out what that appeal is. We are left thinking "Really, Mike? Really?" And then, to add insult to injury, the chemistry between the two (perhaps because Yi is a comedian and not an actor?) is not at all what you'd hope for from a real couple. Their interactions sometimes feel forced and uncomfortable. Yi resists the way-out-of-her-league relationship so adamantly that her affection and vulnerability in the final act seem to come out of nowhere.
Despite the film's failure at character development, it certainly has strengths. Even the scripted scenes feel so thoroughly "documentary" that I didn't realize just how much was scripted until the credits, when I saw that the director is played by an actor. The whole time I thought it was the real director!
The interviews, whether with the charming collection of B-list celebrities (Demitri Martin, Seth Rogan, Martin Starr,) or with real-life couples, children, and divorcées, have real resonance. The highlight of these interviews are the puppet segments, in which Yi reenacts stories told by the interviewees with stylized stick-and-paper puppets. This convention could have been established sooner, but the first instance is executed with such skill and unapologetic confidence that we don't question its necessity.
Some of my favorite moments of the film show the documentary-making process. (In the biz we call that "reflexive documentary.") Cera in particuar skillfully harnesses the genuine awkwardness of being filmed at tender moments. Looking over at the director after kissing Yi, or asking "do you guys need to take my mic?" at the end of a date, followed by a long moment of avoiding eye contact while the soundman unthreads the mic cable from his clothing. Conversations between Yi and the deftly-acted director provide a context and relationship that humanizes her, which is important because his patient, affectionate prodding might be the only way we ever know what's going on emotionally with stiff Yi.
The ending, a puppet action sequence starting Yi, has zero emotional resonance and feels tacked on.
Overall I'd say Paper Heart is a failure, it completely falls down in the areas it tries hardest. But it's certainly an enjoyable watch, especially if you dig cutie-pie Michael Cera, artsy stick puppets, or self-aware hipsters in general.
Oh, and if you have the DVD in your hands watch the exta feature "Love interviews with the comedians" and skip the rest.
Where the Wild Things Are, 2009
Spike Jonze
4.5/5
I'll admit that Where the Wild Things Are is slightly disappointing, but what adaptation of a beloved book isn't? Where the Wild Things Are handily achieves what I think is the most important feat for a book adaptation: It makes the story its own. The film has its own story to tell, its own agenda, and its own means to that end.
I don't talk to other people about movies much, but Damian apparently does. He told me that he heard two different stories about Where the Wild Things Are. Either it's a movie for kids that holds no interest for adults, or it's a movie for adults with no interest for children. I wouldn't say either, but the latter makes more sense. That first opinion obviously came from someone who was never a child. Or who doesn't have feelings. One of the two.
The emotional resonance of the film (which it has -- more than it knows what to do with) comes from the adult perspective of childhood. It is a complex treatise on loneliness, power over oneself, and the frustration of immaturity, of lacking the emotional vocabulary to interact with the people you love. It recalls the singular emotional purity of childhood, which we can only appreciate now that we don't have it anymore.
Since I'm not a child, I can't say that it doesn't appeal to them too. It's also a movie about furry monster suits and jumping really high and getting mad at your sister and her dumb mean friends.
The film seems to lose focus in the last third. It has a resonant clarity at first which gets muddled at some point. Maybe that's on purpose, Max's wonderfully simple new life becomes complicated by the tumultuous relationships around him, or some bullshit like that. In practice I just found myself unsure of what was happening, or why characters were behaving the way they were.
The ending lacks some of the closure that it seems to think it has. Max has clearly developed, but none of the other characters seem to. We have no reason to believe they won't go straight back to their own conflicts as if Max had never arrived. Unless I missed something.
The acting throughout is superb, particularly little Max Records who has a genuine vulnerability few adult actors achieve. Aesthetically the film is perfect, gorgeous sets and locations with perfectly stylized structures straight from a child's imagination, with a realistic edge. (I often found myself admiring how filthy Max's costume was.) The music is transportive, adding an important dimension so powerful that the film leans on it at times, and gets away with it.
Where the Wild Things Are is not as good as it could be, but it's unrealistic to expect "as good as it could be" from any book adaptation, much less one so well-loved. Where the Wild Things Are is a touching little film that will bear enough re-watchings to be worth buying.
Sita Sings the Blues, 2008
Nina Paley
4.5/5
Sita Sings the Blues, an animated musical retelling of the Ramayana, is absolutely remarkable. It eases fluidly from one animation style to another in a way that feels organic to the story. Even an unexpected non-narrative psychedelic segment halfway through manages to make sense. Each lush, colorful style is so distinct that I was sure they were all made by different animators, but in fact the whole thing comes straight from the mind and hand of Nina Paley, who produced, wrote, animated, edited, and generally birthed the film. This careful, thoughtful film manages to feel effortless. The clarity and fluidity of the story clearly stem from Paley's strong, singular creative vision.
The high points are the shadow puppet segments, starring three contemporary Indians trying to recall the details of the Ramayana. According to Paley she simply got these three friends together in a recording studio and asked them to, unscripted, retell the Ramayana. What results is a charmingly bumbling, argumentative narration as the three try to reconcile their own faulty memories and regional variations. The accompanying animation is hilarious, with Paley literally animating what is being said, even contradictory statements.
Second best are the musical sequences, when Sita croons soulfully about love and heartbreak. The music is actually original Annette Hanshaw recordings from the late 1920's or early 30's, and adds a texture and sincerity to the segments that will give you goosebumps.
Paley's own appearance in the film, in a series of segments that chronicle her own Indian heartbreak, (her husband moved to India for work and then broke up with her via email,) is without question the weakest link. The ugly, pale animation is out of place with the rest of the animation styles, and the story is not compelling enough to be worth it. It comes across as merely self-pitying, more therapeutic than artistically valuable. These segments are short and infrequent, however, and easy to ignore. I couldn't bear to knock more than half a point off the score, because these segments are so inconsequential and everything else so delightful.
Fortunately, the film is copyright free. (More accurately, it has a "Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike License.") When Paley had trouble getting the rights to use the Annette Hanshaw songs that the musical segments are based on, she basically gave up and decided to boycott the whole process. The film is available to watch for free online in several venues, and perhaps more interestingly can be used and reused in any way you see fit. Which means that sooner or later, somebody is going to edit together Only Sita Sings The Blues, omitting Paley's self-pitying autobiographical segments. And that film will truly be a masterwork.
You can stream or download Sita Sings the Blues here. (Which, for those of you who skipped the review, I really recommend you do.)
Paper Heart, 2009
Nicholas Jasenovec
2.5/5
Paper Heart goes for the rather obvious brand of "quirky indie charm" that Michael Cera is associated with, but misses the mark. We have plenty of self-aware awkwardness and realistic blunderings, but we fail to spend enough time with any major character to become invested in or adequately charmed by them.
Paper Heart blends documentary with scripted narrative in an uncommon if not entirely unique way. Performer Charlyne Yi and her friend/director Nick Jasenovec are making a documentary about true love -- which Yi does not believe in. She real-life interviews real-life friends and strangers about love, what it means and feels like, and how you know when it happens. In the process of making this documentary Yi "meets" and "starts dating" her real-life boyfriend, the adorable Michael Cera, and the documentary takes on a new focus.
The first failing is an almost complete lack of introduction to Charlyne Yi. The film opens with a painfully long segment of Yi basically doing a terrible job at interviewing people on the street in Vegas. We see very brief clips of a poorly lit Yi performing mediocre (but well-received) comedy in a very small club, we see her interviewing friends, and then begins the "traveling around making a documentary" part of the film. We know virtually nothing about her or her personality.
This makes it seem a little implausible when awkward, plain-looking Charlyne meets celebrity Michael Cera at a party and he immediately begins to pursue her. Obviously she has some appeal since the relationship is not fictional, but we haven't had the chance to figure out what that appeal is. We are left thinking "Really, Mike? Really?" And then, to add insult to injury, the chemistry between the two (perhaps because Yi is a comedian and not an actor?) is not at all what you'd hope for from a real couple. Their interactions sometimes feel forced and uncomfortable. Yi resists the way-out-of-her-league relationship so adamantly that her affection and vulnerability in the final act seem to come out of nowhere.
Despite the film's failure at character development, it certainly has strengths. Even the scripted scenes feel so thoroughly "documentary" that I didn't realize just how much was scripted until the credits, when I saw that the director is played by an actor. The whole time I thought it was the real director!
The interviews, whether with the charming collection of B-list celebrities (Demitri Martin, Seth Rogan, Martin Starr,) or with real-life couples, children, and divorcées, have real resonance. The highlight of these interviews are the puppet segments, in which Yi reenacts stories told by the interviewees with stylized stick-and-paper puppets. This convention could have been established sooner, but the first instance is executed with such skill and unapologetic confidence that we don't question its necessity.
Some of my favorite moments of the film show the documentary-making process. (In the biz we call that "reflexive documentary.") Cera in particuar skillfully harnesses the genuine awkwardness of being filmed at tender moments. Looking over at the director after kissing Yi, or asking "do you guys need to take my mic?" at the end of a date, followed by a long moment of avoiding eye contact while the soundman unthreads the mic cable from his clothing. Conversations between Yi and the deftly-acted director provide a context and relationship that humanizes her, which is important because his patient, affectionate prodding might be the only way we ever know what's going on emotionally with stiff Yi.
The ending, a puppet action sequence starting Yi, has zero emotional resonance and feels tacked on.
Overall I'd say Paper Heart is a failure, it completely falls down in the areas it tries hardest. But it's certainly an enjoyable watch, especially if you dig cutie-pie Michael Cera, artsy stick puppets, or self-aware hipsters in general.
Oh, and if you have the DVD in your hands watch the exta feature "Love interviews with the comedians" and skip the rest.
Where the Wild Things Are, 2009
Spike Jonze
4.5/5
I'll admit that Where the Wild Things Are is slightly disappointing, but what adaptation of a beloved book isn't? Where the Wild Things Are handily achieves what I think is the most important feat for a book adaptation: It makes the story its own. The film has its own story to tell, its own agenda, and its own means to that end.
I don't talk to other people about movies much, but Damian apparently does. He told me that he heard two different stories about Where the Wild Things Are. Either it's a movie for kids that holds no interest for adults, or it's a movie for adults with no interest for children. I wouldn't say either, but the latter makes more sense. That first opinion obviously came from someone who was never a child. Or who doesn't have feelings. One of the two.
The emotional resonance of the film (which it has -- more than it knows what to do with) comes from the adult perspective of childhood. It is a complex treatise on loneliness, power over oneself, and the frustration of immaturity, of lacking the emotional vocabulary to interact with the people you love. It recalls the singular emotional purity of childhood, which we can only appreciate now that we don't have it anymore.
Since I'm not a child, I can't say that it doesn't appeal to them too. It's also a movie about furry monster suits and jumping really high and getting mad at your sister and her dumb mean friends.
The film seems to lose focus in the last third. It has a resonant clarity at first which gets muddled at some point. Maybe that's on purpose, Max's wonderfully simple new life becomes complicated by the tumultuous relationships around him, or some bullshit like that. In practice I just found myself unsure of what was happening, or why characters were behaving the way they were.
The ending lacks some of the closure that it seems to think it has. Max has clearly developed, but none of the other characters seem to. We have no reason to believe they won't go straight back to their own conflicts as if Max had never arrived. Unless I missed something.
The acting throughout is superb, particularly little Max Records who has a genuine vulnerability few adult actors achieve. Aesthetically the film is perfect, gorgeous sets and locations with perfectly stylized structures straight from a child's imagination, with a realistic edge. (I often found myself admiring how filthy Max's costume was.) The music is transportive, adding an important dimension so powerful that the film leans on it at times, and gets away with it.
Where the Wild Things Are is not as good as it could be, but it's unrealistic to expect "as good as it could be" from any book adaptation, much less one so well-loved. Where the Wild Things Are is a touching little film that will bear enough re-watchings to be worth buying.
Sita Sings the Blues, 2008
Nina Paley
4.5/5
Sita Sings the Blues, an animated musical retelling of the Ramayana, is absolutely remarkable. It eases fluidly from one animation style to another in a way that feels organic to the story. Even an unexpected non-narrative psychedelic segment halfway through manages to make sense. Each lush, colorful style is so distinct that I was sure they were all made by different animators, but in fact the whole thing comes straight from the mind and hand of Nina Paley, who produced, wrote, animated, edited, and generally birthed the film. This careful, thoughtful film manages to feel effortless. The clarity and fluidity of the story clearly stem from Paley's strong, singular creative vision.
The high points are the shadow puppet segments, starring three contemporary Indians trying to recall the details of the Ramayana. According to Paley she simply got these three friends together in a recording studio and asked them to, unscripted, retell the Ramayana. What results is a charmingly bumbling, argumentative narration as the three try to reconcile their own faulty memories and regional variations. The accompanying animation is hilarious, with Paley literally animating what is being said, even contradictory statements.
Second best are the musical sequences, when Sita croons soulfully about love and heartbreak. The music is actually original Annette Hanshaw recordings from the late 1920's or early 30's, and adds a texture and sincerity to the segments that will give you goosebumps.
Paley's own appearance in the film, in a series of segments that chronicle her own Indian heartbreak, (her husband moved to India for work and then broke up with her via email,) is without question the weakest link. The ugly, pale animation is out of place with the rest of the animation styles, and the story is not compelling enough to be worth it. It comes across as merely self-pitying, more therapeutic than artistically valuable. These segments are short and infrequent, however, and easy to ignore. I couldn't bear to knock more than half a point off the score, because these segments are so inconsequential and everything else so delightful.
Fortunately, the film is copyright free. (More accurately, it has a "Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike License.") When Paley had trouble getting the rights to use the Annette Hanshaw songs that the musical segments are based on, she basically gave up and decided to boycott the whole process. The film is available to watch for free online in several venues, and perhaps more interestingly can be used and reused in any way you see fit. Which means that sooner or later, somebody is going to edit together Only Sita Sings The Blues, omitting Paley's self-pitying autobiographical segments. And that film will truly be a masterwork.
You can stream or download Sita Sings the Blues here. (Which, for those of you who skipped the review, I really recommend you do.)