Showing posts with label stanley kubrick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stanley kubrick. Show all posts

Thursday, October 20, 2016

I Have Something For You to Watch on Halloween

One of the more memorable scenes from the film. Can't tell you what's going on though, and it's hurting my soul.
The VVitch came out of nowhere, and I do mean nowhere. Shot in some desolate woods in Canada over 25 days by a freshman director who looks like he just stumbled out of the most hipster hipster bar in Los Angeles, I had heard things about it. Mostly that it was legit the most terrifying, unsettling film that will make your blood run cold. I was assuming this was coming from people who had never seen The Shining, or Rosemary's Baby, or The Exorcist. But now that I too have seen it, I will gladly put The VVitch into that group. I've read Arthur Miller's The Crucible more times than I care to remember and the Salem Witch Trials were never handled with that much honesty and brevity since. 

Does this not remind you of a certain famous painting?
But this is not about that. And the parallels between it and the New Testament were so subtle, nuanced, and brilliant it made me think; 'wow, hipsters can direct'. Robert Eggers, barely 32 (so exactly my age) cast a film with an all British (with the exception of one Scot) cast for this unsettling horror-type movie. I'm hesitant to call it a horror movie, even though that's how it's been marketed. To me, it's a period piece; a bleak drama much like There Will Be Blood with a lot of seriously disturbing images and themes. This is not a film for your parents or for the faint of heart, seriously you've been warned. 
I am not going to give away any spoilers, what I will give you is the premise. Set maybe a few years prior to Salem, a Puritan family is banished for the patriarch's disagreements with his elders about interpretations in the Bible. Defiant, he moves his family; wife Catherine, daughter Thomasin, son Caleb, and two really annoying twins around 5 or so to the wilderness...oh and there's a newborn who's pivotal to the story. What he was thinking I don't know, but it's his pride that spurred the journey and that's already giving stuff away. Now, anyone who is a horror purist knows that only bad shit can happen to you in isolation in the woods. The daughter Thomasin is the central character, who is about to reach 'womanhood' i.e. puberty, and the parents discuss selling her to another family so she can properly deal with it, which was not uncommon at the time. They are completely isolated save for their farm animals one of which is a surly black goat with giant horns called Black Phillip. The twins claim that he speaks to them and they speak back, and as we know, when animals do that and only little kids notice it, it's a common horror trope. But then it launches into a whirlwind of bizarre and such visceral happenings that you WILL have trouble sleeping at night. Even though you live in the middle of the city and don't own any goats. 

Black Phillip
What is beautiful about the film is the pacing (borrowed no doubt from Ingmar Bergman) where it emphasizes the feeling of degradation and isolation and eventually hopelessness and loss of faith. The other major aesthetic (borrowed from Kubrick no doubt) is the decision to shoot exclusively with natural light. And anyone who has ever made a movie, whether a 3-hour opus or a student film knows that negating your Omni's is basically film suicide. But to get the authentic feel the director strove for, it paid off.
Again, can't say what's happening. It's not a cliché exorcism I can tell you that much.
Now, you're probably thinking, they are in the wilderness near creepy woods, the film is called The VVitch...there's a witch in the woods, bam, you solved the puzzle...NOPE! And if you want to know what's actually up, guess what, WATCH IT. Stay home from the lame Halloween party you were invited to where everyone will be dressed as either Donald Trump or someone from Orange is the New Black, and just cuddle up with a pet or a stuffed animal like a child because no matter how tough you think you are, this movie will crawl under your skin and scare the life out of you. 

The climax of the film...have I left a good cliffhanger?
It was so impressive to see a film that was not only shot for under 2 million, made the rounds at Sundance and got picked up by A24, but that resurrected a genre that's basically become a parody of itself. If we label it a horror film, it's definitely up there with the aforementioned Rosemary's Baby, The Shining, etc. And it was directed by a guy who's basically the bastard child of Polanski, Bergman, and Kubrick; not a bad label to have. AND it's his first film. This was such a relief and single handedly restored my faith in the genre while making me slightly suicidal. Just kidding, but it did stick with me for so long and so strongly that I'm still not able to shake it off. 
Oh and in its defense, people were wondering why the fuck it's spelled the way it's spelled and that's because that's what pamphlets that made rounds in the colonies around that time looked like when they were asking people to beware of VVitches. It's not a hipster thing...well maybe a little bit. There I just gave you Halloween plans, you're welcome. 

Trailer below. 


Saturday, July 30, 2016

Let's Talk About 'The Shining' #Kubrick

First scene and I already don't trust her, even though she's the 'victim'
It's Saturday night, I cancelled my plans so that I could watch The Shining by myself...at night. This is crazy for many reasons, I should be around three-dimensional people or so they keep telling me, it's night time, and though I've seen the movie, oh I don't know, a BILLION times, it still scares the living christ out of me. I recently went to a Kubrick exhibit, granted it was almost exactly the same as the Kubrick exhibit I went to see with a bunch of former NYU folk at LACMA in LA, but it's still great. There's always something new to learn about Kubrick. Although The Shining is not my favorite film of his by a long shot, it does basically create the blueprint of modern horror, of haptic psychological thrillers, and mysterious happenings and endings; open-ended storylines, bizarre manifestations, and best of all...NO JUMP SCARES. 
I'm writing as I'm watching it, so let's examine a few things. The film starts off with the already terrifying looking Shelley Duvall (Wendy Torrance) shoving some unimportant exposition down our throats that give us an insight into the family. The husband Jack Torrance (Jack Nicholson) doesn't drink because he had a violent episode with the kid in the family Danny after a few too many adult pops. 
So immediately you're thinking, she's going to be trouble, something's up with her...and when they check into the Overlook Hotel, she's just a little too excited and too nice. So we focus our attention on her being possessed by a baby killing demon or something. Kubrick has a thing for agoraphobia. And the first scenes at the Overlook Hotel play to that brilliantly. It's a huge open space that when people talk to each other, there are echoes. This comes back into play later, but not before Kubrick turns the atmosphere on its side when it is revealed that the Torrance family will only be using this tiny room in the corner of the hotel as living quarters. 
The first serious scare that we get is when Danny is playing darts in the game room as his parents take a tour of the hotel. We hear a weird meandering noise, that's basically the only way I can explain it, it's not music, but it's so ominous it's scary on its own. He turns his head and instead of immediately pointing out his POV, Kubrick meditates on Danny's reaction which is stoic AF. That's when we see those twins for the first time. Strangely enough had that noise not been playing in the background, we might think that they are just guests leaving the Overlook just like everyone else, but they just stand there. The longer they do, the scarier they become. Now we have horror movies where apparitions jump out at people grab them, push them down stairs etc. But admit it, the scariest thing you can experience is feeling like you're being watched. 
Before I continue, I'm not going to incorporate ANYTHING about Stephen King's novel into this. I'm judging the movie and the movie only. You would think that Kubrick's brilliant blue-print and first and only horror film would change the landscape, but there's a reason why it still scares the pants off even the most hardened Clint Eastwood type grown man, because nothing has ever been more frightening. 
The scene that everyone remembers, even if they haven't seen the movie, and that has been the only take away from The Shining that filmmakers use as a horror trope today.
At this time I'd like to defer to one of the scariest moments in my opinion, one that involves one character, and it seems like that's where his biggest thrills are. It's not Jack confronting Wendy with the infamous 'Give me the bat' routine, nor Jack discovering what's in room 237, though that is pretty gross/horrifying. It's when Jack is upset because Wendy blamed him for being rough with Danny again, though it was actually one of the ghosts. A tracking cam, which is so important in this movie moves backwards as he walks towards it unbelievably pissed off, screaming to himself. That noise again permeates through the halls, and you realize at that moment it's not the ghosts of the Overlook we should be scared of, but Jack. In that, Kubrick turns the film from supernatural horror to psychological horror. 
I'm sure I'm not giving you anything you haven't already heard in the film Room 237, but I'm trying to stay away from things that are too easy like the damn hedge maze, the scooter scene down the hallway, etc. Yes those are iconic shots that Kubrick so brilliantly messes with before the payoff. If you pay attention, Danny rides around on that scooter about 5 different times before those two girls appear to him again. And Wendy and Danny take a morose stroll through the hedge maze for fun before it ever becomes a game of kill your kid with an axe. 

Perhaps a symbol of the labyrinthine craziness of Jack Torrance's mind...I don't know, ask the weirdo's from Room 237.
This movie is so terrifying because it literally messes with your head. When we first meet Dick Hallorann, there's something off about him too. Kubrick decides not to distinguish between who is the scary influence and who is the innocent. He confuses you to basically be on edge about the whole thing. It's pretty brilliant. Kubrick loves to meditate on every scene, stretching every scene makes it somehow more frightening. 
Also, to finish off because I'm rambling, and some of my favorite parts are coming up; what is it that makes this movie fucking shit balls scary? Different from all other horror films ever? It's the setting, not the characters. Not the humans, not the ghosts, not the weird hallucinations, or people's ability to 'shine'. 

Filming the 'give me the bat' scene. 
The Overlook Hotel itself symbolizes people's fear of being alone in a large ominous place, it's uncomfortable, it's disconcerting, and in the case of The Shining, it drives people completely out of their minds. I don't even find the Wendy chase sequences that frightening except for her face with the bulging eyes and her clenching a knife like she's doing shake weight exercises, nor do I find Jack Nicholson's thousand yard stare that particularly uneasy. It's the scenes that are absolutely quiet, eerie, and you know that something is just not right. The music is great tonality for that. But what are we most afraid of? I'll just speak for myself, but it's long hallways. Swear to god. The Overlook is full of them, whether they be in the the hotel itself or in the hedge maze. The unknown behind every corner is truly something that is universally terrifying, and my opinion of why Kubrick kept the film so open ended, is because it's not about what actually the fuck is going on. The sound of the typewriter, the tracking shot of the scooter, the look on Dick Hallorann's face when Danny shines to him. Those are the images, sounds, and occurrences that sink their teeth under your skin. It's a weird setting for a weird film, and it's not supposed to make sense; it's supposed to scare the living shit out of you. Mission accomplished. 


Sunday, July 26, 2015

Happy Kubrick Day!


Kubrick was a prodigy from the age of two. At 20 he had achieved more than most hope to do in a lifetime, and none of us were prepared for what he had up his sleeve next. 
Every once in a while someone comes along and changes the scope of the entire industry in which they practice. I honestly don't think there will ever be someone more unique and important to the landscape of cinema than Stanley Kubrick. On this day in 1928, in a poor neighborhood in Brooklyn, Stanley was born to well-to-do middle class parents. He was a bit of a genius from the word go, and though he never excelled in school (in fact would regularly cheat off of his fellow classmates because as he said 'he just wasn't interested) he was a prodigy. By 18 he had quit school and was hustling chess in Washington Square Park, and eventually made enough to buy his own camera. On April 12, 1945, when the world mourned the loss of Franklin D. Roosevelt, Stanley, at 16 captured one of the world's most famous photographs. A newspaper vendor sitting in his kiosk hear the West Village surrounded by the headline that one of the greatest presidents was no more. This catapulted his career, and by 19 he was working for Life magazine. He was taking some of the most beautiful and timeless photos that usually it takes a few degrees and decades to achieve in terms of talent. 
The photograph Kubrick took at 16 that landed him a job with Life Magazine.
By his mid-twenties, his parents sold their life insurance and coupled with his chess winnings, Kubrick was finally able to afford to make his first film; a boxing caper called The Day of the Fight. It was pretty abysmal as a freshman filmmaking effort but started to get him noticed and within two years he was signed to a small but reputable production company for which he made Killer's Kiss, The Killing, and Fear and Desire. Now, I know these films sound like nothing you've heard of. I'd like to think they were basically Stanley in training. But it they were instrumental in getting him noticed by Hollywood and they hired him to direct the much troubled production of Spartacus starring Kirk Douglas. Stanley would later say it was the most difficult experience of his life (second only to Lolita) because he was so stagnated by the studios, and being a child prodigy and an unquestionable genius, it wasn't easy for him having everyone else tell him what to do, especially when he was the director. 
Every image Kubrick put on screen has become iconic and unforgettable. This is the infamous still from Lolita when Delores Hayes is first introduced. 
The pain paid off and gave him license to finally do what he wanted on his own terms, and thus starts what we now know as Kubrick the auteur. His next film, was also arguably his most controversial, adapted from the equally controversial novel by Vladimir Nabokov; Lolita and ending with the insanely polarizing Eyes Wide Shut. There's my history lesson for ya'll. If I start blabbing on about Kubrick I'll never stop, so in the interest of saving time I'd like to touch upon just one of his films how ever hard that might be for me because every single one is so unbearably brilliant and creative, it literally hurts my soul that I can't talk about all of them. But as I always say, the films speak for themselves, so after you read this, go ahead and rent 2001: A Space Odyssey, Full Metal Jacket, or my personal favorite, Barry Lyndon and do yourself a favor. 
The film I've chosen to talk about is Eyes Wide Shut. I wanted to challenge myself and not gush about a film that I'm deeply in love with nor indulge in the aesthetic brilliance of Dr. Strangelove. I'll just speak from the heart on this one. 

The masks we were as adults, quite literally translated in Eyes Wide Shut with haunting imagery.
Eyes Wide Shut was Kubrick's last film, and also arguably his most polarizing, and what a way to go. It was released posthumously, and my dad and I snuck in to a packed theater and sat on the stairs to watch it in 1999. Now, I know it's the last film you want to see with your parents, and at first I have to say the 16-year-old me didn't really dig it, what 16 year old would? One time, an ex-boyfriend of mine once asked; 'what's that film about?' I kind of ignored that question because how can that be answered without a full on dissertation? I think Scorsese describes it best; it's a film about illusion. The way it's photographed suggests that everything might not be in happening in the conscious world. It seems like New York, but it's surreal in a way, it seems like your wife, but what is she hiding behind that smirky stare, what is she trying to tell you? It's that dingy grey area that we all ignore within a relationship. It's not just secrets and lies, and its not disillusion with the person that you once fell in love with. It's us as human beings and that very grey area as to whether we are inherently good or bad. Do we act upon urges? Do we almost? Is that almost just as bad? That's just scraping the tip of the iceberg. Let's talk about aesthetics. 
Both Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman as principal actors gave the performance of their careers, and were basically put through hell in order to do so. I'm sure that considering those two were still married at the time went home at the end of every day and asked themselves those very questions that they had to explore as the fictional Dr. and Mrs. Hartford. It's not an unraveling or a disillusion of marriage; in fact it's quite the opposite. In the end the two decide to stay together for what reason? It's something we can't possibly rationalize or reconcile, all of which is in tune with the whole mystery aspect of every choice each character makes. We don't know why Bill Hartford goes to that infamous sex party. Perhaps it was because his manhood was threatened, perhaps it was in retribution to his wife telling him that she once lusted after a stranger even while having sex with him. But the truth of the matter is that we don't know. Kubrick is not one to give you easy answers or a way out. 
In my opinion, Kubrick is telling us that we will never be perfect people, and in fact there is no such thing, and even though we think we might lead the ideal life; be a good wife to a successful husband, live in opulence comfortably on the Upper East Side, and on the surface have everything we might ever want or need, below the surface is a festering stench of mendacity, insincerity, and frustration with all of that perfection. Perhaps he's saying that we are all inherently bad people, and we don't act on those impulses that we desperately want to because of one reason or another; in this case it's to save a marriage, but the irony is, the marriage is not even one worth saving. 

Kubrick slowly meditates on this static image of Alice Hartford (Nicole Kidman) as if to scream at his audience; what exactly is behind that devilish smile of hers??
My favorite scene is when Bill and Alice (Cruise and Kidman respectively) smoke pot and she in a haze of anger and frustration fueled by a drug-induced frenzy finally tells her husband exactly what she thinks of him, and of the life that they've built together. 'If you men only knew' she bellows. And the expression on Bill's face says it all; he finally realizes that he was never a husband, and barely even a man and has no right to pontificate about the human condition.
Back to aesthetics, because Kubrick started out as a photographer, he knew exactly how to window dress the mise-en-scene with clever lighting so that everything would appear ominous and somehow dreamlike.  Bill and Alice weren't living a dream, they were living a nightmare which interspersed itself constantly with their waking life of banal dinner parties, small talk, and that daughter of their that neither of them really pay attention to, and once the two worlds collide, the truth comes out. Anyway, that's my half baked theory. And the beauty of the Kubrick catalogue, everyone has one. Watch Room 237; it's a documentary about everyone in the woodworks that has some kind of weird theory about The Shining. And considering it was made in 1980 and people are still arguing about it today as if it was the holy gospel, that shows you how timeless and untouchable every single one of his films was. That's the genius of Kubrick, and that is why his presence in cinema changed its history. Happy birthday sir. Instead of shy away from controversy, he embraced it. And in doing so was met with a great deal of opposition, but in the end we can all acknowledge that he was the one who won. From a satire about the Red Scare to a romantic interpretation of a love story between a middle aged man and a 12 year old girl, Kubrick found the beauty, the comedy, and the pathos in every story he retold. There are a lot of imitators, but there will always only be one.

Below...clips to drive my point home.






Kubrick...