My Feels on the Class Films*

*These feels are subject to change, especially since I am a fickle woman.

We have watch several different kinds of films in class.  I liked quite a few of them; pretty sure there was one that I loathed, but I do not know how to rate them on a numbered scale.  I think it would make more sense for me to talk about them in the order we watched them so that I can recollect my reactions upon watching each one.

1. Sherlock Jr. (1924) - this was a fun one.  Not particularly that high on my list, but I did enjoy it.  As far as slapstick comedy goes, it was definitely more enjoyable than Family Guy.

2. Freaks (1932) - this was the first film of this class where I got emotionally invested in what was going on.  It is a crooked, clever sort of horror film; moderately high up on my list.

3. Detour (1945) - this one was a letdown.  I really like film noir, but this particular film was boring and the main character was so whiny.  I think I initially hated the femme fatale character, but looking back, I think I was just annoyed that the film was not as "cool" as I expected, especially since this unit was covered on my birthday.  This is very low on my list.

4. Awara (1951) - I really liked this film.  One of my favorites in the class, this film was pretty to look at, the characters were interesting, the story was overall well developed, and the best part was the music.  I still don't agree that Awara is necessarily a musical, but the songs were nice anyway.  I want the soundtrack.

5. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly (1967) - this one was...alright.  Initially, I really liked it, but now that I think about it, I don't like it as much as I did.  I remember it being a lot slower, and while it is a very good Western (a terribly underrated genre), I also remember not focusing on it very well while watching it.  It might just be me, though.

6. Killer of Sheep (1977) - I don't know what to say about this film.  I didn't hate it; it was a strange film, though.  Rating it is difficult because I can't find much else to say about it, so I'll just place it in the corner of my list until it decides to tell me what it wants.

7. Spoorloos (1988) - I have a love/hate relationship with this film.  I want to love it because the premise is so interesting and the characters are very intriguing, but they also bother me, especially the "bad guy" of the movie.  I want to like him, but he irritates me for some unknown reason; maybe it's the way he's written?  This film is the see-saw on my list.

8. My Own Private Idaho (1991) - another love/hate relationship, although I know the reason for this one.  I want to like the film for its originality and creativity, but I have seen so many different queer films that this one seems kind of bland in comparison.  Not a bad film; not that low on my list, but I do think there are much better queer films out there.  Here's a short list of better ones (because I happen to love queer cinema):
The Trip (2002)
Wilde (1997)
Bad Education (2002)
Torch Song Trilogy (1988)
Maurice (1987)
Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil (1997)
NOT David's Birthday (2009; that one is so boring)
Okay, I should stop talking now...

9. O Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000) - my other favorite from this class.  This film had very nice cinematography, a great cast, and AGAIN with the awesome music!  The atmosphere of the entire movie was breathtaking as well.

10. Wendy and Lucy (2008) - I liked this film.  Just liked it; I was afraid that it was going to turn into one of those "art" films that clearly try too hard, but no.  This movie defied my expectations in a good way.  It's sort of in the middle of the list.

11. Moonrise Kingdom (2012) - I really liked this film, too, mostly because it was a nice, little sort of whimsical escape for me from the fact that we are near finals and I don't feel prepared for any of it.  Yet, this film made me sad; I wish I could just up an leave my home. But no. Priorities.

12. Frances Ha (2012) - I want to like this film.  It is a good movie, but it kind of pissed me off; it was a reminder that we cannot just up and leave our homes and abandon our priorities.  It was a reminder that dreams are almost always compromised.  And this reminder came. Right. Near. Finals.  Thanks, Frances.  Thanks a lot.  This movie is only temporarily low on my list; it'll probably climb up once I start summer vacation.

Moonrise Kingdom: Voyeurism and Bummin' Cigarettes

This is a particular screenshot displays a wide shot of a woman, who is Suzy's mother, on her bike asking for a cigarette from a cop (Bruce Willis) who was smoking one next to his car.  There is a frame around the scenario in the shape of binocular eye-holes, because they are being watched by a little girl, Suzy, who is off-camera, making this a voyeuristic scene.

The two adults are centered in the binocular's frame, but they are far away.  The two adults are sort of close to each other, in how close they are standing/sitting near each other, and with the fact that Suzy's mother is taking a cigarette from the cop that he was already smoking.  Suzy's mother is also turned away slightly from Suzy's view; this is suggestive of some secretive behavior, as if she is trying to be careful not to be seen.  The cop in particular is partially hidden by the front of his car, and the word "Police" on the car is being blocked by a huge bush.  This could be read as a sign that justice is being breached in some way (hint hint).  There is also lighthouse cleverly placed more in the foreground and it is facing Suzy's mother and the cop, which is mimicking Suzy's position from where she is watching them.

Wendy and Lucy: Not Your Average Chick Flick

Wendy and Lucy (2008) is obviously a huge turn away from a typical Hollywood chick flick.  When I say "Hollywood chick flick", I am talking about the kind of film that is supposed to be all about how great it is to be a woman, but 90% of the time, that greatness only applies if you are white, rich and in high school or college, and your only goal in life is to feel pretty and get a hot boyfriend.  Clearly, this is not what Wendy and Lucy focuses on.

While Wendy's plot is very different from a typical Hollywood chick flick, I would like to focus on the technical, or cinematographic differences here, since that is a huge factor in why Wendy actually feels different from a traditional chick flick.

For starters, Wendy is very minimalistic.  Looking at a typical chick flick, say, Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, where noise is constantly playing in the background.  Usually, it's a combination of pop music and really loud background noises of cars or busy students walking through high school halls.  Wendy is a relatively quiet movie, and there is (nearly) no musical accompaniment.  Traditional chick flicks are also full of stark colors and have a crisp quality to them, whereas Wendy's images are muted, slightly grainy, and the camera is allowed to go in and out of focus at times.

Camera movement itself is also very restricted in Wendy and Lucy; there are several scenes, especially when Wendy is the only character on screen, where the camera is fixated, and the scenario is left free to move along.  Characters and props move in and out of frame and focus.  Contrast that to the traditional chick flicks, in which the camera is always focused on a character, or the characters are almost always right smack in the middle of the frame.  The camera will also follow characters in order to keep everything related to the context in the frame.

With these qualities, traditional Hollywood chick flicks have a romanticized and "plastic" feel to them.  Wendy and Lucy, on the other hand, is a much calmer, quieter film, which helps it mirror real life.  This isn't to say that romanticized chick flicks are "bad", but it is nice to have a reminder of what life really can be like, especially for young women.

They See Me Yodelin', They Hatin'... All Just Because I'm White and Wealthy

I was sad to see John as a bad guy...he's such a good man...

O Brother, Where Art Thou (2000) is an interesting and witty blend of Ancient Greek literary myth and traditional American folk culture.  The visual symbolism is especially strong; for example, there is a strong relationship between the color white and wealth, with wealth cleverly not being limited to monetary value.

Let's start with the main boys running away from prison.  While resting in the woods, Pete finds that Everett (George Clooney) stole from his cousin.  Even though Pete's cousin betrayed the boys, he gets very upset with Everett anyway.  The camera zooms in and focuses on these two as they start a yelling match while Delmar continuously offers some cooked gopher to them until gospel-like singing slowly creeps into the audio.  Everett hushes Pete as the camera circles around the three convicts and backs away, revealing a flood of church singers dressed in all white, heading towards a river for baptism.  The singing grows louder and clearer.  The camera moves upwards and behind the boys as they merge with the choir until they reach the river.  Here, Delmar and Pete allow themselves to be baptized; both are relieved to have their sins forgiven and are grateful for a "clean slate".  Pete and Delmar have gained hope and spiritual relief, which can be interpreted as a form of wealth.

Later on, the boys meet a wandering guitarist named Tommy, and decide to put together a musical "gig" to round up a few bucks from a radio host.  The camera makes a sort of long crane-shot and slowly pans downward to Everett and friends drivng up a dusty road and parking in front of a powdered-white shed.  The entire exterior of the shed is white, including the roof and door, and the interior is almost equally as pale.  This is the very building that the boys record the one song that ends up a huge hit and gets them pardoned from jail time at the end of the film, as well as making them a lot of money (well, that part is implied, anyway).  They have gained, at this point, a guarantee of monetary wealth (even though this is unknown to them).

Jumping ahead in O Brother, Everett, Delmar and Pete are traveling down a gravel road when they spot women bathing in a nearby stream.  This is where the film has an interesting take on wealth, since the boys begin to lose different forms of wealth.  Anyway, the women themselves are wearing mostly white.  The boys creep up to them into the stream, and Everett and Pete try to introduce themselves.  The women appear to not care as they just keep singing.  The camera makes various cuts to each of the boys as a woman seduces each of them; these cuts, added with the women's lulling song, keep up the hypnotizing mood of this scene, and the audience can see the boys falling completely under their spell.  Cut to Delmar lying down on a huge, flat rock with his limbs spread out, he wakes up confused and afraid.  He sees Everett lying across from him, but there is no Pete; only his clothes remain spread out.  Delmar frantically wakes Everett up, and while the two try to figure out what happened to Pete, they find a toad in his shirt.  Delmar automatically believes that Pete was turned into a toad and brings the amphibian with him while Everett tries to tell him otherwise as they escape the stream.  The boys have lost a friend (presumably) and a sense of hope, while gaining sadness, which can be seen as a negative form of wealth as well.

Everett and Delmar eventually meet Big Dan Teague (John Goodman), who is dressed in mostly white.  The two friends chat with him about Bible sales in a mostly white fine restaurant until Big Dan invites them to eat outside with him in order to discuss business venues some more.  Cut to the boys picnicking out next to a huge tree while Big Dan stands up, takes off his white jacket--a slight premonition that wealth is about to be lost--and breaks a large branch off the tree.  The boys expect that he's going to use this branch for a demonstration, but instead, Big Dan uses it to beat them into the ground and take all their money, killing "Pete" the Toad in the process.  It's pretty obvious what Delmar and Everett have lost here: actual money and a friend.

In a few scenes later, Everett runs into his ex-wife and children in a small shop.  This is where he

Yeah, I made a bad pun! So what? You wanna fight?!

confronts his ex-wife's fiance, Vernon Waldrip, who is conveniently dressed in all white.  He is a symbol of all the wealth that Everett has lost or has lacked: money, family and a loving partnership.  This walking reminder of his failure proceeds to get in a fight with Everett after Everett calls his ex-wife/Waldrip's fiancee a succubus, and Waldrip wins the match with Everett getting thrown out the shop and banned by the owner.

Later on, Delmar and Everett are reunited with Pete, and the three boys stumble upon a KKK gathering, with white robes everywhere.  They are performing some ritual for a lynching, and the boys notice that they have their lost friend Tommy in their clutches.  The camera cuts from a frightened Tommy that gave up on struggling away from the members who have him to a Color Guard member being dragged into some bushes.  The boys emerge from the same bushes dressed as the KKK Color Guard, and proceed to follow the members who are dragging Tommy toward the hanging rope.  They catch up to Tommy, and while they are letting him know that they will rescue him, one of the other KKK members stops walking.  The camera zooms in on him as he turns around, and he lifts his hood to reveal that he is, in fact, Big Dan.  Big Dan calls the boys out and rips their hoods off; the boys are so dirty that in the dim firelight, they look African American.  Everyone freaks out as the head of the mob lifts his hood to reveal himself as a politician who appeared toward the middle of the film.  This scene creates a very powerful criticism about monetary wealth and the kind of people that the majority of it goes to: scam artists and politicians who end up as horrible people. (Don't worry; the four comrades make it out O.K.)

Jump to the very end of the movie, where Everett is seen wearing a stark white shirt; this is the first time he wears a shirt so bright.  He is reunited with his family, is a member of a very successful musical band, and has been given political power.  He has gained all kinds of wealth, and the movie seems to end on a more or less happy note.

If Shakespeare Directed Brokeback Mountain...

My Own Private Idaho (1991) is a New Queer Cinema film that takes a stylized, almost fantastical response to the gay community's persecution and exile from society during the AIDS epidemic.  It has a lot of common tropes with other queer films, such as the abstractly, sensually-shot sex scenes and a hateful or misunderstanding old father.  However, the film introduces these tropes in a somewhat new fashion, a fashion that works...and doesn't work.

One particular scene is when the character Bob "Pigeon" comes back to town and goes back to a house that an elderly woman owns to sleep and do drugs.  Scotty (Keanu Reeves) wakes Bob up, only to have Bob find that he was robbed of his cocaine.  Bob angrily storms out through the halls of the house, yelling at the top of his lungs in a very grandiose and humorous fashion.  The camera takes a few moments here and there to cut to the protagonist, Mikey (River Phoenix), snorting Bob's cocaine.  Bob does not even question Mikey; he instantly blames his assistant and the elderly woman, who hilariously replies off-screen, "Don't worry, Bob, we'll get your coke!"  He then gets caught up in long-winded, Shakespearean couplet exposition about how he used to be a good guy, but after he met Scotty, he became a dirty, old, fat thief who stalks coke lines and gay bars.  During this part, Scotty is responding to his accusations with rhyming couplets as both men are strolling through an unfinished part of the house.  The uncovered wooden beams and floor and bland glass windows help mimic the look of a stage play, complete with incredibly hammy acting.

This scene was interesting for two notable reasons.  The first one is the (likely intentional) comparison between New Queer Cinema and Shakespearean plays.  Both are about grandiose, fantastical analyses of society and often include shots at politics.  They also both explore the idea of "forbidden love" and how the lovers get around those borders.  The other reason this scene peaks the audience's interest is because of the way the Bob "Pigeon" character is portrayed.  Most other queer films, such as The Trip, Maurice, Bad Education and Torch Song Trilogy often want the audience to feel sympathy with the good-looking, usually young men.  But here, the movie tries to play on pathos with the older, fat, sweaty and obnoxious character; this is a character type that is usually the villain and sometimes goes hand-in-hand with the misunderstanding father character.  Bob is here to remind the audience that not all gay men look like Abercrombie and Fitch models.

The only thing that sort of killed this otherwise amusing scene was all the exposition.  It only half-way works because this is a call-back to Shakespearean plays, but it is really annoying since many other scenes beforehand included dialogue and monologues that were nothing but exposition.  Generally, it is better to show the audience what happened rather than have a character just spell it out in paragraphs.

Spoorloos: Horror or Just Suspense?

Spoorloos (1988) has been considered a horror film by many critics, but, similar with Freaks, I'm not so sure I agree with that claim.  While I feel that the third act of the movie definitely falls into the horror category, most of the film comes off more like a drama or suspense film.

The third act of the movie incorporates enough "scary" elements that mirror the horror genre.  I mostly talking about the ending bit where the protagonist, Rex, wakes up to find that he has been buried alive.  This scene calls back to the idea of eternal loneliness, which was what Saskia's biggest fear was.  This scene makes the audience feel uncomfortable as it focuses on Rex screaming for help and trying to pry his way through the coffin or crate, and then, quite out of nowhere, he starts laughing.  But his laughter is an uncertain one; it sounds like he is on the verge of crying, but he does not actually cry.  The audience does not typically know what to do if they were ever in this kind of situation, so the uncomfortable-ness builds up to a sort of fear. Not just for Rex, but for themselves.

The reason I stated that the first two-thirds of the film are not necessarily horror is because these kinds of horror elements are not represented as strongly.  The audience is allowed to observe Rex's fall into mad obsession, but only at snippets at a time, such as the scene where he goes to his computer and Saskia's name shows up all over the screen, replacing the names of his past girlfriends.  Other than that, the movie creates a lot of suspense and drama (especially the scenes with Raymond planning his abduction), but they are not presented as "scary".  These scenes come off more like a character analysis; the audience is put in a position of observation and evaluation.  Fear is not as important here.

Killing Sheep is Difficult

If anything lost me, it was this dog mask...

Killer of Sheep (1979) is an American drama film by Charles Burnett about a man dealing with his jaded working-class life and family.  It is critically praised all across the board and is considered a huge breakthrough in African American film.  It's also a difficult film.

This isn't to say that the film is difficult to understand; I knew what was going on for the most part and I did not get lost very often.  It also is not difficult due gut-twisting scenes of violence and other immoralities; there are virtually none of those (unless the parts in the meat factory count).  It is a difficult film because it is difficult to pay attention to.  Why is that?

I think it has to do with the way the narrative is laid out.  Generally speaking, traditional American story-telling in films (or in any media) is told in a linear sense, with a clear beginning, middle and end, and with a very obvious protagonist, antagonist and conflict of interest.  The audience does not get that kind of story here.

Killer of Sheep's story is told in the fashion of traditional African tribal legends and fables, such as the Igbo people's stories found in the novel Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe.  Often with these types of stories, there is a vague overarching plot with varying subplots.  These subplots are told in an episodic, non-linear fashion, and the point of view often switches from character to character, making identifying a definite protagonist a bit tricky.  The "episodes" don't really end, either; they tend to leave off on open-ended notes, but often are not actually finished.  (This could be so that the next orator can add his or her own sort of "ending", with hopes of continuing an oral narrative chain.)  There is also a heavier emphasis on the characters' actions, as opposed to the traditional American stories, where the emphasis is on the characters' reactions.

Telling the story this way may be the film trying to juxtapose African Americans' livelihoods and their heritage.  It is a neat way of looking at narrative in general, but it may be hard to invest in if it breaks every rule of story-telling that the audience grew up with.