Monday, December 5, 2011

Drive


Emilio Estevez, Molly Ringwald, Rob Lowe, Andrew McCarthy - the Brat Pack. Some of my favorite films are Pretty in Pink, Sixteen Candles, St. Elmo's Fire, The Breakfast Club, and all things John Hughes.

When I watched the film Drive, I could only focus on two things: Ryan Gosling, and the soundtrack. The soundtrack brought me back to the summer of 2004. The summer I fell in love with electro-pop and the Brat Pack. I was reading the infamously trashy Remember Me series by Christopher Pike, and at one point the book mentions driving by a theater that was playing Pretty in Pink. I went to the American Club that had a collection of old video cassette movies and rented myself every teen movie from the 80s. Electro-pop was everywhere.

Now Drive is the kind of movie that makes you want to ride in a 1960's Camero and crank New Order's Bizzare Love Triangle while sporting some vintage Persol sunglasses. Most of the film's soundtrack was composed by Cliff Martinez (a former Red Hot Chili Pepper). What the soundtrack ended up as was basically retro European pop; and the prelude to the DJ as a commercial artist.

Disco. Vintage Keyboards. Percussion. Strings.

What makes this movie good is its style. You've got a sexy man in a leather jacket driving at 140 mph, you've got an ethereal Carey Mulligan, and you've got songs like the ones listed below. This movie is pure sex.

Kavinsky - Nightcall


Desire - Under Your Spell



College - A Real Hero


The Chromatics - Tick of the Clock


Cliff Martinez - He Had a Good Time (I wouldn't call this electro-pop, but it's very Tree of Life-ish)


Cliff Martinez Interview


New Order - Bizzare Love Traingle (Not related to Drive, but here because it's a sick song)




Cruel Intentions


If I hadn't gone to a business school, I would have gone to a French film school. Why? Well, because films encompass every form of art I've ever appreciated. In certain cases, it's a composite of literary adaptations, you've got crazy cinematography/photography, you've got ingenious tracking shots, and perhaps my favorite part - if you're lucky you get some badass soundtracks.

When Cruel Intentions first came out, I was dying to see it. Not because it was a modern adaptation of Les liaisons dangereuses, I didn't figure that out until I had actually watched Dangerous Liasions with Glenn Close and John Malkovich. Mostly because I was determined that I would one day meet and marry Ryan Phillippe. Of course, I was far too young to watch it. Somehow I managed to sneak in a pirated DVD into my room at 13 years old. 90 minutes later, my inevitable marriage to Ryan Phillippe became second to my obsession to one day become a writer for the Rolling Stone.

The prepubescent teenager of the 90's who was dealing with matters of the heart needed that soundtrack like the late 50's needed Presley and Jailhouse Rock. The Beatles, Presley, Led Zeppelin had come and gone. We were stuck with Spears, Aguilera, and NYSNC - for some reason music was becoming stupider and stupider. She's All That's partake on what a thirteen year old needed to croon to undermined my own self respect. Insert Placebo, Blur, Marcy Playground, and delete Sixpence None the Richer's Kiss Me - and the Cruel Intentions Soundtrack was my music bible.

Here's how it goes:

Marcy Playground - Comin' Up from Behind


Placebo - Every you, Every Me


Blur - Coffee and TV


The Verve - Bittersweet Symphony


Counting Crows - Colorblind


The Cardigans - Lovefool


Abra Moore - Trip in Love (my personal favorite)



In an old house in Paris that was covered in vines, lived twelve little girls in two straight lines ...


I'm 22 years old, bordering on 23, and I have an instinctive feeling that the rest of my life will set itself on auto-drive; and one day before I know it, it'll all be over.

This may sound like some sort of dark premonition or a premature mid-life crisis; but that's not what I think is going on. I'm having flash backs while doing the most mundane things - heating up food in my microwave, walking home from the train station, separating whites from colors while doing laundry; these flashbacks of my childhood are popping in and out of my head, one after another. I remember smells, I remember images, I remember the names of places and people more vividly than I can remember what I did last Friday night.

And there's one place in particular that just wont leave me alone. It's an old house in Paris that was covered in vines, where lived twelve little girls in two straight lines. I spent most of my childhood in the LAPL, and my closest friends went by the names Clifford and Madeline. Clifford being a ridiculously big and red dog, and Madeline being a little red-headed girl that went to a Catholic girl's school in Paris. My favorite children's book is Pat Hutchinson's "The Doorbell Rang" - where "Ma" is also a red-head. This takes me to the first adult novel I ever read, The Shining, by Stephen King - Red Rum anyone? I've just realized the significance of the color RED in my first experiences with learning to read, while doing my laundry.

Now, more about Madeline. I'm also writing this while watching Anthony Bourdain's episode on New York. By pure coincidence Mr. Bourdain is visiting Bemelman's Bar at the Carlyle, named after none other than Ludwig Bemelman. Here's what the hotel's website says about the bar:

Best remembered as the creator of the classic Madeline books for children, Ludwig Bemelmans once joked he'd like his tombstone to read: "Tell Them It Was Wonderful." Well, wonderful it was, and still is, at Bemelmans Bar. Named in honor of the legendary artist, Bemelmans is a timeless New York watering hole that has drawn socialites, politicians, movie stars and moguls for more than five decades.

The Carlyle was the city's premier luxury residential hotel and served as second home to socialites, politicians and movie stars when Ludwig Bemelmans was commissioned to paint large-scale murals in the hotel bar. The creator of the enormously popular Madeline children's book series as well as a successful artist working for The New Yorker, Vogue and Town and Country, Bemelmans transformed the bar with clever, whimsical scenes of Central Park (including picnicking rabbits). Instead of being paid for the art, Bemelmans exchanged his work for a year and a half of accommodations at The Carlyle for himself and his family.


For those of you living in New York, or just passing though, please be sure to check this bar out. Where else are you going to find art as precious and timeless as this.

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Surrealism & Un Chien Andalou


Surrealism is an art movement that emphasizes achieving the liberation of the mind through the imaginative powers of the subconscious. In the study of cinema, one of the first avant-garde works was the surreal film Un Chien Andalou (1929), directed by Spanish filmmaker Luis Bunuel and Spanish surrealist artist Salvardor Dali. The reception of this film mimicked that of the reception of most cult films: its distribution was severely limited. The reasons for this include the controversial nature of the film as well as its illogical content. The film’s run-time is approximately seventeen minutes long; it is silent, black & white, with a disjointed chronology. The film lacks any real plot, and follows an almost dream-like narrative flow; essentially emphasizing the imaginative powers of the subconscious.

The film begins with a title card reading "Once upon a time", it then continues with a shot of a smoking man holding a razor blade while staring at the moon. The next shot is a close-up of a young woman sitting on a chair. A man is seen standing next to her. She stares calmly straight into the camera; the man then lifts a razor blade up to the woman’s eye, suggesting that he will cut across her eye-ball horizontally with the blade. Before this happens, the next shot is of the same moon the original man was staring at, except now a thin cloud has cut across the moon horizontally, almost replicating what is soon to happen to the woman’s eye. The next shot is a close-up of what seems to the eye of a human being cut horizontally with a blade. The cutting of the eye-ball is shown from start to finish.

What has just occurred represents only the first half-minute of this sixteen minute nightmarish experience. A “persistent dream built upon disconcerting images.” The film then continues by presenting a series of random and extremely bizarre events; ranging from a bicycling man in a nun’s outfit, a severed hand placed inside a wooden box, and a dead couple buried in sand. The effects of discomfort and disturbance are largely felt while viewing this film. This film’s controversial nature and series of shocking images and events help in justifying why its distribution was so limited and why it was, in most cases, banned from public viewing. Un Chien Andalou was generally only viewed in private clubs or the studios of surrealists and artists.

The film was based on two separate dreams that Bunuel and Dali had experienced. Bunuel had recalled a dream in which a moon was sliced by clouds (similarly to an eye being sliced by a razor), while Dali had recalled a dream in which a hand was engulfed with crawling ants. They later decided to make a film that included these distinct images, their only rule had been that “no idea or image susceptible to reasoning would be allowed.” The film has been described as Dali and Bunuel’s quest to “goad the dull bourgeois mind.” It is representational of surrealism at its best, it follows no predetermined limits and is not designed to meet any specified expectations by its audience, and instead it is heavily invested in free association and the liberation of the human psyche. To be able to present the innermost ideas and creations of the subconscious and to defy all that society had deemed as acceptable was the main purpose of this film.

Its popularity amongst cult film fans is based on the film’s pioneering movement to defy the conventional and to present a form of art that was representational of alien ideas and concepts. It was unique and provoked audiences to think outside the box of what a film could or could not be. The film’s quality of excess coupled with its surrealist nature is what has distinguished this film amongst cineastes as avant-garde and noteworthy.

Cult Film Archive: Delicatessen


Delicatessen is a French cult film by Jean-Pierre Jeunet and Marc Caro; it explores the taboos of cannibalism and even includes bizarre characters such as underground vegetarian terrorists. The film falls into the category of black satire, a genre in which films deal with darker issues and themes, such as death, and treat these themes in a satirical or comedic manner. The film’s main character is a circus attraction that becomes the manager of a dilapidated building full of residents; other characters include a butcher, a man that recycles bicycle patches to extend the life of a condom, a woman with tin cans attached to her feet, prostitutes, and gangsters. Perhaps the film’s popularity amongst its fan base is based on the film’s uncomfortable themes, its unique characters, or twisted plot; but nevertheless these fans must also appreciate the unique and brilliant film-making involved. For instance,

In the words of Allan Havis,

Delicatessen indulges in very close-ups and wide-angle shots rendering attractive and hideous faces into topographic maps. Jeunet and Caro’s inventive camera work highlights odd angles, ludicrous tracking shots, aggressive editing, and live actor animation.”

The film’s specific compilation of shot types helps in enhancing the overall tone of the film, one that is character based and is meant to overwhelm audiences with uncomfortable closeness to characters that they might find the most difficulty empathizing with. The use of out of the ordinary tracking shots also helps in providing viewers with unique vantage points that are meant to enhance the specific film experience the directors are trying to emulate; in the case of this film, an up-close experience with a “depressed and despoiled” society.

Cult Film Archive: El Topo


El Topo, a film by Chilean director Alejandro Jodorowsky, achieved prominence based on the controversial nature of the film as well as its various references to art, culture, and religion. What made El Topo controversial was its “steady pulse of visual shocks ranging from physical deformity to bestiality.” The symbolism the film provokes through its peculiar imagery creates unsettling effects on audiences that cause them to remember the film for its artistic nature; for example, the film opens with an image of an umbrella carrying El Topo, clad in black, riding on a horse through a desert with his naked son. The film follows with El Topo instructing his son to bury his mother’s photo and first toy; which could be perceived as a biblical reference to Abraham’s sacrifice of Isaac. The film continues to shock audiences with its imagery of genocide, slaughter, and the sound of feasting insects.

The Beautiful and Damned


I'm currently reading F. Scott Fitzgerald's 1922 novel, The Beautiful and Damned; on my brand new Kindle.

I'm not sure what I'm more excited about, the fact that I've finally decided to read all of Fitzgerald's novels, I did make the conscious decision not to start with The Great Gatbsy - or that I've finally given into a by product of this new overwhelmingly technological era. For someone whose revered the art of bookmaking and finds the smell of new paper and ink demoniac, trading in the pleasure of truly feeling like you own a tangible piece of someone's mass produced art for a six inch device that compiles Conrad, Eliot, and Hugo like its no big deal, still hurts.

I'm not sure if what depressed me more is to not be able to see an entire collection of what I've read in a neat little bookshelf, with the titles placed in order of literary magnificence, feats I have accomplished, my own personal trophies of voyages with characters like Lily Bart and Fanny Price, or that I would no longer be able to physically turn a page. Turning pages can feel nearly as good as unwrapping presents. Trust me on that.

However, now that I have dared myself to try the inevitable, I can comfortably say, it is well worth it. For all of you out there who have endured two hour long commutes to and from work, like I have, fear no longer for the health of your shoulders and back, or for what to do when the book stores close before you have a chance to purchase your next journey. Be smart, get a Kindle.

Now, as for The Beautiful and Damned, although I am only 38% (according to my too cool for school Kindle) into my rendezvous with good ol' Scottie I can say two things thus far: he has an obsession with the word NEBULOUS and FACETIOUS - and if you have a soft spot for the Jazz Age, or are enamored with the personal lives of writers of the Lost Generation, or simply want to know what really drove Zelda to the looney bin - READ IT.