End Of The Week Shorts #74
With Senna, we are allowed a close look at the life of someone who sped along a razor's edge, constantly loading onto his shoulders greater weight. We look at this life largely as it was publicised with there never being a real conflict between a public and personal persona brought to the fore. As much a documentary about a man, this is also then a documentary about an icon positioned in his place on the mantle-piece of racing history. We feel a condensed version of the adulation that many must have felt as Senna was racing with the added joy of coming somewhat close to experiencing and understanding his precarious place of being between utter devastation and complete decimation. It is here where Senna found God, and it is here where we witness transcendence - such being the greatest achievement of this hugely affecting documentary. Highly recommended.
This documentary made me feel bad in being so predictably crappy. When I think of cross fit people, I think of an annoying stereotype; arrogant, basic, dude-bro types. I hoped this would be somewhat surprising, but it just wasn't. Froning is a normal guy, he rides dirt bikes, shoots guns, hangs out with his bros, watches Michael Bay movies, probably wishes he were a Ninja Turtle; his supportive parents push him, he works out... like a lot, feels alpha, thanks God and loves his wife. His greatest complication is that he adopted a kid. Everyone is in awe of him, expectations are high, everything is intense, the sound design is thumping, there's slow-motion, lens flares, drone shots - everything. It's undeniable that Froning is impressive, but this documentary just fails to present what he does best and just that. He's not interesting enough of a person for a documentary; maybe a TV show, maybe a YouTube channel, but not a documentary. Mind-numbing.
I've enjoyed everything I've seen Rollins in, and so this is a first: drab and uninteresting. There's not too much to say about it, it seems rather fake and forced, the stories built around politics and so on. I was looking forward to this, but the smile quickly fell off my face and hasn't found its way back.
Certainly provocative, but not perfect, Look Who's Back is fundamentally a film that questions comedy itself; it asks how a joke is to be made and confronted when all jokes intrinsically have some basis in reality. Is it then possible, dangerous or even worthwhile to comedically deal with one of history's worst tyrants: Hitler? Are we to dismiss the reality in all jokes? Are we to be possessed by a joke's basis in reality? Is there a non-pretentious middle-ground? All of these questions are presented by this story quite brilliantly. Aesthetically, however, this is a mess. The blend between documentary and fiction is jarring, leaving this feeling deeply contrived; the cinematography and sound design feel like they've been ripped from children's television and, to speak on structure, the plot is often ludicrous. Alas, I haven't laughed at a comedy as I did today for a long time (the dead dog scene hit hardest). So, overall, I have to say that I enjoyed being lost in this despite its often trashy nature. A re-watch would probably clarify my perspective.
Through-and-through opaque, Holy Motors is an evocative, sometimes captivating, journey through ambiguous unknowing. The only means through which I could make sense of this is via its use of Marey's chronophographic works (the naked figures performing random actions). This seems to represent a kind of cinema and performance whose inherent, technological magic is the singular attraction. In the modern day, this kind of cinema would put audiences to sleep - and such seems to be the statement made by the opening. What flows forth from here is a narrative about a man who must immerse himself in a set of performances for unseen spectators. Is this what cinema has become? An abstract movement between emotions and events?
I cannot decipher much else from this film. The interval is dazzling and certain scenes striking, but I won't hazard a judgement and attribute greatness to all that is opaque abut this. A second viewing required.
It is strange looking back to the start of the Marvel movies, 10 years and just under 20 movies ago. Iron Man very much so feels like a run-of-the-mill blockbuster, but within it are the seeds of the average Marvel movie we see churned out a couple times a year. Seen in the context of the newest Marvel films, this remains solid. This has a unique (for Marvel films) balance between character and spectacle; the script isn't trying too hard to make Stark likeable and heroic, and it leaves enough time for some fun. Almost every single Marvel movie to follow this has put too much on its plate to be so relaxed in the narrative and character department. That isn't to say that Iron Man's story is great; the hero arc is too basic, there are far too many plot holes as well as ludicrous explosions and happenings that we are to overlook, and there is a general lack of daring about this. The small moments of comedy between Stark and his robots make this worthwhile, however. What's more, this has to be commended for its brilliant building of Stark as a character - who really hasn't needed much development ever since this film. All in all, this was fascinating to re-visit, but not amazing.
With a re-watch of Raw I still see the same rather direct and unambiguous Freudian narrative. In mapping out the effects that neurotic parents can have on unstable and impressionable children, this finds precision and expressivity. It's articulation is quite impressive in its specificity, but I found myself yearning for just a little more complication and character. This is due to the fact that, upon seeing this again, my conception of who our character are was rooted in irritation and distance to some degree, which is to say I found it hard to care so much about character conflicts when the final arcs were already known to me. Alas, all in all, this remains fascinating and I may have to watch it again some time.
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Genre, Structure & Cinematic Spacetime Part III
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Shok - Treachery
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