 |
gif credit 1
I only slowed it down half a second. I'd add Se7en, Panic Room and even The Game. That's basically every film he directed so far. What an amazing artist. |
August 28, 2011
Happy Birthday: David Fincher
August 23, 2011
August 21, 2011
Liebster Blog Award
Oh, I just got my first award nomination...!!! Meredith, from the wonderful Forever Classics, just nominated me for the Liebster Blog award, which means Beloved Blog in german - how incredibly sweet is that? The rules are: if you get nominated you need to link back to the person who nominated you (and give him/her the biggest thank-you-so-much you can), and then nominate 3-5 of your favorite blogs. BUT, they need to have less than 300 followers (which as you may notice, I'm well into that category). Now, I know some people don't like this kind of thing, so none of the blogs I nominated have any obligation to do this. But I have found a great deal of nice blogs through this award, and now it's my turn to give:
The below listed are some of my favorite blogs, they're very different from each other, but equally amazing. I never get tired of reading them, and even if I sometimes don't share their opinion, I truly cherish it, as everyone should. I wouldn't be surprise if you knew them already, but in case you don't, go follow these highly recommended blogs, now:
August 20, 2011
List of Shame #8 | The Unbearable Lightness of Being (1988)
"The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man's body.The heaviest of burdens is therefore simultaneously an image of life's most intense fulfillment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become. Conversely, the absolute absence of burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into heights, take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant. What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness?"
— MILAN KUNDERA (The Unbearable Lightness of Being)
Starring DANIEL DAY-LEWIS, JULIETTE BINOCHE and LENA OLIN
It appears that I forgot The Unbearable Lightness of Being was one of the films in this list, and made a full review of it, just a couple of days ago. I'll take the opportunity to remind you all that these List of Shame posts are not reviews (notice I never rate them), but rather... thoughts on these films and my experience of viewing them.
So I noticed this film while I was creeping around Daniel Day-Lewis's IMDb page, and a few days later noticed that I actually had Kundera's book at home, and so made the decision to read it before watching the film - as I always do in these cases. It's a 1988 edition, that I believe belonged to my father, and it's literally tearing apart. Not just yellowish colors and bent corners, I'm talking turning a page and ending up with it in your hand, separated from the book. Every single one of them. Which just made it all so much more fun, really. When I first started reading it I didn't think that I was mature enough - I must've been around 16-17 - so I put it down, and didn't think about it until about two weeks ago, when I finally read it. I can't tell you how much I loved this book for gathering all my favorite topics - relationships, philosophy, history - in one perfectly narrated story. More than this, it has constant meditations on the mentioned topics, as well as autobiographical notes. It's like the author just sat down and started writing years of doubts and reflections, splitting his life and self in four characters, and using them as a conductive thread.
About the film, I read that Kundera didn't like it, and thought it had nothing similar to his novel. I think I read it on wikipedia, so chances are he didn't say that. But even if he did, I can understand it, to some extent. Like I said in the review, this is a far too complex book to be easily and successfully adapted to film. Even if they kept most of the scenes (which they did), most philosophical theories and moral tales are left out, and from the ones that are mentioned, only one is fully explained. As for the characters, I saw in each of the actor's performances a faithful portrait of what my interpretation of the novel was. Only Franz was a little forgotten, with his love for marching, but that's not really important. And what a key word interpretation is, here - it is because of it that I can't agree with the author. The film is a mere interpretation of the novel, and so are Kundera's thoughts on it. Even his interpretation is not absolute, and may very well have changed with time. I don't believe one can say that fully understands anything, to its very core, even if we're the ones who made it. Even our perception of our own life is constantly changing. And perhaps because Kundera put a part of himself in that book, he feels a little possessive about it. Which is only natural, and therefore, comprehensible. But again, he may not have said it.
About the film, I read that Kundera didn't like it, and thought it had nothing similar to his novel. I think I read it on wikipedia, so chances are he didn't say that. But even if he did, I can understand it, to some extent. Like I said in the review, this is a far too complex book to be easily and successfully adapted to film. Even if they kept most of the scenes (which they did), most philosophical theories and moral tales are left out, and from the ones that are mentioned, only one is fully explained. As for the characters, I saw in each of the actor's performances a faithful portrait of what my interpretation of the novel was. Only Franz was a little forgotten, with his love for marching, but that's not really important. And what a key word interpretation is, here - it is because of it that I can't agree with the author. The film is a mere interpretation of the novel, and so are Kundera's thoughts on it. Even his interpretation is not absolute, and may very well have changed with time. I don't believe one can say that fully understands anything, to its very core, even if we're the ones who made it. Even our perception of our own life is constantly changing. And perhaps because Kundera put a part of himself in that book, he feels a little possessive about it. Which is only natural, and therefore, comprehensible. But again, he may not have said it.
So the film may seem a bit superficial when we compare it with the novel, as it always does in these situations. Especially if you watch the film shortly after reading the book. It has happened to me a couple of times now, more recently with Jane Eyre. After watching it I kept thinking about all the little things they didn't include in the film, and actually felt the events were a bit rushed. But it's not true. The more I thought about it, the more I came to the conclusion that it is a splendid adaptation of Brontë's work. Another interesting thing, that happened to me while reading both of these novels, is that if you know about the film before reading the book, you already have a visual impression of the characters, at least. So in my mind, Jane was Wasikowska, Rochester was Fassbender, Tomas was Day-Lewis, and Tereza was Binoche. In every page.
August 19, 2011
List of Shame #7 | Reservoir Dogs (1992)
After a long absence, The List of Shame is back, and I've already watched three more films! By the way, the order may differ - it was just so hard to follow it, for instance, I've watched Lost in Translation and The Silence of the Lambs this week, when otherwise I would have to wait until day 16 and 50, or something. And once choosing a film to watch is a rather emotional task (like lately I can't get enough of thrillers), making it rational was pure nonsense.
Still, day seven was Reservoir Dogs. Being a Tarantino film I knew I would enjoy it. I know this is a cheesy thing to say, but it's the truth: I loved every single one of his films (the only one left is Jackie Brown), even Kill Bill (which was a long shot, because martial arts are really not my thing). So even if a script sounds utterly absurd, I'm sure that if it has his name on the front page, and his eyes behind the camera, it's going to be great. That said, Reservoir Dogs - which I can't pronounce because in my mind it's french - is no exception. I was aware that it is regarded as one of his finest, but looking at his filmography, I don't think I could make that decision - they're all so different from each other, that there's barely any grounds for comparison. But from a purely personal point of view, I can say that Reservoir Dogs is not only one of my favorite Tarantino films, but also holds a spot in my All-Time Favorites sort of list. A really nice spot.
Needless to say I've become addicted to its soundtrack - someone's got great taste - reviving some nice songs that I had nearly forgotten, and giving me yet another excuse to have one more stylish album cover on iTunes. This actually happens with all of his films' soundtracks (yes, even the weird german songs from Basterds). So yeah, I pretty much dance like a psychopath that's about to burn you alive when Stuck in the Middle With You is on. Except for Michael Bublé's version. And once again, I wonder why haven't I heard of Tim Roth before Pulp Fiction. That cast.
Can I rate every Tarantino film with five stars?
Can I rate every Tarantino film with five stars?
August 15, 2011
The Unbearable Lightness of Being (1988)
Directed by PHILIP KAUFMAN
Starring DANIEL DAY-LEWIS, JULIETTE BINOCHE and LENA OLIN
This eighties drama shares its story and title with Milan Kundera's magnificent and widely renowned novel, The Unbearable Lightness of Being. Having read it, it's impossible not to compare it - in the very narrow way one can compare literature to cinema - with the film. A crucial factor when adapting something from one medium to another is understanding and adequately using what each medium has to offer, so even though cinema can explore theories and its respective arguments, this exercise becomes increasingly harder when the story at hand is somewhat elaborate - which is the case, here - mainly because the time to do it is limiting.
Philosophical theories and meditations are precisely one of the key elements of Kundera's novel, so while the book explores and often recurs to them, the film merely mentions them. On wether a viewer who has not read the book can fully grasp the implications of these allusions I cannot tell, for I deliberately read the book before watching the film. Consequently, the mere sight of Sabina's hat has the utmost symbolism. I suspect however, that naturally, they cannot. But it is my understanding that this is not a flaw of the film, but rather an advantage of the book.
If we acknowledge this, we're left with an intricate web of events, conducted by four characters, motivated by both desire and fear, and profoundly constricted by their country's political state. These four characters are Tomas (Daniel Day-Lewis), Tereza (Juliette Binoche), Sabina (Lena Olin) and Franz (Derek de Lint), and the country of the first three, is Czechoslovakia, in 1968. Tomas is a neurosurgeon and a man of many love affairs. One day he meets Tereza, a strange and naive girl who falls in love with him. Sabina is one of Tomas lovers, that meets Franz when she leaves Prague for Geneva. Sabina lives haunted by the memory of her mother's scorn towards her, Tereza is tormented by nightmares that reflect profound insecurities, and Tomas struggles with Tereza's torments, as he wonders why he's still with her, and why he cannot leave her.
Three struggling characters in a struggling country, each with their own definition of justice, love, existence. It's an inward meditation provoked by the chaos of an outward scenario. While the book invites you to dwell on these subjects, the film depicts them through splendid performances. Both are highly recommended.
