Best Directors: 2009

I'm going to apologize in advance for my blogging laziness. Going into this, I had grand notions of intricate posts full of cinematic wisdom. Then, as usual, reality intervened, and instead of getting The Alien trilogy interpreted as a treatise on an evolving cinemascape, or the effects of the Hays Code on Rebel Without a Cause, I'm just going to talk about directors for a little while; specifically, the five directors nominated for this years Best Director Oscar. So, I suppose you can consider this part of my continuing Oscar miniseries. I'll let you know who they are, what they've done, what I think of them, and why their achievements this year merit awards consideration. So, here we go, in alphabetical order:

Kathryn Bigelow
Films (in bold are the ones I've seen):
The Hurt Locker
K 19: The Widowmaker
The Weight of Water
Strange Days
Point Break
Blue Steel
Near Dark
Breakdown

What I think:
I honestly wasn't overly familiar with Ms. Bigelow before The Hurt Locker. I was aware of her, mainly due to her relative fame as a female director of stereotypically 'male' movies. Most of her films operate within a genre (usually action or horror), though they tend to subvert the cliches inherent to their specific fields. For me, watching The Hurt Locker was a complete revelation: it was almost shameful that I was hitherto unaware of such unadulterated talent. Obviously, I can't speak on Ms. Bigelow too well, as I've only seen one other of her films, but that one (Near Dark) is very much worth seeing. Near Dark poses as a vampire movie, while quietly sneaking away to play in the Western playground. Her take on the cowboy-mainstreet-shootout trope is absolutely priceless (hint: it involves a Semi and a flaming Bill Paxton with razor-sharp spurs).

Why she deserves the nomination:
The Hurt Locker is one of the most effortlessly tense and draining films I've seen in a while, and a large part of that is due to Bigelow's stylistic sensibilities and unbeatable sense of pacing. Plus, in the middle of all the action, she draws forth virtuoso performances from her three leads (Jeremy Renner, Anthony Mackie, Brian Geraghty), and never allows the story elements to be usurped by the action set-pieces. She doesn't just deserve the nomination: she deserves to win.

James Cameron
Films:
Avatar
Titanic
True Lies
Terminator 2: Judgement Day
The Abyss
Aliens
The Terminator
Piranha 2: The Spawning

What I think:
It seems like I spend at least half of my life defending James Cameron these days. So, let me put it this way: he's not a great director. His movies can be hackneyed and cliched. He prioritizes concept and visual conceit over emotional substance and nuance. That being said, he's been redefining the medium of film since 1986. The man may be arrogant, but his arrogance has led to some of the most awe-inspiringly insane movie stories of the past 30 years (seriously, if you haven't seen any of the making-of footage for Titanic, youtube that crap: he literally rebuilt the friggin' Titanic. That's a big ship). In his later years, his writing has become dreadfully sub-par (though the scripts for Terminator 2 and Aliens are, in my opinion, tightly wound and proficient enough), but he has yet to sacrifice his artistic notions for easier work, and that endears him to me like crazy.

Why he deserves the nomination:
Avatar may not reinvent the story-telling wheel, but it does redefine what is possible for movies to show, and I respect that. Keeping a film of this size on the tracks and managing to make it both understandable and entertaining is one hell of an achievement. Plus, he's one of the most hands-on directors working: youtube footage of Cameron running through sound-stages, steadicam belted on, and see what I mean.

Lee Daniels
Films:
Precious
Shadowboxer

What I think:
I really don't have anything intelligent to say here, as I think it's just about impossible to speak on a director having seen only one of their films. I thought Precious was competently directed, even if it strayed into overly stylistic territory at times. Not that there's anything wrong with style: the film just felt as if it were trying too hard to be a 'director's movie."

Why he deserves the nomination:
Anyone who can coax such amazing performances out of a debut performance (Gabourey Sidibe) or a BET talk-show host (Mo'Nique) deserves some recognition.

Jason Reitman
Films:
Up in the Air
Juno
Thank You For Smoking

What I think:
Jason Reitman is solid. I can't say it any better than that. He's a very meat-and-potatoes sort of director: he gets the story told without unnecessary flourishes, and that's admirable. His films are always smart, quickly paced, and sharp as a tack. My one qualm would be that, every now and again, he seems to be trying to hard to be quirky. It could be the material he tackles, it could be the actors, but I can't help but think that Reitman embraces his 'indie director' a little too tightly. That's a tiny complaint, however: he's on a three-for-three role, here, and has yet to make a bad film.

Why he deserves the nomination:
Up in the Air is almost minimalist in its spare storytelling style. Reitman effortlessly evokes the life of a man with nothing to tie him down while subtly introducing contemporary relevant themes, and never tipping the balance of comedy and drama.

Quentin Tarantino
Films:
Inglorious Basterds
Death-Proof
Kill Bill
Jackie Brown
Pulp Fiction
Reservoir Dogs

What I think:
I think it's embarrassing that I haven't seen Jackie Brown. I'll try to get on that. Quentin Tarantino is an auteur by any definition. His films are completely distinctive, unique pieces that both embrace and subvert the genres in which they occur. Think about it: Pulp Fiction is technically a gangster/crime movie, Kill Bill is technically a kung-fu movie, and Inglorious Basterds is technically a WWII movie. But none of them really feel like it, do they? Tarantino's visual style is endlessly inventive and wickedly, maniacally gleeful. No other director working today can use violence as a comedic punchline the way Tarantino can. He's easily my favorite director on this list.

Why he deserves the nomination:
Well, he's Quentin Tarantino, for starters. All levity aside, Inglorious Basterds is fresh, witty, and hugely entertaining, as well as dark, gruesome, and incredibly tense. It's a completely unique vision that deserves a reward.



Can I just take a moment to point out how diverse this lineup is? Normally, Oscar nominates five middle-aged white men. But this year, we have:
-a woman, only the fourth in Academy history, after Lena Wurtmuller (Seven Beauties), Jane Campion (The Piano), and Sophia Coppola (Lost in Translation)
-a black man, only the second in Academy history (after John Singleton (Boyz in da Hood). That's right, Spike Lee has never been nominated. Not even for Do the Right Thing.)
-a young man: Reitman is only 32. Fewer than ten directors have been younger than he is for their nominations.
-a gay man (Lee Daniels). Though this is one of the Academy's more welcome minorities, it's still relatively rare. Famous out directors who have scored with the Academy include Pedro Almodovar (Hable Con Ella), Steven Daldry (Billy Elliot, The Hours, The Reader), Gus Van Sant (Good Will Hunting, Milk), Rob Marshall (Nine), Franco Zefferelli (Romeo and Juliet), and John Schlesinger (Midnight Cowboy)
-a Canadian (James Cameron). I'd insert a Canadian joke here, but there are quite a few Canadian directors worth their salt (Atom Egoyan and Sarah Polley are the first that come to mind, but there are others. I just haven't done the research on this one).

Honestly, not a bad slate. If I had a ballot, it wouldn't look like this (I'd leave off two of these directors for two different ones. Who gets left off is a mystery we won't solve until my Best of '09 post comes out...Which is late, I know, but I'm still missing some movies), but I can't complain. At least Clint Eastwood didn't make it on here, right?


What do you think? How familiar with these directors are you, and do they deserve to get the nominations? Which directors do you think got left out this year?

Directors gone WILD

Maybe it's just me, but I find this video absolutely fascinating. So go take a look at it. Or, first, I suppose, I should give you some cliff notes. This video is a fast interview with six directors: Kathryn Bigelow, Quentin Tarantino, Peter Jackson, James Cameron, Jason Reitman, and Lee Daniels. I'm assuming I don't have to tell you who Tarantino and Jackson are.
The Others:
Kathryn Bigelow: director of The Hurt Locker, K:19, Point Break, Near Dark, etc.
James Cameron: I shouldn't have to tell you either, but just in case: Avatar, Titanic, Terminator 1 and 2, Aliens, The Abyss, True Lies
Jason Reitman: Up in the Air, Juno, Thank You For Smoking
Lee Daniels: Precious, Shadowboxer

Now, take a look:

http://video.hollywoodreporter.com/services/player/bcpid6555681001?bctid=57139948001


Back?
I love this conversation. It's really a fairly simple question, a little bit stereotypical, fairly dumbed-down, but the personalities behind these directors shine through so well through it that it's easy to see where each of their films come from.
Let's look at the seating arrangements. I don't know if it was intentional, but it's perfect, and fits the conversation to a T:
On the right side, we have Lee Daniels and Jason Reitman. Both are directors of small, quirky-ish indie movies, both of whom rely on film festivals and Oscar buzz for critical success.
In the middle: Peter Jackson and James Cameron. Inarguably the biggest, ballsiest film-makers around. Both of these men understand the word 'epic' and convey that in their movies. Both fit seamlessly into the Hollywood studio system.
On the left side: Kathryn Bigelow and Quentin Tarantino. Both film-makers whose goal seems to be making art-oriented auteur films within the constrains of typical genre fare.
In other words, they sat according to the type of films they make. (Funny side note: Kathyryn Bigelow used to be married to James Cameron; they're divorced now. Notice how Bigelow is sitting as far as humanly possible from Cameron. They're going to have to spend the whole award season competing. Love it.)
What makes this arrangement more interesting is that the subject of studio vs. independent film comes up; rather passionately, I might add. Look at James Cameron: when Reitman and Daniels are talking about their films he looks disdainful, almost angry. Their style does not sit well with him. He even goes so far as to insult Reitman's father; in the part where Reitman is talking about Kevin Smith and Ghostbusters, which Reitman's father directed, Cameron says, as an aside: "That's a good reason not to make movies." Reitman twitches a little, but keeps smiling. Jackson, too, seems a little aloof, but I'd say he's just not a fan of the schmoozing with the press scenario. He started as a quirky, indie film-maker, and I think he respects his roots. On the other side, Reitman is trying too hard to fit the role as indie director, and Daniels just looks uncomfortable. Watch Bigelow and Tarantino, though. Bigelow is utterly comfortably, almost serene, and Tarantino loves everybody. Of all the film-makers, they seem the most comfortable sharing the craft with their compatriots.
Odd. Jackson and Cameron have made millions and millions with their films, and Reitman and Daniels are both proudly off-center. But the only two film-makers at the table who seem comfortable are the ones who straddle the line between indie and studio.
Is this as telling as I'd like it to be, or are Kathryn Bigelow and Quentin Tarantino just nicer, more confident people than the others?

Animation: an evolving medium

Since its creation, animation as a form of cinema has been degraded and undervalued, accruing labels like "just for kids" and "cartoony." Admittedly, the majority of animated films released in the US earn these derogatory monikers--recent films like Bolt, Kung Fu Panda, Monsters Vs. Aliens, etc. One can make a convincing argument for animation studios like Pixar raising the bar for "family fare," with films like WALL-E, The Incredibles, and Finding Nemo striking chords with children and adults alike. As true as this may be, it's not the angle I'm looking for. I crave animated films made for, and pitched to, adults.
Animation as a medium is practically infinite in its possibility. Freed from the tedious rules of reality without needing to rely on expensive CGI, animated films can create a world in which anything is possible. Indeed, such worlds are more likely to succeed in animation than in live action, because of animation's surreal, dreamlike quality. A filmmaker can get away with the ludicrous far more easily with drawings than he or she can with the real world. A prime example: Kill Bill Volume 1. While the whole film is pitched at a pseudo-ridiculous level, the most graphic/hard to swallow part of the film (O-Ren Ishii's back-story) is conveyed through anime-style animation. Not only is this an effective stylistic choice, it allows Quentin Tarantino to dance with his innermost demons in full public display without being laughed down or shunned.
Where is this adult animation? Surely I can't be the only person to pick up on the endless potential of animated films?
I assure you, dear reader, I'm not. In fact, the world is rife with adults-only animated films. The catch? For whatever reason, they can only be found outside the USA.
Animated adult films can be found as early as 1972, in the form of Swedish-made Fritz the Cat. I would, however, like to draw your attention to a later year: 1988. This banner year for animation saw a double-barrelled salvo of quality from Japan that would redefine animation as a medium. The two films, starkly different in subject matter and style, but similar in their target audiences, were Akira and Grave of the Fireflies (as an aside, 1988 was also the year that Miyazaki released the classic My Neighbor Totoro, but, for the purposes of my article, I'll refrain from discussing it, save to illustrate how fantastic a year 1988 was for Japanese animators). Akira, an anime-style tale of biker gangs and super-powered children in a bomb-devastated Tokyo, simultaneously shocked and awed audiences with its violence, sexuality, and disturbingly surreal images. Grave of the Fireflies conveyed reality to great effect: it follows the lives of two abandoned children in the Tokyo firebombings, showing with brutal detail the day-to-day process of death by starvation. These two films opened the sluice gate for animation for adults. Since 1988, Japan has been at the forefront of mature animation, mostly thanks to the popularity surge of anime in recent years.
While Japan leads the charge, they're not the only ones running. I'd like to draw your attention to two recent pieces of cinema that clearly outline animation's potential as a medium.
The first, Persepolis, hails from France. It chronicles the story of Marjane Satrapi, an Iranian immigrant, who grew up during the Iranian revolution resulting in the fall of the Shah and the installation of Ayatollah Khomeini. The film works well stylistically: drawn mostly in black and white, its color scheme and stark images play as an effective parable of the mindsets of the people surrounding Marjane. The animation serves another purpose: it riffs on animation's categorization as kid's fare, telling a horrific story from a child's point of view. Everything in the film - the violence and occasional brutal images - seem stylized and unreal, as it undoubtedly would as viewed through the eyes of a child. Persepolis uses its medium to further its thematic intentions.
The other example, which frequent readers will be familiar with, and have no doubt been expecting to hear about, is Waltz With Bashir. Ari Folman's documentary is an exhibit of how animation can free a film from the constraints of reality without diluting the power of the images. Waltz With Bashir can be most aptly compared to a bad acid trip. Bizarre, surreal, brutal images float past the viewer, appearing and disappearing at will, arriving with a serene gravity that would have been impossible in live action (ex.: would the scene in which one of Ari's friends imagines that a giant naked woman floats him to safety away from an exploding boat have played as anything other than funny if done in live action? No. But the animation makes it seem unsettling.). Here, as in Persepolis, the filmmakers use animation thematically. In the film, one character discusses how he seems to see everything through a lens, as if everything he sees is fictional. This is exactly how the animation serves in Waltz With Bashir. Throughout the film, the audience attempts to distance themselves from the horrors displayed in front of them by reminding themselves that it's only a drawing. Then, the ending: suddenly, the animation gives way to live-action documentary footage from the Sabra and Shatila massacres, and Boom! The lens has been removed, and the audience cannot distance themselves from the grim reality presented them. The filmmaker's choice of medium allows them to deliver one of the great gut-punches of recent cinema.

The rest of the world gets the idea: animation is a powerful medium, and should be treated as such. Only America is slow to the punch. This might, however, be changing. Shane Acker's 9, though not critically acclaimed in any sense, represented an attempt to depart from the American animation norm. Andrew Stanton, the director of Pixar classics Finding Nemo and WALL-E, is currently working on John Carter of Mars, which is being touted as "animation for adults." About time.

Should America get on the ball? Am I wrong about animation? Should I have discussed any other films? Let me know!
(To a particular reader: I considered talking about Tekkon Kinkreet, but felt that pulling only one Anime example out would be strange, so I focused on films that exhibited the medium instead.)

Breaking (ish) News

This hot off the press, or, rather, a youtube interview: Quentin Tarantino announces he has plans to make a sequel to Kill Bill that takes place ten years after the events of the first film. I'm just not sure how to feel about this. You may or may not know my feelings about the original film, so I'll give you a hint: it starts with an L and ends with an O-V-E. It's hard to pass up a chance to see The Bride in action again. On the other hand, Kill Bill is such a complete-feeling work that I can't imagine how a sequel will add to it. The smart money says that the plot will concern Vernita Green's daughter, Nikki, seeking revenge on The Bride. Not a bad guess, I'd say. I'd also be willing to bet that we haven't seen the Last of Elle Driver, either.

What do you think? Should Tarantino make the first sequel of his career? Is Kill Bill worth rehashing in the first place?