A Serious Man (***1/2/****)
One moment, early on in A Serious Man, clued me into the kind of film I'd be watching. The film opens with a bizarre comic-violent prologue in Yiddish, and then skips, without warning, to a Minneapolis Hebrew School in the 70s while blaring Jefferson Airplane's "Somebody to Love." At this point, A Serious Man allowed its true form to be seen: The Coen brothers do love strange juxtapositions, and the film itself would turn out to be just that; a strange juxtaposition. Is it odd? Definitely. Is it funny? In a sort of cringe-inducing way, yes. Is it incomprehensible? Not quite, but it does its damnedest. Does it work? Mostly.
A Serious Man chronicles a period in the life of Larry Gopnik, a Jewish Physics professor struggling to make tenure. His home life begins to disintegrate: his wife asks for a divorce, she's having an affair with his friend, his children seem to be concealing things from him, and his deadbeat brother refuses to do anything but drain the cyst in his neck at odd hours of the day. At work, a student attempts to bribe him, and, when that fails, sue him for defamation. As his life falls apart, Larry searches for answers: first in himself, then from his loved ones, and finally, from his Rabbis. No one seems to know what the hell is going on, or any way to fix it.
With A Serious Man, the Coens have created a film that seems like an in-joke, but manifests itself as something more. Their film is a meditation on why bad things happen to good people. I found the film to be a biblical interpretation of sorts: The book of Job (in which God allows Satan to pimp-slap a righteous man to the ground in order to win a bet), liberally laced with the elements of the story of David and Bathsheba (which I won't expand upon, for spoiler-avoiding reasons, but if you know the story, you can guess the sort of things that happen). All of this is, of course, conjecture. Any attempt to fit some definite moral or theme to this film is like coming up with plots for the dreams you have: they don't exist while you're having them, but upon waking, you need continuity to make sense of the experience you just had.
The acting is solid across the board. Michael Stuhlbarg as Larry Gopnik, in particular, is quite effective. He manages to not sound whiny or annoying, which is quite the feat, considering his character's situation. Sari Lennick and Fred Melamed, as Gopnik's wife and her lover, respectively, also do wonders with their (relatively) small parts. Also worth noting is Richard Deakin's starkly beautiful cinematography: it's not showy, but creates a claustrophobic atmosphere, as if the world is slowly caving in on poor Mr. Gopnik.
There is one moment in the film that most people will see as being completely superfluous, or incomprehensible, or both. The scene in question concerns Rabbi Nachtner's story about the dentist finding inscriptions in his patient's teeth. I humbly submit this as scene as the thesis statement of the entire film: Nachtner's last (paraphrased) words? "Who knows why these things happen, but being good? It doesn't hurt."
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Your Slice of Zen for the Day
"It's impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what horror means. Horror. Horror has a face, and you must make a friend of horror. Horror and moral terror are your friends. If they are not, then they are enemies to be truly feared."
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Your Slice of Zen for the Day
"Ten words exactly. After ten it's extra. You see, Daddy thinks of these things. If I had leprosy, there'd be a cable: 'Gee, kid, tough. Sincerely hope nose doesn't fall off. Love."
Monday, November 2, 2009
All Quiet on the Blogging Front
I know it's been awfully quiet around here of late--I was travelling this past weekend. I know the correct way to remedy this is to return with a double-barrelled blast of content, but I just don't think that's going to pan out for me today. Maybe I'm coming down with something. Oh well. More apologies. I'm sure y'all understand.
Your Slice of Zen for the Day
"I remember my mom when she was dying, she looked all shrunk up and grey. I asked her if she was afraid. She just shook her head. I was afraid to touch the death I seen in her. I couldn't find nothing beautiful or uplifting about her going back to God. I heard people talk about immortality, but I ain't seen it. I wondered how it would be like when I died, what it'd be like to know this breath now was the last one you was ever gonna draw. I just hope I can meet it the same way she did, with the same calm. 'Cause that's where it's hidden; the immortality I hadn't seen."
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Your Slice of Zen for the Day
"There's not a day goes by I don't feel regret. Not because I'm in here, or because you think I should. I look back on the way I was then: a young, stupid kid who committed that terrible crime. I want to talk to him. I want to try and talk some sense into him, tell him the way things are. But I can't. That kid's long gone and this old man is all that's left. I got to live with that. Rehabilitated? It's just a bullshit word. So you go on and stamp your form, sonny, and stop wasting my time. Because, to tell you the truth, I don't give a shit."
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
A Case Study in Effective Documentary Filmmaking
Let's start by being completely honest.
Documentaries are, by nature, shamelessly manipulative. Cheap tactics are inevitable when one is attempting to make a point via celluloid. Effective documentary filmmaking is defined by the adroit manipulation of emotionally charged images, sounds, and words. How else is one expected to get one's point across?
There are, however, limits to this manipulative style that can be crossed.
You think you know where I'm going, don't you? Breaking news: this is the first and only time I'm going to mention Michael Moore in this blog post. Moore is held as a pariah of "everything wrong with liberals" by the majority of the populace, but his films work. He may spend his time preaching to the choir, but he does it well.
No, I'm here to illustrate my documentary-related points through critical examination of two films that attempt to shed light on the same subject: Religilous and Jesus Camp. One is a brash, terrifying example of filmmaking guaranteed to speak to both sides of the political spectrum; the other is good for giggles, but not for winning converts.
Let's start with Religilous. This film was dead on arrival, as far as clear, concise filmmaking is concerned, because of the baggage it brought with it: Bill Maher is, by profession, a stand-up comic. His job is to be funny. While this is all well and good, and provides for an entertaining cinema experience, a man whose first priority is laughter cannot realistically create a useful documentary. To change another person's mind through documentary, you have to treat your subject with respect. What Christian will watch Religilous, a film that plays fast and loose with facts and accuracy while holding up religion everywhere as reason for mirth, and feel that they've been shown something that needs to be changed? I'll give you a hint: it's a relatively small number, and it rhymes with hero.
The humor, however, is not my major bone of contention. Bill Maher simply cannot leave well enough alone. A competent documentarian allows his or her footage to speak for itself. Notice how Bill Maher inserts unnecessary, almost-cruel jokes into standard footage. For example: the scene in which Maher is meeting a Mullah in a mosque, and his phone rings. A skilled filmmaker could have used this footage to make a point about the clashing of ancient beliefs with modern-era sensibilities. Instead, we get some ham-handed fake texts, which, if I recall correctly, involve something along the lines of "kill the infidels, lol." How very droll. How compelling.
Throughout the film, Maher speaks and speaks, always cast in the light of a non-theistic saint, and then juxtaposes himself with interviews of people caught off-guard by Maher's bullying tactics (the interviews with the Orthodox Jews, in particular, rankle me). And the ending. God, that ending. Maher throws away his comedic tone in favor of a subtle-as-a-hammer montage of violence set to roaring opera music, claiming that religion must be destroyed in order to achieve peace. Where in the documentary has Bill Maher shown any evidence for this? He's adept in exposing the various hypocrisies and foibles inherent in any religious adherence, but he fails in trying to grasp a more global message. Overall: Religilous is amusing, but condescending, uneven, and unlikely to change any minds.
Which leads me to Jesus Camp: hands down, the most terrifying film I have ever seen. Is there any narration? Are there stand-up comics smirking to themselves? Are there montages of worlds colliding? No. The filmmakers, Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady, simply play the footage they've taken from the titular camp, and finish the film with a debate between the camp's organizer and a radio personality. Every so often, statistics regarding born-again Christians, homeschooling, etc. are shown on the screen. That's it. There's no overt moralizing. Just footage of kids going to camp. But show this film to anyone but a fanatic (this includes moderate Christians), and you will get a response. Indeed, because of the uproar caused by this documentary, the camp it studies has been closed indefinitely.
The key to Jesus Camp is that it has faith (no pun intended) in its footage. The filmmakers feel no need to throw in jokes, montages, or long, self-driven monologues. They present reality (or, admittedly, the reality they choose to convey), and assume that the public will make the right decision.
The conclusion? An effective documentary relies on footage, not outright manipulation. Find something real: don't attempt to create an altered reality as viewed through your own rose-colored glasses. I'm looking at you, Bill Maher.
Am I being to hard on Religilous? Is Jesus Camp not as scary as I think? Let me know.
Documentaries are, by nature, shamelessly manipulative. Cheap tactics are inevitable when one is attempting to make a point via celluloid. Effective documentary filmmaking is defined by the adroit manipulation of emotionally charged images, sounds, and words. How else is one expected to get one's point across?
There are, however, limits to this manipulative style that can be crossed.
You think you know where I'm going, don't you? Breaking news: this is the first and only time I'm going to mention Michael Moore in this blog post. Moore is held as a pariah of "everything wrong with liberals" by the majority of the populace, but his films work. He may spend his time preaching to the choir, but he does it well.
No, I'm here to illustrate my documentary-related points through critical examination of two films that attempt to shed light on the same subject: Religilous and Jesus Camp. One is a brash, terrifying example of filmmaking guaranteed to speak to both sides of the political spectrum; the other is good for giggles, but not for winning converts.
Let's start with Religilous. This film was dead on arrival, as far as clear, concise filmmaking is concerned, because of the baggage it brought with it: Bill Maher is, by profession, a stand-up comic. His job is to be funny. While this is all well and good, and provides for an entertaining cinema experience, a man whose first priority is laughter cannot realistically create a useful documentary. To change another person's mind through documentary, you have to treat your subject with respect. What Christian will watch Religilous, a film that plays fast and loose with facts and accuracy while holding up religion everywhere as reason for mirth, and feel that they've been shown something that needs to be changed? I'll give you a hint: it's a relatively small number, and it rhymes with hero.
The humor, however, is not my major bone of contention. Bill Maher simply cannot leave well enough alone. A competent documentarian allows his or her footage to speak for itself. Notice how Bill Maher inserts unnecessary, almost-cruel jokes into standard footage. For example: the scene in which Maher is meeting a Mullah in a mosque, and his phone rings. A skilled filmmaker could have used this footage to make a point about the clashing of ancient beliefs with modern-era sensibilities. Instead, we get some ham-handed fake texts, which, if I recall correctly, involve something along the lines of "kill the infidels, lol." How very droll. How compelling.
Throughout the film, Maher speaks and speaks, always cast in the light of a non-theistic saint, and then juxtaposes himself with interviews of people caught off-guard by Maher's bullying tactics (the interviews with the Orthodox Jews, in particular, rankle me). And the ending. God, that ending. Maher throws away his comedic tone in favor of a subtle-as-a-hammer montage of violence set to roaring opera music, claiming that religion must be destroyed in order to achieve peace. Where in the documentary has Bill Maher shown any evidence for this? He's adept in exposing the various hypocrisies and foibles inherent in any religious adherence, but he fails in trying to grasp a more global message. Overall: Religilous is amusing, but condescending, uneven, and unlikely to change any minds.
Which leads me to Jesus Camp: hands down, the most terrifying film I have ever seen. Is there any narration? Are there stand-up comics smirking to themselves? Are there montages of worlds colliding? No. The filmmakers, Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady, simply play the footage they've taken from the titular camp, and finish the film with a debate between the camp's organizer and a radio personality. Every so often, statistics regarding born-again Christians, homeschooling, etc. are shown on the screen. That's it. There's no overt moralizing. Just footage of kids going to camp. But show this film to anyone but a fanatic (this includes moderate Christians), and you will get a response. Indeed, because of the uproar caused by this documentary, the camp it studies has been closed indefinitely.
The key to Jesus Camp is that it has faith (no pun intended) in its footage. The filmmakers feel no need to throw in jokes, montages, or long, self-driven monologues. They present reality (or, admittedly, the reality they choose to convey), and assume that the public will make the right decision.
The conclusion? An effective documentary relies on footage, not outright manipulation. Find something real: don't attempt to create an altered reality as viewed through your own rose-colored glasses. I'm looking at you, Bill Maher.
Am I being to hard on Religilous? Is Jesus Camp not as scary as I think? Let me know.
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