About Chocolate Parfaits

The Guard

Time for more rantings: I am not particularly efficient these days. I should work on my take-home final and I need to make some more progress on research. Feeling guilty for watching too many movies, I have now stopped doing that, but now there’s a compulsion to compensate for that which has now officially kicked in: I plan to go to school on Sunday just to get Starbucks mugs for cheaper (and hope that they will be there!), I am meeting with people for lunch today and Saturday, and I prefer thinking about things I want to buy rather than things I want to do. (Going on a trip on Christmas is the big exception here. But then again, that is also an extremely money-consuming endeavor which will serve my desire to escape the stressful world of work at the moment.) I totally am aware that

But then there are these movies which fall out of the scheme. I am not watching such films to escape anything, I am watching them because I really, really want to. Pixelmatsch ranked it second in his Berlinale 2011 list (I think that is only because he is biased towards “Come rain, come sunshine”) and later on, Loris and other people heartily recommended it to me. It was a film I had extremely high expectations for, I was excited almost to a physical level when I finally could watch the film.

“The Guard” did not disappoint. It had great actors and a very fluid, suspenseful storytelling. I absolutely loved the way the film was referencing other genres (haha Western shootout!) but I could not help but constantly compare it both to “Memories of Murder”, with which it shares the theme and the scenery, and “In Bruges” with which is shares Brendan Gleeson and almost everything else – atmosphere, human interaction, silly philosophical villains, a relatively weak female character, the ending. The McDonaugh brothers are geniuses, and while I still think that “In Bruges” is the greater film, “The Guard” has its own merits. Hopelessly funny and with some sweet surprises here and there, it focuses very closely on Brendan Gleeson’s character and develops it better. Unlike “In Bruges”, he is a little bit of a representation for the sloppy, proud and openly racist Irishman. The racism is a prime example for why he’s a complicated character – the black FBI he befriends says he cannot figure out whether he is really smart or really dumb. I’d say you cannot quite figure out anything about him. But no matter how he really is, whether he is good or bad – all these things we see about him make this character unusually likable.

As with “In Bruges”, the end makes you ponder. When I see a film like this with an open end, I prefer to think of them as such but with the strong possibility that the person survived. I am optimistic like that. In both films, it is as if the entire story was designed to let the character who might have survived live at the end. In the case of “In Bruges”, Gleeson’s character practically sacrificed himself for the other; in the case of “The Guard”, the open end fits the character, but it also makes a lot of sense. He needs to escape the bigger bosses who are pulling the strings behind the drug business, and faking his death even if it is to his closest friends is the safest way to achieve that. If he is smart, which I’d expect given his great reasonings throughout the film, then this is almost the obvious course of action. In that respect, I am quite happy to see a film that is so consistent in its writing and makes so much sense.

Here’s hoping that “The Guard” will achieve the success it deserves. If you didn’t like “In Bruges” (how can you not?!) you will most likely also not like this one. But if you do, “The Guard” is a must see as it was perhaps one of the most enjoyable films I have seen this year.

La Grande Illusion

I finished 5 paper reviews today, most of which I am rather unsatisfied with, but then again there is no good reason to spend an incredible amount of time on paper reviews. They were mostly bad papers and the really good paper was interesting but I would prefer to read the paper version of it, because the 4-page-version doesn’t really give you enough information. Or maybe I am really too dense to understand the paper but I choose not to believe that. On top of all that, The Big Boss sent me an e-mail this evening, making me feel really really guilty for not having worked hard enough. With that said, I decided to write this posting first and then write the one for “The Guard” later, although I saw it earlier.

On another completely unrelated side note, I wonder if you can get “Dial M for Murder” somewhere in its 3D version and then use some 3D glasses to watch it. But I guess the technology must be different and so I have no idea how that is supposed to work.

After digressing so much, I should probably say something about the film itself. But I will do so by digressing more. I was recently told that I like “Big Bang Theory” because I am as nerdy as the guys. That is a valid point but not entirely true. Certainly I am nerdy but I have almost no interest in physics whatsoever. I always thought I did, but learning more and more about it, I came to the conclusion that physics doesn’t excite me as much as it does for many of my friends, and that there are a lot of aspects of it that I just am unable to buy. On the other hand, I like to dance, I am into buying clothes, jewelry and shoes (although not as much as a certain other person) – technically I am like Penny and the guys at the same time. There is another similar example: I recently had a discussion on how boring I think biomedical engineering is. I called it the uncanny valley of the world of science and engineering – if something is close enough to what I do I find it interesting, if something is far away, there is a good chance I find it fascinating. If you tell me that you think about biomed before you go to sleep and you are not doing that because you are going to make tons of money in the industry, I am probably going to declare you crazy and lose interest in befriending you. I am into the extremes, no matter what it is. However, if you are into anything in the humanities or arts, there is a high chance I would find it interesting too. In the same way, there is the category “cerebral movies that I don’t watch”, even though I normally like them. I should have added “La Grande Illusion” to this category.

Actually the film not really that cerebral and the sophisticated aspects of the film actually help. I liked the topics the film addressed. The decline of the Ancien Régime, the differences between classes, human friendships overcoming national borders – all of these are really beautifully and carefully treated throughout the film. All in all, it was a well-written film which was suspenseful (but much less so than other French films such as “Le salaire de la peur” or “Le Trou”), had some lovely characters and really awesome actors supporting them. Boeldieu and Rauffenberg were perfectly cast, I think there are no two other actors who could possibly have pulled that off. But I guess that concludes it. Despite all that, I think the film is simplistic and portrays a world which simply has never existed. To me the film merely represents wishful thinking, something like Renoir’s personal utopia in which a German woman would fall in love with a Frenchman during the WWI, and in which every major character is exceedingly good. The film is the French “Casablanca”, though of course it’s not as bad. It’s one of these films which looks almost targeted at the American audience which loves these fairytales praising human goodness. Of course the French hated the film for portraying likable Germans and the Germans hated it because the most likable character in the film was the Jew. (This fact actually makes me like the film more.)

All in all, “La Grande Illusion” has drowned dead in its politics and I had some seriously issues with its optimism. If a movie shall be judged by how realistic its characters are, this is probably the worst film of all times. Nothing about it particularly stood out and even though I think it’s good I saw it, I find it totally overrated for being such a highly acclaimed film. But who knows, maybe there is some irony here which I am unable to see.

Friends with Benefits

After seeing “No Strings Attached”, it was clear that this film must be watched as well, and if it’s just for comparison’s sake. I had a feeling that “Friends with Benefits” would be the better film because it garnered much better reviews, and so it had to come second.

Well, the comparison is awfully easy. “No Strings Attached” was stupid and conservative to the point of being almost infuriating, whereas “Friends with Benefits” might be a little simple but certainly didn’t have this touch of conservativeness to it – thankfully nobody marries in it at least. While “No Strings Attached” is a rom-com (this somewhat pejorative abbreviation for “romantic comedy” totally fits its description), “Friends with Benefits” is much more like a modern screwball comedy: People fast-talk throughout the funniest scenes, and the unusual, hilarious, beautifully shot beginning captures silly break-ups so well that I immediately got a good start into the film. “This is a movie I want to see more of”, I thought. Furthermore, sex scenes are shot with a pleasant easiness. Unlike in “No Strings Attached” (which tries to be raunchy and ‘exciting’), the actors simply stay in the bedroom, but they display the actual convenience of being in a non-emotional relationship: You can say openly what you want without having to feel embarrassed about it.

Certainly the film has a few weaknesses. Somebody is trying to play Woody Allen by putting a lot of New York love into this, the film was way too short (I think there are a lot of scenes especially with the mother and the gay friend which got cut out) and the film becomes a little emo after the amusing sex part is over. The characters’ confident and funny front is obviously only a mask to hide their lack of self-esteem, but all of that felt really lovely because it pretty much makes sense.

If you want to watch only one of these two sex friends movies, I’d definitely say you should go for this one. Justin Timberlake is a million times funnier than Ashton Kutcher and Mila Kunis owns Natalie Portman by a million. Here’s hoping that she will become a big star like she deserves.

The Crush

Two blog posts, two e-mails, and a whole lot of work. That is pretty much what my life is looking like right now, and since I feel like I have not slept enough yesterday, I begin with these blog posts which I’ve been meaning to write before Thanksgiving weekend. Thanksgiving was a disaster, and I vow to never celebrate anything else besides Christmas and birthdays unless it’s really necessary.

Currently I really like watching these movies which have practically nothing to do with my life, and I am strangely coming to appreciate these teenage cult movies like “Heather” or, well, this film. It’s really not a good movie, and for the majority of the film, I felt not at ease with the characterization of Darian. Turning a 14-year old into this terrifying monster, while the main character being practically innocent, feels a little strange. I am pretty convinced such crazy children do not exist, and that this is probably some very strange form of male fantasy, considering that said 14-year old monster comes in the form of Alicia Silverstone.

Nevertheless, the non-chemistry between Alicia Silverstone and Cary Elwes makes the film worthwhile, the former perhaps the most beautiful woman in this world, the latter surprisingly cute. Considering that the story was suspenseful but ultimately straightforward and a little bit pointless, the entire weight of the film is carried by the protagonists’ performance. Alicia Silverstone is amazingly sexy and scary, and Cary Elwes looks amazingly scared, so all is well. Ultimately, I think I practically watched the film just for her, because I love seeing my favorite actors’ early performances (Jean-Pierre Léaud!) and because in the particular case of Alicia Silverstone, she totally has not been given enough good roles. Perhaps Darian Forrester is even her greatest role for lack of others.

I saw this movie pretty randomly on a blog post which was mostly a musing on the word “crush”. The mentioning of an Alicia Silverstone film with that title sounded extremely intriguing, so here I am. Apart from that, however, there aren’t any particularly good reasons to see the film unless you have a sudden desire for something deliciously 90s and would like something else than a high school flick.

Le Roi de Coeur

Today is one of these days where I am amazingly tired. I want to go to sleep early and have time to kill, because I don’t think I can do anything productive. The things I could do are: Watch a movie and blog about it, write e-mails to friends, read newspaper articles, clean up my apartment and wash dishes, do actual work. Thinking about it, when I am home, these are the only things I do. I started cleaning up my apartment but it’s boring and tedious. I am interested in von Randow’s analysis of Sarkozy, but my brain does not compute enough to handle such articles articles and for the same reason, I feel like I should not write e-mails when the result might be bad. The people I have to write to deserve better than that. Now, I watched a movie and am worried that my blog post will succumb to the same fate, but then I realized that “Le roi de coeur” actually stirred up emotions which I thought were interesting.

At first, “Le roi de coeur” seemed unlike any other French film. Just by glancing at it, it looks dated, very much unlike the timeless style of the Nouvelle Vague. The clothes here belong into a theatre, not into a movie. Since the storyline also seems fairly chaotic throughout the whole film, I wasn’t really sure what to make out of it at first. But as expected, I came to understand the eccentricities of the film very quickly. They just dress like that, they are crazy but actually not crazy at all. When I got that the film has to be understood as a fairy-tale, that unlike most other films about crazy people, this film is not supposed to be realistic by representing actual mental people at all, I felt different about it. In fact, above the superficial and silly side, I thought the film was actually extremely subtle and deep. The film goes very closely into the direction of theatre and the members of the mental institutions are a slightly modernized version of the fool from the Middle Ages. They can say all these things that “normal people” would never say; by presenting you with their own logic, they make you realize that not everything we do makes sense at all. Certainly soldiers won’t just kill each other at sight like they do in the film, but as an allegory there is some truth to it – soldiers in war are the craziest thing, and that was just a humorous way of showing it.

“Le roi de coeur” is a little bit like “Turandot” – very poetic, very symbolic and it follows its own rules. Despite the lack of realistic characters and obvious humor (it’s not a ha-ha-ha kind of film but the humor is more subtle), the film showed an amazing humanity. These crazy characters are so fascinating and enthusiastic and likable. They wear their hearts on their sleeves, and that generated a few immensely touching scenes especially towards the end. I was much more moved by this humanity than I ever would be by listening to Shostakovich’s “Leningrad”.

I heard that the film was not popular in France, but very much more so in the U.S. Well, truth to be told the Frenchness of the film does indeed look… odd. It might also not help for the French that French people speak French, Germans speak German and the Scottish speak English here. Plus the Scottish kilts are funny to the point of being almost sexy but they might offend your average French machismo. Considering that the film has a plethora of continuity errors and totally a confusing plot, I am also not surprised that it became something like a cult film. It’s also much closer to the American image of France with all their brothels and silly costumes, but I like that. I am happy to see a French film that is neither Nouvelle Vague nor overly intellectual (I do count “Les Valseuses” or “Themroc” as intellectual film).

You must be wondering why I watched the film in the first place. Indeed, none of my usual sources of films (recommendations from any of you guys or lists of best films or certain websites like “They shoot movies don’t they?”) would actually contain this film, and even if it did it probably wouldn’t have caught my eye. The solution to the mystery is the following: I got a recommendation for this film from the category “professors I had a crush on” (as Loris would have put it). I come to the realization that I really have a certain for life in other epochs and was quite fascinated by the fact that grew up with all these movies that we watch today because we are culturally interested people. Of course I asked him if he watched a lot of western too, and he said he prefers Italian over American western films.

If you feel like watching something different, which is so entirely different from anything you have seen before, go and see “Le roi de coeur”. It is special in so many senses.

Onegin

On an episode of “The Big Bang Theory” I recently watched, the term “Weltschmerz” came up. Leonard’s crisis was probably something different from what I think Weltschmerz is (specifically, it was way too comical to be seriously qualified as such), but the term hits this version of Onegin pretty well.

To some degree, I am feeling some sort of Weltschmerz today, but strangely, just stating the problem exactly, as in admitting precisely what it is, was enough to realize how much these are bogus problems, ephemeral moods, no more. It did not really help much that I also watched a Eugene Onegin adaptation. There are some stories that I would watch over and over, starting with Shakespeare plays (specifically the Midsummer Night’s Dream, Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet and Macbeth), and whose stories I know by heart. I could even cite from some of them, and especially after this film, I am pretty sure I can cite some of the most memorable and dramatic lines from Eugene Onegin as well.

I have an obsession with the Midsummer Night’s Dream, but Eugene Onegin tops it all. I don’t think there is any story out there which I feel more empathic towards than this one. The most important elements here are the fact that Tatiana declared her love and that, at the end, she rejects him even though she loved him. Let’s start with the first, easier part. I do not know another woman besides myself who would declare her love for a man, let along write such a declaration of love – which, for me, is even stronger because if it is written down, you can never take it back. In today’s society, there is some female emancipation out there, but when it comes to this detail, women let men take over too often. In my experience, the first moments of a love story are crucial, and Onegin makes no difference in it. It is important that both Onegin and Tatiana fall in love with each other at first sight – this interpretation makes the failure of their love story so much more tragic. If we assume that there is honesty both in Tatiana and Onegin – that she didn’t fall in love with him because he was rich, exciting and new in town, and that he didn’t fall in love with her because she turned into an elegant princess – then the two of them exemplify the saddest “it could have worked out” type love story ever.
The end is even more exciting than that. To me, it always looked incredibly grand what she is doing. Continuing the assumption that she truly loved Onegin, but even if she didn’t, she manages to do something which a similarly passionate, loving person could probably never do – let go of the person you love, even though the feeling is mutual, no matter whether it is out of respect for a husband or for the sake of petty social norms. One might construe this as a weakness, the inability to step over the social bounds and morals that you were brought up with, but knowing how hard this is, I cannot help but view it as grandeur instead.
Onegin could be interpreted in a similar way. On the assumption that he loved Tatiana ever since the beginning, even if this love started off as something different than hers, he was indeed merely honest. He knew of his incapability to commit, so instead of compromising her honor and hurting her feelings by playing around with her and then leave her, he chooses not to take advantage of her feelings because they were deeper than his.

What I really liked about the film was how it emphasized on the duality between the main characters. Both Tatiana and Onegin say at some point in the film that their lives is hollow and empty, to be exact, Onegin does so at the beginning of the story and Tatiana does at the end. They are unable to act against what their torn society made them to be – Onegin is forced into the duel with Lenski and Tatiana is forced to marry another man and stay faithful to him. Both could have potentially said no at some point, but neither is capable to do so. In the film, their letters to each other are being shown almost one after another, showing how similar they are. Certainly Onegin’s letter is more verbose and more beautifully written, while Tatiana’s feels much more honest and truthful. But both show that they have a similar concept of love. They are both calling out for the other’s to respond favorably; they are both ashamed and in fear that the endeavor will be unsuccessful; both are aware that their letters are inappropriate, Onegin’s because he is writing to a married woman and Tatiana’s because she is a woman. Both declare that they cannot be without the other and in both cases it becomes clear that their lives will indeed remain empty throughout their lives, making them unrealistic novel characters as opposed to, say, Tatiana’s family.

At the end of the day, I watched the film partially because I also watched Tcherniakov’s production of Tchaikovsky’s opera, and I wanted to talk about it. The opera was great, in every sense, but I suppose what I wanted to talk about the most was the story itself. The biggest difference between the opera and the film is that Onegin’s declaration of love in the opera seems silly and superficial and puts him into a horrible light, whereas Tatiana’s passionate love letter takes up 1/4 of the whole opera. (Perhaps I am exaggerating but it certainly feels that way.) Liv Tyler’s Tatiana seems much, much less passionate, but feels more like the ice beauty who deeply suffers from the inside. Ralph Fiennes… I couldn’t quite care for him, though he made Onegin a much more likable person than the opera version. Liv Tyler did her role so much better than Ralph Fiennes, though their chemistry together was good, so I am not complaining.

There are many things I watch as a die-hard fan, and the Onegin film is definitely one of them. I love the story and it is very pleasant to see it in the context of these wonderfully pastel-colored, almost Sofia Coppola-like backgrounds. Everything – costumes, cinematography, lighting – I thought the film was a visual feast and transports its message quite well. The movie just looks awfully un-Russian and very, very British in its coldness, which is why I would absolutely discourage anybody of you to watch it, if you are not as much of a fan of the Onegin story as I am.

Themroc

It might have occurred to you that I have a tendency to accumulate a backlog of blog postings to write and then write like 4 all at once. For me, there are movie watching days and there are movie blogging days. Today is definitely a film watching day, but I did my best to turn it into a blogging day as well.

“Themroc” is one of these obscure films that I would never have heard of if it wasn’t for the recommendation of somebody else. In this case, 312 mentioned it to me while we were talking about restaurants in Berlin. It totally blows my mind why anybody would want to name their restaurant after “Themroc”, it’s a perfectly unappetizing movie.

There is something strangely erotic about naked bodies in French movies. For some reason, even when they are not perfect, they look exciting but there always is some odd fakeness to it. The ultimate eroticism is still the Spanish language, it sounds and looks genuine even when it is fake. Maybe this is an odd relationship I have with the neighboring languages which I sort of understand (English, French, Spanish, Italian), but it’s reflected in how I perceive movies.

Before I started watching “Themroc”, I had no idea that the film has no discernible dialogue. In fact, I have been trying to find subtitles for it to no avail. Silly me. Instead, people brabble some unintelligible quasi-French and the main character mostly moans and screams. This makes the audience focus on how things are said, how people look like, and shows that so many things can be shown without any specific words. You want to sleep with a woman? Just grab her boobies. Quite an interesting concept.
Apart from that, the film wasn’t really anything special to look at, and due to the lack of dialogue I personally found it hard to follow. The cuts were well-made and the rough esthetics of the film definitely fit its concept. It’s also not hard to see the crazy 68-ness of the time the film was made in and the social criticism it comes with. I have sympathy for authority-hating anarchy in film, and this one is an especially unusual kind. It has a multitude of known French actors in it, including Patrick Dewaere and Miou-Miou, so maybe that is another thing to go for.

“Themroc” is the totally kind of strange film which fails at the box office and then becomes a cult film for no apparent reason except that it really is just very, very strange. It also has everything in it: Incest, murder (of policemen!), group sex, only actual sexual perversions are missing. It’s worth a look purely out of curiosity, and perhaps a little more as well.

PS. Currently, I am also in the process of figuring out what I actually want to do with my tablet, except for reading papers and books. I might be try to figure out how to put movies onto the tablet as well, and download a drawing tool.

Design for Living

Many years ago, all I saw by Lubitsch was “Ninotchka” and “To be or not to be”. By that time already, I declared Lubitsch to be one of my favorite directors, even though with two films, he was way, way in the back in my Directors list. Now that the list has grown to 9 films, I can finally put him next to Godard and Truffaut, the only other two directors I have seen so many films of (with the exception of my favorites of course, who I do not count in this list anymore).

For me, Lubitsch is a little miracle. He never does anything openly smart and is not afraid of actually making films which are a little silly. In fact, when it comes to light-hearted humor, I don’t think there is anybody comparable. Most of the times we like movies because they transport some sophisticated message or because they give an interesting perspective to observing their time. Lubitsch makes a nazi comedy in the middle of the Second World War, and a bohemian love comedy with artists who have nothing to worry about in the middle of the Depression. He never says anything really smart nor is anyone of his films moralistic in any sense. Most of his movies are boudoir comedies or feel-good movies on friendship and love. If he does anything political, he makes fairly naive fun of it. But I could not care less. Lubitsch films are hilarious, his characters are even more human when they do not have to subject themselves to tedious political environments, and I cannot think of anybody who has mastered the humorous interaction between people so perfectly as Lubitsch.

“Design for Living” didn’t impress me as much as “Bluebeard’s Eighth Wife” nor “Trouble in Paradise”, but it was still very, very enjoyable. There are people, mostly annoying critics without any joy in life, who find Lubitsch’s humor too slapstick Jewish. Of course I don’t think so at all, and I don’t even know why this blog post reads as if I am trying to defend him here. Lubitsch shouldn’t need any defense.

Interestingly enough, I think that Miriam Hopkins was perfectly believable as the charming little lady who makes men turn their life upside down for her. In “Trouble in Paradise”, she had the unlucky role of being the neglected girlfriend and only appeared in 1-2 good scenes, but in this film she was able to shine. It also seems I don’t feel so affected by triangle love stories anymore, since I couldn’t take “Design for Living” seriously. (I need to rewatch “Jules et Jim” to check this proposition.) Most of the time, the characters were in quite a pinch, but that didn’t keep me up from laughing whenever they said something funny. Instead, when they suffered it looked like life is so much fun nevertheless so it couldn’t possibly be that bad. In a Lubitsch film, any complicated situation can be lightened up with a funny line. Amazing.

Back in the day, I thought Lubitsch made so many movies that I will never be able to see them all. I am approaching that goal at a slow pace, but one day it will come, I am sure.

Mein Führer

I read later on that Helge Schneider was unhappy about how his role as Hitler became smaller and the Jewish part grew larger. Perhaps that is the case, but the story might not have been as suspenseful if the Jewish family hadn’t been so afraid – at least that is how I see it.

Strangely enough, I have never really heard of the film except for seeing some film posters. Nobody also seems to really care about it, although I know quite a few people who are fans of Helge Schneider. Why is that? I usually try to not see films about Hitler because I am afraid they would turn out bad or silly, but maybe this is German mass media brainwashing me. So far, I have actually always liked films such as “Der Untergang” or even “Inglorious Basterds”, and I don’t even want to bother reading because these articles they are way, way too concerned with the “moral integrity” of the film, just like they were for “John Rabe”.

“Mein Führer” is funny, it has my favorite German actor in it (yay Ulrich Mühe) and that’s all I needed. The fact that I had no idea how the story would turn out made it entertaining and suspenseful at the same time. I couldn’t care about historical revisionism and decided to take the film as a typical Dani Levy. The Jewish humor in the film felt a lot like “Alles auf Zucker” and I think that is one of its strong parts.

I would never have expected myself to say this, but it was great to have seen “Mein Führer”. If you liked “Alles auf Zucker” you’d like this one as well, and vice-versa.