first look: juno

"Juno"
dir., Jason Reitman
2007

Teenage pregnancy comedy/coming of age ensemble? Yes, please!

a shot in the dark

Within the first few frames of Andrew Dominik's "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford" it is certain that this not a generic western, but instead something a little more audacious and poetically of the times. It's an inspired and visually sumptuous meditation on celebrity, compulsion, and identity. The west in this film is not black and white and full of good natured farmers and evil doers that come to pillage and infiltrate the utopian bubble of the range, but a murky world of mythos, troubled and complicated men, and shades of gray where motivations are clear and present and eventually dangerous. This could be the flawed master work of art that everyone forgets this year because of its inventive celebration of cinema and intelligent themes

It's difficult not to wonder if it's master cinematographer Roger Deakins or the inspired direction of Dominik with whom can be credited with the genius and lush camera work in the film. Deakins expertly and effortlessly lights scenes, shoots through unusual looking lenses that blur the edge of the frame, and looks to the abandoned skies for his visual touchstones. The clouds are always moving and the wheat fields constantly bristle against each other in what could very easily be described as Terrence Malick-esque, but where Malick connects spiritually with nature, Dominik/Deakin look at it as a way to mythologize the personage of Jesse James. He's not saintly but there is something about him that separates him from everyone else. The light hits his haggard and worried eyes a little bit differently, the plains are on fire in his very presence, and the fading sun is a little more melancholy than usual as we see our glorious anti-hero stuck in his own iconography and discontent. He is nothing more than a myth, a dime store novella, a caricature that is fleeting but fearsome and famous. Brad Pitt's clever and soulful performance resonates in a way he's never performed before. In some scenes there is the sense that maybe this is a way for Pitt, an icon and fodder for gossip and pop culture intrigue himself, to come to terms with his own bouts with fame and media attention. He is essentially a product to be bought and sold at the cinemas and checkout aisles in the tabloid section of the neighborhood grocery store, but he's also a human being. The line is greatly indistinct to most and that is the downfall of Jesse James. He too is self-aware of his own brand but the film suggests that he didn't resent it or question it but embraced it and knew the only way to truly solidify his mythic status is by dying for his public. Who is the true coward then? The man burdened by fame or the man desperate for it but too confused of his own identity to truly realize it? The film never says it explicitly, nor should it and that's what makes it such a provocative piece of work. The characters, the cinematography, the portrayal of the west, it's all somewhat lonely and elusive, never proclaiming too much but what's there is smart and immensely watchable.

There's quite a bit to feast on throughout the film on a sensory level but one subtextual point that is explored more obviously in some scenes more than others is the ambiguous sexuality of many of the characters. Robert Ford's intense desire for Jesse James could easily be labeled a repressed homosexual love for his hero, but Casey Affleck's dangerous altar boy looks and awkward ticks and gestures imply that Ford was a confused kid wrapped up in pop adulation and ragingly insecure in his own skin. There is one scene in particular that is reminiscent of a very similar moment in Anthony Minghella's "The Talented Mr. Ripley", an equally stirring take on identity and sexually/morally indeterminate denizens, when Tom Ripley (Matt Damon) lovingly and uncomfortably watches Dickie Greenleaf (Jude Law) bathe. Ford cowers behind a corner watching a steaming and dripping wet James bathe in solitude. He utters something schoolgirlish like, "I've never seen Jesse James without his guns." The equation between guns and the phallus immediately come to mind, giving scene in an interesting tension. You think for a minute Ford wants to jump in with James but he would probably go into convulsions at the sight of a naked and unmasked James. It's that naivete that doesn't make him entirely definable in terms of his sexuality but instead an obsessive fan creepily viewing his idol in a time of vulnerability and repose. However, James allows him to watch, implicating himself in the equation. Who wants and or needs the other more?

The phallus in fact is rampant throughout the film in the form of the name of one of James's gang members, the sizing up of Ford's "pecker", and the gleaming beauty of the nickel plated gun/penis substitute James gives Ford in the last act of the film. In this regard the film is a true western. Men are defined by the size of their gun and what they can do with it. Ford's meek appearance may suggest weakness or performance anxiety but he's involved with several murders in the film, exacting his prowess where ever he goes. The men in the film come across as more concerned with their own guns, literally and symbolically, and less about the women in their lives. The women are relegated to set pieces and are never given proper screen time, except Zooey Deschanel who makes the most of her near cameo role. The most egregious error in the film is the woefully underused Mary-Louise Parker as the doting wife of James. Her part feels edited down as if there were some great scene she had but was content with smiling and preparing meals for the rest of the film. Elements of the film such as this almost detract from how contemporary the film feels.

For a film where the ending is known in the title, there is more than enough to chew on and derive infinite pleasure from the 160 minutes the film commands. A train robbery scene at Blue Cut that opens the film is something worth going back to the theater to observe and Mr. Pitt done up like John McCabe in a bulky fur in the winter portion of the film is something to behold as well. There is something very original and daring about this film that makes it so special that you feel the studio dropped the ball with the slow release (it opened in larger markets almost a month ago and it's still only playing in 163 theaters nationwide) and almost non-existent marketing. This is an art film that recognizes its cinematic exuberance and cultural relevance. The old west has never looked so alien and sad and perhaps the same could be said for how we live now.

first look: the diving bell and the butterfly

"The Diving Bell and The Butterfly"
dir., Julian Schnabel
2007

Was that Lenny Kravitz?

top ten

One of the my favorite parts of subscribing to the monthly Criterion Collection enewsletter is the personal list of top ten favorite films on the collection as decided by someone with envious taste and credibility. This month it's Kate and Laura Mulleavy, the designer sisters behind the couture inspired label Rodarte. Their delicate, whimsical, and dreamy designs have yet to impress me, but I do think they know what they're talking about when it comes to film. Take a look:

1. Beauty and the Beast, dir. Jean Cocteau
2. In the Mood for Love, dir. Wong Kar-Wai
3. Hiroshima mon amour, dir. Alain Resnais
4. Fanny and Alexander, dir. Ingmar Berman
5. Picnic at Hanging Rock, dir. Peter Weir
6. Jules and Jim, dir. Francois Truffaut
7. The Silence of the Lambs, dir. Johnathan Demme
8. Metropolitan, dir. Whit Stillman
9. Amarcord, dir. Federico Fellini
10. La collectionneuse, dir. Eric Rohmer

Click here for a more in depth explaination behind their love for these fine films.

balenciaga: in conclusion

Bitch, Please has made her rebuttal and it's as eloquent and intelligent as I expected it to be, but it made me think of how different men and women view fashion, and in a larger sense the cultural womb we all splish splash in. The best art is the art that divides and conquers thought and it's interesting that a parade of floral print dresses can stir a debate about money, sex, and power. What a perfect paradox that the mind of Nicolas Ghesquiere produced something so uniform and homogenized and yet everyone has a diversely varied reaction to its vivid and almost confrontational aesthetic. I'm curious how this total look will translate to the streets and its overall influence in terms of trends but I guess we'll have to wait until the season is back in bloom.

in defense: balenciaga spring/summer 2008

Although I declared Alber Elbaz's full on display of weightlessness and comfort for Lanvin the best of Paris, I was thinking in terms of clothes that express the perfect marriage between fantasy and reality. Those clothes can literally transport your way of thinking but also go with you in a literal sense. That's what I want out of clothes for myself as a man and I think women look undeniably sexy in as well. However, fashion, or Fashion with a capital F, wouldn't exist without those rare collections, or more specifically the presentations, that shoot at us like a driving and propulsive dart and dare us to rethink what we thought was possible. Nicolas Ghesquiere's Spring/Summer 08 collection for Balenciaga still stings in my mind and not for why most women can't wear it but the beauty of the execution and the relevant and prescient ideas imbued in each stitch. I think this was the most controversial and divisive collection of the season, more so than Marc Jacobs, because the grand standing theatrics and self-referential nods to celebritydom that Jacobs let hang over his collection are non-existent in Ghesquiere's collection. It's less coquettish and deconstructed in an obvious way where as there's a dangerous attitude in the clothes that seriously considers age, wearability, power, the future, optimism, and femininity in such wildly arresting ways that you can't help be bowled over by its genius.

Shape so it seems is the thread that agitates the most in the collection. The Pom-pom shoulders, the brisk hemlines, the hard-looking contours that make the models look stiff and unable to move, the emphasis on hips and bust, and all of the other fit and construction techniques Ghesquiere employs are not entirely meant to constrict and scream fuck off to any over size two, small breasted woman but it's a celebration of the form and its relationship to power in the modern world. The shoulders that jump off the figure reminded Ghesquiere's audience that women are just in control as their broad shouldered male counterparts. The Coke bottle silhouette is a welcomed respite to the current trend of sack and baby doll this that infantilize or shame women of their gorgeously natural curves. It's also achingly sensual in all of its close to the body, laced up purr. Ghesquiere wants us to keep thinking that shape is perhaps the most important factor of how or why people wear clothes. We want something to flatter or deemphasize or add, but what about a new shape that demands we think a little more into the future when the idea of luxury in relation to what we wear in the streets is no longer subjected to "wearable pieces." That's what I always find so fascinating in his point of view is his ability to look into the future but keep it contemporary and relevant. The notion of pants, top, and dress are arbitrary, so why not give them, and us, a new set of rules? There's more personality in a look that is less homogenized in its shape and form than the trend everyone is following. We'll go along with any new color, print, or material but to ask us to give up our shape is daunting and almost too authoritative. However, it keeps the idea of fashion going in that every season we can only see some variation on the skirt, blouse, pant, so why not give an exact point of view that is confident and unwavering in its proposition and a little thrilling in its exciting curiosity for newness and forward-thinking.

Perhaps Ghesquiere's greatest challenge will be the prints. The bold and beautiful floral prints that to me communicate an optimism about the world are fresh and alive. The world as we know it is full of shit and pigs but in that we can look at the truth and beauty in things and naturally, nature is a great reference point for an artist to expound upon. The world outside the window can be more attractive than some esoteric film reference or some tired homage to an ancient and influential designer. There have been rumblings about ageism attached to the idea of prints in that older women typically wear them, but would they wear a floral mini? This is a youthful and aggressive collection that shouldn't entirely alienate older women but it's hollow to think that older women prints prefer florals. There was a playfulness in those prints juxtaposed with the hard exterior of their couture inspired armor/outerwear. The pom pom accented shoulders or the mini-suits were harmless in their approach. This is a head on collision with florals and it's completely unashamed in its sweetness.

Ghesquiere has never not surprised or intrigued with his odd takes on futurism and luxury. This is the same man that envisioned $10,000 gold leggings that could have easily passed as costume from "Star Wars" (and that's a compliment). I like that he keeps forging forward so effortlessly and without regard for things that are safe and wearable. I'm not suggesting these clothes will look good on every woman, nor should they in their non-conformist shapes and prints, but you cannot deny Ghesquiere of his deft ability to incite and inspire us all.

*Check back for the rebuttal from Bitch, Please. In point/counterpoint style, the lovely scribe at Bitch, Please will reply with why she didn't like the collection. Take my side for now.

i'll take a jennifer connelly spread any day

It's one thing that the new issue of Vogue Paris features a foppish buffoon on the cover, but an entire spread devoted to A&E reality stars? I support the appropriation of subcultures to introduce new ideas to a mainstream audience, but it's such a stretch to suggest that there is anything related to art or fashion in this spread. Are they being mocked or used as a prop?

Daria Werbowy and Duane "Dog" Chapman & co.
photographed by Bruce Weber

For more click here.

the conversation

This guy makes me proud to be from Kentucky. He's articulate, charming, and he plays with the idea of being a movie star and George Clooney in his film choices, which is always a pleasure for us as his enamored audience. His passion for film, politics, and closing down restaurants is especially endearing in this interview with Charlie Rose.

wash over me

It has been raining for two days straight, which is only nice because it's some semblance of weather patterns effecting the area other than hot and more hot, but it drains the life out of me. I am so lethargic and slovenly when it's raining outside. However, it is prime opportunity to get cozy on ye old futon and watch a plethora of DVDs. Although it hasn't happen yet (I've been kinda busy studying for the GRE and planning a dinner for 12, which will I will write about don't you worry), it does remind me of how much I like the aesthetic of rain in film. The symbolic imagery for water is endless in its interpretations, but to me there is something very sexy, cleansing, unifying, and uncomfortable about watching people kiss, fight, talk, emote, etc. in the rain. Here are some of my favorite moments that are just a little bit better due to the soggy, rain-soaked beauty:


"Pride & Prejudice"
dir. Joe Wright
2005
Joe Wright's contemporary vision of the traditional story of unrequited love and pinning is especially romantic and telling in the rain. What they almost do at the end of the scene is just as explosive as their argument.

Other notable moments:

• The opening credits of Jacques Demy's "The Umbrellas of Cherbourg"
• The climactic battle in Akira Kurosawa's "Seven Samurai"
• Jeanne Moreau declining an offer in a car in Michelangelo Antonioni's "La Notte"
• Rutger Hauer's death in Ridley Scott's "Blade Runner"
• Woody Allen and Diane Keaton fleeing an impromptu shower in Allen's "Manhattan"
  

cheap trick

Roberto Cavalli for H&M
You know that feeling of repulsion you get at H&M when your fingers graze over the truly cheap pieces? Well, yeah, I'm certain this would happen with the Roberto Cavalli collection hitting stores soon. Skinny vests, sheer shirts, bronze scarves???? I imagine these clothes will have a better life in the discount bin six months from now. And surprise surprise he used gold everything and animal print for the womens items. Zzzzzz.

photo courtesy of fashionista