jal90's film diary

Sooo... it was about time I started a thread like this.

I'll use this thread for reviews and general thoughts on what I watch, as I watch it. So this will look a little like the "Last movie you saw" thread, but I guess a little more focused.

Just to keep reminding that English is not my mother language and that, as well as looking forward opinions, recommendations and feedback in general on the stuff I comment on here, I accept any grammar corrections and advice. Actually this is supposed to work as a way to increase and refine my expressive skills, so hopefully I can learn to be more fluent when it comes to voicing my opinion.

So that's all for the time being. I'll start it as soon as I watch something

Good and interesting review, I like High Noon and remember enjoying it when I watched it, like you say it works well with suspense and in message, because it has been a while since I have seen it I can not comment on the specifics like the music that you refer too at the moment.

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Yep, the film actually has quality and I can understand where does all the praise come from, but the experience to me gets irregular. I guess the flaws I mentioned would be easy to ignore in another context or even depending on the viewing, but they detracted some of my involvement at key points of the story. The first half in special looks rather uninteresting to me. At least it gets progressively better and as said ends in a great note.

High Noon was one of those movies i have told myself i need to see and as yet found the opportunity to.
Solid review though, nicely done

I haven't watched many since High noon, but I went through something yesterday:


I watched this (my first Malaysian movie) because I was in the mood for something very exotic. And to a point -it's true that there are some noticeable differences- it ended up being the contrary. It looked strangely familiar. It seems Malaysia or at least Kuala Lumpur is quite more heavily influenced by the Western culture than, say, Japan or South Korea. Most details of the city looked exactly how a Spanish suburb would.

That set aside, my biggest pet peeve with the movie came with the narration of the main storyline. In fact I found myself enjoying every other aspect of the movie better than the fate of Ah Peng. And what bothered me in special was its abuse of ellipsis. I understand if this resource is brought to get rid of unnecessary information, but in this movie the ellipsis is used to keep the spectator two or three steps behind everything that happens. The logical coherence of the character through the different scenes is something we have to build ourselves, and fill the holes that are left. The last thirty minutes or so in special were a huge downer for me. That is, I could understand some part of the basis in the girl's decisions through the context, but the latter decisions she makes are affected, in terms of the narration, by the lack of a coherent development through the rest of the movie (she is supposed to be in love but this love is developed in bits and pieces), therefore making them very hard to understand.

On the other hand, I found it very strangely evocative in the visual level. Not because it is really original in that sense, in fact it takes the same slow and contemplative style that many authors try, but the mere observation of the space, the depiction of the city as something rather distant, the use of silence, etc. made the merits of this movie.

It is also noteworthy the presence of some kind of cynicism. That is, the movie despite the topic it deals with (which I won't reveal for the sake of spoilers), takes a rather sober viewpoint; in that sense the final scene was totally unexpected and to me very twisted, ending in a really outstanding note.

In short, I didn't love it and I didn't hate it either. This was an interesting experience but not something I'm really going to keep in my memory for long.

Time to necrobump, and start to use this thread again, isn't it?


The opening scene of The General features our main character walking to his car and sitting in... only to get shot three times and drop dead at his seat. What a great moment to start a life story.

We've seen this structure before and quite a few times, but it's always a nice quirk that makes an interesting opener. What follows, of course, is a flashback narration that, after spending a few rather inconsequential minutes in Martin Cahill's childhood, finally finds the tone it wants to tell a story about the most notorious Dublinese criminal of all time, his rise to fame and his constant fight against the law, courts and police officers he will never be able to get rid of.

The solid effort of Boorman in terms of camera work and the jazzy soundtrack that gets much, much better when it decides to stick to instrumental, allow for some very effective stylization that manage to overcome the fact that there's nothing that looks very original from storytelling aspects.

Still, there's no denial that The General has some interesting ideas to display in terms of narrative. The political subtext allows for a quite subversive view of the Irish social system in the eyes of somebody like Cahill, who often delights on pointing at the corruption of the institutions, always siding against the law and with the marginalized society, be it out of personal conviction or, more often, to find a way to hide his crime record. Also, it's worth nothing that, for a movie that talks about such a renowned criminal, this one is surprisingly down-to-earth and Boorman takes care of keeping that tone throughout. There are not large cocaine mountains out there, there are not mass shootings and certainly no signs of flashiness. He keeps a low profile in the whole movie, which makes his criminal doings even more fascinating to witness on screen.

Of course, nothing of that would work without a rock-solid main performance, and this one delivers really well. Brendan Gleeson is great as Martin, with his strangely charismatic presence, the quirks he introduces to the character, and the wide range of facets we see him on: the cocky self-proclaimed victim, the loving father, the cold-blooded and analytic criminal. Everything works here, and the result is a likeable character, one with obvious flaws and hypocritical to the highest extreme, but also one who manages to root for him in a way, while not condoning his acts and not minding to spend time and energy to show how much of a prick he is.

So with a great performance and construction of the main character, this movie succeeds at its most critical aspect and brings something memorable for the audience. But is that enough to make a truly great experience?

Well, it turns out it isn't. In fact the biggest flaw of The General is that, while it does what is crucial incredibly well, it fails at addressing anything else properly. Long story short: the side characters suck. They barely have any presence in the narration, let alone charisma, and they are always treated as sidekicks for the often too focused on Cahill narration. They don't have recognizable motivations, they don't follow clear lines of development... Even Inspector Kenny, Martin's sort of arch-enemy, is severely underplayed in the film. There are very few confrontations among these two and sadly we know more about their relationship through these few instances of expositional dialogue than through their actions.


In the end, this is a rather worthwhile entry on the crime/mafia genre, which has a lot of personality and some aspects that are no short of excellent. One that fails to resonate deeply, however, due to inconsistencies in quality provided by its way too polarized narrative focus. As a film about the personality of Martin Cahill, it is as great and fascinating as it could be. As a film about Martin Cahill as a whole, it is severely lacking.

With the year gap contra review count ratio... I think this is the shortest film diary I ever saw.

Jokes aside. Welcome back to the review game!

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Thanks!

It's indeed a very short one so far, but I'll try to fix this now that I'm at it

Well, here goes my first experience with Chantal Akerman, a director I've been meaning to check for years, and I didn't know what I'd find here to be honest. It turns out to be an avant-garde documentary set in New York which consists of long takes of the city, while a voiceover narration reads letters Chantal's parents sent to her.

Something so austere, yet at the same time so meaningful as the observation of the routine of a city intertwined with the nostalgia for family and homesickness is the driving force of a deeply introspective work that, while keeping a simple structure, manages to provide a reflection on Chantal's current life, her environment and the things she misses. In the images of this film there is a sense of observational curiosity that at points leads to fascination, but also the feeling of being still tied to her roots, and the slight awkwardness of being in a place she doesn't fully belong to.

The problem, however, is that more often than not in my case, this is me projecting what I want to see in the film. These themes are certainly prevalent, but for some reason I don't get fully invested on the movie's style, which leads way too often to a complete detachment from its emotional discourse. It is still beautiful, and when it works and evokes it's no short of amazing, but maybe due to not being used to Chantal's unique and sort of demanding narrative approach I couldn't make the best of this experience.

To a point, as well, I would blame it on the movie. Particularly due to one specific scene, one I tried to not even like but see the point of, and failed. It involves a tracking shot in a bus; Chantal simply puts the camera in the window and films while the bus moves through the city. It is very long, lasting around 8-10 minutes. Then the scene is cut abruptly. The problem I had with this was not with the premise of simple observation, that would be fine, but actually the uncomfortable feeling that at this point of the movie I cared more for what the images represented than Chantal did. The way she shoots this and how she ends the scene transmits a feeling of arbitrariness to me that I interpret as an emotional detachment. And that, in a movie that is conceived as a personal journey, is a strong issue. If I don't perceive personality or intent in the images, I can't get properly attached to them.

As said, maybe it's me not being used to the director's language, maybe just an arbitrary reaction from me that doesn't have much ground, but it certainly affects my enjoyment and involvement on the main idea of the movie, and in retrospect, kind of makes the whole experience less effective. Still, there are merits here that I can't and won't deny. My own limitations set aside, there is something inherently beautiful and charming about this film that, when it becomes explicit, allows for an enthralling experience. Sadly not as continuous as I would have liked it to be, but worth the ride nonetheless.