Writing a weekly column about the movies is usually easy, as there is such a
wealth of topics that the depth of subject seems near bottomless. Other
times, though, you can simply find yourself staring at the blank page like a
character out of some crazy Hollywood movie.
But pardon me for getting all Kaufmanesque and stuff. And I know you've
been anxiously awaiting the pieces on the return of the documentary, Tagalog
film, the editor as unsung hero or the films of Jordan Belson, Len Lye,
Julien Duvivier and Georges Franju that I've been considering. But that's
just going to have to wait. This week I'm feeling way too scattered to
concentrate on one topic; instead, I'm just going to do what a local
sportswriter calls "cleaning out the desk drawer of the mind." With any
luck, this might even end up being worth your while to read. If not, my
apologies in advance for an undisciplined collage of a column. Hopefully by
next week my Milestone DVD of The Cook and Other Treasures will come so I
can go back to expounding on a single arcane subject instead of just
rambling incoherently and tossing out whatever shiny tidbits flit into my
celluloid-fevered brain. This time around, however, that's all you're gonna
get.
I'm not sure how this happened, but when Dan Krovich and I wrote a
preview of the films coming out in 2003, we both somehow managed to overlook
Guy Maddin's Pages From A Virgin's Diary and Eli Roth's Cabin Fever. The
former is a vampire movie from everyone's favorite silent film worshipping
Canadian and the latter is a horror piece about a bunch of friends menaced
by a flesh-eating virus in a remote cabin in the wilderness. How did we
ever bypass these two potential gems?
In scouring all the 2002 year end lists out there I've come across a
bunch of interesting looking projects by people that I'm ashamed to say that
for the most part I've never heard of. Suffice it to say that if there is
ever a way to purchase Bernard Rose's film Ivans XTC in any form other than
a brutally expensive PAL videotape, then I'll be all over it. I would also
gladly drop coin on a DVD of Gustav Deutsch's Film 1st 7-12, Francisco
Plaza's Il Segundo Nombre, Phillipe Garrel's Sauvage Innocence or Hidenori
Sugimori's Woman of Water. Not to mention anything at all by the Austrian
Peter Tscherkassky (especially the 2002 Dream Work) whose movies seem to be
completely unavailable on DVD. Which of course just intrigues me all the
more.
Shortly after writing last week's piece on Korean cinema, I noticed that
Miramax scooped up yet another project for a remake, Gwangbokjeol teuksa
(Jail Breakers). With the concurrent news that Takashi Shimizu will
apparently direct a Hollywood version of Ju-On and that Hideo Nakata may
have been approached for an American try at his Dark Water, you can see that
the Asian gold rush is in full swing by the studios. Is this hegemonic
cultural imperialism or simply cross-pollinating artistic globalism? Take
your pick.
I've been badmouthing Video on Demand's future for nearly as long as I
can remember, and since John Malone promised it over a decade ago that's
worked out pretty well for me thus far. But in doing research for an
upcoming article it has become clear that though this technology is still
nowhere near replacing your local video outlet and won't really generate
much revenue for companies in this calendar year, it's actually getting to
the stage where it may begin to have some impact. Realistically, as a
profit generating entity the golden era of VOD is likely still a few years
off, but it seems probable that an age where this service becomes a regular
reality has actually ceased being little more than a CEO's pipe dream. The
implications on a global scale are truly enormous, even if there are still
some large infrastructure issues to deal with.
As someone who has been going out to the movies for longer than I care
to remember, I'll admit that the megaplex theaters are now getting close to
reaching a critical point where I will no longer patronize their operations.
Since I live in the northeast, ticket prices are bumping right up against
the ten-dollar a show barrier, and for that somewhat princely sum audiences
are actually expected to suffer through a passel load of car commercials and
other advertising before garnering the privilege of seeing the movie. Now I
know there's no real substitute for seeing a film projected on a screen, but
if Loew's continues to try to shove advertising down my throat while at the
same time engaging in continual ticket price inflation they will eventually
find this customer's money going elsewhere. If they actually believe that
I'm going to continue to drop Hamiltons just so they can merchandise the
crap out of me, they will find themselves sadly mistaken.
-Existing in the nebulous half-world between fan and critic (though I am
certainly much closer to the former than the latter), I've watched the
mini-brawl between the two groups with interest. I don't think that film
critics have ever been held in as low esteem as they are now, as many seem
to object to their perceived intellectualism and inability to toe the
populist line. Though I have my own reservations about many critics, I
personally think that this is a bit sad. While I don't ever read reviews of
movies once I've made up my mind that I'd like to see something, there are a
handful of critics whose work I do enjoy reading for perspective once I have
viewed a film. I feel that what's important about the critics that I like
is that they have a much better grasp on historical issues than I and they
have seen so many more films that often their insights allow me to
understand certain films better. It's unfortunate that those who enjoy
going to the biggest films every weekend have such a knee-jerk response to
writers who sometimes attempt to champion more aesthetically inclined work.
That people seem to only want a parrot who will reflect their
tastes instead of an informed filter who might point them in directions
beyond the popular is a bit saddening to me. Poor Pauline Kael must be
spinning in her grave.
Any regular readers of this space know already that I'm a great fan of
purchasing movies from all over the world. The hefty decline of the dollar
of late is making this pastime a bit more expensive these days, but I've
still managed to get DVD's in from Britain, Hong Kong and Thailand recently
and I'm now gazing longingly at the French version of Hou Hsiao-hsien's
Millennium Mambo. The internationalization of film made possible by the
Internet is truly one of the great things to happen for fans in a long time.
And for anyone interested in this sort of thing, I just thought I'd pass on
an invaluable resource: this post at DVDTalk
lists retailers from all over the globe, so if you're looking for that
obscure Argentinian film this is the first place to look for a vendor.
You might think that with the riches already released to DVD (not to
mention the growing pile of unwatched films in my living room) that I'd be
satisfied with what's out there. Well, you'd be wrong. For one thing, I
still think that there should be a two-disc collector's edition of Jaws.
This is one of the few Spielberg movies I accept without reservation, the
film that launched the blockbuster era and there's only a single (albeit a
very high-quality one) disc? It's too bad Robert Shaw isn't around to get
hammered and record a hilarious commentary track, but I truly think this one
needs the dual disc treatment. Hell, give us the full two-hour documentary
from the laser disc, a couple commentaries and you're practically there
already.
Beyond that, there are plenty of old Hollywood films that still need to
be released - and there also are likely a number of invaluable historical
commentaries that have to be recorded with aging stars as soon as possible.
I was disappointed that the remake of The Reckless Moment (as The Deep End)
didn't trigger a release of that Max Ophuls-directed project to the new
medium. Additionally, where are his other three Hollywood films - The
Exile, Letter From An Unknown Woman, and Caught? I could additionally stand
to see a box set of Harold Lloyd films, and I sure wouldn't spit at
releases of films such as Dark Passage, The Tall T, The Unholy Three, or
Gun Crazy. Moving on to more recent history, how about a high-quality
Special Edition of Videodrome? That movie would sure benefit from the added
attention. Or Alligator, maybe? Perhaps you could get Robert Forster and
Robin Riker in for discussion tracks. (John Sayles might be too busy being
righteous).
Lastly, the new trend I'd like to see in DVD commentaries is tracks from
people on movies that they're now completely embarrassed to have been
associated with. I would gladly have picked up Piranha II if there were
only some shamefaced James Cameron dialogue detailing his discomfort at
having had to work on such lowbrow fare. Also nice would be commentary
tracks by people on movies that were huge and unmitigated disasters.
Wouldn't you like to hear Warren Beatty and Dustin Hoffman try to blame each
other for Ishtar? How about a Howard the Duck Special Edition with a
special Tim Robbins audio track? And I'll continue to hope for the David
Lynch Dune commentary for all eternity. I'd also love to hear harsh
haranguing on Hollywood remakes done by the people who directed the
originals or whose treasured novels and stories were altered beyond
recognition by Tinseltown hacks. Wouldn't bitter, vitriolic diatribes be so
much more entertaining than listening to some bilious no talent boringly
explicate their trite meanderings?
