It seems strange nowadays, but I do have difficulty even picking a film.  Maybe I just do not want to waste my time watching some garbage.  The major difficulty is, of course, in defining what garbage is.  I can only pass a judgment after having watched a movie.  Now, I try to laugh at myself on many accounts.  This one is no exception.

Maybe it simply was awhile since I was aware of what is out there.  There is no list in my mind of what I should watch.  So I feel like a blind person in a forest.  Then I go to the “Hidden Gems” category and try picking something suitable.  Then I get stuck with what is exactly suitable.  Suitable for what?  For my mood?  For improving it or for reflecting it?  Or neither?

When I picked “Two Lovers”, it is hard to say what exactly I expected.  I think instinctively I knew it would not be a simple comedy you forget right after the film is over.  I like Joaquin Phoenix and he was so highly praised for his performance, that it was hard to resist.  The fact that Gwyneth Paltrow was there also was almost a turn-off, but you can’t have everything.  So there, the choice was made.

After having watched “Two Lovers”, I haven’t thought much about the film.  Not because I would say it was not good.  It was not thrilling; I would even say it was boring to a point.  But I kept thinking about it, which is always a sign, that the film is really not bad.  Anything that makes you think is worthwhile.

I read the reviews later.  The critics sympathized with Leonard (Joaquin Phoenix) and commented how likeable he was and how the critics knew what he should have done and how he should have behaved in order to make the right choice in love.  Pick somebody familiar and safe (and boring) and forego flashy, unstable and instantly attractive.  Save yourself trouble, trade excitement of love and a possibility of heartbreak for security, stability, maybe friendship. 

“However, while it is clear to the audience which of the two women Leonard should focus his attentions on, he instead pursues the other one.”  (Cinema Autopsy, Thomas Caldwell)  http://blog.cinemaautopsy.com/2009/06/06/film-review-two-lovers-2008/

Of course, there is truth and merit to that, but I wonder how many people could actually resist falling in love and how many of us sit and calculate the odds and the possible outcomes.  Maybe those who took the decision-making courses (you know “What-if analysis”, “Strategic Thinking”).  I know I did.  But I still prefer to be in love rather than not.  Maybe that is why Leonard is so likeable.  Not because he is bipolar, because he is very human.

That is the word – BIPOLAR. 

The film does not put such emphasis on his diagnosis and Leonard is only shown as a depressed person, rather than manic.  The diagnosis is mentioned in one of the reviews and whether it is an assumption or not, there is no way of knowing.  Being bipolar, I know the difference much better than film critics.  But, let’s say it does not matter.

But one point was so touching, so it took me a few weeks to really come back to it and remember.  Subtlety and gentleness of the film is chiefly responsible for the fact that I cannot stop thinking about it.  The first scene – Leonard is going (home?) or on his way to deliver dry-cleaned clothes – and he jumps into the ocean.  Suicide out of the Blue?

Here critics should have said that it was not advisable to jump fully-clothed in freezing water.  Oh, no, I never jumped.  I only thought about jumping from the balcony from the 20^th floor.  Oh, yes, I can sympathize.  That scene is now somewhat haunting and somewhat a relief really.  To see it from a different perspective.  You do have to jump in order to see the light of day.  To realize that there actually will be another day and …who knows what.

Just do not ask the film critics what is right and what is wrong.  Whom to pick and fall in love with.  Make your own decisions.

So, “Nein!” – 9 the Movie

It is so not me.  The apocalyptic nature of the film is so unappealing.  Gloom and doom?  I just could not care less.  Why did I watch it?  I read a review a friend of mine wrote.  That made me aware of the film’s existence.  What universe do I live in?  I am no longer aware what movies are out there.  But this one found its way….

So, nein, nein, und nein!  My German flashes are, of course, not coincidental; the Bad Guys (Military) are so unmistakably the Fascists of the Second World War.  They could have used Russians, but maybe the Germans won the Military Fashion and Paraphernalia Contest.

I watched the film with my son, who is only six (not nein yet!).  It was another suggestion of my friend.  If you are ever to watch this film, watch it with little children who won’t ask too many questions.  He was right.  Somewhere near the end, I asked my son, whether he was up to speed with the movie, because I failed to see the point.  My son said that he understood a lot.  The machine is not as clever as the dolls were and the dolls won.  The peace would be restored.  In another form, however.

One little concept I liked, though.  The scientist, who has realized too late what he has actually done, scatters his soul into these little burlap characters.  I thought that my soul is scattered in all the little pieces of writings, thoughts, reflections, sorrows, and unnecessary revelations.  No, this web site is not a diary.  Each post is but a reflection of my soul.  No, there is no device to put it together.  There is no way back.  Change is life, forward it goes with water drops with some green dots in them in the film.  In my life?  Who knows…

new word, new page, new chapter…

another change, new love, new beauty, new dance, on and on

neues Wort, neue Seite, neues Kapitel…

eine andere Änderung, neue Liebe, neue Schönheit, neuer Tanz, immer weiter

[first lines]

Arthur Edens: Michael. Dear Michael. Of course it’s you, who else could they send, who else could be trusted? I… I know it’s a long way and you’re ready to go to work… all I’m saying is wait, just wait, just-just-just… please hear me out because this is not an episode, relapse, fuck-up, it’s…

I’m begging you Michael. I’m begging you. Try and make believe this is not just madness because this is not just madness. Two weeks ago I came out of the building, okay, I’m running across Sixth Avenue, there’s a car waiting, I got exactly 38 minutes to get to the airport and I’m dictating. There’s this, this panicked associate sprinting along beside me, scribbling in a notepad, and suddenly she starts screaming, and I realize we’re standing in the middle of the street, the light’s changed, there’s this wall of traffic, serious traffic speeding towards us, and

I… I-I freeze, I can’t move, and I’m suddenly consumed with the overwhelming sensation that I’m covered with some sort of film. It’s in my hair, my face… it’s like a glaze… like a… a coating, and… at first I thought, oh my god, I know what this is, this is some sort of amniotic – embryonic – fluid. I’m drenched in afterbirth, I’ve-I’ve breached the chrysalis, I’ve been reborn. But then the traffic, the stampede, the cars, the trucks, the horns, the screaming and I’m thinking no-no-no-no, reset, this is not rebirth, this is some kind of giddy illusion of renewal that happens in the final moment before death.

And then I realize no-no-no, this is completely wrong because I look back at the building and I had the most stunning moment of clarity. I… I… I… I realized Michael, that I had emerged not from the doors of Kenner, Bach, and Ledeen, not through the portals of our vast and powerful law firm, but from the asshole of an organism whose sole function is to excrete the… the-the-the poison, the ammo, the defoliant necessary for other, larger, more powerful organisms to destroy the miracle of humanity.

And that I had been coated in this patina of shit for the best part of my life. The stench of it and the stain of it would in all likelihood take the rest of my life to undo. And you know what I did? I took a deep cleansing breath and I set that notion aside. I tabled it. I said to myself as clear as this may be, as potent a feeling as this is, as true a thing as I believe that I have witnessed today, it must wait. It must stand the test of time. And Michael, the time is now.

 http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20041007/REVIEWS/40920003/1023

 BY ROGER EBERT / October 8, 2004

I went to see “I Heart Huckabees” at the Toronto Film Festival. It was on the screen, and I was in my chair, and nothing was happening between us. There was clearly a movie being shown, but what was its purpose and why were the characters so inexplicable? I found the pressure point that is said by the master Wudang Weng Shun Kuen to increase mental alertness. Then I dashed out for a cup of coffee. Then I fell into the Yoga sutra of yatha abhimata dhyanat va, literally clearing the mind by meditating on a single object until I become tranquil. I meditated on the theater exit door.

I think this review is a masterpiece itself.  “It was on the screen and I was in my chair, and nothing was happening between us.  There was clearly a movie being shown…” To me it did sound both kind of moronic and entertaining.  I used to like collecting reviews because most of them are an art in itself.  The rest of funny lines I only highlighted.

At festivals, the moment a movie is over, everybody asks you what you thought about it. I said, “I didn’t know what I thought.” Then how did it make you feel? “It made me feel like seeing it again.” You mean you liked it so much you want to see it twice? “No, I’m still working on seeing it the first time.”

Now I have seen it twice. The movie is like an infernal machine that consumes all of the energy it generates, saving the last watt of power to turn itself off. It functions perfectly within its constraints, but it leaves the viewer out of the loop. This may be the first movie that can exist without an audience between the projector and the screen. It falls in its own forest, and hears itself. It’s the kind of movie that would inspire a Charlie Kaufman screenplay about how it couldn’t be made. The director and co-writer is David O. Russell, who made the brilliant “Three Kings” and the quirky “Flirting with Disaster,” and now … well, he has made this. God knows he’s courageous.

I am about to commence a description. Not a plot description, as I am not sure it has a plot in a meaningful way, but an account of what transpires. Jason Schwartzman plays Albert, an environmentalist who wants to save nature, and begins by saving a large rock that is all that remains from a despoiled swamp (he reads a poem beginning, “You rock, Rock.”) Albert makes a deal with Huckabees, a chain store, to underwrite his Open Space Coalition. Huckabees doesn’t care about the environment, but cares deeply about seeming to care. Jason turns out to be a wild card for them, doing things like planting trees in the middle of parking lots to reclaim them for nature right then and there.

We meet Brad Stand (Jude Law), a Huckabees spokesman, and Dawn (Naomi Watts), a Huckabees spokesperson. They are what in their limited way they interpret as love. Brad’s plan is to use Albert as a cover for a scheme to turn virgin marshland into a shopping mall. Albert, meanwhile, constantly crosses paths with a towering African exchange student, and knows this must Mean Something, so he hires two Existential Detectives to sort it out for him. These are Bernard and Vivian Jaffe (Dustin Hoffman and Lily Tomlin).

Their method is to follow a client everywhere, taking notes on all that he does. “Even into the bathroom?” Yes, even into the bathroom. Bernard and Vivian now begin to be seen in the backgrounds of many shots, or outside the windows, or behind the door, or under the furniture, taking notes. They need to see everything in his life because they believe that everything is connected, and so to know everything is to know all the connections.

Brad the double-crossing executive decides to undercut Albert by hiring the detectives to also follow him and Dawn around. Albert, meanwhile, meets a fireman named Tommy (Mark Wahlberg). Tommy is so eco-conscious that he refuses to ride the fire truck to fires, pedaling alongside on his bike. (He usually gets there first.) Tommy for reasons unclear to me knows about another Existential Detective named Caterine Vauban (Isabelle Huppert), who is from France. She is an old enemy of the Jaffes, and no wonder: French existentialists define themselves by being old enemies. Catherine has a peculiar sex scene in a mud puddle.

Everybody talks a lot, the Jaffes in particular. They do a kind of double act, finishing or repeating each other’s sentences. They seem to believe quantum physics is somehow involved in their theories, and talk about how two objects can be in different places at the same time — no, hold on, that’s the easy part. They talk about how the same object can be in two places at once.

Their discussions about this quantum phenomenon reminded me wonderfully of the explanations of the same topic in “What the #$*! Do We Know,” a recent “documentary” in which one of the “expert physicists” has been unmasked as a chiropractor, and the filmmakers are all followers of Ramtha, a 35,000-year-old spirit guide from Atlantis. Because nobody knows $#!t about quantum physics, this doc actually got respectful reviews from gullible critics like me, because it made about as much sense as most of what I’ve read on the subject.

Individual moments and lines and events in “I Heart Huckabees” are funny in and of themselves. Viewers may be mystified but will occasionally be amused. It took boundless optimism and energy for Russell to make the film, but it reminds me of the Buster Keaton short where he builds a boat but doesn’t know how to get it out of the basement. The actors soldier away like the professionals they are, saying the words as if they mean something. Only Wahlberg is canny enough to play his role completely straight, as if he has no idea the movie might be funny. The others all seem trying to get in on the joke, which is a neat trick. I will award a shiny new dime to anyone who can figure out what the joke is.

 http://www.exclaim.ca/motionreviews/generalreview.aspx?csid1=115&csid2=808&fid1=27797

Alexandra

Directed by Alexander Sokurov

By Travis Mackenzie Hoover

Alexander Sokurov is the kind of master who amazes and infuriates in equal measure — there’s no denying his artistry or his seriousness but his grandiose sweep of the arm can sometimes lapse into arrogance. But no matter what political assumptions he makes during the short running time of Alexandra, the sensitivity he brings to the material forgives all sins.

 

The Alexandra of the title is an elderly woman visiting Chechnya for the sake of her soldier son; she’s taken into his encampment and witnesses the boys as they play with their guns, gobble down her gifts of food and blithely accept the fact that they’ve been sent off to die. Our heroine is stunned at this, as is Sokurov, and as she wanders out of the camp and back to it we see her desire to live differently.

 

The movie is a nuanced and sensuous portrait of military life like nothing since Claire Denis’s Beau Travail. Though it sadly evades a proper position on the Chechnya conflict, its evocation of a normalised war culture and the lack of resistance surrounding it are better than most films can even imagine. So to are the director’s typically gorgeous golden hues and fluid, enveloping environment.

 

Cinematic critics of the Iraq war could learn a lot from this movie: its approach, which makes human what is usually idealised or demonised, might help break the deadlock between moralism and sympathy, which plagues the debate, as well as replacing the mushy rhetoric that vulgarises the discourse.

 

I’m not exactly sure that this is an anti-war movie but Sokurov’s beautiful plunge into the cosmic unfairness of it all was enough to lodge the movie in my brain and let it grow in significance with each passing day. (Proline/Rezo)

Surprisingly enough, I saw “Beau Travail”.  I even liked it.  With “Alexandra”, I had no idea what is was about when my mother and I started watching it.  I simply relied on my father’s opinion when he said “oh, it is a good movie, watch it.”  We did.  We kept watching it waiting and waiting when the “good” part will come.  It never did.  The film was dark and gloomy and it was absolutely and totally boring.  We watched the whole film and then I was so mad at my father.  “How possibly could you recommend something like that?”  I vowed not to listen to his opinion ever again.  Maybe I was angry for him for a month.

But now, when a few months have passed after I watched the film and I came across this review, so beautifully written, I made me think.  Why was I so mad?  This film is not a piece of entertainment.  It is a vision and it is a piece of art.  I should be more open-minded.  Maybe my anger was a direct result of my expectations not being met.  At that moment I was not ready to think about anything.  I was suffering.  But I am in this never-ending suffering mode.  I have to find a way to live, not just suffer.  What is a definition of a good movie anyways?  Is there such a thing?  When I watched “Bruno” and I loved it, majority of people did not share my enthusiasm.  “Oh, it is gross, it is too much.”  Too much of what?  Entertainment?

http://www.exclaim.ca/motionreviews/generalreview.aspx?csid1=115&csid2=808&fid1=27799

The Babysitters

Directed by David Ross

By Erin Oke

The Babysitters is a pretty dark, oddly amoral take on suburban life. The story starts with overachieving Shirley, a 16-year-old with a crush on Michael (John Leguizamo), the dad she sits for. Michael is restless in his home life, alienated by his formerly fun-loving wife (Cynthia Nixon), who has turned into a high-strung, overprotective mom.

In my opinion, Michael should not be so unhappy in his married life because his wife is not the worst-case scenario.  Far from it.  I actually liked her.  She seems open enough and forgiving.  She is not an overprotective mom, she did not impress me as such and the rift between the two is so common, they are just different people longing for understanding.  Or novelty or sex or happiness or maybe all of those things.  We all are.  Sex becomes too boring, life becomes too boring, and the partners are not into each other anymore.  Who said, they were a good match at the beginning?  We tend to misjudge each other.  Michael misjudged Shirley and vice versa.  What did he find in her?  Her youth?  Entrepreneurial spirit?  I found her to be repulsive.  Even her looks were in the way for me.

When Shirley and Michael start an affair, his guilt leads to a massive pay-out for her “babysitting” services. Soon other married men catch wind of the deal, and Shirley starts involving her friends in the babysitting action, taking the standard 20-percent cut of the profits for her college fund. When her business is threatened by a high school rival, Shirley uses any means necessary to regain her powerful status. Meanwhile, her surprisingly tender relationship with Michael is strained by their practical business arrangement.

It is strange how little thought it took Michael before he reached out for his wallet.  All of those people are on autopilot.  Nobody thinks too much.  Teenaged girls offer sex; well, the demand is there immediately.  If there is a “need” to beat somebody up into silence, it is done without hesitation.

Shirley is a strange character.  She totally caught me off-guard.  She accepts money with such little hesitation that it is barely noticeable.  That left me with a strange feeling.  And these teen-aged girls embark on the prostitution so easily with no remorse as if they were corrupted long time ago.  Ready for the opportunity to appear.  When I was jokingly suggesting last year that teen aged girls should become mothers and give up their babies for adoption for money to pay for their college tuition (discussion of the film “Juno”), I was given hell.  But my suggestion seems to be so innocent compared to this “Babysitting” business.

The film starts off as a strangely rosy portrait of teenage prostitution, all self-esteem building and problem-free for the girls, who are flattered by the attention of the horny but harmless older men. The film gets darker and sadder as it goes along, as Shirley starts to unravel and the business spirals out of control, but it refuses to take on a moralistic tone or judge its characters.

Katherine Waterston is excellent and unsettling as Shirley, capturing the character’s journey from awkward schoolgirl neat freak to cold, calculating businesswoman revelling in her newfound power to her inevitable fall from grace. John Leguizamo almost impossibly manages to be likeable and sympathetic in his role as the straying husband who develops real feelings for Shirley, which is a testament to his acting skills.

The film is a little reminiscent of Heathers in its dark satire of high school life, replacing that film’s exploration of violence with The Babysitters’ attitude towards sex. (O.D.D. Entertainment)

Павел Лунгин в фильме “Олигарх” продолжает исследовать загадочную русскую душу, хотя в этом и не признается.

Разумеется, свой новый фильм “Олигарх” Павел Лунгин показал сначала VIP’у. Действо проходило в кинозале Центрального Дома литераторов и привлекло не так уж много VIP’а – действующих олигархов замечено не было, если не считать таковыми Михаила Лесина и Евгения Киселева. Прохаживалась пара братьев Гусманов, рассекал толпу вездесущий Ярмольник, тусовались телевизионщики разного калибра. Тем не менее в короткой приветственной речи режиссер сладко польстил собравшимся, назвав всех пришедших в определенном смысле олигархами. “Вас настолько мало, что в зале полно свободных мест”, – заключил Лунгин, – “и именно ваше мнение повлияет на мнение простых зрителей”. Ну что ж, коль скоро автора этих строк на один вечер ввели в высокие олигархические сферы…

Павел Лунгин – режиссер серьезный. В том смысле, что снимает всегда абсолютно всерьез, без халтуры, сюжет сбивая крепко и как-то по-крестьянски основательно. Остается добавить, что так было раньше, когда сделанные на постперестроечной волне “Такси-блюз” и “Луна-парк” оказались своевременной художественной публицистикой. За “Такси-блюз” Лунгин, как известно, даже получил приз за режиссуру на Каннском фестивале. С тех пор прошло много времени. Лунгин осел во Франции, но российской действительностью интересовался весьма живо. Результатом живого интереса стала лакировочная “Свадьба” про жизнь шахтерского городка и про то, что бедность не порок, что заскорузлые шахтеры, безнадежные алкоголики и бывшие проститутки любить умеют, но при одном условии: если они русские. Миф о загадочной русской душе расцвел в этом фильме буйным цветом, и Лунгин очень обижался, когда ему говорили, что в жизни так не бывает.

Следующим шагом в освоении загадочной русской души стал “Олигарх”, экранизация бестселлера Юлия Дубова “Большая пайка”. Прототипом главного героя, бизнесмена Платона Маковского (Владимир Машков), вероятнее всего, стал Борис Березовский и его товарищи по “Логовазу”, хотя Дубов утверждает, что Платон – образ собирательный. Впрочем, это не так принципиально. Сама по себе история превращения молодых математиков-интеллектуалов в воротил и магнатов безусловно интересна. По сути это – история новой России. Группка друзей, во главе которых – Платон Маковский, финансовый гений, а заодно красавчик, немножко гусар, любитель чужих жен и водки из горла – и есть те самые люди, которые сделали Россию такой, какой мы сейчас ее видим.

Еще более интересной могла бы стать тема обретения денег: чем туже набиты карманы, тем скуднее любовь, чем больше нулей в сумме счета в швейцарском банке, тем меньше друзей. Да и не остается никого из друзей, с кем когда-то, пятнадцать лет назад, начинали свой копеечный перестроечный бизнес – писали чужие диссертации, варили джинсы, вязали веники. Все пали жертвами прожорливого золотого тельца. Один Платон уцелел (если не считать дружка-предателя), да и то – почти виртуально: для всех – погиб, похоронили, могилка даже есть. И вот сидит он, сломленный Кремлем и ФСБ, на собственной могиле, пьет водку из горла. Идти некуда, кто умер, кто предал, в Кремле – бандиты, в ФСБ – убийцы. А тут еще милицейский патруль по кладбищу проезжает: чего тут сидишь? Да вот, на собственной могиле водку пью. А те его – хрясь, хрясь – и дубинкой до полусмерти. За то, как объяснили, что похож. В смысле – на того, кто на надгробной плите. Вот классовая ненависть и до ночного кладбища докатилась. Хорошая была бы концовка.

Но Павел Лунгин и Александр Бородянский, видно, страдают общей и плохо поддающейся лечению хворью наших кинематографистов – остановиться вовремя не умеют. Настрадавшийся Платон, избитый, преданный, загнанный в угол, которого зритель уже готов всем сердцем полюбить и пожалеть всей своей широкой русской зрительской душой (даром что олигарх), вдруг устремляется к шоссе, где разворачивает в обратную сторону встретившийся на пути кортеж мерседесов, плюхнувшись в один из них. “В Москву”, – коротко бросает он. Тут хочется голоса Копеляна за кадром: “Штирлиц возвращался в Берлин. Он ехал работать”. Но Штирлицу из русской народной сказки было позволительно и не такое.

Русскому же олигарху-магнату-воротиле, разумеется, лучше быть не там, где на него покушаются с завидным постоянством. Но нет, решает Лунгин, фиг тому, кто думает, что олигарх – он и в Африке олигарх. Наш, российский воротила – классный парень, со сложной, но в целом – чистой – душой, и, как всякий русский, любит кидаться на амбразуру. Честно говоря, вообще сомнительно, что есть концептуальные любители кидаться на амбразуру, а если даже и есть, то процент олигархов среди них наверняка ничтожен. Одним словом, опять режиссера потянуло на кисленькое – урожай клюквы в фильме знатный. Кстати, в романе Юлия Дубова и концовка другая, и акценты совершенно иные.

Выбор Владимира Машкова на главную роль понятен – он красив и любим зрителем. Как нынче любят выражаться, харизматичен. И секс-символ, разумеется (Господи, и кто их только назначает этими символами?). А значит, полюбит зритель и главного героя, которого, как уверен режиссер, не полюбить нельзя. Логика Лунгина такая: “Вот у нас почему-то думают, что если богатый – значит, обязательно плохой. Я хотел показать, что это не так”. Хочется ответить контрлогикой: “Вот Лунгин почему-то думает, что если богатый – то обязательно хороший, сложный и несчастный. Вряд ли это всегда так”.

Харизматичный и сексуальный Машков, с некоторой ленцой вспоминая систему Станиславского, на протяжении всего фильма (кроме начала, где все молоды и по-козлиному восторженны) играет значительность. Синеватая небритость, пробивающаяся седина, взгляд исподлобья и заиндевевшая мимика – вот, пожалуй, и все, что нужно настоящему олигарху. И еще обязательно присутствующий во время всякой трапезы ананас на столе. Эй, кто хорошо знаком с бытом олигархов? Они обязательно ананасы едят? Если еще и рябчиков жуют – совсем плохо их дело.

В оправдание Машкова (если он в таковом нуждается) заметим, что его окружение играет еще хуже. Бледные тени, друзья жизни и заклятые враги, с тихим шелестом проносятся по экрану за главным героем, заштампованные по самую макушку. Злобный кремлевский бандит Корецкий (Александр Балуев) лишний раз напоминает, что злодей должен быть всегда мрачен; провинциальный следователь, ведущий дело об убийстве Платона (Андрей Краско, кстати, и Левани Учанеишвили, играющий ближайшего соратника героя, – самые живые персонажи), – непременно честен, имеет внешность Акакия Акакиевича и душу Данко.

Не хочется скатываться до сравнения “Олигарха” с классикой жанра – фильмами “Крестный отец”, “Однажды в Америке”, “Путь Карлито” и т.п. Слишком ясно, что “Олигарх” в данном случае – последыш, слабенький отблеск великолепных образцов гангстерско-психологического кино. А ведь акценты иначе расставь, актеров к ногтю – и получилось бы. Тема-то сама по себе хороша была. Убили.

Date:  Thu May 30 2002 11:55 pm

Author:  Bill

Subject:  Re: Counting Electric Sheep

——————————————————————————–

Thank you for your kind words, Svetlana.

You are correct; you did not say that fiction was useless! I did, however, get the impression that you had little use for science fiction. You are also correct that there are not any science fiction writers with the stature of Shakespeare. I will agree that there is a lot of pap out there. However, even as relatively young as the science fiction genre is, some “classics” are beginning to emerge. If you have not come across them, let me point you in their direction. The original “Foundation Trilogy” by Isaac Asimov is considered a classic, and was written in the 60’s and early 70’s I believe, and so does contain some dated outlooks. For instance, computers are not very prevalent in the trilogy, as Asimov had no way of knowing how pervasively computers would invade our lives.

I respect your decision that science fiction is not for you. Many works of science fiction are not for me, either. I pick and choose which ones I read, and I enjoy the selections I do make.

I, too, enjoyed Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. It was immensely funny, and I was disappointed that the library did not have the video version of it in stock, or that would have been my selection for the presentation.

If I may ask, from which book did you get your quote? It doesn’t sound like something I’m familiar with.

I agree as well with your last statement. I do not like gloom and doom, either. It is a chore for me to read books like that, because I do not enjoy them. It is one of the reasons I do not like Kurt Vonnegut’s style of writing.

Thank you for making me think, Svetlana.

Cheers!

Bill

——————————————————————————–

Current Forum:  Bonus Assignment Forum

Date:  Fri May 31 2002 9:35 am

Author: MIKE

Subject:  Re: Counting Electric Sheep

——————————————————————————–

I would just like to interject that the best science fiction starts out as quality fiction. It is the story that matters, and what makes great science fiction great is that the story could be moved to Victorian times and still be a great story. Science fiction serves simply as a backdrop to a good story. Poor science fiction is akin to movies that are big on special effects for the sake of the special effects. Good science fiction is like a film where the special effects are simply the icing on the cake.

Mike

——————————————————————————–

Current Forum:  Bonus Assignment Forum

Date:  Fri May 31 2002 9:58 am

Author: SVETLANA

Subject: Re: Counting Electric Sheep

——————————————————————————–

The book I quoted from is “Moscow 2042″. If you go to www.amazon.com it will let you even read about 12 pages of it. I think you would enjoy it even without knowing many of the references as I do simply because I know what exactly Voinovich makes fun of. It is about a possible scenario for the Soviet Union. Ironically, there would be a sort of Kutz at the end, but the immense sense humour of Voinovich makes it a great and pleasurable experience. You do not have to force yourself to finish the book, as I did with “Heart of Darkness”. And Voinovich never fails to make the point.

——————————————————————————–

Current Forum:  Bonus Assignment Forum

Date:  Sat Jun 8 2002 5:59 pm

Author: Vernon

Subject:  Re: Counting Electric Sheep

——————————————————————————–

Not to jump on the bandwagon, but I have to disagree with Svetlana on the merits of Science Fiction. Like BIll said, there are many books that are considered classics like Asimov’s Foundation and I, Robot series. They have stimulated the minds of thousands of children who went on to become some of the best scientific minds for that very reason. Science Fiction is also the first glimpse we get on what political and social issues may arise with the advent of new technologies and helps many people see the issues before they even become a problem in society.

Well-written science fiction is as stimulating and sometimes even more stimulating than many of the good fiction books out there. It allows us to not only visualise what we know today, but also perceive of a place that doesn’t exist. A place that could possibly become reality one day, for better or worse.

Like other fiction, there are a lot of works out there that are not worth reading. However there are as many titles in science fiction that have merit as there are in other fictional categories. You should give them a try.

——————————————————————————–

Current Forum:  Bonus Assignment Forum

Date:  Tue Jun 11 2002 10:07 pm

Author: SVETLANA

Subject:  Re: Counting Electric Sheep

——————————————————————————–

I agree with you and Bill and Mike. Mike probably put it the best that science fiction is only a backdrop for a good story like decorations for a stage play. And it is not the genre itself that makes it good or bad, but the talent of the author. Maybe, science fiction is a more difficult genre to succeed in because a writer needs a fertile imagination to make it interesting and substantial and not stupid and outdated in a few years after publication. Somehow, Philip K. Dick did not make it for me. Although I must admit that he hit on many good ideas worth of exploring. Too bad, he did not give himself enough time to develop those ideas more thoroughly.

But you know in light of our discussion of science fiction and literature in general, I came across the very interesting statistics. A couple of weeks ago, BBC (?) published the data that 40% of the population of Britain does not read books at all. And some 20% have not read a whole book (even once) in their whole life. I am quite positive that the same could be said about North America. So, soon the debate about literature in the “beer garden”, which I quoted, could be changed to saying that not only realism but also the whole literature is the thing of the past. It would not matter then, which genre is the best and what books are worth reading if they are not read at all.

Current Forum:  Bonus Assignment Forum

Date:  Thu May 30 2002 11:33 am

Author:  Bill

Subject:  Counting Electric Sheep

——————————————————————————–

P.K. Dick wrote this thing back in 1968. The world was a different place back then, with a different political and social climate. The cold war was at its height. The genre of science fiction was still trying to find its way. Many of today’s sci-fi fantasy authors write merely to entertain and for escapism, but back in the ’60’s, many Sci-Fi authors felt they had to convey some sort of social message in their works. The times, they were a changing, and all that.

By now, we’re pretty well familiar with some of the major issues that Dick was portraying in his novel. He wrote of the subjugation of an entire race of people. It was taken for granted back in Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness that the Europeans were just inherently superior to the natives of Africa. That did not need to be explained. Likewise, in Dick’s novel, it is assumed that of course androids aren’t real people. But he still toyed with the idea that ok, they aren’t people like us, but they still go through the motions. I’m not sure that the message that Dick was trying to convey was that the androids were equal to humans, but more as a metaphor of attitudes that people have regarding their own humanity.

Today, people are more willing to see and accept a fuzzy area between intelligence in any form. We are having theoretic discussions about artificial intelligence, and if that constitutes a valid life form once it evolves to the point of self-awareness. The human race’s consciousness as a whole has progressed beyond what it was back in 1968, and is more able to accept certain ideas and concepts.

The evolution of ideas is what will define us as humans in the future, more so than the evolution of biology.

I leave you with perhaps the most memorable quote from the movie Blade Runner: “more than anything, shows that androids have Soul”.

I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die.

-Roy Baty

——————————————————————————–

Current Forum: Bonus Assignment Forum

Date:  Thu May 30 2002 6:48 pm

Author:  SVETLANA

Subject: Re: Counting Electric Sheep

——————————————————————————–

As for the equality between androids and humans, I thought they might be unequal in life, but they are certainly equal in death. Fear of death is their strongest emotion.

About science fiction (I am pretty positive that everyone will disagree), but I happen to like and agree with this excerpt:

“Rudi is so fascinated by all this technology that I don’t think he reads anything but technical journals and science fiction. He hasn’t even read my books, although he does display them prominently and always brags to his horse-world friends about having an unusual friend, a Russian writer.

He tells me (even without having read me) that I write too realistically, realism being the thing of the past. To be honest, such ridiculous opinions infuriate me, and I am always telling Rudi that his horses are also a thing of the past. But if some people still have need of horses, there still must be some use for a literature that depicts life as people really live it. People are much more interested in reading about themselves than about robots and Martians.

I had just said this to him in the beer garden where we were sitting. With a condescending grin, Rudi replied that we should compare the sales of my books with that of the average science-fiction writer. “Science fiction,” he said self-confidently, “is the literature of the future”.

That statement exasperated me. I ordered another mass and said that science fiction, like detective stories, is not literature but tomfoolery like the electronic games that induce mass idiocy.” (Voinovich, “Moscow 2042″)

——————————————————————————–

Current Forum: Bonus Assignment Forum

Date:  Thu May 30 2002 10:49 pm

Author:  Bill

Subject Re: Counting Electric Sheep

——————————————————————————–

Thanks for your response, Svetlana.

Now… Where to begin… First, I agree with your first statement about humans and androids being equal in death. And they do have a strong survival instinct. I’d say you’re right on the mark, there.

Regarding your next statement and quote concerning the uselessness of science fiction, I would have to strongly and completely disagree with that viewpoint. And no, it’s not just a knee-jerk response. I happen to believe that if you thought about it the right way, you too would come to see the value that fiction has in our society.

First, the person whom you are quoting… I don’t get the impression that he has read much of the science fiction that he chooses to so readily relegate to the Trash Heap of Useless Things.

Let me say a few things about fiction. Not just science fiction, but all fiction. Virtually all the great works of history and society are… you guessed it… fiction. If fiction was so useless, why has only it endured through the centuries when more “useful” things have not? Perhaps, then, it might not be that useless? Rarely can we have a conversation without some reference to literature of some sort. The English language is rife with phrases lifted directly from Shakespeare that even today are still in common use. Phrases like “something is rotten in the state of Denmark”, “pure as the driven snow”, “at one fell swoop”, “in the twinkling of an eye”, and the list goes on and on. How plain and poor would our language be today without the contributions of people like William Shakespeare?

Fiction has enabled our culture and many other cultures to attain a depth and richness that often is the only thing from that time period which endures. In ancient Greece, the Parthenon and other structures are in ruin. Yet, the ancient Greek tragedies are still performed for audiences all over the world. Homer’s The Odyssey and the Iliad are a part of every well-rounded library. In pre-Roman England, very little is known about the people that lived there or their culture. Yet from that time period, the epic ballad of Beowulf has endured.

Edgar Rice Burroughs, creator of such works as Tarzan and John Carter of Mars, has this to say about fiction, “highly imaginative fiction, such as I write, demands the retention of a youthful and elastic mind, to achieve which one of my principal aims in life is to keep my body physically fit and my mind responsive to a diversity of simple stimuli.”

Or, to quote someone a little more modern, according to renowned physicist Stephen Hawking, “science fiction is useful both for stimulating the imagination and for diffusing fear of the future.” Interest in science fiction may affect the way people think about or relate to science.

Fiction, and by extension science fiction, is not useless. There is value to be had. I enjoy the journey my mind takes to far off worlds and universes that I could not have begun to imagine on my own… To feel my mind stretching as it wrapped itself around a concept that had never before occurred to me. As existing social issues were displayed to me in a new light, and my understanding of them deepened as a result. As I became less aloof from the humanity about me and came to understand and even love the diversity the people I interact with each day.

I would never say that “mere fiction” is useless. It has real value, and ultimately, as history has proven time and time again… Perhaps the only enduring value.

You can’t discover new oceans until you are willing to lose sight of the shore…

All the best!

Bill

 

What makes it so unique? … the fact that Remarque does not spoon-feed his reader page by page with ready-made attitudes, but leaves him to draw his own conclusions from the book.

from “Die Welt am Montag”

(quoted in Barker and Last, page 38)

Introduction

Erich Maria Remarque’s “All Quiet on the Western Front” is a book about German soldiers at World War I.  When the war broke out, the whole class of schoolboys joined the Army a few months prior to their official draft date.  These young boys are swept away with the patriotic rhetoric and cannot wait to go and fight for their country.  They are so engulfed by war romanticism that all they can dream about is uniform, victories, glory, popularity with the weaker sex and all other nonsense that used to portray the war in the most attractive way.  Although the infatuation with war decreases during their training days in the camp, a bitterest disillusionment is yet to come.  When the boys are sent to the front, they realize that war is nothing but mud, pain and death.  The story is told in the first person by the main character and protagonist, Paul Baumer.  It is important to notice, however, that the narrative is told from “I” as frequently as from “we” to emphasize the collective nature of the war experiences.

Erich Maria Remarque had the first hand experience of the war: he was a young soldier on the Western front.  And he wrote “All Quiet on the Western Front” because “he had […] been suffering from serious bouts of depression, the underlying cause of which remained a mystery…” (Barker and Last, page 33).

It was through these deliberate acts of self-analysis that I found my way back to my war experiences.  I could observe a similar phenomenon in many of my friends and acquaintances.  The shadow of war hung over us, especially when we tried to shut our minds to it.  The very day this thought struck me, I put pen to paper, without much in the way of prior thought.  (Erich Maria Remarque as quoted in Barker and Last, page 33).

The novel begins with such words:

This book is to be neither an accusation nor a confession, and least of all an adventure, for death is not an adventure to those who stand face to face with it.  It will try simply to tell of a generation of men who, even though they may have escaped its shells, were destroyed by the war.  (Remarque, page 6).

The major theme of the novel is futility and senselessness of war.  Remarque offers such a graphic portrayal of war horrors that it seems unfathomable why people still engage in such activities.  Why two countries have to send their men to kill each other when all they want is to live in peace.  When Paul seeks forgiveness from the French soldier that he killed, he says: “Forgive me, comrade.  We always see it too late.  Why do they never tell us that you are poor devils like us, that your mothers are just as anxious as ours, and that we have the same fear of death, and the same dying and the same agony – Forgive me, comrade; how could you be my enemy?” (Remarque, page 191).

For all the clarity, immediacy, authenticity and convincingness of the major theme of the novel, it is not very simple.  Remarque was blamed for all sins possible: misrepresentation, misconduct, desecration of the war and its heroes, partiality, emotional imbalance and pacifism.  The book was treated as a political manifesto, which it was not, and was banned in Germany in 1930 and was publicly burnt by Nazis in 1933.  (Barker and Last)

The novel was published in 1929 and soon after in 1930 the film “All Quiet on the Western Front” followed, which was a faithful adaptation of the novel.  “The landmark, epic film, made on a large-scale budget of $1.25 million, was a an Academy Award winner for best Picture and Best Director (Lewis Milestone).  […]  It was a critical and financial success, and probably the greatest of pacifist, anti-war films …” (Dirks).

Being a faithful adaptation of the novel, the film manages to convey the major theme very skillfully.  The film seems to be very realistic and authentic.  Of course, the film cannot include all of the details of the book, so there are some modifications of the original that do not distort the main message.  However, the major difference between the novel and the film is that the film does not offer such graphical portrayal of the unspeakable war horrors as the novel.  The only episode where we see such detail is the hands of a French soldier hanging on the wire.  Another difference is that the film tries to compensate the lack of descriptiveness that we see in the novel by adding more action that characters take.  For instance, in the novel, Paul never delivers a “Peace speech”, yet it does not distort Remarque’s themes because Paul’s speech is consistent with his character.

Language and Grammar of Film

In the most dramatic battle scene which helps immensely to convey the meaning of Remarque’s work there are two distinct uses of the camera: both high angle and low angle.  The battleground is being shown from the high angle: we see soldiers from both sides running around like crazy and the impression is unmistakable that they all are helpless and doomed.  They die en masse.  But soldiers are both victims and death instruments, for death is not only inflicted by inanimate objects such as shells, but also by the hands of soldiers themselves.  In order to convey this duality, the director alternates the use of high and low angles when showing individual soldiers.  We see death from the high angle when one soldier stabs another and the next scene the same content (different people) shown from the low angle.

In one of the most significant sequences, when Paul stabbed a French soldier, Gerard Duval, with a bayonet, but failed to kill him to completely, the alternate use of high and low angles is most remarkable.  Unable to escape from the shell-hole and unwilling to finish the dying man, Paul is suffering from the bouts of guilt and self-accusation.  The scene is shot from the low angle, where the French soldier lies elevated above Paul, who pressed himself against Gerard boots and implores for forgiveness.  Given the low angle, the body of Gerard fills most of the screen and he is the mute and unbearable accusation for Paul.  When Gerard finally dies and Paul gets a chance to escape, the angle changes.  Gerard is no longer important, he is just a corpse lying in mud, and for Paul, looking from above, he is small and insignificant and this experience has to be put behind.

Mise en scene

Since one of the major themes of “All Quiet on the Western Front” is comradeship, there is frequent use of circular arrangements of figures on the screen.  The distance between soldiers is shortened in comparison with what we would normally expect the friends to keep between each other.  Soldiers are often in the intimate zone of each other, holding hands, embracing and protecting each other.  In the scene, when Paul Baumer comforts his dying friend Franz Kemmerich, he puts his face against Franz’s with almost motherly tenderness and this scene looks very authentic and heart-rending.

There are also a number of motifs in the film, as well as in the novel itself.  One of them –a butterfly– was used very skillfully.  Paul used to collect butterflies in his childhood and they represented to him peace and beauty of the world that only existed prior to the war.  At the end of the film, as the war is almost over, Paul was sitting in a trench and saw a butterfly.  He reached for it as if it were the personification of coming peace and at this moment a French sniper shot him.

Editing

The director used a chronological order in the film as opposed to the novel, where Remarque used flashbacks.  However, there was moment in the film that provides logical correlation between the beginning and the end.  It was used to connect the scene where the boys went to the front line for the first time and the scene of the epilogue.  “The young men, marching in a column, look back (with a haunting, sad look) at the retreating vehicle that brought them there” (Dirks).  They all turn back one by one clinging to their escaping past and terrified of their nebulous future.  They do not know what awaits them, but we can see on their faces that they are not optimistic.  In the epilogue, the same scene is superimposed with the view of a cemetery covered as far as you could see with simple sepulchral crosses.  This artistic touch makes a very strong emotional impression and very effective conclusion of the film.  There, where the soldiers are going, the only thing they will meet is Death.

Cross-cutting is used in the film very skillfully, especially in the major battle sequence.  The action takes place simultaneously, the French attack, the Germans try to defend their lines, then the situation changes — now the Germans attack, and the French are on the run.  The director used shots separately first to depict one side and then the other to separate visually two major forces in the battle.  Often, cross-cutting is used to separate and at the same time to connect logically the event and the emotional reaction to it which helps add more expressive impact.  “When one of the [French] soldiers is annihilated by a hand grenade upon approaching some barbed wire, only his hands are left, oddly still gripping the wire.  Paul turns away in disgust, recoiling at the unspeakable horror” (Gee).  The remaining hands and Paul’s reaction are shown in separate shots thus focusing audience’s attention equally on both events and connecting them logically together.

Conclusion

The screen version is a true adaptation of the novel, which was done masterfully.  I believe that faithful adherence to Remarque’s novel together with the talent of the director and the star performances of the film cast make the film watchable even today.

However, I believe that the book has a much stronger emotional impact on readers.  So, my recommendation would be to read the book first and then watch the film.  And better yet, read the whole trilogy, comprised of “All Quiet on the Western Front”, “The Road Back”, and “Three Comrades”.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

“All Quiet on the Western Front.”  June 3, 2002  <http://www.allmovieguide.com/cg/avg.dll?p=avg&sql=A1579>

Barker, Chirstine R., and R.W. Last.  Erich Maria Remarque.  London: Oswald Wolff, 1979.

Dirks, Tim.  “All Quiet on the Western Front.”  May 27, 2002  <http://www.filmsite.org/allq.html>

Gee, Rick.  “The Great Anti-War Films.  All Quiet on the Western Front.”  May 27, 2002  <http://www.lewrockwell.com/org/gee5.html>

Remarque, Erich M.  “All Quiet on the Western Front.”  Toronto: Little, Brown and Company, 1987.