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Firstly, some adjustments:
1. Before Sunset (Richard Linklater)
2. Time of the Wolf (Michael Haneke)
3. The Mudge Boy (Michael Burke)
4. Last Life of the Universe (Pen-Ek Ratanaruang)
5. Springtime in a Small Town (Zhuangzhuang Tian)
6. Million Dollar Baby (Clint Eastwood)
7. Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind (Michel Gondry)
8. Coffee & Cigarettes (Jim Jarmusch)
9. Napoleon Dynamite (Jared Hess)
10. The Motorcycle Diaries (Walter Salles)
"Springtime" deservingly moved five notches up. The marvellous EPK (which went into a lot of details that freaks like us savor; you know, stuff like the director's process) prompted a second viewing that made me admire everything that I loved about it the first time around. Delicately DPed by WKW and HHH's frequent collaborator, Mark Li Ping-Bing, the long-take, long-shot technique is in full bloom here under the masterful direction of Zhuangzhuang Tian, who has a skillful way of evoking different emotions from different actors within a single shot. A birthday celebration scene comes to mind, where the dynamics of the central love triangle is revealed through a combination of strategic blocking, facial expressions, and double-meaning words. And then there's the ending, where the two main characters quietly react to the sound of the train leaving their town, carrying along the person who has changed their lives. It's moments like this that wows me all over again the transcending power of the cinematic language.
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"Million Dollar Baby," was of course, great. I'm usually not a fan of Eastwood, but the farewell scene at the end where he... okay, I ain't gonna ruin it. Let's just say that when the translation was whispered in his raspy, husky voice, girlfriend here was a mess.
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As much as I was anticipating the new Almodovar, its arrival last Friday left me somewhat cold. I realized that towards its semi-satisfying conclusion, I couldn't care less for any of the characters. Still an essential viewing nonetheless, and it's nice to see us gay boys given the forefront treatment again. It never fails to surprise me how unprogressive Americans are in contrast. Halfway through the film, after seeing the Mexican heartthrob doning drag, revealing his bottoms (in close-up), simulating a blowjob (added with that realistic touch of removing a pubic hair from the roof of his mouth) AND wetting his fingers to lube his ass before riding a passed-out pick-up&n bsp;(all this, while reminding myself that this was indeed the opening night film at the last Cannes), I was close to getting down on my knees and hail Gael as the Man of the Century. Taking on a role like this and doing all that takes serious, gigantic balls. Will we ever develop such guts?
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I guess I'm obligated to share my thoughts about "2046." David liked it way more than I did. Don't get me wrong, it was still quite wonderful, and there were some truly excellent material (it's a must reference for close-up compositions), but overall, it just feels so... redundant. The make-up smearing sob, the say-something-meaningful- then-walk-away slow-motion, the reveal-your-secret-in-a-t ree-hole story, the blowing-cigarette-smoke-u pwards-in-the-air-underne ath-a-harsh-light pose, the heels-fetishizing shots, and the reveal-your-secret-in-a-t ree-hole story again, and again; Mr. Wong is dancing dangerously close to self-parody here. In many ways, "2046" is like a reunion party attended by characters from all of his previous films, but no one has changed.
You're still my idol, but to quote Lai Yiu-Fai from "Happy Together", it may be time to start over again.
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Somebody got their project off the ground. Don't have the full details yet, but watch out y'all!
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Everyone else beat me to this, but yes, "DEADROOM" will also be playing here. Speaking of, we have so much work to do before our first festival screening. But hey, none of us are complaining.
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