Ingmar Bergman (1918-2007)

One of the greatest filmmakers who ever lived has passed away. The legendary Swedish director and writer Ingmar Berman inspired many modern filmmakers with his groundbreaking and artistic films. He gave the world some of the best films of all time, such as the contemplation of an old man on life in Wild Strawberries and the incredible exploration of the meaning of life and death in The Seventh Seal. These masterpieces shaped the modern film world and gave great directors like Martin Scorsese and Robert Altman the inspiration to create some of their greatest works. Altman's film 3 Women was directly shaped after Bergman's film Persona. His career spanned nearly seven decades and left a huge impact in the film world with his often experimental subject matter and being one of the most successful foreign film directors ever. Personally, Bergman was nominated for nine Academy Awards, and his films won numerous other Oscars and film festival awards. Ingmar Bergman will be greatly missed and remembered as a film legend.

Fargo (1996)

In the cold, desolate Minnesota winter Jerry Lundegaard has concocted a scheme to have his wife kidnapped in order to collect the ransom money for himself and save himself from bankruptcy. Jerry, two petty criminals he meets in Fargo, North Dakota; and a police chief named Marge are just some of the fantastic characters created by the Coen brothers for their film Fargo.

Fargo is a film about loneliness disguised as a crime thriller. In the first scene when Jerry meets with the criminals he has hired, Carl and Gaear, it seems like the film may turn out to be a crime-based comedy. But as events unfold and the situations in the film become more and more bleak, the inner personal drama becomes apparent. All of the characters in the film, with the exception of Marge Gunderson and her husband Norm, are very lonely people. Jerry is on the verge of financial collapse and is unable to connect with his family, so out of his loneliness he makes a desperate attempt to save himself. His wife, Jean, chops vegetables and knits with a desperation signaling her unhappiness in life. Jerry’s father-in-law, Wade, has become a millionaire, but that hasn’t brought him happiness. The two criminals, also desperate, agree to go along with Jerry’s insane plan. Throughout the film Gaear seeks silence and has very few lines, while his accomplice Carl thrives on conversation and seeks to be around people constantly to escape his loneliness. The characters try to hides their loneliness with the polite Minnesotan dialect and speech patterns, but their actions inevitably speak louder than the accents. At the center of all these lonely people is Marge Gunderson, a happily married, successful police officer who is expecting a baby. She has obviously found happiness with her career and with her simple and idyllic marriage with Norm. This is the portrait of characters the Coen brothers have brilliantly painted in Fargo.

Apart from the memorable characters in Fargo, is the great story to go along with them. The story starts out very light, even though it involves a kidnapping, and retains an innocence that is lost through the course of the film. Once the kidnapping happens, things start to go wrong and Jerry is stuck in all sorts of dilemmas. When the criminals are stopped for not having a proper license plate, the murders begin. From this point, the story becomes more somber and more serious dramatic layers are unveiled. This story is told through a brilliant screenplay written by the Coens with ironic wit and their dead-on examples of the northern Minnesota accent. I think everyone can quote at least one line from Fargo. “That must be your accomplice in the woodchipper, there.” But aside from the great storytelling ability is their great insight into a unique part of American culture. They capture the essence of the Upper Midwest as a place that possibly breeds a type of loneliness that is so prevalent in the film with its climate, and maybe even the façade of the polite culture that hides the true feelings of its people.

The thing that really makes this piece work is the acting. All around the performances are brilliant. William H. Macy is perfectly cast as Jerry Lundegaard, as is Steve Buscemi as Carl Showalter. Peter Stormare employs the perfect subtlety in his character as Gaear Grimsrud. But of course the most brilliant performance is by Frances McDormand as Marge Gunderson. She does the most perfect Minnesota accent I have ever heard. She also makes Marge a truly multi-layered character. Marge always puts on a smiling face, but underneath she is a very clever cop who knows how to get the answers she wants, and she is also a character who has a great insight into human nature. This is especially evident in her final speech.

I think everyone who sees Fargo falls in love with it. Whether you love it for the subtle humor, Minnesota dialect, the thrill of crime, or the great story, it is a film experience like no other.

Pan's Labyrinth (2007)

In director-writer Guillermo del Toro’s new film, Pan’s Labyrinth, Alice in Wonderland meets Spanish fascism. Pan is a fantastic film of pure directorial vision full of allegorical wonders and beautiful imagery. Del Toro creates a fantasy land of horror, enchantment, fear and innocence.



The main character Ofelia, played flawlessly by Ivana Baquero, enters a new world with her mother’s new husband, the horrific Captain Vidal—a loyalist to Francisco Franco’s fascist army in 1944 Spain. Ofelia loves books, especially the fairy tales that tell of mythical creatures. Upon her arrival to the mill, where the Captain is stationed, she discovers an ancient labyrinth that she is led to by an insect fairy. Upon a later trip to the labyrinth, she meets the faun, who also has an ancient appearance—a look as if he were a part of the trees and rocks where he dwells. This design element is a brilliant move by Guillermo del Toro, who did many drawings for the designs himself having much experience in make-up and special effects costuming. The faun tells Ofelia that she is the lost princess of the underworld and in order to regain her crown, she must complete three tasks before the full moon. Ofelia is faced with many difficulties in completing her tasks, including her mother’s painful, and ultimately fatal pregnancy, and the unrelenting cruelty of the Captain. In the end, she gives her own life to claim her crown—a sacrifice made when she is shot by the Captain. The fairy tale story is ultimately a tragedy, but one that retains great truth.



In an interview with Fresh Air’s Terry Gross, del Toro revealed how important fairy tales and monsters were in his childhood growing up in Mexico. He explained its prominence in his life as a sort of religion. He said that he believed in fairies and monsters as a child like some people believe in Jesus Christ as adults. Also, growing up in a strict Catholic household, tales of fantasy were shunned, so they offered del Toro an escape from the rigidity of Catholicism. Del Toro revealed that his grandmother attempted to exorcise him twice as a child, thinking his drawings of monsters were works of the devil. Along with del Toro’s obsession with fairy tales, he also explained to Terry Gross his passion for the history of the Spanish Civil War and the attempts of the resistance fighters to stop Franco’s regime. He continued to say that the resistance effort in Spain was largely ignored by the Allied Forces in the years after the Civil War because of the focus on Hitler in WWII. So, their story is a relatively untold one.



Through Ofelia’s story in Pan’s Labyrinth, del Toro shows how innocence is killed by war. Ofelia attempts to escape the horrors of the Captain and the war by retreating to her magical quest to become a princess in a better world. Her world is being torn apart by the evil Captain and the fascism that is plaguing Spain. In the end, her baby brother is saved by the resistance fighters, but what is lost through violence cannot be regained. At the end of the film, only traces of the Ofelia’s innocence and inquisitive spirit are left. In a world ravaged by war and despaired by fascism, true innocence is lost.

Rating: * * * *

Welcome to the 60s: A review of Hairspray

Hairspray is the story of an ambitious, pleasantly plump teenager Tracy Turnblad and her quest to be a regular on the Corny Collins Show and to integrate television in Baltimore. Tracy's hair is as big as her dreams and she sings and dances her way through the musical bliss that is Hairspray. It is also a tribute/satire of 60s culture that brings out the best of nostalgia from the era. This latest adaptation of a Broadway hit comes as a blessing after the disappointing results of Rent and Dreamgirls.

It is a fun story, but it is mostly about the characters who are larger than life (in more than one way). The innocence of the Bandstand era and the civil rights movement are some of the film's major themes, but mostly it is just so much fun. The music is fantastic, as well as all the performers in the film. Forget, Jennifer Hudson, Nikky Blonsky does a much better job in her screen debut as the idealistic teen than Hudson's underwhelming Effie. The young talent in this film is fresh and very entertaining. Queen Latifah is great as the host of "Negro Day", Motormouth Maybelle. She brings the soul. Michelle Pfeiffer is equally good as Ms. von Tussle, the hilariously villianous owner of the television station. But the most memorable performances are from John Travolta and Christopher Walken. Travolta plays Tracy's mother Edna who is "welcomed to the 60s" by her daughter. Travolta is hilarious and still sings and dances fabulously. And then there is Christopher Walken as Wilbur, Edna's husband. I don't think words can properly describe the Walken experience. He is in his own league.

The great talent and fun, energetic songs make for some fantastic musical numbers. The most memorable are "Welcome to the 60s", "Good Morning Baltimore", and of course "You Can't Stop the Beat". The director Adam Shankman also choreographed the dance numbers, which are energetic, fresh, and make you want to join in on the fun.

Hairspray is over-the-top musical fun and is a pleasure to watch. It's the closest you can come to seeing the Broadway show without going to New York.

Rating: I loved it!

Nights of Fellini

In the past few weeks, I have spent many nights viewing some of Italian auteur Federico Fellini's masterpieces: La Strada, La Dolce Vita, and 8 1/2. These films represent the best of Fellini's works and show his passage from neo-realism to autobiographical surrealism. La Dolce Vita is considered by many to be the breaking point from neo-realism into a more surrealist realm that is hugely present in 8 1/2. When watching these three films, one can truly see the transformation of an artisit and his work, much like the painting periods of Picasso. Although all three of these films are very different, they have a magical quality that ties all of Fellini's work. It is a deep understanding of human nature and his quest for truth through his art.

In 1954, Fellini made the beautiful and heartbreaking film La Strada, which in English means "The Road". It is the story of a childlike woman Gelsomina who is sold by her mother for ten thousand lire to the harsh traveling performer Zampano to support Gelsomina's younger sisters. Zampano trains Gelsomina to be his assistant by beating her until she gets it right. The rest of the fable chronicles Gelsomina's and Zampano's life on la strada performing on street corners and in circuses. On their travels, Gelsomina meets Il Matto, or the Fool. Il Matto taunts Zampano relentlessly, and Zampano threatens him with death. Although this character has a tragic flaw, he tells Gelsomina that it is her purpose in life to accompany Zampano, so she continues to follow him. On the Criterion Collection DVD of La Strada, Martin Scorsese gives a wonderful introduction to film. Scorsese considers La Strada his favorite of Fellini's films, and it is easy to see how Fellini's neorealism influenced many of Scorsese's films about life in New York City and the challenges the people of the city faced. Scorsese also comments about the influence of Zampano on many of his film characters, like Jake LaMotta in Raging Bull. But aside from the influence Fellini had on him, Scorsese gives a wonderful insight into the heart of the film and of Italian neorealism in general. He mentions how the neorealists used the teachings of St. Francis of Assisi as major themes in their films. After researching the Franciscan teachings, the influence of them is clearly evident in La Strada. Though Gelsomina is very childlike, she has a saintly demeanor that perfectly paralells the life of St. Francis. She loves everything unconditionally and has a passion for all of God's creation, which is how St. Francis lived his life. In the widely known Prayer of St. Francis it says "Where there is hatred, let me bring love; where there is sadness, let me bring joy...it is in pardoning that we are pardoned." Gelsomina lives by this law in her life and in loving Zampano, forgives him for her suffering. But when Zampano kills Il Matto, her spark of life is exinguished and she is consumed with Il Matto's death, saying continually "The Fool is hurt". Eventually, Zampano leaves her and goes on, but in a redeeming act of kindness leaves with her the trumpet she loved to play. Years later Zampano hears the haunting tune Gelsomina played on the trumpet and learns of her death. After this he falls into a drunken depression and in the final frame is seen crying desperately for his lost redeemer. With La Strada, Fellini creates a perfect film that exemplifies the trademarks of Italian neorealism by showing an impoverished Italy jaded by the horrors of WWII. Redemption through a childlike saint is offered to a broken and battered man who has forgotten how to love, but in a cruel world of war and poverty, the hope of redemption seems lost. War has destroyed the Franciscan virtues of love and redemption.

The next movement in Fellini's art comes in La Dolce Vita, an expose on the Italian culture that arose out of the despair after WWII. Fellini explores the meaning of life and the search for love by exposing "the sweet life". The grand opening shot shows a giant statue of Jesus being taken to the Vatican on a helicopter. The main character Marcello, an exploitative journalist, is following the statue on a helicopter behind the other. As Marcello follows stories about the rich and famous, he searches for meaning in his life. A beautiful young actress arrives in Rome and he is infatuated with her, and eventually takes her to the Trevi Fountain in one of the film's most famous scences. Marcello discovers he doesn't want that celebrity life, so he follows the lead of a story about a miracle of two children who claim to see the Madonna. It is obviously a fake and is exploited grandly by the paparazzi, a term coined from this film. After his experience with the miracle he goes to friend's home who seems to have the perfect life: two children, a wife, a large home; yet something troubles his friend Steiner. He fears peace because he suspects behind it lies the greatest evil. Marcello continues his search with parties, women, and journalism, and then learns of the double homicide and suicide commited by Steiner. When this happens he gives up his search and leads a meaningless life of decadence. In the final sequence Marcello is on a beach and sees a young girl he met at a cafe. He is separted from her by a channel of water, symbolizing his separation from the girl's innocence and a life with meaning. In this epic film, Fellini shows how meaningless things like religion have become, and how other truly meaningless things like celebrity, money, and "the sweet life", have created a decadent culture. The once meaningful principles of people like St. Francis of Assisi have been battered and beaten until they are no more meaningful than a Hollywood harlot. The transformation from La Strada to La Dolce Vita is evident in the slightly surreal elements of the film, beginning with the statue of Jesus, the party at the castle near the film's climax, and the beach scene at the end. It is a small preview of the totally dreamlike 8 1/2 that follows.

8 1/2 is Fellini's first venture into the world of surrealism and the precursor to his later, very autobiographical films. Fellini started making this film without really knowing where it was headed, much like the main character Guido's dilemma in the film. The film opens with Guido stuck in traffic in his car where he becomes extremely claustrophobic. People look on with ominous still glares and eventually he escapes and floats above the traffic and above the ocean. But he is attached to the ground by a rope an is pulled back down into reality. This sequence sets up the theme for the film of a man wanting to escape the madness and pressures of the world and forget his past. Guido is a womanizer, but is married to a wife who is growing more cynical by the day. He is working on a new project, but doesn't know what it's about. While he is negotiating the workings of the film at a spa, he has visions of his mother and father; his childhood in school; summoning Saraghina to do the rumba. The most lavish and poignant of all the dream sequences is when he dreams of having a harem filled with the women in his life competing for his attention and catering to his every need. He sends the ones who become too old upstairs to live, and when this happens he is faced with the reality of how badly he treats women. But the best of these sequences is the final one at the spaceship launch tower, a prop that was built and had no use, where everyone from his past and present joins in a circus of music and dancing around a ring. Through this surreal masterpiece, Fellini offers a more lighthearted message than his other, more serious films. He states through all the madness that if we live our lives with regret and in the chaos we create for ourselves, we will never live freely and have meaning in our lives.

These three mesmerizing and amazing films chronicle the journey of a great artist through three unique phases of neorealim, post-neorealsim, and finally surrealism. Although Fellini is a master of his craft and one of the greatest directors who ever lived, he is never pretentious in his work. He retains a graceful, human quality in all of his films that has become widely known as "Felliniesque". His films are carefully choreographed films and play like the most fantastic ballet where every step is perfect and at the end, you know you have witnessed something beautiful and extraordinary.

Evening (2007)

This new film with the tagline of having the greatest actresses in the world (Meryl Streep, Glenn Close, Vanessa Redgrave, Toni Colette, Claire Danes, etc.) is about a dying woman, Redgrave, and her contemplation of "mistakes" in her past. Well, it was a mistake for me to see this film. I admit that I was suckered into seeing this film because it starred some of my favorite actresses--any time Meryl Streep is on screen, you can bet I'll be there. Despite the negative reviews I had already heard about this film, I drove forty miles and paid eight dollars (not including gas) to see a certified disaster.

The film begins with Toni Colette and Natasha Richardson gathered around their dying mother's (Vanessa Regrave) bed. Their mother was reliving her past and saying some crazy stuff, much like any alzheimer's patient. The film shows her glory days as a beautiful young woman, played by the beautiful Claire Danes, searching for love in New England. Of course she had a few romantic moments with a man she was destined never to marry and made her wonder if her whole life was a mistake. It was. There was also a weird supernatural part of the "night nurse" played by Eileen Atkins. I love Eileen Atkins, but this attempt at adding a mystical element was literally laughable. It might've worked if the whole movie were a mystical search for meaning like Fellini's 8 1/2, but since no one can be Fellini, it wouldn't have worked.

The film dragged on for over two hours--well beyond the maximum amount of contrived emotion a normal person can handle. This film failed on many levels: the script, direction, plot, and emotion. Its only good qualities were the actresses and the cinematography; everything else made me want to commit suicide. The film reminded me of an overly dramatic and contrived Pat Conroy novel. I hate Pat Conroy novels. I found myself waiting and waiting for something to come along and save this movie from itself. Actually I was waiting for Meryl Streep to show up on screen. She did, for about a split second. It amounted to less than the average cameo. It was as if she came on the set, did her acting bit, and then realized what a disaster it was going to be, so she left. I think the person with the best lines was Toni Colette, but her scenes were out of place and did not work for the most part.

The entire film was disjointed, confusing, and basically a waste of time. I found myself laughing hysterically in some parts--and this is supposed to be a drama. The funniest part was Glenn Close's meltdown after her son dies. Her hysterical screaming was hilarious! Near the end of the film, after hours of tedious, contrived emotions, I thought about something one critic said which was "At the end I felt like screaming to Vanessa Redgrave 'Just die already!'". I couldn't agree more!

Rating: * 1/2

Classic Film Paradise

I recently had the great opportunity to view some of the greatest classic films on the big screen: Bringing up Baby and Singing in the Rain. These two films were played at a local classic film festival in downtown Charleston, WV. Walking into the grand, old theater that was hosting the festival is like taking a step back into the age of vaudeville and the Golden Age of Hollywood. Its beautifully detailed procenium and rich color palate gave the perfect setting for a night of reminiscing to an age where films were still made with the care and grace that is now rare. The theater was built in 1912, so it likely played the original releases of both of these films, making the experience ever more poignant.

As the lights dimmed and the and the buzzing of the speakers (speakers that have probably been in use since the 50s) filled the room with a nostalgic presence, the opening titles of Bringing up Baby rolled and I was transported to a classic film paradise. The music resonated throught the room, echoing off the walls that heard this film for the first time in 1938. From the first scence of Cary Grant trying desparately to reconstruct a dinosaur skeleton, I saw on the screen a film as fresh as the day it was made. Of course, this sense of freshness was not complete without the magnificent Katharine Hepburn. She seems to transcend time with her irresistible charm, wit, and her beguiling smile. The final thing that solidified this feeling was the laughter of the audience that filled the theater at the hilarious screenplay and visual comedy that is so abundant in this brilliant film. Even the children in the audience were roaring with laughter at the scenes of the leopard and the frightened Cary Grant. A black and white film has never felt and seemed more colorful than Bringing up Baby did on that night.

After the film ended and the credits rolled, the audience roared with applause--something that rarely happens upon film-going today. The next film that played, with a slightly larger crowd, was the great musical Singing in the Rain. As soon as the opening sequence of Debbie Reynolds, Donald O'Connor, and Gene Kelly dancing and singing in the rain played, the audience cheered. The highlight of the night was definitely Gene Kelly's "Singing in the Rain" sequence that has become one of the most recognized scenes in film history. It is one of the greatest moments I have ever experienced at the movies--it alone was worth the price of admission. It is an experience of pure joy! The audience applauded after every musical number--everyone was taken captive by the film's charm. The entire film with its technicolor wonders, loveable scratches on the film reel, and the great musical numbers that never seem to age, made a perfect end to my evening back in the Golden Age of Hollywood. The words of the song "Singing in the Rain" summarize perfectly the feeling of seeing these timeless classics how they were intended to be seen: "What a glorious feeling, I'm happy again!"

But apart from the joys of seeing these great classics, I found a new hope for the future of filmmaking in a great turn of retrospection at the reaction of the audience to the films and their enthusiasm. There were many more people attending than I had imagined, and they all seemed to be enjoying the films just as if they were going to a newly released film in a modern theater. I realized that maybe film isn't dead, and that some people still have exceptional taste in what they choose to view. While looking to the past for an evening, I became inspired and ready to see a new Golden Age of cinema that other generations can cherish just as today's audiences cherish the classics I had the pleasure of viewing.