Man Bites Dog (Spine #165)

"Usually I start the month with a postman." -Ben

Two years before "Natural Born Killers" came out and showcased the media's, as well as our own, fascination with violent culture and serial murderers, four French student filmmakers would come together to make a film, a fake documentary that follows the day-to-day life of a serial killer, that begins as mere spectating but quickly spirals out of control.

The star of the film is Ben (Remy Belvaux, who's also the primary director), a serial killer who's agreed to let a camera crew follow him around on his daily exploits. As we follow Ben he shares his opinions on art, nature, and society all the while interspersed with him murdering random people, primarily the elderly and, his favorite, postmen. We also get a look into Ben's "normal" life with numerous visits to his family and loved ones, which makes the character multi-layered and, when coupled with his biting dark humor, makes him downright loveable. As the movie progresses, the camera crew go from filming Ben's exploits, which are becoming more random and motiveless, to becoming a part of them, leading them all down a path that some of them will never return from.

"Man Bites Dog" is an unflinching look at not only our obsession with violence, but it also serves to make the viewer question themselves and what it is that they find themselves enjoying. By making the killer extremely likeable and funny, we seem to excuse much of the early violence, but as the film progresses and the crimes become more real and gritty, you find yourself conflicted and fascinated all the same. Remy Belvaux's portrayal of Ben is truly incredible and is the primary selling point of the film. He's so believable that you could easily convince someone that it's a real documentary. This realism is also aided by the film's black and white low budget look. Between the acting and the look, the violence can at times take on a very harrowing tone and may be a bit much for some people, as it can feel brutally genuine. To those that can handle it, I highly recommend this film.

Naked Lunch (Spine #220)

"Exterminate all rational thought. That is the conclusion I have come to." -Bill Lee

In 1959, "Naked Lunch", a novel by William S. Burroughs, was unleashed on an unsuspecting public. The book follows a nomadic junky and his exploits, most of the book being based on Burroughs' own life experiences. The book itself is written in a barely cohesive form, so that, as Burroughs would say, the chapters could be read in any order, therefore lacking any real narrative flow. Despite this, various film makers, almost as soon as the novel was published, began to try and find a way to bring this unorthodox novel to the big screen. Considering the book's structure, every adaptation, including a proposed musical version, all would fail and lead many to label the book as "unfilmable". In 1991, David Cronenberg would find a way simply by taking a different approach.

Rather than film a direct adaptation of the book, Cronenberg made the film about the writing of it, along with some more direct nods to pivotal moments in Burroughs' life, as well as some just all-around weirdness. The story begins with Bill Lee (Peter Weller), an exterminator who's wife has been using his bug powder as a drug. Lee is also finding himself hallucinating from prolonged exposure to the bug powder, causing him to think he is a secret agent working for a giant bug. The bug informs him that his wife, Joan (Judy Davis), is also a secret agent and that she must be killed. Lee dismisses the whole thing and returns home to find his wife having sex with his two best friends and, inadvertently, he does indeed end up killing her. This leads Lee to leave America for Interzone, where he begins writing what will become "Naked Lunch". Along the way he meets a doctor running a drug ring, a doppelganger of his now dead wife and a couple of typewriters that are actually living creatures helping Lee with his "reports", aka novel. He also finds himself more and more immersed in a drug-addled state, unable to tell reality from hallucination.


Cronenberg's directing style lends itself well to such a mind-fuck of a story, and in my opinion helps to pull this unbelievable movie off believably. So much of the film could easily fall into hokey B-movie territory, from the Mugwumps to the monster typewriters, but everything is filmed and portrayed with a sincerity to it that helps contain the tone throughout. Not to mention that all of the creature effects are superb and exist as a high water mark for all practical effects in film. Add to that a very subdued, but engaging performance by Peter Weller, and you find yourself with an engrossing film that holds you till the very end.

The Seventh Seal (Spine #11)

"Faith is a torment – did you know that? It is like loving someone who is out there in the darkness but never appears, no matter how loudly you call."

 Though nearly every addition to the Criterion Collection is an incredible work of art and film, it takes a true visionary to create multiple works befitting such high praise and posterity. Of the few directors that fall into that category, Ingmar Bergman is one of not only the most beloved, but also most deserved. For our first adventure into his work, of which there will be many, we start with what a majority consider to be his masterpiece, "The Seventh Seal". Filmed in 1957, "The Seventh Seal" is, on the surface, a tale about a Knight returning home from the Crusades who encounters the personification of Death and begins a game in hopes of besting Death and carrying on his life. As the story unfolds, however, the Knight has a crisis of faith which changes the stakes of the game as well as the depth of the movie alltogether.

Set during the period of "The Black Death", we are introduced to Antonious Block (Max Von Sydow) and his squire, having returned from the Crusades only to find Sweden ravaged by the Plague. It is early on here that Block crosses paths with Death himself. Finally relieved to be on his way home and ready to enjoy life, Block gets Death to agree to a game of chess. As long as Block can continue the game, he lives and if he can win, he goes free, but if he loses his soul belongs to Death. Being a bit foolhardy and proud, Block thinks this should be no challenge. The chess game, although seemingly a convenient narrative device, actually is where a great brunt of the story takes place, at least in relation to Block's character. As the film progresses, we see Block go from playing the game so as to continue to enjoy life yet by the end he has begun playing out of fear of death due to his deteriorating faith. This faith will crumble more and more as the game wears on and Death continues to shirk answers and fill Block's mind with doubt.

Block and his squire continue on their journey home, finding themselves interacting with a variety of people along the way. This includes a band of actors whom after some altercations end up joining Block on his journey. His squire saves a young woman under attack and as such she decides to return with him and look after his home. One of the last people they meet along the journey is a young woman ready to be burned for giving herself over to the devil. Block demands of her to make her devil appear, hoping that some form will actually arrive so that he can ask it the true nature of God. She merely replies that the devil is already there. Shortly after, Block and his companions find themselves finally at his castle, yet all is not quite as hopeful as Block had anticipated and his game with Death is drawing to it's close.

The title "The Seventh Seal" comes from Revelation 8:1 which reads "And when the Lamb had opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven about the space of half an hour". This illustrates beautifully how Block has grown to feel. For years he had been fighting and killing in the name of God, but upon his return and being surrounded by and faced with Death itself, he continues feeling further and further away from God to point of wondering if God even exists. It's incredibly powerful considering the time the film was made and how that line of thinking can still inspire and provoke to this day.    

With "The Seventh Seal", Bergman created a film rife with layers and layers of depth and resonance. The film's visuals are beyond striking, from the look of Death to the landscape views of particular scenes to the using of medieval art as a form of storyboard to some of the films final scenes. This iconography has lived on to influence people as far ranging as Woody Allen to "Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey", whose Death is modeled directly off of Bergman's.  The film also boasts an incredible cast, led by Von Sydow, who brings a young, natural charisma and bravado that realistically gives way to his crumbling beliefs and despair. He really sells the fear of nothingness he thinks may be awaiting him on the other side. That's not to discount any of the remaining cast as everyone does an incredible job at adding a certain bit of life and originality to their roles.

Bergman did what many set out to do, and that's to make a film that is everlasting. Over 50 years later, "The Seventh Seal" is still able to entertain, to challenge, and most of all cause oneself to question their own beliefs. When faced with Death, do we let it slowly make its way through us and tear down our beliefs, or do we stand firmly planted, no matter the obstacle we face? All in all, an incredible film that demands your viewing.

Throne of Blood (Spine #190)

[singing] "Ambition is false fame and will fall, death will reign, man falls in vain." - Forest Spirit

If one were to have a discussion about the greatest filmmakers of all time, one would be remiss to not mention the master himself, Akira Kurosawa. Kurosawa's work is vast, formidable, universally praised and has had a lasting impression on film as a whole. Whether it be by his influence or someone blatantly lifting his ideas, Kurosawa's mark is not often hard to find. Amidst his thirty films, many of which are part of the Criterion Collection, I chose for my first Kurosawa entry to be one where he used a form of inspiration; "Throne of Blood". "Throne of Blood" is Kurosawa's own take on Shakespeare's play"Macbeth",with the setting moved to feudal Japan and also adapted to a time in Japanese history that greatly mimicked the Scottish story it was embracing. With only minor alterations to the original work, the film exists as a remarkable re-imagining of Shakespeare's heralded play, which coincidentally is my favorite of his plays.

The film begins with messengers warning of an oncoming invasion from a rival clan, which is then swiftly halted by two armies led by Washizu (Kurosawa favorite Toshiro Mifune) and Miki, two very promising samurai. While returning to base, the two find themselves terribly lost in a forest where they come across an old forest spirit that foretells the two samurai's futures within rank and power. Once free of the forest and back to their daimyo (territorial leader), they are instantly promoted and the first of the spirit's predictions comes true. Here is where the films overall themes of greed and ascension by any means necessary begin to take shape.

The truest of any comparisons to "Macbeth" lie within the performance of Isuzu Yamada. Her character, Asaji, is, for all intents and purposes, the Lady Macbeth of the film and I have never encountered such a haunting, downright creepy and numb portrayal of the character. After receiving the foretold promotion, Washizu shares the remaining prophecies with Asaji, and she is the one who spurs Washizu on towards corruption, power and murder in order to attain what has been predicted to be his anyways. This leads Washizu on a downward spiral of betrayal towards not only his friend Miki, but towards his own people while at the same time he is enjoying, to an extent, his rise in power and prestige. In the end, Washizu is turned on by his own people and, unlike the duel that does in Macbeth, Washizu is given an amazingly powerful sendoff that is very fitting of the story and of Kurosawa's style.

With "Throne of Blood", Kurosawa is able to take this renowned tale, give it his own interpretation, and make it a beast all it's own. Whilst retaining the overall moral tale, the film also incorporates its own history to the tale, along with a visual style that is positively astounding considering the film was made in 1957. I don't see it often mention about the film, but there also exists quite a horror element to the overall film. From the forest spirit, the near "walking dead" nature of Asaji, countless visions of those Washizu betrayed to the atmosphere of the film, Kurosawa builds a very dark world for the story to take place in, and I feel that it couldn't possibly be more fitting.

White Dog (Spine #455)

"I want you to shoot him now before he kills more blacks!" -Julie Sawyer

All it took was a random viewing of the trailer for Samuel Fuller's "White Dog" to know that I had to see it immediately. I mean, an early 80's film starring Kristy McNichol that's about a seemingly racist dog sounds like a recipe for success to me. I was more than ecstatic to discover that it had been released by Criterion, thereby giving me even more incentive to see it and boy, was it a treat.

McNichol stars as Julie Sawyer, an up and coming actress that accidentally hits our titular character, a white German shepherd, with her car. After a visit to the vet, Julie takes in the dog as her own, much to her "totally happening" boyfriend's chagrin. One night, an intruder breaks in and almost rapes Julie, but White Dog saves the day by brutally attacking the intruder. This leads Julie to believe that he is the greatest dog ever and that he couldn't be more perfect for her. Not to long after this incident, though, White Dog sneaks out late at night and makes his way into the city where he attacks a black trashman, causes his death, and then quietly makes his way back home. Julie, unaware of the dog's recent attack, brings him to work with her and he viciously attacks a black actress. This startles Julie and leads her to believe something is seriously wrong with the dog. Upon bringing him to a trainer, she learns that he is a "White Dog", or a dog that has been trained to not only hate, but attack, dark skinned people. The owner suggests that she kill the dog right away, insisting that their can be no rehabbing this hate that his been imparted to the dog. Keyes (Paul Winfeld),  the head trainer, he himself a black man, takes it upon himself to try and cure the dog of its nature, believing if it can be learned, it can also be unlearned. This begins a constant and at times very tense back and forth between Keyes and the dog, as Keyes is adamant to not give up on the dog even in the face of failure. The ending is quite shocking and affecting, but not in the direct way that you think it might be.

As you can imagine, the film itself had its fair share of hardships right out of the gate. Based on a 1970 novel of the same name, the film takes a very head-on look at racism and its nature, whether its learned or inherited and what can be done about it through confrontation or indifference. Directed by Sam Fuller in 1982, the film faced constant threats of boycotts and protests surrounding its release with many groups feeling the film would inspire violence rather than address it. Paramount backed down and shelved the movie indefinitely, never seeing an official release. It was then edited for a direct to TV release, but NBC backed down and never aired it. It wouldn't be until 2008 that Criterion would come along and release the film in its uncut form.

The film itself is a bit tough to take. First off, the dog is horrifying. I am not sure what they were doing to this dog to make it so angry, but holy jeebus its scary. The attacks are all quite vicious, although some escalate into an almost unintentional hilarity, which negatively detaches the film from the very serious message that it is trying to convey.  It is also, sadly, a byproduct of its time with it's glaring Eighties-ness, specifically found within McNichol. There are, however, moments where the movie truly shines and you get the overall feel of what Fuller was attempting to get across.

"White Dog" is by no means a bad film, and I applaud it for going after a subject that still to this day needs to be addressed and for doing so in a creative way. It is, however, not without it's shortcomings.I recommend giving it a chance with an open mind. Enjoy a laugh or two here and there, try and take in the overall message and do what you can to come away unscarred by the ending.

CHE (Spine #496)

"To survive here, to win... you have to live as if you've already died." - Ernesto "Che" Guevara

One would be hard pressed to name a more recognizable image than that of Cuban revolutionary Ernesto "Che" Guevara. The sad irony of that is the severe lack of knowledge of who Che was to go along with that recognition. With his film, "CHE", director Stephen Soderbergh, set about the task of meticulously sharing the story of a man that is equally celebrated as much as reviled. Drawing from numerous historical sources, as well as author Jon Lee Anderson's biography "Che Guevara: A Revolutionary Life" and some of Guevara's own diaries, Soderbergh had built an enormous amount of material to cover; much more than a regular movie time would allow. What was originally financed as one English speaking film grew into a story spanning four and a half hours and split into two parts, now almost entirely spoken in Spanish. The two halves, "Part One: The Argentine" and "Part Two: The Guerrilla", both tell different era's of Che's life, but not only work in conveying a true sense of this man's slow rise and drastic fall, but watched in one sitting it ignores modern convention of how film should tell a story, all the while containing an incredible and demanding performance by Benicio Del Toro as Che himself.

"Part One: The Argentine" has a back and forth nature in time, jumping from Che's address of the UN in 1964 and his actual beginnings with the Cuban Revolution in 1955. With this back and forth the film creates an excellent dichotomy showing us a very strong, very well known Che seemingly as popular as anyone on Earth, whereas when the film jumps back we see Che's early beginnings; his slow rise within the revolution itself, even his own personal battles with asthma, which adds this dash of humanism to someone that we are seeing will become larger than life. An early scene shows the introduction of Che to Fidel Castro, in which Castro asks Che to join him and there's this subtle power in seeing two men discussing their dream, and living to see it fulfilled; to an extent, at least. By the time "The Argentine" concludes, we see Che's group, the July 26th Movement, succeeding in their takeover of Cuba. While feeling like a high note, Che is quick to remind his troops that they have simply "won a war. The Revolution has just begun." Nevertheless, at this point, Che has become almost mythic and most certainly legendary. The very final scene is jumps back to that first meeting with Castro and reveals what Che wants in return for his help.

"Part Two: The Guerrilla" has a much more stark and bleaker feel all around. Years after the successful taking of Cuba, Che now finds himself in Bolivia, hoping to bring their brand of revolution to South America. Whereas the taking of Cuba was slow and successful, Che would find merely less than a year in Bolivia, giving up his fame and name in hopes of spreading that which he believed in. Despite a warm welcome in lieu of him being a foreigner, Che could never get strong support from the locals of Bolivia, and this would be the beginning of his end. As his health becomes worse and worse, his men begin to dissent and eventually betray the man the pledged to follow. This leads to his discovery, capture, and eventual execution.

If anyone doubted the prowess of Benicio Del Toro before this film, upon seeing it they would no longer have a right to that doubt. Del Toro simply becomes this role, in such a seemingly effortless way. He exhibits an amazing understanding of a man that has dreams but also maintains a strict forcefulness with his troops and a lack of real celebration, always focusing on the task at hand. No matter what era you are witnessing, its almost uncanny how one can beleive they are watching the real Che onscreen.

"CHE" was also one of the first films to use the RED cameras, a new type of high definition filming, and there aren't many words to describe just how amazing both films look, in their own right. Soderbergh approached both parts with seperate, yet unified ideas in mind. "Part One" was filmed widescreen and with warm colors, in a way reflecting Che's success, but also coordinating with his writing style in his diary in regards to those times; very eloquent and well spoken. During the era "Part Two" happened, Che was very sporadic and uncoordinated with his writing, not knowing what would come next. Soderbergh filmed "Part Two" in a handheld style to help convey this uncertainty and leave the viewer anxious for what may come next for them.

Despite one's feeling on the subject matter dealt with in "CHE", one would be hard pressed to find much to dislike about the film(s) as a whole. Yes, there are big aspects of his life not covered, but with what is covered directly shows the biggest high and lowest low in the life of a man that lives on as far more than that. I urge anyone and everyone to view this as a whole and get a better, clearer understanding of "that guy on the T-shirt", which sadly is what he and his memory have become.

The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou (Spine #300)

"I wonder if it remembers me." - Steve Zissou

Here we are again, with yet another of Wes Anderson's amazing films, and in my personal opinion, his very best. With the film, his fourth, we find Anderson has traded in his love of suburban settings and urban quirkiness for the wild and fantastical seas, focusing this tale on an aging legend who many think is far past his prime. Yet, the film still brings along Anderson's fascination with broken families as well as the relationships that build from that brokenness. "The Life Aquatic" also functions as equal parts homage as well as parody of the late great oceanographer/documentary maker Jacques Cousteau, of which Steve Zissou is modeled after. In the character of Steve Zissou, we are also treated to one of the greatest roles of the wonderful Bill Murray's long career, specifically written with him in mind.

"The Life Aquatic" focuses on Steve Zissou (Murray), an oceanographer/documentarian that has found himself well past his prime. He's no longer as beloved as he once was and all of his relationships, ranging from his marriage to his friends, are strained to their breaking points. While filming his most recent adventure, Zissou stumbles upon what he calls a "jaguar shark" that not only eludes him, but kills and eats his beloved friend Esteban. Upon returning, Zissou has resigned himself to heading back out to sea as soon as possible to find this jaguar shark and kill it. Zissou runs into a young pilot named Ned (Owen Wilson) who may or may not be his long lost son. With Zissou being unable to obtain funding for his latest endeavor, Ned, thanks to a recently obtained inheritance, puts up the money for the expedition and also becomes a part of the crew, which itself is made up of cameramen, editors, and many an unpaid intern. Rounding out the lot is a young reporter named Jane (Cate Blanchett) who is a great admirer of Steve's as well as very pregnant under not so wonderful circumstances.

Off and ready to document the finding and destroying of his new found foe, the journey is not quite as easy as Zissou envisioned. Between in-fighting, jealousy, love, a bit of theft, some nasty pirates, and experiencing even more loss along the way, Team Zissou, particularly Steve himself, discover that its much more about the journey than the destination itself. Through it all, Zissou comes to terms not just with his own mortality, but seemingly an understanding of his life as a whole and what it means to him. The whole of it is incredibly moving, and a lot of that rests firmly on the shoulders of Bill Murray.

For his efforts, Murray proves he is far more capable than being just a comedian. His portrayal of Zissou has so many layers to it that it requires repeated viewing to truly appreciate. From his interactions with his estranged wife Evelyn (Anjelica Huston) to his crew to "doing his best" at being a father-figure to Ned, Murray is a cut above in this movie and makes it even harder for me to see where people find fault in the film. He simply is a man that has hit bottom and despite that is still trying to make a go of it and through that discovers something much more powerful than fame or revenge.

Being a Wes Anderson film, one of the main themes is the relationships between the primary characters, mostly ones that are dysfunctional or all-together broken. We are also given to Anderson's amazing since of framing a scene an overall look and feel that are distinctly his. Although his previous works share many similarities, I personally feel that this is the one where everything just fell right into place. None of his films are lacking heart or emotion, but this one delivers on those cues much more profoundly. Oddly, this seems to be the Wes Anderson film that people are the most divided on. It's hard to find someone that has seen "Rushmore" or "The Royal Tenenbaums" and truly disliked them, although there are those that claim they just don't "get" them. "The Life Aquatic", however, seems to have just as many haters as it does fans, which is very strange to me, as I feel it's his strongest work and just doesn't get its fair shake.

There is so much more to go on about. The incredible soundtrack (which Anderson notoriously uses in his films to such a great degree), the rest of the supporting cast (especially Jeff Goldblum and Willem Dafoe), and an overall enjoyable tale that leans a bit fantastical at times, but stays leveled in a very human place. A truly remarkable film, indeed.