Quick Hit: Shine a Light (2008)

It was never my intention to watch SHINE A LIGHT, Martin Scorsese's 2008 document of The Rolling Stones' show at the Beacon Theater in NYC.  But life, or more specifically Netflix Instant Streaming, has a way of throwing a wrench into the works, and so after adding STANDING IN THE SHADOWS OF MOTOWN to my queue I saw this recommended, saw it was available for streaming, clicked the Play button and wound up laying in bed watching the whole thing.

Movie #17: Encounters at the End of the World (2008)

Werner Herzog is a filmmaker who isn't content to simply place his stamp on each of his films, he has to grind it in with the heel of his boot, making sure there is no mistake that what we're about to see, whether fictional narrative or documentary, is his vision, his unique take on the subject matter.

His latest endeavor, the documentary ENCOUNTERS AT THE END OF THE WORLD is no different. The narration in the first few minutes makes clear Herzog has little interest in "another fucking penguin picture." His interest lies as much in the days and dreams of the people living there as it does the beautiful scenery. At first he's troubled by relatively benign weather; it's only when the winds start to come up that he truly feels it's time to explore the continent.

The photography is breathtaking. I understand the accolades heaped upon films like PLANET EARTH, but there's a immediacy to the HD video in ENCOUNTERS that causes you to reach out, straining to feel the cold emanating from the screen. The most gorgeous moments come under the ice, as divers bring the cameras for a look at the alien architecture made possible by the movement of the water and the ice, and the strange life that calls this environment home.

When he's not lingering over the vistas and the indigenous life, Herzog is probing the people who have, for dozens of different reasons, followed a singular call to come to the most inhospitable section of the globe. From a plumber who boasts royal Incan heritage to a group of scientists who put their ears to the ice in order to hear the psychedelic, inorganic sounds of the seals,each person parts with a small portion of the dream that led them to the ice and snow. Herzog's voice, sometimes probing, sometimes backing off, always seems to be in command, and as an invisible guide he makes a compelling voice through the course of the film.

Of course, he eventually does (as one must when in Antarctica) come across penguins, and what started in the beginning of the film as a casual joke about another penguin movie becomes a heartbreaking scene as the question of madness in animals is addressed. It's one of many beautiful moments that make ENCOUNTERS AT THE END OF THE WORLD a treasured film.

*Quick Note: Herzog states his fascination with Antarctica came after seeing some of the dazzling underwater photography by Henry Kaiser while Kasier was scoring Herzog's previous GRIZZLY MAN. It took a couple moments to sink in: the guy doing the music for Herzog's film also shot underwater footage in Antarctica? Apparently so, and the guy in question, Henry Kaiser, is a fantastic guitar player who's records are a treat of jazz, rock, and more avant-garde material. It's his picture in the above screencap.

Movie #12: The Mindscape of Alan Moore (2003)

Is it better to know the mechanics of the trick, or to simply be enthralled by what's in front of you?

I asked myself that because the question of magic comes up quite a bit in THE MINDSCAPE OF ALAN MOORE, a quasi-documentary that touches upon Moore's early years and rise as one of the most respected and gifted creators in the field of comics, but largely concerns itself with his personal beliefs and ideas about the nature of magic, art, and writing. His milestones are touched upon, and we even get a few glimpses of his own filmic envisions of Watchmen, V For Vendetta, and even a brief glimpse of John Constantine from Hellblazer (he originated the character in Swamp Thing, although never actually wrote an issue of Hellblazer). But the vast majority of his work isn't mentioned at all (Tom Strong, Top Ten, Promethea) or, if it is (Lost Girls, From Hell, League of Extraordinary Gentlemen), it's only in passing reference.

All in all it's a pretty poor documentary - Moore seems to have had a very large hand in the shaping of the film, and as a result it feels manipulative in a way that none of his comic work does. I hesitate to recommend this to even die-hard fans (of which I consider myself a member) because of the question I asked myself at the beginning of this review. I came away knowing a lot more about the man who crafted some of my favorite stories, but felt the poorer for it. Maybe this is an isolated instance, but I suddenly feel very glad that Moore has nothing to do with his filmic adaptations, and that he's as reclusive as he is. All the better to simply soak up the wonderful words and not pay heed to the bearded man behind them.

Movie #2: Man On Wire (2008)

"Why? Why is he doing it?"

The question of why is asked by a passerby to Annie, who is on the street in New York City pointing and shouting at her lover who is seemingly floating high in the air between the newly constructed Twin Towers of the World Trade Center. As she relates this portion of the story in the amazing documentary MAN ON WIRE, she expresses her utter bafflement to the question. Her answer is, simply, why not?

What director James Marsh has done is taken the story of Phillippe Petit, a French tightrope walker obsessed with the idea of performing a high-wire act atop the towers and created a documentary both beautiful and magical, an artful balance of different tones and styles that mimic the ethereal actions of Petit and his crew. He's helped by the fact that Petit is a born performer, charming and enthusiastic in his interviews, who also had the foresight to extensively film much of the planning and practice that went into his eventual triumph in New York. Marsh takes this footage and skillfully combines it with interviews and narration not only by Petit, but most of the people involved in executing the plan.

Although "plan" doesn't do justice to the events that transpire to get Petit up in the air. Some of the posters advertising MAN ON WIRE call it a "heist" film, and that's as good a name as any. The structure of the movie could have been lifted from any number of 50's crime films, and Marsh uses this to his advantage, blending the real life footage with dramatic reenactments, shot in black and white in an often surreal, film noir style perfectly matched to the music of composer Michael Nyman, much of which had been used in the films of Paul Greengrass. These sequences, such as when Petit and one of his crew are forced to sit under a tarp for hours as they wait for a security to leave the floor so they can begin to lug their equipment to the roof is blends an equla does of suspense and humor, and work better than many similar works that are straight dramatic fiction.

All of that is put aside once Petit sets his foot upon the wire, and the actual footage coupled with his own account during his performance is breathtaking. There's footage taken from the time of one of the arresting officers who states, "I don't think I'll ever see anything like this again."

It's his words that I'll take away from MAN ON WIRE more than anything else. He gets it. Phillippe Petit's display doesn't require explanation: it is a pure act of magic, done with wires and poles, a gift to himself and a gift to those able to witness something none of them could possibly have imagined when they woke up that morning and got ready to head into work.

Some are always in need of an explanation, of the "why". Others are content with the simple existence of that which they see.