SYNECDOCHE NEW YORK, STAR TREK, MILK, THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON, CLERKS 2, THE BURROWERS, OUT FOR JUSTICE, TIMECRIMES, MARTYRS, and DANTE01.
A lot of interesting films, some that definitely merit a second watching. I’m hoping to get to at least four of them for reviews. In short, I liked them all to carying degrees with the exception of DANTE01, which was disappointing on a number of levels.
“Never seen it? But it’s brilliant! Hysterical!” My eyes widened with each exclamation of greatness. “We must rectify the situation immediately!”
She settled into her preferred corner of the couch as I went about opening the various leather albums we’ve been transferring our DVDs into in an effort to save space. I flipped through the pages and considered something I hadn’t though of when I previously combusted with enthusiasm at the thought of introducing her to THE BIG LEBOWSKI:
Was it really as good as I remembered it?
I originally saw it in the theater, its viewing remarkable because it was the first time I recalled taking my younger brother along with my friends. He loved it, and it cemented now long-standing ritual of checking out at least one movie every time we get together. Past that, I maybe saw the film in its entirety once more when I bought original DVD, and some snippets here and there on cable.
I needn’t have worried; if anything THE BIG LEBOWSKI got even better 11 years later. Particularly John Goodman’s performance. I’m sure it was always there, but watching this time I was able to catch a lot of the cracks in his hardcore shell: the wincing pain when his ex-wife comes up, the flare-ups at poor Donny (a wonderfully understated Steve Buscemi) that mask deeper insecurities. If Jeff Bridges’ “Dude” is the unwavering constant, then Goodman’s Walter is the journeyman in the film: the close on him hugging the Dude after Donny’s ashes are haphazardly flung into the ocean (and the Dude’s face) is hilarious and poignant, we feel Walter may have turned a corner in his life, even as “the Dude abides,” as Sam Elliot points out in the final scene.
The point is, the damn thing not only held up, but improved in my eyes years later.
Over the next few days, I started thinking about other films I loved upon initial viewing but haven’t seen in years…would they hold up to scrutiny? And is the opposite true - would films I didn’t like age like a fine cheese with the appropriate distance? I’m guessing the latter is probably more true than not: there are a lot of films that take time, knowledge, and experience to appreciate. L’AVVENTURA is up front in the list of films I just didn’t enjoy or “get” the first time around. Admittedly it’s been well over a dozen years since I tried, those years filled with a lot more amateur experience in watching and writing about movies. So maybe next time it’ll work out, who know?
If there’s a question anywhere in this post, I suppose it’s this: what films out there did you love, only to find out it wasn’t the film you remember upon seeing it again? Conversely, what films got better with time, not only moving up in an already favorable estimation, but actually changing your mind about it?
Dario Argento is generally held high on the shoulders of horror fandom for the vibrant visual palette he brings to his horror films, particularly his series of giallo films. FOUR FLIES ON GREY VELVET was his third film, considered "lost" due to its long absence on DVD, and it's a crazy ride into many of the visual themes and cues he would use to later effect in more classic films like DEEP RED and SUSPIRIA.
Don't bother trying to figure out what the dreams of decapitation mean, or the whirling scenes that take place in a padded cell. Forget the obvious and sometimes hysterical homosexual under (and over-) tones of the characters and just revel in how masterly Argento controls the action on the screen. It doesn't make a lot of sense, and when you find out who the killer is, you'll probably be as stumped as I am with trying to understand why they went through all of the trouble of doing what they did in the beginning if they only wanted to kill Roberto in the end. Even the scene that finally explains the title of the movie: wonderful to look at, really inconsequential in the grand scheme of the story. Argento basically directs the hell out of a movie that's light as a feather, but watched in conjunction with DEEP RED, FOUR FLIES ON GREY VELVET gets better when you think of it as a sort of proving ground for what he would accomplish in the later film.
You know what I realized?
After 20+ years of back and forth between studios, writers, and directors we finally, for better or for worse, have our WATCHMEN movie. Forget the "could have beens" of a Terry Gilliam or Darren Aronovsky version of the film, forget the 5+ hour HBO miniseries (which was never really a consideration). Zach Snyder and the team behind 300 have gone and made the "unfilmable" Holy Grail of graphic novels into a finished film. And a surprisingly faithful one, at that.
Almost too faithful, and if I have a minor quibble with WATCHMEN, the issue of being "too faithful" is an odd one, in light of the various fanboy uproars over major departures like the lack of the "squid" ending to more minor liberties like using "Desolation Row" over the closing credits when it is, in fact, used as the opening quote to the book.
So before jumping into the review, it's probably best to explain the mindset I used going into the movie: it has to work as a film. We're talking two very different mediums here, and the logic, structures and storytelling techniques that work in comics, and specifically in Watchmen the graphic novel, don't necessarily translate when adapted to film. That's always been Alan Moore's main reason for the disdain he has of all his filmed works, and it's a valid one. But (of course there's a "but") there's a lot that film can do that comics can't, and provided the hand that does the adapting does it with reverence and keeps their eye on the message within the work (which was always "filmable"), you can do things like LORD OF THE RINGS. THE GODFATHER.
And now, WATCHMEN.
Zach Snyder should be proud of himself. WATCHMEN is an audacious, unapologetically R-rated film that revels in taking its costumed avengers and placing them in a very real (albeit weird) world, a world where the discovery of the first "super-powered" man is heralded as "an American" and consequently sets up a society where people don capes and masks to both commit crime and fight it. WATCHMEN is largely about the deconstruction of the superhero archetype, but by committing to the book's 80's time frame lock, stock, and barrel and running the action against the nation's growing paranoia over Soviet aggression and nuclear holocaust, Snyder draws parallels to our own current global scenario. It's a beautifully realized world; not the "real word" of something like THE DARK KNIGHT, but like that film, total in its commitment to a reality that governs the actions of its characters.
Most everything is here: after a brilliant opening to the strains of Bob Dylan's "The Times They Are A-Changing" that brings us up to speed on the world since the "birth" of Doctor Manhattan and costumed heroes to the 1977 Keane Act that banned vigilantism, we're immediately in the present, and witness to the murder of the Comedian. Snyder stays very close to the panels drawn by Dave Gibbons in the book, but amps everything up by showing us the action that occurs in between the panels to open things up and make the fight that much more visceral. Jeffrey Dean Morgan is incredible in the short amount of time he gets to play the Comedian - it's a bastard of a role, because the Comedian's so repulsive, but Morgan really brings out a lot of the underlying pain and anguish that haunts him in his final days. He very nearly steals the show in every scene he's in.
Nearly. I could go one about the other actors, all of who pull out fine performances, but that would take up too space before I could get to how unbelievable Jackie Earle Haley is as Rorschach. He's the drive of the film, the narrator and the one person who never once compromised or gave in when everyone else took government jobs (Comedian, Manhattan), went to seed (Nite Owl, Silk Spectre), or cashed in (Ozymandias, who gets the short end of the stick in the theatrical version, but hopefully gets some more to do in the director's cut in a few months). Rorschach is the heart of the film and, like Billy Crudup's Doctor Manhattan, Haley has to do most of his acting in actions and voice, since for the most part he's covered by the now famous ink blot mask. Snyder wisely keeps most of Rorschach's scenes from the book intact, and when the mask finally does come off, Snyder's camera gets in close, studying every worn line and whisker on his face. The single best scene of WATCHMEN comes not from the result of make-up, special effect or fight choreography - it is a close-up of Haley's face at the end of the film, in the bitter cold, shaking from the freezing air and bitter sadness of what's about to happen. The entire screen is filled with his face, and it's impossible to turn away.
I mentioned before how much restraint Snyder shows in refraining from the speed changes that covered every second of 300; it's a credit that this feels almost like a different director. The fact that so much of what was on the page he manages to pull off in incredible. Another fantastic scene I never would have thought would work on film involves a dream Dan Dreiberg (Nite Owl) has after a failed attempt to make love to Laurie (Silk Spectre): naked in a barren landscape, each person rips the other person's skin off, revealing each other in their crime fighting costumes as a gigantic mushroom cloud erupts on the horizon. It's a surreal image straight out of Dali, but Snyder films it and makes it work. Another terrific section from the book that works beautifully on the screen is Doctor Manhattan's exodus to Mars, and his meditation on his life and the multifaceted nature of time, and how it appears to him. Again, I would have thought this would never work on the screen: Snyder proves me wrong. His fight choreography, also very different from the novel, is top-notch; I couldn't help but think that this was how I wanted to see my superheros fight. Christoper Nolan: take note for the next Batman movie - you can have dressed up people move with a fluid grace.
And the love scene? I guarantee you've never seen anything this, uh, hardcore in a big-budget superhero film again. It's tacky, it's explicit, and it's a fantastic pressure release valve from all the heavy stuff that has gone on before. You'll laugh out loud, and you'll probably never listen to Leonard Cohen or "Hallelujah" the same way again.
So where did I have any problems? By sticking so close to the book, and being so faithful to the words spoken, some of the dialog comes off a little wooden, and takes you out of the film a bit. It's at those moments that you're reminded you're watching an adaptation instead of immersing yourself in a film. There's one weird instance, however, where Snyder opts to removes a crucial bit of dialog that also makes the film suffer a bit. Early in the film after the Comedian's murder Rorschach makes his rounds to the rest of the Watchmen (they were called the Crime Busters in the book - the term "Watchmen" really was a catch-all referring to all costumed heroes) informing them of his death and his suspicions that someone is out to kill heroes. This news of the Comedian's death has implications for Laurie, aka Silk Spectre, having to do with a violent episode between the Comedian and her mother, the original Silk Spectre back in the 40s and 50s. So in the book Laurie lashes out at Rorschach about the Comedian, and when Rorschach says something about it, her anger is what causes Doctor Manhattan to teleport him out of their compound. Here that doesn't happen - the conflict is glossed over and, although it's accentuated elsewhere, I couldn't help but feel that initial moment of Laurie's hatred would have the revelations that come later on the film more weighty. It's a small grievance, but it's there.
Some scenes also suffer a little from such careful dedication to the book. There are a few moments where WATCHMEN feels like you're viewing the book instead of living the film (something the motion comics DVD purposefully achieves). The moments feel a bit dry, especially when they're matched against sequences that jump off the screen. We all have the book, we can all read it again, so taking a few more liberties (I know, blasphemy) and making each minute of the visual version of WATCHMEN completely engage the viewer instead of pay homage to the book might have made the difference between "great" and "nigh perfect".
My final, tiny issue is admittedly a personal quibble and, surprisingly, comes after the movie ends. I'm perfectly fine with the "squidless" ending. In fact, I'm fine with practically (see above) every moment of WATCHMEN. Once the credits roll, we're treated to a cover of "Desolation Row" performed by My Chemical Romance. Song's not bad, I like My Chemical Romance, and I get the reference (again, a line from the song actually opens the novel), but the tone in the cover is much more upbeat that the original version, and doesn't jibe with the essentially bleak "it never ends" ending. MInor and more than a bit "fanboy-ish" perhaps, but when my ending is downbeat, I don't want major chord punk playing over the credits.
Those pieces aside, in the end WATCHMEN comes off as a kind of great film, one I think is destined to be influential and talked about for years to come. Drew McWeeny compared it to BLADE RUNNER, and I don't think he's too far off the mark. It might not do a lot of box office, it requires more than simple passive viewing (in fact, I'm 100% this is going to get better and better over multiple viewings), but in the end it's an impressive achievement, does nothing to shame the graphic novel, and proves that nothing is "unfilmable" when you commit yourself to it.
Although, come to think of it, wouldn't it have been cool to see that giant squid now?
