Love's a Bitch

Amores Perros. Translated it means "love's a bitch." Great name for a film. Great film.

My previous post was about me recommending movies. I recommended I Stand Alone to a co-worker, who liked it. In turn, she brought me her copy of Amores Perros. I watched it last night and was fairly impressed. It was a long film, and if you are squeamish about animal violence (there is a lot of dog fighting), you may want to stay away from it. If, on the other hand, you are one of those people really excited about yet another Terminator sequel, you will definitely want to stay away. The film is depressing, violent and makes you think. In other words it is in that genre of films known as "box office poison."

American films have a huge following worldwide. They have influenced a whole new generation of filmmakers, too. (The French have revolutionized the horror genre, surpassing the Japanese.) What I find interesting, however, is that the films coming to our shores from overseas are generally excellent films. They seem to leave out a lot of the things American audiences are known for loving. Now, maybe we aren't seeing a lot of the crap over here. Perhaps there is a series of Rambo clones coming out of Armenia, but I don't know about them. I think this is good not only for the viability of importing foreign films, but for film as a whole. American directors will always embrace the crap formula films (there's an audience for them), but the new camera hounds will be exposed to other things, and that can only help their filmmaking. I'm not a purist when it comes to art. I think different cultural influences can only help the art form grow.

I will be thanking my co-worker tomorrow. She and I will probably take some time in the day to discuss the film, what it meant, our thoughts on it. Much like we did with Gaspar Noe's nihilistic bit of depression. I enjoy those kinds of conversations. They don't get inspired by things like White Chicks.

Love's a bitch, and so is stereotypical cinema. Give me something to make me think any day over car crashes and played out love scenes.

I Stand Alone in my Recommendations

When I am talking movies with people and they ask for a recommendation, I am careful. I have stayed away from recommending good films to people simply because I know the films will upset them. One of those films is the incredible I Stand Alone. If you've seen it, you know why I just don't mention it to anyone. Some people just can't handle certain things. No big deal. They just can't.

I did recently recommend it to a co-worker, who watched it and liked it -- as I thought she would. When she told me she enjoyed Irreverisible I figured I was on safe ground. Both films are from Gaspar Noe, both deal with some disturbing things. If you liked one, chances are you will like the other.

I don't ever recommend things like Transformers because I don't watch those films. And there's also the fact that a person is probably going to see the film regardless of what I say (and I would most likely say to stay away from it). Mainstream movies don't do much for me, so I stay away from them and can't say too much about them. That's not to say they are horrible (just because I don't think I'll like them does not mean they are garbage), it just means they are not something I want to see.

I have a handful of people I know I can share recommendations with (it goes both ways) knowing we will both enjoy whatever the other thinks we will. Our tastes are pretty similar, and we know what kinds of movies the other person digs. (A lot of my friends will tell me about any film they know of that has cannibalism -- yea!) I appreciate that. Nobody in that tiny circle recommends any of those teen vampire movies (though other people do), and nobody says things like, "The special effects are the only reason to see it." It's a wonderful thing when you have friends that you can seriously discuss cinema with, and I don't care how fucking pretentious that sounds. Film is an art form on par with writing, painting or anything else. Just because most people only view it as entertainment and treat it justly does not mean the art does not have political or social importance. If anything, the fact that film is enjoyed worldwide (especially American films) gives it a great deal of worth. It is probably the second most enjoyed art form next to music. It can inspire, anger, enlighten and cause some serious introspection. I Stand Alone does that. From everything I've seen and read, Transformers does not.

So, should you see Noe's film about isolation and misanthropy? Only if you understood what I wrote and agree with it. Otherwise, enjoy the robots.

Am I Evil?

Movies have provided us with some incredible villains. And not only have they provided us with great bad guys, they have given us bad guys we can actually be sympathetic towards. That is not an easy thing to pull off, but it is essential to have in order to have an effective villain. It's the difference between Alex from A Clockwork Orange and any of the villains from hundreds of action films. Darth Vader works. Otis from The Devil's Rejects works. Hannibal works (in The Silence of the Lambs at least). Magneto works. John Doe from Se7en works.

Villains work best when we can see ourselves in them, when we can recognize their humanity and the motivations of their actions. We can still find what they do to be repulsive (and the more repulsive we find it we find ourselves that much more attached ... if done properly). If you can't find sympathy in a villain, it will never connect on anything other than a surface level. Who remembers the villain from Lethal Weapon 2?

The effect of villains in a film was hammered home to me when I got into a discussion with a friend, who was trying to be a writer, about The Devil's Rejects. I had told him how I thought director Rob Zombie did it right because even though you hate what the Firefly family has done, you can't help but feel sympathy. He said there was no way he could feel sympathy, and no way he could see how anyone could. I countered with, "Then you'll never be a successful fiction writer because if you can't make even the most despicable character human it will never connect deeply enough with an audience to make a lasting impression."

He is not the only person who has said things like this to me, but he was so offended by my assertion that Zombie's film actually built sympathy for a pack of killers that he couldn't wrap his mind about what I was saying. I stick by it, though. The greatest villains are the ones you feel sympathy for, the ones you make you see things from their point of view.

My ex-wife and I once got into a great discussion about Kevin Spacey's character in Se7en. We were talking about characters in movies who were self-actualized. I argued that Spacey's killer was self-actualized as he could thoroughly justify his motives, he could explain them, and he acted upon his beliefs. She stated he was not because he killed people and a self-actualized person would not want to harm another. I shot back that a self-actualized person could kill if he thought it would better humanity, something Spacey's character obviously felt, because in the end it is all a matter of numbers and a self-actualized person would have to realize that. It's like the old time travel question: If you can go back through time do you kill Hitler? We never saw eye to eye on the issue of Spacey and self-actualization, and I'm not even sure there is a right answer, but the fact that his character could cause such a debate speaks volumes as to how well it was written (especially when one considers how little screen time he has). We never debated the villain from Event Horizon.

When a movie calls for a villain, I believe the villain has to be better written than the hero. After all, we can all understand the hero's motivations. Luke wants to save the galaxy. Jodie Foster wants to catch a cannibal. Both are tasks we are all familiar with. They really need no explanation. Cannibals wandering around eating people are bad. Floating space stations that blow up planets can really ruin you day. Therefore, the villains have to have extra dimensions to them. It's easy to say Darth Vader is just a guy who wants to help rule the galaxy, and if you only watch one movie you can actually come away with that. The reality is different. Darth Vader starts out as a young boy with much promise who is yanked from his home by strangers. He is trained to be a Jedi and then as a teenager is told he doesn't have the discipline required for his station. His mother dies. He falls in love. As he progresses through life the people he thought he could rely upon show how little they trust him, and that wears him down. He only wants to learn how to keep his loved ones alive forever, and he wants honesty. His switch to the Dark Side is not only believable but also understandable. Hannibal has just as much dimension in the first film (first in the series, not chronologically).

Hannibal Lecter is first and foremost an intellectual. He feels he is above most people, and his knowledge says he is. He is an excellent judge of character, but he is also a sociopath and cannibal. Throughout The Silence of the Lambs you realize that Hannibal is actually scarier behind bars than he is once free because he is so good he can still get you even when locked up. You also realize that if you met him in real life you would most likely be safe because he only seems to kill those dumb enough to fall into his trap, and you think you would never be that dumb. Most people actually think they are smarter than they are, however, and what makes Hannibal work is that he lets you know that. He can hit the flaws in anyone, but since it isn't you, you are safe in laughing at the idiocy of those who fall into his clutches. He kils not only because he wants to, but because he can. He kills those he views as his lessers, and who hasn't wanted to do that from time to time? Compare him to the cannibals in Frontier(s) and you can instantly see why one is a cultural icon and the others will be nothing more than a footnote in cinematic history (though the French horror film is incredible).

The visual imagery of Vader, whose image I opened ths posting with, evokes memories of samurai, Nazis, and ultimately pity. Anyone who has seen all the films knows that underneath that armor is a broken old man who could not survive outside his shell. It's very symbolic, and it works. He is probably the image many people think of first when they think of great movie villains. (And while I like him, he is pretty far down on my list of favorites). He not only symbolizes his own inner demons, but that of all movie villains. We see them on the screen, large than life, striding forth either in costume (Alex) or dressed in normal clothes (The Butcher from I Stand Alone, who is a villain who actually carries the film) while carrying themselves in such a way that the armor is purely mental. We see them and we understand that under all of that is a human just as fragile as us. (Otis cares about his family, Magneto wants his "family" to be left alone by outsiders.) Darth Vader tops movie villains lists not because he is a great villain but because he symbolizes all great villains.

I let a few people read my cannibal manuscript. I was worried that the main villain, a woman I named Momma Rose, wouldn't stand out enough to be memorable. I could live with her not being a villain of epic proportions, but I wanted the audience to have some kind of connection to her. Quite a few readers gave me positive feedback on her, but only one said those words I wanted to hear. "I liked her. She was doing whatever she could to protect her family and keep her heritage alive." That was what I was hoping that people would see in her. They might not agree with the actions I had the character do, but they could understand them.

Villains, the good ones, are memorable because we all think they same thing. There but for the grace of God ...

And if you just don't get it, I don't think you ever will, which is a real shame, too. If you can't see what makes them great, you're actually missing out. You're not getting the entire picture. It may not ruin your enjoyment of the film, but don't expect to win any debates any time soon.

How Do You Do This?

A friend asked me to recommend a film this weekend. I told her I really liked The Devil's Rejects, but warned her it could be disturbing. (Turns out I did not have to worry about that as she sent me one of the most out-of-left-field texts I have ever received, and if I wonder if I should be the one disturbed.) She then asked for other recommendations, and I mentioned the film pictured here, Cannibal Holocaust.

I gave the usual warnings. Sexual violence. Real animal cruelty. I figured it was a safe recommendation after the text I got, but you never know. It seems like, however, whenever someone asks for my recommendations I have to throw in a caveat. When I write my reviews for Film Threat I often have to do the same thing. It comes from a time I just would recommend a film and then have someone flip out on me.

How do you recommend something like Cannibal Holocaust without seeming like a total maniac? I'm not sure you can ... at least not with most people.

The friend I recommended it to said she may work her way up to that one and asked if I had anything in between the two films. (She has since watched The Devil's Rejects again and liked it even more the second time. Should I be worried?)

I recommended I Stand Alone to a few friends. Most of them thought my warnings weren't stern enough, though they all agreed it was a good film. (It's actually a great film that ranks up there as one of the best of all time.) It seems like its a no-win situation. Hell, I've lost friends over film recommendations (Amateur Porn Star Killer comes to mind).
So how do you remedy that?

You don't.

I learned the hard way that no matter what you say about a film, no matter what warnings you give, the end reaction is on the shoulders of each individual viewer. As a critic and friend, you can only tell people what's in the movie, why you like it, and why they might like it. You'll either come off as a prick or a breath of fresh air. My experience, though, shows that you'll usually be the prick. But it all becomes worth it when you get a text like the one I received. You make someone's day and turn them onto a film you love. It doesn't get much better than that.