The White Ribbon (Michael Haneke, 2009)

The White Ribbon is a rumination on ritualized punishment by master film maker Michael Haneke. The film revolves around the residents of a small Austrian village just prior to World War I. Following a series of events both routine and unusually horrific, the peaceful life they've become used to is turned upside down. 

To say that The White Ribbon is an understated film is understated. It's obviously the work of a master film maker specifically for that reason. It takes someone confident enough in an ability they understand to be superior to craft a film as patient, studious and methodical as this film is. In every way, this should probably be a very boring film. This is not a flashy film, with exciting action and events happening every second.

The narrative is built like a mystery, a nearly perfect mystery, and the subtlety of it's construction is only possibly overshadowed by the performances, the dialog, the  script and the cinematography. It's shot in black and white, and so beautiful that there could be a few paragraphs worth of hyperbolic language to describe. I could seriously go on for a very long time about the photography in this film. This alone would be reason to see this film. 

Haneke has managed to create a film which is tightly wound and has a more consistent rhythm than a metronome by keeping things as subtle as he does and by using a decidedly uncinematic cast. That's not to say the performances aren't good, because they are, every single one of them is superb, but none of these actors look like they just stepped off a back lot somewhere in Hollywood or spend long hours devoted to the iconography of the physical image that we cultivate in most of our cinema and television. They aren't your classic Hollywood "pretty people," and whether we want to believe that or not, it makes a difference in how far we're willing to go in suspending our disbelief. When people are so attractive, so perfectly coiffed that it's abnormal, and looks like an effect they're attempting to achieve, we know it, and we don't believe it as willingly as we do people who look like they belong in an early twentieth century Austrian farming community. All of those elements come together to give the film a steady, quiet rhythm that keep it from becoming a boring, slow, preachy snoozefest, and make it engaging, suspenseful, interesting, and ultimately, an example of the power of quality, no frills film making. 

There's a cliche it's really easy to get tired of hearing or reading when you're a film enthusiast. Film makers, actors, producers, everyone invovled in film making and just about every single variety of storytelling in general use it. They say, "I was willing to do it to serve the story,""we really didn't want to do anything but serve the story." It's always about "serving the story." It's something said on a near constant basis, even when it couldn't be further from the truth. With The White Ribbon though, it's absolutely the truth. There is nothing in this movie that doesn't somehow serve the story. There's no extraneous bits and pieces or unecessary scenes, characters, dialog, nothing. It's all actuall there to serve the story, and that is what makes this such an incredible film. The story here has some interesting things to say about the nature of punishment and oppressive social, religious and economic conditions, and suggests some even more interesting things about the role those may have ultimately played in the beginnings and future acceptance of fascism. The source of that punishment and oppression is different in this film, but because of it's lack of sensationalistic tone, it's easy to see the through line from a life like the one depicted in the film, and accepting the kind of oppression fascism would eventually bring. 


The White Ribbon is an artistic accomplishment by a master film maker, which should be seen by anyone with even a passing interest in film on more than a pure entertainment level. I caught it on Netflix Watch Instantly and it's available on DVD. 

Moon (2009, directed by Duncan Jones)

Some of the most thought provoking, powerfully human, beautiful, entertaining, haunting, and heart breaking works of fiction I've ever seen on film or read have been science fiction stories. 

There's something about science fiction that seems to be more well suited to adeptly capture so many elements of what it is to be and the experience of being human than any other genre of fiction. I may have a soft spot in my heart for horror films, a kind of gooey, giddy, unfettered, sloppy teenage romance with horror films that's continued into my adult years, but good science fiction gets my admiration and respect. Added to that, film seems as if it were almost specifically created for science fiction story telling. Few genres are served as perfectly by a visual medium.

I feel that way because of films like Moon. Directed by Duncan Jones and starring Sam Rockwell, this is excellent science fiction. I'd wager it will be considered a classic, and part of the cannon of "must see" science fiction films. It's hard to say much about Moon without spoiling the experience for people who haven't  seen it. I'd absolutely suggest that if you haven't seen Moon you go into it knowing as little as possible about it. That being said, I knew more about it than I probably should have, and obviously, I still think it was a great film. I'm giving you the choice by not revealing anything that would take away from the impact of the film. If you want to know more of the actual story than that, you'll have to look elsewhere.

What I can tell you about the story is that Sam Bell is the sole technician in an almost completely automated operation extracting an element from the surface of the moon that has solved Earth's energy problems. Sam has been at this base on the moon, attending the machines, collecting the element (Helium-3) when cannisters on the harvesters are full and sending it back to Earth. When we meet him, Sam has apparently been on the moon, alone, for three years. In two weeks his contract will be up, and he'll be able to go home. Unfortunately, while heading out to collect a full cannister of Helium-3 from one of the harvesters, Sam has an accident, at which point, things get interesting, really, really interesting.

To some of you, that might sound like the kind of geektastic, hard core science fiction stuff that makes certain varieties of science fiction so very unattractive to most adults. I understand that, but what that synopsis doesn't tell you is that those details are the set up for the story. The real story is what happens from the accident on, and it is a very completely human story, more about Sam Bell than the moon, some made up element, harvesting on the moon or any of that. It's about Sam, our ideas about identity, what it is to be human, how it is we relate to ourselves and each other and it does all of it with authentic heart, subtle intelligence, and exquisite film making.

Moon is able to take on some big, heady, adult themes and make them personal in way that gets them away from being purely intellectual exercises. I enjoyed Richard Kelly's The Box, but I recognize that one of it's problems is the fact that it's intellectual nature doesn't make for the kind of compelling film making that a general non science fiction geek can identify with. Moon is an utterly compelling piece of film making, in the most human storytelling tradition.

You can not discount the importance of Sam Rockwell's performance to the success of this film. Rockwell has literally ninety eight or ninety nine percent of the screen time in the film. Other than a few minutes of video feed coming from Earth, and Kevin Spacey as the disembodied voice of Gerty, the robot/automation which has been Sam's only companion over the past three years. There just isn't another human being for the audience to start taking this journey with or sympathizing with, it's that simple. The thing is, Rockwell is absolutely phenomenal. I posted something earlier today on Facebook about having watched this last night, and that I couldn't stop thinking about it today, and a friend commented that the he would probably not have enjoyed the film if anyone else had been in Rockwell's role. I think that's a good call because not only can I not think of any other actor possibly having played this role, I can't think of an actor I would have sympathized or empathized with more than Rockwell. That authentic and honest heart in this movie is half to seventy five percent Rockwell's performance. I'd have to give credit for the remaining percentage would be due to the storytelling choices Duncan Jones makes, but there isn't enough praise available to me for Rockwell's performance. It is just so honest and so real and so understandable, it's completely disarming. I'm honestly disappointed Rockwell wasn't nominated for an Academy Award. This is the kind of role which the Academy usually trips over itself to give away awards to and I honestly think Rockwell is the victim of the Oscars trying to answer a very large and very loud community that has been increasingly critical of it. Too bad Rockwell is better in this role than most of those past Oscar bait nominations could have dreamed of being.

It's fairly obvious that a great deal of time, effort and care were put into this film. The production design is wonderful. The inside of the moon station is believably functional, and well designed because it continues to be interesting even though we spend the majority with it and it never gets boring or overwhelms the story or character. And the special effects are awesome. Not necessarily in the big, splashy, "look at how cool my special effects are" kind of way, but just in their subtle beauty and the fact that they all do have a very palpable reality and weight to them. All of it works together and is so deeply integrated that it makes me excited to see what Duncan Jones will do in the future. One of the problems that often comes up in sci-fi films or films that involve effects is that they don't seem to be a part of or integrated in the world the film exists in. Moon succeeds at avoiding that pit fall so well, I honestly didn't think about the effects until I was thinking about writing this. The fact that I was watched a film set in a near future, in a moon base, and didn't think about the effects at all, is a huge testament to the effects department, specifically because Moon is not the kind of film who's effects you should be thinking about. It should never be taking attention away from the character work in a film like this and it never does, while still being beautiful and interesting.

In the past year few years, we've had a few very good science fiction films. The Star Trek reboot was well done, exciting and fun. But, it was definitely more popcorn and action film than real, adult science fiction film. District 9 was the perfect middle ground film. It was exciting and fun, action packed, but also had a real story with great character development, an awesome character, great effects and the whole nine yards. Moon follows in the path of earlier classic science fiction like Blade Runner, the original Solaris and 2001: A Space Odyssey. But, Moon as much as it is in keeping with the thoughtful, honest nature of those films, it is much warmer and more heart felt and warm.

I can't recommend this highly enough.

Stanley Kubrick's, The Shining

I'm aware not everyone has an interest in horror films. When I reveal my own fondness for horror films, it's often received with a tilt of the head and an "I don't get it." In time I've found enough people who have the same love for these films as I do. My love of all things scary, bizarre and creepy in film goes back to the fact that "The Shining" was the first horror film I ever saw. I was probably ten or eleven years old, and it scared me out of my wits. I loved every pulse pounding, claustrophobic second of it, and I've been a fan ever since. I'd be willing to bet it's also somewhat due to the fact that "The Exorcist" was the second horror film I saw, and that too scared me silly. I was a lot luckier than most to have had my introduction to horror films be two of the finest the genre has to offer.

I'd lost my interest in kids books a pretty young age and when I got my hands on a copy of Stephen King's "Pet Semetary" it was off to the races for me. My parents always gave themselves and me enough credit to not think I'd mistake fantasy for reality, and so my journey into the world of horror began.

As I became more aware of the world around me and it became clear to me my love for the world of horror wasn't shared by everyone else, I went from feeling just plain strange about it, to feeling it was some badge of honor (I was, of course, intellectually superior. Yes, I'm kidding now, I wasn't then) to realizing it's like the difference between one persons favorite color being blue and another persons being red or green. What I have found though, is that if I ask someone who's not particularly a fan of horror films to name one they did like, it's nearly guaranteed the answer is going to be "The Shining."

One of the reasons for that is "The Shining" doesn't rely on what even then in 1980 when it was released, were already established horror genre cliche's. There are no cheap scares. If you're scared, it's because you've been given a damn good reason to be scared. It's a combination of masterful restraint, and all out assault on the senses. Now, don't make the mistake of thinking that by assault on the senses I mean an assault on good taste, because somehow, that's never the case. The film never goes for the cheap scare, never treats it's audience as anything other than intelligent, and doesn't' rely on blood and guts for its' scares. Although there is some blood in the film, with the exception of one quick camera shot, all of the violence (which there is little of to begin with) is either implied or takes place off camera. It's a film which somehow scares one to death without using any of the cheap tricks which we've all come to expect. It's so artfully, masterfully crafted that it doesn't need gore. If not for the supernatural overtone, I'd be willing to bet that like "Silence Of The Lambs," "The Shining" wouldn't be considered a horror movie by most, but a thriller, psychological or otherwise. What the two films have in common is incredible quality, and a love for them by those who made them which is clear by just how powerful they are.

According to IMDB the tagline for "The Shining" is - "A modern masterpiece of modern horror," and in what is such a rare case, it's absolutely the truth. This is of course, "Stanley Kubrick's, The Shining" and not Stephen King's "The Shining" so it's not completely faithful to the original novel. I was lucky to have seen the film before I read the book, so the two things stand on their own for me, not as extensions of the other. Stanley Kubrick is absolutely at the top of his game for this film, and that's saying a lot considering the man is one of the great genius who was able to elevate film to an art form.

Kubrick was known as an eccentric genius who was nearly obsessive compulsive when it came to his attention to detail in his films. This reputation is proven as fact in every shot, every sequence of "The Shining." Kubrick instills the entire film with a sense of dread and foreboding which builds from the opening shots of Jack Torrance driving the mountain roads on his way to an interview at the Overlook Hotel to the ending sequence as the camera follows the films characters through the hotels hedgemaze. The tension which grows throughout the film starts out as a feeling of unease and crescendo's as all out terror and panic.

There are four pieces to the puzzle of what makes this film so superior, not only to others in the genre, but also to so many other films in general, the puzzle of what makes it a masterpiece in not only modern horror, but in film making. First is Stanley Kubrick being at the top of his game. He lent his genius to films in a number of different genres, and in many cases his creations are considered the greatest in their genre, "The Shining" being another example. It is to the horror film what "2001: A Space Odyssey" is to science fiction, what "Dr. Strangelove (Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb)" is to comedic satire, what "Full Metal Jacket" is to the war/basic training genre. The history of film making may not have another director who can claim those kinds of achievements. And let's not forget that he also co-wrote the screenplay for "The Shining," adapting it from the novel himself. Not an unusual thing for him to do. Kubrick's beginning's as a still photographer can be seen in every frame of "The Shining" as every single shot is meticulously composed. One of the most inspired choices he made in creating this film was to almost completely do away with a conventional score, and instead to have used what is more a soundscape than a score. It doesn't sound so much like music as it does like musical instruments being tortured into releasing sounds they weren't meant to make. Without it, the overall experience with this film would be drastically different.

Second is the incomparable performance turned in by Jack Nicholson. By the time "The Shining" came around, Nicholson had already become a star with such films as "Easy Rider," "One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest," "Chinatown," "The Last Detail," and "Five Easy Pieces." But for all of his star power at the time, it was his turn in "The Shining" which would catapult him to the status of icon. His portrayal of a man overcome by his demons, both inner and exterior was not only terrifying, and at times hilarious, but also unforgettable. His delivery of the line "Heeeeeeeerrreesss JOHNNY," has become part of the cultural vernacular as well as his psychotic grin and sarcasm have become part of the collective unconscious. Without Jack Nicholson as Jack Torrance, "The Shining" wouldn't have been as effective. In an interview with Kubrick's daughter who was on set for filming, Nicholson comments on the fact that an actor spends his time, his training saying, "I'm going to make this real, I'm going to get it to be real. I'm going to make this more real than they've ever seen before. Then you meet up with someone like Stanley who says, 'Yeah, it's real, but it's not interesting." Luckily for all of us who love film, Nicholson went with Kubrick's suggestion and tried to turn in an interesting performance because more than interesting, it's unforgettable.

Next we come to Shelley Duvall as Wendy Torrance. Upon first viewing it's very easy to be completely unsympathetic to her character, to almost wish her husband does her in. But the more I watch this film, the more I become aware of just how subtle and ingenious her performance is in this role. Beyond the fact that I don't know any woman has ever been so convincingly terrified in a film, Shelley Duvall imbues this character with enough of a genuine care for her child's well being and an absolute ability to make us believe she does not understand what is happening at all that without her, without which the film wouldn't hold together at all. Her character is the lynch pin in the entire story. She is the one who is least aware of what is really happening to her husband as they try to wait out the winter together in the deserted resort hotel. Her son's psychic abilities, or his ability to "shine" as the always interesting and sympathetic Scatman Crothers calls it, gives him some ideas about what's going on she is never privy to. Her husband is losing his mind completely as she so memorably finds out when she reads his "manuscript" which is nothing but a number of reams of patterned typing of the sentence, "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." Kubrick and Duvall had many a disagreement during filming, but she would later go on to say the film and Kubrick had probably taught her more than anything else she'd ever done. One is forced to wonder in seeing interviews with her during filming whether or not Kubrick purposely pushed her to her limit emotionally to help to bring this performance out. One way or another, Duvall has a place in my Hall of Fear for her incredible performance. When you consider the fact that she has at least as much screen time as Jack, and that the film never lags when she's not sharing the screen with him, you have to conclude that although he got the juicy lines, Duvall went toe to toe with Nicholson in this film.

Last, comes the real antagonist of the film, The Overlook Hotel. Oregon's Timberline Hotel is assigned the task of taking over the role of the sinister Overlook. It's isolated location, rooms both large and small somehow all contribute to the films feeling of claustrophobia and ever present evil. Never has such a breathtakingly beautiful location been so terrifying at the same time. There may not have been another place in the world which would have so well lent itself to the story. Since the hotel is actually a character in the story, it was essential to find someplace which was both majestic and somewhat unsettling, and I'm not sure whether it was Kubrick's directing entirely or just the sheer size of the place which helped create that. Again without it, the film would never have worked nearly as well as it does. The hedgemaze outside being the absolutely perfect place for the climax of the film, and another somehow eerie touch during the rest of the film.

This is one of those rare films that not only transcends genre, but also transcends time and in many ways the limits of the medium itself. "Stanley Kubrick's, The Shining" is a masterpiece and work of art in film, not only in horror films. Even if you're not a fan of horror films, this is one you have to see. If for no other reason than the fact that you'll be able to add one horror film to the list of your favorite films.