The above title is rather vague, and by no means does it intend to be a final category, a cinematic cemetery so to speak. There are many things that influence the artisitic qualities of any intended artwork. These are only partially based on technical skills. Related to those is the whole creative process, which together with its outcome is the real piece of art as one friend of mine put it so nicely. In the recognition of an artistic attempt as such, it also matters what audience the artist has in mind (if any) and whether he has the skill to appeal to the taste of his/her target audience. These may be all additional characteristics of the artistic enterprise, which I think would be best defined as an attempt of (self-)expression. The prefix "self-" goes almost without saying, as any work bears the trademarks of its creator. The relation of the very general idea of self-expression to the more specific thoughts mentioned above is an interesting question. For example, if a piece of work is a perfect representation of a technical skill, but has, say, very narrow target audience, than the self-expression itself will have few witnesses, it will be a sort of "l'art pour l'art", with a very narrow communicational channel. I think it is important that such things exist, but art I feel should by no means be restricted to special communication. Indeed, different objects for expression may well determine how narrow or wide that channel be. Another interesting question, which brings me closer to the topic in the title is what if you have something to express, but have not the technical skill or the skill to address the desired audience. These of course can be learned to some extent, nevertheless, it is for this reason that I have an interest in films that usually go down under the header "Trash Cinema". For me, expression remains the central concept, the rest are important but secondary factors which may be disregarded while searching for the essence. A movie, if a technical failure, or non-appealing to some taste may still contain the seed of something intended for expression. Indeed, it has often been the case that some idea discovered in such an unsuccessful attempt later flourished in some more fortunate adaptation.
An interesting case of cinematic influence of the sort is Tim Burton's "Ed Wood" (1994). Of the sort, I say, because the film is no remake of any Ed Wood pictures, but an equivalent attempt to capture the motivation that drove the unhappy owner of the title of the worst director ever. It is not an accurate biography but an impression Burton seems to have had of Ed Wood. I am posting here the scene from the film where Wood, played by Johnny Depp, reacts on some of the comments he receives. For him, such things as settings, obviously fake looking for anyone else, doesn't matter, and he believes none will notice such minute details, they will diminish once he achieved his main goal: telling his story. And in essence, and it must be stressed that in essence only, he is right, telling your own story is the most important, and I think the struggle to achieve this end must have been the charm that made Tim Burton to film this movie. But of course, if you desire that your work be enjoyed by anybody else, you must pay attention to those small details, even just out of respect for your own work. I can appreciate what it may be like to work on your dream-come-true, leaving any links to conventional reality behind, but it is also natural that the way Ed Wood did that cannot be expected to earn the widespread success he so much desired. Depp also pointed out in an interview something that I must mention here, that it was the pioneering boldness of directors like Ed Wood, if not the success of their own work, that made it possible in the following eras for many talented directors to emerge and explore similar territories of the human mind.
So much about impressions of Ed Wood, now, let's have a look at an actual Ed Wood movie. As probably "Plan 9 From Outer Space" (1958) is the most notorious one, I have chosen to post its trailer here, though perhaps some other of Wood's films as "Glen or Glenda" would better illustrate his attempts of self-expression. Plan 9 is remembered for its paper made tombstones and flying saucers, the occasionally funny twists of plots and its characters. I think some shots definitely have something nice in the tradition of older Gothic cinema, but the whole thing gets mixed up with something out of the context, that serves no purpose, or probably wasn't even noticed. For me, the silliest thing that happens in the movie, is when at the end our heroes hold the evil conquering aliens at gunpoint. I mean the species that rules the galaxy, controls the dead and is technically way beyond our reach suddenly just throws itself at the feet of a human in its failure to protect itself just because he has a gun. All this in the flying saucer obviously unprotected against intruders with guns...
Interestingly, the two other film makers I wanted to write about here, were also called the Ed Wood of their own kind, though this was not the link that I followed when selecting them. Hong Kong director Godfrey Ho was known for his cheap ninja movies. These would usually have two storylines, one with western actors, one with easterners, so that the movie could be sold in both markets. The connection between the two plots is sometimes very vague, maintained mainly by telephone conversations, which often makes you wonder if they were not better off with one plot... Furthermore the use of cameras seems very interesting, you may be never completely relieved from the suspense concerning who died in the area beyond the margin of the screen which event you may surmise from the battle noises. But the frequent action and some nice acrobatics would eventually make up for these other details when the films were sold. I have chosen a bit from "Ninja Terminator" (1985), that when I saw it made me laugh hysterically. So, the scene is about purchasing a bomb to rid yourself of your enemies. A natural enough activity in a world where ninjas or gangsters stand by every corner. If you wonder, why the big boss here wears a blond wig, it is never explained, but he does take it off in the end when he is dramatically challenged. My absolute favourite line is when the boss after an exhausting description of the advantages of the bomb he is going to buy, asks the essential question: "Will it blow my enemies up?"
I remember I came across a writing that dealt with the Gothic aspects of Joe D'Amato's work. I would have never imagined him being mentioned in that context... He has more in common with the other G of horror stories which I have little to do with these days: Gore. D'Amato, who was known to produce exploitations as well as pornographic and horror movies, should be mentioned here as a contrast, because he never expressed interest in producing any art at all, but as one of his characters put it: "We're not making artsy-farty crap for intellectual faggots. We're out to make money!" It is probably the cheap, almost documentary effect of some of his scenes that makes me remember those as among the most disgusting cinematic experiences I have ever had. Probably, by today, his style is already slow paced, but the reality he achieved caused many to actually accuse him of making snuff movies (movies depicting real murder). Take his "Anthropophagus" (1980) for instance. If I just say that it contains a fetus eating scene and ends with the cannibalistic murderer devouring himself, that should give an idea. What he expresses and exploits are the darkest regions of the human mind for profit, but still, that only works because they are there. It remains an intriguing question what to do with these, an what art can do with them in particular.
Sunday, 20 February 2011
David O'Reilly
I have recently received a link to the short film "The External World" from David O'Reilly. This little short is a continuous flow of thoughts and events that seem to be connected by a piano concert for which a boy is preparing at the beginning. For me, this is about everyday little frustrations beginning with the boy's torment from his perfectionist piano teacher, and moving on to those experienced by those who are to become his audience. I had this feeling of everyday friction and personal tragedies mixed up with the ignorance necessary to survive, all the way through the short. Except for the very end, where that piano concert, itself an offspring of such stress, seems to bring some calmness to the rush of the world. I then went on to check out O'Reilly's website, whose name was somehow familiar. I think now probably because of Future Shorts. He has a short distributed there, which is made free, and therefore comes with the explicit request of its director that it be embedded as many times as possible (being the only way to distribute it). I am more than willing to oblige, since I liked that short very much. "Please Say Something", is about those questions we never get an answer for in life. Some of them are even impossible to put into words. The feeling when you hope for comfort from someone important about one of these questions, but he/she remains silent. They have the same questions and the same lack of answers. Even god seems to be mystified... And while we suppress these feelings, and deal with the everyday rush, the routine of our existence may just suddenly come to an end.
Saturday, 19 February 2011
Le locataire
"Le locataire" (The Tenant) is perhaps not one of the best known films of Roman Polanski, but definitely a very interesting one. Made in 1976 as the final piece of his "Apartment trilogy", the film was based on the novel of artist Roland Topor, whom I mentioned already in an earlier post in relation to his visual art. The story is a psychological exploration of the effects of an oppressive environment on individuality, and the resulting suspicion and tension that eventually grow into dramatic proportions. Individual sensitivity pursued into a frantic denial of total submission to the common. Polanski plays the new tenant who is moving in to a flat previous owner of which tried to commit suicide by jumping out of the window. The flat seems nice, but then things start going wrong. It begins with neighbours complaining about his habits, after which he tries to adapt as much as he can, but gradually becomes paranoid about his neighbours trying to turn him into a substitute of the previous tenant. All this seems to be substantiated by some bizarre discoveries he makes about the household. We don't get to know in every detail how much of this is fantasy and how much is not, but the tension thus caused leads to a dramatic climax... twice in fact...
Friday, 18 February 2011
Classical Music In Toons
While searching for pieces from Rossini, I remembered that a great deal of toons utilise his and other composer's music in a creative way. So I decided, I will also post some of these here. In fact, there are so many of these, that it is not an easy choice to make. Still, I should begin with "The Rabbit of Seville" (1949), a Bugs Bunny adventure to the Overture of Rossini's The Barber of Seville. And if we are here, we cannot forget about the other Chuck Jones directed Bugs Bunny cartoon, "What's Opera, Doc?" (1957). It is based on the music from Wagner's operas, especially on the excerpt "Ritt der Walküren" (Ride of the Valkyries) from Wagner's "Die Walküre" (The Valkyrie, 1870), the second opera of his four part Norse mythology based cycle, "Der Ring des Nibelungen" (The Ring of the Nibelung). Hanna&Barbera's "The Cat Concerto" is a Tom and Jerry short, where Tom plays Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2. In the end, Jerry exhausts Tom by making him play the speedy ending of the rhapsody many times repeatedly. And finally, although it is somewhat different from the rest, I decided to post the initial animation sequence from Stallone's version of Oscar, which is a speedy version of Largo al factotum I like very much.
Rossini
Gioachino Rossini (1792-1868) can be held responsible for my earliest good experiences with opera that I remember. His "Il barbiere di Siviglia" (The Barber of Seville, 1816) has such catchy melodies always capable of awakening some good spirits in me that even when I first heard it I needed no knowledge of the background story to fall in love with it. Here I am posting the Overture and Figaro's aria, Largo al factotum, the two bits that I like most from the opera. The other piece I have involved is from Rossini's last opera, "Guillaume Tell" (William Tell, 1829). The Overture's famous finale provided the musical background for many pillow fights I participated in, its fast paced gallop to a dramatic climax providing the rhythm as we "beat" each other senseless...
Thursday, 17 February 2011
La Planète Sauvage
"La Planète Sauvage" (Fantastic Planet, 1973) is a milestone among surreal animations. It is a very good example to illustrate how various artists contribute to a single project. To begin with, it is the first feature length film of René Laloux, whose earlier shorts are of an interesting sort of experimental animation: he made many of them with the assistance of the interns of a psychiatric institute he was working at. The drawings are made by Roland Topor, whose name will surely reappear through some of his other works in this blog. It is also a rare if not the the only feature length animation exclusively made using paper cut-outs in Jiří Trnka's studio in Prague. The hypnotic music is composed by French jazz musician Alain Goraguer, and finally the story is based on a book by Stefan Wul, a dentist turned writer of science fiction. The result is a peculiar world of strangely alienated feelings, fearsomely savage for those who have not yet learned its secrets. The story goes as follows: On a mysterious planet, a giant species, the Draags keep humanlike creatures, called Oms (French wordplay on "hommes", man) as pets. An Om called Terr (wordplay on terrible and Earth) grows up in captivity, then escapes and leads the wild Oms against the Draags. It is his fearless desire to share knowledge that helps the Oms to evolve and alter their primitive conditions. The central theme is the confrontation of a highly developed civilization with uneducated intelligence. Whether the two races can learn to live in peace together, we only learn at the end...
Wednesday, 16 February 2011
Xala
The Senegalese author and film maker Ousmane Sembene is often credited with the title of the Father of African film. "Xala" (The Curse, 1975) is a comic social satire based on his own novel. Its protagonist, El Hadji, is a politician, a member of the first independent government of his country. Despite the new-found independence, the new government does most thinks in the usual western way, starting from their preference of the French language over the native Wolof tongue, to the exploitation of political power to personal ends; and El Hadji is no exception. On the day he marries his third wife however, he becomes impotent due to a curse, and desperately starts to look for a solution. He is even willing to see a "marabout" (a wise man), something he would have previously thought superstitious and ridiculous. During the process he gets closer to his African roots, but alienates his fellow politicians...
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