Movies: The Official "Movie of the Week" Club Thread III

[kihei]

Michael Mann thoughts:

I delayed commenting on Mann last night not because it was late, but because I realized I don't really know Michael Mann from Adam. Truth be told, with few exceptions--Scorsese, the Coen brothers; the Safdie brothers, Sofia Coppola--I don't really follow US directors much, if at all. With a smattering of significant exceptions, I'm usually deeply underwhelmed by the Hollywood product and the Sundance-type of movie doesn't usually thrill me either. So I had zero position on Mann last night, call it benign neglect, until I looked him up. Now I have a position: I think he is at best a hack with a trickle of good movies--Thief; The Insider; Collateral--and, at worst, a bad director, certainly a superficial one. Movies of his that it turns out that I have seen have almost all been bombs in my opinion--The Last of the Mohicans; Heat; Ali; Miami Vice; Public Enemies; Black Hat. There's not a movie among those that I think any number of Hollywood directors couldn't have done a better job on--assuming they accepted the scripts in the first place, which is a massively big assumption.

I have not seen Manhunter, but I will pick it up

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Michael Mann thoughts:

I delayed commenting on Mann last night not because it was late, but because I realized I don't really know Michael Mann from Adam. Truth be told, with few exceptions--Scorsese, the Coen brothers; the Safdie brothers, Sofia Coppola--I don't really follow US directors much, if at all. With a smattering of significant exceptions, I'm usually deeply underwhelmed by the Hollywood product and the Sundance-type of movie doesn't usually thrill me either. So I had zero position on Mann last night, call it benign neglect, until I looked him up. Now I have a position: I think he is at best a hack with a trickle of good movies--Thief; The Insider; Collateral--and, at worst, a bad director, certainly a superficial one. Movies of his that it turns out that I have seen have almost all been bombs in my opinion--The Last of the Mohicans; Heat; Ali; Miami Vice; Public Enemies; Black Hat. There's not a movie among those that I think any number of Hollywood directors couldn't have done a better job on--assuming they accepted the scripts in the first place, which is a massively big assumption.

I have not seen Manhunter, but I will pick it up

'Benign neglect' -- I'm stealing that.

 

[kihei]

'Benign neglect' -- I'm stealing that.

Be my guest as I stole it from the late Senator Patrick Moynahan:

The concept of benign neglect was coined by the late Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan (D-NY) in a January 1970 memo to President Richard M. Nixon while he served as the latter’s Urban Affairs counselor. The widely circulated memo, which was leaked to the press in March of that same year, read: “The time may have come when the issue of race could benefit from a period of ‘benign neglect’.”

Kind of stuck in my mind, it did. That was way back when asshole politicians still had a way with words.

 

[nameless1]

That is so harsh on Michael Mann, but I am not passionate enough to form a rebuttal.


I do like Mann overall, but I cannot disagree with you either. He has gems along with absolute bombs. At least his style is rather distinct, and that helps him to stand out.

 

[Pranzo Oltranzista]

I think he is at best a hack with a trickle of good movies--Thief; The Insider; Collateral--and, at worst, a bad director, certainly a superficial one.

Always thought of him as a poor man's Michael Cimino.

 

[Pranzo Oltranzista]

But then again... He did do The Keep. What a weird project.

 

[Spring in Fialta]

I don't even know what he looks like, and I've seen a number of the movies mentioned by the dean. That about says it all.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

This is all fascinating to me. It seems I have lived in a very pro-Mann bubble for much of my life (between friends of mine and critics I grew up reading). He's got a few duds for sure, but I've always regarded him as one of the better thriller directors of the last few decades.

While kihei wonders if hacks could do better, when I see a hacky thriller, Mann is the exact type of guy I think of when I think "Who could do this better?" I don't have an impassioned defense of him. I hit the few key touch points I enjoy in my Heat write-up — there's a slickness I like and he doesn't mind doodling a little in the margins/taking side trips that give his movies a little more life than the standard replacement level shoot up or heist movie (which probably stars Gerard Butler). I think he gets good performances from his actors as well, sometimes maybe better than the material even deserves.

 

[Jevo]

Heat (1995) dir. Michael Mann

Neil McCauley (Robert De Niro) is a seasoned thief leading a crew, most of whom he's worked with for a long time. They are very professional, and everything is planned to the smallest detail to make sure everything happens fast and safely. In his private life he's somewhat of a hermit, helives by the code that he should have nothing in his life he can't leave behind at a moments notice should he need to. To rob an armoured car, the crew hires an outsider, Waingro, to help them. Waingro turns out to not be as professional as the others, and he shoots one of the security guards unprovoked. McCauley is very mad at Waingro, and even wants him dead, but Waingro escapes from the crew. McCauley also meets a woman, Eady, who he starts a relationship with. His lust for revenge on Waingro and love for Eady, is something that begins to shatter the foundation of his mantra of being able to leave everything behind. The killing of the security guards sends LAPDs Vincent Hanna (Al Pacino) on the case. He quickly gets the scent of the crew and McCauley. Even with the police on their tail, the crew decides to go for one last score, a big bank robbery which would set them up for life.

Heat is a long film, almost 3 hours. It wants to be more, it wants to have rich supporting characters, so that we'll care about McCauley's crew when they die. But I'm not sure it really works for me. I never really got invested in Chris and Cheritto as characters, so their fate didn't affect me a whole lot compared to most other secondary characters in thrillers. In general I feel the movie could have been tighter, I feel it's become too bloated. I didn't care much for the Eady-McCauley relationship, which might stem from the fact that I don't think Amy Brenneman did a particularly good job as Eady. The relationship only exists so McCauley can break his rule about not having anything you can't leave behind. But in the end it's not Eady, but his revenge agaisnt Waingro that gets him caught. So I'm sorta left wondering if that whole relationship could have been cut without the movie losing a lot. Of course it also allows the movie to show some of the things that McCauley has had to let go because of his line of work. Among them a close relationship with another person, something that he desires but keeps himself away from until he meets Eady. And that has some value, so maybe it's not totally useless.

The big draw of the movie has to be that it has Al Pacino and Robert De Niro together. The two big actors of their generation, finally together. The were both in The Godfather II, but never on screen at the same time. But here we finally get them on screen at the same time, interacting. For like 10 minutes. But what 10 minutes those are. By far the best 10 minutes of the film. But there's 160 minutes of the film where they are not together, and you kinda wish they were together for more of those minutes. That one scene is worth seeing the movie for by it self. It's great to be able to see them together going at it, before they either got too old or stopped caring.

Heat is a good thriller, but I think it's a bit too long. It wants to be more than your standard Hollywood thriller, which I applaud it for. But I'm not sure I agree with its approach. Instead of trying to be deeper, it just tries to be more, by having more characters with more stories. But most of these characters are paper thin, and because we have to spend time with them, all these scenes end up slowing the movie down in places where it didn't need to. I don't think people like Heat because of Ashley Judd, I think they like it because Al Pacino and Robert De Niro give great performances, and Michael Mann does a very competent job at directing. I think a tighter script could have worked in the movies favour, and that might involve losing the likes of Ashley Judd. But it would mean a bigger percentage of the movie is spent with either Al Pacino or Robert De Niro, and the movie is just at its best when scenes are centered around them.

 

[kihei]

The Phantom Carriage (1921) Directed by Viktor Sjostrom

On New Year's Eve, Sister Edith, a Salvation Army worker, lays on her deathbed. Her last request is to have David Holm come to her bedside. Those in attendance are horrified that she should make such a request as David Holm is a local consumptive drunkard who has led a thoroughly irresponsible life in which he has created great hardship for those who try to love him. When we first meet him he is telling cronies a New Year's story about how the last irresolute man to die on New Year's Eve is cursed to drive death's carriage for an entire year. Little does he realize that he will become that man. Through a brilliant use of flashbacks and even flashbacks within flashbacks, we learn both why Sister Edith made her strange request and just how degraded a man David Holm has allowed himself to become. The Phantom Carriage is a lot of different things at the same time: a ghost story, a tragedy, an unflinching moral tale, and ultimately a story about redemption. Director Sjostrom is not only a master of complex cinematic form but he also, through his use of lighting and the subtle deliberate movement of his performers, provides the film with an eerie quality that adds immeasurably to the atmosphere of the movie.. His use of ghostly super-impositions of the death carriage making its rounds adds to the almost ethereal quality of the film (Sjostrom also creates a sequence with an axe that Stanley Kubrick will borrow decades later in The Shining). Many critics have noted in Ingmar Bergman's works the strong influence of Sjostrom. That's hardly idle speculation either as Sjostrom befriended and mentored Bergman early in his career. Bergman would later repay that kindness. Sjostrom who plays David Holm in The Phantom Carriage also played the Dr. Borg, the main character in Bergman's highly regarded Wild Strawberries. Rather fittingly, it was Sjostrom's last film.

intertitles

 

[kihei]

My next pick is Louis Malle's Murmur of the Heart, available on MUBI.

 

[member 51464]

When I was a younger man, I thought the famous bank robbery scene was the best part of Heat.

Only later did I come to realize it's actually this:

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

The Phantom Carriage
Sjostrom (1921)
“Lord please let my soul come to maturity before it is reaped.”

David is a drunk. Strayed from his family. Sister Edit once tried to help him and his wife Anna, but David’s old ways were too much. One New Year’s Eve as Edit lays dying of consumption (that she got from David), she prays to see David one last time. In a twist worthy of O. Henry, she’ll get her wish. David dies. He’s the last death of the year and, as the legend goes, is destined to be the driver of the Phantom Carriage, cursed with collecting the dead for the next year. His old friend Georges happens to the current driver, he rounds up a reluctant David to go collect Edit.

In a series of flashbacks we see how awful David was. Drunk and belligerent (is that one scene a direct inspiration for The Shining or mere coincidence?). He’s awful to Anna and their children, openly trying to give them consumption too. The previous New Year’s, Edit takes him in and helps him, sewing the pockets of his coat. She asks him to return in a year to see how he’s doing. She’ll get her wish. A sorrowful Edit wants to convince David (now a ghost) to right his ways. He listens to here pleas and learns Anna is a going to kill herself and her kids ... that finally does it. He repents and is returned to life. He rushes home to save his family. Hopefully he can stay on the path this time.

So kihei did you pick a movie where a deadly respiratory illness plays a key roll on purpose or is it a happy accident?

We’ve been doing this thing of ours for quite some time now and I’ve been fairly open about my struggles with silent films. My 1980s-raised brain sometimes struggles to maintain focus. Not really a problem here though. The story was pretty compelling — particularly its structure and how it patiently reveals more and more about the key characters and their connections. The moral and spiritual questions here are pretty broad and generic, but it isn’t hard to see this making an impression on young Ingmar Bergman. And now for the second time in the last four reviews I’m being reminded of Bergman. Maybe my brain is craving Bergman.

Visually I dug this too, especially those spooky blue tinted scenes. Like Haxan, I was impressed with the effectiveness of the pretty rudimentary special effects. Pretty rad. There are major budgeted movies of recent vintage that have worse special effects relative to the movie.

I wasn’t the biggest fan of the score layered onto this version. I don’t know if it is someone’s own creation or if it is actually tied to what accompanied the original version in any way. The eerie droning fit some portions of the movie well (the graveyard, in particular), but felt incongruous with the more domestic scenes. It certainly sets a mood but I’m not sure the action/visuals always fit that mood. But hey, what can you do?

 

[Jevo]

The Phantom Carriage (1921) dir. Victor Sjöström

Daniel Holm (Victor Sjöström) is a drunkard, who's travelling round Sweden looking for his wife, who left him with their kids due to his drinking. He's hardly reformed, and what he might do if he finds them, only God knows. One New Years eve he gets knocked out in a fight in a graveyard, and he gets visited by the Phantom Carriage. Whoever dies last in each year, is destined to drive the Phantom Carriage collecting dead souls for the devil, and this year it's Daniel Holm.

The story bears a lot of resemblance to A Christmas Carol. A troubled man gets visisted by a spirit in the night, and is shown the error of his ways. But within the story they are quite different. A Christmas Carol is ultimately a lot about class, and class isn't a thing in The Phantom Carriage, here all are on the bottom of society. Some are good, some are bad, and some are able to see the good in those that appear bad. The Phantom Carriage is also more raw and explicit than any adaptation of A Christmas Carol that I can recall seeing.

There are many silent films which still hold up today. But very few of them has the distinction of feeling modern. But I think The Phantom Carriage has that distinction. The narrative is quite complex, especially for its time, with many flashbacks, and even flashbacks within flashbacks. The movie however is straight forward to follow, it pulls off it's complex narrative structure with apparent ease, and easily guides the viewer through it, without ever overexplaining itself. I could see this story being done like this today, without a lot a change. The acting is also a pleasure to watch. There's hardly any overacting to be found anywhere in the movie, something which plagues many silent films, and it's one thing that often makes them feel dated. But Sjöström often films his actors up close and has them emote with their face instead of their whole body. It feels very natural, and it's a big reason why this movie holds up so well after almost 100 years. Using double exposure for special effects is not something that is done anymore, it has been replaced by CGI. But in 1921 it was advanced stuff, especially here because in several scenes the scene has been layered more than twice, which makes it feel more like it is in the scene, rather than just something that exists on top of the background. Apparently the cameras used in filming this film were hand cranked, so that makes it even more impressive, as the same frame rate had to be achieved by hand to get a natural look. The double exposure effect doesn't exactly look 'real', but it's very eerie, and I think they made it work extremely well. From the first time we see The Phantom Carriage, I was on board with it. It just worked.

I really liked The Phantom Carriage, and what stood out to me the most was probably how natural the characters and acting was, especially for the time. Compare that to something like Nosferatu from the same year, where the acting is much more stilted and less natural. Of course they are quite different films, and characters are much more important in The Phantom Carriage, so the direction is also different, but it's something to note.

Stanley Kubrick was a supposedly a fan of The Phantom Carriage, and there's at least one very obvious scene which he has "stolen" from this movie, the door axeing scene. It's almost shot for shot the same, and very good in both films.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

The Phantom Carriage (1921) dir. Victor Sjöström

I really liked The Phantom Carriage, and what stood out to me the most was probably how natural the characters and acting was, especially for the time. Compare that to something like Nosferatu from the same year, where the acting is much more stilted and less natural. Of course they are quite different films, and characters are much more important in The Phantom Carriage, so the direction is also different, but it's something to note.

I made a noted of this as well but neglected to include it in my writing. That jumped out to me too. Noticeably less exaggerated.

 

[Jevo]

Nocturnal Animals (2016) dir. Tom Ford

Susan Morrow (Amy Adams) is a successful gallery owner in New York. One day she receives a package from her estranged ex-husband Edward (Jake Gyllenhall), who she hasn’t seen for 20 years. Edward is a writer, and the package contains his newest book, dedicated to Susan. While her husband travels to New York on a business trip to meet his lover, Susan starts reading the book. The book is about Tony Hastings (Jake Gyllenhall), who together with his wife (Isla Fisher) and daughter are on a roadtrip across Texas. One night on the highway, they get forced off the road by a gang of thugs. The movie cuts back and forth between Susan, the book, and Susan reminiscing about her and Edward back when they were falling in love.

During the film we learn that Susan might not have left Edward on the best terms. She let her mom’s words about Edward being driven enough for her get to her, and she started believing it as well. Which led to her dissatisfaction with their marriage. She then left him for her lover, and she aborted their child to start over fresh with no ties to him. There are definite parallels between the way Susan left Edward, and how Tony gets his wife and daughter robbed from him by the thugs in the desert. And Susan sees them too. In her mind Tony is represented by Edward, and Tony’s wife is represented by discount Amy Adams, Isla Fisher. Susan knows she didn’t do right by Edward with the way she left him. But she hasn’t offered him much thought over the last 20 years, while Edward is obviously still very hurt by the way their marriage ended.

With Tom Ford’s background as a fashion designer, I don’t think there’s much doubt he has a great eye for the visual side of film. Set design and cinematography is great, and the film is very slick and looks great. But perhaps a bit too slick, even middle-of-nowhere Texas manages to look good here. But Ford shows here that he also has talents as a director. I think the scene at the side of the road on the highway is one of the best scenes I’ve seen in a modern thriller. Really great direction for that scene. The rest of the movie is a bit more uneven. I think generally the Nocturnal Animals story is great, and well done. But the frame story is not as engaging, but it helps create more emotional depth to the Nocturnal Animals story. But there’s only so many times I can see Amy Adams gasp and drop a book before it starts getting old. Rich person ennui is also a tough sell most of the time, and I’m not sure I’m really sold here. Ford is no Sofia Coppola in this department.

Aaron Taylor-Johnson as Ray got a lot of praise when the movie came out. But I’m not super impressed by his performance. He wasn’t bad. But Ray is played very over the top, and to me he ends up being a bit cartoonish at times. I was much more impressed with Michael Shannon, who as usual takes a character who does have much meat on him in the script, and makes him a proper three dimensional character. Shannon is one of my favourite actors at the moment, I’ve rarely if ever been disappointed by him. Jake Gyllenhall also does a very good job. Amy Adams is as always good, but often she doesn’t get much to work with, and seems to have been asked to just look pretty and depressed.

 

[Pranzo Oltranzista]

Oh I'm pretty sure I wrote a short comment somewhere about the film - I didn't think I'd care about the loss of the search engine in here...

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Nocturnal Animals
Ford (2016)
“Nobody writes about anything but themselves.”

Susan lives a sad, dissatisfied life. Despite being rich and revered as an art curator, it’s clear what’s left of her marriage is evaporating. Her daughter doesn’t care. Her husband is cheating on her both with his job and a mistress. But something arrives on a lonesome Friday night ... a book. It’s the proof of a novel by Edward, once her young love, but a man she cast aside 19 years earlier to pursue the more lavish (and socially fitting) life that’s burying her today. The book, dedicated to her, proves to be her only comfort, a connection to a past where she was loved and valued ... not, of course, that she loved and valued another ...

The book is the tale of Tony. A horrifying road rage/harassment on a deserted Texas highway results in the kidnapping of his wife and daughter and leaves him abandoned in the desolate wilderness. He makes his way back to society and eventually learns his wife and daughter were both raped and murdered by the trio of monsters. He partners with a local cop dying of lung cancer. Their journey (which jumps ahead in time) leads them to taking their own vengeance on the men. Catharsis. Justice. Maybe even a little cosmic justice for Tony who gets his revenge, but also dies blind in the blazing sun. Heavy stuff.

The book’s story unfolds as Susan reads. The overall story is intercut with flashbacks to her life spurred by the book. Edward was a good man, a sensitive artist. She cheated on him and cast him away. An opportunity arrives to see him again. She takes his invite, excited. She looks her best and goes to meet him at a restaurant. He never shows. She’s left alone.

Nocturnal Animals is not a subtle movie. Visually it opens with an art show of slow motion gyrating obese women just daring you to turn the movie off. Performance-wise the three male leads (Jake Gyllenhal, Michael Shannon and Aaron Taylor Johnson who definitely has a poster of Dennis Hopper in Blue Velvet above his bed) have their dials turned to 11. Amy Adams is comparatively low key unless you count the dramatic shots of her “upset” reading face. The supporting cast beyond that is a mixed bag. I’ll almost never say no to a Michael Sheen appearance, but Isla Fisher has a nothing role and Laura Linney I just felt bad for. She’s just 10 year younger than Amy Adams but is aged up in a thankless cliche of a status-obsesses monied Texas mother.

Writer-director Tom Ford probably snapped the lead of his pencil repeatedly underlining the word WEAKNESS on his note pad. This is a revenge fantasy with the real revenge of a spurned lover masked by a gnarly potboiler about a normal man driven to violence by violence. It’s not a bad idea or a bad structure though I suspect ones mileage is going to vary with its overheated execution.

The personal backstory here is that I went through a divorce exactly when this movie came out and believe you me, this is the EXACT type of angry, unhinged, emotional, maybe even melodramatic story I needed and wanted at that time. We always like to think we’re more interesting than we are but the fairly banal story of Susan and Edward hit home in an uncomfortable, but cathartic way. Its generic enough in details to probably resonate fairly broadly. But I’m tempted to forgive its shoddy rawness because dammit man, I get it. I’ve been that angry and hurt too and while you want to be smarter or more articulate, sometimes you’re just emotional and sloppy. Like this.

Now here’s the twist in this tale. This was my first watch since seeing it in a theater back in probably November/December of 2016. This time, when it reached the end and Edward the writer used his book to stick his fingers in Susan’s open wound and than poured salt in it by teasing her with a potential new life and then never showing, I didn’t get the same up yours rush I first experienced ... I actually felt sorry for her.

In the end, is Edward any less cruel and cowardly?

I think it was Blink 182 who once sang, “I guess this is growing up.”

I don't know if I'll return to this again, but it once had a place and time for me.

 

[Jevo]

My next pick is the 1929 Pandora's Box.

 

[kihei]

Nocturnal Animals (2016) Directed by Tom Ford

Have you ever wondered why you don't like something that, on paper, it seems that you should like a lot? Nocturnal Animals should be right down my alley. A stylishly-shot movie with a fresh and intricate plot that adds up to a subtle form of revenge for a payoff? I should gobble that stuff up. But I seriously disliked this movie; in fact, so much so that it left a bad taste in my mouth. So I have spent some time thinking about it (because it's that or stare at my cats these days), and I have come to the conclusion that it is a combination of script, direction and actress that has torpedoed my feelings for this flick. The plot is potentially great, but that doesn't mean the script is. I never felt a thing for these empty people who never seemed real to me in the first place--they seemed like plot devices, nothing more. I didn't like them; I didn't believe them; I didn't care what happened to them. They seemed vehicles with which to get from point "A" to point "B," that's it.

Which gets us to the direction--yes, the movie is stylish in a way that a Vogue Magazine photo layout is stylish--that is the style seemed to be lacquered on to sell a product, not for any other purpose intrinsic to the movie. It's lipstick on a pig basically. I know that Ford is a fashion world guy, which is fine, but for some reason, maybe inexperience, he resorts to a lazy approach to direction here. Like he is good with the art design but not so good with the actors. Didn't anybody clue him in on the fact that they have to be sympathetic for this story to have the impact it should? Ford just seems to give his actors free rein to interpret their characters and it becomes a hodgepodge of approaches as they all practice the teaching styles that they learned in acting school.

Which brings us to Amy Adams. There is something I don't like about Amy Adams. Maybe it has to do, completely unfairly, I concede, with a comment I remember from some actor who went out with her for a while and who said that dating her was like "going out with a third-grader." That really clicked for some reason and now I know why, at least a bit better than I did before I saw this movie. In Nocturnal Animals, she spends oceans of time sitting around in close-up trying to express something. It is like a face that won't go away. And she tries hard, too hard, to eat up that time with what for her must seem like appropriate facial expressions. But she telegraphs her thought process to the extent that you can see the wheels go around--it's like she is thinking "now I'm just going to glance over here and look a little sadder or maybe kind of thoughtful or maybe depressed or maybe, oh, I don't know...dang it". Especially in her big, silent final scene, I hated watching her go through these moronic contortions, obviously meant to be subtle but anything but. I would suggest that it is safe to say that she acts at a third-grader's level, like a kid trying hard to figure out how to express an adult feeling on screen. In the end I found Nocturnal Animals an unpleasant experience, one of those movies I wish I could just un-see. Maybe if Denis Villeneuve got a new script and virtually any other actress (though he got a good performance out of Adams in Arrival) and started from scratch...then that I might like.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Stop Making Sense
Demme (1984)
“Hi. I got a tape I want to play.”

There are plenty of other venerated rock movies/documentaries out there — Woodstock, Monterey Pop, The Last Waltz, Gimme Shelter — but I always feel like the camera is incidental to many. What happened was going to happen regardless. I mean, sure, that’s like documentaries, man! That’s their whole bag. Set it up and observe what happens. In Stop Making Sense, however, the cameras are essential. The cameras are why it exists. It’s performance for cameras more than audience. Unlike so many others, it’s not a movie about a show. The show is the movie. It was conceived and executed for theaters, not for those in the theater.

You hear the audience, but don’t really see anyone until the very end. There isn’t much in the way of interstitial transitions. No interviews. It’s a film featuring the Talking Heads that does not rely on any talking heads, if you’ll allow the obvious and awful pun. No explanations. Just song, song, song, song. And it’s marvelous. It really is the old adage: Show, don’t tell.

I’m an unabashed Talking Heads fan and I’ve seen this multiple times. I adore some of the songs here. For this though, I’m trying to separate the music from the filmmaking. Since this is movie time.

The real tell about the game being played comes in the opening number. The show starts with David Byrne playing and singing Psycho Killer along to a cassette tape. (An Andy Kaufman-esque touch). The stage is unfinished, unset, with no one on it but Byrne. It’s a nice visual juxtaposition of looking sloppy while the in reality everything is obviously coordinated and planned to the finest details, even his awkward stumbling to the skipping music. Again, a traditional rock doc feels like it’s capturing impulse. This is designed. From there, each band member comes out one song at a time, gradually building to a full and lively stage and the spastic Byrne absolutely coated in sweat.

He’s not the only one working hard. The band (save drummer Chris Frantz) is in constant motion, running in place, dancing, swaying. It’s church-like at times and Byrne is the gumby-limbed, mugging preacher. Another thing — though it happens on occasion, band members rare look into or acknowledge the camera.

Byrne’s the star, but director Jonathan Demme isn’t far behind. It’s clear cameras are swarming the stage at all times, but it creates intimacy, not intrusion. There’s a lot of work here on all fronts (and sweat), but man it’s joyous, exuberant work. There are moments where its steers completely into the filmic aspects, particularly the almost German Expressionist interpretation of What a Day this Was or the cozier, gentler execution of This Must Be the Place. Bassist Tina Weymouth is my best supporting actress here being absolutely adorable during the latter and proving to be every bit as goofy as Byrne on the Tom Tom Club’s Genius of Love.

Yes, this is about music. But my takeaway is also energy, feeling. It just makes me happy. Perhaps it is a tough 90-minutes if the band really isn’t your thing, but I hope other elements shone through.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Next pick: Richard Brooks' In Cold Blood

 

[kihei]

Stop Making Sense (1986) Directed by Johnathan Demme

First, some personal notes. In August of 1983 I saw this tour at Canada’s Wonderland in the outskirts of Toronto. Taken simply as a concert by a great New Wave band, it was wonderful. Taken as a spectacle, with the exception of Pink Floyd’s The Wall and some David Bowie shows, it was the most impressive piece of rock performance art that I have witnessed, superior in its way to Neil Young’s imaginative Rust Never Sleeps show.

Talking Head’s live performance here is perfect for documenting on film. From its bare-bones, modest beginning—David Byrne alone on an empty stage with a beat box performing Psycho Killer—to its more elaborate progressions, there is an attention to tiny details and a unity of purpose that must have intrigued Johnathan Demme in terms of its visual potentialities. Slowly the show is joined by other members of Talking Heads, first Tina Weymouth and then Chris Frantz and, finally, Jerry Harrison. Eventually five black musicians augment the line-up: another guitarist, a keyboard player, a percussionist, and two female singers. The fact that black performers come to outnumber the white band members is no mistake as the music performed is deliberately much funkier than the more antiseptic studio recordings. With the brief exception of drummer Chris Frantz starting out in a teal top and Byrne using a red ball cap briefly, everyone wears neutral shades of stylish clothing, yet another aspect of the performance that is not left to happenstance. The stage and the performers are meant to have a specific look. Though the night the choreography of the show is eye-catching and looks absolutely exhausting. Frequently, everything seems in motion. Byrne is super intense in his nerdy way, Weymouth lays down tasty funk basslines that create deep, deep grooves for the band to lean into, and the music, abetted by all this careful staging, just flows like it has a life force of its own.

Byrne is obviously a smart guy. In fact, he has written an extremely impressive work on music and recording called How Music Works that could be used as a text in graduate classes on contemporary music and the music industry. Like Bowie, he was interested in art production and design during his early education and it shows. Though a good collaborator, it is safe to say that the conception of this show is his and pretty much his alone. He is a rock musician who is simultaneously an observer of the music that he is performing and of the impact that it is having on the audience. He opts for what in lesser hands would seem like a very foolhardy approach—his stage persona is exaggerated, awkward and almost comically uncool. Yet the end result is stylish, satiric and couldn’t be cooler if it tried. Byrne seems intent on puncturing rock egos and rock pomposity, but his playful destabilizing of the music’s performance clichés never extends to the music itself which is performed with wit, brilliance and expert execution by all concerned.

All of which must have made the show a treat to record for a director as skilled as Johnathan Demme. Demme’s contribution in terms of editing, duration of shot and shot selection can’t be faulted on any level. He seems to know exactly what he is dealing with and understands that the performance by the musicians needs no “up to 11” from him. He avoids all of the standard rock video clichés. He uses more lengthy takes, fewer quick cuts, his camera ever sensitive to what is happening on stage. There is nothing spontaneous or, for that matter, even pseudo-spontaneous about his approach. Yet, despite the calculation involved, the best thing I can say about the filming is that Demme’s presence is completely invisible—he is there to let the music and the staging speak for itself and it does. Most concert footage documentaries don’t really make you feel like you were there and witnessed the actual event. Stop Making Sense does; watching it always takes me right back to that night. There is nothing left to chance and, yet, everything feels vibrant and immediate. That is quite an achievement.

 

[Jevo]

Stop Making Sense (1984) dir. Jonathan Demme

David Byrne walks onto an empty stage holding a cassette player and a guitar. He ways he wants to play a tape, and the first song starts playing with him solo on stage. With each successive song, Byrne is joined by more members of Talking Heads, until the whole band including touring members are on the stage.

I've never really found watching concerts on TV to be much fun. The big fun in going to concerts is feeling the energy of the performers and the crowd, as much as it the music. Sitting at home on your couch means you don't feel the crowd, and most filmed concerts are saddled with uninspired editing and framing, which means you don't really feel the performers either. Stop Making Sense shows it doesn't have to be like that. The crowd is hardly acknowledge at all in the film until the very end. Which isn't a big deal, because you'll get a party going in your living room with this film. And it's probably even for the better, as all the focus is on the band, and they have so much energy going on all the time, that looking at the crowd would only mean that you'll lose some of that energy. The energy on the stage is franci, but there's nothing frantic about the editing or the camera work here. It's subtle and deliberate. There's no sweeping camera moves or quick cuts. The camera acts more like a face in the crowd, mostly stationary, following one or a few persons on stage, often in long unbroken sequences between cuts. Quite akin to how I feel my eyes moves when I am at a concert. The band doesn't acknowledge or interact with the camera's either, despite the concerts filmed here, being staged almost exclusively to make this movie. Which helps make the camera feel like it is a part of the crowd. Stop Making Sense is a perfect example of when less is more. Demme has created a immersive experience, while also making the band the star of the film.

If I had listened to Talking Heads before watching this film, I wasn't aware of it, although they are in a genre I listen to on occassion. My lack of knowledge of the band, and my general opionion on watching concerts on TV meant I wasn't exactly hyped before starting the film. Slowly but surely however, the band won me over with their incredibly energetic performance. In particular David Byrne, who is the star of the film. He's all the stage, running, dancing, jumping. Even when he's standing still he's running. The rest of the band is just trying to keep up, and to their credit they do. There is so much energy in this film, that it's just impossible not to go along with it. Here you really do feel the band, and it almost doesn't matter that you don't feel the crowd, maybe if you invite a few friends over you'll feel it. Stop Making Sense was a very nice surprise for me.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Glad you both enjoyed Stop Making Sense. Like @Jevo I can't gin up a lot of energy or love for concert movies (yes, even The Last Waltz which is obsessed over by far too many people I know). I love music but concert films often feel a little like a friend telling you about the awesome time they had while you were out somewhere else or someone trying to replicate a great meal you had at a restaurant at home. It's fine, maybe even good, but so obviously not the same.

While I am sure seeing Talking Heads live would be better than even this great film, the film feels made for me (and you), which is the key reason I think it stands out above others in the genre. And, frankly, why I thought it would play ok to this crowd.