Final Project

Celebrity Profile: Michel Gondry

Abstract:

As a director, Michel Gondry creates imaginative worlds that seem to exist somewhere between the consciousness and the unconsciousness; states of waking and sleeping – better yet, dreaming. These clashes we see in films such as Science of Sleep, Eternal Sunshine of Spotless Mind, and his new release Be Kind Rewind transform into a surreal, chaotic reality. The audience does not immediately understand what they are seeing and Gondry very well understand the appeal of disorientation. Amongst the jumble of unfolding events that occur in the handmade prop sets that resemble children’s craft project, Gondry tells the stories about the longing for human relationships. His off-the-wall imaginations are often criticized for being puerile and his low-tech version of special effects are also controversial among many film critics. This project will examine why we all love Michel Gondry’s absurd dreams, and what the similar trend in independent films across the globe – I’m A Cyborg But That’s Ok (Korea), Love Me If You Dare (France), Waking Life (USA), etc - tells us (or tells about us).

The Oscars Without Excitement With No After-party to Go To

The Oscars Review

Wasn’t the writer’s strike over? What a pathetic “make-up sex” the 80th Academy Awards turned out to be! The all-too-long two hours wrapped up in a four-hour package without any heart-stopping moments supposedly had some face-saving circumstances for its slack performance. The hundred-day long strike left everything up in the air until a couple of weeks ago but did they seriously think that Hollywood would let the Oscars go unremarked? Besides, if God can create the universe in six days, surely a fortnight gives enough time to prepare for a decent award show.

With its endless profusion of montages from the past, the evening came close to what it would have been if the strike had not ended. There were times when the writers seemed to be going through the motions as evidenced when introducing Patrick Dempsey as “versatile.” The producers were in such a rush to get winners off the stage although the best moments come from memorable acceptance speeches.

As the host of the Daily Show, John Stewart was relaxed and funny in his second hosting of the Oscars. Only gently touching on his stock-in-trade, political humors, he did manage to score with several amusing ad-libs. One of the most notable moments came when he complained about the modest composer Glen Hansard("Once") by exclaiming, "That guy is so arrogant!" Stewart even dragged Irglova Marketa out again to deliver her remarks.

On the whole, it was a far better night for film than for fashion. There were some definite trends: strapless, wavy hair, toned-down jewels, and a serious lack of make-up or tanning. What was Tilda Swinton, this year’s Best Supporting Actress, thinking as she was getting dressed in her much criticized ‘garbage bag?’

As for Marion Cotillard, the French actress shined as she was awarded the Best Actress of the year for her portrayal of Edith Piaf in “La Vie En Rose.” Her emotional and earnest remarks was later shadowed by always-eloquent Daniel Day-Lewis describing the award as the "handsomest bludgeon in town” after being named the Best Actor for his performance in “There Will Be Blood.”

The former stripper Diablo Cody received the honor for the Best Screenwriter for the surprise hit Juno. There were a lot of first-time nominees and winners although Coen Brothers scooped Oscars including the Best Picture for “No Country for Old Men.”

It was nice to see the soldiers in Baghdad introduce the nominees for the Best Documentary Short Subject, but them saying that they “watch a ton of movies here [in Iraq] and love them all” was tacky and uncomfortable. (If they are in Baghdad watching movies, can we just bring them home instead?)

A few questions remain in the Octogenarian Oscars where no one apparently tried “too hard to please” as Steward said. Did Cate Blanchett really leave empty-handed? Was Owen Wilson feeling happy enough to be at the Oscars? And finally, were we supposed to think that we are lucky to be getting any at all during the fully staged rendition of three unmemorable “Enchanted” numbers?

Response to Hasting's Review on Michael Clayton

The cool and trendy film featuring the one and only George Clooney receives a raving review from Mike Hastings. As a former critic for Detroit Metrotimes and the current director of Netflix, Hastings' insights on popular American films as well as on the actors make his review more enjoyable, engaging and informative. Hastings draws on accurate and concise picture of Clooney's Michael Clayton without any spoiler, especially by the comparison he makes to Harvey Keitel in Pulp Fiction, an all American classic film.

By providing a backgroudn on Tony Gilroy, the director of Michael Clayton and the screenwriter for the Bourne Trilogy, Hastings allows his readers to establish an expectation for a suave political thriller.

An unmistakable fan of Clooney, Hastings praises this "most perversely bankable leading man in Hollywood," and shows his strong preference to Clooney over Edward Norton or Mel Gibson. (This may be arguable yet point well taken!)

I especially enjoyed his comparison of Tilda Swinton's Karen to "Lady Macbeth in a Burberry scarf, ruining lives with a stroke of her Blackberry." Further down in the review, this image of an all mighty corporate executives is reinforced when Hastings points out multinational corporations being stronger than Oprah and God combined in today's society. Satirical and exaggerated metaphors Hastings uses are right on the dot.

Hastings also targets a broader spectrum of audience by ensuring them that they "don't have to necessarily buy into the movie's dogma to enjoy" the film.

In the kicker, Hastings ties the knot by going back to calling Clayton a 'fixer' as he did in the lede of his review. This clever return to the point one smoothly concludes the piece. the only possible flaw on this review is that Hastings, for better or for worse, may be building too high of an expectation in his readers for the film.

Nothing But A Game

Review - Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf (the Whole Art Theatre, Kalamazoo, MI)

There are no games without pain, and the marital game, particularly, is a tough one to play. The Whole Art Theatre’s production of “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf” provides the audience a chance to examine the blood sport of marriage.

Based on Edward Albee’s 1962 Broadway play, “Virginia Woolf” is a story of a long night’s journey of a spineless history professor (George), his big-breasted antagonist wife (Martha), and their guests – a pretentious biologist (Nick) and his mousy wife (Honey).

As George and Marta continue their booze-fuelled battle, the audience realizes that their vicious marital wrestling match is only a device to hide real wounds. People prefer fantasy to reality and avoid looking directly at their pain. The scene where George slamming the door-chimes in agony after Nick and Martha runs off to the kitchen for the game of ‘hump the hostess,’ presents to us the chilling sign of vulnerability. The story acquires a shattering emotional power, as the characters break through the game-rounds and confront the truth about their much-discussed son. Like Martha says, “Truth or illusion, who knows the difference?”

Martie Philpot is remarkable at conveying the transition between Martha's braying sultriness and her suddenly becoming unbearably poignant as she faces the facts about herself and her gin-soaked charade – marriage. Philpot’s Martha cannot be any more convincing when she murmurs to herself “I disgust me.”

But it is Richard Philpot who truly steals the show by playing George, the pathetically obedient husband who does “whatever love wants.” The actor who spent eighteen years in New York City studying acting transforms himself into a perfect George and makes everyone wants to scream ‘how do you stand your wife?’ When George finally snaps and almost strangles Martha to death saying “Well, that’s one game, what should we do now?,” chill runs up and down the spine.

Carol Zombro (Honey), on the other hand, might want to consider that sometimes less is better and tone down the level of dramatization and her make up a bit. Even with the understanding of Honey’s overly perky and immature character, watching Zombro giggling and throwing a fit like an inane child wearing horrible green eyeshadows and orange lipstick seems over the top. Trevor Maher who plays Nick lags down the production. Maher’s over-theatrical performance is what makes the audience feel uncomfortable rather than the character’s pretentiousness, cockiness, anxiety and constant frown. Nick is supposed to be uncomfortable in the situation, not Maher on stage.

Despite a few minor flaws, Randy Wolfe, the director, pulls it all together and clearly demonstrates the intensity and drama that can be unleashed when the persona people have created are exposed. The story starts out with a simple question, ‘who will win tonight’s game?’ and moves dramatically toward an answer, exploring deeper issues such as the life of academia, marriage and the culture around it. The simple set that consists of two couches and shelves full of liqueur bottles, including the much-familiar Popov vodka, is sufficient enough to convince the audience of the middle-class house setting.

Toward the end, George asks Martha, “Are you tired? I am.” The story is an uneasy one to watch yet it has a strong grip on the audience and leaves them closely engaged for the whole 160 minutes. You will leave the theater shaken and emotionally exhausted from watching one helluva game.

Response to Brantley's Review on 'Virginia Woolf'

This is a response to a theatre review by Ben Brantley
'Marriage as Blood Sport: A No-Win Game'
March 21, 2005
http://theater2.nytimes.com/2005/03/21/theater/reviews/21wool.html


He got it right: most Americans would agree that marriage is a blood-sport where everyone ultimately loses. In his review, Ben Brantley gives a congratulatory applause to Anthony Page’s production of ‘Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf’ by saying that this ‘welcome surprise’ will make the audience leaving the theater ‘feeling like winners.’ Brantley gives a detailed analysis of the actors and their interpretation of the characters in the play, however, for readers with no previous experiences with Uta Hagen, Arthur Hill, Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton, or the play itself for that matter are left clueless by the comment like ‘there probably has never been a "Virginia Woolf" in which the leading roles initially register as such elemental contrasts.”

Brantley continues commending the success of the production by commenting on Director Page’s interpretation by which he tempered the original play's notorious vitriol with eye-opening compassion. According to Brantley, the actors - under Page and through their exceptional acting - restore characters who have acquired the faces of Freudian monsters to purely.

His review seems to be geared toward the older – perhaps middle aged – metropolitan theatergoer couples who had already been there, done that (marriage that is!) However, his raving claim about the ‘satisfaction that comes from witnessing one helluva fight’ is enough to draw in younger audience as well.

Now, Tell Me How You Feel..

Review - In Treatment

Each year, about 4 percent of the Americans are said to be ‘in treatment.’ America is the homeland for (psycho)therapies and it is deeply ingrained in American culture. Either you have ever been in therapy, known someone in therapy, or just really like the star-studded cast featuring Gabriel Byrne and Dianne Wiest, "In Treatment" gives an interesting insights on psychotherapies.

Adapted from a popular Israeli TV show titled Be ‘Tipul, In Treatment follows Paul Weston, a psychotherapist played by Gabriel Byrne. Each night of the week, Paul keeps regular appointments with the same patients, except for Fridays, when he goes to see Dr. Gina Toll played by Dianne Wiest. The half-hour drama involves more talking than one might expect from a real therapy. Patients stand up and wander around the room a bit, as if they were not so much of patients seeking help, but as actors reciting monologues for an audition. The dialogue does not leave a lasting impression. At times the setting where a couple people are sitting in a room talking for half an hour becomes too stagey, and potentially boring. Also the level of antagonism each patient brings to Dr.Weston not only strains the credibility of the show but also the dramatic pitch.

In attempt to add some excitement, In Treatment offers occasional spurts of in-session violence or some intense confessions. Laura, played by Melissa George, chokes up talking about how she had dreamt of Weston confessing his undying love for her and beginning their future together. The lurid confession of Laura is grating and perverted rather than being seductive to the extent that makes the viewer wiggle uncomfortably in their seats.

Going back to the issue of believability, if Weston were a real psychologist, he would be in a great danger of losing his license because he speaks in over-sentimental terms, which could be viewed as malpractice. Part of this can be blamed on the character who is truly devoted to his clients yet is depressed, egotistical and whiny. Byrne does on exceptional job at utilizing his bushy eyebrows and the droopy eyes to their best advantage, making Paul a man seeking for an answer to his failings even if he cannot quite admit it.

Oscar award winning actress, Diane Wiest, with relatively few lines, radiates the wisdom and bewilderment of a retired woman. With her easy laugh and mercilessly direct questions, she, once again, becomes a therapist and a mentor whom Weston broke with years ago. Her accent, the China-collared shirt, tranquil voice, and insightful lines like ‘there’s a sadness in your voice when you talk about Kate,’ she resembles a Buddhist monk or Mother Nature.

Even with the interesting concept and some exceptional performance by Byrne and Wiest, the inconsistent level of acting of different characters makes the show seem like an amateur theatrical experiment. Once again, the session ends, but whether it was worth the time and the money invested – by both viewers and the producers – remains questionable.

Response to Oscar Wilde

So, here comes the big question that has been long debated: What is a critic? What does a critic do? The simplest and the most straightforward answer would be a person who offers reasoned judgment or analysis, interpretation, or observation. But is he also an artist? What is criticism outside creation?

Oscar Wilde, an Irish writer with languishing attitude who often appears in cartoons wearing a ‘too-too’ skirt, takes a serious stab at what it means to be a critic in the Critic as Artist. Known for his involvement in aesthetic movement, Wilde argued that the art should provide refined sensuous pleasure, rather than convey moral or philosophical messages. According to him, the art, since it has no didactic purpose, needs only to be beautiful. In the self-righteous voice of Gilbert, Wilde, insists that art is always the result of the most self-conscious effort.

It seems fair to say that great artists worked unconsciously and that they were wiser than they knew as Emerson once said. Then are we, as critics, all looking for something that is not there? Trying to find – or give - meanings in nothing? Gilbert says that the age that has no criticism is either an age in which art is immobile, hieratic, and confined to the reproduction of formal types, or an age that possesses no art at all. If that statement were to be true, how about people taking a pre-historical artifact and consider it to be a beautiful piece of art? It seems paradoxical: by lending to other ages – such as pre historical era when there was no form of criticism, thus no art – what we think we desire for our own – beauty – we are ‘creating’ art. If art means being beautiful, and if one can find meaning in something, just about anything and everything can be called art. So is it really that the primary aim of the critic is to see the object as in itself it really is not?

If Wilde [in the voice of Gilbert] is right, how can criticism be an art? Didn’t he say that art has no purpose or meaning other than being beautiful? Having some sort of a profound meaning as it possesses no meaning at all… He starts to sound more like a philosopher than anything. Perhaps it is more correct to say that the criticism completes art, or that the criticism gives meaning to art.

Gilbert tells Ernest that criticism demands infinitely more cultivation than creation does. To know the vintage and quality of a wine one need not drink the whole cask. Ten minutes must be perfectly sufficient to say whether a book is worth anything or worth nothing, if one has the instinct form. Going with Wilde’s wine metaphor, then, a well-educated sommelier always right? Some research shows that all these sommeliers failed blind testing. Many reviews on wine are inflated. Our senses are all messed up by its label. This reminded me of a story from Afterglow where critics across the nation gave a movie raving reviews because they thought Pauline Kael did so, when in fact she hadn’t even seen the movie. Conscious aim at art is a delusion in a sense. A critic will be always showing us the work of art in some new relation to our age.

But is such work as Gilbert has talked about really criticism? It criticizes not merely the individual work of art, but Beauty in self. Why should people care? (Gilbert, at one point, asks Who cares whether Mr. Ruskin’s views on Turner are sound or not? What does it matter? But really, why do we care what anyone says if art only has personal meanings?)

When Gilbert’s long lecture on what it means to be a critic was finally over, a quote from the movie Thank You for Smoking came to my mind: “if you argue right, you are always right.” As Springfield Republican once commented on Wilde’s behavior, his conduct seems more of a bid for notoriety or a controversy than a devotion to beauty and the aesthetic.

As he began to be involved in the aesthetic movement, Oscar Wilde began wearing his hair long and began decorating his rooms with peacock feathers, lilies, sunflowers, blue china and other objets d'art. It makes me wonder what self-conscious effort Wilde had to make to justify the beauty in a peacock feather. At least, to my uncultivated eyes, a peacock feather is just a colorful bird feather.

Response to Pauline Kael

Since the 1940s, according to Renata Adler, the New York Times has reviewed almost every movie that opened in New York as it would not consider reviewing every book, exhibit, or cultural event. Movie is one of many favorite pastimes of American people and it brings up broad critical discussions. In that sense, Pauline Kael had a significant impact on the 20th Century’s culture industry.

In a delightful memento of whom often addressed as the most influential film critic of our time, Afterglow, Kael’s acerbic, yet honest insights on a variety of topics come through in an informal interview clearly and entertainingly as they did in her published reviews. Francis Davis, author and a friend of Kael, confesses how he once used Kael’s review to convince a friend to watch a movie with him. Her enthusiasm for films is highly contagious for she praised or slammed the movie with frivolous vitality. The colorful details and vivid images she presents to the readers are stimulating. However, upon deciding that she does not appreciate the movie, her bitter straight-shooting is enough to make one wonder if Kael has any sympathy for the movie director or the actors.

Pauline Kael always wrote with brutal honesty and that is what makes her stand out. She is not afraid to write as she saw things. In the times when the critics are way too concerned with having the ‘right taste,’ Kael’s confident voice is very refreshing. One may have a total opposite taste in film as Kael, yet cannot help but to feel curious what she has to say about the new film. The honesty and sincerity under all her flare allows her readers to relate – or empathize – better with her reviews.

Another great merit of hers was that she wanted to write about movies the way people really talked as they were leaving the theatre. She believed that writing in academic English in an attempt to elevate movies actually lowers them. She was a professional movie critic, and of course her reviews are a little more elaborate than simply saying ‘good, bad, or ugly.’ However, Kael’s reviews are not at all intimidating – you do not have to read the same sentence over and over again to figure out what it means.

Pauline Kael bluntly complains how we all have become a heavy-handed society that wants movies to be about the misery and alienation of our generation. However, her claim of being a fan of lighthearted lowbrow movies is jeopardized by Adler’s critic that she, in principle, likes frissons of horror; physical violence; sex scenes; and fantasies of invasion in films (and most people would agree that those are heavy and turgid topics.) Her reviews also indicate her fondness of heated up discussions and conflicts.

Although, often accused of writing more stimulating reviews than the actual film, and also of writing about everything else – including the related social issues – but the fil itself, her reviews easily provoke curiosity in any reader. Either convinced by her rave, or just to see if she’s right, or even for the sake of proving one of the most influential critics of the time wrong, Kael’s readers once again head to the box office.