![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cjlasky71. Stalker (dir. by Andrei Tarkovsky)
"Stalker" is one of those movies with such a devoted cult base, such an intriguing concept and troubled shooting history, that you have to see it once, just to see what the fuss is about. (It's kind of the "Apocalypse Now" of Soviet cinema.) I'm pleased to say that it confounded all of my expectations.
The basic plot: in an unnamed country, a guide (or "stalker") agrees to take a writer and a professor on an expedition into a deserted "forbidden zone" where there's (supposedly) a Room in the center of the zone that grants your deepest wish.
Now, from that science-fiction-y summary, you'd think this forbidden zone would be filled with weird creatures or bizarre space-time anomalies to stop potential visitors from reaching the Room. But none of that happens. In fact, nothing overtly supernatural or paranormal happens in this long, long movie until the last 45 seconds (and even that could be seen as an unnecessary flourish to a point that Tarkovsky had made a moment earlier).
However, once you settle into Tarkovsky's rhythm of extended takes surveying the hushed landscape of an abandoned civilization overtaken by nature, you realize that the movie is deconstructing the plot as the trio works its way through the zone. The stalker and his charges debate the nature of the zone (is the danger even real?), their motivations for the journey (whether doing it for "art" or "science" has any meaning) and even debating whether their goal is worth reaching. (Do you know what your "deepest desire" truly is? Do you even want to know?)
So, in the end, is the movie about:
a) the loss of faith in the modern world?
b) the futility of man's endeavors in the face of forces (external and internal) beyond his control?
c) Tarkovsky's struggles as an artist in a repressive society?
I have no idea. The movie supports all of these and none of these, which is what makes it fascinating and frustrating. I'd like to see it again, maybe on an IMAX screen, where you can just fall into the phenomenal cinematography. But I don't know when I would have a week of free time...
2. Spider-Man: Homecoming (dir. by Jon Watts)
[Before I say anything else here: RIP, Steve Ditko. Co-creator and artist for Spidey and Doctor Strange, Ditko was one of the main architects of the Marvel universe, and his surreal other-dimensional vistas on Doc literally transformed how I see art and the world.]
For the most part, a lot of fun. Watts and his screenwriters put a lot of effort into reestablishing Peter as your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, emphasis on "neighborhood." The shots of Peter knocking around Queens, picking up a sandwich at his local deli, and dealing with the wacky, everyday citizens of outer borough New York City make him relatable in a way the big shots in the Avengers just can't be. Tom Holland nails the combination of angst-ridden teen and plucky-but-green superhero (with a ready quip) that Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield never quite mastered. Peter's video diary of his trip to Berlin in "Captain America: Civil War" is adorable.
It doesn't hurt the movie that the villain, Michael Keaton's Adrian Toomes (aka The Vulture) is the best iteration of the character EVER--comics, cartoons, video games, everything. He's got a scrappy, middle class background, genius-level mechanical aptitude, his own code of honor and a willingness to do anything for his family. He'd be the hero in some movies, if he didn't insist on killing anyone who would expose his operation. I just wish they'd kept the focus on him and Peter instead of running through potential members of Spidey's rogues gallery. (For the record: along with the Vulture, we get the Shocker, the Tinkerer, the Prowler and the Scorpion. Just add Doc Ock and the Sinister Six is ready to go.)
My main complaint, though, is the typical Marvel movie third act blues. The big set piece is Tom Holland screaming on the soundtrack while a CGI Spidey clings to a CGI jet airplane against a CGI skyline. I kinda zoned out for awhile. The scene's got dramatic music up the wazoo, but it's not one-tenth as dramatic as Peter picking up his prom date and finding out the movie's supervillain is her father.
Overall, a terrific "welcome to the MCU" for Marvel's most popular hero. (The father/son dynamic between Peter and Tony Stark will pay off big in Infinity War.)
3. Tommy (dir. by Ken Russell)
Even though I'm a devoted fan of all pop culture designated "Who" (rock band, Gallifreyan Doctor, Seussian creatures), "Tommy" is not my favorite rock opera. The original is a fusion of a depressingly sordid kitchen sink drama about a young boy abused by his parents and relatives and (after Tommy's awakening) a zippy satire on fame and how even the most well-meaning spiritual guide can lose the message through commercialization and corruption. The link between the two is supposed to be Tommy's interior, spiritual journey--but I don't think Townshend quite pulls it off. It comes through in "Amazing Journey" and the instrumentals(!), but not so much elsewhere. What makes the piece work as well as it does is the unifying force of the Who as a band, with Roger Daltrey out front the whole way.
The movie presents the life of Tommy in chronological order (starting with his parents' courtship)--and that, unfortunately, sidelines Daltrey for most of the run time. When Tommy smashes the mirror and regains his senses, the movie soars on Daltrey's vocal power and charisma; but before that, we basically have a musical starring Ann Margaret and Oliver Reed with the rest of the Who hanging out in the orchestra pit. Not exactly what I signed up for.
Of course, since this is a Ken Russell movie, it's not going to be dull. Russell recontextualizes Townshend's original concept as a jeremiad against the degraded values of post WWII England, and he stuffs every frame with garish examples of capitalist excess. (Tommy literally climbs over the discarded symbols of middle class status to reach his first pinball machine. Subtle.)
Whether Russell's philosophy of "too much is never enough" works is a matter of personal taste. For me, a lot of his imagery/symbolism is so sledgehammer obvious that it detracts from the message. Some of the performers here actually thrive in kitsch; Elton John was the king of theatrical excess in the 70s, and his version of "Pinball Wizard" is like a Saturday morning cartoon come to life. Tina Turner, OTOH, doesn't come off well at all.
It's an interesting curio, a fascinating near-miss, but not a real improvement on the original. All in all, I'd rather be listening to Quadrophenia.
Bonus review:
Justice League (dir. by Zack Snyder and/or Joss Whedon)
Meh.
"Stalker" is one of those movies with such a devoted cult base, such an intriguing concept and troubled shooting history, that you have to see it once, just to see what the fuss is about. (It's kind of the "Apocalypse Now" of Soviet cinema.) I'm pleased to say that it confounded all of my expectations.
The basic plot: in an unnamed country, a guide (or "stalker") agrees to take a writer and a professor on an expedition into a deserted "forbidden zone" where there's (supposedly) a Room in the center of the zone that grants your deepest wish.
Now, from that science-fiction-y summary, you'd think this forbidden zone would be filled with weird creatures or bizarre space-time anomalies to stop potential visitors from reaching the Room. But none of that happens. In fact, nothing overtly supernatural or paranormal happens in this long, long movie until the last 45 seconds (and even that could be seen as an unnecessary flourish to a point that Tarkovsky had made a moment earlier).
However, once you settle into Tarkovsky's rhythm of extended takes surveying the hushed landscape of an abandoned civilization overtaken by nature, you realize that the movie is deconstructing the plot as the trio works its way through the zone. The stalker and his charges debate the nature of the zone (is the danger even real?), their motivations for the journey (whether doing it for "art" or "science" has any meaning) and even debating whether their goal is worth reaching. (Do you know what your "deepest desire" truly is? Do you even want to know?)
So, in the end, is the movie about:
a) the loss of faith in the modern world?
b) the futility of man's endeavors in the face of forces (external and internal) beyond his control?
c) Tarkovsky's struggles as an artist in a repressive society?
I have no idea. The movie supports all of these and none of these, which is what makes it fascinating and frustrating. I'd like to see it again, maybe on an IMAX screen, where you can just fall into the phenomenal cinematography. But I don't know when I would have a week of free time...
2. Spider-Man: Homecoming (dir. by Jon Watts)
[Before I say anything else here: RIP, Steve Ditko. Co-creator and artist for Spidey and Doctor Strange, Ditko was one of the main architects of the Marvel universe, and his surreal other-dimensional vistas on Doc literally transformed how I see art and the world.]
For the most part, a lot of fun. Watts and his screenwriters put a lot of effort into reestablishing Peter as your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, emphasis on "neighborhood." The shots of Peter knocking around Queens, picking up a sandwich at his local deli, and dealing with the wacky, everyday citizens of outer borough New York City make him relatable in a way the big shots in the Avengers just can't be. Tom Holland nails the combination of angst-ridden teen and plucky-but-green superhero (with a ready quip) that Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield never quite mastered. Peter's video diary of his trip to Berlin in "Captain America: Civil War" is adorable.
It doesn't hurt the movie that the villain, Michael Keaton's Adrian Toomes (aka The Vulture) is the best iteration of the character EVER--comics, cartoons, video games, everything. He's got a scrappy, middle class background, genius-level mechanical aptitude, his own code of honor and a willingness to do anything for his family. He'd be the hero in some movies, if he didn't insist on killing anyone who would expose his operation. I just wish they'd kept the focus on him and Peter instead of running through potential members of Spidey's rogues gallery. (For the record: along with the Vulture, we get the Shocker, the Tinkerer, the Prowler and the Scorpion. Just add Doc Ock and the Sinister Six is ready to go.)
My main complaint, though, is the typical Marvel movie third act blues. The big set piece is Tom Holland screaming on the soundtrack while a CGI Spidey clings to a CGI jet airplane against a CGI skyline. I kinda zoned out for awhile. The scene's got dramatic music up the wazoo, but it's not one-tenth as dramatic as Peter picking up his prom date and finding out the movie's supervillain is her father.
Overall, a terrific "welcome to the MCU" for Marvel's most popular hero. (The father/son dynamic between Peter and Tony Stark will pay off big in Infinity War.)
3. Tommy (dir. by Ken Russell)
Even though I'm a devoted fan of all pop culture designated "Who" (rock band, Gallifreyan Doctor, Seussian creatures), "Tommy" is not my favorite rock opera. The original is a fusion of a depressingly sordid kitchen sink drama about a young boy abused by his parents and relatives and (after Tommy's awakening) a zippy satire on fame and how even the most well-meaning spiritual guide can lose the message through commercialization and corruption. The link between the two is supposed to be Tommy's interior, spiritual journey--but I don't think Townshend quite pulls it off. It comes through in "Amazing Journey" and the instrumentals(!), but not so much elsewhere. What makes the piece work as well as it does is the unifying force of the Who as a band, with Roger Daltrey out front the whole way.
The movie presents the life of Tommy in chronological order (starting with his parents' courtship)--and that, unfortunately, sidelines Daltrey for most of the run time. When Tommy smashes the mirror and regains his senses, the movie soars on Daltrey's vocal power and charisma; but before that, we basically have a musical starring Ann Margaret and Oliver Reed with the rest of the Who hanging out in the orchestra pit. Not exactly what I signed up for.
Of course, since this is a Ken Russell movie, it's not going to be dull. Russell recontextualizes Townshend's original concept as a jeremiad against the degraded values of post WWII England, and he stuffs every frame with garish examples of capitalist excess. (Tommy literally climbs over the discarded symbols of middle class status to reach his first pinball machine. Subtle.)
Whether Russell's philosophy of "too much is never enough" works is a matter of personal taste. For me, a lot of his imagery/symbolism is so sledgehammer obvious that it detracts from the message. Some of the performers here actually thrive in kitsch; Elton John was the king of theatrical excess in the 70s, and his version of "Pinball Wizard" is like a Saturday morning cartoon come to life. Tina Turner, OTOH, doesn't come off well at all.
It's an interesting curio, a fascinating near-miss, but not a real improvement on the original. All in all, I'd rather be listening to Quadrophenia.
Bonus review:
Justice League (dir. by Zack Snyder and/or Joss Whedon)
Meh.
