Summer Films

The Cube
The most claustrophobic film I have ever seen. This film makes a lot out of very little. Most of the movie essentially takes place inside one set—a "cube" (colored differently to represent different rooms, but still just one cube). The film's intrigue comes primarily from the characters, their interactions and their struggles inside this cube. The film is disturbing but not terrifying—not a hallmark of horror, but iconic nonetheless. The film's central mystery—who built the cube and put people inside it—remain's wisely unanswered. Average acting thankfully does not significantly mar the movie, which is more cerebral than emotional.



Toy Story 3
This film does justice to the first two Toy Story installments and provides a perfect conclusion to the trilogy. Pixar's typical emphasis on story integrity and enjoyable characters pays off. While the film starts slowly, by the middle it has hit its stride and set up a fantastic prison escape sequence. The landfill sequence is one of Pixar's most epic scenes, and one which most of today's summer blockbusters can only dream of staging. The very last scene of the film is one of Pixar's most emotional and poignant, as the toys who have so desperately desired to be played with become a part of Andy's imagination once more, after which Andy finally says a bittersweet goodbye to his toys, handing them off to another generation and then driving away into adulthood.



Alien
A visually beautiful experience, like all of Ridley Scott's films. The alien planet, the biology of the creature, the interiors of the central spaceship, all were designed with a sublime dark beauty. The film feels like a modern Gothic nightmare—the empty vaults of the spaceship with their high ceilings feel cathedral-like, serving as the perfect killing ground for an inhuman horror. The film's frights are primarily of a biological kind. Most of us harbor a fear of insects and certain sea creatures which bear little resemblance to our physiology. This film uses that fear and amplifies it with a sustained tension. The best part of the film for me was the haunting scene in the alien spaceship at the beginning, where the protagonists come across a long lost alien civilization. The mystery of who these dead aliens were is never answered, but it stirs our imaginations. My mind still likes to dwell on that scene and wonder.



Aliens
This sequel was disappointing because it dropped the element that made the first film successful—the Gothic nightmare. Instead, this film is an action adventure. While the aliens certainly make good monsters, they are reduced to the kind of adversaries you might face in a video game, with the queen at the end serving as a kind of "boss". The film has little interest when the plot is essentially reduced to a "shoot 'em up" scenario.



The Shining
This was my second time watching this film, and seeing it with someone who had never seen it made it much more fun. The film contains several scenes which sustain a high note of tension for such an incredible length that I can call them nothing other than masterful. Director Stanley Kubrick's typical impenetrability serves the Stephen King story very well, as Kubrick resists over-explanation that would have dulled the effect of horror. Transitions between "reality" and the madness within Jack's mind are elegant and moments of terror are staged brilliantly, accompanied by one of the most frightening scores and some of the most terrifying sound effects I have ever heard.



Inception
This film dealt with a subject I have been fascinated with my entire life—dreams. The film deals concretely with the subject, structuring its dreams with hard and fast rules. This serves the film, which is essentially an action movie, extremely well. The well-crafted internal logic of the plot makes the film feel less about dreams themselves and more about the heist (which the dreams are simply the setting for). But what a setting they are. The dreams allow a completely unique type of storytelling which is multi-layered. Instead of disoriented chronology told through flashbacks or flashforwards, we get scenes happening at different levels of consciousness. Dreams seem to be the only way to achieve this type of narrative. Visually, the film contains many sights to be savored. A fight scene in shifting gravity is the highlight, and rivals any fight scene in the Matrix. The film's central theme, what is real and what is not (or even more interestingly—why is it real or why is it not?) has been explored before, but Inception's elegant cut before the top topples makes us ponder the question once more. This film delighted and impressed more than any other film this summer and is certainly one I will add to my all-time favorites list.

LOST: A Retrospective

A look back at what I consider to be the show's top 10 episodes. It was quite a challenge to pick just 10 out of 120, but I think this list reflects the very best that LOST offered.


Pilot (Season 1)
It opens with Jack's eye snapping open and witnessing the aftermath of a plane crash. This opening scene itself was revolutionary, and it was followed by a series of fascinating character introductions and captivating sequences. The episode that first defined LOST remains one of the show's greatest achievements.


Walkabout (Season 1)
This episode is consistently cited as one of the series' best, and with good reason. It is mythical, it is emotional, it is captivating. We learn some of Locke's backstory, but most importantly we learn that Locke was a cripple and now he walks. To me, it's really the first moment when we realize this island is truly a special place.


White Rabbit (Season 1)
The episode immediately following Walkabout, it really conveys what the series is all about. Jack's search for his father and eventual discovery of the caves is poignant. Locke's conversation with Jack about faith and reason is perfect. The mystical and the emotional aspects of the show come together perfectly in this episode.


Live Together, Die Alone (Season 2)
I find this to be one of the best of the season finales. It feels so cohesive and complete. Desmond's story is explored, with the tremendous flashback story. The on-island events are equally as momentous as the push-or-don't-push-the-button dilemma finally comes to a head. And the final moment of Penny answering the phone is beautiful.


Flashes Before Your Eyes (Season 3)
A large part of why I love this episode is that it seemingly came out of nowhere. It introduced the concept of time travel in an elegant and memorable way and continued the emotional thread that had been part of Desmond's stories. The introduction of the Ms. Hawking character was a great moment, and the hints and clues given along the way that reminded us of the island were perfect.


The Brig (Season 3)
Everything in this episode is absolutely perfect. Both Locke's and Sawyer's stories come to emotional high-points as they confront the one man who ruined both of their lives. The intense emotion in the scene between the two Sawyers is incredible and the on-island Locke flashback is very telling. This is a high point of LOST.


Through the Looking Glass (Season 3)
The highly-anticipated season three finale managed to maintain a sense of tension and movement throughout. There were a few interesting revelations, but the episode's strength lay in the sense of our castaways working towards and accomplishing their goal of contacting the freighter folk, thus earning their ticket off the island. Charlie's death was an emotional moment, but the final reveal that Jack and Kate make it off the island is what really makes the episode stand out. Overall, the episode is consistently engaging, not to mention that it is perhaps the largest turning point in the entire series.


The Constant (Season 4)
The thematic continuation of Flashes Before Your Eyes, the best episode of season four was one of LOST's most emotional tales. Here, the time travel element is used with even more elegance that in Flashes Before Your Eyes, brilliantly weaving together past and present. The telephone conversation between Desmond and Penny at the end was brilliant. It's interesting to note that this episode doesn't have a shocking ending, but still stands out as many people's favorite, testifying to the overall strength of the episode as a whole.


There's No Place Like Home (Season 4)
This intense, action-packed and very satisfying finale followed the survivors of Oceanic 815 as they attempted (and some succeeded) to finally escape the island. The action in the episode was wonderfully staged, the characters all reached meaningful season resolutions, and deep in the island underworld, central mysteries were explored. This finale was above all else tragic, but in its tragedy was its greatness.


The End (Season 6)
Against all odds, LOST managed to conclude with the same quality that it began. A perfect mirror to the pilot, Jack's eye closes and a plane leaves the island. Characters reach their final resolutions and the most important story threads are drawn together and completed. We are left with enduring mysteries and an unflinching optimism.

The Beauty of an End

"I reached into your book and... there's so many things I need to ask you…. I can only hope that the answers will come to me in my sleep. I hope that when the world comes to an end, I can breathe a sigh of relief because there will be so much to look forward to." - Donnie Darko

TV finales have always tended to disappoint me. Something about the medium makes it seemingly impossible for a final episode to satisfactorily conclude all the hours that have come before, and instead the last episode usually ends up weakening what preceded it. Battlestar Galactica was a brilliant show with a disappointing finale that tainted the series. So when I sat down to watch the LOST finale, the final episode of a show I had been invested in for six years, I prepared myself to be disappointed. How in the world could any ending satisfy?



I was so pleased that LOST managed to surprise me with a finale that moved and satisfied and was, in fact, one of the series' best episodes. While I was watching the episode and shortly after it was over, I didn't quite know what to make of it. The twist at the end was too large for me to process at first. But as I had time to think about it over the next several days, I came to realize how much I loved the finale and how it was, simply, beautiful. I was reminded of the endings of other great fantasy stories, like the Lord of the Rings, or the Chronicles of Narnia. It was surprising to me at first how unashamedly optimistic LOST was at its end, but on second thought, LOST has always been hopeful at its core. It wasn't a departure in tone, as the Battlestar finale was.



Many of LOST's greatest joys have been in its images and the way it uses these images to speak about larger and grander things. This finale recalled the show's most important images and elevated them to new levels of meaning, so much so that I found them profound. The image of Jack opening his father's casket to find it empty (from the fifth episode of the series) has stuck with me throughout the course of narrative. In the last ten minutes of the finale, Jack once again confronts his father's coffin. The obvious expectation was that Jack would finally see his father dead in the coffin and would be able to deal with his passing. However, he opens the coffin and finds it empty once again. His father stands behind him and soon they embrace, the final redemption of the father-son relationship that has defined the show. This was a perfect resolution to the characters and to the image and was deeply moving on an emotional and even spiritual level. The image of Jack's eye opening and a plane crashing began the series and the image of a plane taking off and Jack's eye closing ended it—perfect visual bookends. It is said that the beginning of every story should have the seed of its end. What a perfect adherence to this rule LOST had.



If I had one complaint about the end, it is that there were one or two lines of unneeded explanatory dialogue. A less spelled-out ending in the afterlife at the risk of audience confusion could have been worth it. But I was glad that the "sideways universe" turned out not to be an alternate reality. I never bought into the alternate universe idea and the reveal at the end helps redeem that part of the last season for me. Of course, what I think most people will complain about the finale is the apparent lack of explanation about the island. But more explanation about the island and its properties would not have been fitting. The essential mystery of LOST remains intact as it should be. Again, an image sums up everything perfectly. As Jack lies in the pool of light at the heart of the island and watches as the water begins to flow again, he starts laughing. Certainly he is rejoicing that he has finally fulfilled his purpose and finally, truly "fixed" something, but I took this image to also be a celebration of the mysteries of the island. For six years, our imaginations have feasted on the wonders of the island and at the end, the best response is simple joy.



I am not surprised by the initial critical reaction to the end of the show. Complaints over lack of explanation are, I believe, representative of the modern approach to storytelling. A story must, to some extent (according to the modern), be an exercise in logic. We mistakenly believe the foundation of the world is reason, and our stories must reflect that. Would the premodern have had a problem with the sustained mysteries of the LOST story, or would he have accepted and embraced them? Or even better, would we as children, had we read the LOST story, have objected to the unknowns?



Certainly I am not saying that LOST can care nothing for internal consistency and remain successful. The story must have internal coherence, and this is perhaps one of the series' weak points. In its last years, LOST began to bend a bit under the weight of its enormously complex mythology, and apparent "plot holes" and inconsistencies grew more numerous. Yet while some of these lapses in coherence are problematic, I think most of them are probably misreadings of the story, resulting from a wrong approach or a simple lack of imagination. I think the series as a whole holds up remarkably well and while it isn't perfect (need I cite the premature death of Mr. Eko or the Nikki and Paolo arc?), its very imperfections are a part of what the show is. The show certainly has its share of dangling plot threads, but doesn't that provide more for us to think about and puzzle over upon revisiting the story? It seems clear that LOST was partially planned out and partially improvised and I believe this combination is a large part of what made the series so vibrant.

Overall, as far as its broad strokes, I cannot think of a more perfect ending to LOST and, until I watch The Sopranos or The Wire, it is the best television finale I have seen. There are very few films or television shows that have so entranced, excited and moved me as LOST has. It is a story that has shaped the way I think about storytelling and I am happy to make it one of those few "stories for a lifetime" that I will always hold with me.

March Movies

Two animated films, two live-action, all vastly different. A few thoughts on the four movies I saw in March.



Kiki's Delivery Service
This was my least favorite of Miyazaki's movies, but considering the overall quality of any of Miyazaki's work, it was still enjoyable. I felt there were two things missing from the film—one was Miyazaki's typical environmental themes. One can feel Miyazaki's passion for nature and concern for exploring the relationship between nature and man in films like Nausicaa or Princess Mononoke. Another thing I felt was missing was strong emotion. I did not feel especially attached to the heroine of the film and there were few parts of the film that engaged my emotions. Both of these missing elements made me feel an absence of Miyazaki's personal passion for and investment in this film.



Porco Rosso
While better than Kiki's Delivery Service, Porco Rosso falls short of Miyazaki's other work. I was more fond of the hero in this story and appreciated a greater sophistication in the story's themes and in the way the story unfolded. The plane-to-plane fights were also well executed by the master of animated flight. However, the film failed to grab me in the way that Miyazaki's others movies have. That being said, there was one scene in the film that belongs among the very best Miyazaki scenes. The main character remembers one air battle when he got lost among the clouds and saw the ghosts of his fellow fighters and their planes rise up and disappear into the heavens. This scene is remarkably beautiful and rivals even the most mystical moments in Mononoke.



Blues Brothers
I had heard from many sources that this film was non-stop fun and I wholeheartedly agree. The film was hilarious, well-staged and had great music, with cameo performances from the likes of Aretha Franklin and Ray Charles. The scene in the church at the beginning of the film was probably my favorite, but also classic was the hilariously excessive car chase at the end. Was this film prophetic? Don't we see this kind of excess in today's blockbusters?



Rear Window
This was my fourth Hitchcock film. I had been entranced by Psycho and Vertigo but The Birds had been a disappointment. Rear Window did not disappoint. It was utterly engaging from the moment it started. James Stewart carries the film exquisitely as usual and Hitchcock expertly builds suspense. Hitchcock's technique is one that uses silence and darkness to create the mood and tension, rather than the flashier, noisier methods of many of today's suspense films. It's interesting comparing this film with its loose modern remake Disturbia. Hitchcock is much more sophisticated, restrained and, ultimately, interesting.

February Movies

In February, I watched three comedies in a row, followed by two violent and depressing films. It was a strange contrast. Here are some muddled thoughts about the five films.



Young Frankenstein
This comedy had several genuinely funny moments, some classic characters, and was overall an enjoyable experience. Having said that, I do not think the film holds up today as a truly successful comedy film. The pace is too slow, there is too much buildup with too little payoff, too many awkward silences, strange gags that don't work, etc. The quirkiness of the film is endearing but it simply doesn't deliver enough substantive comedy to be called "great". Most of the film's comedy comes from short gags that provoke chuckles but little else, and I finished the film feeling a bit empty, having expected more.



Dr. Strangelove
This black comedy was a mixture of brilliant humor and sharp intelligence. Its scathing parody of the nuclear scare during the Cold War was hilarious and significant, in a way that only the greatest parodies are. Peter Sellers was used to great effect as three separate characters, each wonderfully realized. I have only seen three of Stanley Kubrick's films, but each clearly presents the vision of a deep thinker. Dr. Strangelove embodies what Kubrick's films truly are—fundamentally intellectual exercises.



The Producers
This film was directed by Mel Brooks, who also directed Young Frankenstein. I think this is a superior movie. The premise is funnier, the execution better, and the odd pacing gone. The musical itself, which is the focus of the movie, is absolutely hilarious, especially its opening number. I will never forget the lyrics "Springtime for Hitler and Germany…Winter for Poland and France."



Saving Private Ryan
Changing pace from the comedies, Steven Spielberg's war movie is a masterpiece. The Spielbergian sentimentality is still there, but so is an unflinching realism and deathly bleakness. War is presented in all its horror and senselessness, yet the American soldiers are still heroes. We understand them as honorable warriors, even as we are compelled to dismiss all war as evil. The film is beautifully paced, photographed and acted—an all around marvelous piece of work.



Blood Diamond
Blood Diamond may exceed even Saving Private Ryan in its bleakness. Its portrayal of the Civil War in Sierra Leone is perhaps more affecting because it is more recent and because similar problems in other African countries exist today. While not on the same level as Saving Private Ryan, Blood Diamond never fails to intrigue. It introduces a brutal world and fully realizes characters within that world. I found that the plot itself was secondary. It was the characters that I met and the world I was introduced to that were unforgettable.

LOST Season 6 Premiere

Some thoughts on the premiere of LOST's sixth and final season...



LOST is a show that thrives on the subversion of its audience's expectations. At the conclusion of the last season, a question was posed—what would be the result of our main characters detonating a hydrogen bomb in the past? Would the very possibility of the bomb exploding be negated, since it didn't happen in the original timeline, or would the bomb go off, testimony to the power of the human will, and change the futures of these characters? LOST fans have been pondering this question for eight months but few expected the answer we were given in the season six premiere. Both possibilities were made reality—Jack's plan to detonate the bomb both succeeded and failed.

This kind of narrative subversion is one of the reasons that LOST is such a fascinating show for so many. It always remains one step ahead of the audience. We as viewers are never sure what this story really is. We are not exactly sure what the stakes are, or what the scale is. Even into its final season, we are in the dark. While this may be maddening for some, I think it is the key to the show. LOST is, and always has been, utterly unpredictable, because the very foundations of the narrative are constantly changing. We have no firm foundation upon which we can make predictions. The constant shifts in narrative technique, the continual refocusing of the narrative "lens", the thematic ambiguity of the show—all of these are, for me, just as much a part of what LOST is as are the story and characters themselves. LOST is an experiment in storytelling—storytelling itself is ultimately what the show is about.



The season six premiere continued LOST's tradition of challenging our notions of storytelling and did so in what I felt was a satisfactory way. Of course in doing so, it pulled back the narrative lens further to reveal even more questions than were already on the table. For many, this near doubling of mysteries in the final season is disconcerting. My hope is that as we near the end, the fractured threads of the LOST narrative will begin to come together and the many mysteries that are a part of it will come into focus as one central mystery, not a hundred disparate ones. This central mystery is something that I hope will not be explained away tritely. In fact, I don't think it should be explained at all. Mystery is what LOST is. Leaving a large part of that mystery intact will ultimately be the best choice. That being said, LOST needs to gather its various threads and establish enough narrative coherence that it holds together. By coherence, I don't mean some kind of propositional logic that is forced onto the story from the outside. Rather, I mean a kind of internal story logic that binds the narrative together. This is what LOST has managed to maintain thus far and it is what I am looking for in the final season.

Philosophical musings aside, I thought the premiere was an exceptional piece of entertainment and by far the best premiere the show has had since the pilot episode. I can only hope that this is the shape of things to come.

The End of an Epic

I just finished watching the finale of Battlestar Galactica for a second time and wanted to post a few thoughts on it. First things first, Battlestar is without a doubt one of the finest science fiction series of all time. The approach that Battlestar took was that of the first science fiction novels, in which the fiction was not the subject, but merely a tool for revealing and confronting issues of the real world we live in. Battlestar confronted the issues of our day with brutal honesty and I loved it for this. Real moral dilemmas were presented, ones that had no clear right or wrong side, and that we as viewers weren't sure how to mentally deal with. While I was interested by Battlestar's exploration of artificial intelligence and the nature of persons, it was always the political conflicts between humans that interested me the most. Battlestar even explored the supernatural in several episodes, but the religious themes in the show were primarily used to examine Colonial society and religion's relationship to characters' decision-making. While the question of the existence of a supernatural was certainly posed, it was never a question that I was interested in having answered within the context of the Battlestar narrative. Much more interesting to me were the ways in which real people dealt with the consequences of their respective belief or unbelief in the supernatural.

So, we come to the finale, which I have mixed feelings about (and probably always will). On the one hand, I enjoyed the well-staged final battle, some of the flashbacks, and the ways in which each character arc was resolved. I felt that the characters came full circle and were left in a very natural, logical and fulfilling place by the end. I was not pleased, however, with how the finale dealt with the supernatural. Three things in particular were troublesome:

1. The "deus ex machina" nature of the ending—the fact that the narrative relied heavily on the supernatural. For most of the show, the progression of the narrative had been motivated and carried out by the characters in the story. The finale introduced the supernatural as an actual agent (not merely a vague, grand "mover of events"). To me this was ultimately unsatisfying. I particularly disliked the fact that humans were discovered to have evolved separately on earth. Something of this utter improbability can only be explained through use of the supernatural.

2. The way in which the supernatural was talked about—Baltar's categorization of the supernatural as a "force of nature", "beyond good and evil" was a disappointing portion of the episode with shaky theological grounding. Nearly all of Head Six and Head Baltar's conversation at the end of the episode was far too explicit and hokey.

3. The fact that the Battlestar "universe" and our own were connected so closely. Showing modern Times Square, New York City, was a mistake. It took me out of the immersive world of Battlestar in a way that almost broke the "fourth wall". I felt like the last three minutes simply did not belong in a Galactica episode. Aesthetically, it was jarring, especially the last video montage of robotic advancements, put to a modern rendition of "All Along the Watchtower". The connection between the two "worlds" was also troublesome because of the sheer improbability that our modern civilization would be so close in all almost every aspect to Colonial civilization. We have the same clothes, cars, weapons, etc. down to the smallest details. Sure, this fits with the theme of show "all this has happened before, all this will happen again" but it implies some sort of mystical set of Platonic forms built into our DNA that tell us what a car should look like, etc. This kind of mysticism is not in keeping with what the show has been. The "all this has happened before" statement had been a sobering view of the cyclical nature of human history and our repeated engagement in war, not some weird mystical mantra. I feel that if the connection between the Battlestar world and our own had not been made so explicit, then the similarities between the two worlds could simply have been "visual analogies".

The way in which the finale used the supernatural was disappointing and, as all finales have the possibility of doing, it marred the show. The brilliance of the show overall, however, gives me confidence that the mistakes of the finale will not be enough to significantly affect the show's legacy, or disturb its place as one of the finest shows in television history.