Oscar Catch-Up #3: The Problem with Foreign

I always brace for the bit of intellectual judgment when someone suggests a foreign film, and my face gets a little squinted and I have to admit “yeah, I’m just don’t have the attention span to read for the next two hours.”  But it’s more than that—foreign films have always presented a problem for me.  It’s a similar problem to why I don’t jump on the 240 Shakespeare productions presented in New York each season—my mind has trouble working that way.  I am stimulated aurally and visually, which is why theatre and film work so well for me, words on a page often don’t evoke anything in my brain—I’m just too distracted by everything around me.  Not to say I don’t read—I read lots in short form, that doesn’t require so much concentration; and every now and then I’m at a place of mental zen and relaxation to pick up a book or pop in a foreign film.  This week’s Oscar catch-ups are two acclaimed Mexican films from the early aughts that had passed me by, but have been recommended time and time again.  My mental blocks with foreign film were heavily on mind whilst thinking about these.

Amores Perros (2000) Directed by Alejandro Gonzales Inarritu, Written by Guillermo Arriaga
Starring Gael Garcia Bernal, Emilio Echevarria, Goya Toldeo, Alvaro Guerrero, Vanessa Bauche, Jorge Salinas, and Marco Perez
Nominated for 1 Oscar: Best Foreign Language Film

Y Tu Mama Tambien (2002) Directed by Alfonso Cuaron, Written by Alfonso Cuaron & Carlos Cuaron
Starring Gael Garcia Bernal, Diego Luna and Ana Lopez Mercado
Nominated for 1 Oscar: Best Original Screenplay

Amores Perros reminded me about a certain level of emotional disconnect that inherently comes when you aren’t speaking the same language as the characters.  There is a mental distance that keeps you a step removed—constantly reminds you in every second that you are watching a film.  Sometimes it makes me get real bored real easily (A Prophet, The Secret in Their Eyes) and sometimes it really works for me—it makes something that could become cloyingly emotional suddenly palatable (Tsotsi, Pan’s Labyrinth).  The latter definitely worked in Amores Perros’ favor.  I could see the symbolism of the brutal relations of these humans being juxtaposed against the brutal world of dog fighting being too heavy handed in English.  In this case it just seemed ingeniously realized, shot after shot.  All of the performances here are incredibly strong, and the cinematography too.  Inarritu likes to wallow in the bleak and miserable.  In Babel, he was able to be ultimately uplifting in the doom and gloom.  In Biutiful, he made you want to put a gun in your mouth.  Here, like 21 Grams, there is no uplift, but he at least restrains from complete miserablism.

Y Tu Mama Tambien represents another trend I’ve noticed toward my reactions to foreign film—annoyance that something incredibly mediocre is being over-hyped when the exact same material wouldn’t receive a second glance as an English-language film in an American market.  Last year this was true with the psychological torture porn Dogtooth.  Y Tu Mama Tambien was critically claimed and launched Alfonso Cuaron’s career into Hollywood—it’s not much more than a buddy sex comedy that isn’t funny.  It desperately wants to be profound, but comes off as adolescent instead.  A very striking performance by Ana Lopez Mercado is its saving grace, this nomination for the screenplay is baffling as the dialogue (at least as translated—which I guess is how the Academy was nominating it) reads as uninspired and meandering.

With my mixed record this week, what foreign movie do I need to watch next?

Oscar Catch-Up #2: The King of Comedy (1983) and Lenny (1974)

I’ve been watching a whole lot of Seinfeld lately–well, even more than usually, so I decided to go for a couple stand-up comedy based movies that had been in the Netflix queue for at least a few years without ever inching to the top.  So for my second oscar-catch up pairing, we have:

The King of Comedy (1983) Directed by Martin Scorsese and Written by Paul D. Zimmermann
Starring Robert De Niro, Jerry Lewis and Sandra Bernhard
0 nominations

Lenny (1974) Directed by Bob Fosse and Written by Julian Berry
Starring Dustin Hoffman, Valerie Perrine and Jan Miner
6 nominations including Picture, Director, Actor (Hoffman), Actress (Perrine), Adapted Screenplay, Cinematography

So, I know it’s too early to be breaking rules–and I suppose The King of Comedy is not really an Oscar catch-up since it is one of Scorsese’s only non-nominated films.  However, when Scorsese won the Cecil B. DeMille Award at the Golden Globes last year, I was drawn to the clips of this movie the most.  I haven’t seen a lot of Scorsese’s famous works (Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, Goodfellas–look for those in future posts), but I haven’t really liked the ones I have seen (The Departed, The Aviator, Shutter Island).  Someone I was watching the Globes with suggested I try The King of Comedy before the more famous works–so that’s what I did.  And my Scorsese bad-luck streak was broken.

Robert De Niro has created one of his most memorable characters with Rupert Pupkin, a hopeful middle-aged stand-up comedian with delusions of grandeur.  Scorsese and writer Zimmermann weave a thrilling tale of a man both charming and insane in this incredibly uncomfortable black comedy.  Jerry Lewis plays a Johnny Carson stand-in with charismatic ease–their scenes together (especially a key moment at a Connecticut country moment) are palpably tense.  It’s disappointing that this film has taken such a back burner in Scorsese’s career (so much so that I’d never heard of it until that career retrospective reel)–even more disappointing is the lack of attention that Sandra Bernhard’s performance received.  An incredibly fearless performance from Bernhard, I can’t believe that Ms. Bernhard not only didn’t win an Oscar for this–but that it didn’t lead to a real film career.  I mean, I don’t know about range, as this performance is only full gusto crazy, but it’s pure gold from start to finish.  Her dinner table monologue to Jerry Lewis is wonderfully hysterical, pathetic, and revelatory at the same time.  Below is a quick glimpse of this manic scene.

I’m surprised I haven’t seen Lenny yet.  In addition to being the most brilliant choreographer of the musical theatre, Bob Fosse has made two of my favorite films: Cabaret and All That Jazz–which utilize incredible musical theatre performance with the sensitivity to image of a master filmmaker.  Lenny was Fosse’s third film, and first nonmusical.  This Lenny Bruce biopic is a tad askew–Fosse retains a brilliant sense of imagery throughout, but the film picks up no steam until over halfway through.  An exciting last quarter doesn’t fully make up for the putting around of the first 3/4.  Dustin Hoffman gives a wonderfully realized performance as Bruce, and Valerie Perrine and Jan Miner put in terrific supporting turns as Lenny’s wife and mother, respectively.   It’s one of those movies that didn’t really leave a strong impression at all, it happened, I saw it–and there was much to appreciate throughout.  But in a year or two, I’ll probably barely remember it.  Oh well, on to the next one…

Top 10 Curb Your Enthusiasms

Season eight came and went so quickly.  I only get a Curb season to look forward to every couple years, and then in 10 quick episodes, it passes me by.

I plan to get through the next several Sundays by watching some of my favorites, and if you are a Curb die-hard already, or looking to start the greatest comedy since Seinfeld–here’s your entry way, the 10 very best episodes.

10) Larry vs. Michael J. Fox (Season 8 )

Michael J. Fox becomes one of Larry’s funniest foes to date–the soda bottle, the shushing, the violin sign–it was just one great Larry fight after another.  Add to that, the 7-year old boy who loves Project Runway and Hitler, and you have one of Curb’s most inappropriate delights.

9) Seinfeld (Season 7)

The much-touted Seinfeld reunion didn’t disappoint, as the show about nothing had a perfect Larry David reunion about nothing—Mocha Joe’s beans, ring stains, and “more of a pamphlet then a book”–were the perfect petty plot lines to end out Curb’s reunion season.

8) Ted and Mary (Season 1)

The beginning of one of Larry’s greatest fueds–Ted Danson as an asshole egotistical version of himself.  Even funnier is his relationship with Mary Steenburgen and his mother in this episode.  There scene at lunch is a Curb classic. (I can’t find a clip from this episode, so instead–a best of montage of Larry and Ted moments)

7) The Survivor (Season 4)

Somebody get a sponge.

6) The Nanny From Hell (Season 3)

Cheri Oteri gives an amazing guest appearance here, as well as some wonderful Richard Lewis and Cheryl moments–and the circus freak child.

5) Denise Handicapped (Season 7)

Larry upped-the-ante to a new extreme in this episode where he seduces a handicapped woman, is annoyed by her, but enjoys the attention that her company brings.  His behavior is compounded by an insistence to save his Blackberry over a drowning kid, asking adoptive parents about their Chinese baby’s ‘proclivity for chopsticks’, and getting beat up by Rosie O’Donnell.

4) The Car Pool Lane (Season 4)

Larry picks up a hooker to use the car pool lane to go to the Dodgers game, tries to schmooze his way into a mourner’s baseball tickets, buys weed for his Glaucoma-stricken father, gets high and yells at himself “read a book!”  That enough, for you?

3) Beloved Aunt (Season 1)

The ultimate typo leads Larry to some of his funniest interactions with Cheryl’s family.  Too good to ruin if you haven’t seen it, this is the episode that had me hooked into Curb for life.  “So you need tape? And a scissor? And paper? Can I buy that all at one place?”

2) The Ida Funkhouser Roadside Memorial (Season 6)

The sample abuser is one of Larry’s best fights to date.  This episode has consistently great moments with Marty Funkhouser (the bad 50), Cheryl (the perfume), and Loretta (the ice cream).

1) Affirmative Action (Season 1)

Larry’s first and largest episode in offending minorities, Larry’s affability goes overboard with an uncomfortable affirmative action joke that begins a chain reaction of offending every black person he comes across.

 

What about you? What’s your favorite Curb episode from the last 8 seasons?

Oscar Catch-Up #1: Elizabeth (1998) and Working Girl (1988)

Those who have been around me between the months of November and February know the annual obsession with watching all my Oscar nominated films.  I’ve been doing it since I was a freshman in high school, and despite it seeming more obsessive compulsive than a fun pastime, it’s both.  I’ve seen a lot of great films that I wouldn’t have thought to see otherwise (Inception, The Wrestler, Little Children), and I’ve seen a lot of crap that has made me more appreciative of good filmmaking and further defines my aesthetic (Black Swan, Crash, Juno).

But it’s been hard for me to catch up with all the things I didn’t see  pre-2002, back when Good Burger and Sister Act were my Best Picture choices (well, they might still be, actually…shh).  So thanks to the genius of Netflix I’ve been playing a lot of catch up over the last year, and well, it’ll take several more years to go.  The beauty of an Oscar season is being able to see everything in such a short span, and really getting a good comparison while its fresh in your mind–and then you get to discuss them with your friends who also just saw them.  The problem with playing catch up is remembering everything, and not letting it all just blur together.  So, I decided I should start writing about what I’m watching–and see what my friends think about them too.

Our first entry is catching us up on two films about a couple of tough-as-nails workin’ gals:

Elizabeth (1998) Directed by Shekhar Kapur and Written by Michael Hirst
Starring Cate Blanchett, Geoffrey Rush, Christopher Eccleston, Joseph Fiennes and Richard Attenborough
6 nominations including Picture, Actress (Blanchett), Art Direction, Cinematography, Costume Design, Dramatic Score, Makeup (winner)

Working Girl (1988) Directed by Mike Nichols and Written by Kevin Wade
Starring Melanie Griffith, Harrison Ford, Sigourney Weaver, Joan Cusack, Alec Baldwin and Kevin Spacey
6 nominations including Picture, Director, Actress (Griffith), Supporting Actress (x2- Weaver and Cusack), Original Song (winner–Carly Simon “Let the River Run)

The pickin’s must have been slim both of these years–as I hate to start out on such a negative note, but both these films are complete duds.

Elizabeth is an absolute snooze.  I have never been a huge fan of the English costume drama, with a few exceptions.  This takes all the worst things about the genre and amplifies them–snail’s pacing, overwrought dialogue, romances that aren’t developed, hammy supporting characters (including a very odd early performance from Daniel Craig), and big group scenes that serve no function other than the show off the costume designer for 10 minutes.  It was all I could do to not fall asleep–and I wasn’t in the least bit tired when I watched it.  I have loved Cate Blanchett for a while now, but this performance is the worst I’ve seen her give (she gave a far better performance in the equally bad sequel Elizabeth: The Golden Age)–at times hysteric, at times like she had swallowed a wee fistful of Valium before showing up on set, her inconsistency here is bizarrely unlike her.  She must be one of the fine wine actresses who just keeps getting better with age.  I guess I could understand the Makeup win though I would have given it to Saving Private Ryan.  Of the 4 Best Picture nominees I’ve seen from ’98 this is by far my least favorite, behind The Thin Red Line, Saving Private Ryan, and Shakespeare in Love (I’ve yet to see Life is Beautiful). It’s a shame this squeezed out far better pictures snubbed like American History X and The Truman Show.

Working Girl was something I was looking forward to quite a bit.  Mike Nichols is a favorite director of mine, and I saw 9 to 5: The Musical 3 times (don’t tell anyone that), it seemed natural.  I wasn’t familiar with Melanie Griffith as anything other than a perennial Razzie nominee.  The fact that she was ever an in-commodity movie star is a mystery far more interesting than the film.  It has a lot going for it–a timely premise, a clever script, and the always charming Harrison Ford.  But it’s all about Melanie Griffith’s Tess McGill–and she is absolutely sedate and aloof, not at all the firecracker that the script makes her out to be.  She ruins the whole movie.  The imdb trivia lists a long line of more talented actresses in talks for the role at one point–Whoopi Goldberg, Michelle Pfieffer, Carrie Fisher, Kathleen Turner, Cher, Goldie Hawn, and Catherine O’Hara–it’s an absolute shame that one of them didn’t end up with the role, I probably could have loved it.  Sigourney Weaver is fine.  Joan Cusack’s nomination is outright puzzling, she doesn’t really do anything, and even that isn’t done particularly memorably.  The movie’s only win–and my personal favorite part is the soulful 80′s-tastic song “Let The River Run” by Carly Simon.

Let’s hope I have better luck next time.