Films I Watched - October, 2003
Submitted by lbangs on Thu, 10/02/2003 - 09:51
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- 10/31 - Cronos - Cronos’ major strength is that it doesn’t fit neatly into too many clichés of its genre. As a result, the film is electrifying, dangling the viewer over the abyss of the unknown and twisting throughout with radical mood shifts and odd plot twists. This ain’t your typical vampire film, to be sure. While Cronos is a thrill to watch, it is hurt somewhat by the fact that at the end of it all, the results simply are not as exciting as the film’s uniqueness seems to promise. Still, Cronos more than towers over most of the horror films of recent times with creative ideas, a solid story, and even an appearance from one of my favorite under-appreciated actors, Ron Perlman.
- 10/31 - Tenebre aka Unsane - The first of our usual Halloween double feature, Tenebre was a decent if disappointing scary flick. The plot doesn’t quite work out, and the actors usually seem distant or bored, but Tenebre’s real problem is a lack of sustained suspense. While many of the shots are incredible, especially a swooping ride up one side of a building, over a roof, and down the other, they seem showy in context, and humor, intentional or otherwise, to often shatters the mood. With Suspiria, Dario Argento created one of the best horror films yet, but with Tenebre, he seems too concerned with convincing us that he is a great director to bother putting together a great film. Still, with some of those inventive images, this is still probably worth a view for fans of the genre.
- 10/28 - The 400 Blows - Ah, the French New Wave. I discovered Truffaut and Godard as a young kid, and even before I knew diddley-squat about the innovative advances they gave to film technique, I was thoroughly intoxicated by their charm, spirit, and intimacy. Without preaching or spit polishing it with cuteness, this film brings to the screen the life of the adolescent, with all its fun discoveries and too-grave ponderings. The camera runs as free as the youth, and if a small minority still can't stand this film, I frankly adore it. I am especially amazed at how the story can stay so anchored in disappointing reality while still conveying the hyper-reality and fantasy-tinged view of youth. I don't see as much chat about Truffaut as I noticed a few years ago, and most of the attention goes to his wonderful Jules and Jim, bur surely there are more foreign directors worth remembering for more than one film than Kurosawa, and surely Truffaut is one of them. The 400 Blows is a brilliant film.
- 10/27 - Spartacus - Often, Kubrick fans turn their nose at this film, done when Stanley was still a director for hire, but frankly, Spartacus is one of his best films, surely better than some of his over-praised later works are. Gee, what a cast! Many old heavies shine here, with Peter Ustinov nearly stealing the entire movie from the likes of Laurence Olivier, Kirk Douglas, Tony Curtis, and the stellar Charles Laughton. Watching this epic-with-a-brain, I don't see how anybody can resist thinking of the disappointing Gladiator and being convinced that this is the film Scott's flawed mess really wants to be when it grows up. The plot packs plenty of unexpected twists, and even when you see a development coming, you'll be surprised at just how effective it is nonetheless.
- 10/25 - Bend It Like Beckham - Well, Beckham turned out to be a much better film than I feared, even if it still falls far short of some of the praise thrown its way. I seem to remember somebody on this site said he / she couldn't help comparing it to Monsoon Wedding and found it wanting (EDIT: I just checked, and it was the illustrious Geek). Granted, I understand this comparison, and yes, this film is no Monsoon Wedding. It really is just another formula film, but injected with enough freshness to work. The actors are all game, the direction doesn't aim any higher than the story merits, and if you're just looking for a decent family film or small drama, you might just dig it.
- 10/19 - Into the Woods - Stephen Sondheim is, I repeat, the god of the modern stage musical. Here, I'll buck critical tradition a bit and suggest that one of the most repeated criticisms of Sunday in the Park with George, his masterpiece, really belongs here. The second act is confused, sloppy, and seems rather tacked on. Where George's concluding chapter is terrific, if jarring to those not wanting to jump decades, here the brilliance of the first act serves only to underline a noble but failed attempt to expand the themes in new ways afterwards. Still, this taped version boasts a killer cast and some classic tunes, and hey, being the third best Sondheim musical still puts you miles ahead of anything Andrew Lloyd Webber ever puked up.
- 10/17 - Loves of a Blonde - Milos Forman's 1965 international breakthrough is, to these eyes, a bit of a disappointment, which doesn't make it a bad film. It is quite funny, and I especially admire its inventive attempt to create a film out of little more than two set pieces. At times, though, it lingers too long in order to build up to a laugh that isn't quite worth the delay, and the attempt at pathos isn't entirely successful, but the energy coursing through the film (much of it borrowed from the French New Wave - check out how much the post-sex scene reminds one of Breathless) makes all this quite forgivable. Besides, if this is the first step towards One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest and Amadeus, it is certainly an interesting, somewhat daring one.
- 10/10 - Kill Bill Vol. 1 - Kill Bill Vol. 1 is Quentin Tarantino's worst film and, no doubt, one of the best of 2003. The anticipated film proves to be loads of fun, presenting an action film while sporting all the stylish personality everybody said Spider-Man displayed. Who can resist a delicious, jazzed-up jumble of Bruce Lee, Kurosawa, John Woo (the opening scene has a segment largely lifted from The Killer), and my man Sergio Leone? Alright, so it, like most revenge films, lacks emotional depth or subtlety, and, less forgivable, at times the humor is a bit forced. And I'll grant you that the opening scene is not entirely successful, but really, if this didn't have Tarantino's name on it, half the world would be wetting themselves over this film. Any fears that the film split would be harmful are completely unfounded, especially since the film really get rolling towards the end and then bows with a twist that guarantees the audience will be back for the second installment. Uma fits QT's vision like a leather glove, and hardly anybody can match music to vision like Quentin. Let's see, four for four, then, I reckon...
- 10/5 - Road to Perdition - Let me get one gripe off my chest first. Why does everybody involved with American Beauty have a horrid addiction to banal commentary that restates the obvious? This didn't get too out of hand in American Beauty, but Alan Ball's Six Feet Under never stinks as bad as it does when the corpses pretentiously feel the need to tell you what you should already know, and Road to Perdition is sandwiched by narration that really ends the entire endeavor with a sour taste. When you've told your story, shut up and don't tell it again. To quote Edina, "We aren't all stupid, you know." While this major flaw really irked, I am bucking the Listology trend and admitting I really liked Road to Perdition. I found the variations on the father and son themes emotionally moving, and the acting was, for the most part, rather extraordinary. Yes, Paul Newman is still a rare treasure, but the fact that he doesn't completely overshadow Hanks in their shared scenes says volumes about how the younger man has grown unexpectedly into an actor of depth and rare subtlety. All the praise went to the cinematography, but it still was not better than the work for The Man Who Wasn't There. Road to Perdition, however, is a much better film that the Coen's contemporary effort. This under-stated film is oddly slow and quiet for a gangster flick, but that restraint adds to the resonance of the actions of its emotionally restrained characters, and while that obnoxious narration remains a serious problem, I think (*duck*) this is a stronger film than Mendes' award-winner American Beauty, and I am a bit baffled as to its muted reception. Perhaps the predictable ending let many down. I found the inevitability of the climax to strengthen the tragic strain running throughout the film, and if it fails to surprise or shock, I do not think the creators meant it to be a twist. Maybe I missing something here, but I found Road to Perdition to be one of the best 2002 had to offer.
- 10/4 - Grumpy Old Men - I was expecting the worst, but luckily, Grumpy Old Men proved to be a bit better. Sure, this isn't going to win any awards, least of all from me, and like almost every Hollywood studio comedy from the last twenty years, any attempt to introduce conflict and resolution falls flat, especially in the final thirty minutes, but when Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau are simply allowed to get on each other's nerves, this films works. Burgess Meredith is a trip as well. Perhaps I should be harsher, but hey, I didn't pay any money to see this, I do like Lemmon and Matthau, and the first hour or so was actually funny in parts. Grumpy Old Men really doesn't add up to much more than an above average comedy, but for fans of the leads, that might be enough.
- 10/2 - Abe Lincoln in Illinois - Gee, what is with my A films fascination as of late? Amateur, Adaptation, About Schmidt, and now, Abe Lincoln in Illinois. John Cromwell's biography of Abe's early years is a near contemporary of John Ford's more famous Young Mr. Lincoln, and for what it is worth, I enjoyed this lesser-known effort much more than the more celebrated work. Truer to fact, boasting great performances from Lincoln-look-alike Raymond Massey (a role everybody in Hollywood knew he was born to play), a young, pre-Maude Ruth Gordon, and tragic Mary Howard, and blessed with more nuanced characterizations that Ford's canonizing effort, Abe Lincoln in Illinois still somehow bombed upon release. Maybe people wanted to see a more fictionalized, iconic Lincoln than a more human one. Critics and viewers may have forgotten this gem today, but anyone interested in Lincoln, early film biography, or RKO's classic films should give it a gander.
- 10/1 - Amateur - Well, I pulled my copy out to check the letterboxed ratio and found I had no choice but to watch the entire film again. What can I do? Amateur is my favorite film, and no doubt, the one I have watched the most. I'm not going to review this yet as I am working on a long review of it for another list, but yes, I still love this movie.
The 400 Blows didn't do it for me the first time around, but you have a knack for making me want to revisit stuff. :-)
What did you think of Kirk Douglas in Spartacus? I have a hard time deciding if the character wasn't written to my liking, or if Douglas himself didn't quite cut it for me. I liked the movie, but it was pretty hard to overcome my feeling that our hero was the second-weakest link in the film.
Hey, what Godard movies would you recommend?
Hey, Jim.
The 400 Blows certainly seems to fail to impress many. I'm not sure if repeated viewings ever helps; it may just be a love it or leave it sort of film.
Kirk didn't really bother me too much in Spartacus, but then, I usually expect the lead in epics not to impress me greatly. I thought he was perfectly fine, but perhaps another viewing would change my mind.
For Godard, Breathless is easily the first film any curious viewer should check out. After that, everybody has his or her favorites, and they rarely seem to match up. Try A Woman is a Woman, and after that, perhaps, Hail Mary. If you're still happy, then move on to Contempt and Pierrot Le Fou, and perhaps My Life to Live and Weekend.
Of the above, I guess only Breathless, A Woman is a Woman, Contempt, Pierrot Le Fou, and My Life to Live are available on DVD, so there you go - Those are the ones I'd try out first, pretty much in that order.
Good luck!
Shalom, y'all!
L. Bangs
I have to say that I didn't find Kill Bill all that interesting. I've liked his other films, but it seems to me that in his previous films, the violence was central and necessary to the story. In this one, I didn't feel that way. I felt it was gratuitous and there just for it's own sake, not because it added to the story. I might be missing something, but this film really didn't do much for me.
Oh, you've done it now...
I've been thinking more and more about violence in the movies, what constitutes gratuitous, and what it says about me when I enjoy violence in the movies, and I still don't have any good answers. I just end up with more questions. I tried to figure out when it was "okay" to watch and enjoy a violent act onscreen.
I started by figuring it's okay when it happens to a villain. We've been rooting for bad things to happen to the villain as long as there've been stories. But then it's also usually okay when bad things happen to good people too, because we've also been telling tragedies and revenge tales as long as we've been telling stories.
So maybe it's just that it's not okay to enjoy it when it's particularly bloody. But is it okay to cheer when the villain gets a bloodless bullet in the heart and keels over soundlessly, but bad to cheer when the bad guy gets decapitated and a geyser of blood erupts from his neck? In both cases you're cheering for somebody's death (okay, a fictional character's death). So is it violence that's gratuitous, or gore?
Or maybe the violence is gratuitous when it's pointless? But I can't think of *any* movies at the moment where the violence is truly pointless. It's always motivated by greed or lust or hatred or revenge or psychosis or something. I've never seen a movie where I know *nothing* about the characters and I'm merely watching violence for its own sake.
Is it gratuitous when the body count is really high? But in most case the body count is really high because the villain has so many friggin' henchmen! The hero can't very well say "I'm only going to kill ten of you. More would be excessive and unsporting. The rest will have to stand aside while I disarm the bomb." Sure, the script could have called for fewer henchmen, but all good heros need a challenge, not to mention the aerobic exercise.
So then we get to the really hard question: why would anybody want to watch such acts? Watching all that blood spray should be abhorrent. Does it matter that it's obviously fictional? It does, clearly (I'd vomit continuously if I witnessed any of these fictional acts in real life), but should it? There's no denying there's a thrill when the villain gets it, and catharsis when the hero gets it, but is that gratuitous? Does it depend on whether you buy into the story or not? Does it feel gratuitous if you don't buy into The Bride's tragedy and quest for revenge, but not gratuitous if do buy into it, and want to see her succeed against very very very long odds? Actually, her success seems almost predestined (what with Vol. 2 waiting in the wings), so does that change the gratuitousness of it?
Anyway, buber, thanks for letting me open this can of worms! I'm not saying the violence in Kill Bill isn't gratuitous, I just don't know, and I grapple with these questions often, as I do, with varying degrees of guilt, enjoy all kinda of onscreen mayhem.
Thanks for your thoughts Jim. In the end, I guess, for me, it comes down to if the violence is supporting some story or if the story is the violence. I felt that way here, but thought in, for example, Reservoir Dogs, the violence supported the story.
Perhaps it all just comes down to how you feel about the story. Kill Bill has a story (IMO), and the violence supports that story (IMO), it's just a very simple plot (boy meets girl, girl leaves boy, boy and gang brutally wipe out girl's bridal party and leave girl for dead, girl exacts bloody revenge). Uma made it all work for me. The pain of her reaction upon waking up from the coma sets the stage (for me) for the revenge that follows. I certainly don't expect everybody (or even most folks) to feel the same way as I do though.
Hmmm.
Well, the truth is, I think film has an over-all effect that is usually very dependent on the story, but not necessarily. I am sure that a large part of my love of, say, 2001: A Space Odyssey, goes far beyond its story. The film creates a very unique experience that only film can deliver, and it does it better than almost any other film has.
QT's previous films have been very grounded by great stories, but I don't really think Kill Bill can be reduced to its story. It is closer to a Greek drama, or an opera, both of which rely on spectacle, images and audio, that usually supports stories but could often at times be there to be enjoy for its own sake. The violence in Kill Bill (to haul out an old critical cliche) is rather like a ballet. I would say there is pleasure in appreciating the giddy rush it provides, even if the film does largely depend on it at least as much as its story for the film's overall effect.
See, look how long-winded I've been, and I haven't even touched on the moral question of violence in film yet!
Shalom, y'all!
L. Bangs
I remember I'd often see John Woo's Hong Kong movies described as a "beautifully choreographed ballet of violence." That description was used so often that all I have to say to my wife now is "John Woo" and she says, "oh right, beautifully choreographed ballet of violence."
I can grok the ballet/opera/greek drama/Kill Bill comparison, in that they're mostly heavily stylized portrayals of fairly straight-forward stories, and the story can almost border on irrelevant. What I don't really get is my (our?) response to violence as something fun or beautiful to watch. In ballet you appreciate the grace of the human form in motion, in opera you appreciate the beauty of the human voice raised in song, and in Kill Bill you appreciate, ummm, the well-executed stroke to the neck, the pile of limbs, the ridiculous geyser of blood. Why would anybody want to watch that? Don't get me wrong, I do, but why? And how can I morally justify liking such a spectacle? I have some justifications in my post above, many of which work for me, but I'd be curious to hear your take on it (and anybody else that wants to join in - I hope to turn this into another Listology morass of "best vs. favorite" proportions :-).
I am so sorry for how long I’ve rattled that can here. Both from a Carpal Tunnel sense and from a communicative sense. Once I started I just couldn’t stop. But it serves you right. This might truly suck (for both of us). And now that I’ve whetted your appetite…
Excellent! Sorry I've been only able to do quick hits this weekend. I'll give this the attention it deserves (which is a lot) and get back to our Speilberg discussion tonight or tomorrow. Thanks!
Wow, I can go two routes with this, and I think I'll take the much shorter route.
I don't think the violence in Kill Bill can be gratuitous when the violence itself to a large degree is the point, even more than the story at most points.
I hope that doesn't sound glib. I confess I'm trying to avoid a long musing about violence in film. If that's a cop out, let me know, and I'll get long-winded! ;)
Shalom, y'all!
L. Bangs
Oh come on, you KNOW I want to hear the long-winded version!
I'd be interested as well.
Maybe that was my problem with Kill Bill. If the whole point of the movie is the violence, then it wasn't that interesting to me. In his other movies, the violence supported a story, here it didn't. As lbangs said, the movie is the violence and vice versa. Maybe that is what I mean by gratuitous. The whole movie reminded me of the knight scene in The Holy Grail.
Let me see if I understand... Okay, I admit it. I'm not sure I understand. Many long and winding and lonesome roads and highways have led to this interchange. I came off of this highway (more specifically, I took this off ramp.) I had been trying to build a case against the Dread Spielberg and accused him of using horror movie techniques. jim then said, "I see Speilberg as a director of suspense and sometimes horror, but I don't think he's made a slasher picture to date, as you seem to be implying." Why, oh why, didn't I declare victory and pull my troops out then I'll never know. I thought I was making sense at the time. So I calmly poured gasoline on the fire and said that, "just because the Dread Spielberg doesn't show you the money shot doesn't mean that he isn't peddling porn." jim was then totally unfair (making wild accusations that the Dread Spielberg might not have been a pornographer) and threw down the gatuitous violence gauntlet. I tried to clear the gratuitous high bar and was met with reasonableness... Well, there's no way that I'm going to take that lying down.
You might have already made a telling distinction about the nature of "gratuitous" when you said, "none of the implied sex in movies from the 50s is pornographic, but we all know what happens between the scenes... there's the thrill, and then there's the kill... when the explicit kill becomes the thrill, you've moved into... 'gratuitous violence.'" Once we know that something will (is/has/whatever) happen then what purpose is served by showing how it will (is/has/stop it) happen? If no purpose is served except to excite and provoke an audience then I believe that it must be gratuitous.
I hope that we can all agree that depictions of violence do excite. They do thrill. Our pulse quickens, our blood pressure rises, we breathe faster. We may "thrill" to this or shrink in horror but violence does thrill; violence is like sex in its power to stimulate (and may effect the sexes in similar proportions.) So why show violence (in all of its gradients) when we can know what has happened in "between the scenes" without inserting a scene actually depicting the violence? I am in no way suggesting that Mother Goose should narrate the shower scene from Psycho (and, remember, the Wachowski Brothers have got nothing on the Grimm Boys.) But violence (yes, this a blanket statement) arouses an audience. It arouses us. Even the threat or prospect of violence provides a visceral thrill. "Visceral" in both senses of the word. It is a reaction over which we have little (no) intellectual control.
So is it "right" to "like" violence? (I could put quotes around "virtually" every single word here so I'm going to try and stop using "any" of them.) No. No, it is not right. We should hold ourselves to higher standards than the manipulation of primal responses. There is nothing funny about beating a man tied to a chair to get information out of him. There is nothing funny about seeing a man forced into a confession by being hung out a window. There is nothing funny about killing a man by flattening him into wet concrete with a steam roller. There is nothing funny about executing small dogs. There is nothing funny about eating a man's beloved fish. (Or making fun of a speech impediment.) It is all very demeaning... or very, very funny. So I think it's acceptable to like violence when it is used towards any artistic end (not just when it is funny.) Being unaware of the Pavlovian effect is dangerous and scary; relishing violence for solely that purpose is evil... as is using violence in a "work of art" ["whoops"] for Pavlovian reasons. [If you want to see a Pavlovian aesthetic towards sex and violence, just watch the WWE. It'll make your blood run frozen. Think about that the next time you cheer the violent end of a villian... well, at least we'll always have the strong homosexual subtext.]
One of the proven risks of violence in media is inurement to more violence, whether it be fictional or real. If you are accustomed to A Sound of Music then footage of the Vietnam War will be shocking. If you have been raised on Blackhawk Down then Vietnam seems antiquated. Violence is also strongly, primally linked with the visual sense. We "see red." We are "blinded by rage." No matter how much you know and read about Van Gogh you will not be prepared for Reservoir Dogs. Miami Blues and Chinatown , on the other hand, might be the perfect primers for the works of Tarantino. Excusing away or explaining an acceptance of violence based upon historical precedent seems, to me, to be fraught with danger. Damsels in distress have been around at least as long as Dudley-Do-Right, if not Aschenputtel. Racial stereotypes have been around since Huggy Bear, if not Shylock. Precedent and tradition should not be used as a cover for objectionable content or conduct. And cheering the violent fate of villians has been around as long as lynching, if not crucifixtion. Mores change (as they should) and hopefully they'll start changing (consistently) for the better. But don't feel bad, The Iliad can be hyper-violent (we will NOT talk about Fight Club .) Violence isn't an indication of bad art, although it might be an indicator.
"Pointless violence" is gratuitous by definition. I'd define it as using violence as exploitation. The fact that it isn't in a snuff movie doesn't, on its own, excuse beating and kicking someone to the tune of "Singing in the Rain." It doesn't forgive the killing of millions of people in a nuclear holocaust to the tune of "We'll Meet Again." Gratuitous use of violence in a character is usually employed to paper over a lack of imagination on the part of writers, a lack of ability on the part of actors and to serve to quickly create an emotional bond with an audience. Think of Vin Diesel or XXX or The Rock or whatever other screen name that one guy is using this week. It is exhilarating to vicariously live through winners in the violence game. In the end, however, it is a false humanity; it is identifying with an oppressor (no matter how noble the "aspirations" of the character. I haven't seen it but: Gladiator ? And contrast that with the true heroism and nobility of The Insider .) Russell Crowe, no matter how fine an actor he can be, will always get more approval and accolades for his violent/aggressive roles... and we should regret that. This displays (and therefore teaches) the wrong lessons.
The most worrisome thing to me in the high body count films is the loss of, for lack of a better term, "individual loss." Think of the slaughter of Nazis at the conclusion of Raiders of the Lost Ark (which can only be borne/survived by closing ones eyes to it.) Contrast that with the peril experienced by the Nazis in Das Boot . I'm not saying that every movie has to treat every death as a singular loss. I am saying that life is cheapened when The Ahnuld is able to kill score upon score of towel-heads without a trace of conscience. It makes the dismissal of unseen mass death just that more acceptable.
Body counts are often used to display a complete set of death scenarios: while firing, while falling through a wooden balustrade, while shooting pointlessly in the air, while fatally shooting one's own compatriots, while fleeing, while charging, while hiding, while confidently smiling, while coming to a horrific realization, while pleading, while... erm, writing. This is a (often bravura) technical display. I'm not saying that is bad, I'm just saying that it should be recognized for what it is... a technique. A contrivance. It is why martial arts heroes are attacked by a succession of single assailants rather than overwhelmed by a swarm of opposition. Red rover, red rover, send the one with the Fu Manch mustache over.
I can actually think of many reasons why one would like/appreciate depictions of violence for higher motives than our basest instincts or revenge. Violence as an aesthetic is (to my mind) valid. This would be Kill Bill: Vol. 1 . It is also a shorthand for Ragnarok, a climactic battle of good versus evil. That might be Kill Bill: Vol. 2 . It can be a depiction of horror, writ both large in Apocalypse Now or small in Psycho . And there is always the comic threat/comeuppance of Looney Tunes or Harold Lloyd or the farce of the Three Stooges. Of course there is always the "beautifully choreographed ballet of violence" which is highly dangerous if not recognized, truly recognized, as such. Otherwise the ballet glorifies violence as... erm, beautiful.
My favorite use of violence (at this moment) is as commentary. Unforgiven . Brilliant. My least favourite is as a standin for sexual congress and/or love. That is despicable. (Although sometimes I think it very funny. Highlander resembles nothing so much as gay porn. What a hoot!) There are many other forms of violence that fall well below neutral feelings for me. The threat of violence (especially to helpless women and children) as a way to heighten dramatic tension is often reprehensible as well as lazy. This is what I think the Dread Spielberg is most guilty of.
If you are now half as tired of reading this as I am of writing it then it means that I am twice as tired as you are. It also means that you have given up reading quite some time ago. Good for you.
I'll be bahk.
Bravo! Loved reading your thoughts. As you might guess, this issue is a bit near and dear to my heart (you might want to check out the axe gang fight in Legend of Drunken Master - a very impressive answer to the "why don't they all attack at once?" $10,000 kung fu question).
I agree with much of this, which I fear will make my response even more dull than usual. Before I can even attempt to come up with an interesting response, I need to ask about your Kubrick references: you seem to single out A Clockwork Orange and Dr. Strangelove as gratuitous in a presumably pejorative manner. Is that right? Do you object to those scenes?
Another question: is it the helplessness of the women and children that particularly rankles with regards to Speilberg? One of the things I liked about Jurassic Park is that they are not helpless (as I recall, anyway). While I can think of directors that would have done a better job with that material, I thought he handled the whole movie pretty well (let's not talk about the sequels though).
...and we're bahk.
Whoops! I actually meant to use A Clockwork Orange and Dr. Strangelove as examples of non-pointless, non-gratuitous and non-exploitative violence. I do not object to those scenes (although I cannot stomach A Clockwork Orange .) I am sorry for being unclear but the thread of my reasoning tends to fray and get lost in the shuttle. I intended to contrast Kubrick's use of violence with that of Vin Diesel/XXX/The Rock and then wrap it up by comparing two aspects of Russell Crowe's feats. I also wanted to show that, through pulling out the briefest of thumbnail descriptions, violence makes quite an impression and is a significant shortcut in communication/art/movies/whatever... and I liked tying the examples together in a medley of hits. In my opinion, Kubrick definitely uses violence on purpose and for a purpose.
I think that Kubrick uses violence precisely because he has imagination and ability. Violence in both of those movies is used to develop character. One is an individual character who is horrific and terrifying while the other is the character of a scenario which is horrific and ridiculous. Both scenes cleverly repurpose familiar songs which shows that something deeper is occurring than just the surface furore. (Or, at the very least, that Kubrick intention is to say something more profound and meaningful about humanity than kick 'em down and blow 'em up.)
(Not to get sidetracked by assaulting and battering the Dread Spielberg, but...) I personally felt that the characters in Jurassic Park were more resourceful (and then not very) than effective. All they did was run from the dinosaurs... out of the paddock, out of the kitchen, over the river and through the woods and off of the island. It seemed to me that the entire movie was King Kong without the beauty/beast subtext. At no point did I feel that the raptors, the T-Rex or those fan-cheeked goo-spitting lizards were ever in any danger. Not even when Crocodile Dundee 2.0 got his hunting freak on.
When the blonde bimbo is fleeing the slasher/chain sawer/potato masher in a horror flic she may have a trick or two (probably two) up her crop-top but she is still helpless and running for her life. (My advice to her: go for the eyes. A blinded lurching shambling axe murderer is much better than a lurching shambling axe murderer with 20/20 vision. And stay away from closets, stock rooms, cupboards, lockers, hutches, wine cellars, all cellars, basements, attics, crawl spaces, curtains, drapes, window shades, awnings, porticoes and especially walk-in-coolers. Hallways, passageways, entryways, foyers...) James Cameron should've directed Jurassic Park . At least his women know how to deal with huge space-insects, water tentacles, murderous liquid-metal cyborgs from the future and post-apocalyptic package deliveries... not too good with the boating, however.
Nice to see you back! That all makes sense to me, and thus I have nothing clever to add to this thread. Loved the "not so good with the boating" line.