RunPepe Reviews

Storytelling (2001)

critical look at political correctness

[8/10 · 25 December 2004]

I find this to an amazingly bold film. It is a critical look at political correctness, and a highly comedic one, although most people are probably too offended to see that. I can say from experience that the first segment of the film, "Fiction", is a rather accurate view of a college creative writing class. And the second segment, "Nonfiction", has one of the creepiest characters ever in the young kid in the family. With this film you either get it or you don't, and the majority don't seem to get it. I can't say with time this film will be looked back on any more favorably, although it deserves it. If anything it will probably be even more offensive. Solondz' comedy works for me, because it is not forced, although his punchlines are more like social commentary. Like Spike Lee's greatest films, this is one that is bound to make a lot of people angry. And like Spike Lee's films, it also has several points to make.

The Brown Bunny (2003)

enough about his penis

[28 September 2004]

It saddens me that the only thing discussed about this film is Vincent Gallo's penis. It's barely seen and only for a couple minutes out of the entire film. The blow job scene is explicit not so much in what it shows, but what it tells us about the character. The rest of the ending I will refrain from discussing as it is somewhat of a "twist" or, rather, unexpected. This style of film, with the lengthy shots that so many so-called film buffs seem to find boring, seems to be an

increasing trend in films, possibly as a reaction to the Quentin Tarantino/Robert Rodriguez films, which I also enjoy. Tsai Ming-Liang has been shooting this

way for years, and of course the style has existed for many years, quite

obviously in films like L'Avventura, but it's really becoming almost like a

movement. Gus Van Sant's last two films, "Gerry" and "Elephant", and even

Sofia Coppola's "Lost in Translation", along with "Brown Bunny" represent, to me, an as yet unlabeled movement.

Gerry (2002)

beautiful

[10/10 · 28 September 2004]

In my opinion it is one of the most beautiful films I have ever seen. But it also goes much deeper than that. On the surface it's two guys lost in the desert. What it's really about is two sides of the same person. Hence such shots as the one of them walking side by side and the one of Casey Affleck dragging his feet far

behind Matt Damon. This is also why they are both named Gerry. It's the same

person. In the end Matt Damon is forced to kill off this weaker side of himself in order to survive. The "long, drawn-out, pointless shots", as some have called them, are used to emphasize this concept as well as the feeling of being stuck out in the middle of nowhere, trying to walk back to civilization. We are forced to watch these lengthy shots just as they are forced to partake in their lengthy journey to find a way out. Vincent Gallo's "Brown Bunny" uses them to a similar effect. Also, with lengthy shots we are forced to ask ourselves why we are being shown this image. If there were nothing to analyze about the shot then there

would be no need for the lengthy shot.

Barber Yoshino (2004)

this film deserves distribution

[8/10 · 22 April 2004]

I just saw this film at the Newport Beach Film Festival. Right from the opening scenes I was hooked. The acting was exceptional, which is necessary for a

naturalistic comedy like this to work. Of course, the key element of all great comedy is truth. And the comedy lies in the subtlety of actions, personalities, and words and actions that are humorous because they are true. But what is

the point in summarizing comedy? It never sounds funny that way. The story

itself is an allegory; a stranger comes to town, an outcast in a place where every boy has the same haircut, trimmed by a woman, the title character, whose

haircuts are tradition. The outsider refuses to conform, until finally a group of boys accepts him into their group. These are fifth graders, just beginning to realize their manhood, as well as the world around them. The whole thing

probably runs deeper than I am aware of, being that the film is Japanese, and I have very little knowledge of Japanese culture. The Japan of the film is not the sleek metropolis of Tokyo. Rather, it is a small town where everyone knows

everyone else. By the end of the film, we have come to know the characters so well that we find ourselves almost knowing what is going to happen next, which makes it all the more humorous, for these characters are, of course, human like us, and what is life but the reality of the absurd?

Gerry (2002)

beauty

[10/10 · 15 December 2003]

One of the most, if not thee most, beautiful films I have ever seen. It seems as though a new trend is starting amongst some directors, picking up where

"L'avventura" and Ozu left off, maybe as a reaction toward the Tarantino and

Robert Rodriguez style of filmmaking. The "plot" seems to exist solely for the purpose of providing a reason to show the viewer a series of images and to

show us how the two characters interact with one another in the situation and location. This is not to say that plot is secondary or disposable in any way. But it exists in a manner that is stripped down, like the number of characters, like the long takes. The camera's presence is more like that of a canvas. The camera

wants to show us something, as opposed to just showing us something because

that's what it's supposed to do. The same could be said of Van Sant's latest film, "Elephant" and Sofia Coppola's "Lost in Translation" and perhaps Vincent

Gallo's "The Brown Bunny," too, although I have not yet seen the film, only

surmised this from hearsay, but he did use several Ozu-style shots in the scenes with Billy Brown's family in "Buffalo '66."

Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? (1957)

A Success

[10/10 · 12 October 2003]

A brilliant spoof of advertising and Hollywood. Quite possibly my favorite comedy film. It took me forever to find a copy of it (on VHS), but I finally have one. I don't know why it isn't more readily available. Jayne Mansfield is a wonderful parody of Marilyn Monroe and other sex symbols. Tony Randall's reactions as an average Joe suddenly turned famous lover are hilarious. A lot of rather innovative techniques, such as the opening credit sequence, with Tony Randall introducing the film, followed by dead-on spoofs of commercials, and the very subtle use of transitioning to a blue or yellow screen before moving on to the next scene. I highly respect this film and I highly recommend it.

An Unmarried Woman (1978)

realistic

[9/10 · 10 October 2003]

Definitely the best "woman's" film I've ever seen, and definitely Philip Kaufman's best film, period. The screenplay is excellent, the dialogue sounding very natural, which enhances the characters. The acting is incredible, as no one seems like they are acting, just reacting to each other and their circumstances the way anyone else would in life. Martin (Michael Murphy) crying, instead of being emotionless or hostile, when he tells his wife, Erica (Jill Clayburgh), he has fallen in love with another woman could almost be considered a stroke of genius. It is touches like these that make An Unmarried Woman one of the most realistic films out there, really digging into the psychology of the human mind without losing emotion.

Kiss Me Deadly (1955)

beyond noir

[10 October 2003]

Although it starts out as a film noir thriller, Mickey Spillane's Kiss Me Deadly, based on his book, has, by the end, expanded into something beyond that. Only recently has this film become a classic, being largely overlooked upon its release, except for the excessive violence. In fact, it seems to be ahead of its time, having more in common with Chinatown than something like Double Indemnity or Out of the Past. Although, Mike Hammer (Ralph Meeker) is much tougher than Chinatown's Jake Gittes, he really has no idea what he's getting himself into. Because of his stubbornness to find out why the hitch-hiking woman he picked up told him he must "remember [her]", someone he knows is killed, someone else is kidnapped, and he is duped by someone he thought he could trust and help. The opening sequence alone proves that it will be a different film than other noirs. After picking up a hitch-hiker, Mike Hammer drives off with her crying over the song "Rather Have the Blues" sung by Nat King Cole over the radio, with the opening credits scrolling downward over the car, reading from the bottom up, like they would if they appeared written on the street. Without giving the ending away, keep in mind the film was made during the heart of the Cold War. Two versions of the film exist, the U.S. one having a quicker, more abrupt ending, but the real version, as was released worldwide, is actually extended a bit longer, which makes a big difference. Most copies available now should be the real version, not the oddly cut one. Although Robert Aldrich would later go on to direct many more classic films, like The Dirty Dozen, Kiss Me Deadly remains his first, a great film from a director before anyone knew he, himself, would become one of the greats.

Do the Right Thing (1989)

one of thee greatest films ever made

[10/10 · 9 October 2003]

Perhaps it will take another decade or two, maybe even more, but once someone says, "Hey, let's take another look at that film" from that distance, hopefully it will finally get the recognition it deserves. This film is a Spike Lee film, by which I mean no other director could have made this film. No other director could have said what Lee said with this film, showed what he showed... Now, try to compare this film to any other films out there, even his own. I cannot think of one single other film out there that really gets into the issue of racism and presents an intelligent analysis of it quite so well as this one. Do the Right Thing takes on this issue of racism and shows us all the complications and complexities of it. What is the right thing? For each culture it is something completely different. And the right thing can simultaneously be the wrong thing. No character is without flaw, no character is without redeeming qualities. Someday I hope this film will be recognized for the brilliant work it is. Do the Right Thing needs to be placed up there with other similar groundbreaking or landmark films like Midnight Cowboy, Cool Hand Luke, or The Best Years of Our Lives. Spike Lee, although respected by many, is equally snubbed and misunderstood by many more. But whether he [ticks] you off or enlightens you (as he has me), he has still made an impact, made you think. And there aren't too many others who can do it quite so powerfully as Spike Lee.

D.O.A. (1949)

concept

[8/10 · 1 October 2003]

One of the best concepts for a film noir or even any film in general. It reminded me of Ida Lupino's The Hitch-Hiker, taking an interesting concept and creating a great B-film that wouldn't necessarily have been any greater if given a higher budget. The film's rawness and grittiness works to its advantage, as it can with most noirs. The cinematography was very good. The rushed pacing of the film both helped and hindered. Once Frank Bigelow (Edmond O'Brien) learns he has been poisoned the pace immediately speeds up, but it seems as though the tension rarely relaxes so it can be allowed to build back up. For example, this could have been achieved by having other characters who were unaware he had been poisoned bring him into situations where he had no control over how quickly they helped him. Even the scenes when Bigelow is talking on the phone with Paula (Pamela Britton) as she prods him with questions, the pacing still seems to be just a little too hurried. By dragging the scenes out, the sense of urgency might have been amplified. Of course, one could equally argue that the relentlessness is entirely appropriate. Being that I've only seen the film once, it is hard to say until I watch it again. Overall, it's an intriguing film that hooks the viewer's attention from the opening scene and won't let go until the end. Well worth watching.

The Bad and the Beautiful (1952)

highly overlooked

[8/10 · 28 September 2003]

This film has been highly overlooked and neglected. It is, in my opinion, at least as good as something like The Best Years of Our Lives. Minnelli's direction is superb, the cinematography is intriguing, the all-star cast turns in top notch performances, and the separate stories of how a director, an actress, and a writer each was both screwed over and started on the path to greatness by the producer Jonathon Shields, played by Kirk Douglas, each work like their own individual films, much like three intertwining stories of the veterans of The Best Years of Our Lives and the different experiences of those who knew Charles Foster Kane in, of course, Citizen Kane. Gigi and Meet Me in St. Louis are both great films, but The Bad and the Beautiful is now definitely my favorite Minnelli picture.

The Sterile Cuckoo (1969)

Loneliness...

[8/10 · 17 January 2003]

This is one of the few films I've seen in which every shot represents the theme and overall feeling of the film. No matter whether Minnelli's Pookie and Burton's Jerry are together as a couple, in a crowd, or completely alone, a sense of loneliness pervades the situation. To achieve this Pakula uses several long shots of the characters, or, during the party scene, he has Pookie and Jerry on separate levels of the staircase, staring up or down at each other from a distance. From the very first shot we see this, with Pookie and her father walking to a bench and then sitting there waiting, in an extremely long take that spans the entire opening credits. In representing the awkwardness of a first sexual experience, another extremely long take is used, in which Jerry disrobes Pookie, take off each piece of clothing one by one, hanging them up in the closet or folding them properly, then doing the same for himself, and within this the loneliness is established in Pookie's great enthusiasm to "get in the sack" and Jerry's calculated attempts at making the experience romantic, which are completely unromantic. Even McIntire's small role as Charlie plays an important part in the representation of the loneliness, as he assumes that Jerry is a virgin, like he is, thinking he confide this is in Jerry because they have it in common, which they don't. Minnelli's acting in this excellent, probably on the same par as her role in Bob Fosse's "Cabaret." This is also one of the few films I have actually not just felt sad about, but actually did cry at. I believe this is a very well-made film, and it deserves a higher rating than it has on here. The subjects it deals with are not trivial in the least, they are an important part of life, and the ending is perfect in proving this. It is very realistic in the psychological portrayal of its characters, which is a very difficult thing to pull off. I have not read the book, but I am sure the characters are established just as well in this film adaptation. Although it is a sad film to watch, Pakula hooks us right away with Pookie's outrageous personality, and although, like Jerry, we feel she is annoying person, even if she is friendly, we cannot stop listening to her and watching her, and when she is not in a scene we feel something is lacking. So, rather quickly, we begin to enjoy her character and what it brings to the film, just as Jerry begins to enjoy her company and she helps him learn to enjoy his life and be more outgoing, even though, in the end, this works against Pookie. I feel this film has been highly overlooked, and I definitely recommend it, even with the sad ending it brings. By the end of the film I had fallen in love with Pookie, and this is what makes it such a strong film.

CQ (2001)

The worst film I saw this year.

[2/10 · 27 December 2002]

CQ was the worst film I saw this year. Nearly every film I choose to see in the theater is at least entertaining or has something to say. This film looked like like it was directed by a film student for his Intro. to Filmmaking class. His father makes great films. His sister made a good one. But brother Roman? NO! One critic had the audacity to compare this film to Godard's Le Mépris (Contempt). While Coppola, Jr. did take the same idea, a film about film, he tried too hard to make himself seem European, artsy, and witty, when it's all really just kitsch. The lead actor carries the same expression through the whole film, like he's either in awe or in shock of this film being made around him. Schwartzman somehow manages to pull off his role as a flamboyant director. Depardieu is alright. The one scene that has any real film spoof humor at all is, surprisingly, not the B-movie scenes, but rather one which takes place in Italy; a montage of shots of several various characters inside a very small car, driving around picking up and dropping off random people. This was the only thing that reminded me of the cinema I am guessing he was trying to spoof. Or rip-off. Or both. The documentary with the lead talking into the camera and filming various objects has been played out, the ending was tagged on for the sake of a "twist" or artistic value... I suppose the funniest thing about this film was the film itself, and not in the way it intended. No wonder this film was sent back after a festival screening to be re-edited or re-shot or whatever, which makes me curious as to just how bad it was before. I can't believe it could have been worse than this. If you want to see a good parody of film check out the Austin Powers films. Any of them. The opening to the third is more entertaining and more genius than this entire film. Lil' Romy, for the sake of cinema, PLEASE go back to directing your cousin's music videos. Leave The Godfathers to daddy.

Contempt (1963)

Probably my all-time favorite film

[10/10 · 26 December 2002]

This is probably my all-time favorite film, at least of all the films I have seen so far in my life. Godard is also my favorite director. No other director has taken so many chances and experimented so much with so many films, creating multilple levels of storyline, and all the while remembering that it is just a film, but also that what is in the film is all real. The first Godard film I saw was Le Mépris. It forever changed the way I viewed film, and from that point on I became enamored with cinema. Buffalo 66 had been the first film I really connected with, and it showed me how artistic, emotional, and powerful film could be. But after seeing Le Mépris for the first time, I realized to what extent. If I had only viewed the first and final shots of this film, it still might be my favorite. A camera is seen doing a tracking shot of a woman walking toward the "real" camera. Eventually the camera meets with the "real" one, and turns to "face it." This one shot says a lot. Not only is the audience a part of the film, for they are watching it and have now been "shot" into the film, but also the "real" camera and whatever crew might have been behind it. To summarize what I am attempting to explain, I will quote, as best I can, a statement made by Godard: "When you see yourself in a photo, do you say you are a fake?" Incidentally, the great German director Fritz Lang plays himself in the film. The film ends with a shot which is the complete opposite of the first one. Now the film camera and the "real" one point out to sea, and the

"real" one focuses on a blue sky and sea that are almost one, in silence, as if representing the emptiness of one person alone. The film is about film, and, more specifically, about Hollywood's corruption of film. To further emphasize Godard's knowledge of how all film is real, to some extent, he cast Jack Palance as the "evil" Hollywood producer, as he was as a leading "bad guy" in American films, as well as Brigitte Bardot, who had become a sex symbol in America. After making the film Palance briefly mentioned it on a television talk show, or something of that nature, stating more or less he had done some film with some French director, and how stupid it was. Well, guess who was stupid? Godard exploited a Hollywood by-product to an even greater extent then he may have hoped, thus really driving his point home. On another level Le Mépris is a love story, or, rather, a post-love story. The film can be viewed on two different levels and still be enjoyed, although anyone that watches foreign films would probably notice both levels anyway, as they are not part of the average force-fed movie-going public. This movie would not be complete without the use of Georges Delerues score, who also composed for Truffaut, amongst others. For the most part one theme song is used through the film, and Godard plays with this, too. The music will seemingly just cut off, unlike the average fade out. Whether this was the idea of Delerue or Godard, it is still a highly influential technique. In Alfonso Cuarón's recent Y tu mamá también (for the record, I believe that Mexican cinema is the next nouvelle vague), the music and sound will cut out for a few beats before the narrator begins to speak, and no doubt this is an influence from Godard's films or French cinema in general, as foreign films are much more popular and well-known in countries such as Mexico then in the United States of America, or, to paraphrase a line from Godard's Éloge de l'amour, "which United States of America?" I suppose, then, I mean the nameless country. Le Mépris is just an example of Godard's original approaches to cinema. He experiments with shots and angles, he insists on natural lighting to keep the realness, and he uses or adapts ideas in a unique fashion. He utilizes color, but will seek out buildings or other objects with the colors he wants, rather than repaint or tamper with ones that could be suitable except for the color. To list all his visionary concepts is almost impossible. In the end, Le Mépris and Godard's other films break all the rules of filmmaking, then put them back together in their own way. Somehow, even if they are confusing, they always make sense in the context of his artistry. As with 2001's Éloge de l'amour, Godard will most likely continue this trend, being one of the few directors to maintain a freshness throughout his career and his life, without compromise.

Gangs of New York (2002)

"He makes the best f***ing films!" - King Missile, "Martin Scorsese"

[8/10 · 21 December 2002]

Honestly, I think despite the praise (and the demerits) it's getting, "Gangs of New York" is still underrated and misunderstood. Scorsese says so much about so many things in this film, that it's really overwhelming and easy to overlook them if you watch it instead of emerging into it. Many things which have be seen as kitsch by the average critic, actually make a huge point, and, in addition, there are a lot of subtleties. The following example is not really what i mean by the scope of the film, but in one scene, in which someone refers to the pickpocket, Cameron Diaz, as Mrs. Amsterdam, Amsterdam being the name of Leo Dicaprio's character, he is either making a joke about their relationship or they have really been married, although no other mention or scene of a marriage has taken place. This is exactly what Coppola did in "The Godfather" films. Characters would mention things or a baby would be seen, and this one thing would say or show something that happened that otherwise was not spoken or heard of... a marriage, the birth of a child, a killing, etc., which also shows the time that has passed and some minor detail that relates to the main story itself. In the context of the film as a whole it does not mean a lot to the main story, but it shows that something has happened which we haven't been shown, some time has passed, and that, in GONY Leo and Cameron are now a valid, and trusting, couple. In probably his best role yet, Daniel Day-Lewis plays a man nicknamed "the Butcher," who leads the gang that opposed Leo's father's. In the style of the great method actors, Brando and Bobby DeNiro, he kept his New York accent on and off the set. Now, one critic stated that his character is, in a sense, over the top, P.T. Barnum-ish (P.T. Barnum happens to be a character in the film, as well, and is named-dropped on several occasions for good reason), that he might as well have been computer generated... but that's a major part of his character... and the story and the time. He is a caricature of America, portraying our morbid curiousity, amongst several other things. This film is America... past, present, future... vigilantes... racism... power-hungry... mass murderers and murder in general (which the media and entertainment loves to show, including this film, but at least it had an extremely valid reason)... bloodshed of war between our own people and between "us" and "the foreigners"... organized crime... a corrupt government... corrupt politicians... assassination... minor religious differences and the huge problems they cause... men drafted to fight for "their country" that usually end up coming home in wooden boxes... bribery... class distinctions and differences... theft... the morbid curiousity and the attraction to the freakish... satirization and caricaturization of the government and... etc., etc., etc. The central plot is a revenge story, with a love story on the side, but what it's really about is all of the aforementioned problems and quirks that are American... that ARE America. I think a lot of people missed out on this, because it wasn't told outright to them. The time period ends with the draft riots, which was one of the bloodiest events, if not thee bloodiest, in American history. I believe this says a lot about the movie and America as a whole. The final shot makes all of this obvious. It shows the New York of the 1800s slowly build into the New York of today. I'll let that speak for itself. The way Scorsese moves the camera shows all of these things, with his trademark tracking shots, and, really, any of his shots. He takes everything from "Mean Streets," "Goodfellas," "Kundun," everything great about his films and pieces them all together in this one. So much is going on around the characters, around the film itself, and Scorses captures all of it. America might as well be "all this stuff" that DeNiro's Travis Bickle sweeps his hand over in "Taxi Driver." One last comment: The set is one of the greatest ever constructed. The more money these producers give Scorsese, when they do, the better the film he makes. He even paid for the film from some of his own salary he received for directing it. Apparently, George Lucas (read the Trivia) saw the set and told Scorsese they have computers that can do that now. And that... THAT is the difference between a director and an auteur.

Stuart Bliss (1998)

Unique and intriguing...

[7/10 · 9 December 2002]

This is one of the strangest films I have ever watched, but the strangeness is something completely different from, say, "Donnie Darko" or "Abre los ojos." The strangeness lies not in a man in a rabbit suit or a man who lives in a dream, but rather in everyday occurrences. Perception is the key to "Stuart Bliss," whether it be time, chance occurrences that seem to be linked, perhaps even mental derangement. No answer to any question asked by the film or the audience should be expected. Like Stuart says of time, how it is able to move backwards and forwards, this film seems to present a portrait, a snapshot, of something that is blurry and cannot be entirely distinguished. Watching the film more than once, however, allows for the viewer to notice details that went by unnoticed the first time. For example, anyone watching this film should pay attention to the pink notices Stuart keeps receiving, as they play a keep part in understanding the film, at least as much as it can be understood. This is a film that is difficult to describe or dissect, as it could be about any number of things. Details of a larger picture manifest themselves throughout the whole, but they never come into focus. One can only guess from the outline at what is being presented, and this must be seen through his or her own subjective perception. "Stuart Bliss" is not a filmmaker's film, despite the fact that the director and primary actor also performed most of the other key production tasks. Rather, it is more of a philosophical and/or psychological work, something even movie buffs might not be able appreciate. Incidentally, I found Michael Zelniker's acting to be more than competent, especially in the way his character slowly degenerates throughout the course of the film, which "ends" in a perfect circle. I only recommend this film to those who actually have the ability to notice and appreciate subtlety and mentality that lies outside the norm. "Stuart Bliss" has given me a new influence and means of perception, not just in film, but in all art, and even life itself.

Hiroshima Mon Amour (1959)

A complex view of humans and how they cope when their worlds become tragic

[10/10 · 11 October 2002]

This film has been compared to "Citizen Kane," not because of the story itself, but the way it is told, and through innovative artistic devices. The screenplay is highly poetic even when describing destruction, death, and madness. Several jump cuts in time occur with voice-over, and, at the beginning, voice-over during a montage of frightening images from the aftermath of the Hiroshima bombing and the bodies of the two lovers in bed. The characters represent different cities; the Japanese man, Hiroshima, the French woman, a city in France, Nevers (was this intentional?), but the latter might as well represent any outside nation. While "Hiroshima," even after being destroyed by an "ally" of France, falls in love with her and wants her to stay, despite his claims that she can never know what the bombing was really like, yet leaving this in the past without forgetting, "France" is hung up on a dead Nazi soldier whom she had loved, and became an outcast because of it. What the soldier really seems to represent is not the Nazis, but rather a real, true love that transcended nationalities and associations. France's past is personal and fears forgetting it, while Hiroshima's is communal and, while not wanting to forget, also wants to move ahead. For this reason Hiroshima keeps trying to convince France to stay so that they can be in love, but France is too preoccupied with its own personal ghost that it cannot share, which is why it is a major breakthrough for her when she tells her tragic story for the first time to anyone, Hiroshima. Hiroshima's past tragedy being communal is shared and it wants to share with the rest of the world. France's tragedy is personal and is only beginning to be shared. It takes the entire film before the two characters can get to a beginning of something more than their differences and likenesses of tragedy and loss in the past, and this beginning is who they really are, in the present, two people reborn from these tragedies.