Hiển thị các bài đăng có nhãn sxsw film festival. Hiển thị tất cả bài đăng
Hiển thị các bài đăng có nhãn sxsw film festival. Hiển thị tất cả bài đăng

Thứ Bảy, 21 tháng 3, 2015

David (Benjamin Dickinson) in Creative Control.
I see hipster doom

By Miranda Inganni

Director Benjamin Dickinson’s slickly styled Creative Control is, at its heart, an old fashioned love story set in the near future Brooklyn, New York; but it is also a cautionary tale about our dependence on technology.
Ad exec David (Dickinson) has been given the chance to play around with a new high-tech product, Augmenta. It’s a virtual reality platform that his company is trying to figure out how best to sell to the masses. David must perform! Added to the pressure David is experiencing at work, he is also going through a rough patch with his live-in girlfriend, Juliette (Nora Zehetner). David finds inspiration in the form of Sophie (Alexia Rasmussen), the girlfriend of his best pal, Wim (Dan Gill). As he spends more and more time with “Sophie,” thanks to the technology of the Augmenta glasses, David withdraws from the rest of his life.
Creative Controlis quite impressive to watch. It is beautifully shot by Adam Newport-Berra in black and white, with just a hint of color here and there. The technology depicted in the film is believable and the special effects are never a distraction. And there is an excellent vomit scene.
However, the four lead characters come across as somewhat boring hipsters for whom it is hard to care. David is bored in the bedroom, so he crushes on another woman. Juliette is frustrated with David, so she practices yoga with another man (Paul Manza). Wim is a self-absorbed philanderer, who only decides to commit to Sophie when he thinks he might lose her. Sophie…well, Sophie is just kind of dull. She is very pretty and stylish, but she doesn’t really do anything.
Winner of the Visual Excellence Award at SXSW, Creative Control is a pleasure to watch and a decent story (co-written by Dickinson and Micah Bloomberg). While mine may not be the popular opinion, I find the characters not quite fleshed out enough. This is apt considering David’s retreat to spend time with his virtual reality sex toy. When the people around you don’t feel fully formed, perhaps all you can do is create your own special friend.

 

Thứ Tư, 18 tháng 3, 2015

A scene from Bikes vs. Cars.
Roads to ruin or rejection

By Miranda Inganni

Director Fredrik Gertten’s latest documentary, Bikes vs Cars, travels to various cities around the world to examine the issues and some of the causes surrounding the titular feud. In Sao Paulo, Brazil we meet Aline Cavalcante, a bike activist, who wonders why the city’s public transportation is so expensive and terrible, and if the city really has the worst traffic jams in the world. Another city vying for that unfortunate award is Los Angeles, CA, where Dan Koeppel is trying to make a difference for bike riders, while delving into the city’s history and exposing the ugly truth about the ever expanding freeway system.

These two cities used to have fantastic infrastructure for bicycling enthusiasts, but now they stink (literally and figuratively) thanks to the oil, construction and auto industries. The car-centric cultures that these industries have created, have stripped away bikes lanes, increasing the risks bicyclist face each time they ride.

The facts are terrifying. From how often bicyclists are killed in various cities, to the amount of people suffering from air pollution around the world, to the expected increase in automobile sales in the next five years (double what it is today). But people love their cars. There is, of course, the socioeconomic status that car ownership bestows upon the driver. But why cannot the same be afforded to lovers of the environmentally friendly bicycle? And beyond the bourgeois status of car ownership, what is the point of being able to buy a car if all you can do is sit in traffic?

However, there is some good news beyond the smog. As exemplified in Copenhagen, Denmark and The Netherlands, biking in a big city can work! And everyone breathes a little better because of it.

A call to action, Bikes vs. Cars is not so much about two wheels vs. four wheels, per se, the real battle here is between the status quo versus the possibility of a better future.


Thứ Hai, 16 tháng 3, 2015

A scene from A Woman Like Me.
Alternative reality

By Miranda Inganni
In 2011 director Alex Sichel (All Over Me) was informed she had a terminal disease. As a way of facing her fears and processing the information, she, along with A Woman Like Me co-director Elizabeth Giamatti, decided to make a film about a woman who is given the same prognosis. She also decided to direct a documentary about her life post-diagnosis, including the making of the movie. It’s not exactly a movie-within-a-movie, or a movie about a movie, but rather a hybrid thereof.
As Sichel described it when she got her diagnosis of metastatic breast cancer, she felt like she was watching a movie about a woman with cancer. And so she set about making that movie with (the fantastic) Lili Taylor playing the lead role of Anna Seashell in hopes that Anna’s reactions would be more optimistic that Sichel’s real life ones. The movie gives Sichel the chance to control the outcome: direct the disease or redo “scenes” that she thought she should have performed differently in real life. Sichel practices her reactions to the grim news (even her own death scene) and gets a chance to recreate chapters from her life via Anna. But both the fictionalized character’s life and the life Sichel presents in the documentary are manipulated by Sichel and at times A Woman Like Me feels selfish. But it also feels tender.  (I cannot imagine making a movie, let alone while undergoing cancer treatments and reconciling one’s own end of life.
Sichel’s life in A Woman Like Me is hectic with her family. Erich, her husband, and Anastasia, her daughter, are both featured heavily, as are other family members. She undergoes holistic treatments and explores non-Western ways of dealing with the disease, exploring a “Buddhist experience of cancer.”  She coaches Taylor through scenes and rehearsals. Faced with a death that she knows will come too soon, Sichel often presents a surprisingly upbeat persona in A Woman Like Me, her legacy.

Thứ Hai, 18 tháng 3, 2013

A scene from Computer Chess.
Slouching toward Alphaville

By Don Simpson

Andrew Bukalski’s Computer Chess is exactly what I would imagine an immersive documentary about computer chess programmers circa 1980 to look like. Modeled loosely as a first person — dare I say “found footage” — narrative, Bujalski’s film documents a computer chess tournament a few years before computers are expected to conquer humans…at least within the realm of the 64 squares of the chess board. As if these programmers learned nothing from 2001: A Space Odyssey or Battlestar Galactica, they teach their respective team’s computer to play a board game that was developed centuries ago by humans, for humans.

To win at chess, one must be able to predict his or her opponent’s future moves; presumably these programmers are on the cusp of developing code that will allow computers to do just that, anticipate the decisions that a human will make in the future. Imagine the possibilities in military, political, financial and marketing strategizing if computers could accurately predict human behavior. Essentially, these hyper-intelligent men -- and let’s not forget the one woman -- are laying the groundwork for Artificial Intelligence. You might call it a god complex, their desire to develop a form of consciousness purely out of circuitry and code. Bujalski, however, doesn’t present us with a heavy-handed diatribe about computer programmers with god complexes; these are just a bunch of nerds who can effortlessly ramble on and on and on about technology to eye-glazing — and eye-rolling — proportions. Carbray (James Curry) is the perfect example of a programmer who seems to speak in a language that indecipherable to anyone but himself. The meandering linguistic smokescreen befuddles whoever is listening to him, rendering them powerless in debating his oblique hypotheses. It is the Computer Chess ensemble’s propensity for philosophizing that reminds me of Richard Linklater’s Slacker but, whereas Linklater’s film ruminates upon the existential crises of humans, Bujalski’s film expounds upon the existential crises of synthetic consciousness.

Bujalski makes an interesting decision to juxtapose the technology-driven participants of the computer chess conference with the followers of a new age guru from Africa. The guru professes the significance of the human heart and soul, teaching his followers to be more open and loving to others. The computer chess teams are secretive and competitive. They are focused on exploring a mechanical consciousness rather than looking inward towards their own. This tactic may seem a bit too contrived -- that is until the two groups interact with each other, then Bujalski’s approach makes a lot more sense.

Winner of the Alfred P. Sloan at this year's Sundance Film Festival, Computer Chess carefully balances high-minded philosophy with comedy and pathos. All the while, Bujalski achieves an ultimate level of realism by enlisting a cast of computer savvy actors and non-actors who at least seem like they know what they’re rambling on about. The production design is the real show-stopper though; this is a masterfully stylized film saturated with authenticity.

Thứ Năm, 22 tháng 3, 2012

A scene from Tchoupitoulas.
We have a contender!

By Don Simpson

Bill and Turner Ross’ Tchoupitoulas does a tremendous job of defying classification. It functions as both a surreal documentary that borrows from narrative storytelling techniques and a narrative film that paints a realistic portrait of its protagonists by utilizing documentary devices. The narrative unfolds like an improvised jazz album with various tangents that flow seamlessly away from and towards the forward-moving primary thread. The tempo continuously alternates as well as the sublime, impressionistic cinematography alternates between running, walking and pausing. We are fully immersed into the surrounding environment from the perspective of three young brothers as they embark upon an adventure deep into the heart of New Orleans.

Tchoupitoulas feels like a fairy tale as the three boys enjoy absolute freedom without any parental supervision, experiencing firsthand the entrancing New Orleans nightlife — something that is typically limited to adults. Every sequence brings new emotions, ranging from ecstasy and joy to fear and sadness. When the new day rises, the magical cinematic sedation quickly wears off. We are awoken from the meditative dream-state and the story ends, yet the entire cinematic experience is left lingering in our subconscious like a fading childhood memory.

No one makes films like the Ross brothers -- at least not anymore -- and Tchoupitoulas is no exception. A cerebral experience like none other, Tchoupitoulas is certainly going to be one of my favorite films of 2012.
Francine (Melissa Leo) in Francine.
Realism, I suppose she is acting

By Don Simpson

Sometimes a great film is the product of pure, dumb luck; and Francine is one of those films. We will never know what this film would have been without Melissa Leo in the titular lead, instead we will only know this film by the masterful performance that Leo contributes. The story goes that Leo was not pursued by the directors, she responded to a general casting call posted by the Hudson Valley Film Commission. With an Oscar under her belt, Leo could have taken countless other roles that would have paid much higher wages; but we can only assume that Francine struck Leo as a character she needed to fully immerse herself in.

Francine begins with Francine’s last day in prison. It seems she has been locked away for a long time, though the crime she committed is left unspoken. Francine moves into a small cottage near the water and finds a series of jobs — at a pet store, in the stables of a polo club, at a veterinarian’s office.

Yes, Francine loves animals. She begins to collect them, as if to create a close-knit family, one that only knows unbridled love and affection. Eventually, Francine’s home becomes one of those homes, one in which too many animals are given too much freedom in too confined of a space. (Thank goodness smell-o-vision was not used in the making of Francine!)

As Francine tepidly integrates herself back into society, she begins to develop friendships. This is the crux of Francine, a cinema verite portrayal of a woman struggling to become a member of the free world. As awesome as Leo’s performance is, co-directors/writers Brian M. Cassidy and Melanie Shatsky's Francine‘s strength is in its uncanny sense of realism -- the real people, the real places, the real events. This is essentially a documentary from the perspective of a fictional character.