The Film Talk - The ongoing podcast conversation about movies with Jett Loe and Gareth HigginsAsk The Film TalkNashville Scene Best Film Podcast 2009

The Movie of the Year 2009: Climaxes

October 6th, 2009by Gareth Higgins · Comments

The Black Hole

I hate missing the ending, so as a conclusion to my interim reflections on the year so far, let’s get to the climaxes.  (Trying my best to avoid spoilers, but read the following at your own risk):

THE MOVIE OF THE YEAR CLIMAXES

Moon: When Sam emulates Dave Bowman’s ultimate trip, but instead of experiencing terror, he’s whopping and hollering like a child on a rollercoaster; the most delightful homage to Kubrick I think I’ve seen.

The moment when Ric O’Barry interrupts a lie by wearing a television in ‘The Cove’.

The last section of ‘Inglourious Basterds’, which appears to be pushing the audience to face what we might prefer to ignore: that when we watch violence as entertainment, we may be complicit in its real world analogue.  (This section begins with an extraordinary image of a woman in a red dress [of the kind that Rita Hayworth used to be sewn into], smoking a cigarette, framed against the window of a cinema projector; the fact that said window seems to have been imported from the Emperor’s decompression chamber in ‘The Empire Strikes Back’, and that the music that accompanies the scene was written by David Bowie and Giorgio Moroder thirty-eight years after the events depicted in the film took place in Tarantino’s imagination only serves to heighten the sense of both the universality of the film’s point, and the fact that ‘Inglourious Basterds’ might be the most aesthetically rich and philosophically profound film released so far this year.)

The climax of ‘Mary and Max’, the astonishing Sundance opener that regrettably still doesn’t have a US release date; one of the most honest unbroken vision of how life ends, and life goes on that I’ve seen in a movie.

The ‘Gojira’ exclamation by Steve ‘Lips’ Kudlow at the end of ‘Anvil’ – the only heavy metal documentary that will make you cry (let me grant the fact that I’m not an expert on heavy metal documentaries); with admiration for the titanic struggle of these guys to do what they do best, and the vicarious pleasure one takes from imagining that the life of a film blogger might one day be as exciting as playing for free to an audience of 12 in a Prague basement club.

The very last image of ‘The Hurt Locker’ – revealing violence-inspired adrenaline as an addiction that will not be ended without the wisdom of old men like Clint.

END CREDITS

Speaking of Clint, you’d have to go far to get a more enveloping and meaningful end credits sequence than the one that has him singing over the embers of ‘Gran Torino’; an actor getting to control his swan song at the end of a film that reconciles the past violence of his iconic characters with the need for someone to end it.

The coruscating static camera throughout the end credits of ‘In the Loop’, observing the business-as-usual scene in the UK civil service, bureaucrats wandering in a formal haze, as if they haven’t just legitimized a war that will kill hundreds of thousands of people, dilute the moral credibility of their own nation, and make the world less safe than at any time since the Cuban Missile Crisis.

Having said all this, the best experience I had in a cinema was my once every three or four-yearly revisitation of ‘Lawrence of Arabia‘, whose ‘funny sense of fun’ gets more disturbing each time I see it; my virginal encounter with ‘Andrei Rublev‘, whose scene of medieval town-sacking is one of about seven hundred reasons why Jett’s weekly statement about it might be unarguable.  But, as far as elevated aesthetic experiences go, none of these matched the sense of delirium I had last week in the presence of the Sun Ra Arkestra, their heavy horns pounding out the kind of sound you might expect to greet you in jazz heaven.  Having said that, I’m going to see a movie at a festival at the end of next week that happens to be the first film I ever saw, and one that I haven’t seen on a cinema screen since 1979.  I don’t know if the ‘The Black Hole‘ holds up as a coherent movie; but I’m hoping that the part of me that was captivated by cinema as a four year old kid thirty years ago gets to live again for a night.  And if you’re in or near North Carolina, you should join me.  If you do, you’ll get to see this:

The Black Hole planl

And why on earth would you want to miss that?

Tell Others About This! These icons link to social bookmarking sites where readers can share and discover new web pages.
  • Digg
  • Sphinn
  • del.icio.us
  • email
  • MisterWong
  • Reddit
  • Technorati
  • StumbleUpon
  • NewsVine
  • TwitThis
  • Facebook

Tags: Animation · Drama · Gareth Higgins

  • Whatever happened to the Black Hole? I remember enjoying it as a youngster as well, and then it just disappeared.

    In fact, I had almost completely forgotten about it until you mentioned it.
  • 'The Black Hole' looks great - fantastic production design/matte paintings. Unfortunately the script is...whew...cringe inducing.
  • I have two questions:

    1. What does "that when we watch violence as entertainment, we may be complicit in its real world analogue" mean?

    2. How come nobody ever mentions (or else leaps over like a group of artistes at a Polanski party) the despicably cruel treatment of at least one horse (a beautiful horse even) in Andrei Rublev?
    I saw AR twice, but not for over 5 years now. I'm not an over-sensitive animal rights lover by any means. I don't value the life of an animal over the life of any human, but (from memory) it didn't look possible that that horse was acting when he tumbled down the stairs arse over elbow. It tainted my whole viewing of the movie, so much so that I refused to watch it again until over a year later when I watched it with the (boring) commentary on the dvd in the hope of making some sense of -or having some explanation if not outright apology for- that scene. I didn't.
    Sure it captures the brutality of the era, but even moreso it captures the brutality of "The Artist" in achieving his vision. Maybe that's part of the theme too, but it's not an excuse in my book.
    One might almost expect it of someone like Peckinpah, but it's somehow more unforgivable in Tarkovsky.
    Could be it was an amazing backward-flipping circus horse in an invisible harnass and/or soviet-era CGI. If so, I'd love to hear that was the case too.
    I don't expect it to taint everyone's opinion of the movie, but I would like it to be highlighted _somewhere_ and not skipped over just because this is "a serious high-brow film, man".
  • I won't speak to Gareth's quoted statement - but as to the death of the horse in Andrei Rublev: all I know is that the crew got the horse from a slaughterhouse - it was slated to be killed that day - they filmed its death - then returned the horse to the slaughterhouse.
  • GarethHiggins
    'When we watch violence as entertainment we may be complicit in its real world analogue' - My thoughts on violence as entertainment are pretty well summed up by David Thomson in our interview with him posted last week; but generally speaking my view is that the shape of our expectations and behaviour is both reflected in and inspired by the shape of the stories we tell that become the myths that permeate. If we keep telling stories in which order is brought out of chaos by maximum force, then it's not a surprise if we keep behaving that way.

    So in that regard, my view falls somewhere between the two 'poles' of interpreting movie violence. One says that it's just a movie and has no impact; the other that copycat violence is rife. I think both of these positions have some credibility; but it's not so much particular and specific acts of violence in a film being repeated in the world as it is the contours of human expectation that are outlined in story. I'm open to the possibility that watching entertainment violence might be cathartic for some people and actually reduce the potential for real world violence; there are some interesting studies on this.

    But to my original point: I think it's possible that an audience dedicated to gratifying its quick-satisfaction synapses by watching spectacular violence on screen may, at the very least, be de-sensitised to violence in the real world, and beyond that, be deeply complicit in such violence. And I am a member of that audience.
  • That's a viewpoint, granted. Similar to "we get the government we deserve", but still if we're only served a selection of cabbages we can't be blamed for being vegetarians.

    ...The horse is a tangental point I know (well, probably parallel since they never meet). Thanks for casting some more light on it Jett. I find it hard to watch. It's not a nice death no matter the circumstances and I'd much prefer the movie if that scene wasn't in it. I'll leave it at that.
blog comments powered by Disqus