I put Starting Out in the Evening as number 3 on my top ten list of movies for 2007, which came as a shock to me, even now, because it was a quiet film that came and went without much being said about it. Unlike the number 1 film on my list, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly it hardly caused a stir. And to that end, I might say a few extra words about The Diving Bell while I'm inspired, because as we know, the posts of late are mostly formed with brevity in mind. I do often wonder how one (me) puts it upon herself to think she might be able to write thoughtfully about every movie she sees, particularly when on busy weeks she can see up to 4 movies. Well, I suppose that is a whole other can of worms, so let us stay focused for a moment on The Diving Bell and the Butterfly before my mind wanders away. A bit of a non-debate arose a few weeks ago at Tativille about The Diving Bell being manipulative with its subjective camerawork, invoking Brakhage's fresh-eyed concept of filmmaking while doing so (if I am understanding this argument correctly anyway), and finally, the problem being that Schnabel's aesthetic was a cakey version of it that exploited that style to make us feel more emotion in places where we perhaps would not have otherwise felt it. (Now say that sentence ten times fast!) But I think the whole trick of the movie is the opposite of anything Brakhage was going for, so to say it was "Brakhage for dummies" is a complete misnomer. Brakhage was about distorting our vision to give us impression of what it looks like to see something for the first time; Schnabel's character woke from his coma as himself, with full mental comprehension of who he was. Bauby wasn't reborn. His ongoing interior monologue establishes that, most beautifully with his sly sense of humor and sexual longings intact. A tacky ripoff of Brakhage, The Diving Bell is surely not. What was so lovely about Schnabel's film was just how much Bauby remained himself while finding a bit more meaning in everyday scenery. If nothing else, Bauby's paralysis is a growing experience that gives him more appreciation of humanity. And anyway, I don't think anyone who didn't like The Diving Bell is a monster, I just think they're offering a plain old provocation.
See what I mean? What chances did Starting Out in the Evening have against all that? I loved it anyways. Lauren Ambrose makes me tingle with her saucy literary wit and her off-kilter sexual advances. Author Leonard Schiller is the subject of Heather's (Lauren Ambrose) thesis, who she pursues with ravenous, passionate delight. She makes herself vulnerable, swiftly, unquestioningly, and in one of the oddest sexual exchanges on film. She shakes the contentment with mediocrity out of Leonard, and indirectly, with his daughter Ariel (Lili Taylor) in her fruitless relationship too. The performances from Ambrose and Taylor are admirable, but I have to take a one step back from that and note the script's saturation with strong female leads. Ambrose and Taylor's characters are just the type of women I long to see: strong, beautiful, sensitive and incredibly smart. They live with weighty emotional turmoil, but move with grace. They're full of faults but that's what makes them compelling and movable. I'm thinking of the ubiquitous Hollywood face of Katherine Heigl, off the top of my head, for instance, and as opinionated as she's made herself publicly, her onscreen life is rather dull despite her shiny exterior. What do I have in common with her? Her wardrobe? Her off the cuff quips a la Knocked Up and (at least from the previews of) 27 Dresses? It's an illusion. Heather and Ariel, to the contrary, are people I want to know, and people who make me feel like myself.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Well, New Year's Eve came and went with a cartoon and a bottle of champagne--alright, and a late-night serenade of Lionel Richie on network television. Big times. But no shame here at Seen, Ratatouille was great fun and a good story (made even better, I suppose, by bottles (plural) of wine. I realized watching the credits that this is a Brad Bird incarnation, the animation filmmaker who made the widely raved-about The Iron Giant; he is obviously a filmmaker to know more about, if only because he makes movies with real stories that aren't patronizing to kids: I will never watch The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything: A Veggie Tales Movie. There's not enough wine in the bottle.
