Screening Room

by Ari

 

I Heart Huckabees - David O. Russell
I Heart Huckabees is one of the most original and consistently hilarious comedies of the decade, but unfortunately it never caught on or even remotely appealed to the general audience. It’s not surprising, really, considering the nature of the film, but I still hope that David O. Russell’s brilliant, audacious existential comedy gains some future recognition. I’ve seen I Heart Huckabees many times now, and on each viewing I find myself engrossed, charmed, and even moved by what the film has to say. Why not have a movie that asks the big questions in the form of a comedy? We’ve recently become accustomed to expect philosophical themes in either serious, usually art-house or avant-garde films like The Thin Red Line, or by intelligent genre filmmakers like The Wachowski Brothers, who disguise serious questions in the form of escapist adventure. So it’s surprising and refreshing to see a talented artist like David O. Russell at least try to change all that. The search for meaning can be funny at the same time it’s devastating, and this is exactly what I Heart Huckabees does so effectively. It’s a playful movie, both in its tone and through its performances, but that playfulness works on the viewer instead of distancing or boring them. The characters are rich and engaging, from Schwartzman’s Albert Markovski to Jude Law’s Brad Stand. Mark Wahlberg just about steals the movie with his hilarious performance as Albert’s “other”, and Dustin Hoffman and Lily Tomlin are pure joy as the mysterious existential detectives. And for a film that explores so many interesting and complex ideas, it's to Russell and co-writer Jeff Baena’s credit that they manage so many memorable comedic lines. Only in a David O. Russell film will you intentionally laugh at an exchange such as this: “Have you ever transcended space and time?” - “Yes. No. Time, not space.....no, I don’t know what you’re talking about”

 

Lawrence of Arabia - David Lean


The epic of all epics. Lawrence of Arabia is the kind of film we don’t see anymore and will probably never see again. Like it or not, new technological advances have changed movies forever. It’s a simple fact: computer technology is the future. Whether that’s a good or bad thing is an argument I’ll save for another time, but there’s no doubt that the old tradition of the Hollywood epic is a dying art. The closest thing we’ll get is a mixture of the old and new, like what we saw in The Lord of the Rings trilogy or Ridley Scott’s Kingdom of Heaven. Those films use digital imagery, yes, but the general concept is still the grand, old-fashioned Hollywood adventure. But there’s really nothing like Lawrence of Arabia. How can you talk about this film without madly singing its praises? Lawrence of Arabia is a celebration of film’s magnificence. It’s the pinnacle of the medium - among the greatest of all movies. You’re not watching Peter O’Toole in the desert; you’re in the desert with Peter O’Toole. The massive scope is beyond astonishing, and I hope I eventually get the chance to see this thing is glorious 70mm. This is just a breathtaking accomplishment.

 

The Yakuza - Sydney Pollack
I’m fascinated by this 1974 thriller with Robert Mitchum as a man who returns to Tokyo so settle an affair that involves some Japanese criminals. It’s written by Paul Schrader (Taxi Driver) and Robert Towne (Chinatown), and directed by the very capable Sydney Pollack (Three Days of the Condor, They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?). And as I’ve mentioned, it stars the legendary Robert Mitchum and also the great Japanese actors Ken Takakura and Keiko Kishi. It even has a cameo by James Shigeta, who Sam Fuller fans will know from The Crimson Kimono. It’s fascinating because The Yakuza is one of the worst movies I have ever seen. This film is so inept and embarrassing that I have to naturally wonder what the fuck happened. The performances are hilariously bad and the treatment of Japanese culture is painfully obvious and pedestrian. You have a character I’ll refer to as Mr. Exposition translate the meaning of certain customs and situations, stuff like “this is a katana, it’s very sharp” or “it’s a matter of loyalty and honor, he owes him his life!” and so on. My guess is that Schrader, Towne and Pollack were purposely making the worst possible movie for kicks, something a b-movie crowd would enjoy at some midnight screening. That’s the only way this thing makes any sense.