The Assassin (2015)

This might have the least action of any martial arts film ever. The fight scenes are few, and quite short. I think you need to know what you're walking into, because if you're expecting an adrenaline-filled violent movie (it is bloodless), you're not going to get it here--but that doesn't detract from the artistry of Hou Hsiao-Hsien. The film opens with three black-and-white vignettes, beautifully paced, introducing us to Yinniang. It only gets slower from there. It's a slow burn. You are given time to appreciate the scenery, the absolutely stunning camerawork by Mark Lee Ping-Bin. Every frame is so carefully crafted. There are often frames within frames, obstructed views. The action often takes place in the background, with a veil over the foreground. The camera is very still, it lingers for longer than it has to. But each shot is composed to leave room in the background for ongoing movement in the scene. I admit I did not follow the story. I got it all in the first half, but then it started to lose me. But frankly, it doesn't really matter. You get the major plot points, but it's not about plot, and it's not about action. So what is it about? It's about conveying mood and beauty through visuals, and in that it succeeds. 

Wings (1927)

I caught a free Veterans Day screening of this first Best Picture winner at AFI Silver in Silver Springs, MD with live piano accompaniment. There was a fifteen minute intermission (the second half of the movie is much more exciting), but this pianist played 2.5 hours of music synced to a silent movie, turning her own pages, vamping a bit. It was very impressive. The composer was apparently a student of Dvorak. It is consequentially very melodic. In a silent movie, facial expressions and music have to pull double duty to convey emotion.

This early movie is not just a war film. It is a melodramatic character study. There are a significant number of non-battle scenes that show character evolution. I must say, I was not a fan of our hero, Jack. I know he's supposed to be our American hero, but he treats everyone terribly. Sylvia and David tiptoe around him so as not to hurt his feelings while he has no regard for theirs. I know he's supposed to be the scrappy hero that gets the girl, but he doesn't deserve any of this. He even gets Mary fired! And he can't hold his liquor--that was a weird scene. Also, they get away with some stuff in this pre-Code era.

Visually, it is a very impressive movie. There is the famous scene at the nightclub, with the rigged camera that moves towards our hero seemingly pushing straight through a set of tables and guests. The early scene with the camera on the swing is charming. The climactic battle scene is extraordinary. The number of extras alone, before computers could generate them, is astounding. You see them shooting guns and dropping bombs, crashing planes and causing all this destruction, and you wonder, how did they not kill anyone? It looks so real because it is--how did they do that? And then after reading Wikipedia, I discovered they actually did kill someone. There were two accidents, one fatal. I was even wondering how they got these huge 1920s era cameras on planes? The aerial dog-fighting scenes are incredible for the 1920s. Dunkirk, being in the computer era, is comparatively less impressive. The gunfire is painted in red onto the film, which I'm guessing was only in the restoration.

Good Time (2017)

This is an intense heist movie that takes place in gritty Queens. Robert Pattinson, who has become quite the actor, robs a bank with his mentally challenged brother, who he must free from jail. Basically, anything that can go wrong goes horribly wrong. It's really intense because you're just waiting for the next thing to spiral out of control. It's a combination of the (very) shaky, uncomfortably close camerawork and the unnerving music and Robert Pattinson's frenetic acting that keeps you at the edge of your seat. The dark and shadowy lighting is ominous. I think my heart rate was actually elevated throughout this movie, tensely quivering in anticipation. 

Swagger (2016)

I saw this one at the newly restored Parkway Theater in Baltimore (though in a smaller theater, not the main one) as part of the Young French Cinema Film Festival curated by Professor Mason. It actually screened in the ACID sidebar at Cannes the year I was there. I'm really glad I went to Baltimore to see it because this deeply affecting film was just beautiful. It's a documentary that explores the lives of young African and Arab (and one Indian) schoolkids living in the suburbs of Paris. The banlieue (suburbs) of Paris are notoriously poor and dangerous and non-white. This documentary is refreshing in that it doesn't focus on the negatives. It rather humanizes these children. Olivier Babinet earns their trust and gets the kids to open up and talk honestly, frankly and unreservedly. We hear stories, funny and sad, of these children that no one else listen to. There's this one really magical moment in the middle of the film. We've been hearing from Aissatou who is very shy. We learn that she was abused as a kindergarten student and she doesn't have many friends. But she has chosen to open up to Babinet, and after being unable to even introduce herself on camera, averting her eyes from the lens, she finally looks up into the camera and smiles. You really feel for these kids. The soundtrack is simultaneously haunting and hopeful. It's a really beautiful accompanying soundtrack that matches the tone of the film. The interviews are beautifully shot, and interspersed with silent shots of the other kids, almost as if they're there listening. But we know that they're not.  In a way, this leads us to believe that their stories, though unique, are universally shared experiences. They become part of a community, something bigger than themselves, more than what they could've ever imagined. It gives them hope. I would remiss if I didn't mention the two most memorable scenes. The first is Regis, sashaying into school in his big fur coat with swagger and style galore. The second is Paul, who confidently dances own the street, lipsync-ing like no one is listening (something that I imagine myself doing sometimes--I don't; but I think this looks good on camera with good, fun choreography).

Baby Driver (2017)

Baby Driver feels fresh thanks to Edgar Wright's smart and stylish direction. He brings together slick editing to the beat of a sick soundtrack and brilliant choreography. The beginning of the film has a fantastic tracking shot that sets the exciting tone for the rest of the movie. Is Ansel Elgort cool? Wright makes him cool and he makes an extraordinarily fun and enjoyable movie.

The Meyerowitz Stories (New and Selected) (2017)

There was something really unexpectedly sweet about this family dramedy. I admit that I'm not all that familiar with Noah Baumbach's work but I'm going to describe this as Woody Allen meets Hirokazu Kore-eda. It has the liberal upper-class Manhattan sensibilities of Allen, and the bittersweet family saga of Kore-eda. I used to watch Woody Allen films wondering if that's really how rich, privileged, cultured white people live. I think it's something I aspired to, but I now think that version of affluence is not necessarily attainable or maybe not even desirable--the Meyerowitz's are pretty messed up. Their family dynamic is all over the place. They talk fast over each other (a very cleverly written, difficult-to-execute script) and there is lots of yelling. But they are compelling. These were perhaps the best performances ever delivered by Adam Sandler and Ben Stiller. Comedic actors, they manage a balance between their usual shtick and family drama. It's funny, it's sweet, and emotional at the same time. 

Rashomon (1950)

I was slightly underwhelmed by what some would call the greatest film of all time. The acting is highly exaggerated, hysterical by all parties. I find it interesting that it is sort of in contrast to the typically understated acting in contemporary Japanese films. Kurosawa is a master of storytelling. The film has entered into the common lexicon for its innovative storytelling, four alternative versions of the same story. Who knows which story is true? If any of them are true? Or if they are all embellished truth? Everyone has their own verita. That's not the point. The film gets at something deeper, about human nature. Humans are self serving and our recollections reflect that. The movie dates itself with its gross gender politics. To the modern viewer, it's a little cringy how the woman is made to blame in all versions of the story.