Rating: 4 Out Of 10 PhilosoGuys

It is a rarity in today’s film scene for a science fiction film to be made without much computer generated idiocy (Avatar, for example). Science fiction used to mean something more than outer space dog fights and ridiculous aliens: it used to concern the human condition when faced with the rise of immense technological forces. Classics like 2001: A Space Odyssey and recent masterpieces like A.I. Artificial Intelligence (both written by Kubrik) succeed because we can relate: because we relate to the humanity of the characters we can question and ponder the great questions of human experience.

Needless to say, Repo Man does not call on us to question how the fabric of society will be altered through the rise of artificial organs and banking conglomerates. However, it does set the stage adequately for the audience to consider a future in which corporate interests control your humanity (something the facebook fanatics and twitter psychos readily surrender).

Visually, the movie is minimalistic and sparse in its infusion of science fiction into suburban Canada. Its best scene is when Jude Law and his female accomplice stumble into a robotic organ construction room. The room and its workers are covered in white: the action scene and destruction wreaked on the lab by swarms of security guards with rifles is quite impressive, reminiscent of the tight action scenes of Gamer.

Rating: 8 Out Of 10 PhilosoGuys

“Pol Pot’s Birthday” is a hilarious short film that takes place on Pol Pot’s Birthday as he and his Khmer Rouge army retreat into the jungles of Cambodia following their defeat to the Vietnamese army. The acting is spectacularly comical and dark: Pol Pot’s mood swings and deadpan delivery combined with the awkwardness and helplessness of his companions (the General, the Chef and, my favorite, the Intern) are excellent.

You can find the short here: http://www.babelgum.com/4026495/pol-pots-birthday.html

Rating: 6 Out Of 10 PhilosoGuys

The Coen Brothers are master film makers. Making even just one film as good as Fargo, The Big Lebowski or No Country For Old Men would reserve a place of honor for any filmmaker. it just so happens that the Coen Brothers made all three…

A Serious Man is their latest film, telling the story of a Jewish-American family in the American Midwest. First, it must be said that this film is supposed to be a dark comedy. However, I did not laugh once. I was, at many times uncomfortable, but never in a humorous fashion. That having been said, the protagonist, Professor Larry Gopnik, played by Michael Stuhlbarg, is superb. He is the quintessential existentialism man, finding himself an an absurd and disconnected reality. He is wholly passive, unable to fight against the powers of his surroundings: His narcissistic wife, his airhead son, his shallow daughter and his idiot-savant brother. His only solace is the sanctity of his mathematical world, where numbers and equations provide his only true setting of certainty.

The movie, in its existentialism, is consistent (which is something commendable). Larry cannot find respite from reality in his Jewish faith. His first visit with a rabbi is pointless: the rabbi sees love and salvation in the parking lot of the temple (and Larry clearly cannot relate). The second rabbi, through his parable about a dentist who found Hebrew characters inscribed on the back of one of his patient’s teeth, comes to the verge of imparting knowledge to Larry, only to have his parable dissolve into meaninglessness. Larry himself never gets to the third rabbi, but his son (who is baked out of his mind) meets the rabbi after his bar mitzvah, who says some Jefferson Airplane lyrics, and teaches the boy only a minor lesson: to “Be Good.”

The ending of the film is, perhaps, the most powerful. Larry’s life is culminating and the movie is reaching climax. After spending a large sum of money on lawyer’s fees for the divorce with his wife (that never happened) and for inspecting the property lines at his house (only to have the inspector die of a heart attack during their meeting) Larry must accept a bribe from an Asian student who was failing Larry’s class. This all occurs in the shadow of a tenure hearing, which Larry finds out has deemed it appropriate to grant him tenure. This would have ended the story on a high note except that Larry is called into his doctor’s office to discuss his stomach x-rays that were taken at the beginning of the film.

While Larry learns of this news, his son’s school is evacuated in response to a tornado threat in the area. While his teacher bumbles for the keys to open the emergency shelter door, Danny Gopnik looks own as the tornado, a mere football field away, approaches. This whirlwind is an excellent ending: its uncontrollable nature and power are symbolic of the same exact powers this world holds over us all.

A Serious Man is a consistent film. It is also somewhat boring and, in the end, the viewer is left exactly where he began (which is where the Coen Brothers want you): understanding nothing. Ultimately, this begs the question: why bother watching it? The movie is worth watching but it is not up to par with other Coen Brother films, don’t expect a Fargo here.

Rating: 10 Out Of 10 PhilosoGuys

David Lean’s masterpiece, Lawrence of Arabia, is many movie genres in one. It is part historical study of World War One military operations in the Middle East. It is part political drama as Brits and Arabs vie for power in the coming vacuum of Turkish defeat. It is part war epic, including impressive battle scenes, expensive special effects, masterful shots of barren desert, and the heroic feats of T.E. Lawrence and his Arab armies. Finally, it is also an amazing character piece and psychological study of one of the most controversial, heroic and memorable figures in modern history, T.E. Lawrence.

It is this aspect of the movie, which is so enjoyable and so well conceived, that has made Lawrence of Arabia so memorable to this viewer. First off, Peter O’Toole’s breakthrough role as T.E. Lawrence is, simply put, amazing. He could not have been casted better for this mammoth task. Everything he does, from his aloof days spent painting maps in Egypt, or his feminine twirls in Arab garb and dangerous trek into the desert to find a missing soldier, is quite awesome. Lawrence was a complex and controversial character and O’Toole worked pure magic in his portrayal of the protagonist.

The first glimpse of Lawrence’s tragic angst and psychological strain is found in his visit to his British commanders that comes after a trip across the Sinai desert. O’Toole portrays the inner conflicts of his character so well: Lawrence is simultaneously terrified by the battles, the death of his servant, and having to murder an Arab to maintain the fragile Arab alliance and in love with the thrills of killing and battle. Especially today, when movies from Apocalypse Now to The Hurt Locker commonly incorporate this same theme, the sheer originality and power of this aspect of the film can be easily overlooked.

Perhaps what is most impressive from this psychological perspective of the film is Lawrence’s transformation in the second act. After being tortured (and presumably raped) by a Turkish commander, Lawrence undergoes a serious upheaval, leaving him a hollow shell of a character once burgeoning with individualism, vitality, and optimism. He becomes disconnected from his previous causes and relationships: His return to the Arab armies, while perceived as the return of a hero by most, is accurately understood by Ali (a brilliant Omar Sharif) as a desperate attempt to free himself from the bondage imposed by his commanders and the Arab cause. Nothing is ever the same after his return: Lawrence ignores prudent tactical advice from Ali, flounders as the leader of the Arab Revolt, and walks away from the war a shattered soul. The tragedy of T.E. Lawrence is the most powerful part of this movie and Lean and O’Toole’s legendary efforts in this end have ensured that Lawrence of Arabia is a timeless work of art.

Bridge on the River Kwai – 10 out of 10 PhilosoGuys

David Lean’s masterpiece about a Japanese Prison Camp in Thailand and the construction of the Burmese Railroad over the Kwai River is as magnificent and important today as it was over 50 years ago. The acting is some of the best this author has ever seen: Sir Alec Guinness’ role as the commanding officer of the British Prisoners is epic. From the first march into the camp, through the torturous days spent in “the oven,” while he takes control of the camp’s bridge construction, and ending in the stunning final scene, Guinness is able to maintain complete believability while embodying the inhumanly stubborn spirit of industriousness of the British Empire. William Holden, the sneaky American caught in between two warring empires, Jack Hawkins, the brilliant British saboteur, and Sessue Hayakawa, the brutal yet pathetic Japanese prison camp commandant, all provide a level of acting depth that is rarely accomplished in most films.

Bridge is also remembered for its multimillion dollar budget that incorporated the construction and destruction of a bridge and the wrecking of a real train. Today, we take this for granted with all the CGI that dominates the big screen. But the large numbers of extras, the construction of a prison camp and the beautiful, on-sight filming of the movie are ten times more magnificent than anything generated in a computer. This kind of movie is a dead breed.

But beyond the superb acting and grandiose scenes, what is just so great about Bridge on the River Kwai? What is oft forgotten in today’s plethora of rip-off films is its stunning originality. Kwai discusses the crisis of the prisoner in wartime, but also of the human need for civilization. On the surface, British soldiers are confronted with the harsh reality of a Japanese prison camp, where the Geneva Convention is largely ignored because Japanese customs are at odds with it. How many of these kinds of POW movies have we seen in our lifetimes? On a deeper level, the true crisis of the film is Guinness’ leadership of the bridge project, which he takes on with zeal and diligence. He is proving to everyone just how great the Brits are, from organization to engineering. The only catch is that the bridge will serve as a supply line to the Japanese offensives against the British forces in India. His blind pursuit and adherence to his European roots, whether it is for the mental health of his troops or his own personal vendetta against the Japanese, leads to a great harm. This is only undone with great sacrifice in the final scene, which illuminates the absurdities of war and questions the roles of civilization and individuality in life: Are they true perspectives or ways of blinding ourselves from darkness.

With all this said and done, it appears that the movie works within the framework of Heart of Darkness . A civilized man is sent into the jungles, to uncivilized people, and slowly, through the mutation of his beliefs and convictions, he is overcome by the primordial monster and left unrecognizable and without morality. Though, in Bridge on the River Kwai, Guinness is released from the hold of barbarism and detonates the explosives on the bridge with his dying body.

Rating: 7 Out Of 10 PhilosoGuys

Less is More

The Hurt Locker is memorable for what it does not do. Unlike contemporary war movies, Hurt Locker does not take sides and does not pass judgment. In fact, one may even contend that it is not a true war movie: there are no grandiose shootouts and no true battle scenes. Interaction with Iraqi civilians is at a minimum, with Beckham taking up perhaps 5 minutes of screen time and the rest of the Iraqi population relegated to sideline videotaping and spectating.

No, Hurt Locker does not fall squarely into the traditional mold of a war movie, and this has been cause for some criticism. Armond White says that the director’s lack of judgment and perspective leave the movie hollow. However, though I almost always agree with White, in this I disagree. It is in this very removal of judgment in the spirit of a traditional war movie mold that gives Hurt Locker its true power.

The bomb squad itself sets the stage for this new perspective: bomb squads are not on the front lines fighting face to face but rather a part of the occupation and nation-building, making Hurt Locker the first true movie of the new era of warfare as we see it evolve.

Hurt Locker is less a film concerned with the justice of any particular war but rather with the study of the effects of war on the human condition. Sergeant James (Jeremy Renner) engages in no true conflict during the course of the movie. He spots a sniper and accidentally shoots his comrade but the only remnant of the adrenaline rush of conflict, as found in “Platoon” or the end of “Apocalypse Now” is found squarely within himself. It is the mental game, the adrenaline rush, and the discipline of the bomb squad responsibilities. The most memorable scenes of the film are found with Renner and his squad mates. The animalistic and drunken fighting scenes, Renner falling asleep in his bomb squad helmet, and the final scene of the film, as Renner walks out of the Hercules transport plane and straight into his bomb squad uniform.

Renner is clearly addicted to the rush of the bomb disposal but it is clear from the direction of the film that it is not portrayed as beneficial or good. It is like watching a heroin addict tempt fate on dirty ghetto streets at gunpoint to get a fix.

The mess, confusion, and solitary treatment of the characters in Hurt Locker is perspective enough. War is hell and, while you may be surrounded by good men and addicted to its adrenaline rush, you must face it alone.

Rating: 3 Out Of 10 PhilosoGuys
Sherlock Holmes is the latest installment of supernatural/Freemason movies that plague the big screen. This time Holmes has a cyberpunk atmosphere that includes chemical weapons. Downey Jr. plays the ingenious but neurotic protagonist, who can be summed up as a cross between Captain Jack Sparrow (feminine, mysterious, and clever) and Tony Stark from Iron Man (the play boy ubermensch). Jude Law is utterly boring (except for the knife in his walking stick). The best scenes are those made of CGI sequences and owe nothing to the acting. Particularly ridiculous and repetitive are Holmes’ thoughts about how he will disarm his opponents in a stairwell and the utterly random and stupid cage-fighting scene. After thinking it all through and seeing the attack it is essentially replayed in fast motion for the audience. This movie belongs in the same category as Transformers and Harry Potter: movies that entertain groupies. It is hard to think about how many Sherlock Holmes novel groupies made it past the early twentieth century.

Rating: 6 Out Of 10 PhilosoGuys

Avatar is visually stunning but leaves much to be wanted in way of story.

The Birth of a Nation is considered one of the best films ever made. Its revolutionary use of cinematography ushered in a new age of movies and revolutionized film. By the way, it was a Ku Klux Klan propaganda film that included white men casted and painted as black Southerners. So, while it is remembered for changing the way movies are made it is not remembered for any significant contribution by way of plot, imagery, or symbolism.

Fast forward to 2009 and witness Avatar, which truly is the most beautiful movie I have ever seen. The landscapes, animals, aliens, and even the human technology are all stunning and realistic. There are some bizarre moments, like alien pony tails that are psychic connections used mind meld aliens with animals and the planet itself, but these are appreciated by this viewer as fitting in nicely with Cameron’s overall portrayal of the alien species as a harmonious and nature-loving/connected race.

What was most impressive was, of course, the 3D technology in the movie. Cameron has spent a lot of time and money developing and shooting this movie in his special way. It has paid off. I have never felt so surrounded by a movie, never felt so utterly a part of the setting of a movie (a tropical alien world) or as much in the crosshairs of missile launchers and rifle fire. Cameron has presented a movie with a 3D experience that is not gimmicky: It is a subtle technique, giving layers of depth to the movie that have truly redefined the film and theater experience. It only remains to be seen if this will be widely adopted, especially in movies not as heavily dependent upon CGI).

By way of story, Cameron has utterly failed. He reuses many of his old gimmicks and is heavy handed with the anti-war imagery (the majority of the script must have been written in the run up and aftermath of Operation Iraqi Freedom). Cameron’s human antagonists, who were utterly mediocre (or in the case of Giovanni Ribisi, just plain bad), symbolize all ‘unjust’ American military action starting with Native American policy and ending with our most recent problems in the Middle East policy and Global Warming. On the other hand, the aliens represent anyone on the receiving end of the stick: Pandora is a planet filled to the brim with a substance, comically named unobtainium, that is also filled with a native population of, what the humans believe to be, ignorant savages (and Cameron really drills this home with those exact words). However, these aliens are actually very in tune with their planet and their main settlement is located on the largest deposit of this material on the planet and the humans want to get it (Middle East and Iraq). What ensues is a “preemptive strike” on the growing number of alien warriors and a “shock and awe” campaign to scare them into hiding. This causes a trail of tears scene with the fleeing refugee aliens after a 9/11-esque bombing of a skyscraper tree. Meanwhile, one of the soldiers has moved his mind into an alien body and has “gone native” by learning the ways of the aliens and then coming to lead them against the humans. What ensues is scenes straight out of a Vietnam war movie complete with marines jumping out of futuristic black hawks and jungle snipers (with bows and arrows).

Just like “Birth of a Nation,” Avatar will be remembered for its revolutionary visual techniques, resulting from stunning CGI and 3D technology. It will not, however, be remembered for anything substantial by way of plot, message, or symbolism. Cameron is a good director but not so great a screenwriter. He so is heavy handed with anti-war, anti-climate change, and anti-capitalism that it makes the dialogue just plain stupid. The subtly of his 3D camera seems to have sucked all subtly out of his writing.