TIFF Review: THE SKY CRAWLERS
Posted by Kurt Halfyard at 4:28pm.
Posted in Film & DVD Reviews , Animation, Sci-Fi & Fantasy, Asia, Toronto Film Festival 2008.
“Somewhere, in a country similar to ours There are children who do not become adults. They are very similar to us.” goes the tagline of Mamoru Oshii‘s latest film. One that carried the promise (during its production cycle) of a more linear form of story telling after the convoluted Ghost in the Shell: Innocence and the strange Tachigui. I am overjoyed to report that while the story is linear, it is anything but straightforward or simple, and not the least bit diluted or dumbed down in regards to his philosophical and social musings - basically the essence of what makes Oshii stand out from his generation of masters of the Japanese animated feature. Using a pastiche of elements of contemporary science fiction (From Ender’s Game to Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep) mashed up with stirring World War II aerial dogfights and a his unique brand of austere and cold melodrama, The Sky Crawlers certainly will not be for everyone. The film is a feast for the senses, not only in the gargantuan fighter plane battles, which may be safe to say are the best ever committed to celluloid (and yes, that includes Hell’s Angels and the space climaxes of any of the best of the Star Wars pictures). This is true in ever single detail of the film (Production I.G. have outdone themselves!) even the small moments: The cigarette smoke swirls, a Vespa engine hums as it idles, the airplane hangars and living quarters are textured, lived in, and the apple pie and coffee diners are gorgeously rendered down to the most minute detail. And the sound design (courtesy of Skywalker Sound) is among the best work they have ever done.
But wait, much this technical praise could be more or less said of, say, Katsuhiro Ôtomo‘s equally well crafted Steam Boy, and that movie was more or less a failure due to overly convoluted and stilted story telling. The narrative may be cool and deliberately paced for a film with designs on a gigantic canvas, but that dovetails beautifully with the story Oshii is trying to tell (call it the antithesis of Hayao Miyazaki‘s similar setting, but radically different Porco Rosso). Make no mistake, this is social science fiction, and tonally controlled storytelling at its finest.
For lovers of both the whimsical freeform and bittersweet intimate films of Studio Ghibli (My Neighbor Tortoro and Grave of the Fireflies for instance), there will be a lot to love in So Yong Kim‘s semi-autobiographical childhood film Treeless Mountain. It makes a finely articulated plea for the rejuvenating aspects of simple living over urban malaise; but more importantly, it is a showcase for the fragile dignity of children.
Much like the release pattern of indie produced Bubba Ho Tep, Bruce Campbell‘s latest lure to his fan base, the goofy meta-laden My Name is Bruce, is getting a slow ‘tour date’ style roll out release. The first date is in Austin with the Ain’t it Cool News folks at the Alamo Drafthouse on October 26th. Then it (I’m assuming a single print) slowly makes its way across the wide US of A.
After the cult success of Rian Johnson‘s debut feature, the stylish high-school noir, Brick, A-list stars and a much bigger budget were sure to follow. The Brothers Bloom was filmed in a variety European and North American locations and things look fabulously bright and breezy on the big screen. Unfortunately, a mild case of the sophomore slump is in place, as the new con artist caper film never quite lives up to the promise of its opening moments and gets mired down a bit by cleverness for cleverness sake. It would be unfair to tag the film with the hubris of Guy Richie’s Revolver because it seems clear that Johnson was aiming for a whimsical light-hearted touch, but the film unfortunately does share glossy posturing and pseudo intellectual chest thumping whilst simultaneously lacking any desired emotional (or intellectual) payoff. Things are fun enough while the film unspools, but there is no sense of click (while there was with Brick) and the whole affair is simply forgettable by the time the end credits have finished rolling.
While I find it amusing that Canadian pop artist Feist is featured prominently in a film celebrating the boroughs and atmosphere of New York City, the trailer for New York, I Love You (making its debut at the Toronto International Film Festival in a few weeks) is embedded after the Jump.
The third and final part of Jay Cheel’s faux-documentary (now officially outed in the final credits which drop the ‘viral’ ruse) concerning the implications and speculations on discovery of a mechanical A.I. being in the snowy regions of Norway, is now online. While this is a supporting piece of marketing for an X-Box game of all things, any sort of actual marketing message plays a distant second to mood and aesthetics. From half-glanced looks at the artifiact to hearing the ‘experts’ speak, there is a sense of wonder captured here. When things looks this gorgeous and eccentric (think Errol Morris meets John Carpenter), one simply has to share. The entire short documentary is now available on the ‘Norwegian Film Committee’ website.
Let me just begin with the fact that I am loving the ‘re-discovery’ of Peter Watkins‘ filmography on DVD. A good number of his films seemed to have skipped both repertory cinema and VHS (outside of rare and ratty VHS dubs) and remain only vaguely remembered, excluding of his Oscar winning The War Game, until the touring retrospective in 2005 which made stops in New York and Toronto. As Terry Gilliam seems to amass a number of failed projects via large ambitions and curiously bad karma, Watkins seems to court distribution roadblocks with the combination of innovative narrative techniques (off-putting to mainstream acceptance) and confrontational up-to-the-minute politics (off-putting to conservative distributors). To say that Watkins‘ films were ahead of their time is an understatement. A gross one. It is interesting that cinephiles are only catching up Watkins‘ work while the themes captured in his films are just as resonant and relevant today, in the case of Punishment Park (
New Yorker Video, who have been releasing Watkin‘s filmography in their “The Cinema of Peter Watkins” series offer a quality transfer. The 35mm (a form Watkins rarely worked in) colour cinematography is richly rendered against a clear mono soundtrack. Included on the disc is the 26 minute Canadian NFB documentary on teen idol Paul Anka titled Lonely Boy, which Watkins used as a template for his film. While the absence of a commentary track is a bit of a letdown, this is more than made up for with the inclusion 40 page booklet containing a 2008 self-interview with Peter Watkins, several critical essays on the film by Watkins‘ expert Joseph A. Gomez, and a short piece on teen idolatry, Lonely Boy and Paul Anka.
Beating the ambitions of Quentin Tarantino to the punch by what looks to be an ultra-polished version of Faster Pussycat! Kill! Kill! (complete with crazy camera angles, remote desert ranches, and busty gals kicking mighty man-butt) comes the not-nearly-as-great-titled, Bitch Slap. Here is hoping that director Rick Jacobson is not limited to just injecting Michael Bay-isms and modern speed-ramp cinematography into the mix, which this trailer implies.
If there is one thing that Fantasia 2008 has taught me, it is that there are so many, many compelling nooks and crannies for the post-apocalyptic film yet to mine despite the slew of them over the past few years. If anything, these films are getting better and better as we go along!
Welcome to the ‘green edition’ of the Twitch-O-Meter. From Al Gore to Wall•E, the environment is on peoples minds and it has been a common theme in all genres and types of movies over the past few years. Heck, even Hellboy is faced with the choice to kill a Forest god, (shades of Mononoke Hime) in the latest Guillermo Del Toro blockbuster, resulting in a gorgeous fusion of city and fauna that will take your breath away, in a melancholy fashion. Sometimes a simple plea of a few documentarians, activists and politicos is not enough though, and filmmakers have to show a little of the nasty side of nature. That is to say in the films below, the environment sees fit to reduce, reuse and recycle the protagonists in some-times gory, but more often then not, in mysteriously indifferent ways. Jeff Goldblum had it right when he cautioned a certain dinosaur theme-park owner to respect the awesome power of nature. Well that and the little known fact of Mother Gaia occasionally holding a grudge.
There are too many post-apocalyptic films to name, just ask the fine fellows over at The Quiet Earth blog who have a sprawling website dedicated to covering hundreds and hundreds of films that probe every corner of the genre. This type of film has been a staple of cinema since the first adaptation of Richard Matheson‘s novella, I Am Legend as the The Last Man On Earth starring Vincent Price. Follow that through the Planet of the Apes cycle of films and George Romero‘s ‘Dead’ series all the way up to the modern remakes of those very films and multitudes of everthing in between. The ‘lone man’ and society crumbling aspects more than a little mimic much of the elements of the Western (from Mad Max to likely the upcoming The Road), and one can perhaps wonder if somewhere the transition from making westerns to post-apocalyptic films (a new, rougher frontier) resulted in the tapering off of the most iconic of American film genres. Certainly in the 21st century there is no shortage of post-apocalyptic films. In fact, the past few years seem to be a landmark era for the genre allowing a variety of writers probe different corners and aspects of that type of film. Furthermore, more the rise of the disaster and epidemic film or more succinctly the ‘during the apocalypse’ films has many entries as well, usually the film would involve a search for a cure or a way to stop doomsday from arriving. However there are relatively few films that focus on a coming apocalypse that has zero chances to be stopped, and purely focus on the futility of things. Ooooh, nihilism.
We’ve been tracking Nikita ”Burnt by the Sun” Mikhalkov‘s Russian contextualization of Sidney Lumet‘s classic 12 Angry Men for a while around here. One of the writers around these parts, who will remain unnamed, has seen it and loved it, but is holding back with the reviewage for some reason! (For this he should be punished.) 12 is one remake that is a great thing (even Oscar seemed to think so by giving it a nomination), the source material being perhaps one of most beloved ‘single room’ movie (see 
Juan has it all; a beautiful and caring wife, a healthy new infant and good job as a sports reporter at a large newspaper. He is a sensitive and competent husband, a man who comes back into the room after an small disagreement to say that he hates people who stalk off angry. He dotes on his wife and child. His happy family has just moved into a large fixer-upper home in an upscale neighborhood and out of their cramped apartment. Can life be so good that that one starts to question if that is fair while others suffer? Sonia, swimming in the haze of exhaustion and anxiety that affects all new parents, asks just that question. Some questions should not be asked if for no reason that simply cannot be unasked and we are in a horror movie after all. That is to say that some fixer-upper homes sold at a low price in a classy part of town are cheap for a reason. Yes, The Baby’s Room (La Habitación del Niño) is one of those haunted house stories featuring things that go bump in the night, but what sets it apart is that it has a lot to ideas stuffed under the bed with the phantasms. There is plenty to chew on in between the tension.
A brief (but densely packed) stint, pour moi, at Montreal based Fantasia Festival has come to a close. Montreal is a busy town this time of year, up to its ears in festivals. A Caribbean Festival parade butts up against the southern border of Fantasia and The Montreal International Jazz Festival is woven in between. There is such a sprawling volume of cinema contained on the festivals three screens all day and night, that those darkened rooms easily beckon one away for the hustle and bustle of Crescent Street into a host of other, stranger, worlds.
I don’t know if a science-fiction movie should be judged by the casting of its fictional president, because well that would make Deep Impact (Morgan Freeman) or Independence Day (Bill Pullman) seem like half-way decent entertainment. But I have to admire the chutzpah of placing Fred Willard as the President/CEO of Earth in Pixar’s WallE. Rare that an actors face shows up in one of Pixar’s CGI films, even if it is ‘archival footage.’ Nevertheless, Willard’s all-smiles, no brains (but really there is a brain) vintage comedy fits perfectly into the science fiction tale where big box stores, privatization and consumer detritus have made life on earth forfeit. That all is left is a single garbage handling unit (well and his cockroach companion, natch) who is all the lonelier for having as his only emotional anchor the innocent and saccharine Hello Dolly! If holding hands while staring into your partners eyes is the ultimate physical expression of true love, then WallE, with his large grips and larger puppy-dog eyes seems born to do so.