Auteur Review: Lars von Trier. Part 1 - Becoming the Experimental & Technical Master - by Benji Stinson

*Review by assistant staff member Benji Stinson

The goal of the "Auteur Review" is to showcase a succinct yet detailed timeline of progression for the director in focus. A quick synopsis of the films, their high and low points.

A retrospective of Lars von Trier from rare to well-known. Part 1 of the "Auteur Review" examines Lars von Trier's earliest films which comprise of his more classical experimental approaches to cinema.

The Trip To Squashland (Turen til Squashland). 1967. Runtime 2:01.

Synopsis: I'm the whimsical stop-motion world of Squashland, we hear the sing along tune of a squash helping rabbits.

Reflections: A fun, catchy, cute short made by 11 year old Lars. Stop motion is a long process and I can only imagine this to be a massive undertaking for a young child. A sign of things to come.

Grade: 4.0

----

The Orchid Gardener (Orchidégartneren). 1977. Runtime 35:17.

Synopsis: A young man's growing obsession with death as he pursues his love, a sadistic nurse at the psych ward he attends.

Reflections: An interesting study in experimental filmmaking and black and white photography. Lars' ability to portray complex emotions gives this short film some substance. Weak points include lack of refinement and slow pacing.

Grade: 4.0

----

Befrielsesbilleder. 1982. Runtime 57 minutes.

Synopsis: Missing subtitles and not speaking Danish, I could only surmise that this film is about a relationship between a Nazi and an American spy set against the backdrop theme of the horrors of war.

Reflections: Great cinematography, solid minimalist acting. Stylistically this film is the precursor to The Element of Crime, especially the first half. This would be Lars von Trier's graduation film, setting him lose to wreak havoc upon European cinema.

Grade: 6.1

----

The Element of Crime. 1984. Runtime 1 hour, 43 minutes.

Synopsis: Post apocalyptic noir sets the stage for a murder investigation led by hard boiled Detective Fisher. Fisher's method of investigation is following in the footsteps of the murderer in order to understand and arrest him. The environment and mood is eerie and haunting.

Reflections: The Element of Crime is defined by masterful and imaginative cinematography making it one of the greatest experimental films ever to grace the screen. The only negative I can highlight is a slow pace and a somewhat undefined ending. The film is an early Lars von Trier masterpiece and the height of his classical style of experimental filmmaking (a style which would conclude with Europa). The Element of Crime would be Lars von Trier's first nomination for the Palme d'Or.

Grade: 8.8

----

Epidemic. 1987. Runtime 1 hour, 46 minutes.

Synopsis: Lars and Niels are printing out a screenplay to turn in for their upcoming deadline. The screenplay fails to print and it becomes clear why, it was erased. The duo decide they didn't much like the script anyway and embark on writing Epidemic. During the writing process, the two begin to get sick and the sickness progresses as we cut to scenes from the script the two are writing.

Reflections: Part two of Lars so called 'Europa Trilogy', Epidemic is a major step backwards from part one of the trilogy, The Element of Crime. Cinematography is not as imaginative and the story drags. The coolest thing about epidemic is that its structure is a clever concept to make a low budget film, and the acting is a high point. The final scene is a saving grace as well.

Grade: 4.2

----

Medea. 1988. Runtime 1 hour, 17 minutes.

Synopsis: A retelling of the Greek classic tragedy Medea. A younger devilish Udo Kier plays Jason who married a young bride, despite currently having a wife - Medea. Revenge ensues.

Reflections: The film feels very sparse, in content and set. Set design is often minimalist but effective. The film is shot at a slow, brooding pace, perhaps to stretch material for a 30 minute short film into a feature. Unfortunately the result is very boring. Still, inspired cinematography surfaces throughout.

Strong, minimalist, deadpan acting is strong. The poor quality copy floating around can only hint at how sweet this film might look - a proper restoration would perhaps be worth giving this film a re-watch. Medea is the first surfacing of what would become Lars lead archetype, a strong clever woman who overcomes her circumstances.

Grade: 5.9

----

Europa. 1991. Runtime 1 hour, 52 minutes.

Synopsis: At the end of the war a handful of Nazi "Werewolves" continue clandestinely to kill Germans who aided the Allied Forces during the war. An American general has genuine interests in rebuilding the country. Train service attendant Leopold Kessler is caught in the middle of the politicking, pressuring him to choose sides.

Reflections: Europa is beautifully and imaginatively shot, primarily in black and white. A hypnotherapist instructs us to become Kessler, narrating his story and projecting it onto the viewer's gaze. Kessler's neutral and boring character provides a nice clean slate to reflect the audiences emotions into.

However this neutrality ultimately results in an uncompelling protagonist, and therefore an overall unsatisfying viewing experience, despite an immaculate technical and interesting experimental presentation. The film won three prizes at Cannes, but lost the Palme d'Or to a film with an equally uncompelling lead character, Barton Fink (Barton Fink).

Grade: 7.0

The Hateful Eight (2015), Directed by Quentin Tarantino Review

Is The Hateful Eight simply another exploitation film? An overlong 3 hour ride climaxing into a senseless bloodbath? A misogynistic, racist ramble? Conclusion to all; no. One morbid punchline after another builds up to an elevated level of tension and shock value (even by Tarantino standards). The Hateful 8 manages to hold audience's attention with hardly any change in environment. Seeing as how it lacks a variety of locations, it is primarily a character driven plot; the sets literally act as a sedentary backgrounds through which the characters interact. The first act, outdoors during a blizzard in the middle of Wyoming, kicks off when bounty hunter John Ruth (Kurt Russell) reluctantly picks up another notorious bounty hunter, Major Marquis Warren. Ruth is "in possession" of a female prisoner Daisy Domerguis (Jennifer Jason Leigh), worth $10,000 to hang. From here they stumble across the alleged to-be sheriff of Red Rock Chris Mannix (Walton Goggins). One their way to Red Rock, they stop at "Minnie's Haberdashery," after which almost the remainder of the film takes place.


Being a character driven film, The Hateful Eight fortunately sports an impressive array of actors and Tarantino regulars; most notably Samuel L. Jackson and Kurt Russell. Russell breaks the mold of his hollywood tough-guy persona as John "The Hangman" Ruth, a comically disgruntled bounty hunter with his own odd code of ethics. Russell's humorous and enigmatic execution of the brash John Ruth makes him dangerously close to likeable, despite the fact he is far from a moral icon. Jackson, also a bounty hunter, doesn't stray too far out of his comfort zone as the comically crass "bad ass motherfucker." This is hardly negative however; Jackson has become a household name in modern cinema whose intense larger-than-life personality drives most of his characters's strength with ingenuity. This holds especially true for his past performances in Tarantino's other films.


The chemistry between Jackson's crudely comical Major Marquis Warren and Russell's sincerely buffoonish John Ruth plays an important dynamic in driving the film's first act. In the second act, we witness firsthand the extents to which Warren's ruthless and sociopathic behavior stretch to achieve true revenge. In the third act, he has ironically solidified himself as one of the story's heroes, alongside the unexpected Sheriff Chris Mannix. Walter Goggins also delivers a lively performance, just the right measure of hokeyness, and depicts Mannix's evolution from a simple minded enforcer of the law to a reasonably virtuous man in a convincing manner. 


The supporting cast competently aids in keeping the momentum consistent. Tim Roth sports a goofy British accent as Oswaldo Mobray, or the "The Tiny Man." Demián Bichir does well keeping it subtle as "Senor Bob." Staying out of consistent site, Bob is still integral to the progression. His sense as a background character is perfectly encompassed in his "recital" of "Silent Night," serving as a wonderfully ironic background piece during Jackson's sadistic soliloquy to General Sandy Smithers (Bruce Dern); a story of untethered rage and revenge, involving human degradation and forced copulation toward General Smithers' son. Michael Madsen welcomingly plays essentially the same eloquently doltish degenerate as in Reservoir Dogs and Kill Bill. Jennifer Jason Leigh's "Daisy" is an obnoxiously free spirited murderess, whose character transforms seamlessly from deftly devious to dangerously venomous.


Prolific Italian musical mastermind Ennio Morricone (The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, The Thing) composes a subliminally stellar score. Eight's score is arguably one of the film's strongest elements. It is no coincidence that The Hateful Eight's soundtrack bears a striking resemblance to his work in John Carpenter's horror classic The Thing (1982). Multiple sources indicate some of Morricone's material for Eight is, in fact, unused work recompiled from The Thing. Like Tarantino's other referential tactics, which, when carried out well mesh effortlessly in tandem with Tarantino's original source material.


Seeing as how this is Tarantino's self proclaimed eighth major film, it would only be appropriate to conclude this review by comparing The Hateful Eight to few of his earlier titles. Although the intelligent allegory to powerful personalities and classes during the The Civil War is acknowledgable, it is not quite as narratively inventive as Pulp Fiction. It doesn't quite stack up to the twisted kinetic energy of Inglorious Basterds and Kill Bill. It is not as thoroughly entertaining as Jackie Brown. It is assuredly better than the embarrassing Death Proof, and probably on par with Django Unchained.

Stylistically, it succeeds with a minimal color palette and limited locations. The visuals are characteristic of Tarantino's better work; occasionally inventive and frequently engaging. All considered, it makes for hella good entertainment and is currently one of the more enthralling films you can still catch on the silver screen.

Overall: 8.5/10

"Blue Collar" (1978), Directed by Paul Schrader: Film Review and Analysis

Paul Schrader, Writer/Director/Composer/Producer/Actor extraordinaire has had a rich career to say the least, filled with brilliant screenplays, particularly his efforts with director legend Martin Scorsese. Both "Taxi Driver" and "Raging Bull" (co-written with Mardik Martin) were nominated for Best Picture. Writing is without a doubt a strong suit of his. Schrader should (and likely does) wear a pen at all times. Even if he has arguably reached his peak eons ago, his body of work forms an important chapter in film history.

Schrader's scathing minimalistic directorial adaptation of his own screenplay, Blue Collar is a tightly wound, abrasive, thought provoking, occasionally funny film with universal commentary on the effects of social class and money on friendship and family. It is a vicious social satire that also does not take itself too seriously.

"Fuck Uncle Sam!"

The concept of the so-called blue collar working class being put down by the white collar man for a movie is nothing particularly groundbreaking or original, but Blue Collar is much too sharp to be considered cliche. Anyone can read a cookbook to produce an average meal, but only a master chef can take the same recipe and make it gourmet. Schrader not only has a good recipe to start with, but he spices it up with just the right blend of political and emotional drama, dark comedy and tense situations to craft a thought provoking work of art.

The opening credits thrust us into the hustle and bustle of the plant, the three protagonists' second home. Captain Beefheart's bombastically bluesy, rough-hided "Hard Workin' Man" drives the imagery rather than simply fade into background music. Beefheart's gruff vocals and lyrics paint an image of a weathered and hardened man of with enough wisdom and physical drive to make up for academic interest with lyrics like "When I was a school boy /  teacher said study as hard as you can / It didn't make no difference / I'm just a hard workin' man," spot on for Smokey's character.

The heavy machinery complements the pounding percussion, the pervasive electric guitar punches like power tool, and the harmonica sings the song of a hardened heart full of dread and despair. Beefheart also has a similar song from his early catalogue "Plastic Factory," a song similar both stylistically and lyrically. "Fac'trys no place for me / Boss man let me be," says Beefheart. These two simple lines succinctly sum up much of the films complex thematic elements.

Zeke sells his soul.

Character development and dynamic is undoubtedly a strength of Schrader's as can be seen in Taxi Driver and Raging Bull, exemplified equally as well in Blue Collar. Although there are three primary protagonists in the film, the plot focuses primarily on the personal lives of Zeke and Jerry. Smokey, the only unmarried man of the group, utilizes his individuality to become the bandit leader of the trio, a rabid Robin Hood with a sordid past. His shrewd street wisdom and rock hard disposition form more of a cynic than Zeke and Jerry combined.

Ruthless tendencies aside, Zeke is a loving father and husband, despite a scene of brief infidelity at a get together with his two friends (to be expound upon later). He is an ambitious man who seems much too overqualified for the grunt job he has worked for years to support himself and his family. He is frustrated about the color of his skin repressing his potential in life. Zeke knows that he is smarter, more shrewd than even his bosses, his alleged superiors and isn't afraid to show it.

Getting dressed for Halloween

The actors breathe life into Blue Collar's "oreo gang," a name coined by media speculators for the trio. Performances are strong in both lead and supporting roles, an all around well acted film. The real standout of the movie is Richard Pryor. Harvey Keitel, deservedly lauded for much of his other work (see review for Bad Lieutenant), is more subtle in Blue Collar than with many of his other cage shattering performances. His selfless caring nature, exemplified ironically by his decision to participate in an impromptu robbery simply to buy his daughter braces, contrasts with Zeke's more self-absorbed and borderline ruthless demeanor.

Before selling out to The Union, Zeke explains to Jerry how he's "thinkin' white." When asked what this meant to him, Zeke feels that Jerry has many more chances than him, and always will. Zeke sees this as his only chance, and he is determined to take it. He continues: "I'm black, Jerry. The police aren't gonna protect me. Six months after this fuckin' thing's over I'll be right back where I started from, living in some ghetto up to my black ass in bills wondering what night they're gonna come and kill the kids, Carolyn and myself." At this point he genuinely believes he can make changes within the union as foreman.

A true blue collar man

Schrader in the end, just as the foreshadowing narrative by Smokey in the opening, has pit the two together in a conflict of which neither Jerry or Zeke is necessarily good or bad, right or wrong. Destiny has dictated different paths for the former blood brothers. In the end, Zeke and Jerry point fingers at each other as if pointing at themselves in the mirror, by extension making accusations of themselves.

Blue Collar is a white collar high class achievement for Paul Schrader, as both director and screenwriter. The props don't stop there without mentioning the stellar cast and pacing. An underrated and often neglected film with complex insight into human nature's proclivity for selfishness.

Overall Grade: 8.9/10

"The Wicker Man" (1973), Directed by Robin Hardy

Robin Hardy’s The Wicker Man is an exceptional exercise in Freudian horror. Rather than rely on supernatural spooks and scares, Wicker Man silently penetrates our inner psyche. A handful of societal and religious taboos thrust us into an alien world which embrace these radical cultural concepts. Much like our protagonist Sergeant Howie, it is a difficult adjustment. The tenuous grasp on a familiar reality creates an overwhelming sense of disquieting discomfort.

On a “[heathenistic yet] hopefully not an unenlightened” island, horror icon Christopher Lee plays Lord Summerisle. Summerisle bears likeness to a dictator on an island of loyal, unquestioning followers. When Howie, sent from the nearest offshore precinct to investigate the disappearance of a child, arrives at Summerisle he is perplexed at the behavior of its inhabitants. Their sense of “cooperating” with the sergeant’s line of questioning is to rebuttal with a sequence of self-contradictory non-sequiturs. Howie is trying to solve a puzzle with pieces from the wrong box.

The filmmaking itself is equally unconventional in its approach to regaling what is essentially Howie’s story of propulsion towards his own fate in martyrdom, a “rare privilege” according to Summerisle. Frequent song numbers string the narrative together like a morbid Broadway show. Obtuse camera angles and fragmented cutting create an all around uncustomary, inspiring, intriguing work of art.

"They will not fail!" -Lord Summerisle

The Wicker Man raises many questions of authority; what it is, who has the right to enforce it, and how self-interest finds its way of trickling into the mix. While Howie maintains they are still the subject of a Christian country, Summerisle responds with scoffing cynicism. “You will never understand” he blatantly retorts. Summerisle continues to explain how the island was founded by his grandfather, a “victorian rethinker.” Succinctly stated, The Wicker Man is a vendetta against the Victorian era’s repression of human sexuality.

Sadistically sensual and

surreal

Arguably the film’s most memorable scene is the hauntingly erotic musical number “Willow’s Song.” The landlord’s daughter, Willow, dances naked in her adjoining room, knocking on Howie’s wall in attempt to break the gallant constable’s code of conduct. Intercut are shots of Howie caressing the wall longingly as Willow looks directly into the camera lustfully. In cinematic terms, this is known as “breaking the fourth wall.”

French pioneer director Jean-Luc Godard, famous for breaking the fourth wall in cinema would likely approve of Hardy’s artistically unorthodox utilization of this daring formula. The result creates intense sexual energy without being overtly explicit. The song itself (composed by Anthony Shafer, also the writer of the film) is as deceptively beautiful as Willow’s nude figure cut to be a goddess, and along with other tunes like “Gently Johnny,” “Willow’s Song” is bound to stick around in audience’s memories.

Adolf Eichmann, top ranking

official of The Third Reich

During the film’s final act, Summerisle exclaims to the imprisoned Howie that “[the crops] will not fail!” (the island’s economic staple). While markedly less sinister, the emphatic strength of his unabashed conviction is reminiscent of the disturbingly de facto testimonies of infamous Nazi war criminals. In a generation where the reign of the Third Reich still remains all too fresh, this subconscious connection imposes a new layer of eeriness. Adolf Eichmann, an infamous top ranking member of the third Reich, “remembered perfectly well that he would have had a bad conscience only if he had not done what he had been ordered to do” (Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil). This breed of sociopathic evil, far from folklore apparitions and significantly more terrifying, is consistent with the behavior of the island’s inhabitants. No werewolves, ghouls, goblins or spirits can match the terrifying inhumanity of Summerisle.

"The Citizen Kane of Horror Films"

-Cinefantastique

A poster of The Wickerman boldly frames a quote from French publication Cinefantastique, hailing it as “The Citizen Kane of horror films.” Its daring cinematic innovation, thought-provoking screenplay, superb soundtrack and some damn fine acting render this statement resoundingly true for horror fans. Fanatics of film, particularly of the horror genre, will find The Wicker Man sadistically captivating; a sin to miss.

Overall: 9.4/10

"Yakuza Apocalypse" (2015), and "What Happened to Miike?"

*Review by assistant staff member Benji Stinson, edited by Ross Goodman

Newly implanted into Los Angeles, I have been overjoyed to explore a wider variety of cinema on the big screen than ever before. A longtime theater evader due to over-priced admission cost, "hope you get a good spot" seating, and to an all around bland selection of the Hollywood formula, it's not my movie venue of choice. But with the new selection LA has to offer, I have become an evangelical movie-theater-going convert. When I happened upon the fact that one of the once-greatest directors of cinema would be having a film play on the big screen, I jumped at a chance to see Takashi Miike's Yakuza Apocalypse.

Having high expectations for a Takashi Miike film over the past decade should be met with caution. Miike's golden era of the 90s into the 00s consisted of brave and innovative films--as many as you can possibly consume: the uncompromising action and mastermind chess plot of  Yakuza Demon, IZO a surrealistic experimental film of the highest caliber, the children's classic The Great Yokai War, a blueprint for a successful manga adaptation Crows Zero, and the quirky super-anti-hero film Zebraman which can appeal to more than just the typical comic fan while maintaining a vision unique from your typical superhero movie.

There are even more notable (and relatively obvious) films worth mentioning and watching from this period: Ichi the Killer, Visitor Q, Dead or Alive 1 & 2, Agitator, The Happiness of the Katakuris, Gozu, The Man in White ... yes, the list goes on beyond there ... it seemed for a while that Miike was pumping out pure innovation, an endless stream of films of the highest caliber. It was easy to readily forgive him for the duds ... but they soon became more and more common...

Toward the end of the 2000's and into the 2010's, there were signs of Miike's talent beginning to rot, or perhaps a cancer of apathy began to seep into his work. More and more we were left with dregs. Starting from the late 00's into the 2010's the failures became more commonplace.

Detective Story - a film seemingly more interested in delivering commercial thrills than anything of memorable or unique value. Sukiyaki Western Django - a film dripping with a gritty stylistic quality but failing every other step of the way, harshly reduced by poor English dialogue forced upon a non-English speaking Japanese cast for the entire film. God's Puzzle - a muddled mess which embarrasses its own self by failing to come to any significant metaphysical enlightenment the way it hopes to. Zebraman 2, a dire disaster and equally boring (which seems to be the basis for The Purge, although it is possible both stories stole their "'its ok to kill this time" concept from elsewhere), and the massively dramatic build up to the story line's failed payoff of Shield of Straw, which Miike wisely debuted outside of competition at Cannes.

While Miike's 2010 output has not been a complete failure, it has not been amazing either. A few of the more notable films of his more recent output include the following: 13 Assassins, a solid jidaigeki samurai cinema which throws back to Akira Kurosawa's Seven Samurai with a comparable feeling of Kinji Fukasaku's samuria films starring Sonny Chiba, but it feels like any director of talent could have made ​​this film (not distinctly Miike). The Mole Song: Undercover Agent Reiji, another piece dripping with stylistic fun, is far from Miike's best in the yakuza or absurdist comedy category. Hara Kiri, a remake of the overrated (though we will save this discussion for another time) black and white classic which is simultaneously forgettable but well executed. Yet again not distinctly Miike. Lastly, Lesson of Evil - the first two thirds drag on in a boring and typical manner but is redeemed by its third act - a finale.

As a prolific director with a massive back catalog of some of the most daring and innovative film ever made, along with plenty of "fall on his face" failures, it is hard to walk into a theater to see a Miike film not have certain hopes or expectations. I was hoping a revisit to the yakuza genre, a genre which he helped transform immensely, would be a certain return to form for Miike. The quirky angle of 'yakuza vampires' might be just the right combination to relight the spark of ingenious insanity.

Unfortunately this not what the case. It was only 4 years ago the excellent, absurd parody Yakuza Weapon (Tak Sakaguchi and Yudai Yamaguchi) came out. It is probably fair to say I expected something more along the lines of this type of ultra-camp yakuza parody silliness than the complete muddled mess spilled out across the canvas of the theater screen.

Where do we begin to describe what unfolded?

• Too many half-baked choreographed mess of close-up fight scenes. Miike needs to watch this BADLY.
• A thin story with a confusing ending cliffhanger that other aspects of the film failed to make up for.
• Not much experimentation. Experimentation is something Miike has been known to excel at in flying colors. The cinematography can be written off as a "textbook clean and technically correct" form. In other words passable to the general audience, but boring boring boring and just plain lacking in style.
• Solid acting - a few familiar Miike film faces, but mostly fresh newcomers to his ensemble who offer something closer to "passable acting" than we would hope to see in a Miike film.
• Miike maintains his own unexplainable yet refreshing quirky rules - frogman villain, female yakuza going crazy in a amusing way, and a handful of other quirky fun moments. Unfortunately the camp does not silver line the film, but attempts to carry it with jokes and absurd moments - almost falling flat as often as they land.

How does a director make a commercial film for the Japanese yakuza-genre audience with quality and innovation these days? It was not too long ago Sono Sion's Tokyo Tribe released. Tokyo Tribe followed many conventions of commercial appeal: unrealistically good-hearted 'bad' protagonists, a pop / hip hop soundtrack, and a cast that looks like it what hand picked from a fashion magazine. Yet it never failed to come across as innovate or remain interesting - though I would concede far from Sono Sion's best - it seems as though I was not the only other person to make this connection. I overheard chatter of Tokyo Tribe connections (commercial, quirky angle) at my viewing. The point of this digression is yes, you can in fact have commercial appeal and quality with this type of movie, but Miike missed the mark this time around.

Historically speaking, Yakuza Apocalypse was released the same year as the world's largest crime organization - the Yamaguchi-gumi - is projected to be gearing up for at eruption of schismatic violence. The analogy for yakuza being portrayed as vampires - criminals sucking blood from the well-to-do civilians - plays out in moments such as the yakuza captain Genkyo Kamiura's statement that "without civilians, yakuza can not survive." Still, Yakuza Apocalypse does not amount to any profound philosophical enlightening grandeur. Instead the film takes the soft path of satirizing the concept of ninkyō (yakuza code of honor) in a humorous, light-hearted way.

My movie ticket to "Yakuza Apocalypse."
In memory of a not so memorable film

Wrap Up: The film checks off a lot of bullet points on the list of passable, which bumps it past the halfway point of "watchable." Yakuza Apocalypse's biggest sin is how forgettable it is - a particularly deep issue for a director whose trademark of what once uncompromising in content, and in moments of notable impact.

Grade: 6.7 (I run a harsher scale than Ross). I drop this film squarely in the "good background movie" zone.