Some movies require you to suspend your disbelief. Some demand that you wad it up like a bungled rough draft and toss it out the window to be carried away into the never-never. And still others assume that you were born without a single ounce of disbelief to call your own. It is into this third category that Baz Luhrmann's movies fall.
Luhrmann is not a man who believes in limits, and his films are all the better for it. I like, admire and respect all four of his movies so far, and I absolutely adore three of them: Strictly Ballroom, Moulin Rouge, and now Australia. William Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet was an impressive feat: anyone who could interest teenagers in a version of Romeo and Juliet that more or less used the original language deserves respect. But if I were to play host to a person who had never been fortunate enough to see a movie, Luhrmann's other three films would be the first I would show him. "Look at this," I would say. "These are absolute magic."
Australia, I fear, will not draw huge audiences, at least if the New York Times review and the number of people I shared my showing with are any indication. It's too bad really. It is the first movie I have seen in a long time that had no weak spots. I have only one quibble with this movie: the special effects in two of the shots are unfortunately obvious. This is a far better score than even the new Star Wars movies achieve, however. Some will find another fault with this movie: its length of nearly three hours. To these people, I say, "After I watched the second Pirates of the Caribbean on DVD, which I had rented for a mere dollar, I thought, 'that's a dollar and two-and-a-half hours of my life I'll never get back.' Australia is $10 and three hours well spent."
This movie tells the story of Lady Sarah Ashley (Nicole Kidman), who leaves England for Australia to try to sell her husband's cattle station in the Northern Territory (pronounced Tear-a-tree). The sale, she believes, will solve two problems: her husband's absence (he is spending all his time down under), and the couple's imminent financial problems. She meets up with her husband's "trusted man", Drover (Hugh Jackman), for the trip from Darwin to the station, and adventure ensues. Aside from Kidman and Jackman's solid performances, there is an enchanting indigenous Australian boy who figures prominently into the story.
Like any Luhrmann movie, it contains a catchy life lesson that makes its first appearance as a creed by which one of the characters lives and gets repeated a few times. This is Luhrmann's specialty, and I for one am grateful for it. I know of no other filmmaker who not only touches the hearts of his audiences, but who also inspires their imagination, and inspires them to, above all, live! Live with as much spirit and creativity and love as you can manage, every day of your life. Instead of suspending your disbelief, and willingly entering into a temporary fantasy land, Luhrmann wants you to integrate his movies and their lessons into your life. He reminds us, before the film even begins, of the lesson he taught in his first film, Strictly Ballroom: A life lived in fear is a life half-lived.
Some of you will recall that I had the good fortune to spend most of August and the first few days of September of 2007 bouncing around Australia, from Sydney to Melbourne to Cairns to Alice Springs to Yulara. On the way to see the movie this afternoon, I finished reading In a Sunburned Country by Bill Bryson, which is excellent. My next vacation is going to be to Portugal, Spain and Italy, with the possibility of a few stops in the south of France. But what I want to do most of all right now is to return to Australia, which I recommend very highly to all who can afford the time and money a visit requires. Both will prove very well spent, I promise you.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Friday, November 28, 2008
To whomever didn't like Chris Cornell's 007 song: May I present "Another Way to Die"
In Casino Royale, James Bond assesses Vesper over what turns out to be a premature victory dinner. "I think something is driving you," he says. "And I think I'll never find out what that is."
If I were to have the good fortune to find myself sitting across a dinner table from James Bond, I would have almost the same assessment of his latest mission. "I think something is driving you," I would say. "But I know exactly what it is." And that, unfortunately, is where Quantum of Solace goes wrong.
Casino Royale took us through parts of Bond's psyche that we never thought we'd see. First, he was a narcissistic newly-minted 007. A brush with emasculation and a taste of genuine human connection turned him into a soulful, loving ex-spy. (Seriously, who would have imagined James Bond even had a soul!?) Loss and confusion left him embittered and hardened.
Quantum of Solace takes us through parts of the world we never thought we'd see. It starts in Italy, at most an hour after Casino Royale has concluded. Next up is London, then Haiti, where we catch a glimpse of one of the best characters from the last film: Felix Leiter of the CIA, who is looking about as pissed off as Bond was at the end of Casino. Then it's off to Austria, where Bond gets unfairly blamed, and thus has his Black AMEX cut off. He goes to Italy to find another returning character, Mathis, who helps him get to Bolivia, where (most of) the rest of the movie takes place. The film concludes in Russia.
Even after all that traveling, Bond is essentially the same person he was at the beginning of the film. The only thing that changes is that he has finally found proof, beyond even an unreasonable doubt, of something the rest of us have had faith in since 2006, and that he should have realized by the second scene of this movie: Vesper had a heart.
This is not to say that Bond is without any additional motivation: he is doing what he believes is right for the people of Bolivia, and in turn what is right for the world. The problem is that all of that gets lost in the unnecessary "mystery" about how the same formidable "organization" that has taken down Le Chiffre and infiltrated MI6 is out to cause a drought. Except that you're meant to think they're after oil. I'm guessing that the person who thought that plot twist would be exciting is the same person who thought Jack White and Alicia Keys would make a good musical combination, and the same person who decided Mathis should play only a minor role in this film. Giancarlo Giannini is a fine actor who deserves more screen time.
One pivotal scene, during which Leiter and Bond meet in a bar in Bolivia, is rushed and was hard for me to understand. The writers missed a golden opportunity to create a catch phrase people would have been uttering until Quantum comes out on DVD. Instead, Leiter said something in Spanish that's hard to hear.
I have a feeling this is the sort of movie you like better the second time around, after you've had some time to put it into context. I'm not sure where the next Bond film will go, but I hope it spends at least a few scenes reminding us of what we learned in Casino Royale: Bond has a heart (and a soul!). And I sincerely hope we get to see more of Leiter.
If I were to have the good fortune to find myself sitting across a dinner table from James Bond, I would have almost the same assessment of his latest mission. "I think something is driving you," I would say. "But I know exactly what it is." And that, unfortunately, is where Quantum of Solace goes wrong.
Casino Royale took us through parts of Bond's psyche that we never thought we'd see. First, he was a narcissistic newly-minted 007. A brush with emasculation and a taste of genuine human connection turned him into a soulful, loving ex-spy. (Seriously, who would have imagined James Bond even had a soul!?) Loss and confusion left him embittered and hardened.
Quantum of Solace takes us through parts of the world we never thought we'd see. It starts in Italy, at most an hour after Casino Royale has concluded. Next up is London, then Haiti, where we catch a glimpse of one of the best characters from the last film: Felix Leiter of the CIA, who is looking about as pissed off as Bond was at the end of Casino. Then it's off to Austria, where Bond gets unfairly blamed, and thus has his Black AMEX cut off. He goes to Italy to find another returning character, Mathis, who helps him get to Bolivia, where (most of) the rest of the movie takes place. The film concludes in Russia.
Even after all that traveling, Bond is essentially the same person he was at the beginning of the film. The only thing that changes is that he has finally found proof, beyond even an unreasonable doubt, of something the rest of us have had faith in since 2006, and that he should have realized by the second scene of this movie: Vesper had a heart.
This is not to say that Bond is without any additional motivation: he is doing what he believes is right for the people of Bolivia, and in turn what is right for the world. The problem is that all of that gets lost in the unnecessary "mystery" about how the same formidable "organization" that has taken down Le Chiffre and infiltrated MI6 is out to cause a drought. Except that you're meant to think they're after oil. I'm guessing that the person who thought that plot twist would be exciting is the same person who thought Jack White and Alicia Keys would make a good musical combination, and the same person who decided Mathis should play only a minor role in this film. Giancarlo Giannini is a fine actor who deserves more screen time.
One pivotal scene, during which Leiter and Bond meet in a bar in Bolivia, is rushed and was hard for me to understand. The writers missed a golden opportunity to create a catch phrase people would have been uttering until Quantum comes out on DVD. Instead, Leiter said something in Spanish that's hard to hear.
I have a feeling this is the sort of movie you like better the second time around, after you've had some time to put it into context. I'm not sure where the next Bond film will go, but I hope it spends at least a few scenes reminding us of what we learned in Casino Royale: Bond has a heart (and a soul!). And I sincerely hope we get to see more of Leiter.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
FP8: If "P" stands for proposition, I'll let you figure out what the "F" stands for.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008 will forever be remembered as the day Americans elected their first black president. The same momentous day showed that more Californians care about the rights of farm animals than about gay people.
Proposition 2 won 63% to 37%, a wide margin by any standard. Proposition 2 mandated that "covered animals" (i.e., those that the proposition applies to) are protected from being confined in such a way that would prevent them from "lying down, standing up, and fully extending his or her limbs; and turning around freely." A "covered animal" is a pregnant pig, a calf raised for veal, or an egg-laying hen kept on a farm.
Sadly, Proposition 8 also won, but by a much smaller margin: 52% to 48%. Proposition 8 rewrote the California state constitution to eliminate the right of same-sex couples to marry. Why on earth a simple majority is required to rewrite the state constitution is beyond me. But what angers and saddens me is that on November 3, my friends, neighbors and co-workers all enjoyed the same rights, regardless of whether they were designed to be partners with someone of their own sex or the opposite sex. On November 4, those same people were split into two groups based on an entirely arbitrary distinction.
I have known, attended school with, and worked with and for gay people for as long as I was old enough to understand that some people were heterosexual and some were homosexual. I have always understood that although there was a difference between us, it never made a difference to me. Now, I cannot fathom why it makes a difference to anyone else.
All the arguments for this ban boil down to fear, hatred and self-righteousness. And, what, exactly, may I ask, is the point of the ban anyway? To try to "discourage" homosexual behavior? Not going to happen. To try to prevent homosexuals from having and raising children? Not going to happen. To "protect" marriage? That is the biggest bunch of bull I've heard in a long time. Gay couples are permitted to marry in other states, and, until Wednesday, been getting married here in California and it has had zero effect on the institution of marriage.
I feel so confused by this whole thing. And angry and sad and frustrated and shocked. Come on, California, let's get this thing overturned/repealed/struck down/whatever we have to do to stop senseless discrimination.
Proposition 2 won 63% to 37%, a wide margin by any standard. Proposition 2 mandated that "covered animals" (i.e., those that the proposition applies to) are protected from being confined in such a way that would prevent them from "lying down, standing up, and fully extending his or her limbs; and turning around freely." A "covered animal" is a pregnant pig, a calf raised for veal, or an egg-laying hen kept on a farm.
Sadly, Proposition 8 also won, but by a much smaller margin: 52% to 48%. Proposition 8 rewrote the California state constitution to eliminate the right of same-sex couples to marry. Why on earth a simple majority is required to rewrite the state constitution is beyond me. But what angers and saddens me is that on November 3, my friends, neighbors and co-workers all enjoyed the same rights, regardless of whether they were designed to be partners with someone of their own sex or the opposite sex. On November 4, those same people were split into two groups based on an entirely arbitrary distinction.
I have known, attended school with, and worked with and for gay people for as long as I was old enough to understand that some people were heterosexual and some were homosexual. I have always understood that although there was a difference between us, it never made a difference to me. Now, I cannot fathom why it makes a difference to anyone else.
All the arguments for this ban boil down to fear, hatred and self-righteousness. And, what, exactly, may I ask, is the point of the ban anyway? To try to "discourage" homosexual behavior? Not going to happen. To try to prevent homosexuals from having and raising children? Not going to happen. To "protect" marriage? That is the biggest bunch of bull I've heard in a long time. Gay couples are permitted to marry in other states, and, until Wednesday, been getting married here in California and it has had zero effect on the institution of marriage.
I feel so confused by this whole thing. And angry and sad and frustrated and shocked. Come on, California, let's get this thing overturned/repealed/struck down/whatever we have to do to stop senseless discrimination.
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