Well, Damn.

Plagiarism in 31 Days of Spielberg

Various updates coming soon.

31 Days of Spielberg.

Firstly, I'd like to reference everybody to my growing list of blogs that I frequently read/comment on not just because I feel like I need to show some sort of inherent gratitude for the individuals that I am essentially networking with, but these are individuals who allow me to get further traffic to my blog and also provide me with some phenomenal reads when it comes to the film medium--and to other things as well. Furthermore, I'm trying to not to compulsively link every blog that relates to film criticism because I think these users should be recognized by readers of my blog not drowned out among the rest like a bad Oscar reception speech. I'm going to try to promote these blogs through means of a post of sorts whenever I feel like he or she has made an outstanding effort in contribution towards my general enthusiasm for the medium; however, I wish not to ignore their almost daily contributions to their own blog and only suggest that my judgment of the merit of individual posts is about as flawed as my own personal taste in films. Lol. But seriously, my emphasis should be duly noted.






Windmills of My Mind (Damian) has featured a 31-day Spielberg drool festival and I've been reading every post since day 1. Aside for the apparent accomplishment and dedication of the project, the most commendable aspect of his celebration is that his takes is both analytical and highly unpretentious. His writing is accessible for anybody with even a slight interest in film to soak up and thoroughly comprehensive for those who wish to be challenged and moved by his thoughts are effectively welcomed. I've always had a particular penchant against various sorts of personal attachments to film criticism, that the nature of the work is difficult to thinly negotiate without a sense of objective or subjective singularity, but "31 Days of Spielberg" manages to be one of those projects that actually tends to not only forgive its personal accompaniment but rather to entice us with said approach. It's truly infectious, to say the least.

I'd really like to shout out to Tram, Ted, and all the contributors on The House Next Door for putting up with my various antics and allowing me to establish somewhat of a residence here. It was just as difficult as I imagined to go from a fairly recognizable IMDB personality to a complete nobody on these boards but these people have made it possible--along with the IMDB users that continue to frequent my blog: Movie Freak, Emma, Chris, and many others. As I suggested earlier, I'm not trying to segregate anything of any sort here but simply promote an environment of cinematic enthusiasts and individuals who want anything of perceived importance to be heard.


Thanks,

Jeremy.

Initial Glances at Inland Empire.

Essentially, I could sit here and vent my frustration on attaining a David Lynch film from a multi-billion dollar give-a-damn corporation (Walmart, who else?). The problem doesn't just exist with the employee's apathy for actually, you know, providing customer service or like, knowing how to run a computer system or at least attempting to have some faith in an individual saying, "Yes, I know you received shipments for the DVD--will you just check for me?". Hell, it extends all the way up the corporate ladder where board rooms are assembled for increasing customer overload as opposed to amiability, customer connections, etc; Mom-and-Pop stores bear most of the weight, but we're next in line. Anyway, it's all rather moot considering that I eventually put up with all of the faux-red tape and grabbed my copy of Inland Empire and started heading home--to sleep. In fact, as I type this at 4:00 in the afternoon I have yet to watch my DVD copy. Part of it was because I've already seen the film and wanted to wait 'til I was fully awake for my next viewing, but mostly it was the unavoidable knowledge that I was going to have to prepare myself again to watch this film. Oh, rest assured I'll be spending my night funneling my ways through the various functions of Lynch's latest cinematic vehicle; I'll be frightened at every turn. Preparation means absolutely nothing. I thought of something fantastic on the drive home: Lynch's films don't breathe, they function. They are defined by a cerebral process and their extincts are not compressed by a fleeting romanticism. Because nothing about Inland Empire is fleeting.

This is going to be an exciting month for film fans because no matter what your stance is on David Lynch, you have to admit that the man does inspire some absolutely breath-taking metaphors, encirclements, tangents,..you name it. In the 6+ years since Mulholland Drive (which, btw, I'm not a gigantic fan of. But more on that later or by request) we are still getting some insanely detailed critical analyses; few film-makers, if any, tend to polarize its critics and viewers quite like him. I remember having a discussion with another user on the ability of his films to be "cracked", which more or less says something about the viewer than the actual system which his most quintessential films are governed by: they can't really be cracked. But alas, I'm sort of skirting amongst several of the things that the film will better answer or confound (I'm not entirely sold on which one is more beneficial) and the real point of this particular post is just to explain some of the initial vibes I got from the DVD box, the title menus, and also, how much 2-Disc Special Edition really does pack.
[Note: Initial responses from DVD reviewers and fellows users is that the UK DVD release has a significantly less number of features. However, I've been pointed by an IMDB user that DVD Beaver claims the image quality is severely lacking on the American release in comparison to the European version. Europe, especially France, are more appreciative towards Lynch, nonetheless.]




First Reactions:




The front of the DVD box is pretty much the same as the above poster without the credentials, Los Angeles distanced behind Laura Dern, and with the addition of the wonderfully-phrased "A Woman in Trouble" right below the words INLAND EMPIRE. It's still a fantastic poster and the back side is fillwed with all sorts of wonderfully screencaptures--a red/orange lamp, an incandescent light bulb, and ominously lighted silhouette, Axxon-N, and quite perfectly, the frightening shadow of a rabbit against a door. The back cites that DISK ONE contains the film and DISK TWO contains 211 minutes (!!!) of special features: "More things the happened", "Ballerina", "Lynch 2", "Quinoa", "Stories", "Trailers", and "Stills". I'm not going to go through these right now simply because of my schedule and because I think these most likely warrant a separate blog entry but the initial thought of 211 minutes of bonus material is pretty fantastic.




The covering of DISK ONE is the infamous red lamp and DISK TWO is decorated with rabbit family situated in their apartment just like the sitcom within the film (We've all seen that clip, so I really don't think I'm spoiling anything. )

Upon starting DISK ONE you get the promotional image of Absurda ("A David Lynch Company) over some expected ambient/creepy music. Next we are led to a main menu highlighted by even more experimental audio and a POS record player--awesome. [see above]

DISK TWO starts out the same way as the first disk with the promotional image of Lynch's production company. The main menu is the same imposed image of an emotionally distraught Laura Dern in a blue tint--in other words, the same image on the poster. [see below]


Special Features -

Stills - Pretty much self-explanatory: A very pretty montage of the film's various images and production shots.
Quinoa - David Lynch teaching cooking lessons. Pretty much expect every 19 year-old student filmmaker to be eating "quinoa" for dinner.
More things that Happened - A disturbingly empty red-shaded room. I'll have to check this one out later.
Ballerina - An attractive red-dressed girl dancing on ice to some wonderfully inspirational music. Note: one of these observations is false.
Trailers - Don't get your hopes up. Then again, don't get them down they still are quite impressive.
Lynch 2 - David Lynch being a churlish, condescending OCD control freak. Laugh out loud.
Stories - Lynch talking straight to the microphone. I haven't given it a listen yet but I'm sure there's at least a few good things to be extracted from this, expectedly.

In the spirit of brevity/I've actually come under the impression that my desire for brevity sort of disregards my status as a "serious blogger"...but in this instance, can you expect an individual to write tirelessly about something he hasn't been able to soak up yet?/I'm going to just end it hear and await your thoughts and pray for slight anticipation for what is to come of this film and its features. As I promised earlier, I'll be working--along with half of the film-obsessed web--on my reactions to the film and hopefully trying to penetrate the thickly-coated layers of what is Inland Empire. There's no harm in trying.

Update

Alright, the summer semester is over tomorrow, so I'll be finally able to finish some of those things I promised earlier like the "Assimilation and Gender" essays and the Jeanne Dielman review. Ben, one of my contributors, is also looking to post a few things, but we'll see how much of an actuality that really is. ;) Anyway, keep the comments rolling and don't forget to suggest polling questions, films to watch, or anything else you think would be helpful. Thanks.

“We can do nothing against gravity.”

Lost in Translation Rebuttal

I realize I'm behind on a few things: 1. Jeanne Dielman review. 2. "Assimilation and Gender"
Firstly, summer school, while rather uneventful, still is occupying my time from 8-12:30 every Monday-Thursday and so has recreational soccer (and I still post regularly on IMDB, sort of). I'll get to those -- hey, I'm being pretty fucking productive -- but first I want to address something that I suggested earlier: common Lost in Translation criticisms. In the spirit of brevity and righteousness let's begin:

Film Quarterly - "Lost in Translation"


OK, so this is probably going to work with myself just reading the article (1st read) and just picking out things that I think serve as criticisms towards the film. I'll copy text and respond to it when I come to those "points of emphasis" and I encourage anybody else to refute or applaud any of my reactions to the film and its criticisms.

Page one sort of allows itself to not really attach to any sort of side. King pretty much sets what looks like an attack on the film's racial content -- God, I hope she doesn't ignore that 90% of the film was about the characters -- and then quickly sets up a reaction to such a complain. Is this really going to be an appraisal?

But nor does the
film sufficiently clarify that its real subject is not Tokyo
itself, but Western perceptions of Tokyo—in particular,
the fantasies that two lonely Americans project onto the
city and its residents. When Japan appears superficial,
inappropriately erotic, or unintelligible, we are never
completely sure whether this vision belongs to Coppola,
to her characters, or simply to a Hollywood cinematic
imaginary that has been offering up such images
of the East at least since Cecil B. DeMille’s 1915 The
Cheat, as described by scholar Gina Marchetti.2

Well, fuck. Isn't this the reason Lynch gets off the hook? I mean, it's not like people run around with axes claiming that David butchered the realities of Tinseltown of Prarieview, Oklahoma, right? Let's hope she drops the bomb on the next page->

Coppola’s camera adopts an ambiguous attitude, combining dazzled
humility with bemused condescension.At no point, it is
true, do we securely occupy the confident position of
the superior Western gaze upon the non-Western.

Ah...ooh, self-retorting! But the review/reaction still remains tame. But here comes the asininity:

But
the film ends up containing the Orient and “speaking
on its behalf ” in another way: by representing it as a
space where an American may get lost, but without
being significantly changed or unmoored by the experience.
As Scarlett Johansson’s character puts it, she
“doesn’t feel anything” when she encounters her cultural
others.

Firstly, Scarlett's inability to feel anything is not a revelation of the culture's lack but rather her lack. She, a philosophy major, complains on the phone to her "friend" because she feels an emptiness due to her inability to connect with anything at the moment. Damn, I bet the KKK is all over Sofia for suggesting Scarlett's alienation with her husband and for the patronization of dumb Hollywood starlets. Why is it understandable to predict that Charlotte's "emptiness" is reminiscent of a skewed approach to the culture by Sofia as opposed to Charlotte's own existentialism revealing her disconnection? And even so, Charlotte, indeed, shows admiration and respect for Japan; she has reasonable acquaintances in Tokyo and her "disconnect" is perhaps more of a spiritual lacking of herself...yes?

The scene is acted and shot for humor at the
expense of the Japanese perception of what a desirable
American male looks like: how he sits and gestures,
what kind of suit he wears, what kind of whiskey he
drinks. The more Bob gives the photographer what he
wants, the more he is emasculated, both because he is
following the orders of a man who cannot correctly
pronounce “Rat Pack,” and because the images he recreates
seem antiquated and fey by contemporary American
standards. But this emasculation does not stick to
Bob. It is returned to sender: attributed to Japanese
naïveté rather than to its American source.

The last sentence is what gets me, not so much that I disagree but that I think it yields an attack that really is sort of self-defeating. Firstly, the scene portrays a rather accurate display of the lingual differences of the two cluture; I'm not entirely against the thought that Coppola overdoes these "r/l" thing but I am against those who seek to overextend it to detract from the entire experience. Secondly, I think this quote misses what Sofia is partially trying to say: that there is a distinct appreciation or admiration by the Japanese when it comes to American stardom. When Bob is distilled by the skyscraper bearing a large advertisement of his face, it is implied that the greatest irony is just how humble the Japanese culture really is. In other words, the film progressively shows the tourists endorsement of Japan as if Sofia seeks to tell her viewers that the initial detachment from the austere environment, while natural, will eventually form into embracement, authorization, and above all, self-discovery.

But because point of view is limited
to Bob and Charlotte, we see more of their incomprehension
than that of their hosts. The camera emphasizes
Bob’s bewildered reaction to the bowing greeters
at the hotel, his face an amalgam of jet lag and sarcasm.

Disorientation in a foreign environment, the distinct rhythmic differences of social interactions...? Give him a break, buddy.

as well as his quick exit from an after-hours strip club, as a comment
on Japanese sexuality and gender roles rather than on
American prudishness.The film focalizes these images
through Bob: it is the greeter, not he, who looks ridiculous;
it is the dancer who is overly salacious, not he who
projects this image onto her. Other scenes in the film—
Bob’s appearance on a Japanese television show, for
instance—share in this attitude.

Absurd. And yes, I'm sure that a rather blatant feminist like Sofia Coppola is attempting to comment on the disparaged gender roles in Japanese culture. I'm not disagreeing that Bob's character is flawed in a few of these regards, he's quintessentially Bill Murray in the sense that he's always on the verge of elevating his social abasement into full-blown humor but never quite there. But to suggest that the film takes a moral stance on these situations, is rather absurd given the characters arcs and the film's final distributive fondness towards the revelations discovered in the stay. In "focaliz[ing] these images through Bob" it's as if Sofia is saying, "OK, make your own remarks about his character and his sophisitication".

There are a few scenes where we get an inkling that
the incomprehension is mutual, a flicker of understanding
that the West might also be an exotic enigma
for the East. In a scene at a hospital waiting room, for
instance, a stranger asks Bob in Japanese how many
years he has been in Japan. Failing to understand, Bob
can only mimic a few syllables; his interlocutor bursts
into laughter. The tables are turned:West now imitates
East.

Well, I'll be damned.

How, then, does one make a film about one people’s
projections onto another, one culture’s fantasies
about another, without reproducing those very projections?
How does one represent what is lost in translation
from both sides?

I'll answer: by changing the fucking film. Why would a filmmaker intent on portraying two individuals channeling the same existential crises -- Bob's mid-life, Charlotte's post-college -- seek to confound the entire point by extending its arc to the other side? In fact, the film suggests that the characters dislocation is not by means of the foreign environment but more of their own. It's like saying that Casablanca should restructure its perceptions of a Nazi-controlled city as a source of purgatorial romance in order to give Africa its dues. By consistently projecting the "side's" viewpoint (not that this film doesn't do it at times) we delineate the plot to an unnecessary emotional attachment, especially one that is already overwhelming the narrative in the first place.

Lost in Translation, on the other hand, emphasizes
what is mimicked without understanding,what escapes
translation. Sensations of incomprehension, of loss of
control, of forgetting even the time of day, tend to dominate.
These sensations, the film makes clear, can be
highly pleasurable, and even transformative when one
is open to them

This is half of the point. The biggest problem with this review is that its preoccupation with environments non-communicative efforts with the characters ignores that the majority of the film was about the characters projecting upon one another. I'm not to deny that the film sensationalizes certain aspects; however, I tend to embrace those sensations because Coppola shows it on behalf of the character's own personal disconnection. The film that I think this reviewer is attempting to ostracize isn't there because the flaws of the characters inevitably embrace the environment. In neglecting the Gothic qualities of the romance and making a personal attack for what the film wasn't instead of trying to seek out what it really was trying to do this review sort of makes me wonder how many films, classic or not, can we destroy because there sociological tangents don't correctly comply with that of actuality, or what we perceive as actuality. It's a bit hard for me to get behind a well-written and fair-pointed (at times) review of Lost in Translation when the individual doesn't once mention the kiss or the disoriented barrier of Bob and Charlotte's relationship. Not all of us were overextending incongruities with the Tokyo lights as Bob departed for the airport in the final shot. Some of couldn't even see them.