Craig Brewer, Hustle & Flow (2005), Andrew Bujalski, Funny Ha Ha (2002)

At first glance, a comparison of Andrew Bujalski's Funny Ha Ha and Craig Brewer's Hustle and Flow is unfair. Funny is a low-budget film without major studio backing, whereas Hustle was backed by a major name (John Singleton) and was remarkable for the buzz it received as a symbol of how the Sundance Film Festival has sold out to the corporate gods. Interestingly, the NY Times slammed Hustle as "naive" and "rubbish", while fawning over the "beautiful" Funny.

In some respects, both films should be lauded: both 24-year old Bujalski and 34-year-old Brewer wrote scripts and directed these films which really capture the subgroup of society that they are attempting to portray. Similarly, both directors aspire to be a John... Bujalski wants to be John Cassavettes and Brewer wants to be John Singleton (check out min 33 of this interview). But what sets Brewer's Hustle several steps above Funny is the fact that he has written a script about a group to which he does not belong to: the predominantly black poor of Memphis.

Brewer has absorbed his rather sad history and personal traumas (the death of his father) and created an energetic film with the positive message of the benefits of doing whatever's necessary to follow your dream, as exemplified by this scene where the main characters cut their hit rap track. Bujalski, who comes from a wealthy New England suburb of priviledge has written a largely negative and angst-ridden film about twenty-somethings with no major life traumas who are struggling to find their path in the world. Which is not to say that Bujalski's depiction is inaccurate; its just that it generates no emotion when viewed next to Brewer's characters' more serious plights in life.

Both are worth watching though those who do not love independent films might struggle with the slow pace and low budget rough edges of Funny.

Rainer Werner Fassbinder, Ali Fear Eat the Soul (1974)

Quirky film driven by the unlikely relationship between an elderly German cleaning lady and a Moroccan car mechanic, 25 years her junior, living in Munich. The film is fascinating for the way that it illustrates the tricky inter-relationship between diverse social groups including German bar waitresses, blue collar Arab immigrants, the aging German generation (Emmi's co-workers and neighbors) who came of age in the Hitler era of secrecy and deception as well as the younger generation of "hip" Germans living the urban life. This scene (Caution: contains spoilers) not only shows the great acting of the two lead characters but it also illustrates the tension between various German social groups.

The film is also quite interesting for the high unintentional comedy factor of the 1970s setting which at times feels like an Austin Powers spoof. The dress, painting and curtains in this shot (see picture on the right) say it all. Additionally, Ali is shown on several instances in his... umm full glory. In a sense though, this is a theme of both this film and some of Fassbinder's other works: when life and people are completely exposed, its messy, and the inherent tension between them is both enjoyable and cringeworthy. Even the German title of the film (Angst Essen Seeke Auf ) is actually written in broken German and seems to be meant to further illustrate this "messiness" of real life.

As a stand-alone story, Ali is fascinating but the background of Fassbinder and the lead actors are also larger than life. Fassbinder and El Hedi ben Salem, who plays Ali, had a tumultous personal and professional relationship, and both died unexpectedly (Fassbinder of a drug overdose in the early 80s and El Hedi ben Salem of suicide in jail after having been convicted of murder). Brigitte Mira, who plays the female lead, actually lived to the ripe old age of 95 years old and was married 5 times!

In today's world of film, these eccentric character-driven indy films made on tiny budgets are ubiquitous, proving that Fassbinder's mark on the cinema is still alive and well today. GreenCine Daily reports that a film about Fassbinder's life is currently in the works, so perhaps we'll see a rise in the popularity of his films as well.

Otto Preminger- Laura (1944), Where the Sidewalk Ends (1950)

In 1940s and 1950s, apparently the major prerequisite for being a great film director was to be a fat, white, bald guy. Almost everyone today is familiar with Alfred Hitchcock and his portfolio of horror and suspense films which spans multiple decades, but most people are far less familiar with the other great balding white guy- Otto Preminger. Preminger's career also developed over multiple decades; his films were intelligent and unafraid to tackle complex topics where the protaganist and antagonist did not necessarily fall into easy "good" and "bad" categories.

Two of Preminger's best early works are highlighted below:

Every great film noir has three basic elements: rain, hard liquor and chain-smoking. Laura has its share of all three as well as an extremely detailed and often-times inconceivable plot which is scattered with moments of campiness. The film has some great one-liners, such as Clifton Webb's character, Waldo Lydecker, saying "I hate pens" and Detective McPherson telling the maid: "Well spit if it makes you feel better". Despite Preminger's reputation for being obstinant and rumors of tension between the actors on-set, there is a sense of joy with which Preminger's casts take on their roles. Many of his actors and actresses received their highest critical acclaim while under his direction.

The direction and cinematography are just simply unrivaled by today's films. Laura starts and ends with the idealized painting of Laura played by Gene Tierney and serves as the primary symbol of the idealized love that the three main characters in the film have for Laura. The painting probably plays a more important role than the character herself.

Sadly, there were some mirror images of the characters and their real lives behind the screen. As an example, at the end of the film Laura explains to the detective how she was guilty for the murder indirectly. In real life, Tierney had a child who was retarded, blind and deaf. She later found out it was because she had been exposed to German measles by a fan who came to see her at one of her appearances. Tierney was reportedly crushed that her fame contributed to the sickness of her daughter.

Where the Sidewalk Ends re-unites Preminger with his leads (Dana Andrews and Gene Tierney) from Laura, made six years earlier. Preminger appears to have enjoyed transforming Andrews hero character, Detective McPherson in Laura, into the Mark Dixon character from Sidewalk; Dixon wants to do the right thing but his tragic flaw is his desire to pursue justice at all costs, with an "ends justify the means" attitude. Watch the cool opening credits of Sidewalk in this link, but don't watch the entire link if you don't wank spoilers).

Preminger takes what could have been a cookie-cutter cop noir format and adds depth to the film by rounding out details of the characters and blurring the traditional lines between "right and wrong" and "good and bad". While Sidewalk is not nearly as intellectually engaging as his masterpiece Advise and Consent, Anatomy of a Murder and even Exodus, its still a heavy-weight in the crime noir genre and one which should be enjoyable to a large audience even today.

Terrence Malick, The Thin Red Line (1998); New World (2005)

Have you seen Days of Heaven yet? In comparison with Terrence Malick who waited for 20 years after Days to make The Thin Red Line, my delay of slightly over a month between blog posts pales by comparison. In order to make reparations for my delay, I give you a two for one today: a review of Malick's latest two films.

Both The Thin Red Line and The New World are a continuation of Malick's dialogue about humankind's place in the natural world. If you could go camping with any director, it would have to be Malick. He simply sees things in nature that your average person does not; while all his films discuss human-centric stories, the subtext always tackles the greater world surrounding the human characters.

Both Thin Red Line and New World begin with visual scenes of nature including thick, lush forests and other-worldly underwater environs. This idyllic natural world in both films is interrupted by the "human world" which has been tainted by war or famine or disease. In Thin Red Line, this transition is illustrated with the emergence of World War II ships rumbling over the horizon. In New World, man's harmonious convergence with nature ends with the appearance of the English settlers' boats in Jamestown.

Both these arthouse films have long run times (over 2 hours) which bombard you with ideas frequently conveyed through a haunting, poetic voiceover spoken by the main character. James Caviezel's soft-spoken philosophic voice-over in Thin Red Line was pitch perfect.

In the end, neither film achieved great financial success, probably because someone searching for a traditional war movie or a Cowboys-and-Indians movie would probably go elsewhere, and with good reason. Thin Red Line was released in the same year as Saving Private Ryan, and as such was overhadowed by the hype surrounding that film and its more conventional storytelling. In the case of New World, casting Colin Farrell in a serious role, or really in any role that's not about his hair is perhaps asking a bit too much.

In any case, the good news is that Malick will not wait another decade for his new film; Tree of Life is in post-production and due out next year. Let's hope that Brad Pitt, who stars in the lead role and who is not inexperienced when it comes to hair movies, takes the high road and elevates his acting to meet Malick's genius.

Terrence Malick, Days of Heaven (1978)

Looking back, when Terrence Malick’s Days of Heaven was released in 1978, following the success of his film Badlands in 1974, one might have concluded at the time that Malick was on his way to Hollywood stardom. In fact, the result was the exact opposite: critics such as the New York Times’ Harold C. Schonberg panned it as “intolerably artsy” and “artificial” and Malick abandoned film directing for 20 years (perhaps due to exhaustion from dealing with Richard Gere’s ego mania for an extended period of time).

In thinking of a modern-day film to compare with Days, I was quite pleased at myself for recognizing the similarities with PT Anderson’s There Will Be Blood (2007). Of course, when I started scouring the Internet to find still photos which show the similarities in style, I stumbled upon several articles comparing the two films, including one from this blogger. Oh well, I prefer to think of this coincidence as a justification of Malcolm Gladwell’s recent article in the New Yorker , the thesis for which is that similar innovation often happens at relatively the same time in different places.

But I digress… I don’t know whether PT Anderson was influenced by Malick, but both Days and Blood share a slow-paced style of storytelling in which the plot unfolds through long shots of characters’ actions often without the use dialogue. Both films also frame the conflict between the characters in the larger context of the natural world around them. The "natural" disasters which occur in both Days and Blood are almost visually overwhelming and serve to symbolize and heighten the human tension between the characters. Both films are also filled with Biblical references; there is literally a lot of fire and brimstone imagery on the screen (Days photos are above, Blood photo is below).

Like Badlands, Days of Heaven also employs the voice-over of a young girl (13-year old Linda Manz). This serves to add an interesting child-like perspective to the events of the plot which will often differ from what the audience knows to be true. This mismatch of interpretations gives the film depth and helps to keep the audience engaged. In the end, its easy to understand why this film was exhausting to make. While the real reason may never be known for why Malick left film directing for 20 years after Days, one thing is certain: that audiences certainly missed Malick's unique style during those two decades.

Terrence Malick, Badlands (1973)

In an era when directors churn out films at a pace of one every couple years, Terrence Malick is an anomaly. Starting with Badlands in 1973 (he also made Lanton Mills in 1969), Malick made only four films in three and half decades. Each one essentially builds on the same themes in a different setting. Malick is like an old acquaintance who sends you a Christmas card every decade; the words stay the same but the way we interpret them seems to change over time.

Malick is known for being a bit of recluse, but the attitude is refreshing. Instead of preening for attention, he instead appears to enjoy making beautiful films and letting them stand on their own merits. His low-key personality is also reflected in his directorial sytle- almost all of them feature voice-over narration spoken in a philosophical, conversational manner by the main character. Visually, the human drama is placed in the context of the surrounding natural world. The images of the natural world are often stunning and have the effect of framing very dramatic human conflicts as miniscule within the larger context (see picture below).

Badlands is elevated by the superb acting of the two main characters: a young Martin Sheen (pre-Apocalypse Now (1979)) and an even younger Sissy Spacek in one of her first films. From the opening scene, Malick sets the tone with a plodding musical score repeated throughout the film and presents the two characters as good-hearted and likable kids who are naive to the brutality of the world around them. As the plots develops and the characters succumb to violent actions, the viewer must deal with the brutal crimes of the protagonists and balance these emotions against the empathy we already have for them.

And if you think this subtle style could have been accomplished by any other director, just imagine if the person who directed the trailer would have filmed Badlands! Martin Sheen's character appears to have influenced Kevin Costner's character in Eastwood's Perfect World (1993). Compare Costner's look with Martin Sheen in this scene from Badlands. Of course, its obvious where the source material for both was derived from: James Dean (pictured here in Giant (1956)).

In terms of modern comparisons, Badlands is a more subtle character-driven film than Arthur Penn's Bonnie and Clyde (1967) and a less-over-the-top and gory film than Oliver Stone's Natural Born Killers (1994). Badlands has few flaws and its aged well over time; the acting is great, the directing is unrivaled and the cinematography is timeless. A must see for any film lover.

Jean Renoir, The Rules of the Game (1939)

More BlueStar is essentially interested in two things: highlighting innovative films (both old and new) that most people either don't know or have forgotten about as well as showing the link between today's directors' styles with those older films which inspired them.

First off, some kudos: whoever created The Rules of the Game trailer for Janus Films deserves an Oscar for capturing in a minute and half the greatness of this film. Simply put, Rules deserves the highest accolades according to the BlueStar criteria. As shown in the clip, it influenced many of the great directors from Robert Altman to Francois Truffaut to Alain Resnais, and we can see elements of Rules (La Regle du Jeu) in countless films made since 1939.

The closest modern film comparison would be Robert Altman's Gosford Park (2001); both are character intensive films set largely in the country home of a wealthy landowner. Like Gosford, this film is as much about what is not being said as what is said. Both films' fascination lies in examining both the lives of the rich and the poor servants as well as the interplay between the two. In this scene, Renoir shows that the drama behind the scenes is often far more intriguing than the play being performed for the audience; Gosford Park hits this same note, focusing on the high-low dynamics: showing action upstairs where the rich live and juxtaposing this against the actions in the basement, where the servants dwell and prepare the food.

Finally, the history behind the making of Rules is covered admirably in the DVD extras. This includes the story of how the original print was lost during World War II and how when it was re-released in the 1950s a handful of different cuts were made at the end of the film, thereby changing the entire message and tone of the ending.

The Rules of the Game is like a complex wine which has aged amazingly over time. Whether or not you're a wine connoisseur, you will thoroughly enjoy it from beginning to end.