My journey around the world, reviewing 50 films from different countries. New reviews every Tuesday.
Showing posts with label 2003. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2003. Show all posts
Tuesday, 31 January 2012
#25 USA — The Room (2003)
Half way there! At the start of this I didn't think I'd make it to this point. Here's an extra special review to mark this event. Enjoy.
Never has there been a film so misunderstood as Tommy Wiseau's 2003 masterpiece, The Room. The sheer volume of viewers who don't "get" it and instead enjoy it for supposedly unintentional comic value is disgusting. I assure you that the comedy is not only completely intentional, it is the most subtly satirical and intelligent humour since Jacques Tati.
The Room opens with the main character, Johnny, on a tram journey. The understanding of this metaphorical device is key to understanding the nature of the film. The tram here symbolises the modern way of thinking. Tram systems are seen as important because of their "green" nature and are recently being implemented in a number of cities — such as my home town, Edinburgh — to help reduce carbon footprints and suchlike. Johnny steps of the tram at the end of the title sequence, and thus starts a new life, attempting to appreciate the simple things in life, such as American Football and doing chicken impressions. Such a life-changing moment has not been implied so subtly and perfectly since Jeanne Dielman in Chantal Akerman's 1975 film (reviewed earlier).
One comment which is frequently made about the film is that Tommy Wiseau's acting as Johnny is one of the — if not, the — worst performances of all time. What you will notice, however, is that the acting is very restrained and there isn't one false move until he steps off that tram. Wiseau is inviting us into his simple world, one where we should not judge or be judged for how we present ourselves or how good our vagina location skills are (hint, it's not on the belly button). The fact that most viewers do not find this idea incredibly beautiful makes me weep for modern society.
A scene which is frequently misinterpreted, but is in fact one of the most overtly symbolic segments of the film is the flower shop scene. This short scene has more content and depth than most films have in their whole run-time. I will explain a few of the important aspects, but to go through them all would take a lifetime. First off, the shopkeeper fails to recognise Johnny as he walks into the shop, despite his very memorable features. She does not know who he his, because he is a new man, changed by his decision to live a better life. The fast, surreal pace of this scene coupled with the jarring dialog emphasises his dissatisfaction with the emphasis on efficiency in modern life. This channels Tati's Jour De Fete, alongside the absurdism of Bunuel's comedies.
There are moments, however, when Wiseau takes us out of this ideal view of life, showing it as an impossibility. The most obvious of these is in the plot, where his life is ruined by the modern world for attempting to choose a better way of life. More subtly, the frequently blurry camera suggests that this ideal life can only be a dream, and that it is unobtainable now. The picture of a spoon which is often parodied and made fun of also exists to strengthen this idea. It is a reference to the scene in The Matrix where reality is called into question with the bending of a spoon.
The most important aspect which is often seen as amusing i— ah screw it, this film is absolutely awful. Watch it anyway though, as it's rather hilarious.
Also recommended from the USA:
Plan 9 From Outer Space
Birdemic
Tuesday, 29 November 2011
#9 Iceland — Nói Albínói (2003)
For review number nine, I chose Iceland, because I can.
Why I chose this: I'm not going to lie here, this was the only Icelandic film I had on my watchlist and I think the only one I'd actually heard of. If someone is outraged at my ignorance of Icelandic cinema, please let me know and give me films to watch.
I started my Red Desert review with a rant about use of colour in films. I hope you will forgive me in doing the same here by saying AAAAAHHH, COLOUR FILTERS! WHYYY!? Seriously, Nói Albínói would be an incredibly beautiful film if the team would stop screwing around with different filters and turning the contrast settings up to 11.
I feel bad about starting the review on such a negative note, as this is actually a great film. The story follows Nói, a troubled Icelandic teenager as he struggles with love, family and his future. He is always in trouble at school for the lack of effort which he puts in, but seems to have hidden depths of intelligence. His main concern, however, is with Iris - the new cashier at the garage shop which he frequents.
It is very subtley observed but filled with wry humour and a painfully acute sense of irony. Most of the scenes are very simple and slow paced, showing every facet of Nói's life. Although most of the focus is put on Nói, I found his father, Kiddi, to be the most interesting and real character. He is an alcoholic, drinking himself further from reconciliation and his son, as he realises more and more that he made all the wrong choices in life, all of which he wants Nói to be spared from. Þröstur Gunnarsson absolutely nails this part, where the rest of the cast put in simply passable performances. Particularly touching is his karaoke scene with him trying to have fun and connect with his son, while Nói gets thrown out of the building for underage drinking. We never see Kiddi's reaction, but just thinking about it is heartbreaking.
The music - by the director's band, Slowblow - is amazingly beautiful and complements the film perfectly. The minimalistic melodies fit the serene landscapes like a glove and contribute to the soothing tone of the film.
The themes of alienation through being different, family conflicts and yearning for a better place are all well developed, especially at the film's sobering, abrupt ending.
Nói Albínói won't change anyone's life, but it is a touching and amusing film which is well worth a watch. Recommended to fans of Jim Jarmusch, Aki Kaurismäki and snow.
Also recommended from Iceland:
Sorry, I've got nothing
Labels:
2003,
arthouse,
comedy,
Dagur Kári,
drama,
film,
foreign,
Iceland,
Kári,
Nói Albínói
Location:
St. Andrews
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